#lucky is the person who manage to obtain both

[magical-regical]

Hey can someone tell me why the new after ending for Scarlet Rain is making me like the umbrella man?

Fr tho, his smile fading and then him just disappearing if you tell him to leave actually made me feel bad. It also made me realize he probably doesn't know how to show 'affection' other than getting really close into your personal space and asking for your name because people can't fucking touch him.

I know this is probably obvious, especially for long time Mr Scarletella fans out there but my two braincells finally generated enough electricity to comprehend just how perfectly it explains his behavior.

... I guess I'll cut it here. More yapping (so much yapping) under the moss if you want to hear me rambling about how silly umbrella man operates and silly umbrella man being soft.

You can tell how over the moon he is if you tell him you like/love him because of the wall of red text that covers your screen but then the screen turns red. Does that imply we died? No, I think he tried to teleport behind us but ran into us instead.

Is there evidence to back up that theory? No. But hear me out. We know hitting him with a crowbar doesn't work and that he can glitch in and out of different places. He pulls us in with his umbrella and the only other time we directly 'touch' is in the Scarletella ending where we pick up the white/transparent umbrella and that ending seems to imply we did end up getting our soul taken by the umbrella man.

My theory is he can only be touched if he's obtained someone's soul which is another reason why he's so desperate for our name. This is most likely something he had to figure out himself because it's not specified in the rumor abt him so therefore it's probably among the many things he forgot when we damaged his umbrella. Even if he did remember, there's no way for him to know it works the other way around as well.

So imagine his shock when he smacks into you.

Imagine what comes after that! Would you hold on to him to keep both of you from falling? Would you laugh at the dumbfounded look on his face? An error has occurred, please open and close your umbrella to reboot.

"You. Happy?" He'd ask.

Just smile and place a hand on his cheek. His eyes will (somehow) widen even more before closing as he leans into your touch and rubs his cheek against your palm. You can try to pull your hand away but he'd hold it in place, his grip almost too tight.

"Your. Hand. Me. Like."

Use your other hand to pull his head closer so that your foreheads are touching, eventually he'll end up fully resting his head on your shoulder. Take both of his hands and wrap them around yourself, teach him that this is called a 'hug' and it's something only people who like each other can do.

"Ha— Hua— Haug." he'll struggle to form the word but he'll get it eventually.

Usually the bodies he can touch are either dead or trying to run away or attack him even if they've given him their name (rude!). He's never had someone hold him so gently, he'll be at a loss as to how to return the gesture. So he just does what he always does and mutters. "Like. You." over and over again while almost squeezing the daylights out of you.

He'd stay like that forever if you let him. It's only when you tell him it's time to go home that he pries himself off of you. But please don't let go of his hand. He wants to hold it as the two of you walk home. He doesn't remember anything prior to you naming him but that doesn't matter. Not when your hand, so small yet so warm and soft, is holding his. Surely someone who touches him so gently couldn't be bad.

Even if you are, so what? He loves you. Bloody raincoat and all. He's decided. From the moment he laid eyes on you, you've captured his heart. He's yours and you're his. Forever and ever. Not even death can do you apart. Not if he has anything to say about it.

[aithusarosekiller]

I know that Dorcas doing on a mad killing spree to destroy voldy after Marlene dies is a popular headcanon and even though I usually don't subscribe to that one because in my head Dorcas doesn't need motivation, she's just like that- I think it would be really cool to imagine a world where she and James both meet up in the middle of their madness driven voldy-hunting and manage to take him down together. Because she had the will but not the means. So...I wrote a little something about James' perspective on the lead up to it where he obtains to means to do it (a horcrux)!

-

Specks of saltwater, a small scrap of paper, and a rusted old locket lay in the centre of James' kitchen table waiting to be inspected further by him, but he ignored them and paces up and down the room whispering urgently. He was lucky the boys weren't home or he would've looked mad. Luckily, the tears and yelling had passed a while ago and it was only the anger and confusion that remained.

Kreacher stood obediently at the foot of the table for him to calm down and give an order. Technically he didn't have any true ties to James Potter, but Regulus’ dying wish had been for him to go to James, so he assumed it was on his best interests to listen even if he despised the man and his traitorous family. Gently, James picked up the paper and contributed to walk back and forth while he straightened it out between his fingers.

I'm sorry. it read. Nothing else, just…I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

He swore under his breath and pressed it back down onto the table, flattening it out and continuing to stare at it.

“Why did he even-” With a sigh, James looked over to the house elf to his left. “Kreacher.” The elf looked up in expectation. “Why are you here?”

“Master Regulus ordered it.” He replied, voice steady and trained, if not with a pinch of distaste.

“Yes, I know, but why?” James hissed. “To torment me? To- I don't know, be remembered? What’s the fucking point? I know the story, I know he's dead, what more do you want?” Kreacher remained silent, blinking once.

Giving up, James looked back to the table and snatched up the dripping locket. He turned it over in his hand a few times before clicking his tongue and holding it up for Kreacher to see.

“I still don't get what this is. Why did you bring it to me, why was Regulus so willing to kill himself for it, and why did He so desperately want to hide it?” When Kreacher moved to speak he waved his free hand to cut him off. “Stop, I'm trying to figure it out in my head.” A few moments passed. “This has to be important to Voldemort somehow. How?” Kreacher didn't respond. “Okay, well, if he wanted to hide it, there must be some sort of personal value. If Regulus ordered you to destroy it, it must be pivotal. What does he want the most? Power? No, he wouldn't keep that hidden away…what else?” He began to pace again, Kreacher watching every step he took intently.

“If Voldemort was so certain that it had to be hidden away and protected from everybody, it remaining intact has to be a matter of life or death. Therefore…” Upon passing the table, he loudly placed it back in its spot and refused to look away from it. “I believe I have the future of You-Know-Who’s life sitting in my kitchen. His life is in my hands. Just as Regulus’ life was in his.”

It was a strangely satisfying full-circle moment.

Finally, Kreacher piped up. “What do you wish to do, Lord Potter?”

James smiled down at the ancient jewellery. Flashes of secret smiles, icy eyes, and long-ago kisses came back to him in blurs of longing and regret. Years of love were mingling with the bitterness and anger he felt. With the grief. It became instantaneously blinding. A sense of power flooded through his body, revenge taking over all of his senses entirely. If it hadn't been personal up until this moment, at the deaths of Marlene, the twins, his parents, it certainly was now. If he'd hated that man before, now the high of holding power over the man who drove his only love to death was only amplifying the feeling beyond control.

When he looked up, it was with an almost crazed expression and utmost determination racing through his brain.

“We are going to kill Lord Voldemort, Kreacher.” With that, he held out his hand to the elf, gesturing to come forward so they could apparate. Seconds before they left, he used his free hand to snatch up the note and locket, not wanting to leave any indication to the others that something was wrong. He had business to attend to now, and he didn't want to worry any of them into finding him and stopping him from doing so.

[itsdeniini]

𖹭 SUNOO'S FUTURE PATHS IN CAREER 𖹭

(₊˚ʚ🪼₊˚✧ ) note ᰔᩚ ⊹ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ𓆜ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂㅤ🪩 𓇼

i am a self-taught tarot reader, and the interpretations i provide are personal. if anyone would like to share their own insights, i would be more than happy to hear them! please be kind <3

career atm!↪

《ten of wands, eight of swords, the devil》

:c Ah, how do I start? Well, you deserve much better, Sunoo. MUCH BETTER. At the moment, he feels extremely drained, like he's so exhausted by everything that's happening at the moment. it's too much to handle, and the pressure on him is going overdrive. But... he's standing on both feet strong to not disappoint engene. There are a lot of tears, late-night talking, and thoughts like, "Am I doing everything right? I suppose I'm doing a good job and I should push it more; it's still not enough, and I still have a lot of things to bring to the table, but... I feel like losing my ground, and there is a lot of competition surrounding me. How can I maintain myself in a good mood and do my best at the same time when it's so tough and I'm almost worn out? Hm, I should be patient and keep working hard." I've been going through the oracles and they're literally saying that he's been feeling lost and excessively restricted in his career. There is a lot of self-doubt that is plaguing him. deep inside, he wishes he would have the chance to take some control over his own career, but he understands that now that's something surreal, and he has to keep agreeing to the terms of his hard obtained contract and follow the rules that were set for him. And those are impediments that are literally suffocating him and his artistic soul, making him feel like he's not moving further and standing in the same place for too damn long. that's not something that has been happening for just a few months; no, it's been almost 4 years, and there are still a lot of fears to overcome and challenges to face. His inner child may be happy that his mature self managed to pursue his dream career, but at what cost? 

However, he feels a bit more at ease lately as he's getting some opportunities to showcase himself. It's not like he's feeling satisfied with the bare minimum though; that's not even something he's associating himself with because Sunoo is aware he's got the talent, the visuals, and the overall presence that can carry him through his whole life. He knows it's not just a natural gift that was given to him; it's constant hard work he's been putting in for a long time now, and he wants the seeds he planted as a young man to blossom until the time he reaches his peak. That's why now he's trying to snatch every opportunity in his way (in fact, there were a lot of them in the past, but they were all fumbled because of be-) .. ANYWAYS 😌 Sunoo is really thriving at the moment with those little lucky chances he's getting; he knows that's his time to shine, and he wouldn't want to stop any soon.

future career paths! ↪

《the magician, the star, the ace of pentacles》

GRANDIOSE PLANS!

Sunoo will get involved in a lot of activities in the future, BUT there is something... 🐟 .. yeah, something FISHY will be going on. I think there will be a big crew that will manage Sunoo's career, and some of these crew members may not exactly be his perfect co-workers. There will be people who may want to screw him by creating behind-the-scenes rumors or even a whole scandal that revolves around him. It feels like echoes from the past will also reappear and will make themselves known. It will be an unexpected blow to his career. Everything will fall on him at once, and this will be one of the most difficult periods of his life. From here, the energy breaks off, and it’s a little unclear to me what he’s going to do next, since the picture seems to be that this is a fatal knockout that cannot be avoided, but knowing Sunoo, I think he won’t give up without a fight. Still, some outcome is foreseen. This story will have an ending.

But let's talk about the good stuff now!

He is a entertainer. He knows how to 🌟ENTERTAIN🌟 the public!

First of all, he is an incredible fit for the variety shows (and that's not a secret to anyone), so... I think he's most probably thinking of one of his own. It may be a podcast or daily talk show where he would be able to express himself and maybe even talk about his own activities, like something casual, his daily routine, for example, but mainly about photo shoots, his involvement in the media, and most importantly, about his ACTING! Yeah, actor Sunoo is coming, and that career branch of his can even potentially overtake the singing one. Like, we'll be GAGGED when he gets that male lead role (he'll be starting with something BIG; this opportunity will be one of a kind and thus will give him a boost that many newbie actors would wish to have). He will be all over the place, and his singing capabilities will also be used rightfully (he will probably sing an OST?) to attract the audience and gain more attention to his new beginnings in this field. And of course, a lot of individuals will not be happy with that situation because, as I said, some echoes from the past will be sure that this success is thanks to them, and they're the ones who made him famous. This battle for justice will last for some time, and the outcome will become clearer with time. Some things may indicate that the initial stages of this conflict are already behind the scenes at the moment, and when it all becomes public, there will be THAT period when everything will collapse at once.

In addition to the things that I mentioned earlier, there is also the possibility of him starting his own brand, which will initially generate passive income, but then grow into something with a fairly larger impact.

Sunoo may start as a muse for a brand (🧴🌬️) and take this as experience for creating his own thing later. He wants to participate in the making process of his product and then translate this on his platform so he can show everything, from how the idea appeared to how you use it.

Something cute and practical like this, hm?

That was it, I wish Sunoo all the best, I know he'll make it through and we'll be so proud of him! >.<

[slytherinshua]

WE MEET AGAIN

genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. they kinda diss a person together lol. pairing. jinmichae/dried squid fairy x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. no. a/n. was i the only one who didn't know he had a name... 🧍‍♀️ i know jinmichae = dried squid fairy but still i just didn't know 🧍‍♀️

The thing Jinmichae hated the most about story hopping is fitting into his role without struggle. From a prince to the school’s dried squid chef to a college professor. And now he was in this world where he was a… bodyguard? A bodyguard to whom? He hadn’t quite figured it out. The story had only just started. He presumed he was a side character again, and the thought came with a heavy sigh. When would he ever get his chance to love on the stage as well?

