#cole berlusconi
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Hi there, I'm Mara.
Full name: Mara Evangeline Gaia Gabris
Age: 24 (Would be 32)
Birthday: May 16th
Sexual orientation: Heterosexual
Familiar: Odysseus the Mustang
Personality:
Birth chart (big three): Taurus Sun, Gemini Moon, Aries Rising
MBTI: ESFP-A
Patron Arcana: The Star
Upright: Hope, Faith, Rejuvenation, Healing
Reversed: Hopelessness, Faithlessness, Despair, Despondence
Minor Arcana: Nine of Swords
Upright: Fear, Isolation, Breaking Point
Reversed: Recovery, Coping, Finding Hope
Likes: The color orange, watching the wind kick up dust devils in the desert, fine jewelry, braiding other people's hair, when people make her laugh, roasting marshmallows, flowers of all kinds, putting new horseshoes on her horses, riding in the bed of trucks, cow print, going out dancing, square-toe boots, getting drunk off three shots of Jameson, equating strength with beauty, smiling, barbecues, the month of May, when people compliment her, the way her skin looks when kissed by the sun, shopping at the farmer's market, painting her nails, experimenting in the kitchen, the way her key ring jangles on her hip when she walks, wearing cute clothes that make her feel feminine, brushing her locs, Cole teasing her when she can't say his last name right, pound cake, Summer, playing cards, doing her makeup in natural light, when Cole takes off her cowgirl boots for her, watching the sun rise when she's rounding up her cattle, sleeping with the window open, when people request personal deliveries from her farm, the sounds of the desert at night, riddles that she won't guess, when dogs chase cars, fishing, holding hands in public, giving gifts, feeding her chickens, showing off how well she can whistle, hugs, do it yourself renovations on the house, evening rides with the love of her life.
Dislikes: Washing dishes, blood blisters, using spurs on her animals, baked beans, when people expect more out of her than she feels like she can give, the end of summer, eating the same thing every day, taking animals to the slaughterhouse, when people frown at her, waking up before the rooster, unwanted touch, standing at the market all day selling things from the farm, people who cheat during games, rope burn on her hands, dust storms that ruin the crops, people calling her ditzy even though she knows she's not that smart, the feeling of someone leaving her behind, herself without her locs, hauling water from the river, when people tell her she's lost weight, when she has to get feisty for her voice to be heard, replacing her favorite jeans because her thighs chafe too much, when her family yells at her for making a mistake, convincing others she's soft and deserving of love, the feeling of regret.
Abilities: Mara is a very skilled cowgirl. She can ride horses very well and knows a lot about the upkeep and care of farm animals. She can lasso and whistle and tie a lot of knots. She's pretty handy, able to fix little things around her house and farm. She's very in tune with nature and has a natural sense of direction. Mara also likes to garden and has a green thumb which helps a lot when you grow up on a farm. Mara is also really good at cooking and baking.
Favourite food: Tater Tot Casserole with Cheese and Sour Cream and Bacon
Favourite drink: Sweet Tea with a slice of Orange
Favourite flower: Somraldic Poppy
Favourite place: Under a Somraldic Sycamore in the arms of her love
Magic: Mara is a Prairie Maiden, one of the native witches of Somrald. The magic can be either hereditary, obtained if you complete a special ritual, or you are ordained before you're born. Although she's not as devout as other witches in practice, she often prays and gives offerings at her altar for the Maiden of the Valley, the feminine spirit that watches over Somraldic people, specifically women. Her magic is emotional, providing peace and comfort to the people around her through her touch and her words. She also has a lot of empathy for others as well as animals due to this gift. Mara was also born as one of the Maiden's Messengers, a woman blessed by the Maiden of the Valley with the power to change form into that of an animal. Mara's animal spirit is a Red-Tailed Hawk.
Appearance:
Height: 5'11 or 180 cm
Weight: 217 lbs or 98 kg
Hair: Mara has long black goddess locs that she's been growing since she was a young girl. They're waist-length now and she loves to put charms and weave prairie flowers in them. She often does different styles with her locs, wearing a bandana on her head or tying them in ponytails under her cowgirl hat. In her last few years of life, she cut them, revealing shoulder-length dark bouncy curls.
Eyes: Mara has black eyes, like most people in Murik Valley. They're some of the biggest, sweetest eyes you'll ever see. She has long lashes and always lines her eyes with makeup before leaving the house. She's very expressive and sweet and you'll often find yourself softening under her gaze. One bat of her eyelashes and you'll give her anything she wants.
General description: Mara is tall and curvy. She's strong from all the physical labor she does. She carries her weight in her arms, stomach, hips and legs. Her hourglass shape is accompanied by the cute pudge of her stomach that can be seen when she wears the low-rise jeans she loves. Her face is sweet with round cheeks and a soft jaw. Her lips are quite full and she has dimples when she smiles.
Mara is a free spirit. She loves adventure and feeling alive. She loves experiencing new things and going to new places. She's family-oriented, as Valley folk tend to be, however, she's got a wanderlust that can never be satisfied. If she loves you, she loves hard and you'll know it. She's loyal and dutiful to the people she loves. She's quite responsible when it comes to work, but she loves horsing around and having fun. Mara can be a little forgetful, but if it's important, she'll get it done.
Fashion Sense: Mara is always wearing Western clothing, but she still likes looking nice. A good pair of body-hugging bootcut or flare jeans are her go-to, with a nice belt, no matter the occasion. If she's working she'll wear a henley or collared shirt to protect herself from the elements. If it's cold she'll wear a denim jacket with a fleece interior. She's also got chaps and a few vests she'll wear depending on her work day and the weather. If it's a day of leisure, she'll opt for those jeans paired with a fashion top or a low-cut shirt that shows off her full figure. She loves ribbed tops or henleys, but it's always a scoop neck. Mara never leaves the house without her boots. She's got several pairs, some simple for work, some snazzy for going out. She's always wearing gold or turquoise jewelry and never leaves home without a few prairie charms.
Mara also likes dressing up sometimes. She'll wear a dress with a plunging neckline and some decorative boots. It's very rare you'll see Mara in a pair of heels, but she loves how pretty they make her feel.
A brief look into her life:
Occupation: Mara works with her father on their farm. Her duties include cattle wrangling, milking the cows, feeding the chickens and pigs, slaughtering livestock, tending to their farmland, and a world of other things. There's a lot that goes into having a farm. She does most of the intensive labor with the help of whoever they can afford to employ since Myvern is not able to handle most of that labor due to his illness. Mara also dedicates a portion of her life to the Maiden of the Valley as one of her Messengers. Whatever duties the Maiden calls her to do, she will see in a dream, a vision, or a sudden compulsion.
Love Interest:
Cole Berlusconi
Family and friends:
Myvern Gabris, father
Eleni Gabris, mother
Persephone Gabris, little sister
Tiana Samaras, aunt
Clio Mallas, aunt
Pollyanna Evander, best friend
Nazir Circe, close friend
Olympia Mathison, Castor Bedlam, Jason Karras, friends and colleagues
Tomás, Matías, Marcos, and Emilio, acquaintances she met in Maeth
Isabella Ziergah, friend
Hercules Argo, husband
Bree Argo, daughter
Miscellaneous facts.
Mara is insanely strong. She can't quite tear an addressbook in half but she can make a rip.
Mara never saw herself settling down with a man in a traditional sense, but adventuring and traveling all over the world doing new things with the man she loves, and only after that settling down.
She's always wanted a house with a whole wall made of windows.
Mara's love languages are gift-giving and acts of service.
Mara has a few tattoos, most of which she's gotten in honor of the love of her life. The tattoos include a spaceship, an 8 ball, and an oak tree. Her others include a horseshoe on her wrist, a feather on her forearm, and a bull on her shoulder.
Mara is a lively and adventurous girl, but she's almost always been held back by her family.
Mara can shotgun a beer in record time and its one of her favorite party tricks
Mara can drive both a manual and an automatic transmission vehicle and she teaches her friends how to drive. She taught Cole how to both drive a car and ride a horse.
Mara struggled with her self-esteem as a child, in large part because of her family.
Mara has a younger sister who ran away when she was fifteen and Mara was sixteen. This affected Mara in a lot of ways. She hardly likes to talk about it.
Mara has a complicated relationship with her family, but nobody seems to really ever see her side of the story.
Mara meets Cole one summer when they're 18 years old. They fall in a love so deep and intense the relationship sustains long distance for three years, until Mara's family pressures her into marrying someone else to save their farm and livelihood.
She has never loved anyone more than she's loved Cole Berlusconi.
"When you're here with me, I like to think everything's gonna work out. I love you."
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Now Presenting: Cole Berlusconi, the fighter.
Full name: Cole Berlusconi.
Pronouns: He/Him.
Age: 31 years old.
Birthday: July 29th.
Sexual orientation: Heterosexual.
Personality.
Birth chart (big three): Leo sun, Aquarius moon, Virgo rising.
MBTI: ESTP-T.
Patron Arcana: The Chariot.
Upright: Willpower, determination, victory.
Reversed: Defeat, cowardice, giving up before you give it a go.
Minor Arcana: Seven of Wands.
Upright: Defensive, putting up barriers, protective of their position.
