#feed the fish in Versailles

[sneakypunmaster]

Who doesn’t speak to the fish?

What do you call a fish with no eyes? A fshhh!

I’m sorry @pillowspace but this is all I could think of when reading that part of chapter 4

[slashcrz]

closed starter for @bloodycrxwn

He was tired, but there was work to be done, and Zehab had remained busy with it. At the docks most days, other days, when there was little to do && responsibility ran bare, he was a ghost in the shadows of Versailles, or wandering the streets between pubs. Once, maybe twice, had he found himself waking late morning, among the rest of the rats thrown out into the night. He'd shower in the surf, and make the trek back from the village to the palace. Some of the staff, by now, had taken pity on the man; they would feed him information in exchange from sweets && treats brought back from the shoppes 'yonder, and then he'd be on his way. Today, however, he heard that Meredith && Robert had taken to the ponds && the fishing shacks of the far-off lakes, a ways from the palace. When pressed, and he learnt that Alistair was not an escort, he made his way to them. " May I join you? "

[alexandre-benois]

Versailles. Louis XIV is feeding fish, 1897, Alexandre Benois

Medium: chalk,charcoal,gouache,graphite,watercolor,cardboard

[boatboys]

What IS the Fleet's policy for birds nesting? There must be one, as the boats are the only place to land. Also I just learned that gulls are a protected species, as well as tasting terrible. (Do selkies eat gulls?) Are there mutant birds in the future (or fish, a la Springfield?)

To collate the discussion of authors: gulls are largely thought of as a nuisance, and Sanitation guidelines mean that there are definitely areas of ships, especially larger cruisers that play important Fleet roles, where birds are absolutely not allowed to nest.

That said, as the boats get smaller the rules kind of stop applying and if you want to let a full family of geese nest on the deck of your residential ship that is nobody's fault but your own. Inversely, as ships get bigger and bigger (ie the Washington), remote spots pop up that are both too hard to shoo the birds away from and not important enough to try. Industrial Agriboats and garden/recreation boats like the Versailles would be more actively welcoming of (non-gull) birds, and the Versailles would be pleased to feed any reasonably attractive and #aesthetic bird who landed, to help cultivate the Atmosphere.

Selkies would pretty much only eat gulls if 1. very hungry or 2. apocalyptically high. Not a snack of choice.

There are mutant birds and fish in that sometimes you gut a fish and there are tumors in it, or sometimes you see a bird with an extra leg or fucked up beak or what have you. Most visible and dramatic mutations aren't viable for life, so.

[intothestacks]

Some Libraries Are More Special Than Others

There are four main types of libraries: public, school, academic, and special. Special libraries are, by far, the most diverse of the four. If it can be collected, there may be a special library that collects it. I wanted to share with you a glimpse into the weird and wonderful world of special libraries, so I went exploring.

Because they often house rather specific collections, special libraries are already kinda weird without even trying. The least strange kind of special library is probably the type that holds the kind of stuff you would probably expect to get collected, like manuscripts, historical documents, government natural science studies, rare texts, that sort of thing. 

Then we have some more unique collections which are pretty specific but still nowhere near strange by special library standards: music libraries that preserve cultures and genres, fashion libraries owned by top designers to preserve the history of their work (often complete with samples of the finished product), botany and biology libraries to preserve specimens for research, and so on.

Then there are the sparkling gems in the weirdness crown of special libraries. The properly random stuff that makes you double-take and go “Wait, what?”

Here are three of my favourites:

1. Sourdough Starters

For those who aren’t big into baking, sourdough starters are the live culture mixed in with the dough to give sourdough its distinctive taste. Once you get your starter, well, started, so long as you feed it daily and make sure it’s kept in the right conditions you’ve got a starter that can last you generations.

That’s what they collect at Puratos Sourdough Library in St. Vith, Belgium. The library was founded in 2013 and as of April 2020 it has around 125 jars in its collection. Two of those samples come from Canada: one from Blackbird Bakery in Toronto, and another a 120-year-old family starter from the Yukon. They’re using the samples to try to identify the microbes that exist in different starters from different places using different food sources for their cultures to better understand how starters work.

Curious about what a sourdough library would look like? You can take a virtual tour of the library here.

2. Perfume

Osmothèque, the only perfume library in history, holds over 4,000 scents, 400 of which are no longer produced (some of which date back to the 1880s!). You can visit it if you’re ever in Versailles; they have several different educational presentations on the history of perfume-making if that’s something you’re curious about. The main goals of the library are to archive and protect formulas for posterity as well as for research into the history and evolution of perfume-making.

3. 2D & 3D Images of Fish Anatomy Made Using an MRI Scanner

The Digital Fish Library contains 2D and 3D images of 276 species of fish (as of September 9 2020) made with a high resolution MRI scanner. The library was started to provide researchers with a way to describe the anatomy of fish without having to destroy the specimen by taking it apart.

Though created with researchers in mind, the database the images are stored in is open to the public to use for free as well. 

[underthewingsofthblackeagle]

The Murderess of the Grunewald (20): Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (9): Sharing Joy and Suffering (6b)

“Kreidefelsen Rügen” / ”Chalk Cliffs of Rügen” by tlemens

Previously

Sunday night, Pentecost 2020, two days after Claire's release from prison

         The afternoon had passed by in flight. After settling on the old tree trunk, Claire wanted to let Bismarck off the leash. But Jamie held her back.

          "That's not possible, Claire."

          "Why not? He does not run away from us here! "

          "No, but it is forbidden to let dogs run free in a national park or in a nature reserve."

          "German laws," she sighed.

          "Yes, German laws," he sighed mockingly. Both started to laugh loud and heartily. Bismarck, who had been looking back and forth between them during the brief conversation, joined in yapping. Then he tried to jump onto the tree trunk where Claire and Jamie were sitting. But the trunk was round and smooth and so he slipped off again and again. Finally, Claire took pity on him. She picked him up and put him next to her. Meanwhile, Jamie had unpacked two large bottles of water from his backpack. The sandwiches they had bought at the fish market at the port of Lohme followed. Bismarck did not immediately see the rolls, but he smelled them and of course, he was no longer in his place. He jumped down from the trunk on which he eagerly had wanted to sit a few minutes ago. With a look that left no doubt that he had not received a single meal for weeks and was near starvation, he sat down right in front of his master's feet.

          "The fish on this sandwich is called Bismarck herring," Jamie said, "but that does not mean it's your sandwich."

          He held another sandwich in Claire's direction and looked at her questioningly. She nodded to him and took it. With the words:        

          "Ok, time to feed the predator!"

          Jamie grabbed the backpack again and got another, but smaller, water bottle out of it. He put a drinking device for animals on it and let Bismarck drink. Then he took a bag of dry dog food from the backpack and put it down in front of the pet. It only took a few moments for Bismarck to finish his meal. Jamie let him drink again, then grabbed his sandwich and began to eat. Bismarck made another attempt to get some of Jamie's lunch, but one look from his master was enough. The dog trotted back to Claire's side and lay down at her feet. Maybe this human had a little more compassion for a starving dog and if she did not give him anything voluntarily, maybe some crumbs would accidentally fall to the ground ... But nothing happened. When both had eaten the first sandwich and drank again, Jamie took two more sandwiches out of the backpack. Bismarck watched the scene closely. Jamie finished his second sandwich with only some big bites, but none of it had fallen off for him. Claire chewed slower and took longer for the second part of her lunch. As Jamie closed his eyes and stretched out to the sun, she quickly tore off a bit of the sandwich and dropped it right in front of Bismarck's snout. Only seconds later, the piece of bread - on which to Bismarck's joy was even left a little butter and a scrap of egg - had disappeared in his long snout.

          "Claire?" Jamie asked in a tone that reminded her of the character of a strict teacher in a 1950s film.

          "Yes, Dr. Fraser?" she asked, putting as much innocence in the tone of her voice as possible.

          Jamie opened his eyes and looked at her:

          "If you secretly feed the dog, then you should stop it from smacking. He reveals himself and you."

          "Dr. Fraser, do you remember? You are my lawyer, not my prosecutor."

          He did not answer, but pulled her close and kissed her. Claire took Bismarck and put him back on the log next to her. Then they all reached out to the sun and enjoyed the gentle breeze of the sea.

“Hühnergott (adder stone), Fundort: Unterhalb des Königsstuhls, Insel Rügen (found on location underneath the “King’s Seat” at the island of Rügen)” byCharlie1965nrw at the German language Wikipedia [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)]

         An hour later they started their way back. As they walked along the beach, Claire collected a number of little things. At first, there were adder stones, then little colorful pebbles. Bismarck, who ran before her, danced around her every time she stopped for a new find. He would have liked to sniff out every part that caught her attention. Claire would have liked to know what the little black guy was thinking in those moments. Most likely, she would never know. But one thing was obvious: Bismarck seemed very sympathetic to her behavior. Maybe he saw in her curiosity and in her "hunting instinct" a small affinity? Each time Claire's hands were full, Jamie had to turn his back so she could pack her newly found treasures, which included more and more shells, into the backpack. When she came back for the first time with some small stones that looked like amber, he held her back.

“Bernstein * Ostseeküste” / “Amber * Baltic Sea” by mixmax9999

         "Claire! No! Do not do that! You can not just put that in the backpack!"

         "Why can’t I have this? It's amber! Or is there a strange German law speaking against it?" she asked startled and slightly annoyed.

         "You can take it with you, of course, but you have to put it in the metal box, which is in the outermost compartment of the backpack."

         "Why?"

         She looked at him blankly.

         "Because it could also be White Phosphorus."

         "White Phosphorus? But this stone is yellowish, almost brownish!"

         "Yes, but when White Phosphorus weathers, it also takes on those colors and then looks a bit like Bernstein."

          Jamie had put the backpack down and taken a metal box from the outermost pocket. He opened it and held it out to Claire. She put in the brown and yellowish stones she had collected. Once again she looked at him questioningly:

          "I don’t understand. Why should it be here on the beach ... "

          "That has something to do with the last war. On the island of Usedom, two hours by car east of here, during the last war, there was a so-called 'experimental station of the army'. It belonged to the German Wehrmacht and was under the command of the chief of the rocket department in the Army Weapons Department, a major general named Walter Dornberger. The technical management was in the hands of Wernher von Braun. I’m sure, you have heard of him before. After the war, the Americans resettled him and 120 other German specialists who worked there to the United States. His work and that of the other specialists became the basis for the later US missile and space program."

          Claire's eyes widened and Jamie took this as an indication that she was interested in more information.

"British Attack Plan for Operation Hydra" Extracts from the account of the raid on Peenemunde on 17 - 18 August 1943 by Captain John Searby, the Master Bomber on the raid. (AIR 20/4040) Operation Hydra, the raid on Peenemünde. Targets shown are: Experimental station B: Factory workshops C: Power plant D: Unidentified machinery E: Experimental facilities F: Sleeping and living quarters G: Airfield * by RAF photographer [public domain] via Wikimedia

         "In the military complex Peenemünde on Usedom the first functional large rocket with the name 'Aggregat 4' was developed and tested. After World War I, the Treaty of Versailles forbade Germany the construction of large canons. However, it said nothing about rockets. So they developed and built them. And von Braun succeeded in what no other human had done before. On October 3, 1942, the ballistic missile he developed completed its first successful flight, making it the first man-made object to penetrate into the outer space. That's why Peenemünde on Usedom is also known as the ‘birthplace of space travel'. The Nazis used the rocket, which they later called V2, as a so-called retaliatory weapon against Great Britain. They bombarded London and targets in southern England. Towards the end of the war, they also attacked Antwerp and Liege. On the night from the 17th to the 18th August 1943, Britain then launched the 'Operation Hydra'. Their air force bombarded Peenemünde with phosphorus bombs. At that time, an estimated 4,000 bombs were dropped. But not all bombs hit their targets ashore during this operation. Many landed in the waters of the Baltic Sea. Since then, they are corroding in the salt water. And in doing so, they release their contents, the dangerous White Phosphorus. But that's not all. After the end of the war, the Allies also decided that 85 percent of chemical weapons found in Germany should be sunk in the sea. Some time ago I saw an interview with an expert from the explosive ordnance clearance service on television. He said that it is estimated that up to 1.3 million tons of phosphorus-containing munitions are at the bottom of the North Sea and 300,000 tons in the Baltic Sea. As said, these weapons corrode and release their deadly cargo. Like amber, White Phosphorus has a low density. That's why it is flushed on the coast with the flow like amber. Here it settles down like amber, shells, adder stones or thunderbolts. White Phosphorus is highly toxic. Only 50 mg is enough to poison a human with deadly results. However, it takes a few days for that to take effect. But that is not the only danger emanating from it. Normally, it ignites when it is washed ashore at 20° C and then it burns off easily. However, if you accidentally collect White Phosphorus at lower temperatures or if it has just been washed ashore and you let it dry in the pocket of your jacket, for example, it connects with oxygen and begins to burn at a temperature of 1,300° C. You can only fight these flames with sand or a special fire extinguishers. Water is absolutely useless. The phosphorus in the firebombs was also mixed with natural rubber, creating a sticky, burning mixture that can’t be stripped off. It eats through the clothes into the body and burns the flesh down to the bone. In the past few years, there was a growing number of reports that people found old White Phosphorus during walks on the beach instead of amber. They then put the pieces in a jacket or a trouser pocket. But instead of bringing their finds home, they caught fire. Fortunately, some went without injuries. But others suffered severe burns. That's why it makes sense to transport stones that look like amber in a closed container, preferably made of metal. If necessary, you can also throw it away."

          "How do you know all that?"

          "Well, I've read a few books about the Baltic Sea and its islands. On the other hand, I told you that I'm a junkie when it comes to documentaries."

