#lower operating costs

[hsmagazine254]

Electric Cars: Accelerating Towards a Sustainable Future

Embracing the Revolution of Electric Vehicles In recent years, the automotive industry has witnessed a significant shift towards electric vehicles (EVs), marking a crucial step in our journey towards a greener and more sustainable future. Electric cars offer numerous advantages over traditional combustion-engine vehicles, including reduced emissions, lower operating costs, and a thrilling driving…

[empresa-journal]

Will Tesla (TSLA) dominate the Auto Business?

Tesla (TSLA) could dominate the auto business with an old-fashioned business strategy: discounting. To explain, Tesla Motors’ (TSLA) production costs could fall so low. Competitors cannot match them. Hence, Tesla could dominate the market with cheap electric vehicles. Tesla has cut the cost of its vehicles in half in the last five years, Eletrek claims. Elektrek provides no numbers but a new…

[queerliblib]

QLL in the media again! Love what we’re doing?! Help us keep doing it 🌈 📚

[nasa]

What We Learned from Flying a Helicopter on Mars

The Ingenuity Mars Helicopter made history – not only as the first aircraft to perform powered, controlled flight on another world – but also for exceeding expectations, pushing the limits, and setting the stage for future NASA aerial exploration of other worlds.

Built as a technology demonstration designed to perform up to five experimental test flights over 30 days, Ingenuity performed flight operations from the Martian surface for almost three years. The helicopter ended its mission on Jan. 25, 2024, after sustaining damage to its rotor blades during its 72nd flight.

So, what did we learn from this small but mighty helicopter?

We can fly rotorcraft in the thin atmosphere of other planets.

Ingenuity proved that powered, controlled flight is possible on other worlds when it took to the Martian skies for the first time on April 19, 2021.

Flying on planets like Mars is no easy feat: The Red Planet has a significantly lower gravity – one-third that of Earth’s – and an extremely thin atmosphere, with only 1% the pressure at the surface compared to our planet. This means there are relatively few air molecules with which Ingenuity’s two 4-foot-wide (1.2-meter-wide) rotor blades can interact to achieve flight.

Ingenuity performed several flights dedicated to understanding key aerodynamic effects and how they interact with the structure and control system of the helicopter, providing us with a treasure-trove of data on how aircraft fly in the Martian atmosphere.

Now, we can use this knowledge to directly improve performance and reduce risk on future planetary aerial vehicles.

Creative solutions and “ingenuity” kept the helicopter flying longer than expected.

Over an extended mission that lasted for almost 1,000 Martian days (more than 33 times longer than originally planned), Ingenuity was upgraded with the ability to autonomously choose landing sites in treacherous terrain, dealt with a dead sensor, dusted itself off after dust storms, operated from 48 different airfields, performed three emergency landings, and survived a frigid Martian winter.

Fun fact: To keep costs low, the helicopter contained many off-the-shelf-commercial parts from the smartphone industry - parts that had never been tested in deep space. Those parts also surpassed expectations, proving durable throughout Ingenuity’s extended mission, and can inform future budget-conscious hardware solutions.

There is value in adding an aerial dimension to interplanetary surface missions.

Ingenuity traveled to Mars on the belly of the Perseverance rover, which served as the communications relay for Ingenuity and, therefore, was its constant companion. The helicopter also proved itself a helpful scout to the rover.

After its initial five flights in 2021, Ingenuity transitioned to an “operations demonstration,” serving as Perseverance’s eyes in the sky as it scouted science targets, potential rover routes, and inaccessible features, while also capturing stereo images for digital elevation maps.

Airborne assets like Ingenuity unlock a new dimension of exploration on Mars that we did not yet have – providing more pixels per meter of resolution for imaging than an orbiter and exploring locations a rover cannot reach.

Tech demos can pay off big time.

Ingenuity was flown as a technology demonstration payload on the Mars 2020 mission, and was a high risk, high reward, low-cost endeavor that paid off big. The data collected by the helicopter will be analyzed for years to come and will benefit future Mars and other planetary missions.

Just as the Sojourner rover led to the MER-class (Spirit and Opportunity) rovers, and the MSL-class (Curiosity and Perseverance) rovers, the team believes Ingenuity’s success will lead to future fleets of aircraft at Mars.

In general, NASA’s Technology Demonstration Missions test and advance new technologies, and then transition those capabilities to NASA missions, industry, and other government agencies. Chosen technologies are thoroughly ground- and flight-tested in relevant operating environments — reducing risks to future flight missions, gaining operational heritage and continuing NASA’s long history as a technological leader.

You can fall in love with robots on another planet.

Following in the tracks of beloved Martian rovers, the Ingenuity Mars Helicopter built up a worldwide fanbase. The Ingenuity team and public awaited every single flight with anticipation, awe, humor, and hope.

Check out #ThanksIngenuity on social media to see what’s been said about the helicopter’s accomplishments.

Learn more about Ingenuity’s accomplishments here. And make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[communistkenobi]

the things about gentrification that are “good,” ie, increased walkability of neighbourhoods, renewal and renovation of unused buildings, increased mixed-use zoning, the opening of a variety of businesses that (theoretically) increase access to more diverse goods, are (correctly) interpreted as portents of doom by local residents not because poor people are stupid and reactionary and hate good things, but rather because the privatised character of urban “renewal” (gentrification) means these goods are only available to the middle classes who are coming into these neighbourhoods and “flipping” them. walkability and access to goods are not evil, but privatising them is, and that is what gentrification is - it is renewal in privatised form. I think it’s helpful to view it this way, both to call attention to the fact that a public, state-led version of this kind of renewal is possible, a version where these things benefit all residents, and also to respond to YIMBYism, to the middle classes who stand to benefit from gentrification because it provides comparatively lower costs to operate businesses, own property, and pay rent than in other parts of cities or other cities altogether. this is part of the same phenomenon as people “flipping” homes (a part of the process of gentrification itself); it is not to create a pretty and liveable home where there was once an abandoned one, but to turn a profit

[headspace-hotel]

I went down the internet rabbit hole trying to figure out wtf vegan cheese is made of and I found articles like this one speaking praises of new food tech startups creating vegan alternatives to cheese that Actually work like cheese in cooking so I was like huh that's neat and I looked up more stuff about 'precision fermentation' and. This is not good.

Basically these new biotech companies are pressuring governments to let them build a ton of new factories and pushing for governments to pay for them or to provide tax breaks and subsidies, and the factories are gonna cost hundreds of millions of dollars and require energy sources. Like, these things will have to be expensive and HUGE

I feel like I've just uncovered the tip of the "lab grown meat" iceberg. There are a bajillion of these companies (the one mentioned in the first article a $750 MILLION tech startup) that are trying to create "animal-free" animal products using biotech and want to build large factories to do it on a large scale

I'm trying to use google to find out about the energy requirements of such facilities and everything is really vague and hand-wavey about it like this article that's like "weeeeeell electricity can be produced using renewables" but it does take a lot of electricity, sugars, and human labor. Most of the claims about its sustainability appear to assume that we switch over to renewable electricity sources and/or use processes that don't fully exist yet.

I finally tracked down the source of some of the more radical claims about precision fermentation, and it comes from a think tank RethinkX that released a report claiming that the livestock industry will collapse by 2030, and be replaced by a system they're calling...

Food-as-Software, in which individual molecules engineered by scientists are uploaded to databases – molecular cookbooks that food engineers anywhere in the world can use to design products in the same way that software developers design apps.

I'm finding it hard to be excited about this for some odd reason

Where's the evidence for lower environmental impacts. That's literally what we're here for.

There will be an increase in the amount of electricity used in the new food system as the production facilities that underpin it rely on electricity to operate.

well that doesn't sound good.

This will, however, be offset by reductions in energy use elsewhere along the value chain. For example, since modern meat and dairy products will be produced in a sterile environment where the risk of contamination by pathogens is low, the need for refrigeration in storage and retail will decrease significantly.

Oh, so it will be better for the Earth because...we won't need to refrigerate. ????????

Oh Lord Jesus give me some numerical values.

Modern foods will be about 10 times more efficient than a cow at converting feed into end products because a cow needs energy via feed to maintain and build its body over time. Less feed consumed means less land required to grow it, which means less water is used and less waste is produced. The savings are dramatic – more than 10-25 times less feedstock, 10 times less water, five times less energy and 100 times less land.

There is nothing else in this report that I can find that provides evidence for a lower carbon footprint. Supposedly, an egg white protein produced through a similar process has been found to reduce environmental impacts, but mostly everything seems very speculative.

And crucially none of these estimations are taking into account the enormous cost and resource investment of constructing large factories that use this technology in the first place (existing use is mostly for pharmaceutical purposes)

It seems like there are more tech startups attempting to use this technology to create food than individual scientific papers investigating whether it's a good idea. Seriously, Google Scholar and JSTOR have almost nothing. The tech of the sort that RethinkX is describing barely exists.

Apparently Liberation Labs is planning to build the first large-scale precision fermentation facility in Richmond, Indiana come 2024 because of the presence of "a workforce experienced in manufacturing"

And I just looked up Richmond, Indiana and apparently, as of RIGHT NOW, the town is in the aftermath of a huge fire at a plastics recycling plant and is full of toxic debris containing asbestos and the air is full of toxic VOCs and hydrogen cyanide. ???????????? So that's how having a robust industrial sector is working out for them so far.

[reasonsforhope]

"The South Australian premier, Peter Malinauskas, has announced plans to ban political donations from state elections, paving the way for nation-leading electoral reforms.

The state’s electoral amendment bill announced on Wednesday [June 12, 2024] night will ban electoral donations and gifts to registered political parties, members of parliament and candidates. The state will provide funding to allow parties and candidates to contest elections, run campaigns and promote political ideas.

Malinauskas said his bill would put South Australia on the “cusp of becoming a world leader in ending the nexus between money and political power”.

“We want money out of politics. We know this is not easy. These reforms may well face legal challenge,” Malinauskas said.

“But we are determined to deliver them, with this bill to be introduced in the parliament in the near future.”

In a subtle challenge to his federal and state counterparts, the premier told Guardian Australia he thought it was “something that democracies everywhere should be pursuing”.

The Albanese government pledged to introduce spending and donation caps, and truth in political advertising laws, as revealed by Guardian Australia after the 2022 federal election and confirmed by a parliamentary inquiry that reported last July.

The special minister of state, Don Farrell, said last month an agreement between the major parties and the crossbench had not yet been reached. An amendment bill is still expected by the middle of the year.

In order to level the playing field for newly created parties and independent candidates, the South Australia bill will allow candidates to receive donations up to $2,700, although they will remain subject to campaign spending caps.

Those spending caps have been set at $100,000, multiplied by the number of candidates up to a maximum of $500,000.

If the bill is passed, a registered political party will be entitled to a one-off payment of $200,000 before 31 August 2026. Whichever is lower out of $700,000 or the number of party members of parliament multiplied by $47,000 will also be given to parties for operational funding.

Membership fees will be allowed to continue but will be capped at $100 or less a year.

To deter attempts to circumvent the proposed changes, a maximum penalty of $50,000 or 10 years’ imprisonment will apply.

The guide acknowledges the proposal would lead to a rise in the cost of South Australia’s electoral system, but says a tightening of expenditure and party registration rules will keep costs to a minimum.

The Albanese government is under crossbench pressure to introduce electoral reforms before the next federal election.

Lower house independents, including Kate Chaney, Zali Steggall, the Greens, David Pocock, Lidia Thorpe and the Jacqui Lambie Network, joined forces to introduce a bill for fair and transparent elections in March [2024].

The bill contained a suite of reforms including truth-in-political advertising, a ban on donations from socially harmful industries including fossil fuels, and tightening the definition of gifts to capture major party fundraisers, including dinners and business forums."

-via The Guardian, March 18, 2024

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Amazon’s financial shell game let it create an “impossible” monopoly

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then San Francisco (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

For the pro-monopoly crowd that absolutely dominated antitrust law from the Carter administration until 2020, Amazon presents a genuinely puzzling paradox: the company's monopoly power was never supposed to emerge, and if it did, it should have crumbled immediately.

