#Dark Spirits Market Size

[foodalliedinfoglobal]

Dark Spirits Market Booming Worldwide with Latest Trend and Future Scope by 2027

Craft spirits have witnessed monumental growth in the last few years, owing to changing consumer preferences toward craft spirits especially whiskey and brandy. According to American Craft Spirits Association, craft spirits are products produced by a distillery, which values the importance of transparency in distilling and remains forthcoming regarding the spirit’s ingredients, distilling location, aging, and bottling process.

Dark Spirits Market Size was valued at $87.2 billion in 2019, and is projected reach $129.1 billion by 2027, registering a CAGR of 6.4% from 2021 to 2027.

Global Key Players:

Anheuser-Busch InBev, Asahi Group Holdings, Kirin Holdings, Diageo, Suntory Holdings, Pernod Ricard, Bacardi Limited, LT Group, Inc (Tanduay), The Brown–Forman Corporation, and Rémy Cointreau.

A distilled spirit is produced by a distillery producing fewer than 750,000 gallons annually. The craft spirits volume sales have witnessed upswing of 26% in 2019, crossing 80 million liters of craft spirits sold in the U.S. alone. The number of craft distillers has also surpassed 2,000 mark in the financial year 2019. The craft movement has brought rising levels of distilling expertise, knowledge, and innovation. Similar trends have been witnessed across Europe and Asia-Pacific regions in prominent countries such as India, the UK, and France. Increasing demand for craft spirits is expected to provide impetus to the global dark spirits market growth.

Explore More Insights @ https://www.alliedmarketresearch.com/dark-spirits-market-A10287

With increased awareness and consciousness, consumers are scrutinizing food as well as beverages labels these days, with alcohol being no exception. Clean label, organic, natural, no additives, and GMO-free alcohol, including dark spirits have been successfully launched in the market. For instance, Waterford Distillery released Ireland’s first organic whiskey GAIA 1.1 priced at $110. Similarly, Neisson launched organic certified rum. With more players entering the organic market, the market for organic dark spirits is anticipated to gain high traction with new flavors and offerings to lure consumers.

The global dark spirits industry has been slightly impacted amidst the outbreak of the coronavirus. The COVID-19 pandemic resulted in lockdown and widespread restrictions across the world. The on trade sales of dark spirits have nosedived across the world, owing to the closure of HORECA industry across the world. Furthermore, recent development in resurgence of the second wave of coronavirus in Europe and North America is one of the major challenges the industry is expected to face in the coming days.

The global dark spirits market is segmented on the basis of type, distribution channel, and region. Based on type, the global market is divided into whiskey, rum, and brandy. By distribution channel, the market is bifurcated into on trade and off trade. Region-wise, the global market is studied across North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific and LAMEA. North America consists of market evaluation for the U.S., Canada, and Mexico. Europe is studied across the UK, Germany, France, Spain, Russia, and the rest of Europe. India, China, Japan, ASEAN, Australia, and the rest of Asia-Pacific are the countries analyzed under the Asia-Pacific region. LAMEA includes Brazil, Argentina, the UAE, South Africa, and the rest of LAMEA.

Key Findings Of The Study

By region, Asia-Pacific dominates in terms of the global dark spirits market share, and is expected to retain its dominance during the forecast period.

By type, the whiskey segment led in terms of the market share in 2019, and is expected to gain market share in the coming years.

By distribution channel, the on trade segment is expected to gain market share in the coming years, and is estimated to grow at a CAGR of 7.4% during the dark spirits market forecast period.

By region, North America is anticipated to grow with a moderate CAGR of 4.2% during the forecast period.

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[missredherring]

Black Powder

Pero Tovar x Fat F!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2.7k. One-shot.

Contents: Phoenix AU. Mentions of being held prisoner. Nudity. Canon-typical violence. A kiss.

Summary: As the rumors solidified a sense of duty grew within him. He would seek out this black powder and if it truly was phoenix ash he'd put a stop to its twisted use for only death and destruction.

A/N: This AU is inspired by the Monster (S)mash challenge hosted by @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett-writes. I made a moodboard to get the idea out of my mind and I was so motivated by the reception that I wrote a one-shot for it.

Not beta read.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

Pero wakes.

White spots obscure his vision and when they take much longer to clear than they had the previous day it tells him what he already knows: he's put it off for too long.

His body doesn't respond at first when he wills it to move, and it takes several tries to sit at the edge of his sleeping pallet.

"Ayú-," he has to cough to clear his throat and the effort feels like expelling rocks. "Ayúdame."

The noise he makes isn't loud or strong, but he knows it doesn't need to be. Soon there are footsteps outside of his room and the door opens. The round face of his aunt looks in at him, her dark eyes warm even as she frowns in disapproval.

"Ay, Perito." She tsks and bustles in. Her rough hands are on him as soon as he's within reach and he shivers at how cold they feel on his feverish skin. She checks his eyes and his neck and his shoulders, making her way down to the center of his chest where his heart beats sluggishly.

Her mouth twists even further and he knows what she must see: eyes on the verge of unseeing, skin as warm as a dying ember, and a heart that is struggling to keep his stubborn spirit going even when his body is telling him that he can't.

She grips him under his arms and hefts him up onto his feet. He does his best to help as much as he is able to and slings his arm over her shoulder.

"Enough of this foolishness, Pero," his aunt scolds him as they leave his room and make their way through the house. "You will burn today and I will hear no arguments."

Members of his family peak out of doorways and around corners as they make their slow progression, but the annoyed tone of his aunt's voice keeps them at bay. It's only when he stumbles and almost takes them both down that a cousin sighs and steps out into view. He takes up Pero's other arm and together he and his aunt bring him from the house and across the village to the kiln.

The domed structure has no windows and a singular door that only shows the darkness within. Its size and scorched appearance might look foreboding to outsiders, but to Pero it is comforting. Here is the place where generations of his community had taken shelter when they were vulnerable. This kiln had allowed them to protect themselves and their homes from the more volatile aspect of their nature.

Villagers look at him with concern. Pero seeks out a few faces and when he finds them he makes eye contact. They give him firm nods in return, passion and duty burning in their eyes- the same feelings that'd been fueling him in the past weeks as they made plans. Pushing his burning had been worth it; when he leaves the kiln they will be ready to leave the village and set out in search of rumors.

His feet drag as he's helped through the kiln doorway. It won't fit three people abreast so his aunt gives him into the care of his cousin and leaves him with a stern look and a kiss to his sweaty forehead. His cousin strips Pero with efficient but gentle motions and sets his naked ass on a brick bench at the back of the kiln.

When his eyes finally adjust to the dim lighting he sees others in the kiln with them. A potter sets up their latest batch of pottery that will sell for a good price at the market as they always do. An elder checks on the vessels that will catch the majority of the ash produced in their burning, the ash that will go on to be used in various ways from reinforcing the nursery to being used in medicine and holy rites.

Belatedly he notices two other figures that aren't rushing to get their tasks done before the burning starts. A solo burn is unusual here and he's never gone through the transformation by himself. Pero has always been surrounded and cared for by his community and it pains him to think of the burnings he might be facing alone while he's on his quest. How many burnings would a phoenix be forced to endure alone in captivity?

That thought is the final flint strike that sparks the dry kindling of his heart. His fever spikes and smoke rises from his skin, releasing any moisture that remains.

The kiln is quickly emptied and Pero is left with his kin. The heat coming from him absorbs into the brick all around him and radiates back onto the others, kick-starting their own immolation.

This is the price for the gift of phoenix fire. The weakness in his body will be consumed and tempered back into strength enough for ten men. Again and again this process will happen to those lucky enough to have a long lifetime, until there's nothing left to offer from their body except the ash they leave behind.

There is a cycle to the fire, as there is to everything in the world. A natural ebb and flow that sustains the cycle of life and death. So when whispers reached the market on an ill wind from the East, rumors of powder so fine it could turn air into fire and kill a dozen men at once, unease urged him to seek the truth out for himself.

He traveled to other villages and stalked the markets and taverns there and the whispers congregated into something more.

They call it black powder and use it as a weapon of warfare in mortal hands.

There are other communities of their kind and each seemed to be blessed with different gifts: just as his own village had great strength and heightened senses, he'd heard stories of fiery flight and magic spells crafted into warbling songs.

The possibility that phoenix ash was being used for such ill means chilled him. It was unnatural that a phoenix would be forced into burns that would eat itself into death.

As the rumors solidified a sense of duty grew within him. He would seek out this black powder and if it truly was phoenix ash he'd put a stop to its use for only death and destruction.

Pero's breathing is labored and heavy. His eyes, now almost completely blind, can only watch the movement of the flames that rise from where his hands rest on his legs.

