#airport courses

[zabairportcourses]

Airport Courses

Founded in 1988, Zabeel International Institute of Management and Technology has transformed the student experience in UAE by setting the new bench marks for Training Standards.

Airport Courses

[gazkamurocho]

Goromi will be your hostess wherever you go~

[morganbritton132]

in the emtts universe, do you think eddie and/or steve would watch movies in other languages with robin? like, my friend and i - she's french and i'm indian so she watches bollywood romances with me and i watch french romances with her every sunday :-)

First, that’s an adorable thing to do with your friend and I think it’s very sweet that you and your friend take a vested interest in each other’s culture.

I can see Steve and Eddie both watching films in foreign languages with Robin separately.

Like, Steve ends up watching a lot of foreign films with Robin by proxy.

Robin insists that the only want to keep a language is to be immersed in the culture and since there’s not a lot of culture in Hawkins that isn’t painfully Americana, she rents out the abysmally small foreign film section from Family Video constantly. Since Steve is with her a lot, he is also immersed in these cultures.

He complains but he also secretly loves it.

He loves how into the movies Robin gets. He loves how passionately she explains it to him. He loves trying to figure out the plots and how she lights up when he gets it right, but he loves it even more when he gets it wrong.

Robin likes a lot of arthouse films that don’t have linear timelines or that are meandering to the point of confusion so sometimes Steve misses the mark completely, but it’s okay. They’ve spent hours after a movie, telling two different stories about what they just watched and Robin never seems upset that Steve just didn’t get it.

Eddie ends up watching films in foreign languages with Robin out of necessity.

In like a ‘my world famous band is about to tour Europe and I just realized that I only speak English but you keep correcting how I do that so maybe I don’t keep English too good either’ kind of necessity to which Robin responded, “Jesus Christ.”

Eddie got a passport and then realized that Gareth took three years of French, Grant spoke fluent German with his grandmother all the time, and Jeff was passable with Spanish, and Eddie. Gee, Eddie was going to look like the biggest idiot on the planet – “Or, you’ll just look like an American.”

“That’s even worse!” Eddie despaired, draping himself across the counter of Family Video. “Help me, Robin-wan, you’re my only hope.”

Help to Robin was an English to Spanish dictionary and a bunch of study material, but help to Eddie was the Italian Giallo he picked up in Indianapolis last week because that was more fun. She sent Eddie off to Europe with an English to Spanish dictionary and a ‘good luck.’

It did not help.

[yellowistheraddest]

central europeans be scared, im in a plane above you rn and im gonna pull a scary face and youre gonna be so scared

[nabaath-areng]

Being brought up on a farm and only ever going back indoors to head right back out again for my whole life, the decreasing amount of insects has been extremely noticeable and it's been going on for years. Of course it's been worrying with the climate catastrophe, and once I became a beekeeper and learned more about my village's local flora it became even more glaring.

So imagine my surprise this year when there are more insects than I can count. Sitting on my porch (practically my room during summers) I'm noticing species I haven't seen since I was at least a young teenager, and there are more butterflies of different varieties than I even remember from my childhood!

There are so many bees flying around too, probably from the hives down by the old homestead buildings by the church and school, owned by the woman I know from the local beekeeper's association.

What's more is that this year there has been no drought OR flooding, so there are a lot more flowers blooming for longer, and everyone in my village as well as the surrounding villages are reporting a burst of activity in their hives... as well as higher activity from the wild bees and pollinators. For the first time in years it's starting to resemble the way it was when I was younger.

All that is to say, the climate catastrophe is real, and in my area it's causing a lot more violent thunderstorms... but oh my god all this reminds me why I persist despite the despair that tries to dig its claws in.

I may not be able to do major change on a global scale, but you can bet me and everyone here will at least try and support this little place. We can keep going in the fight against the municipality that wants to urbanize at the cost of our precious biodiversity, and we can continue to fight to keep out the cities that tries to enroach on us and get closer.

