#tallis critical

[anneapocalypse]

Tallis is such a character. She's a very unsubtle self-insert of her creator and also the first time we get to know a viddathari personally. She has cool unique rogue abilities, and she's a non-optional companion practically designed to annoy players who already have a favorite party and want to have both their love interest and their sibling along for the DLC and still have something resembling a balanced party. She has a tragic backstory and an unfortunately low-budget miniseries. She's Quirky™️. She offers insights into the appeal of the Qun for a person who has had few choices and little power in their life. Her DLC introduces weird lore that is rarely if ever brought up again. She's loyal to the Qun but can't stop fucking it up. She will flirt with Hawke shamelessly. There is a painful catch in her voice when she asks if Hawke meant it when they said they didn't care what she was. She's a spy who's wearing her organization's logo on her shirt. Most criticisms I have seen of her character are valid and indisputable. I love her so much.

[persephoneggsy]

Now that I’m on my (xx)-teenth replay of DA2, I’ve been having thoughts on Marian Hawke’s relationships.

Varric (Rival): They’re not exactly friends. Oh, Varric tried, but Marian’s extremely antagonistic and selfish attitude made it pretty hard to stick up for her in a lot of situations. He doesn’t like how her instinct is always to fight first; like seriously, the woman has no sense of tact. Sure, there are times he finds her fun to have around (mostly when she’s threatening someone he doesn’t particularly like), but on the whole, they don’t get along. Doesn’t stop him from basing characters on her, though, and that’s Marian’s main gripe with him. The thinly-veiled “Marielle” character from Hard in Hightown is absolutely nothing like her; she’s more like what Varric wishes she was like (though Marian is more upset at how Varric portrayed the characters based off of Carver and Sebastian). Don’t get her started on “The Tale of the Champion”, she absolutely despises it. She never gave Varric permission to write down her life story, much less sell it so OTHER people can read about her, and the fucker made a lot of shit up because she barely had him around enough for him to know what really happened. After the book comes out, she refuses to even speak to Varric. The only thing that manages to break this is when Varric writes to her about Corypheus, but even then, she prefers not to speak to him at all when she’s at Skyhold. To Varric’s credit, he gets it. He finally leaves her alone.

Anders (Rival): She’s immediately on edge around Anders since the first thing he wants her to do is fight Templars and break a mage out of the Circle. And, you know, he's also technically an abomination. Marian, someone who looks out for herself and her family, doesn’t give too much of a shit about the plight of mages (or rather, she’d just prefer to not think about it), so naturally Anders finds her frustrating, especially since she herself IS a mage. They’ve gotten into a lot of arguments over the years, mostly started by Anders pestering her; Marian is content to ignore him whenever possible. She also hates his whole “you were luckier than most mages” thing he keeps telling her. She knows she was, but he doesn’t know her life, and even if things were better, they still weren’t good. The one point of credit she does give him is that he offers free healing to the downtrodden — Marian acknowledges he’s better than her in that regard (she’s a healer, and a better one than him, but she’d absolutely charge money for her services). However, after the events of "Dissent", she can't stand him anymore and sends him away.

Merrill (Rival): Honestly, Marian found her a bit annoying at first, and Merrill’s use of blood magic didn’t help improve her opinion of her. But for the most part, Merrill’s sort of a neutral presence to have around, and Marian gets used to her over time. For her part, Merrill finds Marian fascinating but equally aggravating. Since in my headcanon, Merrill becomes close friends with Sebastian, she can’t really understand why he likes Marian as much as he does, but she acknowledges that they both seem good for each other. Also, because Marian softens up towards Act 3, she makes more of an effort to befriend Merrill, due to her being Sebastian’s best friend. She takes a more active role in looking out for her — they’re still by the game’s logic “rivals”, because there was no way Marian trusted that whole eluvian thing so she didn’t give Merrill the tool she needed to fix it, but they have a lot of conversations afterwards that sort of mend that rift.

