#daily capo

[daily-capochin]

[Day 24]

Self Care

[artuurle]

because today has been a Bizzyboy kick for me i decided to sketch my hcs about the height and builds of these guys. who knows if i draw them like this again or iterate upon the designs though.

Also calling out how horribly I dressed Grujaja. theres a reason i did it but its still foul XC

[gonnahaveabigtalklater]

vibiano doesn't get enough credit for his restraint... as the bizzyboy tailor he had every opportunity to make capochin's uniform include thigh-highs + booty shorts + midriff top w/ boob window... and you KNOW he would've wanted to he was soo thirsty for that terrible old man... but he didn't because he's a PROFESSIONAL 🙌✨️

[spaziodanzacdo-blog]

Parigi Day 1: Il Primo Giorno nella Città delle Luci

Il primo giorno a Parigi è stato un susseguirsi di emozioni e scoperte entusiasmanti. Dopo una sveglia all'alba per partire dalla calda Sicilia e raggiungere la magica Parigi, siamo stati accolti da un clima fresco e un'atmosfera vibrante, pronti ad immergerci completamente nell'incantevole atmosfera parigina. Il nostro primo giro della città ci ha portato a ammirare alcune delle icone più celebri al mondo, dall'iconica Torre Eiffel, alla maestosità degli Champs-Élysées fino alla grandezza del Louvre.

La giornata è stata intensa, tra visite e momenti di esplorazione libera, ma ogni istante è stato ricco di emozioni e meraviglie da scoprire. Nonostante la stanchezza accumulata dal lungo viaggio, siamo rientrati non troppo tardi, desiderosi di riposare e ricaricare le energie per affrontare al meglio il secondo giorno di avventure che ci aspetta.

Con la mente piena di nuove esperienze e la promessa di ulteriori scoperte, non vediamo l'ora di immergerci ancora una volta nella bellezza e nella vivacità di questa città straordinaria.

[smilesession]

DAILY AFFIRMATION

I must be loyle to my capo.

[the-amazing-digital-mafia]

Yknow the soldier capo / underboss capo post? Could you expand more on that?

So heres some explanation for whole family hierarchy

Boss - leads the family and represents it in other families. He mainly deals with administrative issues with his underboss and provides protection from the law to his subordinates. He also transmits tasks information to his underboss and does not participate in them

Consigliere - the boss's adviser and his most trusted person. He has the right to criticize certain of his decisions, as well as to give related advices. He does not take part in task, but can be intermediary in disputes between families

Underboss - another confidant of the boss. He is responsible for carrying out all day-to-day tasks with soldiers and accomplices. He is the connective between boss and lower people in the hierarchy and also involved in many intra-family conflicts

Capo - the leader of a team of people who perform tasks. They are responsible for the well-being of their subordinates, as well as monitoring the execution of orders

Soldiers - the main "combat cells". They do their daily chores with capos and accomplices and earn money for their family and themselves

Accomplices - people who are not family members and just doing their job

[rainynightmoonlight]

Omg a event that has song reqs?!!🤯🤯 I HAVE THE PERFECT SONG THAT HAS BOTH ANGST AND FLUFF POTENTIAL!!

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Characters: Silver Kalim Rook

Type: Normal, Romantic fluff. Not established relationship? Yeah idk about that.

Song: Da Capo from Honkai impact 3rd. Its a game.

I may send in another req with the same song for angst. Cause the potential i tell you.

.·:🎼¨༺ Songs from the heart ༻¨🎼:·. | Da Capo

Characters: Kalim, Rook, Silver

Song: Da Capo from Honkai Impact 3rd

Warnings: None

A/U: Self aware Twisted Wonderland Au

KALIM AL ASIM

Kalim was excited while you were using him to finish up the exams for your weekly missions. He was one of your mains, and it brought so much joy to his already joyful heart. This time however, you were choosing the moves and not autoing the battles. Your attention on him made him so happy. While doing the daily exams, Kalims's ears picked up such a beautiful song playing in the background.

“When good old friends are going away, Will you wish them to remember your name?”

You seemed so somber when listening to the song. As if your heart weighed heavy with something but you still chose to smile. Kalim liked it when you smiled, especially when he was the cause of it. There was something off about that one lyric. There was a certain sadness in your eyes.