There was nothing he could do about his role or his fate to stick as a side character, for that matter. The writer did whatever the writer deemed best with little regard for the characters who obtained consciousness. Jinmichae had always been the first to do so. Maybe that was his fate instead. Being painfully aware of everything going on without being able to do anything about it. 

There was one thing he did like about story hopping, though. If he was lucky enough, he would stumble across you as the story progressed. He liked to see what role the writer put you in this time. Jinmichae was at least thankful that both him and you were centre characters to be included every time. At least you still existed.

He hadn’t found you yet, though. He hadn’t had much chance. He was currently having all these thoughts while at a… conference? Meeting? Of sorts? The room was filled with dozens of other men dressed in similar suits to his, each with walkie-talkies and earpieces. At least the costume design was pleasing.

The stage ended quickly and Jinmichae was free to walk around and investigate this new world a bit. That’s the lie he told himself every time. “Investigate the new world”, what that really meant was look for you. Sometimes he would laugh at the role you were given if it didn’t suit your personality, sometimes he would just be in awe. Sometimes he just missed you a lot and didn’t even care. 

With quick steps around the building he was in, he figured it was some sort of company or corporation. There were many meeting rooms and lobby areas filled scarcely with prettily dressed people. He approached the front desk to ask if there was a library in the building. With newfound directions, Jinmichae made his way up a spiralling staircase and into a quiet (and enormous) mahogany designed library. It took up the entire 4th floor of this corporate building. 

“It’ll take forever to find it…” He let out a soft sigh, anticipating his search that would take hours just to find the comic book for this world.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

He turned immediately at the sound of your voice, finding you standing right behind him, comic book already in hand, a lazy smile splayed on your lips. He laughed astonishingly at how easily you had snuck up on him, and how you had already managed to find the book.

“Let me see the character list.” He murmured, walking to you, arm wrapping around your shoulder naturally. You relaxed into his touch, smelling the faint citrusy scent.

“She gave you a new cologne, huh?” You remarked, flipping open the book to the first page. Jinmichae only hummed, eyes flicking over the drawings of the characters.

“Looks like you’ve got the main role.” He whispered a little teasingly, “A rich heiress to the most successful company in South Korea? No wonder there’s so many bodyguards downstairs.”

“Wasn’t my idea.” You giggled, trying to find his character among the list. “Damn, not even a name. You’re just ‘bodyguard’.” You wheezed.

“Maybe I won’t have that many scenes, then.” He seemed at ease with it, both arms now wrapped around you, hugging you comfortably.

“Nice for you. Ugh, but look at my love interest. This just won’t do.” You scoffed, looking over the profile of the character. A wanted criminal, arms adorned with tattoos all the way up to his neck and too many piercings to count. You glanced back at Jinmichae to see his eyebrows furrowed in distaste. 

“He probably smells like cigarettes.” He quipped, grip tightening on you slightly.

“Wouldn’t doubt it.” You sighed, turning around in his arms so you were now facing him, “When will the author ever realise that my type is not a walking colouring book. He really looks quite disgusting.” You fake gagged, making Jinmichae chuckle.

“Who is your type then?” He asked with fake curiosity, already knowing the answer better than anyone else.

“Hm… I do know of this blond guy, he used to smell like cedarwood, but apparently it's more orangey now. Anyway, he’s very fond of dried squid, and you know, so am I. Really a match made in heaven, if you asked me.” You rambled, humouring him. The longer you went on with the description, the harder it was for Jinmichae to keep a straight face, and eventually, he let out a laugh.

You glanced back at the drawing of your love interest one more time, scoffing again. “I’ll probably throw up if there’s a kiss scene.” You said, the chances not that low.

“If there is a kiss scene, I’ll come find you.”

“What for?” You looked back at him, adoring the way his eyes seemed to only want to look at you.

“To get his cigarette taste off your lips, of course.” He smiled and you grinned cheekily.

“You’re only a nameless bodyguard, though. Are you sure you have the power to do such a feat?” You liked teasing him, maybe a little too much.

“Shall I show you just how capable I am?” He suggested smoothly.

“We’re in a library.” You deadpanned.

Jinmichae’s eyes flicked over the very empty room, “An empty library.”

“At least get behind a bookshelf or something, we’re still in the entrance.” You said, already grabbing his wrist to lead him somewhere a bit more secluded. “Is it scandalous for an heiress to kiss her bodyguard?” You wondered aloud, your hand already travelling up to the base of his hair, fingers sliding through it softly.

“Not sure I’m the right person to ask.” He responded, lips finding yours a second later. 

If it was truly scandalous, neither of you really cared.

↳  k-drama taglist: @yeonjuns-redhair,, @wolfmoonmusic

[radiance1]

FINNALLY FUCKING FOUND THIS POST!

So I'm here to add on to this with another idea that I had, this time concerning Sam than Danny, Vlad and Pariah.

So it's been about three entire years since the Ghost King's left on their quest to find Pariah.

Three years for Danny's friends and family to question where he went.

Three years for them to panic a bit and look for him.

Luckily for them, Sam received a note from Clockwork that the two left on a quest, somewhere along year 1. Which she then told the other, leading to them at least knowing what he's doing and not freaking out over it.

Do the... sudden, change that each and every resident received from a wish, it took some time to adjust for all residents.

Sam considers herself relatively more lucky than some others, say, being turned into a werewolf for example.

Sam herself was turned into a witch, although physically she didn't receive any changes, internally she could feel a thrum of power under her skin, waiting to be released.

So of course she did want any person in her situation would do.

Ask her parents to help her obtain any and all magical tomes they could get their hands on. Hell, they didn't even have to be tomes, just anything that was known to be magical.

Her parents managed to get her what she wanted, though some people made it very difficult to get some items, most of them being museums owners but it wasn't anything enough money couldn't fix.

And promises to take extremely good care, or return them when Sam was finished.

They also, totally unprompted on her part. Got a castle built for her. Only the size of a small mansion yes, but a castle nonetheless.

She thinks they heard talking about having one to herself, but nevertheless it paid off.

By year two she managed to completely go through most of what her parents got for her, then sent back what she was done with to those who wanted it back, if it were pages that still had lingering or outright heavy, amounts of magic still on them she kinda just, used her magic to duplicate them and sent the duplicate back to the museums.

Not that they would really know, now would they? Besides, they wouldn't be able to use said knowledge anyways.

Plus it would also be pretty dangerous if someone else with magical know how got their hands on them.

Now, she isn't pointing fingers but. You know. Freakshow, for example.

Those pages of magical knowledge are ones that she kept in book, with a durability spell and preservation of each and everyone of them, along with protections on the book itself to keep them safe.

Said book is also enchanted to never run out of space for new pages, and if not for any new page, then paper for spells she would right down.

It was near the end of year 2, when she was exploring an old ruin that she got full rights and ownership of. Funnily enough, said old ruin was right beneath her castle, so no one was really going to bother her about it, especially no one outside of Amity.

Amity Park keeps to itself, and anyone outside who wants to look deeper into it is not welcomed.

It was when she was exploring said ruin that she found something... otherworldly.

No it was nothing tied to the Ghost Zone.

At first, she thought it was. But reading through whatever ancient writing was left behind and comparing both ectoplasm and this mysterious pool of substance.

She could say with full confidence that this, liquid, was truly something otherworldly.

So of course she carefully experimented with said substance. It surprised her greatly when she finds out this thing is basically a revive and health potion in one, not like ectoplasm where it gave life to inanimate objects.

Even then that would need them being infused with a heavy amount of the stuff.

Like the Fenton's coo-

Regardless, it was a surprise, but at least it was a pleasant one.

It was when she was down in the ruin, having fixed it up considerably with magic and moved her magical artifacts, knowledge and research equipment down there that another surprise happened in year three.

A few months into the new year, when Sam was minding her business, studying some more ancient tomes and items her parents acquired, that some boy, who looked at least a year older than her. Crawled himself out of her pit.

Safe to say, she wasn't pleased.

But oh was she ever so curious.

[dzthenerd490]

File: ParaNorman

SCP#: AKA

Code Name: A Witch's Revenge.

Object Class: Neutralized

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-AKA was destroyed before the Foundation, or the Global Occult Coalition forces could arrive. However, the area was contaminated by an abundance of TRE Radiation leading to the development of several Meta Humans such as Person of Interest: Norman Babcock who neutralized SCP-AKA in the first place. As such the area has been transformed into a Nexus Point which is unfortunately under the control of the GOC. Due to this as well as the Neutralization of the anomaly, no containment procedures were deemed necessary. 

 Description: SCP-AKA was a dead little girl who was killed back sometime in the 1600’s but she did not remain dead. She was one of the first Level 3 Reality Benders, and an extremely powerful one at that. She had the ability to emit a strange yellow lightning-like energy that allowed her to manipulate the land and even the life force of people around her. Unfortunately, due to her young age and lack of control as well as the time period she was labeled as a witch and killed as a result. However, before she died, she placed a curse on the seven who labeled her as a witch to come back as zombies who would be tortured by the living for being undead monsters. She tried to have this curse activate only a few years after she died but due to Meta Humans known as Ghost Watchers have been suppressing the curse until recently. 

SCP-AKA was discovered in 2012 when the curse was finally unleashed, leading to chaos in the small, isolated town of [data expunged]. The victims of the curse were resurrected as zombies and tried to get in contact with PoI: Norman Babcock to stop the curse. In the meantime, they were brutally attacked by the scared and confused citizens. Unfortunately, even after the true nature of the curse was revealed SCP-AKA was enraged and caused even greater chaos. Thunderstorms, spikes growing from the ground, and plants imprisoning people in the forest. Thankfully this allowed both the Foundation and the Global Occult Coalition to find the exact location of SCP-AKA, but by the time all units arrived the anomaly was already naturalized.

PoI: Norman Babcock managed to subdue the anomaly and with it the chaos ended. The Foundation and the Global Occult Coalition entered a sort of bidding war trying to offer gifts to the residence of [data expunged] but more importantly Norman himself as he was the one who neutralized SCP-AKA. He was offered a new house, robotic servants, better accommodations for his family, the latest in technology, but in the end the Global Occult Coalition won the most favor not from Norman but the rest of the town. The O5 Council was furious but the Ethics Committee, though furious as well, decided to allow Norman to keep quite a few of the promised gifts from the Foundation anyways as a thank you for subduing SCP-AKA. Now the area is recognized as a Nexus Point owned and protected by the Global Occult Coalition. Norman Babcock, who was once an outcast, is now one of the most respected citizens, even those who still hate him do not dare to bully him anymore. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I am glad that the SCP-AKA incident was resolved rather quickly and a once bullied kid is now living his best life. But the fact that more and more incidents are occurring and ending without Foundation knowledge should terrify everyone. We’re supposed to be one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful anomalous organization and yet we can’t even predict anomalous incidents like this one and only get lucky once its resolved. We simply don’t have enough power, and this issue is becoming worse as the decades go by… Worst off, even if we obtain the power needed, who’s going to stop the Foundationists from taking it all. Not the O5, they’ll let the Foundationists commit genocide if it means they get to remain in charge.” -Dr. Tutela

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[dailyanarchistposts]

B.1.2 Is capitalism hierarchical?

Yes. Under capitalism workers do not exchange the products of their labour they exchange the labour itself for money. They sell themselves for a given period of time, and in return for wages, promise to obey their paymasters. Those who pay and give the orders — owners and managers — are at the top of the hierarchy, those who obey at the bottom. This means that capitalism, by its very nature, is hierarchical.

