#birt training course

[aivhub]

What are the tools used in business intelligence?

Business Intelligence (BI) tools are key to analyzing data and making data-driven decisions. Some top BI tools include:

1.Eclipse BIRT: An open-source tool for creating customizable reports and visualizations, ideal for web and enterprise applications.

2. Power BI: A Microsoft platform for analyzing data and generating interactive reports and dashboards for mid-size and enterprise customers

3. Active Intelligence Visualization (AIV): Powerful business intelligence solution with all the enterprise feature including AI capabilities, it offers Free forever plan, design for Startup, SMEs and enterprise customer.

4. Tableau: A powerful tool for turning complex data into interactive, shareable dashboards – usually for large enterprise

5. QlikView: Combines data visualization with self-service analytics for easy report creation and data exploration usually for large enterprise

These tools help organizations streamline reporting, improve decision-making, and optimize business processes.

[disorganizedkitten]

We'll Take Our World By Storm Chapter 1

Harry Potter | 2021 | 6,085 | Ao3 | Masterlist | Next

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has educated more than seventy percent of the last three centuries’ historical figures. Foster siblings Harry Potter and Fay Dunbar-Black are beginning their first year there this fall, and they have plans. They’re not the only ones, though, and it seems like all plans have one kink in common - Harry’s twin brother, Connor; known for not dying when he should’ve. [or at least, known for being caught not dying.] Connor would like to go on record saying he’d love to stay out of this too. Between suspicious teachers, learning magic, the castle trying to murder their Ravenclaws, and Harry’s biological family trying to reconnect after ten years, everyone is busy. At least one thing hasn’t changed: the Wizarding World won’t know what hit them.

I think the beginning is always the hardest point to find. In this story especially, finding the beginning, the start of it all, is a rather arduous task.

 Why would I say that? Because everyone who’s even marginally important has their own motive. Their own beginning. And their beginning was caused by the actions of someone else who had a beginning of their own, and so on and so forth until keeping them all straight is a titan’s job.

 Which is probably why Narrators are in such high demand.

 I know which beginnings I will use for this story, but before we get there, I’d like to tell you about some of the other beginnings I could have used.

 Many pieces fall into place years before our beginning.

 Some will say this started with an injured elf, and his Master’s dedication. A surprising thing, for commonly it goes the other way.

 This beginning is one of my favorites, as it led to a wonderful finish.

 Others of my kind will snarl that it started with a burning wardrobe and then-misplaced distrust. It’s true that Tom proved him right in the end, but I dislike that answer because they never tell us why the distrust came.

 Hate for things not yet done is a terrible thing.

 Some who have lived through our story can claim it started with witchcraft that shouldn’t be, the backlash of a spell that doesn’t follow any rules we know. Of course, they only say this after the finish line has been reached, because when the girl arrives out of time she doesn’t know of magic. She knows of more important things, though -- She knows of chaos, ruthlessness, and family.

 A few say it started with three brothers; brothers who were too powerful, too curious, too dangerous. Sadly, most of these few overlook the most important bit. These brothers were too loving; they loved the world and each other so, so much.

 Enough to look death in the face and say Not Yet.

 Some will tell you it started with four great friends who wanted safety for themselves and their futures. Friends whose names went down in history alongside their home. Four friends who, like the brothers, fought and bled for and against each other, determined and caring till their end.

 (Four friends who were ripped down to three).

 Others still will claim it started with four boys sharing a dorm. And here again, the cycle repeats. When their story stagnates and slides into another, there are three holding each other up. I don’t like this cycle, which may be one reason I like my story and its beginning best.

 You see, some, - many, - bonds aren’t meant to be broken, but wounds can be sutured.

 Another can claim it started in a dreary playground, where a boy told a girl about magic. Their friendship, built on secrets and similarities, seemed like it would last forever.

 It didn’t. I can’t say I rooted for it.

 Some claim it started years later, in a train compartment and with a friendship forged on stubbornness and an odd conversation about treason. As if anyone uses the word treason anymore.

 A rare few, so few I hear their voices like whispers on the wind, claim it started in a hospital. I ignore them. Nothing starts at birth, just as few things end in death.

 Many, those I like, will tell you it started with an experiment gone wrong in a basement, and a mother who was lost too early. I don’t know if this started anything, but it did affect a lot of things. You must understand, some abilities don’t have a baseline because they don’t have a point of reference.

 An achingly large group will tell you it started with a prophecy, which is just… ugh. Prophecies aren’t there to start stories, they guide them.

  And many of the aforementioned will also waffle and say it started with a failed massacre. (Whether there’s one survivor or four, it’s a failure.)

 I could tell you how macabre I find that, but there are rather a lot of failed murders where we’re going, so I suppose I shouldn’t.

 As I said, there are many beginnings out there. Others claim it started with a letter, or with blood on the sidewalk, or a soft question under a tree. A threat to a young celebrity, maybe, or sharing a compartment on the train. A professor-murderer turning to dust under a child’s hands. Screaming from warnings ignored. Whispers against walls while children with quiet eyes observed.

 I find if we were to follow those theories, it wouldn't have started with any of the mentioned events. No, it would have started with the following acceptance. 

 The last claims I’ll mention are those from the people who claim it started when magic was first born. This is conceited, and yet it’s true. What is magic, if not intent and imagination? What are stories, if not the same?

 I’ve walked you through many of the other beginnings that will grow to be important, however vaguely. I’m afraid if I took you through all of them, we’d never reach our story. But if you pay attention, and perhaps review these passages here and there, they should clear up nicely.

 My favorite beginning is a bit more of a middle.

 On Wednesday, July twenty-fourth, nineteen-ninety-one, the day begins rather normally for a number of people. Assuming you aren’t utterly annoyed by my last set of openings, I’ll give you a few more quick ones before expanding upon my favorite.

 In a castle on the Scottish highlands, an owl wings away one day after its brother and moments after its friend, delivering a letter to a small muggle town. Eight months ago this same owl took nearly the same route, delivering a near-identical letter to the same house.

 In Potter Cottage, the man of the house heads to work while the woman reads. Their son sleeps in, having been up late last night practicing spells in secret. His letter will come today, delivered by the friend of our first owl. But he doesn’t need a booklist to get a wand.

 In number ten, Magnolia Crescent, an adult cracks open a door to check on their children, only to find both asleep, one over a book and the other on their back, sharing a pair of blue earbuds. The adult smiles and moves on.

 Within a wizarding mansion known as Chamois Hills, the heir is ensconced high in the library, despite the hour. Has he slept at all? Probably not.

 In Casa Di Cianuro, a child wakes up with a heaving chest and a black tongue. He doesn't remember going to sleep.

 In number eight, Magnolia Crescent, most of the tenants are sleeping, like many others. Magic was washed from this house six years ago, but sometimes those living there can still see something off. The hallway’s just barely too long, and the four year old is trying to figure out how they know that.

 (There’s an extra bedroom, sometimes).

 Back across the country, in a once-Selwyn Townhouse known as Tannis Villa, a child wakes up to tapping from one of the owls mentioned earlier. His school letter came yesterday, but the important letters, the one from his friends and brother, are coming today.

 In number four, Privet Drive, a woman cooks a large breakfast for her larger husband and son, cooing all the while. Their manners are atrocious, but she loves them anyway. They’re her only chance for a normal life.

 Now let’s hop over again, because in a territory off to the west of London, (or so I assume. Maps are a little… wrinkled here), there are two children laying on a bedroom floor. They’re in the middle bedroom, on the second story, of number ten, Magnolia Crescent.

 Harry Peverell and Fay Dunbar-Black are both asleep. Very typical, I know. Probably in the top fifty ways to start a story. I like this moment of peace, because it gives me a slow moment to let you meet our characters. And believe me, you’ll want your slow moments. Chaos dogs many a waking step.

 Hadrian Peverell, or Harry Potter, where most of the world are concerned, is ten only for another week. His skin is brown, excluding the marks of unnatural black. He has four as of today. A simplistic lightning bolt across his right cheek, a static edged circle on his left shoulder, a ragged near-triangle on his back, and a small line near his brain stem. The last mark is hidden under his hair at the moment, since he’s asleep on his stomach, using his arms as a pillow while the book he was reading six hours ago lays just to the side of his head.

 Harry’s hair is black, and the pieces still in the braid are nearly collarbone length. His sister braided it two days ago, and the flowers have been removed, but the braid hasn’t. The flyaways give a bit of a halo effect.

 He’s dressed in blue pyjamas that fit, contrary to many stories where someone with his name and some of his traits appear.

 Fay shifts, just barely, at this point. She looks a lot like her brother. Her skin is a pale brown that would match his if only a few shades deeper, and her hair is just as deep of a black. Her pyjamas are purple and black, and unlike Harry, she meant to fall asleep. It’s obvious in the way she’s on her back, shifted so she can share Harry’s earbuds and still be comfortable enough for sleep, and by the blanket that’s under her arm. Her hair is loose, and snarling something fierce. This is where the most obvious difference between the siblings will be seen; Fay’s hair is calmer than Harry’s when loose. She takes after her mother as much as he takes after his father.

 They both sleep like the dead, unmoving aside from their breathing. Sometimes that stutters too.

 Fay’s papa leans his head into the door, a soft smile on his face. Adrian Dunbar is a stark contrast to most of this family. Pale and blond, scottish to their indian, iranian, and latina, the biggest commonality he has with them is long hair. That’s never stopped him from loving his children, though by the standards of some, only one of them is really his. Adrian has never pretended to care. They’re his on paper and in heart, and that’s what matters.

 Adrian moves on, now that he’s assured himself that neither of his middle kids are missing, despite one bedroom being empty. There’s a three year old in the room beside Fay’s, who he checks on next. Ian’s parents had been killed in a car wreck two days ago, and the Dunbar-Black residences were looking after him until a safe permanent placement could be found

 Ian is also asleep, so again Adrian moves on. The lone room across the hall holds sixteen year old Caspian Ellington, who’s been with them almost as long as Harry. He’s awake, and drawing. Adrian knocks on the doorframe once, and Caspian looks up enough to wave and wish him a good morning.

 From there we follow Adrian to the end of the currently short hall, past the bedroom at the top of the stairs, and down into the main house. He walks past the living room, which is empty, past the cupboard under the staircase, which he can see into since they removed the door years ago. Into the kitchen, where his wife is glaring down at the pancake griddle.

 Vivian Dunbar looks over and smiles. “Morning, love. You get enough sleep?”

 Adrian shrugs, coming up to stand beside her. “I hope so. Carl said the tox screen and the metal residue were enough to match a suspect, so it should be over until I have to go to court again.”

 “So not enough sleep, but you’re fine with that because you got justice instead?”

 Adrian laughs and bumps noses with his wife. “Got it started, at least. The kids are all still asleep. Any word from Reg?”

 “Not yet,” and although Vivian’s tone is wry, it’s my job to tell you she’s hiding worry. Vivian’s best friend, Regulus Black, returned to a terrible place two days ago, on an investigative kick. The last time the three of them got together in that place, Regulus was nearly killed.

 “He’ll call Kreature if something happens,” Adrian says. His tone is solid, but he’s just as worried. Last time, Regulus didn’t. “He wouldn’t leave the kids.”

 “Of course not,” Vivian agrees, as if it’s obvious. And it is; if anything can be said for Regulus Black it’s that he cares for his kids, as many as those are. She’s reassured by the statement anyway.

 They continue on for a little while, spending a lazy summer morning together before having to go their separate ways for work that doesn’t end by the season. Adrian still has to complete the autopsies for Ian’s parents, and Vivian works with Regulus in CPS.

 But before they split, they’re joined by the kids. Fay leads the way, her hair loose but brushed straight and dressed in a denim dress over leggings. “Morning Mama! Morning Papa.” She greets her parents with hugs.

 She’s followed by Harry, who’s carrying Ian. He’s dressed in a graphic-t under a flannel and jeans, and his hair still hasn’t been redone. Ian’s in plain blue and white, wide blue eyes smiling under red hair.

 The last in is Caspian, brown eyes smiling, with a pencil tucked behind his ear and poking out of dark hair.

 “Well if it isn’t Thing Three,” Adrian grins, greeting him with a forehead kiss.