Did people forget you? His heart swelled with empathy at the notion that you were forgotten amongst peers within your world. How badly Kalim wished to whisk you away and into Scarabia. All of his dorm mates would treat you with such adoration and not a single soul would go on without remembering your name. You were the creator after all.

Kalim made sure that when the last exam ended, he was the one on the victory screen. He said his coded line but when he asked if the opponent was okay, it was more directed towards you. Your gaze lingered on the victory screen. Kalim urgently answered your question. His words didn't reach you but the sentiment was still there.

“Of course I would! And I'll remember yours too, creator!”

ROOK HUNT

Rook had his usual smile on his face, one that never revealed his true inner feelings. He was the only one in the guest room wandering around. You watched with entertainment while trying to decide what item to craft and add to the concoction of furniture within the room. Rook sat down in one of the plush chairs provided in the guest room humming the tune playing in the background. One lyric caught the hunter's attention, however.

“May you, the beauty of this world always shine.”

Rook's eyes widened at the sudden lyric. Shock flooded through his system but it wasn't evident over the screen. His chibi in the guest room froze on the chair it was sitting on. You recognized his beauty. Shock soon turned into amazement at the notion of what you said.

Rook was often used to being the pervaior of beauty, but having you call out his beauty made him so happy. His lips spread across his face. A smile from cheek to cheek was evident. He hummed in amusement, leaning back in the excellently crafted chair. He wanted to pay you back for the excellent song.

His beauty was mostly for you. He dedicated so much to represent himself the best he could. Even before his transition into Pomefiore. Rook looked at you from the other side with such adoration. His beauty didn't rival yours.

“You're the reason I always shine, creator.”

SILVER

Silver was dozing off, much to his dismay, while you looked at one of his cards. His chibi form was on display while you were looking at one of his cards' stats. He was very grateful that you were paying so much attention to him. Music played in the background as you decided what to level up on the card. It was calming enough to put Silver right to sleep.

“When good old days are passing away Will you promise your heart remains the same?”

Silver immediately awoke with his drowsiness now gone. He looked at your calming features. That one lyric replayed in his mind as if it were meant for him. The song continued to play, but that one lyric swarmed his thoughts. Does he dare answer you?

He so badly wanted to. Even if the question was just a song. Even if he was reading too much into it. Silver could have been dreaming it for all he knew. He didn't care; he wanted to express that he wouldn't ever change. 

At least he wouldn't change much. Silver was overwhelmed with happiness that you liked him so much that you didn't want him to change. He was sure you still would even if he did. After some thinking, Silver made his mind up. His little chibi made eye contact with you once more.

“With you watching over me, I can promise I won't ever change.”

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[duckprintspress]

Genderfluid Characters for Genderfluid Visibility Week!

This week, October 17th to 24th, is Genderfluid Visibility Week! There are depressingly few books out with genderfluid rep, and even then it’s often open to interpretation whether a character is genderfluid or not, but we’ve done our best to gather a modest list. (btw, if you’re wondering why it’s 7 reads and 5 covers, it’s cause our anthology Aether Beyond the Binary has three short stories with genderfluid characters!) The contributors to this list are Meera S., Shannon and 2 anonymous contributors.

-

A Flame in the Night (New Age Gothic series) by Morgan Dante

The start of bloody decadence…

The definition of marriage: Two people and their silver-haired vampire.

In 1924, Paris is a bastion of sexual freedom, even for shell-shocked Leon Laflamme, the most dramatic blond this side of the Seine. After years of loneliness and secrecy, he’s married the clever and sumptuous burlesque dancer Claire. However, Leon truly finds liberation when he meets the stoic, intriguing, and silver-haired Count Matthias, who offers true freedom in his dark gift: immortality.

-

Both Can Be True by Jules Machias

Ash is no stranger to feeling like an outcast. For someone who cycles through genders, it’s a daily struggle to feel in control of how people perceive you. Some days Ash is undoubtedly girl, but other times, 100 percent guy. Daniel lacks control too—of his emotions. He’s been told he’s overly sensitive more times than he can count. He can’t help the way he is, and he sure wishes someone would accept him for it.