It is rare for villages in Götaland to remain this free from urbanization despite being nestled right in the middle of multiple major cities, and there's no excuse to destroy what little there is left of it down here in the south.

[kissycat]

Ok, now that I'm at the airport and not scared because I've done it before I can appreciate airports as really cool and weird places

[nugget-of-terror]

[jeffbiblesupremacy]

Jeff at the airport (x)

[caeli0306]

chapter 2 of castles crumbling (aka Tales from the Airport Bathroom extended version) now posted!

Chapter 2: Kingdom Dance is now up on AO3: READ HERE

WE ARE SO BACK BESTIES.

Summary:

Violet should already be dead. People whispered about her weak body and how she would never live up to her family's martial accomplishments. Violet rose above them all, however, fighting and killing to survive the Navarrian Intelligence Agency's brutal BASGIATH training protocol. Now, people whisper about Violet's swift ascension through the NIA's ranks as one of its most valuable operatives and assassins. The whispers don't matter to Violet: She has her own agenda, and it's a dangerous one - finding out what happened to her father.

But one mission changes everything: Suddenly, Violet finds herself in the crosshairs when she stumbles on information Navarre wants buried, and the country she fought for begins to turn on her. Violet knows too much, but she's determined to do what she does best: Survive. Her only hope is the son of the man who they say killed her brother, but their partnership is far from assured. Some grudges run deep, and trust is a currency too valuable to give freely. Xaden realizes Violet may be the key to everything, but with enemies seen and unseen closing in on all sides, the consequences of failure are deadly.

===

“I know you Sorrengail – you won’t do anything to me, at least not today.” I bristle at how certain she sounds, yet I don’t move to prove her wrong. “If you decide to believe what I’ve told you, track down Fen’s son.”

I scrunch my eyebrows as I peer up at her. “Fen Riorson has a son?”

Devera laughs. “Oh yes. I think you’ll like him.”

I open my mouth to ask more, but Devera is already walking away. I don’t bother following her – I slipped a tracker in her pack when she picked up our drinks earlier. I have no doubt that she’ll find it soon, but at least it will give me an idea as to her direction when I inevitably decide to track her down again.

I turn my attention back to the small thumb drive resting on the table, my fingers tapping against the hardwood. I should destroy it. I should follow my orders. But I know I won’t. The entire reason I forced myself to stay alive against all odds was to find Dad. If this thumb drive can give me answers, or even set me on the right path to find them, then I don’t give a fuck what happens to me.

Slight treason it is.

[zabairportcourses]

IATA Airport Operations Training Course in Dubai

Founded in 1988, Zabeel International Institute of Management and Technology has transformed the student experience in UAE by setting the new bench marks for Training Standards. Serving more than 16 diverse industries, Zabeel International is a leader in Professional Training and Management consulting. Our commitment to creating intelligent solutions and delivering extraordinary training courses empower companies to perform above their potential.

Overview of IATA Airport Operations Training Course

IATA Airport Operations Training course Management and airline management is the most demanded certification training course in Dubai, Sharjah, Abudhabi & UAE at the moment. IATA provides Airport Operations Certification. Zabeel provides the best Airport Operations Course.Zabeelairline academy is a leading provider of training solutions and professional development program for the IATA. We provide important technical skills and enhance the knowledge to reach the expertise level. Upon completing this course you will have the skills to:

Know the history of aviation and understand the role airports play in the economy

Discover the various airport customer and partners

Gain knowledge about the multiple operational and business functions of airports

Acquire the tools to apply your knowledge and skills to your airport environment

IATA Airport Operations Training and Certification courses in Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Sharjah, UAE

Zabeel Institutebecame an IATA Authorized training centre in 2009.

Zabeel has been awarded as Top 10 Performing Centre in Middle East 2019.

IATA is a trade body of the world’s airlines. Zabeel International is a Top Performing Authorized IATA Training Centre in Middle East & Africa for the last many consecutive years.

