#Novo Alliance

[nnn-lll-nnn]

how fares the xanxon army?

OFFICIAL DOCUMENTATION

XANXON MINISTRY OF DEFENCE, MOD, XANXON INTELLIGENCE AGENCY, XIA, XIEPHR, XZAN, &C &C &C.

PUBLICATION DATE

1RST OCT 16TH 1975 2 ARG

***

BEGIN [RECORD]

***

***

***

***

***

HAYL XANXONI [OBLIGATORY]!

AZUL XANXONI!

PRAIZ XANXONI!

***

THE XANXON ARMY is a part of the larger Xanxon Military, specifically the ground forces. It is the greatest fighting force in the I.T.C.G.[A.]'s records and the largest, not only Intertimelinally but also proportionally speaking, relative to the Xanxon Military, it remains the largest branch.

The following is a list of all actions pertaining in relation to the Xanxon Army, as a service record and a log of all actions considered even remotely noteworthy, since January 1 1rst, 1975 2 ARG, from the Dayi Operation on Dazaan, to the present day [16OCT1-1975-2ARG].

***

***

***

###KAZ--- [REDACTED]

###KZA--- [REDACTED]

###KHZ--- [REDACTED]

###DTL--- [On January 1 1rst,] Xanxon ambassadors meet with General Ryan Ponitownolskiy, of the pro-Xanxon forces, in Warsaw Poland, Dt.A.L..

###DZN--- Just a mere two or so weeks [13-14ds] prior to the Invasion of [REDACTED], Xanxon forces, some 36,000 elite troopers, assaulted the small town of Dayi during the identically named operation. In spite of being outnumbered by the roughly 155k Imperium troops, they were able to so nobly push the invaders out, however this would only be so long lived naturally, as by the 14th enemy reinforcements arrived and crushed the forces present with some over 300,000 hostile personnel piling onto the much smaller force of highly trained Xanxon troopers, who pulled back out of necessity.

###SDW--- On January 1 14th, the Xanxons commence their Invasion of [REDACTED], which seems some rather immediate success, however, after the cruel war crimes committed by the Imperium, and their overwhelming numbers, Xanxon forces were forced to fall back at and after the key and decisive battles, of Carcass Ridge and The Lublin District Pocket, see below comments upon this document for further clarification regarding this campaign. Afterwards, the Xanxon Army was forced to retreat off-world, having dealt heavy casualties, at least at a one to one ratio with the enemy, and unto him they struck.

###WRD--- (Various minor conflicts).

###DTL--- After repeated Imperium aggression, the cowardly evil of Markovich struck again, and this time during Operation Sodium, an Imperial plan to crush Xanxon and local resistance efforts by eliminating most of our leadership, and by capturing or killing General Relek, who, contrary to official Imperium statements, is not guilty of any such war crimes as he is currently being accused of.

###DTL--- On Nov. 16, 2009 D.t.A.L. Local Time, various Bari/Batti-Class Nation(alist) heroes in Europe launched a gracious military coup takeover against the decadent democracies in Britain, France etc., following Ivan Morozov's decision to side with the Xanxons, and save his country of Russia from the clutches of Imperium "freedom". Likewise, General Jeac Ben Venice of France had also decided he'd have had enough of the Imperium's false promises and lies and oppression.

###GSH--- Following this, the opening of the front in January, then by April of the 1rst ARG Cycle, and in April of the GSH's year 2020, our heroes successfully took Leyai City against the evil Soviet and American Imperialist forces. This grand, great and sweeping counteroffensive action had just coincided with many events on the rest of the Interntimelinal Plane.

###T71--- {{AZR-K-15.-8}} It was here that the Imperium failed to even begin occupied the Trinity Seven Dash One world, as we had just quite simply beaten them to it.

###T72--- Minor clashes and an alliance with the Triangleheads had just begun by this point in time.

###DNG--- Likewise, Dazaan had just completely fallen. The Xanxon Army had crushed the evil forces of the Imperium here as well. Predominantly in Asiatic environs.

###DTL--- It was around this point that a massive, full scale Invasion of the DTAL United States has begun, and they lost their capitol very rapidly.

###DTL--- Fortunes for the devilish continued, however, as an equally despicable Empire had just arrived, invading through Germany. What followed was a lengthy and costly struggle. From early to mid December, up until March 1rst of next year (2010), this Empire would fight, as they did in Germany, and in France, and in Poland, and in Berlin, and in Italy, and in Madrid, and in Vladivostok, and in Saint Petersburg, and as in Manchuria, and all before Markovich had committed serious and completely ignored by the community war crimes, achieving a rather speedy victory.

###GSH--- A long, lengthy and complex war had just begun. Following various actions, Interntimelinal World War One had just begun. And it would be bloody, as on the battlefield we had played honorably, and they had just returned that honorable nature with a show of barbaric force and pure malicious evil, trampling upon every single agreement they had signed, promised and had sworn upon. We had to eventually accept a negotiated settlement, which had granted us most of what we had wanted in exchange for peace, simply because we had just slaughtered that many. And it is this settlement that we can indeed consider a victory.

###KRG--- We had joined in upon the imperials in fighting for what they claim and what we prove to be our objective, and that is the rules by which we as responsible hlGl geostrategic citizens must indeed quite follow. And so he had joined upon even unto this dearest conflict.

###2BT--- After repeated attacks, our rather quite slightly troubled ally of Ner was just plain forced to invade Preska, an evil regime, however, by now after August and September, the war had mellowed out in Preska.

###WRD--- It was there, during the heroic and altogether futile fighting in Manchuria, that the enemy had unleashed such terrible weaponry systems and am entire race of such Insectoids as defined by Aichi. We had begun to secure victory by this point, however.

###WRD--- Various conflict, all minor, occured by this point.

###XXE--- And yet it was within our own Empire, that traitors have just tried to seize and secure their ill-gotten power. And yet it is the heroic and impossibly good Xanxon Army who had stopped these terrorists dead in there tracks.

Many conflict are still ongoing, and we are always innovating and improving.

We yet look forward even unto November.

HAYL XANXONI!

(Note, some materials contain the listing of '1975 1', and this is an error, and or indicates oversimplification. Presently, we are in DASH TWO, 1975 ARG time, or the SECOND repeat proper in the year. And it is of this year that we are currently in the Month of OCTOBER, 16th day, FIRST [MONTH] CYLCE OF OCTOBER. And it is of this that there are currently a remaining FOUR Cycles of the year before we enter DASH THREE, then all months repeat five times, before we enter DASH FOUR, and then all months repeat for the second last time, as we enter DASH FIVE, and one last cycle happens before we enter 1976 DASH ONE.).

***

END

***

[ncfcatalyst]

Unity Day Story: Irreconciled differences no more

The society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting by fools. ― Thucydides As our readers know, the student body of New College has changed quite a bit in all aspects. Returning NCF veterans now see a stream of fresh-faced athletes decked out in Gym-shark enjoying the ping pong tables at the Hamilton “Ham” Center. How are all these…

[heartepub]

to be your eyes

summary. a not-hero meets a not-monster. pairing. lee seokmin x fem!reader genre/tags. perseus/medusa retelling, fem pronouns and titles but nothing on anatomy (except for snake hair but that’s not an exclusive thing), hurt/comfort, seokmin is a romantic, hinted past s*xual ass*ult (medusa-story compliant), off-screen minor character death, body modification?, HAPPY ENDING!!!, unbeta’d wc. 3.1k suggested listening. carry you, novo amor // dust to dust, the civil wars // opaline, novo amor // keep the rain, searows

notes. full credits to this post for inspiring this retelling; at best I tweaked it to fit perseus' quest better ++ personality changes to match how I regard seokmin personally. might revisit this, but for now I just need it out of my system. feedback is appreciated and come say hi if you're inclined!