So when Daniel’s big heart leads him to rescue a dog that’s about to be euthanized, he’s relieved to find Ash willing to help. The two bond over their four-legged secret. When they start catching feelings for each other, however, things go from cute to complicated. Daniel thinks Ash is all girl . . . what happens when he finds out there’s more to Ash’s story?

With so much on the line—truth, identity, acceptance, and the life of an adorable pup named Chewbarka—will Ash and Daniel forever feel at war with themselves because they don’t fit into the world’s binaries? Or will their friendship help them embrace the beauty of living in between?

-

The Brilliant Death (The Brilliant Death series) by Amy Rose Capetta

For Teodora DiSangro, a mafia don’s daughter, family is fate.

All her life, Teodora has hidden the fact that she secretly turns her family’s enemies into music boxes, mirrors, and other decorative objects. After all, everyone in Vinalia knows that stregas—wielders of magic—are figures out of fairytales. Nobody believes they’re real.

Then the Capo, the land’s new ruler, sends poisoned letters to the heads of the Five Families that have long controlled Vinalia. Four lie dead and Teo’s beloved father is gravely ill. To save him, Teo must travel to the capital as a DiSangro son—not merely disguised as a boy, but transformed into one.

Enter Cielo, a strega who can switch back and forth between male and female as effortlessly as turning a page in a book. Teo and Cielo journey together to the capital, and Teo struggles to master her powers and to keep her growing feelings for Cielo locked in her heart. As she falls in love with witty, irascible Cielo, Teo realizes how much of life she’s missed by hiding her true nature. But she can’t forget her mission, and the closer they get to the palace, the more sinister secrets they uncover about what’s really going on in their beloved country—and the more determined Teo becomes to save her family at any cost.

-

The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang

Paris, at the dawn of the modern age: 

Prince Sebastian is looking for a bride–or rather, his parents are looking for one for him. Sebastian is too busy hiding his secret life from everyone. At night he puts on daring dresses and takes Paris by storm as the fabulous Lady Crystallia–the hottest fashion icon in the world capital of fashion 

Sebastian’s secret weapon (and best friend) is the brilliant dressmaker Frances–one of only two people who know the truth: sometimes this boy wears dresses. But Frances dreams of greatness, and being someone’s secret weapon means being a secret. Forever. How long can Frances defer her dreams to protect a friend? Jen Wang weaves an exuberantly romantic tale of identity, young love, art, and family. A fairy tale for any age, The Prince and the Dressmaker will steal your heart.

-

Aether Beyond the Binary Anthology

The core concept of Aether Beyond the Binary is simple and compelling: create intriguing main characters outside the gender binary and set them loose to explore the modern world twisted or unchanged, enhanced or destroyed by magical aether. This power source may replace technology, supplement it, or oppose it. These characters may be agender, genderfluid, bigender, or any other non-binary identity. The thread that unites these tales is exploration: of the world around them and of the self. We propose no final conclusions; instead, we demonstrate how far-reaching the questions are and how expansive the range of possible answers can be, thereby broadening the discussion about the nature of gender and the place of genderqueer characters in fantasy fiction. We hope you’ll join us to explore the endless possibilities of these magical worlds. 

How Your Garden Grows by Nicola Kapron, True by Kelas Lloyd, and N(ae)ghbours by Scarlett Gale have genderfluid characters!

-

What are your favorite books with genderfluid characters?

View all the books from this year’s and last year’s Genderfluid Visibility Week lists by visiting our shelf on Goodreads!

Browse this book as a rec list on Bookshop.org!

[empressofmankind]

THE CUT

[Crocodile x Shivs (OC)]

Teen and up ~ 2k / 5 pgs

(A/N): I don't know how to sell you this - It's definitely a Crocodile x Shivs ficlet, but also he isn't in it?! He's mentioned one (1) time.

It's the bad old days prior to the Team Triassic's story line. It's the period between the hushed up Jurassic Park drama (in the aftermath of which Crocodile's accounts got frozen) and the infamous San Diego incident that saw him maimed in the way we all know him to be. That's right, it's 1996 and they're living in San Diego. And not the bella vita.

Tag(s): Suspense. Not-so-veiled threats of violence. Mafia shenanigans. Devil Fruit, whomst? Nothing graphic, this time.

