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[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 48 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Aiden threw a tantrum when he found out he’d be assisting at the holiday show, and Courtney tried learning more about her best friend’s sister.

This Chapter: The Galactica Holiday Show very nearly goes off without a hitch...but not quite.

***

There were times, in this job, where Courtney couldn’t help but be extremely grateful to Violet for all the binders full of detailed instructions that she’d left behind.

Today was one of those times.

Courtney had never been to a showroom show, had no idea what to expect, and hadn’t even known they existed before Ivy had told her to put it in the calendar.

However, between Violet’s checklists and Ivy’s lead, Courtney felt like she stood half a chance of, at the very least, not fucking up too badlfy.

She’d spent last week pulling together everything they needed for the gift bags, from sponsors as well as Miss Fame’s preferred vendors, and made sure that she’d written everyone attending personalized notes as usual, thanking them on behalf of the company and Miss Fame for coming.

A last-minute change with the look books meant that they weren’t going to be ready until 6:30 am, so she’d been up at the crack of dawn to get to the printers in Queens the second they opened, now arriving at the venue holding the two heavy banker’s boxes, mind racing with everything she still had to do to make sure the day went smoothly for Miss Fame, calculating exactly how much time she needed to have her breakfast and coffee so that it would still be hot when she arrived later.

Courtney was so deep in thought that she almost missed seeing Tatianna, her friend standing at the elevator, bouncing nervously in her tennis shoes.

“Courtney!” Tatianna smiled. She was wearing a pair of tight fitting yoga pants and a white boxy t-shirt, a backpack over her shoulder.

“Tati!” she cried. “Hi! I would hug you but-” She motioned with her chin to the banker’s boxes.

“Here, let me help.” Tati took one of the boxes before she could protest, kissing Courtney on the cheek in the process, her lips silky smooth on Courtney’s skin.

“Thank you! I wasn’t expecting to see you so early.” Courtney was pretty sure that the models all had a 9:30 call time, and it was barely 8.

“I know, but I was all freaked out about the train being on time,” Tati explained, shrugging her shoulder.

“Well, I’m super relieved to see you.” It was true, Tatianna’s familiar face looking even more beautiful than usual. “I’m kind of panicking.”

“Why?”

“There’s just so many things that can go wrong, and I feel like I’m kind of over my head, and-”

The elevator doors finally opened on the showroom floor, revealing the bustling space that was formerly an extremely posh apartment, Ivy speaking to the event coordinator over by the bay windows, a lighting technician climbing a ladder nearby and a contractor stapling the last of the runway carpet to the floor so no one could slip.

Courtney had only been at the showroom once before, briefly, to pick up a suit for Miss Fame, but it had been totally renovated since then, nothing looking familiar, especially not the rows of white chairs set up for their guests.

She spotted the gift bag boxes that her and Ivy packed up and sent over on Friday, all stacked under a large folding table, and hurried over to set her banker’s box down, Tati on her heels.

“Thanks so much for your help. Let me try to find out where-”

“Court!” Ivy called out, walking over to her. “Hi, glad you found the stuff! By the time you’re done setting up the bags, I’ll have the names on all the chairs so it should be easy to put them out. And that door-” she pointed, “leads to the room we’re using for Miss Fame, so check it out and let me know if you’re missing anything.” She then noticed Tati putting down her box, and stuck out her hand. “Hi! I’m Ivy Winters.”

“Ivy, this is my friend Tati. She’s one of the models-”

“Of course! I should have guessed!” Ivy exclaimed, giving Tati her typically charming smile. “Come with me, I’ll show you where you can hang out until they’re ready for you. You’re a bit early, but that’s okay, because that means you get first choice at the craft service table!”

Courtney smiled, happy that Tati was being taken care of, praying that everything today would go smoothly.

***

“Feeling nervous?” Sutan looked over his shoulder as he made his way up the winding staircase to the Galactica showroom apartment.

The showroom was placed in an older building, Fame purchasing it when Galactica had finally started to make actual money, a proper showroom something she refused to pinch pennies on, and since they were still in business, it seemed like it had been the right decision.

“I’m not going to shit my pants if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Ha,” Sutan smiled, Symone two steps behind him, her long hair in a braid. The gorgeous girl was one of his newest hires, her 19th birthday only just ticking around. He still remembered the text he’d gotten from the scout, who had been scoping out some regional teen beauty pageants in the south. He’d seen her picture and instantly instructed the scout to book her a flight to NY. He hadn’t meant to keep her, hadn’t intended to put her on his roster, but he liked her, her fighting spirit lighting up any set she walked on, and so far, even though she’d proven to be a fast learner, he still felt mildly protective of her.

“Not what I asked,” Sutan waited for Symone to catch up, “But good to know.”

They had almost made it to the showroom, Sutan giving her one last look over before they made it to the door. He had picked her up at the modeling apartment she was staying at, making sure she had a light breakfast and plenty of water, her black jeans and white crop top close enough to approved that he hadn’t bothered to ask her to go back inside and change.

Sutan knew it was probably nepotism to make his sister take Symone on so soon after the holiday fittings, but showcases were a good way to test drive newer models, to see if they were ready to do bigger and better things, and Sutan had every hope that Symone could be big.

“Okay, so,” Sutan turned to Symone. “Remember what I taught you. Shoulders back, chin up, back straight. Be polite, be nice, do as you're told.”

Symone nodded, her eyes resting on Sutan’s face, taking in everything he was saying.

“And most importantly.” Sutan smiled. “Have fun.”

***

“Okay, so has everyone found their models?”

Violet smiled as Trixie was standing in the middle of what probably used to be a smaller living room, holding his little clipboard, Alaska, Kim and Amy set up for makeup and hair at the side of the room, Raven already in one of the chairs, a magazine opened on her lap.

“Yes coach!” Maxwell yelled back, the man with Yuhua from tailoring who was making the final adjustments to one of the models. On one hand, it was a little unnecessary for Violet to be there, her holiday gown done and ready to go, the finished styling of the models not a task that fell in her hands at all.

Still, she was happy to be there, happy to get to experience this, but most of all, she was happy she wasn’t Courtney.

Courtney had been running around, trying and almost succeeding in making sure that Fame was in a good mood. They had never had a chance to test run a showroom show, but Violet knew she had left behind a binder with instructions for Courtney, keeping Fame level one of the harder tasks on a day like today, since a large portion of Galactica’s budget depended on impressing the rich and powerful that walked through the door.

Violet had been backstage at several shows, but this was the first time she was really paying attention to the models. She never used to think about what agency models came from, or even the models themself. At Parsons, no one had been able to afford them, and as Fame’s assistant, she only needed to give a single call to have every agency in town jump at the chance.

“Violet!” Violet paused, the sound of her name coming from a voice she didn’t recognize. “It’s so good to see you!”

Violet turned, coming face to face with the angel she remembered from Halloween.

“Oh,”

Tatianna was just as gorgeous as she had been the last time she saw her. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, her brown eyes, golden-tan skin and bright white teeth apparently just how she looked.

“Hello-”

“I didn’t know you worked here!” Tatianna grinned, a cup of coffee in her hand.

“I do-” Violet cursed on the inside, the answer absolutely lame. “I haven’t seen you here before. Who are you with?”

“With?” Tatianna looked confused for a second. “Ah! You mean who I work for? So it’s actually kind of a funny story. I don’t really have a manager yet, but Courtney got someone named Max to take these headshots-”

“Violet!” Violet’s head snapped to attention as Tatianna was cut off, Trixie calling for her. “One of the model management models needs a robe. Can you find one for her?”

“Yes coach.” Violet nodded, thankful for the escape as she made her way towards the rolling clothing racks at the back of the room, Ivy stuffing them full of everything anyone could possibly need, the things toppling over if anyone breathed in the wrong direction.

***

Over the weekend, Aiden had taken the time to look deep within himself, tried to figure out the actual source of his discontent. Maybe it was silly to focus so much anger on Violet, just because she was brand new and already getting more chances and support than he’d gotten over a year. After all, it wasn’t her fault that she seemed to fall ass-backwards into every possible opportunity. Maybe she wasn’t the actual enemy.

Of course, the second he saw her on Monday, he realized that all of that was garbage: he hated her, and her face, and her stupid high ponytail and impractical heels. She was a stuck-up brat who didn’t appreciate how easy she had it. And besides that, her dresses were overworked and reductive.

Aiden had tried to stay calm, had tried to do what he was supposed to, which was assist and support.

Holiday was a smaller collection, which Aiden knew because he had been at Galactica for forever, unlike Violet, so there wasn’t that much to do, tailoring only sending them fully finished garments which didn’t always happen during the mad dashes that were fashion weeks.

Aiden had helped Kiara, and had even taken a trip downstairs to get a box of shoes, but he had quickly faded to the back of the room, standing amongst the racks with a cup of coffee, watching everyone else work.

He heard her before he saw her, Violet’s heels clacking on the floor as she made her way towards the racks with her stupid little scissors, the gold glinting in the light. She was probably going to go over the final check of the garments, snipping any and all loose threads, once again acting like she was better than everyone else.

Aiden was about to say something, but Violet didn’t notice him, didn’t even see him as she walked up, didn’t acknowledge his existence.

And that was the final straw.

It was an impulse. A whim. A passing thought. After a glance around the room to make sure nobody was watching, he did it--shoved the rack as hard as he could, causing both Violet and the rack to crash to the ground, Aiden not hearing the sickening crunch of Violet’s foot that got caught on the bar.

***

[So, any takers on when her majesty will lose her shit today?] Sutan smiled at his twin over the rim of his glass of mimosa. They were standing on the outskirts of the showroom, Ivy walking from white chair to white chair as she put showcards down, a big box under her arm. The showroom was set up in the classic style, a black carpet in the middle of the rows with several smaller circles on the corners so the models had time to twirl and really show off their garments.

He had tried to catch a glimpse of Violet when he had dropped off Symone, but he hadn’t been able to spot her, Raven chatting his ear off before he had made his retreat to go look for his twin.

[Don’t even joke about that asshole.] Raja smirked, her arms crossed, her own glass about half empty. She was looking absolutely stunning in one of her suits, her long hair up in a high ponytail, jewels hanging from her ears. [Also, I think we need a new nickname. Fame is catching on to majesty.]

[Ha,] Sutan snorted. He loved being able to speak Indonesian with his sisters, the language like their own little secret, the perfect way to gossip without being discovered. [We could workshop the upcoming storm?]

Raja laughed, just about to open her mouth, when they both heard a loud crash.

[What was that?] Raja turned around, Fame’s little assistant rushing by them as she ran backstage.

[It sounded like something falling?] Sutan hadn’t heard a scream, and even though he could clearly pick out commotion backstage, he couldn’t make out the sound of anyone crying. [I’ll go check.]

Sutan drowned his glass, giving his sister a smile before he started walking, hoping that it wasn’t anyone from Elite who had fucked up.

***

“Is everyone okay?!”

Courtney could feel her heart in her throat as she ran into the backstage area. She had been at the front, practically dropping the box she was holding the minute she heard the crash.

Several racks at the back of the room were toppled over, clothes everywhere in a gigantic mess. Courtney ran over, a circle of people blocking her way.

“Everyone!” Courtney heard Trixie, a surprising note of authority in his usually gentle voice. “Back off!”

They all did, Courtney now able to press her way forwards, forcing her body past Max, when she heard the last name she had expected.

“Violet.” Courtney made her way towards the front of the row, and there she was. “Violet. Are you okay?”

Trixie had a hand on Violet’s knee, and Courtney had never seen her look like this. There were tear stains on Violet’s cheeks, her normally perfect appearance frazzled and broken.

“Oh my god,” Courtney threw herself forward, scrambling to get on the floor next to Violet, her only thought being near her friend. “Violet, are you-”

“Courtney-” Violet looked at her, her brown eyes practically black, her mascara smudge. “My foot, I can’t- It got caught-”

Courtney turned her attention to Violet’s foot, easily telling which one it was since her shoe was strawn to the side.

“This one?”

Violet nodded. A bruise was already beginning to form, visible through her sheer stockings, her skirt around her knees.

“Kandy-” Courtney searched the group for the design assistant, finding her watching the scene with frightened eyes. “Go to the bar and ask for a bag of ice.”

“Okay!”

“Violet!”

Courtney turned to see Raja’s brother racing in, coming directly towards them. All she could remember was how, months ago in Fame’s office, he’d made Violet cry and forced her to leave -- and Courtney was in no mood to deal with some macho bullshit when there was a medical emergency.

“Don’t look at me!” Violet held a hand up in front of her face, clearly trying to shield herself from him.

“Lovely eyes-”

“Mr. Amrull.” Courtney tried to step between them, to help her friend, everything in her burning to protect Violet. “Please stay back, we’re trying not to-”

“That’s my fucking girlfriend!” Sutan exclaimed, ignoring Courtney completely and rushing to Violet’s side, crouching down by her head. “Violet. Please-”

Courtney opened her mouth to argue, but when she saw Violet reach toward him, Sutan grabbing her hand, Courtney realized that maybe his presence would be comforting to her, in spite of the bad taste he’d left in Courtney’s own mouth.

“Vi…” Courtney said gently, still kneeling at Violet’s feet. It was too early to see if there was any swelling. “Can you put any weight on it?”

Violet tested it, wincing deeply and then shaking her head no. “I’m sorry-” Violet’s voice broke, sounding almost embarrassed.

“Okay,” Courtney swallowed, trying to stay calm, “I think we need to call for an ambulance.”

“No! No no.” Violet exclaimed, holding up the hand that wasn’t clasped in Sutan’s. “I don’t need an ambulance. I’ll just ice it and take a cab after the show-”

“After the show?!” Courtney almost wanted to hit the other woman. “Violet, you are not staying here when you’re hurt!”

“I have to do my job.”

“Lovely eyes-” Sutan tried to cut in, the panic in Violet’s voice rising.

“I made a huge mess and-” Violet reached for her throat, her fingers scratching her neck. “I can’t just-”

“Violet.” Trixie cut in, Courtney genuinely forgetting that he was still there, his tone leaving no room for arguments. “We’ll take care of this. All I want is for you to be okay. Kandy is calling an ambulance for you and-”

“No, please-” Red splotches had shown up on Violet’s cheeks. “No ambulance, I can’t afford that, I’ll-”

“How are you even going to get yourself downstairs to a cab?” Courtney sighed. She’d never been able to get used to the fact of how expensive everything related to healthcare was here, how people had to worry about money when they were lying on the ground with a possible broken bone. “You can’t go to the hospital on your own-”

“I’ll take her,” Sutan said gently, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, and Courtney smiled slightly. Maybe she’d misjudged him.

“But what about your-” Violet looked up at Sutan, the man taking most of her weight.

“That’s not important. I’m coming with you, even if I have to carry you out of here.”

“Please,” Violet snorted, her panic forgotten for a moment as she smiled. “Don’t be ridiculous,”

Just then, Kandy rushed back in with the ice, and so Courtney decided to give up the fight, helping to find Violet’s bag and coat, instructing Kandy to take them down the service elevator, knowing that Miss Fame would be furious if they interrupted the party, even for an emergency.

***

Violet couldn’t remember ever feeling this embarrassed in her life. She was leaning against Sutan who had said a few words to Raven before taking off, the man supporting her like it was the most natural thing in the world as they entered the service elevator.

Violet had never been more grateful for how overprepared she was, the pair of foldable ballet flats she always kept in her bag almost making it bearable to move. She had no idea how she’d face her coworkers when returning to work, thick shame curled up in her belly, the pain in her foot the only reason she hadn’t fought harder to redirect the attention, everyone staring at her without a doubt showing up in her nightmares.

Violet had no idea how the entire accident had even happened. One minute, she’d been ready to do the final check Trixie had asked of her, completely in her own world, the next, several racks had taken her down.

The only explanation Violet could come up with was that she must have accidentally kicked the rack, that her foot had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, that this was her fault.

Violet didn’t know if her dress would be okay, if her coworkers could salvage the mess she had made, but she hoped that she hadn’t ruined anything, and that she still had a chance to keep her job.

***

Bianca strolled into the Galactica showroom, impressed by the renovation that had apparently taken place since she was last inside. At least one wall had been knocked down, opening up the space and allowing the light to pour in through the bay windows, and all the furniture was brand new, what appeared to be lovingly restored antiques. She looked around, finally spotting the bar and walking over. It was only halfway through the workday, but since it was a holiday week, she figured it was fine to indulge.

As she waited for the world’s slowest bartender to make her cocktail, she turned around again, surveying the room. Most of the guests were high-end buyers, socialites, people known for spending big bucks on couture. Bianca knew a few in passing, socially, but this really wasn’t her crowd. She sighed, annoyed, wishing she’d just asked for a glass of wine.

Just then, there was a stir in the room as Miss Fame appeared, making her way graciously through the crowd and finally greeting Bianca with a delighted smile.