          Claire nodded. They had already talked about Jamie's interest in TV documentaries during their car ride to Rügen.

          "Today we have," Jamie looked at his smartphone, "18° C. That's not very cold, but it's still safer if we transport the stones in the metal box."

        He opened the box he had taken from his backpack again and held it out to Claire. She nodded and let some more stones she had collected while they were walking and talking slip into it.

“Rügen - Muscheln” / “Rügen - Shells”  by Zteven

          Then they continued on their way and arrived shortly afterward at the stairs at the 'Kieler Bach'. After a short break, emptying their drinking bottles, they began the ascent. When they got back up on the mainland, they hiked to the bus stop 'Welterbeforum', drove one stop on the bus, and then got on the bus that took them to the parking lot where they had parked their car.

          "Well," Jamie asked when they sat down, "do we want to go to dinner somewhere or do you want to go home?"

          Claire stretched.

          "The day was beautiful, Jamie," she pulled him close and kissed him on the cheek. "But I'm exhausted. Let's go back. Or don’t we have anything to eat at home?"

          "Sure," he replied as he started the engine and slowly drove off the parking lot, "lots of food. The whole freezer and the fridge are full."

          Fifteen minutes later, they reached their holiday home. Jamie let Claire in first and then he released Bismarck from the transport box. When Claire entered the house, Adso, who had obviously missed her, ran to her meowing. Bismarck, who ran into the house shortly thereafter, was probably not so much missed by Adso. Because he was first touched with the cat's claws and backed away. Claire went to the bathroom to freshen up. When she returned to the living room sometime later, Jamie had already ignited the fire in the fireplace. On the coffee table, some candles were burning, giving a warm glow. Next to them stood a jug of fresh tea and two cups.

          "Come here, sit down and rest a little," Jamie said. He came out of the kitchen and had a bowl of biscuits in his hand. Claire poured tea into the cups and handed one to Jamie. She drank and then grabbed some biscuits.

          "Are you very hungry?" he asked after she had finished the third biscuit and poured tea in his and her cup again.

          "Not so much," she replied and her answer was accompanied by a hearty yawn. Slowly, she let herself glide from the vertical to the horizontal and thus to the comfortable couch. Adso, who had already left his sleeping place on the windowsill a few minutes earlier and had sat down next to the coffee table, watched her attentively.

          "What would do you say," Jamie asked, "if I let you rest a little while I'm taking care of our dinner?"

          "I would say that's a very good idea, Dr. Fraser. But ..."

        "But?"

        "But I feel a little guilty. All the time you do something for me and I just lay here lazy ..."

        "Claire," he said softly as he gently stroked her hair, "you have gone through six exhausting months ..."

        "Says the man who worked for me six months around the clock," she answered, rolling her eyes.

        "That was my job and I got paid for it."

        "Ok, Dr. Fraser. The victory in the case of 'Fraser against the conscience of Claire Beauchamp' goes to you as well. I'm just too exhausted to engage in a legal discussion."

        "Good," he said with a smile. Then he got up, covered Claire with a light blanket, and headed for the kitchen. He passed Bismarck lying on his large beige dog cushion. The animal had its legs stretched out and snored audibly. Jamie smiled. The little greedy fur monster was too exhausted to follow him into the kitchen. As he quietly closed the kitchen door, Adso crept out from under the coffee table and sprang onto the sofa, slipping under the blanket at Claire's feet.

        An hour later, Claire woke up. On the way to the bathroom, she saw that the dining table was already set. As she passed the kitchen door, she heard Jamie hum. She could not tell what song it was. As always, he hummed completely free of all musicality. But in her mind's eye, she could see him smiling, and once again she wondered how this man had saved himself such humor tough the many battles that his professional life had brought upon him as she had observed first hand. 

         One hour later, minestrone and lasagna were eaten, the table cleared and the dishes stored in the dishwasher. Claire had taken a shower while Jamie and Bismarck went for a little evening walk. Afterwards, she had put herself in pajamas and dressing gown in front of the fireplace. Adso, who had been waiting for his chance, was walking slowly towards her and then lay down on the floor right in front of Claire. The request: "Pat me!" was obvious. When Jamie, also in pajamas and dressing gown, came out of the bathroom, Claire didn’t look at him. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her. As he tried to brush a strand of her hair behind the ear, he saw it: A trickle of tears made its way down her cheeks.          “Claire, mo chridhe,” he asked concerned, “what has happened?”

         She looked at him, her eyes red and full of tears, unable to say a word. So he took her in his arms and rocked her softly at his chest.  Later, he would not be able to say how long he had held her in his arms, stroked gently over her back and hair, whispering reassuring words in Gaelic. But it seemed to him like a little eternity. When she broke away from him and looked at him, she tried to say something, but she could only sob and again a stream of hot tears poured down her face. Carefully, Jamie dried her face with the hem of his dressing gown. Bismarck had come running when Claire started to cry. He had looked at her with wide eyes and then carefully teased her knee with his long nose. When she saw him, she started to sob again. Jamie looked at the dog and then pointed it back to his dog pillow with one hand. The animal went away but lay down on the big cushions so that he could keep an eye on what was happening in front of the fireplace. Jamie had noticed that the little body was tense. Bismarck would immediately be ready to jump up and run back to Claire to console or defend her. But as much as the dog's reaction pleased him, now it was time to focus solely on Claire. When she looked at him again, she seemed to have calmed down a bit.

         "Jamie," she began, her voice still uncertain, "it was such a wonderful day. I enjoyed every minute, every moment with you. But tomorrow we have to go back and ... I'm scared ... afraid that this is just a nice dream that will burst like a bubble when we get back to Berlin."

          Before he could answer, she went on:

          "And I'm scared ... I'm scared that I am not good for you ..."

          "What? Who says you are not good enough for me?" he asked in surprise.

          "No, I said I'm afraid that I will not do you good. My whole life is like that ... so dysfunctional, so out of order, so in confusion ... your life ... is just the contrary ..."

          Jamie laughed out loud and Claire looked at him in surprise.

          "Oh, Claire, my life has not always been so and even now not all is in order."

          He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment.

          "I think it's time I tell you more about me. But not now. We will do that tomorrow. Now we go to bed and rest. Only one thing I’ll tell you: If you don’t want to go home, that's no problem. I emailed Tessa and asked if we could have the house for the rest of the week, and she said it was okay."

          Claire's eyes widened and a little smile became recognizable on her face. Jamie kissed her on her forehead. Then he turned to the coffee table and blew out the candles. Claire had gotten up, but before she knew it, Jamie had taken her into his arms and carried her to the first floor. Bismarck and Adso followed

[recentanimenews]

Cooking With Anime: Golden Wind and That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime New Year's Cocktails!

What a year 2018 has been, amirite? I mean, we had the Olympic Winter Games this year. Black Panther came out this year. I travelled to Japan, Indonesia, and Australia (!!!). I wrote a book (!!!!!). I made MERCH (!!!!!!!!!!!!) (sorta). I got to meet bunches of you guys at Fanime and Crunchyroll Expo, gave some panels, cosplayed as Marie Antoinette from Rose of Versailles, and put on a five-course anime themed dinner where I got to meet lots of cool people! I don't know about you, but I've been BUSY this year.

  What's more impressive than that are all the fantastic anime we've gotten to watch this year. We've received the gifts of Banana Fish, Mo Dao Zu Shi, Laid-Back Camp, MEGALOBOX, Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Senpai and MORE! Seriously, those were just some highlights for me, but we've had so much great stuff come out this year; I can't wait for the Anime Awards to recap the entire affair. Until then, we'll have to settle for ringing in the new year with some drinks themed after top shows of 2018. And what better way to do that than by honoring perhaps two of the best shows this year: Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind and That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime. 

    Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind carries on the story of the longtime fued between Jonathan Joestar (and his family) and Dio Brando (and HIS family) by following Dio's son, Giorno, on his quest to become a mob boss. The show is both hype and hilarious. It's colorful, melodramatic, but never fails to carry a certain classy flare with every muscle flex. That's why the Golden Wind cocktail, a champagne coctail combined with Elderflower liqueur and gold lustre dust, is the perfect drink to epitomize the show. Not only is it golden (HAH roll credits on the drink), it combines a fruity, sweet punch with the classic flavors of champagne, one of the fanciest of all alcoholic beverages. Garnished with a lemon peel twist, emblamatic of Giorno's magnificent hair, this is truly a cocktail for those looking to class up their New Year's Eve. 

     Then there's That Time I Was Reincarnated as a Slime, an isekai anime that many were sure would be a total flop. I distinctly remember talking to some other creators at Crunchyroll Expo who were VERY on the fence about this show because it was YET ANOTHER isekai, and besides the title didn't seem promising. Then everything changed when the show actually aired! It's funny, sweet, and silly without being gauche. So, the Slime cocktail tries to encapsulate that. Outwardly it's...not the NICEST looking drink. A layer of blue "slime" floats over a bright yellow mixture of amaretto and sweet and sour mix (a knock off amaretto sour, essentially), garnished with a gaudy cherry and lemon slice. The drink tastes, however, exceptional. The amaretto sour base is fruity and tart without being too sweet or sour. The spiked "slime" layer provides for a surprising twist- it's fun to drink and melts in your mouth, besides tinging the drink a faint gren shade. If you're looking to shock your friends with something a bit different to ring in the New Year's, this is the drink for you. 

    Whether you're going for classy or flashy this New Year's, whip up some novelty cocktails for your friend and spend those last few hours of 2018 enjoying some of the best anime this year had to offer. Watch the video below to see the full process.

      Ingredients for the Cocktails

  Slime Cocktail

-1/4 cup blue Jello powder

-1 cup boiling water

-1/2 cup clear soda

-1/2 cup vodka

-1.5 oz Amaretto

-1 oz Sweet and Sour Mix

-Cherry and Lemon for garnish

  Golden Wind Cocktail

-1 oz St. Germaine's Liquer

-1/8 tsp Gold Luster Dust

-Prosecco

-Lemon Peel

    To Make the Cocktails

  1. Slime Cocktail: Combine boiling water, jello, soda, and vodka. Stir until Jello is dissolved, then place in fridge about 6 hours until firmed up and "slime"-like. Place a few spoonfuls in the bottom of a martini glass. Add amaretto and sweet and sour mix to a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled, and strain out over the "slime" Garnish with cherry and lemon slice. 

  2. Golden Wind Cocktail: Add St. Germaine's to the bottom of a champagne flute. Tap in some gold luster dust. Stir together, before topping off with Prosecco. Garnish with a twisted lemon peel. 

    I hope you enjoyed this post! Check in next week for another recipe, and to check out more anime food recipes, visit my blog. If you have any questions or comments, leave them below! I recently got a Twitter, so you can follow me at @yumpenguinsnack if you would like, and DEFINITELY feel free to send me food requests! My Tumblr is yumpenguinsnacks.tumblr.com. Find me on Youtube for more video tutorials! Enjoy the food, and if you decide to recreate this dish, show me pics! :D

  In case you missed it, check out our last dish: Hot Tub Tamago from Kakuriyo-Bed and Breakfast for Spirits-. What other famous anime dishes would you like to see Emily make on COOKING WITH ANIME?

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[scienceblogtumbler]

Methane emissions climb

Global emissions of methane have reached the highest levels on record. Increases are being driven primarily by growth of emissions from coal mining, oil and natural gas production, cattle and sheep ranching, and landfills.

Between 2000 and 2017, levels of the potent greenhouse gas barreled up toward pathways that climate models suggest will lead to 3-4 degrees Celsius of warming before the end of this century. This is a dangerous temperature threshold at which scientists warn that natural disasters, including wildfires, droughts and floods, and social disruptions such as famines and mass migrations become almost commonplace. The findings are outlined in two papers published July 14 in Earth System Science Data and Environmental Research Letters by researchers with the Global Carbon Project, an initiative led by Stanford University scientist Rob Jackson.

In 2017, the last year when complete global methane data are available, Earth’s atmosphere absorbed nearly 600 million tons of the colorless, odorless gas that is 28 times more powerful than carbon dioxide at trapping heat over a 100-year span. More than half of all methane emissions now come from human activities. Annual methane emissions are up 9 percent, or 50 million tons per year, from the early 2000s, when methane concentrations in the atmosphere were relatively stable.

In terms of warming potential, adding this much extra methane to the atmosphere since 2000 is akin to putting 350 million more cars on the world’s roads or doubling the total emissions of Germany or France. “We still haven’t turned the corner on methane,” said Jackson, a professor of Earth system science in Stanford’s School of Earth, Energy & Environmental Sciences (Stanford Earth).

Growing sources of methane

Globally, fossil fuel sources and cows are twin engines powering methane’s upward climb. “Emissions from cattle and other ruminants are almost as large as those from the fossil fuel industry for methane,” Jackson said. “People joke about burping cows without realizing how big the source really is.”

The global methane budget for 2017 based on data from satellite sensors. Orange shows sources related to human activities; green shows natural sources and sinks for the gas; hatched orange-green shows sources of methane linked to both human activities and nature, such as wildfires and burning biomass. Click image to enlarge. (Image credit: Jackson et al. 2020 Env. Res. Lett.)

Throughout the study period, agriculture accounted for roughly two-thirds of all methane emissions related to human activities; fossil fuels contributed most of the remaining third. However, those two sources have contributed in roughly equal measure to the increases seen since the early 2000s.

Methane emissions from agriculture rose to 227 million tons of methane in 2017, up nearly 11 percent from the 2000–2006 average. Methane from fossil fuel production and use reached 108 million tons in 2017, up nearly 15 percent from the earlier period.