🚬🚬🚬

It had been an typical Monday until just before closing time, when it took an abrupt turn for the worse.

Alfonso had immigrated to San Diego from Marsala three years ago and set up shop near the main street of Little Italy. An excellent spot for a skilled craftsman, and soon people knew where to find him. There had been several regulars today, in for their weekly or biweekly appointment. Some fresh faces, too. He was just wiping his hands on a towel while seeing off his last customer when she entered.

That’s right, a woman.

Dressed as she was in slacks and a vest situation, her face in the shade of a Coppola cap, he’d at first assumed she was a man. After all, all his customers were.

“Lady,” Alfonso said, his surprise evident in his tone. “This is a barbershop.”

Her long fingers lingered on the olive corduroy before she removed her cap to reveal a narrow face and hawkish eyes. Eye, he should say, as a neat leather eyepatch covered the left. She tilted her head like a bird. Or a cat. Perhaps, a cat casing a bird.

“I am aware.”

Her Italian was fluent, but he could not place her accent. She didn’t seem from the neighborhood to him with her red hair and pale skin. Unsure what to make of her, he slipped into the false comfort of his daily routine. She did have her hair cut in a short, flamboyant sort of quiff that had clearly outgrown its ideal length.

“You need a trim, donna?”

“Yes.” She smiled - a self-satisfied, toothy thing more a threat than a reassurance. “Unless you are closed, Alfonso?”

Alfonso frowned and looked her over again. No, he’d remember if he’d met a woman like her. How did she know his name? He shrugged off the unpleasant feeling. Word of mouth, no doubt. If her purpose was a trim, he would provide a trim.

“If there are customers, my doors are open,” he said as he gestured her to his salon chair. He pulled it out for her, but when she sat down, a metallic ‘clang’ rang against the frame. The source was a worn prosthetic, replacing the lower half of her left leg. It was just visible above the neat, two-tone derby when she sat. He busied himself with fashioning his barber cape about her neck and shoulders. If she’d been a man, he’d have assumed she’d lost it in a war, perhaps a severe work accident. What harms threaten a woman’s leg?

The color of her hair was remarkable - lustrous, as copper, and red as spilled wine. And her own, rather than painted as he had first thought. Her roots were as crimson as the rest of it. Yet its texture was rough and stiff as he inspected the grown out quiff. The culprit was hairspray, used amply and regularly, so it would bounce back when she removed her cap. He could determine this because he felt and remedied it on the daily.

“A wax is easier on the hair than a spray,” he said, conversationally, and not for the first time that day. “It holds just as well.” He gauged the length of the now drooping forelock, considering how to prune it into shape. Such an unusual hair shade. A wax would do it good, strengthen its natural shine. If she let it grow, it would be a sight to behold.

“I’ll swipe some from mio capo.”

That gave him pause.

Not the cavalier mention of theft, but whose mouths that particular noun tended to frequent. Then again, their thing, too, was men’s business. He caught her observing him in the mirror. She seemed amused.

He’d never cut a woman’s hair before. He supposed it shouldn’t be any different. Wondered if she would have other expectations of this masculine cut. “Signorina Chiara down the street can cut it proper.”

“Signorina Chiara has paid her protection.”

 Alfonso froze.

He hadn’t forgotten.

Not exactly.

For the past three years, he had made the payment every month on the precise time and day specified. He’d never heard anything, never seen anyone. He gave the envelope with cash to the Mexican girl chewing bubblegum at the corner store, and that was that.

Last week, the day after it was due this month, he realized he forgot to hand over the usual third of his income. He’d been worried, but no one had come. Not the day after that, either. He’d started thinking maybe they hadn’t noticed? His was but a small business. Surely, his few crumpled bills didn’t matter all that much.

She glanced up from the corner of her good eye. “I suggest you don’t ruin it.”

“I’d never, donna.” His hand shook as he combed her hair and lined up his scissors to refresh her haircut. He cut in silence for a while, and she observed him in the mirror. He could sense her gaze on him as snippets of red hair fell to the floor, collecting there like red autumn leaves or spilled blood about a drain.

“Leave the bangs a tad longer,” she said when he was almost done, and he obliged. “Full plate, today?”

“Usual, I would say,” he said as he cut. He’d helped customers all day, but no one had to be turned down.