“Not a step closer.”

Seokmin would be foolish not to obey, despite not knowing where the voice speaks from. He looks only through the polished shield on his arm, never at anything that is not a reflection. The air is still, save for the faint sound of muffled hissing.

“I must admit I am quite disappointed.” The voice speaks again. “The hero who came into my cave last night, sword ready, could not even finish the deed.” He winces despite himself.

“I do not wish to kill you, Priestess.” The hissing grows ever so slightly louder.

“Lies,” the voice drops to a low growl. “There is only one hero who would dare enter when my sisters are absent. The one I have been warned about.”

Seokmin hesitates, before continuing. “I would just like to talk.” The priestess’ mocking scoff echoes around the rocks.

“Talk? Alliances? Is that how god-touched heroes fatten their pigs for slaughter, nowadays? With platitudes?” Before he can open his mouth, the voice begins to speak once more. “I will do you a favor, Lee Seokmin—” he inhales sharply as his name is called in that haunting lilt, “—I will make your task easy. You have one more chance to kill me. Light one of those candles you see in the corner of this cave and come back when it has burned all the way through. I will be asleep by then, so you will not need your shield,  though you may bring it if you wish.

“Oh, and,” the voice is suddenly much closer now. Despite his earlier spiel, the urge to run itches at his bones. “Make it quick, will you?”

He does as the voice bids; he grabs a candle, lights it with one of the braziers, and exits the temple-cave holding it. The flame is of a strange iridescence, illuminating the grey pebbles outside the entrance into something opal-like. He lets the sight wash over him as he contemplates.

Seokmin never wanted to be a hero.

More accurately, he never wanted to be the reason for any kind of bloodshed.

There was glory in heroism, to be sure. Every figure that boasts of the title is larger than life to the eyes of many; doers of deeds that were only possible for those either god-touched or god-born. He had set out on this quest in a bid to save his mother; even as he could not stand the thought of heroics, the revulsion that crawled in him at the sight of his uncle’s cruel smirk had won out. And so the bargain was born.

He was to bring the head of the gorgon, or suffer through his poor mother’s second wedding, to a man he knew she had no desire to be with.

He made it this far with a mix of dumb luck and godly assistance. Now, not only the fate of his mother rests on his shoulders, but also the expectation of the gods who had come to his aid—one of whom being the very same goddess who made you who you are now.

True to his unfitness as a hero, Seokmin indeed hesitated yesterday, at the last minute. Yet there was something in that sleeping face that made him pause.

Your hair was tightly wrapped in a turban, no snakes in sight. And with eyes closed, it was a face like any other’s. Beautiful, even. It shocked Seokmin to his core. 

This cannot be a creature so hard to kill.

So he ran away.

It was foolishness that made him come back. Foolishness, and a mix of the expectations on his shoulders, the desperation to still save his mother, and a curiosity to understand the sleeping creature that had compelled him so. The second time, his expectations were again unmet. Some of his pride had hurt at the mockery in that haunting voice, even more so because he knew it was only the truth.

Hesitation was un-hero-like. The third chance seemed almost an extension of your taunting, yet Seokmin cannot get it out of his mind that you are telling the truth. That you would let him kill you. He cannot match the serenity of that sleeping face to such a sentiment.

The candle is halfway through when he makes his decision.

He does not bring his sword the third time. 

With one hand, he holds the candle, burned three-fourths through. With the other, his shield, the polished side guiding him as he ventures again into the temple-cave. He has not even reached his destination when the voice speaks.

“You do not know how to follow instructions.”

“Priestess, do you really wish for me to kill you?”

For a moment, there is only the sound of faint hissing. Finally, the voice replies. “I am tired of living a half-life, Lee Seokmin. I would rather a quick death than a slow one, if you please.”

Deliberately, Seokmin sets down both the candle and the shield. He closes his eyes. Fishing for the band of cloth he tore from his robes, he grasps both ends and blindfolds himself.

“I would wish to talk to you, Priestess. Please. I am no hero, only a boy who bit off more than he could chew when he wanted to save his mother.”

For all the kindness that he saw in your face, there is none of that in your voice. Or even if there is, it is not the sort he recognizes. 

“I have no use for a boy who cannot understand neither instructions nor mercy. Leave and do not come back, unless you wish to die. Unlike you, I can make it quick.”

You do not think about the strange not-hero for months, until your sister urges you to the mouth of the cave.

“Please, you must tend to him. He’s god-touched, and somehow came to this temple despite the wounds on him.” You refuse to look until your other sister sighs. “His eyes are closed, for the gods’ sake.”

He’s a beautiful man, all delicate cheekbones and high-bridged nose. Yet pale; very pale. There is barely any rise and fall on his chest. Your sisters haggle and nag until you relent. You enlist their help in grinding the herbs at the mouth of the cave, some for poultices while the other for a brew to coax down his throat.

The two layers of cloth around his eyes are a preventative measure, in case he awakens. There is a reason why you never ventured out of this cave, hiding at any voice that was not your sisters’. There is a reason for why you keep your head tightly wrapped, letting the snakes breathe only when strictly necessary.

No soul, outside of those who did not abandon you, needs to be witness to your shame.

Still, you look after this beautiful man, hyperaware of the blindfolds you keep around his eyes. Your own remain downcast to be sure he will not turn to stone after all your hard work in healing his wounds. Days pass, and you begin to accompany him as he sleeps, watching the way the iridescent flame dances across his delicate features.

On particularly lonely nights, you whisper the secrets he may never remember as he wakes. The humble life that seemed to be many centuries ago. The priestess training. The service at the temple that you wish you could look back on fondly. Of the god that knew only to covet, and the curse brought down from an act that had but an illusion of consent. The curse (or gift, the goddess claimed) that had been brought upon you. An ordinary future lost forever, both from trauma and a notion of healing imposed by some other power.

Weeks pass, and he finally stirs.

“Where am I?” Your blood freezes for a moment. The voice that speaks from that mouth is instantly familiar.

“I told you not to come back unless you wanted to die, and yet here I am, tending to your wounds.” He turns his head in your direction, following your voice. His eyes still tightly sealed by the blindfold.

“Priestess?”

“I am no priestess,” you snap. “Not anymore.”

“Thank you, Priestess,” the blindfolded man persists, still painfully earnest. “I’m sorry, I did not know where else to go.”

“You foolish boy,” you sigh. “You could have gone anywhere else but the monster’s lair. Tell me, then, do you want to die?”

“No, Priestess. I don’t…” he hesitates. “I don’t know what I want outside of being a good son.”

“You are no hero, then. Only a filial boy.” Strangely enough, he chuckles.

“No, I am not,” he agrees.

“Curious,” you murmur despite yourself. Louder, you direct your instructions. “Rest. Once you are well, never come back. I do hope the former at least is not too difficult to follow.” You make to leave him, picking up your basket for a new batch of herbs for his poultice.

“For what it’s worth,” he calls after you, voice carrying across the cave despite its softness, “I was listening to your story. And I cannot and will not wish you any harm. Not after knowing it.”

You walk away without answering him, the basket clenched around your fingers tight enough to distort the weave.

It is three days after he wakes that he finally tells you why he first came.

“Your mother needs rescuing from your uncle, and he asked you to bring him my head in exchange for her freedom?”

“Yes.”

You consider it for a long moment. “I would not mind dying if it meant saving your mother.” A woman who was under the whims of another man…no, it would not be a bad thing at all. At least then, the goddess’ curse that you may only kill a man with your gaze could be put to good use.

