#urban recovery

[worldhabitatday]

High-Level Opening Ceremony of the Global Observance of the World Habitat Day 2023.

UN-Habitat, in partnership with the World Economic Forum, believes that these models can be localised and scaled up through the Global Partnership for Local Investment, where experiences are shared to build a local finance framework for cities and communities, to help distribute existing funding and finance to where it can deliver the greatest impact.

The local finance framework integrates three key solutions to facilitate this access:

Cities Investment Facility (CIF)

UN-Habitat/UNCDF Guarantee Facility for Sustainable Cities

Rapid Own Source Revenue Analysis (ROSRA)

PROGRAMME

Get the World Health Day 2023 Programme.

Watch the High-Level Opening Ceremony of the Global Observance of the World Habitat Day 2023.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Perdition

Bleeding in Moonlight: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five |

CW: None, really, other than someone eating pizza... badly. Oh, and some brief references to the FLDS cult.

-

“All right,” Vanessa said, leaning over her drink and giving Anaya a fixed stare across the table. “Explain.”

Down the hall, the shower ran. Eden looked back over his shoulder, thinking about how he’d had to show the kid how to turn the knob from cold to hot, and the boy’s absolute shock when he’d felt hot water hit his palms, stinging the scrape there. 

The kid hadn’t even flinched fully back, just turned to Eden with those strange golden eyes so wide. 

It comes out hot?

Eden had been thinking, ever since, about how it would feel to only have experienced cold showers your entire life. Assuming there had even been showers. He was starting to think maybe Misae had been hosed down in the yard.

Like a dog covered in mud.

Like a wolf.

He rubbed at his temples, a headache threatening. His brain kept trying to cycle back to the sight of the skinny young reddish-brown wolf racing through their camp, the bloodied wound in its back leg - and then shifting to Misae, naked with his leg bleeding, curled up under their car trying to hide from the man hunting him. 

He couldn’t reconcile the two creatures as the same, in two different shapes. Anaya, apparently, could just believe in werewolves in a flash, a split-second reorienting of their entire conception of reality not even bothering her at all. 

It wasn’t so easy for him.

“What do you mean?” Naya asked, her eyes on the window behind Vanessa. "Explain what?" The little black cat from earlier had shown back up and was sitting just outside the window, watching them, blinking yellow eyes in slow, wordless communication. 

Vanessa had said it wasn’t her cat. It supposedly belonged to an elderly neighbor. Eden wasn’t so sure the cat agreed with that assertion.

“I’m not trying to be rude,” Vanessa said, sipping the apple cider-whiskey-and-lemon-fizzy-water concoction she’d made and offered to them both. Anaya had taken her up on it, but Eden had begged for something as simple as a beer.

He’d ended up with something ostentatiously draped in chocolate and peanut butter that was pretending to be a stout, but fuck it - it was still beer. Beer that tastes like a peanut butter cup, sure, but beer.

“No, I know, I know you’re not, it’s just-... it’s kind of a weird subject for him-”

“Is he a Lost Boy?” Vanessa’s tone was flat now.

Eden and Anaya shared a look. Eden raised his eyebrows. Anaya shrugged, then turned back to Vanessa. “I don’t know what that means, Ness. I know Lost Boys is a Peter Pan thing, but-”

“Man.” Vanessa laughed, open and easy. “You never watched any of those documentaries I told you to watch, did you?”

Anaya flushed.

Eden snorted. “Well, if you told her to watch them, I guarantee she didn’t. Number one way to keep Naya from doing something is to tell her she has to do it.”

“Hey!” Anaya swatted at his arm, and he grinned at her, batting his eyelashes until she broke back down into giggles. “That’s not fair. You do it, too.”

“I know I do, but we’re not talking about me, are we?” He held up his beer as if making a toast. “Talkin’ about you, baby.”

“I hate you,” Anaya said, and leaned over to steal a kiss. 

“Gross,” Vanessa said, sounding utterly unbothered. “This is why I don’t have roommates, you know. So nobody has to see kissing.”

“You never kiss anybody here?” Anaya blinked, looking around. “But your house is so cute!”

“Number one - thank you, I worked really hard on the piece of crap falling down shack I bought six years ago, so I appreciate that. Number two… No. This house is my sanctuary, baby girl, nobody ever crosses this doorway who might think they have a claim on it if they do. And number three… Lost Boys are named after the Peter Pan story, yeah, but it’s… okay. Uh. How do I start… So you remember I grew up in Cedar City, in Utah?”

“Nope.”

“We talked about our childhoods like six times, Naya.”

Anaya winced. “Sorry. My memory is swiss cheese on a good day-”

Vanessa waved her hand. “Honestly, that’s fine. I’m just as bad, I can’t judge. So, not super far from Cedar City, you run into these… people. I was raised Mormon, not that it stuck-” She lifted up the cocktail she’d made for herself and shook it until the ice clinked against the side of the glass. “As you can see. My mom is still absolutely convinced I’m coming back to it, but that’s just Mom being her usual optimistic self. Anyway, not relevant. There’s this offshoot group near us, and they call themselves FLDS, but they’re about as Mormon as a sack of hammers. They’re pretty much flat out a weird sex cult run by old men who choose dozens of women to marry. That’s the Cliff’s Notes, it’s actually much grosser than that. But, uh, when there’s a dozen men that marry a dozen women each…”

Eden wrinkled his nose. “There can’t possibly be enough women to make that work.”

“There aren’t. Nice catch. Or, rather, there’s too many men. So they kick the teenage boys out. They come up with some kind of story, some excuse for it. One boy I met watched a VHS tape of Fern Gully in secret but made the mistake of telling his brother, who told on him. One was overheard telling a girl he thought she was pretty when she was already set to marry somebody’s grandpa. Another said all they told him was that he seemed kind of lazy at the worksite last Thursday. One poor kid just had the absolute freaking audacity to not even notice the girls at all, they decided that meant he was looking at the boys instead. Doesn’t matter. They kick them out, dump them on a road with a backpack - if they're lucky they get a backpack - and tell the boys good riddance, don’t come back. They don't have any documentation, they don't have any idea how to live in the modern world. Most of them have never even handled money themselves. Sometimes you’ll hear them called the Sons of Perdition? Ringing any bells?”

