#Company documents renewal

[age-of-moonknight]

“New Moon,” Moon Knight: Fist of Khonshu (Vol. 2/2024), #1.

Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Alessandro Cappuccio; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[kanakkupillai2007]

Company Registration in Mumbai: A Comprehensive Guide

Company Registration in Mumbai: A Comprehensive Guide

Unlock the doors to countless opportunities in Mumbai's bustling business landscape. Get your Private Limited Company registered hassle-free and start your entrepreneurial journey today! 🏙️📈

Step-by-Step Procedure for Company Registration in Mumbai:

Name Approval:

Select an exclusive business name and seek approval from the Ministry of Corporate Affairs (MCA).

Digital Signature Certificate (DSC):

Obtain Digital Signature Certificates for the proposed directors and shareholders.

Director Identification Number (DIN):

Apply for DIN for all proposed directors.

Drafting of Memorandum and Articles of Association:

Prepare the MOA and AOA, defining the company's objectives and rules.

Filing with ROC:

File the necessary documents, including MOA, AOA, and other required forms, with the Registrar of Companies (ROC).

Payment of Fees:

Submit the required registration fees following the company's authorized capital.

Certificate of Incorporation:

Upon approval, the ROC issues a Certificate of Incorporation.

PAN and TAN Application:

Submit applications for Permanent Account Number (PAN) and Tax Deduction and Collection Account Number (TAN).

Bank Account Opening:

Open a business bank account in the company's name.

GST Registration:

Enrol for Goods and Services Tax (GST) registration if it applies.

Labor Identification Number (LIN):

For specific industries, obtain a Labor Identification Number.

ESI and PF Registration:

Register for Employee State Insurance (ESI) and Provident Fund (PF) if applicable.

Professional Tax Registration:

Enrol for Professional Tax with the local authorities.

Shop and Establishment Act Registration:

Register under the Shops and Establishments Act.

Post-Incorporation Compliance:

Fulfil ongoing compliance requirements, such as filing annual returns and financial statements.

Documents Required for Company Registration:

Provide documentation verifying the identity and address of directors and shareholders.

PAN Card for Directors.

Passport-sized Photographs.

Proof of Registered Office Address.

MOA and AOA.

Benefits of Company Registration in Mumbai:

Legal Recognition:

Gain legal status as a separate entity.

Limited Liability:

Protect personal assets from business liabilities.

Access to Funding:

Attract investments and loans more quickly.

Business Opportunities:

Open doors to government tenders and contracts.

Credibility:

Enhance trust among clients and partners.

Latest 15 Questions and Answers:

1. How long does it take to register a company in Mumbai?

The process typically takes 10-15 days, subject to government processing times.

2. Is it possible for a foreign national to serve as a director in an Indian company? 

Certainly, fulfilling specific prerequisites is necessary for a foreign citizen to serve as a director.

3. What is the minimum capital requirement for company registration?

There is no minimum capital requirement.

4. Are there any tax benefits for registered companies?

Companies may avail of tax benefits and incentives based on their business activities.

5. Can a single person start a private limited company?

Yes, a single person can create a Person Company (OPC).

6. What is the role of a Company Secretary in registration?

A Company Secretary is not mandatory for all companies but for larger companies.

7. How often are annual returns required to be filed?

Once a year, it is necessary to submit annual returns to the Registrar of Companies.

8. Can a company change its registered office address?

Indeed, a company can alter its registered office address upon obtaining approval from its shareholders.

9. Is it mandatory to have a physical office for registration?

Yes, a registered office must have a physical address.

10. What is the difference between private and public limited companies?

Private companies have restrictions on the transfer of shares and a limited number of members, while public companies can have more members and freely transferable shares.

11. Are there any post-registration compliances for companies?

Companies must file annual returns, conduct board meetings, and comply with tax regulations.

12. Can a company operate in multiple states?

Yes, a company can operate nationally and must comply with state-specific regulations.

13. Can a company change its name after registration?

Yes, the name can be changed, subject to approval from the ROC.

14. Can a foreign company register a branch office in Mumbai?

Yes, a foreign company can register a branch office in Mumbai.

15. What is the penalty for non-compliance with ROC regulations?

Failure to comply may result in fines, legal proceedings, and the company's removal from the registry.

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Private Limited Company Registration in Bangalore

Private Limited Company Registration in Coimbatore

Private Limited Company Registration in Hyderabad

Private Limited Company Registration in Pune

Private Limited Company Registration in India

Private Limited Company Registration in Ahmedabad

Related Keywords:

#MumbaiBusiness #MumbaiEntrepreneurs #CompanyRegistrationinMumbai #PrivateLimitedCompany #CompanyFormation #BusinessFormation #BrandProtection #LegalCompliance #StartupSuccess #BusinessGrowth #LegalRecognition #Entrepreneurship #LegalShield #CorporateSuccess #BusinessRegistration #InvestorConfidence #SmallBusinessSuccess #BusinessIncorporation #LegalEntity #LimitedLiability #StartupJourney #CorporateStructure #BusinessOwnership #LegalFormality #FinancialSecurity #NewVenture #EntrepreneurLife 

[cadeveshthakur]

How to apply for IEC|Get Import Export Code Instantly|Register yourself on DGFT website|

[satcorporate]

What is a business setup consultant in Dubai?

A business setup consultant in Dubai is a professional who provides guidance and assistance to entrepreneurs and businesses looking to establish a new business or expand an existing one in Dubai, United Arab Emirates (UAE).

The consultant has extensive knowledge of the legal, regulatory, and procedural requirements for setting up a business in Dubai and can help clients navigate the complex process of obtaining the necessary licenses, permits, and approvals.

Some of the services provided by a business setup consultant in Dubai may include:

Identifying the most suitable legal structure for the business (e.g., free zone company, mainland company, offshore company).

Identifying the most suitable legal structure for a business involves determining the appropriate type of legal entity that will meet the needs and objectives of the business while complying with local laws and regulations.

In Dubai, there are several legal structures available, including free zone companies, mainland companies, and offshore companies. Each structure has its own advantages and disadvantages in terms of ownership restrictions, taxation, and regulatory requirements.

For example, free zone companies allow for 100% foreign ownership and offer tax benefits, but restrict the company's operations to within the designated free zone area. Mainland companies, on the other hand, allow for wider market access but may require a local partner or sponsor and have higher licensing and regulatory requirements.

A business setup consultant in Dubai can help entrepreneurs and businesses assess their specific needs and objectives and advise on the most appropriate legal structure for their business, taking into consideration factors such as ownership, taxation, regulatory requirements, and operational scope.

Assisting with company registration and licensing.

Assisting with company registration and licensing involves helping entrepreneurs and businesses navigate the process of obtaining the necessary permits and approvals to legally establish their business in Dubai.

In Dubai, the process of company registration and licensing can be complex and time-consuming, requiring adherence to various legal and regulatory requirements. A business setup consultant can help streamline this process by guiding clients through the necessary steps and paperwork, providing advice on compliance with local regulations, and liaising with government authorities on their behalf.

1.            Some of the services a business setup consultant may offer in this area include:

2.            Assisting with the preparation and submission of company registration documents.

3.            Facilitating the registration of the business with relevant government agencies.

4.            Advising on the necessary licenses and permits required for the business.

5.            Helping to obtain the necessary approvals from regulatory bodies.

6.            Providing ongoing support and guidance to ensure compliance with local regulations.

Ultimately, the goal of a business setup consultant is to ensure that the company registration and licensing process is carried out efficiently and effectively, allowing the business to legally operate in Dubai as quickly as possible.

Providing advice on tax, accounting, and auditing requirements.

Providing advice on tax, accounting, and auditing requirements involves helping entrepreneurs and businesses understand their financial obligations and ensure compliance with relevant laws and regulations in Dubai.

A business setup consultant can provide guidance on a range of financial matters, including:

1.            Taxation: Advising on local tax regulations and requirements, including corporate income tax, value-added tax (VAT), and other applicable taxes.

2.            Accounting: Assisting with the setup of accounting systems and processes, including bookkeeping and financial reporting.

3.            Auditing: Providing guidance on audit requirements, including the appointment of auditors, preparation of audit reports, and compliance with local auditing standards.

4.            Financial planning: Offering advice on financial planning and forecasting, including cash flow management and budgeting.

5.            Compliance: Ensuring compliance with local regulations and reporting requirements, including filing of tax returns and other financial statements.

By providing expert advice and guidance in these areas, a business setup consultant can help entrepreneurs and businesses navigate the financial landscape in Dubai and ensure compliance with local regulations, minimizing the risk of financial penalties and other legal issues.

Helping to find suitable office space and negotiating leases.

Helping to find suitable office space and negotiating leases involves assisting entrepreneurs and businesses in locating and securing appropriate commercial real estate to support their operations in Dubai.

A business setup consultant can help businesses identify suitable office space based on their specific needs and budget, taking into consideration factors such as location, accessibility, size, and infrastructure. They can also assist with negotiating favorable lease terms and conditions, ensuring that the lease agreement is in compliance with local laws and regulations.

Some of the services a business setup consultant may offer in this area include:

1.            Conducting market research to identify available office spaces that meet the client's needs.

2.            Arranging property viewings and providing advice on lease terms and conditions.

3.            Negotiating lease agreements on behalf of the client.

4.            Assisting with the setup of utilities and other services.

5.            Providing ongoing support and advice on property management and maintenance.

By providing assistance with office space location and lease negotiations, a business setup consultant can help businesses establish a physical presence in Dubai, ensuring that they have the necessary facilities to support their operations and achieve their business goals.

In summary, a business setup consultant in Dubai can be a valuable resource for entrepreneurs and businesses looking to establish or expand their operations in Dubai, providing expertise and support to help navigate the often-complex process of setting up a business in the UAE.

For More Details Visit Us...

Dubai Business Setup Services

[robertreich]

The Truth About Immigrants and the Economy

Immigrants are good for the economy and our society! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

For centuries, immigration has been America’s secret sauce for economic growth and prosperity.

