#Probably committed crimes to obtain this

[celinin-archive]

Celestino Vietti during the Italian GP (01.06.2024)

©Gold & Goose / Red Bull Content Pool

[fullmoonfireball]

please know that whenever i reblog images of rats i am fantasizing about illegal activities (owning a rat)

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

M.I.A. - Paper Planes 2008

"Paper Planes" is a song by British hip hop artist M.I.A. It was released on 11 February 2008 as the third single from her second studio album, Kala (2007). It samples English rockband the Clash's 1982 song "Straight to Hell", leading to its members being credited as co-writers. A downtempo alternative hip hop, pop track combining African folk music elements, the song has a less dance-oriented sound compared to other songs on the album. Its lyrics, inspired by M.I.A.'s own problems obtaining a visa to work in the USA, satirise American perceptions of immigrants from war-torn countries, and said that the issue was probably "them thinking that I might to [sic] fly a plane into the Trade Center".

M.I.A. had wanted to work with American producer Timbaland for the album Kala, but her application for a long-term US work visa was rejected. This was allegedly due to her family's connection to the Tamil guerrillas, commonly known as the Tamil Tigers, a claim M.I.A. denied. Her visa problems were also attributed to her criticism of the Sri Lankan government's discrimination and alleged atrocities committed against the Tamils, with whom M.I.A. shares an ethnic and cultural heritage. She expressed this on her politicised debut album Arular. The unexpected success of "Paper Planes" paralleled M.I.A.'s condemnations of the Sri Lankan government's war crimes against the Tamils, generating accusations that she supported terrorism.

The song received widespread acclaim from contemporary critics, who complimented its musical direction and the subversive, unconventional subject matter. It won awards from the Canadian Independent Music Awards and the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers (ASCAP), and earned a Grammy nomination for Record of the Year. The song has received praise in publications such as NME, Pitchfork and Rolling Stone, each naming it among either the best songs of the 2000s decade or of all time. The review aggregator Acclaimed Music reports it as the second-most acclaimed song of the 21st century.

"Paper Planes" was used in the theatrical trailer for the 2008 stoner comedy Pineapple Express, directed by David Gordon Green, which catapulted the song to mainstream success in the US. "Paper Planes" and the DFA remix appear on the soundtrack to Danny Boyle's drama Slumdog Millionaire, released in 2008. The video game Far Cry 3 (2012) begins with "Paper Planes" used in the opening cinematic sequence.

"Paper Planes" received a total of 68,9% yes votes!

[fruity-mond]

We don't talk enough how Kaeya literally just. Appeared.

Thinking about how Kaeya literally has NO legal documents. So like, logically, Crepus had to forge some stuff. Where is he from? Who knows but his birthday is on Nov30- don't fact check that.

Since Kaeya was abandoned, it does actually qualify him for the Late Birth Registration law in most places, and it probably makes it a lot easier that they're in the city of freedom but STILL, Crepus having to fill that up is so funny to me because he is STRUGGLING.

This kid is seven and the only way they knew his age was bc of some wacko they met on the way to Liyue for a family trip, who was high as a kite, being like "oh ya I'm a licensed pediatrician that is a SEVEN YEAR OLD" and threw up right after. And that was all they had to go off of bc Kaeya was near meltdowns at any mentions of medical testing (he's scared they'll figure out who he actually is, but comes to the realization that there's nothing to match him to)

This kid doesn't even remember his BIRTHDAY. Crepus and Diluc literally had to assign him one. Dude, he is JUST mastering Mondstadtian, he's still stuttering. How do you expect this kid to remember if he's gotten his mandatory baby shots? And he shouldn't be expected to!! HE'S SEVEN.

Crepus, filling out the forms with Kaeya on his lap:

"Kaeya, do you know your blood type?- Wait have you gotten vaccinated?"

"…Huh"

"Archons is this why you're ill 89% of the time"

Eventually, Kaeya agrees for a medical check up bc they genuinely need info on him to fill in his legal meds reports and good fucking lord HOW is this kid SURVIVING. Why is he deficient in 9 different vitamins?? Do we even HAVE 9 different vitamins to be deficient in?? So he ends up in the cathedral for like. A solid 3 months. A month where he literally couldn't leave and 2 where he's in and out for tests and check-ups.

(Turns out he IS seven but alchemy can only go so far so still no concrete birthday)

Crepus is pacing front and back, cursing Kaeya's stupid family.

Not for leaving him, no, Crepus actually feels slightly guilty that he's grateful they left him bc it gave the Ragnvindrs a wonderful new son.

No he's cursing them bc could they really not have made it easier by leaving his STUPID birth certificate and medical records with him? If you wanna abandon him, fine! MAKE IT EASIER FOR THE PERSON TO TAKE HIM IN. GOD.

Diluc and Kaeya was NOT aware of their father's anguish lmao Diluc kept sneaking in with a bunch of trinkets and books to make sure Kaeya isn't bored. Him, Jean, Kaeya and Thoma play Uno on Kaeya's medical bed

(No one is winning but Diluc is DEFINITELY losing. Kaeya has 6 wins, Jean 5, Thoma 5, and Diluc none. He nearly accidentally set Kaeya's cathedral bedsheet on fire after his 12th loss)

At some point, Crepus just starts making shit up bc dude he just wants to take this kid in please. The kid seems to know as much abt himself as Crepus knows of him, so he's no help

(and that's not his fault but come on these documents need filling)

HE JUST WANTS TO TAKE HIM HOME AND ENROLL HIM IN CLASSES WITHOUT THE KNIGHTS BEING ON HIS ASS FOR TECHNICAL KIDNAPPING.

He tells Adelinde this in a rant once:

"You forged legal documents."

"I mean, technically? Most of them were true and obtained by legal means"

"…most of them."

"Okay lets be honest right now, Addie, this is probably the tamest crime you know I've committed"

Ragnvindr Family ily (Also I'm a firm believer that Thoma was a frequent friend in Jean, Kaeya, and Diluc's schemes)

[lurochar]

Little Abomination

That... thing was separate yet still a part of him. It was how Alastor even became aware of your existence to begin with. You were his. You just didn't know it yet. Alastor x Reader (sorta) + Catlastor

Warnings? - You call Catlastor ‘Little Red’. Reader sorta has a backstory.

–-------

“Settle down now.”

His shadow chittered with excitement and restlessness as it fluttered from building to building, moving along ahead of him like an enthusiastic child who possessed no manners whatsoever.

Well, he supposed his shadow was just mirroring what he truly felt deep down that he certainly could not display publicly, so he could let it slide for now.

After all, he had been watching for seven years and now that he was back, he could finally come and claim what was rightfully his.

You, that is.

Not that you even knew it yet.

Well, how could you? You had only just recently woken up in Hell shortly after he disappeared, probably only hearing of the ‘Radio Demon’ through rumours and gossip, if you even bothered to pay attention at all.

You had more important things to worry about than missing Overlords, such as surviving the brutal environment of Hell with your small and frankly pathetic build.

Yet survive you did.

Sure, you didn't have the rich and opulent lifestyles that Overlords such as himself could easily obtain through power or wealth.

In fact, you had absolutely nothing but the clothes on your back and even those were stolen with a skill that was practiced far too much.

He did believe you probably had done so often enough in your mortal life that you had no choice but to do so.

And in the seven years he had been watching you, stealing was the only crime you committed.

If that was the reason you were sent down to the burning pits of fiery Hell to suffer for your ‘sins’, well, clearly Heaven was nothing but a fucking joke.

No matter, he would get what he wanted and if Heaven made a blunder, it was his gain.

Of course, there was the pesky obstacle standing in his way, the reason he even knew of your existence to begin with.

Your little bodyguard.

That cat(?) creature-like thing that had become your companion and grew an affection for you simply because you showed the little abomination kindness again and again, over the wellbeing of your own health as you fed it the last scraps of your stolen food.

You foolish girl.

Did you really think that creature could not fend for itself? That it could not rip the limbs off whichever Sinner that it designated for dinner?

Who knows how many the little beast had already devoured for your protection? How many times you may have been killed if not for that cat stalking after you and pouncing on your would-be attackers before they could even hope to reach you? 

How your protector dragged those fools away out of your sight into the shadows, never allowing you to see just how gruesome Hell truly was?

You were a pretty little thing and many would be eager to snatch you up and ground your soul down until your light was snuffed out.

No, but him – he saw you for the pretty little gem you were, a pure indulgence that should not have been sent to the depths of Hell for such lowly crimes.

As for your little beastly companion, Alastor was not too sure what it was, but if he had to theorize, he would guess it was simply the remnants of flesh, fur, bone, and even bits of his antlers that he lost during his uprising and toppling of the previous Overlords during his first few years in Hell.