Reversed: Inability to hold your ground, not defending oneself.
Likes: Being the centre of attention, energetic conversations, getting drunk out of his mind, sci-fi and action-filled books as well as films (he goes often to Maeth cinema theatre), being bold and flirting with lots of girls, spending time with “his boys”, first dates, skinny dipping, drinking contests, getting called out for boasting, cliff jumping, warm weather so he can take his shirt off, when Galiere invites him over for dinner, tucking his tank shirts on his pants, Anshelinah’s smile.
Dislikes: People who play dirty and take the fun out of everything, waking up so early in the morning to go to work, people volunteering him for things he doesn’t have interest on, second dates, having to talk to his father at work, when a client changes their order at the last minute so he has to stay for a few hours more, fighting with the ones he loves (he only likes to do it when its strangers).
Abilities: An excellent dancer, his moves make all the ladies crazy. He also likes to carve little wooden figures and he’s a very skilled carpenter so he’s always helping his best friend with new projects he has in mind. He can cook, of course, but his specialty lies in bakery.
Favourite food: Asado on Sundays and homemade alfajores de maizena. Favourite drink: Schwarzbier.
Favourite place: The Black Ring, a place for clandestine fights.
Appearance.
Height: 6’0 or 183 cm.
Weight: 191 or 87 kg.
Hair: His hair could be defined as the deepest shade of brown, almost chocolate. He likes to keep it fairly short and a bit messy, only styling it with gel back for when he goes to The Black Ring to fight so it won’t fall on his eyes as it usually does.
Eyes: Those dark eyes hide a lot of secrets behind them, his eyelashes are short so they can’t completely conceal the fact that those orbs reflect some sense of brooding burden. His eyes will soften around the people he loves, letting you see a few eye wrinkles when he laughs.
General description: You can sense him coming from a mile away, his presence is always disruptive and imposing. He makes himself be known in every room he enters and that makes him really attractive, since his charm and charisma levels are out of this world. He will flirt with you until he’s got what he wanted from you and has a way of doing it that you will feel as if you are the most special person in Maeth. Careful, though. He’s very tricky. He’s covered in random tattoos all over his big, tanned and well-toned body.
Fashion sense: White tank tops are a must when you’re working on a lumber mill, so you can look messily good once your shift is over and all the stains in your shirt makes all the ladies want to wash it for you. Black, beige and brown cargo pants are really useful when you have to carry around a bunch of tools as well as combat boots. In more casual days, earth-color flannels are his biggest allies.
A brief look into his life.
Occupation: From 9 a.m to 5 p.m, every day except for Sundays, he goes to work at his family’s lumber mill. They’re the ones who provide all the necessary wood for personal commissions but they also have an agreement with Thomas Zieragh’s workshop to supply all the raw materials for their inventions.
Family and friends:
Thomas Zieragh, childhood best friend.
Marcos, Emilio and Matías, best friends.
Anshelinah Circe, on-and-off girlfriend.
Draigh Tolmach, close friend.
Salice Halloway, close friend (even though he wanted to be more than that at first).
Isabella and Ophie Zieragh, treats them as siblings.
Hector Berlusconi, father.
Analía de Berlusconi, mother (deceased).
Miscellaneous facts.
Sadly, his mother passed away a few years back right when he was about to turn 21 years old, so his birthday isn’t a joyful date for him. He also has a terrible relationship with his father so it gets truly lonely for someone who’s an only child.
He’s really good at billar so he spends most of his spare time at Draigh’s Tavern playing and drinking away his sorrows.
The Black Ring reached out to him first, extending an invitation to him to go fight for a little bit of extra cash that would help him indulge in his vices. They saw the potential in him and used him as they pleased.
Cole has a scar on his lip, he had to be stitched after receiving a bad punch at the face while fighting at the ring.
He’s actually a really sweet, thoughtful guy who longs for some peace in his life but he’s way too into his problems.
@wonderfulworldofmaeth
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Post-AGT Appearance 1254: RAI radio 2 June 13 Yesterday morning my agent would have notified me that Italian President Silvio Berlusconi had passed away. I would have told him to use the comment on file (having forgotten whether I had one on file. When he told me he had deleted all the files it would be the first hint that someone had compromised the list. Berlusconi would have joined the top 100 after I started getting popular in Italy. He would have peaked at 87th early this year and died at 88th. I would release the comment last evening. The first to quote me would be Italian radio show I Lunatici on RAI 2 radio. That airs from midnight to 4 am Italian time. Roberto Alduini would quote me.
Arduini: All'indomani della morte del nostro presidente Silvio Burlusconi le persone di tutto il mondo stanno facendo commenti. Uno di loro è l'intrattenitore americano Phillip Cole. C'è una scommessa in corso in tutto il mondo che Berlusconi o qualche altro personaggio famoso lo faccia male allo stomaco ogni volta che sente o legge il nome. Berlusconi potrebbe essere il nome misterioso della sua lista? Altri nella sua lista includono l'ex presidente Donald Trump, la star del basket Dennis Rodman e l'attore diventato killer Alec Baldwin. Abbiamo una risposta. Dice:
PBC: Rispettiamo le persone che pensavano che Silvio Berlusconi fosse l'ultima persona che faceva ammalare Phillip. Fortunatamente per Phillip, Berlusconi si è messo nei guai dopo che Phillip ha iniziato a sentirsi troppo male per guardare le notizie. Non è il cognome sulla lista.
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“Per tre anni ho tirato la carretta, ho mangiato pane e cicoria per consegnare a Romano Prodi un centrosinistra capace di vincere. Questa è la nostra realtà unitaria. Questa è stata la battaglia di anni. La Margherita è una forza al servizio di una forza più grande e se quel progetto unitario più grande esisterà , sarà soltanto se la Margherita sarà una forza vera”
(Francesco Rutelli, 19 maggio 2005)
Vedi caro Francesco, tu non sai che cosa è la cicoria altrimenti non ne parleresti come se fosse una cosa brutta mangiarla. Caro piacione, la cicoria è buona, sana e io rischio de annacce a rota, soprattutto se è quella di campo. Quindi tu che cazzo ne sai di cicoria? Che cazzo ne sai di schiscette e cicoria? Al massimo tu vivi tra gli aperitivi consumati con i tuoi amici palazzinari e i ristoranti dove una cacio e pepe te la fanno a 12 neuri. Sei esasperante e spero che tuo moglie agisca di conseguenza. Tiè, guarda che bella ciriola, primo strato di cicoria, secondo di melanzane grigliate, terzo di uovo sodo, quarto di cicoria.
“Berlusco’, ma perché cell’hai co mme? Ma io sto a lavorà per te! Mannaggia l’ingrato, ahò! Sò cinque anni che te portamo l’acqua cole recchie! Ma che ce voi pure ‘a scorza de limone? a Berlusco’! Me fa rabbia, ahò! Tutti a dì che in cinque anni nun avemo fatto niente. Ma in cinque anni de centrosinistra manco t’avemo toccato le televisioni. Nun te piaceva Prodi? Tre l’avemo mannato a l’estero, tac, trappolone, mannace ‘na cartolina da Bruxelles! Questi sò fatti… Ma perché sei così ‘ngrato? D’Alema la prima cosa che fa è annà a Mediaset a dì che è ‘na grande industria culturale e che te sei ‘n grande statista europeo, e pubblica tutti i libri co la Mondadori. Bossi faceva er drogato? Se lo semo pijati noi, te l’avemo disintossicato e te l’avemo ridato co la garanzia, ahò! Te dava fastidio Veronesi che nun piaceva ar Santo Padre? Te l’avemo isolato, nun se candida più: perché noi er Santo Padre l’anticipamo, nun ce deve manco telefonà . Berlusco’, ma che c’ho che nun te va? So troppo arto? Me sego le gambe! Ma che devo fa, Berlusco’? Tutti te volevamo bene, ma che voi de più, ahò! Sei n’ingrato! Sei ‘n padrone cattivo! Noi se semo fatti in quattro per te, Silvio, nun t’avemo mai chiesto li straordinari, manco li sabati e le domeniche, pè te, ahò! Pè fatte stà tranquillo sula barca. Gnente, ahò! A me me frega gnente, mo’ vado a Bruxelles. Ma me dispiace pè tanti omini onesti de l’Ulivo che hanno lavorato e lavorano pè te… Er Paese nun è de destra e manco de sinistra: er Paese è de Berlusconi! Io nun so chi vince ‘sto conflitto elettorale. Posso dì sortanto ‘na cosa: che, se vince Berlusco’… Berlusco’, ricordate de l’amici! Ricordate de chi t’ha voluto bbene!”