Amid the coronavirus pandemic, carbon emissions plummeted as manufacturing and transportation ground to a halt. “There’s no chance that methane emissions dropped as much as carbon dioxide emissions because of the virus,” Jackson said. “We’re still heating our homes and buildings, and agriculture keeps growing.”

Emissions around the globe

Methane emissions rose most sharply in Africa and the Middle East; China; and South Asia and Oceania, which includes Australia and many Pacific islands. Each of these three regions increased emissions by an estimated 10 to 15 million tons per year during the study period. The United States followed close behind, increasing methane emissions by 4.5 million tons, mostly due to more natural gas drilling, distribution and consumption.

“Natural gas use is rising quickly here in the U.S. and globally,” Jackson said. “It’s offsetting coal in the electricity sector and reducing carbon dioxide emissions, but increasing methane emissions in that sector.” The U.S. and Canada are also producing more natural gas. “As a result, we’re emitting more methane from oil and gas wells and leaky pipelines,” said Jackson, who is also a senior fellow at Stanford’s Woods Institute for the Environment and Precourt Institute for Energy.

Europe stands out as the only region where methane emissions have decreased over the last two decades, in part by tamping down emissions from chemical manufacturing and growing food more efficiently. “Policies and better management have reduced emissions from landfills, manure and other sources here in Europe. People are also eating less beef and more poultry and fish,” said Marielle Saunois of the Université de Versailles Saint-Quentin in France, lead author of the paper in Earth System Science Data.

Possible solutions

Tropical and temperate regions have seen the biggest jump in methane emissions. Boreal and polar systems have played a lesser role. Despite fears that melting in the Arctic may unlock a burst of methane from thawing permafrost, the researchers found no evidence for increasing methane emissions in the Arctic – at least through 2017.

Human driven emissions are in many ways easier to pin down than those from natural sources. “We have a surprisingly difficult time identifying where methane is emitted in the tropics and elsewhere because of daily to seasonal changes in how waterlogged soils are,” said Jackson, who also leads a group at Stanford working to map wetlands and waterlogged soils worldwide using satellites, flux towers and other tools.

According to Jackson and colleagues, curbing methane emissions will require reducing fossil fuel use and controlling fugitive emissions such as leaks from pipelines and wells, as well as changes to the way we feed cattle, grow rice and eat. “We’ll need to eat less meat and reduce emissions associated with cattle and rice farming,” Jackson said, “and replace oil and natural gas in our cars and homes.”

Feed supplements such as algae may help to reduce methane burps from cows, and rice farming can transition away from permanent waterlogging that maximizes methane production in low-oxygen environments. Aircraft, drones and satellites show promise for monitoring methane from oil and gas wells. Jackson said, “I’m optimistic that, in the next five years, we’ll make real progress in that area.”

source https://scienceblog.com/517346/methane-emissions-climb/

[oldfilmsflicker]

I saw a TON of films at Pordenone Silent this year, so I’m doing them all in one post. 

new-to-me #286 - 484:

Three Days To Live (1924)

Calino veut être cow-boy

Pendaison à Jefferson City

La prairie en feu

Cent dollars mor ou vif

Le revolver matrimonial

The Scapegrace

La Baronne Raymonde de LaRoche, aviatrice

L'aviatrice mademoiselle Marvingt, décolle de mourmelon

Madame Hélène Dutrieu, aviatrice vers 1915

La vie aérienne sur l'aérodrome d'Orly, mademoiselle Adrienne Bolland a battu son propre record en exécutant 212 fois le looping

L'autre aile

The World And The Women (1916)

Synnöve Solbakken (A Norway Lass) (1919)

How Bridget Served The Salad Undressed

How Bridget Made The Fire

The Finish of Bridget McKeen

La course à la saucisse

Victoire à ses nerfs

Le rêve des marmitons

Her First Biscuits

Lucky Jim (1909)

Het Onwillige Dienstmeisje (The Reluctant Housemaid)

Le signe de Pétronille

Een Dierenvriend (Animal Lover)

Are Waitresses Safe?

Shima No Musume (The Island Girl)

Call Of The Cuckoo

Don't Tell Everything

Le contremaître incendaire

L'emigrante (1915)

Fauno

Feeding The Pigeons In St. Mark's Square

Grand Canal, Venice

Panoramic View of the Vegetable Market, Venice

Neapolitan Dance At The Ancient Forum of Pompeii

Panoramic View of the Frere Camp Taken The Front of an Armored Train

Menai Bridge: The Irish Daily Mail From Euston Entering The Tubular Bridge

Warships At Sunset

Amann The Great Impersonator

Prestwych Platform Scene

Fat Ox 1897. Car of the 'She-Cats' - The Hats

Vienna Street Scene

Panorama of Pompeii

Fun On A Clothesline

Kavirondongrene Paa Fisk (Kavirondo Tribe Members Fishing)

Der Gelbe Schein (The Yellow Ticket)

Lesniye Liudi (Forest People)

Tungusi (Tungus)

Le bateau de Léontine

Les ficelle de Léontine

Léontine en apprentissage

Ventilateur breveté

Les malices de Léontine

Amour et musique

Un ravalement précipité

Rosalie et son phonographe

Rosalie et Léontine vont au théâtre

Rosalie emménage

Léontine garde la maison

Fiore Selvaggio

Tvä Hungrande Städer Vid Donau (Two Starving Cities on the Danube)

1917 Val Duchesse

La Paura Degli Aeromobili Nemici

Les ruines des ville d'armentières lens et la bassée

La vie reprend dans les régions libérées

Massaiernes Menn Og Kvinner (Maasai Men and Women)

Fante-Anne (Gypsy Anne)

Mieux valait la nuit

Amma, le voyeur aveugle

Le coeur et les yeux

[Messter-Woche:] Modeschau Im Zoo

Water Lilies (1911)

Mr. Myope chasse

Le mensonge de Jean le Manchot

Blindeninstituut En Ooglijdersgasthuis Te Bandoeng (Insitute For the Blind Home in Bandung)

A Flash of Light

Trappola

Now We're In The Air

The Reckless Age

Schatten: Eine Nächtliche Halluzination (Warning Shadows)

Die Bergkatze (The Wildcat)

Le railway de la morte

Face au taureau

Nel Paese dell'Oro

Onésime sur le sentier de la guerre

Kikujunegrene Danser (Kikuyu Tribe Members Dancing)

Captain F.E. Kleinschmidt's Artic Hunt

Il Baco Da Seta

La Guerra Italo-Turca

La Gloriosa Battaglia Del 12 Marzo A Begasi Nell'Oasi Delle Due Palme

The Victorious Battle For the Conquest of Mergheb, Africa

La Vita Dei Nostri Ascari Eritrei In Libia

Plotoni Nuotatori Della 3 Divisione Cavalleria Comandata Da S.A.R. IL Conte Di Torino

Sixième Bataille De L'Insonzo

Kaffeplantasje I Afrika/Kenya (Coffee Plantation In Kenya)

Aelita

Vem Dömer? (Love's Crucible)

Ménilmontant

Fièvre

Il Fiacre N. 13 (1917)

Viaggio In Caucaso E Persia

Daleko Na Sever (Far In The North)

The Right To Happiness

Mediolanum

24e chasseurs alpins: sauts d'obstacles

Danse au bivouac

Fête au village

Pompiers: alerte

Salut dans les vergues

Fête du palais-royal #1

Fête du palais-royal #2

Fête du palais-royal #3: re-enactment of scene from Notre-Dame de Paris

Panoramic Painting of the Battlefield

Military Parade at the Cour d'Honneur in Versailles

Panorama on the Creuse river #1

Dam on the Creuse river

Panorama on the Creuse river #2

Paper Manufacture

Journalists and Typographers In Editorial Office

Men Unloading A Train

Train Pulling Into A Factory

Carmen (1918)

Nebuvalyi Pokhid (An Unprecedented Campaign)

Tokyo No Yado (An Inn In Tokyo)

The Taming of Jane

An Up-To-Date Squaw

The Corporal's Daughter

The Night Rider

Patouillard a une femme jalouse

Lea Bambola

The Circus Imps

The Pouting Model

Living Pictures Production

Birth of the Pearl

Un duel après le bal

Spirit of '76

Combat sur la voie ferrée (1898)

Combat sur la voie ferrée (1899)

Mort de marat

Charlotte Corday (1908)

Death of Nelson

Les dernières cartouches (1897)

Les dernières cartouches (1899)

Les dernières cartouches / Bombardment d'une Miason

La fiancée du volontaire

Flagrant délit d'adultère

Le jugement de Phryné

Akt-Skulpturen

La vie et la passion de Jésus-Christ (1902)

Vie et passion de N.S. Jésus-Christ

La vie et la passion de Jésus-Christ (1897)

La nativité

Les cloches du soir

Rouget de lisle chantant la Marseillaise

What Are the Wild Waves Saying, Sister?

Waiting For Santa Claus

Le réveil de Chrysis

Le bain des dame de la cour

An Affair of Honor

The Spirit of His Forefathers

The Whisky of His Ancestors

Der Golem (1915)

Der Gang In Die Nacht

Il Carnevale Di Nizza

La Campana Dei Caduti Rovereto 24 Maggio 1925

Le femme rêvée

Glomdalsbruden (The Bride of Glomdal)

Sulla Vie Dell'Oro

Manden Uden Fremtid (The Man Without A Future)

Dawn (1928)

Lea In Ufficio

Lea Sui Pattini

Tilly's Party

Cunégonde trop curieuse

Cunégonde femme cochère

Onésime et la toilette de mademoiselle Badinois

Everybody's Doing It

She's A Prince

Thora Van Deken (A Mother's Fight)

La chasse aux signes

The World and Its Women

Antologia Filmati Neuropatologici Realizzati Dal Prof. Camillo Negro Con Robert Omegna

Med Bærerkaravene Gjennem Østrafika (By Caravan Through East Africa)

A Fool There Was (1915)

Mania. Die Geschichte Einer Zigarettenarbeiterin (Mania. The Story of a Cigarette Factory Worker)

Kara-Dag Zhemchuzhina Vostochnogo Kryma (Kara-Dag. The Pearl of Eastern Crimea)

Podvig Vo L'Dakh (Feat in the Ice)

Anna-Liisa

Seven Footprints To Satan

Après L'Incendie De Salonique, Août 1917

La croix rouge suisse accueille des réfugiés française en gare de bäle

La femme française pendant la guerre (1918)

Noël de guerre (1916)

Morænen (The House of Shadows)

The Deadlier Sex

le rosier miraculeux

The Student Prince in Old Heidelberg (1927)

Careers (1929)

I'll write a proper blog post about the experience and my favorite things I saw soon.

[topfygad]

Ingesting our way close to Vital West, Florida

A person of my favorite methods to understand a vacation spot is by simply just having the community delicacies. I mean who doesn’t get pleasure from having a gastronomic tour the place you get to stroll, speak, consume and drink your way via an area’s best places to eat, bars and culinary institutions?

Critical West Meals Excursions are one of the best-acknowledged food tour groups in the Florida Keys. They supply three principal food stuff and drink excursions all-around Critical West. But their Southernmost Food items Tour is the greatest excursion you can do if you want to consume like a regional and get a full knowledge of the island’s food stuff lifestyle.

In fifty percent an hour of arriving into Key West, we have been at Siboney Restaurant in which we ended up completely ready to meet our Important West foods tour information, Analise Smith.

Analise has Cuban heritage in her relatives so she was effectively qualified to teach us on the Cuban foodstuff scene in Essential West.

The Southernmost Meals Tour: Feeding on our way close to Critical West, Florida

El Siboney, Key West

El Siboney is a single of the most renowned Cuban dining places right here and has come to be anything of an establishment considering that it opened in 1984. You will discover El Siboney in the Old City and it is an unassuming purple brick developing, nonetheless continuously attracts in the crowds for its authentic Cuban cooking.

So, if you want to take in right here, critically contemplate reserving in advance.

The Southernmost Food Tour lasts three hours, but there is a whole lot of taking in to do. So Analise doesn’t mess about.

When our food stuff was becoming well prepared, she gave us a crash-class in how to drink Cuban espresso and the numerous approaches you can purchase it.

There’s the Cafecito or Café Cubano (served in a thimble-sized cup), a Café con leche (espresso with steamed milk), a Cortadito (served with a very small splash of steamed milk) or the Bucci (a strong shot of espresso that’s served with cane sugar.)

If there is additional than a single of you, you can go with the tradition of purchasing a Colada which is in essence an additional-large cup of the sweet Bucci, which you then share among a number of folks in the thimble-sized cups (see image underneath.)

Yet another Cuban tradition is also to order the ridiculously additional-ish pan Cubano (Cuban bread) and dunk it in your drink. Delish.

Cubans have a very sweet tooth, or as Analise claims, they are ‘sweet freaks’. So introducing sugar to the espresso is a given. If they talk to you whether or not you’d sugar, they’re really asking if you’d like even more sugar than what they instantly set in.

So you could be bouncing off the walls following tasting this. You have been warned!

The foods dish we try at El Siboney is the vintage roast pork, or Cuban Puerco Asadoas it’s recognised. If you read through my overview of Versailles in Miami, you will know that BC tried out a dish like this there. However, I have to say, this a single was tastier. It was served with white rice, fried plantain and a squeeze of contemporary lime, with a incredibly hot sauce on the facet. Delicious.

It was time to go on.

Badboy Burrito

Badboy Burrito, our up coming quit, is a hole-in-the-wall restaurant and bar. It’s below you’ll choose up what are arguably, the most effective tacos and ‘build-your-own’ burritos in Critical West. The extended queue claims it all.