“Bianca! Darling!” Fame was a vision in white, the creamy fabric hugging her hips, the short cape sleeves and the knee length her signature silhouette, gold glittering from her fingers and ears. “So glad you could make it!”

“Of course, blondie, I wouldn’t miss it!” Bianca gave her friend a couple of air kisses and a hug, careful not to crease her clothing. “So, will I be impressed?”

“It’s my most fervent hope,” Fame said, sounding so drily sincere that Bianca couldn’t help but laugh.

“How’s your jaw?”

“My jaw?” Fame raised a perfect eyebrow.

“You know, days like this...it must really ache from sucking all this metaphorical dick.” Bianca gestured towards the clientele around the room, then turned slightly to pick up the cocktail that was finally ready for her.

“Ugh, really Bianca,” Fame scolded, nose wrinkled distastefully, but she couldn’t keep up the act, soon letting a smile pull at her mouth, giving Bianca’s arm an affectionate squeeze.

It was then when Bianca noticed a petite blonde hovering timidly by Fame’s shoulder, shifting from foot to foot. Courtney was obviously trying to get to her boss, but afraid to interrupt.

She looked absolutely adorable--a short, classic black A-line dress with a starched white Peter Pan collar, hair held off her beautiful face with a narrow black headband, clipboard in hand like a dutiful little assistant. Bianca caught her eye, dimples appearing in her cheeks as she smiled.

“Hi Courtney.”

“Hi.” Courtney returned her smile as she stepped closer. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, I’m-”

“It’s okay, do your thing. Nice shoes.” Bianca gestured to her Mary Jane style Gucci heels, knowing that they were probably procured second-hand and even then, probably a prized possession to someone on Courtney’s salary. The delighted expression on Courtney’s face at the compliment confirmed that she was right, a smile that made her glow from the inside.

“Bianca,” Fame said. “How on earth do you know my assistant?” Her face was still smiling, but with slightly gritted teeth now, her eyes telling a clear story.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Bianca winked at Courtney, whose cheeks began to turn a charming shade of pink.

Fame turned her head and flashed Courtney a dangerous look, causing her to stammer out, “Oh um, I’m just… Bianca’s sister is my best friend, Miss,” cheeks reddening even more.

Letting out a mildly terrifying laugh, Fame responded, “How very delightful! What a small world we live in. Courtney dear, is everything alright backstage? On track?”

“Oh yes! That’s what I came to tell you. The situation has been handled and they’ll be ready to go in twenty minutes as planned.”

“Good.” Fame turned back to Bianca, dismissing Courtney with a little wave and, “That’s all.”

Courtney nodded, taking the signal and hurrying away. Bianca watched her go, and Fame watched Bianca, her eyes narrowing.

“Bianca Del Rio…”

“What?” Bianca turned back to Fame, batting her thick black eyelashes innocently.

“Do not. Even. Think about it!”

“Come on, I’m only human…” Bianca flashed a dimpled grin.

“I am serious. Leave her alone. Or I will end you.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared! You gonna nag me to death?”

“Bianca…” Fame’s eyes narrowed again. “I am telling you. Do not. Especially not this week when I already have my in-laws to deal with, and-”

“Alright, alright. I’ll wait until next week.”

“Bianca!” she huffed, and Bianca let out a loud cackle at her enraged expression.

“Would you calm down? Angel face over there is straight.”

Fame shook her head. “Yes well…So’s spaghetti until you get it wet. ”

Bianca laughed again, raising her class. “Cheers to that, blondie!”

[crossiantgay]

Ch 1 of the Logince Princess and the Frog au!!!

This is my biggest fanfic by f a r . Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: voodoo, frogs, brief mention of food

Words: 5049

“Now here I’d like to tell you a story. A story that takes place right where we are, in the Big Easy. Down here in Louisiana, there’s a city you may have heard of, way down by the River. Does New Oreleans ring a bell? The place where jazz is always playin’ and you’re always guaranteed a good time. The lifestyle we live is as slow as the Mississippi. But you’ll have a treat down here in New Orleans. Oh, you haven’t lived if you haven't had a good bowl of gumbo with some grits. Or hear that smooth jazz that just sweeps you off your feet, mm, that’s the good stuff. If you want to truly live, come down to New Orleans to do it. We’ve got magic, sure do. Good and bad in New Orleans. Give ya what ya want but take what ya have. My dream since I was a youngin’ was to see New Orleans. You know, everybody got dreams. Rich people, poor people we all got dreams. This story I’m about to tell you focuses on one boy’s dream and the unusual way it comes true. Oh, this is a story of magic and love, plain and simple. The weird ways fate ties us together. Alright, I’ll stop stalling. You ready?”

“Please, I’m going to get the funds, I swear-” Logan begged to the bankers. 

“I’m sorry, where do you expect to get all this money? We can’t offer you a loan until we believe you can get the money to pay us back” They said, not budging a bit. 

“But-”

“We have made our decision.” An attendant escorted him to the door.  He gruffed and walked out. 

He had been saving up for so long for this library and a building finally opened up that he could buy, only for some big wigs to come in and make an offer higher than he could bid. This was his mother’s legacy, his dream. He just had to get this library, he didn't know what he’d do if he didn’t. He sighed, walking to his work at the school. He picked up a paper on his way to teach science at the Middle School in the area. It didn’t pay much, but it was the best job he could get. The paper’s headline was 

“Prince Roman of the Carnacty family coming to New Oreleans!” Logan sighed. Always ex-celebs who run out of luck coming to all the big cities to get their name in the headlines. He walked in the front door, greeting the attendant lady. His kids were already in the classroom, patiently waiting. Their mouths were going a mile a minute, he was trying to just get a snippet of the conversation. One kid said kind of loudly,

“I can’t believe he’s coming to New Oreleans! A real prince!!!” 

“Well he’s gonna marry me, I can already tell” One of the girls scoffed. He tried his best to stifle a laugh. It was well known the prince wasn't exactly into the princesses. Well, neither was he for that matter. Women were just so… dramatic. They all stopped talking as the bell rang, piercing through the room. Announcements crackled over the intercom, telling the kids that Math Club had been postponed and the basketball game tonight. He stood up from his desk, highly caffeinated and began teaching the kids. Amelia and Lucas raised their hands several times to ask questions during the lecture as expected. He let out a sigh of relief as the bell rang once again, signaling the end of school. He filed out quickly after the kids. He was supposed to meet with his dad today, one wednesday a month they got together to talk. God bless his father, when Logan was a child, he tried so hard to support Logan financially he rarely got a chance to spend with his son. But now that Logan was off on his own he and his father had some more time to spend together.  

He met his father on the block they’d agree they’d meet. He wanted to show his father the building he had his eye on for awhile. Technically they weren’t supposed to be there but oh well. He walked up the dusty stairs and pushed open two heavy dark oak doors to reveal an empty building with a staircase leading up to a second story. There were big french-style windows on the walls, illuminating the dusty room with a beautiful golden-white light. The building itself was made of bricks that were painted over a creamy tan color. Logan’s mind flooded with images of neat rows of bookshelves, with fluffy pillows and seating arrangements scattered around. The floors, polished to a shine and half of the upper floor dedicated to an information area and classes, taught by anyone who wanted to volunteer. But best of all, there would be a plaque on the back wall, visible right when you entered, saying “Dedicated to Mary L. Berry”. He would make his mother proud, do something right for once. He snapped out of his thoughts as his father said, 

“Sure is a fixer-upper” His dad chuckled a bit. 

“Well of course. I would rather add my own furnishings and make it my library than buy a dollhouse. There is so much room for improvement!” He walked towards the center of the building, getting bathed in light. 

“Isn’t it just astounding?” There were stars in his eyes. 

“Well, sure is… something.” HIs father tentatively walked towards Logan. The light died in his eyes. 

“...what? Is it not adequate?” The light died in his eyes as he turned towards his father. “If there’s anything you don’t like about, we can fix it” Logan’s father sighed and put a hand on his son’s shoulder. 

“Bub-” Oh no. His father only called him bub when something was wrong. “You don’t get money like this from teaching- or for waitering for that matter, either. Maybe something a bit smaller?” 

“It’s for mom though- it’s what she would have wanted” 

“First of all, she only wanted you to be healthy and safe. Second of all, you should be doing this for you, not to rekindle the embers of your mother’s dying dream.” Logan sighed. 

“I want to be a librarian though- It’s my dream, too” His father looked at him worriedly.

“If your heart’s in the right place, bub… either way, how are you going to get the money? People like us can’t afford such a lovely place.” 

“You like it?” Logan said excitedly. HIs father shot him a pointed look. 

“I’ve been saving up. I have enough to meet the market price” His father knew he wasn’t telling him something but he let it go. “I have been waiting so long for this, and it’s finally in my grasp. I just have to work a few more overtimes and I’ll-” His father cut him off. 

“Woah woah woah. I asked you before if you had the money. Do you or not?” Logan looked to the side. 

“There’s a higher bidder” 

“Oh…” 

Logan sighed and walked over to the door and opened it, rising up a cloud of dust. 

“We should go, we’re not supposed to be here anyway…” Logan’s dad gave a curt nod and tipped his hat. His father hailed a cab and hopped in. 

“See you soon!” He hollered as the driver took off. Logan nodded and waved as his father disappeared down the street. He sighed and let the tears that he was holding back roll down his cheeks as he looked to the building. 

“I was almost there…”   

(------)

One of his coworkers taunted him. “C’mon, the Mardi Gras party held by Charlotte every year is tonight. You guys grew up together, you should go!” He rolled his eyes and straightened his tie. 

“Mardi Gras parties are frivolous events where people get dressed up like little kids and get drunk on mimosas. Does that sound like something I would enjoy?” 

“Aww, you’re no fun.” His coworker whined.

“I am plenty of fun!” He huffed and put his hands on his hips. 

“Well if you were really fun you’d join us.” 

“Fine… I’ll go to your little party or whatever.” His coworker smiled.

“I knew I could convince you! It's a costume party, so dress up!” His coworker hollered from down the hall. He sighed. What had he gotten himself into? 

(~~~~) 

“C’mon Remus! We’re finally here! There are places to go, people to meet! Hurry up!” Roman hollered from up the street. Remus huffed as he adjusted to the bags he was holding. Roman’s bags. While his brother was what, talking to one of the locals? His brother never helped with anything. It was always up to Remus. 

“If you could maybe help I wouldn’t be so far behind” 

“ALL I HEAR IS EXCUSES, BROTHER! LET’S GO!” He didn’t know why Roman insisted on calling him ‘brother’. The way he treated Remus was as if he was a servant, not a royal. But of course, because Roman was first in line for the throne, nobody really cared about Remus. Was his name in the papers? Nope. It was just Roman’s. Everything was Roman, Roman, Roman. Remus grudgingly quickened his pace as he followed his brother. 

“Isn’t this a lovely city?” Roman stretched out his arms. 

“Yeah…” Remus mumbled. 

“...is there a problem, brother?” Remus rolled his eyes. 

“No, everything’s a-ok” Roman sighed. 

“What is it, and let’s not let your terrible mood leave a stain on this vacation” Remus did his best not to punch his brother in the face. He sighed. 

“Nothing…” Roman smiled. 

“Then let’s go, see the sights, eat the food!” He sped ahead and Remus sighed. He watched his brother talk to another shop owner. He looked up and Roman was being escorted into the man’s shop. 

“WAIT-” Remus rushed in behind him. He turned a corner into the entranceway for the shop his brother went into. He looked up as he left the bags outside. The sign on the top of the door read 

“Dr.Janus’s Fortune Tellings and Palm Readings” This was insane. Stick it to his brother to get his fortune read. You stay rich and Mom and Dad make you marry. You inherit the crown and you live happily ever after. It didn’t take a genius to know that was what would happen. Well, he had the money to spend. He sighed and walked into the building. The ‘shop’ had a high ceiling and dust coated the floors. The place was very poorly-lit, the only light in the building coming from a few lamps hung from the walls. Speaking of the walls, they were a dark mauve. They were ordained with intricate-looking masks, of every color and shape. 

“SSSit down, gentlemen.” The lean man ushered them to a dusty and old looking circular brown table. As the man turned to them, he saw half of the man’s face appeared to be covered with scales. 

“Welcome, you’re in my world now, not your world. I’ve got friendss on the other sside.” The man’s voice was slippery and he was drawing out his s’s. Roman faked a smile and nodded. He didn’t want to be rude but this was creeping him out. 

“Sit down at my table, Put your minds at ease, if you relax it will enable me to do anything I please.” The man’s long tailcoat swished behind him as he turned and smirked. 

“I can read your future, I can change it ‘round some, too” Roman’s disgust soon turned to awe.

“Really?”

“Really, yes.” He smirked and grabbed a black top hat from one of the hooks on the wall. 

“I'll look deep into your heart and soul,” he looked to Remus and nudged him. “You do have a soul, don’t you, Remus?” Remus sat back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. 

“How do you know my name?” 

The man, who he assumed to be Dr.Janus, turned over his shoulder. His light brown eye almost seemed to glow yellow as sunlight caught it. 

“I have my wayss…” He glanced over at his brother and his brother was wiggling in his seat, Roman looked as if he was about to watch a magic show. Dr.Janus pulled a deck of cards out of his sleeve and placed them on the table. He pulled out some other things, a ragdoll and a pendant.

“I’ve got voodoo, I’ve got hoodoo, I’ve got things I ain’t even tried,” He ran a gloved finger over the designs that were etched into the wood pendant. 

“And I’ve got friends on the other side.” Roman looked worried. 

“Hey, Remus, maybe we should go, we have that um, royal thing we have to attend. Remus caught his arm and pulled him down back into the chair. 

“C’mon, brother, right when things get interesting you wanna scatter?” This act had piqued Remus’ interest. “You always tell me to be brave, why not take some of your own medicine?” Roman looked to his brother and sighed. Dr.Janus swallowed and began shuffling the cards. 

“The cards, the cards, the cards will tell, the past, the present and the future as well.” He laid down three cards to demonstrate. 

“Thesse are Tarot cards, cards that have a deep connection with the other side” Remus thought he was seeing things as a red light flickered in the ‘eyes’ of one of the large masks on the back wall. “The cards, the cards, just take three. Take a look into your future with me” He fanned out the cards face-down and displayed them in front of them. Remus eagerly grabbed three cards and Roman tentatively followed suit after. Dr.Janus motioned for the boys to flip the cards over, grinning.  Roman flipped the first one over, first. It read ‘the sun’ and had a very detailed gold inking of the sun in the center. 

“You, young man, are from across the sea,” Dr.Janus began. “You come from two longs lines of royalty.” Roman flipped the other card over. It read ‘the hermit’; with another gold design on its ‘face’. “Your lifestyle’s high,” Dr.Janus turned the card upside down. “But your funds are low. You’ve got to marry a little sonny who’s daddy’s got dough” Roman raised an eyebrow and Remus laughed.

“Really? Ol’ Mommsies and Popsicle cut you off?” Remus laughed and clutched his stomach. Roman elbowed his brother. 

“I understand. You just wanna enjoy life, be free. Hop from place to place. But freedom takes green.” Dr.Janus rubbed his fingers. “It’s the green, it’s the green, it’s the green you need.” Dr.Janus flipped over the next card. “And in your future it’s the green that I see” The card read ‘ten of pentacles’ on the top of it and a gleam flashed in Roman’s eye as he grinned. Dr.Janus turned to Remus. 

“On you, young man, I don’t want to waste much time, you’ve been pushed around all your life,” Remus scowled and Dr.Janus flipped over the first card. The card read ‘justice’ on the top and was upside down. “You’ve been pushed around by your mother and your father and your brother,” Remus knitted his brows. “And even if you were the best you can be, you’d still be pushed around” Dr.Janus turned over the next card and it read ‘the fool’, also upside down. Remus glared at Dr.Janus and Roman held Remus back from lunging at Dr.Janus. Dr.Janus, however, was unmoved. 

“But in your future, the you I see,” He turned over the final card. “Is the man you’ve always wanted to be” This card read ‘chariot’ and was upright. 

Dr.Janus took off his gold gloves to reveal scaly hands. He extended a hand out to each of them. 

“Shake my hand, c’mon boys, won’t you shake a poor sinner’s hand?” 

Remus eagerly shook his hand quickly and Roman hesitated before giving a strong shake of Dr.Janus’s hand. 

“Yessss,” The man hissed and his right eye glowed yellow. Smoke filled the room. 

“Are you ready? Are you ready?” There was a strong beating noise, almost sounding like footsteps or a heartbeat. Roman felt his forearms tighten and he looked down as two golden pythons twisted themselves around his arms, pinning him to the chair. Weird shadows danced across the walls and Remus thought he could almost hear other voices. 

“Transformation central,” Dr.Janus hissed as he held up the wooden pendant.”Transformation central,” He walked over to Roman, unfazed by what was occurring around them. His scales on his face and hands glowed yellow in the shift of lighting and the smoke.