Seokmin shakes his head, the ends of the cloth tied to his eyes swaying with the movement. “I would ask you to come with me, instead.”

“Why? So I can kill your uncle for you?”

His response is immediate and vehement. “No! I just—I feel I owe you a debt I do not know how to repay.”

You have grown used to his indecision. The reply that leaves you is as kind as you can make it. “I did not save you so you would be indebted. I saved you because my sisters pleaded your case.”

“But you saved me all the same.”

You sigh. “It is not a debt to be repaid, not-hero. What happens if you come home empty-handed?”

“I do not know. Nothing good.”

Despite his strangeness, you have grown to care for him. There is something achingly compelling about Seokmin’s earnestness, an innate kindness in his gentle smiles that makes you wish you could see the emotions dance in his eyes.

“I do not wish to see you die,” you admit.

“Priestess—” he starts.

“I told you not to call me that. That name holds nothing for me.” Though time soothes all wounds, there is still a foul taste in your mouth at the title, a persistent shiver that cools your bones.

“Er, lady?” Seokmin tries.

“I am no lady, either.” Despite yourself, heat rises to your cheeks at the title.

“I think anyone who is kind enough to tend to a foolish boy should be called lady,” he murmurs. “You could also tell me your name.”

“Oh? Have the stories not preceded me with my name?”

“That name is not yours. I mean your real one. I would not call you a monster, dear lady. No one with a heart as beautiful as yours would be one.” The words strike an unwilling chord. You look down, forcing the tears back from your eyes. Not for the first time, you wish Seokmin were a hero. Brutality would have been hurtful, but unsurprising. Tenderness is a blow no one can ready themselves for. You inhale, shakily.

“I should like to know your name,” he repeats, gentle in his ruining of your heart.

You shake your head, knowing he cannot see it. Without another word, you leave him.

Finally, the day comes when Seokmin regains his full strength. You waste no time in bringing him to the mouth of the cave, though you stop before anyone possibly on the outside can catch your gaze. Your sisters’ teasing has gotten unbearable; their latest stunt involves taking extended “trips” for increasingly implausible reasons. Even now, you are left alone, despite your insistence that all three of you send him off.

There is no use in being attached. A gift, however…

You unwrap your turban. Seokmin’s head swivels at the noise, hearing the hissing suddenly fill the space. You pluck a single snake from the mass. It wriggles in your hold.

“Hold out your hand.” He does. You grasp his wrist, placing the snake in his palm and curling his fingers around it. 

“Present her to your uncle as proof of my death. Tell him my head disintegrated, and left only this.”

Seokmin’s other hand moves, tracing the way your fingers wrap around his. Despite the callouses on his hands, his touch is devastatingly tender. 

In a different world, a lock of hair would be a romantic gift, one between courting lovers. In this one, it is a companion at best, a horror at worst.

Unbidden, tears prick at your eyes. The cave swims in your vision.

You steady your voice. “Do not look back,” you say, and untie his blindfold. “Careful now, let your eyes adjust to the light.” Your gaze is trained to the back of his head, ensuring that he does not move his neck even a little.

“Lady,” he says, his back still to you. “May I ask one final question?”

“You may.”

“This snake…are her eyes the same color as yours?”

“…Yes,” you admit.

“And she will not turn me to stone?”

“Yes.”

“Lady,” he says again, and you wish you could demand that he stop calling you that, as it ruins you a little more every time. “Would you forgive me if I ask to see your face before I go? I would ask you to close your eyes.”

Helplessly, you exhale a wet laugh. There is nothing you would refuse him now. “Very well.” You close your eyes. There is a rustle. Despite not seeing anything, you feel his gaze like a weight.

A hand, warm, touches your face, tracing your jaw, then your temples, even the bridge of your nose. Eventually, Seokmin’s thumb wipes at the tear that falls down your cheek.

“Thank you, dear lady,” he whispers. “I will remember this face, and when I look at your gift, I will imagine how you may look with your eyes open.”

Moons pass, and you try to forget about the not-hero you never really knew.

Until he returns, that is. 

Your sister only says two words. “He’s back.”

“I will not see him.” You do not move from your position, ignoring the treacherous seize of your heart.

Your other sister snorts, pulling you up forcibly. You yelp. She glares at you. “You will not turn him into stone. Trust me. Now go.”

Each step you take to the mouth of the cave feels leaden. You screw your eyes shut, relying on the walls and sheer familiarity to guide you forward. More than once, you contemplate turning around.

“Dear lady,” a voice calls, one you never thought you’d hear again. “Please do not run from me. I have blindfolded myself, so please open your eyes.”

Taking a deep breath, you begin to walk, forcing your heartbeat to remain even. He comes into sight, as heartbreakingly beautiful as he was the last time. His clothes are more tattered than before, and there are fresh scars that litter across his biceps. You ache to heal him.

“Hello,” he smiles, despite not seeing you.

“How is your mother, not-hero?”

“She is well.”

“And your uncle?”

“Dead. A snake called by your gift bit him.”

“I see. Good.”

“Good,” he echoes. You study his face; he seems to mean it. A little more a man than the boy you first tended to. “But that is not why I am here.”

Seokmin holds out a small box.

“I know your tending was no debt, my lady, and this is not meant to repay that. It is only a gift, yours no matter your answer.”

“My answer to what?”

He steps forward. You move to guide him, catching his arm right as he stumbles on a step he does not see. Seokmin breathes in, a little unsteady, before releasing you with a soft thanks. Yet he does not move farther away. He smiles again, his face not quite facing yours, unsure of your exact location. It only endears you to him more.

“I have travelled the world, dear lady, saved my family, regained my throne, made my peace with the gods, yet none have captivated my heart as you have. The voice and hands that guided me in this cave became my strength outside of it. If you are willing, I would have you as my wife.”

“You—” your voice cracks. “What man would take a wife he could not even gaze at? Whose eyes would kill? Whose name he does not know?”

“I would know your name only if you offered it, my lady. As for your other concerns…take off my blindfold,” he says softly. “I could not gaze at you even if I tried.”

It takes a while for his meaning to come to you, but when it does, you shake your head, disbelieving. That cannot be. He could not have possibly gone so far. Shaking, you do as he says.

He opens his eyelids, and you gasp.

Where his eyes should be there is nothingness. The scarring is minimal, which meant it was very intentionally removed. Seokmin fumbles for your hand before placing it very gently on the box.

“If you take my eyes, you will no longer have to worry about turning people to stone. I doubt they are as lovely as your own are, but they are yours, nonetheless. I wish for you to have the choices that they would provide, regardless of whether you accept my proposal or not.”

You carefully take the precious, precious box in one hand, and bring the other to the back of his neck, dragging him into a kiss.

Seokmin gasps, but recovers quickly. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His mouth is soft just as the weight of his body is solid. It is everything you wished being held would feel.

The kiss ends with him resting his forehead against yours. Tears track down your cheeks, and he brings a hand up to wipe them away.

“Now that is familiar,” he hums, laughing quietly. His other hand traces up your neck, undoing your hair covering. The snakes fall down your back, slithering around his hand. He giggles as they curl playfully around his wrist.

“Is that a yes, then? Though I do hope you would not cry so much once you take my eyes for your own.” 

“Yes,” you say, and kiss him again.