Pro-monopoly economists embody Ely Devons's famous aphorism that "If economists wished to study the horse, they wouldn’t go and look at horses. They’d sit in their studies and say to themselves, ‘What would I do if I were a horse?’":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/27/economism/#what-would-i-do-if-i-were-a-horse

Rather than using the way the world actually works as their starting point for how to think about it, they build elaborate models out of abstract principles like "rational actors." The resulting mathematical models are so abstractly elegant that it's easy to forget that they're just imaginative exercises, disconnected from reality:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/03/all-models-are-wrong/#some-are-useful

These models predicted that it would be impossible for Amazon to attain monopoly power. Even if they became a monopoly – in the sense of dominating sales of various kinds of goods – the company still wouldn't get monopoly power.

For example, if Amazon tried to take over a category by selling goods below cost ("predatory pricing"), then rivals could just wait until the company got tired of losing money and put prices back up, and then those rivals could go back to competing. And if Amazon tried to keep the loss-leader going indefinitely by "cross-subsidizing" the losses with high-margin profits from some other part of its business, rivals could sell those high margin goods at a lower margin, which would lure away Amazon customers and cut the supply lines for the price war it was fighting with its discounted products.

That's what the model predicted, but it's not what happened in the real world. In the real world, Amazon was able use its access to the capital markets to embark on scorched-earth predatory pricing campaigns. When diapers.com refused to sell out to Amazon, the company casually committed $100m to selling diapers below cost. Diapers.com went bust, Amazon bought it for pennies on the dollar and shut it down:

https://www.theverge.com/2019/5/13/18563379/amazon-predatory-pricing-antitrust-law

Investors got the message: don't compete with Amazon. They can remain predatory longer than you can remain solvent.

Now, not everyone shared the antitrust establishment's confidence that Amazon couldn't create a durable monopoly with market power. In 2017, Lina Khan – then a third year law student – published "Amazon's Antitrust Paradox," a landmark paper arguing that Amazon had all the tools it needed to amass monopoly power:

https://www.yalelawjournal.org/note/amazons-antitrust-paradox

Today, Khan is chair of the FTC, and has brought a case against Amazon that builds on some of the theories from that paper. One outcome of that suit is an unprecedented look at Amazon's internal operations. But, as the Institute for Local Self-Reliance's Stacy Mitchell describes in a piece for The Atlantic, key pieces of information have been totally redacted in the court exhibits:

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2024/02/amazon-profits-antitrust-ftc/677580/

The most important missing datum: how much money Amazon makes from each of its lines of business. Amazon's own story is that it basically breaks even on its retail operation, and keeps the whole business afloat with profits from its AWS cloud computing division. This is an important narrative, because if it's true, then Amazon can't be forcing up retail prices, which is the crux of the FTC's case against the company.

Here's what we know for sure about Amazon's retail business. First: merchants can't live without Amazon. The majority of US households have Prime, and 90% of Prime households start their ecommerce searches on Amazon; if they find what they're looking for, they buy it and stop. Thus, merchants who don't sell on Amazon just don't sell. This is called "monopsony power" and it's a lot easier to maintain than monopoly power. For most manufacturers, a 10% overnight drop in sales is a catastrophe, so a retailer that commands even a 10% market-share can extract huge concessions from its suppliers. Amazon's share of most categories of goods is a lot higher than 10%!

What kind of monopsony power does Amazon wield? Well, for one thing, it is able to levy a huge tax on its sellers. Add up all the junk-fees Amazon charges its platform sellers and it comes out to 45-51%:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

Competitive businesses just don't have 45% margins! No one can afford to kick that much back to Amazon. What is a merchant to do? Sell on Amazon and you lose money on every sale. Don't sell on Amazon and you don't get any business.

The only answer: raise prices on Amazon. After all, Prime customers – the majority of Amazon's retail business – don't shop for competitive prices. If Amazon wants a 45% vig, you can raise your Amazon prices by a third and just about break even.

But Amazon is wise to that: they have a "most favored nation" rule that punishes suppliers who sell goods more cheaply in rival stores, or even on their own site. The punishments vary, from banishing your products to page ten million of search-results to simply kicking you off the platform. With publishers, Amazon reserves the right to lower the prices they set when listing their books, to match the lowest price on the web, and paying publishers less for each sale.

That means that suppliers who sell on Amazon (which is anyone who wants to stay in business) have to dramatically hike their prices on Amazon, and when they do, they also have to hike their prices everywhere else (no wonder Prime customers don't bother to search elsewhere for a better deal!).

Now, Amazon says this is all wrong. That 45-51% vig they claim from business customers is barely enough to break even. The company's profits – they insist – come from selling AWS cloud service. The retail operation is just a public service they provide to us with cross-subsidy from those fat AWS margins.

This is a hell of a claim. Last year, Amazon raked in $130 billion in seller fees. In other words: they booked more revenue from junk fees than Bank of America made through its whole operation. Amazon's junk fees add up to more than all of Meta's revenues:

https://s2.q4cdn.com/299287126/files/doc_financials/2023/q4/AMZN-Q4-2023-Earnings-Release.pdf

Amazon claims that none of this is profit – it's just covering their operating expenses. According to Amazon, its non-AWS units combined have a one percent profit margin.

Now, this is an eye-popping claim indeed. Amazon is a public company, which means that it has to make thorough quarterly and annual financial disclosures breaking down its profit and loss. You'd think that somewhere in those disclosures, we'd find some details.

You'd think so, but you'd be wrong. Amazon's disclosures do not break out profits and losses by segment. SEC rules actually require the company to make these per-segment disclosures:

https://scholarship.law.stjohns.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=3524&context=lawreview#:~:text=If%20a%20company%20has%20more,income%20taxes%20and%20extraordinary%20items.

That rule was enacted in 1966, out of concern that companies could use cross-subsidies to fund predatory pricing and other anticompetitive practices. But over the years, the SEC just…stopped enforcing the rule. Companies have "near total managerial discretion" to lump business units together and group their profits and losses in bloated, undifferentiated balance-sheet items:

https://www.ucl.ac.uk/bartlett/public-purpose/publications/2021/dec/crouching-tiger-hidden-dragons

As Mitchell points you, it's not just Amazon that flouts this rule. We don't know how much money Google makes on Youtube, or how much Apple makes from the App Store (Apple told a federal judge that this number doesn't exist). Warren Buffett – with significant interest in hundreds of companies across dozens of markets – only breaks out seven segments of profit-and-loss for Berkshire Hathaway.

Recall that there is one category of data from the FTC's antitrust case against Amazon that has been completely redacted. One guess which category that is! Yup, the profit-and-loss for its retail operation and other lines of business.

These redactions are the judge's fault, but the real fault lies with the SEC. Amazon is a public company. In exchange for access to the capital markets, it owes the public certain disclosures, which are set out in the SEC's rulebook. The SEC lets Amazon – and other gigantic companies – get away with a degree of secrecy that should disqualify it from offering stock to the public. As Mitchell says, SEC chairman Gary Gensler should adopt "new rules that more concretely define what qualifies as a segment and remove the discretion given to executives."

Amazon is the poster-child for monopoly run amok. As Yanis Varoufakis writes in Technofeudalism, Amazon has actually become a post-capitalist enterprise. Amazon doesn't make profits (money derived from selling goods); it makes rents (money charged to people who are seeking to make a profit):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

Profits are the defining characteristic of a capitalist economy; rents are the defining characteristic of feudalism. Amazon looks like a bazaar where thousands of merchants offer goods for sale to the public, but look harder and you discover that all those stallholders are totally controlled by Amazon. Amazon decides what goods they can sell, how much they cost, and whether a customer ever sees them. And then Amazon takes $0.45-51 out of every dollar. Amazon's "marketplace" isn't like a flea market, it's more like the interconnected shops on Disneyland's Main Street, USA: the sign over the door might say "20th Century Music Company" or "Emporium," but they're all just one store, run by one company.

And because Amazon has so much control over its sellers, it is able to exercise power over its buyers. Amazon's search results push down the best deals on the platform and promote results from more expensive, lower-quality items whose sellers have paid a fortune for an "ad" (not really an ad, but rather the top spot in search listings):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/29/aethelred-the-unready/#not-one-penny-for-tribute

This is "Amazon's pricing paradox." Amazon can claim that it offers low-priced, high-quality goods on the platform, but it makes $38b/year pushing those good deals way, way down in its search results. The top result for your Amazon search averages 29% more expensive than the best deal Amazon offers. Buy something from those first four spots and you'll pay a 25% premium. On average, you need to pick the seventeenth item on the search results page to get the best deal:

https://scholarship.law.bu.edu/faculty_scholarship/3645/

For 40 years, pro-monopoly economists claimed that it would be impossible for Amazon to attain monopoly power over buyers and sellers. Today, Amazon exercises that power so thoroughly that its junk-fee revenues alone exceed the total revenues of Bank of America. Amazon's story – that these fees barely stretch to covering its costs – assumes a nearly inconceivable level of credulity in its audience. Regrettably – for the human race – there is a cohort of senior, highly respected economists who possess this degree of credulity and more.

Of course, there's an easy way to settle the argument: Amazon could just comply with SEC regs and break out its P&L for its e-commerce operation. I assure you, they're not hiding this data because they think you'll be pleasantly surprised when they do and they don't want to spoil the moment.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/01/managerial-discretion/#junk-fees

Image: Doc Searls (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/docsearls/4863121221/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[redtsundere-writes]

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 12: Apprentices

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 4881 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

Your gaze fixed on the target. The curse holding it was walking from side to side in a straight line as it mocked your poor aim. Practicing with the curses still wreck your nerves as not being used to seeing them as equals. They were supernatural beings that killed humans for hunger or simple fun, the main enemy in your universe. They were grotesque, mean and rude to all servants, constantly threatening that they would have been eaten already if it wasn't for King Sukuna. He is the one who decides when and how much the curses under his charge eat. Living in the castle of the great man-eating tyrant was like a rabbit living in a cage with hundreds of tigers. 

Your arms tensed as you drew the bowstring taut. The feather at the end of the arrow tickled your fingers, tempting them to let go. It was your first time practicing with moving targets. You took a deep breath before your fingers let go of the string. The arrow swam like a salmon against the current until it stuck against the top of the target’s perimeter. You lowered the bow with an exasperated sigh. 

“It was a good shot,” Kenjaku, who was supervising today’s training, cheered you on as he applauded your attempt. 

“I don't need it to be good, I need it to be perfect,” you took another arrow out of the quiver. 

You loaded the weapon and looked for the easiest target to hit from your position,  noticing the curse approaching the center of your field of vision. You reviewed the advice Sukuna had given you in your previous lessons. As you remembered his soft purr against your ear, his beefy body next to yours, his breath against your cheek and his hands covering yours. He always caused you to lose your concentration, sabotaging your attempts to focus by projecting memories of their times together into your mind. You were beginning to miss him as your teacher. 

It had been a couple of weeks since Sukuna told you that Yorozu would be his new sorcerer's apprentice. You faked surprise even though you had overheard their conversation and you were dying of worry inside. Your head was filled with all the possible scenarios where everything could go wrong. Being the older sister, your priority was to protect Yorozu at any cost. You had to make sure she ate well, slept in a comfortable place and that Sukuna didn't kill her at the slightest provocation. Luckily, you could watch your little sister practice her new skills from the library window while you studied. You had to be careful, though. If Kenjaku caught you distracted, he would hit you over the head with whatever he had in his hand to get your attention back. 

You found Yorozu's powers fascinating. From what little you had picked up of her cursed technique, she could recreate any object she knew. Sukuna began her training by showing her the various weapons in his possession for her to recreate with the help of her cursed energy. They then went on to observe various insects and birds to test if she could recreate animal materials. She could. You almost fainted the first time you saw her grow a pair of firefly wings between her shoulder blades. She was getting more powerful every day and it scared you.