As Carole Pateman argues:

“Capacities or labour power cannot be used without the worker using his will, his understanding and experience, to put them into effect. The use of labour power requires the presence of its ‘owner,’ and it remains mere potential until he acts in the manner necessary to put it into use, or agrees or is compelled so to act; that is, the worker must labour. To contract for the use of labour power is a waste of resources unless it can be used in the way in which the new owner requires. The fiction ‘labour power’ cannot be used; what is required is that the worker labours as demanded. The employment contract must, therefore, create a relationship of command and obedience between employer and worker … In short, the contract in which the worker allegedly sells his labour power is a contract in which, since he cannot be separated from his capacities, he sells command over the use of his body and himself. To obtain the right to use another is to be a (civil) master.” [The Sexual Contract, pp. 150–1]

You need only compare this to Proudhon’s comments quoted in section B.1 to see that anarchists have long recognised that capitalism is, by its very nature, hierarchical. The worker is subjected to the authority of the boss during working hours (sometimes outside work too). As Noam Chomsky summarises, “a corporation, factory of business is the economic equivalent of fascism: decisions and control are strictly top-down.” [Letters from Lexington, p. 127] The worker’s choices are extremely limited, for most people it amount to renting themselves out to a series of different masters (for a lucky few, the option of being a master is available). And master is the right word for, as David Ellerman reminds us, ”[s]ociety seems to have ‘covered up’ in the popular consciousness the fact that the traditional name [for employer and employee] is ‘master and servant.’” [Property and Contract in Economics, p. 103]

This hierarchical control of wage labour has the effect of alienating workers from their own work, and so from themselves. Workers no longer govern themselves during work hours and so are no longer free. And so, due to capitalism, there is “an oppression in the land,” a “form of slavery” rooted in current “property institutions” which produces “a social war, inevitable so long as present legal-social conditions endure.” [Voltairine de Cleyre, Op. Cit., pp. 54–5]

Some defenders of capitalism are aware of the contradiction between the rhetoric of the system and its reality for those subject to it. Most utilise the argument that workers consent to this form of hierarchy. Ignoring the economic conditions which force people to sell their liberty on the labour market (see section B.4.3), the issue instantly arises of whether consent is enough in itself to justify the alienation/selling of a person’s liberty. For example, there have been arguments for slavery and monarchy (i.e. dictatorship) rooted in consent. Do we really want to say that the only thing wrong with fascism or slavery is that people do not consent to it? Sadly, some right-wing “libertarians” come to that conclusion (see section B.4).

Some try to redefine the reality of the command-and-obey of wage labour. “To speak of managing, directing, or assigning workers to various tasks is a deceptive way of noting that the employer continually is involved in re-negotiation of contracts on terms that must be acceptable to both parties,” argue two right-wing economists. [Arman Alchian and Harold Demsetz, quoted by Ellerman, Op. Cit., p. 170] So the employer-employee (or, to use the old, more correct, terminology, master-servant) contract is thus a series of unspoken contracts.

However, if an oral contract is not worth the paper it is written on, how valuable is an unspoken one? And what does this “re-negotiation of contracts” amount to? The employee decides whether to obey the command or leave and the boss decides whether the employee is obedient and productive enough to remain in under his or her control. Hardly a relationship based on freedom between equal partners! As such, this capitalist defence of wage labour “is a deceptive way of noting” that the employee is paid to obey. The contract between them is simply that of obedience on one side and power on the other. That both sides may break the contract does not alter this fact. Thus the capitalist workplace “is not democratic in spite of the ‘consent of the governed’ to the employment contract … In the employment contract, the workers alienate and transfer their legal rights to the employer to govern their activities ‘within the scope of the employment’ to the employer.” [David Ellerman, The Democratic Worker-Owned Firm, p. 50]

Ultimately, there is one right that cannot be ceded or abandoned, namely the right to personality. If a person gave up their personality they would cease to be a person yet this is what the employment contract imposes. To maintain and develop their personality is a basic right of humanity and it cannot be transferred to another, permanently or temporarily. To argue otherwise would be to admit that under certain circumstances and for certain periods of time a person is not a person but rather a thing to be used by others. Yet this is precisely what capitalism does due to its hierarchical nature.

This is not all. Capitalism, by treating labour as analogous to all other commodities denies the key distinction between labour and other “resources” — that is to say its inseparability from its bearer �� labour, unlike other “property,” is endowed with will and agency. Thus when one speaks of selling labour there is a necessary subjugation of will (hierarchy). As Karl Polanyi writes:

“Labour is only another name for human activity which goes with life itself, which is in turn not produced for sale but for entirely different reasons, nor can that activity be detached from the rest of life itself, be stored or mobilised … To allow the market mechanism to be sole director of the fate of human beings and their natural environment … would result in the demolition of society. For the alleged commodity ‘labour power’ cannot be shoved about, used indiscriminately, or even left unused, without affecting also the human individual who happens to be the bearer of this peculiar commodity. In disposing of a man’s labour power the system would, incidentally, dispose of the physical, psychological, and moral entity ‘man’ attached to that tag.” [The Great Transformation, p. 72]

In other words, labour is much more than the commodity to which capitalism tries to reduce it. Creative, self-managed work is a source of pride and joy and part of what it means to be fully human. Wrenching control of work from the hands of the worker profoundly harms his or her mental and physical health. Indeed, Proudhon went so far as to argue that capitalist companies “plunder the bodies and souls of the wage-workers” and were an “outrage upon human dignity and personality.” [Op. Cit., p. 219] This is because wage labour turns productive activity and the person who does it into a commodity. People “are not human beings so much as human resources. To the morally blind corporation, they are tool to generate as much profit as possible. And ‘the tool can be treated just like a piece of metal — you use it if you want, you throw it away if you don’t want it,’ says Noam Chomsky. ‘If you can get human beings to become tool like that, it’s more efficient by some measure of efficiency … a measure which is based on dehumanisation. You have to dehumanise it. That’s part of the system.’” [Joel Bakan, The Corporation, p. 69]

Separating labour from other activities of life and subjecting it to the laws of the market means to annihilate its natural, organic form of existence — a form that evolved with the human race through tens of thousands of years of co-operative economic activity based on sharing and mutual aid — and replacing it with an atomistic and individualistic one based on contract and competition. Unsurprisingly, this relationship is a very recent development and, moreover, the product of substantial state action and coercion (see section F.8 for some discussion of this). Simply put, “the early labourer … abhorred the factory, where he [or she] felt degraded and tortured.” While the state ensured a steady pool of landless workers by enforcing private property rights, the early manufacturers also utilised the state to ensure low wages, primarily for social reasons — only an overworked and downtrodden labourer with no other options would agree to do whatever their master required of them. “Legal compulsion and parish serfdom as in England,” noted Polanyi, “the rigors of an absolutist labour police as on the Continent, indented labour as in the early Americas were the prerequisites of the ‘willing worker.’” [Op. Cit., pp. 164–5]

Ignoring its origins in state action, the social relationship of wage labour is then claimed by capitalists to be a source of “freedom,” whereas in fact it is a form of (in)voluntary servitude (see sections B.4 and A.2.14 for more discussion). Therefore a libertarian who did not support economic liberty (i.e. self-government in industry, libertarian socialism) would be no libertarian at all, and no believer in liberty. Capitalism is based upon hierarchy and the denial of liberty. To present it otherwise denies the nature of wage labour. However, supporters of capitalism try to but — as Karl Polanyi points out — the idea that wage labour is based upon some kind of “natural” liberty is false:

“To represent this principle [wage labour] as one of non-interference [with freedom], as economic liberals were wont to do, was merely the expression of an ingrained prejudice in favour of a definite kind of interference, namely, such as would destroy non-contractual relations between individuals and prevent their spontaneous re-formation.” [Op. Cit., p.163]

As noted above, capitalism itself was created by state violence and the destruction of traditional ways of life and social interaction was part of that task. From the start, bosses spent considerable time and energy combating attempts of working people to join together to resist the hierarchy they were subjected to and reassert human values. Such forms of free association between equals (such as trade unions) were combated, just as attempts to regulate the worse excesses of the system by democratic governments. Indeed, capitalists prefer centralised, elitist and/or authoritarian regimes precisely because they are sure to be outside of popular control (see section B.2.5). They are the only way that contractual relations based on market power could be enforced on an unwilling population. Capitalism was born under such states and as well as backing fascist movements, they made high profits in Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy. Today many corporations “regularly do business with totalitarian and authoritarian regimes — again, because it is profitable to do so.” Indeed, there is a “trend by US corporations to invest in” such countries. [Joel Bakan, Op. Cit., p. 89 and p. 185] Perhaps unsurprisingly, as such regimes are best able to enforce the necessary conditions to commodify labour fully.

[nichenarratives]

Hurricane Heller 14

A Niche Narratives Fanficiton.

last | first | next

14. Heartfelt Sentiment

Reassigned to Fiores' former underboss position by the end of the week, Mordecai finds himself with very little free time, something he doesn't begrudge. Having recently severed all ties with his family and now his only friend, he's glad for the distraction that comes with restructuring an entire network of lucrative hustles, burying himself under the workload. Mentally exhausted by ledgers and body still healing, he's swift to pass out once he hits the mattress, barely able to ruminate on emotional detriments.

Once able to walk reliably, he borrows Mr Kovitz's cane and makes a point of visiting each establishment now under his management, both to familiarise himself with each business and obtain first hand experience of their functionality. He quickly realises that while Fiores introduced an overarching ledger system into all seven of his branches, he didn't train anyone specific to manage them, resulting in numerous sets of incomplete ledgers, lost stock and missing revenue.

Weeks are poured into fixing inconsistencies, repairing core infrastructure and generally reorganizing the staff to ensure each site had a single man responsible not just for stock or ordering, but for collating each employee's ledgers into one at the end of each night. This final ledger, along with all the individual ledgers from each employee, are then checked for errors and approved personally by Mordecai before being sent to Savage; a workload that keeps him exceptionally busy.

Finding himself in control of those enterprises' finances, not only does he instigate a similar commission system to the one he arranged with Fiores but increases the percentage for those who maintain final ledgers, ensuring they manage their time and men as effectively as possible in his absence.

The more enjoyable financial work is infrequently interrupted by interrogations summons, a branch of his duties Mordecai most detests, now he has more interesting engagements to attend. He resents every target for dragging him away from his management role and it shows in his methodology. The rumours spread suggest he's less patient with the obstinate, more violent with his persuasive techniques and often would inflict further harm after confessions 'to be certain' they'd shared all they had to offer before the session concluded.

There's also rumours he's personally executed targets after their torture sessions ended, but it remains pure conjecture; the Kosher Butcher won't discuss his work in the factory with anyone, not even Gabriel.

Weeks slip past without acknowledgement. After a second, painful visit from the brash nurse, Mordecai learns to clean and dress his own wounds and three weeks later, removes his own stitches with boiling water, scissors and a pair of pliers. All that remains is a slight indent in the muscle of his outer thigh, edged with a thin scar; no phantom pain, no loss of mobility, no compromised function. 

I got lucky, he thinks whenever the scar catches his eye. He often traces the edge of it with a claw in the shower, the fine line where no fur regrows, a reminder to be more diplomatic. With newly acquired spare funds and a livelihood worth protecting, he invests in his first handgun; a stolen piece an older enforcer sold for a quick buck, now slung at his hip. To ensure history does not repeat itself. 

With excess funds saved by managerial systems, Mordecai repairs the rundown launderette that's become his office and begins running the shop as an actual laundromat, which helps remove the increasing number of blood stains his suits accumulate when he moonlights at the factory. The small boost in revenue even allows the tom to pay enforcers to ensure he's never ambushed while finalising accounts.

In the launderette back room, surrounded by ledgers and a cup of Earl Gray in hand, it's easy to forget he used to have a life outside of the underworld. It's only on Sundays, when residual memory buried deep in his subconscious continues to wake the monochrome tom well before sunrise, that he remembers; a mother, two sisters, early morning prayers. An entire other life he's abandoned.

For almost a year, Mordecai rises and walks the dark streets as he did as a child, cloaked by twilight, as if ashamed of the ritual, his hat pulled low and hands deep in his overcoat pockets. The pistol taps his thigh with each step, a reminder of all he's committed to as he pauses at the end of the street and waits, hidden in the shadows until the remnants of his family sleepily file out of the home and head to the morning services.

Once they turn the far corner, he'll jog up the steps, slip an envelope of money under their door, and head home again.

His emotions are always conflicted as he walks home; with his eighteenth birthday, living alone and not having spoken to her for a year, Mordecai has no obligation to his mother's bills. He could keep his earnings, spend all his savings on a lavish lifestyle befitting an underboss, or move into a larger place in a better neighbourhood. He'd be self made; respected; feared; and alone in his peaceful apartment.

Yet he still pushes half of his wages under the door while they're at temple, perhaps too ashamed to face his mother, or perhaps too afraid of a confirmation rejection. Sundays are hollow and empty, every activity unfulfilling until he just goes back to bed, sleeping away the day and waking early to begin his week once more, a week full of numerals and victims, all exhausting and distracting, always busy.

This Sunday is supposed to be the same. He wakes early, dresses smart, slips his pistol into its holster and heads out with his overcoat collar popped, shoulders hunched, his old satchel bumping his hip. Arriving at the corner, he pauses to wait and checks his pocket watch, running his thumb across the embossed face before clicking it open. He's on time. They'll leave any moment.

Time passes, but his family doesn't leave. Brows knit into a frown, Mordecai once again checks his watch, holds it to an ear to check it still ticks and has not malfunctioned. Fifteen minutes have gone by beyond their latest former departures and yet this morning, there's nothing. He takes a tentative step closer to glance inside, but with the curtains drawn and lights off, he can't see any movements in the windows.