But for just as long, immigrants have been an easy scapegoat.

One of the oldest, ugliest lies is to falsely smear immigrants as criminals.

It’s just not true. Crime is way down in America. Anyone who says otherwise is fearmongering.

And whatever crime there is is not being driven by immigration. Immigrants, regardless of citizenship status, are 60% less likely to be incarcerated for committing crimes than U.S.-born citizens.

Maybe that’s why border cities are among America’s safest.

Immigration opponents also claim immigrants are a drag on the economy and a drain on government resources.

Rubbish!

Quite the opposite, the major reason immigrants are coming to America is to build a better life for themselves and their families, contributing to the American economy.

The long-term economic benefits of immigration outweigh any short-term costs. The nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office estimates that adding more immigrants as workers and consumers — including undocumented immigrants — will grow America’s economy by about $7 trillion over the next decade. And those immigrants would increase tax revenue by about $1 trillion, shrinking the deficit and helping pay for programs we all benefit from.

Immigrants of all statuses pay more in taxes than they get in government benefits. Research by the libertarian Cato Institute found first-generation immigrants pay $1.38 in taxes for every $1 they receive in benefits,

This is especially true for undocumented immigrants, who pay billions in taxes each year, but are excluded from almost all federal benefits. After all, you need documentation to receive federal benefits. Guess what undocumented immigrants don’t have. Hello?

And of course, one of the most common anti-immigrant claims also isn’t true.

No. Immigrants are not taking away jobs that Americans want. Undocumented immigrants in particular are doing some of the most dangerous, difficult, low-paying, and essential jobs in the country.

Despite what certain pundits might tell you, immigration has not stopped the U.S. from enjoying record-low unemployment.

And as the Baby Boom generation moves into retirement, young immigrants will help support Social Security by providing a thriving base of younger workers who are paying into the system. The fact that so many immigrants want to come here gives America an advantage over other countries with aging populations, like Germany and Japan.  

What’s more, immigrants are particularly ambitious and hardworking. They are 80% more likely to start a new business than U.S. born citizens. Immigrant-founded businesses also impressively comprise 103 companies in last year’s Fortune 500.

And immigrants continue to add immeasurably to the richness of American culture. We should be celebrating them, not denigrating them.

It’s time to speak the facts and the truth. We need immigrants to keep our economy — and our country — vibrant and growing. They are not “poisoning the blood” of our nation. They’re renewing and restoring it.

[stayinlimbo]

We Become We

pairing: husband!lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.02k note:  i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡

Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it? 

You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee. 

(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?” “Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”

“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)

Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you. 

And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers. 

Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls. 

You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.” 

You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them. 

Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth. 

Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row? 

Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.

That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?

Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?

You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face. 

It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh. 

Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief. 

And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.

It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.

The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep. 

…

Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too. 

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

[silken-moonlight]

Older Alpha and Human waitress/ Part 4

A/N: Hello again! I am back with part 4 of this series. I have a lot of fun with developing the plot and characters. I am hoping I am not overdoing it in any way shape of form. Also we have now the Moodboard and the Introduction. Also here you'll find part 3 if you are interested. I love you guys so much -Swan/Moon

Desmonds POV

The next day was similar to the days before. He went to the meetings in the morning and noon, speaking with the other alphas about the pack territory. The problem had been that there was a new pack forming and they had demanded space or else they would have taken themselves said space. This of course could not have been permitted, since that would have ended in a massacre. The human government would have not been amused to cover up a slaughter between two packs and so they had to find a way without blood. While Desmond knew better, some days he wished they would just fight it out. Atlest then there wouldn’t have been so many meetings and fights in the meeting room. His thoughts were captivated by something else anyway…He was worried for his mate, she had looked so distressed. The longing to just take her away from all her worries had never been as strong as in that moment.

The alpha tried to cheer himself up, he would see her again today. Maybe would even make her smile when he brought her the books she had left behind. Of course was he aware that it might have looked a little weird…he just could not help himself. The urge to spoil and pamper his little mate was overwhelming. In his mind he had already planned their first trip to his cabin. He would take her there before they would officially return to the pack village. Thinking about all the things they could do…while Desmond really tried to keep his thoughts pure…it was not as easy. His inner wolf whined and scratched against the walls of his mind. The primal needs he felt were strong, he craved to touch his mates soft skin. To kiss her plump lips, to make her feel safe in his arms. To undress her slowly before- Desmond stopped his thoughts right there. He really didn’t want to get a boner in the middle of a political discussion.

A few hours later, the meetings and work was done for the day. Desmond would do the paperwork later, he had gotten an email from Isaac with some documents he needed him to look at. Desmond’s Pack had a few companies under their name or were part of them, while most things were equally shared, two of the companies were under his name. There also were many contracts he had to look at, work with or renew. 60% of the money earned ran into the Pack fund, all pack members that were working full time also gave away 10% of their salary to the pack fund. With that money were paid a lot of things like the maintenance of the packhouses, insurance costs, school and kindergarten places, student loans, cars that were free to use amongst the Pack…the list went on and on. Desmond himself had brought this concept to the pack after seeing it being absolutely successful in another pack. Since he did that, his pack had not only grown a lot but also was one of the most peaceful. That comes along with being an actual community. Desmond had learned the importance of acceptance, beginning to help werewolves who had not such a good start in their life or a rough time…The Alpha wondered what his mate would think of all of that. With how sweet she seemed, he was sure she would adore his work.

With his mind occupied by that thought, he walked into the restaurant. He sat down in his usual booth…but his beloved was not there. Desmond ordered by her colleague, waiting for her to arrive. But she did not come. His heart sunk…where was she?

Your POV

It had been your day off when your father had a bad episode of pain. His back and hip were hurting so much that he couldn’t get up from his bed. Of course you took two days off and stayed with him day and night. You had called his doctor who had taken the time to do a home visit. He had given your father some medications that eased his pain for a short time. Today was the first day that he felt better. Right now he sat in the garden, Pumpkin and Spice laying at his feet, enjoying the sun. Your mum and you were baking blueberry muffins, the kitchen smelled deliciously like the home baked goods. Tonight you would work again, but would always be available for your parents to call.

Initially you had wanted to become a nurse, but the condition of your parents has kept you occupied. You were unable to stay away from home too long, so you found a job that only would be in the afternoon and evening. That's how you ended up in the Sailor Boy, utterly grateful for your job and understanding boss. It may not have been what you wanted at first, but you were more than grateful to have something. Your mum and you put the muffins in the oven, setting the timer and sitting down. Your phone beeped and you looked at it.

William: Hey love, I am in town again, how you doing?

Y/N: Will, haven’t heard from you in forever! I’m doing fine.

William: Nice to hear that, yeah, I was on a big hike with Jeannie. Want to meet up and catch up?

Y/N: Sure, but I am only free in the mornings and noon, you okay with that?

William: Absolutely, how about tomorrow? In our Café?

Y/N: Sounds like a plan, how about 9 am and eat breakfast together.

William: Deal, see you there.

You were quite excited to see Will again. He was one, actually the only, friend you had left. Most of your friends had stopped texting you when your parents' conditions worsened. Since you refused to go out and party, which wasn’t your thing anyways, they stopped making the effort. You tried to do other things with them like going shopping together, movie nights or hikes together. That wasn’t really what most of your friends wanted. So they and you started to text less and less until you lost contact. The two friends you still had were William and Amanda. Amanda began to use you as her personal therapist, trying everything to get your attention. Manipulating you to be available to her at all times. Will told you she was bad news, you didn't listen. The brutal fallout came eventually. Both of you were left hurt.

So that only left Will. Will had no one but his girlfriend Jeannie and you, he had gone no contact with his family as soon as he moved out. For a short time he had lived with you and your family, when his flat had caught fire and he was left homeless. Will didn’t want to be a bother, but you refused to let him sleep in a dingy hotel. That was two years ago. Will had also been the one to tell you about Werewolves and other magical creatures. You didn’t believe him, that was until he had transformed into a Werewolf in front of you. You had been…a little out of it afterwards. However when he explained everything and you swore secrecy, everything went on as usual. Honestly the knowledge of magical creatures didn’t affect your daily life in the slightest. Shortly after the housefire William met his wonderful girlfriend Jeannie, she was a travel and hiking blogger. The two of them hiked and traveled the world together, often sponsored by some big company. William took the pictures and videos while Jeannie was the model. Jeannie was a lovely person, kind and so confident. You two got along so well that Will often joked if he was even needed when you all met up.

The next hours passed quickly, you thinking about tomorrow, the muffins being ready and eating a late lunch with your parents. You got ready for your work and took the bus into the city.

Half an hour later you arrived at your workplace, quickly going up into the staffrom an changing into your work clothes. After that you went down, doing your usual routine. Not even forty minutes had passed when a certain somebody entered the restaurant. Desmond, you remembered his name, was dressed in a black suit, his hair in a bun and his beard must have been freshly cut and formed. You bet that he smelled like the most expensive perfume.

You smiled at him kindly: “Hi there, how are you doing?” You asked him. Why did he look so relieved? You were missing something, you just didn’t know what. “I am good, wonderful actually.” He stepped with you on the side and a worried look was on his handsome face, his gray eyes were filled with compassion. “Is everything okay? You looked distressed the other day.” He asked, his voice was soft. Actually worried. Your bottom lip trembled, a sudden wave of sadness and exhaustion washing over you. If you thought too hard about it, you would cry. However, you caught yourself. Faking a smile you tried to ease his worry: “Yeah everything is alright, don’t worry.” You looked up at him, he was far taller than you. “May I ask what happened?” You nodded slowly: “Well my parents are chronically ill. My father had a bad episode of pain and needed me.”

