#beacon commerce

[beaconcommerce]

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[shamballalin]

The New Colossus from IN THEIR IMAGE AND LIKENESS subtitled THE RED BAG OF COURAGE SURVIVAL WISDOM ~book 3 in this series not yet published

“Social justice became another life contract I made. I was to have a very busy life standing up for the life, liberty, and justice for all that the United States of America was supposed to stand. “Much of humanity at the turn of the century claimed to stand for the flag, life, liberty, and freedom while ignorantly supporting those with racist, xenophobic, and authoritarian ideologies. I thought…

[amazonmarketingagency]

Lab 916: Your Partner in Crafting Winning Amazon Strategies

Introduction: Lab 916's Expertise in Amazon Strategy

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Introduction: Lab 916's Expertise in Amazon Strategy

In the ever-evolving world of e-commerce, Lab 916 stands as a beacon of expertise, providing businesses with tailored Amazon strategies to succeed in the competitive marketplace. With a deep understanding of Amazon's algorithms, trends, and best practices, Lab 916 helps businesses navigate the complexities of selling on the platform and achieve their goals.

Strategic Planning with Lab 916

Lab 916 takes a strategic approach to Amazon strategy development, focusing on optimizing product listings, implementing competitive pricing strategies, leveraging advertising tactics, and fostering customer engagement. By customizing strategies to align with each client's unique objectives and market dynamics, Lab 916 ensures that businesses can maximize their potential on Amazon.

Optimizing Product Listings for Maximum Visibility

A crucial aspect of Lab 916's Amazon strategy is optimizing product listings to enhance visibility and drive conversions. Through meticulous keyword research, compelling product descriptions, and high-quality imagery, Lab 916 ensures that each product listing is optimized to rank higher in Amazon search results. By improving the visibility and appeal of product listings, businesses can attract more customers and increase sales.

Implementing Competitive Pricing Strategies

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Leveraging Advertising Tactics for Enhanced Visibility

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Fostering Customer Engagement and Loyalty

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[yinyuedijun]

translation

Aventurine doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you. (Or: You are the only person in the universe who understands Aventurine in his mother tongue. He often regrets teaching it to you.)

5k words. gender neutral reader, established relationship, angst, non-graphic sex (reader bottoms, anatomy neutral), themes of cultural loss, references to slavery, aventurine’s canonically implied desire to die. MDNI.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

Deception does not come easily to him in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak—and too kind. The universe was a different place in the days when his life was coloured by the warble of Avgin dialect. It felt simpler, partly because he was a child and partly because Sigonia was yet untouched by outsiders. There were no corporations, no casinos, no commodity codes. His entire world was sand, desert, mother, sister, father (or more often—ghost), goddess, tent, wagon, luck, sin, rain, blessing, Avgin.

Katican.

Aventurine is sure that he knew more than just those words. He was fluent as a child. He had conversations with his sister that were complex enough to make his heart hurt, though perhaps his heart was just constantly aching anyway. But the rest of his early words escapes him. He could maybe dredge them up if he thinks long enough, but he also isn't sure if his tongue and lips could form the shape of them anymore. Sometimes he still counts in Avgin, memorises phone numbers in it, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually strung together a full sentence in the language.

When Aventurine was first stolen into slavery (a word that he had not known as a child, and still doesn't know in Avgin), he wasn’t given a Synesthesia Beacon. He had to rely on his ears and his wits, deciphering the harsh edges of the Katican dialect and then the strange garble of Interastral Standard Language. By the time he had a Beacon installed, it was already translating all speech into Standard—his dominant language.

Sometimes he feels a little aggrieved by it, but at least it wasn't Katican. He'd have blown out his brains if it were.

But it is easy to console himself: Avgin is not a useful language anyway. Dead languages have no value, and the Avgin dialect was killed along with its people. You can’t perform commerce in a dead language, can't negotiate contracts, can't enter a gambling den and use your silver tongue to rob people blind. You can't use a dead language to fell governments and extract resources; you can't use a dead language to bring an entire planet to its knees. You can’t use a dead language to gamble your life; you can't use it to save yourself from the gallows.

You cannot deceive people in a language that is defined by sand, sister, goddess, ghost.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin. His command of it is too weak, and there is no one left to which he can lie, anyway.

When you ask Aventurine to teach you his first language, he gives you an amused look.

“Why Avgin?” he asks. “No one speaks it anymore. I can teach you Common Sigonian if you’d like. Or we could learn Xianzhounese together. Maybe Intellitron code? I know a little.”

“You speak Avgin,” you argue.

“Not often,” he says. “And badly when I do.”

“But it's still your language. And I want to understand you.”

Aventurine has to stop himself from laughing. Understand him? He hates being understood. When people understand him, it makes him predictable. And unlikeable. Hardly a position from which he can manipulate people in.

You understand him well enough to know that.

“You'll have to give me a better reason than that,” he says neatly. “Make it worth my while. Reward me.”

You look at him as you ponder, your eyes lingering on his. Perhaps trying to read him, though he prefers to think you're just enjoying the sight of them.

“I’ll teach you my language as well?”

“You mean—you'll reward my hard labour with more work?” he says, lighthearted.

You frown at him despite the joke. “You don't want to understand me better than what a Synesthesia Beacon would allow?” He blinks, pausing. “It’ll be convenient too. We can talk shit about other people in public and no one will understand us.”

Aventurine considers you. He doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you.

He also likes the idea of talking shit in public.

“I'm listening,” he says, voice lilting. You lean in, smiling. Sweet. It makes his heart feel something he isn't used to. Something addictive. Something disgusting. He scrambles to cover it with one of the usual tools: humour or distraction or maybe just plain old lying—his most reliable weapon.

“I'll throw in a kiss?” you try.

He hums. “Just one?”

“One per day.”

“Three.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“Well, I am a businessman.”

You snort, but he knows you're endeared. You have very noticeable tells when you’re flustered.

“Okay,” you say. “Three kisses on days you teach me.”

“Deal.”

Aventurine remembers more Avgin than he thought he would.

It comes to him slowly, painstakingly. You aren't interested in structured lessons, and he wouldn't be able to provide them anyway. He has a nonexistent grasp of grammar aside from this sounds right and that sounds strange, and Avgin dialect is both so niche and so dead that no textbooks are available. The scholars have abandoned the language as much as the politicians abandoned its people. Aventurine only has you, his fragmented memory, and whatever questions come to mind as you live out your days with him.

Mostly, you ask him about basic vocabulary. Sometimes you ask him to repeat sentences from your conversations in Avgin, like he’s some kind of multilingual parrot. Each prompt forces him to wade through the fog in his mind, the one that’s been shrouding his childhood memories until now. He's startled at how naturally the old words roll off his tongue: One, two, three, four. Good morning. Good evening. Good night. Sweet dreams. Five, six, seven, eight. You're lying to me. Why do you always lie to me? I don't know what you're talking about. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Welcome home. Have you eaten? Have some bread. I made you stew. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty. That was dangerous. I thought you wouldn't make it back to me. Sometimes I think you want to die. One hundred, one thousand, one million, one billion. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

When you say, How do I ask you to let me hold you, he answers easily. He'd heard the words so often as a child: Let me hold you, Kakavasha. Let Mama hold you. His mouth forms the sounds without conscious thought.

He regrets it almost immediately.

When Aventurine hears it from you—stilted, halting, but no less gentle—he stops breathing. Let me hold you. You say it all the time in Standard, but it feels different in Avgin. More painful. A strange sense of panic closes in on him when he's wrapped up in you, thinking in Avgin, thinking sand, sister, goddess, ghost. He holds you tightly, like the rags cut from his father’s shirt, or his mother’s locket won back from the shell-slashers, or a bag of poker chips beneath a card table, clutched within his trembling grip.

“Aventurine, is something wrong?” you ask in Avgin, and he replies in Standard with his usual smile.

“Hm? No. What could be wrong if I have you here?”

Lying is one of his greatest tools. Sex is another one. So he says, “I think I'd like my reward now,” and he runs his lips along your jaw, your pulse, the spot over your heart (there's a word for that in Avgin but not Standard, he tells you), until you're laughing. I thought you wanted three kisses, you tease, and he replies, Who said I wanted to kiss you on the mouth?

But he coaxes open your thighs, and once he's inside you, he collects his payment properly. He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and you swallow his lies whole.

There are some things that Aventurine doesn't teach you. Mostly, they’re things that he can’t teach you.

There are countless gaps in his Avgin. His speech is painfully childish—probably more childish than it was when he actually stopped speaking it. He doesn't know how to swear (something that disappoints you) and he doesn't know how to flirt (something that devastates you). He doesn’t know any words that would be useful for work either: commercialization, governance, stakes, winnings, profit. When you ask him what his job title is in Avgin (“Was senior management even a thing in Avgin society?”), he laughs and gives you the word for gambler.

Then there are the words that he remembers—has remembered his whole life—but never says. Not to you, and not to himself. He doesn't teach you any prayers. He doesn't teach you any blessings. He doesn't teach you about Mama Fenge, or the Kakava Festival, or how the rain fell when he was born. When you ask him, What holidays did you celebrate when you were little? he shrugs and says, We didn't have any. Sigonia’s too bleak to do any partying.