The monochrome tom deduces they must have left earlier - it's happened once before - and resumes his usual routine; extracting an envelope of cash addressed to mother from a breast pocket, Mordecai jogs up the steps, crouches down, and eases the wedge beneath the door.

Once content the envelope is safely inside, he straightens, adjusts his coat and has just turned to leave when he hears the door crack open. He freezes on the top step, ear turning to the sound as a slither of weak light illuminates the view to his left. Despite the opportunity being right there, practically begging him to engage, he just can't find the strength to turn and face whomever caught him delivering the money.

The door closes, leaving Mordecai alone once more, lost to the twilight of yet another Sunday. His shoulders sag, dark ears fold back and he holds the creaking metal railing as a ground for his emotions, unsure what he'd hoped to happen, but definitely discontent even his family couldn't talk to him. Emerald eyes close as he grips the railing tightly, his leather gloves creaking, forcing himself to breathe, to focus-

Mordecai stiffens, left hand immediately going to the handle of his pistol as slim arms encase his torso, drawing him into the small feline directly behind him and a warm embrace. It takes him a heartbeat to feel the pince nez dig into his back when a face presses between his shoulder blades, but he releases the pistol soon after, exhaling shakily as he rests a gloved hand on his sister's arm, relaxing just a little in the familial embrace.

"I miss you," Esther whispers into the dark, a secret lost to the developing sunrise. Her arms tighten a smidgen, pulling at his waist, the envelope of cash crinkling in her grasp just under his arm. "We all do. Come home. Please."

For once, the monochrome cat is lost for words, incapable of drawing any with adequate weight to feel fitting. Whether she's aware of that or simply accepting of his silence, Esther doesn't demand a response from her estranged brother. All she does his hold him, breathing him in, memorising the feel of embracing him for what feels like moments but is closer to minutes until finally, she releases him to the shadows.

Numbed nerves tingle as Esther wordlessly goes back into their childhood home, a brief slither of light once again cast onto Mordecai's back before a quiet click brings their private reunion to a close. It takes the tom a few minutes to find the momentum to leave. He jogs down the steps and heads to his own apartment, locking himself inside before spending the rest of the day trying to burn a restless energy deep in his bones, painfully nostalgic memories of his time at home constantly floating to the forefront of his mind

[burnwater13]

Boba Fett and Fennec Shand on Tython as they run down hill to respond to the appearance of stormtroopers (out of frame). Image from The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 6, The Tragedy. Calendar by DataWorks.

One of the reasons Grogu knew the Force was real had everything to do with things that happened to other people as opposed to the things that he could do that other people couldn’t readily explain. For example, how in the heck did Fennec Shand and Boba Fett end up on Tython? 

Grogu didn’t believe that the older Mandalorian had put a tracker on the Razor Crest. He also didn’t think his armor had a tracker on it. Plus, how did he just happen to be at the right place at the right time to save Fennec? The Daimyo had said that he’d just been lucky. Sure. Right. Lucky. It’s what people who hadn’t been trained by the Jedi said to explain things that were the most improbable thing they had ever witnessed by a wide margin. Luck. 

Grogu knew that it was important to the balance of the Force that Din Djarin, Boba Fett, and Fennec Shand meet and become allies. It was necessary because Grogu had been kidnapped, again, by the ex-Imp remnants that were working hard at annoying him. He had something they wanted and the Force, very clearly, didn’t want that to happen. After all, Grogu was one of the chosen ones. Chosen by the Force to survive Order 66.

Think about it. Every bounty hunter and their brother seemed to have a fob for him. Kuiil has said something to that effect to Din Djarin. His valley was the site of any number of bounty hunters failing utterly to collect Grogu. Then suddenly the Mandalorian arrived on Arvala-7, made ‘friends’ with an assassin droid (which was just flat out nonsense on the face of it, given how much the bounty hunter hated droids), and was able to do what on one else had done… collect Grogu. 

It wasn’t that Grogu thought Din Djarin wasn’t a good bounty hunter. Apparently, he was the best in the Outer Rim and he had a snappy tag line too. ‘I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.’ That line said it all. It was his choice. Not yours. Never yours. But how had the Mandalorian missed out on the earlier bounty fobs? How did he not meet the customer sooner? Had convenient that he heard about the job when he was in a perfect position to take it. That is how the Force worked. 

Then how does he end up not catching Fennec? Best in the Outer Rim wasn’t a title given to lots of people. Just the one. But Boba Fett manages to find her, get her modified in order to save her and she agrees to work for someone who must have been known to her. They both had reputations that were well known within the Jedi Temple and throughout the Syndicates. Somehow, the two of them saw the advantage of working together and they both saw the advantage of being honorable with Din Djarin.  Yup, the very clear hand of the Force. 

And Grogu realized, as the battle droid thing was taking him away from Tython, that the Force didn’t want the three of them to some sort of easy time with rescuing him. They had to work for it. The Mandalorian had to trust them. They had to be honorable. They had to give up old grievances and formulate a plan that would demand that everyone involved work to the best of their ability. They would be tested. Why else would they end up working with Bo-Katan or even Miggs Mayfeld? Nothing but the Force could get Boba Fett to work with the former Daimyo, that had been clear, the way he’d told Grogu the story much later. 

It wasn’t like Cara Dune was just waiting to let some criminal go to get his help in obtaining the necessary information on Moff Gideon’s location. It’s not like Mayfeld was some sort of honorable person who had any good reason for treating her or the Mandalorian well. He was a huge risk and Grogu was certain she wasn’t taking that risk on simply on Grogu's behalf. Heck, she didn’t even want to carry him out of the burned out space the Client had worked from before IG-11 turned the tables on the ex-Imps. It had been the Force. She could no more say ‘no’ to it than she could happily eat a living frog. 

Then, how the heck did they manage to get on and off Morak? Sure, in theory no one knew they going there and they didn’t really give themselves away until the very end of their mission, according to Cara, but how? If you have a secret base, don’t you have security to try and keep it a secret? How did they let Mayfeld survive leaving Imperial Service knowing that much. Grogu would have expected a person as notionally intelligent as Moff Gideon to have addressed loose ends like that. But no. He didn’t. They didn’t. It was like leaving the backdoor to the bank wide open, expecting no one who walked the alleyway behind the bank to notice. Only the Force could get away with circumstances like that. 

It helped that so many people didn’t believe in the Force. Good luck, bad luck, no luck. Curses. Premonitions. Prophecies. Fate. All that sort of bunk, when in reality the Force was putting its ‘thumb’ on the scales and getting the kind of balance it preferred. People were blind to it and just complained or shook their head or acted confused. Importantly they didn’t plan for it one way or the other. So the mission to Morak was a success. Their plan to rescue him was a success. Their cooperation, honor, skills, and determination had carried the day, because the Force didn’t want it any other way. 

Grogu wasn’t going to argue with it. It was tipped to his advantage and he had no idea how long that would last. He didn’t want to consider what might have happened if the Force had decided that he was too much trouble. All he had asked for when he was at the Seeing Stone was that the Mandalorian realize that he needed a son as much as Grogu needed a dad. The Force agreed with him and for that he was grateful. Of course he hadn’t known that his next destination was going to be Luke’s Jedi Sleep Away Camp. If he had, he might have been a little more specific with his request.

Boba Fett talking to Din Djarin (out of frame) on Tython. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 6, The Tragedy. Caption reads: But fate sometimes steps in to rescue the wretched.

[melodymidway]

Stings of Jealousy

This story includes two situations in which Jonathan and Cynthia both experienced jealousy firsthand. How it happened and whether the tension was eventually resolved, we're going to find out.

Cynthia Hearst belongs to @helenadurazzo

July 1963

Cynthia

After all the stress of the final exams at Hogwarts, a breath of fresh air was an immense blessing that Cynthia planned on taking full advantage of. Sure, the fuss was nowhere near over - while she might have left the school behind, application for the Auror trainings, yet another load of studies, now awaited her with impatience - and though she was eager for the new beginnings, she also required at least a brief break. Jonathan was more than happy to keep her company, and taking his ever crazy schedule into account, Cynthia couldn't help feeling pleased that whenever he caught an opportune moment, his mind immediately turned to her. Her betrothed made her choice of career all the more promising: she looked forward to becoming a full-fletched Auror and sharing not only leisure, but also missions with him.

The summer afternoon proved to be exceptionally lovely, so instead of apparating directly to the entrance of her destination, Cynthia decided to take a short stroll through the Diagon Alley first. This time, Jonathan invited her to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, and while she secretly wished it to be a little carefree date for just the two of them, the occasion was different than usual and involved a mutual pastime with his friends. Despite Cynthia's willingness to have her betrothed all to herself for these few hours, she liked to think of his initiative as a sign of her deeper integration into his private life. Jonathan wasn't the most laid-back person in the world, yet he made genuine effort to discover more about Cynthia and give her access to some corners of his heart that were usually hidden behind solid locks in return. He had never bothered to do it with Olivia, but with her, such a behaviour clearly stated that he very much wanted for their relationship and eventual marriage to work in the best way possible.

The shop had plenty of tables inside, as well as a couple outside, and her companions were lucky enough to take the biggest one in the fresh air. Having no weight of the Auror uniform on his shoulders and being around people he loved and trusted did wonders to Jonathan's demeanour: his usually hard face seemed utterly relaxed, and when he stood up to greet her, his smile shone brighter than the sun, in Cynthia's biased opinion.

Ever the gentleman, her betrothed planted a kiss on her knuckles.

"You look lovely."

Like all of his compliments, it was fairly simple and deprived of extensive flattery, but Cynthia felt her cheeks reddening all the same.

A part of their company remained in the building, picking various flavours from the spacious counter, yet before Cynthia could follow their example, she was approached by those who had already made their orders.

The first woman looked familiar, yet Cynthia didn't recognise her before hearing her name.

"I'm Yasmina. It's good to finally meet Olivia's sister, and the lady who managed to obtain Jonathan's heart no less." At her playful wink, her betrothed only rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Jonathan, I can't express how relieved I am that you and Olivia are no longer promised to each other. Of course, it would have been even worse if your mother had set you with some dark witch, but your and Olivia's relationship still came as a close second in the scale of disaster."

"We can agree on that," Cynthia giggled, trying to support the light atmosphere. While seemingly friendly, Yasmina's smile was a little restrained. "Though I must admit that their spectacle of lovebirds looked rather plausible during most events. I can only imagine the amount of effort it took."

"The Auror Office stole a true gem from the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts," said the blond man from behind Yasmina, wrapping his arm around her waist. Cynthia assumed that they were dating before spotting the identical rings on their fingers.

Jonathan frowned at his friend but received a mere amused chuckle in response.

"It's Gaston," he explained. "Don't mind him too much. Like any Ollivander, he spent more time around trees than people, and it shows."

"That's quite rich, coming from the infamous lover of training dummies!"

The man who preferred to let his companions embarrass themselves rather than open his mouth so far shook his head with obvious fondness and extended his hand to Cynthia amicably.

"Caspar Egwu," he introduced himself. Judging by his smart clothes, he had a lunch break rather than a day off. "Jonathan spoke a lot about you, all the good things, of course. To see him so besotted is delightful."

Cynthia didn't manage to hide her smirk. "That doesn't sound like Jonathan."

Caspar snorted. "Believe me, if someone saw your relationship coming, it's me. Jonathan and I happen to vent to each other about romantic matters. Frankly, I'm unlucky in those. Remember my words, they will start teasing me about being the only single person in the company very soon." Realising that he had deviated from the initial topic a little, he glanced at Jonathan. "Anyway, he held you in high regard while still being betrothed to your sister, and since then, his attitude is steadily becoming more and more affectionate. It's particularly obvious in comparison to the absolute bashing poor Olivia Hearst gets."

A loud laugh sounded right beside them. Turning her head, Cynthia figured that it was, apparently, caused by some comment of Jonathan's and came from the woman she hadn't yet interacted with. Noticing the warm twinkle in the eyes of her betrothed, directed at the stranger, Cynthia sensed weird discomfort appearing in place of her merriment from seconds ago.

"Lea, meet my fiancée," Jonathan said with the corners of his lips turned upwards. Now capable of having a better look at the woman's face, Cynthia noted that it largely mirrored Gaston's, save for the trail of freckles that the latter didn't possess. "Cynthia, that's Lea, a close friend of mine."