(Corrado Guzzanti interpreta Francesco Rutelli, “L’Ottavo Nano”, 2001)
Pliz vizit auar cauntri
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UNFOLLOW
Kaya Kozlova (inactividad)
Anya O’Donell (inactividad)
Joaquín Moreno (inactividad)
Deniska Kozlova (inactividad)
Alexei Nazarov (usó la cuenta para un pj de otro rp)
FCS LIBERADOS
Jessica Chastain
Jodie Comer
Pedro Pascal
Sydney Sweeney
Finn Cole
CUPOS LIBERADOS
Cupo 1 de la familia Kozlov
Cupo 3 de la familia O’Donell
Cupo 1 de la familia Moreno
Cupo 4 de la familia Kozlov
Cupo 3 de la familia Nazarov
RESERVAS VIGENTES
Cupo 1 de la familia Berlusconi / Ben Barnes
PERSONAJES
personajes femeninos 6 + 0 reservas = 6
personajes masculinos 7 + 1 reserva = 8
total de personajes = 14
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Media:
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30. Alex Ferguson
29. Mike Dean
28. Joe Kinnear
27. Silvio Berlusconi
26. Dennis Wise
25. Roman Abramovich
24. Kevin Muscat
23. Richard Scudamore
22. Graeme Souness
21. Andoni Goikoetxea
20. Paolo Di Canio
19. Ashley Cole
18. Diego Costa
17.Mike Ashley
16. Luis Suarez
15. Ken Bates
14. Joey Barton
13. Diego Maradona
12. Karl Oyston
11. Bernard Tapie
10. John Terry
9. Pete Winkelman
8. El Hadji Diouf
7. Luciano Moggi
6. Cristiano Ronaldo
5. Richard Keys
4. Michel Platini
3. Harald Schumacher
2. Jose Mourinho
1. Sepp Blatter
Consumers:
MSN
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Les nouveautés de la semaine en BSPO (03/06/19)
À la une : Les dynamiques de la Chine en Afrique et en Amérique latine : enjeux, défis et perspectives / Sophie Wintgens et Xavier Aurégan (dir.)
Cote de rangement : DS 779 .47 D 257491 / Domaine : Développement
« Peut-on comparer les pratiques de la Chine en Afrique et en Amérique latine ? Quels sont les points communs et les spécificités des présences chinoises dans ces deux régions du monde ? Comment les États, les élites et les populations perçoivent-ils ce nouvel acteur extrarégional ? Quels sont les défis à relever et les opportunités à saisir ? L’Afrique et l’Amérique latine sont-elles les laboratoires d’une mondialisation « à la chinoise » ?
En croisant l’analyse des dynamiques chinoises à l’œuvre dans ces deux aires géographiques, cette recherche offre un éclairage nouveau sur l’un des phénomènes structurels les plus significatifs des relations internationales : la projection internationale de la Chine et son impact sur les pays en développement. » - Quatrième de couverture
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Finance
Finance chrétienne : acteurs, principes et opérations / Antoine Cuny de la Verryère
Cote de rangement : BX 1950 C 257488
Cryptocurrencies and blockchains / Quinn DuPont
Cote de rangement : HG 1710 D 257496
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Communication
Récit et objectivation / sous la direction de Gilles Ferréol
Cote de rangement : P 302 R 257490
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Sciences politiques
Emmanuel Macron and the two years that changed of France / Alistair Cole
Cote de rangement : DC 435 C 257499
Yémen : écrire la guerre / sous la direction de Franck Mermier
Cote de rangement : DS 247 Y 257489
Rupture : the crisis of liberal democracy / Manuel Castells
Cote de rangement : JC 421 C 257498
Key thinkers of the radical right : behind the new threat to liberal democracy / edited by Mark Sedgwick
Cote de rangement : JC 573 K 257495
Le métier de diplomate / Raoul Delcorde
Cote de rangement : JZ 1405 D 257484
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Gestion
Offshore : exploring the worlds of global outsourcing / Jamie Peck
Cote de rangement : HD 2365 P 257503
Le temps de l'État-entreprise : Berlusconi, Trump, Macron / Pierre Musso
Cote de rangement : HD 3611 M 257486
Management des systèmes d'information et de la transformation digitale / Lise Arena
Cote de rangement : T 58 .6 A 257482
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Numérique
Digital objects, digital subjects : interdisciplinary perspectives on capitalism, labour and politics in the age of big data / edited by David Chandler and Christian Fuchs
Cote de rangement : HM 851 D 257502
The revolution that wasn't : how digital activism favors conservatives / Jen Schradie
Cote de rangement : HN 79 S 257500
Dans le cyberespace, personne ne vous entend crier / Gilles Fontaine
Cote de rangement : HV 6773 F 257487
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Écologie
La corne de vache et le microscope : le vin "nature", entre sciences, croyances et radicalités / Christelle Pineau
Cote de rangement : TP 548 .6 P 257492
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Arts
Twin Peaks : Mark Frost et David Lynch : à l'intérieur du rêve / Sarah Hatchuel
Cote de rangement : PN 1992 .77.T88 T 257485
Code-art-barres : l'art en code-barres / Jean-Paul Albinet
Cote de rangement : N 72 A 257483
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Économie
What is heterodox economics ? Conversations with leading economists / Andrew Mearman, Sebastian Berger and Danielle Guizzo
Cote de rangement : HB 75 M 257501
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Sociologie
The joy of missing out : the art of self-restraint in an age of excess / Svend Brinkmann
Cote de rangement : BJ 1533 B 257497
Simmel / Thomas Kemple
Cote de rangement : HM 479 .S55 K 257493
Qualitative longitudinal methods : researching implementation and change / Mary Lynne Derrington
Cote de rangement : LB 1028 D 257494
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Tous ces ouvrages sont exposés sur le présentoir des nouveautés de la BSPO. Ceux-ci pourront être empruntés à domicile à partir du 17 juin 2019.
#Développement#Finance#Communication#SciencesPolitiques#Gestion#Numérique#Ecologie#Arts#Economie#Sociologie
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Silvio Berlusconi: Out of cruise ship singer to billionaire
Despite sex scandals, sequential gaffes and legal battles, the flamboyant tycoon has made an astonishing return from political oblivion to head his centre-right Forza Italia (Go Italy) party, which included in a right-wing coalition is leading the race for Sunday’s vote, according to opinion polls.
‘Berlusconi has 12 or 13 lives, he is just like a cat squared,’ said former best Matteo Renzi, who’s himself trying to win the top spot on Sunday.
While Berlusconi has largely avoided the significant campaign rallies and only appeared alongside his coalition allies at the run-up to the vote, he is a continuous figure on tv, radio and in newspapers, a variety of which he owns through his Fininvest empire.
While Berlusconi has largely prevented the Major campaign rallies and only looked alongside his coalition allies in the run-up to the vote, He’s a continuous figure on tv, radio and in newspapers
The one time cruise ship crooner, who has served as prime minister three days and once possessed AC Milan football club, has had a very tumultuous love affair with Italian politics, clinching his first election victory in 1994.
Together with his oiled-back own hair and winning grin, he has ruled Italy for over nine years in total.
He became renowned across the world because of his buffoonish gaffes along with a colourful private life epitomised with his notorious ‘bunga bunga’ sex parties.
I’m like a good wine, with age, I only enhance, now I’m perfect,’ he tweeted lately.
Berlusconi was born in 1936 in Milan to a bank worker father and a housewife mom who always staunchly defended her son’s virtues.
The young Berlusconi was a born entertainer.
Berlusconi was born in 1936 in Milan to a bank worker father and a housewife mom who always staunchly defended her son’s virtues. Pictured: Berlusconi at 2013
A massive fan of Nat King Cole, he played double bass and amused club audiences with jokes during breaks from reading law.
He worked briefly for a cruise-ship singer prior to launching a profitable career in the booming construction industry then expanding to put up three national television stations and buy Italian football club AC Milan, he moved on to sell in 2017.
Berlusconi’s political success has been associated with his football glory. Nonetheless, it is also closely entwined with the ability of the broadcasting and publishing empire.
His first stint as prime minister lasted from 1994-1996. In 2001 he was elected again following a campaign which included sending a publication boasting of his own accomplishments to 15 million Italian houses.
He remained in power until 2006 – the greatest premiership at the background of post-war Italy – and as a divided left floundered, he had been voted back for a third period in 2008.
But his premiership finished in 2011 at a blaze of sex scandals and fears Italy was on the verge of a Greek-style fiscal implosion.
The twice-divorced Berlusconi was made out of parliament in 2013 following his conviction to corporate taxation fraud was upheld by Italy’s highest court.
His influence waned quickly after that.
In 2013 he was sentenced to seven years of paying for sex with an underage 17-year-old prostitute Karima El-Mahroug, called ‘Ruby the Heart Stealer’ (pictured)
In 2013 he was sentenced to seven years of paying for sex with an underage 17-year-old prostitute Karima El-Mahroug, called ‘Ruby the Heart Stealer’, also for abusing his powers to get her off theft fees, pretending she was the niece of then Egyptian president Hosni Mubarak.
The Ruby conviction was finally overturned by an appeal court. Not entirely off the hook however, Berlusconi currently faces trial over allegations he bought Ruby along with other women’s jumps with more than 10 million euros worth of presents including homes and vacations.
The former leader gained notoriety because of his off-colour jokes along with diplomatic gaffes, in 2013 likening German politician Martin Schulz to a Nazi, as well as describing US President Barack Obama as ‘suntanned’.
In a wiretap dialog leaked to the press, he also known as German Chancellor Angela Merkel ‘an un****capable lard-arse’.
The currently aging politician has also grappled with health issues in the past few years, undergoing open heart operation in 2016.
