#altitude-of-success

[thepersonalwords]

Your attitude towards life will define your altitude of success.

Debasish Mridha

[hungryfacesart]

You don’t have to be great to start, but you have to start to be great - Zig Ziglar

Starting is the most important part of success, even though finishing is often thought of as having arrived. It’s so easy to get caught up in wondering about how things will turn out that we lose sight of getting started. Also, if you worry about failing, or coming up against obstacles along the way, this can deter you from even starting. But all of that is imaginary thinking because you only…

[razan-safaris1]

The Machame route on Kilimanjaro is a moderately difficult trail, but very doable even for first-time backpackers with little to no altitude experience. Known as the "Whiskey" route, the Machame route is now the most popular route on the mountain. Compared with Marangu, the days on Machame are longer and the walks are steeper. The Machame route is considered difficult and is best suited for those who are more adventurous and have some hiking or backpacking experience. The route begins from the south, then heads east, traversing underneath Kilimanjaro's southern ice field before summiting. The minimum number of days required for this route is six, although seven days is recommended. The Machame route is scenically beautiful and varied. However, due to the heavy crowds, it loses some of its spenders.

Day 1: Machame Gate to Machame Camp Elevation (ft): (3,000 m): 5. 6,000 ft (1,830 m) to 10,200 ft (3,100 m). Distance: 11 km. Hiking Time: 5-7 hours Habitat: montane forest. Camp: Machame Camp. The drive from Moshi to the Mount Kilimanjaro National Park gate takes about 50 minutes. The journey passes through the village of Machame, which is located on the lower slopes of the mountain. We now leave the park gate and walk through the rain forest on a winding trail up a ridge. Lower down, the trail can be muddy and slippery. Gaiters and trekking poles are a good idea here. We continue a short distance until we reach the Machame Camp.

Day 2: Machame Camp to Shira Camp

Elevation (ft): 10,200 ft (3,100 m) to 12,600 ft (3,840 m). Distance: 9 km. Walking Time: 4-6 hours Habitat: Moorland. Full-board Shira Cave Camp After breakfast, we leave the glades of the rain forest and continue on an ascending path, crossing the valley along a steep, rocky ridge. The route now turns west onto a river gorge until we arrive at the Shira campsite.  

Day 3: Shira Camp to Lava Tower to Barranco Valley. Shira Camp to Barranco Camp (3,950 m.): 5-7 hours walking 12,600 ft (3,840 m) to 12,700 ft (3,860 m). Distance: 15 km. Walking Time: 5-7 hours Habitat: Semi-desert. Full Board Barranco Camp Today we walk on a gentle ascent with panoramic views. We traverse the southwest side of Kilimanjaro, passing underneath the Lava Tower and the final section of the Western Breach, and after a hot lunch at the bottom of the Lava Tower (4,600 m), we descend to the bottom of the Great Barranco Valley (3,950 m). .

Day 4: Barranco Camp to Barafu Camp Barranco Camp to Barafu Hut Camp {4600m} 6-8 hours. 4000m/13,000ft to 4700m/15,350ft Distance: 9km/ Walking Time: 6-8 hours Habitat: Alpine Desert Full Board at Barafu Camp. After breakfast, we leave Barranco and continue on a steep ridge up the Barranco Wall (elves 4250m/13,900ft), through the Karanga Valley (elves 4050m/13,250ft) to the junction which connects with the Mweka Trail. We continue up to the Barafu Camp. You have completed the South Circuit, which offers views of the summit from many different angles. Here we make camp with views of the summit in the distance.

Day 5: Barafu Camp to Summit, down to Mweka Camp Elevation (ft): 4700m (15,350ft) to 5895m (19,343ft) down to 3090m (10,150ft) Distance: 6km up; 13km down Hiking Time: 5-7 hours up; 5-6 hours down Habitat: Stone scree and ice-capped summit Very early in the morning (midnight to 2 a.m.), we continue our way to the summit between the Rebmann and Reitzel glaciers. You head in a northwesterly direction and ascend through heavy scree towards Stella Point on the crater rim. This is the most mentally and physically challenging portion of the trek. At Stella Point, you will stop for a short rest and be rewarded with the most magnificent sunrise you are ever likely to see. Faster hikers may view the sunrise from the summit. From Stella Point, you may encounter snow all the way on your 1-hour ascent to the summit. Once at Uhuru Peak, you have reached the highest point on Mount Kilimanjaro and the continent of Africa! From the summit, we begin our descent by continuing straight down to the Mweka Camp, stopping at Barafu for lunch. You may want gaiters and trekking poles for the loose gravel going down. We arrive at Mweka Camp and enjoy our last evening on the mountain.

Day 6: Mweka Camp to Mweka Gate, drive to Arusha or Moshi. Elevation (ft): 3090 m (10,150 ft) to 1680 m (5500 ft). Distance: 10km/6mi Hiking Time: 3-4 hours Habitat: Forest Meals: B After breakfast, we continue the descent down to the Mweka Park Gate to receive your summit certificates. At lower elevations, it can be wet and muddy. Gaiters and trekking poles will help. Shorts and t-shirts will probably be plenty to wear (keep rain gear and warmer clothing handy). We will be waiting for you at Mweka Gate to drive you back to your hotel in Arusha or Moshi. Included o    Park fees, o    Camp fees  o     Rescue fees o    18% VAT on tour fees & services which cost nearly 55% of the total cost charged. o    Transportation to & from the mountain gate o    Professional mountain guides, cooks and porters o    3 meals daily while on the mountain

Not Included o    Both National and International flights o    Medical insurance o    Tips to mountain crew o    Items of a personal nature o    Laundry Services o    A doctor for the group

[simplyspiritualyt]

🌟 Watch This To Change Your Life! Steve Harvey Motivational Speech

[serpentface]

There are three hyaenids found within the Imperial Wardi region- the hisippate, the highland hyena (kyniche na chennandi), and the scrub hyena (kyniche). (None are actually related to the king hyena).

The hisippate (name is close in meaning to 'stinking one', sometimes instead called '(wild) ant-dog' ('kulichin-wannaukoma')) is very distantly related to the other two. They are small, mostly solitary animals that sleep in burrows during the day and emerge to hunt at night. They are almost exclusively insectivorous, and their diet consists primarily of termites and ants that are lapped up with a long, strong tongue. The hisippate has a wide range, with their populations being highest in grassland and savanna regions with a high density of termites.

They are named for their foul smelling anal gland secretions, which are used to mark their territory and can be sprayed short distances to repel predators. Their highly visible black and white coat (which is erected in threat display) indicates them as not worth the trouble of eating. This is partly an honest advertisement of its chemical defenses, but may function as mimicry of a substantially more threatening native badger that can spray with great accuracy at distances of up to 10 feet (while the spray of the hitsippate is untargeted and only potent within a meter of the body).

The highland and scrub hyenas are the most numerous and successful predators within the region, with their populations having exploded in the past several centuries with the decline of the Wardi lion. Both live in matriarchal clan structures with strict dominance hierarchies, maintained not by individual size and strength but by highly complex networks of coalitions. All members of a clan can reproduce, and young inherit rank positions just beneath that of their mothers. Most males eventually disperse, entering into new clans at the very bottom of their hierarchy. They exhibit no obvious sexual dimorphism, and females often can only be differentiated from males by the shape of their pseudopenis.

The scrub hyena is most widely distributed and can be found throughout most of the region in a variety of lowland habitats, faring best in savannah and open grassland with high populations of grazing ungulates. This species is distinguished by well-defined spots and stripes and a sparse mane, though their coloration varies by individual and population, ranging from reddish to pale white-brown. Their clans can number upwards of a hundred individuals in the most prey-dense territories, though most are smaller.

The highland hyena is unique to the northwest of the region. As the name suggests, they have specialized into surviving in higher altitude climes, but can also be found in the remaining pockets of surrounding forest (and once had a much larger range across the former northern forests). Their spotting is often less visible than their lowland relatives, though their base coloration is similarly variable. Their clan sizes are substantially smaller than the scrub hyena, as they inhabit regions with much lower prey densities.

Both are closely related (whether they are subspecies or separate species would be subject of debate by taxonomists) and can produce viable young. Heavily hybridized populations are common where their ranges overlap. Scrub hyenas appear to breed more readily with dispersing male highland hyenas than the reverse.

Hyenas occupy an overall minor space in most of the Wardi cultural sphere. They are noted negatively as man/corpse eaters, but are generally regarded as intelligent and powerful predators and avoid the stigma attached to man-eating scavengers. In most cases they are not ascribed much significance in comparison to the venerated lion or the massive and intimidating king-hyena, mostly being relegated to a threat to livestock and potential danger to lone travelers.

Many urban areas in the province of Godsmouth (including the outer unwalled portions of the eponymous city) have unique practices of not only tolerating but actively inviting scrub hyenas into urban spaces. These urban hyena populations have been genetically semi-isolated from their wilder counterparts for several centuries. Rather than hunting large prey, they fill similar roles to feral dogs in the urban landscape as cleaners of refuse and killers of pests, and benefit from their species being culturally regarded as powerful predators rather than lowly scavengers. They notably predate on the considerably more reviled feral dogs, and keep their populations much lower than other parts of the region. Their role is regarded as both a physically and spiritually cleansing force, with their presence neutralizing polluting elements (while not being sacred in of itself).