 “Dadri. Did you find the cause of death?”

 “Not as such, but I found something. Tell you when it hits the court. My bet is on poison, though.”

 Harry grins, moving to cut a pancake into smaller pieces for Ian. “We certainly do love poisons.”

 “Poison and acid are not the same thing!” Fay and Caspian chorus.

 Vivian laughs. I won’t explain the inside joke yet, but I will tell you it is one, and it concerns melting enchanted metal.

 By the time Harry has his own breakfast plated and begins eating, the last to do so since he’s on toddler duty this meal, Cadmus has returned and descended softly onto his tier of the dining room perch. Harry clicks his tongue, and the dark owl moves to settle on his bare forearm. “Hey buddy, what did Nev say?” Cadmus screeches an owl affirmative. “All good things? Good.” Harry bumps his nose to Cadmus’ beak. “Can I read it?”

 Cadmus sticks out his leg in response.

 “Thanks, Little One.”

 Cadmus alights, and returns to the perch. Noctua looks down at him and chirps. Cadmus returns the sound, and Vivian tuts her own response. “Not during breakfast, please.”

 Noctua screeches again, high and short, but both owls listen.

 Of course, magical post owls are very smart, so it isn’t at all surprising that they can follow commands. Due to being both magical and extremely intelligent, Cadmus and his fellows only appear when convenient, unless a letter is exceedingly urgent. Often post owls greet their charges or recipients at breakfast, as correspondence will always be a good way to open a day.

 “Did he like the Calendar?” Fay asks around a strawberry. Even I do not know where the strawberry came from, as she is the only one with any. Some things are not worth the narrative stress. 

 “Let a guy read, Faerie-circle.” Fay stuck her tongue out, bouncing in her seat. Harry unfolded the letter and started reading around eating. “He says thank you, but it hasn’t been long enough for the calendar to really start working so he hasn’t mentioned the fun features.”

 “Heck yeah!” Fay shrieked, pumping a fist into the air.

 “Yeah!” Ian agreed.

 Caspian reached over and ruffled the kid’s hair. “Would you like more food, Ian?”

 “No.”

 Conversations slowed down for a little while, but picked back up when another owl, this one tawny, slammed into the kitchen window.

 “I wonder how many hits it takes to kill an owl?” Harry said.

 “Or a concussion?” Fay countered. “Can owls even get concussions?”

 “If an animagus gets a concussion as an owl, will it carry over when they transform back?” Caspian asks, flicking his fingers. A fissure of black smoke reaches out and shatters the window, allowing the owl inside. “Think it’s from Dad?”

 Noctua screeches in displeasure at the mere idea of her human using another owl.

 “Hush, baby,” Vivian says, leaning backwards to pet her soothingly. “Why don’t you open it, Caspian?”

 “Looks like a ministry owl,” Adrian says as Caspian follows Vivian’s instructions. “More likely Amelia.”

 Caspian hums confirmingly as he reads through the blue-inked letter. “She’s confirming the count for dinner tomorrow. Think Dad’ll be back?”

 The table was quiet. Harry watched black smoke curl around the letter. No one was willing to say what they were all thinking.

 Vivian broke the silence after a minute, moving out of her seat. “I’ll write her back, let her know we haven’t heard from him. Do you three have any plans today?”

 “Harry’s supposed to get his Hogwarts letter,” Fay said, taking the subject change and running with it. “And the new Scooby-Doo is supposed to be on this afternoon.” Meanwhile, Harry and Caspian were having a silent conversation made up mostly of grabby hands and making faces.

 “I need to go to the library,” Harry says, looking away from his cousin-slash-brother to glance at his aunt. “I’ll probably walk.”

 Caspian grins sharply and hands the unopened second letter to Adrian. “I don’t have anything planned.”

 “Purple ink, Uncle Adrian?” Harry asks, tilting towards the table.

 “Mhm,” Adrian hums, reading the letter. “It’s an offer for the research project I wanted to try, in conjunction with one of their cases.”

 “A good offer?” Vivian asks, returning to the table with a pen.

 “Seems to be.” He stands up, kisses his three kids’ foreheads, ruffles Ian’s hair, and kisses his wife full on. “I’ll floo her now, see what’s what. Come get me if you need anything?” He takes the required minute to take care of his dishes before leaving for his lab. I would hope I don’t have to tell you he enjoys his job, and is nearly always willing to take a case.

 The case in question isn’t important right now, but it does give me a nice segway. The tawny owl that brought the letter came from Amelia Bones’ office in the Ministry of Magic. Ministry owls are trained differently than casual post owls. These owls care nothing for convenience, only time management. While they’re wonderful for proving owls are magical, it does make sending messages after arriving to work a little awkward. Amelia had been at this for years, so she knew when to send them off so they could at least pretend to be considerate.

 Vivian sends Noctua with their response, and the dark speckled owl takes a little more time to return to the Ministry. She is not a Ministry owl, but she is both smart and fast.

 Noctua slips across air currents like the professional she is, and once she finds the owl window, she glides inside and past the ministry owls.

 Noctua is both professional and a metaphoric queen, and she considers only two owls worth her time. Cadmus, because his owlet is her owlet's nestling, and Albert, because he was smart and cared more for his nestlings than he did about retirement. Any other owls, especially the Ministry's unbonded and inconsiderate owls, aren't worth the dust off her wings.

 She screeched in warning when one of the unbonded owlets dive bombed her, and then she swooped to the side and into the building itself.

 Honestly.

 This trip of hers took about three hours, so when Noctua landed in the auror's office, Amelia was on her way back from the field. She ruffled her feathers importantly, and glared at Walnut. Walnut's owlet was a big, fusty human who looked like the egg-father of Cadmus’ owlet, and Noctua did not like that. Human parents were supposed to keep their chicks in the nest for much longer than owls, and the fact that the fusty human had never come to see his chick was wrong. Noctua knew her owlet made his nest out of human chicks who had been harmed by their parents, whose owls and other protectors failed.

 That meant Walnut’s owlet deserved his eyes pecked out. Noctua hadn’t done it yet because she was a Black owl, and knew better than to attack with so many witnesses.

 Amelia and the fusty owlet entered the room together, and Noctua rustled to get Amelia’s attention. Amelia’s nest of chicks includes Albert’s owlet, and Amelia helps Noctua’s owlet find safe nests for other chicks. Amelia is okay.

 Amelia notices Noctua as she walks past, and holds up her arm for Noctua to alight to. Noctua glares at the fusty human, but stays in her place on Amelia’s arm. He breaks off when their conversation ends, and Amelia is finally able to turn to Noctua.

 “Thank you, Noctua,” Amelia says seriously. “Will they need a reply?”

 Noctua screeches a negative as Amelia pulls the letter away from her foot. Amelia reads the letter as she moves into her office, and when she finishes she looks over at Noctua and hums pityingly. Amelia pets her head, and decides to reply anyway. 

 Vivian,

  Thank you for letting me know. See you tomorrow evening, the girls have missed you guys.

 (And remind Adrian to sleep. The cadavers aren’t going anywhere.)

-Amelia

And for the second letter, well, it’s as much for Noctua as it is for Amelia. She has no doubts Regulus told Noctua to stay with the others unless they needed to contact him.

 Regulus,

  You’re worrying people again. If you need an investigative team, I have benched agents who would love something new. Please don’t miss dinner - Delphi might cry. She’s been trying to read that book on the mind arts since you left, and I haven’t been able to answer any of her questions.

 Susan’s joined Delphi in trying to learn, but I don’t know if it’s actually helpful. Hannah got her hair colored, too, and between that and Delphi’s tendencies, I think they’re plotting to make Susan’s match.

 That said, nothing is truly going haywire on our end. If the choice is between you home safe or you home soon, I can guarantee that despite our worry, we’d all agree safe is better.

 Call for backup if you need it.

-Amelia Bones, DMLE

 When Noctua takes the letters out, she ends up in the lift with the fusty human. Noctua considers it, and then takes the deplorable step to land on his head. His hair is puffy and messy, and unfairly soft. Rat bones like him shouldn’t have downy hair. Walnut looks and her and hisses, smart enough to know this isn’t a cease-fire. Noctua chirps back lightly, and gets Fusty to softly tell off Walnut for being rude.

 Noctua considers this a win. When the lift reaches her floor, she pees on his head and takes off. Fusty swears behind her, and Walnut hisses again.

 As Noctua leaves, I’m going to stay with Fusty.

 Firstly, you should know his name is actually James. James Potter, and he’s an auror, but before that he is a friend, a husband, and a father.

 The second thing you should know, is that Noctua is both biased and misinformed. Not completely wrong where the facts are concerned, but the conclusions she drew were incorrect.

 James is headed home early today, because today is the twenty-fourth and his son is supposed to receive his Hogwarts letter today. That gives them a little over a month to schedule a supply run, but most parents take their child to Diagon on their birthday, not the day they get their letter. James and his wife, Lily, are planning to go today in the hopes that it will help mitigate the crowds.

 Augusta Longbottom, a friend of Lily’s, offered to take the Potters with her when she took her grandson yesterday, (I believe I mentioned him earlier? Neville’s his name.) but the Potters refused. They wanted this milestone to be done properly, despite their son’s fame.

 Ah. Do you have questions yet? I hope so. By now, James has arrived outside his own door, so it’s time to answer some of them.

 Not that I’ll actually tell you anything this time.

 No, that wouldn’t be nearly enough fun.

 James opens his door and enters the entryway. After the explosion that destroyed their cottage the first time, they moved in with his cousins for a short time while repairs were being made, but returned when they could. Lily refused to leave the site as a memorial, and after a few years people stopped coming to gawk at the once-battle ground. 

 The two-story, four-bedroom cottage is all they need for their small family, and despite their ability to live lavishly, none of them want to.

 James is greeted first by his son, Connor Potter. Connor has light brown skin, hazel eyes, and dark, bird’s nest hair. His glasses are basic, round wire frames, and beside his father, he nearly looks like him in miniature. The easiest difference to see, beyond age, is how James’ skin is darker. Another one is the rune carved into Connor's forehead; sowilo, or a lighting strike. While James has scars - you can’t work in a firing zone and avoid them - none of them are this stark or shapely. Connor barrels into James for a hug, which is easily and enthusiastically returned. “Did you get it?” James’ voice is loud, bright with love and enthusiasm.

 “I got it!” Connor agrees with a bright smile. None of them really doubted that he would get his Hogwarts letter, but it’s still very rewarding to hit the milestone that almost every important wixen in Britain reaches. Hogwarts, once a refuge for any wix in need, is now prestigious, and the Potters have attended for centuries.

 While they’d never admit it to Connor, after their scare with Harry (and see, now is one of those moments where I as a narrator wish the characters had my brand of omniscience, it would solve so many problems) Lily and James both looked into other options. They’re glad to not use them.

 “That’s great! Congratulations, Bucktooth.”

 “Dad,” Connor whines. It’s an old nickname, and like most of the Marauder nicknames, it’s obvious if you’ve known the subject.

 “You’ll be gone for months,” James whines exaggeratedly. “I have to get in my dose of teasing before you leave.”

 “Ulch.” Connor makes a face.

 This is when Lily Potter catches up to them. She’s white, with a dark red bob and bright green eyes. As a teenager, they were interesting, but now they’re eye-catching. They’ve glowed so many times that the excess light seems to stay just behind her irises.

 “Don’t tease him too much, Jamie,” she nudged her husband with a grin. “He’s outgrowing it, remember?”

 James huffs in mock offense. “All the more reason to get in as much as I can!”

 Connor rolls his eyes and pulls away from the hug. “So can we go yet? Please?”

 “After lunch, Bucktooth,” James reminds him. Connor huffs, but lets them leave the entryway/living room and migrate to the kitchen. Conversation stays trained on Hogwarts; the supply lists, stories of Lily and James’ glory days, the best secret passages and the perfect place to place pranks against the Slytherins. And, of course, “Don’t forget to write us either! I want so many details I feel like I’m the one going to school.”

 Connor starts laughing at that. When he calms down, his next question is slightly pointed. “Is Uncle Moony joining us?”

 “Last I knew,” Lily says. “We’ll meet up in the Leaky Cauldron.”