The woman nodded at her, and Cynthia was slightly taken aback by the pout of her lips, clearly expressing dislike. Now that she thought about it, only Caspar's sincerity was undeniable: Gaston didn't say a single word directly to her and Yasmina, while the most pleasant out of three, had a cool air about herself as well.

And why did Jonathan feel the need to call specifically the Ollivander lady, of all people, his close friend? Quietly breathing in and out, Cynthia excused herself to choose ice cream inside, but the thought of this Lea in the company of her betrothed never stopped haunting her mind. It was why she received such a cold welcome, wasn't it? Lea Ollivander wanted to be in her place, and her brother and friends certainly supported her over some unknown upstart.

Cynthia's desire to collect her thoughts away from Jonathan's confidants became yet another fiasco: the last member of today's gathering still lingered in the shop. Her distress was likely palpable since his gaze quickly turned concerned.

"You're Cynthia, right? My name is Derrick Ashe. Are you quite fine?"

Her weak smile did nothing to reassure him. Derrick sighed. "The lot of them can't be trusted not to scare people away, can they? All in all, have no worry, they will come along eventually. Jonathan's choice couldn't have possibly fallen on a rotten person."

Confused, Cynthia pointed out: "You're very... protective of him."

"You could say that. But frankly, we rarely have snakes in our midst, therefore they may be wary of you."

Not only was she a stranger, but also a Slytherin. "Is my House truly such an issue?"

Derrick shrugged. "Not to me since my wife's a Slytherin alumni herself, but I can't blame them, either. No offense, but in most cases, the members of your House give zero reason to like them. Actually, if I'm not mistaken, Jonathan first encountered Yasmina and your sister while they were resisting Slytherin bullies."

His words left a bitter aftertaste in Cynthia's mouth. All of a sudden, she remembered Jonathan's words, saying that he considered her a Gryffindor in disguise and joking that some idiot simply stole her red and gold tie, forcing her to study with the snakes. Then, she didn't pay much attention to the context, but now...

Was it so important to him? Did he sometimes think that Lea, a true lion, and the one of his own age at that, would make a better betrothed for the heir of the Midway family? No, Cynthia told herself, someone like Jonathan, a person of morals and principles, would never delude her, to say nothing about cheating. She needed to have more faith in him.

As she pampered herself with three scoops of ice cream and returned back, Jonathan moved a chair for her next to himself. To Cynthia's displeasure, Lea sat on his other side.

The conversations flew surprisingly smoothly, perhaps because she learned whom to address safely and with whom not to take initiative at all. Derrick and Caspar came closest to be considered her allies, and Yasmina also seemed to accept her more than not, though whether because of her and Olivia's friendship or seeing that Cynthia wasn't that bad, she didn't know. The Ollivanders remained the most difficult bunch to deal with, and it didn't help that Jonathan and Lea clearly enjoyed hanging out together and knew each other unsettlingly well.

"Next time, I ought to ask my Eulalie to join us," Derrick told Cynthia casually, distracting her from her musings. "The two of you will get along splendidly, I believe. We have a son, Carlos, not even a year old yet. He and Lea's Trudy will study in the same year at Hogwarts one day, just like we did not so long ago."

Cynthia blinked at the unknown name. "Trudy?"

Derrick sent Lea a pointed look. "We all know you always keep a picture of your little girl in your handbag."

Though visibly doubtful whether to reach out to Cynthia at first, Lea did show her a small photo, holding it carefully, like her personal treasure. On it, there was a man with a newborn baby in his arms. The signature under the image said: 'Gertrude Phoebe Larkin, June 5th, 1963'.

"I might not have seen many children, but I swear, I certainly never met one who looked so much like their mother since the moment they were born," Jonathan commented. "You and Roy were truly blessed with her."

It had been a while since Cynthia felt so foolish. Caspar did tell her that all the members of their company except him had partners, and she failed to notice! While hot embarrassment caused her cheeks to flush, making Jonathan send her an odd gaze, the tension that held her insides in a tight grip gradually faded, soothed by the news. Now, Cynthia was certain that given time, she and the friends of her betrothed would find some sort of common ground.

Jonathan

The day of his cousin's wedding came unbidden, and after the rather meticulous process of switching continents, Jonathan found himself on the picturesque shores of the Pacific Ocean. The ceremony on a beach differed from the classic celebrations so characteristic of their family, yet he wasn't at all astonished that Alyssie chose to break the circle. Outlandishness and distinct Midway features were wondrously interwoven in her striking self, and it always impressed Jonathan that no matter the difficulties and strictness of their shared profession, Lyssa never lost her light and humour. These traits strongly reminded him of both of her parents, Uncle Edan's mischief and Aunt Assana's grace. The three of them were Jonathan's closest family members ever since his father had perished, and he cared for them all immensely.

For that very reason, the man Alyssie had admitted to developing a strong liking for was taken under scrutiny instantly. Jonathan could swear by Godric Gryffindor, he had been benevolent to Kayden Windward in the beginning. By all means, the American Auror and the graduate of Ilvermorny's Horned Serpent was a responsible and perspective man. Yet, Lyssa then proceeded to fall pregnant, and when Kayden didn't propose to her, as would have been right and proper, Jonathan saw red. It took his cousin a return to England from her working period abroad to explain that her lover didn't abandon her and there was, in fact, nothing wrong with having a child out of wedlock. Jonathan didn't agree - their world was all about traditions, reputation and connections - but nothing could be changed at that point, so he merely bit his tongue.

Now, three-years-old Gwendolyn Windward, dressed fancily for her parents' special day, clinged to him shyly, and Jonathan didn't resist the impulse of taking the girl in his arms and spinning her around, much to her delight. Aunt Assana had a tearful smile on her face when she pointed out that the two of them looked exactly like Jonathan's father with baby Alyssie from decades ago. Cynthia, who came along with the rest of the Midways as his betrothed, gazed at him incredibly warmly, saying that one day, he would hold their own daughter that way.

Spending time with the people he loved most felt wonderful, and Jonathan was even ready to disregard his soured opinion on Lyssa's husband to cherish the event. While Uncle Edan was talking to Kayden - the conversation seemed to be cheerful enough - his favourite cousin was accepting greetings from their grandparents. Grandfather Griffith insisted on not missing the wedding of his dear granddaughter, even though the last few months were particularly merciless to his declining health. Despite the fact that he and Grandmother Medea were of the same age, she was way more lively and currently had Alyssie in the circle of her arms.

The whole range of entertainments followed the happiest moment for the newlyweds. Jonathan, far from the fondest dancer on the celebration, kept his distance from the dance floor, preferring to engage in discussions and occasionally leave the crowd to listen to the calming sound of waves crushing on the shore. When she wasn't having fun with her husband or taking care of little Gwen, Alyssie joined him, and Jonathan couldn't help remembering that the end of the festivities would once again mark their indefinite separation. He might not have had a true sister like Cynthia did, but to him, his cousin was as good as one.

Right when the mention of his betrothed crossed his mind, Jonathan spotted her black curls among the numerous guests. She stood near a blond guy who, judging by the active movements of his hands, was passionately describing something to her. Even with all the commotion of their surroundings, Jonathan saw her wide smile and the way her mouth opened to let out a laugh.

It was a manner Cynthia reacted to his own quips in, and the thought of her finding a stranger's comments just as clever, if not more so, was a blow Jonathan couldn't anticipate, not even with all his fighting experience.

Who in Merlin's name the lad even was? Probably a relative or a friend of Kayden's, for Jonathan didn't recall ever seeing his face anywhere near his cousin.

"Daniel Watson," Alyssie provided helpfully, and only then did he realise that he said the question aloud. "He's the fiancé of Freya, Kayden's sister. You met her, didn't you?"

Jonathan didn't and had no intention to, frankly, but since he and Lyssa conveniently went hand in hand, she directed him to her desired destination without much resistance. He felt like a stupid green boy instead of a grown man when he stole another glance at the interlocutors. This time, it was Cynthia who did the talking, and the guy listened to her incessantly, as though enchanted.

To say that he didn't like the sight of it would be a grave understatement. Sure, Cynthia had never been supposed to be chained to him, yet her companion seemed to act a little too emotionally and even forwardly towards an engaged woman, especially for a simple acquaintance. The steadily growing irritation inside him roared with new force, and Jonathan didn't bother to hide his scowl.

Freya Windward turned out to be a young woman with the hair even paler than that of her supposed betrothed. Jonathan kept the pleasantries curt: he was in no mood to entertain any kind of farce.

"Are you alright with that?" he eventually inquired, unable to put his ire to rest. Across the tables that served a considerable amount of food even after most of the guests had already finished eating, Daniel passed Cynthia a glass of wine, brushing her fingers with his while doing so. Fire crawled up Jonathan's spine: it would do that fool well to keep his hands to himself if he wanted them to remain firmly attached to his body!

Kayden's sister only raised her eyebrows at him. "Why shouldn't I be? Daniel encountered a person who shares his interests. I'm glad he made a new friend."

"Friend," Jonathan scoffed derisively. Her fiancé was outright flirting with another woman, and she didn't bat an eye! Freya's looks did make an impression that she was meek, but the true degree of her naivete quite exceeded his assumptions.

His intonation failed to intimidate her, though. "Yes, as strange as it may sound, the relationship between a man and a woman isn't always romantic. Besides, I like to think that Daniel and I are past doubting each other's loyalty. Do you trust your intended so little as to believe that she can betray you, and before your very eyes no less?"

"It isn't about my attitude towards Cynthia," Jonathan objected. His fiancée was one of the few people to whom he would turn his unguarded back and be unafraid of a possible strike. "However, it's very much about the behaviour of your Daniel. Who does he think he is, fawning over my betrothed as though trying to court her?"

Freya simply shrugged, indicating that she had said everything she wanted to. Lyssa, however, was looking at him with exasperation. "If you're so dissatisfied that another man is paying attention to her, you can take his place, you know. Stop sulking, Jonathan, it doesn't suit you."

He twisted the thought in his mind for a couple of moments. "You're right." Alyssie rolled her eyes, seemingly at his initial narrow-mindedness. "It's unlike me to stay idle, isn't it? After all, a wedding becomes funnier than ever when a little clash is involved."

Lyssa's face lost all of its smugness immediately. "Don't you dare!" she hissed, grabbing his hand as he started moving in Daniel and Cynthia's direction. "He's my future brother-in-law, and the last thing I need is your spoiling my relationship with Kayden's family!"

Jonathan sighed. His cousin was usually the one to understand jokes. "And I hoped you had a better opinion on me. I would never ruin your celebration like that."

Her snort was almost as offensive as the spells Jonathan so wished to fire at the annoying lad. "I'm sure you wouldn't, at least as long as your emotions don't take control of you."

To Jonathan's relief, Cynthia's smile never dimmed as he came closer, though her companion no longer seemed quite as sure of himself as he used to under the supervision of ruthless black eyes.

"What are you up to, dear?" he asked gently, embracing her and placing a kiss on her temple.

Cynthia positively melted at his touch. "In fact, Daniel was just going to ask me for the next dance. Right, Daniel?"

Jonathan forced his dislike for dancing somewhere deep inside in favor of sending the guy another glare. "You must forgive me for intruding, but I wish to take my betrothed to the dance floor myself."

When Cynthia placed one of her hands on his shoulder and the other squeezed his palm in return, his muscles relaxed almost instinctively, and his anger was pushed back to whichever cell of his soul it usually resided in. The need to move to the soft sounds of music didn't feel burdening as his darling fiancée's undivided attention was all his, and Jonathan relished in it more than he would ever admit.

However, Cynthia decided not to make the endeavour too easy for him. "Daniel and I have just had a wonderful conversation about writing. You won't believe how knowledgeable he is! The festivals for authors that he told me about are an extremely interesting initiative. Perhaps I should attend one someday."

"Perhaps," Jonathan echoed. Whether it was something in his intonation or the look of his face, but Cynthia furrowed her eyebrows worriedly. He sighed. Few things were less strange than trying to express one's feelings in coherent words. "You know I fully support your writing, but Daniel... doesn't seem like a good sort to me. I dislike the way he acts towards you." Jonathan sensibly didn't add that another attempt to win Cynthia's favour might cause him to accidentally stumble and fall off a cliff.

His betrothed was bemused. "But he didn't do anything-" She trailed off when understanding lit her features up and a giggle escaped her lips. "You're jealous, Jonathan." His scandalised expression only made her giggle harder. "Sweet Merlin, it's really true. Oh, my love, aren't we cut from the same cloth? When we met with your friends a few weeks ago, I genuinely assumed that Lea planned to steal you away from me."