Fenris (Friend): He’s actually Marian’s best friend. They’re both brooding, aggressive assholes. He’s the only person who doesn’t give her shit for her attitude and even encourages her at times, so she finds him easier to talk to. Fenris likes having her around, too, since she never gets on his case about his feelings towards magic unlike some OTHER mages he knows. Soon enough, Marian is confiding in him, and he in her. He’s the first person she tells about her growing crush on Sebastian (though he knows her well enough by that point that he already guessed she had a Thing for him). They can communicate pretty much exclusively through grunts and eye contact, to the confusion of most people around them.

Isabela (Rival): They got along well enough, at first. Isabela thought Marian was a riot, though like Varric, she though she could use more tact. Marian thought Isabela was fine, she just wished she would stop flirting with her. Then the Tome of Koslun thing was revealed and Marian was PISSED. She hates that Isabela lied to all of them for years, she hates that she was stupid enough to steal a religious relic from the fucking Qunari, she hates that she was inadvertently protecting the reason the Qunari were stuck in Kirkwall for so long. Marian absolutely despises the Qunari and hated dealing with them (though ironically she earned the Arishok’s respect), so she ended up blaming Isabela for that, too. So it was kind of a shock that Marian didn’t let the Arishok take Isabela when she returned with the Tome. She was tempted to, but she didn’t want to give the Arishok anything else. They never really recover from the incident. She also doesn’t help Isabela get her new ship (I’m not letting a goddamn slaver walk away just so you can have a new ship, seriously.)

Aveline (Rival): Honestly, they don’t interact much, because I think it’s weird that the captain of the guard would go traipsing around old dwarven ruins and the sewers with Marian and her gang of rabble-rousers. They have more a professional type relationship, with Aveline calling in Marian if she needs something done that the guard can’t normally handle on their own. Marian doesn’t care because she gets paid. She helps Aveline with Donnic, though, because at the time she was asked, she was still dealing with her apparently “hopeless” crush on a certain chantry brother. So she figures, shit, someone in this shithole city deserves to be happy, even if it’s Aveline. She’s (rightfully) furious with Aveline after the whole “All That Remains” incident, but I think she doesn’t take it as personally because they’re not friends. She does start charging more for her services afterwards, and I think Aveline feels guilty enough that she doesn’t protest that.

Sebastian (Friend): I think I’ve gone on enough about Marian and Sebastian that I don’t really need to elaborate on how they feel about each other. I will say, that due to Sebastian’s influence, Marian becomes much more “diplomatic” (though not completely. She’s still a bitch at heart ❤️). She lets herself be vulnerable and remorseful, in large part thanks to his counsel. Maybe enough so that she tries to repair some of her bad relationships (like Merrill, and I think she tries to smooth things over with her mother and later uncle Gamlen, too). On his end, I think Marian’s influence makes Sebastian bolder and more assured. I like the idea of these two polar opposites finding each other and helping each other heal, even taking on some of the other’s traits (though ultimately remaining themselves at their core).

(Bonus) Tallis: Marian hates Tallis. You can’t say shit like “I think you’d be happy under the Qun” to a mage (you know, they people whose mouths they sew shut) and expect her to just be chill with you afterwards. Plus, you know, she misled Marian about the Heart, got her captured, and still had the audacity to ask for her help without explaining what was really going on.

[maleficarlife]

Mark of the Assassins is badly written and as it stand there is no reason for Hawke to go and Prosper is actually more morally right than Tallis (which doesn't mean he is a good person, he's not. But he is more right than Tallis in that DLC) in this essay I will-

[kagooleo]

aside from my rice here’s a doodle dump of my timeskip johto kiddos all scribbled during classes! forgot to upload this some time ago but it's a mix of silly doodles, profile studies and outfit ideations 📝

[clone-nelly]

I had a vision

[distant--shadow]

dreadborg and her cowboy

[frankensteins-mt-dew]

The husbands are going to die tonight with those tandem jokes

[keter-class-anomaly]

Joe Hawley attacks

Ooooo, finally sharing some of my artwork. Expect more of that It’s supposed to be Joe Hawley in the second episode of Tally Hall’s internet show.