Then you ask him one day, while your bodies are spent in the afterglow of sex, sticky with sweat and sweetness, how to say I love you. And he goes quiet.

Love is a cheap word in Interastral Standard. In the language of globalisation and trade, love has been commercialised, commodified, capitalised for power. You say it to him in many contexts: I love this, I love that, I love you. He hardly ever reacts, and he's never said it back. It would feel unnecessary and also cruel if he did: Aventurine has only ever said the words himself as either a joke or a manipulation.

But love feels different in Avgin than in Interastral Standard, doesn't sound like a thing that can be traded or bought. Kakavasha only ever said the word love to his mother, to his sister, to his father's grave. Love in his mother tongue feels priceless.

When Aventurine thinks about you saying it—I love you, Kakavasha, in clumsy, earnest Avgin—something so painful swells in his throat that he can hardly breathe.

“There is no word for love in my language,” he tells you.

You blink. “Okay, then what's an idiom for it?”

“There is none. There’s no word or phrase expressing love.”

You raise a brow. “That’s hard to believe.”

“Is it?” He smiles. “There’s no Avgin in the known universe who cares about love. Only scheming, thieving, and treachery—and you can't do those things when love is involved.”

You look at him in alarm. “Why are you saying that?” You're practically squirming in your discomfort. “I don't know why you think I'd believe such a racist stereotype.”

“It’s not a stereotype,” he says. “I'm not talking about the Avgin culture. I'm talking about myself.”

After all, he is the only Avgin left.

It is an unfair thing to say. A cruel thing to say. After all the laughing and kissing and crying and fucking, after all the tender eyes and gentle words from you—it is probably the worst pain imaginable: I don't give a shit about you. He waits for you to cry.

But you only stare at him calmly, studying him. You brush the hair out of his eyes, seeing them clearly.

“If you lie to me all the time,” you say in Avgin, “eventually I'll stop believing anything you say.”

Aventurine is speechless. His heart does that addictive, disgusting thing again. He thinks about leaving, but then you say, Let me hold you, and he can't do anything other than obey.

Avgin dialect was once included in the Synesthesia Beacon list of functions. The Intelligentsia Guild added it before the Second Katica-Avgin Extinction Event, when the IPC was trying to get a political foothold on Sigonia via the Avgin people. The language was alive then, with enough value to be included into the Synesthesia LLM by the linguists.

But since the Extinction Event—since Kakavasha ran away from home—the Synesthesia data on Avgin has been stagnant, a fossil. Aventurine knows because he's subscribed to software updates for certain languages (Avgin Sigonian, Common Sigonian, Interastral Standard, and now your mother tongue). He gets pinged every time there's a new addition for slang, for neologisms—but there hasn't been a ping for the Avgin dialect since he had the Beacon installed. The live translation function hasn't even been available since the previous Amber Era. When he checks its page on his Synesthesia app, it's very clear why—

SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 0 STATUS: Extinct END OF SERVICE: 2156 AE

The complete death of the language has led to an irritating dilemma for you and Aventurine. You keep running into words that he doesn't know—this time not because of his childlike speech, but because they never existed in his language to begin with. Ocean, tropical, rainforest. Starskiff, accelerator, space fleet. Stock market, shortselling, mutual funds. Black hole, event horizon, spaghettification. All things that never came up for Kakavasha, but now come up for Aventurine, and the language has not evolved to include it.

He always wants to switch to Standard to discuss these things, but you're insistent on speaking in Avgin as much as possible. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't mind humouring you—partly because he likes to indulge you, and partly because he’s grown used to hearing the honeyed timbre of Avgin dialect in your household. The place would feel strange without it.

So you start filling the gaps with other languages, filtering them through the lyricism of Avgin. Loanwords, he thinks they’re called. You take ocean, tropical, rainforest from Amazian; starskiff, accelerator, space fleet from Xianzhounese; stock market, shortselling, mutual funds from Interastral Standard. For the astrophysics terms, you try directly translating them—with limited success.

“Can't I literally just say ‘black hole’?” you ask in Avgin, and he nearly spits out his coffee.

“Please don't. That's a dirty word.” He can't bring himself to say what it means, but from the way you’re laughing, you can clearly guess.

“I thought you said you didn't know how to swear.”

“You've just reminded me how.”

“You're welcome.” You look on the verge of cackling. Aventurine finishes his coffee and wonders when you're going to surprise him with your newfound vulgarity.

“Let's just do the space terms based on Standard,” he says. Begs.

“No, that's so boring.”

“Then let's do your language.”

You open your mouth. Close it. Give him a blank look.

“You don't know how to say those words in your mother tongue either, do you,” he intuits.

“Well, ‘spaghettification’ doesn't really come up in everyday conversation, does it?”

“Then maybe we don't need it.” He smiles, senses an opportunity. Smells blood. “How about ‘love’? I'd much rather know how you say that. I bet it sounds beautiful.”

You give him a long look. Your eyes are vulnerable when you share it: Love. I love you. He’s fascinated by the sound of it. Your voice is never that fragile when you say it in Standard. It's never so earnest. He repeats it, staring at you, and your gaze falls to the ground. His mouth curls.

“I like it,” he says. “Let's use that. It'll sound nice in Avgin.”

You try to recover. “Sure. That works. But back to ‘black hole’—”

And the two of you continue like that for days, weeks, months. It feels like a complete bastardization of his mother tongue on some days, in some conversations. Almost unrecognisable. But it doesn't feel bad. It’s all he has, it's all you have, and when he walks into your home, he starts speaking it without thinking: your bastard, patchwork language. The Avgin dialect that exists only in your house. A tongue that can only be understood by a liar.

And then, one lazy Sunday morning, he gets a familiar ping. He expects it to be Interastral Standard, as usual. The language balloons with each planet that the IPC colonises.

But instead, he opens his screen and freezes.

SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 2 STATUS: Endangered. SERVICE RESUMED: 2157 AE NEW UPDATES: 103 loanwords and 5 neologisms added.

He can't stop looking at the status. Endangered. Endangered, which means dying, but alive. The Avgin dialect is alive again. The Intelligentsia Guild determined it, so it must be true. But Aventurine can't agree: there are no Avgin speakers in the known universe other than the two of you, and what you speak isn't real Avgin. The Avgin spoken by his mother and father and sister is dead; the Avgin spoken by Kakavasha is dead. The festivals are gone; the deserts have been terraformed. There are no wagons; there are no dances; there are no prayers. There are no blessings, and he has no home—

As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.

His throat locks up.

“Aventurine?” you ask. Your voice is drowsy, but concerned. “Is something wrong?”

He looks at you from his phone, a polished smile on his face.

“No.” His syllables are plain and efficient in the noise of Interastral Standard: “Just looking at details for a new assignment. It’ll be a long one.”

“Oh.” You frown. “Will you be away from home for a long time, then?”

He stops himself from swallowing. “Yes, I'll be away from the house. For several months, probably.”

“Okay.” Your voice is small. “Take care of yourself, okay? I'll miss you.”

Each word you speak resonates with heartbreak. It always does in these conversations, even in Standard—but the sorrow is amplified in Avgin. His mother tongue has an inherently sad quality to it, he's noticed. His people have lost so much over their history—their language is one of loss. It's his language of loss. Kakavasha did all his grieving in Avgin; Aventurine has never felt sorrow in Standard. When the language died, so did Kakavasha—and all his regrets with it.

“You'll come home to me, right?” you ask. It's a beautiful sentence in Avgin. A heartrending one. He feels something that he hasn't known since he was a child.

It's a feeling he has to kill.

“Yes,” he says in Standard. “Of course I'll come back.”

This is not the first time that Aventurine has been mistaken for dead, but this is the longest time.

The latest world to join the IPC network was a tough acquisition. It had been ruled by a despot who wreaked havoc on both the people and the planet, and who was too stupid and reckless to resolve conflicts with his trade partners. He probably would have blown up the whole star system had he been left to his own devices. Aventurine had no qualms about bringing him to ruin, nor did he have qualms about nearly dying in the process.

If things had gone his way, he'd either be dead or missing. This would have been the perfect opportunity to do the latter, actually—to be freed from the IPC. Free to drift alone, speaking with strangers in strange, unfamiliar tongues. No connection to his past, to the cruel history of his luck, to his commodity code. No tether to his inherently unjust destiny. But instead he's back in your house, pockets heavy with his borrowed wealth, speaking to you in his bastardised, childish Avgin. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

Your Avgin is—shockingly fluent. He doesn't know how. He can't think about it right now. All he can process is the wounded animal noise of your speech as you yell at him, as you cry. Like an injured songbird, or a weeping child. Why did you leave, why did you lie, why do you always lie to me, why don't you give a shit about me, you spit. Why do you want to die, why do you want to die, why do you want to die, you keep saying. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost, he keeps hearing. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost. Don't leave me, big sister. People will die. Why do you have to go?

“I’m sorry,” he tries again, this time in your language. “I'm so sorry. Come here. Let me hold you.”