Anaya frowned, looking at Eden. He shrugged back at her. “Sounds sort of familiar,” Anaya said slowly. “Like maybe I saw something on the news.”

The shower turned off. All three of them went briefly quiet, as they heard the bathroom door open and close, followed by the guest bedroom door doing the same. 

“You might have. There was a big case about it years ago, that's what the show I wanted you to watch was about. In any case, I’m telling you all of this because I thought maybe you’d picked up a Lost Boy. Sometimes, with the Lost Boys, their moms have kids who already left, or a sister or something, and they can give the boy a phone number to call. Mostly, though, they’re on their own. My mom helps them, she drives the roads some days looking for the boys and takes them to a shelter in Cedar City. When I visit back home we do it together. So, yeah. I thought maybe that’s where he could be from.”

“I… don’t think that’s it.” Eden looked down at his beer. “We found him in the woods, like… deep into the woods, and he was coming from somewhere even deeper. Actually, he found us, I guess. We saw him hiding under my car from somebody who was after him. And it didn’t seem like the plan was to bring him back alive.”

“Hence the being shot,” Vanessa said, thinking out loud.

Eden nodded. “Hence being shot.” Honestly, he liked her - she was sharp and soft at the same time. He could see why Anaya had been so sure she’d let them stay, that she’d help them out.

“Well, my first guess was wrong, then, I suppose. But there’s all kinds of survivalists hiding out in the woods. Usually just a family by themselves, or maybe a couple related families who put together a little compound. Most of them keep to themselves and tip really well when they show up in the local diners, keep some of the farm supply stores more or less in business, but sometimes you get some that are alone in the woods long enough to get…” She trailed off. "Weird."

Anaya sipped her own drink - just the cider. She’d told Eden she was worried that if she drank alcohol she’d just flat out fall asleep at the table. They were both running on nerves and caffeine by now. "Weird?” She prodded, gently.

“Odd,” Vanessa said, finally. “Paranoid. Hostile. They’re the kind of guys that think we’re all microchipped by the government, or that vaccines make you pick up cell signals. Things like that. People who sit around alone too long get really weird. Or maybe they were already weird and that’s why they went out into the woods. I mean, as long as they tip twenty percent on a decent meal, they can live however they want in my book, but not if they're trying to cover up abuse, or something. If that’s where this kid comes from, well. There might not be anybody he can easily go to, relatives-wise."

Eden thought of Misae's scars. "... I think abuse was pretty much a given. You don't shoot at someone who's running from you if you're a good place to grow up."

"Yeah. Poor kid." The timer over the oven beeped, and Vanessa pushed herself to her feet. “Just a second. Hey, Strange Boy Misae!” Vanessa’s voice shifted into an effortless projection that found its way through every corner of the little bungalow of a home. “Pizza’s ready! Come eat!” 

She swept herself into the kitchen, leaving Eden and Anaya briefly alone. Eden held his beer in his right hand and let his left drift, until it found Anaya’s fingertips. She smiled without looking at him and grabbed on tight. 

“This was a good place to pick,” Eden admitted, reluctantly. “To find a place we can crash. You did good, baby."

“Told you so,” Anaya sing-songed, voice low and loving. “I’m always right, even when I’m not.”

“Aaaaand this moment right here is why I never admit it when you are right,” Eden said, voice dry. "Because you do that every single time." They clinked beer bottle and glass together, and kissed again. Anaya half-laughed into the kiss, making it awkward and bad and the best kiss, all at the same time.

He heard the softest scrape behind him and pulled back to see Misae hovering in the doorway, wearing Anaya’s star-sky pajama pants pulled as tight at the waist as they could go and a shirt of hers that didn’t quite meet the waistline, showing a flash of pale, scarred stomach. His hair was mussed and stuck up and out every which way. His eyes danced around the room and he moved in a way Eden could only call slinking, sticking to the wall as he eased himself slowly into the room. He limped, still, but not nearly so badly as he should have. 

He shouldn’t have been able to move at all, not really, not without crutches or help.

Well, maybe teenagers who turn into wolves heal fast, Eden’s brain supplied with hysterical false calm. Didn’t he say he heals fast? 

Misae’s eyes moved constantly, the whites showing around the iris as he took everything in. He crossed his arms in front of himself. Outside, the sun was getting low in the sky, sending blazing golden yellows and oranges that cast Misae in a light like reflected flames. It made his gold eyes seem to glow. 

“Hey,” Eden said, his voice gentling immediately. “Feeling better? Was it a good shower?” He patted the seat next to him when the boy didn’t move.

Misae looked down at the chair, back to Eden, and then towards the kitchen. Vanessa bustled around in there. 

Something fell in a crash of ceramic and Misae’s lips pulled back in a heartbeat, baring teeth that weren’t as flat in the canines as they should have been, snarling even as he hunched into himself further, self-protective, and pushed himself back against the wall. Eden could damn near see his ears suddenly tipped in fur, elongating, pushed back against his head. Was he getting shorter?

“Everything’s fine!” Vanessa called out before anyone could ask. “Just a second! Everything’s totally good!”

Misae’s teeth were sharp enough to crunch bone now. Eden couldn’t deny it - he was watching the boy begin to turn. He wasn’t getting shorter, he was shifting from bipedal to something that had to stand on all fours. Eden swallowed, hard, his heart beating so fast it made him vaguely breathless. 

"Holy shit," Anaya breathed, next to him. Her grip on Eden's hand went tight enough to hurt, squeezing his bones together. He wondered, in a kind of wild irrational flight of fancy, if Misae's bones hurt right now, changing shape in everything from fingers to spine. "Misae, honey-... sweetie-"

“Come sit,” Eden said, keeping his voice low. “Everything’s okay, Misae. She’s a good person, she won’t hurt you. I promise. Even if she tries, we'll keep you safe, I swear. Just sit down next to me, okay?”

