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suckerfordr3 · 3 years ago

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Priorities - Part V

“I moved out here just about four years ago. I got hired as an analyst and packed my bags, moved countries and didn’t look back, I was all of 21. I wanted to have an adventure. It was more about exploring a new city and country than about the job but I fell in love with it, the job was great and I was good, I worked hard got promoted even signed on some clients of my own and it paid well and I was happy. Monaco is barmy. It’s like no other place I’ve been before and at some point I got caught up in it all. I’d met a group of friends and they kind of adopted me into their life and with them came the parties. I didn’t date much aside from you know casually, nothing serious. There was this one guy, a trust fund rich type, we were friends, maybe friends is stretching it a little but we knew each other well enough and after a bad day at work on a random yacht party by the marina, we hooked up. We didn’t talk about it afterwards, it was a meaningless encounter. Just getting out stress and…” you pause from your rambling, taking in a deep breath and you continue.

“I realised around two months later that I hadn’t had a proper period, I’m not exactly the most regular person so I wasn’t worried but I went in for a check up and they told me the one thing I didn’t really want to hear. I was pregnant.”

“I decided to keep it, it wasn’t a religious or morality thing, I just kind of knew that I wanted it.. him, I wanted him. A couple of months later Luke popped out. It was all kinds of drama, from my family, my friends thought I’d lost my marbles. And he, uhh Luke’s father, I mean more of a sperm donor I guess, he bailed. Stopped hanging out with any of our friends, I think he still lives here but he didn’t want to be around. So I had Luke all for my own. And he’s 2, he’s a brown haired little boy and he’s adorable. And there’s not one part of me that regrets any of the sleepless nights or even the 14 hour delivery or the constant financial worry of raising a kid in this fucking expensive city, he’s my everything.” You didn’t cry like you’d expected, instead you felt a little relived to be able to tell Daniel something real about you. If it was a deal breaker then it would be his loss, Ethan’s words rang in your ears.

“I haven’t really dated since then, Luke is two, and you’re the first guy who I’ve gone on a date with since becoming a single mom. And whatever this is to you, a random hookup or if you’re looking for a date, a relationship, a cliff diving drinking buddy or a whatever in me, I just felt like you should know. Cause he’s literally a part of me and the most important thing in my life.” You finish speaking, and evaluate quickly in you head your monologue, and you decide whilst it wasn’t the most eloquent speech, it was good enough for carrying through your sentiment.

Daniel hadn’t made a peep till you had finished speaking. He carefully unfurled his arms from around you and stepped inside. You didn’t follow him. You stood running through all the worst case scenarios before shrugging on your discarded top. If you are going to be rejected then maybe having some clothes on might save you some dignity. When Daniel returns you see him carrying out a bottle of water and your phone. Some part of your brain thinks that maybe he’ll ask you to find a ride home.

Instead he hands you your phone and opens the bottle of water and gives it to you. You drink from it wordlessly and put it down. Daniel then proceeds to place his hands on your face, cupping your cheeks, making you lock eyes with him. You notice how intense and deep his brown eyes are.

He pulls you into a kiss. It’s different from any of the kisses you’ve shared before, Daniel moves his lips against yours, open mouthed but tenderly as if to shower you with affection. His hands hold you in place so he has all the control but there’s no fighting or dominance displayed. He kisses you and it feels vulnerable. And your heart melts more than a little when he pulls away.

“Thank you for telling me y/n. I can’t even imagine what a fucking cunt Luke’s father was to abandon not only you but his kid, ducking coward. I’ve known you for all of two weeks and I don’t think anyone will be able to pry me away from you if you’d have me. Which brings me to your little ramble about this being a random hookup, it’s not, I told you the first day I met you that I feel like we clicked. And I’ve got killer instincts, y/n I really really want you” you feel your eyes water a little as you let out a tiny laugh for being an emotional wreck.

“So if you’ll have me I’d like to date you, I promise not to steal you away from your little man, he’s the most important person in your life and I’ll strive for at least second. I just would really like to spend time with you and figure this out. And honestly you being a hot sexy young mom is kinda of a turn on” Daniel adds the last part with a cheeky smile, you can’t help but wiggle your eyebrows at his statement earning a laugh from Daniel.

“So you big idiot can I see a picture of him already or do I have to grovel?” You smile up at him and pull up your phone to show him Luke, you show him some pictures from the ultrasounds, videos from his birthdays, even him taking his first steps, Danny coos and awes at his baby pictures, the last one you show him is one of you holding him for the first time, you’re crying, your hair is sweaty and you look like a huge wreck. So you try to brush pass it but Daniel swipes the phone out of your hand running inside and sitting down on the sofa You let out you a sigh of disapproval, “Danny no give that back I’m huge and nine months pregnant, if you want to say new born Luke I’ll show you something else” you run behind him, you stand in front of him and try to swat your phone away from him hand but he’s much stronger than you so you stand no chance. He pins your hands together easily with one hand makes you sit on top of him and traps you with his arm whilst zooming in on the picture.

“Shut up babe, this is beautiful, was anyone with you during your delivery?” He says looking with awe at the picture. You give up struggling and lean into his bare chest, his stubble tickles your neck “My sister had our whole family over for her my nephews birth, I missed it cause I was just working but mum kept me in loop, god 14 hours must have been tough” sounding a little sad towards the end imaging you going through childbirth without support.

“Yah no umm I was alone, I had a really nice nurse, didn’t speak much English though and my brain couldn’t really deal with speaking French at that moment but she coaxed me through everything, really nice woman so I wasn’t fully alone.”

Daniel nuzzled his nose behind your ear and then places a kiss on your cheek mumbling “I’m sorry you had to go through that” sounding genuinely disheartened at the thought.

“Hey it’s alright don’t pity me, I’m happy I’m good and it wasn’t all bad I got a little dude out of it, now I’m never alone.”

You turn around to straddle him, kissing him once on his nose and then again on his dimples before placing a soft peck on his lips to let him know that it’s okay.

“Can I meet him? If that’s not too quick ” Daniel asks you and you don’t really know what to say. “I didn’t really think about that” his face fell at your words. You think for a moment, before saying “But I think I can arrange that” Daniel smiles widely at you “really?” he asks, “yah sure why not?” You tell him smiling at how happy that made him.

“You know I haven’t seen my nephew in two years, he’s grown up so much and I didn’t get to see it, I’m gone all the time any way but I used to get the summers and winters with him, I’m worried he’s forgotten me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true babe” you say as you rub his back, “you’ll see him soon, I’m sure you’re planning a trip as soon as it’s feasible. Some things in life are out of our control and no one saw this pandemic coming, so don’t blame yourself for not being there for him, I’m sure he’s got a lot of growing up left to do and you’ll be there through that. Plus I’m sure you’re his hero, an F1 driver for an uncle, he must be your biggest fan”

“You know?” Daniel looks up to you surprised.

“I didn’t until today actually. Ethan my best mate and emergency babysitter found you on Netflix, you looked very hot, didn’t watch much though in case you weren’t okay with it”

“no no that’s alright I’m pretty sure millions have seen it by now, nothing is there that I hadn’t approved to be put in or filmed. I was going to tell you but you beat me to the confession portion of our date. So are you impressed by me being such a hunky high performance athlete?” Daniel asks you whilst wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. “Nope you’re still a dweeb, just one that is apparently paid millions to drive around in circles” you tell him in jest. Daniel feigns offence at your comment “I don’t drive in circles, I drive in complex circuits in the fastest and most competitive motorsport in existence” he tells you. “Sure buddy, whatever helps you sleep at night” you tell him trying to return to the lighthearted rapport you shared with him, Daniel apparently has the same idea as he proceeds to tickle you. You let out a shriek telling him to stop and trying to get away “nope not until you admit I’m a sporting god and the pinnacle of human performance” he says smiling at you struggling.