Letting go of his worries is a relief and he gladly embraces the searing heat that takes over his consciousness.

"How do you handle this heat, Tovar?" William asks, forcing the question through peeling lips.

"It reminds me of home, amigo," Pero replies, not bothering to open his eyes as he takes in the strong heat from the sun above them.

The heat soothes him. The role of the heartless mercenary he's had to play for the last year wears on him. While there is a kernel of truth to his dogged pursuit of the black powder, the boastful words of being the strongest in the land sours his tongue and proclamations of the powder being a weapon of dreams curdle in his belly when he's forced to swallow them.

The unforgiving landscape that sprawls in front of them seems endless, but there are alcoves here and there were they can rest, and it's in one of these where a slope of rock allows for a fire that night.

The beasts attack after nightfall and what remains of their party is captured by the Nameless Order shortly after.

The entire fortress smells of it. Black powder. Phoenix ash.

It permeates every room he has been in, and it's almost welcome as it covers the stench of the Tao Tei gore spoiling the land at the base of the wall.

It's a sharp acidity on the hands of those that pass them, and he wonders if the ash is the only thing that stains them or if it's blood as well.

Ballard is the key. It's easy to sway a prideful man like him and soon he is setting flame to a few pilfered grains of black powder in his quarters in front of them, eager to show off for the newcomers.

It's only when Pero inhales the smoke and tastes the bitterness that coats the back of his tongue that he acknowledges the truth: there is no mistaking the taste of phoenix ash. The small portion of hope that his suspicions were wrong fades away to leave an ache in his chest.

And he must smile in wonder at the evidence right in front of him as Ballard crows and preens.

"Why have we not seen them?" William asks after the weapons and Pero listens closely as Ballard unveils his plan.

Freedom or death, there is no other end for any of them.

William Garin is a good man. It's unfortunate that it's at this point in Pero's quest that William's conscious decides to have a say in the man's actions.

It's easier to manipulate men blinded by greed and fear, like Ballard.

“He'll be here," Pero says as he examine the blade of his dagger.

"When? When it's over?" Ballard demands while darting to the doorway, anxious for anyone to find them.

"We start and he will find us."

"Start?" Ballard doesn't like his answer and rushes to Pero's side, countering his statement with furious whispers. "We're jumping off a cliff here. I have everything. Powder, tools, maps. It's all hidden and arranged along the route. Once we start, there's no going back."

For once Pero agrees with the man.

His inventory finished, he sheathes the blade and leaves the room, confident that Ballard will scurry close behind him.

The black powder is where Ballard said it would be, an a room of it's own in the armory. The smell of ash is so strong here he can barely make out any directions where it's stronger, but movement at the corner of his eye catches his attention. Ballard is too busy filling sacks to notice Pero moving away from the black powder weapons towards a doorway at the back of the room.

Pero catches the movement of shadows coming from underneath the door. It is a locked door behind a locked door, and Pero sees no reason not to use the same key. This time he's prepared for the explosion and only winces at the bright flash of light it produces in the dim room.

While his eyes adjust the rattle of metal guides him to the center of the room. To the figure bound by chains from the ceiling. To you.

You track his movements with unfocused eyes as he comes closer. The chains glow red where they touch your skin, and the air around you shimmers with the heat you're radiating. Your form is bare from head to toe with ash at your feet. He wonders why they haven't collected it. Did they even give you clothing or have you burned through every type of material they've tried to cover you with?

When he is too close you bare your teeth at him and push against your restraints. A screech comes from your throat, raw but still musical. Can you use human speech or have they taken that from you too?

"Paz, paz, fénix," Pero tries in Spanish, and again in a few other languages he knows. You don't react to any of them and he sighs.

Reaching out, he grasps your hand where it's clutching a chain and you watch, eyes trained on him, as he doesn't jerk back at the heat in pain. He shifts his hand to touch more of you and you both listen, eyes locked on each other, but the hiss of burning flesh never comes.

The glow of a banked ember encircles your pupils and you must see something similar in his eyes that makes you relax a fraction and let the chains creak and sway as they take your weight.

It's an easy thing to free you; to take his dagger and use his strength to cut through the links that you've already weakened with your fire. You fall to your knees, but don't crumple at his feet. Shaking arms hold you up until Pero helps you to stand with a supporting arm around your waist.

You're saying something now, in a language he doesn't recognize, but it's the same syllables or word repeated. He looks at you and shakes his head to show his confusion. You repeat the word and press your hand to your chest, and he sees it then. There, under your fingers, the skin has split like the vents of a volcano. He sees them all over you body now that he's looking closer: at the curve of your shoulders and hips, the tops of your breasts and thighs, and cracking the rounded slope of your belly. The light is brightest over your heart and he thinks he might understand what you're saying.

You must burn.

The pounding of footsteps and the accompanying noise of armor-clad bodies approaches the armory and Pero tenses, clutching you to him reflexively. With his attention no longer focused on you he takes in the chamber they've been keeping you in and recognizes it for what it could be: a kiln of your very own.

This isn't the best idea. The armory with the black powder weapons is just outside the door and William is probably up on the wall with the the Order, preparing for the next attack. If they ignite the weapons, will he be far enough away?

You repeat the word again, pleading while you grip the breastplate of his stolen armor.

William's fate has ever rested in his own hands, but Pero still says a quick prayer for the man who had become like a brother to him.

"Paz," he says again and tips your head towards his. Your shoulders drop, your eyes dimming, but you don't fight him when he presses his mouth to yours.

Perhaps you think he is taking advantage of you and that this is just another indignity you must endure, but his kiss is not lascivious. He uses his lips and tongue to part your lips and mouth and when you are open to him he exhales, pushing the air into your lungs like a bellow to stoke the banked fire burning in your heart.

You gasp and release him, tipping your head back even further to exhale a shower of sparks. Again you say that word, crooning and melodic, savoring the taste of it, of him maybe, until you come back to yourself and straighten to your full height.

You tell him something in your language, the tone determined and brooking no argument, and he nods his agreement. A translation is unnecessary.

Pero lowers his head to rest his forehead against yours. The air sizzles and snaps between you as his armor ignites. The hot gusts of your breath fanning over his face is comforting in this strange place and he wonders just how long you've been alone here.

Pero's body is fuel for you and he gives it gladly. It's an exchange: an inhale traded for an exhale until the fire inside is strong. Your magic takes him and melts him down to shape him into something new and winged.

Though strong, the brick and cut stone blocks of the Order's fortress can't hope to hold two phoenixes at the height of their burning, and give way to their force. It causes a chain reaction in the armory, just as he thought it would.

The black powder weapons explode and the blast breaks apart the mortal-made structures around them, clearing the way to the open skies above.

Pero hears you shake and ruffle your feathers beside him, but the only features he can make out from the surrounding blaze are your eyes.

Amid the destruction he feels a sense of peace. The weapons made by twisting phoenix ash are destroyed and you are freed from mortal hands. His quest will be finished when he sees you to safety.

You stretch your neck and sing a string of notes that calls to something deep within him. It tugs behind his chest and when he feels the flap of your wings and the heat of you rise up into the billowing smoke, he follows and you soar like comets across the sky.

Tagging those who be interested: @oonajaeadira @perotovar @djarinmuse @covetyou @ghotifishreads

@galaxyedging

[wonderlanddreamer]

[1919] The cobbled streets of Birmingham.

The story of how Lydia (and Arthur) convinced Tommy to let her keep a Great Dane who followed her home.

[Part of The Lydia Saga]

The overcast sky hung low over Birmingham, casting a muted grey hue over the bustling streets of Small Heath. Lydia Shelby was undeterred by the threat of rain. With her inquisitive eyes sparkling with the promise of adventure, and her dark hair neatly braided, she embodied both the innocence of childhood and the daring spirit that ran through her family's veins. Her mischievous grin widened with each step as she navigated the cobblestone alleys, her small boots delighting in the splash and splatter of puddles underfoot.

Despite her tender age, Lydia possessed an insatiable curiosity that often led her far beyond the watchful gaze of her family. Today, she was on a mission, driven by stories of hidden treasures and secret places whispered among the neighbourhood children. The alleys of Small Heath, with their mix of bustling market stalls and shadowy corners, seemed to Lydia a labyrinth of possibilities—each turn promising new discoveries and excitement.

As she made her way deeper into the heart of the district, the familiar sounds of the city faded, replaced by the distant clatter of train tracks and the occasional bark of a stray dog. As Lydia wandered deeper into the maze of alleyways, the sounds of the bustling city gradually gave way to a quieter, almost secretive atmosphere. The air was filled with the faint scent of coal smoke and damp earth, creating an aura of mystery that only fueled her adventurous spirit. Her ears perked up at a peculiar rustling sound emanating from behind a stack of weathered wooden crates, their surfaces worn smooth by years of use.