Misae blinked, and the sense of something not-quite-human was gone in a heartbeat. No monster here, it was only a frightened teenage boy who limped carefully to the chair next to Eden. 

Eden decided not to think about what he’d seen any longer. Not even a little bit. Not even for a second. He locked that up in a box inside his head marked LATER. Or maybe NEVER.

Misae sat down like he’d never been in a chair before, lowering himself carefully as if he thought it might bite him. He sighed in something like contentment when he finally settled. “This good?” He asked, chin down but looking up through his eyelashes.

“It’s perfect. So was the shower good?” Eden asked again, just for something to say. In the window, the black cat kept watching them, eyes locked on Misae now.

Misae nodded, but he didn’t speak anymore. He… really wasn’t a talker. Most of the time, it felt like talking to a statue, a robot.

Like talking to a dog.

Maybe he never talked because nobody had ever cared to listen.

He shook that thought away just the same as he’d shaken off the last one. He’d admitted to himself, deep down, that this kid wasn’t completely human and he'd clearly come from somewhere awful, but he needed at least one good night of sleep to be able to fully grasp it.

Or maybe he never would. 

“We’re going to just chill out for a couple days,” Anaya said, leaning forward so she could talk directly to Misae around the obstruction that was Eden. “Just rest, and figure out what to do next, okay? So no worries about having to be on the move again right away. So just… think about where a safe place might be for you to go, okay? Maybe some people that could take care of you?”

Misae looked at her, tipping his head to one side, eyebrows furrowing slightly. The silence drew out. Just as Anaya looked away, Misae murmured something too low to be understood.

She blinked. “What was that?”

“... I don’t know any other place,” Misae admitted, voice rough, just above a whisper. Something like a growl or a whine just at the edge. “Don’t know any other people. I only knew one place, and it isn’t safe. All my people are dead. I told you.”

Eden needed another beer.

Desperately.

Vanessa returned, smiling brightly as she held a couple plates heaped with slices of pizza, breadsticks, and tomato sauce to dip it in. “I made two pizzas. Who wants sausage and pepperoni, and who wants barbecue chicken? Oh, hey, you’re here. That shower did some good, you look like a totally different person now!” 

Misae’s eyes flicked to Eden’s and then away. “Thank you," He muttered, leaning away as if wanting to hide from the attention. 

Vanessa showed Misae the plates. “Dinner is served. So pick your poison, kiddo.”

Misae’s eyes widened in alarm, and he turned to look at Eden. The sound he made this time was definitely, fully, entirely a canine whine. Eden could very nearly understand him.

Don’t make me eat this.

"I've been good," Misae whispered, begged really, eyes beseeching. "Don't make me eat the poison meat. Please, Eden."

Vanessa blinked, pulling the plates back towards herself a little. “Uh… what?” 

Eden cleared his throat. “It’s a joke,” He reassured Misae, reaching out to touch his shoulder, feeling the boy lean into the touch with something like ferocity, nearly pushing Eden off balance. He gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze and felt him shaking under his palm. Somehow he ended up with an arm around those bony, thin shoulders, pulling him close and speaking against his hair. Some of it tickled Eden's nose. “She was joking. It’s not actually poisoned. Take the sausage one, you’ll like that. I'll eat it, too, okay? So you can see it's good to eat, and nobody's going to get hurt."

“It’s not poisoned,” Anaya agreed quickly. “It's totally, completely safe. We promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

"Not helping when you say the D-I-E word, Naya," Eden murmured. Misae nosed into the crook of his neck, whining again. His stomach growled along with it, the sound as loud as a whalesong in the small dining room. Eden's own stomach growled as if in response.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo,” Vanessa said, sounding stricken. “Oh, gosh. I really didn’t think when I said that, huh? That you wouldn't know it was a joke. I'm so so sorry. Totally normal pizza, one hundred percent not even a little bit poisoned. Just regular food for regular humans. Look, watch." Vanessa picked up a slice and took a bite herself, chewing ostentatiously. "See? Safe!"

Eden very nearly burst out laughing. Not from humor, not really, but just from a kind of exhausted hilarity he couldn't quite control.

Whatever Misae was, regular human sure wasn’t it. And his reaction to the poison joke made something in Eden hurt, absolutely certain this kid had seen some other people - or wolves - poisoned with their food before, maybe even seen them die from it.

Maybe the slaughter of his family wasn't the first time he'd had to see the ones he loved be killed right in front of him. Maybe it had been the last, instead.

Every detail made him want even more to know where this kid came from, and simultaneously want with equal desperation to never, ever know.

Misae slowly nodded, watching as the plate was set down in front of him. He didn’t move to eat, though, his eyes on Eden and Anaya as each politely asked for the type of pizza they wanted - Eden taking sausage and Anaya barbecue chicken with a side of ranch dressing, because she was occasionally an abomination. Eden loved her anyway.

It was a little harder to love her when she dipped pizza in ranch, but he did his best.

It wasn’t until Eden picked his pizza up and took a bite that Misae’s hands moved, slowly, to echo Eden’s movements. Eyes on him all the time. “Hot,” He commented, pulling his fingers back from even the slightest touch. His nose crinkled a little, which had to be maybe the weirdest, cutest expression Eden had ever seen someone make. “Hurts.”

“Yeah,” Vanessa agreed, settling back into her own seat. She slid a freshly opened beer across the table at Eden, who mouthed thank you and batted his eyelashes, watching her smile brighten in return. “Just came out of the oven. You really timed your shower perfectly. You can use a fork if you want, I promise I won’t judge.” She winked.

Misae blinked back at her, then moved one hand hesitantly to touch the silver fork at the right of the plate. He held it like a toddler who’d never seen one before, more or less just closing his fingers in a fist around it, stabbing ineffectually at the sausage until some stuck. 