You were still sitting on his lap so your best bet was to free yourself and make a run for it, but Daniel had other intentions, sensing your motive he tightens his grasp on your waist and moves you and himself so that he has you pinned onto the couch with him on top of you.

You’re too busy laughing and squirming to realise that you in all of that movement the top that you were wearing had ridden up leaving your midriff exposed down to your underwear. Neither of you had bothered getting dressed after drying off and you could see all of Daniel’s tattoos, you thought to yourself that he really is a work of art.

Daniel’s hand stopped moving, you stopped laughing and the two of you locked eyes. His eyes burned with need and you are pretty sure yours mirrored his, it had been way too long since you felt this kind of desire. He hooked his fingers into the lower hem of your top and pulled it off you wordlessly. You pull him towards yourself trying to get him to kiss you but he denies you. Instead he says to you “let me take care of you” you raise an eyebrow questioningly but you quickly understand what he means when he palms your breasts from the outside letting out a groan at how well they filled your hands. Thank god for pregnancy. You moaned when he slipped his hand past your nipples which never quite recovered from breast feeding and were quite sensitive to any touch. Daniel noticing your sensitivity decided to zero in on your pleasure. He tool your bra off deftly and took an areola into his mouth. You let out a loud moan when his teeth made contact Daniel deciding not to push you too hard the first time around let you go and maintained a more gentle touch. His one hand was cupping your other tit and the other wandered to your underwear. Slipping through the band he used the pads of his fingers to locate your clit, he knew he found it when you let out a breathy moan. His ministrations continued but having his hand and mouth on you was getting overwhelming, “Danny I literally haven’t had sex in almost three years, I’m not going to last if you continue like this” you said to him breathlessly.

“Three years really babe?” He says releasing your nipple from his mouth. “Yup” you say pulling him in for a kiss, but before his lips touches yours he whispers to you, “better make this worth the wait then” and he plunges two of his fingers into your already wet folds, your moan is swallowed by his kiss and you realise you might be in some amount of trouble in the arms of this man.

Link for part 1

Link for part 6

#formula 1 smut #formula 1 fandom #formula 1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 rpf #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine

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imaginedsoldier · 5 years ago

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People will spend hours watching "ending explained" videos and reading about how Ed, Edd, n Eddy is set in purgatory or some such barmy nonsense, but the moment you tell them a piece of media was motivated by racism or corporate interest in affecting public opinion or the Pentagon's funding suddenly you're reading too much into it.

#text

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misskittysmagicportal · 4 years ago

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When Vicky Needed Honey

(An OC Kiss Week collaboration between @super-unpredictable98 and @misskittysmagicportal. No warnings, just mother/daughter love. Moonwalkers/The Umbrella Academy AU)

I woke up with that weird feeling again. I looked over at Klaus, still pretty much asleep, and grunted. On my way to the bathroom I prayed and prayed, but no luck. My period was nowhere to be found. A couple of days, I can understand, an entire week is a bit more worrying.

The last few days I've been feeling kinda sick, but it could be stress. I've been feeling kinda tired, understandable after two apocalypses. I've been feeling a little dizzy, which could easily be from the time travel... But my period wouldn't come, so that was starting to freak me out.

"Hey, Vanya... Would you buy a pregnancy test for me?" I rehearsed in front of the mirror. "No, no, I should ask Allison. She has a daughter, she'd understand, right?"

I nearly jumped when Klaus shifted in his sleep, I hoped with all my might he didn't hear what I just said. I sat on the edge of the tub and let my head roll back. How the fuck did we let that happen? We always wear a condom!

Well, technically a condom has 98% of effectiveness, according to the box, which I was reading as I thought about it. That means... 2 out of 100 women will get pregnant. With the amount of sex we have, it wouldn't be surprising that I could become part of this 2%. Damn it, Klaus! Why do you have to be so charming? Blame it on three decades of suppressed desire I guess.

I had to talk to someone, someone who wouldn't judge me, someone I could trust. There was only one person I could think of, so I went back into the room and as silently as possible, I slid the black briefcase from under our bed. The date was already set, so all I had to do was open it.

I felt that familiar pull of time travel, that endless rope that dragged me across the universe, which seemed to take forever, even though it was less than a second. As soon as I landed, I regretted it, my stomach did not like the disturbance and I felt like I was about to throw up.

"Vicky? Are you ok?" I felt a gentle hand on my back and took a few deep breaths before being able to turn back.

"Honey! Thank fucking God you're here! I need to talk to you."

"Is it Klaus? It's Klaus. Oh my god, tell me he's alright"

"Alright, I think we should sit down for this one..."

Honey nodded with a smile and took my hand as we made our way to the couch. I chewed on my bottom lip for a little while, thinking of the best way to say it, but I didn't wanna admit it:

"So, I'm gonna say it and I need you to listen because it's very complex," I started. "I think I'm pregnant, and I feel horrible because I don't want to be. Not that I don't want any kids, I do, in the future. The problem is that we just came out of the second apocalypse, everything is a mess, my family is all over the place. I love Klaus more than anything, so I don't wanna throw this onto him, you know? He's been through so much already!"

"Sweetie..."

"And I'm terrified of not being a good mother, the only mother I ever had was a robot. I love her to bits, but what if all I can give my child is robot-love? I don't even know what it feels like, my birth mom clearly didn't love me, she chose to give me away for money, I understand she wasn't expecting to get pregnant out of the blue, but... I don't understand why she couldn't love me. I feel so selfish and so stupid for letting this happen, and I keep thinking about my biological mom, I'm freaking out here," I started sobbing. "You're the only person I can talk to."

Honey began to live for the sound of her “kids” popping by the apartment. She brought the books home with her more often in case Klaus would come by to learn more about himself. Or Luther who really just wanted the tiny woman to hold him the way a robot never could. And Diego who well, was always hitting on her. Allison and Vicky and Vanya helped her feel not so alone.

Yeah, they were her children. They were mostly older than Honey. The discarded. The outcast. Who suffered abuse. They were the bought and sold to a billionaire. They were a magical pregnancy and 43 terrified women, one she would become 15 years from now. Thank God she already knew what one of those felt like.

Honey was checking on Sugar and Sunny as they napped. The large crow with his beak buried in his ebony feathers kept one large yellow eye on them from above. Sunny was enamored with the corvid. Klaus, despite being 35 years older than himself, was deeply jealous.

It was from their room, after hearing a familiar VOIP sound in the living room, that Honey just felt in her body something was wrong. There was an anxiety emanating from Vicky whose back was to her.

“Vicky? Are you ok?” Honey gently touched the woman. She wanted to hug her, but opted for minor affection.

Vicky's expression in response worried Honey. “Is it Klaus? It's Klaus. Oh my god, tell me he's alright.” Her lip started to tremble. For a clone of Leon, Klaus was infused with his mother.

Half an hour later, Honey could only stare slack-jawed over Vicky's guts being spilled all over the couch. So to speak.

Honey took Vicky’s hand and did what her mom would do. What she and Julia found themselves doing with their children. Whether they were full grown men or toddlers. Honey kissed Vicky's hand several times and held it over her heart.

“First of all, I can't speak for your birth mother or the others. I know Klaus told me it was a spontaneous pregnancy. Like BAM! We're suddenly giving birth. For me, even being 45,” Honey shivered dramatically, “I would rather kill Reginald and take you all. But whatever the other women did. That's on them.

“But! If anyone knows about an unexpected pregnancy, it's me. She's asleep in the other room with her brother. I think I realized I was knocked up, I just ignored it until Leon mentioned something about my body being new. We NEVER used protection. Pills in the sixties were for married women only. The fact that we had sex for over a year before anything happened is a freaking miracle.