You collapse into your mother tongue. Aventurine is both relieved and horrified. Relieved that he doesn't need to hear the language of his grief—horrified that he needs to hear yours. He's never heard you cry like this. He's never heard you break like this. These must have been the words you used when the soldiers found you hiding in your closet, when they dragged you out of your home. You were just a child.

Aventurine doesn't know the words you are using—you've never taught them—but he still understands them.

You're very malleable when you’re sad; even more so when you're hysterical. Aventurine understands this about you, and he understands how to calm you—this time in your native tongue—and he understands how to kiss you. He understands that you need to feel close to him. He understands that there are ways to accomplish this other than sex. A normal person would talk it out, have an honest conversation, come to a mutual understanding, and maybe even stop trying to kill himself. They wouldn't fuck you into the mattress while your face is still wet with tears.

But Aventurine is not a normal person. He doesn't know how to have an honest conversation, and he doesn't want to be understood. Lying is his greatest weapon, and sex is a close second. So he kisses you until you’re too breathless to cry, fucks you until you can't think, and makes you come so hard that you’re in too much bliss to grieve. And maybe it's horrible of him, but he enjoys it. He enjoys the way your body takes him in so easily, the way your nails dig into his back, the way you tighten around him when you climax, so wet and needy for him. The way you beg for him in your language for liars as he spends himself inside you: I love you, Aventurine, I love you, I love you, I love you—

Only because it feels good. This is all only because he enjoys fucking you. This is all only because you enjoy fucking him. This is all it'll ever be, and it'll be this way until he gets to meet his end.

(Some months ago, Aventurine started dreaming in Avgin.

It surprised him when he first noticed it. The last time he remembers having a dream in his native tongue, he was twelve years old and still in chains. And even then, it had become a sporadic, strange thing. Awful to wake up from. One minute he was with his mother and sister on a cool, rainy day, speaking fluently in Avgin as he laughed and played—and the next minute, he was being shaken awake in his cage, hearing the cruel lash of Katican.

But ever since he's started speaking Avgin with you, he's been dreaming in it. Vividly. Sometimes he's a child in these dreams, and sometimes he's grown. He's always back in the Sigonian desert, among the tents and the campfires and his family wagons. His mother and sister are alive. Sometimes his father is too. The skies roar with thunder and the stellar winds are always harsh, but they always keep him cocooned up in their arms. He's always warm.

Sometimes Aventurine dreams of nicer days. Clear skies, warm sun, cool breeze—all blessings from the Mother Goddess. On these days, he tends to be an adult, and you tend to be there with him. Your Avgin is fluent but strange, filled with funny loanwords and peculiar slang. His father likes the neologisms and starts using them—but only in wrong ways. His sister finds it embarrassing and keeps apologising to you.

His mother loves you. She loves you so much it hurts. This is how I know you're blessed, Kakavasha, she says, glowing. You’re so lucky to have found such a kind person.

Kakavasha knows this. He knows he's lucky, and in his dreams, that isn't a bad thing. In his dreams, his luck means that his home is not violently excised from his heart: his father never dies; his mother never dies; his sister never dies. The tents are not burned; the wagons are not destroyed. He is never forced to forget his people's dishes, their songs, their language, their joy. And in his dreams, his luck means that he meets you anyway, without all the loss and the chains and the lying.

In his dreams, he is able to bring you to the desert. He is able to teach you the Avgin he spoke as a child, to cook all the meals his mother used to make, to share with you their coffee and their tea. He teaches you prayers. He teaches you blessings. He tells you about Mama Fenge, about how the rain fell when he was born. He takes you to the Kakava Festival, shows you how to dance, sings to you all the Avgin songs until you're singing back. He presses his palm to yours in prayer; he kisses you in devotion, not avoidance.

Sometimes the two of you still fight, the same fights that you have in real life, but he handles them with honesty. He listens to you. He apologises to you. He tells you that he’ll change, and he means it—because this world is a kind one, and he has no need to be so cruel to you.

In this kind world, when you lay in bed with his arms tight around you, you smile at him and say, I love you, Kakavasha. You say it in Avgin—real Avgin, not the dialect born from genocide and deceit—and when he responds, there's not even a little bit of insincerity in his voice. Because Kakavasha never became Aventurine in these dreams, so he has no Interastral Standard in which he can lie to you, no silver tongue with which he can manipulate you, no commodity code that inspires his fear of being controlled by you. Kakavasha only knows Avgin, and he only has his sand, his family, his goddess, his home.

And he has you. Finally, he has you.

He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and then he tells you the truth.)

.

.

.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

You noticed this very early on: whenever he lies to you, he always switches to Interastral Standard. Probably he wouldn't be able to do it in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak, and the words he knows are all too kind. He speaks with the innocence of a child, and children cannot deceive people in the way that adults can. Children cannot perform commerce or negotiate contracts. They cannot use a silver tongue to rob people blind. They cannot save themselves from the gallows.

So Aventurine’s Avgin is defenceless. Vulnerable. So vulnerable it hurts. You are not so vulnerable in your first language because your captors spoke it on occasion, and you learned to lie in it to gain their pity. You told Aventurine that knowing it would help him understand you, but this was a deception. Aventurine’s mother tongue was a language of trust, but yours is a dialect of abuse.

The Avgin language died before Aventurine could be gutted by it; this is why it disarms him so completely. This is why he’s so indulgent and so warm when you use it with him, why he yields to all your requests. Not requests for money or gifts—you’re certain those are meaningless to him—but for affection. Let me hold you. Let me touch you. Let me kiss you. He can never say no.

This is also why he loves hearing you speak his mother tongue, you think—it makes him feel at home, it makes him feel safe. Maybe it even makes him feel loved. He never seems so at peace speaking any other language, so you try to use Avgin as much as possible. You like seeing him happy. You like it even if it means you need to teach him your own native language in exchange, even when it means you need to hear him say all the things your captors used to say. You don't mind it if it's him. You never mind the harm he inflicts on you, especially not when it brings you closer to him.

It is convenient that he cannot lie in Avgin. You only wanted to learn it in the first place because he talks in his sleep—mostly in Standard, but sometimes in his native tongue. And now that you know he cannot lie in Avgin, you also know he's always being honest in his dreams. Honest when he throws his arms around you in his sleep. Honest when he grabs you so tightly that you bruise. Honest when he buries his face into your neck and whispers prayers into your skin.

Most of the words he says are common ones, the earliest vocabulary that he taught you. But there are some things he's withheld from you—and to learn those things, you had to track down linguists from the Intelligentsia Guild, bribe them with your dirty money, have them give you all their deprecated, extinct data. It felt two-faced, and it was violating, but it was the only way. You already know that Aventurine would rather die than translate his feelings for you, would never want this part of himself understood.

I'm sorry for always leaving you.

I'm sorry for making you cry.

I can't bear the thought of losing you.

Freedom would be too lonely without you.

I don't want to hurt you anymore.

I don't want to lie to you anymore.

I missed you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love you.

end

afterword

[theresattrpgforthat]

I'd be interested in any dieselpunk or clockpunk recommendations you have, particularly if you play as some sort of inventor.

Theme: Clockpunk & Dieselpunk

Hello friend, I’ve got a decent number of Clockpunk or Dieselpunk settings, and while I think there might be be individual character options that allow you to play something of an inventor, I don’t think there’s anything in which you solely play as inventors. Perhaps some of my followers know of some though!

Tomorrow City, by Osprey Publishing.

Tomorrow City was one of the cities of the future, built to usher in a new age of prosperity, seizing upon scientific achievements at the dawn of the twentieth century. Then came the War. Radium-powered soldiers assembled, diesel-fuelled nightmares rolled off production lines, city fought city, and the world burned in atomic fire.

Tomorrow City still stands, an oil-stained beacon of hope, part-refuge, part-asylum. Beset by dangers from both within and without, a secret war now rages on its streets. Diesel-born monstrosities stalk the alleyways, air pirates strike from the wastelands, mad scientists continue their dark work, occultists manipulate the city’s strange geometry, and secret societies plot in the shadows.

Tomorrow City is a roleplaying game of dark science and dieselpunk action. Swift and simple character creation and an easy-to-learn dice pool system places the emphasis on unique personalities and the momentum of the plot. Join the Underground and fight the crime and corruption at the heart of the city. Sell your dieselpunk tech, occult knowledge, and sheer grit as troubleshooters for mysterious paymasters. Hunt down spies, saboteurs, and science-run-amok. As weary sky rangers, fringe scientists, and radium-powered veterans, you might be all that stands between a better tomorrow and no tomorrow at all.

This is a game that pools together your positive and negative character tags, has you roll for both and aim to come out on top. Gear is very important here, and acts as a great vehicle for communicating the kind of world that you’re living in. I don’t own this game so I can’t speak to much more than that, but if there is a big focus on gear, I’d assume that having a character that can create that gear or make it better would be fairly easy to make in this game.

Age of Steel, by Isolation Games.

Age of Steel is a dieselpunk roleplaying game set in the world of Neres; a world not unlike our own in the first few decades of the 20th century. Neres has just emerged from its first global conflict; the ‘Great War’ in which hundreds of thousands of men and women died in the mud and horror of the trenches.