Anaya, Eden, and Vanessa all watched as he took a piece of sausage with a bit of steaming cheese clinging to it to his mouth, stuck it awkwardly inside, and then hissed as the heat burned his tongue. Then his eyes went wide and he chewed frantically before swallowing and all but throwing his fork at the next bite. 

Misae next jammed his fork hard enough to get a huge chunk of cheese, sausage, and even a little crust to lift up this time. The plate rattled beneath his graceless enthusiasm. 

He shoved the whole thing into his mouth until his cheeks bulged like a chipmunk’s, chewing with effort and seeming to swallow the whole bite nearly whole. 

After that, he gave up on the fork, dropping it with a clatter. He used his hands instead, gathering the remaining pizza together in a sort of lump and eating it until red sauce smeared a circle around his mouth. He made soft grunting noises as he ate, maybe sounds of contentment, curled around the plate as if protecting it from anyone else trying to grab a bite or take it from him. 

Eden was the first one to find words. “He’s, uh… he’s new to pizza.”

“I’ll say,” Vanessa said, slightly faint. “This is the single most disgusting thing I have ever seen, and I cannot possibly look away.” She set her own slice of pizza slowly back down on the plate and took a drink without ever taking her eyes off of Misae’s feasting.

None of them did.

Misae finished every bite on his plate before the other three had even managed to finish a single slice - not that any of them even bothered to try now, too engrossed in the sight of a teenager eating pizza the way he might have torn into an animal carcass if he were in a nature documentary. 

Misae picked up his plate and licked the bits of sauce clinging to the ceramic away. Only when he set it back down, so well cleaned it seemed like it had never had food on it at all, did he seem to realize the others weren’t eating. He swallowed, eyes dancing nervously from Vanessa to Anaya to Eden and back. 

Eden picked up his slice of pizza and set it on Misae’s plate. “Here you go,” He said, voice gentle. His stomach turned over, appetite gone after the spectacle. “Go ahead and have mine, too.”

Misae licked his lips, looking uncertainly down, then nodded and tore into that piece, too.

As he did to Anaya’s barbecue chicken slice.

And Vanessa’s. 

Then he drank the side of ranch straight out of the little bowl, and licked that clean, too.

Eden might never have an appetite again.

“I didn’t know anyone could eat this much pizza at once,” Anaya whispered, sounding less grossed out than just deeply, deeply impressed. 

“I think he’s officially eaten a whole pizza by himself,” Vanessa half-whispered, eyes wide.

She set a breadstick down on Misae’s plate and watched him eat that, too, in three quick bites, barely chewing. “Where the hell is he going to put it all? He weighs like ninety pounds soaking wet.”

Eden closed his eyes. His headache was getting worse. He needed to sleep more than he needed literally anything else on earth. Too bad he only really slept well in the woods. Well, maybe he was so far past tired by now he could sleep anywhere at all?

“Wolves,” Eden said in a tight voice, “Can eat like twenty percent of their own body weight in a single meal. I saw that on something David Attenborough narrated once.”

“Wolves?” Vanessa asked.

The light outside was starting to dim. It’d be another night of a huge harvest moon, Eden thought. Not yet, but soon enough. He’d go outside and look at it for a while, if he could keep himself awake long enough. 

Misae stared back at them, curling into himself again. He flushed, but it just blended with the red sauce around his mouth. It really did look like blood, even starting to darken as it dried. 

He followed Eden’s gaze to the window, looking out at the oncoming night. 

Then back at them.

“Thanks for the food,” He said, without looking up. His voice was thick. He stood so fast he knocked his chair over and then half-limped, half-ran back down the hall. The door to the guest bedroom slammed shut behind him.

Eden exhaled, slowly. “Well…”

“That,” Anaya said, shaking her head, “Was definitely something I have never seen before. And that I hope to never see again.”

“Yeah. Uh.” Vanessa stood. “I’m going to… get us all the rest of the pizzas, I guess. Assuming I can stand to even look at it now.”

Eden hummed assent and took a drink, letting the blend of bitterness, chocolate, and subtle sweet peanut butter sit on his tongue while he stared outside. 

What were they going to find in the bedroom when they went back in?

A scared teenager with a stomach ache?

A wolf with bared teeth?

Or, somehow - impossibly - a creature who was both?

When he looked to the window, the black cat was still there. Still watching them, as the moon began to rise. It blinked, slowly, and Eden drained the rest of his beer.

It was going to be a long night.

-

@finder-of-rings  @burtlederp @deluxewhump @scoundrelwithboba @shrimpwritings 

@yassifiedinformation @wildfaewhump @whatwhump @honeycollectswhump @tundra-tiger

@dont-look-me-in-the-eye @there-will-always-be-blood @fangedcinnamonroll @pigeonwhumps

[cognitivejustice]

To build all of the solar panels, wind turbines, electric vehicle batteries, and other technologies necessary to fight climate change, we’re going to need a lot more metals. Mining those metals from the Earth creates damage and pollution that threaten ecosystems and communities. But there’s another potential source of the copper, nickel, aluminum, and rare-earth minerals needed to stabilize the climate: the mountain of electronic waste humanity discards each year. 

Exactly how much of each clean energy metal is there in the laptops, printers, and smart fridges the world discards? Until recently, no one really knew. Data on more obscure metals like neodymium and palladium, which play small but critical roles in established and emerging green energy technologies, has been especially hard to come by.

Now, the United Nations has taken a first step toward filling in these data gaps with the latest installment of its periodic report on e-waste around the world. Released last month, the new Global E-Waste Monitor shows the staggering scale of the e-waste crisis, which reached a new record in 2022 when the world threw out 62 million metric tons of electronics. And for the first time, the report includes a detailed breakdown of the metals present in our electronic garbage, and how often they are being recycled.

“There is very little reporting on the recovery of metals [from e-waste] globally,” lead report author Kees Baldé told Grist. “We felt it was our duty to get more facts on the table.”