Even though Yorozu was emasculating and foolish, Sukuna could not afford to waste her abilities. A sorceress with a technique so powerful that she was willing to serve him was good, too good to be true. During her lessons, he had dedicated himself to analyzing her movements and every word she uttered to decipher what she wanted from him. He knew that human interactions are based on transactions. Communication, buying and selling, democracy, almost everything they have built is based on I give you something so that you give me something in return. Yorozu could appear to be happy serving him, but he knew perfectly well that it was a facade to get something.

You hated the idea of Sukuna being close to your sister. It bothered you to see them so close when the king was correcting her posture when it came to wielding a sword or inspecting her new creations. The thought of him taking advantage of her or hurting her in any way drove you crazy. You didn't want her to go through what you went through in your early days at the castle. Psychological, physical and verbal humiliation from a tyrant was something you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy, much less your little sister. Luckily, it didn't seem to be like that... for now. If Sukuna even thought of laying a finger on her, you'd make him pay.

The very thought of him being near her at all times, of him holding her hip, or of his voice being as gentle as it was with you caused you a discomfort you had never felt before. The next thing you knew, your fingers were no longer holding the arrow. The arrow flew along with your dark thoughts. You barely realized what you were feeling. Your body froze for a second until the arrow slammed into the head of the curse holding the target. 

The curse staggered from the impact, but quickly regained its balance and yanked the foreign object out of its skull. You were shocked to see what you had done. You hurt a curse that was helping you. When you were about to apologize for your terrible mistake, the curse growled at you in annoyance as its skull regenerated by its reverse curse technique. It looked at you with a "If you do that again, I'm going to kill you" face. It was only restrained by the fact that Sukuna had ordered them not to mess with you. 

“That one wasn't so bad,” Kenjaku smiled at you so you wouldn't feel bad about hurting someone by accident. 

“I didn't mean to,” you replied sadly. 

“A little more meaning and you'll be ready to kill someone,” Kenjaku joked, but you didn't laugh. The fact that he saw death as a joke bothered you, but you had learned to tolerate it. “Let's take a break, what do you say?” Your teacher changed the subject immediately upon noticing your discomfort.

You took off your quiver and gloves while your teacher told the curses to take a break. As we reached the coldest days of winter, Sukuna had gotten you a fur cloak so you could practice outdoors without dying of hypothermia. You put on the plush hat and wrapped yourself in the cloak as if it were a blanket. It wasn't that cold today, but the material was so soft you just wanted to rub your face on it. 

You laid the equipment on the table as you watched Kenjaku carefully. He was a strange creature. Even though you knew he was a body invaded by a curse, you weren't afraid of him like Sukuna or Uraume. It helped that he had the body of a really attractive man. His long dark hair reminded you of the same night you see through the window. His traditional clothes were always ironed and moved delicately. His sharp, yet radiant eyes were what caught your attention the most, they looked full of life for someone dead. 

“Tell me about yourself,” you asked him as if you were asking him to tell you a bedtime story. 

“What do you want to know?” Kenjaku asked you, turning his attention back to you. 

“Whose body are you possessing?” 

“Don't you recognize it?” Your master raised an eyebrow in surprise. 

“Should I?” He let out a loud laugh. 

“Right. Sometimes I forget that you come from humble beginnings.” He loved to emphasize to you the abysmal difference in class between you. “The person in front of you is King Suguru Geto.” 

You knew that name perfectly. Like King Satoru, he was a highly sought-after king among the nation's single women. After the death of King Geto, his handsome son had to take over the kingdom earlier than planned. He was rumored to be a kind-hearted, powerful man and had a brilliant mind as the only kingdom to have a direct relationship with the Gojo kingdom. Your mother went on and on about how much she wanted one of her daughters to marry him. You could only shake your head at her delusions. "As if we could get close to him" you thought amusedly. 

“Is this man King Suguru Geto?” You asked, still trying to process that you were in front of the corpse of a king. 

“It was,” Kenjaku said with a mocking smile. 

“Did you kill him?” You asked even more surprised. 

When King Suguru was killed, the news spread like wildfire among the villages. All you knew was that he was found dead of poisoning on the morning of the fifth anniversary of his coronation. His death had become quite a mystery, as he had no enemy kingdoms and was in good health the night before. 

“I wish. I took over his body before they wanted to revive him,” Kenjaku replied. 

“It is a pity that you died, your majesty,” you said as you bowed to him. 

“There is no need to call me that, miss. Suguru Geto died years ago,” Kenjaku clarified, uncomfortably, at the bow. 

“I believe the bodies are sacred. It’s the temple we live with all our lives and it is the memory we leave of our existence,” you explained. “Humans deserve respect, even if they are no longer here.”

You learned that when your father died. Your mother was so deep in her mourning that she didn't even want to get out of bed for the small funeral they had planned. You and Yorozu were the ones in charge of burying your father with tears falling on the ground, while Nanako and Mimiko picked flowers to place on his grave. The weight on your heart did not compare to the weight of the incomplete body as they placed him in his makeshift coffin, a wooden box they had built with rusty nails. 

Your father passed away one night on his way home from work. He was walking through the tall grasses under the dark sky, excited to get home to see his family. The night was so dark that he never saw the group of curses stalking behind him coming. They pounced on him and did not hesitate to eat him alive. According to neighbors who lived nearby, the cries of pain and pity were so loud that they woke them up. When the neighbors arrived with torches and guns, your father was no longer breathing. 

Your poor father was missing his legs, arms and part of his torso, but still, they moved his body carefully as if he were whole. Despite his tragic and unexpected death, your father deserved a decent funeral even though they didn't have much money. Among his entire family, they placed the coffin in the grave they had dug while a neighbor sang a ballad about his life. His wife and daughters did not keep their feelings in the minute of silence. Maybe he wasn’t the most brilliant, rich nor exceptional man, but he will be missed and they won't forget about him. 

“Humans and curses have something in common,” Kenjaku approached you so you could look him in the eye. “Our bodies may rot and turn to dust, but our souls always live on.” 

“Really?” You asked. 

“I assure you,” Kenjaku took your cheek to caress it with his thumb in an attempt to comfort you. 

Even though Sukuna was a ridiculously giant curse, he was a master of vigilance. Unbeknownst to you, he was always watching you. Whether it was with his own eyes or through one of his curses, he knew what you were doing and with whom every moment of the day. Today was no exception. He clenched his fist as he saw how close Kenjaku was to you. They should be practicing as he had instructed, not fondling you in broad daylight. Luckily, you had arrived at the right time to stop him. He walked out of the castle with Yorozu following him like a well-behaved duckling to where they were to stop the scene. 

“Why the fuck aren't you practicing?” Sukuna scolded Kenjaku with a fierce roar. Seeing him, he and you bowed at his arrival. 

“She had been practicing for an hour. Rest is important so as not to wear out the muscles of humans,” Kenjaku explained without a weight of guilt. Sukuna looked at you, there was no trace of guilt on your face either. "I'll let it go this time," he thought in annoyance. 

“Sister, look at the dress the king got me! Isn't it pretty?” Yorozu approached you. 

She opened the black cloak that covered her from the cold to show the white dress that Sukuna had commissioned Uraume to make for her practices. It had long sleeves, tied at the waist with a long ribbon and the skirt came below her knees so she could move freely. It wasn't as elegant or complicated as yours, but it was better than the maid's uniform. 

“It is very nice. Our king has very good taste,” you said as you saw your sister happy about her new garment. 

Yorozu has loved dresses for as long as you can remember. The delicate fabric, the pretty beading, the interesting designs and how the skirt moves on the dance floors. You remembered the birthday when your father gave her a set of crayons that was incomplete, she got so excited that she started running and screaming all over the house. Since then, you used to see her sitting at the small desk you shared, drawing her own designs. She was the reason her mother spent money on dresses. Yorozu would promise her that if she bought her one, she would flirt with the richest man at the ball. She never did, playing with her mother’s narcissist feelings.

“The king told me that if I behave well, I can have a dress as beautiful as yours. Isn't that right, my king?” Yorozu said before returning to Sukuna to hug him by the arm. 

Your left eye twitched when she approached him with such confidence. You could never do something like that, afraid the king would take it the wrong way. You didn't understand how Yorozu could be so trusting as to act so naturally. 

“I'll get you one when you prove you deserve it,” Sukuna said reluctantly because she was touching him without his permission. 

Training Yorozu turned out to be more complicated than he thought it would be. She was a completely different girl from you, more so than he thought. She was shrill, distracted, and sometimes more cloying than chocolate ice cream. You wanted to push her against the ground like you used to, but this time you held back the urge because you were right in front of them. Yorozu squealed with delight at the response. 

“Today I want Yorozu to learn how to use a bow,” Sukuna explained. “I want you to show me how much you have learned in this time that I have not been training you.” He turned to you, that only made you feel more nervous. 

“I think it's an excellent idea. The best method of study is teaching,” Kenjaku commented. 

“This is going to be so much fun!” Yorozu squealed excitedly. You just nodded complacently. 

The first stage of the training was for Yorozu to create her own archery equipment. This would be of great help to them in the future. In case you were in the middle of an invasion, the moment you ran out of arrows, Yorozu could create more easily. She took your bow to examine it closely. Her black eyes examined its elements and details with utmost care, memorizing each part to perfection. Her hands molded to the wooden body and her fingers felt the thickness of the string. You had never seen Yorozu so focused in your life. 

She handed the bow back to you to generate her own from her own hands. It was the first time you had seen her power at such close quarters. The wood, the strong string and the feathers of the arrows began to emerge from a strange energy emanating from her. It was a wonderful power if it could create anything. She could fix what was broken or help those in need. There were endless possibilities that Yorozu had at her fingertips. It was a shame that she had decided to use her power to hurt others. 

Your sister ended up with a stronger and sturdier bow than yours that she had customized herself. The wood looked of better quality and the arrows had purple feathers to distinguish them from yours, which were white. Yorozu showed the king her new creation with a proud smile. You may not have agreed that she would fight for the king, but the important thing was that she was happy. 

The afternoon passed slowly as you taught Yorozu everything you had learned so far. You taught her the correct T-position, how to release the arrow correctly and how to hit as close to the center as possible. Sukuna and Kenjaku were watching from a considerable distance, they could hear all the advice that both of them had given you in the last weeks. 

Sukuna was proud that you had really memorized everything he had taught you. He was beginning to see the leader within you come to the surface. Just as he had planned, but this was only the beginning. There were many more things you had to learn. All at its time. 

After an hour of basic archery class, Yorozu was ready to aim on her own. She loaded the bow, held the arrow in a T-position and looked at the target as you had taught her. She released the arrow with force and missed the target. She missed once, twice, three... so many times to the point that she got fed up and broke the bow in half with the help of her knee. Kenjaku looked at her in grief, while Sukuna grabbed his forehead in disappointment. You approached your sister to calm her down. 

“Take it easy. It's a skill that takes practice,” you told her with a smile to cheer her up, just like Kenjaku sometimes did with you. 

“I need motivation.” Yorozu said before creating another bow with her cursed technique. That's when she got a great idea. “Let's hold a competition. Whoever hits the target closest wins.” She encouraged you. This sparked the interest of the teachers that were looking at them. 

“Sounds like fun,” You told her excitedly. This would be like playing with her again like they used to do when you were kids. 

“Let's bet something to make it more interesting,” Yorozu said excitedly. 

“I like that idea.” You thought of something you wanted from her. “If I win, I want you to give me a foot massage,” you told her with a wicked little smile. 

“Ew, gross.”

Sukuna smiled to himself to see you laughing and joking like that. It was a side he never thought he would see up close. Being a large, carnivorous curse, those below him on the food chain feared him with good reason. He was so used to seeing you cry, suffer and beg for your lives that he had forgotten that you can also rejoice, thrill and be passionate. I had completely forgotten that you were once a free girl with a say who tells jokes, plays with her sisters and enjoys cooking for her family. He would like to see you more like that, to be the real you without being afraid of him.

Unfortunately, if Sukuna wanted to achieve his goals, he had to keep your leash short. You had to be the perfect wife so that you would become the perfect mother that his future heir would need to become a strong leader. There was no time for the foolish things humans like to do. Sukuna's face returned to its serious countenance. 