When asked about his ultimate successor however he responded: ‘It is not easy to find a genius, however, as I will live to be 120, I’ll find one’
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The Lion and the Gazelle
Anshelinah felt it coming on.
She'd grabbed a brown flannel, threw it over her pajamas, and found her clogs at her closet door. She didn't want to be by herself. And for some reason... a reason knew but didn't understand, she didn't fancy climbing in bed with her mom and dad tonight or toughing it out like she'd done countless times before... she wanted to be with him.
She climbed out of her second-story window, carefully scaling the wooden planks on the side of the house. If Tadeo Circe knew when he built this house that his daughter would be climbing in and out of this window, maybe he would've made it more difficult for her.
The night air was nipping, as was typical for late autumn in Maeth. The leaves on the trees were still falling, all of them just about red now. Some were lagging behind in their sunset color, some of them were already on their way to becoming beetle cover and the bed of forest ghosts.
Her steps on the vague road were the loudest thing she heard, the owls in the trees and crickets amongst the grasses nothing but an accompaniment symphony. The wind tossed her hair, pulling the curls over her face and obscuring her vision. Anshelinah pushed them back and looked around warily. The night had swallowed her and she walked here in its never-ending belly. There wasn't any light to guide her this far away from the heart of town. She was walking by her faith, not by her sight.
The moon stared down at her with a knowing look, while the stars all gossiped about her late-night lark. She just ignored them and kept on.
Shutting out the judgemental stares from the sky, Anshelinah felt alone, which wasn't always a bad thing. She enjoys quiet cathartic time on her own...just not tonight. She felt like she was tearing through the abyss to get to her makeshift hideaway until the storm blew over. There were better places, safer places, but she wanted this one.
She walked more briskly, pulling her brown plaid overshirt tightly across her chest. The wind cut through the small folds in the fabric and struck her bare stomach like knives.
The dirt road turned to a cobble one, and Anshelinah could finally hear the turning of the waterwheel. The river bubbled quietly and calmly as she walked along, but the water trying to escape the complex mechanism of the wheel fell over the sides and roared like lions.
She couldn't see hardly two meters in front of her, but she knew she was close to where she was heading. She'd listened to the turning wheel of the lumber mill many nights over the snoring of her wayward lover.
A few minutes later, Anshelinah knocked on the wooden door to the house and waited in the dark.
What greeted her is exactly what she expected.
"Anshi? What... You know how late it is?"
A shirtless man slathered in tattoos answered the door in a deep, gravelly voice. His brown hair was messy and his pants were twisted and hanging low on his hips, adhered to his body by the static of the fabric. The long elegant lines of his muscle were so carefully etched in his sandy marble skin. He rubbed his eyes and blinked the sleep away.
Anshelinah's black eyes bore into him.
"Can I sleep here?"
He opened the door a little wider, coming forward to grab her by the waist. His hard hand, scarred knuckles and calloused palms covered the curve of her body and brought her close.
She rubbed her hands over his ribs, feeling the texture of his skin, pulled taut over those rippling ridges of muscle. She kissed his chest.
"Get inside."
Anshelinah lets him take her, her mind slipping away already. She was just a vessel and he was the one in control. He presses a hand to her back, guiding her along the carpeted hallway until they got to his bedroom.
It was unkempt, some clothes on the floor, a couple of beer bottles on the nightstand. Anshelinah hardly noticed. She let the smell of him overwhelm her as she kicked off her shoes and left them anywhere.
"Sorry.. I had a long night.. I didn't know you were coming-"
Anshelinah shakes her head. She wondered if anyone else had been here in her stead. That tended to happen when she and her lover had disagreements.
"It's fine, Cole."
She crawled into bed, but Cole wasn't going to let her get away with this so easily. He needed to know why she was acting so strangely.
"Hey, what's this about? Are you alright?"
A heavy hand weighed on her narrow shoulder, clutching the soft, worn fabric of the flannel she was wearing. He used this leverage to turn her to face him. She flopped on the bed in a sitting position, her long legs bent at the knee. She took a slow scoot back, getting closer to the headboard and further away from him. Cole thought if someone walked in, it'd be easy for them to assume she was apprehensive toward his touch, maybe even apathetic towards it. He knew that wasn't true.
Even so, her dark eyes were nearly blank. The lamplight reflecting in the dark water of her eyes was the only indication that somebody was home. Cole had seen this look. He'd never seen it on anyone but her.
"Yeah... yeah I'm fine."
The look in her eyes was one nobody understood... nobody alive anyway. She went places that not even she knew about. She was teetering on the edge of one of these places, but that wasn't something she wanted to bring up to Cole. She didn't come for that anyway.
She came because she couldn't stand the fight they'd been in for the days prior. Something about her spending too much time alone in her studio and Cole having the best intentions of trying to get her to get out and have some fun. Anshelinah recognized that she said some hurtful things to someone just trying to help. She wasn't in a good place at the time, still far from that good place now... It ate at her in those days since, when she avoided him on purpose. She wanted to fix it now. Like they always did.
Whenever they had a fight, she'd always find this place with Cole...
And they'd make it good.
"Anshelinah..."
Cole rubbed the back of his neck. Confused wasn't even the word.
"I've got work in the morning... you wouldn't come knocking on my door if you didn't need something. Just tell me what's going on."
His voice came out in exasperated grumbles. It's not something that would sound good on the receiving end. He took a deep breath and thought of his friend's advice. Your words say what you mean, your tone says how you feel... And your tone talks a hell of a lot louder.
Cole thought he should take it from him, as he'd been with the same girl for years. The girl Cole had found himself coveting at a time or two.
"I'm here... You know you can always come to me, Anshi."
Cole was surprised at how she softened. Those few seconds of contemplation, the whole "thinking before speaking" thing that Cole hardly had any patience for, was working like a charm. He couldn't help but think it saved them from another bout of fighting words.
Anshelinah reached out and grabbed at Cole, and he went into her arms right away. He sat on the bed, holding her in a sweet embrace. Cole lays a heavy hand on her curls, sorting through them as she buried her face into his lap. She wasn't crying, and that was normal. Cole had never known Anshelinah Circe as one to cry.
Her hands skimmed over his skin, sending goosebumps up his forearms and chills down his spine. Her touches were seeking something. Cole had touched enough to know that.
"Talk to me," he said.
Anshi closed her eyes against him, breathing in the scent of his pants. Cole's smell did something to her brain chemistry, it was almost animal. When she smelled his brutish musk, she just wanted to fix everything wrong that had ever happened between them. If she knew Cole even half as well as she thought she did, there was a foolproof way to get him to bite on a temporary olive branch. Not that she wanted it to be temporary, but she was being real with herself.
Things between them never stay good for long.
"I'm sorry... for last week. It was eating me... I want to feel close to you again... Make me feel that."
Anshelinah had said a few magic words.
Cole felt a switch in his head flip. A surge of desire began coursing through his body like an electric current. He knew what was happening, he'd grown that self-aware, but he wasn't quite powerful enough to resist. Or maybe he was. He never tried to.
He let a noise rise in the back of his throat, a sigh as he slid his hand under her overshirt, against the curve of her bare back. He pulled Anshelinah on top of him, center over his pelvis. His hands brought her thighs around him as if on instinct. Maybe it wasn't instinct... maybe it was more muscle memory.
They were now face to face, Anshelinah seated firmly atop him. She looked down into his face, it was almost smug. She'd loved and hated that smug look, and she couldn't decide which it was now. But she needed it, nonetheless.
"Is this close enough?" He asked her.
She shook her head, letting her droopy eyes lid. She dared herself closer, closer until his bull's breath swathed her face and her rabbit heart shook the air between them. She was in his snare already, and she was the one who put herself there.
"No- No..."
Cole's hands intentionally smoothed up her back, his callouses teasing rough marks along Anshelinah's soft skin.
"I'm getting a feeling you didn't come all the way to my house at two in the morning just to cuddle..."
He was almost teasing her, he had to be. The way his voice got low and affectionate when he chastised her. He cradled her close and she felt him grow stiff between her.
"Would I be correct?"
Anshelinah nodded in subtle agreement. Maybe she did want that too, for she loved the way Cole held her... but she had another motive.
He grabbed her chin, rubbing it softly with his thumb.
"Look at me."
Anshelinah did as she was told.
"Will you tell me what you really want? Use your words."
The way Cole dumbed this down for her, Anshelinah realized how much of her brain she left at the door. She wasn't particularly functional anymore, but that's okay. Her plan had already been set in motion.
"Mh... You know I don't like begging," she whispered.
Cole watched those full lips stick and pull when she talked. He bit his own in apprehension. He pictured those lips in all types of shapes and expressions, doing all types of things. Sometimes, when he had other romps, he'd find himself thinking of these instead. They were just so good.
Cole shrugged.
"Then don't. Just be a big girl and tell me what you came for... I promise I won't hold it against you."
Oh, this man worked her nerves.
"I want you to make love to me, alright?"
Cole breathed the air that came out of her lips like it was hit of something strong and good. It made him drunk. His next words tumbled out of his mouth like honeyed syrup, deep and dark and dangerous.
"Hm... If I recall correctly you told me the last time it was 'definitely the last time'... but here... you... are. I can't deny you or me the pleasure, can I?"