He supposed it just took years and years for the pieces of himself to slowly form into something (he would not say that creature resembled himself in any shape or form, it was a hideous little thing).

Despite it somehow growing its own consciousness, Alastor could still look through its eyes and it was then your fate was locked and sealed.

You were his.

Even that beast, separate yet still a part of him, already knew that and he did expect that you would come willingly now.

Wouldn't you?

–

You sighed.

“It's not much, I know.” You leaned back against the wall of the warehouse that served as your current ���home’, “But it's better than yesterday! That bakery is on to me, I think. I'll have to move on to something else.”

The cat stared at you, its chilling grin not creeping you out in the least (not anymore anyway). Its unblinking eyes didn't move away from you even as you placed two pieces of bread in front of it.

“C'mon, Little Red, don't let it go to waste!” You begged. You knew it wasn't exactly fond of food like baked goods and it usually took a good while for your companion to relent to your pleas, but it eventually would gobble down whatever you managed to scrounge for that day.

Something like meat was a luxury you definitely couldn't afford.

“See, it's not so bad?” You let out a forced laugh when your furry friend swallowed the two pieces of bread after unhinging its jaw in a manner that used to disturb you, “Yeah, I know it’s plain. I woulda went for the doughnuts, but that baker was eyeing me pretty hard.”

The cat’s tail wagged and it let out that strange staticky purr as it bumped its head against your leg and you let out a huff of amusement, feeling its odd protrusions poking you. You scratched behind its ear and you felt the critter literally vibrate under your hand.

It was a bizarre creature, but it proved it was the only one you could trust during your time in Hell thus far.

You had come across the little fellow only a month after you woke up in Hell and despite your shock and despair at your fate and the cat’s initial indifference to your presence, your stubborn insistence in giving it the meagre amount of food you stole, and were sometimes beat bloody for, had won it over in the end.

(If you only knew it had stalked you the entire time, intrigued by your absurd reasoning. It had thoroughly enjoyed consuming those who did lay their hands on you).

Its grin widened at the memory.

“Maybe I should try getting a job again?” You muttered out loud, sighing as you let out a breath, “Try to save up money, get an apartment.” It was a pleasant thought, but that required you to actually retain said job.

Your mortal life hadn’t been so great, with a drug-addicted mother and an absent father, it didn’t take much for both of you to end up on the streets and your mother dying of an overdose not long after.

It had been under the directive of your mother at first, stealing had become a second nature to you. Anything for her drugs when she was alive, but after she died, it had turned to necessities only. 

Food, clothes, money.

It was never a good idea to steal money though.

You had chosen the wrong person to steal a bit of cash from and got a bullet in the head for it, only to wake up in Hell for simply being born in shitty circumstances and having to do what you did to survive.

It sucked.

You had sorta lucked out where you spawned in Hell however, in a territory owned by an Overlord known as the ‘Radio Demon’. 

He had apparently cleaned up the area, turned it into a civil area compared to other territories owned by other Overlords, and the denizens of his territory behaved (whether out of fear or respect, probably both) like a polite society.

Even though the Radio Demon had not been seen or heard from for years now, the citizens of his territory still acted cordially (again, out of fear and respect) since no one wanted their soul to be ripped apart over a live broadcast whenever he decided to return.

Or angering Rosie, the Overlord who was supposedly looking after the Radio Demon’s territory in his absence.

Due to your past life, you retained bad habits and the few jobs you tried to uphold, your sticky fingers had gotten the better of you and you were fired for stealing, even though it was mostly just food.

You really didn’t want to find out if you could starve to death in Hell.

A paw lightly smacked your face and you jumped, startled out of your thoughts and you looked down to find your cat friend sitting in your lap, its grin as wide as usual, “Heh, just lost in my head, Little Red,” you patted its head, “wondering what kind of job I could even do?”

The cat’s ears twitched.

Your body stiffened unwittingly.

Static hummed in the air, growing louder by the second and you began to shake uncontrollably, feeling your heart pound against your chest as you struggled to your feet. “W-what’s that noise?” You barely noticed as the cat tumbled off your lap while you looked wildly around the warehouse.

A shadow streaking across the ground caught your eye.

“Fuck, what is that?” You tried to keep your eyes on the quick moving shadow, but it was just so fast and your panic was not helping nor was the dim light, “W-where did it go?”

You almost screamed when you felt cold hands grab your shoulders and a strange chittering sound and you blindly threw your arm out, hoping to at least hit whatever grabbed you.

Yeah, you were pathetically weak, but you still had claws and fangs like the majority of Sinners, so you would put up something of a fight.

You hit nothing as you stumbled, looking behind you to see nothing either before those same cold hands skimmed up your sides. You shrieked when you were literally lifted off the ground from under your arms and you found yourself looking at a shadowy figure with glowing eyes and a grin that eerily reminded you of your little cat companion.

You were speechless as the shadow seemed to chirp at you, shaking you with what seemed to be excitement(?), but before you could react to this alarming situation, you felt something wrap around your midsection and the shadow was literally ripped away from you and thrown across the warehouse. 

Shadows had mass?

You were placed on your feet and you looked down to see what was wrapped around you–was that a fucking tentacle?!– before you shakily glanced back up when the appendage released you.

What in Satan’s name?!

“Little Red?” You weakly asked, staring at your little cat friend, which now looked like an Eldritch Horror monster, complete with a drooling jaw at least half the size of its body and whipping tentacles sprouting from its back.

The shadow recovered with no damage and growled back, but stayed the distance as the two beings glared each other down.

What the fuck was going on!?

“Now now, didn’t I already tell you to settle down?”

You were trembling again at the sound of a voice – one that sounded like an old-timey radio host – “No.” Your eyes widened as you took a step back, “No.”

“Oh, but I’m afraid it is, my dear,” the tall figure arose from a void of black through the ground, “I’m quite honoured you know of me despite my disappearance for seven years.”

“I-I mean, who doesn’t?” You swallowed thickly, “a-are you here to kill me?” Would there even be a point putting up a fight against the Radio Demon? It might just piss him off more, “I’m sorry for stealing! I’ll… I’ll find a way to pay you back somehow!”

“Oh, dear me! You believe I care about a misdeed as petty as theft? Especially when it’s concerning your very survival? No no, Darling – I’m here for something far more important.” Alastor’s chilling smile widened when you looked at him with uncertain surprise.

“W-what does that mean?” You asked, flinching under his unwavering red gaze, “You have much more important things you could be doing, r-right?”

Alastor took a step forward, stopping when a tentacle slammed down in front of him only inches away. “I couldn’t expect any less,” he eyed the drooling cat, amused with its warning to stay back, “You are a part of me, after all.”

“I’m sorry, what!?”

“In a sense, I suppose you could call this… thing a familiar that split off from me. And it chose you, my dear, because it was drawn to your soul,” Alastor’s proceeding smile almost split his face, “Now tell me, why do you think I am here?”

“No, no. Nope, nope!” You shook your head, clutching your chest protectively, “I’m not giving you my soul. Y-you’re just going to have to kill me!”

There was a yowl and snarl and the Eldritch cat and Alastor’s shadow were suddenly encased in some sort of black barrier glowing with green symbols with a slam of his cane and you would have fallen to the ground in surprise when Alastor appeared abruptly in front of you, only avoiding it when he gripped one side of your face and forced you to look at him.

“It would be a waste to take your soul. No, I want you complete and whole, my dear girl. In either case, the result would be the same. One is simply instant gratification. I am a patient man, I have no need to use force for my desired outcome.” He released you and you took several steps back, certainly glad to see the manic glee in his red eyes fade ever so slightly, “I have come here with an offer. No deals.”

“What’s… that?” You asked hesitantly, unsure if he was trying to trick you.

“Princess Morningstar has just announced a ridiculous plan, a hotel to redeem Sinners, in hopes they will be allowed into Heaven.” Alastor chuckled darkly at the utterly laughable idea, but he had plans and he needed the princess for them to come to fruition. “Even if it is a foolish endeavor that is bound for failure, surely staying at a hotel is better than this?”

You eyed him warily.

“My offer is that you simply come with me to this hotel. Why, I even heard what you said earlier, that you wanted a job?” Alastor’s grin was sleek when you looked at him sharply, “I’m sure the staff there will be quite lacking. Perhaps you can pay back what you stole?” It was a simple jest, but it seemed you took it seriously.

“Y-yes, maybe I can do it this time! Especially if this hotel wants to redeem us!” You said excitedly to yourself, not noticing the dark look in Alastor’s eyes at the idea of you ever being ‘redeemed’, “I’ll go as long as Little Red can too.”

“‘Little Red’?” Alastor repeated as his brow rose, glancing over to the barrier he had conjured to contain the two while he simply talked to you. There had been no need for a fight after all, “Ah, that… thing.” He slammed his cane against the ground and the barrier dissolved at once. “I am sure Princess Morningstar will allow it.”