 “Awesome.”

 The three Potters eat quickly, and the only thing that holds them back from leaving right away is a letter to the Weasleys, since Connor forgot to send one out earlier. They send Walnut; Connor will buy an owl of his own today, but they haven’t needed two before now.

 I’m tempted to follow Walnut, but while the Weasleys are incredibly important for a multitude of reasons, I know you won’t need to meet them today. You’ll meet them plenty soon, I promise.

 Instead, I’m going to break the rules of time-space for what is going to be the first of many times. It’s a narrator’s right, you see, to tell a story as we see fit. Now, if you’ll follow me back a few hours to when the Potter household received their letter from Hogwarts, I can tell you three very important things.

 It arrived with an owl. One of the many magical owls I mentioned earlier, trained specifically as post owls, but also trained to be unbonded. This was a Hogwarts owl. They were a common barn owl, much like Walnut. They stayed only long enough for an acceptance note to be written, and to take a drink of water. After that, they took to the skies again, and returned to the castle.

 This is important because once this barn owl reached the castle and delivered the letter, the letter was put in a pile with many others; including the acceptance letter from Harry Potter.

 Not that the Potter letters are the only ones in this pile. They could be, if one Minerva McGonagall opened letters every-day, but she also had a life to live, so it’s understandable she couldn’t.

 The other letters in this pile include notable names like Theodore Nott, Neville Longbottom, Sue Li, Tracey Davis, Susan Bones, and Stephen Cornfoot.

 I could take you to see any or all of them, if I were so inclined. Instead, I’m going to find Noctua again.

 This darling speck of darkness in the sky has long-since alighted upon the shoulder of her owlet, as being convenient in this instance is more to the owl’s liking than the human’s.

 Regulus Black, however, takes the arrival of his owl with minimal panic and a smile for his darling. “Good afternoon, Noctua. How are things at home?”

 She chirps an affirmative, not wanting Regulus to worry. He runs his fingers over her crown, the speckled feathers soft.

 “I’m glad. What’ve you brought me?”

 She sticks her leg out to give him the letter from Amelia, and he takes them both off. He sorts them quickly and reattaches Vivian’s.

 He smiles at Amelia’s letter, the unsubtle updates on some of his kids and the clear offers. They’re colleagues, professionally, and friends otherwise.

 The area he’s in is near Mappleton (I think. Again, I must apologize - magic makes everything a little slippery, including landmasses and landmarks.) and hasn’t been much help in his research project. The only thing he was able to find was an old fire site. Once there was an orphanage and a church, with some apartments flanking them. Now there is a large hotel.

 “A gas fire,” the few locals who remember the change say.

 A mission, a raid, Barty’s journals say.

 ‘Revenge,’ Regulus thinks. ‘Covering his tracks.’ Finding records of the children who were raised here was slow going, since he had yet to find any surviving members of the administration. Or any surviving family of even one administrator.

 And the library. Goodness. The library. Regulus was a Slytherin and proud, but his Ravenclaw side (the little voice that's all that remains of his once best friend) wants to dive headfirst into the challenge of finding anything useful in that mess.

 Instead he's trying to figure out what coded method of organization is used before he tries to find the information he needs. It's not working.

 Since, when we found him, Regulus was walking through the town on his own, leaving the library to find one of the quaint muggle restaurants that was specific to the area and might truly benefit from him eating there, it was easy for Noctua to find him.

 And, more important to both the story I've been tasked to tell and Regulus' investigation, being in the open instead of his hotel when Noctua appeared will be what finally gets Regulus a clue.

 Not yet though.

 First, Regulus reaches the small ice cream and burger shop. It's not until he's almost at the door that he remembers it's a muggle establishment, and therefore would probably not take too well to owls inside the building. Noctua has been perched on his shoulder since she found him, so he just has to turn his head to look at her. "Would you mind waiting outside, countess?"

 Noctua looks at him, yellow eyes hard, before taking just a second to preen his hair and take off. He smiles at her, and continues on his way.

 The building is small, and offers both booths and bar seating. Regulus takes the bar, and chats with the old man behind it.

 It's an odd thought that this man would be barely older than his father, had Orion Black lived, when he looks decades older than Orion had.

 Once Regulus has eaten, save for the meat he will give Noctua, he clears his small area, thanks the man, and deserts the place. His conversation won him nothing but goodwill and an appreciation for combs, but in the twelve years since he last investigated something like this he has learned to be grateful for that too.

 Regulus offers the food to Noctua as soon as he is accessible, holding it in his metal hand because he knows his owl to be violent sometimes and he does like his remaining fingers. Noctua takes it like she's winning a contest, nearly hitting the concrete behind Regulus before looping around and swooping up to land on his shoulder. The metal doesn't climb all the way up to his shoulder, but she does land on the same arm.

 A few steps back towards the library, Noctua nips his ear and huffs.

 "And what do you think I should tell them?" Regulus asks, picking up on her meaning well enough. "I'm safe just like I promised, but there's been no progress beyond confirming what I already knew?"

 She coos an affirmative, and starts preening his hair.

 "We're all codependent, aren't we?" Regulus' last question is less of a question and more of a resigned statement. Noctua keeps preening, like he’s a baby owlet.

 There's an old lady at the door to the library when they get there. Regulus smiles at her, and turns to ask Noctua if she can wait outside until he has a response letter, but before he can get beyond Noctua's name, the lady is talking.

 "You are one of them, then?"

 "I beg your pardon?" Regulus turns back to give her his full attention.

 "There was a boy like you here once. Years and years ago. Sadistic. A devil child. They say he returned to burn the orphanage and kill those who tried to tame him."

 Regulus swallows. It wasn't untrue.

 "Oh yes," the lady continues on, wispy hair fettered by sudden wind. "I tried, I tell you. But it wasn't enough. He came back from that school every year darker, quicker to lash out."

 "They taught him bigotry," Regulus says softly, a confirmation. “Taught him that the only way to earn respect was through fear.”

 “Did they teach you that too?” The woman asks.

 Regulus’ answering smile is wry. “They tried. And it worked, for a little while.”

 “You don’t have the look of vileness,” she remarks shrewdly. “They failed?”

 “I saw how far I was going, and when I defected I met people who taught me better.”

 She nods, sharp and serious. “Then you are looking for something.”

 “Yes.”

 “I will help. What do you need?”

 Regulus looks at her, really looks at her, considering. “They say Tom Riddle liked to collect trophies. I want to find and destroy them. I need the names of those he grew up with.”

 “You have

questions.”

 “Yes.”

 The woman smiles. “I’m Loretta,” she says suddenly. “Follow me.”

 Regulus grins, but Noctua nips his ear. He sends her an unamused look. “May I send a letter, first?”

 “Do as you must.”

[darkswanevent]

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[eleanor-devil]

Boruto: Sacrifices [Remade] | Chap.18 - The Ruined Birthday

Written by: Eleanor-Devil & @mirage-05​​

Prologue | Chap.1 | Chap.2 | Chap.3 | Chap.4 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 | Chap.7 | Chap.8 | Chap.9 | Chap. 10 | Chap.11 | Chap.12 | Chap.13 | Chap.14 | Chap.15 | Chap.16 | Chap.17 | Chap.18 - You're here

The day was supposed to be a happy one... but... of course due to recent circumstances it was everything but a happy day... and even less when the person for whom this day was supposed to be special... simply refused to celebrate.

"I don't want a birthday party, I don't want to celebrate anything, I DON'T care if it's my friggin' birthday! Just leave me alone!" yelled Boruto as he stomped away from his family.

That's right, it was the Hokage's eldest child's thirteenth birthday, but Boruto didn't want to celebrate anything at all... not when his best friend was in the fragile condition he was.

The blond shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and kicked a small rock that went stumbling away, crashing a few times against the floor before coming to a stop. "How can they even ask me to celebrate anything..." he mumbled as he continued walking. But then his eyes softened a little... deep down he knew that his family wasn't trying to be mean or anything like that... they had just thought that perhaps a party would have cheered him up...

But he also knew that no party, no celebration would make this better... What would it mean if one of the most important persons in his life was not going to be there...?

He hunched a little, walking aimlessly, just following his steps wherever they take him. They had no training, so he spent most of his free time - and he had lots of it right now - either worrying out of his mind about his friend or trying to find a way to get him to... Well he didn't tell this latter to anyone, because he didn't want anyone to jump on him and say it would be no use, that it was all up to Mitsuki right now...

He felt a pang in his heart. How was he doing right now...? He didn’t realize that he found his way to the training grounds, almost instinctively. His steps slowed down a little when he saw that he wasn’t exactly alone… but she was probably the only person who knew exactly what he was going through right now. It was a sign of just how occupied the girl’s mind was that she didn’t even notice his approach.

“Hey…” he mumbled as he sat down next to her, making her jump slightly.

“Oh…” was the soft exclaim Sarada gave. “Hi…” she mumbled in response, and the two were once again claimed by silence.

“I… actually had something prepared for today…” the girl said quietly after a while. “But…”

“You know exactly how I feel about it.” Boruto said with a fleeting, humorless smile.

“Yeah…”

“This sucks.” Boruto stated, picking up a small rock from the ground and tossing it around, listening to it clank around. Following it blankly with his gaze for a moment, the blond then picked another one and threw it, then another… Sarada slowly laid her head on his shoulder, which gained no response from the Uzumaki as he simply fell into the routine.

Hearing multiple sets of footsteps then, and also their name being called, they couldn’t help but look back. It was their friends of course, and it had been Metal who spoke. "Umm... happy birt-”

Boruto raised a hand to stop him. "Please, just... don't..."

Metal looked surprised for a moment but a look at his friend's eyes and he understood why he didn't want to be congratulated on his special day. He heard Inojin sigh and looked to see the Yamanaka shaking his head, it looked like a disapproving shake but Boruto didn't seem to have noticed it... or if he had, he was being quite good at hiding it.

"Hey, everyone," another voice joined them.

The group turned around to see Sumire and Iwabe approaching them. This time, before he could even get a word out, Boruto cut in. "Guys, I... appreciate, but I'm not gonna celebrate this day. I can't. So please... Don't wish me..." He couldn't even get that word out. How could this day be happy? "I just... gotta go now... See you around when today is over."

And with that he just left, again all alone...

“Sarada…” Chocho tried to say, but the girl flinched as if she had brandished a whip at her.

“I… I’m sorry, I can’t…” and with that she also left, it was clear to all of them that she was trying to hold it together.

Metal sighed. "This can't go on like this…”

“I know,” Inojin agreed, rubbing his neck. “And it’s not only them, this whole situation affects Shikadai too."

“There has to be something we can do,” said Iwabe.

Sumire thought about it for a moment. “Okay, why don’t you all go and see Shikadai and we will check on Sarada with Chocho?”

"Check on her...?" the Akimichi asked, suddenly feeling a little awkward. "I really think she needs to be left alone..."

“We can’t do that though, can we?” Sumire’s tone was gentle, she was no stranger to Chocho’s social awkwardness, but also determined to see this through. "She needs us right now, even though she doesn’t realize it fully."

The dark skinned girl crumpled the bag of chips in her hand. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right.”

With a new found resolution, the friends parted ways, each group going their different way.

...

It had become a daily routine by now to hide in the shadow of the doors and watch his son carefully from afar.

The big change in Shikadai’s behavior had become a constant source of worry for Shikamaru in the past few days, but if he was to be specific, after the second meeting. He had been quiet in observing the interaction between his son and the Sarutobi heir, because he knew Shikadai had to steam off a little, which had been hard for even some of them, so he wasn’t about to blame his son for it. On the contrary, he had been quite proud of him to call Ichiro out on the harassments.

But this quietness had gone on for way too long. And it wasn’t just that. Shikadai had dropped off everything… he had almost literally dropped out of the face of earth for all there is to it, the older Nara suspected he wouldn’t even eat anything if it wasn’t for Temari and Karura. It was very often that he caught his son staring at the letter, the one Mitsuki gave him before he left Naruto’s office.

He, of course, didn’t know the contents of the letter, but whatever was in it had hurt Shikadai in a way more than what he had witnessed in the hospital, he could tell that.

And he had dropped Shogi altogether.