Technology in Neres has taken a slightly different route to our own world; personal mecha powered by diesel engines are used for numerous applications from war to common labour; huge airships ply the airways; bipedal automata act as servants for the rich and gadgeteer inventors construct homemade ray-guns in their basement laboratories.

In the wake of the Great War, Neres is a hotbed of political scheming and economic growth. Industry and commerce have come to rule the world which, thanks to the airship, aeroplane and radio is rapidly becoming smaller. Little do the majority of people know but an ancient evil is at the heart of the conflict in their world. Eldritch monstrosities from before the dawn of time seek to unmake reality, aided by cults of insane worshippers. Into this world come the heroes -the players- who are the only thing standing between the cosmic evil and all that they hold dear.

Age of Steel uses d6s as the base for their rules, and characters are built using a point-buy system, meaning that instead of character classes, you can custom-design your character as you see fit. I think that since everything about your character is customizable, there may be some options that would help you construct an inventor-like character.

One piece of your character is your backgrounds - that is, what assets your character has to pull from as they play. Some of these assets include Cash, a Job, a Reputation, and a Personal Vehicle. Since the release of the base game, the designer has also added a free supplement called Better Backgorunds, which also includes some more character options when it comes to assets.

Steel Horizons, by Wandering Pilgrim Games.

Steel Horizons is a Dieselpunk TTRPG set on the continent of Algara. It has been 43 years since the discovery of the powerful mineral, Pyricium, which jumpstarted technology ahead decades and began the 3rd Age.

In this new world, the nations of Algara have barely survived the Great War, fought over the precious Pyricium deposits, and now seek to rebuild themselves even greater than before with the might of their technologies and cultural advancements. Using the combined power of diesel fuel, pyric energy, and the brute strength of man, the world presses ever forward.

You play as a Wanderer, a traveller making their way across the land in search of their own legacy. By choosing your own Archetype and customizable Background, you can create the Wanderer you want to tell the best story!

This is a custom system that uses d12’s for all of your rolls. While Steel Horizons is meant to be a complete setting, the creator’s overarching goal appears to be a core set of rules that can be used in a number of different settings. Currently there’s the Quickstart Guide (linked in title) that is meant to bring you through character creation and gives you some example encounters, but you can also get the Lore Keeper Codex for the Hydra System, which is the base rules without setting details, as well as the Player’s Guide, which introduces new character options for you to play with.

Clocks and Punks, by Ikari.

You are misfits in the mega city Meccavena, dwelling in your precious hideout, the Sanctuary, looking for your next gig. Your gang leader, Archelle, has dosed into an endless sleep after she stole the Anomaly Device from the Clockmaker's tower. Now, it's your job to regroup and explore that crazy, conspiracy-infused, clockwork powered city, and maybe find a way to wake Archelle up!

Clocks and Punks is a rules-light, clockpunk inspired hack on the Lasers and Feelings RPG by John Harper. As is the standard for games of this type, your characters will enter play with a goal already in mind, but how they decide to go about achieving that goal is up to them.

If you want to create an inventor character you certainly can - there are Artificer and Alchemist roles that might fit that niche, and you can create a character goal that encourages you to create or invent. You can also make your character better at CLOCK tasks, giving them an advantage when performing tasks that require precision or technical aptitude.

This game is best for a group that wants a short session, or minimal bookkeeping. It’s probably also easier to run if you have experience playing ttrpgs before, just because there’s not a lot of room for GM guidance on a single page,

Flying Fortress, by Planet Gnome.

Flying Fortress is a trifold pamphlet RPG about pulp adventure, diesel punks, and airship pirates.

This is a hack of Into the Odd and Electric Bastionland by Chris McDowall, and should be compatible with any other Mark of the Odd games.

What I really enjoy about pamphlet games is that they provide a lot of neatly organized information that is easy to navigate. This game has your character sheet on one tab, rules on another, gear on another, and then information on the back for the person running the game - things like potential enemies, factions, and roll tables. There’s no particular inventor role per se, but there are Aristocrat and Mechanic options that I think you could tailor to be more about invention if you wish.

The biggest downside to this game is that it dedicates all of its space to game info, and leaves no room for world-building, so the setting you place yourself in is going to have to be crafted whole-cloth by the play group. Then again, if your GM is a natural world-builder, maybe that’s an asset rather than a downside!

Goblins in Shadow, by Color Spray Games.

GOBLINS IN SHADOW is a roleplaying game about goblin resistance and revolution in an age of elven oppression. It’s a world of clockwork and magic, of smoke and shadow.

Players will take on the roles of a cell of goblin revolutionaries, working to undermine the elves and humans who have conquered their homeland and built an empire on its corpse. They’ll advance their goals by taking on scores, missions that gather sympathy for their cause or take direct action against their oppressors, ending in a final attempt to assassinate one of the elven ministers ruling the city. To do that, they’ll need to avoid being caught by the Watch or the Hounds, the elite special police of the city; they’ll also need to balance their obligations to the various factions of the city, as well as their own personal obligations.

The rule of elves will be broken by goblins in shadow.

As a Forged in the Dark game, this will likely be familiar to anyone who has played Blades or similar games. The core of this game is about combat, and the setting around it is clockwork. If you want to play an inventor type character, there looks to be a playbook called The Hand, equipped for sabotage and front-lines engineering. Just through skimming the playbooks I feel like a lot of pieces of the world around you are baked into your playbooks - for example, the Hand might have been branded by an entropic form of goblin magic that allows you to invoke rapid decay or drain life. Now that’s evocative!

[howi99]

Pet au.

Weiss going there is a horrible idea. Its straight up suicide. Beacon is better for many reasons the faubus will at the school will not be happy.

Wait would they even accept weiss? I feel like plenty of students and teachers would have lots of shit to say that they dont want a scheme in there school.

Kali: *on her scroll* ARE YOU INSANE!?

Jacques: My, how rude. I thought your school accepted everyone from any background as long as they weren't criminal. My daughter didn't commit any crime.

Kali: *pissed off* If you wanted to kill your daughter, you could have just sent her to the military.

Jacques: *surprised* I don't want to kill my daughter! I'm trying to appease the relation between my company and faunuskind. *Sigh* Vacuo and Vale are pressuring us to make changes to our policies. Even though we don't use slave-

Kali: *roll her eyes*

Jacques: -we did treat our employees unfairly. This is why i want to send my daughter, the future head of the schnee company, to your school. As a token of faith that we might bury the hatchet.

Kali: *uncertain* The white fang might be banned from our school, but i know some of our students are sympathizers... *Thinking* we could make some arrangements. Would it be fine if she hid her identity for the first year? She could familiarise with the other students without having the baggage that comes with your name. No offense.

Jacques : None taken. And i wouldn't mind. As long as eventually she is acknowledged as Weiss schnee, i don't care when, i just care how. And preferably in a good light. If that can sweeten the deal, we are open to reopening commerce with Menagerie.

Kali: ... I need to speak with my husband.

Jacques: Of course, i'll give you a week.

[kookie-doughs]

Evermore

Dracule Mihawk X Reader

-Your evermore with Mihawk is a story to be told

Chapter 1: I Was The One Who Had It All, I Was The Master Of My Fate

The island was bathed in the soft hues of sunset, a tranquil paradise now stained by the recent clash of pirates. The aftermath of the Red-Haired Pirates' intervention painted a scene of contrasting emotions on the once troubled island. The air carried a sense of relief, mingling with the residual tension that still lingered like a fading echo.

Strewn across the sandy shores were remnants of the tumultuous battle—broken weapons, discarded pirate flags, and the occasional charred mark on the earth—all testaments to the chaos that had been averted. The island's residents moved with a renewed purpose, repairing the damage inflicted upon their homes while grateful smiles and whispers of gratitude flitted through the air like a shared secret.

The village, once shrouded in the shadows of despair, now basked in the soft radiance of newfound hope. The wooden structures, adorned with vibrant tapestries and flowers, stood as beacons of resilience against the adversity that had threatened to consume them. Laughter, hesitant at first, began to resonate from the now-reopened market stalls as merchants and buyers alike engaged in the timeless dance of commerce.

Citizens bustled about, picking up the pieces of their shattered lives. Among them, you moved like a ghost, haunted by memories of the invaders who had ravaged your home. Sold into slavery, you were a mere shadow of your former self, shrouded in trauma.

Amidst the chaos, a solitary figure stood out. Dracule Mihawk, the enigmatic Warlord of the Sea, had graced this island with his presence. Red-Haired Shanks and his crew welcomed him warmly, celebrating their recent victory. As the festivities ensued, Mihawk's keen gaze fell upon you, a lone figure on the fringes of the crowd. Your eyes met his, and a shiver ran down your spine.

Shanks, ever perceptive, noticed Mihawk's interest and nudged him playfully. "Seems like someone's caught your eye, Hawk-Eye."

You tensed, ready to flee, but before you could act, Mihawk stepped between you and Shanks. "Akagami, stop frightening her."

Mihawk's words held a strange comfort, and you hesitated, your eyes darting between the two formidable figures. Shanks smiled kindly at you, but his presence still felt overwhelming. As you turned to leave, Shanks made a move to reach out, but Mihawk's hand halted him with a gentle but firm touch.