It is a no-frills variety of position, so you pull up a chair outdoors, get a chilled consume and prepare to get your fingers messy. The Southernmost Foods Tour very encouraged we tried the fish taco. And for superior explanation. They’re designed utilizing ‘tile fish’, which are a single of the most sustainable fish you can consume in the Florida Keys.

Numerous persons are still unaware of this additional ‘environmentally friendly’ alternative of fish. And when I’d say it’s not bursting with flavour, it was surely livened up by the salsa verde, sour cream and cilantro. The govt chef at Badboy Burrito is really passionate about using the freshest components. So considerably so, they don’t even have freezers. You can warranty on ocean-to-plate top quality and you cannot beat the name both.

A bit of history and lifestyle

In in between all the having, Crucial West Food items Tours will make positive they fill you in on the a lot of cultural and historic spots of fascination you go on the way. On the Southernmost Meals Tour, Analise regaled us with all kinds of tales about Key West’s cigar-building record, the ‘shotgun houses’ in which factory employees lived, as well as the stories at the rear of the quite a few quirky retailers and properties you’ll obtain on the island, these types of as the Tomasita Seafood store.

Many thanks to its proximity to the Caribbean, Vital West was a big player in rum importation, even during America’s prohibition period.

And just after all our strolling, Analise determined it was time for a tipple – which takes us on to one of the island’s most well-known speakeasies, The Rum Bar.

The Rum Bar

I’m a huge admirer of rum, so it was a little disappointing that I was unable to make the most of this little bit, staying six months pregnant! But whether you’re consuming alcohol or not, The Rum Bar is an intriguing place to check out. You are sure to meet up with a quirky character or two.

You’ll find The Rum Bar on Essential West’s famous Duval Road and it was at first owned by a gentleman referred to as Raul Vaquez, who was a cigar selector at the island’s famed Gato cigar manufacturing facility.

They stock an impressive 250+ sorts of rum, which you can of training course sample straight, or in one of their a lot of basic cocktails.

Seemingly Vaquez’s true enthusiasm was functioning as a ‘rum runner’ concerning Important West and the Caribbean. The sector turned so in-need, they established a ‘rum row’ – a three-mile route concerning Crucial West and Bermuda the place ‘rum runners’ travelled back again and forth.

So it only appeared correct that on the Southernmost Meals Tour, the team attempted the synonymous Rum Runner cocktail – a combine of white and dark rum, banana, blackberry, grenadine, OJ, pineapple and sours. Meanwhile, Analise kindly requested me a Rum Runner sans alcohol.

Livened up and all set to go, our next prevent on the Key West Food stuff Tour was the Bahama Village, one of my favourite regions of Key West and where by the majority of Crucial West’s Caribbean community settled.

Analise crammed us in on the background of the colourful clapboard houses and stopped by important points of desire such as the significantly-loved Rick Value mural….

…and the family members property of famous trumpeter Theodore “Fats” Navarro.

But our future halt on the Southernmost Food items Tour was one more Crucial West institution, Blue Heaven.

Blue Heaven

If you are ever in Critical West, this is in all probability the restaurant I’d propose as a great all-rounder. Positioned in just a leafy yard, comprehensive with roaming roosters and a rooster cemetery (they like their roosters below), an out of doors bar and quirky knick-knacks, it is packed with that Bohemian appeal you will come across in several components of Crucial West…

…and they serve a Critical Lime Pie which is to die for.

As you are going to study on this gastronomic journey, Key Lime Pie is a typical Important West dessert and there are all sorts of variants in how it’s served.

In this article at Blue Heaven, we tried using it in miniature form, comprising of a delicious biscuit foundation and a tangy lime filling topped with a pillow-delicate meringue.

They were so tooth-achingly sweet, these cute minimal miniatures ended up far more than plenty of. If you are eager to attempt the many variants of this neighborhood treat, head to the several Vital Lime Pie stores and factories in the Outdated City and sample them all!

We headed again to Blue Heaven for a good brunch a couple of days later and I’d remarkably advocate a visit.

Mangoes

Mangoes is extra of a mainstream bar and cafe you will discover on Duval Road. But its indoor-outdoor really feel and good cocktail bar vibe absolutely make it worthy of viewing. As we discovered on the food tour, it’s also a fantastic place to sample a different culinary staple, conch. 

Conch is the sea snail you will find in abundance in Critical West. It’s also what lots of individuals however nickname them selves below soon after the tongue-in-cheek motion in 1982 which saw Crucial Westers form a micronation dubbed the ‘Conch Republic’.

These squidgy molluscs are usually utilised to make ceviche and chowder but you are going to also find them shallow-fried, or deep fried to make fritters. At Mangoes, they have been served as fritters with a mouth watering aioli created utilizing the community Important Lime.

They’re fantastic as a tasty snack and style even greater when enjoyed in the sunshine, with a refreshing beer.

Aspect note: Component foods child, portion genuine infant escalating in my tummy listed here..

Important West Distilling

Our final stop on the Southernmost Food items Tour was Critical West Distilling, a compact distillery on Southard Avenue that generates craft spirits, rums, vodkas, gin and whiskey.

Yet again, I experienced to scent somewhat than flavor, but Analise provided an attention-grabbing introduction into their exceptional distilling processes, the means they develop the oak flavours and the a variety of substances and spices that are made use of below.

If you’re brave sufficient, you will consider the overproof rum which has a mighty 76.5% alcohol content. Or probably you’ll sample the horseradish vodka?

Either way, it was a fantastic close to a superb tour with Important West Food stuff Tours.

I’m so happy we did the Southernmost Food items Tour as shortly as we arrived into Important West. It presented a wonderful introduction to the island, it taught us a ton about the Florida Keys society and we left with a prolonged checklist of recommendations on places to eat and consume, which is never a bad point.

The Southernmost Foods Tasting & Cultural Strolling Tour charges from $75 for grown ups and $49 for kids aged 12 and under. You can locate out a lot more about Vital West Food items Excursions on Facebook, instagram, twitter and via their web site.

Find out much more about the Florida Keys and Crucial West by using the Florida Keys and Essential West Vacationer Board.

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[malikriazhussain-blog]

Malik Riaz Hussain - Fund For the Pakistani Common Man (An Open Letter)

May God’s mercy and peace be upon us all. God Almighty has bestowed upon me the honor of being one of the most successful businessmen in Pakistan. I feel no shame in admitting that my name, identity, and that of Bahria Town wouldn’t exist without Pakistan, and it’s all thanks to the grace of Almighty God and our beloved nation. We have enjoyed the bounties of our country for generations, and today at the age of 62, I feel I am indebted to our country and its people. If I am unable to repay this debt, on the Judgment Day I will stand before the Almighty as the accused, and with no defense. He provided for us plentifully, and we must show gratitude by being compassionate to others.

Some material possessions make my life more enjoyable, but many, however, do not. I like having an expensive private airplane, but owning half a dozens of homes, for example, would be too much of a burden. Too often, a vast collection of possessions ends up possessing its owner. I am certainly not the only one indebted to Pakistan. My other billionaire friends such as Sir Anwar Pervez, Sadarud- din Hashwani, Nasir Schon, Haji Abdur Razzaq, Mian Muhammad Mansha, Rafiq Habib, Tariq Sehgal, Dewan Yousuf, Sultan Ali Lakhani, Seth Abid, Mian Muhammad Latif, Jehangir Tareen, Iqbal Z. Ahmed, Bashir A. Tahir, the Dawood family, the Sheikhani family, Behram Avari, Rafiq Rangoonwala, Aqeel Karim Dady, Jehangir Elahi, the Shirazi family, the Noon family, the Shahzad family, the Yunus brothers, the Ghani family, the Sehgal family, and scores of others are equally indebted to our country and its people. It’s time that we realize our duty towards Pakistan. If we are unable to see the imminent consequences of our continued ignorance, I am scared that not only our families but also our businesses will fuel a bloody revolution that is brewing due to poverty, lawlessness, unemployment, corruption, and terrorism. This is a clear warning to land barons, waders, the wealthy, politicians, bureaucrats, and industrialists to shed their sloth and wake up before all is lost and there is no place to hide.

I humbly appeal to my billionaire friends to develop a platform to provide sustainable employment. Today in Pakistan, 90 million youngsters are unemployed, low-income citizens are forced to reduce their consumption of flour by 10 percent, 75 percent of Pakistanis are categorized as poor, and more than 60 million people live below the poverty line. What else could we expect a bloody revolution? Will they not try to slaughter the rich who are living the high life? Will they not set our palatial homes on fire? Will they not destroy our limousines? I have concluded that they will resort to any cruelty to take revenge that would surpass our imaginations. If we do nothing today to pacify their hunger and don’t provide a sustaiable social and economic system, believe you me the day is not far away 14 when they will deprive us of our peaceful sleep and trouble-free lives.

You will agree that the difference between the rich and poor in Pakistan is the same as mountain peaks and the ocean depths. In our country, where more than 60 million people cannot manage to find two meals a day, the rich spend millions of rupees each day on their personal comforts. If we don’t do something to reduce the gap between the rich and poor, the deprived majority will take everything from the fortunate few. Our wealth, our peaceful lives, our comforts, and everything else will be snatched up. Realizing my own responsibilities to our nation, I, therefore, appeal to all our billionaires to step forward with an initial contribution of PKR 50 million for a new fund. This fund will be to help poor Pakistanis living below the poverty line. To replenish the fund as it’s spent, we will need to continue contributing PKR 2 million a month. This is peanuts for us but will make a remarkable difference to the lives of millions. Initially, billions of rupees will be contributed toward this fund to develop a platform for sustainable programs for free food centers, free education, clean water, health and sanitation, and most of all for skills enhancement and basic training centers to prepare the poor to find employment. I am reminded of the famous Chinese proverb: “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish you feed him for a lifetime”. Our fund will provide immediate relief by establishing hundreds of “Dastarkhwans” throughout Pakistan, where 20 to 30 million poor people can eat each day in dignity. Pakistan’s rural areas desperately need small and mobile hospitals that can provide basic healthcare and medicines to the millions of poor people. Our fund will establish Vocational Training Institutes, where millions of unskilled laborers will be turned into a skilled labor force capable of earning billions in foreign exchange by exporting skilled labor to the West and the Middle East. Through our fund, we can advance small interest-free loans to the poor, like the “Grameen Bank” of Bangladesh, to enable them to earn their own living and create cottage industries. Overall, this small step towards helping others — and in turn ourselves — will change the lives of millions of Pakistanis. We can also use our fund for social change. The fund will be known as “FUND FOR THE PAKISTANI COMMON MAN”. We will be the pioneers of this fund. Our generous contributions will encourage the upper and upper-middle class to contribute as well, as every little contribution helps.

I know the people of my nation, they have a great deal of capacity to do good. We should not hesitate for a moment to contribute towards poverty alleviation. The contributions will be financially supervised and audited by a third-party accredited chartered accountancy firm. We should remember that by helping others, we are only helping ourselves in this world and beyond.

I have no regrets in accepting that our country’s wealthy people sleep in air conditioned bedrooms set at 18 degrees with a comfortable imported blanket, while our workers relentlessly toil in 46 degrees. We are accumulating heaps of wealth, while it’s increasingly difficult for them to feed themselves and their families. These workers not only toil for us under the scorching sun, but also pray for our well-being and our health. But who is praying for their well being and health? Is it not our responsibility to do? Are we not duty bound to look after their well-being and comforts? Hazrat Umer Farooq (R.A) stopped the use of honey and meat under such conditions. Why can’t we share our honey and meat with our country’s poor? A King of France built a palace for himself called the “Chateau de Versailles,” which in those days was the biggest and most expensive ever made. Like us, the emperor used to sleep in the palatial palace, while the poor of France lived a life in the hell of poverty and hunger. Look what happened? The poor, hungry people of France tore the king’s descendants to pieces in front of the very same palace. Will history repeat itself in Pakistan? Are we not sprinting toward the same fate? The fate of the wealthy of Iran in the 1970s is known to everyone. These people used to invite thousands to celebrate the wedding of their dogs. At the same time, the hungry masses of Iran marched on the roads. What was the result? The filthy rich are now embracing death in America and other European countries, and are unable to return to their homeland. They are even trying to be buried in their homeland but cannot? I appeal to my friends to sacrifice a few million. This sacrifice will save you, your business, your wealth, your family, and our beloved country. The other option is that the poor will take everything by force.

Let us appeal to those who have only Rs. 1,000 in their pocket to help those with only Rs. 100 to survive so we all collectively move to save our country from disaster. Our religion propagates that “….. if anyone saved a life, it would be as if he saved the whole humanity (Surah 5, Verse 32)”. I am personally taking a step towards this noble cause by offering a contribution of PKR 50 million. I appeal to all who have become billionaires and millionaires thanks to our country and its people. Let us all step forward collectively for our country to save Pakistan from the fate of a bloody revolution such as in France and Iran.

I request all my friends, in particular those who I’ve mentioned earlier, to form a committee for our fund. This committee should open and operate an independent bank account for this purpose, and share its details to all concerned, to take the first step in a long journey towards eternal peace and prosperity.

MALIK RIAZ HUSSAIN CHAIRMAN BAHRIA TOWN

[alexandre-benois]

Versailles. Louis XIV is feeding fish, 1897, Alexandre Benois

Medium: chalk,charcoal,gouache,graphite,watercolor,cardboard

[mykhronicles]

[the-blue-eyed-fallen-angel]

Dame-Tsuna, Right?

Welp, after about 8 years without writing shit, here it is. My first fic in the KHR fandom, and my first fic in general.

Hope you like it.

Title: Dame-Tsuna, Right?

Rating: T, with some M parts.

Warnings: None for this chapter.

“I’m terribly sorry, but we already have someone else in mind to be a tutor.” Said Sawada Nana sweetly to the baby at her door.