Which was making Shikamaru’s job even harder to understand his son. Sure, they had their normal talks like any father and son, but especially when Shikadai was as troubled as this, it was easier for the older man to read him like clear water in the game they both enjoyed so much.

It was close to physical pain to see his boy suffering like this. And he was willing to change that now, whatever it took.

Sighing inaudibly, Shikamaru moved a step away from his hiding place and approached the young boy. “Oi, Shikadai… what about a quick game of Shogi, eh?” Of course, their games were never quick per se, but he was willing to get beaten quickly for just a glimpse into his mind.

“Oyaji…” Shikadai mumbled, suddenly looking awkward for some reason. He brought his hand up to rub his neck, not meeting his father’s eyes. “I… thanks for the offer but I don’t really feel up to it.”

“Come on, it will be just one game,” Shikamaru insisted. “You usually don’t turn me down.”

“Yeah, I know but…” The young boy sighed then. “Yeah, okay… just one game.”

It didn’t go unnoticed by the older Nara that his son grabbed the pocket of his pants for a second, where he knew the letter was, but Shikadai otherwise remained silent as they sat at the table and began putting their pieces on the board.

The game started as usual, both of them falling into a familiar rhythm soon enough. It was about six moves into it that Shikamaru realized that his son was really not into it today.

“Checkmate.” he said as he put his winning piece on the board. There was a note of uncertainty in his voice, as though he couldn’t believe this just happened.

Which was the case. The only game he remembered that lasted as short as this one was when he taught his boy for the first time how to play the game.

Shikadai’s look of disbelief was a mirror of his own as he stared at the board. “I… don’t…” he gulped. “One more…?”

The older Nara just nodded and they put the pieces on once again. A chink in his invisible armor had just broken, his true emotions leaking out of it, and Shikamaru was willing to push forth.

It took longer this time… About eleven moves into the game, but surely, the young boy was beaten again. This time, Shikamaru was shaken out of his initial shock, and was able to pay closer attention. Still, he remained silent to allow Shikadai to figure out his mistake on his own, out of respect to the intelligence he was well aware his son possessed.

But to the contrary, Shikadai looked even more aggravated at the second defeat, and his movements were becoming more erratic. It took seven moves in the third round.

And they were back to six in the fourth re-match, with his son, always the poster child of calmness, practically fuming now.

Shikamaru closed his eyes, feeling the need to intervene at last. “Shikadai…” he said, leaning in closer to indicate a piece. “Why don’t you move this pawn instead?”

“No.” was the boy’s immediate - and firm - reply, which took the man off guard. Was his son offended that he showed him a move? Honestly, this was something they never did to one another.

“You will push my king to the edge - now it’s in a bind.” He tried once again, gentler.

“Only after you capture the pawn.” There it was again, the stubborn, defiant note. “I’m not going to sacrifice a pawn.”

“Where did this come from?” Shikamaru was now completely baffled. “This had never been a problem before.” The whole point of this game’s strategy was, after all, capturing the king, even when some pieces are lost.

His son’s brows were slightly furrowed, mostly out of frustration he could tell, as he continued to avoid his gaze. “Why is it that it’s always the pawns that are sacrificed…?”

Shikamaru sighed again, it was clear that the problem ran deeper than the game. “Shikadai… tell me what’s on your mind.”

And still there were no answers… but the Nara was patient, he had no problems in matching his son’s pace if it could ease the mind of the boy. Finally, almost hesitantly, the boy rummaged in his pocket and put the contents on the table. He recognized the handwriting on the letter, the one he had delivered to his son days ago. On it was a piece of Shogi, a pawn to be exact.

“Today is Boruto’s birthday.” Shikadai said, his eyes on the letter.

Of course Shikamaru was aware of that, more often than not until last year he was the one who kept Naruto on track on this kind of normalities, especially when the Hokage was too lost in the village business. He didn’t say anything, though, just allowing his son to speak his mind.

“He… he was preparing a big party for them, and I even helped for it…” A small huff of a smile, although one without humor behind it as Shikadai tapped the letter. “And for what? He left the village and left me a letter with a piece of pawn in it.” He took the pawn in his hand, looking at it as if transfixed. “Make it count… He should’ve been here to see his plan through… But…” after another long look at it, he pretty much threw the piece on the board. “Instead he went and willingly sacrificed himself like a pawn.”

So this was what it was all about… his son continued in the pause he made to formulate his reply.

“Is this what all pawns are about then? All there is to being a ninja? We play our role in the game and make sacrifices for our own?” Now he was looking at the board like it was the cause of all his problems. “And we still go and celebrate life like it still holds a meaning… Oyaji… does it?”

This was when Shikamaru had realized that they had never thoroughly touched upon this subject, not the two of them at least. Out of the household, Karura was her brother’s closest confidant. But he and Shikadai seemed to connect on a different level, and he needed to provide his son the comfort he needed.

But he was also aware that he had to do it in a way that would acknowledge his son’s brilliance, so as to encourage Shikadai in his own way, to make him come to his own conclusions.

So instead of an immediate reply, he picked the pieces they were playing with once again. “One more?”

Shikadai barely suppressed a sigh, a little crestfallen. “I don’t know if it’s worth getting beaten over and over. The strategy just won’t work.”

“No, see,” said Shikamaru, holding up a finger to stop him. “This time we’re going to play it by your rules.”

“There is only one set of rules, though.”

“Not if we go unorthodox.” He was all set. “Alright then… you make the first move.”

The young boy just kept gazing at the board. “You didn’t put the pawns.”

“Exactly.” He was watching his son’s every move carefully, looking for patterns he could identify. “You don’t want to sacrifice a pawn, right? Then we don’t use them at all.”

“We can’t do that, can we? You need all twenty pieces to play.”

A small smile - he was playing right to where he needed him to be. “Humor me.”

Shikadai let his breath out in a huff, he was indeed trying to form a strategy with the eleven pieces that suddenly seemed… almost lonely on the board. But whichever he picked came short more or less two moves later.

“This won’t do!” he finally exclaimed, openly frustrated now. “The best option - if any - is to make the first move with the rook, but you can’t foresee even one move from your opponent without the backup of the… the…” he came to a halt as finally the realization hit, and he understood that this had been his father’s plan.

“Without the pawn.” Shikamaru concluded for him softly, putting one of the said pieces in place, right where it would make a difference by blocking the opponent’s move. When his son said nothing to it, the look in his eyes turned pensive. “You see, Shikadai, as hard as it is to accept… the truth remains that you stand strong wherever you have something that is very important to you, something you are determined to protect at all costs.” He had put three more pawns on the board now, and the boy’s sharp mind could see the almost infallible strategy behind it. “So yes, while it’s our duty to protect our own as a ninja, some of us walk into the fire willingly.” He put the last piece as he drew back slightly, looking at him expectantly.

Almost infallible. But his mind had been working on a counter-strategy the moment he saw the third pawn on the board. “It still doesn’t make me feel better.” he murmured as he leaned forward to put one of his own pawns.

“I know… it didn’t help me back then either.” Shikamaru made another move, pleased to see that they were getting somewhere. The young boy raised his head with a confused look. “Back when my sensei Asuma didn’t think twice about putting his life on the line to protect the king… even when it meant him never meeting his daughter… so yeah. It was hard for me to understand that kind of devotion.”

“What changed then?” the boy wondered as he put another piece. Shikamaru thought about it for a second.

“Nothing, really… just that I understood and made peace with what mattered the most for him.” Another move. “Tell me… do you know who the king stands for?”

Shikadai took a long look at the key piece, turning the question in his mind. Practicality almost made him answer with ‘The Hokage’, but he knew better than that. The answer couldn’t be that obvious, there had to be more to it. He made another move as he weighed the options in his mind.

He still wasn’t satisfied with it, but he went with the next best option. “The people of Konoha? Our village?”

The older Nara’s smile turned knowing, his son was really like him in so many ways, not just physically… “Think about it this way.” The boy was playing almost instinctively, but he really had him cornered now. “You are a jounin leading your troop in a war. What would be the first thing you need to target from your enemy?”

“It’s… their artillery, I suppose?” He could’ve said their headquarters or the top ninja, but that would hit only too close home.

“What about the immaterial things? What could you destroy from an enemy that would have a lasting impact?”

This was a harder question. Shikadai took his time in answering, just allowing the sounds of the moving pieces on board to guide the direction of his thoughts, as if it was a river in which he was slowly floating instead of a jumbled mess.

Then he thought about his friends… not just his teammates but also his childhood friends and those from the academy… and the words just came through.

“Their hope… ideals… everything they want to build I think? Because they wouldn’t even stand up if they don’t believe in a…” He trailed off as their game came to an end.

Shikamaru was now positively beaming at him. “Checkmate. Congratulations.”

“Future…” the boy completed his sentence in a whisper, gazing at the conclusion in wonder.

“That’s what we all fight for. Don’t ever forget that.” Picking up his king, the man handed it to his son before closing his hand over his. “Besides, pawns aren’t just sacrifices. If you stay strong, give them the chance, a pawn can always become a general.”

Shikadai’s fingers tightened a little around the piece too and finally, finally a smile showed through his features, small as it was. It was all Shikamaru could ask for.

Just then they heard someone clearing her throat and turned around to see Karura looking at them with a slightly relieved, slightly amused expression.

“I hate to interrupt, but Inojin and the others are here.” she informed them. “And they said they won’t take no for an answer.”

“There is no need. I was about to go find them myself.” It was refreshing, way more than he wanted to admit, to be back to his own self. Just before he sprinted to the gates, the boy turned to look at his father once again, his gratitude showing crystal clear in his eyes. “Oyaji… thank you.”

Shikamaru didn’t answer, just raised his hand in acknowledgement.

...

Boruto had just wandered into a kid's playground and he had no idea of how he came there, but it wasn't like it really mattered. It wasn't like he cared at all. He walked over to the swings, sitting on one of them and just staying there, not even moving a little to swing.

How simple... how untouched would things have been if they were just small kids?

"Boruto..." he heard someone calling but even when the voice sounded different, he didn't look up, lacking the energy to even give a reply.

"Boruto..." the second voice came. "We know you're down because of what happened but... we're your friends too, and we want to help." There was a moment of hesitation. "Please don't push us away..." He recognized that voice as Metal's.

But he still didn't look up.

"Tch... you are just being ridiculous"

Boruto's hands tightened a little more on the swing's ropes, but he still didn't say anything, still didn't look up.

That person wasn't about to give up though. "You act like you're crying over a girlfriend who dumped you. Get a hold on, already."

"Iwabe!" Inojin exclaimed unbelievably, turning to look at his friend.

Boruto finally looked up, directly in Iwabe's eyes, fire burning in his own. "Shut the hell up."

“It’s not that easy.” Shikadai said with a sigh, rubbing his neck. “Look Boruto… I know what you’re going through…”

“You know nothing.” was Boruto’s automatic reply without thinking. This made the Nara furrow his brows a little.

“Don’t I? I was there too, remember?”

In turn, this made the blond come to a halt. Yeah, truthfully… he had completely forgotten Shikadai had witnessed what he and Sarada did too, maybe even the worst of it. Now he was feeling a little guilty. “I…”

“I know it’s hard, it’s been for me too. But… life has to move on, if for nothing, we should make sure of that because that’s what Mitsuki wanted for all of us. Do you really think he would want us to be depressed over him forever?”

Boruto closed his eyes for a moment, as he felt himself shaking a little. "What do I know what he wants...? He is not here to tell me..." He didn't care about what Shikadai just said, how was he supposed to know how life would move on? Before he knew it, his bitter side was taking over, and although he knew deep down that his friends were only worried for him, it was unfortunately directed to them. "You don't have to hang around if you feel depressed... doesn't look like it will pass away."

This time it wasn’t Shikadai who was talking, Inojin did while frowning. "Do you think we're going to leave when you need us most? What kind of friends would we be if we did that?"

Boruto didn't say anything to it but he felt Metal walking up and kneeling down in front of him.

"We don't have to celebrate anything if you don't want to but... if it makes you feel better, we can all go visit him. We're here for you, Boruto... like Inojin said, we are your friends too and if you need someone, we're here..."