"Akagami, give her time. Leave her alone."

The night settled over the island, and the festivities dwindled. Mihawk, shrouded in his dark aura, left the crowd and followed the path you had taken. Through winding alleys and dimly lit corners, he found you huddled in the darkest and most secluded part of the village. Mihawk's presence was unsettling, but your fear had been replaced by curiosity.

He approached silently, his boots making no sound against the worn cobblestone. You looked up at him, your eyes wide with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. Mihawk said nothing, respecting the silence that enveloped you. Just as he was about to leave, you summoned the courage to grab the edge of his coat, your fingers trembling.

His gaze met yours, and you pointed to the sword strapped to his back The legendary blade, Yoru, gleamed faintly in the moonlight. With practiced ease, Mihawk drew the sword and placed it before you. Your heart raced as you hesitantly reached out, your fingertips grazing the blade's surface. A mixture of awe and fear filled your eyes as you studied the intricate craftsmanship.

Seeing your desire to touch the sword, Mihawk's lips curved into a rare smile. "You may touch it."

Hesitantly, you extended a trembling finger and brushed it against the blade's edge. A rush of emotions surged through you, and a genuine smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Mihawk's own smile deepened, as a silent connection formed between you and the sword.

Just as the moment seemed to linger, Shanks appeared, his jovial laughter cutting through the silence. Your guard snapped back into place, and you retreated, your heart pounding. Mihawk swiftly moved between you and Shanks, his grip on Yoru tightening subtly.

Shanks laughed heartily. "Hawk-Eye, I didn't expect to find you here."

Mihawk's gaze remained fixed on you, and he simply nodded in response. With a playful wink at you, Shanks allowed himself to be dragged back to the crowd by Mihawk, their shadows fading into the night.

The following day, as the sun began to rise, Mihawk returned to the secluded area he had found you. There you were, sitting, your gaze fixed on the sword that had captured your heart. A silent understanding passed between you and Mihawk as he picked up the sword, the weight of its history evident in his grasp.

You looked up at him, your eyes bright with anticipation and curiosity. He extended Yoru toward you, a silent invitation. The sword practically hummed with energy, and you couldn't resist. With a hesitant smile, you reached out and took hold of the hilt, the cool metal sending a thrill through your fingertips.

Mihawk settled onto the ground beside you, his presence both comforting and enigmatic. As you inspected the blade, your excitement spilled over into a monologue about its history, its legends, and its unparalleled craftsmanship. Mihawk listened intently, his usual stoicism softened by genuine interest.

As your words flowed, Mihawk's curiosity grew. "You seem quite knowledgeable about swords."

You looked up at him, a mixture of emotions in your eyes. "I was swordswoman."

Mihawk's eyebrows lifted slightly, surprised by your admission. "And do you possess a blade of your own?"

A wistful smile tugged at your lips. "I did, once. A legendary sword, passed down through generations. But it was taken from me."

Mihawk's gaze turned contemplative, as if he were piecing together the puzzle of your past. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his tone measured. "Would you like to come with me?"

Without hesitation, you nodded, a spark of excitement igniting within you. "Yes."

Mihawk's lips quirked into a faint smile. "May I ask why? Why would you agree without hesitation?"

You met his gaze, your eyes holding a mixture of gratitude and determination. "Because your sword is the only thing that can bring me back to who I was before... before everything happened."

Mihawk nodded, his gaze softening. He shared stories of his own home, his castle perched atop a desolate cliff, where the sound of crashing waves was a constant companion. Your heart raced at the thought, and the idea of a new beginning filled you with hope.

~

Mihawk's boat glided smoothly into the calm waters surrounding his remote island sanctuary. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the tranquil scene. As the anchor found purchase and the gangway was lowered, Dracule Mihawk stepped ashore with his characteristic grace.

His arrival, however, was met with a sight that drew a rare quirk of his eyebrow. There, standing near the shore with her arms folded and a pout on her lips, was the ever-quirky Perona. Her vibrant pink hair stood out against the backdrop of the island's lush greenery, a vivid contrast to her annoyed expression.

"Finally! You took forever to come back, you know," Perona huffed, her tone a blend of frustration and relief.

Mihawk turns regarded the brash yet endearing ghost princess. "I apologize for any inconvenience, Perona."

Perona's annoyance seemed to dissipate as she caught sight of the turning away. "Hmph. Well, it's about time. Leaving me here with that marimo was a nightmare."

Mihawk arched an eyebrow. "Marimo?"

Perona rolled her eyes, her exasperation evident. "Yes, that swordsman you're so fond of, that green-haired, three-sword-wielding Roronoa Zoro. He's insufferable, you know. All he does is train, act all serious, and get into fights. And the way he talks back to me! I can't take it!"

Mihawk's stoic façade held firm. "Ah, I see. Zoro has a knack for invoking strong reactions."

Perona's arms crossed once more as she launched into a full-blown tirade. "Strong reactions? That's an understatement! He doesn't appreciate my powers, always giving me that scowl. And he's utterly dense when it comes to my Negative Hollows. I tried to have a conversation, you know, something civilized, and all he wanted to do was spar!"

"It appears you had quite the eventful time."

Perona huffed, her annoyance still palpable. "Eventful? More like excruciating! I'm just glad you're back so I can have some semblance of sanity."

"I am tired, may I retire back home? You can regale me with your adventures in dealing with our dear marimo whilst we walk."

Perona's scowl softened into a begrudging grin, and she floated closer to him. "Fine. But you owe me. Big time."

Masterlist | Next

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @nykie-love-anime @khaleesihavilliard

[raakdos-battlemap]

Kamigawa: Neon Dynasty #004 Towashi

Towashi is the main city of modern day Kamigawa. It was built in a cleared-out part of the Jukai Forest. Now, kami and humans alike live among its towering skyscrapers. The streets are always packed, no matter the time of day. Its prime location along the coast makes it a hub for commerce, and its proximity to the forest provides shelter from the elements. Hovering lanterns and neon lights brighten a lower city that would otherwise be drowned in shadows throughout the day, and those same lights transform the city at night into a beacon of dazzling colors.

More variations of this map:

[mayamidnightmelody]

Grishaverse 🌌✨

The Grishaverse, created by the brilliant mind of Leigh Bardugo, is a captivating literary universe that enchants readers with its intricate blend of magic, adventure, and diverse characters. Spanning multiple novels, short stories, and now even a television adaptation, the Grishaverse has become a beloved realm for fantasy enthusiasts worldwide. Let's embark on a journey through this wondrous realm and unravel its many wonders. 📖

At the heart of the Grishaverse lies the Ravkan Empire, a land divided by social hierarchy and political intrigue. Here, Grisha, individuals with the ability to manipulate elements through Small Science, hold both power and fear. From summoning fire to controlling the winds, Grisha possess extraordinary abilities that shape the fate of nations. Among them, the protagonist Alina Starkov rises from obscurity to become a beacon of hope in the face of darkness, as depicted in the "Shadow and Bone" trilogy. 🏰🔥

But the Grishaverse extends far beyond the borders of Ravka. In the Six of Crows duology, Bardugo expands her universe to the bustling city of Ketterdam, a hub of crime and commerce. Here, a diverse cast of characters, including the cunning Kaz Brekker, the mysterious Nina Zenik, and the sharp-witted Jesper Fahey, navigate a world of heists, betrayals, and unexpected alliances. Through their eyes, readers explore themes of friendship, redemption, and the complexities of human nature. 🏙️💰

One of the most compelling aspects of the Grishaverse is its rich tapestry of cultures and identities. From the vibrant Suli nomads to the enigmatic Fjerdans, Bardugo populates her world with a diverse array of peoples, each with their own customs, languages, and beliefs. This commitment to representation not only adds depth to the narrative but also resonates with readers from all walks of life. 🌍👥

Moreover, the Grishaverse serves as a platform for exploring complex themes such as power, privilege, and prejudice. Through the struggles of characters like Alina and Nikolai Lantsov, Bardugo examines the corrupting influence of power and the sacrifices required to wield it responsibly. Meanwhile, the discrimination faced by Grisha in Ravka mirrors real-world issues of marginalization and oppression, inviting readers to reflect on their own societies. 💪🏽🤝

In addition to its thought-provoking themes, the Grishaverse captivates audiences with its lush imagery and evocative prose. Bardugo's vivid descriptions transport readers to snow-capped mountains, bustling markets, and shadowy alleyways, immersing them in a world brimming with magic and wonder. Whether it's the grandeur of the Little Palace or the grittiness of the Barrel, every corner of the Grishaverse is teeming with life and possibility. 🏞️✨

As the Grishaverse continues to expand with new novels, spin-offs, and adaptations, its allure shows no signs of waning. With each new installment, Bardugo invites readers to delve deeper into this fantastical realm, uncovering its secrets and unraveling its mysteries. Whether you're a fan of epic quests, intricate plots, or diverse representation, there's something for everyone in the enchanting world of the Grishaverse. 🌟📚

In conclusion, the Grishaverse stands as a shining example of the power of storytelling to transport, inspire, and unite readers around the world. With its compelling characters, richly imagined world, and thought-provoking themes, it continues to capture the hearts and imaginations of audiences everywhere. So, grab your kefta and your crow's cloak, and join us on an unforgettable journey through the enchanting realms of the Grishaverse! 🚪🔮

[itsfarrah]

|CHAPTER 1|

"Remember, my dear Farrah," my father whispered, his voice weakened by illness but still filled with conviction, "in every storm, remember the lessons of our love. Let it be your compass, guiding you through the darkest nights and the roughest seas."