[hopelessly-hopeful-romantic]

I'm on a "healing myself" journey while also having a deteriorating mental health, sooo

[ivygorgon]

AN OPEN LETTER to THE PRESIDENT & U.S. CONGRESS; STATE GOVERNORS & LEGISLATURES

Act Now: Save Public Transit from Extinction!

2 so far! Help us get to 5 signers!

I am writing to highlight the critical state of public transit in the United States and urge your support increased investment in this essential service. The challenges facing public transit—under-investment, over-reliance on car ownership, and racial disparities—have been exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic. It is imperative that we take bold action to address these issues for the benefit of our communities and our future.

Investing in public transit is not merely a matter of convenience; it is a necessity for tackling climate change, advancing equity, supporting essential workers, and fostering economic recovery. The largest source of carbon emissions in the U.S. stems from transportation, and increased investment in public transit can significantly reduce this impact. Furthermore, public transit plays a crucial role in providing equitable access to jobs, schools, and services, especially for those who cannot afford or do not have access to private vehicles.

With over 2.8 million essential workers relying on public transit, our pandemic response and economic recovery hinge on the strength and viability of our transit systems. According to studies, sustained investment in public transportation yields substantial economic returns, with every $1 billion invested annually resulting in approximately $5 billion in additional GDP.

I commend initiatives like the Green New Deal for Transportation and efforts by organizations such as the CHARGE coalition to electrify and expand public transportation. These initiatives are pivotal in shaping a more sustainable and equitable transportation system for all Americans.

Therefore, I urge you to support emergency relief funding for public transit and join the movement to rebuild and improve our public transit system. This is not just an investment in infrastructure; it is an investment in our collective future.

Thank you for your attention to this urgent matter. I look forward to your support in advancing policies that will ensure a robust and accessible public transit system for all.

📱 Text SIGN PZHBAF to 50409

🤯 Liked it? Text FOLLOW IVYPETITIONS to 50409

💘 Q'u lach' shughu deshni da. 🏹 "What I say is true" in Dena'ina Qenaga

[faithfromanewperspective]

something that stuck with me from a church sermon today (an obscure reference to Colossians 1 if anyones curious) that I think really sums up something about us as humans is that we are driven by hope. whatever we have faith in is driven by hope and what we love is driven by hope. and I think that’s why the warnings we’ve seen about things like climate and biodiversity loss often haven’t been successful, and why I’ve seen again and again in my career in sustainability how the way forward is to actually design places that embody the things that we advocate for. because at our core we’re scared, scared of not getting what we need, and we hold on so tightly to now if we’re one of the ones who are winning however temporarily. we don’t disrupt the status quo.

but right now the status quo does need disrupting and the way that we can do this best is by creating something better we can have hope for. hope for kind cities that are rich in biodiversity. hope for housing for the unhoused and hope for lifestyles that can withstand the climate and not make it any worse than it is. I don’t know if subconsciously this has been the hope that’s driven me to study continuously how it is possible to make this happen but I’m pretty imaginative and I’m an artist behind it all, I know how to have a vision. a blurry one that has been shaped over the years yes and that has grown as I grow to include all these people, all this life that I love and it’s also become more specific and adaptive as I figure out exactly what we need. and we’re pretty hopeless right now but I do still think that hope is contagious. and I want to build and describe worlds that we see it in, that capture something within us that wants that; I think that’s how hope is contagious. there are some in this world who hope for something where their ideal life depends on the destruction of others. but if I told you we can create an ideal life better than what we have for you and for everyone, would you believe me?

[witchy-fibro-hippie]

Found out that two of my photos are going to be displayed in a local gallery next month 📷

The theme is personal transformation due to opiate addiction

Here’s the bio I wrote:

Molly has been taking pictures of abandoned properties across New York State since 2008. In 2015, she lost her ”cousin-bestie” Sean to a heroin overdose. Losing him so suddenly and tragically was extremely traumatic. She misses his physical presence in her life and often finds herself looking back on their happy memories, wishing for just one more day together. Taking photographs helps Molly cope with the waves of grief that ebb and flow over her by giving her a creative outlet to express herself emotionally. Getting out and adventuring through these places feeds her soul with restorative energy.

I post my photos on social media but this is the first time my physical prints will be displayed somewhere within my community and I am beyond excited and proud of myself. If ya like my photos, check out my instagram, it’s provided in this post 😁

[ugisfeelings]

just left the most bizarre talk from one of those self-fashioned social justice ‘design studios’ where this 50+ yr old psychiatrist (who is also the daughter of prominent black labor activists who founded a freedom school that she helps run???) bragged abt getting a research fellowship to live in south korea for three months and all she did there was bingewatch kdrama. she then proceeded to proselytize to us for almost 2hrs abt korea's 'ancient eastern mazeway’ model for community recovery from our ‘capitalist traumas’ with back-to-back clips from…. netflix show the bride of habaek.

[nasskg]

Friday was officially my last day at work, yay. On Thursday I begin working in a new place. I'm fucking anxious but very excited still. I get very nervous because I always want to pick up and learn fast, so that my perfectionism is fulfilled from the start. This is an issue which also makes it hard for me to pick up new hobbies: I sometimes get frustrated because I am not doing well from the beginning, so I drop them down altogether. The good thing is that I've noticed this, acknowledged it, and have started working on it. Finding a new job to start is a test for me to work on it, too.

I think that right now, at this point in my life, might be the most social I've been. I've had tons of new people I've met, and I have started going out despite not genuinely wanting to every time. I try to balance it by acknowledging the fact that I am a homebody, but that I also need to push myself not to isolate for prolonged periods and go out more often.

Consequently, I also started going to the gym again, despite feeling uncomfortable around so many people and especially comparing their physical appearance to mine. The most I've done which was a great leap of faith for me, was going against my fears and contacting the driving license school to see when we can eventually schedule driving lessons for me. I'm terrified, petrified and in general just dying by thinking of driving - but I will try to face my fear.