The handsome man, Desmond, looked at you again with such compassion. “I know I might overstep, but you left the books behind and I took the freedom to buy them for you.” He placed a black paper bag in your hand. Your eyes went wide and you looked up at him absolutely surprised. “I cannot accept these.” You quickly said. Desmond chuckled:” I insist.” You felt guilty, you must have looked so distressed that he wanted to help you. “Let me pay you back.” You tell him, wanting to get your money. “If you pay me back I will give it as your tip.” Desmond said with a grin. “Has anyone told you before that you are stubborn?” You said with a smile. Desmond chuckled: “Actually yes. And please accept the books. I am so grateful for our conversations. After a day at the office I always look forward to it.” You grinned and answered: “Here I was thinking you’re always returning for our town's famous cocktails.” Both of you laughed at that.

“Thank you, really.” You then said a little more serious again. You blushed slightly, but then quickly remembered what you had told yourself before: He was just kind, not interested in you. You reminded yourself that he was older, a businessman and very surely not interested in a waitress from a medium sized town.

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

*image of Jensen Ackles is used with permission of the photographer Mandi Lea Photogtaphy.

Summary: After a significant career shift and subsequent break-up, Brandy Miller moves to Wayne County, Pennsylvania, to be closer to family. She invests in a small, sight-unseen condo in a “quiet, charming neighborhood with views of the Poconos and neighbors you can count on.” One particular neighbor seems to have a unique interpretation of what that means.

Characters: Brandy Miller x Soldier Boy, Serge Bernard, Kimiko Miyashiro (mentioned), Maggie Shaw, Annie January, Hughie Campbell, MM (mentioned), John James Davis (AKA Homelander but just as SB’s 21yo son), Butcher (mentioned)

Warnings/tags in this chapter: 18+ ONLY, sexual tension, sexual objectification, rough and degrading sex dream, alcohol, Soldier Boy is a terrible father, explicit sexual content

Words in this chapter: 3,500

Author’s notes: Soldier Boy will be referred to by many names in this fic. The full name I’ve given him is Benjamin James Davis III.

Thank you to @brrose-apothecary @stusbunker and @talltalesandbedtimestories for pre-reads and green lights!

This fills my #Inconsiderate Neighbor square for @jacklesversebingo

CHAPTER ONE

The last five years have been wild. A global pandemic impacted our life choices and decisions more than any other event in the previous 50 years. Career shifts, resettling in vastly different communities, honest declarations of who we are as people and who we love — these things I’ve witnessed first-hand.

I was an executive for a nationally renowned advertising agency. My partner of six years was a successful stock trader. About three weeks into our second lockdown, I realized I couldn’t stand the guy. I went through every reason why I’d have stayed for so long if he was so horrible. I wondered if he hated me too. Then one day, he told me.

“Brandy, I can’t do this anymore.”

He didn’t hate me; he just didn’t love me. He wasn’t horrible; he just wasn’t for me. 

Working remotely gave me a similarly renewed perspective on my career choice. I worked 12 hours a day from my home office overlooking Central Park, drank a bottle of wine to go to sleep, then got up the next morning to do it all over again. Meanwhile, everyone in America was tightening their purse strings on ad spend.

Now, I’m in the Honesdale borough of Wayne County, Pennsylvania, working as a freelance document review specialist. I’m single, own my two-bedroom condo outright, and spend Sundays with my sister Amber and her two teenagers over in Damascus. 

These changes introduced me to a set of concepts that I had previously denied. I thought I was happy, successful, content. 

But I’m told that a constant desire for more hinders contentment. Comparison is the thief of joy, as they say. A sense of entitlement will always bite you in the ass. A lack of gratitude prevents you from appreciating what you already have and fosters a need for something beyond.

As it happens, I have a prospective client meeting in Scranton this afternoon, and my brand-new Jeep won’t start. I guess they don’t make them like they used to. 

“Brandy, mon amie, where are you?” my friend Serge answers my call with worry in his voice.

“My truck won’t start,” I whine.

Last month, I complained to Serge and his partner-in-all-things Kimiko that government work was beginning to bore me. I like new things, which is a bummer, considering desire hinders contentment. Kimiko offered to introduce me to her brother, who works with one of the largest healthcare companies in the country. 

“Oh, cher...” Serge laments in sympathy.

“I know, I know. And this fucking podunk town’s got like two cabs and one Lyft serving the entire county.”

I roll my neck and eyes in frustration, and in my periphery, I glimpse a man inside a single garage stall working on a motorcycle. I’ve never seen him before, but judging by the military-themed tattoos, evident dexterity with the tools he’s wielding, and his proportions, he’s the ‘asshole military contractor’ my next-door neighbor, Maggie, told me about when I moved in. 

Serge frets in Frenglish on the other end of the line before returning to the point. “On se’n occupe. We will handle it.”

I watch my newly discovered neighbor deftly flex and twist and wonder if he’s as adept with other motor vehicles. “Please tell Kimiko I’m sorry and understand if this opportunity’s off the table now.”

My words are meant for Serge, but the man not 10 yards away sends me a subtle, knowing look. There’s an enduring facet of competence and perception in every flick of his eyes and wrist, every shrug of his thick, broad shoulders, and the taunting slant of his jaw. He knows I’m watching him and knows I’m in a bind. 

He pities me.

I tell Serge that I’ll let him know how things go with the car before ending the call then tentatively head toward my neighbor’s garage stall.

“Hey there, I’m Brandy.” I thumb over my shoulder, indicating the general area of my condo. “Are you BJ?”

He smirks at his greasy wrench before answering, “BJ, Soldier Boy, Captain,” then pauses as he drags his eyes from his task to pin me in place. “Take your pick, sweetheart.”

He looks me down and up, slow and heavy, licking his lips. His demeanor would be comical at best and frightening at worst if I weren’t so stunned by the sheer audacity. As he unfolds from a squat, his muscles shift and grind under his sweat-slicked skin. He wipes his filthy hands on a filthier rag and saunters toward me. I have never in my life been so blatantly objectified right to my face.

“Need a ride?” he asks, meeting my eyes again. The rounded toes of his grungy work boots tap the points of my Jimmy Choos.

“I-” I attempt to speak but don’t know what to say. I should be outraged. I should tell him he can’t just look at people like that. He can’t just invade my space.

He tilts his head, and his eyes drop to my chest. “You're all flushed, Brandy. Feeling okay?” He drops his rag to the concrete before ghosting a finger along my collarbone.

Air returns to my lungs and the flush in my chest rises up my throat to my face. I smack his hand away and take a step back. “What the fuck?! Do you always harass and assault women half your size, or is it just me?”

Centuries of gaslighting threaten to drown me from one single look. And then he speaks. “My bad. Didn’t know you were a prude.”

He raises his hands in feigned surrender before returning to his bike.

“I’m a prude because I don’t like being evaluated like a pig going to slaughter?”

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Listen—no harm, no foul, alright? I thought you were game; you’re not, no big deal.”

“Man, I came over here as a neighbor to introduce myself. You clearly heard part of my call and know my car isn’t starting. I thought, since you’re in here working on a motorcycle, you might also know something about cars.”

He nods. “Got it. Is that where we’re at right now? You want me to take a look at your car?”

“Jesus- what?! Are you for real?”

“No? Okay, then.” He turns his back, and I stare at him for a moment.

Thoughts swirl through my mind. Where is your spine, Brandy? Show him what you’re made of. This isn’t over until you say it is.

A slave to my guts and ego, I’m determined to re-engage. “Yes.” 

He slowly faces me again, eyebrows raised and head tilted in question. “Yes?”

“Yes. I’d appreciate it if you’d take a look at my Jeep.”

His expression shifts—softens, some might say, but his eyes remain hard and cold. “‘Course. What kinda neighbor would I be if I didn’t?”

He strides toward my two-car stall across from his, and I follow with no other excuse than my competitive spirit and morbid fascination with opposition. 

“You pay extra for two stalls?” he asks, glancing at the gym area I’ve set up beside my Jeep before rounding its hood.

From what I’ve gathered in this brief and bracing interaction, Captain BJ Benjamin Soldier Boy isn’t a small-talk kind of person, but I’m not sure yet why he’s asking a simple question like that. I decide to answer as simply.

“Yeah.”

He nods and gestures to the driver’s seat. “Pop the hood.”

I watch through my windshield and the slant of space between the hood and my dash as he quickly pokes and prods at things I know nothing about. Less than two minutes later, he drops the hood shut and walks around to the open driver’s side door.  

“Try it now.” He’s rubbing his hands together and his brow is slightly furrowed like he wishes he hadn’t tossed that rag aside in his garage.

I turn the key in the ignition, and it starts with no issue. 

My morning started with limited knowledge of this man and the inner workings of my Jeep. I had a single goal in mind to expand my client portfolio. I did not grow my business, I have not learned anything new about my vehicle, and my introduction to my neighbor has provided me with very little satisfaction. 

“Coupla loose terminals. It happens with new cars. Gotta break ‘em in.”

I flick my eyes to meet his. He holds my gaze, licks his bottom lip back between his teeth, then backs away before strolling away. 

+

“He’s the fucking poster boy for misogyny.”

Maggie nods as she tops off my glass of wine. “Yeah, calling him an asshole is an insult to assholes, honestly.”

“I felt like I was transported back to the 1950s or something. He’s a caricature of misogyny.”

“The embodiment,” Maggie replies, settling back into her sofa and sipping her wine.

“Does he think that works on women? Like, are there women in his sphere who respond favorably to his behavior? He can’t be rewarded by it. Maybe he’s conducting a social experiment.”

Maggie laughs. “You’re giving him way too much credit.”

“Then why?”

Maggie stares at me for a beat. “The question is, why do you care?”

I’ve thought of nothing else since he left me in my garage yesterday morning. I felt defeated by him. Used, somehow. Inconsequential in the end.

“I hate how he made me feel.”

Maggie remains silent and intent. She’s a great listener, and she never judges.

“I had a dream about him last night.”

She nods. “And how did that make you feel?”

I shake my head and draw a deep breath. It made me feel hot and wild. I was angry and hungry for him. Or for redemption, revenge, or victory. 

“It makes no sense. We interacted for like 10 minutes and I haven’t seen him since. That’s why I care. I can’t get him out of my head. I keep thinking of what I should’ve said or done instead of standing there like a deer in headlights.”