He didn’t care for the creature himself, but it was your companion and he knew you would never leave it behind. Besides, the little abomination could act as your bodyguard when Alastor himself was out and about as he couldn’t stay near you 24/7.

“You okay, Little Red?” You approached the cat, noticing that it was back to its more normal form and its tail wagged when you picked it up gingerly, “I didn’t know you could do something like that! Tell a girl next time!” You giggled when it gave that staticky purr.

You heard the sound of a chitter and looked up to see the shadow practically leaping towards you and you flinched, closing your eyes and waited to be toppled to the ground. The cat vibrated in your arms in anger, hissing as its pupils turned into radio dials.

“Enough.”

The shadow immediately stopped, letting out a whimper as its ears dropped, giving you one last look before it disappeared behind Alastor.

“Well then, are you ready?” Alastor smirked, watching as you simply grabbed the cat, your only ‘possession’, and nodded, “Let us hope this was the break you were looking for, my dear.”

You were his.

And you seemed partially aware of it now.

[iceingms]

Whb iceberg.

We start from curiosities, data that we can realize at first sight and descend to the murky ones. I clarify that I will also attach non-canon theories.

• In hell, a hundred years have passed since Solomon disappeared, while, on earth, since 931 BC.

• Not only Solomon, but also God and Lilith.

• Satan has a barcode on his arm, and sleep with his eyes open.

• Death does not exist in Paradise Lost, because of Gamigin.

• Beel left Abyssos since Solomon's disappearance.

• Orias will never stop consuming souls. Youth is never eternal, and by obtaining Levi's soul, it would only stop it for a while.

• Satan has confirmed that he has lost his home.

• Angels can also be humanized.

(Theory)

• Ark Academy and whb are connected.

• Solomon also had to drink human semen to stay in hell.

• Demons are infertile. Except for kings, because they have enough power not to use Lilith.

• All six deadly sins are needed to defeat Lucifer.

• Demons and angels can change shape. It influence their emotions.

• Bael tries to be a copy of Beel. He must follow the shape-shifting, from hair dyeing to limb mutilation, because he made a deal.

• Minhyeok is no longer human. Due to Mc's deal with Satan, nothing can kill him while it is in effect.

(Theory)

• Gamigin and Serenade will never see each other again. Since they reside in different realities.

(Theory)

• Beel wants to eat Mc.

(Theory)

• Morax's skill. Absorbs wounds, even if they are fatal.

• Beel has eaten angels.

• Solomon can possess the bodies where his soul resides.

• In hell, crimes of all kinds can be committed, without being punished. This also applies in heaven.

• Bael's comic. He almost died for impersonating Beel. Still can't explain what happened.

• Solomon has all the filias. Even the most questionable ones.

• Angels have orgies.

• Christmas cards. It's sexual abuse.

• Leviathan is the first, and the one who has forced Mc the most to have sex.

• Beel has died thousands of times because of angels.

• Death lines. Canonically they die in battle.

• The Glassyalabolas filia.

• Solomon knows what happened to Lilith and God.

• Fruit of the tree of knowledge.

• God and Lilith are dead.

(Theory)

• The real Gamigin committed suicide.

• Ronove is going to take the fingers from Mc's corpse.

• Leviathan was going to end Solomon's lineage.

• Kamikaze angels.

• Jjok was abandoned in the forest to die.

• Buer, Morax and Marbas have died hundreds of times.

• Satan has anger problems that can kill Mc.

• Mammon and Valefor could kill Mc by accident if they apply the wrong force.

• Angelification is so painful that it breaks a demon's mind.

• Mc has a high probability of dying if ignores where may or not be in Paradise Lost. This implies that Lucifer can kill anyone with just a voice command.

• Demons were the first to experiment with angels.

• The massacres of the angels. This includes the demonic, angelic race and the near extinction of dragons.

• Andre's past. (He carried his twin's head for days.)

• The archangels will never get the punishment they deserve.

• Leviathan and Orias' constant abuse on the farm.

⛧✃✃✃⛧✁✁✁⛧✃✃✃⛧✁✁✁⛧

Does anyone else have any interesting or shady data?

It took me a day to gather information in my head, but that's it! I appreciate knowing that the shape-shifting is different, between angels, and Beel's camp.

Edit: Yeah, as soon as I realize my man is a walking red flag, it's confirmed that Levi baby never tries to have a forceful response from Mc, or tries to get her to ask him first.

[simply-ivanka]

Jack Smith’s Half-True Report

Publishing it makes a mockery of America’s adversarial system of criminal justice.

By Alan M. Dershowitz and Andrew Stein Wall Street Journal

The publication of special counsel Jack Smith’s report on his unsuccessful investigations of Donald Trump was lawful, but it shouldn’t be. It’s a fundamental violation of due process that undercuts our adversarial system of justice.

The pretrial role of prosecutors—special or ordinary—is to make a binary decision: to seek an indictment or not. If a grand jury hands up an indictment, the Sixth Amendment guarantees the defendant a jury trial at which he can confront witnesses against him and present exculpatory evidence.

Mr. Smith has no basis to declare that the evidence was sufficient to convict Mr. Trump. The standard for obtaining an indictment is probable cause, which means there is enough admissible evidence to lead a reasonable juror to believe a crime has been committed. Grand jurors aren’t in a position to judge the credibility of the prosecution witnesses since there is no cross-examination, and they don’t hear from defense witnesses or even know who they might be.

Mr. Trump can try to refute Mr. Smith’s conclusions by challenging their credibility and presenting contrary evidence. But Mr. Smith’s report bears the imprimatur of government, while Mr. Trump’s response doesn’t, even after he becomes president again. When charges aren’t brought or are dismissed before a trial, the defendant has no power to subpoena documents or witnesses in his own defense. And Mr. Trump gained access to the report at the same time as the rest of the public did, so that any detailed response will be delayed—during which time the public will digest Mr. Smith’s one-sided, specific report and Mr. Trump’s blanket denial.

Had this case been investigated by an ordinary federal prosecutor, there would be no published report. The same should hold true for special prosecutors. Any reports they write to the attorney general should be internal. That applies as well to Robert Hur’s report about Joe Biden’s handling of classified material, which also resulted in no indictment, and David Weiss’s report on Hunter Biden’s offenses, which resulted in indictments, guilty pleas and a pardon.

We favor transparency in government and don’t lightly oppose publication of a report. But defendants deserve protection here for the same reasons that grand-jury proceedings are almost always kept secret. Transparency must be balanced against other values, including fairness and privacy.

Since Mr. Smith’s report has been published, how should the media treat it? With the skepticism that rightly applies to half-truths. But many are acting as if it is a verdict produced by a fair and adversarial process.

The law should be changed to require any special-counsel report to be kept confidential. Alternatively, if it is to be published, the subject should be given the opportunity to challenge the prosecution’s case and to present his own, and the resulting report should reflect both sides. The current approach is partisan lawfare at its worst.

[beelzlikes]

Let me make this clear. Yes I was just threatening to kill myself not too long ago but I have something to say:

If you have a billion dollars? You probably deserve to die. There is NO possibility that you do not have massive blood on your hands. Anyone with anything close to a billion dollars is a psychopath, a murderer, and should give up their money or be put in jail for their many crimes they NEEDED to commit in order to obtain their wealth.

And we should keep them alive, actually. In jail. And every day, we remind them that they deserve to die, that they SHOULD be dead, but the society they tried to throttle in the crib will keep them alive for a long, long time, so you will have plenty of time to repent.

Am I saying it's a sin to be wealthy?

Yes.

[ysmtttty]

Again

Chapter 3 Read on AO3 or below || Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Lawyer AU where Eris and Nesta used to be rivals before she got married and decided to leave the field. But now she is divorced and determined to return to the legal field, even if it means working with Eris, not against him.

The case of Kallias progressed with great difficulty. Starting with the fact that absolutely everyone and everything tried to hinder them at every turn, and ending with the indifference they faced, as no one cared about some shelter. Nesta was seriously angry about this, not understanding how little empathy it took to have such an attitude.

However, just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, they did. It was a Tuesday when the situation with their case worsened significantly, given the looming deadlines and the approaching date of the first court hearing.

Nesta, out of habit, entered Eris’s office, intending to tell him what she had heard that morning. However, he met her with the same grim expression that made her think he had already heard what she was about to say.

"We need to talk," they said simultaneously before Eris gestured for her to speak first.

"The lab," Nesta said, expecting a nod or any other sign that Eris was aware, but he only looked at her puzzled. "There was a fire last night."

"Arson?" Eris frowned immediately.

"You think...?"

"It would explain their confidence during negotiations that we don’t have the analysis results. And most likely, we won’t get them."