I took two tests in the flat. Then at the clinic. Just a few weeks before, abortion became legal AND funded by the NHS. I told no one, went and made that woman tell me every single step of the process. I asked how easy the adoption process in the UK is. I wasn't keeping it no matter what.”

Now Honey took both of Vicky’s hands, “You have so many readily available options.” She kissed them both again, “But please just let Klaus know. It's YOUR choice. YOURS. Ultimately, I changed my mind. I had her on my own. Pregnancy, birth, her first six months. I wasn't even on the same continent as Leon. But if my baby would have half his looks, and his way of loving, and even an OUNCE of his heart, Leon deserved to be a dad. I WANTED to have his baby. I don't regret my decision. I don't want to regret yours either. We all love you.”

Honey kissed Vicky's forehead, “I mean I'm your mom now.”

I would've started crying if I wasn't already, it felt so good to finally have someone to hold my hand. I can only imagine dad's reaction if I told him I was pregnant with Klaus' baby... It was awesome to not be judged for once.

"I wanna tell him, I'm just scared... If I really am pregnant, I wanna keep it, but what if he doesn't like it? What if he doesn't wanna be a dad?"

My desperate rambling was interrupted by a blue surge of energy right in the middle of the room, that could only mean one thing... Klaus and Five fell from it with a loud thud.

I had to cover my mouth not to scream, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest, but Honey seemed pleased with the new visitors.

"Jesus Vicky... I woke up and you were gone, I was worried!" Klaus squeezed me in a tight hug.

"I told you she was fine, Victoria can handle herself," Five rolled his eyes. "It's not like she can get hurt."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to disappear."

Klaus moved to give Honey a hug as well, she kissed his forehead and urged him to sit down between us.

"I know this face, Scnucki..." Klaus placed his hand on my cheek. "What's wrong?"

I looked over at Honey and she gave me a reassuring nod. With a sigh, I took Klaus' hand, tracing the 'hello' with the tip of my finger.

"Klausie," I tried to muster the courage to say it. "I know the timing might not be the best, things are a little crazy right now, but I think I might be..."

"Might be...?" He stared at me nervously.

"Pregnant."

Klaus' mouth dropped and he widened his eyes. Shit! Shit! He hates it, he wasn't happy. He was gonna leave me right there and then.

"But we always..."

"I know, but apparently condoms are only 98% effective."

"You two really abuse your luck," Five mused.

"Timing isn't great, but if you want to keep it, I'm with you. It's our baby," a smile tugged at Klaus' lips. "And I love you, so..."

"Actually," I got up as fast as I could. "I love you too, but I'm not pregnant. If you guys will excuse me, I gotta go to the toilet, like right now!"

Honey watched as Vicky ran off to the bathroom. She was left with a bewildered Klaus, slack jawed over everything that quickly took place. She could only snort as Leon popped up from the same corner Vicky had just flown around. Mouth agape identical to his clone.

“Alright love,” Leon kissed her on the cheek. “Never told me the kids were coming ‘round for a visit.” He eyed up Five, still uncertain of him.

Klaus dramatically planted a fist on his hip, “Im thirty-six.”

“Too right. What's going on? Is Vicky ok she looked barmy.”

“Well we were almost grandparents.”

“GRANDPARENTS?! I'm thirty! Bloody hell I can't keep track of the ten we have now. Can't handle a baby, mate. Not coming from you. No offense.”

“All of it taken,” Klaus quipped.

“Well we don't need to worry about it. Pretty sure Vicky just overwhelmingly got her period. Better luck next time!”

Every single person in the room nearly knocked Honey flat with a loud in unison “NEXT TIME?”

She wouldn't make that mistake again.

#vicky #the eighth child #honey comb #tupelo honey #ockissweek #ockiss21 #leon x honey #vicky x klaus

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lilylovessev · 5 years ago

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how it feels || snily

Lily took a slow drag of her roll-up, pacing back and forth, the music emitting from the bar was merely background noise to her thoughts. She slowly exhaled the cherry scented smoke, having used the filters that she’d purchased whilst in Eastern Europe. She’d landed back in the midst of reality, having spent the last year travelling with her best friend Marlene. They had received a small grant from the Ministry to carry out their research projects, and so, they’d taken the opportunity to go abroad. It had been the most incredible, eye-opening experience that she could ever have possibly imagined that it would be. They had seen and done so much. It was the first time in her life that she’d truly had the opportunity to be adventurous, and rebellious. They’d certainly had their fair share of fun, to say the very least. And now, they were back in the midst of their friendship group and it was as if they had never been anywhere. The familiarity was reassuring, but she missed the lifestyle.

“You alright, gorgeous?”

And then there was him. She rolled her eyes, before turning and smiling, “I’m fan-fucking-tastic.” She winked at him, “So, this match tomorrow... Should you really be drinking quite so much now? You need to be on top form for such an important game.” Of course, she was only teasing. He played in the local league, albeit in his spare time. He was training to be an Auror, which was beyond her. He had to have had a good word put in from old Fleamont to the Ministry.

“If we’re all being forced to be there, it better be worth my time on a bloody Sunday morning,” she exclaimed, pecking his cheek before then throwing down her cigarette and heading back inside. She paused in the doorway, turning back to look at him, “I mean, you won’t at all be up for a shag tonight, will you? You need to conserve your energy.” She smirked, before turning away and walking back in. Well, he was good, that much she couldn’t possibly deny. He was athletic and could go for hours. That and he was obsessed with her. It wasn’t so much the case for her.

“Are you being serious?”

“Deadly.” Lily spooned a mouthful of cereal into her gob, “What do you know about him then?”

“He’s a bad boy, not at all reformed. His business does very well, and he’s incredibly knowledgeable. My Dad helped fund the shop. He approached a few of the ‘old’ families, all of whom obliged. He’s close with the Malfoys’. You know, him and Lucius were very bad boys when they were younger.” The blonde widened her eyes, “I have no idea how they escaped trouble, serious trouble, at least. Tact and blood status, I suppose. You should see him. He’s one hell of a beast of a bloke.”

The redhead smiled slowly, “Look, I don’t care about any of that.”

“Oh, you will.”

“Dumbledore pointed me in his direction. He can’t be... like, completely untrustworthy or anything like that.” She shrugged, groaning as she caught sight of the time on the clock nearby. “Shit, I best go.” She brought the bowl to her mouth, drinking the rest of the milk before running out of the kitchen to get dressed, given that she was bare-arse naked aside from a baggy shirt that she’d stolen from James.

Lily paused outside of the shop, not so tucked away in the midst of Diagon Alley. It was almost the start of the new school year and so the place was mad, there were kids everywhere. She groaned at the sight of some overly hormonal fourteen-year-olds gawking through the window. However, when she followed their gaze, she could easily understand why they were practically salivating. in amongst the customers, he was easily recognisable. Her eyes widened, and she cocked an eyebrow. Well. This was certainly a fantastic idea.

She gracefully moved past the girls, before walking inside, the bell announcing her arrival. The walls were lined with potion vials, all impeccably organised, which she could appreciate.

“Can I help you?”

“No... Hopefully, he can though.�� She moved past the girl, who had been far too eager to serve her, in order to reach her target. She approached him confidently, “Severus Snape?”

It was so obviously him, but she had to be polite, right? He turned to her, clearly wondering what was going on.

“My name is Lily Evans,” she introduced herself, holding out her ring-scattered hand. “As not to beat around the bush, I’d like to be your apprentice. I asked Professor Dumbledore up at Hogwarts as to who he thought he would take me on for my field of interest and he recommended asking you. Here,” she handed over a folder. “It has all of my credentials and I’ve included a copy of the write up of the project that I completed over the last year, fully endorsed by the Ministry. You’ll see just how invested I am in potioneering. I’m not interested in being paid, I just need the experience. That and I’d be working alongside you, which would be valuable. I’m hard-working. I’m gutsy and I take initiative. I could bring something to this. I’m looking to create a... brand, of my own, so to speak. I would be so greatly appreciative of your time and effort.”