Jonathan couldn't help the sound that his throat made, something between a laugh and a cough. "Lea? Steal me?"

"We can both agree that our sentiments weren't the most reasonable ones," Cynthia mumbled, blushing. "Daniel may be the best writer in the whole universe, and I would still never leave you for him."

Abandoning the steps of their dance, Jonathan pulled her closer to himself, whispering his own promise into her ear: "Lea is a very dear friend to me, but a friend only. I'm yours, my Cynthia, and it will never change."

[tehuti88-art]

12/27/24: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's characters from my anthro WWII storyline are Unnamed Resistance Doctor and Unnamed Servant. The doctor is the one who helps save Otto Himmel's life when the resistance finds him badly wounded after his brother-in-law's attempt on his life; he also brings him books to read to try to sabotage his brother-in-law's work. The servant works in Schavitz's castle and she and Udo Eisen share a casual relationship; they're both lonely and invisible and all she has to do is smile at him. There'll be more about them later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding their designs, well, the doc has glasses, and the servant is meant to be quite plain.

TUMBLR EDIT: Individual entries for both characters.

Unnamed Servant appears in an adult WIP featuring General Schavitz and the nasty things he gets up to during the war. Sgt. Eisen, his dutiful chauffeur, gets stuck with the job of "fixer" after witnessing Schavitz accidentally kill one of his (teenage) romantic partners; unwilling to become the next victim, he hastily offers to handle the incident so it doesn't come back to Schavitz. And he does so, admirably. Eisen isn't really a bad person at heart--he sympathizes with the girls Schavitz keeps bringing home, even as he helps him procure them--plus he deeply despises his boss, and often daydreams about killing him, himself. He just really will do anything it takes to stay alive, and that means doing some really reprehensible stuff...like disposing of a body in the river behind the castle, and paying off the unhappy girls who are lucky to live.

Result of all this is that Eisen struggles with a great deal of guilt and loneliness, due also to his isolation at the castle and lack of any intimate social contacts whatsoever. The castle--which, it's rumored, Schavitz obtained from a Jewish family which abruptly, and mysteriously, disappeared--maintains a skeleton staff of maids, butlers, and various sorts of servants, though they're all just about as miserable and misused as is Eisen. He pities the younger, prettier maids, especially, knowing that Schavitz takes advantage of them whenever the mood strikes, and Schavitz's moods are very unpredictable--stand up to him and he might laugh, or he might strangle you to death. So, pretty much everyone is terrorized by him, and constantly on edge. Everything is about merely staying alive and on Schavitz's good side; there's no time or place for friendships.

Eisen just happens across an exception to this rule when he finds himself bored and needing a distraction one night:

Aside from the maids, there was another woman who helped keep the castle in basic order, reshelving books when they were left out, returning art and decorative objects when they were misplaced, washing and dusting and arranging the more delicate objects Schavitz didn't trust the young maids to handle. She was older than they were, perhaps even a little older than Eisen himself, and quite plain looking, thin and shapeless in her loose, dowdy sweaters and skirts, her graying hair kept tied in a tight bun, a perpetually weary look on her face, the way Eisen figured he himself must look. She wasn't beautiful. She attracted no one else's eye. No one really noticed her as she moved silently about the castle like a ghost. She was childless, unmarried, so perhaps no one had ever noticed her.

Eisen had noticed her, one gloomy afternoon, when he'd stepped into the library seeking a particular book with which to distract himself. She'd smiled at him. Those otherwise weary brown eyes were the warmest, kindest thing he'd seen in years. He wasn't sure his heart could do a flip anymore but in that moment it sure felt like it had.

She'd easily located the book for him. He was too distracted to be distracted by the book, though...

Eisen and this unnamed servant manage to find a tenuous connection even amidst all the castle's misery. They're both invisible, unnoticed, unwanted, and painfully lonely. No wonder all it takes is a smile for Eisen to fall for her, and she obviously feels the same. They actually go quite a while without doing the deed, content just to kiss and hold each other since they've never even experienced that much, at least in a manner that was wanted. They also keep their relationship discreet, as, if Schavitz were to find out, he'd surely pull some sort of nastiness, just to amuse himself...that's simply the kind of person he is.

Eisen doesn't survive the story--neither does Schavitz. When word reaches Castle Schavitz of his death at the hands of Trench Rat Gold, the castle staff are at first in disbelief. Schavitz just seemed so powerful and corrupt as to be beyond death's reach. Eisen steps forward to ask the officials who arrive with the news if it's true, is he really gone? It's assumed that Eisen is devastated by the news, as he always served Schavitz so faithfully. The officials confirm Schavitz's death, at which Eisen draws himself up, swallowing hard, and claims that he has a statement to make. He then gives his name and rank, admits his complicity in covering up Schavitz's crimes...and unleashes a deluge of increasingly more horrifying accusations against the deceased general. Everyone just stands there, mute, eyes goggling at the sheer depravity of it all. Eisen literally knows where all the bodies are buried, and he gives EVERY detail, including where to find bits of evidence he held on to as insurance. He might be loyal, but he's not stupid.

Most astonishing of all, however, is the final charge he makes against his late boss. He mentions Schavitz's attempt to apply to join the SS, and his fury at being denied--a possible trigger for his violent behavior and drunken rages. Eisen got a look at Schavitz's genealogical papers, now locked away in a safe, and figured out why the SS turned him down, as well as why they acted with an extreme amount of grace yet Schavitz still raged and insisted they must be lying. Schavitz's own copy of his family tree has been altered; the SS had a genuine copy. Schavitz's parents, as named in his copy, are not his actual parents; turns out he was adopted. From a Jewish family. Schavitz was 100% Jewish.

Eisen tells the officials the location of the safe where this evidence may be found, as well as how to open it. He again takes responsibility for his own actions, and apologizes for everyone he's hurt. And before anyone can stop him, he pulls out his gun and shoots himself in the head, dying instantly.

After a few shocked, frantic moments spent cursing and yelling and trying to revive Eisen, the officials go looking. The safe and Schavitz's personal papers are found. As well as the evidence Eisen kept hold of. Everything is exactly as he claimed, and the SS confirms their role in the bizarre story; Schavitz escaped incarceration and possible execution only because of his importance and social influence. He died, however, genuinely believing he was a good Aryan and that the SS had maligned him.

Eisen is given a perfunctory, unglamorous burial. No mourners. He entered the world invisible and insignificant; he leaves it, despite his last-minute effort to set things right, the same way. Nobody really misses him when he's gone.

...Well, with one main exception. Even though their relationship had been by necessity kept rather casual, he and the servant lady had genuinely been fond of each other, and at least to themselves, entertained vague thoughts that maybe, if/when the war was over, just maybe they could be together. They never really got to know much about each other, but they were the only dim light in each other's dreary life, and that counted for something. When she learns of Eisen's death the servant lady retreats to her room to weep to herself. Schavitz is gone, the war is drawing to an end, hope for something better is finally on the horizon, yet Eisen won't be a part of it. After spending his entire life doing so many unsavory things just to stay alive, at the last, he decided that to keep living was no longer worth it. She doesn't blame him for his decision, though she wishes she could have been reason enough for him to stay. She wishes he would have reached out to her again.

I don't know what becomes of her after the war, though I don't imagine her ever finding anyone else. She and Eisen were the only ones who really saw each other as worthy of love.

[Unnamed Servant 2024 [‎Friday, ‎December ‎27, ‎2024, ‏‎12:01:07 AM]]

[moorefirm]

When Should You Hire a Nashville Business Law Attorney

Every person who wants to start and run a business understands that it is going to be challenging but legal issues make it overwhelming. Choosing the right legal advice is crucial whether you are creating a new LLC or growing your business. A Nashville business law attorney can help you manage these issues and make sure your business is both legal and safeguarded. However, one question remains: when is the right time to hire an agency?

During LLC Formation

The most strategic time to seek the services of a business attorney for LLC is when the formation process is being done. Starting an LLC is less complicated than forming a corporation but it includes more than signing on a document. What you need is a comprehensive operating agreement, legal papers, and a working compliance with the laws of the particular state. An LLC formation attorney makes sure that everything is in line and that the legal formation and liability protection is perfect. If you are not so lucky to get professional advice, you may run into problems in the future that could have been avoided. The formation of an LLC attorney will ensure that you are at the right legal standing when you are starting your business.

When Drafting Contracts

Contracts are an important component of the company and its functioning. Of course this is true for employee agreements, contractor agreements, and business partners’ agreements as well. Every piece of text has to be precise and enforceable. A Nashville business lawyer can also draw up, assess, and discuss contracts for and on your behalf to guard your interests. Even if you do not need legal advice when signing an agreement, you may enter unfavorable conditions that are not good for your business or that could create conflict in the future. An experienced business lawyer Nashville will advise you on how to draft sound and watertight contracts that will save you from a lot of legal trouble.

When Expanding or Merging Your Business

While starting a business, the owner may not know or has little concern of the legal aspects affecting the business but as the business progresses its legal requirements evolve as well. Venturing into new markets, acquiring a new partner or even obtaining assets can be accompanied by a variety of legal risks. Financing is an important aspect of growth, and a small business attorney Nashville TN can help you to understand all these policies in order to avoid violating any law. Acquisitions are even more complicated in terms of partnership agreements and taxes, which makes this process easier with the help of Nashville business law attorneys.

When Facing Legal Disputes

Not that the management or the owners of the business mind, but in any business entity disagreements occur. These may be problems concerning employees, contractual questions, or controversies with the commercial associates. When this occurs it’s important to have a Nashville Business Law attorney on your side of the fence. It is wise to consult a lawyer, and he can solve the problem within a short period with or without taking the matter to court. Depending on the law, it is often worse to try to deal with legal matters on your own, so it is wise to hire a competent lawyer when you have conflicts.

Conclusion

It is recommended that any business consider getting the services of a Nashville business attorney as soon as possible in order to avoid the problems and expenses that come with litigation. Whether you are just starting with the formation of an LLC or already signing the contracts and dealing with potential controversies you need proper legal assistance in order to be successful as a business. Moore Firm’s Nashville business attorneys can help you at each step of the way as you start your business and chart your course. Contact us today and make sure your business is protected by law.

[vickyleao]

Boost Your Buzz Earnings: Tips for Referrals, Lucky Wheel Spins, and Farming

Most users of online platforms often find it challenging to maximize their earnings without sacrificing a significant amount of time or effort. Many times, the traditional ways of making money online — completing surveys, trading, or freelance work — can be overly time-consuming and yield inconsistent outcomes. The struggle is finding a method that is both engaging and rewarding while fitting into your busy schedule.

However, BUZZ provides a refreshing departure from these conventional methods. Through activities like referrals, lucky wheel spins, and farming, you can boost your earnings in a much more enjoyable and efficient way. This article will guide you through simple, yet effective tips to help maximize your potential on the BUZZ platform.

where you can bolster your Buzz earnings by engaging in a few rewarding activities like referrals, lucky wheel spins, and farming using TON blockchain. If you’ve been navigating the BUZZ platform and are eager to amplify your earnings, then you’re in the right place!

What is Buzz Telegram Mini-App?

Buzz Telegram Mini-App is a dynamic application integrated directly within Telegram, allowing users to automate a variety of tasks, manage communities, and even monetize their online presence. The tool is designed with simplicity in mind but is packed with powerful features to assist individuals and businesses in scaling their engagement and community interactions.

Try Buzz Telegram Bot Here

Key Benefits of Buzz Telegram Mini-App

Automated Community Management

Managing large Telegram groups or channels can be overwhelming, especially when they grow in size. Buzz Telegram Mini-App automates routine tasks such as welcoming new members, moderating conversations, and sharing announcements. This frees up time for admins to focus on more strategic aspects of community management.

Monetization Opportunities

With Buzz, you can transform your Telegram community into a revenue-generating platform. By using tools such as subscriptions, paid promotions, and other monetization models, Buzz helps you leverage the full potential of your audience without requiring third-party applications.

Customizable Features

The app offers a wide range of customizable features, including tailored commands and automated workflows. This flexibility ensures that the app can be adapted to fit any niche or specific community requirements, allowing for a personalized experience.

Increased Engagement

Buzz Telegram Mini-App helps increase user engagement by sending out timely notifications, running polls, and conducting surveys. It also enables easy content sharing, ensuring that your community remains active and involved.