“But if I win..." Yorozu thought out loud until she hyper-focused on what you were wearing. “I want your dress.” She dared you with her dark eyes. 

You weren't sure you could do that. Underneath your fur cloak, there was a sky blue dress with beautiful gems encrusted on the chest that flowed down to the skirt. It was one of the dresses Sukuna had given you. You couldn't give away something as precious as that. 

“The king gave it to me. I can't give it to you, choose another prize,” you said to Yorozu while looking at Sukuna. 

“Oh, come on! I've seen you wear seven different dresses in the last week! I don't think our dear king will mind if you give me one, right?” Yorozu looked at Sukuna with sad puppy dog eyes. 

You really liked that dress. It was the one that best accentuated your body of all the ones you had. It had hanging sleeves that allowed you to archery comfortably. All the other dresses were nice, but that one was your favorite. You looked at Sukuna as if you were asking him to say no.

“Bet it,” Sukuna finally spoke. You and Kenjaku were surprised at how easily he had agreed. 

“You are the best, my king!” Yorozu shouted happily. “Let's begin.” She shook your hand to start the competition. 

Being the one who had been practicing the longest, you went first. You saw the still target 50 meters away from you. You took a deep breath as you got into position. It was perfect. You pulled the arrow all the way under your chin. It was perfect. Your fingertips barely tensed the string as you drew the invisible trajectory. It would be a perfect shot. You could feel it. Finally, you released the string and the arrow traveled at full speed until it hit the top perimeter of the yellow center. It was as close as you've ever come to hitting the bullseye. 

“Good job, miss!” Kenjaku congratulated you as he clapped like a proud father. Sukuna just analyzed the target. It wasn't a perfect shot, but it was very close to it. 

“Not bad,” Yorozu said competitively as he positioned himself in front of the target. “Now watch and learn,” She smiled wickedly. She was up to something. 

She placed the arrow on the bow and did exactly what you did. Everything rigorously as you had dictated during the lesson. You analyzed what she did in case you could give her any advice. Yorozu was confident that she would win. Once she had the center in her sights, she made the arrow and bow increase in size under her fingers with the help of her technique. You recoiled as you noticed the drastic change. Unable to cope with the new weight of your weapon, she released the arrow to lower the bow as quickly as possible. You followed the arrow's journey with your eyes as your mouth opened at the tremendous impact, destroying the straw target completely. 

“Well, I think there is a clear winner,” Yorozu looked at you with malice. 

“It's not fair. You used your technique,” you said annoyed. 

“You never forbade me,” Yorozu declared. “Now, don't be a sore loser and give me my prize.” She raised her hand to you.

“Now?!” You groaned as you slammed your cloak shut. Yorozu nodded energetically. 

The blush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks. It was embarrassing, but you had accepted the deal. It hurt to give up that dress, but at least Yorozu would have something nice to wear, just like you. You closed the cloak and reached for the ribbons that tied it behind your back to get rid of the dress that wrapped around you. Luckily you were wearing a corset and a white bottom, so you wouldn't be naked. You jumped out of the dress and gave it to her. 

“Yay!” Yorozu shouted excitedly.

She yanked off her white dress, revealing that she was completely naked underneath. Kenjaku and you watched in horror, while Sukuna simply looked away. He really hated to see her naked during practice, so he forced her to at least put on a haori.

“Why aren't you wearing any underwear!” You scolded her, embarrassed. 

“Why are you wearing underwear?” Yorozu asked, playing it down as she put on the new dress. 

She pulled the dress up from the neckline and then put on the sleeves. She tied it in the back as best she could on her own and modeled it to her sister. It fit her...just fit her. She didn't quite fill out the bust, the sleeves swam, and it was tight around her waist. Some parts were tight, while others were too big. She could wear it, but it just didn't look right. 

“How do I look, my king? Don't I look beautiful?” Yorozu asked Sukuna as he modeled the dress for her. He analyzed her for a second.

“I ordered that dress especially for your sister, it is custom made for her,” Sukuna explained when he saw that it did not fill the bust. “It is unique and unrepeatable," Sukuna said as he looked at you. 

You closed the cloak over your chest at those words. Even though you knew he was talking about the dress, a part of you wanted to think that he was dedicating those words to you. Your cheeks reddened at the thought of something out of your imagination. Kenjaku noticed your embarrassment and thought you were embarrassed about being in too little clothing. Quickly, he approached you. 

“Put this on, miss," he said as he took off his yukata. 

You blushed more when you saw the splendid body the late king was hiding. Slim, but well-defined arms, smooth biceps and abs you could carve clothes on. Your lips parted slightly in shock. This was your first time seeing a shirtless man. 

Sukuna was annoyed at the scene he was seeing. Kenjaku was too close to you again, too close for his liking. "Is this how he usually treats her when I'm not around? I should increase my vigilance," he wondered as he watched the scene with disdain. 

As Kenjaku was about to put the yukata over your shoulders, his arms came off his body in the blink of an eye. You were stunned for a second before you could comprehend what on earth had happened. Your mind was awakened when you heard the thud of his arms crashing against the grass, still holding the yukata. Sukuna approached you, pushing Kenjaku by the torso away from you. 

He picked up the garment and draped it over your shoulders. You didn't know what to say about it. Sometimes his actions lacked logic and you found it hard to understand. His thick, clawed fingers brushed against your skin as he helped you tuck your arms into the sleeves. His hands traveled gently to your waist to tie the bow that closed the yukata. He was acting like a fairy tale prince...well, minus the fact that he cut off someone's arms to do it. You could only thank him with a whisper that only he could hear. 

Yorozu squeezed the skirt of her dress tightly, not intending to hide her jealousy. Why was Sukuna treating the woman who didn't want to marry him so tenderly? It wasn't fair. If she had arrived at the castle earlier, he would be in love with her, not you.

Kenjaku watched the scene intently as his arms slowly regenerated. On one hand, he had a spoiled sister who wanted the king's attention. On the other hand, he had the sister who had no idea what was going on. And last but not least, a jealous king who hasn't realized he's jealous. “I think I can do something about this,” he thought.

“Training is over today,” Sukuna grumbled before walking back to the castle at a quick pace to pretend nothing had happened, leaving you with your heart in your hand.

“Yes, my king,” Yorozu, Kenjaku and you said at the same time along with a farewell bow, each in their own world of thoughts.

“Sis, I’ll give you your dress back for a foot massage,” Yorozu told you reluctantly once Sukuna entered the castle.

“Deal,” you said with a smile, happy to have the dress you loved so much back.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Sukuna scolded himself as he walked through the castle halls, hiding his reddish face in shame for letting his emotions get the better of him. It was a good thing the servants feared him, because he didn’t want to talk to anyone. He locked himself in his office with a slam and leaned back in his chair. If he closed his eyes, he could still see your eyes looking up at him in disbelief as he felt your warm skin beneath his cloak. He brushed his hair back in exasperation. “What the fuck is going on?” he thought.

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Masterlist.

[clinicse]

EYESURGERYANTALYA - GOLD

Are you considering eye laser surgery in Turkey? This bustling nation has rapidly become a top destination for individuals seeking advanced eye care treatments at affordable prices. Procedures such as eye laser surgery not only offer a chance for clearer vision but also feature state-of-the-art technology and highly qualified specialists. Additionally, options like trifocal lens surgery and blepharoplasty further enhance your overall eye health and appearance. With its rich culture and scenic beauty, Turkey makes for an appealing backdrop while you undergo transformative treatments.

Eye laser surgery turkey

When considering eye laser surgery Turkey, patients are often drawn by the combination of advanced technology and affordable prices. This type of surgery, often referred to as LASIK, uses state-of-the-art lasers to correct common vision problems such as nearsightedness, farsightedness, and astigmatism. Many clinics in Turkey offer experienced surgeons and modern facilities, making it a popular destination for those seeking improved vision.

One of the main advantages of choosing Turkey for eye laser surgery is the significant cost savings compared to many Western countries. Patients can expect to save anywhere from 30% to 70% on the total cost of the procedure, including travel expenses. This affordability often does not compromise quality, as many Turkish clinics adhere to international standards and boast accreditations from recognized bodies.

Additionally, the pre-operative consultations and post-operative care are typically thorough, ensuring that patients feel comfortable and informed throughout their journey. With a growing number of success stories, eye laser surgery in Turkey continues to gain popularity, making it an appealing option for those looking to enhance their vision safely and effectively.

Trifocal lens surgery turkey

Trifocal lens surgery Turkey is rapidly gaining recognition as an innovative solution for those seeking to improve their vision. This advanced surgical procedure allows patients to obtain clear vision at multiple distances, reducing the need for glasses or contact lenses. With the help of cutting-edge technology and skilled surgeons, many individuals are experiencing enhanced quality of life through this transformative surgery.

Many clinics in Turkey offer a comprehensive package for trifocal lens surgery, including pre-operative evaluations and post-operative care. These packages often come at a fraction of the cost compared to Western countries, making Turkey an attractive destination for medical tourism. Patients can not only experience substantial cost savings but also take advantage of the robust medical infrastructure available in the country, ensuring a safe and comfortable surgical experience.

Furthermore, the success rates for trifocal lens surgery in Turkey are impressive, with many patients achieving satisfactory results within days of the procedure. The procedure itself is typically quick, minimally invasive, and performed with precision, allowing for faster recovery times. As more individuals learn about the benefits of this procedure, Turkey continues to solidify its reputation as a leader in ophthalmic surgery.

Blepharoplasty turkey

Blepharoplasty, commonly known as eyelid surgery, is an increasingly popular cosmetic procedure in Turkey. It involves the removal of excess skin, fat, and muscle from either the upper or lower eyelids to enhance the appearance of the eyes and provide a more youthful look.

Turkey has become a top destination for blepharoplasty due to its combination of skilled surgeons and affordable prices. Many individuals from around the globe are seeking these procedures in major cities such as Istanbul, where advanced medical facilities and experienced professionals abound.

Patients considering blepharoplasty Turkey can expect a thorough consultation where doctors assess individual needs and create tailored treatment plans. Post-operative care and follow-ups are also essential components of the surgery, ensuring that patients achieve the best possible results with minimal complications.

[hsmagazine254]

Choosing The Right Fuel: Diesel vs. Petrol vs. Electric

Navigating the Fuel Landscape: A Comparative Analysis When it comes to choosing the right fuel for your vehicle, the options can be overwhelming. In this article, we’ll provide a comprehensive analysis of the pros and cons of diesel, petrol, and electric vehicles to help you make an informed decision. Diesel Vehicles 1. Fuel Efficiency Diesel engines are known for their superior fuel efficiency,…

[fernsproutxx]

GR96

@fusionspruntcityjournal

So how do you produce electricity with living plants? Simply by using the natural processes that already occur. In short: the plant produces organic matter via photosynthesis. Only part of this organic matter is then used for its own growth. The rest is excreted via the roots. Around the roots, bacteria feed on the organic matter and they release electrons. If you’re able to harvest the electrons into an electrode, you can couple the first electrode to a counter-electrode and build an electrical circuit, like in a battery. The electrons flow back into the natural system via the counter-electrode, so it’s completely circular. Because we use the natural processes around the plant, nature is not harmed. It works day and night, summer and winter. It only stops when the plant and its surroundings completely dry up or freeze over.

Sedum Oviferum

Sedum pachyphyllum is a ground-hugging succulent that spreads by rooting fallen stems and leaves. The succulent also goes by the names “Cerise Moonstones” or “Mauve Pebbles”. The short and stumpy round leaves have a light silvery-purple color; positioned at a right angles to the stem and curve upward, which in the wintertime, the tips of said leaves will turn into a notorious red.

Sedum Oviferum is a succulent that is very easy to grow and maintain. It is a resilient plant that can tolerate drought, moist and dry soils, and when given adequate exposure to sunlight and sufficient water, Cerise Moonstones will thrive outdoors. The Sedum Oviferum succulent grows at its best with regular exposure to sunlight. If Mauve Pebbles are planted in an area in a garden that gets plenty of sunlight per day, you will be rewarded with bright coloured leaves and flowers. In winter and early spring, Cerise Moonstones actively grow and produce blooms featuring red-orange petals and sepals that have the same pigmentation as the leaves. The flowers produced by Cerise Moonstones have a bell shape and a sugary fragrance.