IATA Airport Operation course provide you with a solid overview of theairport operationsfield and with tools to apply your knowledge and skills, it helps you to understand the role Airports play in the economy, and offers a complete solution to work in operations department of Airport (from airside operations and landside to terminal operations)

IATA Airport Operations Exam Prep Classes

The course is for 2 months. We have flexible schedules for Weekday and Weekends, which help the fresher’s, part time and full time working professionals to attend the training as per the flexible options available. In 2 months of IATA Airport Courses certification training, students will undergo continuous Assessment Tests, Online Question Paper Work outs and Mock Exams.

IATA Study material/Tool Kit consists of Original Book hard copy. We provide LMS ( Learning Management System) to all our IATA students. Zabeel, who is authorizedtraining center for IATA Coursesprovide students with online access key for Exam Practice.

Zabeel Institute is considered as the best training institute in Dubai

[sunwyrms]

AND THUS, THE SERPENT BITES IT’S OWN TAIL, AND THE CYCLE REPEATS.

[keykidpilipili]

KHML Astral Plane Musings

Based on the fact that the Astral Plane has working streetlights despite net 0 residents, i like to imagine there are buses, trams and metros running as well. Ghost subway heartless fights <3

[longagoitwastuesday]

ngl it sort of pisses me off the way adults regard Gojo in Jujutsu Kaisen at times. Which could be a very interesting and poignant point in a good way if well written, but as it is it becomes mainly just frustrating and sad in a negative way.

Nanami saying Gojo never cared about anything or anyone other than himself crashes interestingly with Kusakabe saying the whole situation was just all his fault because he refused to kill Itadori. The students are very aware of those aspects of Gojo's personality, but overall they seem to regard him with way more kindness and fondness even when at their rudest, not truly coinciding with either Nanami's or Kusakabe's views.

[lordgrimwing]

Friends And Family #06

Rain drummed against the roof in a steady rumble. Outside the old and wavy glass of the window panes, a summer storm drenched the land in sheets of rain. Grasses and brush not flattened by the downpour danced in the wind. The creaking of the trees couldn’t be heard over the wind and rain, and the heavy clouds forced the day into a premature dusk so forest was hardly visible beyond the yard.

Elros sat cross-legged on the rug next to Elrond and Celebrimbor, elbow on his knees and chin propped up on his hands. He disliked storms like this. He no longer had nightmares about the storm that swallowed his parents when storms raged outside, possibly because he couldn’t fall asleep with all the noise. At least the rain and wind were bad enough today to keep most everyone else inside too. 

Elrond leaned his head against his shoulder and yawned. “I’m bored,” He murmured.

Celegorm sat in a chair next to the fire, taking advantage of the light it cast to whittle away at a block of hardwood that was starting to look like an animal. He nudged Amrod with his bare foot.

The redhead looked up from the peas he was shelling into a wide bowl. “No,” He said, knowing exactly what his older brother was conveying. “I’m doing the peas. If Mae and Pa survive this and make it back home, I’m not going to be the one he accuses of having idle hands, again.”

“Yeah, we’re busy.” Amras agreed after swallowing a mouthful of peas.

Celebrimbor elbowed Elrond. “Sheesh, not so loud next time. Are you trying to get us put to work? This is the longest I’ve sat down all week! Pa’s had me digging out a spot for the new kiln so much I think he’s decided I’m some kind of mole. I didn’t think that’s what Papaw meant when he said I could start working with him at the forge.”

He glanced furtively toward the kitchen where his father was sharpening and cleaning an assortment of knives, from heavy ones used to butcher animals to the tiny, curved blade Nerdanel used to unpick stitches (usually when it was time to unhem clothes as the three children grew up into their uncles’ hand-me-downs). He sent him scouring the house for an hour to find any lost knives that somebody forgot to return to their proper places. Luckily, Curufin gave no indication that he was listening to them.