“Transformafication central, can you feel it?” Roman yelped as something pricked his finger. Smoke filled the room up to their heads and the boys’ vision was obscured. 

“You’re changing, you’re changing, you’re changing, all right,” The man’s yellow eye and scales were the only things visible to the thick fog encompassing them. The beating grew steadily louder as Remus felt a pendant slip around his neck.

“I hope you’re satisfied. But if you ain’t, don’t blame me,” His eye and scales glowed bright yellow, almost blinding them.  “you can blame my friends on the other side” And as Dr.Janus uttered that last word, the beating stopped and everything became encompassed in darkness. They could still see the aftershine of the man’s eye and scales long after it faded out. 

(~~~~)

Logan hovered by the snack table, not wanting to get dragged onto the dance floor and be made a fool of. Patton hurried over to him, in a baby blue dress. 

“Isn’t this just amazing? And rumor is Prince Roman’s supposed to get here soon! Imagine us! Meeting a real prince!” Patton’s golden curly hair flew up as he jumped in excitement. Logan smiled and toasted a glass. “By the way I love your prince costume You see, Larry and his wife are a horse over there, lovely costume. And your coworker, Daisy is dressed as a- I’m not quite sure. Anyway, I’m going to go see if the prince is here yet!”

“Knock yourself out, Pat” Logan forced a smile and watched as Patton hurried out to the dance floor. 

(~~~~) 

Remus awoke groggily. He sat up slowly and looked down. 

“Wha-” He sat up and looked at his hands. They didn’t look like his. These weren’t his clothes, either. No- he couldn’t- He rolled up his sleeve and his suspicions were confirmed. His brother had a scar on his bicep, from when they got in a swordfight as kids. 

“Who did this?” He yelled. 

“I see you’re up,” Dr.Janus hissed from another room. 

“What did you do to me?” He shakily stood up and gripped the side of the chair. He felt like he was walking in too-big shoes. Dr.Janus walked out of his office and stood beside Remus.

“Now, what you’re going to do is you’re going to go to the party tonight. There’s a boy, Patton Hudson. His father is the richest person in New Orleans. If you’re able to woo him, you’ll be rolling in the dough. You’ll be more famous than even your brother. Doesn’t sound spectacular?” Remus nodded and Dr.Janus placed two firm hands on Remus’ shoulders.

“I can do that,” Remus nodded, now sure of what he had to do. 

“Good boy. One thing, however.” Dr.Janus placed his hands on the necklace and lifted it up. Remus shuddered as he looked down at his hands again. Callused and worn, unlike his brother’s smooth ones. 

“Don’t take this necklace off or the illusion will fail. Alright?” He slipped the necklace back around Remus’ neck and he nodded. He smirked and ran a hand through his brother’s soft, brown hair. 

“Let’s do this.” 

(~~~~) 

Logan sighed as he rested his hands on the balcony railing. He watched as a glowing prince made his way down the stairs to the partygoers. Of course, once he did, Patton was the first to greet him. Logan sighed. He didn’t get the obsession people had with this prince. 

“I know. I look absolutely hideous in that outfit.” Logan jumped back as he looked to his left where the voice came from. 

“Who said that??” he looked around worriedly. All he saw was a frog sitting on the balcony railing. 

“Over here, monsieur.” Logan looked at the frog. 

“I need to sit down. I think there was something in that drink. There is NO WAY a frog is talking to me” Logan gripped the railing as he appeared to turn a bit pale. 

“Well think again. It is I, Prince Roman” The frog hopped closer to Logan. 

“No- the great Prince Roman is out there dancing with Patton Hudson.” 

“Pfft! That is not I! That must be someone else.” Logan scoffed. 

“Well then who is it?” 

“I’m not sure. I should have never talked to that man. Now I am a slimy frog while someone is using my body. And they say fairy tales aren’t real-” Logan turned to Roman. 

“Wait what man?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“It was Dr.- something. He had a black hat and yellow gloves-” Logan’s eyes widened. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been messing with Dr.Janus. Nobody messes with the snake man- everyone knows that.” Dr.Janus had dark magic. You didn’t mess with him. Of course Logan had heard the rumors of strange and unworldly things happening to people that talked to him. 

“Well I just got here 2 days ago and I guess I must have missed that on the brochure.” Roman snapped and  Logan sighed. 

“I feel bad for you, but what can I do about that?” Roman looked down and Logan raised an eyebrow. 

“... you could kiss me. I know it sounds insane, but if this is anything like that children’s story, I need to be kissed to be turned human.” Logan jumped back. 

“You mean that fairytale, the Princess and the Frog? Those are fiction books for children!” 

“Well then do you have a book detailing what to do if you get miraculously turned into a frog by any chance?” Logan sighed. 

“Either way, I’m not kissing a frog. No way Even if you weren’t a frog I wouldn’t kiss you. I just met you.” Roman let out a scoff. 

“I am not that ugly!” 

“I never said you were ugly.” Logan said flaty. 

“So you think I’m cute?” Roman wiggled his eyebrows and Logan felt a heat rise to his cheeks. 

“No-NO- I never said you were cute either-” 

“But you think it,” Roman smirked. 

“You are really arrogant, you know that?” Roman blinked. “And stupid, too. It means self-centered.” Roman mouthed an ‘oh’. 

“I am not arrogant! I am gorgeous!”

“Well if not that then you sure are stupid. I’m not the one that got myself turned into a frog.”

“Speaking of that-” Roman cleared his throat. 

“No, for the last time I am not kissing you.” 

@subtlereferencetomyinterests

[badchoosey]

Perfect Match, Book One. Chapter 1: True Love, Guaranteed

You walk down a bustling Brooklyn street, the sounds of the city humming all around you. 

Karma: (Hope I’m not late!)

Soft music plays as you step into the hip venue of an upscale art show. 

Karma: Nadia! Hey!

You spot your cousin, Nadia, among the crowd. Her face lights up as she approaches with arms outstretched and wraps you in a tight hug!

Nadia: Karma! I’m so happy you made it!

Karma: Are you kidding? The opening of your new art collection? I wouldn’t miss it for the world. 

Nadia: Honestly, I have no idea how it blew up. But who am I to argue with the review of an art critic?

Karma: You mean glowing reviews from dozens of art critics?

Nadia: Oh, shush! Anyway, that’s not what I was excited about. 

Karma: Then what is it?

Nadia: I want you to meet my boyfriend!

Nadia waves over to a handsome man from across the room…

Nadia: Steve! Come say hi to my cousin!

Steve: Hey! You must be Karma! I’ve heard so much about you. I’ve been dying to meet you for weeks, but I’ve been busy at the animal shelter. 

Karma: Oh! Do you work there?

Nadia: Steve’s an investment banker. But he volunteers at an animal shelter. Amazing, right?

Steve: Ah, it’s nothing. I’m just a guy who likes to do some good in his free time. Nadia here is the amazing one. The way her art makes me feel… It’s indescribable. 

Nadia: Aww, sweetie!

Steve: Now, if you’ll excuse me, Karma, I’ve got to replenish the hors d’oeuvres. We’ll talk later! My mini-quiches are going fast!

Steve gives Nadia a kiss on the cheek and hustles off. Nadia sighs, beaming. 

Nadia: Did I mention he bakes? He bakes. So… What do you think?

Karma: No one is that perfect. I’m calling bull. How much are you paying him?

Nadia: Ha, ha. Don’t be mad that I’ve found the ultimate boyfriend!

Karma: Really though. Where did you find this guy?

Nadia: I met him through a matchmaking service. They asked me some questions, then found the perfect man for me! They’re very exclusive. Super selective with their clientele. But I’m sure they’d accept you in a heartbeat!

Nadia reaches into her purse and hands you a business card. 

Nadia: You should try them out!

Karma: True love, guaranteed? I’ll believe it when I see it!

Nadia: That’s not a nooo…

Karma: I mean… What the hell? I’ll give it a shot. You’ve piqued my curiosity.

Just then, a voice calls to you from the crowd… 

Damien: Don’t tell me Nadia has got you drinking this ‘matchmaking’ service Kool-Aid too, Karma. You of all people don’t need some fancy matchmaking service. 

Your good friend Damien saunters over, seamlessly switching his empty champagne glass with a fresh one from a server’s tray. 

Karma: I’ll take that as a compliment. But you can’t argue with the results. Steve seems like a catch. 

Damien: Yeah, I talked to Mr. Perfect on the way in. Haven’t found any flaws or dark secrets yet. But give me time. 

Nadia: Really, D? We’ve known you for like, four years. I thought you would’ve dropped the tough, cynical act by now. 

Damien: I’m a private investigator. I catch liars and cheaters for a living. ‘Cynical’ is basically my job. 

Nadia: Don’t listen to him, Karma. He’s like the Grinch when it comes to love. Eros is the best matchmaking service ever! I’ll schedule you an appointment for a consultation!

Damien: Yeah! A vague, secretive company providing little to no contact information… What could go wrong? Just keep your guard up, Karma… Maybe bring pepper spray, or hold your keys like claw. 

Nadia: Ignore him. It’ll be amazing! I know you’re gonna find someone perfect for you!

Karma: Can’t wait!

Later that week, you arrive outside the address Nadia gave you. A sleek, unlabeled complex towers above you…

Karma: (Okay, this is a little weird. Not so much as a logo on the door. But the address looks right…)

You push through the glass doors to enter a warm, inviting lobby. A stunning woman strides gracefully across the room, the steps of her heels echoing through the halls. 

Cecile: Karma Park? My name is Cecile Contreras. I’m the Head of Matchmaking here at Eros. Welcome! You got here on the J train, didn’t you? I hope getting to the new Quincy Station wasn’t too much of a hassle. 

Karma: Uh, thank you… How did you know--

Cecile: We’ve done our homework. Eros has been expecting you, after all. Your cousin Nadia gave you a glowing referral. I’m excited to begin. Please, follow me. 

You follow Cecile through the pristine halls of Eros Incorporated…

Karma: I’m still a little overwhelmed by this whole thing. How can you guarantee true love?

Cecile: A good question. Love is a complex thing. But here at Eros, we’ve used the latest in behavioural science and technology to devise the most sophisticated matchmaking system in the world. 

Karma: So you think you’ve got people figure out… with some algorithm?

Cecile: Your personality, your wants, your needs… All of that makes you unique, like a puzzle piece. But somewhere out there is a piece that fits flawlessly with you. An exact complement. A perfect match. Our technology helps sort through the pieces to find yours. Simply put, the human heart is precisely out expertise. 

Karma: Sounds like a sales pitch. I’m not so easily won over by the slogans and buzz words. 

Cecile: Touche. But we stand by every claim. Give us a chance to convince you, and I promise you’ll be satisfied. 

Karma: Well… I’m already here. 

She leads you into a peaceful, softly lit room. A sweet, floral aroma and calming music fill the space around you. 

Cecile: Welcome to our consultation room. This is where we’ll be conducting our Perfect Match questionnaire. 

Karma: Is this the part where I tell you my middle name, my hobbies, and where I went to high school?

Cecile: Nadia sent us the personality profile you filled out, so we already have the basic information we need. Today will be all about finding out what you’re looking for in a match. 

Karma: Oh… Okay… So why does this place look more like a day spa than a quiz room?

Cecile: Oh, I assure you, our questionnaire is more than just a quiz. It’s a comprehensive interview, monitoring not just your words, but your biorhythms, your excitement, your emotional engagement… As such, we want you to be perfectly at ease. 

She invites you to sit on a reclining chair in the middle of the room, and instantly your mind drifts as you sink into the shockingly comfortable seat. Cecile sits on a chair beside you with a tablet in hand. 

Cecile: Simply place your hand on the palm scanner, and we can begin. 

You place your hand on the smooth surface of the chair’s arm. It hums and glows, and soon a soft chime sounds in sync with your own heartbeat. The lights in the room dim as your mind drifts, peacefully… 

Cecile: Now, relax. Close your eyes… focus on the sound of my voice… and speak from your heart…

Cecile taps on her tablet. You hear her voice from a distance as your eyes close… 

Cecile: I have twelve brief questions. Please answer as honestly as you can. 

You’re on a first date. Which makes you want a second:

Talking for hours about everything?

Being intrigued and left wanting more?

Karma: Being intrigued and left wanting more. 

Cecile: When traveling abroad, your perfect match would rather take you:

To explore ancient ruins, just the two of you

To a lively festival, bustling with locals

Karma: To explore ancient ruins, just the two of you

Cecile: You’re transported into a fantasy novel. Which character is more attractive?

A magnetic ruler, leading and inspiring the people

A silent, formidable warrior, fighting evil from the shadows

Karma: A silent, formidable warrior, fighting evil from the shadows.

Cecile: Your favorite childhood playground is being torn down. Your perfect match:

Takes you there for a farewell picnic

Steal you a piece of it to keep forever

Karma: Steals me a piece to keep forever. 

Cecile: Who do you imagine your partner hung out with in high school?

A close-knit group of friends

A rowdy bunch of outcasts

Karma: A rowdy bunch of outcasts

Cecile: Your match appears in a dream with an animal companion. What kind is it?

A fierce, wild hawk

A loyal, noble golden retriever

Karma: A fierce, wild hawk. 

Cecile: Complete the sentence. My perfect match can always:

Makes me laugh until I cry

Say the right thing to comfort me when I’m down

Karma: Say the right thing to comfort me when I’m down

Cecile: What would your ideal partner sing during a karaoke date?

A love song dedicated to you

A ridiculous theme song, just to tease you

Karma: A love song dedicated to me

Cecile: Your perfect match has just defeated a supervillain. What do they do next?:

Righteously condemn the villain’s actions

Spout a witty catchphrase

Karma: Righteously condemn the villain’s actions

Cecile: Your travel plans have fallen through. What does your partner do?

They point blindly to a map, and plan a new adventure on the fly

They have you covered no matter what, backup plan and all

Karma: They have me covered no matter what, backup plan and all.

Cecile: How would your partner clear out a building full of zombies?:

They devise a brilliant plan and execute it flawlessly

They charge in, guns blazing!

Karma: They devise a brilliant plan, and execute it flawlessly.

Cecile: You’re at a casino, and your partner is winning big. Why is that?

They take big risks, and it pays off

They’re savvy and calculating, and play the odds

Karma: They’re savvy and calculating, and play the odds. 

Cecile: You’re doing wonderfully, Karma. We have enough to find you a suitable match, but first, I’d like to ask if there’s anything in particular you’re looking for… I’m going to list a few traits that your potential match may possess… Let me know if any of them resonate strongly with you. For those who prioritize physical intimacy, we have many candidates with massage skills. We can refine our search to animal lovers and pet owners, who are often compassionate and kind. If you’re drawn to creative, artistic souls, we can match you with musicians. Last but not least, many people seek the culture and intelligence of someone who speaks many languages. Which of these appeals to you?

Karma: I’m looking for someone with a magic touch. 

Cecile: An excellent choice. Would you like to distinguish your preferences further? Remember, there’s no shame in being picky when it comes to love. You’re absolutely worth it. 

Karma: I’m fine with my selection. 

The lights in the room brighten, and you are suddenly aware of your surroundings again. Cecile looks up from her note-taking and smiles warmly at you. 

Cecile: That concludes the questionnaire. Not so bad, was it? Based on your responses, we’ll determine which of our sixteen personality types best describes your Perfect Match. I’ll have your results in a moment…

Cecile taps on the tablet before turning it to show you the display… 

“Your perfect match is an Activist… - mysterious, rebellious, sincere, logical - … Someone with passion, drive, and vision, an Activist fights to change the world… and will fight just as hard for you!”

Karma: Wow. Just like that? Are you sure this type is the match for me?

Cecile: Skepticism is completely understandable. But I encourage you to trust the system. I think you’ll find that our system may surprise you. 

Karma: Well… I guess I could give it a shot. So… What next?

Cecile: Next? Simply leave the rest to us. We’ll find the most compatible partner for you in our database and arrange your first date. You’ll be hearing from us soon!

Karma: Sounds like a plan. And what happens after that?

Cecile flashes you a wink. 

Cecile: Why, true love, of course. 

You step out of the Eros building into the brisk night air, the New York City skyline towering above you. 

Damien: Made it out of the Mystery Company in one piece, huh?

Karma: Damien? What are you doing here?

Damien leans against his old muscle car, pulling his jacket tight against the cold. 

Damien: Check your phone, lovebird. I called you a couple times. Wanted to make sure you hadn’t joined a cult, or bought a timeshare or anything… And also offer you a ride home. 

Karma: You just wanted the dirt on this Mystery Company, huh?

Damien smiles. 

Damien: Wow… You know me too well, Karma. Come on. 

Soon, you’re watching the city lights streak by through the passenger window of Damien’s car as you catch him up on your day. 

Damien: So, really… this Eros thing. You’d think you’d just swipe left and right like other apps. No, you know, go to a day spa for a fancy interview. 

Karma: Maybe it’s a little… unconventional, but it seemed legit to me. 

Damien; Unconventional is an understatement. But hey, whatever makes you happy. 