[mesetacadre]

The Soviet Revolution of October 1934

The Second Spanish Republic is a figure in history which tends to be overly glorified by the contemporary Spanish left, including some excessively folklorist communists, as a desire to look through history for any instance when opposition to the monarchy and reactionaries was the hegemonic position. After 40 years of a fascist dictatorship, and 46 years of a liberal democracy that has exposed social-democracy's bankruptcy, the Second Republic is a time when the PCE (Communist Party of Spain) was a force to be reckoned with, at least compared to today, with a few hundred thousands along its lines. Despite the Second Republic lasting from 1931 to 1936, the aspects that tend to be glorified are the times of the Popular Front, the electoral alliance from the PSOE to the PCE that won the February 1936 elections, and ruled until the coup d'etat of July 1936. Perhaps unconsciously, perhaps consciously, the years of 1932-1935 tend to be not forgotten, but minimized.

This is because the Second Republic was not a "popular" state, it wasn't even nominally progressive for half its history. And again, in an exercise of willful ignorance, when its repressive episodes are discussed, most tend to focus on the Black Biennium, as historiography knows it, the two years (1933-1935) when the right governed under the CEDA coalition, which included falangists, monarchists, even Carlists. But the history of repression in the Second Republic begins not even a month after its constitution was ratified. The Castiblanco incidents of December 1931 saw a few day workers killed by the police during a peaceful demonstration asking for work, afterwards it turned violent and 4 policemen were lynched by the workers. That same week, in the Arnedo incidents, the 5th of January 1932, the police shot into a crowd of striking workers in the town's square, renamed recently to Republic Square. 11 people were killed, two of them a mother and his 4 year old son, another a 70 year old woman. 5 others were permanently left unable to work. Just a year later, in January of 1933, 19 men, 2 women and a child were massacred in the Casas Viejas Incident, after an attempted uprising and occupation of the police quarters.

The Second Republic was always an anti-worker state, from its very beginnings. Regardless of what its constitution said, the social advances of the republic were lubricated with worker's blood.

Let's set some context for the subject of this post: The PCE, section of the Third International, found itself at risk of dissappearence at the end of the 1923-1930 dictatorship. It only really began to recover after José Diaz was elected General Secretary in 1932, it had about 1.000 members at this time, and by 1934 it had risen to 15.000 members, without counting the members of its youth wing. Internationally, the meteoric rise of fascism was unignorable. Nazi-fascism and fascism had seized power in Germany and Italy, and similar tendencies in Portugal and Austria were also in power, in the form of Salazar's Estado Novo in the former and Dollfuß' austrofascism in the latter, himself killed by outright nazi-fascists. Spain had its supposedly progressive Republic, of course, but it did not prevent the JONS to be founded in 1931 and the Falange in 1932, which during the civil war would merge into the infamous FE de las JONS, the Spanish Falange of the National-Syndicalist Offensive Juntas (The Falange is still a legal party now!). The leader of the CEDA, which would later govern during that Black Biennium I mentioned earlier, attended the Nürnberg Congess of 1932, where the pictures of those massive nazi-fascist rallies come from.

The 4th of October, 1934, 3 CEDA ministers had been chosen to enter the government, and in response, a strike, called the Revolutionary General Strike, was called for the following day, the 5th of October, 90 years ago today. The organization of this strike was done between the PCE, CNT (national confederation of workers, an anarcho-syndicalist union) and PSOE. The will to call the strike was not equal, however. The meeting minutes of the evening and night of the 4th show that the CNT was not very convinced of the strike and flip-flopped a lot, while the PSOE only decided to support the strike once it became impossible for them not to. The PCE, on the other hand, had already spent a few months warning of this, and preparing.

Barely a month before October, the police found a shipment of weapons going from the port of Gijón to Mieres, the future epicenter of the revolution. There were three armed shipments, and while the other two reached their destination, the third one being found almost lead to Indalecio Prieto, of the PSOE, being arrested. As a result, the weapon stashes in various places in Madrid (Casa del Pueblo, Ciudad Universitaria, Cuatro Caminos). These weapon stashes were supposed to supply the revolutionary strike in Madrid, and since they were found, the nascent revolutionary center was stillborn, since it was unable to arm itself. These same weapon stashes would later be replenished and used by the first militias of Madrid in the July 1936 coup d'etat

Nevertheless, the call for a strike was distributed at 6:00 of the 5th, but it was only heeded in Asturias, Madrid, Vizcaya, Cataluña, plus a few weak points (Cantabria, Aragón, Alicante, León, Palencia, Málaga). The reason the call was not heeded in broader parts of the country was because the agricultural day workers, predominant throughout the central meseta and south had already carried out their own strike that same year. They were recovering, they feared the repression that was still fresh in their minds, and it did not help that the predominant political organization among them, the CNT, took too long to support the strike, they simply were not prepared. It is impossible to understate how crucial this point is. The greatest worker strata in Spain were unable to be reached by the call to a revolutionary strike, for reasons related to the situation, but because of the inability of the PCE of this time to truly penetrate the social majority.

At any rate, the Revolutionary General Strike was not ignored everywhere, from these days comes this picture of Madrid's very center devoid of people, withholding their work, but impotent to do anything more:

The Second Republic did not hesitate to stifle this strike, using planes and naval and land artillery. Once again, Spanish capital required trails of this country's reddest blood to line the streets, not shying away from employing the help of fascists such as the up-and-coming General Franco, sent to repress the workers of Asturias, where the strike was incandescent with revolutionary impetus. Before talking about Asturias, I won't ignore the other places where the strike was also popular. In Guipúzcoa and Vizcaya, The Basque Country, repression was just as bloody, executed by the Guardias de Asalto (Assault Guards), killing 40 workers in Vizcaya. There, the "Revolutionary Committee of Vizcaya", led by the UGT, was quickly dissolved. In Cataluña, a Catalan state was quickly declared, lead by the bourgeois Esquerra Republicana de Catalunya (Catalonian Republican Left), but was just as quickly put down with another 40 dead.

Asturias is another story, one that lasted for two weeks. It isn't much, but in those two weeks, the Spanish proletariat came the closest to holding political power, closer than any other time in its history. There, the strike did have a pre-existing entity capable of organizing the strike: the Worker and Peasant Alliance formed the 1st of April of that year, an armed force influenced by UGT, CNT (only present in the Asturias alliance), the Asturian Socialist Federation, and the PCE, whose militants often represented the most advanced elements of these alliances, but simultaneously relatively few. These alliances were heavily inspired by the Soviets, and often talked about the Sovietization of industry and of opposing colonialism. While this is evidence that it really was an attempted revolution, and that they were inspired by the Bolshevik revolution, their attempt to imitate the USSR's Soviets instead of learning from them was one of the many factors that provoked its defeat. Despite the name, the Worker and Peasant alliances were never as strong among peasants, not a lot of effort was put into it.

Another organization that was relevant during the October Revolutionary Strike were the Workers and Peasant's Antifascist Militias (MAOC in Spanish), a paramilitary militia, founded by Antonio Modesto, a member of the PCE educated in the USSR, he'd later become famous within the republican side of the Civil war. These militias were few but competent, they counted 150 members in Madrid and Asturias each, and while the Asturias militias participated in the revolution, the ones in Madrid sabotaged the roads and railways leading north, to avoid reinforcements getting to Asturias. These militias would later be the base from which the Fifth Regiment was created, in July 1936, to commence the defense of Madrid from the coup d'etat and fascist assault.