“Don’t let your pride rule you with him. He has no morals, no decency. You won’t win.” 

“You think I’m trying to win something.” 

She’s right. Maggie and I are a lot alike, but she’s smarter and more cautious than I am. Somewhere along the line, she learned a lesson I have yet to let sink in. She learned to resist a challenge and walk away. 

“Aren’t you?”

I shrug. “Maybe.”

“Let’s change the subject,” Maggie suggests. “Did you get that meeting rescheduled, or is it dead?”

I fill her in on my chat with Kimiko. Kimiko’s brother Kenji was gracious enough to reschedule for next week, and I decided it best to go up the night before and spend the night with her and Serge in case I have any other car problems. 

Maggie opens a second bottle of wine and we proceed with our binge of Dead To Me on Netflix. 

+

I’m face down on my weight bench, straddling the padded seat with his fist in my hair and his cock hammering me from behind. He’s saying things to me, violent, hateful words, calling me names.

My wrists are bound, I’m blindfolded, and I am so wet. So wet from his rough hands, the way he slaps my ass and hips and pulls my hair. His voice is deep and rich, and it dominates the atmosphere and my mind. 

He’s had me so many times already, and he wants more. He wants to devour me. He can’t get enough of me.

And I never want him to stop. He treats me like a whore, tells me I’m his whore, and I can’t stop soaking his cock and slicking up the bench. 

“You fucking love my cock.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck me.”

I wake up in a sweat after a third night dreaming of him. I feel fractured and unlike myself. I’ve never wanted the kinds of things I’m dreaming about him. I’ve never wanted a man to degrade me or tie me up. 

And this man is a pig of a man. 

But I can’t get him out of my head.

I’m aching and breathless. My sheets are soaked from sweat and my pussy. I reach into my nightstand for my vibrator to soothe the twitching between my legs and rid him from my mind. I think about all the things that usually get me off, but he just keeps coming back around with big, rough hands and dirty words, and teeth that score my tender flesh.

I come silently, arching into my mattress, imagining his hands around my wrists and his cock driving into me hard.

+

When I told the newlyweds who live across the hall from my nemesis that I’d never been to our neighborhood bar, they invited me to join them for burgers and beers. 

“I know it doesn’t look like much, but Butcher’s is an institution. I literally grew up in this bar,” Annie tells me as her husband Hughie distributes sticky menus and napkin roll-ups. 

“I’ll get a pitcher,” Hughie says and heads to the bar.

“I like it. Thanks for bringing me.”

I glance around the space, taking in old pictures and carved sentiments in the wooden beams. It still smells faintly of cigarette smoke after decades of No Smoking laws have been enforced. It reminds me of my favorite New York dive bar.

“Well, I’m glad. I’m sure it can’t be easy to transplant to a place like Honesdale where everybody knows everybody.”

“You know, it hasn’t been too bad. Between you two and Maggie, I’m meeting all the neighbors and learning the ropes like a real local.”

I don’t mention the man who’s rapidly infiltrated every dark corner of my brain since we’re having such a nice time. I don’t want to spoil it, but you don’t always get what you want.

“Ugh, BJ,” Annie gripes, reaching for a menu even though she surely has it memorized. “He is so gross.”

I hazard a glance in the direction of her glare to see the bane of my existence waltzing toward the bar. 

“He better not fuck with Hughie,” Annie says, narrowing her eyes as he brushes shoulders with her groom. 

Hughie gracefully ignores the man’s obvious intention to needle him, gathers three chilled pint glasses and our pitcher, and rounds the crowd away from Captain Creep to return to the table.

“Who’s the kid?” I ask, finally noticing a quiet young man with BJ at the bar.

“That’s his son John. That kid’s been through the wringer with BJ and his mom. I don’t know why he still comes around; he clearly cannot stand the man any more than us.”

John’s smaller than his dad. He’s almost delicate-looking with a thick swath of blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He doesn’t have the swagger of the man next to him, and he seems to wish he were anywhere but here.

“MM, my man, it’s my boy’s 21st birthday! Get him a whiskey and a round for the house on me.”

“Hey.” Hughie settles the pint glasses on the table before filling each one, serving Annie and me first, then sitting down to pour his own. “John’s 21st. This oughtta be an interesting night.”

Annie tells me stories about babysitting John when he was a kid. He was sweet and gentle, quiet but curious, and his dad taunted him for it.

“He called his 6-year-old son a pussy.” She shakes her head. “Who does that?”

John slides into a barstool and idly sips his whiskey. A few of the older patrons wish him Happy Birthday, and MM makes a point to keep his water glass and popcorn bowl full while John’s dad struts around, flirting with every woman and slapping the backs of every man. 

It’s odd to see people react to him positively. Men, no matter their age, appear to admire him, and every woman he smiles at blushes and giggles. 

“They don’t know him like we do,” Hughie says. “Should we order? Butcher’s in the back tonight.”

I decide on the ”Terror,” a half-pound beef burger with taleggio, prosciutto, and peperoncini, medium-well. Annie recommends the cheesy house fries with special sauce as a shared dish, and within 20 minutes, we have our food and a second pitcher.

A soft buzz from light American beer warms and loosens me up. In this state, I’m less critical of my thoughts about the man who’s starred in my most desperate and debased dreams this past week. 

He looks good. He’s agile and powerful, which is a spectacular combination. People laugh at his jokes. They gravitate toward him. They think he’s charming and handsome, and from the background of Annie’s stories, I learn that he’s a war hero. 

It’s nice to feel something other than the overwhelming angst and shame I’ve felt all week. He affects people; it’s okay. I’m not an outlier. I just have to ride this out.

We finish our food, and I excuse myself to the restroom. There’s a vanilla candle burning on a table beside a well-loved armchair, a basket with single-size toiletries, pads and tampons, condoms, hand soap, and lotion. Definite homey vibe.

As I step through the door into the hallway, I’m jolted from my chill by a deep voice.

“Look at you all caszh and relaxed.” 

He’s propped between the men’s and women’s, so close I brush his arm when I whirl around to connect the voice with a face.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“Hmm.” He pushes off the wall and turns into me, backing me against the closed door.

“There’s that flush,” he murmurs. He does that thing with his finger again that made me smack his hand away earlier this week. This time, I let him.

“Is it because I scared you,” he pauses and catches my eye. “Or something else?”

I close my eyes and let my head fall back to the door, feeling the heat and buzz of a potentially malicious yet certainly pleasurable outcome. He slides a knee between my thighs and skims a heavy hand over my hip, nuzzling against my throat with a low chuckle.

My breath catches in my chest under the hand he has pressed there, holding me in place, keeping me where he wants me. Ire swirls and rises from my gut, and I grip his t-shirt in my fists to yank him into the restroom.

“There she is.” He stumbles backward with a grin as I throw the lock.

“Shut up.” I push him to sit in the chair before climbing astride him and diving in.

His lips are plush and demanding, his beard is soft, and his mouth is superheated and whiskey-wet. He’s hard and hot everywhere I touch as I tug at the button and zipper of his jeans. His hands roam over denim and my cotton t-shirt. He nips at my lips and toys with the button of my jeans.

“Fuck,” I growl, pushing out of his lap to get my pants down.

Before I know it, he’s spun me around, and he’s shimmying my jeans and underwear over my hips and down my thighs. He slumps into the chair and fits a condom over his length, then juts his hips forward to give me a place to rest. One long arm wraps my middle, and he slips two fingers over my wet slit. The wide pads of his fingertips swirl around my clit, and I brace my hands on the arms of the chair. Then he’s teasing me with his hard cock, rutting underneath, making me squirm. 

When he finally pushes inside, I shout and groan from the stretch and insane rhythm he’s keeping on my clit. I go off—ride him, pumping my thighs and elbows, using his arm around my middle for leverage. 

In less than a minute, I’m coming. One second later, he’s on his feet with me on my knees in the chair. He forces me to bend and hold onto the back, grips my bare hips, and pushes inside me again. He’s muttering, grunting, and, god, he’s hitting that spot with every thrust. 

“Come on, Brandy,” he gasps. “Lemme feel that tight little cunt come again. Make me come.”

I reach down between my legs and press over my mound, relishing his measured thrusts. I’m booze and fuck drunk, and my ears are ringing. His hands tighten on my hips, and we both come, swearing and howling.

Chapter Two coming soon...

What did you think? Reblog to share if you liked it! And let me know your thoughts. xox

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[shiyorin]

I'm just wondering how the High Lords of Terra will react to the Inquisitor's report on Yandere Astartes

Sure it won't end well but they know what to do.

+++ HIGHEST SEAL - HIGH LORDS OF TERRA

+++ SUBJECT: RE - INVESTIGATION INTO SUSPECTED ADEPTUS ASTARTES GENEFLAW

FROM THE THRONES OF THE HIGH LORDS OF TERRA:

Let the record reflect that Inquisitor [REDACTED]'s findings have been received and carefully analyzed by this most esteemed conclave. We commend your diligence in identifying this supposed "Geneflaw" affecting our vaunted transhuman warriors.

However, we must respectfully disagree with the Inquisitor's dire assessments and recommendations. To advocate the systematic extermination of countless Astartes Chapters, and thus weaken our Imperium at so tenuous a juncture, would be unforgivably shortsighted.

Instead, we propose an alternative stratagem to weaponize and harness these new "urges" infecting the Adeptus Astartes.

Based on the documented cases, it is now clear these divergent behaviors all stem from overpowering obsessions and perverse fixations towards certain unaugmented humans. Whether driven by abhorrent lust, deranged infatuation or utter self-destructive piety, the underlying essence seems a primal, animalistic drive to "possess" these individuals.

We must accept this metamorphosis as an opportunity, not a flaw. Just imagine the vast strategic potential of such unwavering, all-consuming devotion!

If provided "regulated doses" of these subjects, we could conceivably drive entire companies of Astartes into suicidal frenzies of zeal and ferocious protectiveness. Their battle-disciplines would be reinforced through the biological imperative to defend their "Obsessions" from harm.