He let his hand drag down her throat, his rough fingertips indecisive as whether to make lines on her face, or move the wild curls from in front of those sappy eyes of hers.
"Cole..."
Her whisper was so wet. It made Cole ache. He murmured on the skin of her face, making a path to her mouth.
"I'll do whatever you want if you kiss me first..."
His lips were so close it hurt, but he wouldn't close the space. It didn't matter how much he wanted to. She had to tell him she wanted him. She had to want him first.
Anshelinah surveyed Cole's face. She cupped it in her hands gently, looking at his every feature. His chiseled cheeks, his dark eyes that seemed to hold every forbidden secret she'd ever wondered about. His crooked nose, broken once in a fight. His lips. His pink lips. She'd seen them busted and bloody and red. She had seen them with stitches, and she'd seen them after. She'd seen the scar that remained. He had such a rough and rugged exterior.
And she hated to love it.
She leaned in closer, letting their noses brush against one another. The tension was not between them, but around them, enclosing the odd, polarized pair in a world of their own. A glow of anticipation made a halo around Anshelinah's face. Cole soaked it up like sunlight.
"Come on, Cole... Come on...."
The way Anshelinah coaxed the hunger out of Cole was lawless. She was the object of his fantasies. Cole doesn't admit that anywhere but in bedrooms with her.
"You want me, Anshi?"
Their lips grazed each other twice. Cole could taste her.
"Yeah, I want you."
Their lips brushed twice more.
"How bad, baby?"
Cole's grip got tighter.
"So bad."
Anshelinah's body got softer.
"Then show me?"
"Okay."
Anshelinah shattered the magnetic field between them by crashing their lips together. Cole pressed their hips together right away, not pausing for reason or cause. The noise that escaped Anshelinah awakened something carnal in Cole. He was in this place of obsessive greed over Anshelinah that he could not control, nor wanted to. It only grew more intense now that she'd opened the gateway.
Her hands slid down his body, nails scraping along his skin. The pressure of her body on top of his was intoxicating. Cole had every intention of being buried beneath her tonight in every way imaginable. When he'd gotten his fill, he'd claw his way back up and take her body in his hands like the soil of the earth, indulging himself by spreading it all over his. Cole thought about this as he stripped Anshelinah bare. Her sighs and moans, muffled by the biting of her lips, made him see the light of god.
He admired her nude body, every place he'd come to subdue before. He left handprints and marks all over this body, as he's done before. Her body called to Cole and Cole loved the way he could answer. He loved the way she only wanted his answer.
"Fuck... Anshelinah..."
He was breathless now, gripping the bedsheets in a tight fist. She'd submerged him in something he'd like to believe was love. He was about to fill her with the same thing.
"Cole- Cole... Hold me.. hold me tighter, please."
Cole couldn't deny her pleas. He gathered her melting body in his arms as he dove into her again and again.
"Cole.. I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry.."
Her apologies came in panting huffs that kissed Cole's sweaty neck. Her sweet cries hung in the air like a song.
"Hey.. it's okay.. I'm here now, alright? I'm here.. We're fine.."
The passion and intensity of their lovemaking was an anomaly in both their lives. Cole couldn't count another partner that made him feel this way. Why did it have to come from anger and regret, the love that they made in this bed?
"I want you, Cole. Te quiero.. Cole-"
Her voice ascended until it was nothing more than the chimes of an angel. Cole felt her squeeze him so tight like she wasn't ever going to let go. He squeezed her too, taking care that the ripe fruit of her body and what came from it were worshipped in holy sanction.
He couldn't hold any longer. Anshelinah's sweet caress wouldn't let him. He filled her until she was brimming, murmuring the words right into her ear.
"Te quiero... te quiero...."
When he collapsed on top of her, Cole allowed her yearning to soak into his psyche like the scent of prey's blood. It was satisfying, it was completing. He was reminded of that every time he tasted of it. He always thirsted for it and it made him blind with want. Blind enough to see past any bickering or squabble. Anshelinah knew that all along. She, a gazelle, walked into the lion's den knowing how easily this lion would be enticed. How easily the lion would take the bait.
Except that the bait was her.
And in this grand analogy, the gazelle had a certain fetish about being devoured alive.
@themaethpost
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Getting Acquainted With: Anshelinah Circe
Full name: Anshelinah Maia Aurelie Circe
Age: 25
Birthday: February 29th
Sexual orientation: Asexual, Biromantic (Feminine Leaning)
Familiar: Honey the Lop-Eared Rabbit
Personality:
Birth chart (big three): Pisces Sun, Cancer Moon, Aquarius Rising
MBTI: ISFP-A
Patron Arcana: The World
Upright: Completion, Fulfillment, Sense of Belonging, Wholeness
Reversed: Lack of Closure, Emptiness, Incompletion
Minor Arcana: Five of Cups
Upright: Loss, Grief, Self-Pity
Reversed: Finding Peace, Acceptance, Moving On
Likes: brushing horses, the sound of roosters crowing in the morning, the color palette of the desert, the way mud feels between her toes, abstract artwork, finger painting, keeping succulents and cactus plants in her room and studio, letting river water wash over her skin, the slickness of wet clay, dew on the grass, sunsets that paint the sky seven different colors, sitting shoulder to shoulder at the bar with her friends, the way "Berlusconi" rolls off the tongue, vanilla ice cream, the sensation of picking off a scab, buttermilk baths, group hugs from her family and friends, wearing a lot of bracelets, when kids at the Art Academy ask her questions, dancing Cumbia with Isabella and Sisi, linen sheets, deep talks in the art studio with Ophie, building birdhouses with her father, plum jam, when Cole traces her bare back in the morning, lukewarm showers, people thinking she's tough, helping her family with things around the house, when paint and clay get on her clothes, curling up in her parents' arms at the end of the day, the taste of honey, sitting by the Vivarium fountain, farmer's markets, the soft feeling of her rabbit's fur, stargazing in the desert, hiking, cathartic time alone, the ocean
Dislikes: small spaces, salt in her rice, bug bites, constricting or large amounts of clothing, getting sick, people who feel entitled to her time, hospitals and mortuaries, moving someone's things out of a home or house, pumpernickel bread, people who disregard or disrespect nature, empty rooms, greasy hair, leaving the stems of a bouquet uncut, unflavored beer, persistent men, talking casually about lost loved ones, strangers who touch her, feeling sleepy when she's trying to stay awake, when her dad goes on long trips without her, clients who complain that she overcharges for her work, feeling like she doesn't have enough time, limes, arguing with people she loves, overwhelming environments, having to choose her battles, when her friends don't reach out for a while, the taste of clear liquors, when her clothes stick to her body in the summer, radishes, a stuffy studio, trashing an art piece and having to start again
Abilities: Anshelinah loves art and she's taught herself a lot of what she knows. She leans towards creating pottery and crafty sculptures, however, she also likes to paint and make collages using flowers and newspaper. With her Somraldic heritage, she's been taught how to ride horses and tend to a garden. She speaks a creole or hybrid language of Somraldic and Maethisse with her family, and she speaks Maethisse with her friends. She can also read Somraldic Rune and write with various calligraphy pens. Anshelinah loves to cook different foods, especially ones that hail from Murik Valley, and often prefers to make these recipes over Maethisse food.
Favourite food: Grilled Cheese Sandwiches with Bacon and Sour Cream (With a cup of Chicken Noodle Soup on the side)
Favourite drink: Iced Cafe con Leche with Cinnamon
Favourite flower: Gerbera Daisy, Magnolia
Magic: Anshelinah has a blessing that applies to all of the firstborn daughters of her father's Somraldic family. The blessing grants uncanny luck, seeming to always watch over her and guide her decisions, never allowing terrible trouble to befall her, and is called Aurelie's blessing.
Appearance:
Height: 5'10 or 178 cm.
Weight: 161 lbs or 73 kg
Hair: Anshelina has dusty brown hair that falls in curls and coils. Her hair is often not uniform on its own and requires a lot of effort on the side of styling. She loves her hair texture, a general mix of her father's coarse locs and her mother's fine waves. She often keeps her hair short, a bit above shoulder length, and likes to keep it back in a half bun or ponytail, which is her signature style when working on her artwork. In the summer, her hair lightens easily, adopting light brown streaks. She sometimes will braid her hair into two braids on either side of her head with a middle part and fluffy curls in the front as bangs.
Eyes: Anshelinah has her father's eyes. They're down-turned, and appear droopy and sultry. Despite her hair being lightly colored, her long lashes are a deeper brown than the rest of her hair. Her lashes are interesting, as she has a few white lashes on her left eye. Her eyes are so deep brown, they're nearly black, as is the dominant trait of the people of Murik Valley. She uses kohl eyeliner as one of the only parts of her daily beauty routine, making Anshelinah's eyes a seductive centerpiece to her face.