Maglor walked out of his and Maedhros’ bedroom. His braids, done in two loose lines down either side of his head, were still damp from his dash to and from the barn to tie the doors and window shutters closed to prevent the wind from blowing them open. He'd changed to dry clothes that gave every indication that he planned to spend the rest of the day relaxing. He had the soaked shirt and pants draped over an arm. Dragging a chair over from the table, he joined his brothers by the fire. 

“Ma wants those for supper.” He reminded Amras as he laid the clothes over the back of the chair to dry.

The redheads looked at each other.

“Shell faster.” Said the younger twin.

“Eat slower.” Suggested the other. 

Maglor shook his head and took his fiddle and bow down from the mantle above the hearth. He looked down at the children on the rug, “What are you three doing?”

Elros shrugged.

“Nothing,” Elrond said.

Celebrimbor groaned. “You’re the worst,” He muttered, standing and mentally preparing to be put to work around the house.

“Well then,” Maglor continued. “Brimby, since you’re up, bring the music box out here. This kind of weather calls for some entertainment.”

Finding this task far less onerous than what he expected, Celebrimbor hurried off to do as bidden. Maglor leaned against the wall and began testing the tune of the old instrument. Elrond and Elros moved over to sit by his feet. 

“Can I play the dulcimer?” Elros asked, perking up from the slump he’s been in since the clouds rolled in.

“Certainly,” The musician began sawing out a simple tune to warm up the fiddle and the audience. 

Celebrimbor returned then with the box Maglor kept his collection of instruments in to avoid them getting lost or broken in the often boisterous home. He’d already claimed the pair of joined wooden spoons Curufin carved a few years ago to replace the pair ruined by one of Celegorm’s half-feral dogs after someone—Celebrimbor—forgot the instrument outside. He left the box in the middle of the half circle around the fireplace. 

Elrond and Elros came over to claim their favorite instruments. While they were distracted, the youngest child stole Elrond’s spot closest to the warm bricks around the fire.

The kitchen door banged open and a sopping-wet Maedhros and Fëanor came in with an angry wail of rain-soaked wind. The eldest son’s thick hair was plastered to his face and back as though he’d gone swimming fully clothed. Their father didn’t look any better, summer linen shirt clinging to his arms and chest and clutching the satchel of tools in a white-knuckled grip. 

Celegorm looked up from his whittling as they entered. Amrod and Amras kept their intense focus on the shrinking pile of peapods. Curufin paused sharpening long enough to glance over at the pair. Maglor lifted his bow in greeting, letting his young accompaniment take over for a few moments.

“How was it?” He asked.

“Wet,” His father answered laconically, dripping all the way to Nerdanel's and his room. The door closed with a bang behind him.

“That bad?” Maglor asked his older brother.

Maedhros nodded. “You know Pa.”

They were not prepared for this degree of downpour when they left to check the charms and sigils placed at important locations around the homestead and other areas and trails the family frequented. Nerdanel warned they could expect rain in the afternoon, but Fëanor was confident they would return well before that. 

They had not. Several charms needed to be repaired, the feathers and string worn away by the weather and small, nibbling animals. Then Maedhros’ large gelding became oddly spooked by something hidden in a dark thicket. After investigating the spot and finding nothing out of the ordinary, Fëanor insisted on building a basic sign to keep foul presences away until he could craft a proper charm to block the beast from its newest foothold on the mountain. The rain came as Maedhros hung the twine and bone charm high in a tree. The horses made their displeasure with the turn of events clear on the ride back to the barn, the patriarch muttering with them.

Fëanor did not like getting wet.

His hair leaving a thin stream of water behind him, Maedhros sloshed across the main room to his bedroom to change. “I like how that’s sounding,” He added over his shoulder, nodding to the fiddle as he disappeared to get dry clothes. 

“There’s more where it came from!” Maglor called after him before turning his attention back to the song. He tapped his foot to help the children keep time with him.