A theoretical approach is outlined below:

1) Identify and indoctrinate vast stocks of psycho-bombinally suitable mortal humans to serve as "Fixation Targets"

2) Embed these "Fixation Units" within key Astartes deployments as "Distress Bait"

3) When Astartes succumb to these new gene-coded hungers, allow "bonding" under highly regulated circumstances

4) Closely monitor Astartes unit efficiency and combat fervency, providing "Fixation Targets" on a reward-basis

5) Deploy newly dedicated hunter-killer Astartes squads to priority war zones reinforce as needed with replenished "Fixation Units"

Properly implemented, this "Obsession Doctrine" would transform our Astartes into perfect weapon of fanatical, borderline psychotic intensity.

Casualties from "casualties of passion" would be relatively minor compared to the renewed slaughter they could inflict upon our foes. Even if entire Astartes assets are spent in the process, their sacrifices would be accepted as the highest honors.

This is the price of victory. The tormented spirits of these unaugmented mortals are a small cost to bear for the future dominance of Holy Imperium.

[ATTACHED: Proposal for funding "Fixation Unit" indoctrination camps on feral, non-compliant worlds. Methods for triggering and reinforcing selected psychosis strains…]

Let the Imperium's enemies fear the consequences of our newly unfettered wrath.

For the Emperor, no sacrifice is too unthinkable.

The High Lords of Terra shall catalogue your counsel under the highest seal.

Thought for the Day: "The path of virtue is narrow and sown with graven thorns. It is our eternal struggle to walk its bloody miles."

-High Lord of Terra

[ballet-symphonie]

I think the new Mariinsky of Coppelia is one of the most beautiful productions to come out recently! I'm really curious what you mean by stolen Pharaoh's Daughter! Please give me all the drama and tea. Also, what are they using of Ratmansky? I thought they went back to that grigorovich production of Sleeping Beauty? I'm so confused can you explain what is happening? Also, don't they still do Jewels? Isn't that Balanchine? are they even allowed? Sorry if i sound like I'm rambling but I'm so confused

Pharoah's Daughter

Here is an from NYT interviewing Ratmansky where he discusses the situation in depth but I will summarize it. NYT Article

The Phraroah's Daughter is a whole big drama. Alexei Ratmansky was creating a new reconstruction at Mariinsky before the war broke out.When Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022, Ratmansky canceled the premiere in May 2022. Fateev (then director of MT) hired Toni Candeloro to finish the reconstruction.

Fateev said the whole ballet was re-choreographed by Candeloro but this is blatantly not the case. Ratmansky and his wife had spent 2 years going through the old notations and documents to create this restoration, the idea that Candeloro could create a brand new 3.5-hour ballet (yes it is that long) in a fraction of the time is frankly a tragic comedy on the level of Shakespeare. And of course, Ratmansky's name is nowhere in the credits.

Russians have also claimed that no prior knowledge or access to any of Ratmanksy's work was available, but I find that hard to believe considering there are clips of Ratmanksy rehearsing the ballet at MT still chilling on Mariinksy's Youtube.

Here you can read Ratmansky’s statement on Instagram on the matter, accompanied by Antonio Casalinho performing the famous act 2 pas d’action variation from Pharoah’s Daughter.

Here is a video of Kimin Kim in the same variation from the actual MT production. The two videos are nearly identical, this is clearly theft of Ratmansky’s work.

Copywright/ Theft

Ratmansky's name has been removed from all credits of the Bolshoi and Mariinsky. Yet his work, such as Flames of Paris, and The Bright Stream, and others, have been performed since he withdrew his work from Russia without Ratmanksy's name attached - which means he's not receiving royalties for these.

Licenses of Productions

Generally, to perform works by other companies, you need a license from either the company, the choreographer, or the choreographic trust (think the Balanchine Trust or John Cranko Trust). You negotiate fees for a stager/repetiteur to come and oversee the teaching of the repertory, and check-ins to make sure that rehearsals are going well, the style is being adhered to, and that the intentions of the choreography is correct, as the original choreographer intended. The license also covers costume details (are you making your own according to the style? Buying or renting from someone else?), staging requirements (tech, music, sets, lighting etc), how many performances, and with what types of credits.

Many of the Bolshoi/Mariinsky licenses to perform ballets by foreign choreographers have expired/are expiring. Western arts organizations are mostly not renewing them given the circumstances. Therefore BT/MT no longer have the rights to program those ballets and cannot do so without a high probability of facing legal ramifications.

For example, The Bolshoi no longer can perform their semi-recent premiere, Orlando by Christopher Spuck, these rights expired in March 2024. Similarly, their contract for Jewels is up as well as Nureyev created by Possokhov-Serebrennikov. Mariinsky's Jewels is said to expire in 2025. You can read more details here.

[kanakkupillai2007]

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Compliance includes annual filings, conducting board meetings, statutory audits, and adhering to tax regulations.

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Yes, it is possible to convert a Private Limited Company into a Public Limited Company or other business structures, subject to compliance with legal requirements.

10. What is the role of a Director Identification Number (DIN) in company registration? 

Each director requires a unique number known as a DIN for incorporation, and it serves as their identity proof.

11. What are the advantages of registering a Private Limited Company in India? 

Benefits include limited liability protection, separate legal entities, access to funding, enhanced credibility, and perpetual succession.

12. Can a Private Limited Company issue shares to the public?

 No, a Private Limited Company cannot issue shares to the public. It can only provide claims to its members and stakeholders.

13. Is it mandatory to have a physical office space for a Private Limited Company? 

You must have a registered office address in India for company registration. You will use it for communication and legal purposes.

14. Can a Private Limited Company own property in its name? 

Yes, a Private Limited Company can purchase, own, and sell property in its name. It has a separate legal identity.

15. How is Closing a Private Limited Company in India?

The company can be closed by following the legal procedures, including passing resolutions, settling liabilities, and filing the necessary documents with the authorities. It's a complex process that requires legal guidance.

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[eugenedebs1920]

Trust me! There’s so very little I’d want to share similarities with when it comes to maga. I also have faith in the institutions that serve as the bedrock of our democracy. What I do not have faith in is Donald Trump’s integrity, honesty, or willingness to play by the rules. This is the 3rd article I’ve ran across that seemed credible. I checked the site, small independent journalism, no red flags when checking on its credibility. I’m not saying the election was rigged! While at the same time I’m not saying it wasn’t.

The thing is… We all saw that train wreck of a campaign. We all saw the apparent cognitive decline. We saw Trump ostracize, alienate, and discriminate against SO MANY different voting blocks. Saying, “They’re eating the cats, they’re eating the dogs, they’re eating the pets!”. He was called out on, and we saw and heard, him echo words of that German dictator from WWII, Mussolini and Stalin. We heard the promises to be a dictator on day one. His heavy lean towards authoritarianism. Him calling for the licenses of CNN, ABC, CBS, NBC, MSNBC, The Washington Post, The NY Times, pretty much everyone except OAN, Newsmax and Fox News. His calls for across the board tariffs were labeled as detrimental, and recession bound, by nearly every major economic think tank. He got DESTROYED during the debate. We saw hundreds of prominent Republican figures come out in opposition to Trump. Whole movements to ensure his defeat. Almost every single person in his previous administration say they wouldn’t support him, including, for good reasons, his own vice president.

The man’s an American traitor! We all saw the lead up to Jan 6th, then what occurred. I made it my life’s goal, as well as many others, on many platforms to remind everyone of it, and the fake electors scheme, and the theft and retention of classified documents, long after he knew he had last the election. The phone calls with Putin. The sending of vital pandemic relief supplies to Putin in the hype of the epidemic. All the f*ckin Russian ties. I know a lot of Americans ain’t that bright but. Really!? No one else put that together!?

Put on top of that his pressuring of Brad Raffensperger to “find 11,780 votes” and all the conspiring behind that. Not to mention the rape and definition charges. Not to mention his company being convicted of fraud. Not to mention HIM being convicted of fraud and a convicted felon because of it.

Add to that the strange bromance with Elon Musk the owner of Tesla. Trump HATES renewable anything!! He would go off about batteries and sharks habitually! Windmills!! Hates em! Talking all kinds of sh*t on electric cars, saying they would just run out of power, that there wasn’t any charging stations, then if there was you’d be there for hours, that the army wanted electric tanks, typical Trump fabrications. Just ALL the sudden him and the richest man in the world, who just happens to be in constant contact with Putin, who just happened to call for Ukraine to surrender, who just happened to buy a major social media platform, again or whatever. Musk who just happens to own Starlink, who just happens to offer free internet service in nearly every swing state.

On top of all that the numbers just don’t add up. You’re saying that 400,000 people, went in the voting booth, ONLY voted Trump and just walked out? Didn’t vote for the Republican senator, didn’t vote for the Republican representative, didn’t vote on any of the referendums or bills? Just “bullet” voted trump? Even dumbass Tommy Tuberville said in an interview, trying to accuse the left of fuckery, “It’s just weird how, the Democratic candidate, in a state Trump won, would be elected to congress”. Yea! Sure is “weird”, Tommy!

Then, the cocky statements from Trump and the right. I was watching this sh*t like, ‘these MFers are up to something’. Then, Him saying numerous times, he doesn’t need the votes. His “little secret” with Mike Johnson. The straight arrogance from Kevin Roberts, not only in publishing project 2025 but in his statements like, “there’s a second American revolution coming” leading to “and it will be bloodless, if the left allows it to be”. Then, there’s Joe Rogan, who lets it slip on his pod that Elon had an app on his phone where he knew the election results 4 hours before anyone else. Then why did he tell Tucker Carlson he would end up in jail?

You’re telling me, that guy, running that “prestigious” a campaign, with all the shinanigans after and during his first administration, a felon, hated by his own party, that fuckin guy won all 7 swing states, which hasn’t been done by anyone in 40 fuckin years, that guy, who literally said at a town hall, “no more questions, who wants to hear anymore damn questions” then proceeded to sway on stage for 40 mins to tunes, that guy won the popular vote too!? The popular vote that a Republican has only one once since Reagan!? That fuckin guy won all 7 swing states and the popular!? I don’t know if I can buy that.