A situation I would love to be in right now - but I can't get around it for real - is to have a boyfriend. I would love to have somebody to hang out with, share intimate moments, do things together, hug and sleep in the same bed. I just can't find a person I like, I can feel comfortable with, I can trust, I can be with. Gay dating has been the biggest constant failure of my life in a sense. I recognize that it takes two to tango, and that it's not 100% my fault, but it kills me not having an intimate relationship with someone compatible.

Before I conclude, I just want to remember to practice some gratitude and say thank you to my family and dogs, my psychiatrist, my antidepressants, and of course my dear self. If it wasn't for us, I wouldn't be here today alive, appreciate the little things in life and going forward.

Now, let's enjoy Sunday.

[delicatelysublimeforester]

Treasure Hunt Alert

Curbside Swap events Saskatoon hosts annual events “Curbside Swaps” on the first Saturday in June = June 1, 2024 and the second Saturday in September =September 14, 2024, allowing residents to place “free” signs on their unwanted items, including appliances, bicycles, tools, furniture, and more. It’s an opportunity to declutter responsibly while contributing to a culture of sharing within the…

[worldhabitatday]

Roundtable 2: Post-crisis urban recovery.

In the prevailing economic situation, local governments have faced increased difficulty to gain increased access to external resources to fund their development.

The local finance framework integrates three key solutions to facilitate this access:

Cities Investment Facility (CIF)

UN-Habitat/UNCDF Guarantee Facility for Sustainable Cities

Rapid Own Source Revenue Analysis (ROSRA)

World Habitat Day is held on the first Monday of October and launches Urban October. The day centers around the global observance, which is held in a different country each year with keynote speakers and roundtable discussions focused on a specific theme. World Habitat Day was first celebrated in 1986 in Nairobi, Kenya, with the theme 'Shelter is my right'.

[helenaheissner]

A Dream of Summer Rain: Chapter 36

Thirty Years Ago

Alistair held his infant daughter to his chest as he rested his head in his wife’s lap. She was already pregnant again, and with his ear on her belly he could hear the growing child kicking against the womb. Another fighter. Good.

Morganna sat nearby, entertaining young Arthur with a dangling pair of keys. They all sat by the hearth on the first floor of Castle Albrecht, rebuilt with the generous funds of House Koenig. Outside, snow fell gently across the Alaskan landscape. It was good to be home, good to be with family.

“Have you thought of any names yet?” Caroline said, stroking his hair. The baby girl on his chest pawed playfully at his face, a few months old and still without a name.

“Guinevere,” Alistair said. “And perhaps Tristan for the one yet unborn. May as well keep up the theme naming.”

“I like it,” Caroline said. “Guinevere Albrecht. She has your eyes.”

“They all do,” Alistair said, beaming proudly as his children.

An explosion ruptured beneath them. Guinevere rolled over the side of his chest, and he just barely caught her before she hit the floor. Arthur started crying, while Morganna began glaring at the year-old boy. She was already developing a cruel streak- she reminded him of his own older sister. He would have to take efforts to stamp that out of her- physically, if need be.

But that wasn’t important just now. He handed Guinevere to Caroline, then told his family to stay put while he investigated.

He went out the door, towards the entrance to the dungeon down the hall. He found it a mess of splinters and shrapnel. He summoned forth his Star and it floated downstairs, revealing only an empty dungeon.

Then it shot back up the stairs and launched directly behind him, up the stairs towards the armory. Hanover’s swords- the Midnight Iron blades he’d carried when he was captured. Alistair chased the Star all up three flights, and when he arrived at the steel door, the armory was under attack by a water drill drawn from the falling snow through a shattered window. A tall figure awash with blue Starlight guided it, slicing a passageway through the steel and then kicking the door in.

Alistair bristled, then drew upon his Light to wake the dead. He couldn’t risk killing this man, not when there was still so much to do with him, so much usage he hadn’t fulfilled yet. They still hadn’t found the Dark Lord, even after all these years of searching. Alistair would have to settle for subduing the Chosen One.

Without even looking back, the Chosen One waved his hands and spoke a half-dozen words in Igbo. The water drill fell apart, but a fresh wave of snow melted and launched through the empty window and slammed into Alistair. Gallons and gallons of water rushed into him, pinning him to the ground and stripping him of breath and forcing pressure into his ears.

Then it stopped. The assault ceased, and Bryant Hanover, the Chosen One, loomed over him and put a sword to his throat. He was a tall man with a wild mane of nappy hair that was beginning to gray, and a beard that had lost even more color. His sapphire Star orbited him, his eyes were solid with blue light, and a thin film of Starlight engulfed the rest of his skin. He held two broadswords in hand, black-bladed and golden-hilted, and he had death in his eyes. “Beg. Or perhaps pray,” the Chosen One said. “It won’t save your life, but it might save your soul.”

Alistair froze. He wasn’t strong enough. This man was simply more powerful than him. He had no idea how Hanover escaped, no idea how any of this was happening. And yet it was; all his life’s work, his mission, was about to come to an end. His chest throbbed, and old bruises on his back, ones put there by his father, by his sister, stung as fresh as they had upon delivery.

A fireball the size of a small truck barreled towards the Chosen One from the hallway entrance. He snapped his fingers and snuffed it out.

“Caroline, no!” Alistair called.

“I’m sorry, lover, but this creature needs to be put back in his cage,” Caroline said, drawing closer. Still holding Guinevere in her arms, both Arthur and Morganna close behind. Hanover balked, his expression one of outrage and disgust. Perfect- Caroline was a brilliant woman: she’d known the children would give Hanover pause. “Now step away from my husband.”

Hanover gathered his jaw, and said, “I’m going to go far away now. Pray that you don’t encounter me or these swords ever again.”

And with that, he swung his blade and carved a hole into the skin of reality. He leaped through it, and the portal vanished with him. And Alistair was left on the floor, screaming as his children wept and his wife tried in vain to comfort him.