Curiosity surged through her, and Lydia tiptoed cautiously towards the source of the noise, her small heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Each step felt deliberate and momentous, as if she were stepping into the pages of a grand adventure tale. As she peered around the edge of the crates, her eyes widened in astonishment at the sight before her.

Looming large in the dim light was a Great Dane, its presence both majestic and gentle. Its coat was a striking shade of grey, with speckles of rusty brown adorning its ears and paws, creating a mosaic of colours that seemed almost painted by hand. The dog's eyes, large and soulful, met Lydia's with an expression that exuded both wisdom and warmth, as if it had been waiting for her all along.

"Hello, big fella," Lydia whispered, her voice an enchanting blend of awe and delight. The Great Dane, as if sensing a kindred spirit in the small girl, wagged its tail with an enthusiasm that belied its enormous size. The gentle thud of its tail against the crates echoed softly, a rhythmic accompaniment to Lydia's giggle.

Encouraged by the dog's response, Lydia reached out with a tentative hand, her fingers brushing against its velvety head. The dog obligingly lowered its great head to her level, inviting her touch with a grace that seemed almost regal. "You look like a Rusty," she decided aloud, giggling as the newly christened Rusty bestowed a slobbery kiss upon her cheek.

As Lydia turned to continue her journey through the winding streets, she noticed Rusty trailing a few paces behind her, his long legs moving with a cautious curiosity. With each step she took, Rusty followed, his presence a comforting shadow that lingered just out of reach. The two of them formed an unlikely pair, the little girl leading the way while her newfound companion watched over her.

Gradually, as if testing the waters of friendship, Rusty began to close the gap between them. His lolloping gait grew more confident, matching Lydia's pace until he was walking beside her, his tail swishing back and forth like a metronome. By the time Lydia reached the familiar confines of Watery Lane, Rusty was trotting faithfully at her side.

As Lydia approached the Shelby home, a familiar mix of excitement and apprehension danced in her chest. She adored her brothers, but she knew them well enough to understand that surprises were not always welcome—especially those with four legs and a wagging tail! Tommy, in particular, was a man who valued order and control, traits not easily reconciled with the spontaneous arrival of a massive canine.

Standing on the doorstep, Tommy Shelby cut a formidable figure, the sharp angles of his tailored suit accentuating his commanding presence. A cigarette hung idly from his lips, a thin wisp of smoke curling into the afternoon air. His keen eyes, ever watchful, narrowed as they settled on the unlikely duo approaching. A flicker of concern creased his brow as he took in the sight of the enormous dog padding alongside his little sister.

"Lydia," he called out, his voice carrying a note of both authority and underlying worry. "Who have you got there?"

Lydia, undaunted by her brother's stern demeanour, beamed up at him with her most radiant smile. "This is Rusty, Tommy. He followed me home!"

Tommy exhaled slowly, a plume of smoke escaping his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest. His mind raced with questions and potential complications. "Lydia, you can’t just bring a stray dog home. What if he’s dangerous? What if he belongs to someone else?"

Lydia paused for a moment, her eyes twinkling with mischief and a hint of the Shelby cunning. "Well, Tommy, you’re always saying to find strong allies, right? Look at Rusty! He’s bigger than Danny Whizz-bang and probably scarier too."

A corner of Tommy’s mouth twitched, betraying a suppressed smile. Lydia had a knack for disarming him with her innocence and clever reasoning.

"And besides," Lydia continued, her cheeky grin widening, "if Rusty belonged to someone else, wouldn’t I have seen someone looking for him by now? He’s not exactly easy to lose."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, momentarily caught off guard by her logic and the spark of Shelby wit she exhibited. He glanced at Rusty, who sat obediently beside Lydia, his eloquent eyes watching the exchange with quiet intelligence. "You make a fair point, little one," Tommy conceded, his tone softening, though he maintained his authoritative air. "But he’ll be a lot of responsibility."

Lydia, sensing that she was slowly winning Tommy over, pressed her advantage with the tact and charm of a seasoned negotiator. "You know, Tommy, I bet Rusty’d be great at keeping the house safe. Imagine having a giant dog like him guarding the front door!"

From the window, Arthur Shelby had been observing the scene with amusement. His broad grin was unmistakable as he pushed open the door and sauntered outside, his presence as boisterous and rugged as ever. "Oh, come on, Tommy," Arthur chimed in with a hearty laugh. "Look at the size of him! He’s practically a walking billboard for ‘Don’t Mess with the Shelbys.’ Who wouldn’t think twice seeing him on the doorstep?"

Tommy sighed, casting a sideways glance at Arthur, whose infectious laughter and mischievous twinkle in his eye made it hard to maintain a stern facade. Tommy ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of exasperation that masked his growing fondness for the idea. He shifted his gaze from Arthur’s grinning face to Lydia’s hopeful eyes, her pleading expression charming him more than he wanted to admit.

"Fine," Tommy relented, rolling his eyes but unable to completely stifle a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "But he’s your responsibility, Lydia. You feed him, you clean up after him, and you make sure he doesn’t chew on my shoes."

Lydia squealed with joy, her face lighting up with pure delight as she threw her arms around Rusty's massive neck. The Great Dane, sensing his acceptance into the fold, wagged his tail with joyful enthusiasm.

Arthur clapped Tommy on the shoulder, his laughter still bubbling over. "See, brother? Even the toughest bookies in Birmingham need a soft spot somewhere."

Tommy shook his head, a rare warmth in his eyes as he watched Lydia with her new companion. "Just keep him out of the betting shop, Arthur. Last thing we need is Rusty collecting debts."

[mxbbadperson]

*crashes through wall with a bottle* divine being viktor x human Jayce,,, vyou know ponyo??? Yeah viktor would be ponyos mom in a way.

Jayce being astounded by the sheer beauty and size viktor has … also viktor with long eyelashes.

ohoHOHOHOHOHO hope you like this, anon!

jayce knows that his dream melding magic and technology together will work, it will. he's missing something right now but when he figures it out what, he'll succeed! he'll show everyone a wonder! so for now, he needs materials and while he could go to piltoverian markets, his allowance from his mom and the kiramman's are running low so he has to find them cheap.

jayce goes to the undercity. but not before he finds a undercity man to buy clothes off because this trip is dumb but jayce isn't that dumb to go around dressed like a piltoverian. and as he looks around for parts, he thumbs through notebook and of course someone bumps into him and it falls. jayce picks it up and worriedly looks through it and the parts he bought in an alley, his back against a faded mural.

when he's satisfied that his notebook and parts are in order, he goes back to piltover. something, someone follow him up. and jayce meets them by accident! because when he's moving crystals, one of them falls and fuck, how can jayce be this clumsy?! and it blows a hole through his apartment. jayce is so fucking fucked. the enforcers come, caitlyn hovering around him ready to defend him but jayce knows with certainty he's gonna be expelled from the academy and possibly even banished from piltover.

and it's when jayce has lost all hope, is facing piltover and on the edge of the hole in his apartment wall that someone appears. the person-the man?-is massive. he's sitting down on the road between jayce's apartment and other buildings. his hair is dark and he's dressed like a zaunian and when he leans down to look at jayce-oh, his eyes are gold. jayce blurts out a question, what does he want?!

and the being tells him to stay strong because there's something in his notes, to keep going for himself because that he is the only person that can make him dream come true. jayce stares at him with amazement. the being looks past him and jayce follows his gaze, they're looking at the blackboard. and jayce goes, strangely weak. the being murmurs thoughts and number and formulas and jayce scrambles to write everything down. the being tells him to keep going and jayce breaths out shakily. this... could work. he wakes up. beside his head is his bracelet and his notebook and jayce knows that something visited him in his dream

in his mind, a voice comes to him and jayce thinks that he's hallucinating. he wouldn't it past himself considering the whirlwind of emotions he's feeling. but then writing appears on the page of his notebook and oh. jayce stares at it. touches the word with his finger and it comes away wet with ink, oh. jayce talks to the voice and the voice writes formulas and even suggests they break into dean of the academy's lab. keys drop onto jayce's lap and okay, okay, definitely not a hallucination then!

jayce tries to break into the dean of the academy's office, gets caught by a councilor and doesn't go to prison?! jayce stumbles into the office and in a daze, gets everything ready. and... it fucking works, it fucking works! jayce is in disbelief and ecstatic. and he knows that this is only possible because of a being. a spirit or even a god? jayce doesn't know.

this is how jayce spends his days in his lab, thinking and writing and experimenting with a voice in his head and angular and messy handwriting appearing in pieces of paper. one night, he finally gets the courage to ask for their name. viktor, jayce turns it over in his mind and repeats to himself. viktor.