Reborn frowned. While Iemitsu had talked about how much his wife would be delighted to have a personal tutor for their no-good son, Reborn should have known better than expect a smooth transition.

Still, he wasn’t the Number One Hitman In The World for nothing, and had prepared accordingly. “Please, Signora Sawada.” he said, tending her an envelope. “I came as a personal favor for Iemitsu. He told me his son needed a lot of help with school, and that I was his last hope to, and I quote, “make his Tuna-fishie a strong man like his Papa.” He said, cringing internally at that last bit, but it was a calculated maneuver. Hopefully, it would buy him enough time to convince the woman to hire him.

Nana frowned as she read her husband’s letter, but returned to her placid demeanor as soon as she finished. “Well, I guess I can ask Tsu-kun to meet you, at least. It’s not like you can force him to obey, right?” She laughed at her own joke, which made Reborn chuckle himself. The woman turned, beckoning him with one hand. “Here, sit on the counter as I go get him.”

At home this late on a school day?  Reborn thought, sadistically gleeful even as he thanked the woman and sat in a stool. Once Sawada-san had left the room, he took out a small electronic and turned it on, fiddling with the dials for a bit. He took a look at the display, before nodding and putting it away in satisfaction. He would have liked to make a thorough sweep of the room, but there was no time, and the device only showed frequencies consistent with standard-use Vongola bugs, so it would have to do for now.

“Tsu-kun will come down shortly.” said the woman, re-entering the kitchen with a mischievous smile on her face. “Would you like something in the meantime? I have tea and cookies.” She offered, puttering around the kitchen.

“Espresso if you have it, madam.” He answered, taking out a small folder and reviewing the meager information he had been able to gather. Once again, Reborn cursed the uncanny ability Iemitsu had to yell to all and sundry he had a cute little Tuna-fish for a son, and simultaneously have absolutely zero relevant facts.

He sighed, scanning the first page.

Sawada Tsunayoshi. 16 years old. DOB October 13. Average height. Average weight. Not a member of any clubs. No known hobbies. Constantly bullied. No self-esteem. Clumsy. Not very intelligent. Timid. Previously known as “Dame-Tsuna”. Known Relations: Sawada Nana, mother. Yamamoto Takeshi, Kurokawa Hana and Kyoko Sasagawa: Acquaintances, maybe friends.

If it wasn’t for the grid organizing the information, it would hardly cover half a page. Rebor huffed and flicked to the next one, which held a quick overview of the kid’s academic record.

Bad grades all around since kindergarten, then a slow and steady rise from the start of elementary, only to drop sharply back down, hovering just above failing. What really worried Reborn were the two long absences: The first one was two months long, just after the kid had entered elementary, having been caused by an accident at school. The second one was last year, almost six months long, with no obvious cause. There had been a note about the kid presenting some kind of test and claiming homeschooling, but it had been denied, so Tsunayoshi had been forced to repeat the grade.

The most worrying thing was, the records didn’t have any more detail than that, and even the best of Vongola’s informants were unable to find anything more substantial, and Iemitsu swore up and down that there were no signs of tampering of the records. But even so, at best, that meant there was someone with a vested interest to keep Tsunayoshi as anonymous as possible.

Someone not from Vongola.

The third and last page was a ‘report’ from Iemitsu himself, along with a photo of Tsunayoshi. What was intelligible under the coffee-cup stains, handwritten notes and sentimental ramblings painted the picture of a wimpy, no-good kid who had accepted his lot in the lowest rung of the food chain, a momma’s boy and pretty much useless.

Dino 2.0: Civilian Edition™, in short.

He eyed the three pages and sighed, putting them back on his folder when he heard footsteps come down the stairs. He quickly put everything incriminating away and took out another folder, this one black and branded with the Vongola coat of arms, and sat down with his best innocent expression.

Sawada -san also heard them, turning back at the door from her place near the coffee machine.”Ah, Tsu-kun. This is Reborn-san, the prospective tutor.” She said with a smile. “Tea?”

“Please, kaa-chan” said a soft voice behind him.

Reborn took a look at his student, and nearly fell off his chair.

Maybe baka-Iemitsu was onto something when he decided to keep his son off the Mafia, he thought dazedly.

Tsunayoshi cocked his head to the side, suspicion morphing to concern in the face of Vongola Primo. The resemblance was uncanny, taking into account how many generations were between the two. Reborn vowed that he was going to have words with the Head of the DEDEF, because seriously, a photo of a chubby-faced, wide-eyed ten years old clinging to the skirts of his mother did NOT, in ANY way, indicate that the same kid was a carbon copy of the founder of the most powerful Famiglia in the world.

“Are you feeling well?” asked the kid, taking a cautious step towards him, one hand raised. His eyes were a deep honey color, sharp as they looked him up and down. “We can do this some other day, if you are feeling ill.”

“I’m fine.” Reborn snapped, making a mental note to get the kid back for the disrespect. He was the best Hitman in the world, he was always fine, and pointedly ignored how the kid could read him so easily.

Tsunayoshi wavered, like he wanted to step nearer, but eventually he lowered his hand, marching to the opposite seat from Reborn, a long ponytail flapping behind him.

He took the seat just as Nana finished, and accepted his teacup with a smile. Reborn nodded his thanks to the woman, who sat besides her son, sipping her own cup.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the three of them seizing each other.

“So, mom said you were a tutor?” said Tsunayoshi, breaking the silence.

Reborn nodded. “I am one of the best tutors in the world, and I have decided to take you in as my student.” He said in a tone that bore no discussion.

The kid frowned, taking another sip of the tea as he studied Reborn over the rim. “How come? There must be a lot of other people interested.” He put the teacup down. “I will be honest: we aren’t rich, Reborn-san, so I doubt we could pay your fees, and I doubt the Sawada family has any connections that could be of use to such a prestigious tutor.” He said, palms up on the table.

“I am here as a favor to your father, so that’s nothing you have to be concerned about.”

“Of course I have to be concerned about it!” Countered Tsunayoshi, annoyance seeping into his tone. “There are logistics to take into account, for example: Is food included in the deal, or do we have to feed you? Are you going to buy your own stuff, or should we? Where would you stay? What other expenses could be incurred? And those are only the ones off the top of my head.” He said plainly.

“Not to mention” continued the kid with a pointed look, not quite interrupting but not letting Reborn a word in edgewise. “That we don’t know who  you are, or who asked you to come here.” He ducked his head a little. “If you could give us some insight, that would be much appreciated”

Reborn took one long look at the kid, and made a mental note to incinerate the reports he had been given. Taking a page from the folder, he gave it to Nana. “Those are my credentials. I’m sure a call to any number there would be enough to verify my identity.” The lie came easily to Reborn, even as he felt the Mist flames imbued on the paper waver, before settling around the woman like a cloak. They were an insurance policy, one that he thought wouldn’t need but was glad to have brought with him. Visconti used them whenever he had to infiltrate a non-mafia place, a simple illusion to make the target more suggestible to his words.

Nana’s expression tensed for a moment, before melting into an excited smile. “Tsu-kun! These credentials are amazing!” She exclaimed, prompting Tsunayoshi to give a concerned look to his mother. The woman scooted closer to him, and showed him the paper. “Look closely! See the name there? Do you think that’s the same Dino Cavallone?”

“From Cavalleria Banca” confirmed Reborn, stomping on a superior smirk as Tsunayoshi’s eyes flickered with interest. “I tutored him for some years during his teens.”

“That’s so amazing!” gushed Sawada san. “And this one?”

“La Nostra Signora del Cuore Coraggioso.” Muttered Tsunayoshi. “That’s a private school in Italy, isn’t it? Something like Eton.”

“That’s right. I taught there for some years, before I started Tutoring privately.”

“And what exactly did you teach there? It says here you lasted less than 5 years.” Said Tsunayoshi.

Sawada-san nodded. “Good question, Tsu-kun. What are your specialties Reborn-san?

“Mathematics.” He answered immediately, taking out a diploma from the folder. “I have a Ph.D. on theoretical maths. I also have three Masters in History, two on Italy and one on World History, and I also have degrees in Chemistry, Theater, Literature, Physical Education, and Art.” He turned to look at the kid. “I had to leave due to personal issues.”

“This is quite an impressive resume!” Gushed Sawada-san, as she flipped the paper and started reading the second sheet. “Research on Oxford…. Guest Speaker on a Versailles exhibition…  Gosh, you are so worldly, Reborn-san!”

“But there isn’t anything on that list even remotely connected with actual Education.” Said Tsunayoshi gently, which made Sawada-san deflate for a bit.

“That’s true…” Sighed Sawada-san, before perking right back up. “But then again, He does have experience, and most of his knowledge would be useful for you, no? And” she said, pointing with a finger. “His specialty IS math, which is your worst subject overall.”

Tsunayoshi huffed. “I would do a lot better if the teacher didn’t hate me.”

If Reborn had blinked, he wouldn’t have caught the utter fury that shadowed Sawada-san for a moment. But just as fast as it had come, it went away, leaving a bone-deep sadness and regret that didn’t fit her at all.

“All the more reason to accept tutoring, Tsu-kun.” she said softly, taking one of the kid’s hands.

So Tsunayoshi was having trouble with a teacher in particular. Either that, or he was an extremely accomplished liar. Before meeting the kid, Reborn would have been more inclined to believe the second theory, since math wasn’t the only thing the kid was failing at. But in the mafia, it wasn’t uncommon to have teacher show favor to one student while sabotaging others, so Reborn would give the kid the benefit of the doubt, at least for the moment.

Tsunayoshi thought about it. “We have to make sure the certifications are real, first.” He said slowly.

The woman and her kid traded a Look, before the kid nodded, making the woman beam. “Let me get the phone~.” She said, trailing off in a note, and with a spring on her step, she went out of the kitchen.

Tsunayoshi watched her leave with a soft smile on his lips, before shaking his head an taking a sip of his tea, apparently oblivious, or deliberately ignoring, the hitman in front of him.

“Mom is pretty excited.” he said after putting his tea down, and taking a cookie from the platter. His words were slow but steady, like he was thinking exactly how to phrase them. “She had been talking about having me do better in school. This is about the best timing you could have hoped for, Tutor-san.” He said, finally looking back at him with a curiously blank look.

“Really?” Asked Reborn with interest.

The kid nodded slowly, still looking at him. “We already had someone else in mind, but he is… busy at the moment.The earliest he said he could come was ten months, and that was being unrealistically optimistic.” He swirled the tea on his cup, before finishing it in one big gulp. “So if you impress her? It’s almost a certainty you’d stay.”

Reborn smirked “It’s a done deal.”

Tsunayoshi cocked his head to the side. “You… are pretty sure about this.” He said, gesturing between himself and the baby.

Reborn straightened, and raised his voice so it was easily heard across the hall. “I am the best opportunity you will ever have, Tsunayoshi-kun. I will make you the leader of the new generation.”

The kid stared at him for a couple of heartbeats, before turning away with a snort. “God, you are full of yourself.” He said as he took the plates on the table, and started washing them.

“Just to be clear,” he said, talking over the rush of water. “I’m giving you a chance because I promised mom to.” He turned of the water and grabbed a nearby rag. “You have six months to convince me to keep you.”

The next second, Tsunayoshi face planted on the counter, a heavy weight on the back of his head.

“You have severely misunderstood the situation.” Spoke Reborn, his terse voice a contrast with the shoe grinding on the back of Tsuna’s head. “My presence here is not dependent on your whims, child.”

Then he jumped back to his seat, looking through his files just as Sawada-san rejoined them in the kitchen, where she promptly snatched Tsuna up and began twirling around.

“Oh, Tsu-kun! Fate has smiled upon us!” she cried joyously as she spinned, ignoring her child’s attempt to get out of her grip. “If Reborn-san is half as good as the school says, he’s perfect  to teach you!”

Tsunayoshi wriggled out of her arms and gasped for breath a couple times, before turning to his mother. “Fine. Fine! I’ll take him.” he said, and her smile became incandescent. “But I need to get to school soon, or Kyoya will have my hide.”

Sawada-san sighed. “All right, I’ll start settling him down.  Would you please follow me, Reborn-san?”

Reborn smiled up at the woman “Molto Grazie.” He finished the cup of espresso. “But I would like to talk with Tsunayoshi-kun alone.”

“But Kyo-”

“I’ll call Hibari-kun for you.” Said Nana, starting to go out to the the phone.

“And we’ll talk in your room” He said, jumping off his chair and starting to march upstairs, not bothering to pay attention to Tsunayoshi’s annoyed mutterings.

They reached the room, and Reborn closed the door, feeling jittery and fighting a bloodthirsty smile as he turned to his student, who’s sitting on the only chair in the room and eyeing him warily. At the very least, the kid had good instincts.

“Well’ he says, blinking innocently up at the brunet. “Now that we are alone, I can speak clearly to you”.

Reborn moved, channeling but a fraction of his power, and his feet connected with a satisfactory “whomp”, sending his useless student to the floor.

“I am Reborn, the Best Hitman in the World.” He says, letting Leon crawl into his hand and transform into his pistol. “My true line of work is assassination.”

He pointed the gun at the kid’s forehead. “And I’m here to make you a Mafia Boss” he finished with a flourish.

Tsunayoshi looked at the barrel of the gun, then at the baby. “Are you joking?” He asked, slowly moving a hand and touching the muzzle of the weapon.

In return, Reborn shots the impudent little brat, and he dodged.

It was clumsy, and graceless, but he dodged, and Reborn doesn’t know if he’s feeling giddy or murderous.

They stared at each other for a moment, before Tsunayoshi sighed and stood up from where he had sprawled. “Guess not”.