General description: Anshelinah could be compared to a doe. Her skin tone is a beautiful dark honey, lighter in the winter, while deeper in the summer. Her shoulders and hips are about even in their narrow width, her waist is a complimentary measurement. Her whole body can be considered lithe. Just because she is slim doesn't mean she is delicate. Anshelinah has strong arms with light muscle definition in her biceps and triceps from carrying supplies and her everyday activities. Her legs are toned as she does a lot of walking, running, and swimming. Anshelinah has a soft stomach, with most of the weight gathering in the lower abdomen. The shadows of her ribs can be seen in her torso. Her breasts are a modest size, and her chest is adorned with various spots and small moles. Anshelinah's nose is quite straight like her mother's and her lips are full like her father's. Her top lip is equally full and prominent compared to her bottom one, and she has a soft, barely there, cupid's bow. Her brows are fluffy and full, normally combed upward. They're set in a serious line when Anshelinah's face is at rest.
As a person, there are many different facets to Anshelinah's personality. To strangers, she's quiet and demure, even a little standoffish and aloof. She's not eager to take part in frivolous conversations with people she doesn't know or particularly like. That being said, however, she is always courteous until given a reason not to be. To her family, she is loving, compassionate, and energetic. She can let loose around her family without the worry of being judged or criticized. To her friends, she can be confident, adventurous, and fun. She loves to participate in group activities with the people close to her, whether that be a grand escapade or a quiet evening by a bonfire. She's helpful, kind, and patient, once you're acquainted with her, making her a great mentor and teacher. Despite what strangers think.
Fashion Sense: Anshelinah has a practical style. She often wears a pair of baggy pants that hang off her waist and a smaller shirt on top for shape. She likes to wear things that bare her midriff and arms like tank tops, crop tops, baby tees, and tube tops. She likes denim overalls and coveralls that have the jacket hanging by her hips. They're functional for painting, working in the garden, and tending to animals, so Anshelinah likes the versatility of these clothes. She mostly prefers a clog or sandal, with simple leather bands and brass buckles. In the winter, she likes to wear loose-fitting denim or trousers with a high waist, with a slim-fitting long sleeve on top. She likes sweaters, but she avoids layering as it's uncomfortable for her.
Anshelinah has a collection of western wear, as is typical dress in Murik Valley. She likes to incorporate these pieces into her style for comfort as well as the cultural significance it has to her. She has a few pairs of boots of various heights in neutral colors. Her closet also dons denim shorts, bootcut jeans, flannels, and linen western dresses. She wears these clothes often in the summers and when she returns to her father's country to visit her family.
Although Anshelinah's style is practical, that won't hold her back from wearing things she thinks are beautiful. She does like to get dressed up in something slim fitting when she goes out on a date or with her friends. She likes short dresses with long sleeves, or long dresses that hug close to the form. She's not extremely picky or uniform with these outfits. If she happens to be in the mood for it, she will wear it.
A brief look into her life:
Occupation: Anshelinah works as an artist. She gets commissions from residents of Maeth and eventually even beyond the country. Before her talent is recognized and her hard work pays off, she worked at one of Maeth's restaurants as a waitress. During her years at Maeth's Art Academy, she mentors students there and offers classes and lessons in her free time. Once she graduates, she becomes a student teacher at the Art Academy.
Love Interest:
Cole Berlusconi
Family and friends:
Thaddeus (Tadeo) Circe, father
Claudia Vasquez Circe, mother
Nazir Circe, older brother
Hera Circe, grandmother
Estefana Cortes, intimate friend and girlfriend (deceased)
Ophie Zieragh, intimate friend and junior
Isabella Zieragh, close friend
Salice Halloway, close friend
Matias, close friend
Emilio Taylor; Marcos; Thomas Zieragh, friends
Miscellaneous facts.
Anshelinah's Maethisse is very stylized, as she's used to speaking in the creole language created by her bicultural family. She was often scrutinized by her teachers for her improper way of speaking.
Anshelinah is very self-assured. She's been loved by her family and has had a confident way of thinking for as long as she can remember.
Anshelinah isn't afraid to make mistakes.
Anshelinah has a septum piercing and a soft blush birthmark on her stomach, resembling a port wine stain.
Anshelinah is very particular with dating. Because of that, a lot of the men her age deem her intimidating, rude, or even demanding.
Anshelinah goes to Murik Valley almost every summer with her family, as her father thinks it's very important to keep her connected to her heritage and family.
Anshelinah has had to work very hard to become an artist, as she was never naturally gifted.
Most of the pieces Anshelinah creates have practical uses, like bowls, cups, and dishes.
Anshelinah legally added her late girlfriend's name to hers so she could "live along with me until the end". Her full legal name is Anshelinah Maia Aurelie Estefana Circe.
Anshelinah spends long periods of time doing absolutely nothing, which was worrying to her family and friends. She will lie in bed or pick a place outside to sit or lay still. Estefana described it as "communing with the museful spirits".
Anshelinah has only one tattoo: A Somraldic Rune on her thigh. Nobody in Maeth knows what it means.
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📖 Stories of Maeth.
The Lion and the Gazelle
Anshelinah felt it coming on.
She'd grabbed a brown flannel, threw it over her pajamas, and found her clogs at her closet door. She didn't want to be by herself. And for some reason... a reason knew but didn't understand, she didn't fancy climbing in bed with her mom and dad tonight or toughing it out like she'd done countless times before... she wanted to be with him.
She climbed out of her second-story window, carefully scaling the wooden planks on the side of the house. If Tadeo Circe knew when he built this house that his daughter would be climbing in and out of this window, maybe he would've made it more difficult for her.
The night air was nipping, as was typical for late autumn in Maeth. The leaves on the trees were still falling, all of them just about red now. Some were lagging behind in their sunset color, some of them were already on their way to becoming beetle cover and the bed of forest ghosts.
Her steps on the vague road were the loudest thing she heard, the owls in the trees and crickets amongst the grasses nothing but an accompaniment symphony. The wind tossed her hair, pulling the curls over her face and obscuring her vision. Anshelinah pushed them back and looked around warily. The night had swallowed her and she walked here in its never-ending belly. There wasn't any light to guide her this far away from the heart of town. She was walking by her faith, not by her sight.
The moon stared down at her with a knowing look, while the stars all gossiped about her late-night lark. She just ignored them and kept on.
Shutting out the judgemental stares from the sky, Anshelinah felt alone, which wasn't always a bad thing. She enjoys quiet cathartic time on her own...just not tonight. She felt like she was tearing through the abyss to get to her makeshift hideaway until the storm blew over. There were better places, safer places, but she wanted this one.
She walked more briskly, pulling her brown plaid overshirt tightly across her chest. The wind cut through the small folds in the fabric and struck her bare stomach like knives.
The dirt road turned to a cobble one, and Anshelinah could finally hear the turning of the waterwheel. The river bubbled quietly and calmly as she walked along, but the water trying to escape the complex mechanism of the wheel fell over the sides and roared like lions.
She couldn't see hardly two meters in front of her, but she knew she was close to where she was heading. She'd listened to the turning wheel of the lumber mill many nights over the snoring of her wayward lover.
A few minutes later, Anshelinah knocked on the wooden door to the house and waited in the dark.
What greeted her is exactly what she expected.
"Anshi? What... You know how late it is?"
A shirtless man slathered in tattoos answered the door in a deep, gravelly voice. His brown hair was messy and his pants were twisted and hanging low on his hips, adhered to his body by the static of the fabric. The long elegant lines of his muscle were so carefully etched in his sandy marble skin. He rubbed his eyes and blinked the sleep away.
Anshelinah's black eyes bore into him.
"Can I sleep here?"
He opened the door a little wider, coming forward to grab her by the waist. His hard hand, scarred knuckles and calloused palms covered the curve of her body and brought her close.
She rubbed her hands over his ribs, feeling the texture of his skin, pulled taut over those rippling ridges of muscle. She kissed his chest.
"Get inside."
Anshelinah lets him take her, her mind slipping away already. She was just a vessel and he was the one in control. He presses a hand to her back, guiding her along the carpeted hallway until they got to his bedroom.
It was unkempt, some clothes on the floor, a couple of beer bottles on the nightstand. Anshelinah hardly noticed. She let the smell of him overwhelm her as she kicked off her shoes and left them anywhere.
"Sorry.. I had a long night.. I didn't know you were coming-"
Anshelinah shakes her head. She wondered if anyone else had been here in her stead. That tended to happen when she and her lover had disagreements.
"It's fine, Cole."
She crawled into bed, but Cole wasn't going to let her get away with this so easily. He needed to know why she was acting so strangely.
"Hey, what's this about? Are you alright?"
A heavy hand weighed on her narrow shoulder, clutching the soft, worn fabric of the flannel she was wearing. He used this leverage to turn her to face him. She flopped on the bed in a sitting position, her long legs bent at the knee. She took a slow scoot back, getting closer to the headboard and further away from him. Cole thought if someone walked in, it'd be easy for them to assume she was apprehensive toward his touch, maybe even apathetic towards it. He knew that wasn't true.
Even so, her dark eyes were nearly blank. The lamplight reflecting in the dark water of her eyes was the only indication that somebody was home. Cole had seen this look. He'd never seen it on anyone but her.
"Yeah... yeah I'm fine."
The look in her eyes was one nobody understood... nobody alive anyway. She went places that not even she knew about. She was teetering on the edge of one of these places, but that wasn't something she wanted to bring up to Cole. She didn't come for that anyway.