"You don't know how it was like..." the blond mumbled, staring at the ground. "To have him dying in my arms... Life leaving his eyes as he bled out... His..." He squeezed his eyes shut, trembling hard. "When his heart stopped... I can't keep these images out of my head... I don't know what to do if he doesn't..." He couldn't finish his sentence.

And he didn't need to finish... because Metal pulled him in a hug that slowly gathered the other boys too.

"It will be okay, he will be okay. He is strong and we all know it..."

Boruto just broke down right there and then. Sobbing his heart out as the images of his friend dying flashed in his head. He tried, he really did, tried to replace those images with the happiest ones he could ever remember.

He wasn't even sure how long they stood there, but realized just the presence of his friends easing up his pain little by little. It was still there, he knew it wouldn't go away completely no matter what, not until Mitsuki wakes up, but it was becoming manageable, and eventually the sobs calmed down, leaving the boy only trembling a little.

“Well,” Shikadai said as they finally broke apart, with a bit of a smile. “I have something to show you. Sarada will meet us on the way there.”

The others slowly got up. "Well... we have to go anyway."

"No." Boruto said clearly, and a little firmly. "Guys... I'm sorry, you can come too. We would like that. Lead the way Shikadai."

With that, the group left the playground. Indeed, they were joined by Sarada and the other girls not too long after. Boruto noticed that his teammate’s eyes were red, as if she was crying too, but the two didn’t say anything to each other as they moved forth to the mysterious location.

Soon they found themselves in the depths of Konoha's forest. Boruto knew where this would lead to but he wondered what exactly his childhood friend wanted to show him there.

As they slowly made their way to the edge of the cliff overlooking the huge waterfall... The scene that met their eyes made Boruto come to a staggering halt, his eyes widening slightly.

"Wh... Wha..." he tried to say, but words were failing him.

The scene in front of him reminded him of a film he watched and talked to his friends about some time ago, he didn't remember when... A make-shift boat stood to the edge of the cliff, with what he was sure "Team Konohamaru" written on its prow, some of the words missing... A black cloth was attached to the ledge which stood in the middle of the boat, with a white skull figure on it - although the skull looked anything but intimidating, there was actually a smile on it, if anything, it looked a little creepy. Various other decorations and accessories laid scattered around, as if they were booty that they had gathered...

Shikadai went and picked up something. "This was our surprise... Or his, actually he planned the whole thing, I just helped." He turned to him, holding a multi-colored wooden parrot in her hands. "Happy birthday," he said, giving him a small smile.

Boruto continued gaping, speechless, as he carefully took the wooden parrot in his hands, he took it with such care as if it would break right there and then.

He couldn't believe Mitsuki had done this...how had he even managed to keep it in secret all this time? That boy sure was a box of surprises...

The blond felt his throat starting to burn, he opened his mouth but no words came out, just a simple gasp...

"That..." he finally managed to say. "...that guy..." he was clearly emotional with the situation.

“So… that day when he didn’t want me to walk with him after the training…” Sarada’s breath was hitching a little as she brought her hand over her eyes, shaking her head a little. “Was this all it was about…?”

“Yeah… it was.” Shikadai’s smile was small but soft, remembering just how excited his friend was planning all of this. “You guys’ birthdays being so close, he had to keep it from you too. That’s where I came into the picture.”

"Guys... it's alright, let it go if you need it..." Inojin said carefully. They had been just looking around unbelievably, not knowing what to say.

"So almost everyone... knew..." Boruto whispered between his heavy breath, he tried to keep the tears from falling but it didn't work... they just came back and started falling from his eyes...

All the others remained in silence while watching the two friends cry...

"And above all...he chose this place..."

"I don’t know the importance of this place, he never told me.” The Nara was looking carefully at his friend. “Just that it held a special meaning.”

“It did?” Sarada was just as curious as the rest.

He didn't want to talk about it. About their promise... they had both sworn... and he remembered Mitsuki's words from only a few days ago... '

I can't give you a promise I can't keep...'

[Flashback]

"Jump!" Boruto lost his balance when he reached the edge of the cliff, flailed his arms wildly for a bit, then both him and Mitsuki tumbled down.

It was exhilarating!

He couldn't help but scream in excitement as they fell down some meters below into the river. The chilling water cut his breath on impact and for a while, stars danced in front of his eyes. Then he kicked up and burst through the surface, laughing joyously.

"Haha, that was priceless, don't you agree?"

There were no replies.

Confused more than concerned, Boruto looked around. Where was Mitsuki? They had both jumped in... didn't they?

Fear hit him at the possibility, and he immediately looked up... He could see no one at the top of the cliff... Not even the thug was there, which made the blond frown - what was going on?!

"Mitsu-!" just then, a hand was clamped on his mouth, and he struggled to get free of it.

"Not now." came his friend's voice from behind him and Boruto felt himself immediately relaxing. "He could be around here, we should stay low."

And so they retreated back to hide behind a rock, eyes keen and watching everywhere as they listened on to the sounds...

It took a while... and the voice was dimmed due to the roar of the waterfall, but finally they heard something.

"Boruto? Mitsuki! Come out wherever you are now!"

"That's sensei..." the blond said, looking at his friend in relief. They both came out of their hiding spot, looking upwards.

Hands on her knees and bending a little forward to see clearly, Sarada pointed. "There they are, sensei!"

Konohamaru breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that his students were safe. "Come up here quickly!" he called towards the duo again, then looked at the man he had just caught and bound. "We have a package to deliver and we can't lose time!"

"Yeah yeah, we will be up there in a minute!"

Hearing the lazy and carefree tone in Boruto's voice, the jounin felt his temper rising slightly. "There is no time to dawdle! Get moving - now!"

Mitsuki looked at his friend. "I believe it would be wise to do as we are told."

"Yeah, they can wait a little." Boruto said, still carefree. "First I want to make sure of something."

Mitsuki raised an eyebrow at this - leave it to Boruto to get on the nerves of their sensei. "What is it? I'm positive that Konohamaru sensei took care of that thug."

"Nah, it's not about that."

But the blond made no further explanation as they waddled their way ashore, which made the blue-haired preteen even more curious. "Boruto..."

Then his friend finally turned to him. "Oka- whoa...!" before losing his balance and tumbling on the ground.

Mitsuki laughed for a little, which earned him a scowl from Boruto, but in a moment it was replaced by a smirk and the blond reached up to pull his friend down as well. In the next minute, they were both laughing their heads off.

"Okay. This calls for a promise." the Uzumaki said all of a sudden, catching Mitsuki by surprise.

"What promise are you talking about?"

"Simple. Promise me that, just like today, we will always be by each other's side, no matter what, always there to help each other." Boruto raised his fist. "And I promise the same to you."

Mitsuki looked at him for a second before raising his fist and bumping it against Boruto's. "I promise."

[End of Flashback] (1)

As Boruto reopened his eyes, determination shone in them. "I made up my mind," he whispered softly.

"Huh?" asked Sarada, confused.

"I want to celebrate my birthday after all." the blond said a little more clearly, finally letting his gaze drift away from the blanket of white on the ground.

This sudden change in his resolve was certainly unexpected, but it managed to bring a smile to his friends' faces. "Well, that's great," Metal said, they were all relieved that Boruto was able to snap out of it. "So if you still want we can-"

"Guys, um... I'm sorry..." the blond said sheepishly, bringing his hand to his neck. "Can we... do that later...? I... kinda have to make up for someone else first."

"Oh... uh, sure..." Inojin said with a bright smile, one which made Boruto feel a little ashamed because of the way he treated them earlier. "We'll arrange that later." Then, one by one, all of his friends came forward to hug him. "Happy birthday, Boruto."

"Thanks, you guys," he said, finally managing a small smile. He and Sarada watched until their friends were out of sight. Then the blond took the Uchiha's hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Not saying anything else to her, he took out his cellphone. "Hello, mom? Mom, I'm really sorry about the way I behaved... I-I want to celebrate my birthday..." Boruto smiled as he, undoubtedly, heard Hinata's happy tone. "Can all of you meet us in the hospital...?"

...

The snow was spiraling down in a white haze out of the building, piling up on the already thick blanket on the ground. The building itself was alight, the windows glowing in the darkness.

One of the rooms had a very lively party going on inside, as lively as the hospital rules allowed of course. The room contained the youngest patient in the hospital currently, a thirteen-year-old hero.

The hustle and bustle that was going on was a courtesy of his best friend, Uzumaki Boruto, who had insisted that if he was going to have any kind of celebration for his birthday... it was gonna have to include his best friend.

Boruto smiled brightly as those who gathered in the room finished the birthday song, and then he leaned forward to blow the candles out. He was wearing a pirate hat that his friends had bought, and (because they couldn't make it sit on his shoulder) the wooden parrot was standing on the table beside him.

Claps echoed around the room; the entirety of the Uzumaki and Uchiha families were inside the room, plus Konohamaru. They were all practically cramped in the room, and although they had received some stink eyes, seeing the circumstances, they were allowed in; with the pretense that the visit should be short. Which Sakura felt the need to remind them of after they finished their share of the cake.

"I'm sorry, but this is as far as I can let you be in here." she said, with an understanding smile directed to the birthday boy, Sarada and Himawari.

Himawari pouted and let out a long 'aww' before Sarada walked over to her and put her hands on her shoulder to lead her out. The adults followed not too long after, after wishing Boruto the best for his new year.

When everyone left, the blond eyed Sakura a little nervously. "Aunt Sakura... can I please stay a little more?"

The look in the pink haired woman's eyes only softened more. "Of course, dear, but no more than five minutes."

He just nodded and watched until Sakura was out before turning his head back at his friend once again...

[Flashback]

"Oww!"

Boruto flinched a little as Mitsuki gave a short yelp of pain following a thud. He... wasn't exactly adjusted to darkness as he would like to think, plus not knowing Mitsuki's house good enough... didn't help with things much. Which was something his blue-haired friend pointed out soon enough.

"I still don't understand why I have to be led into my own house blindfolded, Boruto..."

"You'll see in a minute," the blond said, barely being able to hold back a chuckle. He didn't want to give anything away. He wanted everything to be great... he wanted his best friend to feel he was welcomed...

And in his mind? This was the best opportunity.

"At least don't make me bump into another thing, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," the blond said cheerily. "Hey, wait over here for a moment, will you? I'll be right back..."

"Boruto..." there was a warning tone in the younger boy's voice.

"Don't open your eyes until I say so!" Boruto called before carefully finding his way to the couch and hiding behind it... coming face to face with his little sister.

"Can't believe you almost blew our cover!" Himawari whispered indignantly.

"Look who's talking! Keep your voice down, will you!"

"Boruto!" Mitsuki's voice came, impatient. "Can we get over with this already?"

"Well?" Sarada asked from the other corner. "Any reason to keep waiting?"

"Is there anyone else here?" this time, Mitsuki sounded confused.

Well... he couldn't see any point in hiding anymore. The blond gave a small nod, and Himawari darted towards the kitchen to notify their mothers, who had been taking care of the cake.

They then heard Mitsuki sigh. "This is getting ridiculous..."

Boruto felt more than saw what his friend was about to do - and it was too early for it! So when he saw the trio coming out of the kitchen already - he rushed forward to stop them... just when Sarada noticed something and plopped out of her hiding spot to alert them...

And that was how Mitsuki found them when he turned on the lights. Himawari, Hinata and Sakura coming out of the kitchen, Hinata holding a huge cake with lit candles on it, Boruto practically on his tiptoes as he was trying to approach them discreetly and Sarada, frozen in the middle of waving her arms towards their direction, half-seen behind the armchair... all of them comically stopped in their tracks.

To break through the awkwardness of the situation, Himawari bent down to snatch a handful of confetti they had previously thrown around for decoration and just threw them over. "Happy birthday, Mitsu-nii!"

The blue-haired boy was so baffled that for a moment, he could do nothing but look around at the decorations with widened golden eyes. "W... what is..."

Following his sister's lead, Boruto snapped out of his stance and came over to his friend's side, putting an arm on his shoulder as he grinned widely. "Don't tell me you forgot it! Happy birthday, Mitsuki!"

The boy was still at a loss for words. "I..."