ximena and caitlyn notices it at first, how jayce is leaving things at certain table at the house, his apartment and the lab. jayce has bought tables, puts sketches of a face on each one and set things on them. on the table at the talis house, flowers and food and sweetmilk and jayce asks for the being to protect his mom. at the table in his apartment, jayce leaves his talis red tie, randoms coins and pieces of paper and he asks for the being to look after him. and in the table at the lab, jayce leaves his notes, his drafts, gears and screws and asks the being to believe in him still.

and when sky is hired, she stares at the table, at the face jayce had drawn. that's... jayce sees her looking and gets... nervous. why is she looking at it like that? then sky turns to him and presses something into his hand. jayce looks at it and his breath catches. it's small wooden carving of a person and jayce recognizes the face somehow. he looks back up at sky.

sky tells jayce who it is. that is the nomad, the herald to some, the god of the lost, lost dreams, the broken and the hopeless and protector of childen. he's small to others and large to his followers because he is their lighthouse, the light in the dark, something they can anchor themselves to. he has dark hair and-gold eyes jayce finishes.

sky says that she's surprised to find him here because he's an undercity god. jayce swallows, admits that he visited the undercity once. sky nods, ah, so he followed you to piltover. and that shakes jayce. because a god has seen something in him that he followed him in a place his people aren't welcome in and believed in him anyway.

sky sees the devotion jayce has for the nomad and that makes her like him more. she can trust him because while he's piltoverian, his devotion is true. she promises to help him and jayce is grateful but confused, that's what he hired her for isn't it? she helps in other ways too, gives him more statuettes and wonder of wonders, teaches him to pray. palms pressed together and repeat after me

oh nomad, oh herald, listen to my voice. show me kindness, take my hand and lead me home. show me kindness, comfort me. grant me your mercy and soothe my pain. jayce memorizes it, mutters it to himself before every presentation, before every party and gala and before bed when he remembers to. and when the hexgate is built, jayce takes hours to build something. it's a plaque to be installed at the bottom. oh nomad, oh herald, listen to my voice. show me kindness, take my hand and grant me comfort. show me kindness, grant me your brilliance, your light. show me kindness, let me hear your voice and bless my voyage.

and when mel suggests being a councilor, jayce prays to viktor. he asks what he should do and viktor answers that that's up to him. so jayce asks him what he thinks. viktor is silent for a moment and jayce waits for his answer with dread. when viktor speaks, he slowly says that having the power of councilor... could help people in the undercity. jayce breathes out, his decision has been made. and he prays before each council meeting.

(and in his mind, in the depths of his heart, jayce has a new prayer. my nomad, my herald, viktor, my viktor, listen to my voice. show me kindness, take my hand and lead me home. show me kindness, let me hear your voice and bless my voyage. show me kindness, grant me comfort, grant me your brilliance, your light. show me kindness and grant me the warmth of your hands, of your embrace.

because his god viktor is the concept and the truth of it. of hope, of stubbornness, of beauty and of love. but he never writes it down, never says it out loud because he's afraid of what viktor will say)

when the undercity-zaun-wants, demands, independence, jayce is right there. because they are viktor's, his god's, people so he has to help. he meets with vander and silco and he knows that they're distrustful of him so jayce breaths in and shows them a wooden carving, the same one sky gave him years ago. they stare. that's an undercity-zaunian-god. they still don't trust jayce, he's a piltoverian, an inventor and councilor but he knows one of their gods so maybe he can be trusted just a sliver.

when zaun is independent, jayce falls asleep happy. and when he opens his eyes, viktor his god is in front of him. viktor's looking at him with such amazement that jayce doesn't know what to do, struck speechless. viktor tearfully thanks him, even reaches for him. and jayce stumbles closer. viktor hugs him, cries into his shoulder. thank you, thank you, thank you, jayce. and jayce hold him close, his heart in his throat, not knowing where to place his hands.

and when he finally manages to unstick his tongue, sees with such sincerity, anything for you, v, anything for you

[evan-collins90]

The first Torrid store - Brea Mall - Brea, CA (Opened April 18, 2001)

Designed by JGA, Inc. 

From the book: “The retailer, Hot Topic, based in City of Industry, CA, started a short 12 years ago with a concept and a target market; cutting edge apparel, accessories and novelty items--all inspired by alternative music, oriented towards a hip and trendy, teenage market. Hot Topic changed the look of their retail settings, which are usually located in mainstream malls, and the company has recently taken aim at another special market. The new focus is on plus-size teens; an area that the fashion market seems to have neglected. 

Up until this time the 15-30 year old hip and trendy young women who wear sizes 14-26 had no other choice but to shop in the larger size women's shops where the fashions were tailored to the more matronly and conservative tastes. That is how Torrid was born! 

Torrid was introduced in a new, hot and fun retail setting designed by JGA, Inc. of Southfield, MI which has designed the various prototypes for the Hot Topic stores as well. To be sure of the need for such a niche to be filled, the company opened five Torrid shops almost simultaneously; the first in Brea, CA, followed by stores in malls in Mission Viejo, CA, Annapolis, MD, Omaha, NE, N. Attleboro, MA, and Littleton, CO. The merchandise offerings are clustered as "Streetwear," "Clubwear," Rockabilly Wear," and Renaissance Wear" and the stores average about 2,750 SF. Besides the "everyday" slacks and novelty T-shirts, these larger size young women can find black vinyl pants and mini-skirts, black corsets, dog-collar chokers and platform shoes as well as retro-inspired clothing and accessories. In addition to the gothic and prom dresses, Torrid also carries a full line of lingerie for this particular market. Listening to the target market, Hot Topic's Torrid offers teenagers and up the opportunity to look "girly yet fierce." 

The design objective for the prototype store that was designed by JGA, Inc. was to create "a celebration of abundance" and make the setting as unique, unconventional and spirited as the plus-size young women who will be shopping here. Inspired by a "mythological, after-hours club in New Orleans," the atmosphere is romantic, dark and filled with a sense of "unbridled passion." "From the signature flaming heart icon to the curving voluptuous lines throughout the store, excessive materials and scale mirror the zest of the Torrid woman." It starts out front with the shopper-stopping facade which serves as a dramatic gateway to the store. 

The curvaceous and sensuous "hourglass" figures of the Torrid customer is expressed in the hand-crafted metalwork and the backlit translucent glass glowing red. A "drippy" red chandelier and the hand blown flaming heart torcheres add to the store's distinctive sense of place and being. The mosaic porcelain tile floor sets the color palette of jewel tones and metallics. "Visually complex, layers of finishes and architectural pieces evoke a one-of-a-kind artistic flavor." The eclectic mix of fixtures, furniture and furnishings-even the armoires--add to the New Orleans flavor. The hand painted, whimsical and overscaled armoires or cabinets are used to anchor the various zones within the store and at the center of the space a large bronze metallic drape further divides the departments.

The designers added special touches to each area to create that unique, one-of-a-kind feeling to the design. Specially designed, oversized red sculptured chairs with slatted backs are featured in the shoe area. Shoes and accessories are displayed on the slatted backs. The lingerie area takes on a more intimate and exotic--almost Moroccan--feeling with the hand blown glass chandeliers suspended down from large plaster domes. Seen behind this area--beyond a hand painted wall and arc--are the individual, oversized dressing rooms which are equipped with flattering uplights and decorative chandeliers that are visible from other parts of the store. The cash wrap becomes a "focal fantasy" in the total design and it resembles a giant canopy bed topped with twisting shapes and forms.

The space is filled with a pulsating excitement that is so appropriate for the merchandise and the young clientele. In addition to the shimmering palette of rich, deep colors, the warm colored downlights not only enrich the ambient colors and textures but they enhance the merchandise display. The traditional long and narrow mall space is broken up into more personal and individual zones by the variations in ceiling heights, the tin ceilings, finials and the assorted wall coverings. The use of brocades, metallics, and jewel tones on the walls also help to differentiate areas in the store. The metal fixture system--tortoise shell like in appearance--was customized to accommodate the products unique size and length requirements.

If all goes as well as anticipated we can expect to see more and more Torrid shops opening up across the USA- maybe even as many as 700 outlets!”

Images and text were scanned from the book, Stores of the Year 14 by Martin Pegler (2003)

[amelie-sama-blog]

we've gotten to a point where people polluted by the anti spirit are now even dogging on teens and women thirsting for male kpop idols.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. literally pea sized brain conversations. at the very least, extreme ignorance as to how the kpop industry makes its money.

uhm....? what the actual fuck. be for real right now. "disgusting and just weird"? i have some really bad news for all these commenters...

yes. yes they are. and that's, NEWS FLASH, COMPLETELY NORMAL. were any of these people ever teens?? having crushes on adult celebs is extremely common. and discovering their budding sexuality through these feelings is also VERY COMMON.

when i was younger, i also read BTS smut. and?

it was mediocre quality writing, and bad characterisation most of the time, but i didn't know that, i just enjoyed my time with it.

young girls and grown women feeling sexual feelings and exploring them in fiction shouldn't be this taboo. it's normal. it's to be expected.