Well, she had to sell herself to him, right? He was looking at her as if she was completely and utterly barmy. It was only really at that moment that she realised that this was looking like a no-go. He had a look in his eyes that actually caused her to feel what she could only describe as embarrassment. Why should she feel that way?! Everyone had to start somewhere, right? Was she crazy to start here though? Possibly. She just didn’t want to go to the Ministry yet, given that once she was there, she’d surely be trapped.

“At least consider it, please.”

#para

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updatesnews · 3 years ago

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Wales news: Welsh Labour ploughs ahead with ‘barmy’ plans for Tourism Tax on overnight sta | Politics | News

Mark Drakeford’s administration confirmed that a consultation will be launched this autumn when further details will be released about how it could look. It is already understood that visitors who are staying overnight would have to pay a fee to the local council under the scheme. It would be up to local authorities to set it and the Welsh Government said it would raise important funds for…

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barmyproductions · 2 years ago

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Posted @withregram • @barmyprods Get yourself a Barmy Dale T Shirt as part of our Kickstarter crowdfunding campaign. Check it out here https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/barmydalepodcast/barmy-dale-podcast-and-radio-sitcom #kickstarter #kickstartercampaign #crowdfund #crowdfunding #crowdfundingcampaign #podcast #podcastersofinstagram #podcastcomedy #comedypodcast #comedy #sitcom #comedyshow #radiocomedy #radiositcom #barmydale #derbyshire #madeinderbyshire

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cryptosnewss · 3 years ago

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OpenLive NFT Secures $1M Fund to Bolster Potential NFT Projects

[PRESS RELEASE – Please Read Disclaimer] OpenLive NFT, an innovative NFT marketplace specially designed for the exchange of NFTs such as popular NFT platforms, Rarible, Opensea, Foundation, etc. crypto and blockchain industry. FA Capital, Stech, Fudubank, CoinPublic, Zuki Moba, Moniwar, Cowboy-Snake, Barmy and JADE Labs are major players in the crypto sphere who have contributed enormously to the…

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dhoine-dyaebl · 7 years ago

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TW3 #02

Date: 13.5.2018

Hours played: 1:39

Quests finished: A frying pan, spick and span, Lilac & Gooseberries (not finished), Missing in action, Temerian Valuables, Dirty funds, The Beast of White Orchard (not finished)

Summary:

So the second entry. I checked the notice board, because sometimes funny useless notes appear. Saw one offering lessons in Nilfgaardian from a guy from Vicovaro. And it seemed really familiar, so I googled it and apparently Cahir (from the books) is from there. Huh.

I went around to get some XP and came upon old Gran and her pan. I think this quest is one of the most iconic ones, because everybody remembers this quest. On the other hand when she uses ‘me’ instead of ‘my’ grinds my gears.

Gran: “And they say when I gab to meself, I’m going barmy!”

Then I went to the Nilfgaardian Garrison to get some clues on Yennefer. Met the Quartermaster and haggled a bit. The Nilfgaardian (Peter Saar Gwynlewe) is rational and normal and I try to be polite, but...sassy Geralt is the best.

Peter Saar Gwynleve: I’m not yet fluent in Common Tongue.

Geralt: Probably mastered the basics, though. ‘Hands up’, ‘kill them’...

Peter Saar Gwynleve: No, first came idioms. Don’t play with fire for example.

Of course I accepted the quest for the griffin. Then did the Missing in action sidequest and helped the poor dude find his brother after the battle. I’m still poor so grave robbing is necessary. I mean they are NPCs so I don’t feel too bad. Made the decision for the Nilfgaardian to stay with the brothers, because I have a faint heart and try to get the least-people-die option if I can. I’m slowly getting into the rhythm of TW3, but riding is still a problem, mainly turns and obstacles like fences.

Killed a couple of drowners and did few Undiscovered locations (6) and leveled up to 2. I’m putting most of my ability points into Signs, because the most compatible gear is the Cat School one, which looks best (to me). And I think Signs are the easiest way for me.

Huh, when I started killing drowners all peasants started yelling “Murderer!” and one of them was even puking. Like I’m helping you out for free. You should at least look thankful. I did the Temerian Valuables and Dirty funds, which are basically treasure hunts so nothing interesting. Heh, Submarine Geralt (me on Geralt swimming).

Went to finally work on the main quest The Beast of White Orchard. I chose to go to the hunter, Myslav, first. We killed a few wild dogs together and I think we became casual friends so I unlocked his tragic backstory. He’s gay. Then I just collected flowers and herbs for potions. I crafted Swallow, White Honey and Cat.

What paths do you use when playing? Do you go by road or just straight through forest, rivers...I mean both have some pros and cons. Road are easier to navigate on horseback and unlock you more quests and Fast travel posts. Paths straight through the forest make finding herbs and monsters for killing far easier.

Previous =/= Next

Question: Should I include pictures and/or short videos? Because some things cannot be put into words. On other hand it will take longer, because I would have to do this on the gaming PC, which is almost always occupied.

#Witcher #witcher wild hunt #the witcher 3 #geralt of rivia #Geralt #yennefer #Yennefer of Vengerberg #02 #journal

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justjessame · 4 years ago

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Early Warning Chapter 1

When Riley Richards was four years old, she told her older brother Reed that he was going to one day be able to see a star in person. He laughed at her and said she was mad. When she was six, she told him that he was going to fall off the balcony of their grandparents' roof in the country two years from that day, and he told her that she was completely barmy.

Two years later, he was in the emergency room with his arm in a cast, having fallen off the balcony after being dared by the neighbor to try to balance himself on the balcony edge. She tried very hard not to tell him she told him so, but she failed.

Riley Richards wasn't all that different from Reed Richards. She was dark haired and light eyed. She was highly intelligent, although her intelligence wasn't maths and science based. She was far more literature, writing, and creativity based. While he was more literal and had more dry humor, she was by far more sarcastic and had a more playful way about her. Her empathy and ability to "see" what was coming was more pronounced, even with Reed's urge to be at the forefront of technology.

While Reed was dating Sue Storm, Riley was attending the best boarding schools and colleges their family's money and her intelligence could provide. She met Sue a time or two. They got along alright. The majority of Riley's interaction with Reed's contemporaries was with Ben Grimm. In Ben she found a kindred soul, a person who didn't see a little girl playing pretend. Ben took stock in what Riley said she felt and saw. He took her warnings seriously and also allowed for her playfulness. He could also see that she felt a protectiveness for her older brother, even if Reed didn't.

Of the people scheduled for Reed's experiment being bankrolled by Dr. Victor von Doom, only Johnny Storm and von Doom are unknown to Riley. And of those two, von Doom gives Riley the most anxiety. She knows that Reed won't listen, but Ben will. And so, here she is, landing on Reed's doorstep, weeks before the experimental trip into space is set to commence. She's praying that her darling brother will for once just go with the flow and let her visit go unattested.

Approaching the Baxter Building, Riley is once again taken by the size. She wonders again why her parents bothered cutting her brother off. Their wealth is vast, even by most American standards, but they wanted their children to eventually be "self-made". Understandable, but Reed is a genius. Even if he has some pie in the sky ideas, eventually one would have panned out. Riley knew this, but her parents also believed in tough love. The lights will eventually go out in this building. How sad.

"Not on my watch," Riley whispered, entering when the doorman held the door. Her bags were being held until she sent for them. She only hoped it wouldn't be too long of a wait. Walking to the elevator, she was happy to note that they still had an operator. "Penthouse, please."

She exited at the top floor, and was chuckling to herself as she smelled what could only be described as ozone. Reed would forever be associated with that smell. "Reed?" She called, hoping he'd do his own version of Marco Polo. "Where are you brother mine?"