“Lookin’ after your own, I see,” she surmised, and he noticed the snare around his ankle the moment it closed. “Friend of ours wouldn’t leave us out in the cold.”

He could have suggested that business had slowed down, should have said that income had been scarce.

Too late, now.

“Listen Alfonso.” She rolled her shoulders beneath the barber cape and caught his gaze in the mirror, a flick at their surroundings with her long fingers. “I was told to remind you who got you on solid ground when you arrived here, who helped you set up this little shop.”

She needn’t tell him.

He knew.

For as he watched the last snip of red hair drift to the tiled floor, he realized who sat in his salon chair.

Quello rosso - the red one.

Never had he imagined the Crocodile’s infamous enforcer might be a woman. No one had ever? He’d assumed - expected? He supposed it didn’t matter, now.

“This neighborhood can be rough,” she said as he cautiously tilted her head to trim up the sides. “You wouldn’t want to be without protection.”

“No, signora,” he hastily agreed as he touched the straight razor to the short hair just behind her ear. Unintentionally, his gaze lingered on the slow pulse of veins at the crease of her jaw.

“You seem a smart man, Alfonso.” Her tone was soft and deliberate. “Don’t think stupid thoughts, now.”

Alfonso frowned and coughed, putting the razor down as the fit’s intensity brought fluid up from his lungs. It left as quickly as it had started.

“Scuse,” he managed as he recovered, and rinsed and dried his hands before returning to the task at hand.

He glimpsed her sly smile in the mirror. “It’s been going around.”

He finished the cut, and she seemed well enough pleased with it as she rose and inspected it. “Listen, you bring the missing dough and a little extra for this hassle come Thursday, and I won’t be bringing this suit to the dry-cleaner.” She returned her cap to its proper place and turned to him. “That sound fair to you?”

Less than three days.

She tilted her head, and he felt another coughing fit come on.

“Si, signora,” he agreed in between coughs and his throat cleared. “Thursday, subito.”

She smiled and he hurried to open the door for her.

He didn’t release the breath he’d been holding until she’d crossed the street and disappeared into the alley behind Gino’s. He flipped the sign to ‘closed’ and sank to the ground with his back against the glass door.

‘A little extra for this hassle.’

How much money did they expect?

All of it.

He’d assume all of it. If that wasn’t sufficient… The magnitude of what had happened hit him, and he broke down in sobs. He knew he was lucky if this was all he ever saw of her.

Her.

Never would he have suspected… he marshaled his nerves.

He would not make that mistake again.

🚬🚬🚬

@tiredemomama @feral-artistry @lostfirefly @supermetalfandomfreak @biohazard-inevitable @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 @katmihawk @momodwriter @dressycobra7 @bronsterbash

[capochin]

Oh, Capo! Yer god needs his daily dose o' dev-ocean! If he don't get it soon, he might just fade away from dis-app-ointment... yew don't want that, do yew?! I didn't think so!

ACK. You got it, boss!! I'll be right there with a devotion burgie and plenty o'worship!!

[daily-capochin]

[Day 26]

Look where you're walking!

[falcemartello]

-----

Quarant'anni anni fa l'opinione pubblica era formata esclusivamente dai Media ufficiali.

La grande finanza massonica che li controllava poteva far credere alla gente qualsiasi cosa. La proprietà di TV e grandi quotidiani era essenziale per fare politica.

In Italia si diceva che "chi si avvicina al Corriere della sera muore". E in effetti coloro che tentarono di prenderne il controllo finirono in galera o in rovina, e qualcuno al cimitero.

Oggi non lo legge più nessuno.

In America il podcast indipendente di Joe Rogan ha milioni di ascoltatori. Ha potuto permettersi di criticare i vaccini e perfino Israele, accusandolo di genocidio, e guadagna lo stesso.

Tucker Carlson è stato silurato da Fox News per le sue idee di libertà e democrazia, ma ora qui su X intervista Putin e ha dieci volte più spettatori di prima.

L'astro nascente della destra repubblicana Candace Owens @RealCandaceO (quella che sostiene che George Floyd è morto di overdose e non soffocato da un poliziotto, e che Brigitte Macron è un uomo) è stata licenziata dalla famosa agenzia Daily Wire perché accusata di antisemitismo da un potente rabbino.