"using them for their own greedy sexual fantasies"? at this point my eyes are falling out of my skull!

SEXUAL FANTASIES AREN'T GREEDY. putting sexual fantasies into harmless text format is NOT GREEDY. it's fucking normal. like, wtf do these people think about when they masturbate.

....sooo, do these people never imagined anything sexual about anyone ever? are all beings in their sexual fantasies fictional with no references to real people? have they never fantasised about their crushes before?

and what does even "hard stan means liking a darker concept" mean! dark concepts are often the sensual ones, so you're supposed to like those but because of pure christian feelings and not because you're a human forming a parasocial relationship with a boyband which more often than not involves sexual feelings?

these people all need a serious wake up call. BTS will never know what's going on in your head, using them as puppets for sexual fantasies and gratification is perfectly normal.

it's even MORE NORMAL, because surprise surprise, the ENTIRE kpop industry is built on, profits off of, and actively encourages parasocial relationships and behaviour. the marketing goal for boy bands is to make a maximum of girls fall for their charms, through various means such as music, good looks, nice personalities, and other displays of character in all the variety shows and live-streams and other content they produce.

making girls thirst, is literally how they make their money. making girls fantasise, is literally how they make their money.

and forming a parasocial relationship founded on attraction, inevitably leads to sexual feelings partaking.

also, they know what they're doing. baepsae's choreography didn't get magically bestowed upon them by the heavens. a choreographer worked that out with the company, and did so with a purpose.

as such is the business model of the kpop industry. girls and women are supposed to fantasise. to catch feelings. to thirst. to imagine jungkook "railing them at 3am". it will make them go to concerts, buy merch, follow their socials, stream their music, buy albums, and finance the industry.

these virtue signalers are truly delusional if they think the kpop industry isn't MAKING BANK on exactly what they're calling out to be "creepy and disgusting".

[ipc-lapdog]

Wanted Plots

- - - - - 💴

Alrighty time to set Skott free from his cage and actually like. Interact with everyone. Aren’t you all excited 💛💛. Feel free to ping me or DM on discord, open to both teyvat and Honkai muses as well !

Commission Board — CRYSTALLIZE

Teyvat [needs a teyvat muse]

The famed Lantern Rite: Liyue’s famed Lantern Rite is just around the corner, and tourists from all across the land have already begun flocking into the Harbor. Of course, with so many naive souls looking forward to the celebrations, less savory individuals will follow. The demand for bodyguards exceeds the abilities of both the Millelith and private parties, and so a recommendation comes for visitors to journey in groups.

> Now who is he to say no to MUCH needed vacation to a festival he’s only just heard of. Who’s willing to show him around .. come on it won’t be that bad it’s just Skott! ^^;

- - -

Story Telling: Liyue’s famous Pearl Galley invites everyone on board for a true treat for ears and minds: a storytelling contest! In the finest company, to the smell and taste of the highest quality snacks and tea, you may choose the category you like best. A traditional folktale? A comedy? A ghost story? There’s even an amateur class competition if you’d like to try to tell a tale or two yourself! And remember to bring a friend along so that you can engage in a refined discussion of the story’s merits afterwards. It’s only proper!

> He has a lot of spirit, who’s to say he’d act out at a little story telling contest. Surely nothing can go wrong when Lyndon Skott is thrown into the mix . . .

- - -

Sea of Quanta

Soulglad vs Souljoy: A great brand will inevitably have its cheap knock-offs, trying to grab a piece of the pie - or at least a few crumbs - for themselves. Such is the case for SoulGlad, which now faces a rival, SoulJoy, entering the Penaconian market in reality and dream alike. It turns out that, for a knock-off, it’s actually pretty good, and so factions form both in favor and against it - and before long, the Planet of Festivities is plunged into chaos.

> Being one who quite honestly enjoys a glass of soulglad here and there, of course Skott would have an opinion on the whole matter. People always blown away by the newest thing on the market while simply bashing the brand that their brand stole from. He’s not going to sit back on the sidelines, it’s time for protest! It’s time to show those dirty Souljoy enjoyers they’re wrong and should have never had an opinion to begin with! . . . Or something like that. He has to be professional obviously, he represents the ipc afterall

- - -

Prison Break: Ever since the Shackling Prison break, tensions and anxiety among the Luofu guards have been high, what with their inability to properly stop the borisin put on full display. Among the devoted soldiers, no one cares that their leader was freakin’ Hoolay in the flesh - as far as they’re concerned, they still should have put up more of a fight. Before long, it is decided: a new boot camp and training regiment is in order. Now, all they need is some skilled trainers and instructors who are willing to impart upon them new skills and knowledge, put them to the test and prepare them to face the big bad wolf should there ever come a next time. Of course, your efforts will be properly compensated.

Snatched !

- - -

Belobog Creature: Though Belobog was a far cry from defrosting, expeditions out of the city are easier to execute on. One such expedition resulted in a rather… odd specimen. A strange creature, with a segmented trunk for a nose and gnarled tusks. Faint hues of pink radiate from inside, with faded pink markings decorating what would just be white and dark purple skin. Despite its massive size, there are no previous records of creatures like this on Belobog, and a signal has been put out, requesting any further information on this strangely alien beast and how it may have gotten here.

> Skott is never one to poke his nose in things he finds uninteresting but after some pushing (force) there he finds himself alongside other companions he’d much rather not see for again for awhile. Apparently he might just have the information needed to help log the thing or maybe he’s just there to make things difficult for others, who knows.

- - -

Always open to ideas to throw Skott into, even just silly interactions like debates or making fun of him. However I would love to explore more of Skott’s character and interactions with those around him. Don’t be scared to toss an idea in my DMS or ping me in the server 💛💛.

[iturbide]

First, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR EXPLANATIONS I AM ABSORBING THEM-

Second- In terms of ‘history’, I don’t necessarily mean anything violent or such, I mean it more in terms of well… How the city was built, how the religious setting changed, how people of importance entered and maintained their positions. Just.. the things that are recorded and spoken about by historians.

Also- Now I’m Very Curious as to what brought Mirym and Dain there, but I have a feeling it’s Spoilers. That, or friendship.

I'M GLAD YOU'VE BEEN ENJOYING THEM I have. So much lore. It's ridiculous frankly.

But in terms of that history...there's really nothing of particular note? It was established first as a mining settlement to take advantage of both the mountains for quarrying and the nearby river for stone shipping, building up rather gradually from a utilitarian settlement to a settled village, then a larger town, and finally building out into a more proper 'city' (though anyone who's seen cities can tell that it's perhaps ambitious to call it such). The walls have been in development for quite a while, with the first iteration just being an attempt to control floods along the tributary (which were not overly successful; eventually they just had to let the plants grow, which also helped with filtration of the water) but gradually building out over years to surround the city, with gates as a security measure. Some of the oldest sectors of the city are the central plaza (where the market is held), the mill, and the craftsman's quarter near the southern edge, which ultimately put a hard limit on the overall growth in that direction since they can't really move their millhouse and the long-term use of those spaces has left distinct effects; similarly, the buildings closest to the craftsman's quarter are mostly used for storage rather than residency or sales since, y'know, that's where the loud and otherwise unpleasant trades do business (like the tanner).

The religious setting has been a change a long time coming, but it's a fairly routine story for all such cities. After a certain point, ambient magic in a city like that just dries up, and ends up mostly forgotten as the generations pass without anyone being able to effectively learn the craft, which in turn leads to their potential vilification. By the same turn, the old belief in Wild Spirits is forgotten along with magic, and what remains is a shadow of what was: in the case of the city, Six Gods and a Tainted Seventh (representing the elements of light, wood, earth, air, fire, water, and exiling the dark). The belief in Gods over Spirits has spread organically from settlement to settlement once it reaches a size where ambient magic is no longer present in usable quantities, with variations based on regional differences.

Given that this is a pretty self-sufficient town, there hasn't been so much to speak of regarding the everyday history. Magistrates come and go, marshals come and go, brought to their positions by virtue of their skills and sometimes stepping down, other times being removed. It's the kind of boring, dry, names and dates history that drives school children up the wall and I'm not putting any more work into it than that because I'm sparing my inner child.

As for what brought Miryn and Dain, you have to wait until Book 3

[forever-eternal]

Some more of Alternate Fenris: Like I said before, if you want to give them a nickname-- feel free!