And then leaves him alone in the room without so much as a by your leave.

Reborn adjusted his fedora, the hat shadowing his already dark eyes. This kid was A Problem.

Iemitsu was going to pay for this misinformation in blood. There was no way this kid was a civilian, not with how he had dodged his shot, and at such close range too. Hell, he wasn’t even sure the kid was the same kid anymore. Sure, he looked like him, but Reborn had met a lot of skilled infiltrators, and Mist Flames existed. A disguise for the general shape, some internal Flame to take care of the details, and no-one would know.

And his eyes… It had been only a second, but Reborn had seen the honey-like eyes become a bright carnelian, keen and sharp and dangerous.

No way a civilian would have those eyes.

Reborn took off his hat and straightened it, before the creases were able to set in. Leon crawled from his hand, to his shoulder, and licked his cheek, receiving a pat and a smile from the Arcobaleno.

“I’m fine Leon, just a bit ticked off.”

Leon transformed into a hammer, before transforming back into a chameleon and giving Reborn a meaningful look.

“Not yet Leon.” said Reborn, fighting off a smirk.

Time to find his troublesome student.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tsunayoshi forced his hands to unclench before his fingernails dug into his skin. That would make him bleed, which would make his friends worry, and then he would have a babysitting entourage for the rest of the week, which he does not need right now.

Tsuna sighed and ignored the faint presence of  Sun Flames in favor of the much more welcome sight of Namimori Middle’s gates.

“Cub, you are supposed to be excused for today.”

“...Aaaaannnndddd there it is.” Tsuna thought, forcing a smile to his face even as the prefect jumped down from his perch in one of the trees, the white and red armband a striking contrast against the black jacket flapping in the wind. “Hello, Kyoya-sann.”

Hibari just looked at him, a scowl on his face and arms crossed, the lethal glint of a tonfa peeking from under the cuffs of the perfectly ironed white shirt. “Students may only be excused in case of sickness or family emergencies.” Recited the prefect, still glaring at the brunet.

“Mom called a home tutor.” Explained Tsunayoshi quickly “But he arrived way earlier than expected, and she didn’t want to risk my chances of getting extra help, apparently the man is in high demand. He taught at the Scuola.” He said, sending a meaningful look at the teenager, whose eyebrows climbed up before a razor-sharp smirk took place on his face.

“I see.” Hibari turned, walking back to the building. “Get to class.” He shot back, making Tsuna chuckle, walking into the school and taking the stairs two at the time, reaching his classroom.

Tsunayoshi took a centering breath, and schooled his expression in a neutral mask, opening the door. Kobayashi-sensei flicked his eyes up to him, frowning and making a gesture for him to come in, before returning to the lecture. Tsuna stepped inside, seeing him marking him in the assistance book, and his fist clenched once again. He’ll ask Kyoya to fix the records later, but for now, he just walked to the back of the classroom.

“Yo, Tsu.” Says Takeshi quietly, turning his attention from his doodling to his friend, smile becoming strained upon seeing him up close. “Did something happen?”

“New tutor” Tsuna huffed out, hunching down on his seat, making his friend lean over him with a concerned look. “Nothing happened, so quit your face. It’s just…” Tsuna could only sigh and hunch even lower, lifting his left hand and extending his pinky, showing a golden ring.

“Oh.” Is the only thing the carefree young man said, eyes going sharp and giving another, slower once-over to his friend.

“Don’t, okay?” Said Tsuna abruptly, giving him a Look Takeshi had come to fear. “The guy was weirdly insistent about this, and I’d rather get whatever information we can from him first.”

“If you say so…” says Yamamoto, closing his eyes and dropping his shoulders, his signature smile becoming much more strained. “But I’m going to your house after this. I want to meet this tutor person myself.”

“I was afraid you’d do that.” Muttered the brunet, resting his face on his arms. Seriously, his friends were way too damn overprotective, and while he was supremely grateful he had them in his life, sometimes he could not help but wish they would calm down on the mother henning.

“Hey, cheer up.” Said Takeshi, giving him a pat on the back. “If worst comes to worst, you can sic my dad and Kyoya’s mom on him.”

“I don’t think so, Keshi.” Said Tsunayoshi, body tensing. “His name’s Reborn.”

The rest of the class would not be able to explain later what exactly had happened, but all of the sudden, the lights seemed dimmer, and the air tasted stale and sharp, like the air before a storm. Those who were paying attention would handwave their misting breath as a trick of the light.

But none of them would be able to forget the icy dread that pooled on their stomach, how their lungs just plain refused to move, choking Kobayashi-sensei as he tried to form words, because there was something there, something dangerous, something that would tear them to shreds if they drew any kind of attention.

And then the moment passed.

Kobayashi-sense cleared his throat, taking a drink from his thermos and continuing as normal, the students rubbing their head or flexing their hands, trying to shake off the numbness that had crept in.

“I see.” Said Takeshi,  voice just as cold as the ice covering the page he had been using. Calmly, he took the page and crumpled it, frost falling and melting before touching the floor, and thrown with perfect accuracy into the trash bin near the door, getting an annoyed look from the teacher. Takeshi answers it with his own winning grin, before dismissing it from his mind as he looked at the brunet. “What does he want?”

“Make me a mafia boss”

Takeshi couldn’t help the outburst of giggles that followed.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Class finished, and both boys were getting their stuff when they were joined by two girls.

“Are you okay, Tsu?” Asked Kyoko, sweet chocolate eyes roaming over him, looking for any kind of injury.

He shook his head, books under an arm. “Yah, I’m cool. Keshi here just got emotional.”  He said, giving his friend a narrow-eyed glare, to which Takeshi smiled genially.

“Well the news are not exactly good so…”

“News? What news?” Demanded Hana, crossing her arms and sending the two boys a glare, making them wince.

“Don’t get mad at me, I just found out today.” Tsunayoshi discreetly got behind the taller boy, leaving him to face the brunt of the woman’s ire, all the while giving her one of his best disarming smiles.

Hana just glared harder “Out with it, baka-Tsuna.”

“Mom got me a new tutor. He’s staying at my house.”

“And?” She said, clenching her hands on forearms. It’s never a good sign that Tsuna gets evasive.

“His name’s Reborn.”

Kyoko gasped, turning to Hana who was sporting the same huge eyes as her friends, her nails digging on her skin.

“Shit. Are you okay? What I am saying, of course you are okay, you wouldn’t be here otherwise.”  She hunched down and lashed with a hand, dragging him until her lips were right by his ear, all while eyeing the windows and the door like they had personally offended her. “We need to get you out of here” she hissed, “somewhere far and safe. Maybe we can start calling the debts, and we have to do something with your mother, but then Yamamoto-san is going to get involved, and - “

”Hana!” Exclaimed Tsunayoshi, cutting the rambling girl off and putting his hands on her shoulders. “Hana,“ He continued, softer now. “It’s ok. I don’t know what his thing is, but he’s not here to harm me. He wants me to become a Mafia Boss.”

Hana blinked twice, her face going tight for a moment before she doubled over in a fit of giggles, her arms wrapping around her middle as she shook, drawing some weird looks from a couple of stragglers, who then finished exiting the classroom, leaving the group alone.

“Ciaossu!”

The four teenagers turned to look at the baby standing on Tsuna’s desk.

“Wha - How did you get there?” exclaimed Hana, snapping straight and scrutinizing the baby standing on the desk.

“It is a se~ cret~” He sing-songed, bringing one finger in front of his lips and winking, which made Hana snort and Kyoko squee.

“Oh, you are so cute!” Cooed the smaller girl, coming nearer. “May I carry you?”

Reborn smiled blindingly “No.”

“Awww” Kyoko said, pouting, and dropping her shoulders.

“What about a trade?” He proposed. “You tell me who you are and how you know of me, and I will let you carry me.”

“Of course!” She said, clapping her hands. Behind her, both men sighed and facepalmed, while Hana arched an eyebrow at her friend. “I am Sasagawa Kyoko, pleasure to meet you!” She said, doing a full 90 angle bow. “And these are my friends: Yamamoto Takeshi”

“Yo!”

“ - Kurokawa Hana - “

“Hi”

“- And Sawada Tsunayoshi. But I guess you already met him, since you are his tutor and all”

The baby nodded, but didn’t move. “And you know me how…?”

“Everybody knows about the Greatest Hitman in the World!” She said, a huge smile on her face. “Even though the stories never said anything about a baby. But I guess you’d want that secret, ne?” She finished with a wink.

“I have told you, that’s just a stupid urban legend.” said Hana rolling her eyes.”Though I have to give you props, kid, your disguise is a dead ringer for the description.” She said, giving him a thumbs up. “Could have fooled me and everything”.

“Thank you.” Said the baby, hiding his twitching hand.

“So can I hold you now?” Asked Kyoko, an eager grin on her face as she made grabby motions.

The little hitman shrugged. “If you want”.

He was immediately snatched off the top of the desk and comfortably nestled into the crook of the girl’s arm. Reborn turned to look at her. “That was… Pretty fast” he said, not bothering o keep his interest out of his voice.

“I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?” She asked, he pretty smile changing into a concerned frown as she tucked him more into her arms, making sure to be supporting his neck and putting her other forearm under his knees, “Is this better now?”

“I’m fine.” He said, filling this detail for later. It was hard to catch him by surprise, and civilians rarely were that fast, so he hadn’t been expecting it.

Tsunayoshi, Reborn decided, had some very interesting friends. The other kid had demonstrated some very potent killer intent, and what appeared to be a natural ability for Rain Flames, and this girl seemed to be shaping up to be a possible Sun. He turned to look at the dark-haired girl, eager to see what she was going to do. “Where are you going now?”

Hana shot Tsunayoshi a look, but he shrugged his shoulders. “We go to the cafe.”

“I can’t go today.” Said Yamamoto suddenly, receiving a puzzled look from Tsunayoshi.

“But I thought you wanted to meet him…?” Asked Tsuna, vaguely gesturing to Reborn.

Takeshi shrugged. ”Well, yes, but I remembered I have to help my old man today. Maybe we can play together tomorrow!” He said with a smile.

“Sure thing.” Answered the baby. “It will be an interesting day”

“Then it will be just Tsuna and Kyoko today. Are you okay with that?” Hanna asked. “It’s not very fun, and they won’t be able to look after you then.”

“Sure! I’d love a cup of coffee.” Said Reborn with his best innocent expression.

“I… Don’t think they’d let us serve you coffee.” said Kyoko, wincing and darting a look at Tsuna.  “The cakes, on the other hand, are an absolute delight”

Reborn didn’t answer, merely frowned at it, but decided it wasn’t worth to make a scene over it. “All right.” He said, sighing. “But they better be as good as you say, or Tsuna will pay the consequences.” He threatened, making the girl laugh.

Kyoko smiled. “They are the best there are. Promise.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reborn had to admit, as he took another spoonful of a deliciously spongy angel cake, that the cakes were, in fact, a delight.

“See? I know what I’m talking about, I am a total cake connoisseur.” Kyoko boasted over her own cake, a Chocolate Monstrosity consisting of 16 different chocolates. Reborn had taken one look at it and vowed to never go near the thing.

He didn’t comment, instead concentrated on polishing what was left of his own cake as Kyoko waved Tsuna over.

He went, a smile on his lips and a tray on his left hand “Was everything to your liking?” He asked, taking both dishes off the table, and setting down two glasses, one with soda and one with milk. “Will there be anything else?” He smiled, taking out a notepad and pen from his white apron.

“No, that’s fine. Thank you.” Answered the girl with a giggle. “And everything was delicious as always.”

“I am glad. Would you like your check now?”

“Yes please.” Said Kyoko, taking out her wallet, leaving about twice as much for the bill.

Tsuna took it, smile never faltering “Thank you very much. I hope your visit had been satisfactory, and to see you soon”

“You are welcome!” She beamed, watching as her friend left to leave the tray behind the bar, and made his rounds to the rest of the tables.

“I didn’t know he had a job” said Reborn, putting down  his soda and keeping watch over his student.

Kyoko smiled. Contrary to the wide, luminous smiles she had been giving, this was small, and dim, and made her look so sad Reborn almost regretted asking. “It’s... a new development” she said, voice small but firm.

And that only made Reborn more curious, but even he knew when to not push it. And although Kyoko was doing an exemplary effort to keep her composure, her hands were starting to tremble.

So instead, he asked “Do you work with him here too?”

She nodded “Most of us do. Keshi comes when his dad’s restaurant is slow, and Hana-chan and Onii-san have Saturday and Sunday. Most of us have shifts during the week. There are a few others, but they are very intermittent.”

“And you get that much traffic?” He asked, looking around the comparatively tiny shop.

She smiled, “Oh yes! We are one of the best tourist spots…” She trailed off, catching sight of something outside. Reborn turned back to the terrace, where a group of five- no, six students of Namimori middle were making themselves at home, until one of the waiters stopped them. The entire laid-back demeanor stopped, and all of them -three girls and three boys- seemed to have ganged up on the poor server.

There was a clatter and, by the time Reborn looked back, Kyoko had stood up, back disappearing into the backstore. Looking around, people were starting to look up at the teens, most of the patrons glaring or sneering, but a few looked squeamish, alternating between the terrace and the door, like they were planning on running.

Unable hear what was happening from his table, he hopped off his seat and climbed into the vent ducts, navigating them until he found the one vent going outside, just over the table. Leon, ever the loyal pet, transformed into a small camera, connected to a tv, that was easy enough to slide out.

“I told you, Midori-san, you can’t stay here.” Said the server, back straight and arms crossed, staring severely down at the girl in front of him.

“And I told you I don’t care.” Said ‘Midori-san’, huffing “I want cake, and you have the best cakes in town. Therefore, I will eat my cake here” She finished with a sniff.