***

Present Day

The winding path led through a forest of silver bark flecked with shining sparks of violet. The many conifers wore needles of verdant and cerulean, bending forward in the wintry wind like hands gesturing her forward into the alien night. The path snaked through and up into the foothills that gathered around the dip before the rising central crest of the island. She wondered how big this place actually was- it was hard to tell, given that she couldn’t even figure out how long it took to get from the station at the shore to the center. When it was always night and the moon and stars didn’t move, the forward progress of time became something of a dubious notion. That should be how I know this is a dream, Isabella thought. Time is an illusion here, everything is happening all at once and always will be. Nothing means anything.

The trees yielded to a circle of foothills before the dip. The scents of pine and bark and her own wet clothes mixed together inside her nostrils, and she was pulled out of the deepening tunnel inside her mind. Not dreaming. You don’t smell things in dreams. Which means that place before wasn’t a dream either. Where was that? It looked like somewhere near Boston, but it clearly wasn’t. And the Other One? Maybe she’s… Maybe she’s what Lacy could be? A version of her that goes bad? That takes up with the elves and decides to help with the invasion?

Her own gravity sped the descent through the dip. The fox darted past her on her left, appearing out of seemingly nowhere. The fox trotted happily up the hill towards the castle, looking back every few minutes to make sure Isabella kept within eyeshot. See, it does stuff like this, but then the next minute it’s back to acting like a dumb animal. How much of that is legit? How much awareness does it even have of its behavior? Why is it doing any of this fucking shit?

She ascended the hill, and the castle, Lacy called it the Castle of Midnight, stood like the remnants of broken dams stacked on top of each other and reforged into a new structure. She reached for the diamond wolf’s head, and pushed in.

The relief of the heat was immediate and sublime. She needed to warm herself, and to do so without going into shock. She padded through the library, ignoring the fox on the first rung of the spiral staircase, and went into the saltwater hot springs beneath the castle. She stripped off her wet clothes and lowered herself slowly into the warm water; the cold was gently peeled off of her and replaced with a blissful warmth.

Lacy said that the knight in gold, the Chosen One, would wait for her here. She said that in her dreams, she comes here and takes her full power, and she opens the gates to the Elvenlands and leads them to the earth. Then the Knight follows her back and defeats her. But why does the Knight need to start here? Can’t the Knight start on earth and wait for her there? Maybe it’s so I have an opportunity to beat her here, or to do something to stop her before she can bring the invasion to the earth. Or maybe I wasn’t supposed to get World-Carver as early as I did. Maybe I was supposed to wait for her here.

When her fingers felt normal again, she walked back up the stone stairs naked and greeted the castle as such. She stalked up the stairs, past the fox, until she reached the fourth floor and found her old room in exactly the same state as when she’d left. The hormones had changed her shape in the intervening years, but the clothes in the wardrobe still fit. She selected a long, slinky skirt of golden yellow, black leggings, a white blouse, and a fur coat that looked like something she’d seen wealthy socialites wear in old movies. She did her hair with the brush on the mantle, and stared at herself in the mirror. She didn’t hate her reflection the way she used to, but she still wasn’t its biggest fan. “You always knew this would happen,” she said to her reflection. “You didn’t complete your mission, and so this place took you back. He took you back.”

The fox’s footsteps heralded its arrival, and it had a piece of paper in its mouth. It deposited the slip at her feet, and the paper read, When the snowfall ceases for the morning, meet me on the roof so that we may converse.

She crumpled the paper in her hands, the coarse texture sliding over her calloused skin. She sat cold and quiet at the vanity, applying makeup, tongues of flame whispering from the hearth. She stared out the window and waited, barely feeling her body outside the agony in her chest.

The snow slowed, and then finally, it stopped. There was a morning here after all.

She sheathed World-Carver, attached the scabbard to her side, and headed for the roof. She trawled up the spiral stairs, and when she reached the top, a giant was waiting for her.

He stood over ten feet tall, with skin as white as milk and smooth as an ocean unspooled by doldrums. His face was an inverted oval, sharpened into a steep edge at the chin, framed by a curtain of straight-falling black hair. His ears were even sharper than his chin, and utterly massive. His eyes were the same as always: black sclera, with brown irises and white pupils. He was a lean, tight creature, long and proportionate. He wore a wolf’s pelt around his chest, from a canine that must have been the size of a small car: the white fur blended perfectly into the snowy landscape behind him, like he wore the maw of winter itself around his shoulders. No, no it was more than that: he was the winter itself, coalescing between the sky and the ground, taking shape as a single entity barely contained in his massive frame. Deer antlers erupted from his forehead, sharp at every edge and corner and glowing white. “Hello,” the Elf-King said. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Isabella Ramirez.”

Isabella drew World-Carver, steadied her stance and planted her feet. It was an extension of herself, through which the icey rage of the Pale flowed electrically.

The Elf-King held his hands up, flat-palmed. “I didn’t bring my sword. You wouldn’t attack an unarmed man, would you?”

Isabella’s eyebrow twitched, and she pulled back her sword for a tight swing. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Whyever wouldn’t you?” The Elf-King reached inside his fur coat.

Isabella pivoted out of the swinging stance and instead thrust with World-Carver.

The Elf-King shifted, dodged the strike, and retrieved a thermos and two porcelain mugs from his inner pocket. “Would you like some coffee? I brewed it myself, infused with mocha and just a pinch of sea salt. It’s still hot, if that helps at all.”

Isabella lowered her sword and blinked rapidly, attempting to parse the information she’d been presented with. “I know better than to accept food from the Fae.”

“The Fae?” the Elf-King said, struggling to swallow a swell of raucous laughter, “Isabella Ramirez, when the Fae first awakened on your earth, I was already a grown man. They are younger siblings- no, not even that- they’re infant cousins to me and mine, several generations removed. They’re dwarves to us. They are of your earth, and I am of the Elvenlands.”

“The Elven Lands?”

“Elvenlands. All one word. Like Newfoundland.”

“How- never mind. So what is this place, anyway? Your vacation house?”