Subterranean Clover

Trifolium subterraneum is also known as the subterranean clover (often shortened to sub clover), or subterranean trefoil. The plant's name comes from its underground seed development, a characteristic not possessed by other clovers. It can thrive in poor-quality soil where other clovers cannot survive.

This species is self-fertilizing, unlike most legume forage crops such as alfalfa and other clovers, which are pollinated by insects, especially honeybees. It is also grown in places where the extreme ranges of soil type and quality, rainfall, and temperature make the variable tolerances of sub clover especially useful.

Functionality

GR96 are powered by any plant of choosing on their back pod (the one we are going to discuss has a giant Sedum Oviferum and multiple sub clovers to operate) which is held in place by five strong suction cups. They’re manufactured for community gardens (strictly only one per garden), but they can also be bought by high class citizens for private properties, though at a way bigger cost since they’re financed by the city.

They can use their hands as scissors, shovels, and for watering (hence the big forearms, for storing the water), the latter which they do by dipping their hands in a bucket, opening the valve on their forearms so they can fill them up and releasing the water from the pinholes on their palms. Their “eyes” are actually a screen that can show plenty expressions, but the two circles above that peripheral screen are the real environmental sensors. They also have the same sensors on their ankles for inspecting the lower plants and ground without the need of kneeling, and their feet are shaped in a way so that weight is evenly distributed, lowering the chances of damaging a plant if they were to step on it. The ear like protrusions are small solar panels, used as backup energy (they don’t have any communication properties). Their speaker aka their “voice” is the mohawk-like structure on the top (which also has their series barcode 128 on the lower back), but when they speak there are these strips at the sides of the face mask that light up with the volume. The mask (non removable) has a set of pipes that are used for analyzing the air quality and humidity of the area surrounding them.

[queerliblib]

WE’RE 2/3 OF THE WAY THERE 🎉

very exciting, very exciting, thank you all so much, let’s finish strong!!

all these $$$ go to lowering hold times, buying new books, & essential operating costs to keep QLL running strong for the next year!

[tastethebloodofmeatthawsmoth]

I'm sure most people know this, but during the time of the "coal wars" in the southern Appalachian mountains, miners didn't work for wages the way a person works today. They lived in towns where everything from the houses to the doctor to the church were owned by the coal company; the towns were not "towns" as we understand them today. In fact, they were usually called "camps." Miners were generally paid by the ton, with the cost of tools, equipment, housing, and the services of the company doctor (routine procedures only) deducted from their pay. When they were actually paid, they were payed in company scrip (not script), tokens redeemable at the company store for various goods and services. In the 1920s, it was law in West Virginia that company scrip had to be redeemable for cash, but in practice this was almost universally ignored, and even when scrip could be cashed out, the cash value was usually lower than the value of the scrip. Combine this with coal operators saying carts weighed less than they actually did, and it meant that it was perfectly possible for someone to work all week, and between the cost of tools, equipment, housing, and all the other fees deducted from his pay, receive no real pay at all. Here it's difficult to draw the line between capitalism and dept peonage or serfdom. (Company towns existed well into the 1970s, btw. I see a lot of well-meaning, half-informed people who seem to think they only existed up till the first half of the 20th century.)

[forestdeath1]

Canon Sirius through quotes

Part 4. How Sirius shows care towards people and animals.

Sirius has a trait that often seems like irresponsibility or excessive harshness.

Sirius really respects another person's free will and choice and even treats teenagers as adults with their own minds. It's a deeply rooted idea of respecting others as agents of free will.

That's why he has no pity for those who make mistakes, including himself. To him, any mistake is always a person's free choice. Sirius will never forgive Peter because, regardless of Peter's circumstances for betrayal, it ultimately was a CHOICE. He even refuses to forgive the Ministry (as if the Ministry cares, oh Sirius):

‘Don’t worry about Percy,’ said Sirius abruptly. ‘He’ll come round. It’s only a matter of time before Voldemort moves into the open; once he does, the whole Ministry’s going to be begging us to forgive them. And I’m not sure I’ll be accepting their apology,’ he added bitterly.

He tells this to Molly after she encounters a boggart. Contrary to popular belief, in this scene, he doesn't really comfort her after their argument. Lupin does most of the work. Sirius just adds this phrase. He's still angry at Molly for what she said, just acting more maturely and not escalating the conflict further. He's angry because he understands Molly said exactly what she meant. Molly is also angry at him, they generally love to get angry at each other because they don't really understand each other.

They were both speaking in carefully light, polite voices that told Harry quite plainly that neither had forgotten their disagreement of the night before.

He even considers Kreacher an agent of free will. 

‘You’d be surprised what Kreacher can manage when he wants to, Hermione,’ said Sirius.

As they say - where there's a will, there's a way. When people say that Kreacher was lower in the hierarchy than Sirius (as any house-elf would be), Sirius himself did not see it that way, and it’s truly paradoxical. He argued with Kreacher, kicked him, engaged in verbal battles, though he could have just given direct orders. Kreacher's insults towards Sirius were similar in style to Walburga's  (otherwise, where would Kreacher learn those insults?), and Sirius... Sirius, instead of direct orders, just yells back or kicks him. When Harry gives Kreacher a direct order to shut up, Kreacher obeys instantly. A house-elf must obey the direct orders of their master. But Sirius doesn't give direct orders. Because for him, Kreacher is also an agent of free will (and also some ‘‘member‘‘ of his beloved and hated family, as Sirius is much more attached to the Blacks than he would like to admit).

Because of his attitude towards equals, Sirius fights for Harry to get the information he needs. For Sirius, Harry is an adult, not a five-year-old child who needs to be looked after in the style of Molly. Molly deprives Harry of his agency, his choice, and his own opinion with her overprotection. We have to understand Molly; she really worries for all of them, as half her family is in the Order and can die. She doesn't want to lose Harry, so she tries to protect him in every way. Plus, they all have orders from Dumbledore. Isn't Molly right? Molly has her point, she works for the Order and thinks Sirius could harm with his too "independent" behaviour, and teach Harry this excessive independence. And what does independence from Dumbledore lead to? Molly knows well (and so does Sirius) – last time such "independence" from Dumbledore cost the Potters their lives. I don't want to judge Molly. She's a member of the newer incarnation of the Order of the Phoenix, and a good one at that. Sirius, however, is still mentally in the era of the Order's original incarnation (as is Lupin, though he is more conforming and softer), a time when the rules of engagement were harsher, with much more focus on the grim realities of war. The newer version of the Order operates with different tactics – emphasizing manipulation, cunning, and caution.

Molly and Sirius have different approaches. Molly is about caution. Sirius is about action.

Sirius treats Harry as a subject, not an object to be shielded from information.

Sirius knows where his area of responsibility is and what he can influence, and where he should not interfere:

‘Not just yet, Molly,’ said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. ‘You know, I’m surprised at you. I thought the first thing you’d do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort.’

‘I did!’ said Harry indignantly. ‘I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we’re not allowed in the Order, so –’

‘And they’re quite right,’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘You’re too young.’

‘Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?’ asked Sirius. ‘Harry’s been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He’s got the right to know what’s been happen—’

‘How come Harry gets his questions answered?’ said Fred angrily. ‘We’ve been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven’t told us a single stinking thing!’ said George.

‘It’s not my fault you haven’t been told what the Order’s doing,’ said Sirius calmly, ‘that’s your parents’ decision. Harry, on the other hand –’

He doesn't tell the twins anything because it's not his responsibility. But Harry – that's his responsibility. And Sirius believes it's up to him to decide what Harry is allowed to know and what not (considering Dumbledore's instructions "I don’t intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly").

‘He’s not your son,’ said Sirius quietly.

‘He’s as good as,’ said Mrs Weasley fiercely. ‘Who else has he got?’

‘He’s got me!’

In the situation with Molly, you see two opposing views clash. Molly, with the archetype of a guardian, wants to shelter everyone with her care. Sirius, with the archetype of a rebel, respects Harry's wishes and wants to open up new knowledge and opportunities for him to fight.

‘He’s not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘He’s only fifteen and –’

‘And he’s dealt with as much as most in the Order,’ said Sirius, ‘and more than some.’

‘No one’s denying what he’s done!’ said Mrs Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. ‘But he’s still –’

‘He’s not a child!’ said Sirius impatiently.

Sirius probably stopped considering himself a child very early on. Maybe it came from his conservative family, where children were expected to grow up earlier, not walk around as "little children" until they were 18. They think about marriage, duty to the family, responsibility early on. Plus, wizards come of age earlier – at 17. So, for Sirius, 15 years old is not a child anymore.

That's why Sirius defends Harry's right "to know".

‘Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?’ asked Sirius. ‘Harry’s been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He’s got the right to know what’s been happen—’

-

‘But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back’ (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name) ‘he has more right than most to –’

Sirius really encourages taking action. His way of caring isn't about coddling. It's about giving knowledge, opportunities, resources, and supporting in the right direction. For Sirius, to live is to act; he can't be without action, doesn't understand life without it:

‘Personally, I’d have welcomed a Dementor attack. A deadly struggle for my soul would have broken the monotony nicely. You think you’ve had it bad, at least you’ve been able to get out and about, stretch your legs, get into a few fights ... I’ve been stuck inside for a month.’

Sirius can't not act and he doesn't understand how you could do otherwise. He knows Harry is the same because Harry is like his dad, meaning James was the same – always acting.

And he encourages this in Harry. But he always teaches to act with thought, not just charging in. In the 4th book, Sirius was telling Harry not to stick his neck out, but in the 5th, it's the opposite. Sirius has his own logic, which he shows here:

‘So, you want me to say I’m not going to take part in the Defence group?’ he muttered finally.

‘Me? Certainly not!’ said Sirius, looking surprised. ‘I think it’s an excellent idea!’

‘You do?’ said Harry, his heart lifting.

‘Of course I do!’ said Sirius. ‘D’you think your father and I would’ve lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?’

‘But – last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks –’

‘Last year, all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!’ said Sirius impatiently. ‘This year, we know there’s someone outside Hogwarts who’d like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!’

‘And if we do get expelled?’ Hermione asked, a quizzical look on her face.

‘Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue,’ said Sirius.

That's Sirius through and through. A true Gryffindor, who won't just sit around when there's danger afoot. You might argue that he shouldn't have encouraged Harry in this way. But what else was he to do? Hand Harry over to Umbridge? Of course not. He trusts Harry, believes in his potential. He treats Harry as an equal, not as a child, and that's why Harry feels so connected to Sirius – at last, someone sees him as mature enough, respects him as a free person. Throughout the series, Harry has been shielded from the truth, kept in the dark, yet Sirius shows him a different kind of respect – he sees Harry as someone who can act, in whom he places his trust and belief. Is Sirius right? When it comes to Harry – absolutely. As for the war, the Order, and following Dumbledore's orders – Molly would definitely disapprove.

He even passes Molly's words on to Ron. In his sarcastic manner, but still:

… anyway ... first of all, Ron – I’ve sworn to pass on a message from your mother.’

‘Oh yeah?’ said Ron, sounding apprehensive.

‘She says on no account whatsoever are you to take part in an illegal secret Defence Against the Dark Arts group. She says you’ll be expelled for sure and your future will be ruined. She says there will be plenty of time to learn how to defend yourself later and that you are too young to be worrying about that right now. She also’ (Sirius’s eyes turned to the other two) ‘advises Harry and Hermione not to proceed with the group, though she accepts that she has no authority over either of them and simply begs them to remember that she has their best interests at heart. She would have written all this to you, but if the owl had been intercepted you’d all have been in real trouble, and she can’t say it for herself because she’s on duty tonight.’

Again – a striking difference between what Molly understands by care and what Sirius understands by it.

Sirius lets Harry feel that he's believed in, respected, that his actions are encouraged. Sometimes Sirius criticises them, because as much as he encourages action, he believes all actions should be reasoned. Act according to logic, not thoughtlessly.