I guess what I’m getting at is, forensic audits and hand recounts in the swing states would put all that unease to rest. It should be done, and soon! Trump has cheated at everything he’s done in the past, why would that change now?

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Pat Byrnes :: @thePatByrnes

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

July 5, 2024 (Friday)

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JUL 06, 2024

For all that certain members of the media continue their freakout over Biden’s electability after his appearance in last Thursday’s event on CNN, it is Trump and his Republicans who appear to be nervous about the upcoming election. 

Journalist Jennifer Schulze of Heartland Signal noted today that as of 8:00 this morning, the New York Times had published 192 pieces on Biden’s debate performance: 142 news articles and 50 opinion pieces. Trump was covered in 92 stories, about half of which were about the Supreme Court’s immunity ruling. Although Trump has frequently slurred his words or trailed off while speaking and repeatedly fell asleep at his own criminal trial, none of the pieces mentioned Trump’s mental fitness. 

But for all of what independent journalists are calling a “feeding frenzy,” egged on by right-wing media figures, it seems as if the true implications of Project 2025 are starting to gain traction and the Trump campaign recognizes that the policies that document advocates are hugely unpopular. 

On July 2, Heritage Foundation president Kevin Roberts assured Trump ally Steve Bannon’s followers that they are winning in what he called “the second American Revolution, which will remain bloodless if the left allows it to be.” In March, Roberts told former Trump administration official and now right-wing media figure Sebastian Gorka about Project 2025: “There are parts of the plan that we will not share with the Left: the executive orders, the rules and regulations. Just like a good football team we don’t want to tip off our playbook to the Left.” 

This morning, although Roberts has described Project 2025 as “institutionalizing Trumpism,” Trump’s social media feed tried to distance the former president from Project 2025. “I know nothing about Project 2025. I have no idea who is behind it,” the post read. Despite this disavowal of any knowledge of the project, it continued: “I disagree with some of the things they’re saying and some of the things they’re saying are absolutely ridiculous and abysmal. Anything they do, I wish them luck, but I have nothing to do with them.” 

In what appeared to be a coordinated statement, the directors of Project 2025 wrote on social media less than two hours later that they “do not speak for any candidate.”  

Aside from the fact that “[a]nything they do, I wish them luck,” sounds much like the signaling Trump did to the Proud Boys when he told them to “stand back and stand by,” Trump’s assertion and Project 2025’s response can’t possibly erase the many and deep ties of the Trump camp to Project 2025. Juliet Jeske of Decoding Fox News noted that Trump’s name shows up on more than 190 pages of the Project 2025 playbook. 

Rebekah Mercer, who sits on the board of the Heritage Foundation, was one of Trump’s top donors in 2016; her family founded and operated Cambridge Analytica, the company that misused the data of millions of Facebook users to push pro-Trump and anti-Clinton material in 2016. Trump’s national press secretary, Karoline Leavitt, has appeared in a Project 2025 video. Trump’s own super PAC has been running ads promoting Project 2025, calling it “Trump’s Project 2025,” and many of its policies—killing the Department of Education, erasing the separation of church and state, ending renewable energy programs and ramping up use of fossil fuels, deporting immigrants—are also Trump’s.

Project 2025’s director, Paul Dans, as well as both of its associate directors, Spencer Chretien and Troup Hemenway, were in charge of personnel in Trump’s White House, and the theme of Project 2025 is that “people are policy,” by which they mean that hand-picked loyalists must replace civil servants. Trump’s former body man John McEntee, who reentered the White House as a senior advisor after having to leave because he failed a background check, was in charge of hiring in the last months of the Trump White House; he helped to draft Project 2025. Key Trump ally Russell Vought wrote the section of Project 2025 that called for an authoritarian leader; he is also on the platform committee of the Republican National Convention. 

If indeed Trump knows nothing about Project 2025 and has no idea who is behind it, his cognitive ability is rotten. As former chair of the Republican National Committee Michael Steele wrote, “Since [Project 2025] is designed to institutionalize Trumpism and you know nothing about it, then why do you echo some of its policy priorities during your rallies? Coincidence? And how exactly don’t you know that Project 2025 Director Paul Dans served as your chief of staff at the Office of Personnel Management, and Associate Director Spencer Chretien served as your special assistant and associate director of presidential personnel? And folks say we should be worried about Biden.”

Trump’s attempt to distance himself from Project 2025 indicates just how toxic that plan is with voters. As political scientist Ian Bremmer dryly noted, it seems that “the second [A]merican revolution apparently [is] not polling as well as the first in internal focus groups.” Former Republican strategist Rick Wilson was even more direct, saying that Trump was trying to distance himself from Project 2025 because “most of it polls about like Ebola,” the deadly virus that causes severe bleeding and organ failure, and has a mortality rate of 80 to 90%.

The extremism of the MAGA Republicans was on display in another way today as well after The New Republic published a June 30 video of North Carolina lieutenant governor Mark Robinson, currently the Republican nominee for governor of North Carolina, saying to a church audience about their opponents—whom he identified in a scattershot speech as anything from communists to “wicked people” to those standing against “conservatives”—"Kill them! Some liberal somewhere is gonna say that sounds awful. Too bad!... Some folks need killing! It's time for somebody to say it.” 

Today the Vatican turned against one of those extremists when it excommunicated pro-Trump archbishop Carlo Maria Viganò, who was the Vatican’s diplomat to the U.S. from 2011 to 2016, for “schism” after he refused to recognize the authority of Pope Francis. Viganò has repeatedly attacked Francis’s Catholic Church for being “inclusive, immigrationist, eco-sustainable, and gay-friendly.”

Also today, Trump’s lawyers asked Judge Aileen Cannon, who is overseeing Trump’s criminal trial for retaining hundreds of classified documents, to dismiss charges that can no longer be prosecuted in light of the Supreme Court’s decision that a president cannot be charged for crimes committed while engaging in “official acts.” They also called the case “politically motivated” and asked Cannon to stop the case entirely in light of Justice Clarence Thomas’s suggestion that Special Counsel Jack Smith was not properly appointed.

The other big news today was that the U.S. added 206,000 jobs in June, bringing the total number of jobs created under this administration to 15.7 million. Last month’s numbers were, once again, higher than economists expected and, according to economic analyst Steven Rattner, above job growth levels before the pandemic. He added that these jobs are not simply a bounceback from the depths of the pandemic: 6.2 million more Americans are employed now than before Covid hit. 

Poking fun at the calls for Biden to step down, conservative lawyer George Conway posted: “Biden needs to RESIGN NOW before any more of these terrible job things are created.”

In a speech today in Madison, Wisconsin, Biden vowed to stay in the race, and the speech appeared strong enough that right-wing extremists, including Senator Mike Lee (R-UT) and activist Laura Loomer, posted on social media—falsely—that he was having a medical emergency aboard Air Force One. Tonight, George Stephanopoulos of ABC interviewed Biden without a teleprompter or notes, focusing only on Biden’s age without any questions about policy. ABC News posted the interview transcript with the president’s conversation portrayed the “g”s dropped off the words and with other colloquial pronunciations spelled out, as if it were dialect. Trump, whose words the press tends to turn into clean prose, has refused to do an interview under the same conditions.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[theboywithburninghands]

Here goes nothing. Arranged Marriage Funnybunny. Mostly worldbuilding and setup in this one. It was... something to make, that's for sure. Uh don't expect like... Jane Austen, but I went for a more... uh I guess... feel that was more old school? Just imagine a British narrator. Anyway here take it- T/W: Mentions of miscarriages, sexism, fantasy casual racism Primum Peccatum Chapter 1: You Don't Own Me

Primum Peccatum was an island a half-mile off the southeastern coast of Blackshell Bay, New Hirnantia. Inaccessible by any method other than ferry or private boat, Primum Peccatum was known throughout the county as a haven for the wealthy. Though Blackshell Bay was hardly a shantytown, those living in the coastal city often found themselves gazing wistfully or covetously at the island whenever they were on the southeastern beach in summertime or in the fish market near the harbor. Close enough to see, but far enough to never quite touch. Unless they were lucky enough to strike oil, inherit a good amount of money from a wealthy relative, or marry into one of the families already living on the island.

The Shutnyk family had lived on Primum Peccatum for two generations now. Originally a family of woodsmen, Nikolai Shutnyk broke the previously thought impermeable class barrier through, as said before, dumb luck. Nikolai, while living at a lumber mill in Telychia, would often go for long walks in the thick Telychian woods to try and curb his insomnia. While out there, he stumbled upon an as of then undiscovered natural gas reserve, and, under the nose of the logging company, managed to keep it a secret. Nikolai was talented with numbers and knew how to read and write despite his lower-class background, and drafted up a series of documents that he sent to several different gas companies along with some samples. In the documents, he offered to reveal the location of this reserve if he was given 100,000 crowns up front, and 5% of the profits from the reserves.

Although he was initially ignored, one struggling company by the name of East-West Renewable Energy sent an inspector to Nikolai, and they met in secret in the nearby town of Perrault’s End. Nikolai took the inspector out to the woods, and, when it was found to be very much real, the company gave Nikolai his up front payment, and began drilling. Nikolai quit his job at the end of his shift the next day, and moved to Perrault’s End. East-West’s earnings exploded overnight, and even though he had only asked for 5% of the earnings, it was enough to keep him sustained without the need of a job for a good two decades.

Newly wealthy and with a steady income, Nikolai Shutnyk caught the attention of several  prominent families in Perrault’s End. He was soon married to the daughter of one Cartofolio Marconi, a magistrate for several industrialists in the much larger neighboring city of Angel’s Peak. Nikolai’s skill with numbers made him a valuable asset to his father-in-law’s corporate clients, and he was given a share of the company’s earnings for his hard work. 