"Sorry it's not that much," the blond continued almost sheepishly, but he couldn't keep the glee out of his voice anyway. "I wanted to do something more detailed since it's your first birthday here, it should be special, and man, twelve is an important age..."

Hinata gave a soft chuckle at her overly-enthusiastic son. "Boruto, just give him a breath of fresh air..."

"...and we would've arranged something more if you told us about this previously, I mean, who says it's his birthday just the day before it?! It's a crime, I'm telling you..."

"Boruto." Mitsuki finally managed to cut in, and his voice sounded strangely tight. "It's... it's okay, I really like it...

" "Aw, well," the blond said, oblivious to his friend getting emotional. "Tell me about that again when you see what I have in stock for next year..."

"That is a long stretch of time..." Sarada pointed out, sweat-dropping.

"Come on... at least let him blow out the candles before they go out, okay...?"

[End of Flashback]

Boruto sighed. "You do realize you raised the stakes too high, right? How am I even gonna compete with this on your next birthday? There should be a middle ground before you reach the peak, y'know?"

Obviously, there were no answers. But the blond didn't seem to be disheartened by it... his smile didn't falter.

"It's alright... Even if you can't reply to me, I know you can still hear. So listen closely," he said crisply, straightening himself a little. "When you come back, I want a full-fledged birthday party." The look in his eyes softened. "And I know you will come back... because the Mitsuki I know never gives up, and always keeps his promises." He bumped his fist against his friend's, just like how they did back then.

Better not strain Aunt Sakura's tolerance.

Just when he was about to walk out... an idea came to his mind. He brought a hand to his necklace and looked back at his friend, then determination filled his eyes. He took the necklace out and walked over to the bedside table on which he had left the wooden parrot.

"Uncle Neji..." he whispered as he put the necklace on it, his hand staying over it for a minute. "If you can hear me, please help my friend find his way back to us..."

He then turned and walked towards the door, and turned back to look at Mitsuki again. "It can't be his time just yet..."

...

The change in the blond was immediately noticed when he returned to his family's side. "Onii-chan, where is your necklace?" Himawari asked curiously.

In turn, Boruto gave her a big smile. "It's alright, Hima... I just lent it to someone who needs it more."

[nevilleconnolly-blog]

A Surgeon’s Journey in Medicine

Called to be a Surgeon, Not for Bread Alone: Neville K. Connolly, MA, MD. FRCS. FACS. FAAP

Dr. Neville Connolly’s desire to be a physician started early in his life when he decided he wanted to be able to spend his life helping people. When he started college at Kings College, Cambridge Univ. it was at the start of WW II in England. He felt that being a physician would allow him to be of help to many of the sick and wounded.  After graduating from Cambridge University, he was given a Rockefeller scholarship to go to Harvard Medical School in the USA. Neville went in a convoy of Merchant Marine ships, escorted by destroyers, to New York to attend Harvard. He arrived at Harvard just as the US was attacked at Pearl Harbor and entered the war. While attending Harvard he did training at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland and was assigned to assist some of the great names of Hopkins surgeons. Among them were Blaylock, who developed the “blue baby” operation and was one of the pioneers of cardiac surgery, though he did not confine himself to this field. Firor, who was always a perfect gentleman and a superb, thoughtful surgeon, Reinhoff, nicknamed “Wild Bill”, was fearless but an excellent technician. All this activity was a sharp contrast to the leisurely discussions and seeming inactivity of the Medical Service that he was exposed to in Boston. The results of surgery were swift, and whether successful or not, determinate, it depended on technical skill as well as thoughtful planning. The whole atmosphere was intoxicating for a budding physician. It was here that he changed his mind and decided to become a surgeon. He still liked children and saw the possibilities of combining both his interests by becoming a pediatric surgeon. After graduating from Harvard. he returned to England to get his medical degree from Cambridge. To do this, he had to attend courses at an English Hospital. Since St. Thomas’s Hospital ln London had awarded Neville a scholarship before he accepted the scholarship from Rockefeller to go to Harvard, they allowed him to join their courses. Neville covers in great detail his learning experiences and the differences between the English and American system of training. At the end of his training he passed his exams at Cambridge and got his medical degree. Shortly after that the war ended in Europe, Neville started work at St. Thomas’s as a house officer This was his first year as a doctor, 1945-46. At the end of his six-month appointment he had to apply for another six months as a House surgeon before he could do his National Service in the ARF. He was anxious to get started in the field of his special interest, Pediatric Surgery. Neville’s father knew Sir Stanford Cade, who was the senior Surgical Consultant to the RAF and became Vice President of the Royal College of Surgeons. He was a very influential advocate for the RAF and was able to organize a special burn service at the RAF Hospital. He offered to introduce Neville to the staff of Great Ormond Street Hospital for Sick Children, the premier hospital for children in England. Though Neville was offered another six months at St. Thomas’s He applied at Great Ormond Street and was awarded a House Surgeon appointment to work with Denis Browne who later became Sir Denis Brown, the Queen’s surgeon. Great Ormond Street is a remarkable Hospital. It is the first Hospital in England to care for children exclusively. Neville goes into great detail about how much he learned and how many skills he mastered while working with Denis Brown. After his training at Great Ormand Street Neville started to study for his exams to become a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons. During this time, he went into the Royal Air Force to serve his military obligation and was assigned as a surgeon to Ely Hospital, which was one of the main RAF hospitals that had one of the main burn units set up to treat burned pilots, many of them casualties from the battle of Britain. After finishing his service in the RAF, Neville went to St. Thomas’s Hospital as a supernumerary registrar, which was a position provided for ex-service men to get extra training. During that time, he passed his exams and became a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons. England had just started the National Health Service and Neville got a position at Norwich Hospital as a middle grade surgical Registrar. He was assigned to two of the four consultant surgeons, Mr. Birt and Mr. Ridley Thomas. This was in the early days of the National Health Service. He found that they were inundated with patients. Once the patient chose the surgeon they wanted, they always saw the same surgeon unless they asked to have a different one. This allowed excellent continuity of care. On a busy day, and most were, they could see as man as 50 patients in a session. At the onset of the National Health Service no one had any concept of the enormity of the health problems lurking in the background. As soon as people realized they could get surgery for their problems without paying for it, they came forward with conditions like hernias, varicose veins and hemorrhoids that they had tolerated for years. The work load was stupendous. After two years at Norwich Hospital Neville returned to Great Ormond Street as a senior Registrar to continue his Pediatric surgical training. After he finished his training at Great Ormond Street he realized that there were few jobs for pediatric surgeon positions in the National Health Service. It was a specialty that was just beginning to be recognized. Neville realized it would be some time before he would possibly be able to get an appointment as a Pediatric surgeon. When he had visited his wife’s family in Washington, DC, he had been introduced to Dr. John Lyons, who was the Senior surgeon at one of the hospitals there. Dr. Lyons had taken care of Agnes, Neville’s wife, when she was very sick as a girl. Dr. Lyon’s told Neville if he ever decided to immigrate to Washington, he would welcome him as his associate. Dr. Lyon’s reputation was outstanding, both as a surgeon and as a man utterly devoted to his patients. Neville saw the move as a chance to make his own career on his own merits rather than chancing it on a selection committee of the Health Service. He decided to make the move to start his private practice in Washington. Read the full article

[mcad-ae]

SLFND: Creating a Social Enterprise & The Ubuntu African Award of The Year

On December 1st, 2018, SLFND awarded the students from MCAD that worked with their organization with the Ubuntu African Award of The Year. AE faculty Arlene Birt, the main faculty lead, and her students working with SLFND building their websites, collateral, learning about permaculture, exploring strategic planning for the exportation of products from SL to the US, et al. were all presented with this award at SLFND’s annual award ceremony. 

Olivia Schroeder, one of the students who received the award, shared with us her experience working with SLFND! 

Before studying at Minneapolis College of Art and Design, I started my higher education career at Century College. From there I had the opportunity to study as the School of Art Schools in Chicago. In the Spring of 2017,  I transferred from School of Art Schools in Chicago to MCAD. I am now in my second year of the Entrepreneurial Studies Program and plan to minor in both Public and Engagement and  Art History. My creative practice is curation with an interest in gallery work in the future, but my greatest joy comes from working with other artists. Someday, I hope to own a library, but for now I am enjoying being a mom to my two rats, Pippy and Sissy, and focusing on perfecting my craft while expanding my horizons at MCAD.

This semester I am taking a selection of Entrepreneurial Studies and Art History courses. In my Aesthetics of Sustainability course with Arlene Birt, the other students and I are tasked with the opportunity to work with clients from the Minnesota community that have partnerships with our institution. The client I have the opportunity to work with again is the Sierra Leone Foundation for New Democracy (SLFND). Their organization builds preschools in Sierra Leone Africa with a focus on permaculture and nurturing their communities. I had originally met their leader, Hindolo, during my first semester at MCAD in the spring of 2017. During our work with him at this time we threw SLFND a gallery show, brought their website up-to-date, and cleaned up their logo. Now they are nearly two years further into their mission. Their school has been officially built along with their permaculture farm. They are now looking to initiate a form of income for their local citizens as a next-phase in their ultimate goal: to revitalize the people of Sierra Leone. I chose to work with SLFND again because I am inspired by their mission and want to be a part of their progress.

If you are unfamiliar with the country of Sierra Leone, know that they are in western Africa not far from Mali and Ghana. The people of Sierra Leone have recently dealt with a bloody civil war that they continue to feel deep trauma from. SLFND’s work is about educating the children of rural Sierra Leone and training all ranges of adults in skills of permaculture, cultivating positive interaction along the way.

In our group was Tyler McKeever, Sarah Hormanski, Charlene Vang, Amy Yang, and Olivia Schroeder. We began by conducting research into what types of products are being purchased right now, and what will be hot in the future. From an ethical and sustainable point of view, we are looking to cultivate an audience within Minneapolis peoples who shop at co-ops. Hindolo had given us a wide list of potential products, so we had room to explore.

We found that self-care products are an important niche in the market, and will continue to be so. My research in imports and exports unearthed that food and coffee can be hard to bring out of Sierra Leone and into the USA, but that soap, labeled by the FDA under Beauty and Cosmetics, could be less complicated to get here. One of our team members conducted real-time scouting of local co-ops and did find that handmade soaps are present there (as we had suspected).

Together we agreed that soap would be a feasible item for the people of rural Sierra Leone to produce. Further research into the at-home production of African Black Soap in particular proved the process to be simple enough while allowing for great variety and creativity beyond the lye/oil/water ingredient necessities. Ultimately we hope that the soap will become a positive source of training and income for the villagers connected to SLFND. The Sierra Leone economy is suffering from the aftermath of their civil war and years of government corruption. Making sales in other countries and bringing the profit back to Sierra Leone is a boost to their economy and this soap production aims to make a step toward that vein of progress.At the end of the semester we presented our social enterprise idea to SLFND along with an installation of how the soap could look like in-store. We provided extensive research on the personal hygiene and beauty market, as well as a marketing plan for the future of SLFND’s social enterprise. 

For more information about SLFND visit their website at: https://www.slfnd.org/about

Written By: Olivia Schroeder

Edited By: Amy M. Yang

[nisa7trainings]

IBM Maximo Traning

IBM Maximo Training is an enterprise asset management software developed by Project Software & Development Inc (PSDI) in 1985. IBM later purchased it in 2005. Hence, it got the name IBM Maximo asset management.

 IBM Maximo asset management is a workflow process management system and an asset management life cycle. It manages the asset operation and the business process. It can also be integrated with the existing applications.

 IBM Maximo asset management is a single software platform that helps to manage all of your asset types. It is an integrated database and productivity tool that is built on software-oriented architecture (SOA). It provides optimal planning, audit, control, and compliance capability to deliver a comprehensive view of all asset types and the work process that supports them, their locations and conditions. It also provides critical information about asset resources. It includes vital attributes and they are contributing and their logical and physical relationships to other resources.

 Features of IBM Maximo:

 ·         Custom, streamline and integrate - Can customize the software as per their customer's requirements. It can also combine it with the existing applications. It provides insights into all enterprises assets, their conditions and work processes for better planning and control.

·         Choose application server and database - It uses multiple software servers. Can install it on servers with the same computers or a different server. System requirements can depend on the operating system, site configuration and database platform.