Nesta had encountered something similar before. Yet even now, she felt unsettled by the lengths companies were willing to go just to save an extra dollar. The mere realization that a crime had been committed solely to avoid paying compensation made her feel sick. It brought both fear and anger.

The fire had destroyed the results of their independent inspection, which meant they would now have to move mountains to obtain them before the hearing. Considering how slowly their initial request was being processed, everything had become even more complicated.

Then Nesta noticed that Eris's face had grown even more tense, his hands nervously fidgeting with a familiar golden Parker pen, faster than usual.

"If you didn’t know about this, what did you want to talk about?" she frowned, realizing Eris was probably about to deliver more bad news.

"Nesta, sit down," he said in an overly gentle voice, adding to her tension. She cautiously took a seat in the chair across from him. Eris hesitated for a few seconds. "Last night, one of the children died from complications of the illness."

Eris explained something about a chronic disease that had worsened due to lead poisoning, but all she heard was ringing silence. White noise, completely blocking out all the sounds around her. Nesta didn’t know how she should react. Anger, regret, helplessness—these emotions rushed through her, clouding her reason. She was supposed to think about how this would change the case, their lawsuit, their legal strategy. She shouldn’t let emotions take over now.

For a moment, Nesta thought about what it would be like if her daughters were in the place of these children. If she had sent her kids to school without knowing that for months they had been exposed to chemical poisoning. If her daughters had been poisoned by lead. If...

Panic. She was seized by a wave of panic she couldn’t control. An endless stream of "what ifs" that wouldn’t stop. She seemed to be hyperventilating.

"Nesta," the familiar voice and hands on her shoulders brought her back. The voice, usually confident, arrogant, and smug, now sounded overly concerned and soft. "Breathe."

Eris frowned, breathing with her, helping her through the panic attack. His hands moved from her shoulders to her hands, gripping them tightly, grounding her. Eris watched her with a look full of concern, trying all the while to steady her breathing.

As soon as she regained her composure, she felt nothing but shame for allowing emotions to take over. She was supposed to remain detached. She had to control her reaction. She had to be a lawyer and nothing else while in this office.

"It won’t happen again," Nesta said quietly, trying to reassure Eris. "I can work on this case."

"Sorry," Eris said unexpectedly, instead of scolding or saying something else along those lines. He moved toward the dispenser and brought her a glass of water. "Sorry for not considering the details of the case earlier. I should have thought before asking you to take it on. You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to."

"I’m not weak," she said firmly, gripping the cup tightly in her hands. Her eyes gleamed with determination and unspoken frustration at seeming incapable yet again.

"I didn’t say that. But you don’t have to take on this case; it’s not the last one we’ll have, so..."

"I can work, Eris. I’m capable of it," she repeated. "I have to. And not only because I want to prove something but for those children."

"If you say so..." Eris sighed.

They didn’t talk for the rest of the day. Nesta desperately wanted to prove to herself and to him that she was capable. Eris gave her short glances, full of unspoken words, but he didn’t dare disturb her.

On Friday evening, they stayed late in the office. The hearing was set for Monday, and the soil analysis results had been anonymously sent to another lab with a request for expedited testing.

"We still need to conduct a full investigation into what happened at the lab," Nesta insisted.

Eris sat with a tired look, staring at his laptop screen, occasionally tapping a few keys, clearly in no hurry to finish whatever was open.

"There’s no evidence, not even much circumstantial proof. Our lawsuit will likely be dismissed from the start," he stated matter-of-factly. "You want revenge? Win the case and squeeze the maximum compensation out of those bastards that they can possibly afford."

The first hearing came sooner than they had hoped. Nesta, holding several folders, stood in the hallway while Eris did his best to pretend he wasn’t nervous at all. Despite all his persuasion, Nesta agreed to join as second lawyer, but today Eris would be the one speaking.

"Do everything like in the Gaber case, Vanserra," Nesta suddenly said, surprising both of them.

Eris looked up, a surprised expression on his face, and then, as if realizing what case she was referring to, he smirked.

"When I won the trial with almost zero chances?"

"Exactly, when you won with almost zero chances," Nesta nodded, leaving the folders on the windowsill and reaching for his tie to adjust it. "And when you absolutely infuriated me."

"You should’ve taken the lead as counsel," Eris smirked. "Your—what was his name?—assistant? Completely useless."

"That was my junior associate, and he just got nervous," Nesta rolled her eyes.

"Uh-huh."

"Don’t be an ass, Vanserra. I’m trying to support you," she grumbled, and Eris chuckled softly.

"If someone had told me before that Nesta Archeron would be supporting me, I wouldn’t have believed them," he smiled, taking the folders from the windowsill. "Will I get any other comforting gesture?"

"My presence here is already enough of a comfort gesture, don’t push it."

Eris smirked, ready to say something else, but they were called inside. The smile fell from his face, replaced by a serious, cold expression, and Nesta’s face mirrored the same severity, if not more.

Inside, Kallias was already waiting, having arrived in the courtroom. This was the first time Nesta had seen him in person; before this, Eris had handled all the meetings with him either outside the office or over the phone.

Nesta silently observed as the factory’s lawyers entered, all with serious faces and dirty looks aimed at Eris. The defendants took their seats, and the judge ordered everyone to stand as the court session began.

As Eris articulated his arguments clearly, each word was meticulously chosen, each sentence serving its purpose—they had spent all of Friday, and Eris likely the entire weekend, perfecting this speech—Nesta glanced toward the jury stand.

One of the women was definitely a mother; despite her attempt at maintaining a neutral expression, her face betrayed the empathy she felt for the affected children. Half of the jury might have been bought, but Nesta tried to push that thought aside.

"Your Honor, the prosecution has yet to prove that my clients were aware of the lead levels," the defense attorney stated when it was his turn to speak.

Eris glared at him, but the attorney ignored it, continuing his speech about how unaware his clients had been of the danger posed by their factory and how all sanitary inspections had shown everything was in order. Their defense could have been easily dismantled had they had the soil analysis results, which both they and the factory owners should have possessed.

"One must consider, Your Honor," the defense attorney continued. Nesta narrowed her eyes. This scoundrel was about to say something vile, and her instincts did not fail her. "That the owner of the shelter, Kallias Seaver, simply wants money and is therefore trying to blame my clients."

"Objection," Eris immediately interrupted, "speculation."

"Speculation or analysis of facts?" the attorney sneered, approaching the judge and handing her a folder with some papers. "Your Honor, before you are reports of Mr. Seaver’s debts to several companies working with his shelter."

Nesta sharply looked at Eris, and judging by his face, which displayed a storm of emotions beneath his impartial mask, he hadn’t known either. Kallias clenched his jaw, trying to burn a hole through the defense attorney with his glare.

After leaving the courtroom, the three of them walked to the parking lot. Nesta was about to ask Kallias something when Eris grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"What the hell?" he snapped. "Why didn’t you tell us?"

Kallias, to his credit, remained calm, moving Eris's hand away and straightening his shirt.

"You said we would win the case."

"That was before the judge and jury started thinking you just want to get rid of the debts."

Nesta stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Eris's shoulder. "Calm down. This is just the first hearing."

"Maybe the last," Eris muttered threateningly.

"Eris..." Kallias began.

"We're not dropping the case," Nesta reassured, though her voice carried the same grim tone. "If the shelter can afford to cover the legal fees, we're still in the game."

Aside from the lawyer fees, which Kallias didn’t need to pay in this case, the expert evaluations and legal proceedings were still a hefty sum. And judging by the debts presented in court, covering all of it was quite a challenge.

"I didn’t think it would matter," Kallias admitted quietly, running his hand through his hair yet again. "I didn’t think they’d find out."

"Of course, they could find out," Eris sighed, calmer now than he had been moments ago. "And they did. And we could’ve prevented them from using it this way."

"These aren’t those kinds of debts, Eris," Kallias said, sounding utterly defeated, as Nesta gave him a sympathetic glance. "Our main sponsors pulled out because they didn’t want to bear the costs of caring for sick children. A shelter isn’t something you can just close and forget because of a lack of budget. Food, clothes, even basic electricity, all of it is on credit. I’m not gambling away this money."

Eris sighed, rubbing his face, while he and Nesta pondered what to do next. Kallias should have told them sooner, or at least given them a warning so they could have been better prepared.

"Let’s wait for the soil test results," Nesta suggested in a calm and rational voice. "They’ll lose, and in any case, they’ll have to cover all our legal expenses."

"Before they do that, I’ll borrow some money," Eris said. "Any more unpleasant surprises we should know about?"

Kallias just shook his head. After saying goodbye, Eris and Nesta headed toward the car. Nesta kept glancing at him as they walked, seeing the same irritation, stemming from his frustration with himself. She could easily guess what thoughts were swirling in his head.