For instance, Sirius sternly reprimands him in the 4th book when Harry, in his opinion, does something foolish. And notice his communication style. Sirius is often blunt in conversation, in his way of talking, he doesn't sugarcoat. And Harry's okay with that. Sirius isn't one for mushiness.

Harry – what do you think you are playing at, walking off into the Forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that you are not going to go walking with anyone else at night. There is somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Crouch seeing Dumbledore and you were probably feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed.

Your name didn’t get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. If someone’s trying to attack you, they’re on their last chance. Stay close to Ron and Hermione, do not leave Gryffindor Tower after hours, and arm yourself for the third task. Practise Stunning and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn’t go amiss either. There’s nothing you can do about Crouch. Keep your head down and look after yourself. I’m waiting for your letter giving me your word you won’t stray out of bounds again.

That's what care means to Sirius. Not forbidding him from knowing information. But actively helping him so Harry is ready to stand up to challenges.

Or like this:

‘Now, listen ...’ he looked particularly hard at Harry – ‘I don’t want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you’re not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission, it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you.’

‘No one’s tried to attack me so far, except a dragon and a couple of Grindylows,’ Harry said.

But Sirius scowled at him. ‘I don’t care ... I’ll breathe freely again when this Tournament’s over, and that’s not until June. And don’t forget, if you’re talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, OK?’

At the same time, he provides Harry with emotional support. Just without the mushiness. There's a sort of rough tenderness about it, making these signs of attention and love seem even more important and pleasant.

‘What’re you doing here, Sirius?’ he said.

‘Fulfilling my duty as godfather,’ said Sirius, gnawing on the chicken bone in a very dog-like way. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’m pretending to be a loveable stray.’

-

The post owls appeared, bringing Harry a good-luck card from Sirius. It was only a piece of parchment, folded over and bearing a muddy paw print on its front, but Harry appreciated it all the same.

He also provides Harry with real resources that can help him:

‘I want you to take this,’ he said quietly, thrusting a badly wrapped package roughly the size of a paperback book into Harry’s hands.

‘What is it?’ Harry asked.

‘A way of letting me know if Snape’s giving you a hard time. No, don’t open it in here!’ said Sirius, with a wary look at Mrs Weasley, who was trying to persuade the twins to wear hand-knitted mittens. ‘I doubt Molly would approve – but I want you to use it if you need me, all right?’

-

‘Sirius’s knife,’ he said. ‘Excuse me?’ ‘Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that’ll open any lock,’ said Harry. ‘So even if she’s bewitched the door so Alohomora won’t work, which I bet she has –’

Sirius isn't inclined to pity. He respects the choices of others. His care is expressed in this – he knows people's strengths and trusts them to do their job. He thinks Hagrid will be okay because Hagrid is tough. Why worry?

‘Listen, don’t go asking too many questions about Hagrid,’ said Sirius hastily, ‘it’ll just draw even more attention to the fact that he’s not back and I know Dumbledore doesn’t want that. Hagrid’s tough, he’ll be OK.’

And he respects the choice of the twins' father, though many find Sirius's words harsh:

‘We don’t care about the dumb Order!’ shouted Fred.

‘It’s our dad dying we’re talking about!’ yelled George.

‘Your father knew what he was getting into and he won’t thank you for messing things up for the Order!’ said Sirius, equally angry. ‘This is how it is – this is why you’re not in the Order – you don’t understand – there are things worth dying for!’

But it's not cruelty or indifference, it's respect for their father's choice, as an agent of free will.

Sirius even treats animals this way. Look how he got on with the cat. And yet he understands that animals are defenceless and need support. He doesn't expect danger from them and often finds comfort in their company.

‘This cat isn’t mad,’ said Black hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks’s fluffy head. ‘He’s the most intelligent of his kind I’ve ever met. He recognised Peter for what he was straight away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me. Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he’s been helping me ...’

-

Kreacher injured Buckbeak the Hippogriff yesterday, and, at the moment when you made your appearance in the fire, Sirius was upstairs tending to him.’

-

Crookshanks, Hermione’s bandy-legged ginger cat, who wound himself once around Harry’s legs, purring, then jumped on to Sirius’s lap and curled up. Sirius scratched him absent-mindedly behind the ears as he turned, still grim-faced, to Harry.

-

Sirius, who had just entered the room carrying a bloodstained bag of what appeared to be dead rats. ‘I’ve just been feeding Buckbeak,’ he added, in reply to Harry’s enquiring look. ‘I keep him upstairs in my mother’s bedroom

-

Soon, however, he was moodier and surlier than before, talking less to everybody, even Harry, and spending increasing amounts of time shut up in his mother’s room with Buckbeak.

-

He became more and more prone to what Mrs Weasley called ‘fits of the sullens’, in which he would become taciturn and grumpy, often withdrawing to Buckbeak’s room for hours at a time.

Sirius befriended the cat, treated it as an intelligent being, and constantly cared for the hippogriff. Sirius is very closed off from people (after Azkaban, he only opens up to Harry and Remus), he builds a tough armour, but easily opens up to animals and easily cares for them in a nurturing manner – and they love him back.

In conclusion, Sirius respects the free choice of others. For him, pity towards another is demeaning. Sirius hates pity – neither for himself nor for others. To pity = to demean, to pity means to acknowledge the other as incapable and weak. And Sirius doesn't meddle in others' relationships, he well separates his zone of responsibility, and care for him is to give resources and information so the person can act. And he's good with animals, and to animals, he can show a different attitude – nurturing, because acknowledging animals as weaker doesn't demean them, because animals truly are weaker.

This character trait of Sirius isn't for moral judgement, just that's how he is, and it's important to understand that.

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter 20.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 6k Summary: flashback ten - also known as the final mission Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - graphic violence, minor character deaths, titan deaths, bloodshed, graphic depictions of injury, despair, peril

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CHAPTER 20 - FLASHBACK: TEN

Eighty to forty.

Slashed in half.

On paper, the tactical statistics sound nothing short of a miracle.

In a division plagued by endless casualties, any hope of saving lives rather than destroying them should (and will) sanction blind approval from higher command.

For the commandant, for the king, for the people behind those Walls relying on this team to succeed in breaching the forest to pursue the mission of the Scout Regiment, it’s the best idea curated to date—

And it’s all thanks to Commander Erwin and his right-hand man, Captain Levi.

Levi Ackerman insists he can take on any Abnormal single-handedly.

Commander Erwin insists his Special Operations squad can and will find a way through the thick of it, once and for all.

A triumphant success for humanity, no matter the cost.

— but that was on paper.

When you wake, Levi isn’t beside you in your bed.

His disappearing act in the morning isn’t unusual nor is it disappointing.

By now you're used to waking up without him, though you only find yourself sleeping thanks to him.

(He's admitted that, if he doesn't slip out earlier than when you wake, then he may never leave.) 

Although your relationship is the worst kept secret within the Special Ops squad, it’s still just that:

A secret.

What is not a secret, however, is the trajectory of what’s to come.

Not every day in the regiment is a nightmare, but this is the type of day the average cadet dreads when they pledge their allegiance to the Survey Corps.

So you ready for the day with noticeable weight on your shoulders.

A determination to see this through.

A promise to show up for your fellow man.

(An oath to Levi that the two of you will make it out of this alive and see another sunrise.)

Today will be brutal, but you can prevail.

Stepping out of your quarters in full Scout gear, you hear the whinnies and whines of nearing horses as they gallop toward headquarters.

You fix the collar of your cropped tan jacket in time with your footsteps descending down the stairwell, mind elsewhere.

Bodies hurry in and out of the open front door. Gear clinks. Blades sheath.

“Lieutenant James!”

That voice belongs to no soul you know.

You stop dead in your tracks right in front of the open double doors. Turning to the sunlight, you raise a hand to shield the rays to locate who may have spoken your name.

Before you stands an entirely new group of Scouts that you’ve never seen before. Fresh-faced and determined, if not a little terrified — there is a large array of them standing around in a semicircle at the mouth of headquarters.

All adorn the Wings of Freedom.

All press their fist backwards to their heart, denting the emblem.

You realize some of their faces look familiar.

Albeit it was a brief stint as a cadet in the training corps, recognition flutters over your face as you spy some of the hopefuls that slept not so far from your bunk in the barracks.

It's been years. What were once youthful faces now age well before their time.

“Lieutenant, sir!”

The one in the center, a short-haired woman with glasses, barks once more.

“We’re pleased to make your acquaintance and to serve under the command of Humanity’s Strongest.”

At first you say nothing, dazed at the sheer number of this squad. 

Seven people hold steadily onto seven individual horses, their shoulders shrouded by emerald green cloaks. Some keep their hoods adorned to the crowns of their heads. Others bare their nervous but brave faces to you.

“At ease,” you murmur, and they lower their fists. “I wasn’t aware another squad was joining us this morning.”

“Miro Squad, sir, at your service,” the short-haired person greets, bowing. “I received Commander Erwin’s urgent letter for additional soldiers in the pursuit of breaching the forest.”

They take a half-step back and gestures to their team, pointing out every soul on their squad.

Miro, their leader; Trina, their second-in-command with wild fiery hair; and Scouts Orin, Max, Penelope, Cesca, and Rini.

Seven additional Scouts.

Fourteen Scouts in full for this Hail Mary of a mission.

Then it hits:

Proposing half of the original projected damage was bold, even for someone as shameless as Commander Erwin.

He had no qualms with setting this mission up with the new layout provided by Levi, ensuring as much of an air-tight plan as possible.

Eighty to forty percent is nothing short of a miracle.

But miracles do not exist in the Scouts.

Your stomach drops into the dirt with the sickening realization of what Commander Erwin’s grandiose solution really meant.

Miro Squad is the forty percent reduction.

A cruel and inhumane buffer of surefire casualties in order to keep the Special Ops squad intact during the breach.

You’re staring at a group of devoured bodies before you even reach the trees.

“It’s…”

You struggle with your words before slamming your backward fist to your heart, raising your chin.

Some of the younger Scouts stare in awe at your blatant display of honor.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Miro Squad.” 

You bow, though you feel dirty for doing so.

“I trust Commander Erwin made you aware of today’s efforts?”

Miro nods. “We intend to serve however we can.”

They don’t know.

They need to know.

They need to make an informed decision before—

“Lieutenant,” a deep voice sounds behind you, and your skin crawls.

Turning your chin, you stare eye to eye with the blue-eyed man boring down on you.

Commander Erwin appears somber.

Stoic.

“Yes, Commander?”

The question is small, but it drips with a knowing venom.

Erwin is not fazed. “Captain Levi is tending to the horses at the stables. Can you aid him in preparation before departure?”

To you, you conjure what appears to be a clear answer woven between the lines:

Do not interfere. Do not disobey.

You hold rank to an extent in the Scouts, but what the Commander says, goes.

Continuing to hold his icy blue stare, you try to convey the question you cannot say out loud.

(Do they know what is about to happen?)

Erwin continues to stare right back, not the least bit fazed by the conflict in your brow.

He is confident. He is headstrong.

An answer.

They're going to dedicate their hearts.

(Just like you, too, promised years ago.)

Without another word, you turn on a heel and beeline straight to the stables.

Anger.

Why do you feel so much anger?

Is it because the outcome feels bleak well before mission has started?

Are the odds truly this stacked against humanity?

When you reach the parted doors of the stables, he's there — Levi Ackerman stands in front of his black stallion, gliding a gentle hand down its muzzle.

He senses your presence well before you even say a word.

He turns easily to you, but his eyes sharpen a fraction when he picks up how pinched your shoulders are.

“James,” he greets neutrally, brow knitting. “What’s—”

“Miro Squad just showed up.”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb,” you snip, making your way to your own horse — she has a white coat with speckled gray spots all along her body.

She makes a small chortle noise when you near and you serve your flattened palm to her for a nuzzle.

(Behind the pen doors, you note she already has her gear in place. Levi must have already saddled her up for you while you were getting ready.)

The dark-haired man to your left sighs in a huff. 

“Not playing dumb, James. I was genuinely asking.”