Boosting Your Buzz Earnings: Proven Strategies

Making the Most of Referrals

Referrals are one of the most straightforward ways to increase your earnings on BUZZ. The key here is to be strategic about who you invite. Aim for friends, family, or colleagues who are likely to be interested in engaging with the platform.

Find Your Referral Link: Log into your BUZZ account and navigate to the “Referrals” section to obtain your unique referral link.

Share the Link: Share your referral link via social media, email, or direct messages. You can even post it in community groups you’re part of.

Monitor Your Progress: Keep track of how many people sign up using your link. The more active their engagement, the greater your reward!

Spinning the Lucky Wheel

The Lucky Wheel on the BUZZ platform is an exciting way to rack up points and rewards without much effort. Here’s how to make the most of it:

Daily Spins: Make it a habit to spin the Lucky Wheel daily. Regular participation increases your chances of winning significant rewards.

Special Events: Keep an eye out for special events or promotions that might offer additional spins or higher-value prizes.

Track Your Wins: Keep a record of your wins to identify patterns or times when the Lucky Wheel tends to be more generous.

Maximizing Farming Opportunities on BUZZ: Your Path to Growth and Abundance

Hey there, powerhouse! Ready to unlock your true potential and watch those Boosty Points soar? Farming on BUZZ is not just another task — it’s your golden ticket to consistent, rewarding progress. Let’s dive into how you can make the most of this incredible opportunity:

Access the Farming Section: All great journeys start with a single step. Log into your BUZZ account and glide over to the Farming section from the main menu. This is your gateway to a world of possibilities.

Choose Your Activity: Here’s where the magic happens. Browse through a variety of farming activities and pick one that resonates with your passions and aspirations. Choosing something that aligns with your interests keeps the journey exciting and fulfilling.

Start Farming: Ready to plant the seeds of success? Hit that “Farm” button! Carefully review the details, like rewards and requirements, and give yourself a confident nod of approval as you confirm and start your farming adventure.

Monitor and Adjust: Growth is a dynamic, ever-evolving journey. Keep an eye on your progress, celebrate the wins, and be fearless in tweaking your strategy. Whether it’s fine-tuning your approach or shifting gears, every adjustment you make is a step towards maximizing your rewards.

Remember, every Boosty Point earned represents growth, hustle, and your unrelenting pursuit of greatness. So, gear up, stay positive, and embrace the joy of progress. Together, let’s cultivate a future brimming with success and endless possibilities. 🚀🌟

Why Buzz is the Future of Telegram Automation

The simplicity of using Buzz lies in its seamless integration with Telegram. Unlike many standalone apps, you don’t have to leave the platform to access the features. Everything can be managed directly from your Telegram dashboard, making the workflow smooth and intuitive.

How to Get Started with Buzz Telegram Mini-App

Install the Bot: Visit the Buzz Bot and click “Start.”

Configure the Settings: Follow the prompts to customize the bot for your community needs.

Enjoy Automation: Watch as Buzz takes over the mundane tasks, leaving you more time to focus on growing your community.

For detailed documentation, check out the Buzz Docs and learn how to fully utilize all features.

Conclusion

Buzz Telegram Mini-App is a game-changer for anyone serious about managing or monetizing their Telegram community. With its comprehensive automation capabilities, customization, and monetization options, it’s the perfect tool for growing and managing a thriving online presence. Combined with strategic use of referrals, Lucky Wheel spins, and farming, you can significantly boost your BUZZ earnings and unlock a new layer of engagement and reward.

Official Link:

Buzz Bot: https://t.me/buzz_mine_bot Buzz Mini-App: https://t.me/buzz_mine_bot/buzz_app Docs: https://docs.buzz.tips/buzz TG Channel: https://t.me/Buzz_Official_Group Twitter: https://x.com/BuzzWeb3_

TON wallet: UQAX7mt7mOFU8eCwbr0bUMyv6cCwbILz1IFdqJS4HJ4ajzKy

[jfbuckley]

Something is rotten in the state of Manchester United.

It’s obvious to even the most casual observer that something is badly wrong within the team. Last season represented very satisfying progress: third in the league, winning a cup and getting to the final of another. It’s not upto the standards of the Fergie glory years, but it was a huge improvement on the dross of what has been seen since he finished.

How then has a team in a very promising state of development become so “bad” - almost overnight as it seems?

Obviously I do not attend training sessions, so I don’t have the answer. However, like all fans I am entitled to an opinion and I can clearly see the body language of certain players. My thoughts are therefore:

THE GLAZERS/ownership situation. The Glazers are the root of all the problems at Old Trafford, although my football correspondent would disagree. However, I think they are too far removed to be the immediate cause here.

INJURIES. Without question, the team has been very severely hit by injuries. Any team would suffer badly with this level of injuries. What doesn’t help is having ridiculously long, over rigorous pre-season tours all over the world. It also doesn’t help when we buy players who are already injured. However, a Manchester United team should play with pride and purpose whoever is injured: this one DOESN’T.

VAR - we were rather lucky when the penalty decision against Wolves went in our favour, but since then, every single VAR decision has been relentlessly against us. However, to blame VAR for all our ills would be childish.

RUSHFORD. Here we come to the crux of the problem. He received a very big new contract, and as soon as he received it, his play has gone back to the standards of the season before last. It is obvious just from looking at match photos that he really is NOT enjoying his job at the moment. The critics are piling on to him for being greedy, never passing the ball. The fans are calling for him to be dropped. He is clearly a very unhappy young man, and the malaise has obviously spread to the rest of the team.

A football team is like an office: if one person is miserable, they can become a “wet blanket” and this very soon effects the morale of the rest of the office/team. Something is wrong with Rushford, and until the manager sorts it out, I don’t think things will get better. My guess is that Rushford is NOT deliberately playing badly, he is NOT being deliberately greedy, he is NOT being deliberately moody: but SOMETHING is definitely wrong with him.

It could be literally anything, but my guess is that he is upset about how his friend Sancho is being treated. I’m afraid the only solution for this is for him to wake up and smell the coffee: Ten Hag was naive and unwise to have said what he did at the press conference, but Sancho should not have done what he did, and in my opinion he should not play for the club again. If this is indeed the reason for Rushford’s mood, then I think it would be best for all concerned if both of them were to leave the club.

Anyhow, there is confirmation of a sort for my theory. On Tuesday we played Crystal Palace in the Carabao Cup. A number of regular starters (on both sides) didn’t play. United played some keen youngsters, who did very well. On Saturday the regulars returned - and with what might be said to be predictable results.

My football correspondent was at the match and sends me his usual no holds barred honest account of the farrago.

hi - my mood was boosted on saturday morning as i had managed to obtain a ticket for next saturdays game v brentford which is another 3pm kick off

on the other hand watching united this season has not been particularly entertaining - last week they ground out a win at burnley thanks to some inspiration by bruno and the midweek 3 - 0 cup win was against palace's reserves

united had plenty of possession at the start but did little with it - build up was slow and palace seemed dangerous on the break as instanced by guehi heading wide from a promising position - after 25 minutes a couple of mistakes by united led to a free kick for palace on their right wing - eze swung it in and it travelled to the far edge of the box where the unmarked andersen smashed the ball into the net - for the 3rd home game in a row united had conceded the first goal - united responded with hojlund having a shot cleared off the line and casemiro firing just wide but they trailed at half time

2nd half united again monopolised possession without much effect - johnstone fisted over a bruno effort and parried a hojlund header - garnacho pulled a ball back from the byeline - it evaded united players and rolled across the 6 yard box - dalot crossed from the right and the ball was cleared underneath the bar at the far post - mount headed over - it sounds exciting but these were rare moments on a frustrating afternoon - by the end van de beek and maguire came on in a desperate move by ten hag but palace's doughty well organised defence held out for victory

so it is now 2 successive league defeats at home and 4 defeats out of 7 overall - a pretty bad start - performance wise it wasn't great - no one was that good - no one was that bad - all were just bang average - a pundit opined that the key to success against united is to let united have the ball because they don't know what to do with it - then counter attack united and there's every chance you'll nick a goal from a set piece or a united mistake

last season rashford got lots of goals and many times united won 2 - 0 or 2 - 1 - this year rashford has just the 1 goal - not all his fault but him and united don't seem the same - fans will hope united and rashford find form soon or it will be a very long season indeed

as you can imagine my mood was less than buoyant as i made my way home and the rain got heavier and heavier and ...........

bye

[folkloristico]

I have mixed feelings about this because thinking about it, I find the way fairies can gain Enchantix kinda… dumb? Don’t get me wrong, I love Enchantix, its popularity within the fandom is 100% deserved in my opinion—the aesthetic, the songs, everything about it is gold—but the way it’s obtained? Not so much.

Now, Bloom’s situation is peculiar. It doesn’t happen every day that a whole planet gets swept out of existence with no one left (though I find it hard to believe there wasn’t a single inhabitant from Domino who wasn’t on the planet when it got “destroyed”), you could say the issue of being the last of your kind is close to non-existent. But what if a fairy never gets the chance to save a person from her world? Does she just wait for a person from her home planet to be in danger?

Theoretically speaking, I like the idea of Bloom obtaining Enchantix through willpower. I dare say Bloom is the one who puts the more work in as she goes to Pyros to train. Of course, it’s undeniable that the other Winx showed a great amount of courage and altruism, but it’s rather convenient that these situations of danger presented themselves when the girls needed to upgrade their powers. What if they didn’t get the chance to? What if a fairy isn’t “lucky” enough to find herself in this situation, ever?

Back to Bloom, it’s fair to recognize that Enchantix wasn’t exactly handed to her on a plate as she had to work for it both through mental and physical training. But then again, the established rules are broken just for her. The way I see it, it’s an attempt at making her look more unique and special compared to others. Now, as much as I wish we got more from the Domino storyline instead of being basically tossed aside after season 3 to only be addressed in the movies, I think they stressed too much the “last of her people” situation by creating unnecessary drama.

In the end Bloom still manages to get her Enchantix, but it’s uncomplete. Again, unfair. But still—what was the point of that? She’s supposed to gain it full power when she manages to save her birth parents, but she doesn’t really do that, does she? In SotLK, it’s Sky fulfilling the prophecy. After that, the big drama surrounding Enchantix feels like a waste of time considering Enchantix is never acknowledged again as it’s replaced shortly after with Believix in season 4.

So yeah, I actually like the way Bloom gains her Enchantix, but something about the general context of it just doesn’t make much sense to me.

[throwaway-yandere]

Vision Qualifications (Yandere!Alhaitham/Reader)

A/n: Another light yan!fic. I think. Slight rom-com vibes on this one(?) Here's a short Alhaitham fic! Can't wait for more archon quests!! (This is the first time in a long time I'm testing the schedule feature tumblr pls work–)

gn!reader

Cw: yandere. some details are based on both questionable & reliable tagged leaks from the r/genshin_impact_leaks subreddit (hxg_diluc, BLANK, etc.) and a bulletin board dialogue. (It shouldn't spoil anything quest related, just character relationships). For the sake of the plot (lol), the archons have an influence when it comes to giving people visions (even if it's just a small and nearly insignificant influence.)

----------

You hate Alhaitham.

The grand scribe is on your case at all times since you willingly dropped out of the Akademiya. Every time you and Alhaitham share a room, he will always make the conversation about him and the collaborations you two could achieve as a unit. He saw you as a wasted potential– you saw him as a walking migraine. You hate how he's involved– no, more accurately– you hate how he's the REASON you gained a vision. 

On one uneventful evening at a coffee shop, you and Alhaitham were both chatting about the mundane. It was around the time you thought more highly of him compared to public opinion. While others saw him as a lunatic, you thought of him as a misunderstood genius. You advocate for researcher autonomy as much as he does, so it's to no one's surprise that you two were close at one point

That connection, however, was shattered when he managed to steer the subject to talk about gaining visions and what you would, potentially, receive. He believed your vision would be dendro, similar to his, while you insisted that most Geo vision users' philosophies resonated more closely with your values.

He had no idea that obtaining a geo vision was your longtime ambition. And perhaps you had unknowingly disparaged dendro users when you were making your point, because good riddance, it became a heated argument. It turned personal somewhere along the lines until you ended up blabbering irrational insults while he crossed his arms and periodically quipped a remark or two. He doesn't yell or press when proving his point, but his limited replies were more than scathing.

Alhaitham made it sound like he would grant you a dendro vision. He talked as if receiving a dendro vision is a SUPERIOR blessing compared to geo.

You just can't stand that.  