"Riley?!" She heard his voice coming from the direction of what appeared to be the kitchen. "What the dickens are you doing here?" His head popped up from under the countertop. "Did the parents send you?"

She laughed, seeing his hair sticking up undignified in every direction. "God no, do you honestly believe that Mother and Father would send me anywhere?" She shucked off her jacket and tossed it in the general direction of a chair where it landed perfectly. "What in the hell are you doing?" The kitchen, if that's the room they were in was a disaster. Everything was tossed. If he was looking for something in particular, he hadn't found it, or if he had, she couldn't tell.

"I'm trying to get ready for my trip," he said, standing up from where he'd been crouched. "I have a list of everything that needs done around here. And I'm trying to get to all of it."

Riley perched on a stool at the counter, careful of the mess. "Dear God, tell me what you're crossing off that's causing mass destruction?" She said, gesturing around her. "Or are you adding whilst subtracting?"

Reed groaned, realizing his little sister was correct in her deduction. He had been fixing a slight leak in the plumbing and created a complete disaster. Shaking his head, he returned to his question of why she was in front of him. "Don't distract me. Why are you here?" He said, tossing the wrench on top of the mess and grabbing a stool to sit next to her.

"I heard you were heading to space, dear brother." She said, turning to face him. The better to ignore the mess. "I thought I'd offer to house sit for you." She glanced around his mess. "I may even buy you one of those cute signs or welcome mats 'bless this mess'." She gave a shudder.

Reed found himself chuckling despite himself. His little sister had arrived just when he needed her for once. Dear God, when had he last seen her? "I think I may have missed you, Riley." He said, pulling her in for a hug that surprised them both. "I need time to get everything together, and Ben has to get his aggravation under control."

"What's got Ben's panties in a bunch?" Riley asked, raising an eyebrow as she pulled away from the hug. "He gets to pilot a shuttle into space. He should literally be over the moon."

One look at Reed's face and she knew. Ben wasn't going to be the pilot. The hotshot, Sue's brother was going to be the pilot. Crap, no wonder, she could pick up the stress and anxiety of this trip before she'd even landed on this continent. Ugh, well at least Ben was getting to spend the last bit of time with his fiance Debbie.

"Alright, well, you take the time to get your scientific hoo hah together." Riley said, as Reed rolled his eyes at her very scientific term. "I'll take the time to find people to make sure your 'honey do' list is completed." Before Reed could argue, she held up a hand. "Reed, you aren't the only Richards with a trust fund. And I haven't touched mine, yet."

She smiled as he gave her an exhausted nod. "Is it alright if I call and have my bags sent?" She asked, making sure permission was granted. Another nod. "Good, now call Ben and tell him that little sister is here, and make sure he knows I want at least lunch before the final farewell to you lot!"

As Reed went off to make his phone call, and before she sent word for her bags to be sent, Riley took a deep breath. She hoped against hope that her feelings of panic were wrong, but she knew that they weren't. Something bad was going to happen. Something she couldn't stop, not even with warning. All she could do was be here for the fallout. And that's what she fully intended to do. That and warn Ben. Why? Because Ben was in the most danger, of that she was absolutely sure.

#Johnny Storm XOFC #Fantastic Four #alternative universe #slow burn

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tridentine2013 · 7 years ago

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Corbyn - What if you are wrong?

Ok, so you hate Jeremy Corbyn; but what if you are wrong to?

I get it. You are furious that a major political party in the UK has a leader who is an ‘IRA sympathiser’. Incensed that he is ‘weak’ on defence; a pacifist. Enraged that he didn’t sing the national anthem that time … boiling mad that he didn’t campaign effectively for ‘remain’, and that he is a Marxist puppet of the troublemaker trades unions, who cosies up to extremists and wants to borrow even more money which we ‘cannot afford’, especially since Labour already ‘crashed the economy’, and are not fiscally competent. He voted time and again against anti-terror legislation, wouldn’t push the nuclear button, isn’t a royalist, and wants to tax your home, your garden, your work and your inheritance. He’s scruffy, he’s an enemy of business, and he supports uncontrolled immigration. You know this, because everyone knows. Everyone except the barmy army of dupes and gulls who hang on his every word like brainwashed sheep. But what if you are wrong? What might you be passing up by holding to ‘your views’, because the media you trust have exposed these truths time after time?

Let’s address the issue of most concern to many, Corbyn the terrorist sympathiser and appeaser. In this context, the IRA issue is pre-eminent. I dare to suggest that most British people not living in Northern Ireland have a very limited grasp of the politics of Ireland, little understanding of the period from William of Orange to the Easter Rising, or the ‘Anglo Irish Treaty’, the establishment of the Irish Free State, or what precipitated ‘The Troubles’ from the mid-1960s to 1998. But that is not important. What is important is that you know that the IRA murdered and bombed their way around the six counties and the mainland for many years, inflicting harm on innocent civilians along the way. And that anyone who showed support for them was obviously anti-British, and by definition a terrorist sympathiser. Do you believe then, that it is ‘not the British way’ to try to find a solution to a 20-year-old guerrilla conflict, which might bring the killings to an end? Some of you may remember Margaret Thatcher proclaiming that the British Government would “… never negotiate with terrorists”. But in 2011 cabinet papers were released which showed that in 1981 she did just that, during the ‘hunger strikes’. But she was not the first; in 1969, the British Army met senior figures in the IRA. In 1971, they met again in secret talks. In 1972 Irish Labour Party politicians acted as a ‘conduit’ for talks between the IRA and Reginald Maudling of the Conservative government of the UK. Later in 1972 MI6, the UK Government, and the British Army held talks in N.I. and subsequently the IRA ‘top brass’ were flown to secret talks in London. This trip included Martin McGuiness and Gerry Adams. Willie Whitelaw represented the British Government, led by Conservative Prime Minister Edward Heath. From 1973 to 1976 many more secret talks were held. In 1977 Douglas Hurd met Gerry Adams and Danny Morrison. These secret ‘back channel’ communications were not suspended until 1982. And the it gets interesting. In 1983 Ken Livingstone met with Gerry Adams in Belfast, which led to an invitation to the Palace of Westminster in 1984, extended by Livingstone and fellow MP Jeremy Corbyn. In 1986 Gerry Adams MP, president of Sinn Féin, and Tom King MP, the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, entered into secret correspondence, carried out by intermediaries. With the approval of prime minister Margaret Thatcher, King lays out the UK’s position for negotiations. Livingstone, Corbyn, and many other Labour and Tory politicians had come to the view that a military solution was not possible. In 1988 James M. Glover, former Commander-in-Chief of the UK Land Forces, admitted during television documentary that the Irish Republican Army cannot be defeated militarily, and the most rational period of the entire troubles followed, 1989 to 1994, known historically as the peace process period, beginning under Thatcher in which (1991 on) the British Government held regular covert talks with the IRA which ultimately led to the 1999 ceasefire, and eventually the Good Friday Agreement. Jeremy Corbyn’s role was perhaps minor, but it was, in contrast to many politicians, open and honest. It was, in keeping with Corbyn’s political beliefs, an attempt to explore the opportunities for peace.

But he definitely didn’t sing the National Anthem though … that much is true. Jeremy Corbyn is a democrat and a republican. And definitely a man of principle. A man of peace. He sat in silent contemplation, reflecting perhaps on the horrors of war; who can actually say?

But do we prefer armies of politicians who fiddle their expenses, avoid tax, break promises, lie in court, ’employ’ family members as researchers or office managers, take money from ‘lobbyists’ or in countless ways abuse their position and privilege, so long as they sing the National Anthem? Liam Fox for example, our current Conservative Secretary of State for International Trade. Who had to repay over £22,000 of falsely claimed mortgage expenses, and claimed £19,000 in 4 years in ‘mobile phone charges’. Liam Fox who failed to declare several trips abroad paid by foreign governments, who simultaneously rented out his London home whilst claiming the cost of living in rented accommodation (£19,000) from the state. Liam Fox who took his close male friend Adam Werrity to MOD meetings with foreign dignitaries at the taxpayer’s expense, even though Werrity had no security clearance. I bet he would sing the National Anthem with gusto.