The Godsmouth hyenas show little fear of humans compared to their wild relatives, though their activity peaks at nighttime hours to avoid close contact. They are sometimes raised from cubs to be fully tamed (though are not truly domesticated) and used as guards or to assist in hunting (Godsmouth's designated dog hunters notably have traditions of keeping hyenas). This practice is essentially exclusive to the province of Godsmouth- hyenas rarely establish semi-urban populations in other parts of the region, and those who do have considerably greater fear of humans, usually sneaking in under the cover of night to feed on scraps and fleeing from encounters.

The status of hyenas varies in the other groups native to the region. For example:

Hyenas have a generally favorable status to the Cholemdinae, who have traditionally reckoned them as highest among predators, noting their stamina and intelligence. Body parts of hyenas are ascribed the ability to increase the wearer's stamina, and amulets carved from hyena bones are often worn while persistence hunting. Children born while hyenas are heard crying are considered to be strong and very likely to survive infancy (and will often be given names referencing the animals). The apparent androgyny of hyenas is allegorically attributed to the creation story- the first beings were dual-sexed, and split into male and female halves as part of their punishment for the theft of fire from the sun. The hyena escaped this punishment by digging into the underworld to hide and getting only its once long, luxurious tail chopped off (which was sticking out from the hole).

((TANGENT: The South Wardi have more recent common cultural ancestry to the Cholemdinae than to most of the other groups assimilated into the collective Wardi nationality. The notion of hyenas once having long, flowing tails that got chopped off in some mishap still appears in South Wardi animal folktales))

They have a largely disfavorable reputation to the Hill Tribes, and are generally regarded as gluttonous and brutish in nature. The Highlands have a naturally lower density of wild ungulates, made far lower by most grazing pasture being occupied by livestock. This causes hyenas (and other large predators) to more frequently predate on domestic animals, and thus places them directly in conflict with herders (and also makes them common rabies vectors). They are readily culled when found in proximity to villages. Hyena pelts are generally considered worthless, and culled hyenas will often be fed whole to livestock guardian dogs and their pups in hopes of teaching them to be fearless towards the predators. Were-hyenas appear in folklore- among the southwestern Hill Tribes they are most commonly the accursed spirits of cannibals, while in the northeast they are malicious witches who learned secret arts of transformation and take on these forms to wreak havoc upon their enemies.

[sketchnskribbles]

A03 | Rectifying Fallacies

“Things have been far too quiet lately.” Ratchet mused in a low voice, with a quick suspicious look to the locked jet. “Save for our new unwanted resident, nothing out of sorts has happened in a good while.”

“They're biding their time.” Arcee agreed with a grim tone.

Bulkhead just looked plain antsy. Which went along with the thrum of anxiety that had been filtering through the air since obtaining their current prisoner. It was never a good thing to have bored soldiers itching for a fight in the same vicinity as an enemy captive.

Ratchet struggled to think of some tasks he could have them do for him. There was still that leak down in Corridor - C. They were probably also due for a quick stock check on their supplies. Decision made, he sent them off. They grumbled but complied. Leaving the main room back into the tentative peace it’d been in.

Or so Ratchet had thought.

A notification window popped up and interrupted his current task. It was Wheeljack requesting to be bridged to base. Withholding a groan, the medic inserted the command and pulled the lever. As he turned toward the bridge’s light in wait, Miko had dropped the eraser she’d been furiously using. Having finally gotten around to doing some of her homework, she struggled on figuring out the equations of her math class.

The eraser hit the floor at an awkward angle and the rubber flung itself out wide in the air. With hardly a thought, the exchange student flew after it. Her shoes squeaked against the hard ground below. Arms outstretched with hardly any notice to anything else.

Jack’s and Raf’s cries of warning were left unheard by her single-focused devotion to catching that eraser. She grinned when the pink rubber finally lost altitude in its arch and felt that she was successful in getting to the spot she needed to be to grab it out of the air.

Her legs slammed into something hard. Pain burst through her and the eraser only just brushed against her fingertips.

It began it's descent downwards… and Miko found herself going down with it. It was the in the next moment when her brain finally registered that she had hit into the railing and her momentum was taking herself over it. Down a deep drop.

Panic froze her limbs and took her voice, save for a shallow gasp as she found herself feet over head. In the next beat of her heart, she could hear all of the yells and the burst of movement around her.

In her line of vision, large gray hands swooped down in an attempt to catch her but only just missed by inches. Miko’s heart stuttered.

Everything had slowed down. Moving in time with her heartbeat. Which had become very loud to her ears. Her eyes blurred with water. Her brain simultaneously focused on the fact that she might just die, but also couldn’t find herself quite comprehending it.

Then all at once it seemed to click and found herself screaming and flailing. The air whistling in her ears.

Then she stopped.

A03 | Rectifying Fallacies

[time-being]

About the Blinken/Austin letter to Israel

Link: https://www.politico.com/news/2024/10/15/white-house-ultimatum-israeli-gaza-00183737

Summary: Secretary of State Blinken and Secretary of Defense Austin sent a letter to Israel that, on a naive reading, demands Israel stop committing genocide so openly and threatens to reduce US weapons deliveries if they don't comply.

It is a meaningless election stunt.

After providing over $20,000,000,000 in weapons to commit genocide, the Secretaries of State and Defense know exactly what Israel is doing with those bombs and planes, artillery shells and white phosphorus.

They waited until October to send this letter, and they didn't ask for a letter in response until after the US election. Israelis can read a calendar and understand that this is completely toothless.

Spokesman John Kirby was clear: the letter “was not meant as a threat”.

Kirby also talked about a previous letter sent in April and claims that was somehow a success.

But even Politico can see through this bullshit, as their article concludes:

It is unlikely, however, that the U.S. would make good on threats to withhold foreign military financing to Israel. Over the past year, Israel has defied U.S. ultimatums and experienced little punishment from its ally. Just this week, the U.S. also announced it would deploy a Terminal High Altitude Area Defense system to Israel (along with U.S. troops to operate it), providing a major upgrade to Israel’s defensive capabilities.

This is a couple of guys who know their bosses are losing the election, looking to shift the blame and pretending that a fucking letter is really important.

The Biden pledge: After providing over $20,000,000,000 in weapons, multiple UN vetoes, and legal pressure on the ICC and ICJ, they will also send 2 letters.

[bekolxeram]

Long sigh......

I've heard that one of the most problematic bnf from the other side of the fandom claimed on Tiktok that Tommy wouldn't be part of the emergency landing rescue because "the controls (of a helicopter and a jet airliner) are different". I know I made a whole thing out of Tommy being a helicopter pilot instead of a fixed wing one. (I even made up a sunshiny airplane pilot ex boyfriend for Tommy, that was fun while it lasted) I have no idea how that bnf makes the logical leap that if Tommy isn't physically solo flying that plane, then he won't be involved at all. He's still a firefighter working with aircrafts at an airport. Unless the writers for some reason don't want Tommy to be in the episodes at all and pull the "not on duty" card, it would actually make less sense for him not to be there.

You know the drill. Don't read further if the discussion of Tommy not being able to fly everything bothers you. Block the tag #aviation realism if this whole topic doesn't interest you. I've hesitated a lot whether I should post my thoughts on this, but I guess this is the last chance to speculate, so here goes nothing. This is my specs for Tommy's involvement in the plane disaster.

First, I want to clarify something. I never said Tommy wasn't on the plane in 2x14. If by flying that plane, you mean actually taking the pilot seat, grabbing the yoke and executing risky low altitude maneuvers over mountainous terrain, no, I don't think Tommy can do it. The thing is, operating an aircraft that size requires a whole team, up to 5 in this case. I can totally imagine Tommy onboard sitting behind the pilots, helping out with navigation or precise drop coordination.

It's possible, even common to transition from flying rotary to fixed wing. JetBlue and Frontier both provide rotor transition programs to veterans, I've also seen a former Army Blackhawk pilot now flies the C-130 for the Coast Guard. Training ex-military pilots to become commercial airliner pilots has a higher success rate and takes less time than training a regular civilian. But you see the problem, none of them have been working as an active firefighter for the past 20 years.

Let's cut to the chase, I don't think Tommy will be landing that plane. In the original film, they decide transferring an Air Force pilot into the crippled 747 is the only option, because they think woman dumb Nancy can't handle it. Aviation technology has come a very long way since the 70s. This MythBusters episode from 2007 proves that not only is it possible for a complete novice to land a jet airliner by following verbal instructions, modern planes are so advanced that they can practically land themselves.

Sure, there probably will be some major damages to the systems needed for a normal landing (landing gear, flaps, brakes, thrust reversers) rendering an autoland impossible, because drama. But then you run into the problem of where the hell is the Air Force. Last season, the Coast Guard was busy rescuing other ships stranded at sea so some LAFD firefighters had to steal a helicopter to search for a cruise ship that didn't call for help. This time, a passenger airliner without its flight crew has a very real possibility of crashing in a densely populated urban area, the whole incident is also reported live on TV news, how can they explain the absence of the Air Force? Even assuming no commercial pilots in the area, including the ex-military ones are willing to do such a dangerous stunt and tether into the cockpit from outside, what's stopping the AIr Force pilots?