[persephoneggsy]

well, made a tier list: dragon age companion edition

naturally, this is all in good fun, i don’t think less of people who like characters that i don’t because i’m a normal person, etc. etc.

[orcelito]

Minotaur fight buddy

[eyesthatroll]

SKIN

pairing luke hughes x fem!reader

summary a late night at home with luke

warning(s) fluff, allusion/mention of smut (barely detailed), not sure what else

word count 1.1k

authors note this piece of writing for luke is probably my favorite i’ve ever written. i truly hope you all enjoy it as much as i do, and as always, any reblogs or constructive criticism is always appreciated <3 — mari

Your fingers navigated the intricate landscape of Luke's curls, a delicate dance that involved caressing the wild tangles, and occasionally tugging at the ends, your nails gently tracing across his scalp. Each pass of your fingertips sent shivers down his spine, evoking soft, contented sighs from him that whispered against your skin. He rested atop you, almost as if he'd melded with your form, his lean legs sprawled languidly over yours, the weight of his body a comforting anchor. His strong arms encircled your waist, offering both a sense of security and profound connection, radiating a warmth that permeated through your skin and enveloped your core. His head had found its sanctuary on your chest, rising and falling in perfect synchrony with your exhaled breaths and rhythm of your heartbeat.

As he drifted deeper into slumber, light snores occasionally escaped his parted lips, an endearing reminder of his peaceful surrender to rest. The muted tones of Sportscenter played softly in the background, an unobtrusive soundtrack to your shared moment, its distant glow casting a soft, blueish hue across your cozy space. You watch the screen with detached interest, not particularly invested in the broadcast, but unwilling to disrupt the stillness of the moment by searching for the remote, which had become an inconsequential trinket in this oasis of tranquility, where the world outside now ceased to matter.

Luke had made an impromptu visit to your apartment a few hours ago, his face illuminated by the glow of victory after his team's hard-fought win against the Rangers. The game had been a grueling, high-stakes battle that culminated in a rousing 6-5 overtime victory. You had been engrossed in the game on your laptop, the backdrop to your frantic efforts to complete some last-minute schoolwork.

As you watched, your heart had soared with pride for the boys on the ice, but it was Luke who had truly captured your admiration. He had been a standout player, netting a crucial goal and tallying four points in total. The achievement had warmed your heart to its core, but what had touched you even more was his choice to celebrate this victory with you. Rather than joining his teammates for a night out at the bar, he had chosen the intimacy of your company, a gesture that spoke volumes about the way he truly felt about you.

Together, you began the lovely task of preparing his favorite meal, fettuccine alfredo. As the savory aroma of the sauce filled the kitchen, the two of you effortlessly slipped into your own enchanting world. Lost in each other's gaze, you began a spontaneous slow dance to the soulful notes of 'Dijon's "Skin," which played softly through your speaker. You melted into his comforting touch, finding solace in the circle of his arms as you both moved gracefully, an intimate dance within the confines of your small kitchen. His chin rested tenderly atop your head, and in that fleeting moment, you yearned for time to stand still, allowing you to exist forever within this embrace. In this singular instance, worries and work faded away, leaving only the idyllic essence of your love, encapsulated in the gentle sway of your bodies to the sweet strains of a love ballad.

The soft glow of the living room provided a warm ambience, while Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift played quietly on the television. As the two of you indulged in your meals, Luke explained some of the inner workings of tonights game during the commercials, giving you an added appreciation for how arduous the win truly was. You couldn't help but appreciate the way his eyes lit up as he spoke of his teammates' accomplishments, his humility shining through as he downplayed his own success from the night.