Why didn’t he find out on his own? Why didn’t he think about this? Why didn’t he say something more convincing in their defense in court? Why...

Eris opened the passenger door for her, then got into the driver’s seat. The next court hearing was in four days. There might be more, but they chose not to talk about it, as it would only mean things weren’t going smoothly for them.

"This isn’t the way to the office," Nesta noted.

Eris just shrugged. "We did what we could today. I suggest we rest and regroup. I’m taking you home, Archeron."

"If we’re not going to the office, then turn left here," she said. Eris raised an eyebrow slightly in surprise at her commanding tone but didn’t argue. Nesta smirked at the thought that over the years, he had probably just gotten smarter and realized that arguing with her was pointless.

"Where am I taking you?" he asked, turning on the blinker and waiting for the green light to make the turn.

"You'll see," Nesta answered mysteriously, deciding not to reveal her plans just yet. "We’re supposed to be taking a breather, right?"

Eris squinted at her but chuckled and drove on. Nesta gave him directions from time to time until she told him to park on one of the streets. Which Eris did.

"Good job. You’ve officially proven you can follow orders," she said with a sarcastic smile.

"For you, anything," Eris replied with equal sarcasm, taking out the key and unfastening his seatbelt. "Now, where are we?"

Nesta unfastened her seatbelt as well and stepped out of the car. Eris followed her, walking down a now-familiar street as he started paying more attention to his surroundings. Nesta remained silent until they reached a small café.

"I should’ve guessed we were heading here as soon as we turned into this neighborhood," Eris snorted, opening the door and letting her in.

"I’m the mother of two kids; you couldn’t expect me not to get hooked on sweets again," Nesta laughed, entering the café.

The place hadn’t changed much over the years. Some might have thought the small café should’ve closed down by now, given that it didn’t get as many customers compared to other places in the area. But Nesta knew the owners received anonymous charitable donations from time to time to keep the business afloat. She herself had participated in such anonymous contributions a few times.

"They still make the best chocolate cake here," she smiled, sitting down at a free table. Eris chuckled softly and sat across from her.

"I doubt chocolate cake will help me stop worrying about our already messed-up first hearing, but I’ll trust the process," he said.

"Someone’s forgotten the rules," Nesta reminded him.

"No talking about work inside," Eris rolled his eyes.

It was a ridiculous rule they came up with a long time ago. They’d found this café during their first legal internship. It was in one of the buildings in this area, which made this café the first place they ate at. After that, Nesta fell in love with the place, and Eris just tagged along because they often had to work extra hours beyond the official ones.

On the first day of their internship, Nesta had overslept and, fearing being late, skipped breakfast. Eris had handed her a bag of pastries with what she thought was a condescending look and said something snarky like how the growling of her stomach was distracting him from focusing on the case details.

Despite his jerkish behavior, Nesta hadn’t planned on refusing the tasty food. At first, she tried. But within a few minutes, the smell of the fresh pastries was driving her crazy. So, taking advantage of the moment when Eris left the room, she wolfed down the entire croissant and then calmly continued listening to their mentor as if nothing had happened.

Later that evening, she asked where Eris had bought the pastries, and he pointed to this very café, saying it was the first place he found in his usual jerkish tone. Nesta, who had been about to thank him, changed her mind and instead said she was surprised he didn’t drop dead of a heart attack after stepping into an establishment without a Michelin star.

Two hours later, the two hungry students were walking back to the hotel when it started pouring rain. What had been a sunny day turned into a downpour, and neither of them had an umbrella. The best decision then was to run into this café since it was the closest place.

The owners, a sweet elderly couple, said they looked like two wet rats. Nesta had added that they were also two hungry rats, while Eris just took off his soaked coat—both his and hers—swallowing some snarky comment.

Margaret, the café owner, quickly ran off to make them two mugs of hot tea while Bart, her husband, dished out all the unsold desserts and snacks. And both refused to let them pay, saying that young students never have money anyway. Nesta had looked at Eris with sparkling amusement in her eyes, knowing it was probably the first time someone had called him poor.

The next morning, they returned to the café, paid, and left a generous tip. During their internship, the café became their main spot for meals. And even after they moved to the city after graduation, they would still visit from time to time, though now separately.

These days, Nesta would stop by to buy desserts for her daughters. Margaret nearly cried the first time she saw little Astrid, saying the girl was now like a granddaughter to her.

"So you come here often?" Eris asked, glancing around and evaluating the place.

"Astrid loves the chocolate croissants here," Nesta nodded.

"Wonder who she takes after," Eris chuckled and then gave their usual order to the waitress. Nesta wasn’t surprised that he still remembered what she always ordered. That jerk always annoyed her with his good memory.

Noticing his distraction, as he drummed his fingers on the wooden table, clearly thinking about what had happened in court, Nesta just shook her head.

"You really need to find a way to turn off your brain," she observed.

"I need to win the case and move on, and then I’ll think about rest," he smirked in response.

"Keep it up, and I’ll report you to Margaret," she teased.

"Oh no, the old lady will eat me and my workaholic ways alive," Eris joked, laughing. "Though she’s probably not working today," he noted, glancing toward the open kitchen, where it seemed the owners' son was working.

The waitress returned with two cups of coffee and two plates of chocolate cake. Nesta noticed that Eris was still pretending not to like sweets, lazily picking at his slice. Though she knew better.

Back in their student days, she couldn’t help but notice that when studying late at night for exams, Vanserra always had chocolate bars with him. And when he didn’t, he would stare longingly at her caramel candies, which she, unable to resist his sad-dog eyes, would offer him. Despite his snobby, judging look as if he didn’t want them, Eris always accepted them.

"You’ve got chocolate on your face," Eris said after they finished eating and asked for the bill, gesturing to the corner of her mouth. Nesta took a napkin to wipe it but missed the spot. "Not there," he said, taking the napkin from her hand and doing it himself.

She involuntarily froze. The last time Nesta could remember any interaction even slightly resembling this was more than a year ago with Cassian. They had been goofing around in the kitchen, but back then it felt forced, a fake sense of fun from the realization that their marriage was falling apart. Here? She had no idea why Eris’s small gesture felt like more to her than all the recent memories with her ex-husband, with whom she had been married for seven years.

“If we’re done with ‘unloading’ from work,” Eris snorted, leaving a generous tip on the table as they always used to do, “I suggest we head back to the car.”

Nesta simply nodded in agreement, getting up from her seat, and together they walked toward the car. Surprisingly, Eris didn’t immediately jump at the opportunity to start talking about work now that they were outside the café, though Nesta had expected that to be the first thing he’d bring up once they stepped out.

“How are your little troublemakers?” Eris asked instead once they were in the car.

“Is this your poor attempt at small talk?” Nesta smirked.

“Think of it as me taking an interest in my best senior associate’s life.”

“The girls are fine. Callista still brings home a new virus from daycare every other week, and Astrid continues to intimidate the boys at school.”

Eris chuckled softly. “I knew from the start that she’s got your genes.”

Nesta feigned outrage, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. “For your information, I didn’t bully anyone at school.”

“Just made them cry with a single look?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “How about you? How were you in school?”

“The most well-behaved student,” he grinned at her.

When they arrived at her house, Nesta almost invited him in. But something held her back. Perhaps it was the realization that, despite their easy conversation, Eris was still her boss. And why would he even accept such an invitation? Saving herself from potential embarrassment, she simply thanked him for the ride.

“Try not to drown yourself in ‘what if’ thoughts,” she said. “We’re going to win this case, Eris,” she added, feeling the need to reassure him, though she wasn’t quite sure why, as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

Instead of denying her statement, Eris merely smiled weakly. “Have a good evening, Nesta,” he said before driving off.

For three days, they had worked on the strategy for the second hearing. To say it was challenging would be an understatement. Nesta had been ready to personally go and threaten the factory owners because things couldn’t go on like this. And then she received the soil analysis results, and everything got worse.

“Don’t tell me this lab burned down too,” Eris sighed, noticing her furious expression as soon as she walked into his office and threw the lab report folder onto the table.

“Worse,” Nesta gritted through her teeth, starting to pace around the room. “The test results are negative. All of them.”

Eris looked at her in disbelief. “That’s impossible. Even an idiot would know there should be at least a trace of lead in the soil around the factory.”

“There isn’t,” Nesta sighed, stopping as Eris got up from his desk and stood in front of her. “Three meters deep and nothing.”

Running his hand through his hair, Eris tried to mentally find an explanation. “We sent the request anonymously. The factory owners couldn’t have tampered with the results unless they bought out every lab in the city, which is impossible.”

Nesta bit her lower lip. “They didn’t have to,” she said, pulling out another document from the folder and handing it to Eris. “We tested the soil at the shelter’s property. Look at this.”