She came because she couldn't stand the fight they'd been in for the days prior. Something about her spending too much time alone in her studio and Cole having the best intentions of trying to get her to get out and have some fun. Anshelinah recognized that she said some hurtful things to someone just trying to help. She wasn't in a good place at the time, still far from that good place now... It ate at her in those days since, when she avoided him on purpose. She wanted to fix it now. Like they always did.
Whenever they had a fight, she'd always find this place with Cole...
And they'd make it good.
"Anshelinah..."
Cole rubbed the back of his neck. Confused wasn't even the word.
"I've got work in the morning... you wouldn't come knocking on my door if you didn't need something. Just tell me what's going on."
His voice came out in exasperated grumbles. It's not something that would sound good on the receiving end. He took a deep breath and thought of his friend's advice. Your words say what you mean, your tone says how you feel... And your tone talks a hell of a lot louder.
Cole thought he should take it from him, as he'd been with the same girl for years. The girl Cole had found himself coveting at a time or two.
"I'm here... You know you can always come to me, Anshi."
Cole was surprised at how she softened. Those few seconds of contemplation, the whole "thinking before speaking" thing that Cole hardly had any patience for, was working like a charm. He couldn't help but think it saved them from another bout of fighting words.
Anshelinah reached out and grabbed at Cole, and he went into her arms right away. He sat on the bed, holding her in a sweet embrace. Cole lays a heavy hand on her curls, sorting through them as she buried her face into his lap. She wasn't crying, and that was normal. Cole had never known Anshelinah Circe as one to cry.
Her hands skimmed over his skin, sending goosebumps up his forearms and chills down his spine. Her touches were seeking something. Cole had touched enough to know that.
"Talk to me," he said.
Anshi closed her eyes against him, breathing in the scent of his pants. Cole's smell did something to her brain chemistry, it was almost animal. When she smelled his brutish musk, she just wanted to fix everything wrong that had ever happened between them. If she knew Cole even half as well as she thought she did, there was a foolproof way to get him to bite on a temporary olive branch. Not that she wanted it to be temporary, but she was being real with herself.
Things between them never stay good for long.
"I'm sorry... for last week. It was eating me... I want to feel close to you again... Make me feel that."
Anshelinah had said a few magic words.
Cole felt a switch in his head flip. A surge of desire began coursing through his body like an electric current. He knew what was happening, he'd grown that self-aware, but he wasn't quite powerful enough to resist. Or maybe he was. He never tried to.
He let a noise rise in the back of his throat, a sigh as he slid his hand under her overshirt, against the curve of her bare back. He pulled Anshelinah on top of him, center over his pelvis. His hands brought her thighs around him as if on instinct. Maybe it wasn't instinct... maybe it was more muscle memory.
They were now face to face, Anshelinah seated firmly atop him. She looked down into his face, it was almost smug. She'd loved and hated that smug look, and she couldn't decide which it was now. But she needed it, nonetheless.
"Is this close enough?" He asked her.
She shook her head, letting her droopy eyes lid. She dared herself closer, closer until his bull's breath swathed her face and her rabbit heart shook the air between them. She was in his snare already, and she was the one who put herself there.
"No- No..."
Cole's hands intentionally smoothed up her back, his callouses teasing rough marks along Anshelinah's soft skin.
"I'm getting a feeling you didn't come all the way to my house at two in the morning just to cuddle..."
He was almost teasing her, he had to be. The way his voice got low and affectionate when he chastised her. He cradled her close and she felt him grow stiff between her.
"Would I be correct?"
Anshelinah nodded in subtle agreement. Maybe she did want that too, for she loved the way Cole held her... but she had another motive.
He grabbed her chin, rubbing it softly with his thumb.
"Look at me."
Anshelinah did as she was told.
"Will you tell me what you really want? Use your words."
The way Cole dumbed this down for her, Anshelinah realized how much of her brain she left at the door. She wasn't particularly functional anymore, but that's okay. Her plan had already been set in motion.
"Mh... You know I don't like begging," she whispered.
Cole watched those full lips stick and pull when she talked. He bit his own in apprehension. He pictured those lips in all types of shapes and expressions, doing all types of things. Sometimes, when he had other romps, he'd find himself thinking of these instead. They were just so good.
Cole shrugged.
"Then don't. Just be a big girl and tell me what you came for... I promise I won't hold it against you."
Oh, this man worked her nerves.
"I want you to make love to me, alright?"
Cole breathed the air that came out of her lips like it was hit of something strong and good. It made him drunk. His next words tumbled out of his mouth like honeyed syrup, deep and dark and dangerous.
"Hm... If I recall correctly you told me the last time it was 'definitely the last time'... but here... you... are. I can't deny you or me the pleasure, can I?"
He let his hand drag down her throat, his rough fingertips indecisive as whether to make lines on her face, or move the wild curls from in front of those sappy eyes of hers.
"Cole..."
Her whisper was so wet. It made Cole ache. He murmured on the skin of her face, making a path to her mouth.
"I'll do whatever you want if you kiss me first..."
His lips were so close it hurt, but he wouldn't close the space. It didn't matter how much he wanted to. She had to tell him she wanted him. She had to want him first.
Anshelinah surveyed Cole's face. She cupped it in her hands gently, looking at his every feature. His chiseled cheeks, his dark eyes that seemed to hold every forbidden secret she'd ever wondered about. His crooked nose, broken once in a fight. His lips. His pink lips. She'd seen them busted and bloody and red. She had seen them with stitches, and she'd seen them after. She'd seen the scar that remained. He had such a rough and rugged exterior.
And she hated to love it.
She leaned in closer, letting their noses brush against one another. The tension was not between them, but around them, enclosing the odd, polarized pair in a world of their own. A glow of anticipation made a halo around Anshelinah's face. Cole soaked it up like sunlight.
"Come on, Cole... Come on...."
The way Anshelinah coaxed the hunger out of Cole was lawless. She was the object of his fantasies. Cole doesn't admit that anywhere but in bedrooms with her.
"You want me, Anshi?"
Their lips grazed each other twice. Cole could taste her.
"Yeah, I want you."
Their lips brushed twice more.
"How bad, baby?"
Cole's grip got tighter.
"So bad."
Anshelinah's body got softer.
"Then show me?"
"Okay."
Anshelinah shattered the magnetic field between them by crashing their lips together. Cole pressed their hips together right away, not pausing for reason or cause. The noise that escaped Anshelinah awakened something carnal in Cole. He was in this place of obsessive greed over Anshelinah that he could not control, nor wanted to. It only grew more intense now that she'd opened the gateway.
Her hands slid down his body, nails scraping along his skin. The pressure of her body on top of his was intoxicating. Cole had every intention of being buried beneath her tonight in every way imaginable. When he'd gotten his fill, he'd claw his way back up and take her body in his hands like the soil of the earth, indulging himself by spreading it all over his. Cole thought about this as he stripped Anshelinah bare. Her sighs and moans, muffled by the biting of her lips, made him see the light of god.
He admired her nude body, every place he'd come to subdue before. He left handprints and marks all over this body, as he's done before. Her body called to Cole and Cole loved the way he could answer. He loved the way she only wanted his answer.
"Fuck... Anshelinah..."
He was breathless now, gripping the bedsheets in a tight fist. She'd submerged him in something he'd like to believe was love. He was about to fill her with the same thing.
"Cole- Cole... Hold me.. hold me tighter, please."
Cole couldn't deny her pleas. He gathered her melting body in his arms as he dove into her again and again.
"Cole.. I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry.."
Her apologies came in panting huffs that kissed Cole's sweaty neck. Her sweet cries hung in the air like a song.
"Hey.. it's okay.. I'm here now, alright? I'm here.. We're fine.."
The passion and intensity of their lovemaking was an anomaly in both their lives. Cole couldn't count another partner that made him feel this way. Why did it have to come from anger and regret, the love that they made in this bed?
"I want you, Cole. Te quiero.. Cole-"
Her voice ascended until it was nothing more than the chimes of an angel. Cole felt her squeeze him so tight like she wasn't ever going to let go. He squeezed her too, taking care that the ripe fruit of her body and what came from it were worshipped in holy sanction.
He couldn't hold any longer. Anshelinah's sweet caress wouldn't let him. He filled her until she was brimming, murmuring the words right into her ear.
"Te quiero... te quiero...."
When he collapsed on top of her, Cole allowed her yearning to soak into his psyche like the scent of prey's blood. It was satisfying, it was completing. He was reminded of that every time he tasted of it. He always thirsted for it and it made him blind with want. Blind enough to see past any bickering or squabble. Anshelinah knew that all along. She, a gazelle, walked into the lion's den knowing how easily this lion would be enticed. How easily the lion would take the bait.
Except that the bait was her.
And in this grand analogy, the gazelle had a certain fetish about being devoured alive.
@themaethpost
#GODDDDDDDDS PLEASE#so much tension#and love#just say you love her cole dont be a PUSSY#i loved this#anshelinah circe#cole berlusconi
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"Mara, my Mara...
The moment Nazir introduced us I knew you'd be it for me and I wasn't wrong. You'll always be part of me, my first love, the love of my life. You taught me what true love is, Marita.
I wish I could still take off your boots and rub your feet after a long day at the farm, I wish I could kiss your sweet lips and play with your fingers all night as we fall asleep after making love.
I miss you. We will meet again."