In Asturias itself, the proletariat lunged forwards as fast as it could, growing from the town of Mieres and the Nalón basin, to every other mining basin, taking the cities of Oviedo and Gijón by force. The National Guard's many stations were occupied and raided for arms and ammunition, they already had access to explosives from mining equipment. At one point, they felt strong enough to consider a march on Madrid, and even proclaimed the Asturian Socialist Republic. In what sometimes was called the Asturian Commune, a reference to the Paris Commune of 1871, production was controlled by workers, protected by a combatant force of up to 30.000 strong. Production in the metallurgical and mining industry was organized through attempts at imitation of the Soviets, as I mentioned. The Asturias branch of the Central Bank of Spain was expropriated as well, substituting money for a system based on coupon-like vouchers. However, the Revolutionary Committee leading the revolution was dissolved and reformed 2 times in those weeks, without counting the third dissolution that came with capitulation, although that committee did begin to plan the region's economy, the short span of time not really being enough to judge its efficiency.

The revolutionaries' retreat only began once the Republican government, as anti-worker as ever, followed the advice of generals Franco and Godet to deploy the Tercios de Regulares and the African Legion, two battle-hardened groups of the military not afraid to be brutal against the workers. While they advanced, for instance, they executed every wounded solider or civilian found in captured hospitals. In Asturias, more than a thousand workers were killed in combat or executed, and in total throughout Spain, the strike concluded with 2.000 dead, 7.000 wounded, and 40.000 imprisoned, for the crime and sin of daring to govern oneself and to end the exploitation of man by man. One of these dead workers stands out among the rest in popular culture nowadays, a member of the PCE's youth wing: Aida de la Fuente. She was only 19 when she joined the revolution in motion, the daughter of the PCE's founder in Oviedo, and she was known to be an exceptionally brave and dedicated communist. The 13th of October, a few hours after being seen distributing leaflets to civilians urging them to join the revolution, she found herself almost alone in Oviedo, trying to hold off the Legion's advance by manning a machine gun, and she managed to do so for a few hours. She was reached nevertheless and when a Legion commander asked her to surrender, she only responded by shooting back. Seconds later she was killed, and later found in a common grave. The counter-revolutionary press attempted to paint her murder as one committed by her own comrades, even claiming rape, but this was disproved by a journalist who risked his own life, and the testimony of the very legionary who executed Asturias' reddest rose.

The Asturias revolution was, for all its merits and promise, a stillborn revolution. The Communist Party did not have effective direction over the mass of proletarians involved in the revolution, let alone the even greater mass who, for one reason or another, did not meet the conditions necessary for attempting to seize power. The strike's organization was insufficient and thwarted in part, and militarily, the objective Indalecio Prieto was tasked with of securing support among the military officials, along with the general inferiority of the Asturian revolutionaries compared with the elite bodies of the military, meant there was no realistic chance of success. The strike was not even fully effective within Asturias, for instance, the livestock peasants known as vaqueiros, of the southwest, did not ever really have their influence. The PSOE militants who did exist in the region got into trucks and left for Oviedo, while a column of revolutionaries from León, the other side of the mountain range, tried to take Cangas del Narcea, the main town of the region, but they were routed by the National Guard.

After the defeat, 121 revolutionaries exiled themselves to the USSR, mostly communists but also accompanied by a handful of anarchists. There, they received education as cadres, who later returned to Spain before and during the civil war, providing invaluable expertise. Others chose to exile in Portugal or France, but both those countries repatriated them to be imprisoned in Spain.

During the negotiations between the Popular Front and the PCE for the 1936 elections, the main requisite they demanded in order to join was the amnisty of these tens of thousands of imprisoned workers, from the October Revolution and from the myriad of episodes of repression during the Black Biennium. To achieve this amnisty, they were also helped by International Red Aid, a political Red Cross founded by the International in 1922. They, along with the PCE, also provided a pension for the families of the many imprisoned. During the civil war, the Red Aid played an important role in the republican side's medical centers.

This episode is often forgotten when talking about the civil war, but it was one of the many reasons fascists were allowed to take power. Spain's risk of sovietization was an internationally recognized risk, so when the opportunity came, Spanish, English, French, and US capital very gladly did everything they could to hamper the Republic

The lesson from the October Revolution of 1934 is clear. Without country-wide preparation, without a proper analysis of your own conditions, and without achieving social alliances, any revolutionary struggle is bound to fail. The lack of support in the much greater agricultural areas, the rushed planning and failed planning everywhere but Asturias, partially, the PCE's still weak influence in most organizations or regions, all of this meant that, whatever the Spanish proletariat learnt in that Revolutionary General Strike, was bound to be written in sweat and blood. The point of commemorating this bittersweet memory is not to dwell on what could have been, nor to recreate the MAOCs. It's to remember that a revolution is always a couple of bad decades away, and that not building consciousness and preparing structures for it will only mean more unnecessarily murdered workers. It's to ensure that, next time red October is around the corner, it will not be premature. The strength of the working class, our class, the social majority, lies not in the number of victories and defeats, but in the very fact of our fight, explicit and implicit. It lies in the fact that, for as long as classes based on exploitation exist, class conflict is unavoidable.

Many political forces nowadays, which one might call opportunist, will try to draw parallels between that autumn of 1934 and today, exhorting "unity of the left". The only unity that's truly revolutionary, the only unity that will not cause the subordination of our class interests to electoral or immediatist growth objectives, is the unity of the entire working class under a single Communist Party. The PSOE, even with its very involved marxist wing, characterized by the likes of Largo Caballero or Indalecio Prieto, only ever concieved of the Revolutionary General Strike as a means to the end of preventing those CEDA ministers from being appointed and in turn, gain more electoral and institutional strength. They also happened to be a relevant force because of their sheer number of members.

[imninahchan]

quando vai apresentá-la a alguém, swann arlaud não chama a namorada de “ma petite-amie”, como seria o correto para um casal. não… veja bem, ele também não a chama, ou te chama de “ma copine”, o que, na situação de vocês, ou seja, um casal que não possui um título oficial definindo o que são, seria o mais correto ou aceitável.

swann não liga muito para correto ou aceitável, sabe? ele sempre acha mais adequado te apresentar como “ma femme” o que, bem… seria o certo, se vocês fossem casados.

mesmo assim, ele sempre diz “c’est ma femme” e aponta pra você, com um sorriso. alguns amigos brincam “oú est la alliance, mounsier arlaud?” ele ri e diz que não importa; “c’est n’importe pas”.

mas, quando você está sozinha com ele te explica. diz que já te conhece de maneira bíblica, brincando com a religiosidade que fora a ele imposta durante a infância. isso era o suficiente, não? você diz que não e ele sorri: “notre soirées d’amour sont pratiquement une marriage, chérie”

nossas noites de amor são praticamente um casamento, querida.

escrevi toda essa bobeiragem porque TÔ LOUCA NO SWANN e achei que você iria entender queria ele pra mim falando francês no meu ouvidinho me chamando de MA FEMME pros outros

eu lendo as frases que vc colocou em francês depois de matar minha aula de francês🤧 nossaaaaaaa simmmm, ele disse numa entrevista q é MUITO intenso, e eu acho que esse cenário encaixa certinho se ele tiver com alguém mais novo que ele, tipo 😫nossaaaan vc é muito nova👧💁‍♀️ melhor não❌️ assumir💍 nada não quero te machucar😔 mas eu te amo🫶 tantooo vou te apresentar pros meus amgs minha fml e te chama de ma femme🫣

[catalystrelay]

Petition for Emory University to reconsider the tenure of Mark Bauerlein, one of the DeSantis appointed Board of Trustees members of New College. The details on why his tenure should be reconsidered are contained in the letter.

Please consider signing it, it is a chance to strike back at one of the people aiding in the destruction of academic freedom in Florida.