What Jeremy Corbyn did do however, apart from not sing the National Anthem, was to stay talking with ex-service veterans, while the other ‘dignitaries’ at the Remembrance Day event went off for a taxpayer funded slap up lunch. To suggest that you would rather he had simply sung the National Anthem ‘out of respect’ is to endorse the Liam Foxxes of this world. To imply that it is ok to act abominably so long as you give the appearance of having the interests your country, not naked self-interest as your primary motivation. This affair was actually an example of the kinder, fairer, more honest politics which Jeremy Corbyn seeks to encourage. You may not agree with him in this regard. You may be a ‘patriot and a royalist’. But we have the only National Anthem which conflates support for the royal family with patriotism. Which does not, if god is invoked at all, ask him to favour and protect the nation, instead suggesting he does so by proxy in favouring the monarch, and the monarch’s enduring rule. Is it unpatriotic to be a republican? Is it not possible if you are German, or French, or Irish, to be ‘patriotic’? Jeremy Corbyn is a proud Briton. But he draws that pride from how in our best selves, collectively, we treat all humanity. When we do not invade or destabilise, undermine or subvert other countries for our own economic gain. When we do not attack other nations on false pretexts, when we look after our own, be it our disabled population, or other socially disadvantaged groups … When we show global leadership in human rights. When we improve the entire world by scientific or medical breakthroughs, when we are the best we can be.

But he is a Marxist, and that is reason enough to hate the man with a passion. Except that he isn’t. He just isn’t. I hope that we are agreed he does stand by his principles, whether we agree with them or not? In his over 30 years in politics, he has presented himself as a democratic socialist. The wealth of ‘Marxist and Marxist-Leninist’ groups have never had Corbyn on their membership list. But it’s his policies that mark him out as a Marxist? I cannot go into the technical reasons that Corbyn cannot credibly be argued to be a Marxist, but it is worth remembering that what motivated Marx and Engels was the interests of the working man, and the establishment of a system of economics which offered an alternative to capitalism. Marx believed the capitalist system bore insoluble contradictions, and contained within itself the seeds of its own destruction. In 2008 the inherent flaws of free market economics were laid bare. Marx was in many respects visionary. His ideas about the exploitation of Labour, the primacy, within the system, of those owning the means of production, the problems created by overproduction have become manifest. But that is a separate discussion. The fact is that Jeremy Corbyn is somewhere between a democratic socialist and a social democrat. This should not describe a position on the political spectrum which troubles or scares you unless you are someone who has become hugely wealthy, largely by paying workers considerably less than their labour value. Jeremy Corbyn is a pragmatic socialist, with an objective of progressive, achievable change to a more equitable and rewarding system for the individual worker. He is broadly in line with the theories of Keynesian economics, and fundamentally opposed to the idea that ‘austerity’ is or was a necessary response to the circumstances of the 2008 global crash. Whilst we are on the subject, we might look at some evidence from the Office of National Statistics, regarding the immediate post-crash growth.

The graphic above charts the actual GDP growth over the period shown. The post-crash trough which bottomed out in 2009 demonstrates that in less than a year from the trough, GDP growth had returned to positive, from a low of -2.4%. From shrinking 2.4%, to shrinking less, (relative growth) to actual positive growth for 3 quarters before the 2010 election. Since then, we see a very stagnant period, with virtually no growth, which looks set to continue into the foreseeable future, due to lack of investment. Yes Corbyn, and Labour would borrow more money, which at historically low interest rates, would be spent in areas of the economy, including infrastructure … building etc., to stimulate economic activity and growth, which (the theory goes) would be more than capable of creating the wealth to meet the increased interest costs, providing a faster paydown of international loans than to meet interest payments by continuing to impoverish the public sector including schools, the NHS, and social care. Corbyn’s Labour seek to create better wages, and a better standard of living for all working people. Even the 5%, or 1 in 20 people who would pay higher taxes will actually earn more collectively, in a better performing economy.

But are Labour not demonstrably, historically worse at running the economy that the Conservatives? You may be surprised, since this is a claim made daily, usually by more than one Tory politician, that it simply does not bear scrutiny. It isn’t true. (1) The Conservatives have been the biggest borrowers over 70 years. (2) Labour have borrowed less and paid back more debt than the Tories even during the ‘Neo-Liberal era’ since 1979. (3) 130 leading economists endorsed Labour’s spending plans as detailed in their 2017 manifesto. Many issues are misrepresented regarding their ‘cost’ to the state of course; the ‘huge’ cost of renationalising key industries such as the railways is a case in point. In this case the systemic change would occur in stages, as the existing franchises expired, the lines will become state owned and operated. In other nationalisations, the principle which applies is that the industry is bought, effectively, with government bonds sold on the debt market providing the funds to purchase the shareholding, either majority or total, and take control thereby of future profits. The obsession with selling off the public sector to private interests, for profit, has been enduring and extensive. And value is extracted from the water, power, and transport sectors, from refuse, prisons, NHS, parts of the Courts System, Police, Care Homes, collection of business rates, Army recruitment, TV licensing, custodial and immigration services, and disability assessment. Do we want or need private companies extracting value (private sector profit) from these services? In many cases nationalised or part nationalised businesses in other states are the ultimate beneficiary.

But he has voted against ‘anti-terror’ legislation time and again, that is true. Does he want terrorists on our streets or something? No. Jeremy Corbyn voted in the main, against anti-terror legislation which was frequently framed to permit definitions of terrorism which impinged on our own rights or civil liberties, against 14 day detention, (so did May), against Control Orders, (so did May), against ID cards, (so did May), against 90 day detention, (so did May), against the Counter Terrorism Act 2008, another attempt to extend detention without charge (to 42 days on this occasion) ,a vote from which May was absent, against TPIMs, which May supported. Do we want our politicians to speak out if they see legislation being proposed which whist having a specific claimed purpose, creates the possibility of loose interpretation or wanton misuse, against our own interests? It is right that our civil rights are front and centre of such debates, and this is the reason why so much ‘anti-terror legislation has been either defeated or considerably amended between readings. Corbyn wants the public to be safe, but from the abuse of process by the state, as well as from terrorism.

But the Unions though, bunch of leftie troublemakers! Maggie sorted them out. The relationship between Labour and Trade Unions is as old as the Party itself. Trade Unions were once just about the only organised resistance to the systematic abuse of British workers. The Labour Party, originally the Labour Representation Committee, was formed to increase workers’ representation in Parliament, a Parliament made up almost exclusively of the historical ‘powers that be’, the Tories (Conservatives) and the Whigs (Liberals). The function of a trade union is to look after the interests of its members, and that is as true today as it has ever been. The fact that Thatcher era propaganda ‘demonised’ Unions has been entirely to the advantage of business. The Labour Party and the Trade Unions of today, (although stripped of much of the power they once had) are a bulwark against the worst excesses of the exploitation of Labour. If you hold to the Thatcherite view of unions, and are not leading a large corporation, you would do well to study the reality behind the rhetoric.

But the nuclear button. How could we have a Prime Minister who wouldn’t defend us against our enemies? Corbyn doesn’t even want us to have a nuclear capability. He wants to scrap the Trident replacement programme. Jeremy Corbyn has stated, on record, “We want a secure and peaceful world. We achieve that by promoting peace, but also by promoting security”. What he has also said, (in paraphrase) whilst holding to the opinion that all wars are a failure of diplomacy, is that there are circumstances in which he would support military action. But reluctant to send our soldiers to foreign lands to pursue political objectives? Unpersuaded that we have not in the past been too quick to adopt the military option, on occasion embarking on wars which were illegal in international law? Yes, without doubt. So he is someone committed to defending our interests, but in search always of a nonviolent, peaceful, negotiated solution to potential conflict, who approaches military options as a ‘last resort’? I would hope that this approach to defence would be popular with most reasonably minded people.