Eris scanned the document and let out an irritated huff. “Charitable land improvement? Let me guess, anonymous.”

“Yes, someone just decided to plant trees and replace all the soil, exactly three meters deep, across the entire property,” Nesta confirmed with the same irritation. “Clearly not out of the goodness of their heart. Those bastards knew it would go to court and removed any evidence.”

While Nesta struggled to channel her anger into work, Eris frowned as he read through the document. Noticing his expression, she couldn’t help but ask, “What’s wrong?”

Eris stayed silent, setting the document aside and going over to his desk, rummaging through the pile of papers scattered across the wooden surface in a rare display of disorder for Eris Vanserra.

“The improvement was done four weeks after the initial lawsuit was filed,” he said.

This time, Nesta frowned. “Four weeks? Projects like that are planned months in advance. Even if it was charity, the company wouldn’t have been able to prepare it all in time. Unless…”

“Unless they knew about everything from the start,” for the first time in days, a smirk touched Eris’s lips, signaling that they had finally found what they’d been looking for.

“The charity being anonymous doesn’t prove anything,” Nesta said, though she understood that they were now on the right track. “But if they knew ahead of time, they wouldn’t risk losing money in court.”

Exchanging a glance, as if the same thought clicked in their minds simultaneously, they both returned to the table, searching through the chaotic pile of documents for the one they needed. Nesta was focused solely on finding the insurance document, definitely not on how many times their hands touched—four—while they searched.

“Here,” Eris was the first to find it, handing the document to her. Nesta scanned it, and it was her turn to smile. “Judging by the size of your grin, the amount is at least five times higher than regular factory insurance.”

“Explains why they were so quick to offer a hundred thousand per child,” Nesta said, turning the document toward him so Eris could read it too. “Congratulations, Vanserra, you found the golden ticket.”

“We found it,” Eris smiled, taking the document from her hands.

And maybe it was the rush of emotions, finally positive after days of endless stress. Maybe it was exhaustion from the long workday and driving around the city. Maybe it was her foolishness. Because, still smiling, Nesta suddenly kissed him.

[jerktournament]

ROUND ONE - Louie (Pikmin) VS Scaramouche (Genshin Impact)

!! PROPAGANDA BELOW !!!

LOUIE: "single handedly caused his employer to go in massive debt. stole the food supplies of 3 people tasked to save their homeplsnet from starvation. tried to kill his employer snd coworker twice."

SCARAMOUCHE: "He's a terrible, terrible, terrible guy I adore him so much. Would hate me if he actually met me (I don't care though). Started off innocent and kind and loving but was abandoned by his mother figure, betrayed, and had another childhood friend die, all at the age of 1. Entirely disillusioned with the world. Tried to become god at one point because mommy issues go brrr. Has committed war crimes. The sassiest little man. Will literally listen to your opinion on a topic that you have studied for years and obtained the opinion from a renowned professional in the field and basically tell you that you're weak and not driven enough to use the gifts you have, and then immediately leave. Would probably die if he ever had to genuinely apologize. Proof that short people are angrier because they are closer to hell. Enjoys drama. He's a tsundere in a thousand ways but my favorite is when he abandoned the names he was given by mortals, as he will "never again regard any of them as his companions" and then a while later allows you to name him. Also have I mentioned he has a thousand names? I haven't even listed them all. He also had titles like Shouki no Kami, the Prodigal and Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom, but that was back when he was god for a day. He's my numero uno little man and also made me realize that all my faves are men that would treat me badly"

[attheexactlyrighttimeandplace]

It has been more than 24 hours since the last massacre of Palestinian civilians organized by the Americans and jewish zionists in Gaza, and Algeria has still not officially reacted to the crimes committed.

No declarations from the usual communication channels which are our Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA) and the Algerian Press Agency which exclusively represents the voice of our President since last April (he "appropriated" it by decree because the war approaches our borders).

I wonder if this silence is a turning point. The final nail in the coffin on what has been a very turbulent journey to try to change our relationship with the United States.

The journey began with the war in Ukraine in 2022: like all Arab countries, we really angered the United States by refusing to side with the EU against Russia. And we reached the point of open conflict with the United States (they sent their deputy secretary of state in March 2022) when we terminated our energy contract with Spain (we are their main supplier of gas) after the Spanish Prime Minister began supporting Morocco's claims on Western Sahara's land.

But Algeria surprisingly backed down on many points and began to rapidly improve its relations with the United States - Blinken, the US Secretary of State came to Algeria several times, our Foreign Ministry was invited to Washington - to the point that our country, which has been a faithful ally of Russia for 60 years seemed on the verge of joining NATO last April (I think Algeria might become a Major Non Nato Ally but is hidding its true intention for various reasons linked to the international context in North Africa, more precisely in the Sahel where 3 countries have expelled, under the influence of Russia, the American and French military bases from their lands and are openly eyeing the Algerian borders to destabilize us, in addition to the conflict with Morocco).

A few decades ago, the genocide of the Palestinians would have stopped these efforts very quickly, probably leading to a further breakdown in diplomatic relations with the United States.

Not this time: Algeria was still signing massive contracts in fossil fuels and unconventional energy (shale gas) with major American companies like Exxon Mobile and Chevron (although at a slower pace than expected) in May 2024, and our president was invited to the G7 summit which will take place next week in Italy, an invitation designed as a reward for Algeria's support for Europe's energy security and for its fight against illegal immigration which largely benefits Europeans.

This is why the decision of the Algerian mission to the UN to oppose the very important vote scheduled for Friday, June 7 to transform Biden's plan for Gaza into a resolution at the UN Security Council, was the most stupid move ever taken.

Blinken, the US Secretary of State, made a very special call to our Department of Foreign Affairs to obtain our consent to the plan proposed by Biden. This call was heavily promoted as a turning point by the entire US diplomatic network on all social media platforms, including on X: from the US Embassy in Algiers to the US State Department account, and their X account in Arabic for the MENA region.

Algeria obviously adhered to this plan, there is no other way to explain our pure and simple abandonment of the resolution we wrote to implement the latest decision of the ICJ which ordered the end of all operations in Rafah.

It is therefore easy to measure the extent to which Algeria has been incoherent, senseless and dangerous for itself and for Palestine in this context where the United States show no mercy, approve of genocide and have repeatedly rejected our demands during the previous negotiations in the UN Security Council to save more lives - when through the voice of our ambassador to the UN, Algeria gave the feeling of thinking that it could once again stop the vote, and try to negotiate new demands regarding Palestinian prisoners.

This is not surprising when you consider who our ambassador to the UN is: an overly old diplomat who has been unable to include the American point of view in his analysis. His conviction of being right against the rest of the world, his romantic views on resistance and his desire to play the savior of Palestine lead him to demonstrate a lack of humility and a lack of relevance in his analysis (like in his speech on terrorism at the UN where he asked for compassion for terrorists as if we hadn't lost 100,000 people in a civil war because of terrorism (!).

However, I do not believe that it was supported by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs or by our President. We have experienced a lot of management problems in the last 15 days at the highest level of the state, due to keeping the wrong people in important positions for the wrong reasons, to the point that it has had disastrous consequences, with deadly human consequences. Last week, some civil servants were fired and others were forcibly transferred, but explaining that doesn't cover the extent of the problem.

But back to the UN, after a revised version of Biden's plan was presented, we were given a 48-hour period of silence to object. In the end, the vote was to take place on Friday June 7, 2024, but due to Algeria's intervention in the Security Council, it was postponed until next Monday. There is no doubt that Algeria is responsible for the breakdown of consensus on the plan, because China seems to have forgotten the issue and only reacted and opposed it after us, and Russia only followed China!

The next day, the massacre took place in the Nuseirat camp: the latest reports say that there were 274 deads, 814 injured.

I really wonder, given the timing, how it would be possible that Algeria's decision, which comes after a long period of tense disagreements with the United States in the UN Security Council, not only on Palestine but also Africa and the Arab world, might not have triggered the so-called rescue? The United States had known for weeks where the hostages were because English planes had been flying over the area to gather information for weeks as well, so the plan was set and ready to be executed in case it was needed.

Which to me is the decisive proof that this was an American operation from conception to execution, Netanyahu would not have waited a second to take the opportunity to increase his popularity, and could never have carried it out without American support (his genocidal zionist soldiers only know to drop bombs on civilians). On the same day of the Nuseirat massacre, Gantz, a member of Netanyahu's war cabinet and government, was expected to resign. A few weeks ago, at the request of the United States, he issued an ultimatum to Netanyahu to find a solution for Rafah, or to accept his (Gantz) resignation which would have led to new elections that Netanyahu was certain to lose. Yesterday, not knowing what to do after the rescue, Gantz asked the United States what they wanted and the United States' response was that they do not interfere with Israel's internal politics! Algeria probably also ruined this plan indirectly.