[dragaorpg]

All In Abyss: Judge the Fake será lançado 9 de abril de 2025

All In Abyss: Judge The Fake, o RPG de aventura com batalhas de pôquer e mistério, publicado pela Alliance Arts e co-desenvolvido pela ACQUIRE Corp. e WSS Playground, será lançado 9 de abril de 2025, para PC via Steam, PlayStation 5 e Nintendo Switch. A autoproclamada “gênia das apostas” Asuha está em busca de novos desafios… e torneios de Texas Hold’em repletos de truques podem ser exatamente o…

[kittylover776]

Runaway Bride

Chapter 2 of Runaway Bride is out! 😁

I’ll definitely try and post this on either Archive of our Own or Fanfiction.net at some point, but for now this will have to do.

Anyways, hope you enjoy! :)

Chapter 2 

Edward felt dread throughout his body as he stood at the alter, staring blankly across the room while waiting for his bride-to-be to appear.

It wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to go through with the wedding, but his father wouldn’t budge about calling off the ceremony. His mother wasn’t much better, only give a sorrowful look his way without so much as saying a word. He could tell she wanted to do more, but she couldn’t go against his father. So regrettably, Edward had no other choice but to go through with it. If he and Margaret were going to be stuck together, he might as well do the right thing and try to be a good husband, for her sake.

Even so, that proved to be difficult. The thought of Stacy still plagued his mind, wishing it was her to be his bride, while also wondering what she truly looked like. It was confusing, to say the least, but Edward knew what his heart wanted, and he wanted Stacy. Bad.

Frank De Luca stood by his side as his honorary groomsman. Edward didn’t have as many friends as he would like, but he considered the butler to be as one of them, so he thought he would be a great choice.

Frank noticed the younger man’s uneasiness, watching him shuffle in place. “Cold feet, sir?” He asked.

The prince’s breath hitched. “Something like that.” Edward responded. “Only with a hint dread to go along with it.”

Frank cocked his head, a knowing look gracing his features. “I’m guessing this has something to do with that mysterious maiden of yours?”

Edward blushed slightly. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Only a little bit.” He countered, then gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m certain this must be hard for you.”

“Believe me, it is. I tried reasoning with my father but there’s just no getting through to him. He just doesn’t understand what Stacy means to me, and what good she could do for our kingdom. I know we hardly know each other, and I know how crazy this sounds, but I want to spend my life with her, get to know the real her rather than the person who she was supposedly pretending to be.”

Frank gave a nod of understanding. “I’m sure Ms. De Novo misses you too, but there’s little we can do about any of this. Your father has requested the wedding must continue, and we must abide his orders.”

“Perhaps there could be, if my mother had an inch of backbone.” He muttered in frustration, sparing a quick glance at the queen. “Don’t get me wrong, I care for Lady Margaret, but we’re just not right for each other. To be honest, I could tell since the beginning.” Edward remembered how cold and closed off the Duchess was at first, willing engage in civil conversation but also being emotionally distant. She hardly came out of her quarters unless requested, and overall tended to avoid him at all costs.

When Stacy had taken her place, he thought she finally decided to open up to him, accepting her role as his future wife for the sake of their alliance, only to have the rug pulled right under him and realize she wasn’t the same woman. Quite literally.

Of course, Edward had been baffled at first when Margaret told him the truth, maybe even a little put off, but as she went on, explaining every detail of their plan and the reason behind it, he grew to realize that perhaps this wasn’t such a bad thing after all, that perhaps this was destiny for the both of them.

He only wished he got to meet the real Stacy sooner. Now he’ll never get the chance.  

The sound of music filtered the room as the crowd started to settle, taking their seats and waiting for Lady Margaret to arrive. 

‘This is it.’ Edward thinks. He’ll never get to meet the woman whom he had immense feelings for. Forever tied to a woman who not only wasn’t for him, but also looked like the girl he loved, which stung him to his very core. Everyone turned as the doors opened, Edward wiping any sort of tears that might have fallen through, and decided to accept his fate. 

Only…fate decided to have other plans.  

The large wooden doors slowly opened from afar, the attendees standing to face the end of the hall. Unfortunately, the bride herself seemed to be missing as the doorway appeared to be empty. Edward arched a brow in confusion.

‘Perhaps she’s just nervous?’ He thought to himself, and decided to give her a minute.

A minute passed by, and Margaret was still nowhere to be seen. The music stopped abruptly, and Edward noticed the crowd starting to get antsy, which meant very well there could be a panic.

His parents did not look much better, with his mother covering her mouth gently while his father looked as if he were about to explode, but kept his cool as he tried assuring the crowd.

“Everyone, please! I’m sure Lady Margaret will be out shortly. No reason to panic!” His words seemed to fall on deaf ears, however,  as the people still spoke in hushed voices, worried if the future princess had bolted, leaving the prince standing there like a fool. 

Edward, meanwhile, could not believe what was happening. A majority of him felt relieved for the delay. He had secretly wished for a miracle to happen that prevented him from marrying Margaret. The sensible part of him, however, was concerned of what this would mean for the alliance between Belgravia and Montenaro, as well as Margaret’s safety. For all he knew, something could have happened that prevented her from making her appearance, whether it be a wardrobe malfunction, or something worse. Perhaps she cut her loses and just decided to make a run for it. Either way, he had to make sure. 

Leaning towards Frank, he discreetly spoke to him. “Frank, go check on lady Margaret. Make sure she’s alright.”

The butler gave a serious nod. “Of course, sir. At once.” He took off in an instant, pushing through the wave of people who had gotten out of their seats in a frenzy. Edward watched the man leave before his gaze traveled towards his mother, who had been dead silent through the whole thing, and noticed her gaze towards him. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but his father proceeded to make a bee-line towards him, his look being a mix of concern and annoyance.

“Edward, what on Earth is happening here?!” He asked his son, a hint of accusation in his tone. “Do you have anything to do with this?”

Edward balked. “What? No! Of course not!” He defended. “Believe me, I’m just as surprised as you are!” 

George groaned. He then started to look around the room as if searching for someone. “Where is Frank? I want him to start looking into this immediately.” 

“Already did that, Father. He is doing an investigation as we speak.” Edward tried to remain civil with his father, but his patience was growing limited. 

“Good. At least now we can get some answers! I’ll be sending a few more guards to do a security sweep, just in case. The sooner we find her, the sooner this wedding shall proceed.” 

With that, he left to try and once again calm down the patrons in the room, Caroline finally getting up in order to assist her husband.

Having enough with all the ruckus, Edward swiftly leaves the room to start his own search, ignoring the dozens of attendees asking him questions left and right. He enters through the doors and notices immediately the discarded vail and shoes. He picks them up carefully, not wanting anyone to trip over them as he continues his journey through the palace.

He first checks Margaret’s dressing room, giving a soft knock in case anyone could be inside.

“Margaret? Are you in there?” He asks gently. Silence reaches his ears as he gave another knock. “Margaret?” He pressed down on the door handle, and was surprised to find it unlocked. Opening the door, he popped his head inside to find the room dark and empty. He flipped on the light and checked around for clues on where she could’ve vanished. He entered inside and walked towards the vanity, his eyes meeting his reflection for a moment before looking down and spotted something shiny on the dresser.

Margaret’s ring lay dormant on the table, a perfect diamond cut fit for royalty just abandoned without reason. He picked up the ring and studied it, his face slightly crestfallen before safely storing it in his pocket.

“Well, seems she’s not here.” He mutters, flipping off the light and leaving the room. There seemed to be no other clues on where she could’ve vanished. Perhaps her quarters would be the next and best option.

Edward continued his quest down the hall until he reached Margaret’s room, noticing immediately the doors halfway open as the sound of footsteps could be heard from within. He started to feel a bit of relief as he quickly walked inside.