Damien pulls the car to a stop outside your apartment building.

Damien: … I actually mean that too. I want you to be happy. 

Karma: Oh, really? No sarcasm this time? No snarky retort?

You catch Damien’s eye as a slight smirk spreads across his face…

Damien: Despite my unflappably cool facade… I do have the capacity to care about someone. Occasionally. 

Karma: Don’t get sappy on me now, Damien. 

Damien: Wouldn’t dream of it. 

One afternoon that weekend, you’re lounging in your apartment when a knock sounds on the door. You open it to find… 

Nadia: Karma! I’m guessing you haven’t left your apartment today. 

Karma: What makes you say that?

Nadia: Because if you stepped outside, you would have noticed this on your doorstep!

Nadia hands you a pristine display of flowers with an envelope attached! You open the card inside…

Karma: It’s from Eros! ‘Dear Karma, True love awaits! We’ve found someone special for you, and have already arranged your first date. At the end of the night, we’ll survey you both separately. If you both feel a connection, you’ll be declared a Match! You need only come with an open heart… and leave the rest to destiny.’ 

Nadia: Well, I came here hoping to ask how your appointment went, but I guess I have my answer! I remember when I got my letter from Eros… I was so excited! This is gonna be amazeballs! Right?!

Karma: I think there better be a money-back guarantee. 

Nadia: Ugh, you’ve been hanging around Damien too much. Let yourself be hopeful! This match they’ve found is going to be great for you!

Karma: Let’s hope so. The details on the card say that Eros has scheduled our first date… For tonight!

Nadia: Wait, what? We’ve got to get you ready!

Soon, Nadia is leading you on a last-minute shopping trip. She pores over the card from Eros as you browse through outfits. 

Nadia: Tonight could be the start of your beautiful, perfect love story, Karma! You’ve got to make a good impression! Luckily, Eros has you covered!

Karma: What do you mean?

Nadia This card from Eros includes some style suggestions based on your Perfect Match’s taste! Perfectly tailored to impress him!

Karma: They can do that?

Your cousin pulls an outfit from the rack…

Nadia: This one! It fits the suggestion perfectly! Try it on!

Karma: I think I’m just going to go as I am…

Nadia: Well… if this person really is your perfect match, they should love you regardless! I trust in the system!

As the afternoon goes on and the sun starts to set, you finish prepping with Nadia… When a sudden knock at the front door sounds! You hurry over to the living room with Nadia in tow!

Nadia: Ohmygod, ohmygod… He’s here. Answer it, quick! Tonight will be the start of your beautiful storybook romance!

You try to calm your cousin as you open the door…

Karma: Relax, Karma. It doesn’t have to be a ‘storybook romance’. No one is expecting this night to be--

Hayden: Hi, I’m Hayden. You must be Karma….

Karma: I… um… wow.

[mhiyoung08]

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It is assumed that the reader of this document is familiar with some basic understanding in probability calculation and terminology. In order to get statistical significant results, millions and millions of games would have to be played. Caribbean Poker is a very popular type of game. There is a beautiful legend about its appearance, which says that this game of chance was invented by pirates in the late nineteenth century. Let's talk more about this. It is played in major casinos in China (including Macau); the United States (including Boston, Massachusetts; Las Vegas, Nevada; Reno, Nevada; Connecticut; Atlantic City, New Jersey; Pennsylvania; Mississippi; and cardrooms in California); Canada (including Edmonton, Alberta and Calgary, Alberta); Australia; and, New Zealand.

Switzerland is a country where three different cultures, namely German, French and Italian, coexist yet maintaining features of their own, such as language and many traditional aspects, which obviously include playing card patterns. http://www.bbc.co.uk/search?q=카지노사이트 In Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, the laughable Mr. Collins sits down to a game of whist at a Longbourne party. If the Dealer opens and your hand beat the Dealer, players are paid Even Money for the “Ante” and the appropriate odds for the Bet. If the Dealer’s hand beat your hand the Dealer shall take both your Bet and the Ante. If your hand qualifies for a jackpot payout, the Dealer will pay the jackpot amount after your Bet and Ante have been paid. The hand with the lower value is called the front hand, and the hand with the higher value is called the rear hand.

Thought up one summer night by Austrian gamester Walther Marseille, Ph.D., rules were first devised for a fifth suit based on a green or invulnerable suit. In 1937, a book for rules using the fifth suit was written in Vienna, Austria, and patented for this set of rules. To see all of our articles on poker rules and advice, go to our main article on How To Play Poker. A more likely explanation for suit marks, he says, is that they were commissioned by wealthy families. Court Card  &  Face Cards  (or  figures ) If  there are only 3 face cards per suit,  court cards  may  include aces too. Originally, the highest-ranking cards in a suit were the  four  face cards:  king, queen, knight and jack.  Aces were the lowest-ranking members of a suit.  This remains true in tarot decks. At least one modern tarot deck  (The Alchemical Tarot  by  Robert M. Place)  has two female figures in the court:  King, Queen, Knight and Lady. For tarot packs, the locutions  court cards  and  face cards  are synonymous.  In decks containing only three face cards per suit, however, the aces are normally considered to rank above the king and they belong to the  court.  Thus, there are always four court cards.In most decks with three face-cards, the missing face card is usually one of the two  knaves  (the remaining one is dubbed  jack  in modern English). German Decks :Traditional German decks have no queens;  the three figures are male: A crown identifies the king  (K for  König ).  Next is the cavalier, riding a horse, called  Ober  (O).  Last is the so-called  Unter  (U or B for  Bube ). Modern German decks follow the international tradition by retaining the king  (K)  the queen  (D for  Dame)  and only one knave, called  Bube  or  Bauer (B)sometimes also known as  Junge  or  Wenzel. The first card ladies were French : The earliest extant record of female card figures dates back to  1392,  when the painter  Jacquemin Gringnonneur  delivered to Charles VI three decks he had been commissioned for.  In those decks, the cavaliers were replaced by queens.  This was before the invention of the tarot deck, which has  both  cavaliers and queens.  The royal treasurer, Jacques Poupart, paid Gringnonneur 56 sols parisi for his work.  This was apparently all it took to set the French pattern of 3 face cards which is dominant today.

In the recent films Now You See Me and Now You See Me 2, the Four Horsemen are magicians who fool the public in dramatic stunts. But in real life, they were the connoisseurs of basic strategy in the ‘50s. The game is played in rounds and these "Pass" and "Don't Pass" bets are betting on the outcome of a round.Deck celebrating the union of Brittany and France with Spanish suits but has queens instead of knights Antoine de Logiriera of Toulouse, c.1500. Here is a list of 20 fun and interesting facts about blackjack.

It is a game that is played like a five card stud poker game, but on a table that resembles a blackjack table. The game makes use of a standard 52 card deck and the players have to beat the dealer, not the other players. In order to win, the dealer must first qualify, so players can win even with low ranking hands if the dealer doesn't have a qualifying opening hand. In Europe and South America they are permitted at many or most holiday resorts but not always in cities.Club membership is required and easily obtainable. It is the ratios that are accurately predictable, not the individual events or precise totals.

Whether you’re in Las Vegas, London, Melbourne, or Macau, land-based casinos all share similar traits, from the way they reward players to the rules they expect you to follow while in the casino. Although awarding direct money prizes for pachinko is illegal, it is possible for parlors to reward players with golden tokens which can then be sold for cash at nearby exchange centers.Even lesser bettors are offered reduced-fare transportation, hotel rooms, free drinks and cigarettes while gambling, and other inducements. Because the probability of throwing a seven is 1/6, on average one throw in six would be favourable and five would not; the odds against throwing a seven are therefore 5 to 1.

This varies across games and is usually expressed as a percentage. The higher the percentage, the more the casino is keeping. A 2005 survey found that in the previous year, United States patrons made 319 million casino visits -- about seven times the 1990 total. 메이저토토사이트추천 These games are usually played for modest stakes, although the final game of a session is frequently a coverall game that offers a larger jackpot prize for winning within a certain quantity of numbers called, and a progressive jackpot is one that may increase per session until it is won. Many articles have been written about playing Blackjack in order to beat the dealer.

Payout is based on the odds that this is possible, based on the difference in values of the first two cards. Since 13 May 2002, it can be played legally in licensed casinos in the United Kingdom, under The Gaming Clubs (Bankers' Games) (Amendment) Regulations 2002 (Statutory Instrument 2002/1130).All winning wagers are paid true odds less a house commission,[5] which ranges from 5% to 25%[7] depending on the time and place. A working bet is a live bet. Bets may also be on the board, but not in play and therefore not working. Pass line and come bets are always working meaning the chips are in play and the player is therefore wagering live money.

[subtly-badass-blog]

$106.00 (Part III)

Part I Part II

The last installment. A big thank-you to @emi-loves-them for motivating me to do this, and to @tripleaaaqueer and @friendlyinternetmeerkat for proofreading!

Sanders Sides fic

Platonic Moxiety

2018

“Virgil.”

     He felt the bed depress under someone’s weight. A hand gently took hold of his shoulder. “It’s breakfast time, Virgil.”

     He kept his eyes stubbornly closed. “What time is it?” he mumbled through stiff lips.

     The hand moved up to his head and gently stroked his hair. “About seven.”

     Virgil groaned and grabbed his boyfriend’s pillow without looking, putting it on top of his head to replace the hand. “It’s Saturday.”

     “It is,” the voice replied sweetly as the hand moved back to his shoulder. “And I very kindly made breakfast for you. But time is of the essence, and if that food goes cold, I shall be immensely displeased with you.”

     Virgil’s eyes, unseen under the pillow, snapped open. His boyfriend was known for putting his money where his mouth was. Still, Virgil kept the fear out of his voice. “It’s not my fault you got up at the butt-crack of dawn,” he whined.

     The hand began constricting his shoulder. “Virgil,” his boyfriend said softly. “If you don’t get up right now, I will start singing.”

     That galvanized him into action. Virgil sat bolt upright and swung his legs out of bed.

     With uncanny speed, Logan caught the pillow he had sent flying. “I didn’t mean that fast,” he laughed.

     Virgil tried to smile at him, but the light streaming through the window made him squint, turning the smile into a grimace. “I’m just eager to display my love,” he muttered hoarsely.

     “And your hatred for my singing,” Logan noted.

     Virgil shrugged and rubbed his eyes. “You sound like a robot.”

     Logan put a hand over his heart. “I’m touched.” He then walloped his boyfriend lightly over the head with the pillow. “Come on, Verge, I made you waffles! And we still have enough of that whipped cream left over for you to make crystal clear to me just how little regard you have for your health!”

     “Such little regard,” Virgil echoed, rubbing the back of his head. He pulled on a pair of jeans from the floor and followed Logan into the kitchen.

     They had moved in together after they had both moved out of the branch (Logan as a district manager, Virgil as a sales manager). Logan had suggested it as “a practical way to conserve money and earn better living situations for the both of us,” but Virgil had always suspected that his crush on his former manager was reciprocated. Sure enough, the relationship was made official a month after that. Being bankers, the two were never the type to throw around money, but together they could live comfortably.

     Virgil did eventually tell his boyfriend the whole story about what had happened that day, and Logan didn’t flinch when he heard that he was living with someone who had once almost committed armed robbery. He simply kissed Virgil on the forehead and said one thing on the matter: “That was a really dumb idea.”

     The two of them tried to find Patton after that, but it was too late. “He left us a little while ago,” Roman told the couple, “and I’m not sure I feel comfortable divulging his information to strangers.”

     Nevertheless, Virgil was constantly on his toes, hoping to run into his savior by chance. Every day, on the bus to and from work, he scanned the passengers for a familiar face. When walking outside, instead of training his eyes on the sidewalk like he used to, Virgil kept his gaze high, searching. Entering a restaurant, a store, anywhere-- he looked. Logan had caught him several times sitting at the window of the apartment, sipping a mug of Earl Grey tea, eyes flitting back and forth over the people below. These tactics had actually led him to find his fifth-grade teacher, but not the man who had saved his life.

     Logan didn’t know it, but Virgil always kept one hundred six dollars in cash on his person. He wanted to repay the debt, couldn’t stand the thought of not even trying. One day, he would.

     Virgil blinked at the breakfast Logan had prepared. “Wow,” he had to say. Logan had brought out the waffle-maker and, evidently, made waffles from scratch. There were bowls and whisks in the sink, and flour was sprinkled on the counter. The final product was in front of his seat at the table: a plate with two buttered waffles that were lightly drizzled with syrup. The can of whipped cream sat at the ready beside them.

     Logan spread his arms wide, proud of his accomplishment. “Behold,” he declared. “Breakfast.”

     Virgil snorted at his dork of a boyfriend, but sat down anyway. “All right! To what do I owe such a pleasure?”

     Logan shrugged as he sat down across the table. His plate held more waffles (his appetite was much larger than Virgil’s) and some assorted fruits. “It’s been a busy couple of weeks for you, so I knew you haven’t been eating enough lately.”

     Virgil smiled at him-- a bright, genuine smile. “And you didn’t even try to force me to have eggs.”

     “Much as I disapprove of your diet’s overabundance of carbohydrates and lack of proteins and lipids, I knew it would be useless, yes.”

     “What about you? Where’s your daily egg?” Virgil asked, spraying on the whipped cream.

     “I had it when I woke up. Oh,” Logan added, a forkful of waffle hovering precariously in front of his mouth, “that reminds me. We’re out of coffee grounds. Do you think you could hop over to Starbucks sometime later today?”

     “Sure.” Virgil watched in fascination as the can of whipped cream spluttered itself out.

     “Hey. Hey.” Logan grabbed it out of his hands. “There’s enough snow on that waffle to cancel school. Take it easy.” He tossed the can across the room, where it bounced off the edge of the counter with a clang and rolled across the floor to Virgil’s feet.

     He frowned down at it. “Were you aiming for the sink?”

     Logan winced. “The recycling bin.”

     Standing in line at Starbucks and holding a bag of coffee grounds, Virgil took a look around (he had already searched for Patton). The sun was particularly bright today, washing through the windows and across the floor like the tide. He was suddenly struck by just how uplifted he felt, right then and there.

     “Good morning, sir, how can I help you?”

     Virgil spun around to see the barista watching him expectantly. He stumbled to the register. “Hey, sorry. I’m just here to buy this bag of grounds.” He took another look at the simply beautiful glow of the room and amended his statement. “And a tall mocha, please.” He wanted to stay for a minute.

     He sat in the middle of the illuminated room, sipping the mocha and enjoying the sun. These were the little moments, and Logan never quite understood why Virgil liked them so much. Moments that could never have happened ten years prior. Virgil chuckled to himself. Ten years ago, he could never drink coffee. He couldn’t afford to sit in a Starbucks and waste time; he would’ve been hunting for a job or putting in overtime. He couldn’t have read a book for pleasure, or cooked a healthy meal, or gone to the nearby park for a walk. Looking back, of course, Virgil saw that there had been several options available to him outside of robbing a jewelry store. For starters--

     Someone jostled into the table, disrupting his train of thought. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” the man apologized, moving past.

     Virgil waved it off, even though the man wasn’t looking. “It’s fi--”

               Patton.

     His breath caught. His heart stopped. His brain went blank. Except for one thing:

               Patton.

               Patton.

               Patton.

     His heart was beating again, the only sound in this slowed time; the name throbbed in time with the blood in his ears.

               Patton.

     He was here. Here, after all this time. Sitting down now, in the corner with a hot chocolate and a newspaper. Like a dream.

     The anxiety kicked in, bringing him rushing back to normal time. I can't go over there. I have to go over there! What if he calls the cops? I have to give him his money. Thoughts swirled in his head like a tempest.

     Virgil took a deep breath and steeled himself. Whatever happened, all he had to do was go over there and deposit one hundred six dollars in cash on the other man’s table. Then his life could be at ease.

     He stood and braced himself against the table until the dizziness passed. His other hand stayed in the pocket of his jacket, clutching one hundred six dollars in the palm of his now sweaty hand.

     Patton looked up as he approached and pulled off his readers. Virgil studied his face and found no hint of recognition. It hit him like a prizefighter’s punch: he doesn’t remember me.

     He coughed. “Uh... hi. I’m sure you’ve forgotten about me, but um...” He scratched his head. “Ten years ago, you kind of saved my life. And I’m in a much better place now, all because of you.” He analyzed Patton’s face again and found it politely confused, although now it was becoming more bewildered and concerned. Virgil rushed on, stammering. “So, uh, I’ve been wanting to repay you for what you did for me, and you don’t have t-to say anything, but just...” He heaved a sigh; his shaking hand freed the cash from his pocket and placed it on the table. One hundred six dollars.

     Patton’s eyes widened. He looked from the money to Virgil’s face, speechless. Virgil turned away.

     He felt liberated, as he walked away. The sun lit him golden, and his shoulders were now light as well. It didn’t matter that Patton didn’t remember him. It didn’t matter that they would never see each other again. It had been set right. He was content.