I don't think Tommy will be the one instructing Athena through the landing either. You run into basically the same problem. There are plenty of flight instructors of that exact model of aircraft out there better suited for the job. Flying a modern airliner, especially an Airbus, is more like flying a computer than an actual plane. You need someone with intimate knowledge of the plane's flight control systems in order to talk a non-pilot through operating it.

I know, I know, I'm being a killjoy right now, I'm worse than the Tommy haters and I should shut the fuck up, but even if we're going 100% realistic, referring to real life aviation incidents of this scale (Yes, I'm talking about JetBlue 292 again), Tommy is especially going to be part of the rescue.

Real!LAFD deployed a few helicopters in the JetBlue sideway nose gear incident to monitor the airfield and to help coordinate ground personnel/equipment, with a couple more standing by on the ground in case anyone on the plane needed emergency medevac.

I think the first officer might need a chopper ride if they want to save his femoral artery.

In the same incident, a local news copter also helped survey the landing gear issue from the outside. Tommy's helicopter can do that as well.

It's getting too long, but I have a few out-of-universe reasons for why Tommy will likely not play a super major part in this plane disaster arc, I'll just speed through them: Tommy's not a main character when screen time is already tight for the mains (I'd prefer to see him more in later Buck centric eps), he's already saved the day last season, I think production has blown all their budget on the airplane sets, the new trucks and the CGI bees already that they can't fit a helicopter in. (Let alone to replicate the original pilot transferal scene, it was a real stunt, they really got an AIr Force helicopter to dangle a stuntman in front of a flying 747. It was dangerous and hella expensive)

I actually hope Tommy would be working on the ground this time, I would kill to see him working with Buck and the 118, and not in the sky doing his own thing.

[mayhemories]

Neteyam x reader (She/her pronouns)

Huddling for warmth trope please!

If You Wanted A Cuddle, You Could Have Asked

Uh-oh, I took 'huddling' and ran with it... I hope you're still satisfied with my interpretation of this trope, wanted to make it a little different but really could've gone a million different ways with this one! I have been loving all of the requests that have been sent, keep sending them they provide me with so much joy and purpose. <3

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: This fluff gets a lil spicy, !!no minors!! 

Words: 1.2k

Author’s Notes: 

Neteyam is 21, reader is 21. Lo’ak and Kiri are roughly 20ish. I’m gonna estimate Tuk is 7 or 8?

Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!

Taglist: @myheartfollower @luvlykrispy

Read below the cut:

You tossed and turned in your sleeping hammock. The rains had come early to you mountain home. Usually, the forest was warm, sometimes humid. But since moving to High Camp the altitude and rain came together to create something you never really felt bred for, the cold. 

You were shivering, your teeth chattering against one another in rapid succession. You felt your nose and the tips of your ears begining to burn, the pain sizzling into numbness, usually a comforting feeling to you when you were high in the sky, soaring with your ikran. But now, you just felt ill. You weren’t really one to normally care about clothes, but you were thankful for the shawl Kiri had gifted you earlier in the evening, pulling it tighter around your shoulders, bringing your knees as far as they could to your chest, in fetal position. 

Yet warmth never found you. 

You opened your eyes, groaning as you rolled onto your back, looking up at the waxed canvas and leather that built your tent. This time of year the sky often held the three moons, their light beautiful and full, causing Pandora’s bioluminescence to glow brighter, for longer. The waxed canvas was fantastic at keeping the light out at night.

Usually. 

You quickly held your hands up to your face, shivering as you did so, hands shaking ever so slightly. You could see them perfectly, like it was the middle of the day. It was far too bright in here, you could never see your hands usually. 

Your head whipped around, sitting up in your hammock you tried to find where the light was coming from. 

Right above your door, a perfect circle was cut into the waxed canvas, the moonlight flooding in, brining all the cold air with it. It would be an easy fix in the morning, just a small little patch to cover it. It wasn’t unusual for the canvas to wear or damage, or even for the leather to rip over time. But this was a perfect little hole. Like someone had done surgery on your tent to let all the cold air in and to flush you out. 

You knew it was late but you were so inconceivabley angry that someone had messed with your wall, and, that you were cold. So, you slipped out of your hammock, your aching legs hitting the ground and walked to the only person that could make you feel better about both things. 

Slipping into the Sully’s tent at night wasn’t that uncommon for you, you would always long to see your friends, and you knew Jake and Neytiri didn’t mind waking up to you being in their home, in fact they encouraged sleepovers your whole childhood, that did not fade into your adulthood. What was surprising, however, was that the Sully’s were asleep in front of their firepit that Neytiri used for cooking. They obviously had felt the cold too, despite their tent not being sabotaged. Jake laid near the door, Neytiri’s head on his chest and little Tuk asleep on his stomach. Lo’ak was only an arms length away from Neytriri laying on his back, long lanky arms strewn across his face. You stifled a laugh when you noticed Kiri, using Lo’ak’s ankles as a pillow, green shawl wrapped tightly around her, she laid like you had only moments ago, fetal, craving warmth.

Neteyam laid on the other side of the open room, furthest away from the fire, but with a woven blanket Kiri had made him for his most recent nameday. He laid with plenty of room, and conveniently, plenty of blanket. 

Neteyam had never officially courted you, or even expressed the want, or any thoughts about you at all really. 

But in all your childhood sleepovers, until now, Neteyam always left space for you, you always found eachother anyway. Even if you started of opposite sides of the room, you knew that you would end up wrapped in his thick arms, head on his chest, legs wrapped up in one another.

There was one night, last summer when you awoke in the middle of the night, Neteyam spooning you, as you so often did, but his tail had wrapped itself around your thigh. You had never felt so seen as you did that night. 

You made quick work of crawling under the blanket. You laid on your side, facing away from him, yet his relaxed features did not leave your mind. You knew you were freezing, you refrained from touching him, but his radiating heat helped nonetheless. 

You sighed, deeply. It felt so right being here like this, with him. You did not want to think about when you would inevitably find this space filled by another, for now, Neteyam had no lover, and the space was yours. 

Neteyam stirred, pulling you by the waist to be close to him, entrapping you there with his heavy arm across your abdomen. His hot breath fanned out across the shell of your ear. Your ear flicked back and forth, adjusting to the warmth and the sensitive sensation. 

“You are so cold, ma (y/n).” Neteyam whispered, his voice husky with sleep. You couldn’t help but clench your thighs to relieve some tension. “Come, we can huddle together for warmth.” Neteyam pushed his body closer to yours, entangling your legs, and wrapping his other arm under your neck. 

This was everything you wanted, but you were too hot for all the wrong reasons. You could feel Neteyam in every intimate way along your back and behind. His breath fanned over your ear and down your face, remnants of the intimacy causing goosebumps to rise on your exposed neck. 

“There was a hole in my tent.” You whispered softly to the boy nearly asleep behind you. Surely, providing context to your late night sleepover would make the whole thing more normal. 

“I know, ma (y/n).” The ghost like touch of Neteyam’s soft lips found your hair line, leaving nothing but the imagination of a kiss in its wake. “How else would I have assurance that you would come to find me in the middle of the night? Happens a lot less often these days.” You felt your stomach drop and flip simultaneously at Neteyam’s sleepy confession. You knew that this was something probably worth getting angry over, but as Neteyam’s tail wrapped around your thigh, and one of his hands ghosted over the mound of your breast, and his lips left small, barely-there kisses down the side of your face and neck, you couldn’t find it in you to be angry. 

He made you feel a lot of things in that moment, across your entire body, mind and soul. But angry was not one of them.

“I will patch it tomorrow morning, I promise.” Neteyam said softly, as his tail made its way up and down your thigh, his strong thumb rubbing circles into your hip bone. 

“I would surely hope so,” You whispered, turning your head, your lips a hairsbreadth apart. “If you wanted a cuddle, you could’ve asked Neteyam.” His lips were as warm as what you always had pictured them to be. Soft, but his kiss was not. His tongue explored your mouth, and though you tried to assert dominance you knew you would let this boy ruin you. He stifled your moan with his own mouth, though realising what he coaxed from you he pulled away, smiling in the firelight. 

“I want to do so much more than just cuddle. But this is for warmth, and warmth only.” His smile and golden eyes were always going to be enough for you to feel warmth. It did not hurt that his body was there too.

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Starlight - Part 16

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 4.1k

warning; mentions of death, fight.

notes; Helloooo, so last chapter until the epilogue :((( Honestly I never thought that people would actually enjoy whatever i could write but thank you guys so much for being here until the end of this story. I'm leaving you here to enjoy this part, see you soon for the epilogue, bisous bisous <333

here is the link for part 15 or epilogue

---

The sun was beginning to set on your last day in the Day Court, casting a warm golden light over the palace as you prepared to leave. The negotiations had been a success, and the alliance between the Night and Day Courts was now firmly in place. As you made your way through the opulent halls of Helion’s palace, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. This trip had been more than just a diplomatic mission; it had been a personal victory, a step forward in the new life you were building.

Before you could reach the exit, however, Helion himself appeared, his usual charming smile in place as he approached you.

“Y/N,” he greeted, his voice smooth as silk. “I see you’re about to depart. I wanted to catch you before you left.”

You smiled warmly at the High Lord, appreciating his hospitality and the successful outcome of your negotiations. “Thank you for everything, Helion. It’s been a productive and enjoyable visit.”

He chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned in slightly. “I’m glad to hear it. And, of course, I must remind you that my previous offer still stands. There’s always a place for you here, as more than just an emissary.”

The mischievous tone in his voice was unmistakable, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head in amusement. Helion had made a similar proposition the last time you were here—an invitation to join his court as one of his partners, an offer that was as flattering as it was surprising.

“Helion,” you replied with a smile, “as tempting as your offer might be, I’m afraid I must decline once again. My place is in the Night Court.”

Helion’s grin widened, but there was no real disappointment in his eyes—only a fondness that spoke of genuine respect. “I had to try, didn’t I? But I suppose Azriel would have my head if I pursued it any further.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “He might indeed.”

With a final smile and a nod of farewell, you turned to leave the palace. As you made your way out, Azriel was waiting for you, his wings tucked neatly behind him, his expression curious.

“What was that about?” he asked as the two of you began walking toward the edge of the palace grounds, where you would take flight back to the Night Court.

You hesitated for a moment, wondering how to phrase it without making it awkward. Finally, you decided to be straightforward. “Helion… made an offer the last time I was here. He asked if I wanted to live in the Day Court and become one of his, um, partners.”

Azriel’s eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. “He did?”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yes, he did. But I turned him down, obviously. My place is with you, Azriel, in the Night Court.”

A faint flush of possessiveness crossed Azriel’s face, but it was quickly replaced by a more relaxed expression as he nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. Helion may be charming, but he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

You laughed softly, feeling the warmth of his words. The two of you took to the skies shortly after, Azriel’s strong wings carrying you both high above the Day Court, the landscape below shrinking as you gained altitude.

As you flew, the air grew cooler, and the sun dipped lower on the horizon. The journey was peaceful at first, the two of you flying side by side in comfortable silence. But as you neared the border between the Day and Night Courts, Azriel suggested taking a brief rest.

You landed in a small clearing, surrounded by tall trees and the distant sound of running water. The silence of the forest was a stark contrast to the opulence of Helion’s palace, but it was a welcome change. You both sat down on a fallen log, catching your breath and enjoying the quiet.

But the peace was shattered in an instant.

A sudden rustle in the trees caught your attention, and before you could react, an arrow whizzed through the air, narrowly missing your shoulder. You jerked back, adrenaline surging through you as Azriel’s wings flared protectively, his shadows immediately coiling around you.

“Get down!” Azriel barked, his voice sharp with command.

You dropped to the ground, your heart pounding as you scanned the trees for the source of the attack. Azriel was already moving, his shadows spreading out like tendrils, searching for the assailant. But the next arrow that came was aimed directly at Azriel, and he barely dodged it in time, the tip grazing his arm.

The sight of blood on Azriel’s skin sent a wave of fury through you. And then, you saw him—the figure emerging from the shadows of the trees, his bow drawn, his face twisted in a sneer that made your blood run cold.

It was him. The man who had killed Alex. The man who had shattered your world.

Recognition hit you like a physical blow, and the memories you had tried so hard to bury came rushing back—Alex’s lifeless body, the blood, the helplessness you had felt in that moment. But now, there was something else—a burning rage that ignited in your chest, fueling your resolve.

Azriel’s gaze snapped to you, his eyes filled with concern as he saw the recognition in your expression. “Y/N…?”

“He’s the one,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. “He’s the one who killed Alex.”

Azriel’s expression hardened instantly, his shadows curling around him like living armor. “Stay behind me,” he commanded, his voice cold and sharp.

But you couldn’t just stand there and watch. You had trained for years, honed your skills, and even without your powers, you were a force to be reckoned with. Ignoring his command, you drew your own blade, the familiar weight comforting in your hand.

The man who had killed Alex stepped forward from the shadows, his sneer growing as he saw the defiance in your eyes. He was taller and broader than you remembered, his presence exuding malice. His eyes flicked to Azriel, then back to you, a cruel smile spreading across his face.

“So, the little blacksmith thinks she can take me on?” His voice dripped with contempt. “You were nothing then, and you’re nothing now.”

Rage flared in your chest, but you forced yourself to stay calm, to focus. “You took everything from me,” you said, your voice steady. “I won’t let you do it again.”

He laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Without warning, he lunged at you, his blade flashing in the dim light. You moved quickly, sidestepping his attack and bringing your own blade up to meet his. The clash of metal rang out through the clearing as your weapons collided, sparks flying.

Azriel was at your side in an instant, his own sword a blur as he parried an attack from another assailant. The two of you fought back to back, a seamless dance of steel and shadows as you defended each other. Despite the chaos, there was a strange rhythm to your movements, a sense of unity that made you stronger together.

But the man wasn’t finished. He pressed forward, his attacks relentless, each strike aimed to kill. You blocked, parried, and countered, your movements fluid but desperate. He was strong, stronger than you had anticipated, and each blow he landed sent a shockwave through your arms.

“Is this all you’ve got?” he taunted, his blade coming dangerously close to your throat.

You gritted your teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

He snarled, his next attack a vicious swing that you barely managed to deflect. The force of it sent you stumbling back, your feet skidding on the forest floor. He saw his opening and lunged, his blade aimed straight for your heart.

But Azriel was faster. With a powerful beat of his wings, he knocked the man off balance, his sword slashing across his arm. The man cried out in pain, his attack faltering as blood spilled from the wound.

“You’re not alone,” Azriel said, his voice a low growl as he stood protectively in front of you. His shadows twisted and coiled around him, ready to strike at any moment.

But the man’s eyes glinted with something dark, something malicious. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, twisted dagger—its blade dark and dripping with a substance that made your blood run cold.

“Let’s see how you handle this,” he hissed, and with a swift motion, he hurled the dagger straight at you.

Time seemed to slow. You saw the dagger flying through the air, its deadly tip aimed directly at you. But before you could react, before you could even raise your blade to deflect it, Azriel was there.

With a burst of speed, he threw himself in front of you, his wings wrapping around you in a protective cocoon. The dagger struck him, the poisoned blade sinking deep into his side. Azriel gasped, the pain evident in his eyes, but he didn’t falter. He held you close, shielding you from further harm.

“Azriel!” you cried out, your voice filled with panic as you felt his grip tighten around you.

“I’m fine,” he managed to say through gritted teeth, though you could see the pain etched on his face.

But the man wasn’t done. He lunged forward, his sword raised to finish the job. You knew you couldn’t let him win—not after everything he had taken from you. With a surge of adrenaline, you broke free from Azriel’s protective embrace, your blade flashing as you met the man’s attack head-on.

The clash of metal echoed through the clearing as you fought with everything you had. The man’s strength was overwhelming, but you were driven by something more powerful—a need for justice, for vengeance, for closure. You fought with precision, every move calculated, every strike purposeful.

But then, with a sudden, brutal twist, the man disarmed you, sending your blade flying from your hand. He smiled, cruel and victorious, as he raised his sword to strike you down.

In that split second, everything seemed to slow. You saw the blade descending toward you, and you knew you couldn’t avoid it. But just as the sword was about to connect, something inside you shifted. The pain, the loss, the anger—all of it erupted into a single, overwhelming force.

Blue flames exploded from your body, engulfing the man in a wave of fire. He screamed, his sword clattering to the ground as he stumbled back, the flames consuming him. You felt the power surging through you, uncontrolled, untamed, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was finally being brought to justice.

Azriel, struggling to stay on his feet, watched in awe as the flames roared around you. Even in his weakened state, he could see that this was something different—something more than just the return of your powers.

But then, as suddenly as they had appeared, the flames flickered and died, leaving you standing there, gasping for breath. The man was gone, reduced to ash by the sheer force of your power.

You collapsed to your knees, the exhaustion hitting you like a tidal wave. Azriel was at your side in an instant, despite his own injuries, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close.

“It’s over,” he whispered, his voice shaking with relief. “It’s finally over.”

But you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. The weight of what had just happened, of what you had just done, was too much to bear. You buried your face in Azriel’s chest, letting the tears fall as he held you close, his wings encircling you protectively.

For a long time, neither of you moved. You just stayed there, holding onto each other as the night deepened around you, the stars above bearing silent witness to the end of your long and painful journey.

And as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, you knew that you were no longer the same person you had been when this journey began. You were stronger, more powerful, and ready to face whatever came next—together.

For now, though, you were safe. You were together. And that was enough.

The night was still and quiet, the fire you and Azriel had set crackling softly as you both slept under the canopy of stars. But something stirred deep within you, pulling you from the comfort of sleep, from the warmth of Azriel’s arms. You woke with a start, a strange sensation fluttering in your chest—an echo of the past, of a time when you were just a child, lost and frightened in the woods, when a light fell from the sky and changed everything.

The feeling was overwhelming, almost like a call, and you couldn’t ignore it. Slowly, you slipped out from under Azriel’s arm, careful not to wake him as you stood and made your way into the forest. The trees seemed to part for you, the path ahead illuminated by the soft glow of starlight filtering through the branches above. There was something different about the night, something almost magical. The stars, usually fixed in their places, appeared to be moving, guiding you toward something—toward someone.

Azriel stirred behind you, waking as he felt your absence. He sat up, his eyes searching for you in the darkness, his voice low and filled with concern. “Y/N? Where are you going?”