“It’s the squad Erwin’s setting up for slaughter,” you decide to elaborate hotly.

A pause passes.

You don't turn to see Levi's expression, but you can sense how tense the space between the two of you has become.

“If it’s Miro Squad he called to action, then they’ve fared well in comparison to the other squadrons," he argues with little fire. "Did he personally request them?"

"Allegedly."

"Allegedly?" Levi repeats, sharper in tone. "Either he did or he didn't."

"According to Miro, yes, he sent an urgent letter requesting aid."

Finally you turn a cheek towards him, forcing your eyes to meet.

You know that look he gives you sidelong. 

Don’t start.

(Neither of you need to fight again, not before this mission.)

"Then Erwin didn't pick a random crop of Scouts to shit the bed and die on us," Levi reasons, softer. Conspiratorial. "I know you think he’s a bastard, but—”

“Worst case scenario,” you interrupt, “at least his Special Ops team won’t die?”

“If my strategy goes well, then no one dies." He counters with the certainty that’s entirely Levi. “You forget my name is on the damn ledger, too, unless this is you trying to tell me something.”

White-hot embarrassment courses your veins as your childhood friend waits for you to challenge his statement — to call him an equal-part premeditated murderer sat right beside the commander.

You can’t.

You won’t.

Instead you cool off by slowly petting your horse, willing your bad feeling to wither away.

After a moment, Levi wills his voice to soften again. “We need as many Scouts as we can—”

“I know.”

“—and even then, if we all kick the bucket, it's on me."

Levi finishes with a heavy sigh. He turns away, dropping his chin to his chest.

“I'll take whatever punishment fits the crime if it goes to shit."

A beat passes.

Blinking several times, you turn your body to him and drop the attitude.

“...and I'll do everything in my power to make sure we stay alive," you whisper softly. "That everyone comes home."

Levi’s head hangs, cascading his wispy black hair as a curtain over his face.

“That's not supposed to be your burden."

"Where you go, I go, remember?" you tell him. "For better or worse, I don't care."

"Wanna workshop vows, huh?" he mumbles. "Right now?"

This seems to ease the air about the stables.

Centimeter by centimeter, twin pairs of shoulders release in their tension.

You can't help but smile, even if the moment is tense.

"I think the Commander would find the dramatics funny."

"Oh, sure, proposing to your ass right before the single-biggest mission in Scout history would really tickle his funny bone," he sarcastically replies.

"It'd sure tickle Hange's."

"Hange doesn't need more ammunition, not after catching our asses that one time—"

"That one time that was your fault, you mean?" You grin as he glares. Still, his scowl is playful. "Loud Mouth Ackerman—"

"Shut up, Lieutenant."

Levi lets go of his horse and raises his hand, palm outstretched.

“Get the hell over here before anyone catches us a second time, alright?”

Albeit small, he smiles.

It's forced, like he wants to remember this — to focus on this.

The final moments before the point of no return.

Like a moth to a flame, you step away from your horse to step towards the short, dark-haired man.

Once you’re close enough, he pulls you in from the nape of your neck and drags your forehead to his, pressing them together.

His eyes squeeze shut.

You stare, memorizing his face.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “Don’t die.”

All the anger in your body melts away.

“I love you, too,” you reply just as softly. “I won’t—”

The stable door creaks.

You leap off of the captain to pretend like you’re picking up the bucket of water at his boots.

Levi stays put, dropping his arm like dead weight.

“Captain. Lieutenant.”

You don’t need to see the face to know it’s Erwin’s voice echoing through the stables.

“It’s time to move out.”

You both reply in unison, two different octaves.

“Yes, sir.”

.

.

.

.

.

The formation is simple:

Captain Levi leads the charge into the forbidden forest with Lieutenant James at his side.

Behind them in a diamond formation are the Special Operation Scouts Petra, Oluo, Gunther, and Eld.

Command Erwin, Section Commander Hange, and Moblit remain at headquarters for the recon and debrief.

At the rear of the formation are Miro Squad to specifically call out nearing and flanking titans that the first squad may miss.

They shadow the Special Operations unit as back-ups, no matter the cost.

And at first? It's easy.

Deceiving easy.

The mouth of the forest gives little trouble.

Both squadrons of Scouts breach the thick grove of towering trees without incident.

Thirty minutes into this mission, in the belly of this beast, not a single Abnormal has been spotted.

There aren't any typical titans, either.

It’s quiet.

Serene.

“Alright, listen up!”

With his hands tightly wound around leather reigns, Captain Levi finally calls to the Scouts behind him.

“Keep your eyes peeled. Abnormals do not move like other titans. These shitheads can be fast and appear at a moment’s notice.”

“Right!” Several of the Miro squad shouts back.

The Special Operations squad is too focused to reply.

Whenever you glance over at Levi, he’s smooth as stone. 

He refuses to allow any emotion cloud his judgment on a mission, and you can imagine it won’t be any different this go-around.

Because this mission cannot fail.

The Scouts must push forward, no matter the cost.

(Even if the irrevocable cost makes you sick to your stomach.)

The sun shines bright over a canopy of trees.

Your cloak is too warm in this type of weather.

As you push further into the thick of the terrain, nearing what is assumed to be the halfway point of the forest, birds chirp less and less.

Eerie silence overtakes the pounding of hooves into the dirt.

Then, as fast as an inhale, you see it:

Directly ahead trudges a nine-meter titan, peering around a thick tree trunk.

"Captain!" Gunther shouts. "Ahead at our twelve!"

"I see the piece of shit," Levi calls back. "We keep moving. I'll take care of it."

You don't doubt that he will.

As it continues to slowly advance on your formation, you can tell the team is a little more tense.

Ready — 

Except no one was prepared, not really.

The titan ahead is an army of one, but it is not the only titan here.

It was just the only one right in front of you.

Behind you sounds a scream so bloodcurdling that you nearly lock up on your horse.

You turn despite yourself.

Within seconds, you see Max get ripped clear off of his horse with the sheer force of otherworldly strength.

(...a hand?)

Then, a gust of wind sweeps and swirls the dirt into a lackluster tornado.

His horse narrowly escapes.

It rolls over and over, kicking up a thick dust cloud.

Max speeds through the air at breakneck speed like a human arrow —

Until he abruptly crashes into a thick tree trunk, dislocating his spine from his head.

The crunch is like ripping a stalk of ripe lettuce in half.

He simply crumples against the tree, limbs peacefully blowing in the wind like a leaf.

His Scout cloak billows over his shocked face, forever frozen in belated surprise.

Gone.

Just like that.

Then from the shadows, as if waiting for its prey, a five-meter titan stumbles around a tree to chomp on the recently deceased body.

It gnaws off his legs as they dangle in the air, spattering blood all over the forest floor.

Your horse gallops on.

You can't look away.

Then someone screams, forcing your eyes to rip away from the horror.

“Cesca!” A blonde girl shrieks to the right of the formation — Penelope, you think her name is. “Don’t!”

“It's devouring him!” Cesca wails at the top of her lungs. “We have to go back for him!”

“He’s already dead!” Trina calls with experienced calm. “There's no use, soldiers! Keep your eyes forward. We keep moving!”

“James—”

Your head turns when Levi calls to you.

Wide eyes meet a narrowed gaze.

“—that means you, too.”

Your eyes round with the realization that everything is happening so fast yet moving in slow motion.

What was that thing?

Was that a... ?

You were so busy watching Max get eaten that you didn’t realize three more titans appeared on the northeast corner, awakened by the screams of Miro Squad.

Shit.

This isn’t good.

This is not good.

“Levi,” you begin slowly, but he shakes his head.

"Don't hesitate. We push forward no matter what."

He's right.

Max is dead.

You just have to hope the rest of Miro squad keeps their wits about them.

You turn your head to make eye contact with Miro.

“Faster!”

“Roger, Lieutenant,” Miro tells you before shouting to their team. “Keep going, Scouts! We should be halfway through the clearing.”

“Miro,” Trina alerts them sharply, "three more titans are crowding from the right."

“Shit, what does that make it now? Seven of them!?” Miro hisses.

(Seven?)

Your eyes connect with Petra who appears equal parts shocked at just how quickly this mission has dissolved.

“I— there's a whole bunch of them in the back!”

Penelope calls frantically, staring behind her.

"They're surrounding us!"

Three to the east.

Another three to the northwest.

A couple to the south, and another...

Something entirely unlike anything you'd ever seen before.

“Captain, we’re going to need to ditch the horses,” you tell Levi in a hushed voice.

“Not yet,” he replies, smooth and certain.

“Not yet?" you repeat. "Levi, we have an entire army of goddamn titans on our—”

“I said not yet,” he coolly bites. “I’ll handle them.”

You know he will.

You just don’t want him to go up against them on his own.

Suddenly someone from the right side of the formation ignites their ODM gear, and they swoop overhead.

Blonde hair whooshes straight by the team and into the forest thick.

Penelope is the first to pull the trigger.

“I’m gonna get ahead of the curve and attack!” she calls, zipping through the trees towards some of the smaller titans.

Levi says nothing, but Miro shouts to their own squad: 

“That wasn’t the plan! Damn it, Penelope!”

Her body rounds one of the tree trunks and heads right, disappearing.

Say something.

Say anything.

If that thing that killed Max is how an Abnormal moves, then Penelope doesn't stand a chance on her own.

You speak to him again. "Captain—”

“Not yet, James.”

“Penelope is going to get killed!” you argue, your grip on the reigns tightening.

“That’s the choice she made,” Captain Levi argues in return, sounding a little too much like Commander Erwin in the moment. “Remain steady and wait for my signal.”

Twigs fold and crackle under new weight to your right.

Then a thud shakes the straight through the horses and into you.

Penelope must have taken down at least one normal titan.

“Captain!”

Miro shouts in the middle of the squad.

“Should we engage? My squad can take care of the titans and carve a path forward!”

There is a tense, pregnant pause.

Everyone waits for Levi's instruction.

Two smaller titans walk directly towards the horses.

The dark-haired man's nostrils flare with decision.

“I’m going to take down the two ahead,” Levi shouts, effortlessly swinging a boot to the saddle of his horse.

With the muscles of his thigh he pushes until both boots are surfing against his running horse.

His black hair blows wildly in the wind. Like a well-oiled machine, he pushes back his cloaks to reveal his ODM gear, readying for deployment.

"Miro, take your squad and eliminate the enemies flanking us. You can come back to us once you're finished."

“What about the rest of us, sir?” calls Oluo.

Levi’s eyes narrow at the enemies ahead.

“My squad will keep the horses going. We need to make it to the end of this forest, for humanity's sake."

"And Captain, what about Penelope?" you quickly ask.

"She's a lost cause, Lieutenant."

He speaks with that coldness he's been forced to adopt ever since your days in the Underground.

"We can't go back for her."

You turn to watch as Miro squad disengages formation and turns around, charging bravely towards the crowd of titans forming behind.

An array of shapes and sizes await their swords.

(Or their flesh.)

Any minute now and it could be a bloodbath.

Any minute—

Levi flies off of his horse, trapezing through the trees.

A gas trail from how hard his gear is working is your only indicator for where he is at such a height.

He twirls with the shine of his unsheathed swords, slashing the napes of the two large titans ahead.

A victory.

Except it's a short-lived victory, because you hear it behind you— 

Miro squad.

They're in trouble.

Even from this distances you hear Cesca, Rini, and Orin scream and panic.

Scouts fly between tree branches with smoke trailing behind. ODM gear ignites and retracts without any real clear sense of direction.

They're drowning back there.

You see the silhouette of someone falling to the forest floor.

"One of us needs to help them," you tell Eld, and he shakes his head sharply.

"You heard Captain Levi."

"They're two fucking Scouts down, Eld!" you snap at your comrade. "We'll lose seven whole people!"

"We can't go against captain's orders, Lieutenant!" Petra calls to you, and Oluo nods beside her.

Scanning your squad still soldiering ahead with the plan, you feel something grip your heart.

Yet another gut-wrenching shriek sounds from the forest.

Maybe it's Penelope.

Maybe it's Cesca.