                  “It’s... Virgil, right?”

[mycryptosuite]

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[readingsrantsrambles]

When Pittsburghers banked at the Post Office

By Christopher W. Shaw 

Published by the Pittsburg Post Gazette - May 12, 2020 

https://www.post-gazette.com/opinion/Op-Ed/2020/05/12/Christopher-W-Shaw-When-Pittsburghers-banked-at-the-post-office/stories/202005120014

Restoring banking at post offices would affirm a national commitment to basic economic fairness

As millions of Americans shelter at home to reduce the spread of coronavirus, and the economy enters a sharp recession, postal workers have continued to make their daily rounds delivering our mail. But while the U.S. Postal Service survived the Civil War, two world wars and the Great Depression, the economic fallout of COVID-19 threatens its continued existence.

Yet even though the Postal Service requires emergency federal financial relief now due to declining mail volume, this crisis also presents an opportune moment to secure critical future revenues. It is time to restore the sorely needed banking services that post offices offered for much of the 20th century.

From 1911 to 1966, millions of Americans deposited billions of dollars in the Postal Savings System. Because banks focused on businesses and affluent customers, working people often lacked bank accounts. This widespread financial exclusion led these ordinary citizens to turn to Uncle Sam and demand savings accounts at the federal government’s extensive network of post offices. Once this service was established, any American could walk into a post office and open a savings account.

The forgotten history of the government’s savings bank is one that native Pittsburgher Richard Brean remembers well. Growing up in the 1950s and 1960s, he worked in the Hill District at his father’s drugstore, Jay Drug, at the corner of Centre Avenue and Roberts Street. Many customers saved their money at nearby post offices. “At that time,” Mr. Brean recalls, “the relationship between Pittsburgh’s banks and the Hill was one of malign neglect.” Banks had “redlined” the predominately African American Hill District, refusing to make loans on properties in the Third and Fifth Wards no matter how creditworthy an applicant was.

“My father, who was white, was welcome to do Jay Drug’s banking at Potter Bank (a predecessor to today’s PNC),” Mr. Brean states, “but Potter, despite my father’s excellent credit record, refused to grant him a loan to construct a new storefront.” If his father had been black, he would have found it difficult to obtain any banking services. “All but a very few Pittsburgh banks shunned black customers,” Mr. Brean explains, “and even a passbook savings account would have been out of reach for most black Pittsburghers.”

Through the Postal Service, however, the federal government combatted this entrenched discrimination. Mr. Brean emphasizes that “black residents of the Hill had a nondiscriminatory alternative to the banks: the United States Postal Savings System.” Black and white, rich and poor, the Postal Service provided all Americans with inclusionary access to savings accounts and low-cost money orders.

“Postal money orders surged through the economy of the Hill,” Mr. Brean remembers, “and at Jay Drug they were a common means by which our customers paid for prescriptions.” There was a deeper meaning underlying these simple transactions. “Using postal savings and postal money orders was a symbol of black financial independence,” Mr. Brean observes, “rooted in the long and proud relationship between the African American community and the United States Post Office which, in an America where most employers’ doors were firmly shut to even the most qualified black applicants, was regarded by blacks as offering a meaningful chance for employment and at least some opportunity for advancement.”

Throughout its existence, bankers claimed postal savings was unnecessary, until they finally lobbied the service out of existence. Yet today, 9 million households of all racial backgrounds are handicapped by their inability to maintain a bank account. Around 12 million consumers spend hundreds — and even thousands — of dollars annually on small, short-term loans from the $90 billion payday loan industry. With dwindling numbers of bank branches, it’s becoming increasingly difficult just to find a conveniently located bank, especially in poor urban and rural areas.

In addition, banks simply do not offer accounts that are designed for low-income Americans. A sizable minimum deposit is required to maintain an account, and banks impose any number of high and unpredictable fees. These barriers have driven the “unbanked” to check-cashing outlets, where they spend on average almost $200 a year just to obtain their money. Still, these businesses are easier to access than banks and offer more transparent fees.

The Postal Service could benefit working people nationwide by again offering bank accounts at thousands of local post offices that are close at hand whether one lives in a big city or a remote hamlet. A postal bank that prioritized access and affordability would open up new opportunities for those who currently don’t use banks to establish low-balance checking and savings accounts. Small-dollar loans with generous grace periods would be another valuable financial resource to low-income Americans. By assessing reasonable fees for such services, postal banking would be tailored to meet the needs of the unbanked while still providing additional revenues to help the Postal Service maintain universal delivery on an equal basis to all Americans.

Historians and economists have called the mid-20th century the golden age of capitalism. It was a period when progressive taxation, dynamic government programs and strong unions helped create a thriving middle class. When the Postal Service promoted access to a savings account, it nurtured both economic mobility and security. With more than 1 in 8 Americans living in poverty, there’s little hope of promoting economic equality as long as millions of working people struggle to obtain the necessary tools to manage their money. Restoring banking at post offices would affirm a national commitment to basic economic fairness.

Christopher W. Shaw is the author of Money, Power, and the People: The American Struggle to Make Banking Democratic, and Preserving the People’s Post Office.

First Published May 12, 2020, 4:45am

[luxuryparfait]

Soft Pink [Epilogue]

As soon as Shaw got home, he got to work. 

Although the newspaper article about the police closing in on the Guillory Family was no lie, predictably the organization remained almost totally untouched in the end. Thankfully though, it provided a convenient excuse for Shaw’s disappearance- as far as his mother was concerned, he sensed the tension and decided to go underground and wait it out. 

Blanche Guillory had no particular response. She welcomed him back, and things almost seemed to return to the normal Shaw had gotten so used to before his escapade upon the Echo Express. But it wouldn’t remain that way forever. It couldn’t. Rather than managing his club and commanding his underlings, he spent making phone call after phone call, tracking down what records he could on the internet, and carefully making the preparations to finally start a new life. 

With the time to leave finally upon him, Shaw took a deep breath and stepped into his mother’s office, a single pink, plush suitcase in tow. 

“Mom, I’m leaving.” No matter what sort of speech he could have prepared, in the end, this was all he could say. 

“Going on an adventure?” With no discernible tone in her voice, Blanche eyed his suitcase and took a drag of the cigarette that was always between her fingers. With her golden-grey hair pulled tightly into a bun with not a single hair out of place, fur coat, and gaudy diamond necklace, it was easy to see the influence she had on her son. Blanche Guillory was a woman that knew precisely how powerful she was. 

“That’s right,” Shaw puffed out his chest slightly, feeling more like a child with every passing second, “And I’m not coming back.” Blanche only took another drag in response. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me. I’m who am I am because of you... but this life isn’t what I want. I’m going to start my own, without the Guillory name.” 

Shaw looked as hard as he could for any small chance in his mother’s facial expression- the tiny crack of a smile, a wrinkle between her eyebrows- but to no avail. Rather, she paced slowly around her desk and reached under it to produce a silver, glittering pistol. He instinctively drew back, but before she could react she had effortlessly tossed into her free hand, gripping the muzzle and holding the handle out to him. 

“Shaw, I knew from the day you were born... you would either be this family’s future, or it’s end,” Shaw took the pistol and felt its weight in his hand, “Don’t mistake this for a blessing, son. I pray we don’t catch you.” 

Shaw nodded and turned out the door. “Maybe I’ll write you sometime.” 

“Don’t bother,” Blanche didn’t even look back as she walked leisurely back to her desk. To anyone else, this may have been the worst kind of insult, but as Shaw saw the smallest, most obscure hint of a smile in his mother’s face, he knew that was only her way of saying that she knew he would be fine. 

As he sat in his car outside the bar they had all agreed to meet at, Shaw made one final perusal of all the files he had gathered during his time at home. Most importantly were the locations of Allen and Roland’s families, along with a few public tidbits about their lives. He had attempted to gather information on the other passengers, but without their names this proved to be much easier said than done. Still, he did what he could. 

As he stepped out, he felt his brand new ID nearly burn a whole in his pocket. He took it out for what must have been the hundredth time today and read over every bit of information. It was him in the picture, of course, but it wasn’t Shaw Guillory. Not anymore. 

Ryan Kim. 

Jonathan Kim had been his father’s name. Burying himself in his research, he also managed to find out more about his father than his mother had ever told him. He was a first-generation citizen, a banker before he met Blanche, with a completely clean criminal record. 

Shaw- no, Ryan, stepped into the bar. Although he looked a bit different, he was immediately recognizable as the Strawberry Luxe that had strutted onto the Echo Express with entirely too many suitcases and bags behind him. He looked for 2 intimately familiar crops of white hair and waved the group down, his precious files already open as he reached them. 

“Let’s get this party started, everyone~” 

[caveartfair]

The Enduring Legacy of Joseph Duveen, America’s First Mega-Dealer

Portrait of Joseph Duveen, 1910. Photo by George C. Beresford/Beresford/Getty Images.

Thomas Gainsborough, The Blue Boy, Portrait of Jonathan Buttall, ca. 1770. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

Joseph Duveen, the man who would go on to completely change America’s relationship with art, was born above his parents’ antique shop in 1869. Duveen would eventually bring thousands of artworks over from Europe, which eventually formed the foundations of countless American museums. And if you know what to look for, his eccentric business practices and firmly held beliefs about what constitutes important art inform the Western art canon and the art market to this day.

His father, Joseph Joel, was born Joel Joseph Duveen in the Netherlands and moved to the port town of Hull, England, in his early twenties. There, he began his business by traveling back to the Netherlands to source Dutch teacups, saucers, and Delftware, then returning to England, where he would re-sell them. Before long, he graduated from teaware and was returning from these trips with medieval tapestries, valuable furniture, a famous set of ginger jars, and all manner of housewares. Within three years of moving to Hull, he had married a woman named Rosetta (who was already one month pregnant with Joseph), and the two had set up and moved into the antique shop above which Joseph was born.

Rembrandt, Aristotle with a Bust of Homer, 1653. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

Joseph, whose life and exploits are extensively recounted in Meryle Secrest’s hefty 2005 biography Duveen: A Life in Art, was the oldest of 15 siblings. He dropped out of high school to help with his father’s antique business. Joseph’s uncle Henry, who also aided in the family’s blossoming business, was on assignment in New York when he wrote a letter back to the Duveens that read: “I like Amerika [sic] very well. It is a first class money making country, it is a fine rich country, it beats England in everything, you will be astonished what it is like, it is A one.” Joseph’s father wrote back telling Henry to find a shop to rent and the Duveens set up their first New York location; Uncle Henry remained stateside to sell the merchandise Joel and Joseph were acquiring. Then, in 1879, they traded up their shop in Hull for a storefront in London. Within a few years, after garnering illustrious customers, including the prince and princess of Wales, Joseph’s father (who had grown obsessed not only with fine objects, but also with their surroundings) had become the “most sought-after decorator” in London, according to Secrest.

After a bout with pneumonia, Joel Duveen began leaving England every autumn to escape the cold, not returning until the following Easter. This meant that by 1900, with his father gone six months out of the year and Uncle Henry living in New York, Joseph was free to run the family business as if it were his own, long before it actually was.

The makings of a mega-dealer

Raphael, Bindo Altoviti, 1515. Courtesy of the National Gallery of Art.

Raphael, The Niccolini-Cowper Madonna, 1508. Courtesy of the National Gallery of Art.

Much of Joseph Duveen’s success has been chalked up to one simple observation, which is his most famous quote: “Europe has a great deal of art, and America has a great deal of money.” While this was certainly true, Duveen also benefited from fortuitous timing, and had the sense, resources, and wherewithal to pounce. At the end of the 19th century, new technology made it easy to cheaply import agricultural goods, which led to a global abundance of grain and sent Europe spiraling into a depression. Suddenly, members of the British and Continental aristocracies were willing to part with the heirlooms, paintings, and sculptures that one would not have been able to get out of their manors a decade prior.

With the floodgates open and business growing, when the banker and prodigious art collector Rodolphe Kann died in 1905, leaving behind a collection that included works by Italian and Dutch Old Masters such as Vermeer, Van Dyck, Frans Hals; 10 paintings by Rembrandt—including his Aristotle with a Bust of Homer (1653), which Duveen ended up re-buying and re-selling three times (it’s now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art)—and countless other artworks, fine objects, and furniture, Duveen was keen to purchase the whole suite. And after working out a payment plan, he did, for just over $4 million (or over $107 million today). He then sold a Ghirlandaio and some minor works to American financier J.P. Morgan for $1 million; a Vermeer, four Rembrandts, and some sculptures for $500,000 to department store mogul Benjamin Altman; and a Rembrandt and some furniture for $2.5 million to Arabella Huntington, widow of the railroad magnate Collis P. Huntington. Just like that, Duveen had made his money back, and had enough minor inventory left from the sale to furnish his galleries for years. What’s more, he had bought Kann’s collection without bothering to tell his father, who still owned the business. This was Duveen’s biggest success yet, and it sparked a fire in him that would burn for the rest of his life.

Sir Peter Paul Rubens, Marchesa Brigida Spinola Doria, 1606. Courtesy of the National Gallery of Art.

Sir Anthony van Dyck, Queen Henrietta Maria with Sir Jeffrey Hudson, 1633. Courtesy of the National Gallery of Art.

Joseph’s father was knighted in the summer of 1908 and died that winter. In 1909, Uncle Henry wrangled a job as appraiser of U.S. Customs on imported works of art, and—surprise, surprise—the competition’s works began to be appraised at higher prices than Duveen’s, and were taxed accordingly. In 1912, Duveen hired the great Bernard Berenson, who was already Isabella Stewart Gardner’s personal advisor on all things Renaissance, to be his personal authenticator for all works from that era—at the time, an authentication from Berenson could significantly increase the value of a painting. That same year, with World War I on the horizon, Duveen officially moved from London to New York City and upgraded his stateside operation, opening a large location at 720 Fifth Avenue, on the corner of Fifth Avenue and West 56th Street. From that new base, he would quickly become the biggest art dealer the world had ever seen.

The tastemaker

Frans Hals, Portrait of an Elderly Lady, 1633. Courtesy of the National Gallery of Art.

The art market Duveen came to dominate was different from today’s in many ways. First, in the era in which Duveen’s American mega-millionaire clientèle—Frick, Altman, Morgan, Huntington, Gardner, and others—was buying art, there were very few illustrations, and virtually all the art being sold was coming from across the Atlantic. This meant that Duveen was not just the supplier to his clients, but also their personal advisor in all things art. They had to take his word regarding what artworks were good or bad, lest they sail to Europe to see for themselves.

Duveen was an opinionated art lover, especially regarding paintings, which gets at a critical aspect of his legacy: Since many of his clients’ collections went on to form the bedrock of major, influential museums across the country, and since these collections came overwhelmingly through Duveen, the man himself was in no small way a tastemaker for the United States. His aesthetic prejudices—in her biography, Secrest notes a distaste for dark paintings and a predilection for golden frames—are evident in the collections of major American institutions to this day.

Secondly, this was long before the modern dealer-artist relationship; artists and estates were not represented by singular gallerists, and so if you wanted to buy, say, a painting by Thomas Lawrence, you had to know where that painting was. This was the practice that Duveen perfected perhaps above all others: He knew where all the great paintings were. And on top of that, he was more than happy to pay off the butlers and chauffeurs who worked for those in possession of these paintings, as well as the ones who worked for potential buyers. He did this in order to find out which owners would consider selling, and which collectors were in the market to buy.

Portrait of art dealer Joseph Duveen as he appeared in court during trial of the action for $500,000, for libel brought against him by Mrs. Andree Lardoux Hahn of Kansas City, 1929. Photo by Bettmann/Contributor via Getty Images.

One illustrative example of how Duveen’s checkbook manipulated fate is his famous faux–chance encounter with Andrew Mellon, the man whose collection would one day become the National Gallery of Art (NGA) in Washington, D.C. On a trip to London in 1921, Duveen got himself a room beneath Mellon’s at Claridge’s hotel, then contacted Mellon’s personal valet, requesting that he inform Duveen of all of Mellon’s comings and goings. When Duveen was told that Mellon was getting ready to take a walk, he positioned himself so that the two would find themselves in the elevator at the same time. Duveen, feigning surprise, is said to have remarked: “Mr. Mellon, I presume? What a delightful surprise!” The dealer said he was about to visit London’s National Gallery, and would Mellon care to join him?

Thus began the dealer-collector relationship that culminated in one of the U.S.’s finest museums. Many years later, when Mellon was creating the NGA with his Duveen-sourced treasures, the dealer convinced him that the only way the new institution could outdo London’s National Gallery was to create a dedicated space for the display of sculpture (designed by Duveen’s favorite architect and plentifully stocked with Duveen-sourced sculptures, of course). Today, the NGA website lists an astounding 2,464 objects in its collection that Duveen once bought or sold.