But you didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your focus was entirely on the pull that was leading you deeper into the forest, a pull that felt familiar and yet strange, like a forgotten memory resurfacing after so many years. You moved forward, your feet carrying you with a purpose you didn’t fully understand but couldn’t resist.

Azriel got up and followed you, his shadows wrapping around him protectively as he trailed behind, his gaze fixed on your form moving through the trees. He didn’t call out to you again, sensing that whatever was happening was beyond his understanding, something deeply personal, something you needed to face on your own. But he was there, watching over you, ready to step in if you needed him.

The stars above continued to shift, forming patterns in the sky that seemed to guide you toward a clearing up ahead. And then you saw it—a soft, glowing light, just as you remembered it from that night so long ago. The same light that had once fallen from the sky, that had sought you out, asking for your help when you were just a scared child.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached it, your breath catching in your throat as the light grew brighter, more defined. You reached out a hand, trembling as your fingers brushed against the glowing form. And as you did, the light began to shift, to change, taking on a form that made your breath catch in your throat.

It was the form of a boy—no longer the small, curious light, but the figure of Alex. The sight of him, so familiar and yet so different, made your heart ache with a longing you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel since the day he died.

“Alex…” you whispered, your voice breaking as you took a step closer, your hand reaching out toward him.

The figure smiled softly, a look of deep affection in his eyes. “I never wanted to leave you, Nana.”

The sound of his voice, that old nickname, was enough to make tears well up in your eyes. You took another step, your fingers brushing against his cheek, but there was no warmth, only the soft glow of the light that had taken his shape.

“I tried to fight it,” Alex continued, his voice tinged with regret. “I didn’t want to leave your side, but… it was time. It was time for me to go, but I couldn’t leave without helping you one last time.”

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. “What do you mean, Alex?”

He looked down, as if gathering his thoughts, before meeting your gaze again. “I knew you needed your powers back. I knew you needed to face the man who took everything from you, from us. I couldn’t fight him on my own, but I could lead him to you, to where you would find the strength to defeat him, to reclaim what was yours.”

The tears spilled over, and you reached out, as if you could hold him, as if you could bring him back to life with your touch. “I didn’t want to lose you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m so sorry, Alex… I’m so sorry…”

He shook his head, his expression softening with a sad smile. “Don’t be sorry, Nana. You gave me everything. You were my family, my home. I never wanted to leave you, but… it was time. And I’m glad I could see you one last time.”

You felt a sob rise in your throat, but you forced it down, not wanting to waste a single moment of this fleeting encounter. “I miss you so much,” you choked out, your hand still hovering near his face, wishing you could feel the warmth of his skin one last time.

“I know,” Alex replied, his voice gentle. “But you’re not alone, Nana. You have a new family now, people who love you, who will protect you. And you have Azriel. He’ll take care of you.”

At the mention of Azriel, you glanced over your shoulder, finding him standing just at the edge of the clearing, his expression unreadable as he watched the exchange. His presence was a comfort, a reminder that even in this surreal moment, you weren’t alone.

Alex’s figure began to flicker, the light growing fainter as he spoke again. “I’m proud of you, Nana. You’ve become everything I knew you could be. And now, it’s time for me to go. But I’ll always be with you… in here.” He placed a hand over your heart, a gesture you couldn’t feel, but the meaning was clear.

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you whispered, “I love you, Alex.”

He smiled one last time, a look of peace in his eyes. “I love you too, Nana.”

And with that, the light that had taken his form began to fade, growing dimmer until it was nothing more than a soft glow in the air, and then… it was gone.

You stood there, staring at the empty space where he had been, your heart aching with both sorrow and a strange sense of closure. The forest was silent again, the stars above returning to their usual places in the sky, as if the moment had never happened.

But it had happened, and it had changed something deep within you.

Azriel stepped forward, his footsteps soft as he approached you. He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask for an explanation. Instead, he simply wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. You buried your face in his chest, the tears finally spilling over as you let yourself grieve, let yourself feel the loss and the love and the bittersweet relief that Alex was at peace.

Azriel held you close, his presence steady and reassuring as you cried, his hands soothing as they ran through your hair. He didn’t ask for details, didn’t press you for answers. He simply let you feel, let you mourn, and when the tears finally slowed, he whispered softly, “I’m here, Y/N. I’m here.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-streaked cheeks, your voice shaky but resolute. “I know… and I’m so grateful for that.”

Azriel wiped away a stray tear with his thumb, his gaze filled with a deep, unwavering love. “You’re not alone, and you never will be. I promise.”

With a final glance at the spot where Alex had stood, you took a deep breath, finding strength in Azriel’s words, in his embrace. You knew that the pain would always be there, a scar on your heart, but you also knew that you had the strength to move forward, to carry on.

As you rested in Azriel's arms, finding solace in his warmth, something unexpected began to happen. Your hair, which had been dampened by the night’s dew and your tears, suddenly lifted, as if caught in an invisible breeze. You both froze, eyes wide with surprise as small, ethereal flames—blue and flickering like the softest candlelight—began to emerge from your skin, dancing along your arms and shoulders.

The blue fire, your fire, was back.

Azriel looked down at you, awe and concern mingling in his expression. “Y/N… your powers…”

You nodded, barely able to believe it yourself. You had felt this once before, long ago when you were just a child, when that mysterious light had first found you and changed your life. And now, after everything you had lost and regained, the power was returning, the flames of the phoenix rekindling within you.

The realization hit you like a wave, bringing with it a sense of clarity and purpose. You knew what this meant, knew what needed to happen next.

Without a word, you reached out and grabbed Azriel’s hand, your grip firm yet gentle. “Let’s go,” you whispered, your voice filled with quiet determination. “Let’s fly together.”

Azriel looked at you, confusion flickering in his eyes, but there was also trust—complete and unwavering trust. He nodded, his wings flexing in readiness, though he still didn’t fully understand what was happening.

But then, as if in response to your unspoken command, the blue flames on your body flared brighter, spreading out from your back in a sudden, powerful surge. They formed into wings—majestic, blazing wings of blue fire that extended behind you, their glow illuminating the dark forest around you. They were the wings of the phoenix, a symbol of rebirth, of power reclaimed.

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the transformation, the sight of you standing there, your flames burning bright, filling him with a mixture of awe and pride. You weren’t just Y/N anymore—you were something more, something incredible.

With a powerful beat of your flaming wings, you lifted off the ground, rising into the night sky. Azriel followed instantly, his powerful Illyrian wings carrying him up to meet you, his shadows swirling around him protectively. The two of you soared higher and higher, leaving the forest below, until you were both surrounded by nothing but the endless night and the stars that watched over you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You simply flew, side by side, your flames and his shadows mingling in the cool air. The world below seemed distant, the troubles and sorrows that had weighed you down now far behind. Up here, it was just the two of you, free and unburdened.

Azriel looked over at you, his eyes softening as he took in the sight of you in your full power, your flames glowing with an ethereal beauty that took his breath away. “You’re… incredible,” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration and love.

You turned to him, a soft smile playing on your lips as you reached out, your hand finding his in the darkness. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Az.”

He squeezed your hand, his touch grounding you even as you soared through the sky. “You’ve always had this power, Y/N. I’m just glad I get to see you embrace it.”

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth that went beyond the fire burning in your veins. The bond between you thrummed with a quiet, deep connection, a love that was stronger than any magic.

The two of you flew together, circling through the sky, your wings creating trails of fire and shadow that intertwined, dancing across the stars. It was a moment of pure freedom, a release from all the pain and hardship you had endured. Up here, in the night sky, with Azriel by your side, you felt truly alive, truly yourself.

After a while, you slowed, hovering in the air as you looked out over the horizon. The stars seemed to shine brighter, their light reflecting off the blue flames of your wings. You turned to Azriel, your heart full, your voice soft as you spoke.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes locked with his. “For everything.”

Azriel smiled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he held your hand. “I’m with you, always. No matter what.”

With a final, powerful beat of your wings, you soared higher, Azriel right beside you, your hearts beating in unison as you flew together into the night, leaving the past behind and embracing the future that awaited you both.

The night was yours, and as you flew together, flames and shadows intertwined, you knew that whatever came next, you would face it together.

---

tag list: @annamariereads16 @hanatsuki-hime @elsie-bells @shizukestar @rose-girls-world @brit-broskis-cole-fanfic @faridathefairy @elsie-bells @faridathefairy @wolfbc97 @rcarbo1 @kitsunetori @hufflepuff-pa55 @proclivity-for-fantasy-97 @sometimeseverythingsucks @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @lilah-asteria @fightmedraco @atomictyphoonkitten @fightmedraco

don't hesitate to comment if you want to be added to the tag list ;)))

[anna-the-undertaker]

Rebirth

"Human DNA contains all the necessary genes to produce feathers - it's merely a matter of selective activation."

I may have gone a little overboard with this, but I saw this on a Twitter meme, and it got me thinking:

The human body readily responds to changing environmental stresses in a variety of biological and cultural ways. We can acclimatize to a wide range of temperature and humidity. When traveling to high altitudes, our bodies adjust so that our cells still receive sufficient oxygen. We also are constantly responding in physiological ways to internal and external stresses such as bacterial and viral infections, air and water pollution, dietary imbalance, and overcrowding. This ability to rapidly adapt to varying environmental conditions has made it possible for us to survive in most regions of the world. We live successfully in humid tropical forests, harsh deserts, arctic wastelands, and even densely populated cities with considerable amounts of pollution. Most other animal and plant species are restricted to one or relatively few environments by their more limited adaptability.