✒️ Written by Cole Berlusconi.
Hi there, I'm Mara.
Full name: Mara Evangeline Gaia Gabris
Age: 24 (Would be 32)
Birthday: May 16th
Sexual orientation: Heterosexual
Familiar: Odysseus the Mustang
Personality:
Birth chart (big three): Taurus Sun, Gemini Moon, Aries Rising
MBTI: ESFP-A
Patron Arcana: The Star
Upright: Hope, Faith, Rejuvenation, Healing
Reversed: Hopelessness, Faithlessness, Despair, Despondence
Minor Arcana: Nine of Swords
Upright: Fear, Isolation, Breaking Point
Reversed: Recovery, Coping, Finding Hope
Likes: The color orange, watching the wind kick up dust devils in the desert, fine jewelry, braiding other people's hair, when people make her laugh, roasting marshmallows, flowers of all kinds, putting new horseshoes on her horses, riding in the bed of trucks, cow print, going out dancing, square-toe boots, getting drunk off three shots of Jameson, equating strength with beauty, smiling, barbecues, the month of May, when people compliment her, the way her skin looks when kissed by the sun, shopping at the farmer's market, painting her nails, experimenting in the kitchen, the way her key ring jangles on her hip when she walks, wearing cute clothes that make her feel feminine, brushing her locs, Cole teasing her when she can't say his last name right, pound cake, Summer, playing cards, doing her makeup in natural light, when Cole takes off her cowgirl boots for her, watching the sun rise when she's rounding up her cattle, sleeping with the window open, when people request personal deliveries from her farm, the sounds of the desert at night, riddles that she won't guess, when dogs chase cars, fishing, holding hands in public, giving gifts, feeding her chickens, showing off how well she can whistle, hugs, do it yourself renovations on the house, evening rides with the love of her life.
Dislikes: Washing dishes, blood blisters, using spurs on her animals, baked beans, when people expect more out of her than she feels like she can give, the end of summer, eating the same thing every day, taking animals to the slaughterhouse, when people frown at her, waking up before the rooster, unwanted touch, standing at the market all day selling things from the farm, people who cheat during games, rope burn on her hands, dust storms that ruin the crops, people calling her ditzy even though she knows she's not that smart, the feeling of someone leaving her behind, herself without her locs, hauling water from the river, when people tell her she's lost weight, when she has to get feisty for her voice to be heard, replacing her favorite jeans because her thighs chafe too much, when her family yells at her for making a mistake, convincing others she's soft and deserving of love, the feeling of regret.
Abilities: Mara is a very skilled cowgirl. She can ride horses very well and knows a lot about the upkeep and care of farm animals. She can lasso and whistle and tie a lot of knots. She's pretty handy, able to fix little things around her house and farm. She's very in tune with nature and has a natural sense of direction. Mara also likes to garden and has a green thumb which helps a lot when you grow up on a farm. Mara is also really good at cooking and baking.
Favourite food: Tater Tot Casserole with Cheese and Sour Cream and Bacon
Favourite drink: Sweet Tea with a slice of Orange
Favourite flower: Somraldic Poppy
Favourite place: Under a Somraldic Sycamore in the arms of her love
Magic: Mara is a Prairie Maiden, one of the native witches of Somrald. The magic can be either hereditary, obtained if you complete a special ritual, or you are ordained before you're born. Although she's not as devout as other witches in practice, she often prays and gives offerings at her altar for the Maiden of the Valley, the feminine spirit that watches over Somraldic people, specifically women. Her magic is emotional, providing peace and comfort to the people around her through her touch and her words. She also has a lot of empathy for others as well as animals due to this gift. Mara was also born as one of the Maiden's Messengers, a woman blessed by the Maiden of the Valley with the power to change form into that of an animal. Mara's animal spirit is a Red-Tailed Hawk.
Appearance:
Height: 5'11 or 180 cm
Weight: 217 lbs or 98 kg
Hair: Mara has long black goddess locs that she's been growing since she was a young girl. They're waist-length now and she loves to put charms and weave prairie flowers in them. She often does different styles with her locs, wearing a bandana on her head or tying them in ponytails under her cowgirl hat. In her last few years of life, she cut them, revealing shoulder-length dark bouncy curls.
Eyes: Mara has black eyes, like most people in Murik Valley. They're some of the biggest, sweetest eyes you'll ever see. She has long lashes and always lines her eyes with makeup before leaving the house. She's very expressive and sweet and you'll often find yourself softening under her gaze. One bat of her eyelashes and you'll give her anything she wants.
General description: Mara is tall and curvy. She's strong from all the physical labor she does. She carries her weight in her arms, stomach, hips and legs. Her hourglass shape is accompanied by the cute pudge of her stomach that can be seen when she wears the low-rise jeans she loves. Her face is sweet with round cheeks and a soft jaw. Her lips are quite full and she has dimples when she smiles.
Mara is a free spirit. She loves adventure and feeling alive. She loves experiencing new things and going to new places. She's family-oriented, as Valley folk tend to be, however, she's got a wanderlust that can never be satisfied. If she loves you, she loves hard and you'll know it. She's loyal and dutiful to the people she loves. She's quite responsible when it comes to work, but she loves horsing around and having fun. Mara can be a little forgetful, but if it's important, she'll get it done.
Fashion Sense: Mara is always wearing Western clothing, but she still likes looking nice. A good pair of body-hugging bootcut or flare jeans are her go-to, with a nice belt, no matter the occasion. If she's working she'll wear a henley or collared shirt to protect herself from the elements. If it's cold she'll wear a denim jacket with a fleece interior. She's also got chaps and a few vests she'll wear depending on her work day and the weather. If it's a day of leisure, she'll opt for those jeans paired with a fashion top or a low-cut shirt that shows off her full figure. She loves ribbed tops or henleys, but it's always a scoop neck. Mara never leaves the house without her boots. She's got several pairs, some simple for work, some snazzy for going out. She's always wearing gold or turquoise jewelry and never leaves home without a few prairie charms.
Mara also likes dressing up sometimes. She'll wear a dress with a plunging neckline and some decorative boots. It's very rare you'll see Mara in a pair of heels, but she loves how pretty they make her feel.
A brief look into her life:
Occupation: Mara works with her father on their farm. Her duties include cattle wrangling, milking the cows, feeding the chickens and pigs, slaughtering livestock, tending to their farmland, and a world of other things. There's a lot that goes into having a farm. She does most of the intensive labor with the help of whoever they can afford to employ since Myvern is not able to handle most of that labor due to his illness. Mara also dedicates a portion of her life to the Maiden of the Valley as one of her Messengers. Whatever duties the Maiden calls her to do, she will see in a dream, a vision, or a sudden compulsion.
Love Interest:
Cole Berlusconi
Family and friends:
Myvern Gabris, father
Eleni Gabris, mother
Persephone Gabris, little sister
Tiana Samaras, aunt
Clio Mallas, aunt
Pollyanna Evander, best friend
Nazir Circe, close friend
Olympia Mathison, Castor Bedlam, Jason Karras, friends and colleagues
Tomás, Matías, Marcos, and Emilio, acquaintances she met in Maeth
Isabella Ziergah, friend
Hercules Argo, husband
Bree Argo, daughter
Miscellaneous facts.
Mara is insanely strong. She can't quite tear an addressbook in half but she can make a rip.
Mara never saw herself settling down with a man in a traditional sense, but adventuring and traveling all over the world doing new things with the man she loves, and only after that settling down.
She's always wanted a house with a whole wall made of windows.
Mara's love languages are gift-giving and acts of service.
Mara has a few tattoos, most of which she's gotten in honor of the love of her life. The tattoos include a spaceship, an 8 ball, and an oak tree. Her others include a horseshoe on her wrist, a feather on her forearm, and a bull on her shoulder.
Mara is a lively and adventurous girl, but she's almost always been held back by her family.
Mara can shotgun a beer in record time and its one of her favorite party tricks
Mara can drive both a manual and an automatic transmission vehicle and she teaches her friends how to drive. She taught Cole how to both drive a car and ride a horse.
Mara struggled with her self-esteem as a child, in large part because of her family.
Mara has a younger sister who ran away when she was fifteen and Mara was sixteen. This affected Mara in a lot of ways. She hardly likes to talk about it.
Mara has a complicated relationship with her family, but nobody seems to really ever see her side of the story.
Mara meets Cole one summer when they're 18 years old. They fall in a love so deep and intense the relationship sustains long distance for three years, until Mara's family pressures her into marrying someone else to save their farm and livelihood.
She has never loved anyone more than she's loved Cole Berlusconi.
"When you're here with me, I like to think everything's gonna work out. I love you."
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“Jealous of every guy in town that dares to look in your direction, yes. Don’t worry chiquita, I’ll make sure to hug you as long as you want and keep that good mood you have going. Te quiero más.”
✒️ Written by Cole Berlusconi.
Now Presenting: Cole Berlusconi, the fighter.
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"Che, Cole tráeme otro trago? No? Well, I'm sorry that I can drink more than you. Estas celoso? Solo di eso... Whatever. Come give me a hug. I won't be in a good mood for long, chiquito... Te quiero."
Anshelinah Circe
Now Presenting: Cole Berlusconi, the fighter.
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