Outertale

This Sans is an astrologist and rocket scientist, though he doesn’t share a heart condition as bad as his counterparts he still isn’t allowed to have coffee. Coffee cake, which is Papyrus’ specialty and favorite thing to make, is an amazing substitute and in many more flavor combos than the drink. This Fenris believes gravity is a social construct and floats around half the time, no matter what form she’s in. The humans trapped on the asteroid belt have evolved to not need air to breathe.

Dancetale

Flexibility training allows Fenris’ focus on complex aerial and acrobatic dancing, but will breakdance with Sans and perform fast-paced Latin dances with Papyrus for fun. This Fenris is more focused than she is mean, though her bluntness can still be read as rude by those who don’t know her.

Reapertale

With adopted brothers being Reapers, the Gods of Death, Fenris is the Spirit of Redemption and Retribution. Sometimes seen in dark forests as an abnormally large, white wolf that seems to glow faintly in the dark. More usually seen as a shoeless, hooded figure with a Double-Bladed Axe.

Mobtale

Part of a crime family. Sans is a member of the Upper Circle known as The Judge, while Papyrus is a lower rank referred to as Guard Bones. Fenris manipulates the housing market by buying/building and selling towns in a select area, selecting someone to be ‘Mayor’, and using their money to add onto and upgrade the town (think that song ‘Nook, Line, and Sinker’ by Stupendium). The town’s all depend on how much money the Mayor collects and gives to her. This puts all the blame on ‘Mayor’ instead of herself, even if the residents are the ones who didn’t pay anything.

Some of her towns are great places to live, others are not. It all depends on how much the residents are willing to pay for upgrades and upkeep. When the ‘Mayor’s get rowdy, she has her brother and the Family to back her up.

Oceantale

The Fontman Family have been pirates for generations, born and raised on the open seas. It was only a matter of time for them to find a selkie, a young Harp Seal Selkie. Despite the fact that she’s full grown, this Fenris retains her white fur when she’s decided to go about as a seal. Her love language is gifting shells and other pretty things she finds in the ocean, and these item have only grown more valuable the longer she lives on the ship. She has never heard of a hairbrush.

Instead of a werewolf, she becomes a seal with walrus tusks, nearly the size of a humpback whale.

Storyshift

Princess Fenris is the youngest of the Fontman Royal Family. One of her brothers, Prince Papyrus, vanished when she was still super young. Her oldest brother, King Sans, is incredibly protective of his remaining sibling. This Fenris is a bit younger than most of her alternates, about 17, and is very sheltered. Despite this, she is still incredibly curious and is often in places she shouldn’t be.

[torpublishinggroup]

Showdown in the Skies: Aliens Vs. Dragons!

Strange lights fill the skies. So too does the beating of giant wings.

Shadows of an ominous future meet legends of a mythic past, and do battle. We do not come in peace, for here be dragons.

We’ve assembled a panel of experts to weigh in on the potential victors of each fight.

Check it.

The Xenomorph Vs. Toothless

Proposed Victor: Toothless Expert: Tessa Villanueva, Editorial Assistant

“What chance does anything even have against the Alpha of All Dragons? The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself? Yes, Toothless may look cute and adorable, but his intelligence is unparalleled–he’s been known to show smart and strategic thinking. He can fly over 100 mph and is agile and strong enough to dive-bomb giant dragons and knock them to the ground. He also has plasma blasts, unerring accuracy, and an indomitable fighting spirit that won’t quit–and he fights for his friends? Does the Xenomorph have friends? (Yes, she has a hive, but are they really friends?)”

Proposed Victor: The Xenomorph Expert: a cat, Assistant Marketing Manager

“The Xenomorph is an acid-blooded, highly adaptive social hunter who has proven time and time again that in space we can hear you scream when it bursts out your chest. She’s a star terror of cinema and has torn through the armor of the Predator, and she frequently carries me to victory royales in Fortnite. Fans of Alien (1979), Aliens (1986), Alien 3 (1992), Alien: Resurrection (1997), Prometheus (2012), and Alien: Covenant (2017) understand that Toothless, who is domesticated and trained, will be ruined, ribboned, and folded into a scary xeno-cocoon.”

Stitch Vs. Melanchthon

Proposed Victor: Melancthon Expert: Mal Frazier, Editorial Assistant

“So, you might think Stitch is going to win. Sure, there’s no way that the cutest character could ever defeat the scariest character, but we’ll give him a fair crack. Dragon #7332 (no, not your buddy’s discord username) from The Iron Dragon’s Daughter by Michael Swanwick is rusting in a heap in the disgusting child labor factory for years when he finally finds an appropriately malleable pilot and steals Jane. He’s a giant metal dragon war machine built by fairies who eat death magic and [spoilers for a book older than me] kills the entire world. Yes, the whole thing. I think he’s neat. Also he’s named after a dead philosopher which has to give you a stats boost if some kind.”

Proposed Victor: Stitch Expert: Lizzy Hosty, Publishing Strategy Assistant

“Experiment 626 was created to cause chaos across an entire galaxy. According to the mad scientist who created Stitch, he’s bulletproof, fireproof, can think faster than a computer, can see in the dark, and move objects 3,000 times his size. His first instinct is literally destruction. It’s like he was created to not only survive a fight against a dragon, but absolutely destroy them; change my mind.”

Zanj Vs. Tairn

Proposed Victor: Zanj Expert: a cat, Assistant Marketing Manager

“Okay before anything else, if space-pirate-werewolf-queen Zanj asked me to join her in (un)holy matrimony, I would ascend to her side instantly, madly, and without hesitation. By that metric at least she’s the most powerful combatant of this whole bracket, and I think we should take that into account. Max Gladstone’s phenomenal Empress of Forever chronicles the second conflict between Zanj and her allies against the omnipotent Jade Empress, who can destroy planets with her thoughts. Yeah. Zanj is back for round two. But Tairn won’t be.”

Proposed Victor: Tairn Expert: Lizzy Hosty, Publishing Strategy Assistant

“I just read Fourth Wing (I’m late to the party, I know), and when I tell you Tairn could literally destroy a whole fleet, I’m so serious. This dragon took on multiple [redacted] and didn’t even flinch. His only weakness would be keeping his rider alive, but for the purposes of this, Tairn has claimed no rider, so he’s practically invincible and nothing could change my mind. He can shoot fire, his teeth are as big as humans, his wing span could crush dozens just accidentally. Need I say more.”

Deoxys Vs. Chronormu

Proposed Victor: Chronormu Expert: a cat, Assistant Marketing Manager

“Look Deoxys might come from space, but Chronormu helped stave off the invasion of the Burning Legion. Twice. She isn’t afraid. She’s cute, she’s trans, she’s a guardian of the timeways, and when she glances at this silly triangle-island (remember that puzzle? It was awful) and chooses FIGHT, it’ll be a OHKO. Plus Deoxys has base 50 HP, no matter what form it’s in. Flop.”

Proposed Victor: Deoxys Expert: Tessa Villanueva, Editorial Assistant

“First of all, Deoxys came from outer space from INSIDE A METEOR. You cannot get more metal than that. It was on its way to destroy the world, but it stopped just to have this little battle. It’s capable of using any of its Formes to gain an advantage in battle, whether it’s Normal, Attack, Defense, or Speed. It’s also able to regenerate any part of its body! Not to mention its ultimate signature attack, Psycho Boost–sure, the recoil will lower its special attack, but no one’s going to survive that…”

[conjuremanj]

Fet Gede/Day Of The Dead Celebration.

La Source Ancienne Ounfo – is one of the New Orleans based Vodou society – that celebrats the Day of the Dead/Fet Gede with an annual Vodou ceremony to invoke the Gede so we can come together in community to honor the dead (family) or not.

In Mexico's Days of the Dead are the days when the veil separating the Living and the Dead is most diffuse and the Dead come back to visit the living – children visit on Oct 31st, the familial adults on November 1st, and the unremembered Dead on November 3rd. The Haitian Day of the Dead, Fet Gede – the festival of the Sacred Dead, coincides with the Mexican Days of the Dead. The entire month of November.

November 1st. & 2nd. In Haiti & New Orleans this holiday can be a vibrant as Mardi Gras and as sacred as St John’s Eve.

During Fete Gede we “feed” the ancestors with offerings of food or foods that their dearly departed by laying it at their gravesite and wear black white and purple clothing throughout the event.

On this day we actually dance with the spirits. The particular death Lwa that we pay our respects to on this day is (Papa Gede) Baron Samedi, Maman Brigette and the family of Gede.