·         Select standard or custom reports - IBM Maximo asset management tool is embedded with Business intelligence and reporting tools (BIRT). It has standard reports covering many applications and includes analysis, hierarchical, detail and drills down pieces. It can be customized to the BIRT reports or develop new accounts to suits the business needs.

        IBM Maximo asset management is highly customized for both the user interface. It can be adapted to suit the business requirement. Can make the changes to meet the specific business needs. The application designer uses a graphical user interface to configure applications without editing a line of code.

The new version of IBM Maximo, i.e., IBM Maximo asset management 7.6, helps an organization achieve greater efficiency in asset management through integration, installations, usability and business intelligence. It focuses on improving supply chain management by lowering the cost of ownership and implementation. As a result, It increases return on investment and enhances user integration.

 Course Content

IBM Maximo Asset Management Overview

·         Asset management

·         Framework overview

·         Business requirements overview

Core data setup and configuration

·         Data setup overview

·         Entering and configuring organizations and sites

·         Defining and organizing the classification hierarchy

·         Defining and entering locations and location hierarchies

·         Entering and registering labor and users

Item and asset planning and setup

·         Item and asset setup overview

·         Defining and setting up item and asset configurations

·         Entering assets

Inventory and purchasing

·         Inventory setup and usage

·         Purchasing process and setup

·         Requisitioning

·         Purchase orders

·         Receiving

·         Invoicing

  Work Management

·         Work management process and setup overview

·         Setting up job plan templates

·         Setting up scheduled or routine maintenance activities

·         Creating and generating tickets and work orders

·         Planning work

·         Scheduling work

·         Assigning and dispatching work

·         Work completion and reporting

 Some companies that used IBM Maximo asset management are Ashok Leyland, Momentive, Tech Mahindra, Kellogg's, Bestseller, TCS, PWC, NTT Data, HP, SABIC, TSPL, Lamprell, ESSAR, KPMG, ATOS, Neovia and many more.

 Nisa's IBM Maximo corporate training introduces you to the fundamental concepts and setup configuration of various business areas supported by Maximo. Lectures, demonstrations, labs covering multiple applications, processes and interrelationships are some of the activities included in IBM Maximo. Nisa's IBM Maximo online course training is designed to define how Maximo's modules and applications will help you reach your organizational goals. In addition, Maximo online course also discusses all aspects of Maximo's job management process such as identification, scheduling, assignment, planning and execution, completion, along with joint day-to-day procurement and materials management processes. 

 On completion of Nisa's IBM Maximo 7.6 training, you will be able to:

 ·         Develop workflows, escalations, and reports

·         Query and retrieve data

·         Describe the asset management life cycle

·         Learn about modifying error logging and system properties

·         Enter core data elements and data structures

·         Modify application server and its services

·         Describe options that are available for various applications

·         Describe and use the different Maximo applications and functions as they relate to business processes

 Nisa's IBM Maximo online training encourages students to make informed business strategies with design and planning their implementation. And we will also address the implementation and configuration aspects of the application as they pertain to integrations, documentation and business processes. On the other hand, you will also have the opportunity to work on two real-time projects under the supervision of professional trainers during training. As a result, it will help you build the skills required to operate, manage and dispose of the company's assets using IBM Maximo. In other words, students get a clear idea on which base to develop their product knowledge and skill set. On completion of this course, Maximo training certification is also provided. Students will also be given hands-on training using IBM Maximo software. Nisa's IBM Maximo training study material, long with recorded videos, will be provided for their reference. Enrol yourself and get placed in your dream company. 

 For More information about IBM Maximo, Online training, feel free to reach us.

Name: Albert

Email: albert@nisatrainings.com

 Ph No: +91-9398381825

[ecorptrainings]

Actuate Online Training FREE Live Demo at 8 PM IST on20th Dec Ecorptrainings Hyderabad India.

#Actuate is the only provider of full server support for BIRT (the Eclipse Foundation Business Intelligence and Reporting Tools project) which is fast becoming the most popular open source BI technology. Thus, Actuate 9 SP3 incorporates report types and many other powerful capabilities of the latest open-source release (BIRT 2.2), and increases the value of Actuate's Collaborative Reporting Architecture by allowing a broader set of reporting and deployment requirements, including smaller projects, to be addressed.

ABOUT ECORPTRAININGS:

Ecorp Trainings are one of the best institute providing quality level of training in E-learning process.This is instructor led online training.

We also provide corporate training , if group of people interested in same technology.

Contact us for detailed course content & register for a free demo.

We also provide support in client interviews , resume preparation , ticket resolving.

Contact us for custom designed training course by experts exclusively for yourself.

We provide training for almost all IT technologies i.e ; JAVA , DOTNET , SAP ,ORACLE , PEOPLESOFT ,HYPERION etc, contact us if you have any particular need.

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For content :click here

[poop4u]

The Best Exercise For a Dog is Using Its Nose

#Poop4U

Maggie, Skip, Jim and I are just back from a lovely hour-long walk this morning. All four of us were serenaded by the songs of a newly-arrived migrating birds, including Yellow and Palm Warblers.

                                             Bird photos from Wikipedia, such a great resource.

Jim and I gloried in the sights of these gorgeous birds, the French-blue sky after a day of rain, and baby leaf buds springing forth, full of life and promise and hope.

While we walked and looked, the dogs walked and sniffed. And sniffed and sniffed and sniffed and sniffed. Yes, they got some physical exercise–especially good for Skip now that he can take longer walks along with his physical therapy exercises. But mostly what they got was brain food, and I can’t think of anything more important for a domestic dog than that. There’s a lot going on between those adorable ears, and we neglect it at our peril. Using their noses engages a dog’s brain in vital ways, and can prevent a raft of behavioral problems.  Lots of interesting sniffing has been critical to keeping a just-turned, three-year old freight train of a Border Collie sane during his extreme physical restrictions. (Not to mention my sanity. Just saying.)

I was reminded of a post I wrote in 2016 titled Take Your Dog on a Sniff, and I thought today would be a good day to repeat it. There are so many people with new dogs out there, along with so many people with dogs/kids/jobs/life/pandemics taking up massive amounts of our time and energy.  The best way I know to tire out a dog out in a healthy way is not to get it physical exercise, but to give it mental exercise. Tricks are one way to do that, but letting a dog use its nose-brain connection is another. You can do that by playing scent games, or going on walks (especially in new places), and the pay off is huge. Skip and Maggie came back to chew on stuffed Kongs, and are now sleeping at my feet while I write.

Here’s the post from 2016, Take Your Dog on a Sniff:

Recently I watched someone walking his dog close to my office in Black Earth. Every ten feet or so the dog tried to stop to sniff the ground, and every time she did, the man at the other end of the leash pulled her forward so that he could continue walking. Ah, the canine-primate disconnect, which never fails to appear if we just pay attention. I wrote an entire book about this, The Other End of the Leash, and yet I’m still discovering ways in which we struggle to merge our ethological needs.

Primates love to walk, at least, terrestrial ones like humans do. Not only that, but we like to walk side-by-side with our friends, to face the world together and exchange the news of the day. While we’re walking we spend a lot of energy looking around—enjoying the view and noting what has changed in the neighborhood. Dogs, on the other hand, primarily want to learn about the environment through olfaction, a sense that we humans are better at than we think, but often pay little attention to. But how many of us insist that our dogs don’t stop to smell the roses, but walk or trot happily by our side? It is why, in Family Friendly Dog Training, I suggest that dogs define heeling as “walk slowly and ignore all interesting things”. This photo, by the way, is Susannah Charleson’s Search and Rescue dog Puzzle, with Susannah in the background. (If you haven’t read her books yet, you’re lucky–because now you get to. Don’t miss them, they’re great.)

Dog owners aren’t alone in ignoring the olfactory needs of animals. Birte Nielsen and colleagues published an important paper in December of 2015 titled “Olfaction: An Overlooked Sensory Modality in Applied Ethology and Animal Welfare.” They argue, compelling, that we do animals a disservice by not acknowledging the impact of odor on their behavior and wellbeing. These odors can both cause suffering or improve lives. Jenna Bueley, DVM, found that air captured from a busy, stress-filled urban veterinary clinic increased stress-related behavior in dogs, reported at the 2012 IFAAB conference. Clark and King, noted in Nielsen’s article, found that olfactory stimulation increased behavioral diversity and activity levels in captive black-footed cats. But note… the same study found that odors had little effect on the behavior of captive gorillas. Ah, that primate thing again.

You don’t need me to tell you how important smell is to a dog. None of us are surprised that years ago, Bradshaw and Lea found that the vast majority of a dog’s interaction with a new dog related to olfaction (1992). But I think we all, me included, need to be reminded of how much “going on a walk” can be defined by us as “walking while looking and perhaps talking,” while to a dog, “going on a walk” means moving from one interesting smell to another.

It is important, but not natural, for us to acknowledge the essential nature of the sense of smell. Examples of its importance abound: Wells and Hepper (2006) found that day-old pups preferred the scent of aniseed if their mother’s food had contained it while they were pregnant. Think about that—it means that dogs can learn to associate emotions, and thus behavior, with a particular smell even before they are born. (Breeders take note.) It also appears that the perception of scent is lateralized in the brain in dogs. Sinischalchi and colleagues (“Sniffing with the right nostril” 2011) found that dogs preferred to use the right nostril when sniffing new scents, and switched to the left when the scent became routine, or non-threatening. Dogs who smelled arousing stimuli (adrenalin, sweat) never switched to the left nostril. Since the right nostril is linked to the right hemisphere of the brain (it’s an exception to the usual switch, left eye to right brain for example—if that stopped you for a moment, it did me too…), this suggests that olfaction in a dog’s brain is lateralized, and that the sympathetic HPA axis (hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal, or “on alert!” axis) is primarily mediated by the right hemisphere in dogs.

[Addendum added in 2020: And now we now that a dog’s nose can sense heat. Who knows what else they can do with their noses!]

This all circles around to the title of the blog: Take your dog on a sniff. I’ve written before that dogs need autonomy to be truly happy. I’m arguing here that what they most need is the freedom to use their noses. That is easy for us who can walk our dogs off leash. But leashed dogs need owners willing to compromise—an invigorating primate walk with our dogs trotting alongside part of the time, and the rest includes the dog getting, finally, the freedom to go from scent to scent and all the stimulation and information that entails.

Full disclosure: I’ve been good for years about letting my dogs stop to sniff when we are walking on leash, but lest I sound smug, guess how many photos I have of my dogs sniffing something? Three. Only three. That’s compared to literally hundreds of photos of my dogs playing together or with toys. Ah, that primate thing again. (Happy to say I updated that this morning, in May 2020, when I took a lot of sniffing photos.)

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Skip is progressing by leaps and bounds, and we got a green light from UW physical therapist Courtney Arnoldy to give him a bit more freedom. Here she is working on weight loading Skip’s back right leg through a series of exercises that we replicate in the garage. (I watch on FaceTime, can’t go into the building. The photo was taken by assistant Haley, who was invaluable in keeping Skip focused while Courtney set up some of the exercises.)

Half of our walk this morning was with Skip on a long line rather than a short leash, so he got lots of time to trot rather than just walk fast. I’ve tried letting him off leash for a brief period of time and it’s pretty much what I thought it’d be: Two seconds of Skip standing still, and then exploding as if out of a rocket for twenty strides–the time it takes me to say Stand! and call him back to me. It’s just impossible to ease a young dog into getting a graduated amount of exercise, but I’m doing the best I can. Our next PT appt is next Monday, and I have hopes that his leg will be sound enough that I really can let him run for a few minutes without causing a set back.

Here are the dogs wearing out their brains while we listen to the birds.

  If you follow the blog you know I love to cook, and I’ve done even more of it since Jim and I are staying Safe at Home as much as we can. Saturday I made the dough for these cinammon date rolls, and Sunday morning I got up early to make up the rolls and let them rise a second time before baking. (Or, “proof” if you’re British, says the woman binge watching The Great British Baking Show over and over and over again) . They look pretty good in the photo for sure, but I have to say, they taste even better. Healthy? Uh, nope. I’m making amends by making a lovely chicken/asparagus dish tonight, but I just picked fresh rhubarb and I have this recipe for rhubarb cake that is out of this world . . .