He is as is well known, a unilateralist. Which means that Britain under Corbyn would be seeking to take the lead in international efforts to bring about an end to nuclear weapons globally. We would pass legislation to dismantle our own nuclear arsenal, and seek to do so whilst leading an international initiative aimed at achieving, by negotiation, a nuclear free world. There is a credible roadmap to nuclear disarmament, and there are options, when such a process is complete, to see that no country develops such a capability again. I would hope that all our descendants are born into a world in which the threat of total annihilation is no longer ever present. Could any of us claim, in circumstances where Jeremy Corbyn is asked to consider authorising the killing of hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians, that as a civilisation we have achieved anything worthwhile? The dogma of mutually assured destruction is outdated. There are simply so many ‘battlefield weapons’, also known as ‘tactical nuclear weapons’, for the M.A.D. logic to remain credible. When generals in the field have access to small, strategic warheads, designed to create tactical advantage by eliminating mere thousands of troops, (and any civilians in the very localised blast zone) we have a recipe for a disastrous escalation.

Jeremy Corbyn is a peacemaker, a military ‘dove’, who wishes to use the position of Leader of the Labour Party and Prime Minister to improve the circumstances of the British people, whilst seeking also to take initiatives to stabilise, and make more peaceful the wider world. Those who seek to convince us that this is ideological and unachievable are frequently those who are in some form benefiting from the huge sums spent each year around the world, on ‘things to kill people with’.

What you could be passing up, with your determination to not rationally reassess your view of Jeremy Corbyn, is everything you ever dreamed of. For you, your children and your children’s children. This is not hyperbole, this is about the future not just of the UK, but the world. You and I share a world where $1.6 trillion is spent on ‘defence’. The collective means to harm one another. One point six thousand BILLION dollars, at immense cost to the mere seven billion inhabitants of the planet. A stack of dollars, every year, which piled up would stretch over 80,000 miles. Yes, we spend annually, as a civilisation, a pile of money eighty thousand miles high, on stuff to harm one another. Or if stacked on their side, more than three times around the circumference of the earth.I don’t want that to continue, Jeremy Corbyn doesn’t want that to continue, and we neither of us could imagine that you want this to continue. The spend on the collective means to harm one another equates to $240 per head for every living being; 3 billion of whom currently live on less than $2.50 per day. Jeremy Corbyn’s call for talk, diplomacy, consensus, agreement, rather than war, is informed by many things. The most powerful is the idea that we really shouldn’t be killing one another. (378,000 deaths per year attributed to wars during the relatively peaceful 1985 to 1994.) It isn’t a civilised way to behave. But another important factor is the 1.6 thousand billion dollars could be used in so many more humane and socially beneficial ways. In the UK we spend forty five thousand million pounds a year on ‘defence’. And Jeremy Corbyn is not even suggesting a reduction to the ‘defence’ budget. In fact, since the war the Tories have on average reduced the defence budget by 0.5% during each year in power. Labour in power, over the same period, have increased defence spending by 2.4% per year. We can talk later about other ways to spend that money, but for the moment I would like to explain why I am talking in largely global terms, about one party leader, in one country, the UK. It is because a better WORLD is possible.

Jeremy Corbyn is not a figure without parallel in global politics. There are, and have always been leaders of parties or even countries, whose objective has been the best possible future for their people. Senator Bernie Sanders ran a campaign in the US Presidential ‘primaries’ which enjoyed huge (yuge) popular support, for an agenda which promised to give greater power to individual Americans in the process and management of the US political system. He faced seemingly insurmountable odds, not least because of the enormous amount of money needed to even campaign effectively. That he did not win the Democratic Party nomination is largely due to a particularly undemocratic structure within the party’s nomination system. He ran Hilary Clinton almost to the wire, and in the end, it was power and money in the hands of an elite which prevented his election as the Democratic Party Presidential nominee. Sanders also represented a fairer, kinder politics. For the many, not the few, to borrow a phrase.

Instead, Trump triumphed against Clinton, in a contest which could easily have produced a very different result had the race been between Sanders and Trump. But in a little over 3 years, Americans will return to the polling booths. Were that to coincide with a Jeremy Corbyn Labour Party in power in the UK, the impulse toward real change could become irresistible. If you can begin to imagine a world where the most powerful leaders, of the most powerful countries, were genuinely committed to a peaceful world in which the living and working conditions, the health and fortune of the average person was of primary importance, things could change for the better very quickly.

(1) http://www.taxresearch.org.uk/Blog/2016/03/13/the-conservatives-have-been-the-biggest-borrowers-over-the-last-70-years/

(2) http://www.taxresearch.org.uk/Blog/2016/03/14/labour-have-borrowed-less-and-repaid-more-than-the-conservatives-since-1979/

(3) http://www.primeeconomics.org/articles/guws3cyv3ctq9g7vg754p2zyymvc2f/

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rosebloodcat · 7 years ago

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Harry and the Ink Demon Chapter 2- Discovery

Joey Drew, Harry had decided, was utterly barmy. The building had looked confusing on paper, but apparently the former studio director had thought it would be a grand idea to turn the place into a full on maze.

Harry had already gotten lost twice, but after living in Hogwarts for six years he had quickly gotten his head around his mental floor plan of the building. Though even that was a work in progress as he discovered the various changes Drew had made to the building. He was going to tear out a few of the walls, that much he'd figured out. But he'd found a few interesting things during his exploration.

He'd found a handful of tape recordings left by a few old employees (and they didn't sound very happy with their boss, not that he blamed them), some old drafts and model sheets of Bendy from the animator's cubicles/closets (he'd bagged those, even the one sticky note of an overly cutesy version of the little devil), an employee cafeteria (he was keeping that, unless the there were nasty magics on the lower floors), and a couple other knickknacks that may have belonged to former employees that he'd stowed away in his satchel. He wouldn't keep all the things he'd snagged, but having a few things to bid off to collectors would certainly help fund getting the studio up and running again.

He knew could be a klepto at times, a hold over from when he'd had nothing to call his own, so a good portion of it would be stowed away at home.

Maybe he'd give a few of the toys to Teddy. Or Luna, she'd grown rather fond of the toons when he would draw them with her menagerie of creatures (She wanted to help at the company once he got it going).

But that hadn't been the most bazar discovery he'd made in the dilapidated studio, no. That honor belonged to the machine he'd found early on in his exploration. A contraption that looked like a warped chimera of a water heater, a fire hose pump, and a clockwork engine of some kind. It had made his skin crawl, and his magic roil inside him. Something about it just felt- Unnatural. He wanted to blast the thing teeny, tiny pieces and hand the remains over to MASUCA's Department of Mysteries. He didn't like it one bit, and when his instincts gave him those kind of warnings, he would usually listen to them.

But with how the piping from the machine wove into the building, he wasn't sure if destroying it was safe or a smart idea. For all he knew, it could have brought the studio down on his head. And now he had to turn the blasted thing on. He didn't want to, not even the curious side of his that had survived the war wanted to touch it, but he wasn't getting a choice in the matter. For one single reason.

Drew had somehow turned the machine into the main source of power for the entire Studio.

It was worse since Harry had been allowed to see the reports and knew for a fact certain doors in the studio could only be opened if the power was on. And the light would be needed as he went deeper into the building, what with all the windows being boarded up.

And if Harry was cussing out Drew as he stalked through the halls? Well, who would know other than him?

Harry rubbed his brow, struggling to ward off his impending headache. This was not what he wanted to be doing.