Those were his last words to me, uttered with a tenderness that would forever echo in my heart. The memory of that moment, of his steady gaze and the warmth of his touch, would be etched into my soul for eternity.

My father, a man of towering intellect and gentle spirit, had been my guiding light throughout my childhood. His own upbringing had been marked by hardship and estrangement, as his own father, a stern and unforgiving man, had sent him away to boarding school in an attempt to "make a man out of him." Yet, my father emerged from those formative years with grace and resilience, his spirit unbroken by the cruelty of his father.

It was at Oxford University, where my father had been sent to study against his will, that he found solace and friendship in the form of Edward Dashwood. United by their shared experiences and a mutual love for knowledge, they became lifelong friends, their bond forged in the fires of adversity.

But it was in America that my father's star truly rose. With a keen eye for opportunity and a sharp mind for business, he had built and owned railroads that crisscrossed the nation, connecting cities and communities in ways never thought possible. His ventures had made him a titan of industry, a man of immense wealth and influence both in America and abroad.

Through his astute trading with England, he had further solidified his fortune, leveraging his connections and expertise to navigate the complex world of international commerce. His dealings had brought prosperity to our family, allowing us to live a life of luxury and privilege that few could ever dream of.

My mother, a woman of quiet strength and unwavering love, had been the heart of our home. Her gentle demeanor belied a fierce determination and a fierce love for her family. She had nurtured me with tenderness and care, her presence a source of comfort and solace in even the darkest of times.

As an only child, I was the apple of my parents' eye, and they spared no expense in my education and upbringing. Our home was a sanctuary of knowledge and curiosity, with shelves overflowing with books from every corner of the globe.

Together, they had created a home filled with warmth and laughter, where love was the guiding force that bound us together.Though their time with me had been cut tragically short, their love would live on in me, a beacon of hope to light my way through the storms that lay ahead.

As I wandered through the now desolate corridors, once vibrant with the echoes of love and laughter, I couldn't help but long for the warmth that once permeated every corner of our grand abode. Standing at the threshold of my new life in England, with the Dashwoods as the only family I had left, I felt a mix of fear and optimism coursing through my veins. The journey ahead was uncertain, but I knew that with their love and support, I would find the strength to embrace the challenges and forge a new path forward. And so, with a heavy heart and a hopeful spirit, I stepped forward into the unknown, ready to begin anew.

[beaconcommerce]

7 reasons to register your trademark on Amazon

In the ever-evolving landscape of e-commerce, establishing a strong brand presence is more crucial than ever. For businesses using Amazon as a key sales platform in 2024, registering your trademark with Amazon is not just beneficial — it’s essential. Registering your trademark with Amazon grants access to Amazon Brand Registry, a powerful tool designed to protect your brand and intellectual property. In an environment rife with counterfeit products and unauthorized resellers, Brand Registry provides important safeguards.

[anupreetkaurr]

📍Connaught Place, Delhi

“In the heart of Delhi, Connaught Place glows with a vibrant energy, beckoning wanderers to explore its nocturnal charm.”

As night falls over Connaught Place, the iconic buildings of Delhi’s bustling commercial center are illuminated by a symphony of lights, casting a mesmerizing glow that reflects off their architectural splendor. Each facade tells a story of the city’s rich history and modern vitality, standing tall as beacons of commerce and culture amidst the bustling streets below. The hustle and bustle of the day give way to a more subdued energy, as the night air hums with the sounds of laughter and conversation drifting from the vibrant cafes and shops that line the streets.

[acceptccnow]

CBD Merchant Accounts Essentials: Secure and Efficient Processing

Article by Jonathan Bomser | CEO | Accept-Credit-Cards-Now.com

In the ever-evolving realm of e-commerce, payment processing stands as a cornerstone, a pivotal factor dictating the success of businesses in an increasingly digital marketplace. Especially for high-risk industries like CBD and credit repair, secure and efficient payment processing becomes not just essential but a strategic imperative. In this article, we'll delve deep into the essentials of CBD merchant accounts, shedding light on the significance of secure and efficient processing, empowering businesses to thrive even within high-risk niches.

DOWNLOAD THE CBD MERCHANT ACCOUNTS INFOGRAPHIC HERE

Understanding the Significance of Secure Payment Processing In today's interconnected landscape, where cyber threats loom large, safeguarding sensitive payment information is paramount. CBD businesses, often categorized as high-risk, are particularly susceptible to fraudulent activities. This makes secure payment processing the bedrock of their operations. High-risk payment processing solutions provide cutting-edge encryption and fraud detection mechanisms, ensuring that both businesses and customers are shielded from potential breaches.

Navigating the High-Risk Landscape with Merchant Accounts The term 'high-risk' might sound intimidating, but it doesn't have to be a roadblock. High-risk merchant accounts are specialized financial instruments that empower CBD and credit repair businesses to accept credit card payments with confidence. These accounts come with tailored features that suit the unique needs of high-risk industries, offering stability and reliability that traditional accounts often fail to provide.

The Dynamics of High-Risk Payment Gateways A seamless transaction experience lies at the heart of customer trust and satisfaction. High-risk payment gateways are designed with precisely this objective. By enabling swift, secure, and user-friendly transactions, these gateways eliminate friction from the purchase process. This is crucial for CBD businesses aiming to establish credibility and nurture customer loyalty in an industry that is gradually gaining mainstream recognition.

CBD and Credit Repair: High-Risk Endeavors CBD and credit repair, although distinct, share the tag of high-risk ventures. This label stems from factors such as regulatory uncertainties and a historical stigma attached to these industries. While it might be challenging to find traditional financial partners willing to support these businesses, high-risk merchant processing steps in as a beacon of hope. It not only provides access to financial tools but also enhances the reputation of these industries by facilitating transparent and secure transactions.

E-Commerce Integration and Payment Processing In an era where digital storefronts are the norm, e-commerce payment processing takes center stage. For CBD and credit repair businesses venturing into the online realm, the ability to accept credit cards for e-commerce becomes a game-changer. High-risk e-commerce merchant accounts offer seamless integration of payment processing systems, making it convenient for customers to complete transactions and for businesses to manage their finances effectively.

Pioneering the Way Forward with CBD Merchant Accounts Amid evolving regulations and shifting perceptions, CBD businesses are finding their footing. To do so effectively, they need a financial partner that understands their unique challenges and opportunities. High-risk CBD merchant accounts offer precisely that. By facilitating the acceptance of credit cards for CBD businesses, these accounts provide the legitimacy that CBD businesses need while ensuring smooth and secure payment processing.

Empowering Growth in High-Risk Sectors In the ever-expanding realm of e-commerce, the potential for growth is immense, even within high-risk sectors like CBD and credit repair. Secure and efficient payment processing, driven by high-risk merchant accounts and payment gateways, is the linchpin that unlocks this potential. By seamlessly integrating credit card processing and enabling transparent transactions, businesses in these niches can not only survive but thrive.

In a landscape where e-commerce reigns supreme, businesses must equip themselves with the tools necessary to navigate the complexities of payment processing. High-risk industries like CBD and credit repair face unique challenges that require tailored solutions. Through high-risk merchant accounts and specialized payment gateways, these challenges can be transformed into opportunities, allowing businesses to establish trust, ensure security, and drive growth.

[accountsend]

Lead Generation for E-commerce: Tactics to Drive Online Sales

Article by Jonathan Bomser | CEO | AccountSend.com

In today's dynamic digital landscape, the world of e-commerce is thriving like never before, offering businesses unparalleled opportunities to connect with a global audience. However, within this digital marketplace, the pursuit of increased online sales comes with its unique set of challenges. This is where the strategic art of lead generation steps in. In this article, we're about to embark on an enlightening journey through seven innovative tactics that promise to optimize your lead generation strategies and drive a remarkable surge in your online sales, setting the stage for business growth and expansion.

Download the infographic here!

Optimize Your Website for Conversions: Imagine your website as a virtual storefront, a welcoming entry point for potential customers into your digital universe. Ensuring that this first interaction is seamless and impactful is a crucial foundation for success. The concept of website optimization goes beyond aesthetics, diving deep into the realm of user experience. It's about strategically integrating compelling calls-to-action (CTAs), facilitating smooth checkout processes, and ensuring that your website is responsive and accessible across mobile devices. Each of these elements collaborates to create an environment that not only engages visitors but also fuels B2B lead generation, ultimately leading to increased conversions.