    Friend and kick ass photographer Stephn Dahlgren came out to the farm last week to take some more photos. We haven’t seen most of them yet, but here’s one of Nellie, who, of course, managed to photo bomb what had been a great opportunity for a Trisha/Skip photo in lovely light. Nellie is highly displeased that twice a day I have to keep her out of the garage to do Skip’s physical therapy. She is making it clear by ripping the hell out of the wooded frame to the garage door, the message being clear: This is MY GARAGE. CAN YOU NOT READ THE SCENT MARKS AND VISUAL SIGNALS?

I hope you are hanging in there during this challenging time. As a dear niece said to me recently, “We’re all in the same storm but in different boats.” I hope your boat is keeping you afloat safely and without too much suffering.

Poop4U Blog via www.Poop4U.com Trisha, Khareem Sudlow

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Reflecting on My Writing

What changes in your personal writing style do you notice as you survey your course work? Be sure to comment on specific elements and forms.

As I survey my writing, I notice that there isn’t one specific thing that I have improved on - but rather, an overall tone of awareness. I feel as though I’m more aware of my writing and the structure of how to write. I proofread and edit all of my pieces to make them as good as possible. I acknowledge and apply criticism and revisions. I focus more on how my writing sounds, is constructed, and what went into writing that piece. Before this course, I had a haphazard way of writing; all my pieces were rough-drafts. I would purge out an hour of continuous writing, and submit that as my final, polished project. As I look back on my writing from before this course and even from the first unit, I notice inconsistent and incoherent sentences. Run-on sentences for describing things were my friend. I felt as though I needed to cram as much as I could into descriptions. My writing didn’t flow, and when read, it sounded awkward and forced. Through this course, I have definitely grown out of that habit. Consistency has been a big hurdle for me to leap over, but the skills learned in this course have helped me overcome that. 

How did the ‘Analysing and Acknowledging Authors’ assignments influence your writing and understanding of writing as an art, craft, and career?

I believe that the assignments in Unit 2, Act 4 definitely changed my perspective on how I saw writing. I had never thought of writing as an art, craft, or career - more like a conglomeration of all three. Through the BIRT debates we had as a class, the definite between the three were argued and defended. I do believe that some aspects of writing can be categorized as an art, craft, or career - but it has been shown that writing, no matter what, can be all three. For the Researching Authors assignment, we looked further into how an author of our choice uses writing as those three things. I found it incredibly interesting and changing. 

Of all the writing techniques you learned this year, which one did you use with the most success? Give specific examples of this technique in your writing.

I have two: writer’s block, and Logos/Pathos/Ethos.  From this course, I have learned how to effectively overcome writer’s block - a monster that almost ruined my writing career. Before taking Writer’s Craft, I was on a hiatus from writing -- in 2015, I was writing like mad, submitting essays and accepting 1st place for the Legion Remembrance Day contest, writing short stories with my friends, roleplaying almost every day. Then, one day, I gently fell off the train. I wrote on-and-off until about 2017, where I had virtually stopped writing altogether. I focused more on my art, sure, but there were no stories behind the characters I was creating. I was terrified of writer’s block, since I felt like it attacked every time I wanted to write. I had so many great ideas, I just couldn’t or didn’t have the motivation to execute them. When I was younger, I dreamed of becoming an author. Now, despite writing still being a great passion of mine, I can’t see that anymore. I’m still learning how to deal with writer’s block every day, but at least with Writer’s Craft, I have a much stronger plan. At the beginning of the semester, it would take me days to finish one assignment. Things started piling up, which made me more stressed, and took me longer to write - little did I know, there were simple and effective ways of overcoming this kind of block. Once I got back on track, and kept noted on the techniques of overcoming writer’s craft, I speed through writing and am proud of my productiveness.  -  I had heard of Pathos, Logos, and Ethos previously, but never had I elaborated on or used them before. I enjoyed writing persuasive essays in English class in the past, but none of my classes had discussed these literary devices - and to me, these devices are critical to making the perfect persuasive piece. Carrying on the thought of writing being an art, craft, and career, every persuasive piece should include emotional, logical, and believable aspects. Think of them like the senses - appealing to one is good, but it is better to cater to all the senses. It also helps the writer challenge themselves with if their opinion can be adapted into an emotional argument, a logical argument with evidence, and a believable argument with character. 

Pathos – The method of persuasion through emotion. Pathos is used when writers want to convince their reader to do or think something by invoking emotion (like fear or concern). In this monologue, it is inferred that if you do not choose life, you will “rot away at the end of it all” -- invoking a negative emotion.  

Logos – The method of persuasion through logic. Facts, statistics, or common sense is used to steer a reader to a conclusion. In this example, “choosing life” is the correct, smart thing to do.

Ethos – The method of persuasion through ethics. Ethos uses credibility and experience in an author to convince the reader. In Choose Life, Mark creates a reputation for himself that the reader can infer – he chooses not to choose life. From Logos, we learn that choosing life is the best thing to do and will make you successful. However, with Pathos, choosing life will lead to you eventually not being happy. So, to combat that all, Mark builds a credibility (whether it’s positive or negative is up to the reader) to “skip life” – and carelessly states that there’s no reason for his reasoning.

Did you find the collaborative writers’ workshops effective in improving your writing?  Why/why not? 

I appreciate the revision and critiques that come out of collaborative work. I have written with groups in the past (not revising each other's work, but creating stories off of each other's writing) and that was always fun. I like the idea of getting multiple people to send feedback, because while they may say you have a spelling error, you will receive different perspectives and emotional responses to that piece. For my personal narrative piece on movies, I received two responses - one saying they got a negative connotation and overall thought the piece was incoherent, while the other enjoyed the piece throughout. They both agreed that my introduction sentenced needed to be edited. I found this critique, and the others I had received through the course always helpful. I don’t believe there are any critiques that I haven’t applied to my work. 

Alyssa Grant: “I really liked the concept of your short story. The feedback I would give is that it seems like it just begins in the middle of things and there are some details included which aren't really explained. For example, I'd love a beginning to the story, in a flashback or something, that explains why the ship is sinking, why they can't climb out of the cabin, and why there is the sound of gunfire. The background info makes it so the reader can follow your line of thinking in an easier way. I do like the part where he seems to recognize his fate and accept it rather than fight it. It allows the story to end almost on a happy not even though he's just died.”

Of the pieces chosen for your final writing portfolio, which one gives you the most satisfaction?

While all the pieces chosen were satisfying to write, I think the editorial I wrote took the cake. It was gratifying to write a personal and “venting��� piece, albeit hyperbole, about a topic I’m passionate about. I kept structure and a planned layout to the piece, and didn’t stray too far out of the box. I enjoyed utilizing Logos, Pathos, and Ethos in my piece, in a creative way. I also appreciate the feedback I received on it. Since I am most akin to writing narrative creative fiction, this was a breath of fresh air and a new challenge for me as a writer. I may continue with creative nonfiction like this to broaden my learning. 

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What is Custom Visualization in Active Intelligence Visualization (AIV)?

Custom visualization in AIV allows users to create tailored data visualizations using HTML, CSS, and JavaScript. This feature enables embedding custom visual elements into dashboards, which can be dynamically populated with data from various sources or filters.

It offers flexibility to represent data in unique ways beyond standard visualization options, ensuring that users can fully customize how data is presented in their dashboards.

For more details, please refer to the official documentation: AIV Custom Visualization Guide.

For more information, visit the official AIVHUB website.

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Overview of Birt Report education

 BIRT (Business Intelligence and Reporting Tools) is an Open source era platform backed via the Eclipse Foundation that includes a visual report clothier and a runtime component for Java and Java EE environments.

These gear are used to create reviews, records visualizations, and charts that may be embedded in Web-based totally and rich consumer programs.

Information gleaned from embedded BI gear such asBIR Report can be used in both real-time decision making and to song and examine historical information or ongoing trends.

Examples of news that can be designed usingBIRT Report consist of lists, charts, crosstabs, paperwork and documents, and compound reviews with a couple of functions.

BIRT is a pinnacle-degree software challenge in the Eclipse Foundation, an unbiased no longer-for-income consortium of software program enterprise vendors and an open source network.

The project’s said goals are to deal with a huge range of reporting needs within an ordinary utility, ranging from operational or business enterprise reporting to multi-dimensional online analytical processing (OLAP).

Initially, the task has focused on and delivered capabilities that permit utility developers to effortlessly layout and integrate reviews into programs.

The direction objectives

 Report Introduction

The Anatomy of a Report

BIRT components

Architecture Diagram

Data Customization

Conditional formatting

Scripting

Java Event Coding

Project Management

Extensibility

Data Access

Chart Types

Key Features of BIRT Report Training

 Amazon RDS for facts storage/connectors to other databases

Free web-primarily based modifying tools

Utilizes BIRT software server architecture on the cloud

Supports both industrial and open supply BIRT

Saving erports in PowerPoint, Excel, PDF and Wor

Folder management

Document sharing

Secure information switch and get admission to

Benefits of BIRT Report Training

 Get a running begin to your improvement and deployment of BI packages

Present facts visually with pre-packaged consumer configurable dashboards

Build, replace and engage with records the usage of BIRT Interactive Viewer and BIRT Studio

BIRT Report Training Out line:

Program Name: BIRT Report Training course

Course Duration:  35 Hours

Mode: Online digital lessons and company

Timings: According to 1’s feasibility

System Access: may be furnished

Batch Type: Regular, weekends and speedy music

Trainees will get the smooth reproduction fabric.

Sessions may be conduct through WEBEX, GOTOMEETING OR SKYPE.

Basic Requirements: Good Internet Speed, Headset.

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How to Create a Report Widget in Active Intelligence Visualization (AIV)?

To create a Report Widget in AIV, follow these steps:

Log In:

Access your AIV account and navigate to your desired dashboard.

2. Add Widget

Click on “Add Widget” and select Report Widget from the available options.

3. Configure Data:

Choose your data source and define the metrics or KPIs you wish to display.

4. Customize Settings:

Adjust the layout, style, and filters to enhance user experience and customization.

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How do I install Active Intelligence Visualization on Windows?

To install Active Intelligence Visualization (AIV) on Windows, follow these steps:

Check Requirements: Ensure your system meets the following requirements: hardware (minimum 8 GB RAM 16+ GB recommended)15 GB disk space, and software (Java 8, PostgreSQL/MySQL/Oracle, Apache Tomcat 8.x).

Download AIV: To download the AIV installer, visit AIV Download. page

Choose Installation Method:

• With PostgreSQL: Run the installer, select PostgreSQL during setup, and follow prompts.

With Existing Database: Choose your existing database (MySQL/PostgreSQL/Oracle) during installation and enter database credentials.

4. Configure and Start: After installation, run the appropriate scripts to start the database and application server.

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How to Share a Dashboard in AIV?

Sharing a dashboard in AIV is simple and allows team collaboration. Follow these steps to share your dashboard:

Access the Dashboard: Log in to AIV and navigate to the dashboard you wish to share.

Click Share Option: Locate and click the "Share" button, typically found in the dashboard settings or toolbar.

Choose Sharing Method: Select how you want to share, such as via email or by generating a shareable link.

Set Permissions: Adjust access levels like view-only or edit permissions based on user roles.

Share the Dashboard: Send the link or invite others by entering their email addresses. For more details on creating and customizing dashboards in AIV, refer to our full guide View Full Guide Here.

For more information, visit the official AIVHUB website. If you need more help, feel free to contact at support@aivhub.com

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How to Create a Dashboard in AIV?

Creating a dashboard in AIV is a straightforward process that allows you to visualize and analyze data efficiently. Follow these steps to create a customized dashboard in AIV:

Steps to Create a Dashboard in AIV:

Log In: Access your AIV account using your credentials.

Navigate to Dashboards: From the main menu, go to the "Dashboard" section.

Create New Dashboard: Click on the “Create New Dashboard” button to start building a new dashboard.

Name Your Dashboard: Give your dashboard a meaningful and descriptive name that reflects its purpose.

Add Widgets: Click “Add Widget” and select from a variety of widget types (e.g., charts, graphs, tables) to display data insights.