Amrod drummed his fingers on the bowl. Amras shelled peas in rhythm. Celegorm murmured his version of the lyrics as the wooden dog took shape in his hands.  

Maedhros came back wearing only his damp underpants, wet boots held tightly in his hand and dripping clothes thrown over his other arm. Clearly having the same idea as Maglor, he tossed the clothes over the back of a chair and then carried the chair over to the fire by slipping his arm between the slats in the back. Celebrimbor scrambled aside to make room for him and almost dropped the musical spoons. The boots went on the hot bricks, though not so near the flames as to risk damage. In no hurry to leave the warmth of the fire or the companionship, he sat between Elros and Celegorm, long legs filling up the space as he crossed them.

The music picked up as they settled down. Celebrimbor caught the rhythm again after giving a few spoon taps at the wrong time. Elros leaned his shoulder against Maedhros’s side as he strummed the dulcimer’s strings and picked out an occasionally offkey accompaniment to the fiddle. The large elf smiled and wrapped an arm around him, careful not to bump the instrument with the end of his arm. He combed out small tangles from his hair with his fingers.

The music bounced along.

“Curu,” Celegorm called, having run out of his crude version of the song. He tossed the block of wood at his younger brother after he didn’t look up when called. 

Curufin rubbed his head and shot the blond a mildly peeved expression.

“Get over here.” 

Celegorm skillfully caught the rag his brother balled up and threw before leaving the knife sharpening behind. Tucking his knife into his breast pocket, he unfolded the oily fabric and laid it out on his knee. Smirking, he patted the knee and looked up at Curufin, inviting him to take a seat. Uninterested, Curufin slapped the back of his head where he kept his hair shorn close to the skin and leaned against the way instead, arms folded across his chest.

Celegorm put on a hurt look. Curufin threw the wooden dog at him. Amrod and Amras snorted. Celegorm ducked. The dog bounced across the floor, the noise the closest thing it would ever make to an actual bark.

To his eternal relief, Celebrimbor was too busy tapping his spoons on Elrond’s toes to see his uncle blow a kiss at his father. He finally stopped when Elrond kicked his hand and he dropped the spoons onto the bearskin rug.

“Ow,” He complained.

Elrond raised his eyebrows to question why the nine-year-old was surprised by the consequences of his actions. He might have said something too, but his mouth was occupied with his tin whistle. 

 He retrieved the musical spoons and settled down again into the rhythm. Soon, the uncles were all singing along to the song. 

Suddenly, Amras jumped to his feet. He grabbed his twin’s hands and hauled him up to his feet too, pushing the bowls of peas out of the way with the tip of one shoe. 

“Come on!” He exclaimed and tugged his brother into a dance. The hard soles of their shoes stomped and tapped against the floorboards, keeping beat with the music and adding their own flare to it. 

Celegorm whistled at them and began to clap in rhythm.

After a few seconds, the cellar doors slammed open (Fëanor added an entrance down into the cellar from the kitchen during one of his episodes of nearly unstoppable energy and questionable late-night decision-making). Caranthir’s head and shoulders appeared as he climbed up the ladder. 

“Land-o’-goshen!” He shouted at the ruckus. “What is going on up here?” 

He and Nerdanel went down into the cellar to take stock of her supply of dried plants and fruits for making salves and teas. Judging from the half-forgotten mushroom he had in one hand and the dirt sprinkled across his hair and shoulders, he’d been checking the light-sensitive mushroom log just below them when the twins began dancing.

Nerdanel came up after him, equally as dusty. 

Caranthir looked like he was trying to stay annoyed at his siblings, despite the levity brightening up the gloomy day. He scowled and shook his head, dirt tumbling down from his loose hair. He tried, but when Amrod waved at him to join the dance, he came after only a moment’s hesitation, discarding the mushroom cap on the table.