In realtà ha soltanto criticato Israele per i crimini contro i Palestinesi, e si è vantata di essere nera e cristiana.

Ora, però, è molto più seguita di prima, sia nel suo programma TV, sia qui su X. Perfino Elliot Resnick, ex capo redattore di Jewish Press, ha scritto su Israel National News che non si può accusare chiunque non la pensi come il governo di Israele di essere "antisemita" per metterlo a tacere. Non è giusto e, soprattutto, non funziona più!

israelnationalnews.com/news/387587

Pian piano questo nuovo modo di fare politica sta arrivando anche da noi. Ed un'ottima cosa, che dà speranza.

Spesso mi chiedo se ha più potere (e responsabilità) un senatore, che deve seguire decisioni già prese altrove per non farsi espellere dal partito, o un influencer serio, che ospita opinioni diverse e non fa tifoseria, dice chiaramente quello che pensa e dialoga onestamente con tutti, come la Owens.

Alla fine la differenza è soltanto che il senatore ha l'immunità parlamentare.

Il mondo cambia, fin troppo rapidamente, nel male ma, per fortuna, anche nel bene, solo che non ce ne accorgiamo. Più i Media tradizionali perdono fiducia e lettori, e più voci si potranno esprimere liberamente qui su X, più la civiltà avrà speranza di progredire.

Quindi scriviamo, leggiamo e discutiamo, senza paura❗

Massimo Montanari

-----

Suggerisco inoltre questa lettera:

https://www.frasicelebri.it/frase/noam-chomsky-le-dieci-regole-della-manipolazione-m/

[blogitalianissimo]

Volevo fare una piccola precisazione al post di ieri:

I 5 stelle sostengono l'idea di due Stati che dovrebbero convivere, ovviamente non sono d'accordo con questa politica, anche perché non si risolverebbe niente e prima o poi Israhell comincerebbe da capo a vessare i palestinesi anche dopo un eventuale cessate il fuoco.

L'unica cosa che posso dire è che comunque si è fatto un piccolo passo avanti, cioè la richiesta di riconoscere la Palestina e sventolare le bandiere palestinesi in parlamento è veramente qualcosa di forte, sebbene si tratti appunto del bare minimum, ma il problema è che all'occidente manca pure quel piccolo bare minimum.

Poi ripeto, è una facciata, pura campagna elettorale per le europee, ne sono perfettamente consapevole, ma al momento questo passa il convento. La speranza è che anche altri partiti si sveglino, e magari compatti inizino a fare pressione seria e opposizione al governo che, ahimè, è pieno di s1onisti.

Comunque non dimenticate il vostro > Daily Click < , è gratis, non costa niente

[spaziodanzacdo-blog]

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La magia sta per prendere vita! Mancano solo sette giorni all'incredibile esibizione di Spazio Danza a Disneyland Paris. Preparatevi a essere incantati!

#SpazioDanzaGoesToDisneylandParis

[silvernyxchariot]

Formaggio is currently my emotional support hitman. So, have a rant.

The synopsis is that no one appreciates this character and it makes me sad. Formaggio, come pick me up; I hate it here./j

Out of La Squadra, Formaggio's generally not my favorite, but as a La Squadra whore, I'll make an effort to appreciate my boys.

My initial impression of Formaggio and the majority of La Squadra was... non-existent. I paid attention to Giorno, Bucciarati's group, and subsequently Narancia during this fight. But if I had to come up with something for Formaggio, the only thing that stood out to me was Little Feet. After part 3 and 4, finally, someone had to have the ability to shrink. It's such a simple and convenient ability to have, both on the battlefield and on the daily.

Lock yourself out of your house? Shrink and crawl under the door. Have a lot to carry or something incredibly heavy to carry up a flight of stairs, like a car or a 5 ft x 6 ft paining (don't ask)? Shrink it down to size and put it in your pocket. Or maybe carry a couple of grenades and automatic rifles and wear them like a braclet until you're ready to use them... No one's gonna know. They're gonna know. No one's going to know./ref

The more I made La Squadra a part of my personality, the more I realized, "Fuck yeah, I would appreciate a homie like Formaggio." He may look like an annoying punk (like 99% of my classmates) but he's adaptable and clever. During his first conversation with Narancia, it sounded like Formaggio was just rambling and making jokes, but every sentence was a transition to get information or a reaction from Narancia.