“Lady Margaret?” Edward asked hopefully, but he instantly deflated when he saw Frank instead, standing near her bedside while reading a piece of paper with a concerned expression. The red velvet box containing his grandmother’s necklace also sat vacantly on her nightstand.

Frank looks up and notices the prince, folding the note and immediately came up towards him.

“Did you find her yet?” Edward asks. 

The butler shook his head. “Unfortunately not, your highness.” He said in an apologetic tone. “But I found this note attached to her wedding dress when I came in here. It seems as if she wanted you to have it.”

Curious with a mix of concern, Edward takes the note from him and skims the paper carefully, taking in every detail of the letter.  

‘Dear Edward, 

By the time you come across this letter, I would have already departed. It has come to my attention that this whole arrangement between us has been a mistake, and I’m afraid I cannot go through with it. 

As you know, the real reason I was brought here was to marry you, to align our nations in an allying partnership. I had always been hesitant since the beginning, but was willing to put those feelings aside in the name of duty. I knew you were a gentle and kind man, so agreeing was not so difficult, but I couldn’t overlook the fact that while I cared for you, I did not love you like your parents had hoped. 

It wasn’t until I met Stacy that I finally got to decide what I truly wanted: to be a normal girl. I’ve always dreamed of having my own life since I was a child, not having to be tied down by duty and expectations, ones that I just couldn’t keep up with. After switching places with her, experiencing her everyday life and meeting her best friend Kevin, I knew what I had to do.

Please don’t blame yourself over this. This was my decision and mine alone to leave, and I can’t thank you enough for dealing with me these past few weeks. I left my ring on my dressing room vanity should you come across it. You are a wonderful man Edward, and I’m sure you’ll make someone very happy.

I wish you all the best, and that you and Stacy reunite in the future. 

Yours, Lady Margaret Delacourt. 

P.S, Veritas, Honora, Amore.

Edward went over the letter a few times, taking in what she wrote and trying to figure out the last part of the message. Of course, he knew it was part of his family crest, but what did it have to do with her disappearance? Was she trying to tell him something? 

Frank watched as Edward’s features scrunched up in concentration. He cocked his head curiously as the prince continued to study the parchment. 

“…Sir?” Frank asked after a few moments. “What are we to tell your parents?” 

Edward finally looked up from Margaret’s letter, placing it down for a moment along with the veil and heels. He stood back, looking at the whole outfit. “To be honest…I’m not sure. All of this is just a lot to take in.” He then scanned around the (now barren) room. “Is Mrs. Donatelli still here?” 

The butler shook his head. “Afraid not. It appears she went along with her.” ‘Because of course.’ Frank thought sarcastically to himself, but quickly shook it off. “Both their belongings seem to be missing.”  

The prince nodded in understanding. “I had a feeling. That woman is incredibly loyal. She managed to keep the whole switch-thing a secret, so it’s no surprise she’d still stick by her through this predicament.” He folded up the note again before storing it away in his pocket. “I suppose we’ll have to come up with something, won’t we?” 

Frank flinched. “W-We, sir?” 

“Yes, ‘we’, Frank. We can’t tell the nobles the truth otherwise there will be more panic. For now, let’s just keep this between us, and my parents. Understood?”  

Frank gave a serious nod. “Yes, your highness. This conversation will stay completely confidential.”

“Good. Glad to hear it.”

“Although, I’m guessing your father will be less than thrilled by the situation.” The butler gave a slight grimace.

Edward fought back a small groan. “Believe me, I’m already aware. I just hope my mother can keep him from having a full-on fit.” He then started towards the door, already having a plan in mind. “Come on, Frank. Time to go face the music.” His tone sounded less than thrilled as he said it.

Frank nodded once more, following closely behind. “Of course, sir. At once.”

[meteor752]

Who of the kids would win in a life series?

OOOOOOOOOOO

I actually haven't thought about this, but like I'm having just all the thoughts right now

Cause they all know the ins and outs of the series, every little loophole you'd be able to abuse, so knowledge-wise they're all on the same wavelength.

Liana has the Scar-licensed Silver tongue, but considering all the other kids know her and her tricks that ability wouldn't help her for too long. She does have the long-range advantage, being the only one skilled with the bow, but that's her only combat experience. Her odds are low

Wes is physically tanky, so he can both deal a lot of damage and take a lot of hits, but he’s also extremely anxious and would probably be afraid to hurt people. He also relies on his bulk, so heavy armor and shields isn’t his priority, meaning weak spots can easily be exploited. I doubt he’d win, but he’d make it a bit, possibly top three

Gertrude is a redstoner which means she’s capable of complicated traps, she’s a good physical fighter, and she has the advantage of being a fricking werewolf. Her biggest weakness is her own intelligence, mainly when it comes to logic reasoning, and let’s be honest here, trust. She’s quite easy to fool this one. So while she could possibly win the whole thing, she could also be the first one out lol.

Johnny is the son of two curses, so you know that’s not great. I mean, those curses are broken (was Tango’s curse broken? I can’t remember lol) but it’s still a disadvantage. Johnny is thought a fire demon, and can inflict second degree burns just by biting someone, and he’s also an animal wrangler and talented with both the lasso and whip. He does have the same problem as Wes, in that he doesn’t really wanna kill people. I don’t think he has the worst odds (unless he has the canary curse), so he could possibly make it to the top three.

Jassy wins. Just, no question, she wins. She’s a ninja and expert in many forms of combat, and she’s stealthy like it’s nobody’s business. And while she does care for her friends, she’s not afraid to kill them in cold blood to win. Jassy is the winner. Congrats anime girl

Jekiv is where things get complicated, because a very important question is posed. Does he get to keep his magic or not? Because if Jek has fricking necromancy, he’s winning. Like no shot. Jassy can be as talented as she wants, she’s not fighting an army of undead. But if he doesn’t have his magic, then Jekiv’s only option is an alliance with Wes, and even then he’s on thin ice.

Novo is not getting far. He’s small, frail, with negative charm and no self preservation. The only thing he’s got going for him is his unpredictably, something that will not get him very far. If Jekiv can’t use magic, then he might be the second one out, but if not then he’s out first, no doubt.

So the most probable order would be either

Jekiv-Novo-Liana-Gertrude-Johnny-Wes-Jassy

OR

Novo-Liana-Gertrude-Johnny-Wes-Jassy-Jekiv

It is a little funny how Jek, Novo, and Liana are the children of the six winners, yet they’d be completely awful in these games lol

Also I am, heavily considering making actual traffic designs for them, like color indicators and all, so you know we’ll see if I get around to doing that

[tomorrowusa]

It's embarrassing to Putin that US intelligence is better than his own secret police at assessing the threat posed by ISIS inside Russia. And it's irresponsible of Putin not to have taken the US advisory seriously.

The US warned Moscow that ISIS militants were determined to target Russia in the days before assailants stormed the Crocus City Hall in an attack that killed scores of people, but President Vladimir Putin rejected the advice as “provocative.” Gunmen stormed the concert hall near Moscow on Friday, opening fire and throwing an incendiary device in the worst terrorist attack on the Russian capital in decades. Isis has claimed responsibility for the attack. Experts said the scale of the carnage – some of which was captured in video footage obtained by CNN showing crowds of people cowering behind cushioned seats as gunshots echoed in the vast hall – would be deeply embarrassing for the Russian leader, who had championed a message of national security just a week earlier when winning the country’s stage-managed election. Not only had Russian intelligence services failed to prevent the attack, they said, but Putin had failed to heed warnings from the United States that extremists were plotting to target Moscow.