The dealmaker

Duveen employed a somewhat more ruthless strategy to turn Henry Clay Frick into a loyal customer: He claimed that the works Frick had purchased from his previous dealer were fakes. This tactic landed Duveen on the wrong side of a $575,000 lawsuit (more than $14 million today), but garnered him an incredibly loyal collector. Duveen would go on to advise Frick on countless purchases and decisions, all the way down to the silverware at his table. When it was time for Frick to move into the Manhattan mansion that would one day become The Frick Collection, in addition to providing the paintings and décor for the famous Fragonard and Boucher Rooms, it was again Duveen who picked the architect.

In the early 1920s, Duveen was able to buy and sell English painter Thomas Gainsborough’s The Blue Boy (ca. 1770) and deliver it to the Huntingtons in California, where it’s now the gem of the Huntington Library’s collection. At the time, The Blue Boy was perhaps the most famous painting in the world, so when the news spread that it was leaving its native country, it went on view for a final three weeks at London’s National Gallery. Lines stretched through Trafalgar Square as 90,000 people passed through the museum to see it—street vendors began selling cheap copies, and there were demonstrations in the streets protesting its sale. At $728,000 (over $10 million today), it was, at the time, the most expensive painting ever sold. To have successfully acquired The Blue Boy and delivered it from England to California propelled Duveen to celebrity status; he was officially the most famous art dealer in the world.

The Boucher Room, The Frick Collection, New York. Photo by Michael Bodycomb. Courtesy of The Frick Collection.

The Fragonard Room, The Frick Collection, New York. Photo by Michael Bodycomb. Courtesy of The Frick Collection.

Once a work of art passed through Duveen’s hands, it was forevermore associated with his name; it became “a Duveen,” and its social status rose accordingly. Rather than abiding by the buy-low-sell-high maxim, he believed that value begat greater value. A favorite saying of his was: “You can get all the pictures you want at $50,000 apiece, that’s easy. But to get pictures at a quarter of a million apiece—that wants doing!”

By the 1930s, Duveen had begun selling directly to museums—a market in which he also did well, though it led to one of the great missteps of his career. He insisted that the once-colorful Elgin Marbles be scrubbed so clean before their installation at the British Museum—in the Duveen gallery—that all of their color and much of their detail was lost, causing uproar throughout Britain and leaving us with the stark white artifacts we have today. In May 1939, Duveen was in London; he had initially come for the official opening of the Elgin Marbles at the British Museum, but under the weight of the controversy surrounding their overzealous cleaning, the ceremony had been canceled. Early one morning in the bed of his favorite room at Claridge’s, Duveen died of a cerebral hemorrhage.

Duveen’s imprint on the field of art in the U.S. runs so deep, it’s nearly impossible to overstate. Like the parable of the fish who asks another fish how the water is, only to be met with “what the hell is water?” it’s hard for us to realize just how fully immersed in Duveen’s world we are today. While his famous observation about America’s glut of new money and Europe’s glut of old art will forever be his most-quoted line, it’s a telegram Duveen sent to an employee in the 1920s, at the height of his power, that perhaps sums him up best: “KEEP ALIVE FIND ME GREAT THINGS I CAN SELL THEM.”

from Artsy News

[duncepatrick92]

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3 Simple Techniques For Transferwise

As Airbnb, You Tube, Legendary Games and other community-based platforms grow, expect to see financing systems grow up around them. Examples here abound in the U.S. (Produce Pay for farmers, Clearbanc for e-commerce companies, Returnly for merchandisers). In the U.K. a good example is Neyber." The reinvention of core financial facilities will likewise be invested in as "legacy financial companies understand they need to re-engineer their core information architecture and core procedures.

More complex regional currency bond and equity markets will follow gradually. See Cobalt, LMRKTS and Goldex for example. "I see less interest in robo-advisory, neobanks and P 2P lending. As those market sectors grow there is less development, more competitors from tradition providers and greater regulatory analysis on the horizon.".

Worth of deals falls 29% after record Ant Financial round in 2018; Fundraising soars in the United States and the UK, with strong gains likewise in Germany, Sweden and France HONG KONG, NEW YORK and LONDON; Aug. 14, 2019-- Global investment in financial technology (fintech) endeavors fell dramatically in the very first half of 2019, as fundraising and deal activity in China that had soared a year previously ground to a halt, partly offsetting strong gains in the U.S., U.K.

The total worth of fintech deals globally in the 6 months ended June 30 was US$ 22 billion, compared with US$ 31.2 billion in the same period of 2018, a decline of 29%. The drop was due primarily to the absence of a giant deal like Ant Financial's record US$ 14 billion fundraising in Might 2018.

The value of handle the U.S. in the very first half of 2019 jumped 60%, to US$ 12.7 billion, despite the fact that the variety of deals was practically unchanged from the very first half of 2018 (564 vs. 563), signifying a trend of bigger handle the world's biggest and most active fintech market.

The biggest offer was the US$ 1 billion that consumer financing fintech Figure Technologies Inc secured from a credit center in Might. Fintech investment in the U.K. almost doubled, to around US$ 2.6 billion, and the number of offers leapt 25%, to 263, as challenger banks and payments companies continued to draw financiers' interest.

" There's been a great deal of interest and demand from consumers for new fintech proposals, particularly in the U.K. and elsewhere in Europe, which helps explain the big jump in investments there," stated Julian Skan, a senior managing director in Accenture's Financial Services practice. "Fundraising is likewise transferring to support the scaling up of challenger and collaborative fintech, which will trigger lumpiness in some rounds as we get to business end of the investment cycle where investors look for returns based upon a sustainable bottom line, instead of another purchaser.

Fundraising in Sweden more than quadrupled, to US$ 573 million, while fintechs in France raised US$ 423 million in the first half of 2019, 48% more than a year previously. There were also large fundraising gains in Asia Pacific, with the worth of deals in Singapore almost quadrupling, to US$ 453 million, and the worth of deals in Australia more than tripling, to US$ 401 million.

The variety of fintech deals worldwide increased about 2% from the very first half of 2018, to 1,561, however activity was blended in the world's biggest markets. While the variety of offers was flat in the U.S. and rose dramatically in the U.K., China and India experienced volume decreases of 49% and 21%, respectively.

" Increased activity in lots of markets is a great indication of the level of self-confidence lots of investors have in the fintech industry," said Piyush Singh, a managing director at Accenture who leads its Financial Services practice in Asia-Pacific and Africa. "Startups and the services they use are developing, which bodes well for conventional organizations partnering with fintechs and for innovation in the financial services market as a whole." Accenture evaluated fintech investment information from CB Insights, a global venture-finance data and analytics firm.

The investment information ranged from 2010 through the very first half of 2019 and included equity and non-equity financing. Fintech business are specified as those that use technologies for banking and corporate financing, capital markets, financial data analytics, insurance coverage, payments and individual monetary management. Accenture is a leading global expert services company, supplying a broad variety of services and options in strategy, consulting, digital, technology and operations.

With 482,000 individuals serving customers in more than 120 nations, Accenture drives development to improve the way the world works and lives. Visit us at www.accenture.com. # # # Elzio Barreto Accenture +852 9509 3236 Natalie de Freitas Accenture +44 798816538 2 Melissa Volin Accenture +1 267 216 1815.

Financial innovation companies might be controling heading funding rounds in the UK, but after years of plentiful concepts for new start-ups, the boom in fintechs is decreasing. Data compiled by analyst company Pitch Book for The Telegraph shows just around 11 financial technology companies, consisting of consumer companies, have been founded so far this year in Britain.

The trend for a decrease in new, ingenious financial technology firms is mirrored globally. According to a report from Ian Green, a former Credit Suisse analyst composing on Risk.net, there were 390 wholesale monetary innovation start-ups founded in 2015-- implying companies handling bank-to-bank or business transactions. That number is down to simply a dozen this year, although, the data for 2019 may just be partial, with some very brand-new services not accounted for.

Today, some locations of fintech have actually been inhabited "by the most successful of the brand-new companies", Green writes, while the environment for start-ups is proving "fundamentally hostile to new life kinds". "The time to have begun a next-gen fintech company was 2012 to 2018," states Hussein Kanji, a partner at equity capital company Hoxton Ventures.

A curious thing is occurring in European venture-capital (VC) funding. Larger amounts of money are progressively readily available, however the industry has actually been ignoring the extremely source of originalities-- European entrepreneurs seeking seed stage funding to get their ideas off the ground. There are, nevertheless, early indicators that Europe is at the cusp of a golden era for investment, and the next few years will be interesting times for seed.

In 2020, United States VC companies will continue to grow their presence in Europe, implying competition and capital in series A & B rounds will grow with it. As more capital goes into the ecosystem, there will be a higher conversion of seed financial investments to series A, particularly from the top-tier seed funds.

European talent will lastly start to fintech rising stars come into its own. More European unicorns will create beneficial conditions for supporting skill, encouraging innovation and, of course-- drawing in more funding. 2020 will be a year of extraordinary opportunity for seed financiers in Europe. More than ever, unearthing skill throughout countries, areas and towns throughout the Continent will be of utmost significance for Europe's long-lasting competitiveness.

In order to enhance competitiveness, brand-new, software-driven techniques to talent discovery and to scaling VC operations will start to take hold across Europe in 2020. Up until now, most top-tier VC funding has actually been concentrated in a handful of European cities, indicating numerous business owners are left to look after themselves and might never ever get the chance to scale their ambitions.

Entrepreneurship is driven by technical and creative innovation, which is not impacted by the macro environment. In spite of the anticipated correction in the macro economy, we should expect to see huge tech continue to invest and grow their businesses in 2020. But this features a caution. Many IPOs in 2018 and 2019 were priced below the high expectations of creators, VCs, boards and their bankers.

The funding will take longer, diligence on brand-new financial investments will be more rigorous and assessments will come under pressure for even the most attractive propositions. The posterboy for European investment has actually been fintech. Europe's early success in the sector has actually been because of favourable guideline (the EU passport system creates a single market), a continuing expansion of capital and access to global skill, with London's status as a conventional monetary capital.

[newssplashy]

RAS TANURA, Saudi Arabia — This port, on the calm blue waters of the Persian Gulf, operates with militarylike precision.

At the top of the hexagonal control tower, staff dressed in neat white uniforms with officers’ epaulets keep watch, looking over the sweep of countless storage tanks and ships.

“If a target tries to hide behind a ship, we can see him,” said Salah al-Ghamdi, the chief pilot at the facility.

Thousands of ships depart these waters annually, transporting the wealth of crude beneath the Saudi Arabian desert to gas-guzzling nations. The kingdom accounts for almost one-sixth of world oil exports, and even a minor disruption here could send shudders through global markets.

The state-run oil giant that operates the port, Saudi Aramco, is the economic force behind Saudi Arabia’s transformation into a regional powerhouse. The deep oil reserves, which the company extracts, transports and sells, have made the country an important part of a geopolitical equation that includes the United States, China and Russia. Leveraging its engineering expertise, Saudi Aramco has built schools, roads, hospitals and much of the other infrastructure that girds Saudi society.

As the kingdom prepares for its next evolution, Saudi Aramco is again central — in a role that leaves the company and the country at risk.

The Saudi crown prince, Mohammed bin Salman, has unveiled an ambitious effort called Vision 2030 to wean the country from its dependence on oil and overhaul the economy. As part of his plan, he wants to sell a piece of the state oil giant to the public, in part to raise money for other investments.

It is one of the mostly highly anticipated initial public offerings, which Salman estimates could value Saudi Aramco at $2 trillion. But a stock sale leaves the opaque company more exposed to outside forces, a compromising position for a political beast with a powerful hand over prices at the pump.

With global prices north of $70 a barrel, Saudi Arabia and its oil giant are under pressure to increase production. It could put them at odds with some other nations in the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries, which meets this week.

“Saudi Aramco has always carried the kingdom on its back,” said Jim Krane, an energy and geopolitics fellow at Rice University’s Baker Institute. “But to support the kingdom in the coming decades, it needs to transform itself.”

In essence, Salman wants the kingdom and Saudi Aramco to plan for the day far in the future when the oil age draws to a close. The present is already making the crude business look less attractive. Countries around the world are shifting to renewable power, while technological advances like electric cars are eroding demand for oil.

To diversify, Aramco is building vast new facilities that will turn crude into more profitable petrochemicals, and it is increasingly drilling for gas. It is also working with Google to establish data centers in the kingdom to develop data-analytics and cloud-computing capacity.

But the IPO will draw scrutiny to a company whose inner workings have long been kept out of sight. Pressure from investors, combined with a prince in a hurry to transform his country, could jeopardize the long-term approach that has made Aramco a dominant force.

For two years, a special team has been working with an array of Western bankers and advisers, preparing for how to handle quarterly reporting of results and coordinate trading between stock exchanges. A local Saudi listing seems certain, but London, New York and bourses in Asia are still in the running for a piece.

Amin H. Nasser, Aramco’s chief executive, said in an interview that the company was preparing to list in all those locations. Speaking with a picture of Salman in the background, he added, “It makes us ready for any market the government decides.”

The ‘Golden Ghetto’

Othman al-Khowaiter was born in 1933, the same year that Standard Oil of California secured a sweeping oil concession from the founder of Saudi Arabia. The Khowaiter family was made up of poor farmers, and as a child, he worked as a houseboy. He would follow the same path as the country’s nascent energy business.

The founder, King Abdulaziz ibn Saud, needed cash to run his country, created from a patchwork of tribes. The U.S. company, the predecessor to what is now Chevron, paid him 50,000 British pounds’ worth of gold for the contract. The company sent teams of U.S. geologists to explore Saudi Arabia’s deserts, accompanied by Bedouin guides and soldiers from the king to ward off raiders.

Lacking today’s sophisticated tools to find oil and gas underground, they interpreted clues on the surface — fossils, domes and folds in the rock — that hinted oil may be trapped underneath. One geologist, Ernie Berg, noticed that a wadi, or ancient riverbed, took a mysterious turn. He surmised that the bend had been caused by a large uplift, indicating an underlying oil field.

It led to the 170-mile-long Ghawar field, which remains by far the world’s largest oil discovery. Such finds altered Saudi Arabia’s prospects. After a pause during World War II, money started coming in, and jobs were suddenly on offer for the new company, the Arabian American Oil Co., or Aramco.

Aramco soon became a magnet for men like al-Khowaiter. In a society that had long been defined by tribal connections, the company modeled itself as a meritocracy offering young hopefuls the chance for advancement. Al-Khowaiter spent several days in 1949 crossing the country, hitching rides with passing trucks from his home in central Saudi Arabia, to Dhahran on the eastern coast, where Aramco was ramping up its operations.

“I heard about people working for Aramco, that the door was open to getting an education,” al-Khowaiter said, over tea and pecan pie.

Back then, Al Khobar — now a major port near Dhahran — was a medieval-looking walled town that lacked the facilities, roads or people needed for an international oil hub. Saudi employees there lived in palm-thatched huts and were plagued by diseases like malaria.

Al-Khowaiter, who was sent by the Saudi government to study petroleum engineering at the University of Texas, eventually spent 35 years at the company, rising to become vice president for drilling before retiring in 1996. He still lives in Dhahran, now Aramco’s headquarters, in a gated community dotted with date palm trees known as the golden ghetto, a wealthy enclave with a Mexican theme restaurant and a golf course, among other entertainment.

Stories like al-Khowaiter’s are common, the most famous being Ali al-Naimi’s. Al-Naimi, the son of a pearl diver and his Bedouin wife, began studying at an Aramco-sponsored school, and was first hired by the company as an office boy at 12 years old. He embraced U.S. culture, even learning to play shortstop in baseball, and pestered the company to send him abroad — first to Beirut and then to the United States, where he earned his undergraduate and master’s degrees.

In 1988, al-Naimi became Aramco’s chief executive, the first Saudi in the position. In 1995, he was named Saudi Arabia’s oil minister.

“Without Aramco, I don’t know what life would be,” al-Khowaiter said. “We would not be at the level we are now.”

A Unique Long View

Aramco’s path has long been driven by politics. Riyadh’s relationship with the United States frayed during the Arab-Israeli war in 1973. Washington supported Israel. In retaliation, Saudi Arabia and other Arab states imposed an oil embargo on the United States. That same year, the Saudis took a 25 percent stake in Aramco, eventually gaining full control by 1980.

The U.S. influence is still apparent. Many expatriates stayed, and U.S. companies kept buying and selling Saudi oil. Unlike the rest of Saudi Arabia, where recreation and entertainment are largely forbidden, Aramco compounds have baseball diamonds and movie theaters. Men and women work together and mingle in public. English is widely spoken.

Saudi Aramco’s success, in many ways, is tied to its roots. It is run more like a private company than a state-run fief, with top executives typically chosen for competence rather than connections. Its employees are efficient, skilled and highly educated, making Aramco an outlier in a kingdom where state control has stifled innovation and limited the kinds of opportunities that should be available in such a wealthy country.