Implement SEO Best Practices: Navigating the vast expanse of the digital landscape requires a strategic compass. Search engine optimization (SEO) is that compass, guiding your brand towards higher visibility and discoverability. By refining your website and content to align with search engine algorithms, you pave a path for potential customers to easily find you. This journey involves meticulous keyword research, the cultivation of authoritative backlinks, and the crafting of top-notch content. Together, these elements elevate your brand's presence in search engine rankings, positioning you as an authority in your niche and drawing organic traffic to your virtual doorstep.

Harness the Power of Content Marketing: In a world driven by information and engagement, content marketing emerges as a beacon of connection. This dynamic strategy involves creating and disseminating valuable, relevant content that resonates with your target audience. From thought-provoking blog posts and visually captivating infographics to immersive videos and educational webinars, content marketing weaves a narrative that not only builds brand credibility but also educates potential leads. By serving as a bridge between information and conversion, content marketing shapes a customer journey that is both meaningful and impactful.

Leverage Social Media Advertising: In the realm of social media, where connections are forged and conversations thrive, lies an untapped reservoir of advertising potential. Platforms such as Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn offer a treasure trove of advertising options equipped with advanced targeting capabilities. These tools empower you to direct your messages towards potential customers based on their behaviors, preferences, and demographics. This laser-focused approach brings your brand to the forefront of your audience's attention, fostering recognition, trust, and ultimately, sales conversions.

Engage in Email Marketing: Amidst the whirlwind of digital advancements, email marketing remains a steadfast pillar in the lead generation landscape. It's the art of personalized communication, where each email serves as a conduit for tailored promotions, informative content, and the nurturing of leads. Cultivating a robust email list lays the foundation for strategic email campaigns, where the crafting of compelling content fosters a direct and intimate relationship between your brand and potential customers. This relationship, in turn, fuels conversions and drives your e-commerce success.

Partner with Influencers: The power of influence is a force to be reckoned with in the digital era. By collaborating with influencers who hold sway over your target audience, you unlock an avenue of amplified visibility and credibility. These influencers, with their engaged online following, introduce your brand to a wider audience, fostering trust and recognition. The partnership forms a symbiotic relationship, driving both your brand's growth and the influencer's engagement, a testament to the transformative potential of influencer marketing in e-commerce.

Use Retargeting Campaigns: In the intricate dance of e-commerce, not every lead converts immediately. This is where retargeting campaigns step in, reminding potential customers of their engagement with your brand. These campaigns strategically place ads on social media platforms or deliver timely email reminders, gently nurturing warm leads and guiding them towards conversion. By maintaining a consistent presence in their digital landscape, you increase the chances of converting engaged leads into loyal customers.

In summation, the realm of e-commerce lead generation is a symphony of strategies. From website optimization to content marketing, social media finesse, influencer collaboration, and the art of retargeting, each tactic plays a distinct role in enhancing lead generation, elevating conversion rates, and propelling your online sales to unprecedented heights. As you embark on this dynamic journey, remember that success lies in not just embracing these strategies but also in adapting them to the evolving e-commerce trends and the unique pulse of your business. Your commitment to continuous refinement and innovation will undoubtedly chart a course towards sustained e-commerce triumph.

[myhauntedsalem]

The Gray Cat Ghost at Fairport Harbor Lighthouse

Even though the Fairport Harbor Light on Lake Erie was given the nickname “The light that shone for 100 years”, it actually doesn’t live up to its name. The current lighthouse didn’t earn the nickname alone. Its predecessor, which was built in the same site, shone for the first 46 years. What makes this lighthouse one of the most haunted places in America is its paranormal claims about a gray cat.

The original lighthouse was built in 1825. When the population of the town reached 300, the Painesville Telegraph issued a notice asking for lighthouse bids. Collector of Customs, A. Walworth, signed the proposal. Unfortunately, he didn’t leave the detail-planning to the potential builder. He specified the height of the deck, depth of the foundation, number of windows, materials to be used, etc. in his proposal.

Builders Hiram Wood and Jonathon Goldsmith received a contract to the lighthouse and keeper’s dwelling for $2900. Everything went smoothly with the construction at first, until it was realized that there was a mis-communication concerning the cellar. The construction of the cellar wasn’t included in the builders’ plans. It wasn’t until after the construction of the lighthouse that an upset Walworth contracted Goldsmith and Wood to complete the cellar for additional money. In 1841, Goldsmith applied for the keeper’s job for the lighthouse he had helped build but someone else received the job.

Fairport Harbor Light on Lake Erie wasn’t just used as a hub of commerce, it was also the final stop for the Underground Railroad. The lighthouse acted as a beacon of freedom to slaves. The town, along with the captains and seamen who sailed there, was completely anti-slavery. The ships in the area would help transport escaped slaves to Canada. Many of them were kept hidden in the lighthouse itself until a ship was available.

The original lighthouse began to wear and tear just a few years after its construction. After a decade, the foundation had settled to the point where it needed a replacement. Within 30 years, wire hoops encircled the lighthouse to keep it from falling over.

In March 1869, Congress finally approved a proposal to replace the original tower and keeper’s dwelling. The new project cost an estimated $30,000. Not wanting to make the same mistakes of their predecessors, the new builders contracted engineers to help them. They scouted the area to find the best foundation point.

In 1871, the new Berea sandstone tower and brick keeper’s dwelling were finally complete. Minor improvements have been made over the decades. The harbor itself grew considerably as new piers and a foghorn were installed.

The original lighthouse was set to be destroyed but the citizens of the community protested due to its historical value. After WW II, it was turned into a museum. Now, visitors can walk through the very same corridors as the runaway slaves more than 150 years ago.

The most interesting paranormal claim coming from the lighthouse doesn’t involve the underground railroad or even humans for that matter. The most talked about ghost around the lighthouse is the gray ghost cat. The story of the cat starts around 1877. Captain Joseph Babcock was the Head Keeper of the lighthouse in 1871. He and his wife Mary had two children, Hattie and Robbie.

Unfortunately Robbie died at the age of 5 of diphtheria. Mary became depressed and was eventually bedridden. To help comfort her and keep her company, the Captain gave her cats. After Mary’s death all the cats disappeared over time except this one gray cat.

In 1989 the curator of the now lighthouse museum first reported seeing an apparition of a cat playing in the kitchen and also felt it jump on the bed. Visitors soon started to report small puffs of gray smoke and the sightings have continued ever since.

In 2001 the lighthouse got a new air conditioning system. While crawling in the basement, workers came across the mummified remains of a gray cat. This gray ghost cat, who’s remains are on display inside the museum, makes Fairport Harbor Lighthouse one of the most haunted places in America.

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

4. "He smells good. Why on earth does he smell so good?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "He *smells* good..." The lieutenant squints his eyes, trying to hold back laughter.

"That's weird, right?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "He smells good and that's weird."

"..."

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - He's barely holding it together. It's all he can do to keep from bursting out in laughter.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Come on, detective. Let's go -- we've got a potential witness to interview -- his 'Sunday friend', remember?" He nods at the apartment door before you.

Our Thought Cabinet is full. I'm electing to replace Rigorous Self-Critique, since I realized that it only heals you when you fail a red check, and that doesn't happen often enough to be worth keeping.

"Governmental issues take me all over Revachol, as you can see."

A quarterly business magazine.

"If *stabilité* is ensured, progress will naturally follow.

An old photo of the same apartment, dated year '01.

Expensive men's perfume lingers in the air.

"*Transparence* has always been our highest priority."

Buckets of paint on a layer of old newspapers.

An exquisite canopy bed made of metal.

Dishes soaked up in a pot.

"I don't z'ink conclusions should be rushed at z'is point."

An empty ashtray.

Flyers for underground parties.

Dates for open lectures at a local university.

SAMARAN CONICAL HAT

+1 Logic: Super logical for a cop to wear this -1 Suggestion: Insensitive bachelor party vibes

This tawny cone-shaped hat looks like a beacon of Samaran wisdom, its straws sticking up like antennas. Thank god you can't really see people's reactions when they see you strolling around in this incredibly insensitive headpiece.

Statswise, this isn't better or worse than the Auditor glasses.

PARTY DRAGON'S SILK ROBE

+1 Drama: Become the dragon +1 Electrochemistry: Become an addict... in a strange bathing robe

This sleazy-silky bathing robe in vibrant blues features a roaring dragon on its front, ready to take off into the night. A red belt has been provided for fastening. It's culturally insensitive, but only for people who are not from Seol. The real Seolites probably don't care.

Well, that's a straight increase to our stats, so...

SUNDAY FRIEND - "You have acquired the robe." The man assesses the situation. "Keep it, officer, it looks good on you."

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] - You shouldn't be seeing him in an intimate setting. For some reason you feel this man is your... *superior*.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Trivial: Success] - Superior? But he's not in the command chain...

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - His hands are clean and well-manicured. This is a man who knows the importance of appearances.

SUNDAY FRIEND - "My name is Charles Villedrouin and I'm an official with the Coalition Government. I work for the Institute of Price Stabilité, on assignment from Sur-la-Clef."

"I heard you talking to my friend outside… Very good. Super. I am here to assist you in any way possible. Ask me about the hanging."

SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - No, first ask an innocuous personal question to get the interview off on the right foot.

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] - Yes. Make it clear you're the one setting the terms here...

(Point at the bed.) "Before we go on, I absolutely *have* to inquire about this wonderful canopy."