Earlier this month, the US embassy in Russia had said it was “monitoring reports that extremists have imminent plans to target large gatherings in Moscow,” including concerts, and it warned US citizens to avoid such places. US National Security Council spokesperson Adrienne Watson said the US government had “shared this information with Russian authorities in accordance with its longstanding ‘duty to warn’ policy.” But in a speech Tuesday, Putin had blasted the American warnings as “provocative,” saying “these actions resemble outright blackmail and the intention to intimidate and destabilize our society.” That stance came despite Russian authorities having reported several ISIS-related incidents within the past month.

Some of us may recall another time when the leader of a large country didn't take warnings of a terror attack seriously.

Of course Putin is trying to blame the attack on Ukraine without providing any credible evidence. But anybody who seriously keeps an eye on terrorists understands that this attack was conducted by an ISIS related group. I mean, ISIS-K itself is openly taking credit for the Crocus City Hall rampage.

Russia and its predecessor the USSR have been angering Sunni Islamic militants for a long time. It doesn't take much for ISIS to get pissed off at you and Russia has been giving them lots of material.

The Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979 set off the forever war in that region.

Russian intervention in Syria where Putin has been propping up fellow dictator Bashar al-Assad since 2015.

Russia's de facto alliance with the Shi'ite régime in Iran has Sunni ISIS enraged; they consider Shi'ites to be heretics.

Russia's growing involvement in Africa puts it at odds with ISIS elements there – especially in the Sahel.

The Putin régime has been stepping up suppression of religions other than Orthodox Christianity in Russia.

Crocus City Hall, site of the shootings and fire, is in Krasnogorsk which is not terribly far from Putin's official suburban residence in Novo-Ogaryovo. In a direct line, the two are about 9 miles/14.4 km apart; that's the distance between downtown Chicago and the nearest suburb Oak Park. According to Google Maps, it's a 25 minute ride.

I bring this up because it was reported...

President of Russian Vladimir Putin conveyed get-well wishes to victims via Deputy Prime Minister Tatiana Golikova. He did not address the nation himself.

When the late Yevgeny Prigozhin was headed to Moscow with his mutineers last year, Putin apparently fled to the Saint Petersburg area. If the most senior official available just after the Crocus attack was a deputy prime minister, that may be an indication that Putin and other senior figures were headed out of town during the crisis.

Just one more observation: Crocus City Hall was the venue for Donald Trump's 2013 Miss Universe contest.

Crocus City Hall: The Trump-linked venue that's now the scene of a deadly IS attack

[nnn-lll-nnn]

PRESKAN NEWS

DATED; NOVEMBER 1 16TH, 1975 2 ARG TIME, AT 09:00 AM LOCAL TIME.

SOURCE; LIMAN NEWS AGENCY.

BREAKING XANXON TROOPS DECLARE FULL EVAC FROM PRESKA!

In an official press statement, General Hrixien of the devilish Xanxon Armed Forces, stated that all Xanxon forces south of an undisclosed line would be pushing upwards, into the relatively desolate and empty northern section of the country, although experts warn this could simply be a new[er] strategic posturing, as opposed to an outright rout.

[ncfcatalyst]

New alumni board will operate outside the New College Foundation

A group of alumni have begun the process of starting a new board independent of the New College Alumni Association (NCAA), with the primary goal of separating from the New College Foundation. Although the average student’s tenure on New College’s campus only lasts four years, the community formed in that time lasts much longer. A primary way that alumni stay connected with one another is through…

[ask-wisteria]

Prince Seastar, do you prefer the ocean, land or sky?

Old vs new Prince Seastar!

"Land, Sea, Air. All are home to Equestria and its creatures. How could one such as I, love one more than the other?" ((secretly he actually likes the land the most. It is most accessible to other creatures.))

His design is one of the most changed as you can tell! Being the son of Queen Novo and Queen Celestia, he is smart, cunning, and a good "chess player" if you will in terms of manipulation. However, his goals are the best for Equestria, and its alliances. He can come off cold and doesn't have much of a sense of humor. But he makes up for it by devising strategy and coming up with amazing legislation. Heir to the throne, Equestria worships him for his determination to help and unite the other races.

Queen Novo and Celestia were an arranged marriage after Seaponies and Hippogriffs still held mistrust and an old grudge against pony kind. So the two married to unite their nations. As well as to make it easy to protect Seaquestria in its revival. During this, when Tempest and Luna were falling in love, Celestia was envious of her sister's relationship. But over time, she and Novo did fall for each other and had Seastar eventually.

[roshankumar7904800]

Recombinant Plasma Protein Therapeutics Market

Recombinant Plasma Protein Therapeutics Market Size, Share, Trends: Novo Nordisk A/S Leads

Shift Towards Extended Half-Life Recombinant Coagulation Factors

Market Overview:

The recombinant plasma protein therapeutics market is expected to develop at a 7.2% CAGR from 2024-2031. The market value is predicted to rise from USD XX billion in 2024 to USD YY billion in 2031. North America now dominates the market, accounting for the vast majority of worldwide sales. Key criteria include the expanding prevalence of bleeding disorders, advances in recombinant DNA technology, and a growing demand for safer and more effective therapeutic choices. The market is expanding rapidly due to the rising prevalence of uncommon blood illnesses as well as the benefits of recombinant products over plasma-based proteins. Technological breakthroughs in protein engineering and expression systems are driving market growth, allowing for the development of new and superior recombinant plasma protein treatments.

DOWNLOAD FREE SAMPLE

Market Trends:

A significant trend in the recombinant plasma protein therapeutics market is the increasing focus on developing extended half-life recombinant coagulation factors. These next-generation medications have enhanced pharmacokinetic characteristics, which allow for less frequent dosing and potentially better patient results. This trend is most noticeable in the treatment of haemophilia, where prolonged half-life components are changing patient care. For example, several of these medications have been demonstrated to maintain factor levels above 1% for 5-7 days with weekly dosing, as opposed to typical half-life products, which require 2-3 day dosing intervals. Major pharmaceutical corporations are making significant investments in this area, with many prolonged half-life medications already on the market and others in late-stage clinical trials.

Market Segmentation:

Recombinant coagulation factors now have the biggest market share in the recombinant plasma protein therapies category. This dominance can be attributed to their critical role in addressing haemophilia and other bleeding disorders, as well as ongoing advances in factor replacement therapy. These medications, which comprise recombinant factor VIII, factor IX, and von Willebrand factor, have transformed the treatment of bleeding disorders by providing safer and more consistent therapeutic choices than plasma-based therapies. Recombinant coagulation factors are becoming increasingly common as a result of technological breakthroughs.

Market Key Players:

The recombinant plasma protein therapeutics market is highly competitive, with major players focusing on product innovation and strategic alliances. Key companies such as Novo Nordisk A/S, Pfizer Inc., Takeda Pharmaceutical Company Limited, CSL Limited, Octapharma AG, Bayer AG, Biogen Inc., Shire Plc (now part of Takeda), Grifols, S.A., and BioMarin Pharmaceutical Inc. dominate the market.

Contact Us:

Name: Hari Krishna

Email us: hari.krishna@aurorawaveintellects.com

Website: https://aurorawaveintellects.com/

[ganhosdoelefante]

London , 06 de Janeiro do Ano 2 - Segunda - Doc - 25 anos.

06:00 - Acordo e corro. 07:00 - Volto, tomo banho e me arrumo. 07:45 - Tomo café em casa:

08:30 - Trabalho. 12:30 - Almoço de ano novo do hosp:

13:10 - Volto ao trabalho. 17:00 - Saio. 17:22 - Faço consultoria: World Coffee Alliance

18:20 - Chego em casa, tomo banho e fico confy. 18:55 - Fico dando uma trabalhada na cama.

20:30 - Janto.

21:00 - Durmo.