Nerdanel smiled to see all her children and grandchildren gathered around the fire, healthy and laughing and happy. There had been years where she feared she might lose one or more of them to the dangers of the mountain. There had been some very hard times, times she couldn’t even talk to her husband or find support from him, so intent was he in the childish belief that everything would be fine, that his sons just needed to rest, and that there was nothing, no injury, she could not heal. Somehow, though, they managed to survive year after year—not untouched or unchanged by what happened but alive and together.

Speaking of her husband, she soon noticed Fëanor’s absence. No doubt he’d tucked himself away in their bedroom to work on something and hadn’t even noticed the noise from the main room. Maedhros would not be so relaxed if anything happened while they were in the trees.

Shaking her head a little, she walked to their room and slipped inside.

As she suspected, she found Fëanor at his desk, scribbling in one of his many notebooks. The clothes he’d dressed in that morning were discarded near the door and he sat wrapped in a blanket made from the wool of their oldest sheep (the ewe was a decrepit thing now, her teeth worn down to nubs, her fleece patchy and thin over her bony body. She’d be gone before winter, either on her own or because they would not let her suffer the cold given the state she was in. Nerdanel was surprised he hadn’t taken care of her months ago; Fëanor did not usually allow the animals to linger, fading from life for this long. Celegorm’s dogs met a swift end if they became too ill—they rarely grew old—and the others were no different. She could not guess why he kept putting it off this time).

“Fëanor,” She began.

He raised a hand to stall her. “I’m busy.” He said, hunching over his notes. His hair left a damp spot on the blanket.

“They are singing and dancing. Come and join us.”

“I need to write this down. Things are changing. I need to make sense of it, of what and why.” His voice tremored with the beginning of agitation. “It’s changing.”

She walked to his side and laid a hand on his shoulder. Quickly, before she could see the pages, he closed the notebook and hid it under his hands. No one in the house could make sense of the code he devised for recording these particular thoughts, but he disliked them looking anyway, even for a moment. She brought her other hand to his cheek and slowly he looked up at her. His lips were a thin line across his face, his expression nervous. 

“My dear,” She began again. “We have a brief time before life carries on and takes our sons out again on their journeys. Come with me. Worries and storms will be here when we are done, but for now, there is joy and family, and together we are safe.”

She took one of his narrow hands. He let her guide him to his feet. The blanket slipped down his shoulders, and she adjusted it, tucking in a corner to keep it in place. His free hand, wrapped inside the blanket, clutched at the fabric under his chin. She let her hand linger on his cool cheek for a few moments longer, then pulled it back. They left the room like that, his hand in hers.

Maglor was watching the door when his parents reappeared, the others still caught up in the revelry. His fingers stuttered on the strings and the fiddle squealed as his bow arm jolted. He would have stopped playing, concerned by his father’s drawn face and short stride, but Nerdanel smiled and nodded for him to continue. He did, raising the others’ excitement by jumping into another tune and seeing how long it took the children to catch up to him again. Celebrimbor stumbled along until Elrond helpfully tapped the beat out on his thigh with his foot.

Maedhors rose and grabbed a chair, bringing it back to the group and placing it between Celegorm and Curufin, leaving enough room for a second chair. Nerdanel brought Fëanor to the seat and he sat down without prompting, the tension around his eyes softening. Maedhros brought a chair for her and she settled down to laugh and clap along with her children. This was just as much fun as some of the town hall dances she went to during her youth wandering from town to town with her family. 

She cheered when Amrod grabbed Curufin’s hand and dragged him into the dancing. Broad-shouldered and heavy-footed, he lacked the speed and grace of the twins and Caranthir, but he clonked along slightly offbeat with them with a grin. Soon, he pulled his son up to join him. Celebrimbor muttered something about never getting to just sit around but started dancing, clacking the spoons together on his hip or an upraised palm.

They continued on in that manner until the last of the light faded and the storm blew itself down to a whisper.

[youraveragecatastrophe]

I'll now take a moment of silence to think about all that To steal or not to steal has done for Carulia.

[paalove]

shes in bangkok and shes purple as fuck