When an environmental stress is constant and lasts for many generations, successful adaptation may develop through biological evolution. Those individuals who inherit a trait that offers an advantage in responding to particular stresses are more likely to survive longer and pass on more of their genes to the next generation.

Genetic change in response to environmental stresses usually takes many generations to become widespread in a population. Fortunately, we also have other ways of responding more quickly as individuals during our own lifetime. The word adjustments is used here to refer to these shorter term physiological changes that are not inheritable. The word adaptations is reserved for inheritable genetic changes developed in a population over a long period of time.

One of the more powerful types of adjustments to environmental stresses is a change in growth patterns and development. This occurs in childhood and typically results in anatomical and/or physiological changes that are mostly irreversible in adulthood. Such permanent changes are referred to as developmental adjustment or developmental acclimatization.

This led me down a rabbit hole on how a human would be affected while in contact with the Devildom and its inhabitants and how MC differs from them. Excluding Solomon as his circumstances are much more complex.

For a normal human, the risks from exposure are mainly focused on their psyche, as the brothers' sins bleed from them almost uncontrollably, and its mostly the same for other demons in the Devildom and the Devildom itself. So, as long as the human stays vigilant, they would be able to scrape by with only minor affects from the exposure. Their bodies wouldn't change, and even if they did, it wouldn't be apparent in them, but in their offspring and further descendents.

MC, however, is not a normal human. For the most part, they are immune to the affects of the sins due to their angelic heritage. But I can imagine that there would still be some results from being near them long term.

Human beings are imitative generalists. We can immediately imitate a wide range of behaviors with great facility, whether they be vocal maneuvers, body postures, or actions on objects.

So it's likely that MC would eventually start imitating some of the brothers' habits after so long. And in so duing, succumbing, more often than not, to their sins, changing them even more than before.

Which brings me to this:

MC, after being in the Devildom for so long and in contact with all these supernatural beings, begins to adapt to the environment due to their angelic heritage, exposure to magic, and close proximity to the brothers, along with their pacts.

As time passes, they begin to feel a slight change in their back and skull. They can feel the skin begin to stretch, an itch they can't seem to be free of. An ache settles there as their bones begin to change, and large lumps form there, the skin turning a bright red due to irritation.

Their diet changes, too. Foods they weren't able to eat before because of nasty side affects from human consumption no longer ail them. They become much more tempting.

Strong magic no longer makes them feel sick. Before, long exposure made their pulse quicken, head throb, stomach churn, and now its barely even a tickle. A slight sensation, like a puff of breath against their skin.

Their physical strength becomes much stronger. They break things with much more ease now. Pencils, toothbrushes, cups. All things that are imprented into their muscle memory become much harder to use. Things that were supposed to be too heavy for humans feel much lighter.

The others don't seem to notice. Assuming MCs discomfort is due to them being a human in their habitat. Neither Solomon nor the angels notice either for the same reason. Diavolo and Barbatos are the same.

They continue to do as they have done from the start. Bringing MC small comforts to help them survive. Basic necessities that humans require. They make sure that the sun lamp in MC's room stays functioning. They have human foods in stock. Medication should MC need it. All of their needs and wants are met with utmost care from the beings that love them so deeply.

MC says nothing and hides it, becoming more distant. Confused and trying to convince themself that this is but a passing thing. Its not the first time something weird or painful has happened to them in all their years being in the devildom.

That is until a blood curdling scream rips through the HoL in the middle of the night, a painful sound akin to that of a banshee, snatching all the inhabitants away from what occupied their attention.

They know that voice and are all scrambling to get to them.

Mammon arrives first, already in his demon form, being the quickest of the brothers and bursts through MCs door with no regard to the fact that he turned it to splinters. He is snarling, ready to protect MC, but the scene before him makes him freeze.

MC is on the floor, on their hands and knees. Eyes screwed shut as their face twists with excruciating pain. More screams pushing past their lips, each one with more ferocity. Their covers had been pulled along with them as if they had fallen out of bed.

The smell of blood hits him like a punch to the gut. MC was covered in it. Their sleep shirt drenched in the red liquid. Its slides down their face with no intention slowing.

It brings back awful memories that he never wants to remember. Their body cradled in his arms as he pleaded for them to stay awake and stay with him after Belphie threw them over the railing.

The ringing of their screams in his ears shakes him out of his stuper, and he is at their side in seconds, his hands hovering over them, unsure whether or not he should touch them since they look to be in so much pain.

He has no idea what to do, and before he knows it, he's sobbing. Screaming for his older brother.

"Lucifer! Lucifer, help!"

The eldest was a blur of black as he rushed in. His wings and horns on full display. His red eyes practically bulging from their sockets at what he found. But he was quick to hide it.

"What happened?!" He snapped.

Mammons mouth worked to form words but could barely get them out between his sobbing breathes, "I-I don't... I found them like this and..."

There was no histation in Lucifers stride as he dropped down to one knee next to them. His hand came to softly rest on MCs shoulder to get them to look at him, but her scream of pain at the contact made him jerk it away. He gently cradled their face after that and noticed that their skin was hotter than humans should ever be. He knew enough to know that if they didn't act fast, MCs organs would begin shutting down. However, the eldest was not adept in the knowledge of human physiology and was internally berating himself for it.

"Satan!" He yelled.

The fourth born was already hot on their heels before his name could leave the mans mouth, with the rest of them not far behind.

Deja Vu for all of them. Reliving that fateful night from years long passed.

The blondes eyes scrunched together as he ran to them, leaving the others to stare in horror from the doorway.

"Their temperature is too high. We need to cool them off somehow." Lucifer said, his fist balled at his side, knuckles white from fighting off his pride and his worry.

"We need to get them into an ice bath," Satan said, the back of his hand gently lingering on MCs cheek, but when the others made no attempt to move, he snapped. "NOW!"

They scattered, but Lucifer and Mammon remained.

"We need to stop the bleeding too," he continued. "With their temperature so high, medication won't work. Their body will burn it off before it can help."

Satans voice softened, "MC, we need to see where the blood is coming from. Where does it hurt?"

MCs chest heaved, their breathes coming sharp and fast, "b-back.... he-head"

"I'm going to remove your shirt, okay?"

Satan nodded for Lucifer to begin examining their head while he began ripping away the shirt as gently as possible, paying little mind to MCs exposed form.

Satans breath stopped at what he saw, eyes wide. Six jagged tears lined their spine. Hollowed bones petruding through the exposed muscle. Strips of flesh hung over their sides, and each breath they took seemed to tear at it more.

Lucifers reaction was the same. The skin on MCs forehead had split, leaving bleached white mounds of bone in its wake. And when he looked up to see Satans face twisted with emotion, his eyes fell to the mangled flex.

Mammons sobbing intensified at the sight. What are they supposed to do? None of this was right. What is happening to MC? Why? Why, why, why, why, why, why?

MCs screams returned, and they fell to the floor in agony, reaching out to the men in front of them and latching on to them. The muscles in their back flexed, and the hollow bones pushed out further.

Asmo reapeared, "Its ready-" he gasped. His eyes fell to MCs crumbled form, and his hands covered his mouth just as Levi, Beel, and Belphie arrived.

Levi was already crying. Worrying over his best friend. But now it was so much worse. What was happening? How is he supposed to help? He wants to desperately, but has no idea what to do.

Beel was the same. He's hates seeing the people he loves more than anything in so much pain. His strength has no use in this situation, and it pains him. This is not a battle he can win.

Belphie is still as a statue. His mind racing, feet frozen in place, unable to look away. Was this what my brothers felt that time? This fear that seeps into his stomach is the same fear and agony that he felt when Lilith died. Not again, not again, not again.

"MC can you stand?" Lucifer asks.

"No," MC wailed. "Hurts too much.... can't move. Please make it stop! I can't-"

Their screams turned to agonizing sobs.

"Belphie, we need you to put them to sleep." Lucifer commanded.

Belphie did not move. He barely heard him speak.

"Belphie!" Mammon yelled.

He still did not move. Caught in the well of his own misery and regret.

MCs voice broke through, "Belphie, please!"

Belphie was shoved forward by Levi before his feet began to move on their own. Hesitant hands reached for MC, his thumbs brushing over their eyelids until they closed completely, and they fell limp into Lucifers arms.

Lucifer called Diavolo to let him know of the situation. They did their best to keep everything in order while waiting on MC to recover. Weeks passed, and the Prince and Barbatos began to visit the HoL daily to check on MCs progress.

They treated MCs wounds as best they could, even bringing Simeon and Solomon to try and help as well, with Luke sending baked treats he made for MC. The angels magic did little to help as the bones would tear the wound open anew as it continued to grow even larger with flesh new beginning to form around it.

None of them had ever seen this before. Even Solomon was at a loss. Angelic healing magic was the strongest in all three realms, and it wasn't working. Human medicine wasn't helping, and neither was demonic magic. So, the sorcerer turned to experiments and research. Pilfering through all his old tomes and notes. Taking viles of MCs blood for testing. Satan helped him with his search as well, staying awake for days on end.

Weeks turned to months, and Belphie took to staying in MCs room in order to keep them in a state of comatose to help them endure the pain, only allowing them to be awake to eat whatever food his twin brought for them. Beel had taken to being their bodyguard when the others weren't around.