Nikolai and his wife, Clara Shutnyk, took the opportunity to purchase some land on Primum Piccatum, and had their manor built there. Nikolai continued his work for his father-in-law, and had a son with Clara, who they named Vladimir. Nikolai continued working until his death from a ruptured spleen when he was 61. Vladimir continued in his father’s stead, looking after his mother at his island manor and eventually finding a wife, the daughter of a surgeon named Amadeo. Her name was Mirella, and together they had a child of their own, a daughter, named Pomni. Her name was unique, taken from the Telychian word for “forget,” after Mirella’s favorite flower, the forget-me-not.

Pomni was the only child of Vladimir and Mirella, not for lack of trying. Mirella had miscarried three times before managing to have an underweight baby girl 4 weeks early. Luckily, her parents had access to high quality care thanks to their standing, and their newly born daughter lived. Pomni grew only somewhat larger in the following 25 years, never reaching any taller than 5 feet. 

Had she lived in more modern times, there would be better and more scientific terms to describe the way her mind worked, but her parents and teachers only referred to her as “a bit odd” or “not quite there.” She was intelligent, that couldn’t be denied: she was writing full sentences at six years of age and read ravenously, but her social skills left much to be desired. She had few school friends, rarely speaking at all unless spoken to, and didn’t smile unless she was actually happy.. However, her taciturn nature was never to be mistaken for weakness, and she had an intensely stubborn streak. 

When she was nine years old, a young lady in her class named Fredericka and her sycophants, seeing Pomni’s diminutive stature and hearing her unusual name, surrounded her desk one Monday before their lessons. Pomni looked up from her collection of Telychian short stories when the girls called her all manner of things, most of them pejoratives they’d overheard from their nationalist relatives. 

Pomni looked back down at her book, her face placid. Fredericka, confused and angry that her usual routine appeared ineffective on the quiet young lady, turned back to her friends. 

“She’s not just ugly, she’s deaf!” she declared.

Her laugh became a shriek as Pomni lunged for Fredericka’s arm, burying her sharp little teeth into the taller girl’s hand. Blood oozed from the punctured skin between her thumb and index finger and onto the polished hardwood floor. 

Despite the headmistress’s best efforts, Pomni couldn’t be made to apologize. Vladimir had to be summoned to her school, but even her father couldn’t persuade Pomni to apologize to her classmate. She said this to Vladimir. 

“She isn’t sorry, Papa. So neither am I.” 

Pomni was forbidden from the manor’s library for a month for her churlish behavior, but privately, Vladimir was impressed. His own father would never have obtained his fortune without steely resolve. Had he followed the herd, the lumber company would have sold that natural gas reserve to line the pockets of the already wealthy board of directors, and Nikolai wouldn’t have seen a single crown. 

Pomni’s classmates wisely decided to leave her alone after this incident, keeping their insults well out of earshot. Pomni graduated near the top of her class with excellent marks, a sure sign she would make a fine schoolteacher or court stenographer. Indeed, she inherited her father’s skill with numbers and attention to detail, and even began assisting her father with the heaps of paperwork from some of his weightier cases. 

Mirella loved her daughter as any mother should, and just like most mothers, she worried about her quite often. Oddness aside, Pomni had almost no interest in finding a husband. A little independence was important for any young lady, it was the sign of a healthy brain, which Pomni certainly possessed. But whenever Mirella asked her daughter if she saw any young gentlemen that caught her eye when she was across the reach running errands for the family, or in the library or the city park, her answers were unsatisfactory. 

“Oh yes, I did see a man with two different colored eyes. One blue, one brown. I believe the term is ‘heterochromia,’ did you know that, mother?”

“I saw a man who had lost an arm. I suppose he must have been a soldier, or perhaps a mill worker. It’s just terrible that someone’s livelihood can cost someone a limb, don’t you, mother?”

Mirella worried. Pomni was a pretty little thing. She had her father’s snowy fair skin and her own raven black hair, cut into a short little bob. When she smiled, which wasn’t often, it was illuminating. But she was 25, and that beauty wouldn’t last. In New Hirnantia, it was agreed that if a woman wasn’t married by age 30, she was destined for spinsterhood. Just five years… If Pomni wanted to carry on her family’s legacy, she needed to find a husband. She was their sole heir. Mirella couldn’t put herself through another miscarriage… and with her own advancing age, a failed pregnancy was all the more likely. 

There were many young men around Blackshell Bay that would have suited Pomni perfectly well had she just given them the time of day. University professors, magistrates, authors and poets… men who held the same appreciation for learning and the arts that Mirella’s daughter did. And they were steadily decreasing in number as other women Pomni’s age, some younger, took them to be their husbands. 

She confided in her husband one Spring evening before bed, collapsing into tears as her worries burst out like water from a crumbling dam. Vladimir held his wife and listened to her woes, stroking her hair and letting the torrent run its course. By the time Mirella’s sobs had waned into hiccups, Vladimir smiled at her. 

“Darling, I’m so terribly sorry you’ve kept all of this inside. The pain must have been monumental. And yes, I too have worried that our daughter may carry the family name to her grave. But, you needn’t worry any longer, lisichka. I believe a solution is within reach. I simply have to write a few letters. Our daughter will be happily wed by her 26th birthday.”

—

Pomni stepped off the ferry onto the dock, sturdy oak wood imported from the monolithic forests of Ediacara out west. 

“Be careful on your way home, Ms. Shutnyk.” the ferryman said. 

“You say this whenever I exit the boat, sir. I assure you, no sheer cliffs or bottomless canyons have suddenly appeared on my commute home.” Pomni replied. 

The sun set from within the treeline, coloring the horizon a bright tangerine. Pomni walked up the path to the Shutnyk estate, a weighty book under her arm. It was a collection of fairy tales, complete with color plates. Pomni typically preferred her fiction with a touch more verisimilitude, but she had already gone through her father’s library and most of the library in town, so she needed to wait for her favorite authors to actually produce new material. This would satiate her for a time. 

Pomni wore a plain white dress and matching white shoes. She also wore her favorite straw sunhat with the black hatband, although it had been rather overcast today. Not that she minded. She did burn rather easily due to her Telychian blood. 

She continued up the hill past the Rooker estate. She would have stopped to say hello to Mr. Kinger on any other day, but it was getting late, and summer was on the horizon. Mosquitos and other biting insects would surely be emboldened by the evening dark and emerge from the trees soon. 

She saw the manor up the dirt path, second on the right, just after the Rooker house. In the dim light, she could see her mother’s immaculately maintained flower gardens in front of the delicate pink walls of the manor. It was just becoming summer, so the gardens were lush with hot pink roses and silky white gardenias. Pomni had thought about taking up gardening as a hobby, but she found the entire affair tedious. At least with books, you wouldn’t have to wait six months to read them. 

She took her key from her pocketbook and unlocked the manor door, skirting inside and closing it behind her to keep the bugs away. 

“Pomni, is that you?” her father called from the dining room. 

“Yes it is, good evening, Father.” she called back, locking the door behind her and hanging her handbag and sunhat on the foyer hooks. 

“Come and join us, supper is ready,” said Vladimir.

“Just a moment, I haven’t gotten out of my shoes…” Pomni sat on the floor and slid off her shoes, placing them neatly on the shoe rack and peeling off her socks, dropping them down the laundry chute. She set her book down at the foot of the stairs and she briskly walked into the dining room. 

“Good evening, darling, so good to see you!” Mirella said from her spot at the table. Pomni returned her salutation, looking at the plate set out for her. Honey-glazed garlic salmon, her favorite. Usually she only had this for her birthday or to celebrate the start of fishing season.

“Oh, goodness. Thank you, what’s the occasion?”

“No occasion, dear, we just had Zooble cook your favorite tonight. Come, sit, enjoy it!” Vladimir said, motioning her to come and sit at the dining room table.

Zooble stood in the corner of the room in their usual tuxedo, nodding wordlessly at Pomni. Zooble was a shape-person, their head a magenta sideways triangle with no visible mouth and mismatched limbs. Shapefolk originated from a harsh desert kingdom known as Dovicia, found across the southern sea. While they had a much different diet and anatomy from humans, no one shape-person was built the same way, humans and shapefolk had been close allies for centuries. Humans offered them much needed resources that couldn’t be found in the beastly Dovician desert, and the shapefolk in turn offered manpower, often moving into more temperate areas to escape the extreme temperatures. Zooble had been the caretaker of the manor for 3 years, ever since the previous caretaker, Lidio, retired to Blackshell Bay at the age of 70. So far, Pomni liked them a lot, even if she never enjoyed change that much. Zooble didn’t allow her mother and father to walk all over them like Lidio did. Sometimes her parents needed someone to tell them “no” that wasn’t her.

Pomni cut into her salmon filet and sampled it, giving a contented hum. “It’s delicious, Zooble. My compliments.” 

Zooble nodded. “Only doing what I’m paid for, Miss.” Their tone struck Pomni as oddly somber, but she ignored it.

“So how are you feeling, darling? Did you have a pleasant day?” Marella asked.

Pomni took a moment to chew and swallow, looking down at her food. “Yes, mother. I went for my usual constitutional in the park, and-”

“Eyes up, Pomni,” her father said. “Talk to your mother, not your dinner.””

Pomni bit her lip. She was a grown woman, and her parents still reprimanding her for her struggles with eye contact always touched a nerve. Maybe in grade school, but… 

She looked up at her mother. Even looking into Marella’s brown eyes made her feel itchy, prickles of heat running up her arms and down to her toes.

“-and I got a book from the library. I finished the last one.” 

As soon as she finished speaking, she put her eyes back onto her food, scratching her left foot with her right. 

“Molto bene, darling. Well, your father has some exciting news.” 

Marella looked over at her husband, who idly swirled the red wine in his glass. Vladimir glanced at his wife before clearing his throat and setting the glass down.

“Er- yes. A former client of mine has fallen into dire straits. You remember the Krolik family?”

Pomni thought for a moment as she chewed her food. She swallowed, had a sip of water and then spoke. 