The company is widely praised for embracing technology and, unlike many government-controlled energy companies, finishing projects on time and on budget. While Aramco does not disclose its financial results, analysts say its large, long-running fields most likely mean that the costs of bringing the oil out of the ground are among the lowest in the industry. Rystad Energy, a Norwegian market research company, estimates Saudi Aramco’s operating costs to be $4.88 for each barrel of oil. Last year, Exxon Mobil reported worldwide production costs of $10.12 a barrel.

Its Saudi parentage gives the company an advantage over the likes of Exxon and Royal Dutch Shell. Aramco doesn’t face the relentless quarter-to-quarter pressure to produce profit. It can take a really, really long-term view, and over the years has persistently opted for the most advanced — and expensive — technology to ensure it will be able to pump vast quantities of oil for decades.

“Saudi Aramco has a much better business model than the international majors,” said J. Robinson West, chairman of the BCG Center for Energy Impact, a consultancy.

When Aramco first drilled at the Shaybah oil field in the 1990s, it picked a then unusual and costly process known as horizontal drilling. Rather than exploring straight down into the ground, Aramco’s wells lace through Shaybah. One has so many branches it is known as the fish bone.

They more than compensate for the cost, though. During the process, the wells have more contact with oil-bearing rocks to produce more crude, while expending less energy on pumping.

This approach is one reason giant fields like Ghawar continue to produce despite having been tapped for decades. Fields in areas like the North Sea in Europe, or in the Gulf of Mexico, have declined sharply.

“Saudi Aramco has the longest time horizon in the industry,” said Daniel Yergin, an oil historian.

With oil reserves pegged at about 260 billion barrels — far more than any publicly listed competitor — Aramco has around 70 years’ worth of resources at present production levels. It has the two largest oil fields ever discovered. And more are coming, with the recently developed Manifa capable of producing 900,000 barrels of oil a day. Western oil majors only rarely get access to such giant deposits.

“We are in a unique position where we have exclusive access to all of Saudi Arabia’s fields,” said Suha Kayum, an Aramco research scientist. “We basically develop our fields to last for centuries.”

Change Is Coming

About an hour’s drive from Dhahran, a gargantuan industrial complex dominates the desert landscape. Two square miles, it looks like a small city, except people are eerily absent and the streets are lined with pipes, storage tanks and smokestacks. Sadara, as this complex is called, represents what could be the new Aramco.

The ambitious project, which began operating last year, is the result of a $20 billion investment by the company and its partner, Dow Chemical. In all, 26 plants brew an array of petrochemicals from oil and gas for foam, insulation and plastics, as well as chemicals that will go into adhesives, coatings and cosmetics.

The idea is not only to feed expanding world markets for these products, but also to sow the seeds of a diversified Saudi economy. Officials hope Sadara will drive growth in industries like furniture and car parts, providing jobs to the country’s young and fast-growing labor force.

“We see the world changing,” said Abdulaziz al-Judaimi, Aramco’s senior vice president for chemicals and refining. “It is very much for us to read the future, and engineer our future in a way that we keep our market share.”

Aramco is separately trying to up its output of natural gas. Past policies and Saudi geology have left the kingdom surprisingly short of gas, which is increasingly used in electricity generation. The company is even on the hunt for international gas deals that could bring fuel back to Saudi Arabia, a role reversal for one of the world’s most dominant exporters.

But whether politics and profits can peacefully coexist in this blend is a big uncertainty for Saudi Aramco.

Investors in a public Saudi Aramco may want to know why the company has research centers across the globe when others have been cutting back.

They might question why the company needs to lend executives and engineers to the government to carry out pet projects for the kingdom, like building a university on the Red Sea.

Or they might wonder why Saudi Aramco maintains as much as 2 million barrels a day of spare pumping capacity for the country to intervene in world markets, an amount equal to the total oil production of Nigeria.

“They have a gold-plating mentality,” Floris Ansingh, a former head of Royal Dutch Shell’s operations in Saudi Arabia, said of Aramco. “They are very demanding on the technical side. They act like a rich company.”

After a public listing, he said, “this mentality has to go.”

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

STANLEY REED © 2018 The New York Times

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Battling to retake Arkansas's 2nd Congressional District

Combs, Dunkley, Tucker and Spencer battle to take on Republican incumbent French Hill in Arkansas's 2nd Congressional District.

The much-touted blue wave expected nationally is unlikely to hit Arkansas this election cycle. Republicans have supermajorities in the state House and Senate and hold all seven constitutional offices and the state's six congressional seats. Democrats are expected to make gains in the state legislature, but not even the most hopeful party faithful expect Dems to retake control of either chamber. All the Democratic candidates running for constitutional office are seen as long shots. Ditto for most of the congressional races. There's pretty much one realistic shot for Arkansas to offer its own ripple in the blue wave: the 2nd Congressional District.

There, both national and local party leaders and members of the insurgent populist wing of the party see a golden opportunity to return the district to Democratic control for the first time in almost a decade. Odds still favor U.S. Rep. French Hill of Little Rock, the two-term Republican incumbent, but national prognosticators like the Cook Political Report have moved the seat from "Likely Republican" to "Lean Republican" in recent months.

That's partly because Democrats have performed better than expected in special elections in similarly red districts across the country. In March, Pennsylvania Democrat Conor Lamb scored a narrow upset in a Rust Belt congressional district that President Trump won by almost 20 percentage points in 2016. In April, a race in a reliably red House district in suburban Phoenix, Ariz., turned out to be surprisingly close: Though Republican Debbie Lesko won by five points, Trump's margin of victory in 2016 was 21 points.

The president's party is typically vulnerable during midterm elections, and the toxicity of Trump's personal brand among Democrats and many independents may motivate high turnout among voters opposed to the president. Trump remains very popular among Republicans, but he's not on the 2018 ballot. The same politics of division and resentment that Trump exploited to win the White House is now fueling intense enthusiasm within the Democratic base — as evidenced by the crowded primary field in Arkansas's 2nd District.

Four Democrats are running for the chance to take on Hill (Libertarian Joe Swafford of Maumelle is also running for the seat). State Rep. Clarke Tucker, who was recruited by the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee, which identified the district as one the party could flip, is the clear frontrunner. The other three candidates — Paul Spencer, a teacher and activist; Gwen Combs, a teacher and activist; and Jonathan Dunkley, director of operations at the Clinton School of Public Service — each peg themselves as more progressive than Tucker and brand him as an "establishment" candidate. They also speak disparagingly about the DCCC, which has taken licks in progressive circles for forcefully inserting itself in Democratic primary contests. A victory in the primary for Tucker will end the same way it did for Conner Eldridge, Pat Hays, Mark Pryor, Mike Ross and other recent moderate Democratic candidates, they say — with a loss in the November general election.

A May 6 poll from Talk Business/Hendrix College found Tucker favored by 41 percent of the likely Democratic primary voters. Trailing him were Combs with 11 percent, Spencer with 10 percent and Dunkley with 6 percent. That left 32 percent who did not know. The big question ahead is whether Tucker can grab enough undecided voters to top 50 percent and avoid a run-off on June 19. Early voting began May 7. Election day for the primary is May 22.

Like many other Democratic primaries across the country, the 2nd District contest echoes the 2016 matchup between Hillary Clinton and Sen. Bernie Sanders (D-Vt.). But the four-way nature of the race somewhat complicates the "establishment vs. outsider" narrative seen in other places. The Sanders-leaning wing of the party has so far failed to coalesce around a single alternative to Tucker. Maybe that's because many Democrats in Arkansas are still Clinton loyalists and favor a more moderate candidate, or maybe it's simply because progressive activists are less well-organized here than other places.

Whoever prevails will face a candidate in Hill who is likely to have a massive campaign war chest, but also one who has done nothing to separate himself from an unpopular president. Hill voted to end the Affordable Care Act, supported the tax plan that provided an income tax cut bonanza to corporate America and voted against supporting disaster aid for Puerto Rico. That won't hurt him with the Republican base, but it could be a different story with independents. An April poll from Public Policy Polling — a Democratic firm — showed Hill's margin of support fell slightly when voters were presented with information about the failed attempt to repeal the Affordable Care Act and the GOP tax cut bill.

In two elections, Hill has never won his home county. Pat Hays, the former mayor of North Little Rock, received 54 percent of the vote in Pulaski County in his race against Hill in 2014. In 2016, despite having little name recognition and money, former Little Rock School District board president Dianne Curry earned 50 percent in the county. Political scientist Jay Barth, who writes a column for the Arkansas Times, has imagined a narrow potential pathway to victory for the successful Democratic candidate. It would take a massive Democratic turnout in Pulaski County, which might be helped by interest in a crowded Little Rock mayoral race, and successfully peeling away suburban voters in places like Conway, Bryant and Searcy who've grown disillusioned with a party led by Trump.

Combs, Tucker, Dunkley and Spencer each say they're the candidate who can chart that course in November.

Money is the root of all political evil

Paul Spencer and French Hill attend the same church. They've known each other for 18 years, the amount of time Spencer has taught history and American government at Little Rock Catholic High School for Boys. Hill is an alumnus of Catholic, and he and Spencer each have sons who are seniors at the school. (Spencer doesn't teach either boy.)

Spencer said he'd always thought of Hill as "sensible in a lot of ways. But after he got elected, I think a lot of his sensibilities went away." Spencer said he doesn't know why Hill, who was opposed to Trump in the presidential primary, "drank the Kool-Aid" and supported the president's agenda.

"To say, 'Go ahead and repeal and replace [the Affordable Care Act],' and pass this crazy tax plan and don't say anything about the travel ban? ... The only thing I can assume is the promise of greener pastures." Hill, who was a banker before joining Congress, had been rumored to be under consideration for deputy secretary of the treasury and a spot on the board of governors of the Federal Reserve System.

Spencer is running for Congress because he believes big money has corrupted American politics. Every major issue today can be viewed through that lens, he said. Take the Republicans' attempts to repeal the Affordable Care Act: "That's not an insurance issue, it's a money in politics issue," Spencer said. "If you want clean water, you got to get the money out. If you want clean elections, you got to get the money out."

Spencer, 51, grew up in Steubenville, Ohio, where the steel industry dominated the local economy. "Everything was unionized — AFL-CIO, United Mine Workers," Spencer said. "When mills would go on strike, the bus drivers would go on strike, the schools would go on strike. I learned the value of solidarity very early in life. When you come from that labor kind of background, a lot of time that's all you have."

Spencer said his father, a mechanic in a small diesel garage, used to send him out to the highway with a five-gallon bucket to pick up coal that fell off trucks headed to the mills to use to heat the family's house. "We didn't live in good straits growing up. No one really did in that town. We didn't realize we were poor until someone around us pointed it out."

Drumming was his escape. Spencer spent years as a professional session musician in Boston and Pittsburgh, making more than he does now as a teacher. But he longed to be a professor and got his B.S. in anthropology from Franciscan University in Steubenville, where he met his wife, an Arkansas native. They moved to Arkansas in what was supposed to be a quick stopover. That was 19 years ago. Spencer and his wife have three teenage sons. They live on 15 acres in Scott, in a house they built together. They grow pecan trees and raise honeybees.

This is Spencer's first bid for office, but he's been an activist since 2010, when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that political spending is protected under the First Amendment in the Citizens United case.

"I remember I woke up after the Citizens United decision and said to myself, 'This is a real piece of shit.' If you cut your teeth on the Constitution, you know how it's supposed to work. Then you see the potential for unfettered spending in elections, and you wake up in this cold sweat."

Spencer said he "never made a conscious effort to get involved [in activism]. It's just like you see someone drowning, you jump in and save them." He became involved in the Occupy Wall Street movement in Little Rock in 2011, lecturing the group on the same topics he teaches in American government classes — "the Constitution and corporate personhood and things like that."

His time with the Occupy movement led him to chair Regnat Populus, a ballot question committee named after the state's motto, "the people rule." It sought to put a wide-ranging ethics law on the ballot that would have limited the effects of money on politics. It failed to make the ballot after a paid canvassing firm did not gather the number of signatures needed to place the measure before voters.

Spencer later worked to influence the passage of Amendment 94 to the Arkansas Constitution, which banned direct corporate contributions to state candidates and extended the amount of time former legislators must wait to serve as lobbyists. (The law left a few massive loopholes, which Spencer has been critical of.) Spencer also worked with primary opponent Tucker on an ethics package Tucker sponsored in the General Assembly. Spencer said he admires Tucker, but believes that by accepting money from political action committees and by working with the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee, he's abandoned important values.

"What I teach my kids is that anybody who wants to serve their country can do it," Spencer said. "It shouldn't be predicated on the small nucleus of insiders from Washington, or the Heights for that matter, who anoint you. We shouldn't have to go through the tollgate of democracy to do what we want to do to serve our communities, and I think that's what the DCCC has become, unfortunately."

Spencer, whose website is cantbuypaul.com, has made the refusal to accept donations from PACs a centerpiece of his campaign. So far he's raised $251,479 from more than 4,000 donors across the country, according to the most recent campaign finance records, filed March 31. He's spent $131,155 and has $120,324 cash on hand.

Spencer's fundraising has been substantially helped by his inclusion in the Great Slate, a fundraising campaign started by Tech Solidarity, a 501(c)4 organization of tech workers, largely from the San Francisco Bay Area. The Great Slate includes 10 first-time "progressive" candidates with day jobs, "an excellent campaign team, and a clear path to victory in a poor, rural district." In the first quarter of 2018, the Great Slate raised $753,865 for the candidates. David Simon, the creator of HBO's "The Wire" and "The Deuce," also hosted a fundraiser for Spencer and a few other like-minded candidates in New York and has contributed $4,000 to Spencer's campaign. Spencer had never heard of Simon before.

That fundraising haul has allowed him to hire a campaign staff of 17 and pay canvassers $15 per hour, in keeping with his call for a $15 federal minimum wage.

Spencer has advertised widely online and in print, but spokesman Reed Brewer said the campaign would not run TV ads. "The effectiveness of television ads in recent elections — especially primaries — has been proven to be marginal at best, and a waste of funds at worst," he said.

Spencer has rolled out extensive additional policy proposals. He supports Sanders' Medicare for All bill, universal housing vouchers for households with income of less than $54,000, the elimination of $1.4 trillion in student debt and establishing a system of banking within the U.S. Postal Service to reach the 88 million Americans who lack the minimum amount of money to open an account at a traditional bank

All of those proposals would stimulate the economy and pay for themselves, Spencer said. Eliminating the layers of profiteers that siphon away Americans' health care dollars before they reach medical providers — including insurance companies, lawyers, lobbyists, pharmacy benefit managers and advertising agencies — and moving to a single-payer health care system would especially be a boon, Spencer said, saving the country, by his estimate, around $500 billion annually.

Spencer has pledged that, if elected, he would only serve for three terms and then return to teaching and farming. That he doesn't have further political ambitions makes it easier for him to advocate for average Arkansans through policies that, while unconventional, would dramatically improve their lives, he said.

Meanwhile, Combs and Dunkley cite Spencer's position on abortion as disqualifying.

Spencer is pro-life. "I believe that human life begins at conception and I believe that an unborn child is a human being," he said. Poverty is responsible for some 40 percent of abortions, he said. "I can work to fight poverty; I have no desire to fight against the law that is already on the books now in regard to abortion."

Spencer said he supports the Hyde Amendment, which prevents federal funds from being spent on abortion except to save the life of a woman or in cases of rape or incest. He also said he supports banning abortion at fetal viability, wherever "medicine determines." (The viability threshold is almost inevitably a political determination as well as a medical and scientific one. Courts have generally determined viability to be between 24 and 28 weeks, though some state legislatures, including Arkansas's, have successfully defined viability at 20 weeks.) Spencer said he supports Planned Parenthood and would not vote to deny it Medicaid funding.

Spencer said Democrats in Arkansas understand his position. Some have said, "You can't have any opposition to abortion, or you're dead in the water," Spencer said. "That [attitude] might work in Brooklyn, but it's not going to work here." He said he's encountered a lot of Democrats outside Pulaski County in the 2nd District who are pro-life.

Marching on

Gwen Combs said she's running for Congress because she believes we need to return to a more representative democracy.

"I believe in government of the people, for the people, and we just don't have that in Washington now. I'm the only woman, the only veteran and the only [public school] teacher running for this seat, and I think that gives me the ability to relate to almost everyone."

Combs, 43, of Little Rock, is a gifted and talented teacher at Stephens Elementary School in the Little Rock School District. The school is 93 percent black, 2.2 percent Latino and 87 percent low-income. Questions her students asked her during the 2016 presidential campaign compelled her into activism, she said.

"Leading up to the election, one [of my students] asked me, 'If Donald Trump is elected, will I be deported?' And another asked me, if Donald Trump was elected, would he be murdered. That was the point when I said, 'I really have to be noisy about this.' "

After the election, Combs read about the planned Women's March in Washington, D.C. "I was inspired by it, but it was something I knew I couldn't do as a teacher. I don't have the money [to travel] and couldn't take the time off." From there, she created a Facebook event for a Women's March in Arkansas, which an estimated 7,000 people attended.