Mammon came and went. Bringing with him items he believed might make MC feel better, but he wouldn't stay for long. It hurt him too much to see MC in this state. While he was away, he spent his time searching, bribing, and threatening others to find a solution. Witches or other demons, it made no difference to him. He would pay any price.

For a while, Levi stayed locked up in his room. Feeling as though he would just get in the way. But it wasn't long before he couldn't stand not having his best friend there with him. So he began visiting them, even when they weren't awake. Talking to their sleeping form about whatever game or anime he was currently fixated on until his rambling turned to pleading for them to get better.

Asmo had declared himself MC's nurse. Washing their hair and body, cleaning their wounds, and using special creams and oinments to help with swelling and scarring. He could often be found sitting by their bed holding their hand in his lap as he whispered compliments to them. His smile unaltering even if it never reached his eyes.

Lucifer came late in the night, letting Belphie and Beel leave to get true rest, and he would just sit in silence as he watched their breaths rise and fall. And when he knew he was completely alone, his back would bow with the weight of his pain, shoulders sagging under the pressure. His fist would fly to his hair, strands coming loose as he pulled. Tears would well up in his eyes. Was this Fathers doing? Was he punishing you as he had done to us? Was he truly so petty to put you through all this pain? His tears would stop as soon as the twins returned, and he would stand, his spine rigid and head held high before turning to leave himself.

This all became a routine until MC's wings and horns stopped growing.

Their wings were massive, comparable to Lucifers, and pitch black, the tips white on the underside like those of Black Vultures from the Human Realm.

Their horns were smooth like polished crystal as they curved up and around the crown of their head like a halo, the ends bent upward. Black at the base and fading to white as they went.

Finally, they found the answer thanks to Solomon.

The Sorcerer had come to the HoL, exhausted and worse for wear, but with a triumphant smile on his face. Satan, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Simeon followed close behind.

He gathered them all in MCs room, where they still slept.

"So what's wrong with em'?" Mammon squawked, impatient as ever.

"There is nothing wrong with them. Not truly. In simple terms, MC has evolved. They are no longer human." Solomon answered plainly.

"So they are a demon now?" Beel asked.

"That's the intriguing part, No. After running multiple tests, I could find no trace of the human genome or anything connected to demons or angels in their blood. From what I can gather, the genes from their angelic heritage were domant before being activated by their experiences here in the Devildom. Their body evolved to survive. Normally, these new genes would be passed on to their descendents much later, but due to their peculiar circumstances and the power they have aquired, the process was excelerated. MC is no longer human and neither demon nor angel. They have become something new."

"Would they be comparable to a Nephilim or Cambion?" Diavolo asked.

"I don't know. All we can do is wait and see. But I do not believe they will pose a danger. If anything, this cements them as a connection to all three realms. Having been born a human with angelic blood and their relationships with all of you and pacts with the brothers, they might well be your greatest asset to create the peace you have been working so diligently for."

They all turned to look at MCs sleeping form.

"Then what are we waiting for, huh? Let's wake em' up!" Mammon exclaimed.

Lucifer looked over to Diavolo and received a warm smile and a nod.

With them all gathered around Belphie lifted his magic and MC stirred.

Their eyes blinked open, and they were greeted with new life.

Drawing reference to MCs new form. Science Overview

[usafphantom2]

Here is a humorous story I just ran across. Can you imagine the guts of a KC 135Q pilot ( Erik Swanson) taking on an SR 71 in a race? Yes, this did happen. I knew that our own fighter pilots were constantly trying to race an SR 71. I knew that the Russians dreamed of the time when they could catch up with one.

Everyone wanted to race them even their own tankers!

As the SR-71 pilot topped off his fuel tanks I talked to him on the special boom interphone. He was a newly checked out SR-71 pilot and I wanted to see if he was up for a challenge. I challenged the SR-71 pilot that after he completed refuelling and lit his afterburners I could beat him in a race from our current altitude of 26,000ft to 37,000ft (11,278m). Straight away he accepted the challenge. Being lighter having offloaded so much fuel we were now flying at Mach 0.86. My throttles were set high and my gross weight was light. He was at almost full gross weight and slow. He lit the afterburners; I clicked off the autopilot and started to rapidly climb. He was slow to accelerate at first and soon realised his mistake in accepting the challenge.

I beat him to 37,000ft! 😮

We were radio-silent, so there was no discussion of the incident. Competition is great when the odds are in your favour.

The SR-71 pilot and I talked after returning from the mission. He pleaded with me not to tell anyone that a KC-135Q had out climbed him.

I admitted it was an unfair challenge and agreed to his request.

This incident happened 25 years ago and so enough time has passed for me to reveal the winner of our race.

The final part of this mission was tricky. The SR-71 made it down on the first attempt. The other KC-135Qs had diverted to nearby RAF Lakenheath. I made a preliminary instrument approach to Mildenhall in high crosswinds and with a low cloud base. The approach was made more difficult by the buildings along the approach path causing gusting wind conditions. I went around for another instrument approach, requesting the winds from the control tower every few seconds. I got down to minimums and was cleared for landing. The co-pilot called the tower for the wind speed and direction on short final and tower did not answer. The assumption was made that the crosswinds were within maximum limits.

In a crosswind KC-135 pilots were taught to fly the final approach in a crab condition to stay aligned with the runway. As a pilot transitions to land, the crab angle is corrected by pushing in the rudder to align the nose of the aircraft with the runway, and opposite aileron to cancel out the rolling effect caused by the rudder. This worked well in most crosswind conditions. When the crosswind became very strong it required more rudder and more opposite aileron causing the aircraft to land in a wing low condition. Because the engine pods were slung beneath the wings, the maximum amount of bank was limited to 8°.

Any more would cause an engine pod to strike the ground resulting in a possible engine fire, structural damage or potentially loss of control of the aircraft. I used a differential throttle technique that was not taught to KC-135 pilots, but had learned it from one of my early Aircraft Commanders who was extremely knowledgeable on the Stratotanker. If the wind was from the left, as in this case, the nose of the aircraft would tend to weathervane into the wind. By adding additional power on the outer left engine, less right rudder was required to keep the nose straight and thus less opposite aileron input was needed. This technique allowed the KC-135 to land in direct crosswinds greater than 25kts (46km/h) without scraping an engine pod.

A successful landing was made with my knees knocking by the time I turned off the runway!

@Habubrats71 via X

[monkeyssalad-blog]

X-15 Launch from B-52 Mothership by NASA on The Commons Via Flickr: This photo illustrates how the X-15 rocket-powered aircraft was taken aloft under the wing of a B-52. Because of the large fuel consumption, the X-15 was air launched from a B-52 aircraft at 45,000 ft and a speed of about 500 mph. This was one of the early powered flights using a pair of XLR-11 engines (until the XLR-99 became available). The X-15 was a rocket-powered aircraft 50 ft long with a wingspan of 22 ft. It was a missile-shaped vehicle with an unusual wedge-shaped vertical tail, thin stubby wings, and unique fairings that extended along the side of the fuselage. The X-15 weighed about 14,000 lb empty and approximately 34,000 lb at launch. The XLR-99 rocket engine, manufactured by Thiokol Chemical Corp., was pilot controlled and was capable of developing 57,000 lb of rated thrust (actual thrust reportedly climbed to 60,000 lb). North American Aviation built three X-15 aircraft for the program. The X-15 research aircraft was developed to provide in-flight information and data on aerodynamics, structures, flight controls, and the physiological aspects of high-speed, high-altitude flight. A follow-on program used the aircraft as a testbed to carry various scientific experiments beyond the Earth's atmosphere on a repeated basis. For flight in the dense air of the usable atmosphere, the X-15 used conventional aerodynamic controls such as rudder surfaces on the vertical stabilizers to control yaw and canted horizontal surfaces on the tail to control pitch when moving in synchronization or roll when moved differentially. For flight in the thin air outside of the appreciable Earth's atmosphere, the X-15 used a reaction control system. Hydrogen peroxide thrust rockets located on the nose of the aircraft provided pitch and yaw control. Those on the wings provided roll control. Because of the large fuel consumption, the X-15 was air launched from a B-52 aircraft at 45,000 ft and a speed of about 500 mph. Depending on the mission, the rocket engine provided thrust for the first 80 to 120 sec of flight. The remainder of the normal 10 to 11 min. flight was powerless and ended with a 200-mph glide landing. Generally, one of two types of X-15 flight profiles was used: a high-altitude flight plan that called for the pilot to maintain a steep rate of climb, or a speed profile that called for the pilot to push over and maintain a level altitude. The X-15 was flown over a period of nearly 10 years--June 1959 to Oct. 1968--and set the world's unofficial speed and altitude records of 4,520 mph (Mach 6.7) and 354,200 ft (over 67 mi) in a program to investigate all aspects of piloted hypersonic flight. Information gained from the highly successful X-15 program contributed to the development of the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo manned spaceflight programs, and also the Space Shuttle program. The X-15s made a total of 199 flights and were manufactured by North American Aviation. X-15-1, serial number 56-6670, is now located at the National Air and Space Museum, Washington DC. NASA Media Usage Guidelines Credit: NASA Image Number: E-4942 Date: 1959

[greenwitchcrafts]

Cinnamon

Cinnamomum Verum

Known as: Ceylon cinnamon & sweet bark

Related plants: Cinnamon is a member of the Lauraceae or the laurels. It is a plant family that includes the true laurel and its closest relatives. This family comprises about 2850 known species in about 45 genera worldwide that can include Cinnamomum, bay, sassafras, bay laurel, litsea & cassytha.