It didn't take long before the chemistry between you two grew palpable, and the desire became irresistible. You eventually abandoned the living room for the intimacy of your bedroom, eager to express your deep affection for each other in the tender embrace of the tangled sheets beneath your duvet.

Tonight was a celebration of him, and the man he was. You desired to cater to him, to convey your adoration not through mere words but through actions. To show how proud you were of him and and how deeply your love for him ran.

The sex was lazy and passionate, you doing most of the work as his energy was waning. He planted soft, wet kisses on your neck as you rode him through his orgasm, his soft whimpering of your name prompting your own release. You fell on top of him with a quiet moan, and his hands reached against your back, massaging the sweat stricken skin as he murmured praises into your ear.

The two of you shared a quick shower, washing away the temporary evidence of the heartfelt night you'd shared. You pampered him with your skincare routine, caring for his skin as well as your own. And after brushing your teeth side by side, you both retreated back to the comfort of your bed.

Luke now stirs on top of you, his eyes slowly fluttering open, only to squint in response to the sudden intrusion of light emanating from the television, which now displayed a random informercial.

"I can't believe you're still awake," Luke rasps, his voice a husky mumble from the brink of slumber. His gaze remains fixed on your intertwined bodies, not lifting to meet your eyes. Slipping his hand under your shirt, his fingers trace aimless patterns on your stomach, a gentle and affectionate touch in the quiet intimacy of the night.

A soft smile graces your lips. "I like to watch you sleep."

He snorts, and you feel the rumble of his laughter resonate through his chest against your body. "Such a creep," he teases, his voice filled with fondness.

An involuntary yawn escapes your lips, and as you turn to glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table, your eyes widen at the time displayed – two am. Had you really been laying here, running your hands through Luke's hair for an hour and a half?

He rises from his sprawled position on top of you, unfolding his frame with a contented stretch. His bare feet meet the cool, unforgiving embrace of the hardwood floor with a soft thud as he ambles towards the bathroom. In the dim light, you seize the moment to search beneath the tangled sheets for the TV remote, waiting until Luke returns, before extinguishing the screen.

Another yawn escapes from your lips, marking the shift in positions as Luke draws you close against his chest. Nestling into his side, you're serenaded by the gentle metre of his heartbeat, its soothing echo resonating in your ear.

"Go to sleep, baby, I know you're tired."

You hum in response, finally content with allowing your eyes to close.

[mindblowingscience]

Global rhinoceros numbers have increased to 27,000 despite populations being ravaged by poaching and habitat loss, new figures show, with some species rebounding for the first time in a decade. Rhinos numbered about 500,000 across Africa and Asia in the 20th century but their populations have been devastated. Last year, they began showing signs of recovery in some areas, although two species – the Javan and Sumatran – remain close to disappearing. Figures released by the IUCN African Rhino Specialist Group, the conservation body, indicate that the global rhino population increased to about 27,000 at the end of last year, with southern white rhino numbers increasing for the first time since 2012, from 15,942 at the end of 2021 to 16,803. In 2021, the world’s rhino population was estimated to be 26,272. Black rhinos, native to east and southern Africa, have been heavily depleted by poaching for their horns but last year increased by nearly 5%, rising from 6,195 at the end of 2021 to 6,487 at the end of 2022. This increase has happened despite a rise in black rhinos killed by poachers, and has been aided by conservationists establishing new populations that have grown in size.

Continue Reading

[fatehbaz]

Endangered Indian sandalwood. British war to control the forests. Tallying every single tree in the kingdom. European companies claim the ecosystem. Spices and fragrances. Failure of the plantation. Until the twentieth century, the Empire couldn't figure out how to cultivate sandalwood because they didn't understand that the plant is actually a partial root parasite. French perfumes and the creation of "the Sandalwood City".