(Point to the silk robe.) "Before we get to that, tell me where you got this *beautiful* silk robe from?"

(Show him the Samaran hat.) "We'll get to that. Right after you tell me the story behind the black Samaran hat."

(Get down to business.) "Hello, Mr. Villedrouin. Let's get started."

SUNDAY FRIEND - "Oh, we got it from an atelier in the East Delta Commerce Centre. Personally I think it's a little culturally insensitive, but the material is great. Sadly the shop is now out of business..."

"That's really all I can tell you about it." He forms a little rooftop with his fingers. Cold air sweeps in from the balcony.

AUTHORITY - That didn't work at all.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant takes out his notebook and nods to you to proceed.

"You actually *witnessed* the lynching?"

"What's an official like you doing in Martinaise?"

"Can you tell me about your friend?"

"Thanks, I've got all I need." [Leave.]

SUNDAY FRIEND - "I'm sorry to say I did, officer." The man gives a solemn nod.

(Turn to the lieutenant.) "This is just the break we've been looking for!"

"Is it because you did it, Mr. Villedrouin?"

"Start from the beginning, if you don't mind."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Easy, detective. No need to jump to conclusions." He eyes the spectacled man near the window, who smiles and spreads his hands.

2. "Is it because you did it, Mr. Villedrouin?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "Because I *did it*?" the man scoffs.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - He's clearly not a man accustomed to being spoken to in that manner, let alone to being accused of *murder*.

"My apologies, I misspoke. I mean, what did you see?"

"Don't jerk my chain, paper-jockey. You did it, didn't you?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "Officer, it's very difficult to describe what I saw that night. It was so surreal to me, like in a play."

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - He holds out his hands and blossoms his fingers, like a drama teacher setting the scene.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant is already scribbling down notes. "What do you mean, 'like in a play'?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "It was just so strange. I could barely comprehend what was happening..."

"I was on the balcony when it happened, getting some fresh air. I remember that first they came in, carrying what looked like a body, and then I saw all the surrounding windows go dead one-by-one…"

"That's when I understood -- I should not be seeing this."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Sounds like the victim *was* unconscious. Or at least incapacitated. Interesting."

"Who were 'they'? Can you describe them?"

"How many of them were there?"

"What happened next?" (Proceed.)

SUNDAY FRIEND - "I couldn't see their faces well, and there were quite a few of them. But they were very loud and very... Martinaise..." He pauses, looking for the right wording.

"Let's just say that the labouring classes can get rather expressive with their profanities."

2. "How many of them were there?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "I couldn't tell you exactly. Less than ten. Maybe eight?"

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant sends you a sharp look at the mention of that number.

"Were any of them the Giant of Koko Nur?"

"What happened next?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "No, there were no *mythological giants*, I'm afraid. They were all *quite* human, so far as I could tell."

"What happened next?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "I went back inside."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Were you able to see anything from inside?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "Officer, the yard was pitch black. There was nothing to see. But I could still hear their voices. They were threatening to kill that poor man."

"Were they men, women?"

"What ethnicity were they?"

"What happened next?" (Proceed.)

SUNDAY FRIEND - "All men, I presume. But again, I couldn't see very clearly."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Hmmm. But we're fairly certain the lady driver was present..." The lieutenant flips through his notes.

"Are you sure at least *one* of them wasn't a woman?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "It's possible, officer, but I cannot say with certainty. It was very dark, you must remember."

2. "What ethnicity were they?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "I believe they were mostly white, though I believe I saw two Areopagites among them. And I am quite certain that one spoke with a Mesque accent."

3. "What happened next?" (Proceed.)

SUNDAY FRIEND - "Well, that's the strangest part, officer. *Nothing* happened. It was oddly quiet for a public lynching."

"What do you mean 'nothing happened'? They lynched a guy!"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "Eventually their shouts died down, and that was all. There were no gunshots, no celebratory shouts, no anything."

"Why didn't you call the RCM?"

"You're right, that does seem strange."

SUNDAY FRIEND - The man wipes his glasses. "You're right, of course. That is what one is supposed to do in such circumstances. I was simply in shock..."

"I'm afraid I don't have anything else to add."

KIM KITSURAGI - "About what time was all this happening, approximately?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "All I can say is that it was late."

"So let me get this straight. You didn't actually witness the hanging itself, did you?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "No, I didn't see the corpse until the following day."

KIM KITSURAGI - "It seems this wasn't the 'break' you were hoping for..."

"I think we have everything we need," the lieutenant says, closing his notebook. "Thank you for talking to us, Mr. Villedrouin."

SUNDAY FRIEND - "Of course, anything I can do to assist the RCM."

Task complete: Interview the Sunday friend

+10 XP

2. "What's an official like you doing in Martinaise?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "The Coalition is only looking out for *ze price stabilité*." He raises an index finger. "Inflation is a killer, like a heart disease blocking the normal circulation of the economy -- It must be controlled..."

"The economy impacts the entire *international community*, which is why it requires international oversight."

"Okay, but what are you doing *here* in this apartment?"

"So you're some kind of bureaucrat?"

"What is this *international community*?"

"What is *ze price stabilité*?"

"Enough business, let's talk about something else."

SUNDAY FRIEND - "Ah, well, I'm renovating it. It is an interesting project. The building used to be a twelve-story skyscraper before the cannons took the top four stories off. This of course happened when the Coalition forces landed here..."

He smiles. "You could say I'm undoing some of the *material* damage the international community caused when we arrived here."

2. "So you're some kind of bureaucrat?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "Yes. As I said before, I'm a commissioner from Sur-la-Clef working for the Institute of Price Stabilité." He glances at his watch. "This is one of the main projects of the Moralintern."

3. "What is this *international community*?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "La communauté internationale is what Revacholians colloquially call *the Coalition*. In other words, the nations that stopped the disaster of the Revolution."

And our employers, technically.

4. "What is *ze price stabilité*?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "It is ze most important thing."

"That doesn't tell me anything."

"Ah, that clears everything up."

SUNDAY FRIEND - "It's the central goal of any sound monetary policy. Maintaining ze price stabilité is essential to maintaining high levels of economic activity, which is essential for maintaining high levels of employment..."

"Which is essential for maintaining *ze social stabilité*…"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Basically it makes sure the price of bread doesn't change."

SUNDAY FRIEND - "*Précisément*! Too much inflation, bread becomes too expensive; too much deflation, it becomes too cheap for bakers to produce..."

"That's why the Institute of Price Stabilité works to keep inflation just below 2%..."

"Below 2% of what?"

"This is *fascinating*, but I wanted to ask you something else."

SUNDAY FRIEND - "But not *too* far below, no. Too below is also bad -- below, *but close to* 2%."

"You're not answering my questions at all."

SUNDAY FRIEND - "The Coalition believes in the importance of informing the public about the benefits of ze price stabilité. Transparency is one of our principles. Would you like an informational pamphlet?"

"No, I'm good."

"Okay, sure, give me a leaflet."

SUNDAY FRIEND - "A sound monetary policy is *essential* for addressing *uncertainty*. Stability is the *raison d'être* of the Moralintern. It's the reason why I identify as a moralist."

He pats his pockets. "But, oh! I don't have my leaflets on me today. That's too bad. You can always call our information line. Making information available is part of the Moralintern's commitment to transparency."

5. "I've heard about this Moralintern before, but I want to know more."

SUNDAY FRIEND - "It's the international organization for moralists. Hence 'Moralist International.' The Institute of Price Stability is just one of its many *mind babies* -- as is the Coalition."

(Turn to Kim.) "So when I said I was a lackey of capital, what I should have said is that I'm a Moralintern bitch?"

"Oooh…" (Turn to Kim.) "So we're actually working for the Moralintern? That doesn't seem so bad."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Doing one's job doesn't automatically make one anyone's *bitch*. Besides, there are more nefarious powers to work for than the Moralintern."

Are there?

(Turn back to Sunday Friend.) "Are you a moralist?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "But of course!"

"But why?"

"Am *I* a moralist?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "Because moralists believe in a normal, stable world governed by democratic values."

(Turn to Kim.) "Lieutenant, are *you* a moralist?"

"But what is a normal, stable world?"

"Martinaise doesn't seem very normal, or stable, to me."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Hmm, me? I... uh..."

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - You've managed to catch the lieutenant off guard, but only for a moment. He quickly recomposes himself.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I'm a lieutenant of the RCM, dedicated to maintaining law and order in Revachol."

SUNDAY FRIEND - "A very moralist answer," the man nods.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - The lieutenant is practised in the art of putting on a show for one's superiors.

"But what is a normal, stable world?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "The Occident is part of the normal world. Oranje, Sur-la-Clef..."

"Martinaise doesn't seem very normal, or stable, to me."

SUNDAY FRIEND - "Martinaise? No, Martinaise is... something else."

"What about the rest of Revachol? Is it part of the normal world?"

SUNDAY FRIEND - "Revachol is generally... difficult. It's led by an interim government, which means it hasn't yet achieved *full* democracy..."

"But they are working towards it! You're all doing very well here, relatively speaking." He gives you an approving nod.