Even if you are not able to make it to Haiti or New Orleans for Fet Gede festivities here is an outline on how you can still pay tribute to the dead in the New Orleans tradition on a smaller scale.

If you have your own spiritual practice review your practice’s guidelines, incorporate aspects that pay respect Below is a suggestion for honoring the core Gede of the Cemetery on this special occasion.

Preparation: Before you even walk into the cemetery you should be prepared with the following:

Offerings: Pennies and/or rice: I use pennies) To pay the dead before entering the cemetery and at gravesites.

Food: Homestyle food that your loved ones would enjoyed.

Flowers: White, purple or red & flowers that your ancestors liked.

Rum. (you can purchase the shot bottle size) or Coffee (strong/dark) A small pack of cigars or cigarettes (unfiltered)

Wear: black, purple or white.

Visit: On the day of your visit take a shower or bath before getting dressed. As you dress align your thoughts and intentions. Collect your offerings. When you arrive at the cemetery gate: You should ask permission from spirit to enter. Leave a few pennies or rice at the gate. if you get a yes or no answer. If your intuition tells you that you should not enter thank the spirits go away and come back another day, try another cemetery. It's not a bad thing try another cemetery and ask again. Once inside visit the Gede family. The first plot to visit is Papa Gede /Baron Samedi: Aka the Baron (Lord). In catholic and Haitian graveyards, this marker is usually very prominent as the Cross of Baron.

Offering Day: Rum & Cigars. Also acceptable: Coffee, roasted peanuts, sunglasses with one lens, small raunchy toys or souvenirs.

Greeting: (Taken from Voodu Visions: By Sally Ann Glassman)“For the Bawon, in her society– they say these words.

Say: Come to the crossroads, dance, joke, you who are the sentence of death. Accept our offerings. Enter into our hearts, our arms, our legs. Enter and dance with us.”or“Father of all the dead help is us in our (our named persons) grief, let us welcome the dead to the Mysterious Abyss. Make us ever potent and my our offspring be safe in your care”(Place your offering)

Place your offering by pouring some of the rum and puffing a cigar or placing some tobacco. Do not inhale the smoke.

Once you have greeted Papa Gede next visit Maman Brigit Maman Brigit (Gran/Brijit/Brigette) is honored. She is the wife of Baron Samedi and the Goddess of Death. In Celtic traditions she is Brigit. In Yoruba she is Oya. Maman Brijit is a very powerful Lwa and the queen of banda dancing and the market place.

Offerings to her: Coffee or Pepper rum, Purple flowers (violets, lavender, iris, or fuchsia). Puff smoke from the tobacco.

Greeting Maman Brijit: A song that Haitians sing to Maman Brijit goes as follows as translated from Haitian Creole.

“Gentlemen of the cross (ancestors) advance for her to see them! Maman Brigitte is sick, she lies down on her back, A lot of “talk” won’t raise the dead, Tie up your head, tie up your belly, tie up your kidneys, (imitate tying a belt around your waist) They will see how they will get down on their knees.” (get down on your knees) “Maman Brijit, awake it is Fet Gede today”!or“I am calling you Maman Brijit, can you see? I bring food/ smoke and drink to honor you. Please accept this offering. This food and drink and smoke are for you Maman, please bless me with (Healing/ Prosperity/ Favor with … through your grace Maman Brijit.” (Give your offering) Place your offering by pouring some of the rum and puffing a cigar or placing some tobacco. Do not inhale the smoke.

If you are visiting relatives: Pay your respects at their grave, leaving flowers, food or wine. Talk to them.

Make sure to clean up any trash and consider cleaning off their grave. If you don’t have any relatives see if you can find a gravestone with your family’s last name, a noteworthy ancestor of a similar background as you who lived in the town or someone who resonates with you.

Leaving the Cemetery. Before you leave the cemetery Give thanks, collect your personal belongings, clean up if needed and leave immediately. Do NOT look back (Even if you hear someone call out to you…). There is a belief that looking back will invite ghosts to follow you home… When you arrive at your next location wash your hands with the bottle of water before you enter your home over some earth. Then shake the remaining water out on the earth. This helps to prevent any negative energy from ‘sticking’ to you, wipes away mourning and loss, and returns it to the earth.

[abellinthecupboard]

The Last Mojave Indian Barbie

Wired to her display box were a pair of one-size-fits-all-Indians stiletto moccasins, faux turquoise earrings, a dream catcher, a copy of Indian Country Today, erasable markers for chin and forehead tattoos, and two six-packs of mini magic beer bottles—when tilted up, the bottles turned clear, when turned right-side-up, the bottles refilled. Mojave Barbie repeatedly drank Ken and Skipper under their pink plastic patio table sets. Skipper said she drank like a boy. Mojave Barbie secretly hated the color of her new friends' apricot skins, how they burned after riding in Ken's convertible Camaro with the top down, hated how their micro hairbrushes tangled and knotted in her own thick, black hair, which they always wanted to braid. There wasn't any diet cola in their cute little ice chests, and worst of all, Mojave Barbie couldn't find a single soft spot on her body to inject her insulin. It had taken years of court cases, litigation, letters from tribal council members, testimonials from CHR nurses, and a few diabetic comas just to receive permission to buy the never-released hypodermic needle accessory kit—before that, she'd bought most on the Japanese black market—Mattel didn't like toying around with the possibility of a Junkie Barbie. Mojave Barbie had been banned from the horse stables and was no longer invited to dinner, not since she let it slip that when the cavalry came to Fort Mojave, the Mojaves ate a few horses. It had happened, and she only let it slip after Skipper tried to force her to admit the Mojave Creation was just a myth: It's true. I'm from Spirit Mountain, Mojave Barbie had said. No, you're not, Skipper had argued. You came from Asia. But Mojave Barbie wasn't missing much—they didn't have lazy man's bread or tortillas in the Barbie Stovetop to Tabletop Deluxe Kitchen. In fact, they only had a breakfast set, so they ate the same two sunny-side-up eggs and pancakes every meal. Each night after dinner, Mojave Barbie sneaked from the guesthouse—next to the tennis courts and Hairtastic Salon—to rendezvous with Ken, sometimes in the collapsible Glamour Camper, but most often in the Dream Pool. She would yenni Ken all night long. (Yenni was the Mojave word for sex, explained a culturally informative booklet included in Mojave Barbie's box, along with an authentic frybread recipe, her Certificate of Indian Blood, a casino player's card, and a voided per capita check.) They took precautions to prevent waking others inside the Dream House—Mojave Barbie's tan webbed hand covering Ken's always-open mouth muffled his ejaculations. One night, after drinking a pint of Black Velvet disguised as a bottle of suntan lotion, Ken felt especially playful. Ken was wild, wanted to sport his plastic Stetson and pleather holsters, wanted Mojave Barbie to wear her traditional outfit, still twist-tied to her box. She agreed and donned her mesquite-bark skirt and went shirtless except for strands of blue and white glass beads that hung down in coils around her neck. The single feather in her hair tickled Ken's fancy. He begged Mojave Barbie to wrap her wide, dark hips around him in the “Mojave Death Grip,” an indigenous love maneuver that made him thankful for his double-jointed pelvis. (A Mojave Death Grip Graphic How-To Manual was once included in the culturally informative booklet, but a string of disjointed legs and a campaign by the Girl Scouts of America led to a recall.) Ken pointed his wooden six-shooter and chased her up the Dream Slide. The weight of the perfectly proportioned bodies sent the pool accessory crashing to the patio. Every light in every window painted itself on as the Dream House swung open from the middle, giving all inside a sneak peak at naked Ken's hard body and naked Mojave Barbie gripping his pistol, both mid-yenni and dripping wet. Ken was punished by Mattel's higher-ups, had his tennis racket, tuxedo, Limited Edition Hummer, scuba and snorkel gear, aviator sunglasses, Harley, windjammer sailboard, his iPad and iPhone confiscated. Mojave Barbie had been caught red-handed and bare-breasted. She was being relocated—a job dealing blackjack at some California casino. On her way out the gate, she kicked the plastic cocker spaniel, which fell sideways but never pulled its tongue in or even barked—she felt an ache behind her 39 EE left breast for her rez dog, which had been discontinued long ago. Mojave Barbie tossed a trash bag filled with clothes and accessories into her primered Barbie Happy Family Volvo, which she'd bought at a yard sale. The car had hidden beneath a tarp in the Dream House driveway since she got there. She climbed through the passenger door over to the driver's seat, an explosion of ripped vinyl, towels, and duct tape. She pumped and pumped the gas pedal, clicked and clicked the ignition, until the jalopy fired up. Mojave Barbie rolled away, her mismatched hubcaps wobbling and rattling, a book of yellow WIC coupons rustling on the dash, and a Joy Harjo tape melted in the tape deck blaring, I'm not afraid to be hungry. I'm not afraid to be full. Mom and Dad Barbie, Grandma Barbie, Skipper, and Ken stood on the Dream House balcony and watched Mojave Barbie go. Grandma Barbie tilted at the waist whispering to Mom Barbie, They should've kept that one in the cupboard. Dad Barbie piped in, Yep, it's always a gamble with those people. Mom Barbie was silent, hoping the purpling, bruise-like marks the size of mouths circling Ken's neck were not what she thought they were: hickies, or, as the culturally informative booklet explained, a “Mojave necklace.” Skipper complained to Ken that Mojave Barbie had flipped them off as she drove out the wrought-iron gates, which, of course, locked behind her with a clang. Ken fingered the blue bead in his pocket and reassured Skipper, Mojave Barbie was probably waving goodbye—with hands like that, you can never be sure.