---

Selling at about $147,000 per metric ton, the aromatic heartwood of Indian sandalwood (S. album) is arguably [among] the most expensive wood in the world. Globally, 90 per cent of the world’s S. album comes from India [...]. And within India, around 70 per cent of S. album comes from the state of Karnataka [...] [and] the erstwhile Kingdom of Mysore. [...] [T]he species came to the brink of extinction. [...] [O]verexploitation led to the sandal tree's critical endangerment in 1974. [...]

---

Francis Buchanan’s 1807 A Journey from Madras through the Countries of Mysore, Canara and Malabar is one of the few European sources to offer insight into pre-colonial forest utilisation in the region. [...] Buchanan records [...] [the] tradition of only harvesting sandalwood once every dozen years may have been an effective local pre-colonial conservation measure. [...] Starting in 1786, Tipu Sultan [ruler of Mysore] stopped trading pepper, sandalwood and cardamom with the British. As a result, trade prospects for the company [East India Company] were looking so bleak that by November 1788, Lord Cornwallis suggested abandoning Tellicherry on the Malabar Coast and reducing Bombay’s status from a presidency to a factory. [...] One way to understand these wars is [...] [that] [t]hey were about economic conquest as much as any other kind of expansion, and sandalwood was one of Mysore’s most prized commodities. In 1799, at the Battle of Srirangapatna, Tipu Sultan was defeated. The kingdom of Mysore became a princely state within British India [...]. [T]he East India Company also immediately started paying the [new rulers] for the right to trade sandalwood.

British control over South Asia’s natural resources was reaching its peak and a sophisticated new imperial forest administration was being developed that sought to solidify state control of the sandalwood trade. In 1864, the extraction and disposal of sandalwood came under the jurisdiction of the Forest Department. [...] Colonial anxiety to maximise profits from sandalwood meant that a government agency was established specifically to oversee the sandalwood trade [...] and so began the government sandalwood depot or koti system. [...]

From the 1860s the [British] government briefly experimented with a survey tallying every sandal tree standing in Mysore [...].

Instead, an intricate system of classification was developed in an effort to maximise profits. By 1898, an 18-tiered sandalwood classification system was instituted, up from a 10-tier system a decade earlier; it seems this led to much confusion and was eventually reduced back to 12 tiers [...].

---

Meanwhile, private European companies also made significant inroads into Mysore territory at this time. By convincing the government to classify forests as ‘wastelands’, and arguing that Europeans would improves these tracts from their ‘semi-savage state’, starting in the 1860s vast areas were taken from local inhabitants and converted into private plantations for the ‘production of cardamom, pepper, coffee and sandalwood’.

---

Yet attempts to cultivate sandalwood on both forest department and privately owned plantations proved to be a dismal failure. There were [...] major problems facing sandalwood supply in the period before the twentieth century besides overexploitation and European monopoly. [...] Before the first quarter of the twentieth century European foresters simply could not figure out how to grow sandalwood trees effectively.

The main reason for this is that sandal is what is now known as a semi-parasite or root parasite; besides a main taproot that absorbs nutrients from the earth, the sandal tree grows parasitical roots (or haustoria) that derive sustenance from neighbouring brush and trees. [...] Dietrich Brandis, the man often regaled as the father of Indian forestry, reported being unaware of the [sole significant English-language scientific paper on sandalwood root parasitism] when he worked at Kew Gardens in London on South Asian ‘forest flora’ in 1872–73. Thus it was not until 1902 that the issue started to receive attention in the scientific community, when C.A. Barber, a government botanist in Madras [...] himself pointed out, 'no one seems to be at all sure whether the sandalwood is or is not a true parasite'.

Well into the early decades of twentieth century, silviculture of sandal proved a complete failure. The problem was the typical monoculture approach of tree farming in which all other species were removed and so the tree could not survive. [...]