The voices reverberate and echo through the forest that it's hard to tell.

You don't even realize that you're moving your hands over your cloak to push it out of the way.

Eighty to forty.

"The hell are you doing!?"

The clipped tone of Levi Ackerman as he drops back onto his stallion rips you back into focus.

His knee drops to the saddle, facing his soldiers rather than what's ahead.

Your eyes meet narrowed gray.

"I can help," you tell him calmly. "They're going to die."

"Stay."

"They're going to die, Le—"

"Stay, Lieutenant." Levi's nostril's flare. "That's an order."

Miro squad's screams continue to haunt your subconscious.

You promised.

You said you'd stay by his side.

But isn't this what the Scout Regiment is for?

To save humanity, to give them hope.

It used to be something you felt was such a crock of shit, but you can't ignore the screams back there.

You can't let them die.

"I'm going to help them," you tell him without a tremor. "You know I can do it."

Levi's eyes flash with an indiscernible emotion.

"We'll all come back in one piece. I'll guide them to the horses."

"No."

"And we'll make it to the end of this fucking forest."

You stare back at him, pleading a forgiveness you haven't asked for yet.

(You saved me once. Let me save them.)

"If you go," he growls, "James, if you go, I'll—"

"I'll take whatever punishment fits my crime," you cut him off, "but I can't let them all die."

His pupils shrink, sharpening the whites of his eyes.

The wheeze of ODM gear bursts into life as it lifts you off of your saddle and into the forest sky.

Without thinking, you twist at the hip and take off—

You head south towards the screaming squad as they fight to break free from the titan hoard holding them hostage.

Wind freezes your cheeks.

The outlines of their bodies grow more pronounced the closer you become.

Soon you see five Scouts flying around, swinging their swords to destroy the last remaining titan.

Below are a cluster of smaller dead ones decaying by the second.

Trina, Miro's second-in-command, screams at the top of her lungs as she reaches out to her comrades.

"Help! Please, I don't want to be eaten! Please!"

She's stuck in the clutches of a ten-meter titan, slowly bringing her closer and closer to its open mouth.

They’re everywhere.

(How did everything go so wrong so fast?)

You don't think about dying. You don't worry about how upset Levi will be when you return. You don't stop to second guess your actions. 

You don’t.

You just do.

Yelling at the top of your lungs, you rip both blades from their metallic sheaths at your hips.

Spinning from the momentum of your swing, you slice straight through the wrist of the titan holding Trina hostage.

She falls with enough smarts to break her fall with her own gear.

“James!” Trina cries out with equal parts despair and relief. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure you were all okay," you tell them, shaking your head. "I guess you didn't really need back-up. We still have your horses..."

But you trail off, confused.

They should be relieved.

They killed every last titan back here.

Yet the Miro squad cling to the trees, skin as translucent as ghosts.

"Something big ate Penelope!" Cesca sobs, swinging her sword frantically to keep invisible outstretched fingers at bay. Her eyes are a window to nothing. As if she's curled into herself as she screams to you. "You need to—"

You're about to ask what the hell she's talking about.

But then you see it:

Climbing.

No, crawling through the trees, running like a rabid dog through the branches to eye up its prey.

A titan.

In comparison to other titans, it's practically a sun spot.

And it's so fast.

Eleven meters tall. Maybe thirteen.

You can't tell when its crouched like that.

Deformed.

Curled in on itself.

Then it halts when it sees you, blocking you from the rest of Miro squad.

A chill runs up your spine.

You stop to balance against the side of a tree trunk, staring face-to-face with your first Abnormal.

Its grin is something straight out a nightmare.

Its eyes track you, as if it...

As if it hopes you’ll flinch and begin the chase.

Shit.

You can't get around it.

You're stuck here — but the other five aren't.

“Trina, Miro, find Captain Levi,” you force yourself to speak, unable to look away from the Abnormal. “Take your squad north. Tell them you found an Abnormal."

“But—”

“I said go north, damn it,” you growl, clenching your teeth.

"What about you?" Miro asks.

“I'll be right behind you," you promise, though you damn well know you can't run straight through with your gear.

Why isn’t this titan attacking you?

Is it just waiting for you to run first?

Dedicate your heart.

No — this thing isn't going to kill you.

Max is dead. Penelope is dead.

But you came just in time to save five others.

You can save them, yourself, and this mission.

No, you won't die.

Not today.

“Go!”

Shouting at the top of your lungs, the Abnormal finally dives to attack you. 

Only when you swing past it do you realize it was waiting — not for you, no, but for an eight-meter and ten-meter with blood all over its mouth to catch up.

Not one, but three Abnormals.

Shit.

Miro and Trina gather Orin, Cesca, and Rini.

All five swing through the trees back towards where you just came from.

In the meantime, you exhaust your efforts through intense ODM defensive maneuvers to avoid getting caught in the clutches — or teeth — of the three titans.

They chase after you, using the trees to their advantage.

It's no use.

You can't outrun all three.

So you'll have to fight these assholes to find a way out.

Turning abruptly, you side-step the lurching ten-meter reaching out towards you.

With a battle cry from the gut, you scream and slice straight through the nape of its neck. 

Steam emits as it gurgles and stumbles, effectively dying on the forest floor.

One down.

Three to go.

You set your sights on the smaller titan first, gliding and sliding through the trees.

(The eleven-meter titan will be your greatest problem. You choose to make it your final priority.)

When you flip in the air, crown pointed to the ground and feet in the air, you can no longer see the bodies of Miro squad.

Only a faint trail of their gas fumes linger.

It’s just you, and the things that want to kill you.

But you won't die today.

No, you are not dying in this fucking forest.

Because you promised him.

Skating across a large tree trunk, you swan dive in the air and reattach your gear to opposite tree trunks, sights locked on the eight-meter titan.

The eight-meter monster stares directly at you, but you use its shoulder to lodge your spike directly into its flesh.

The momentum of the swing offers enough brutality to effectively rip into the nape of its neck, causing titan blood to splatter all over your body.

It stumbles, falling to the forest floor. You remain perched on its shoulder, sword extended.

Two down.

You can do this.

You can finish these titans off and meet up with the team before the mission is over.

It isn’t a lost cause.

Determined to see it through, you turn on the heel of your boot—

With a might crack of its arm, the eleven-meter knocks you clear off of the eight-meter’s shoulder and straight into the tree your gear is already attached to.

Your head hits.

The world turns into stars right before your eyes.

And before you can find yours wits and attack back—

Its fiery palm seizes your body from the tree trunk and squeezes.

The momentum nearly rips your spine in half when the Abnormal grabs you.

You gasp for air, knocked clear from your lungs.

Because you didn’t disengage your ODM line latched into the nearby tree, the sheer force of its grip on you bends your gear, forcing you to ragdoll between the points.

Shit.

The grapple of your gear won’t budge.

It won’t detract. 

The jerking movements between the manhandling of the Abnormal and your jammed gear create a perfect storm of injuries.

Pops and crunches trickle up your body, breaking bones upon bones upon bones—

You see white. 

The titan cannot get you loose from the tree, and you cannot get loose from it, so you act on pure instinct — with what little strength you have left, it stretches out and around to swipe your sword through the titans hand, narrowly missing your own chest.

One chance, and you took it.

Because not only did the sword cut through the titan, but it split the ODM line keeping you eleven meters in the air.

When you realize you can’t even breathe when the titan lets you go, you know what’s coming.

Weightless and numb of your own pain, you can feel the wind on your face, but your lungs refuse to expand.

They’re trapped from a cracked rib, and you’re out of time.

Something as bittersweet as foolish bravery crawls through your skin, burning it alive:

No one is coming.

You told Miro squad to run.

You defied orders.

—but you promised Levi you wouldn’t die.

(Is this the end of all things, right here?)

The screams and shouts echoing through your mind are not of Levi and Miro squad, no, but of your lost comrades — the ones who experienced the very same hopeless, fleeting feeling of fear right before they went.

You think of ash-blonde hair. Ginger locks.

Were Furlan and Isobel afraid?

When they couldn’t survive the Scouts, when they fought titans, did they look up at the sky just like you?

Did they know it was the end?

Were they worried they disappointed Levi?

Did they think of you, too, the way you're thinking about them?

Would they hate you for what you've done to Levi?

Four pairs of hopeful eyes walked up those Underground City stairs and into this world, yet only one will remain.

I promised.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

No screams.

No sobs.

You reach for the branches, watching the glittering sun through the canopy of trees, but you cannot touch them.

There is nothing you can do.

I’m sorry.

You continue to reach for the sky like you’ll catch on something without strength.

Your adrenaline-addled mind runs through so many memories—

The fighting rings of the Underground City;

The dream of leaving this place;

The feeling of the sun on bare skin;

Him.

Levi Ackerman.

Captain of the Scout Regiment. Humanity’s Strongest.

Your best friend.

The love of your life.

The boy who saved you, over and over, until—

“James!”

Suddenly your body reacts with a pained, strangled gasp.

The beauty of the sun disappears when a dark, oval silhouette overtakes it.

A brilliant shimmer of emerald billows around it.

It twirls and slashes the nape of the eleven-meters neck before pivoting south.

Towards you.

The silhouette nears at supernatural speeds, a trail of gas zipping in its wake—

It’s a man.

His gaze is overtaken by the whites of his eyes.

With how fast he’s descending from the tree tops, it’s a miracle he ducks and dodges every rogue branch.

His black hair is pinned to the sides of his head. The terror is written all over his face.

That face…

Levi.

You can’t speak, but you instinctively reach for his hand.

He grits his teeth, willing his body to fall faster. He breaks a barrier and soars closer to your orbit.

“Stay with me!” Levi shouts, voice determined and strong. “I’ll catch you!”

But you’ve been falling for what feels like hours, and he’s caught you so many times in the past.

When you struggled with ODM gear training, Levi would be the one to spot your fall. Every time, without failure.

But it wasn't his duty to catch you.

It wasn't his duty to come back for you.

He reaches out a hand, teeth clenched, but his fingertips just barely miss yours.

"Shit. C'mon, James, reach!"

He's getting desperate.

You've never seen him desperate.

The ground must be close.

Is it close?

(I’m sorry.)

You wish you could tell him. 

You wish you had the strength, the breath, to do so. 

(I'm sorry.)

You failed him.

You didn’t listen.

You should have listened.

With what little strength is left in your both, you roll your shoulder forward to send your hand towards his.

Your fingertips touch again, but he can’t quite grasp you. 

(But then so many others would have died. An entire squad of seven in a formation of fourteen instead of just three. Isn’t that what the Scouts are supposed to fight for, Levi? Isn’t that why we work so damn hard to achieve this dream for humanity?)

His breath hitches.

His eyes explode.

Because he knows what’s coming, too.

“James!”

A sorrowful breath that should be his name exits your mouth.

(Levi, I’m so sorry. I love—)

The back of your head slams into the ground.

A sickening thud.

A lost gasp of air.

The world goes black.

.

.

.

.

.

  Why did you do it?

Do what?

.

.

.

.

.

  “James!”

A baritone voice shouts your name.

It’s guttural, echoing with desperation. Fear.

.

.

.

.

.

  You gave me a second chance.

.

.

.

.

.

  The man dives through the trees at an otherworldly pace.

Arms pressed tight to his sides, he expertly zig-zags through an array of branches, propelling his body forward.

His emerald cloak billows from behind in an angelic halo.

As he nears, you can make out the whites of his widened eyes.

Instinctively, your hand reaches for him—

A certain sort of deja vu—

Then it hits.

.

.

.

.

.   Because where you go, I follow.

.

.

.

.

.

  Something heavy crashes straight into your body.

Two strong arms envelope you.

A palm cradles the back of your head.

Metallic gear wheezes, straining against its mechanics when your side hits solid ground.

Over and over, you spin at lightning speed.

Whatever holds you does not let go.

— then you collide with something solid, and everything just stops.

Silence.

Dirt kicks up around you in a cloud.

Twin hearts beat against each other.

Slowly you raise your hand to your shoulder—

Reaching— 

Until you find his hand.

Your shaking fingers curl over his.

.