The success of the Little Rock march inspired Combs to work to sustain the movement. She created a Facebook group, originally called Be the Change Alliance and later March on Arkansas. It was meant to be a clearinghouse for progressive Arkansas activists. That effort connected Combs to a trainer from Housing Works, a New York-based nonprofit that fights AIDS and homelessness, who taught Combs and others how to "bird dog," or as Combs explained it, "when you pester your legislator, and you do it with intense focus and with a direct ask."

During the health care debate last year, Combs traveled with a small group to Washington to meet with Republican Sens. John Boozman and Tom Cotton. She only got face time with Cotton, who lectured the group on his positions, Combs said, before she interrupted him to say, "We really want you to listen to us."

"We laid it out and tried to make it real to him because I don't think he has a clue about what it's like to be a regular, everyday person," Combs said of Cotton.

On July 28, shortly after Boozman and Cotton voted to repeal the Affordable Care Act without replacing it on, Combs filed to run for Congress.

Politics is something Combs "never saw coming," she said. She grew up in southwestern Ohio, born to a teenage mother and a machinist father, both of whom were first-generation high school graduates. Combs left Ohio on a full-ride scholarship to New Mexico State, but she said she didn't have the support system to be successful in college at that point in her life and her scholarship funding ran out. So, she decided to follow both of her grandfathers' examples and join the military.

In the Air Force, she was stationed in Okinawa, Japan, where she was a communications and navigation systems specialist. While in the Air Force, she married and became a first-generation college graduate, earning two associate degrees. After she was honorably discharged, and with a young son in tow, the Air Force sent her family to the Little Rock Air Force Base. Once there, she earned a master's degree in gifted education from the University of Arkansas at Little Rock. She's taught for 11 years, 10 in the LRSD.

Even though Combs declared around the same time as Spencer, she's been far less successful at raising money. She had raised $25,760, spent $18,172 and had $7,587 cash on hand as of March 31.

"We can't compete financially," she acknowledged. "That's almost more golden to me because I think the amount of money that's spent on political campaigns is obscene, and it's offensive to the communities we live in and we're purporting to serve." But Combs said she's used to working on a shoestring: "I'm a teacher, I'm used to not having much of a budget. I grew up poor. I'm used to not having much of a personal budget. I can get stuff done."

Her staff is made up of all volunteers, all of whom have full-time jobs. That's what representative democracy should look like, she said. Combs has life experience that looks like the average voter, she said.

"I had a family member struggle with addiction. I had a family member die of suicide. I've had a family member homeless. I've had a family member unemployed and injured on the job. Those are things that really give me some perspective and allow me to relate and allow me to have some deep, deep empathy for people. If you're removed from a scenario, you can hear about it all day, but you can't understand what it's like."

Combs supports Medicare for All, expanding federal funding to ensure that all Americans get top-quality education from pre-K to employability, moving toward debt-free college, establishing a $15 minimum wage, closing gun loopholes, repealing the Dickey Amendment that prevents the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention from studying the health impacts of guns and providing a pathway to citizenship for DREAMers.

Combs said she might not have entered the race if Spencer wasn't pro-life and in support of the Hyde Amendment. She said she would work to repeal it and preserve abortion rights. "When you talk about Medicare for All but maintaining the Hyde Amendment instead of working to repeal it, you have a situation where you might have health care for all, but not for women," she said.

How would she pay for the progressive policies she's advocated on behalf of? One idea: "Our expenses for nuclear armament are absurd. We could pull back on that and put money into areas that help people instead of endangering people," Combs said.

The frontrunner

State Rep. Clarke Tucker said he first started thinking about running for Congress when the House passed the American Health Care Act last summer. Then he was diagnosed with bladder cancer. "The prospect of having access to care with a preexisting condition without dying or going bankrupt became a lot less abstract," he said.

Tucker said he's also running because he wants to restore "courage, heart and decency" to the political process. "It takes courage to stand up to special interests when you're in office when they're trying to put pressure on you, to party leadership and your colleagues when they want you to vote in a certain way. ... It also takes heart, because you have to really care about the people you represent and have compassion and loyalty for them. And decency is just totally gone from the political process."

Tucker, 37, is a seventh-generation Arkansan. He's married with two children. Tucker's father, Rett Tucker, is a longtime downtown developer. Tucker graduated from Central High School, where he was student body president, and later received degrees from Harvard University and the University of Arkansas School of Law. He practiced law at Quattlebaum Grooms & Tull until February, when he quit to focus on this congressional run.

After winning a hard-fought state House campaign for District 35 against Republican Stacy Hurst in 2014, Tucker emerged as a rising star in the state Democratic Party over the course of his two terms in the House, even though the party was in the decided minority.

Though much of his legislation was stymied by Republicans — including a broad ethics and campaign finance package and a bill that would have made a spouse or dating partner convicted of misdemeanor domestic violence ineligible to own or purchase a firearm — he can still point to significant accomplishments.In 2016, he helped craft the legal language in a complicated legislative gambit to convince hold-out senators to reauthorize Medicaid expansion, which provides health coverage for nearly 300,000 Arkansans. During the last session, he was the House sponsor of the most significant package of criminal justice reform legislation in years. Tucker focused on a provision that established Crisis Stabilization Units, where people experiencing behavioral health problems could go, rather than to jail. Thanks to the law, Arkansas will soon have five CSUs throughout the state.

Tucker said his experience differentiates him from his primary opponents. "I have a demonstrated ability to get things done in a meaningful way for the people I represent in difficult political circumstances. I also have demonstrated an ability to win a difficult race in a tough political climate."

His opponents, in turn, brand him the establishment candidate and say he's too much of a centrist.

"I think there's a false choice right now between people who are willing to work with the other side of the aisle to get things done and people who are passionate," Tucker said, perhaps looking ahead to a general election battle with Hill for moderate voters. "I think you can be passionate and willing to work with the other side of the aisle. That's how I would describe myself. I think a lot of times [Democrats and Republicans] have common goals, and it's just a matter of getting them together."

If elected, Tucker said, he would not support U.S. Rep. Nancy Pelosi as party leader. "I've been frustrated with the leadership in both parties. I think we need to move in a different direction," he said. He sees plenty of common ground to be found between the parties. Two examples, he cited: infrastructure, including increased rural access to high-speed internet, and immigration.

Of the latter, he said, "I think most Americans want to have a secure border, and they want to have an immigration process that does not pose a security threat to people who live here. ... I think the overwhelming majority of Americans recognize that DREAMers are just as American as anyone who was born here. They have a lot to contribute to the country, and we need to have a path to citizenship for them and keep their families together."

Tucker would like to close gun loopholes and extend federal background checks on gun purchases. He wants to see federal support for expanded pre-K and after-school and summer programs. He supports tuition relief for those who enter public service and wants Congress to pass a law to allow people to refinance college debt. "There's no legit reason" for it to be the only kind of debt you can't refinance in the U.S., he said.

Studies have shown that high quality pre-K reduces the likelihood of becoming a teen parent by 40 percent, Tucker said. That ties in to his position on abortion. "I believe most of us want there to be as few abortions in our society as possible," he said. "The evidence shows that making access to care illegal or more difficult does not actually reduce the number of abortions, it just makes them more dangerous for the mother. I believe that care should always be safe for the mother and that the better approach to reducing the number of terminated pregnancies is to reduce their cause, and that is unintended pregnancies. ... At the end of the day, this is the most intensely personal and difficult decision a person could ever make, and so it's one that should be made between a woman, her doctor, her family and her God — not the United States Congress."

Tucker has drawn criticism from his opponents for not fully embracing Medicare for All, but he said he believes "health care is a right." Instead of the single-payer plan, Tucker supports a plan from Senate Democrats Michael Bennet (D-Co.) and Tim Kaine (D-Va.) dubbed Medicare X, which would leave existing health care sources in place while phasing in a public option.

"Everyone has the right to access quality, affordable health care. I think there is a lot of value in providing Medicare as an option. That helps close the accessibility gap. But where we are today, I have trouble forcing people into that route. We have, depending on the estimate you look at, between 150 and 170 million who get insurance from their employer. I think it's fair to say that some, maybe not all, of those people like their health care plan. I like the approach of phasing this in, especially with rural areas. We can learn as we go. Giving people more choices drives down cost."

Tucker downplays the role of the DCCC in recruiting him to run and helping him raise funds, something he's been successful at doing: Despite not entering the race until February, he had raised $505,412 as of March 31. He had spent $60,574 and had $444,838 cash on hand. So far, Tucker is the only candidate to run television ads.

"Over 90 percent of our dollars came from individuals," Tucker said. "People are excited about our campaign. That's what's driving it. My focus is on the 2nd District in Arkansas."

'It's not enough'

Jonathan Dunkley's call to run for Congress came from his 9-year-old daughter. As he was doing her hair one day, she challenged him: What are you doing to make the world better? Dunkley said he reminded her of his extensive volunteer work, the nonprofit he founded aimed at North Little Rock's high school students in living in poverty and his work for the Clinton School of Public Service, but she said, "It's not enough, Dad, Trump is president!" Dunkley announced his candidacy Feb. 20.

Dunkley, 38, works as director of operations at the Clinton School. He lives in Little Rock and is married with two daughters. Born in Independence, La., he grew up in Kissimmee, Fla., just south of Orlando. He started college at Louisiana State University, but transferred to Philander Smith College, where he was student government president.

After college, he worked at ITT Tech, which he said gave him an insight into the predatory practices of for-profit colleges (and helped him pay off his own college loans). He also interned in the office of Democratic Gov. Mike Beebe and earned a master's degree in public service from the Clinton School. His service project at the Clinton School was with the Ministry of Education in Belize, with which he has continued to work on service-learning projects for undergraduates. After graduating from the Clinton School, he returned to the Beebe administration, where he helped administer American Recovery and Reinvestment Act funds. From there, he spent five years heading the John H. Chafee Foster Care to Independence program for youth and young adults leaving the state foster care system, which was part of the state Department of Human Services.

In 2013, he founded International Development Services Inc., the nonprofit that targets North Little Rock High School kids who receive free or reduced lunch. The nonprofit works to help youth plan for their future and think in a global context. Dunkley stepped away from day-to-day operations of the organization last year.

Dunkley pitches himself as the most progressive candidate in the race. He said he admires Bernie Sanders and supports the Medicare for All framework for which Sanders has advocated. "Making money shouldn't be the goal of health care; the goal should be access to quality, affordable care," he said. He wants to increase federal funding for Pell Grants and work-study programs to move toward debt-free higher education. Raising the minimum wage to $15 per hour is another goal.

To pay for those initiatives, he supports legalizing cannabis for recreational use and taxing it. A tax on marijuana could generate billions of dollars, he said. He doesn't want to legalize other drugs, but said he would like to see the country move away from criminalizing addiction. Targeting government waste is another way he envisions paying for new programs.

Although Dunkley is critical of the Republican tax bill passed last year, he said he would not push to restore corporate tax rates to previous levels. "I think it's inappropriate [that Congress lowered the rate to 21 percent], but I'm not shocked. When we elect bankers and corporate leaders to Congress, who else are they going to look after but their buddies? But I don't see it beneficial in the primary for me to have that as my big issue."

Dunkley supports abortion rights. "My mother was 17 when she conceived me. I'm thankful she carried me to term, but I'm also thankful she had a choice to make and it was her decision. These folks who refer to themselves as pro-life, they care about the birth of the child, but talk to them about feeding the kid, talk to them about educating the kid, talk to them about housing the kid, you hear a whole different narrative [from them]: 'That's the parent's responsibility.' "

If elected, Dunkley would be Arkansas's first black congressman, but he said he hasn't made race an issue in the campaign. "I'm hopeful that people will see me over my skin."

Dunkley has lagged in fundraising. His campaign staff is made up of all volunteers. He had raised $19,845, according to the most recent campaign finance records. That includes a $10,000 loan he made to the campaign. He has spent $19,124 and has $970 cash on hand. "We're on a shoestring budget," he said. "Ninety-five percent of my effort is getting out the vote." He said he tells people, "If you vote and get me through May, we'll get all the money we need" because his candidacy would be a national story.

Dunkley said he's running for Congress rather than a local office because the national Democratic Party is badly in need of young rising stars. He looks up to Sanders and U.S. Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.), but notes Sanders is 76 and Warren is 68.

"Republican-lite is going to lose in November," Dunkley said. Establishment politics don't excite the Democratic base, Dunkley said, and he views Tucker as "establishment as it gets. ... I just don't see him in tune with the average Arkansan."

Dunkley sees himself as part of a movement. "We're the future of American politics. If it's not me, it's the next generation of young people coming behind me with the same message. They understand we have emerging industries we have to tap into. They understand we're saddled with student loan debt. They understand that health care costs are unsustainable and outrageous for most."

Battling to retake Arkansas's 2nd Congressional District

[thejustinmarshall]

The Smashing Pumpkins Featuring Original Members Announce First Tour Since 2000

GRAMMY® Award-winning, acclaimed alternative rock pioneers The Smashing Pumpkins today announced the Shiny And Oh So Bright Tour, their first tour in nearly 20 years to feature founding members Billy Corgan, Jimmy Chamberlin, and James Iha. Produced by Live Nation, the 36-city tour will kick off in Glendale, AZ on July 12, 2018 and visit North American arenas throughout the summer. Tickets for the Shiny And Oh So Bright Tour will go on sale to the general public starting next Friday, February 23 at 10:00am local time and be available at www.smashingpumpkins.com, LiveNation.com, and via the Live Nation App.

“Some 30 years ago, as The Smashing Pumpkins, James Iha and I began a musical journey in the cramped rear bedroom of my Father’s house. And so it’s magic to me that we’re able to coalesce once more around the incredible Jimmy Chamberlin, to celebrate those songs we’ve made together,” shared Corgan.

The band broke news of the tour this morning with a dramatic video featuring original Siamese Dream album cover stars Ali Laenger and LySandra Roberts.

The monumental Shiny And Oh So Bright Tour, which coincides with the 30th anniversary of the band’s formation, will highlight music from the group’s inception through 2000, and will exclusively feature material from their groundbreaking debut Gish through Siamese Dream, Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, Adore, and Machina. Longtime Smashing Pumpkins guitarist Jeff Schroeder will also take part, as the band moves to a three guitar lineup to better emulate the signature tones and textures of their albums.

“This show and staging will be unlike any we’ve ever done, and will feature a set unlike any we’ve ever played. For if this is a chance at a new beginning, we plan on ushering it in with a real bang,” added Corgan.

Smashing Pumpkins 2018 North American Tour Dates

July 12, 2018 Glendale, AZ Gila River Arena July 14, 2018 Oklahoma City, OK Chesapeake Energy Arena July 16, 2018 Austin, TX Frank Erwin Center July 17, 2018 Houston, TX Toyota Center July 18, 2018 Dallas, TX American Airlines Center July 20, 2018 Nashville, TN Bridgestone Arena July 21, 2018 Louisville, KY KFC Yum! Center July 22, 2018 Atlanta, GA Infinite Energy Arena July 24, 2018 Miami, FL AmericanAirlines Arena July 25, 2018 Tampa, FL Amalie Arena July 27, 2018 Baltimore, MD Royal Farms Arena July 28, 2018 Philadelphia, PA Wells Fargo Center July 29, 2018 Uncasville, CT Mohegan Sun Arena July 31, 2018 Boston, MA TD Garden August 01, 2018 New York City, NY Madison Square Garden August 04, 2018 Pittsburgh, PA PPG Paints Arena August 05, 2018 Detroit, MI Little Caesars Arena August 07, 2018 Montreal Centre Bell August 08, 2018 Toronto Air Canada Centre August 11, 2018 Columbus, OH Schottenstein Center August 13, 2018 Chicago, IL United Center August 16, 2018 Kansas City, MO Sprint Center August 17, 2018 Indianapolis, IN Bankers Life Fieldhouse August 19, 2018 St. Paul, MN Xcel Energy Center August 20, 2018 Omaha, NE CenturyLink Center August 21, 2018 Sioux Falls, SD Denny Sanford Premier Center August 24, 2018 Seattle, WA KeyArena August 25, 2018 Portland, OR Moda Center August 27, 2018 Oakland, CA Oracle Arena August 28, 2018 Sacramento, CA Golden 1 Center August 30, 2018 Los Angeles, CA The Forum September 01, 2018 San Diego, CA Viejas Arena September 02, 2018 Las Vegas, NV T-Mobile Arena September 04, 2018 Salt Lake City, UT Vivint Smart Home Arena September 05, 2018 Denver, CO Pepsi Center September 07, 2018 Boise, ID Ford Idaho Center

The post The Smashing Pumpkins Featuring Original Members Announce First Tour Since 2000 appeared first on Concert Blogger.

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[mycryptosuite]

Today Prediction For Midweek For 19/01/2022

Today Prediction For Midweek For 19/01/2022

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