Vol. 2 VA, chp 31:

(To Narancia) "Word is, Polpo died last night. Then, all of a sudden, Bucciarati, Fugo, Abbacchio, and Mista all went into hiding They're not anywhere. I finally found you, though, Narancia. Do you know where they are and why they disappeared?"

"Did you hear about Polpo's body? . . . They can't figure figure out how to cram his fat ass into the furnace. Ha ha ha! They're going to have to cut him into tiny pieces to get him in!"

"Why didn't your crew show up at the capo's funeral?! Answer me, Narancia! If I can't tail you then I'll make you tell me everything!

Baby boy, if you'd stayed quiet and patient, you might have been able to follow Narancia to the vineyard without interruption.

He also has an unnecessary amount of knowledge on mosquitoes and arachnids.

Vol 3 VA, chp 34

"Mosquitoes can sense the carbon dioxide animals exhale. . . That's what's happening here. Aerosmith is seeking out my carbon dioxide!"

The only thing I needed to know was that mosquitoes are little menaces that help transfer diseases and need to be smacked out of existence. I didn't want to know this extra CO² info, but thanks, I guess./s Did I want to read about spiders' digestive fluids killing their prey from the inside out on a random Tuesday night? No, not at all. But here we are. u.u

When the brainrot got worse, the anime and manga yielded superficial results. So, I'm glad the JoJo World Event gave us a bit more. In a Twitter translation of the La Squadra info, Formaggio was described as an insightful opportunist and aware of his comrades' deficits (condensed from image below). Good, because I'm going to need my emotional support hitman now. 🫴/lh

Not gonna lie, Formaggio gave me "annoying jock" vibes initially when I took everything that I've mentioned into consideration. But seeing that he does pay more attention to others than they believe is somewhat... hmmm, comforting. In all earnesty, I would trust Formaggio to be a good judge of character or a human lie detector.

This part's not important, but I don't like the majority of his design. In the manga, he's given orange hair, and while I understand his name means "cheese," the grey in the anime helps bring contrast from the rest of his outfit that focuses on a red top and brown pants.

Like his Stand, he's very unassuming, but there's this slow burn effect that endeared this character to me. Formaggio still isn't my favorite among La Squadra, but I think about him a lot sometimes. u.u

⭐️ My work is for entertainment and personal purposes. Do not take, translate, repost, or use it for profit. Don't take it seriously.

[dailyanarchistposts]

The Sobibór Uprising

At Sobibór I am witnessing the tools of the modern age — trains, assembly lines, and gas engines — used by the Germans to efficiently murder thousands of people on any given day. And yet how new is this really? The primitive whips used by the Germans are no different from those used by brutal slave masters for thousands of years. —Philip Bialowitz

On the surface, Sobibór resembled a quaint frontier town complete with a pharmacist, tailor’s shop, mining cars, and cabins marked with names like “Merry Flea” and “Swallow’s Nest.” Sunflowers and geraniums were carefully planted everywhere, particularly along the trail that led to the north end of the camp, which was signed as the “Road To Heaven.”[203] Underneath this deceptive veneer (one specifically designed to calm prisoners), was a nightmarish reality and a stunningly efficient extermination camp. Unlike the concentration camps — such as Ravensbrück, Dachau, and Buchenwald, which housed long-term prisoner populations — to arrive at the doorsteps of an extermination camp like Sobibór, Treblinka, or Chelmno meant that you were either being put into the gas chambers or being put to work filling them (Auschwitz held the unique position of operating as both a concentration camp and an extermination camp for the later years of the war). At any given time the SS had a crew of one hundred to seven hundred Jewish workers operating every aspect of Sobibór; they were overseen by Capos from their midst, who were in turn overseen by hundreds of Ukrainian guards, who were themselves subservient to the German SS. Over the course of its nineteen months of operation, these workers were made to facilitate the deaths of over 250,000 Jews, while also tending to the daily needs of their oppressors.[204] For the SS and Ukrainian guards overseeing this operation, entertainment often took the most twisted forms: prisoners would be force-fed sand until they couldn’t walk and then paraded around the camp; forced to climb trees that were then chopped down; forced to stand at attention while Barry the dog chewed off pieces of their genitals and buttocks; forced to watch as living babies were held by their legs and smashed around like pieces of meat before being tossed into the mining cars for cremation.[205] Every train that rolled into the station would bring a new transport of thousands of people who would receive a cunningly reassuring welcome speech and then be marched directly into the gas chambers. Those who worked at the train yard unloading and preparing transports for gassing were the last faces that these groups of (mostly unsuspecting) people would see. While lining them up, shaving their heads, and sending them down the “Road to Heaven,” they were to inform the newcomers: “This is a work camp. The food is good and the work easy. There’s nothing to worry about.”[206] Often, that would be the last words uttered before the chamber doors closed and a canister of Zyklon B was dropped in from the ceiling.