“No. I don’t come here very often. I was born here, however. I remember it from the halcyon days of my youth. But now I see only painful memories and empty promises, and the destruction of my family’s legacy. My parents helped build this castle, you know.”

The mass of the structure beneath her feet, the depths to which it plunged and the heights to which it once rose, echoed in Isabella’s mind. “What happened to it then?”

“We were struck down for our hubris and insanity.” The Elf-King poured piping hot coffee into his red porcelain mug which was inscribed with the words ‘Father of the Millenium.’ Isabella balked. “You like it? One of my daughters made it for me.”

Isabella wrinkled her nose.

“I have many children, and their many, many children are my family. But on earth, only one remains: Lacy O’Sullivan. The gentlest of all my daughters.”

“She’d disagree with that.”

“Which part?”

“BOTH!”

“How do you know that? You don’t know her as well as you think you do.”

“You’ve never even met her!”

“Not as such. But I’ve seen her, in the light and in the dark. I know her heart.”

“No you don’t.”

“Why are you so quick to defend her?”

“Because you can’t force her to do anything- you can’t get her to end the world for you.”

“Yes, I’m well-aware of that. That she would take my side was always something of an outside chance. She’s been kicked by her own family too many times to ever consider trusting me. That's why I sent you after her.”

She assumed a fighting stance and swung World-Carver at the Elf-King’s neck.

For a second, the Elf-King simply… Ceased to be. By the time she’d finished her swing, he’d reappeared. It was as if she’d hacked through empty air, and only afterwards was that air filled. Isabella held the sword at the end of its arc, panting heavily, staring wide-eyed at the king as her destructive momentum threatened to drag her over the edge.

“A valiant attempt,” the Elf-King smiled.

Isabella swung again, to identical effect. And again. And again. And again.

“Watch your balance. There’s black ice on the ground. You don’t want to fall and break your neck.”

Isabella screamed and plunged the sword directly forward. The Elf-King performed his vanishing act again, and Isabella stumbled forward and toppled over the edge of the spire.

A massive hand gripped the train of her skirt, yanked her back up like a puppy held by the scruff in its mother’s teeth, and gently placed her back onto the snow-ridden floor.

Isabella’s gulped, attempting to swallow her fear and confusion and anxiety. Her teeth chattered as snowflakes melted on her face and the water soaked into her clothes. “Why did you- why did you save me?” “Because it would be rather anticlimactic if you were to die right now,” the Elf-King said. “And that would upset me. Are you sure you wouldn’t like any coffee? I have sugar and artificial sweetener, if you’re concerned about the bitterness.”

“What is it that you want?” Isabella asked, dusting herself off and re-sheathing World-Carver.

“I already told you that.”

“No, I don’t mean your long-term plans. I mean short-term. Immediate. Why are you here right now? Why am I here? Why did you bring me here?”

The Elf-King cocked a massive black eyebrow. “To reprimand you for your failure. You had a mission. You knew the consequences of failure. And so I brought you back here. Took considerable effort, but here we are.”

“Why me? Why choose me for this in the first place? Why me, of all fucking people!?”

“In truth? Because you were already here.”

“... What?”

“You weren’t originally brought here by me. For whatever reason, you fell into the Pale. For whatever reason, the Pale made a claim on you. You are connected to this place, by some mysterious design. If I could pry the information out of that damnable fox, I would, but I cannot. I can simply… Pull on the thread. Drag you here. Keep you here. For as long as I want, until you give me what I want.”

“But why do you want it?! It doesn’t make any sense- why do you want me to kill Lacy!? You need her! Did you want me to fail?” Isabella’s eyes went wide and her arms went limp as the realization shot through her mind. “Oh God, you did, didn’t you? You wanted me to die provoking her, to push her towards you because she thinks she can’t trust anyone.”

“That was a desirable outcome, yes, though not the only one.”

“What are you… What do you mean by that?”

“If Lacy were to die, then the power of her Star would die with her. Unless, of course, her corpse were devoured. Perhaps by a certain King of the Ghouls, who wants the power for himself so that he might weaken the boundaries between worlds. Something about saving magic, I believe.”

“You… You’re on Alistair’s side,” Isabella said, the gears falling into place in her mind.

The Elf-King smirked. “I wouldn’t go quite that far. He’s certainly not on my side, after all. But his goal, and my goal… They are, at this moment, somewhat compatible. Especially with the Chosen One missing in action. Sometimes I regret helping him break out of that cage in Castle Albrecht- I feel it may have done more harm than good long term. But I digress. Now, if Alistair Albrecht were to weaken the barriers, it might just be enough for my forces to break through. And if he were to win Lacy to his side, well, that works too- the same end goal would still be reached. I doubt he’ll manage that, but his efforts of late have given me some hope.”

“No, no there’s no way-”

“She’s breaking. Like the glass that surrounds the worlds. Perhaps I will have another daughter to call my own. But it is no thanks to you, when you were too cowardly to perform or even attempt to perform a very simple task. Now I’m going to leave you here to rot. Enjoy oblivion, Isabella Ramirez.”

And then he was gone, dissolved into the darkness. Isabella dropped to her knees and stared up at the moons, and snow began to fall once more.

***

Hello, all!

Buy my book here:

Follow all my socials here:

and join my patreon and substack here:

[townpostin]

Jamshedpur Police Bust Armed Robbery Gang, Three Arrested

City SP Mukesh Lunayat leads operation to crack high-profile looting cases Swift action by law enforcement brings relief to residents as notorious criminals behind recent armed robberies are apprehended. JAMSHEDPUR – City police have successfully cracked a series of armed robbery cases, leading to the arrest of three notorious criminals. "This operation demonstrates our commitment to maintaining…

[natalienathan]

Natalie R Nathan

𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣, 2023

16”x 20”

Acrylic, kroma crackle, pastels and oil pastels, essential oils, hair dye, and crushed eggshells on canvas

[faezrblazr]

Did some walking around between meetings today.