The long wait time until maturity of the tree must also be considered. Only sandal heartwood and roots develop fragrance, and trees only begin developing fragrance in significant quantities after about thirty years. Not only did traders, who were typically just sailing through, not have the botanical know-how to replant the tree, but they almost certainly would not be there to see a return on their investments if they did. [...]

---

The main problem facing the sustainable harvest and continued survival of sandalwood in India [...] came from the advent of the sandalwood oil industry at the beginning of the twentieth century. During World War I, vast amounts of sandal were stockpiled in Mysore because perfumeries in France had stopped production and it had become illegal to export to German perfumeries. In 1915, a Government Sandalwood Oil Factory was built in Mysore. In 1917, it began distilling. [...] [S]andalwood production now ramped up immensely. It was at this time that Mysore came to be known as ‘the Sandalwood City’.

---

Text above by: Ezra Rashkow. "Perfumed the axe that laid it low: The endangerment of sandalwood in southern India." Indian Economic and Social History Review 51, no. 1, pages 41-70. March 2014. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Italicized first paragraph/heading in this post added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]

[spnexploration]

A Christmas Case

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Dean drags you out of bed to go to a case, ruining your Christmas plans. But does he have a plan to make up for it?

Words: 1.1k

This is my submission for @spnfanficpond Secret Santa 2023 (ignore the fact it was posted in Jan 2024...) and is a gift for @apocalypseornaw ❤ Sorry for the delay!

Supernatural writing masterlist

“Come on, we’ve got a case,” Dean said, shaking you awake.

“Fu’ offfff,” you grumbled at him. “You’re not allowed in my room.” What you’d really like was Dean to stay in your room permanently, maybe some ravishing… But that was never going to happen.

He chuckled, “Just channel that energy to the monster. We leave in twenty.”

---

You sulked in the backseat. It was December 23rd, why the hell were you off on a case? You’d put in a little bit of effort at the bunker, getting a tree and some dollar shop baubles. That was all for naught, now.

Dean caught sight of you in the rear-view mirror. “What’s up with you, princess? We interrupt your beauty sleep?” You didn’t appreciate his teasing.

“I don’t see why monsters couldn’t give us the bloody holidays off.”

“It’s just another day in our line of work, don’t know why you got your hopes up.”

You glared at him. “Yes, how could I, when known Scrooge, Dean Winchester, was going to be trawling for cases at 6am on Christmas Eve Eve.” It was his own damn fault he wouldn’t be getting the present you’d spent a lot of time choosing for him.

“Hey! I didn’t even find it!”

You turned your glare to Sam, “Got anything to say, Second Scrooge Winchester?”

“I just have some google alerts set up, sorry.”

You crossed your arms.

“You might have been expecting a bit too much from a Christmas at the Bunker anyway,” Dean said in a tone of voice as if he was trying to make you feel better. “We’re not very good at Christmases.”

You rolled your eyes and looked out the window. The boys decided to let you be.

---

You decided to keep a tally of how many people said something about the FBI making you work so close to Christmas: you were already up to 4 and it was only mid-afternoon on the first day. Happily the drive hadn’t been too long from the bunker to the crappy town where the case was, so you’d been able to get started straight away.

There was a giant Christmas tree in the main street of town. You felt like it was mocking you.

You dragged your feet as you followed the boys into the library, conveniently still open. You wondered if Dean even realised everything was going to be closed on Christmas Day. Serve him right if he couldn’t get pie that day.

You half-heartedly trawled some books, not really contributing to the research effort.

“Sorry,” Sam said quietly as he came to sit by you. “I didn’t mean to ruin your holidays.”

“It’s alright,” you said, not really feeling it but not wanting to sound petty, either.

“I can tell you’re upset. Hell, even Dean can tell you’re upset.”

“You know, Dean’s better at reading people than people give him credit for,” you said, always quick to defend inappropriate criticism of Dean.

“Ok, you’re right, that was a low blow. But you’re still upset, and I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, solve the case fast enough and maybe we can do Christmas on Boxing Day at least.”