— Natalie Diaz, When My Brother Was an Aztec (2012)

[culturesfinest]

Kingston jamaica stickers ( kiss-cut ) dark - etiqueta engomada A kiss-cut provides you with the ultimate flexibility for implementing your vision—this method cuts the sticker into any shape you desire, while leaving the back intact so that it can be smoothly peeled off the page. .: Made 100% with durable vinyl that comes with strong 3M glue for decorations that last. Perfect for spicing up indoor decor (not waterproof). .: Choose between 4 sizes to match your needs. All stickers are 0.004in (4mm) thick and come with a stylish glossy finish. Discover the vibrant essence of the Caribbean with our Kingston Jamaica Stickers, designed to bring a splash of island life to your daily adventures. These Kiss-Cut stickers are intricately crafted to capture the heart and soul of Jamaica’s capital, Kingston. Whether you’re a local, a frequent visitor, or just someone who dreams of the sun-kissed beaches and lively culture of this iconic city, these stickers are the perfect way to personalize your belongings and showcase your love for Jamaica. Our Kingston Jamaica Stickers are a celebration of everything that makes this city unique, from its rich heritage to its modern-day vibrancy. Each sticker is designed with meticulous attention to detail, ensuring that the essence of Kingston is captured in every piece. The designs range from iconic symbols and landmarks to elements that represent the everyday life and spirit of Jamaica. Imagine having a piece of the Bob Marley Museum, the bustling streets of Downtown Kingston, or the serene beauty of the Blue Mountains right at your fingertips. Crafted using the Kiss-Cut technique, these stickers are easy to peel and apply, allowing for versatility in their usage. The Kiss-Cut method ensures that the stickers are cut through the vinyl layer while leaving the paper backing intact. This means you can effortlessly remove them from the sheet and apply them to a wide range of surfaces. Whether you want to decorate your laptop, water bottle, phone case, or notebook, these stickers adhere smoothly and can be removed without leaving any residue, making them perfect for temporary decoration or long-term personalization. Each sticker is printed on durable, high-quality vinyl that is both waterproof and scratch-resistant. This ensures that your Kingston Jamaica Stickers will withstand the test of time and retain their vibrant colors, even when exposed to the elements. Whether you’re exploring the island’s rugged landscapes, lounging by the beach, or going about your daily routine, these stickers are built to last, just like your love for Jamaica. Aside from being a delightful addition to your personal collection, these stickers also make for a thoughtful gift. Share the spirit of Kingston with friends and family, or give them as a souvenir to remember a memorable trip. They’re ideal for anyone who appreciates the culture, music, and natural beauty that Jamaica offers. With their eye-catching designs and superior quality, these stickers are sure to bring a smile to anyone’s face. The collection includes a variety of designs that highlight different aspects of Kingston. You’ll find stickers featuring stunning illustrations of the city’s skyline, the colorful vibrancy of local markets, and the rhythmic patterns that echo Jamaica’s rich musical heritage. Each design is a testament to the island’s unique charm and the warmth of its people. By incorporating these stickers into your everyday life, you embrace the spirit of Kingston and carry a piece of Jamaica wherever you go. Moreover, these stickers are an excellent way to express your individuality and style. Mix and match different designs to create a personalized collage that reflects your personal connection to Kingston. Whether you’re adorning your travel journal, spicing up your home decor, or adding a touch of the Caribbean to your office space, these stickers provide endless possibilities for creativity and expression. In a world filled with mass-produced items, the Kingston Jamaica Stickers stand out as a unique and authentic way to celebrate a place that holds a special meaning to many. They encapsulate the vibrant culture, breathtaking landscapes, and rhythmic beats that make Kingston a beloved destination. So why wait to infuse your world with a bit of Jamaican sunshine and spirit? Explore our collection today and find the perfect stickers that resonate with your love for Kingston, Jamaica.

[sonalidigitalmarketer]

Website Development Agency in Ahmedabad: Crafting Digital Success

In today’s fast-paced digital world, having a robust online presence is crucial for businesses of all sizes. A well-designed website serves as the cornerstone of your digital identity, attracting customers, building trust, and driving business growth. If you’re searching for the best website development agency in Ahmedabad, you’re taking the first step towards creating a digital masterpiece. This blog explores what makes a great website development agency, the services they offer, and why Ahmedabad is a hub for exceptional web development services.

Why Choose a Website Development Agency in Ahmedabad?

Ahmedabad, a thriving business hub, is home to numerous skilled and innovative web development agencies. Here’s why businesses are flocking to Ahmedabad for website development:

Rich Talent Pool: The city boasts talented developers proficient in cutting-edge technologies like HTML5, CSS3, JavaScript, React, Laravel, and more.

Cost-Effective Solutions: Agencies in Ahmedabad provide high-quality services at competitive prices.

Cultural and Business Synergy: With its entrepreneurial spirit, Ahmedabad fosters a collaborative approach to understanding and fulfilling business needs.

Key Services Offered by Website Development Agencies

A reliable website development agency in Ahmedabad provides a wide range of services tailored to meet diverse business needs:

Custom Website Development: Unique, feature-rich websites designed to suit your brand identity and audience.

E-commerce Solutions: Robust e-commerce platforms with secure payment gateways, inventory management, and user-friendly navigation.

Content Management Systems (CMS): Development using popular CMS platforms like WordPress, Joomla, or Drupal for easy content updates.

Responsive Web Design: Mobile-friendly websites optimized for seamless performance across devices.

Web Applications: Interactive web apps to engage users and streamline business operations.

SEO-Friendly Websites: Websites built with on-page SEO strategies to enhance visibility and rankings on search engines.

Maintenance and Support: Ongoing support to ensure your website remains updated, secure, and functional.

What Makes a Great Website Development Agency?

When choosing a website development agency in Ahmedabad, look for these essential qualities:

Experience and Expertise: Proven track record in delivering diverse web development projects.

Client-Centric Approach: Agencies that prioritize understanding your goals and offering tailored solutions.

Portfolio of Success: Check their portfolio to gauge creativity, technical expertise, and industry-specific knowledge.

Timely Delivery: Efficient project management and adherence to deadlines are crucial.

Post-Development Support: An agency should offer reliable maintenance and updates after project completion.

Top Website Development Trends in 2024

As technology evolves, modern website development agencies in Ahmedabad keep up with the latest trends, such as:

Progressive Web Apps (PWAs): Delivering app-like experiences on web browsers.

Voice Search Optimization: Websites optimized for voice commands to improve accessibility.

AI-Driven Development: Using artificial intelligence to personalize user experiences.

Dark Mode Design: Popular for enhancing user experience and reducing eye strain.

Motion UI: Engaging animations and transitions for better user interaction.

Why Partner with a Local Agency?

Choosing a local website development agency in Ahmedabad has its advantages:

Face-to-Face Collaboration: Enables better communication and understanding of project needs.

Understanding of Local Market: Insights into regional preferences and user behavior.

Quick Support: Easier to resolve issues and provide immediate support when required.

Adeves Media Private Limited: Your Trusted Website Development Partner

At Adeves Media Private Limited, we specialize in creating websites that not only look great but also deliver exceptional performance. With years of experience and a client-first approach, we have established ourselves as a leading website development agency in Ahmedabad.

Why Choose Adeves?

Expertise in building dynamic and scalable websites.

Customized solutions tailored to your business goals.

Skilled team proficient in the latest technologies.

Commitment to timely delivery and unparalleled support.

Conclusion

A well-developed website is more than just a digital presence—it’s a powerful tool that drives business success. Whether you’re a startup or an established enterprise, partnering with the right website development agency in Ahmedabad can transform your vision into reality. With its rich talent pool and innovative approach, Ahmedabad is undoubtedly the place to find your ideal digital partner.

For a website that truly reflects your brand’s essence, trust the experts at Adeves Media Private Limited. Contact us today to start your digital journey!