“You were banned, and you still need to pay for the last display you and your friends destroyed the last time” He answered between clenched teeth.  “So please vacate the premises.”

“Or what? You’ll call the police?” Said the boy with a red bandana “Please do so, maybe then you will be able to clean this place of filth.” He said, spitting right at the feet of Tsunayoshi, who had just arrived at the scene, about four more servers behind him.

Tsunayoshi merely narrowed his eyes, looking between the glob of saliva and the boy “As charming as ever, Mochida-san.”

The boy smirked widely, showing his teeth. “Dame-Tsuna! How’s the runt doing?”

“I was doing well before now. What are you doing here? Yawaru-san has not been repaid from the cakes you ruined last time.” He said in an even voice, eyes firmly planted on Mochida.

“Mi-chan wanted cake, so stop acting like a person and go fetch her one of your best.” Said the long-haired girl, who had managed to snatch a chair and was comfortably scrolling through her phone. “And get me a creme brule. Ko-chan, same as always?”

Ko-chan was still standing, hands wringing nervously inside her long sweater sleeves. “N-no, thank you Riku-san” she said, even as she stole a glance at Tsunayoshi, who still had to look away from Mochida.

Rika-san rolled her eyes, adjusting the shades on her head. “Suit yourself.” Then she glared at Tsunayoshi. “Well, what are you waiting for? Shoo.”

Tsunayoshi didn’t move. “We’ll serve you when the damages have been repaid. Until then, you are persona non-grata here, and if you keep being difficult we will be forced to take drastic measures.” he said softly.

“I’ll show you drastic measures!” Said Mochida, swinging a bokken towards him at the same time the other two boys moved to the sides.

Tsunayoshi however was unmoved. The bokken was easily blocked by a broom one of the other servers held up, and the other two boys were blocked in by the rest of the servers.

“I hope I am clearer now” said Tsunayoshi on the silence that ensued, the same bright carnelian from before now boring into Mochida. “If you don’t leave, we will kick you out.”

Mochida barked a laugh, but he took a step back, rising the sword close to his chest. “Fine! This is a shit place anyway.” Then he turned back to Midori. “We’ll get you some cake from somewhere else” He said, snagging her hand and pulling her as he started walking away, ignoring Midori’s whining of “But I want it NOW!”

Rikka-san sighed, locking her phone and standing up, giving Tsunayoshi a look that could curdle milk “You’ll pay for this, Dame-Tsuna. Come on Ko-chan, Tora-kun, Sasuke-kun. ”

She stood up, slinging her pack on her left shoulder as Ko-chan swiftly went to her side, the other two boys going after them.

Tsunayoshi followed the girl with his eyes until they reached the end of the street, and disappeared over the corner. Once they were gone, he let out a short breath, turning to face the rest of the servers. “Thanks everyone for your help. Please go back to your stations.” He said, voice even, but loud enough to reverberate through the place.

There was a general murmur of agreement as the servers went back, most of them sending concerned looks at him, one or two brave enough to give him a reassuring squeeze. Tsuna smiled at some of them, reassuring them he was fine, until Kyoko finally arrived with an older man in tow.

“Ah, so you took care of them.” Said the girl.

Tsunayoshi nodded “Yeah. They didn’t try to pull anything today, thank the Gods for small mercies.” Then he turned to the man, who shrank back at the steely gaze. “And what were you doing, Fukuoka-san? I distinctly remember telling you to not leave the front alone while in business hours.” He said, voice silky and cold as ice.

Reborn watched as the man, who had to be at least twice Tsunayoshi’s  age, sputtered and blushed. “I didn’t! I went to the back to check if we were stocked on a couple cakes and couldn’t hear…” The man trailed off at the unimpressed look Tsuna sent him, before he turning to Kyoko.

“Found him with the door of the office closed and locked.” She said, shrugging her shoulders at the betrayed look the man gave her.

Tsunayoshi pinched the bridge of his nose, brows furrowing. “This is the second time, Fukuoka-san. Please get your stuff from the back office, and turn in your key at the end of the shift. I’ll give you your check today.”

And with that, the kid turned back in, leaving the man with a white face and clenched fists. Kyoko gave the man a hasty bow and returns inside, but by that time Reborn is back on their table, finishing his soda.

“So, what was that about?” He asked casually, Leon crawling inside his suit.

Kyoko shook her head. “Some really nasty people from school. Since Tsuna started working here, they have come at least once a week to cause trouble.” She frowned, biting her lip. “I wish we could do something about them. Something permanent.” She said, her tone of voice suddenly growing darker, shoulders hunching and her hands tensing into claws around her own drink.

Reborn barely suppressed a smirk. He could work with that. “I could help with that.”

She looked up through her bangs, eyes gleaming with interest. “Oh?”

“I need to… assess what my student can do. This would be a good test.”

She smiled, the darkness around her suddenly dissipating. “That would be much appreciated. Tsuna… he sometimes underestimates how he influences us”

“How so?” Asked the baby, tilting his head.

But the girl, instead of talking, shook her head.“It’d be better if you saw it for yourself. That way you can for your own opinion.”

Reborn crossed his arms, mulling over this. “Fine” he said in the end. “But I’ll come after you if I don’t like what I see.”

“Fair enough.” she said, finishing her drink. “Are you going to be fine?” she asked then ”Since Tsuna just fired the manager, he most likely will have to stay and close, usually at seven or so. Do you want me to take you home?”

“No, I like to people watch, and cafes are the best places to do so.”

She smiled, taking out a notebook and a pencil. “All right. I will do some homework, then. If you want anything else, let me know and I’ll order for you.”

Reborn decided not to comment. If he wanted anything, he’ll make Tsunayoshi pay for it. “Sure thing.”

And so, the time passed, Reborn just looking around the restaurant and Kyoko doing her homework, sometimes asking him for help whenever she got stuck on something.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was 7:43 when the last stragglers left and Tsuna was able to close shop.

Kyoko stretched, yawning, as she changed her weight from one foot to another. “I can’t wait to get home. Today was tiring” she said, trudging along her best friend, Reborn on her right shoulder.

Tsunayoshi eyed her up. “Hm? How so? It was pretty normal. Well… Until he showed up” he amended, gesturing to the baby.

Kyoko frowned, before her eyes lighted up, her mouth dropping on a perfect ‘o’ shape as her eyebrows climbed. “That’s right! I forgot to tell you this morning!” She said “Mochida asked me on a date.”

“WHAT?”

Tsuna turned his body, but unfortunately, his legs seemed to miss the fact they, too, should turn, and he ended up on the floor for the second time that day.

“Owowowowowow…” he muttered, holding his cheek with his left hand, his right hand pushing up.

He scrambled back up again, eventually. “Didn’t he give up? Hell, isn’t he with Midori for that matter?”

“Yes and yes” said Kyoko serenely, not faltering on her step. Reborn would even go as far as to say she actually had an extra-spring to it. “That’s why I couldn’t meet with you after Gym today, I was too busy avoiding him.”

“Avoiding him?” He said darkly.

“The boy has an alarming inability understanding the concept of No.” She said shrugging, looking at her side and noticing the thunderous expression Tsuna was wearing. She took his hand into hers and gave him a smile that had Reborn swearing there were flowers and sparkles around. “Don’t worry Tsu, It’s easy enough to avoid him. And you know I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Even so,” he said in a sigh. “It’s offensive to me you have to be hiding from that… that… Urg. The only thing coming to mind is pig but pigs are actually nice animals.” He said in a frustrated huff.

Kyoko giggled, squeezing his hand a little, but kept quiet.

The rest of the walk was done in silence, just their steady pace on the streets and the cool wind of early April blowing. There weren’t many cars on the streets, people having long gone home or the bar with coworkers, or even staying late on the office. Muted sounds coming from the houses lining the streets, here or there a bark could be heard or the low hum of a tv.

They reached a fork on the road, and stopped.

“Have a nice night, Tsu.” She said, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek, prompting a blush and a smile from Tsuna, and raised eyebrows from Reborn.

“Good night Kyoko. Tell good night to Onii-san for me.”

“Yes sir.” She said, laughing as she turned, a graceful move that made her skirt flare, her long hair flapping on the breeze .

Tsuna watched her go with a fond smile until she turned a corner, and then he turned around, starting the short walk to his house.

“You really like her.” Said Reborn from the wall to his left.

Tsuna looked at him, confused “Of course I like her. She has been one of my best friends since we were six. I am very lucky to have her” he finished, smiling.

Reborn kicked him on the head, hard enough to make him stumble. “Stop doing that stupid expression, Dame-Tsuna.” He said, back at the wall. ‘Have you told her?”

“Of course I have told her!”he said, frowning in confusion before his mind caught up to what the baby implied ”... Ah! NO! It’s not like that!” Said Tsunayoshi, flailing around. “She’s  like my sister! I love her to bits but I can’t see her as anything else.”

Reborn huffed, but said nothing, and privately mourned the missed opportunity to use the Dying Will Bullet. “Then you are more pathetic than I thought.”

Tsunayoshi rolled his eyes, opening the gate to his house. “I’m home!” He called, leaving his shoes at the door, and trudging up to his room. Reborn followed him, jumping into a chair.

The kid looked around, and walked up to the bookcase, rearranging the books there, before going around and picking up the random bits and bobs off the floor. Since the kid had left the room pretty much spotless that morning, Reborn guessed he was just feeling anxious and was trying to delay.

Eventually, once the floor was clean and there was nothing else to distract him, the kid turned to him. “So, a mafia boss” He said, sitting heavily on his bed.

“That’s right. The 9th Boss of the Famiglia is old, and was preparing to retire and leave the family to one of his sons. Unfortunately, the three sons died. The most qualified to Inherit, Enrico, was shot in a feud.” He said, showing him a photo of the corpse of the man. “The second one, Massimo, was left to drown. And the third one, Federico, burnt to death in an arson.” He finished.

Contrary to his expectations, the kid didn't flail or freak out at the photos. Instead, he took them on his hands, examining them, and Reborn was surprised to recognize true grief on his face.

“My condolences.” He murmured, giving one last longing look to Federico’s photo before returning them to him. Reborn accepted them without comment, and in it’s stead took out the family tree he brought.

“So you see, the first Boss of the Vongola” and interestingly, the kid tensed at the name, “retired to Japan, and he is your great-great-great-grandfather. You are part of the bloodline, and a legitimate candidate to be a mafia boss.”

“I see.” He said, taking a look at the tree. “And why me, and not Iemitsu?” He asked, tapping with a finger the name above his.

“There are complications relating to him” Was all Reborn said, before snapping the family tree closed. “Do not worry. I will make you into a fine Mafia Boss.” said the hitman, pulling out a set of pajamas and starting to put them on.

Tsuna huffed “I’m not worried about that.” He said, pulling out his own set of pajamas and walking out of the room “because I will not become Vongola 10th.”

“Oh, you will” Answered the hitman, a sadistic gleam entering his eye as he pointed his gun to Tsunayoshi. “And the first thing on the agenda is for me to evaluate you in your academic disciplines. Hand over your homework.”

Tsuna closed the bathroom door, groaning as his new bruises twanged whenever he moved. Reborn was Spartan, with a capital S, and the last couple hours he had quizzed him on anything and everything, and when Tsunayoshi didn’t meet his criteria…

He winced again, but put the pain out of his mind. Right now he had bigger concerns.

Carefully, he pulled his cellphone from amongst the bundle of clothes.

“You were right about me.” was all he wrote. His thumb hovered for a second over the “send” button.

He was going to lose his oldest friend over this, and it was something he would never forgive his bum of a father.

But he had promised.

He closed his eyes, pressing the button. Tsunayoshi swallowed, trying to keep breathing around the enormous knot that had suddenly appeared on his throat, and forcing his eyes to open up. He left the phone near the sink as he undressed, and let the warm water wash over him for a while.

He heard the phone ping after a while.

With slow movements, he turned off the water, carefully pulling up the feet over the lip of the bath. The phone display had gone dark, and it was clouded from the shower steam. Tsunayoshi genuinely debated leaving it, or even deleting the message without reading it, but that was the cowardly way out. He took another deep breath, ignoring the ringing on his ears and the pressure on his temples, and opened the new message.

“I’m sorry. If there is anything I can do, let me know”.

Tsuna coughed, incapable of stopping the genuine smile and the tears that rolled down along his nose, and then he laughed, a short burst of hysterical giggles, and distantly felt his back hit the wall, but he was too high on relief to care.

“I’ll be fine for the moment. Don’t contact me tho, this guy means business, and I want to keep you as a surprise >:)”

“Wow, pissed you off already?”

“Not yet, but I can tell it’s a matter of time”

“You never did get along with egotistical ppl. I’ll lay low, good luck

… Ti amo.”

Tsuna smiled, warmth filling him.

“J’te aime aussi”

He slid down the wall, staring at the messages for a while, before turning his phone off and taking his clothes, stashing his phone back inside the bundle.

By the time he returned to the room, Reborn had made himself at home, stringing a hammock and sleeping soundly, even thoug his eyes were open.

Tsunayoshi put his clothes on the chair, and tucked himself into bed.

[kathleenseiber]

Methane emissions hit record-breaking levels

Global emissions of methane have reached the highest levels on record, research shows.

Growth of emissions from coal mining, oil and natural gas production, cattle and sheep ranching, and landfills are primarily driving the increases.

Between 2000 and 2017, levels of the potent greenhouse gas barreled up toward pathways that climate models suggest will lead to 3-4 degrees Celsius of warming before the end of this century.

https://svs.gsfc.nasa.gov/temp/d05978755/MethaneNarrationSM.mp4

This 3D volumetric visualization shows the emission and transport of atmospheric methane around the globe between December 9, 2017 and December 1, 2018.