Neither of you agreed to disagree, therefore you didn't make contact for an excruciating week. Surprisingly, it was Kaveh who intervened. Whatever pent-up frustration the architect had must've been used as a motivator for him to lock you and his housemate inside your bedroom. Lucky for you, you had prepared a presentation that would demolish Alhaitham's rebuttals.

You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take, and you were proud to say that you did not let this one slide. 

You had a presentation titled "WHY (Y/N) (L/N) WOULD BENEFIT RECEIVING A GEO VISION MORE THAN A DENDRO VISION". Admittedly, it's not the most thought-out name out there, but you managed to force him to sit through all the slides for at least half an hour. You did not back down one step and passionately explained your theory. It was one of the rare scenes where Alhaitham did not speak a word in the middle of a presentation. Instead, he admired the way you carried yourself with professional confidence inside such a dainty and cluttered room. 

That was the moment Alhaitham became extraordinarily determined to see you develop your talents.

By the time you were finished, you were out of breath. And Alhaitham happily clapped for your skill and effort. Well, that was what you thought he was clapping for in a brief second.

And not the new dendro vision on top of your desk.

"Congratulations, Mx. (L/n), for Celestia have granted you a dendro vision."

His voice grated your ears, and his words stung even more. Alhaitham might as well say "Congratulations, you've played yourself." and the bluntness would've hurt less.

Why did Celestia grant you a vision when you were spouting nonsense about something so incorrect? Was it to prove a point? Isn't the land of Sumeru supposed to be about wisdom and not utter bullshit? Did the puppeteers above think it'd be hilarious? 

Well, you didn't. You didn't think it was funny at all.

The first two months were agonizingly nihilistic, and to say you "only" contemplated your life's purpose would be an understatement of your obsessive thoughts. It didn't help that Alhaitham was trying to redirect your attention to other academic courses that suited the "gift" you received. He urges you to pursue a post in the Haravatat yet failed to recognize that such musings are not appropriate for someone whose aspirations had recently been crushed.

Unlike Tighnari, who wished for a dendro vision as a child for trivial reasons like reaching high-hanging fruit, you abandoned previous ambitions as a teenager and aspired to be a civil engineer—and geo constructs would be a better fit for creating roads.

A geo vision would help you create foundations of land.

A geo vision would help you finally cover up the large mountain hole your childhood friend fell and died on.

And so, you quit the Akademiya.

Figuratively, you're one foot on Teyvat and one foot on the gates of the Abyss at this rate. But in reality, you find yourself pacing your footsteps faster to avoid the conversation that will inevitably follow in your visit to the public library.

"Good evening, (Y/n)."

You ignored him.

"I see you're carrying quite a handful. Do you want my assistance?"

No reply. 

The only indicator that Alhaitham is behind you is his voice. You rarely catch on that people are talking about him when they only describe his appearance, and it's worrying how you remember him via hatred and his voice alone. Out of spite, you might even forget how he looks in under a week if he didn't show up every day. 

He believes that speculation is correct, thus he applies himself continually in your private affairs. Alhaitham takes solace in the fact that people like listening to him speak (and not much the meaning of what he says.) So, he secretly hopes that you like the sound of his voice as well.

No one sat at your favorite table today. You stacked the books on top of one another. One of the researchers flinched at your movements, clearly reading your anger while Alhaitham's head naively hovers above your shoulder. You shuddered as his breath softly brushed against your ear.

He's been pushing your buttons ever since your mother invited him for dinner.

"Principles Of Igneous and Metamorphic Petrology, again? How long will you ignore your dendro vision? You should move on by now."

He made a habit of poking into the hornet's nest, and it is quite a notoriously bad habit. The basically-library-resident researchers braced themselves for the cold banter that will soon follow.

If Kaveh's incredibly verbose dislike for Alhaitham is considered normal, then you are a man of few words.

"For a grand scribe, you seem to be awfully free. Perhaps it is a sign that you are a mere decoration for Khajeh and the rest of the Haravatat. Best you keep that in mind." You spat.

He hummed. You've never heard the strictly rational man laugh, so you considered his little hums as his way of letting you know he's mildly entertained by your retorts.

"It's not that I'm free; I just allotted some time for you. If you're suggesting that I should do my work, I'm afraid there's no can do. I know you value your personal space above all else, but my motivations do not align with yours. A major shame."

You know that. He treats you better than most people and acknowledging that fact irks you. You know that Alhaitham works harder than most, but Natlan would freeze before you would become his apprentice. Why can't he just take a hint that you're so close to punching him?

"May I suggest that you do something more productive?"

Not that you have any say on what is "productive." Even Tighnari thinks you're wasting your talents when you could be employed at the Akademiya, and that man lives in the rainforest to avoid the sages.

Alhaitham pulled out a chair and sat beside you.

"Building rapport is a productive activity."

"And are you making progress?" You asked nonchalantly as if it didn't concern you. He tilted his head. You can't focus on your work with him sitting beside you, and hopefully, if you picked your words right he'd go away.

"Yes." He said. "You can recognize me by my voice without problems now. I'm certain that alone is one step towards my goal."

Does he think he's actually making progress??? Well, isn't he dense. No wonder Kaveh hates his guts. And besides, his progress isn't noteworthy. If your family didn't like him and dragged him almost everywhere, you'll simply discard his voice as another background noise. Remembering what he sounds like is born out of a bare minimum effort to prevent your mother from scolding you. You'd rather skip her vain lecture about his appearance and status— you can't even picture him without wanting to stab something.

You sighed.

You should've listened to Kaveh's warnings. Alhaitham, is indeed, a stubborn and unreasonable person.

What even is his goal anyways? Study ancient runes under his mentorship? You'd rather turn to dust yourself than get stuck in a cave filled with those sentient and violent machinations.

You took a deep breath.

For the sake of the crunch-time researchers around you, you decided to be more complacent, just for today.

"Alhaitham."

You both shared a steely gaze. 

You nearly forgot that he has blue-orange eyes.

"Yes?"

"If you're just going to stand there, would you mind doing me a favor?" Instead of being a hindrance, is what you wanted to add, but he's more influential than a university dropout like you. It's not the right setting to say such things, knowing that Akademiya stuck-ups– scholars are nearby.

He smiled. 

Alhaitham's stern face looks almost kind when he smiles.

You'll remember that. But you're still hoping you'll forget the look on his face once the sun sets. His smile is probably his best asset. You bet all your mora that he used that to win your mother over.

"Of course, anything."

You missed the way his stare softened when he said "anything", and you especially didn't notice the low rumble of his voice. Your hands were too busy fishing out a wallet from your pockets instead of realizing the devoted risks the scribe might pose later on. 

"Would you mind buying two masala dosas with coconut chutney? Doesn't matter where you buy it. Get it in Port Ormos or Snezhnaya for all I care."

He nodded.

You counted your coins. Quite frankly, you don't know why you asked for food, but he seemed eager to help. Even though he's probably aware that your intention was just to send him away.

"Thanks, much appreciated. Here's the mor– Alhaitham?"

He's gone.

You cursed under your breath. Did he decide not to do it after all or did he go to a shop without mora? Either way, both answers are annoying.

At least he's gone, for now.

You flipped your book open.

Time to relearn the basics of petrology.

--------

This wasn't the first time General Mahamatra entered the public library, and knowing that you love to frequent the location, he knew it wouldn't be the last.

Unlike your peers, Cyno doesn't think that you're acting petty towards Alhaitham. Especially when he saw you making a conscious effort not to stare at Alhaitham's face. He had never seen such a stubborn person look visibly uncomfortable. As cool as it would be to say he knows something is wrong because of his intuition, that's not what prompted Cyno to feel this way. He trusted you most because you submitted a well-written and detailed report about the grand scribe's behavior last night. 

Most would believe that you needn't go that far had they known what you did. However, based on what Cyno observes, Alhaitham is far from harmless. He almost felt sorry for him. Almost. But after some investigation, he began to understand why you are acting aggressively towards him.

Admittedly, he might be biased. Alhaitham's relationship with Cyno isn't cordial and the general doubted that it would improve after this visit.

It normally does not end well if an Akademiya researcher is being tailed by the General Mahamatra, much more if the target is of a higher position. With him, disciplinary actions are cutthroat and soul-crushing. Fortunately for the grand scribe, he will only receive a warning.

The general stood by the door.

"Alhaitham."

Cyno blocked Alhaitham's way. He would've pretended not to hear him and leave had the general not done so. Alhaitham gave him a blank yet annoyed look.

"General Mahamatra." He groaned, albeit in a muffled manner.

Despite his irritated tone, Alhaitham was looking forward to this occasion. He was eager to meet Cyno, and addressing him by title served a purpose. It's to remind Cyno that if Alhaitham hadn't declined the job offer, Cyno would not have had his prized occupation.

The general kept blocking the door. His auburn eyes looked at you from a distance. Alhaitham did not miss the way the white-haired man blinked and huffed in exasperation.

"They're just..."

"Trying to get me to leave? I'm well aware of that."

"Then why?"

"Because they asked for my help."

Cyno fell silent. He refused to move away despite being speechless. 

"(Y/n) doesn't view you in a romantic manner." That completely came out of the left field, yet the scribe didn't acknowledge his lack of tact.

"But I do."

People who proudly proclaim their affections are rare and admirable, but Cyno would never extend these compliments to a "lunatic" like Alhaitham.

Still, Cyno can't believe Alhaitham smiled for you.

"Are they aware of that fact?"

"They will be. It is not as if I hid it." 

Cyno's vision gleamed.

"Are they also aware that you've used a knowledge capsule pertaining to the Clinical and Forensic Perspectives on the Psychology of Stalking?"

...

Alhaitham's eye twitched for a brief moment.

So, that is what this visit was all about.

Both Alhaitham and Cyno have comparable prominence and accumulated respect from their roles inside Sumeru. If the general took this approach instead of a formal warrant, then he not only lacked evidence, but he's hoping to pry more off his hands.

He didn't have anything concrete to show that the empty capsule had something to do with you. General Cyno is a patient man, and it just so happened that Alhaitham is almost as collected as he is.

Cyno stepped forward. "Grand Scribe, the law is just, and I refuse to let the guilty run free. I'm sure (Y/n) only asked for two crepes instead of three."

"..."

He's obnoxious.

"Did you not get the joke? I thought the rhyme was quite clever. (Y/n) asked for two dosas, and you're acting like a creep, and dosas are crepes–"

"That information is outdated. The food 'dosa' is now more commonly referred to as a type of pancake by the Akademiya's Culinary Department." Alhaitham deadpanned.

Cyno waved his hand, not at all bothered at how people brushed off his jokes easily, hence he's unsurprised at how well Alhaitham took it.

"You're intelligent, so heed this warning earnestly. Once you cross a line, you will learn to take responsibility for your emotions and actions. I'll be there to see it through." Cyno said.

What a strange threat. 

"You think my actions are fueled by emotions?" Alhaitham chuckled softly. "That might be the first time someone described me as an unstable and emotional individual. People often regard me as someone with unbearable rationalism"

He placed a hand on Cyno's shoulder. 

"Thank you. Noted. Now move."

The general glared up at him before he reluctantly stepped aside. There's nothing else to be done. Cyno walked towards you instead.

From the way he stared, the scribe can tell he's fond of you as well.

Alhaitham pities him. Because no matter how much effort Cyno puts into tracking his dirty deeds down, he would be "too late" at best and ignorant at worst. It doesn't matter who it is, not even you could get rid of the grand scribe. Alhaitham decided that grey and green are the colors that fit you best. He already established himself as an essential piece of your puzzle despite not fitting perfectly. After Inazuma's faulty decrees, everyone knew what happens if you part with your vision for too long. And he suspects you'd act just as clueless, helpless, and feeble without him by your side.

Besides, how could you say no, when it was "Celestia" that willed your future apprenticeship into existence?

"Two masala dosas with coconut chutney. They're barely aware that they've grown hungry after studying past the recommended duration. (Y/n), what would you do without me?" He happily chided in his usual strict tone as he walked to the nearest stall. 

But he can't afford to be lax for too long, no matter how much he wants to spend his time in your wonderful company. He must not lose sight of the reasons why his initiatives were successful in the first place.

Perhaps Alhaitham might pay a visit to his old friend's place. Spending their time reminiscing and drinking a nice cup of tea is the least he could do to show his appreciation. After all, if his good friend hadn't tampered with Celestia's intentions, Alhaitham wouldn't have been able to influence the type of vision you would have received.

---

"--When are you going to be off work? I've heard that Wangshu Inn would be a little quiet this season. Morax, would you like to come with me? I have several stories you might be interested to hear about."

A/n: here's part two if you're curious!