Parts used: Inner bark

Habitat & Cultivation: This evergreen tropical tree is native to Sri Lanka, the neighbouring Malabar Coast of India, and Myanmar (Burma) and is also cultivated in South America and the West Indies. this species is found growing from the lowlands up to an altitude of 700 m. C. verum is a hardy species which tolerates a wide range of tropical soils.

Plant type: Perennial

Region: 10-12

Harvest: Give your cinnamon tree two to three years after planting to fully develop. When the bark is brown and the leaves are firm, the plant is ready for harvesting. Carefully Cut away the outer bark until you reach the yellow-orange inner bark then peel away strips of the inner bark until you reach the core of the branch or trunk. Dry the inner bark & let the peeled pieces in a single layer on a window screen or tray. They will curl as they dry until they resemble the cinnamon quills you’re used to.

Growing tips: Make sure the planting site is several feet away from other trees & at least six hours of direct sunlight on most days. Cinnamon plants prefer a rich, well-draining soil-A sandy loam will work well & don't do well in waterlogged soils, so don't plant in heavy clay or hardpan soils. They don't do well when temperatures fall below 40 degrees Fahrenheit or in very dry conditions.

Medicinal information: Cinnamomum verum has been reported to have anti-diabetic, antibacterial, antioxidant, anti-inflammatory, and anticancer effects. Cinnamon oil is also used in dental and pharmaceutical products. Cinnamon leaf oil has been found to be effective in killing mosquito larvae & in some studies the leaf oil is being proposed for use as an insect repellent.

Cautions: Cinnamon usually causes no side effects. But heavy use could irritate your mouth and lips, causing sores. The oil can be a skin irritant & therefore should not be put directly on your skin.

Magickal Properties

Gender: Masculine

Planet: Sun

Element: Fire

Deities: Aesclepius, Aphrodite, Bast, Helios, Mercury, Oshun, Ra & Venus

Magickal uses:

• Add to a spell to speed up action &success

• Burn as an incense to stimulate spiritual powers, increase, psychic ability & awareness

• Wear as an amulet to attract passion into your life

• Hang the sticks or a cinnamon broom above your front door to keep negative energies away

• Keep a cinnamon stick in your wallet to attract financial prosperity

• Mix with your coffee for an easy prosperity spell

• Rub the oil on ritual tools to cleanse them(but please use gloves, cinnamon oil is very strong)

• Substitute the sticks for bones while attempting divination via osteomancy

• Use in a simmer pot for money, cleansing & prosperity spells

• Burn the bark or incense to increase male libido or empower sex magick

• Along side a green candle & basil, cinnamon helps makes a quick & easy money spell

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from The Revelator:

Extirpated from the United States a century ago and almost unknown until the mid-1990s, this endangered species can make a comeback if we give it a small boost. New technology for tracking has allowed an assessment and intervention that may help these birds hold on in several critical areas.

Species name:

Thick-billed parrot (Rhynchopsitta pachyrhyncha)

Description:

A typical parrot-green, mid-sized bird weighing 14-17 ounces (400-500 grams) with a distinctive wine-red mask. In flight, a distinctive yellow band is visible under the wings. Their raucous calls sound like laughter in the middle of the forest.

Where They’re Found:

Thick-billed parrots live mostly in Mexico’s Sierra Madre Occidental mountain range. They were presumably once abundant representatives of high-altitude pine forests, where they persist to this day in much smaller numbers due to the destruction of most old-growth forests and the reduction of mature forests. The species is only present in a small number of zones with adequate conditions for nesting, where they’re mostly under protection or good forest management.

IUCN Red List status:

Considered “endangered” in the most recent 2020 assessment, mainly due to habitat loss and an apparent constant decline. The first comprehensive population estimate will be conducted this fall. The parrot will be one of the first bird species to undergo the IUCN’s new Green Status Assessment, which measures the recovery of species populations and their conservation success.

Major Threats:

The extirpation of thick-billed parrots in the northern part of their range is believed to have been caused by hunting or shooting the parrots for “sport” or food. In the Sierra Madre Occidental of Mexico, where the core populations and range have been holding on, massive land-use change — particularly forestry practices to harvest all old-growth and large trees and remove snags that serve as nesting trees — resulted in precipitous decline over the past century, up until very recently. 

From the 1970s to the 1990s, demand by collectors and the pet trade became an additional threat that has since largely disappeared or represents minimal pressure on the species.

Notable Conservation Programs or Legal Protections:

For 30 years a small group of individuals and institutions have been doing research and developing a suite of techniques for thick-billed parrots, not only for research but also to enhance population growth by mitigating or eliminating factors that increase mortality and reduce productivity.

Most of the work during this time, which provided valuable information and insights, was done at a “pilot scale” and with meager resources. As a result we were basically frustrated witnesses to a species’ decline and potential demise.

Fortunately the species is currently the focus of a comprehensive binational effort of community-based conservation to change the trajectory of decline. The field team is led by Organización Vida Silvestre (OVIS) and supported notably by San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, the Arizona Game and Fish Department, World Parrot Trust, and additional supporters and donors.

Over the next five years (2024-2028) we will implement the full suite of actions, including intensive nest monitoring and management, parasite control on an ad-hoc basis, food supplementation to chicks in select clutches to prevent emaciation, an enhanced nesting box program, fire pre-suppression activities, incentives to local communities, community-based monitoring and nest protection, greater understanding of landscape level need of the thick-billed parrot, and amplifying the telemetry information to include not only long distance movements but also daily activities to food, water and clay licks.

[accio-victuuri]

wang yibo - cctv entertainment weibo post

CCTV ENTERTAINMENT REVIEWS EXPLORING THE UNKNOWN WITH WANG YIBO

The dual exploration of nature and soul opens a new chapter in youth growth.

Today's young people are facing unprecedented pressure and challenges. Some people feel that their lives are trapped, unable to advance or retreat, like being suspended on a steep cliff. They begin to believe in the rules of success, entangled in desire and anxiety, and even lose their own private land, and can't find the motivation to pursue anything; they are eager to find an exit, eager to break through themselves, and find inner peace and energy. It is against this background that the outdoor exploration documentary program "Exploring the Unknown" came into being. This program is not only an exploration of the unknown natural world, but also a spiritual journey about growth, courage and self-examination. This journey concretizes "anxiety". After approaching it, you will find that we are far more powerful than we think.

"Exploring the Unknown" produced 12 episodes through the real journey of six Chinese outdoor explorers (Xing Enxue, Zhou Peng, Wang Hao, Zhou Fang, Liu Yongbang, Wu Xinlei) and Wang Yibo. From tropical rainforests to mysterious snow-capped mountains, from deep caves to endless deserts, six extreme geographical outdoor journeys lead the audience to deeply explore diverse landforms and spectacular scenery. To experience many "first times" and to "embrace every kind of life", to understand the true meaning of life in the pursuit, to heal potential wounds with nature, to gradually enrich ourselves, to prompt us to rethink our lives, to begin to face up to prejudices and anxieties, to resolve contradictions, and to find a prescription for reconciliation with ourselves.

Every journey and arrival of the program initiator Wang Yibo and the explorers reflects the process of the young generation completing their transformation by constantly challenging themselves and overcoming their inner fears. They hiked long distances through the rainforest in the continued high temperature to pursue Hainan gibbons, and experienced the mystery and vitality of the primeval forest; faced with steep ice slopes and dangerous ice cracks, they overcame altitude sickness while climbing the snow-capped mountains, and successfully reached the top with firm will and mutual encouragement; in the roaring ocean, the team also increased the underwater breath holding time and diving depth in a very short time, starting a thrilling island hopping diving trip; in the vast desert, they faced extreme dryness and high temperatures, showing how to survive in harsh environments... These scenes not only show the magnificent scenery of nature, but also reflect the subtle and powerful connection between humans and nature.

"Internal resistance" is common today but often ignored. It causes us to procrastinate and consume internally after encountering bottlenecks. However, everyone in the show seems to have no such trouble. They find points of interest and work hard for them during the exploration process, which has also become the fulcrum for them to keep moving forward. Often, the more fulcrums in life, the more stable the core. Perhaps breaking through difficulties does not necessarily mean making big strides and making rapid progress. As long as you move a little bit each time, you are already breaking through, and this progress is more solid and solid. Perhaps this is also the meaning of continuous exploration, you will touch unexpected and profound answers.

"Exploring the Unknown" has won the love of the audience with its unique perspective and profound connotation. It is not just a documentary, but more like a "book of answers", providing a valuable spiritual food for all young people who are working hard. The program shows the positive qualities of the younger generation in daring to challenge new things, and also reflects how the younger generation can resolve the confusion and confusion they face in their growth through their changes in their state of mind when facing different situations in exploration.

Life is never a set route. A short "escape" is for a better return, to meet the vast world, and to become yourself. What you choose to believe is what you may get. Believe that life is a colorful puzzle, and every piece you pick up is a necessary condition for piecing together a better life.