My impression is that the United States did not betray Algeria: it did not intend to carry out its rescue mission because it was more concerned about the potential support Algeria could provide in the war against Russia (the Algerian army has been training with live ammunition for weeks, and my theory is that a large Algerian contingent is going to be sent to Ukraine), than they cared about the zionist settlers and zionist soldiers being held hostage by Hamas.

But Algeria's inability to keep its word after Biden's plan was officially accepted by our officials made us truly unreliable, even to be sent to Russia, and even though Algeria is the best card the West has, given the Ukraine's lack of soldiers (Algeria has been Russia's main customer for all types of military contracts for decades and is very familiar with Russian aircraft and equipment, and has conducted joint military exercises with Russia even deep within Russian territory).

If our president decides to save Algeria's commitments to the West: he should really fire our ambassador to the UN, and completely review and change our internal process of opposition to resolutions at the UN (we have a status of non-permanent membership until the end of 2025, which the United States helped us gain).

If he doesn't save it, and doesn't go to the G7 summit, I don't know how we will survive future wars to come: Morocco has expansionist views, and its military capacity is currently being improved by the genocidal Israeli. who are building a drone factory on our borders and launching two satellites for Morocco; Russia, which threw us under the bus because we refused to help Putin in his plan to destroy the EU's energy security, entered Niger, Mali, Burkina Faso and Libya militarily, made them its vassals and now claims a percentage of our oil and gas resources!

I don't know what the future holds for us….

[4l3x-3ngl1sh]

MHA worldbuilding headcanon: Quirk licenses

The fact that it is illegal to use your quirk in public with the exception of those holding provisional licenses raises the possibility of other career quirk licenses.

(I think this is canon,,,?) The firefighters are shown to be allowed to use their water quirks, so why can't other people?

The way I think it would work is that someone confirms that you have stable use of your quirk and has you put in an application that can be denied. You would have to do a short interview (5 minutes) where you explain why you need it, why you think you should have it ect. People with a criminal record probably wouldn't be able to obtain one since it would be a liability if they were to commit a quirk-related crime while having an active license.

I'd imagine there are a lot of chefs with fire quirks, especially hibachi chefs or other chefs that cook in front of the customers. Of course the food would be prepared on the cooktop itself, but their use of flames would make the experience way more captivating.

On the darker side, people who's quirk assists them on the job would probably be paid more and work less than their coworkers.

Some other jobs would probably be nursery teachers with calming quirks, medical professionals like Recovery Girl that have healing quirks, people with quirks like cementos that work in construction. So many examples, theyre endless.

I don't know how this would work with mutants though, because they can't... not use their quirk. Lets use the canine police officer that todoroki basically called a slur as an example, he probably is good at chasing down suspects because of his sense of smell, but that's just natural to him.

Let me know what you think. Its so late rn im tired

[squadrah]

La Squadra in detective fiction

Giving a variety of flavors for each, I've been absorbing Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie stuff like a sponge lately.

RISOTTO

As a detective: One of those grimy hard-boiled types who has to get his hands dirty in more ways than one to get his evidence, though when it comes to obtaining information, his intimidating stature and demeanor get results very quickly. When he makes his interest in the case known, only the most hardened culprits stand a chance of not keeling over from heartburn on the spot, leading to fast results.

As a mere suspect: Interrogating him is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. He's not very observant or judgmental in general, so unless he had a grudge, it's difficult to get his opinion on anything or anyone, and his taciturn nature compels him to stay quiet if he thinks that what he knows can't possibly have any bearing on the case. He's mostly right there because he spends too much time in his own head.

As the culprit: Too obvious, say the sleuths, especially if the murder was violent, so he's often taken up and dismissed with the feeling that his being the solution sounds too easy. It would take spending time with him to realize that he has a very smooth touch and doesn't need his brutal strength to get the job done, though that depends on the victim. Would only do premeditated murder born out of a grudge.

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FORMAGGIO

As a detective: He's one of those street-smart freelancers around town who can't resist a fun challenge when they have nothing else to do, especially if there is some tangible incentive (money or sex will get him every time). He knows a lot of ruffians about who may help him in the investigation as a favor, and gets a kick out of bullying the culprits while he figures out what authority to pawn them off on.

As a mere suspect: Unless he really liked the victim, he will not take the case seriously and may end up throwing unnecessary suspicion on himself by making tasteless jokes and sounding rather careless about it all. When his past comes under scrutiny, he will either come up perfectly harmless or having engaged in something petty that complicates the case, but had nothing to do with the actual murder.

As the culprit: He can live down a lot of things, so only monetary gain could truly induce him to take a life. He's quick and dexterous (think him tossing that tiny car into his victim's drink in the anime) and would probably add poison to the victim's drink, reasoning rightly that nobody would ever profile him as a poisoner without tangible evidence and the less he interacted with the victim, the better.

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PROSCIUTTO

As a detective: He's the classic type who needs to be propositioned and well compensated throughout, and in return he always gets clean-cut results. He'll consider the clues and employ his powers of deduction for the most part, but at critical junctures, he will expose himself to danger in the knowledge that he's perfectly capable of wrecking his opponents until they are only too glad to be arrested.

As a mere suspect: Probably the most reliable witness on the premises because he'll stick to the point and doesn't care to embellish the details, so he can come across as rather crude. He's just uncanny enough to arouse some doubt initially, but the more other people are interviewed, the more his honesty shines through. He will resent being pestered beyond the first interview, though.

As the culprit: Let's face it, he would murder for any number of reasons, personal or otherwise, and he would keep it very simple with a shot to the head. Being so thorough and technical, he could probably make even a spur of the moment crime seem premeditated, and if he were to commit a premeditated crime, chances are he would never be found out because he knows when to leave it alone.

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PESCI

As a detective: I could picture him as a low-rank police officer who goes to process the crime scene, spots something small or out of place that puzzles him but has been overlooked by others as seemingly irrelevant, and keeps dwelling on that one point until he gets the wind up the investigators and they check on his line, only to solve the case and take the credit because Pesci's too shy to step up.

As a mere suspect: One of the worst mumblers you've ever met, and the more he's questioned, the more flustered he gets until he starts misremembering details. You would have to calm him down and reassure him continuously to get the full story, but it's worth it because he's an excellent observer and tends to eschew speculation or personal opinion in favor of what he's absolutely certain of.

As the culprit: There are two ways he would commit murder - it would either have to be in the heat of the moment, half passion and half accident, or because he had been pushed beyond his limit and something finally snapped inside. He would either panic afterwards and make mistakes, or cover it up with a lot of cold common sense; whichever way it happened, he would only confess if broken down.

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GHIACCIO

As a detective: Every episode would center around his compiling a conspiracy board and ranting to himself like he's Charlie raving to Mac about Pepe Silvia. As he rants and storms we would get brief flashbacks or enactments of whatever event or connection he's dwelling on until the board was complete and the mystery solved; last scene he's beating the shit out of the perp in a parking lot.

As a mere suspect: He's incredibly high-strung and way too loud, and he goes off on such violent tangents that it's hard to keep him to the point, and even then he's too opinionated to be of any real use. He teeters between focused and accurate (if he was invested in some particular detail at the time) and completely unreliable (mostly blinded by anger or overwhelmed just trying to manage himself).

As the culprit: No premeditation about this one; it would honestly stress him too much to plan out anything. If he killed, he would lash out and keep going until he spent his wrath, and then dispose of the body as quickly as possible. He's small and vocal enough that he would probably get overlooked as someone incapable of this much brutality, surely, but his temper would eventually give him away.

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MELONE

As a detective: He's like if Jane Marple was a transmasc scene girl; he'll get involved in a murder and next thing you know he's getting his hair dyed at the local salon and getting every bit of gossip out of the suspects' weed smoking girlfriends, and then typing it all up at a café until he's satisfied in his mind about who did it and how. Will then drop some hints to whoever's in charge and go on his merry way.

As a mere suspect: He cannot stop going on tangents but in quite a different way from Ghiaccio: he usually has some interesting trivia or specialized knowledge to share, and gives the investigators plenty of food for thought. Loves to talk and can be consulted over and over, but he will get more and more abstract as time goes on and share his own theories based on blood type and horoscope, so be careful.

As the culprit: Being an invalid, he would often be treated as frail and incapable, but he has a very calculating mind and decent mobility, so if he decided to murder, he would probably stage a convincing accident to happen somewhere away from him. In a pinch he might resort to weaponizing his medication as poison, hoping that suspicion would fall on someone else with knowledge and access.

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ILLUSO

As a detective: I could see him as an accidental detective/informant - he's nosy and loves to dig up dirt on people, but sometimes this leads to his uncovering something that should have been left well alone, and then he has no choice but to quickly pass all his material over to some competent authority before anyone might come after his snooping ass. Justice is honestly an afterthought for him.