He gave your arm a friendly squeeze before standing up again and heading back to the shelves.

“I think I found it!” Dean called from somewhere. You stood to go find him.

---

It turned out to be a very quick case, over by late evening Christmas Eve. It was late enough that ordinarily you’d all head back to the motel room and go home early the next morning, but Dean suggested something different. “How about we head back to the bunker tonight, I’ll drive.”

“It’s pretty late,” Sam said, nursing a couple of injuries.

“You can sleep in the backseat until we get there. Won’t it be better to get to sleep in your own bed?”

“If you’re doing this for me, you don’t have to,” you said. “It’s fine, it’s just a stupid day. You don’t have to kill yourself driving late at night just for me.”

“No, come on, it’ll be nice to be back home.” He gave you that beautiful smile and you couldn’t help but melt.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Sam mumbled agreement and so you all piled into the Impala, Sam stretched out on the backseat. He was asleep almost instantly, and you weren’t too far behind.

---

“Hey, hey,” you woke to Dean whispering your name and gently shaking your shoulder. “Wake up.”

You looked around blearily, this wasn’t the bunker. It looked like the middle of nowhere. You started to ask Dean, but he held up his hand.

“Shh, don’t wake Sam,” he said, still whispering. “Come out of the car for a sec, I’ll explain it all.”

You looked at him quizzically but followed, closing the door as quietly as you could behind yourself. Dean took your hand and pulled you around to the front of the car. Your heart was racing; this was different…

“I’m sorry Sam and I ruined the Christmas you had planned,” he said, standing very close to you. You looked up into his stunningly gorgeous face wanting nothing more than to kiss him, but knowing that he saw you like a little sister. “But I thought we could look for Santa delivering presents,” he said, gesturing to the huge expanse of the night sky you could see.

You laughed, “What am I, 7?”

“Well, ok, it doesn’t have to be Santa. But it’s a nice night for stargazing, and I wanted to make it up to you.” He reached up and brushed his thumb over your cheek. This was definitely new. You nodded in agreement and he took your hand again, pulling you up on to the top of the bonnet.

He scooted very close to you. You could feel his body heat, which was good in the freezing night air. You felt a wave of goosebumps break out over your skin, but you weren’t entirely sure if they were because of the cold or the proximity of Dean.

He reached behind him and grabbed a blanket you hadn’t seen was there, then put his arms around you and draped it across your shoulders. He was so close, so beautifully close. And yet, always so far.

He didn’t put his arms back down, like you were expecting.

He put a hand on your shoulder. What was he doing? He put his other hand on your cheek. So warm, so close. So... intimate.

You looked up into his big, green eyes.

He leaned in close.

Oh. Oh! This was happening!

His soft, Adonis-like lips were suddenly on yours. You closed your eyes and leant into the moment.

He pulled away, “Merry Christmas. Hope this makes up for having to be on the road.”

“Oh, this definitely makes up for it,” you said before capturing his lips again.

The stars looked down from above, forgotten.

.

.

.

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[onesettleronebullet]

The United States (US) leap-frogged competitors in the scramble for African minerals required to power the global energy transition when it signed an agreement with Zambia and the Democratic Republic of Congo in 2022 for the development of a regional value chain in the electric vehicle battery sector.

The agreement challenged the dominance of China, South Africa, Hong Kong, Mauritius and India as the traditional consumers of Zambian copper, gold, lithium, cobalt and manganese exports.

It targeted large volumes of critical transition metals that occur in the Katanga Copperbelt, a mineral-rich strip stretching from Lualaba province in the south-eastern DRC to the Luapula province in northern Zambia.

According to the US state department, the agreement aimed to “facilitate the development of an integrated value chain for the production of electric vehicle batteries in the DRC and Zambia, ranging from raw material extraction, to processing, manufacturing and assembly”.

17/04/2024