“Yes. Yes, they had the embezzlement case. Their business partner, their name was… Dombrowski Worldwide, was charging a non-existent handling fee for their grain shipments and then pocketing it. They took around 60,000 crowns, and the Krolik-”

“Yes dear, exactly right! Your memory is astounding as always.” Vladimir said, the pride palpable in his voice. 

“What about them, father?” Pomni asked, working on cutting herself another piece of fish. 

“Well, as you know, we won the case. But unfortunately, the judicial expenses left the Krolik family in something of a financial rut. Even with all the Krolik siblings working on the family business, they haven’t quite been able to scrape themselves out of debt.”

“I see. How is that good news?” Pomni replied.

Zooble let out a louder than normal cough. 

“Well…” Vladimir took in a lengthy breath. “Their fourth son, er, Jax, is 22 and unmarried.” 

“Oh, I see. So he’s marrying into a wealthy family. That is good news!” Pomni replied. 

“Y-Yes, he does intend on marrying into a wealthy family. A-As a matter of fact-“

“Master Shutnyk,” Zooble suddenly spoke up. “Please. The longer you prolong the issue-”

“I don’t believe I requested your input, Zooble.” Vladimir said. The authority in his voice bordered on draconian. He never spoke to their caretaker like that, even during his foulest moods. 

“Apologies, sir.” Zooble said, bowing shortly. 

Pomni looked from Zooble to Vladimir. Her food sat momentarily forgotten in her cheek, before she chewed hastily and swallowed.

“Papa, is something the matter?” Pomni asked. She rarely referred to Vladimir as anything but “father” since she was twelve years old, only using “papa” when she was deeply anxious or in the midst of tears, be they of joy or sadness. 

“No, piccola, nothing is wrong at all.” Marella interjected. “This is all good news. Your father and I think you should marry that Krolik boy!”

Pomni put down her fork. She picked up her glass of water and quaffed the entire thing. 

“We have everything in order, you won’t have to worry about a thing! Your father spoke with the patriarch of the Krolik family- and what a fine man he is, larger than life, truly!- he’d be more than happy to have you wed his son. Oh, and you should meet his son! I’ve never met a more charismatic beastman! And-”

“Mirella!” Vladimir barked.

“I’m sorry but it’s true! He’s a gentleman, a real ambassador for his kind! And he’s only 22! You’ll love him, Pomni!”

Pomni prodded her filet with her fork. “I’ll… love him.” she echoed. Her eyes stared ahead, at nothing in particular. 

“I’m sure of it! He’s smart as a whip, just like you! He and all of his siblings. And goodness, he’s tall and handsome…”

Pomni picked up her plate and whipped it at the wall behind her. It soared through the air like a clay pigeon before shattering helplessly against the wall, Mirella yelping and Vladimir rising to his feet instinctively. Her half-eaten salmon adhered to the wall for a moment before peeling off and plopping onto the imported carpet, brown glaze stuck to both the wall and the carpet. 

Pomni turned to her parents, her blue eyes crystals of icelike fury. 

“What have I done wrong..?” she whispered. “What sin could I have committed that would motivate you to sell me off? Am I no better than a mare or a sow? Answer me! What was my transgression?!”

“Pomni, you’ve done nothing wrong…” Mirella began delicately. 

“Then I’ve always been nothing more than a commodity?!” Pomni cried. She looked to her father for aid. “Papa, what about your firm? Wasn’t I supposed to take over for you..? You always said I was so talented…”

“And you are, dear! You’re brilliant! But… clients would turn their nose up at a firm run by a woman. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth of our society. It’s why I want you to marry this man so you can-”

Pomni’s eyes lost the spark of fury in them, darkening with grief and betrayal. “…Papa.”

“So you can run the firm in my stead. You just need a man to serve as a figurehead. And believe me, Jax Krolik is charismatic enough to serve as a figurehead, I met with him only yesterday, and-”

“I haven’t! I don’t even know what this man- no, beastman looks like! How could you possibly think I’d be okay with you making such a rash decision behind my back? Are you really that heartless?!”

Pomni turned away from her parents once again. Zooble shook their head. 

“Fiends… heartless, deceitful fiends…” Pomni whispered. 

“Pomni, this was for your benefit.” Marella said stoically. “You’re 25. Time is running out for you. All the men who might have caught your attention are moving on to other women. Or even other men! We acted in your stead to make sure you had a fair shot at finding love, starting a family, being happy-”

“I am happy! Rather, I was happy until you thrust a knife into my back! Who are you to say what brings me joy and what doesn’t?!”

“I’m your mother, Pomni! And I was in your situation once! I was lucky enough that your father came along when he did-!”

“That’s enough from both of you!” Vladimir boomed. “Mirella, Pomni, sit back down.”

Mirella took her seat, but Pomni remained standing. 

“Pomni. Sit down.” 

“I won’t,” she said.

“We’ve already arranged a meeting with the Krolik family tomorrow afternoon.” Vladimir continued. “I assure you that once you meet Jax, your concerns will be assuaged. This wasn’t a decision made impetuously. Now, sit down, please.” 

Pomni’s lips quavered. She gradually slid back onto her chair.

“Good girl. Zooble, please clean that up before it stains the carpet. And the wall.” Vladimir motioned to the detritus on the carpet.

“Right away, Master Shutnyk.” Zooble said with another short bow. They hurriedly stepped out of the room, glancing at Pomni before going to get the dustpan. 

“We know how you feel, Pomni. It’s daunting to get married, but it’s part of a young woman’s life.” Mirella said. “And think about how much more you’ll have to do with a husband! An entire house all to yourself, new family to get to know… it’s an adventure! Besides, it trounces just going to town and back every day, wouldn’t you say?”

“No, mother. I don’t.” Pomni spat out the word “mother” like a poison. “I quite enjoy my time in town, thank you.”

“Well, now you can live in town! We’ve been to see their manor, and-”

“Well if you enjoy it so much, why don’t you live there in my stead? Clearly you’re infatuated with the man.” Pomni snapped.

“Pomni Shutnyk! You do NOT speak to your mother like that!” barked Vladimir. 

“I did not suffer the loss of three children to be disrespected by my only daughter!” Mirella exclaimed.

“If you’re going to treat me like this, then I wish I had died right along with them-”

Pomni put a hand to her mouth, immediately wishing she could reel the words back into her throat. Her mother’s face blanched, and Pomni felt tears well up in her eyes. 

“Pomni..!” her father gasped.

“I-I’m sorry…” Pomni managed to say. “I’m sorry, mother…” 

“You’ve said quite enough.” Vladimir asserted. “To your room, now. And you aren’t to come down until we tell you.”

Pomni, her pretty pale face damp with tears, rose from her chair and went into the foyer. Sniffling, she ascended the first step. She stopped, and turned, and hurriedly put her shoes on, sans her socks. She grabbed her pocketbook from the foyer hook. 

“Pomni?” her father’s voice came from the dining room. “Pomni, I instructed you to go to your room.”

She found her house key despite her blurred vision and unlocked the front door, easing it open. The sky was a dim orange and the trees mere black silhouettes, evening insects chirring. 

“Pomni!” her father called. There was the sound of a scraping chair. 

Pomni slipped through the door and shut it behind her, locking it behind her and pattering down the steps onto the dirt trail. She ran through the garden of the Shutnyk manor, wiping her eyes and nose and not looking back, even as she heard both of her parents shouting for her return. As far as she was concerned, it was no longer her home. 

Soon, she reached the main road, and turned left, hurrying further up the island and towards the church. 

[jessthetea]

This may not mean anything but it may mean a lot of things. I'm not quite sure yet but I thought I'd say something about it anyway.

As it's been mentioned before, the documents for Jess's business in the UK (Jess Moloney Management) are public knowledge. Anyone can see the filings and access them.

About a week ago, I had gone to look at them as a source for someone who was asking questions and I noticed that every year (just about) in the beginning of October she always filed a "confirmation of business" but this year she hadn't filed one.

I then thought, okay, it's possible that she has already filed it and they haven't processed it yet or she's late for whatever reason, no big deal. I checked back again today and there's a big red notice on her page that says the confirmation filing is past due.

Now, there has been some speculation that the only reason she was able to afford to keep this "business" running (despite not having any real clients or doing anything with it) was because Jamie was paying the bill for it. It was also noted that at some point she went 200K in to debt (which you can see within the paperwork of her filing history if you look at the website) once again, this is all public information that anyone can access.

So, what's going on here?

Was Jess only "in business" because Jamie was paying for her to renew the license every year? Did Jess get herself in so much debt she's unable to renew her license and file the paperwork? Is she just super late for the first time in her seven years of owning this business? It's kind of interesting that amidst these breakup rumours and the speculation that Jamie was more than likely footing the bill for this "company" suddenly it goes defunct and she just doesn't file the paperwork.

Thoughts? Comments? Ideas? Send them in.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from the Associated Press (AP):

In her first days as Mexico’s new president, Claudia Sheinbaum made a point of distancing herself from the fossil fuel reliance promoted by her predecessor and mentor, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, and vowed to resume an energy transition that he halted.

“We are going to boost renewable energies. The goal is that by 2030, they will have a 45% share (of total electricity production),” she said Tuesday in her first public speech in the capital’s Zocalo square, shortly after being sworn in as the country’s first woman president.

Specifics are still scant, but her speech marks a sharp departure from the energy policy of former President López Obrador, a fierce defender of fossil fuels who, among other things, spent more than $20 billion to build a new oil refinery and stopped the auctions that had allowed developers to build solar and wind farms in the country.

The president said in the coming days she will unveil an “ambitious energy transition program” aimed at “the reduction of greenhouse gases that cause climate change.”

Yet Sheinbaum has also promised to strengthen the nation’s Federal Electricity Commission, which owns older plants that mainly burn fossil fuels, and state-owned oil company Pemex.

Even without specifics, experts and environmentalists said the change in rhetoric was notable.

“The terms ‘sustainability’ or ‘renewable energy’ really never appeared,” in López Obrador’s policies, said Rosanety Barrios, who worked for more than a decade at the Mexican Energy Regulatory Commission. “He didn’t use the term in any speech, in any document. And she has been using it all the time.”