As a mere suspect: He's always pegged as a shady character and rightfully so, but he is surprised and offended every single time it happens. He's somewhat defensive, especially when he gets nervous, but where he feels safe, he will unload a lot of sordid details about the victim and everyone else involved, and insinuates as much as he can. Will then make the investigators swear they didn't hear it from him.

As the culprit: He would prefer to premeditate, not only to indulge in the fantasy of retribution and his own cleverness, but also because it seems safer to have a plan of action. He might stage an accident on the spot and then give a sob story when interrogated, or go with a good old fashioned overdose of whatever, but if he were cornered, he would strike impulsively out of fear, not caring what method he used.

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SORBET

As a detective: This one is a slow and quiet thinker. He will take a gander at the crime scene and address questions to those involved, but seems to involve himself as little as possible on the whole, and thus ends up surprising everyone when he finally divulges his plausible theories and more than plausible solutions, mostly based on first impression, psychology, and focusing on the money motive.

As a mere suspect: He's balefully apathetic and uncooperative, always asking if he could go now, and often insists of having seen and head nothing. Underneath it all, he's either neutral or contemptuous of those involved, or deeply attached to the culprit and boldly, if placidly, covering for them every step of the way. Has very little regard for human life and infinite regard for an inheritance.

As the culprit: One of the few who would have no qualms about choking their victim with their bare hands, and it's always about money one way or another. He would make a very thorough clean-up and face the interrogation in his usual manner, possibly laying the apathy on even thicker than usual. You could only get him with damning evidence, and even then he would never own to it.

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GELATO

As a detective: He would be such a jolly fella, just a funny little guy grinning widely and asking the most uncanny questions, and tapping you on the arm as he made a joke about hanging you based on what you had just told him about your relationship to the victim. Will casually hound the suspect all friendly like, and then cook their goose at the public barbecue for the entire world to marvel at the roast.

As a mere suspect: His degree of familiarity with the authorities would be quite jarring, and he would keep asking questions instead of answering them, not even for the sake of evasion but because he's excited about the crime and wants to hear what the sleuths think. He will appear to know too much without actually knowing anything, and let's face it, he'd probably be the second person to die because of it.

As the culprit: He will do nothing by halves, and if he wants to commit murder, then by damn it will be a freak show with weird props and arson and plenty of red herrings scattered about to keep the investigators on their toes. He would never get away with it simply because everyone's testimonies would line up about what a lethal trickster he is, but he would go down as a sensation and love it.

[plusvanity]

same anon here! thx for answering <3 but if he's not a psychopath/ sociopath how do you explain his murder? genuinely curious

His crime was motivated by envy. Envy is a powerful sentiment rooted in self-doubt, a complex of inferiority, poor emotional intelligence, and a lot more things that one shouldn't be proud of.

Childishly, he got frustrated over the title and the prestige that he couldn't obtain, so he decided to eliminate the object of his frustration (Øystein).

The most primordial difference between psychopaths (factor 1), sociopaths and narcissists is motivation.

In Maslow's hierarchy of needs, psychopaths have on the highest level physiological needs : money, power, sex. In other words, what is at the very base for a normal person, it's at the top for them. Contrary to narcissists who have self-esteem needs at the top.

You will never find psychopaths on the streets doing crimes. You will find them in high-status positions, as politicians, successful businessmen, judges, etc.

Now talking about the differences between narcissists and sociopaths. They can look the same from the distance, they can both commit crimes.

What I believe that Varg did was switching from his standard narcissistic state to a secondary sociopathy. This can happen when a collapsed narcissist (devoided of any narcissistic supply) gets pushed and pushed far beyond his limits by something or someone so frustration that it makes him lash out. Don't forget that a narcissist already has low empathy, very low tolerance to stress and high paranoia. So, from the start, a normal person wouldn't be able to do what Varg did.

Varg got so mad that he drove for 5-6 hours in the middle of the night with one thing on his mind. This was his secondary sociopathic outburst.

The opposite of becoming secondly sociopathic, is becoming borderline. A collapsed narcissist, stripped of all supplies, that lost his independence and can't get back on his feet, neither is pushed to the extreme of acting out (what I earlier explained) becomes needy. In fact, there are theories that suggest that every borderline is a failed narcissist and every narcissist starts as a borderline (look that up).

If he was fully a sociopath, he would've committed more than one crime, wouldn't be able to maintain a long-lasting relationship, wouldn't stop at JUST receiving admiration on the Internet.

Narcissists are prosocial creatures, not antisocial. What is the most important for them is receiving praise and endless admiration.

Varg is chronically online, highly dependent on the reactions that he gets. He still talks about Øystein because he knows that what generates him more controversy and reactions and because he will never get over his envy. This is how he keeps himself relevant, how he keeps himself alive.

Sociopaths are even more violent and they act on impulse at all given times, can't have relationships, and in general, they are big scammers, not 'online influencers'.

Psychopaths aren't in jail, or on the streets. They're the guys who want to rule the world and probably do. End of story.

[rubykgrant]

Man. How many different schemes was Hargrove running? This guy was like...

-Fake "respectable businessman" who was into several forms of corporate sabotage/illegal activities

-Involved with "legit" military operations (bad by itself), opposing one experimental military project publicly, while creating a whole OTHER faux-military group who evidently thought THEY were the "good guys", and committed various war crimes on his behalf

-While outwardly the opposing the experimental military project in question, seemed to want to take the information for his own purposes, either controlling the known AI or trying to potentially create his own (having the "Meta suit" eventually re-built and evidently ready to work with multiple AI)

-Maybe had a FEW double-agents working for him that were also part of other groups

-Had some involvement/control over the prisons where his OWN people got sent, along with those from his "rival" group, and he could just offer them "deals", exchanging (illegal) favors for get-out-of-jail-free cards (probably not very trustworthy), or let them rot if he felt they were no longer useful

-"Congratulated" the colorful Sim Troopers for all their accomplishments, possibly because he was also connected to all the Red and Blue training programs (who also mostly got abandoned or treated as "criminals", he may have even known about Temple's group/the situation that followed with the captured Freelancers)

-Had an interest in various alien technology, probably had a hand in some very unethical "scientific" expeditions to obtain it, potentially causing more clashes between humanity and other life-forms (unknown amount of involvement regarding the temple in the Sand, Tucker and Junior, and the floating AI orb that eventually became a home for Epsilon)

-Planned to hire mercenaries to fan the flames between two disagreeing groups in the hopes of forcing thousands of people to kill each other, so he could take whatever was left from the planet (again, alien tech, and later- the AI)

-Then he just effed off. Hit the 'ol cosmic trail

[friend-of-giants]

Sujamma Sundas!

Late, but I was tagged last night by @theoneandonlysemla and I've been at work all day today.

Today, Sujamma wants to know about your OC's moral compass. What God do they worship and why? Do they engage in any illicit activities (drugs, etc?) Any holy activities, like healing in the name of a certain divine? Have they committed any crimes, or are there any crimes they actively despise? Feel free to talk about anything and everything along these lines.

Tagging.. @sheirukitriesfandom @vervayyn @juniperberries-canisroot idk who else to tag honestly lol

Morally, Wren is a mess. She spent a good sixty years living as a bandit, so that should give you all an idea of how she feels about morals and crimes and lawfulness. Murder, assault, theft, breaking and entering, she's probably done it all during those years, and has no regrets. To her, it was just part of being an outlaw. And she joined them at a very young and impressionable age (roughly 11 to 12, she doesn't know exactly) so to her, that was normal.

Once she decided to leave that lifestyle and join society, she had to learn to behave. She spent her first free year trying to earn a living as a mercenary in Windhelm, but not many would hire her for such work, so she turned to prostitution. Not the most honorable way to make an income, but she made a lot, enough to leave for Whiterun and truly start a new life.

Of course with her background, she's tempted to commit crimes and generally beat the shit out of people when she's angry, but knows well enough to let it be, as she really doesn't want to end up on the chopping block. Though she does kill a certain Windhelm resident in chapter 10 of my fic... does she get away with it? Perhaps 😏

She isn't a fan of crimes committed against children, for the obvious reason of They're Innocent, and also for reasons I can't get into at the moment.

Gods? Wren believes in them, but doesn't actively worship any. She feels that they've never listened to her prayers, and in turn she tends to ignore them. Although since meeting Teldryn (who is the Nerevarine in my canon and therefore very close with the Dunmer pantheon), she has given Azura a fair shot.

And as far as illicit substances are concerned, she's had a lifelong struggle with alcoholism, and is still dealing with it. In her heyday among the bandits, drugs were a routine indulgence, but are off the table now - mainly because obtaining them is more difficult within the city, but also because she's well aware of how the years of abuse damaged her both physically and mentally.