THUD! Clatter!

He jolted in alarm at the sudden noise that cut through the mostly silent studio like a freshly sharpened knife. Harry's head shot up, green-eyes flicking about to find the source of the sound. His shoulders sagged in relief when he spotted what had caused the noise. It was just a board that had fallen from the ceiling of the t-section ahead of him.

"Bloody stars, that gave me a start. This place is gonna need more work than I thought," the wizard said with a tired sigh, running a hand through his bangs. He would need to re-tie his tie his hair soon, he noted, feeling various strands snag on his fingers. He strode further down the hall, squinting up at the spot where the board fell from.

"That's odd..." He muttered, squinting upwards.

Harry couldn't find the spot where the board had fallen from. There were no holes in the ceiling that matched it, and the boards that were there were pressed too close together to even be loose. It couldn't have fallen from there, unless...

He growled.

"Is someone pranking me? If there is, this ain't funny lads!" He called, aggravation showing through in his tone and bringing out the slight Scottish/Irish verbal ticks he'd picked up from Seamus and Professor McGonagall. He glared at the ceiling, as though he thought if he glared at it long enough that it would make the hidden prankster reveal themselves and grovel for forgiveness. It didn't.

He let out a frustrated huff, shaking his head.

'Now then, left or right?' he thought to himself, 'Let's try right.'

He turned down the right path into a small room with six pedestals, and a large switch framed by two large black pipes against the opposite wall. It looked strangely, well, toony. Almost like someone had drawn it onto the wall, if it weren't for the faint shadows being caste, Harry would have thought he'd been punk'd by the same person who may-or-may-not have rigged the falling board. He didn't know how to describe how just plain weird this place was.

"Well, I guess I've finally found the break room Franks mentioned in his recording Now how do I get this thing working?" He approached the switch (lever? It was hard to really tell), which was oh-so-helpfully labelled 'Main Power' with a little 'Caution' placed right under it. A flashing screen sat next to it, reading 'Low Pressure'. He stifled a groan. "Oh, why can't anything ever be easy? Just once in my life I'd like things to be simple."

He knew from the recording that he'd need something from each employee's desk to get things running, and there were six pedestals in the room. It wasn't much of a leap to assume he would need that many items (and he wasn't going to call them sacrifices, the term didn't sit well with him. At al). Now the question was, what exactly did he need?

He looked back at the pedestals, there was a picture behind each one. Perhaps the pictures were what he needed to find?

"Let's see here, I'm going to need a wrench, an ink bottle, a toy, a gear, a book, and something related to music." He muttered, Harry dug through his bag for the things he'd picked up while wandering through the studio. Surely there were a few that would do the trick.

"I think the record I found would go with the music note." He set it on the pedestal, and froze when a soft light started up, casting light on the object he'd just placed. Either there was one of those pressure switches he'd heard about there, or there really was magic at work there. He swallowed nervously, eyeing the pedestal with distrust.

"Th-then the ink well from one of the animator's desks." He hesitantly put it in place, and jolted when the same thing happed again.

"And the wrench." The process was repeated, right down to the eerie light. They were the only things he'd found that matched the pictures, he'd have to go back through the studio to find the other three objects. He shook he head trying to ward of his anxiety. He really didn't like this.

"Now, where would those- ACK!!" Harry jumped in alarm when he turned around the corner and almost walked into a Bendy cutout that had most certainly not been there a few moments ago. It was positioned right in the middle of the hallway, almost like it was trying to block his path. "Who put this here?!"

Harry scowled, his nerves still somewhat addled from the 'sacrifice' room. Someone had to be pranking him. And it really wasn't funny. He started to wind himself up to track the prankster down and give them a piece of his mind ala Molly Weasley. But a flickering light caught his eye.

"What the-?" He knew that kind of light. After spending years in the magical world (where electricity was practically non-existent), he would have had to be a fool not to.

That was the light of a candle. More than one. Who would be lighting a candle in a building full of flammable items like paper and rubber ink? Were they mad?! They could make the studio catch fire! Harry side-stepped the cutout, his expressions furious.

There was someone in the room with the candles. Someone wearing dull brown overalls and standing far too still. Harry quickened his pace, he anger fading with each step. He inhaled sharply once he reached the threshold of the room.

There was a body strapped to something that looked eerily like an operating table, hanging limply with their chest ripped open, ribs broken and wrenched wide, showing a hollowed out chest. Like their heart had been ripped out, and the rest of their body left to rot in the open. The scene looked even more horrifying with the light of the candles illuminating the from. And the wizard, though he'd never met them, recognized the person in question.

'This-this can't be possible...'

"B-Boris?" Harry stared in open horror at the scene before him.

Boris the Wolf had been Bendy's closest, and rather absent minded, friend. A sweet, lovable character who was more like an oversized puppy and didn't have a angry bone in his body. Harry had always had a soft spot for the wolf, he'd reminded the wizard of Hagrid and Remus. Intimidating in some aspects, but almost bursting at the seams with kindness for the people around him.

Seeing him strapped up like that, his insides exposed and with toony X's over his eyes, it seemed too surreal to be possible. Toons weren't real, it shouldn't be possible to-to kill them like this. But the rancid smell that permeated the room said otherwise, a horrid combination of rubber ink and rotting meat. Harry reacted in the only reason way to finding and impossible cadaver, he bent to one side and retched.

Braced against the wall, the wizard kept heaving until there was nothing left his stomach to force out. He coughed hard, grimacing at the taste of bile in his mouth.

Harry wasn't a squeamish person, not since the war, but he just... He hadn't been prepared for that. He hadn't been prepared to find the-the corpse of one of the cartoon characters he was so fond of. He raised his eyes to see inky writing scrawled on the wall.

"Who's laughing now?!"

'Not me, that's for sure.' Harry thought, turning his mournful gaze to Boris' prone form.

"I wanted to know if magic had been used here, but this wasn't what I expected. This is just- Oh Boris," He breathed, his voice quivering as his eyes roamed over the Wolf's form. Flashes from the war flickered at the back of his mind, but he forced them back with a shudder. This was- He had to find out what happened here, how this was even possible, and more importantly, find out who had done this.

Harry tore his gaze from the gruesome sight and started searching the room for something, anything that could explain what had transpired here. But there was nothing, just Boris, the table he lay on, the writing on the wall, and an old, rather pathetic looking plush doll of Bendy. He would have to find his answer's elsewhere.

He carefully picked up the toy, knowing it was one of the things he needed, not daring look back at the wolf.

He hesitated at the door, he wanted to pull Boris down from the table and give him some respect by not leaving him like that. But MASUCA, from what he'd gathered, was far more strict about following the laws they laid out. They were closer to muggle procedures about law enforcement, Harry could respect that. He could respect them trying to keep the scenes from being tampered with and not risking important evidence being damaged. Even if his morals weren't happy about leaving a victim in such a state.

"I'm so sorry Boris, I can't do anything for you right now. But I promise, once the authorities know about this, I'll make sure you get the proper respects. You have my word." Harry said, his voice sounding pained as he looked back at the wolf. He had no idea if anyone, let alone Boris could hear him, but making the promise helped ease his mind. He steeled his resolve and headed back into the halls.

He had to locate the last two items he needed to "appease the gods" (and that was an incredibly worrying phrase for something like this) to get things going. He could only hope ho could find his answers once that was done. But as he left he couldn't help asking,

'Just what have I gotten myself into this time?' - - AN: Well, done with this one. It's a lot shorter than the last one, but I wanted to focus on the important pieces of the story. After all, listening to Harry wander around a studio with nothing really going on is actually kind of boring, right?

I think the descriptions came out pretty good, don't you?

#Harry Potter #hatid #harry in batim #Harry and the Ink Demon #bendy the dancing demon #Bendy and the Ink Machine #batim #fanfiction #fanart

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