By 1943, the desire for co-ordinated vengeance and escape had been fomenting among workers at Sobibór for some time, and many connections were formed based on mutual desires for revolt. While renegade escapes had been attempted, few succeeded, and the toll of collective punishment was vast. No one had conceived of a plan that could overthrow the camp or allow for mass escape, until September when a transport arrived and brought into the camp several Russian-Jewish workers who had both military and partisan experience. The small network of camp conspirators quickly developed contacts with one of the Russians, Aleksander “Sasha” Pecherskii, whose recalcitrant attitude and strategic mind earned him a great deal of respect and leadership among the rebels.[207] Sasha agreed to offer leadership to the rebels, and after several highly secretive meetings between fewer than a dozen conspirators, a plan was set in motion to liberate all six hundred prisoners. After at least one delay due to unpredictable conditions, the revolt was initiated on October 14, 1943. The first phase of the plan, which was relatively successful, was to lure key German officers into private settings and discreetly kill them. Upon entering the room where the “shoe fitting” or “valuable leather jacket” was promised, the guard would be attacked with hand-made axes and knives while others worked nearby to cover the sound of screams. Eleven of Sobibór’s top functionaries were killed in this way between 3:30 and 5:00 pm, and their weapons taken into rebel hands.[208] During that time, an inmate with knowledge of electrical systems was able to disconnect the lights and telephones to the whole camp.[209] The second part of the plan required all inmates to assemble for the afternoon roll call, gather into marching formation, and simply walk out of the front gate with a sympathetic Capo at their helm. The idea was that without the commanders around to give orders, a moment of confusion would allow the inmates to get far enough past the gate so as to scramble into the nearby forests and avoid the minefields all around the camp. The roll call was initiated early, piquing the suspicions of some guards. The plan quickly fell apart, and what ensued was a murderous chaos.

Ukrainian guards fired from towers with heavy machine guns, while the pistols that rebels had appropriated earlier in the day meekly fired back. Some inmates set fires around the buildings hoping to burn the camp to the ground, while others rushed towards the camp armory to find more weapons.[210] Within minutes, the inmates were massively overpowered and frantic escape became the only thinkable option. Inmates rushed to climb, cut, or collapse the barbed wire fence (many died tangled there) and flee across the heavily-mined field towards the forest. Those who survived this mad dash did so only because a path had been cleared of mines by those who ran before them. Upon reaching the forest, the rebels faced a host of other challenges including starvation and being ratted out by local farmers. Jewish partisan groups represented an ideal opportunity to continue the battle against the Nazis, while those who stumbled into the midst of Polish partisan groups report being robbed and shot at.[211]

Of the roughly 650 inmates in the camp on the day of the revolt, about 365 tried to escape; those who remained in the camp were killed in the days after. Of those who attempted to escape, 185 were killed by gunfire or landmines. Within ten days, an additional 107 had been recaptured and killed. Of the remaining one hundred at large, another twenty three were killed by non-Germans before the war ended, and several others died of illness.[212] Between forty and sixty participants in the uprising survived the war, which along with four others who had escaped earlier, are the only known survivors of Sobibór.[213] On the whole, this is considered the “greatest success of inmates in open resistance,” both in terms of the number of guards killed and the number of successful escapees.[214] It also brought an end to the mass extermination at Sobibór, as days later the SS demolished the buildings, cleaned the site, and planted over the whole area with pine trees.