This is a dangerous temperature threshold at which scientists warn that natural disasters, including wildfires, droughts, and floods, and social disruptions such as famines and mass migrations become almost commonplace.

The findings appear in two papers in Earth System Science Data and Environmental Research Letters.

In 2017, the last year when complete global methane data are available, Earth’s atmosphere absorbed nearly 600 million tons of the colorless, odorless gas that is 28 times more powerful than carbon dioxide at trapping heat over a 100-year span.

“People joke about burping cows without realizing how big the source really is.”

More than half of all methane emissions now come from human activities. Annual methane emissions are up 9%, or 50 million tons per year, from the early 2000s, when methane concentrations in the atmosphere were relatively stable.

In terms of warming potential, adding this much extra methane to the atmosphere since 2000 is akin to putting 350 million more cars on the world’s roads or doubling the total emissions of Germany or France.

“We still haven’t turned the corner on methane,” says Rob Jackson., a professor of earth system science in Stanford University’s School of Earth, Energy & Environmental Sciences (Stanford Earth) as well as leader of the Global Carbon Project.

More methane

Globally, fossil fuel sources and cows are twin engines powering methane’s upward climb.

“Emissions from cattle and other ruminants are almost as large as those from the fossil fuel industry for methane,” Jackson says. “People joke about burping cows without realizing how big the source really is.”

Throughout the study period, agriculture accounted for roughly two-thirds of all methane emissions related to human activities; fossil fuels contributed most of the remaining third. However, those two sources have contributed in roughly equal measure to the increases seen since the early 2000s.

A visualization of global methane on January 26, 2018. Red shows areas with higher concentrations of methane in the atmosphere. (Credit: Cindy Starr, Kel Elkins, Greg Shirah, and Trent L. Schindler/NASA Scientific Visualization Studio)

Methane emissions from agriculture rose to 227 million tons of methane in 2017, up nearly 11% from the 2000–2006 average. Methane from fossil fuel production and use reached 108 million tons in 2017, up nearly 15% from the earlier period.

Amid the coronavirus pandemic, carbon emissions plummeted as manufacturing and transportation ground to a halt. “There’s no chance that methane emissions dropped as much as carbon dioxide emissions because of the virus,” Jackson says. “We’re still heating our homes and buildings, and agriculture keeps growing.”

Emissions worldwide

Methane emissions rose most sharply in Africa and the Middle East; China; and South Asia and Oceania, which includes Australia and many Pacific islands. Each of these three regions increased emissions by an estimated 10 to 15 million tons per year during the study period. The United States followed close behind, increasing methane emissions by 4.5 million tons, mostly due to more natural gas drilling, distribution, and consumption.

“We’ll need to eat less meat and reduce emissions associated with cattle and rice farming, and replace oil and natural gas in our cars and homes.”

“Natural gas use is rising quickly here in the US and globally,” Jackson says. “It’s offsetting coal in the electricity sector and reducing carbon dioxide emissions, but increasing methane emissions in that sector.”

The US and Canada are also producing more natural gas. “As a result, we’re emitting more methane from oil and gas wells and leaky pipelines,” says Jackson, who is also a senior fellow at Stanford’s Woods Institute for the Environment and Precourt Institute for Energy.

Europe stands out as the only region where methane emissions have decreased over the last two decades, in part by tamping down emissions from chemical manufacturing and growing food more efficiently.

“Policies and better management have reduced emissions from landfills, manure, and other sources here in Europe. People are also eating less beef and more poultry and fish,” says Marielle Saunois of the Université de Versailles Saint-Quentin in France, lead author of the paper in Earth System Science Data.

What can the world do?

Tropical and temperate regions have seen the biggest jump in methane emissions. Boreal and polar systems have played a lesser role. Despite fears that melting in the Arctic may unlock a burst of methane from thawing permafrost, the researchers found no evidence for increasing methane emissions in the Arctic—at least through 2017.

Human driven emissions are in many ways easier to pin down than those from natural sources. “We have a surprisingly difficult time identifying where methane is emitted in the tropics and elsewhere because of daily to seasonal changes in how waterlogged soils are,” says Jackson.

According to the researchers, curbing methane emissions will require reducing fossil fuel use and controlling fugitive emissions such as leaks from pipelines and wells, as well as changes to the way we feed cattle, grow rice, and eat.

“We’ll need to eat less meat and reduce emissions associated with cattle and rice farming,” Jackson says, “and replace oil and natural gas in our cars and homes.”

Feed supplements such as algae may help to reduce methane burps from cows, and rice farming can transition away from permanent waterlogging that maximizes methane production in low-oxygen environments. Aircraft, drones, and satellites show promise for monitoring methane from oil and gas wells.

Jackson says, “I’m optimistic that, in the next five years, we’ll make real progress in that area.”

Additional coauthors of the paper in Environmental Research Letters are from Laboratoire des Sciences du Climat et de l’Environnement at Université Paris-Saclay; the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organization (CSIRO) in Canberra, Australia; the NASA Goddard Space Flight Center; the European Commission Joint Research Centre; the Center for Global Environmental Research at the National Institute for Environmental Studies and the Meteorological Research Institute in Ibaraki, Japan; the TNO Department of Climate Air & Sustainability in Utrecht, The Netherlands; and the Finnish Meteorological Institute in Helsinki, Finland.

Support for the research came from the Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation, Stanford University, the Australian Government’s National Environmental Science Programme’s Earth Systems and Climate Change Hub (JGC), and Future Earth.

Source: Stanford University

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[survivingafterus]

String of Consciousness

CW: Rape mention, child abuse, poor living conditions, mention of pedophilia, mental illness, self harm

Trying to conjure memories from the dust of traumas and misfortunes is aimless. Sometimes with a smell I feel sharp intakes of time flooding back to me, holding nothing but a vague idea of the memory tied to it. My earliest memory is from behind the bars of a play pen. I am being given gold fish crackers. I can’t be older than four. 

The deep, dark smell of Pepsi in the largest Texico mug you’ve ever seen winding into one with the comfortable chemical smell of Zippo lighter fluid. My father. 

It is immeasurably hard to recall the details of a moment in which your consciousness is disconnected to your body. I laughed. It was funny. Watching a grown woman jump up and down, screaming. Her face was red and she spit as she screamed, red hot frustration. Her teeth were yellow and streaky, like an unwashed egg. Her hair was wild and greasy, the result of inadequate parenting before her and sulfur-heavy well water. She is terrifying. When asked how I was abused I used to tell people it was never physical. I had been taught that hitting your child in the face and head was acceptable. 

I grew up without clean drinking water. I stole and hoarded food.

Salt and spices scoured our tongues before we hid the evidence and threw the bouillon cubes behind the propane tank we sat on. It was hot and we were young, poor, and desperately starved for entertainment. We wanted fun. The feeling of ice cold AC air on my bare legs as I lay on the love seat in the farthest corner of the house. Laying here is always a gamble, because spiders love to gather around the AC, and in Missouri the spiders kill you. 

The acrid smell of stale piss and rotting food hit me in the face each time I come through the door. There are ants in the bottom of the gallon of chocolate milk after it was left open. It’s hard to distinguish where the piss smell originates from, is it her 5 year old still in diapers or is it the smell of too many animals in one house? Maybe it’s the smell of negligent obesity and the limitations it set on self care, or maybe the desire for it? My best friend lived in this house. I spent most of my time in this house as a child. Marissa was the cheapest babysitter in town and my mom was busy. The sound of Rob Zombie music is played over the muted television, showing a healthy balance of SciFy and professional wrestling. Seeing her skin pulled over her fat body was shocking. Seeing his huge ass was traumatizing. When semi-professional wrestlers want to act hurt they cut their faces with razor blades. It was hot in the van and the smell of rotting food and trash only made the van ride more uncomfortable. JD was supposed to see his dad today and we had all driven together to drop him off. His dad never came to get him. Stains decorated the light blue walls, from food, from art supplies, from human feces. Staring out the window I focused on making it through the night. I was a paranoid kid. I was terrified. Stirring on the cot that had been set up in one of the children’s rooms I focused on making it through the night.

When I was around the age of five I thought that one could stretch their limbs out and suspend themselves under the bed, so if someone looked under the bed the person would be over their line of sight. I was always practicing hiding. Digging my way underneath my parent’s bed I’d watch my mother’s feet pass by, unconcerned with where I was. The thick weight of fur coats against my face as I hide inside my closet, thinking that as long as I had a barrier of outerwear I was invisible. I was safe. I knew that spiders lived in that part of my closet and still I practiced hiding there. The satisfying click of the pull string bulb in my mother’s closet rewards me with darkness as I push my way further into the mass of my mother’s wardrobe, wedging myself between elaborate lingerie outfits, dress-suits, and glitzy dresses. My mother always wanted to be seen. I just wanted to disappear. I was terrified of my room and my big bed. A wooden headboard beautifully carved cradled my twin size mattress, which in turn kept me frozen in fear at the shadows cast by trees in my windows. I saw myself sleeping, there in my bed, but I don’t remember the rest, or if there is “the rest”. My dad had a file of naked photos he had taken of our fifteen year old babysitter. 

Memories of Versaille float through the air, like scents that can’t be identified, fleeting and undefined. A waterfall. Other kids. All the world was green. I remember being scared. I remember sleeping in the rain in a tent with my best friend and her family. I get the memory of us looking over the crowds of tents and the scene in Harry Potter where they’re looking at a scene of tents mixed up. An albino peacock is something to awe at. 

It is hot and the door is open, leaving a thin gnarled screen as a filter to deter bugs. The Summer nights still hang within the nineties and the house is humid and wet. The sound of cicadas is a nice background to the hushed sounds of my mother speaking to her friend outside. She left that night and I was left to sleep on the couch. It looks like she’s peeing, the woman on the centerfold of Playboy. She sits on a fountain and sports very little, but just enough, body hair. The boy showing it to me is two years older than me, and his brother who is a year younger than I am stands with us. This Playboy is one of many in the trailer outside the house I slept in last night, where their grandfather spent the majority of his time (and may have lived there.) When I came home from my visit I told my mother I had showed people my boobies, because I felt like I had to. I was four. She then explained to me sexual assault and rape. Afterwards I told her I had been raped, she laughs it off as my having mixed up the definitions. I don’t know what happened, but I do know I was always a very smart kid. 

Life was a movie, and I was it’s disocciative director. Walking through life, narrating my adventures, even looking at the camera and speaking outloud. “Ah, my favorite show is on.” I would say and rub my hands together and make my way downstairs. The ornate stained glass lamp that sits on my grandfather’s antique rolltop desk illuminates my shadow and I imagine what I must look like descending the stairs. I am five or six. I sit at the bottom of the stairs and listen to my parents’ war. It’s shouting, he’s drunk, and she’s mean and desperate. Glass crashes as my father swings our dining room chair through the air, onto our kitchen table, breaking our chandelier and leaving a large crack running through the left side. Our side cupboard door never shut the same after he ripped it off it’s hinges. 

The smell of chickens gags me, as I cower in the hutch. I sit atop cracked and eaten eggs, one of our dogs had made short work of the nest. I am thirteen, maybe, and I am terrified. I sob into my knees and curl into myself and try to escape hell, but I never make it out of the hutch. It is hot and the bugs fly around me and get in my face. My face stings from sobbing and i feel red hot. My mother finds me in the kitchen and starts to scream at me. I am lazy. I am stupid. I am useless. I am being pulled through the kitchen by my hair, which falls down my back, sharing the shade and texture of my mother’s. When she does this I shut down. I don’t have an option. I can take anything as long as I can’t feel. 

There is a framed dollar bill in the girl’s locker room office in the basement of my elementary school. I imagine this field when I think of the Lovely Bones.

I never tried to hide it, I wanted to be seen. An arm, pale, dusted with freckles opens the door to the hall, the arm opposite stings with each small movement, breaking the thin scabs and sending fresh blood to mingle with the crusted blood from the hour before. It’s hard to count how many vertical lines have been opened on my skin, even if my arm weren’t covered in blood. I am reported to my high school nurse. She does nothing.

I walk down the five miles of gravel that connect us to Town. In my pocket is a cute kitty pouch with x’s for eyes. Inside is a varied collection of razor blades gathered from cutting apart my mother’s disposable razors. I cut as I walk, my whole arm is covered in blood. The dust sticks to my skin and sets on my wounds as cars pass me walking in the road. There are no sidewalks here. I make it just past the horse farm before my mother and little brother find me in their car. She doesn’t notice at first. She is mad at me for leaving to walk the five miles to look for my cellphone, which my mother threw out the window trying to throw it at my head. The lights on my Sony Ericson change color and help guide me to find it back. I don’t remember if I ever found it. My mother demanded I get in the car and my brother tells her I’m bleeding pretty badly. She starts to scream at me and tries to hit me in the head, demanding my razor pouch, this she also throws out the window. My skin turns orange as my mother roughly scrubs turpentine onto my split skin, telling me it should be burning. She was confused, turpentine does not burn when applied to skin. She wanted it to burn. There was a terrifying black and white portrait of a young girl around ten in a dress. It had to be taken in the late 1800s or early 1900s and it curled and started to sink in it’s frame. The ceiling my mother meticulously applied ornate paper to cracks and yellows and starts to sag. Dust covers everything so quickly, and what was a beautiful well kept home slipped to a kept enough, slipped to a dusty, dirty, clutter filled space, to a completely coated with dust and bird feed crumbs and powder. 

---------------

This essay was written for a college course. It’s intent is to use descriptive language to lay out scenes. It is also a huge mess of an essay, but I feel the descriptions are good.