#none earth with south new zealand

[crystalis]

twitter thread by Mouin Rabbani

March 14, 2024

Who was there first? The short answer is that the question is irrelevant. Claims of ancient title (“This land is ours because we were here several thousand years ago”) have no standing or validity under international law.

For good reason, because such claims also defy elementary common sense. Neither I nor anyone reading this post can convincingly substantiate the geographical location of their direct ancestors ten or five or even two thousand years ago.

If we could, the successful completion of the exercise would confer exactly zero property, territorial, or sovereign rights.

As a thought experiment, let’s go back only a few centuries rather than multiple millennia. Do South Africa’s Afrikaners have the right to claim The Netherlands as their homeland, or even qualify for Dutch citizenship, on the basis of their lineage?

Do the descendants of African-Americans who were forcibly removed from West Africa have the right to board a flight in Atlanta, Port-au-Prince, or São Paolo and reclaim their ancestral villages from the current inhabitants, who in all probability arrived only after – perhaps long after – the previous inhabitants were abducted and sold into slavery half a world away?

Do Australians who can trace their roots to convicts who were involuntarily transported Down Under by the British government have a right to return to Britain or Ireland and repossess homes from the present inhabitants even if, with the help of court records, they can identify the exact address inhabited by their forebears? Of course not.

In sharp contrast to, for example, Native Americans or the Maori of New Zealand, none of the above can demonstrate a living connection with the lands to which they would lay claim.

To put it crudely, neither nostalgic attachment nor ancestry, in and of themselves, confer rights of any sort, particularly where such rights have not been asserted over the course of hundreds or thousands of years.

If they did, American English would be the predominant language in large parts of Europe, and Spain would once again be speaking Arabic.

Nevertheless, the claim of ancient title has been and remains central to Zionist assertions of not only Jewish rights in Palestine, but of an exclusive Jewish right to Palestine.

For the sake of argument, let’s examine it. If we put aside religious mythology, the origin of the ancient Israelites is indeed local.

In ancient times it was not unusual for those in conflict with authority or marginalized by it to take to the more secure environment of surrounding hills or mountains, conquer existing settlements or establish new ones, and in the ultimate sign of independence adopt distinct religious practices and generate their own rulers. That the Israelites originated as indigenous Canaanite tribes rather than as fully-fledged monotheistic immigrants or conquerors is more or less the scholarly consensus, buttressed by archeological and other evidence. And buttressed by the absence of evidence for the origin stories more familiar to us.

It is also the scholarly consensus that the Israelites established two kingdoms, Judah and Israel, the former landlocked and covering Jerusalem and regions to the south, the latter (also known as the Northern Kingdom or Samaria) encompassing points north, the Galilee, and parts of contemporary Jordan. Whether these entities were preceded by a United Kingdom that subsequently fractured remains the subject of fierce debate.

What is certain is that the ancient Israelites were never a significant regional power, let alone the superpower of the modern imagination.

There is a reason the great empires of the Middle East emerged in Egypt, Mesopotamia, Persia, and Anatolia – or from outside the region altogether – but never in Palestine.

It simply lacked the population and resource base for power projection. Jerusalem may be the holiest of cities on earth, but for almost the entirety of its existence, including the period in question, it existed as a village, provincial town or small city rather than metropolis.

Judah and Israel, like the neighboring Canaanite and Philistine entities during this period, were for most of their existence vassal states, their fealty and tribute fought over by rival empires – Egyptians, Assyrians, Babylonians, etc. – rather than extracted from others.

Indeed, Israel was destroyed during the eighth century BCE by the Assyrians, who for good measured subordinated Judah to their authority, until it was in the sixth century BCE eliminated by the Babylonians, who had earlier overtaken the Assyrians in a regional power struggle.

The Babylonian Exile was not a wholesale deportation, but rather affected primarily Judah’s elites and their kin. Nor was there a collective return to the homeland when the opportunity arose several decades later after Cyrus the Great defeated Babylon and re-established a smaller Judah as a province of the Persian Achaemenid empire. Indeed, Mesopotamia would remain a key center of Jewish religion and culture for centuries afterwards.

Zionist claims of ancient title conveniently erase the reality that the ancient Israelites were hardly the only inhabitants of ancient Palestine, but rather shared it with Canaanites, Philistines, and others.

The second part of the claim, that the Jewish population was forcibly expelled by the Romans and has for 2,000 years been consumed with the desire to return, is equally problematic.

By the time the Romans conquered Jerusalem during the first century BCE, established Jewish communities were already to be found throughout the Mediterranean world and Middle East – to the extent that a number of scholars have concluded that a majority of Jews already lived in the diaspora by the time the first Roman soldier set foot in Jerusalem.

These communities held a deep attachment to Jerusalem, its Temple, and the lands recounted in the Bible. They identified as diasporic communities, and in many cases may additionally have been able to trace their origins to this or that town or village in the extinguished kingdoms of Israel and Judah. But there is no indication those born and bred in the diaspora across multiple generations considered themselves to be living in temporary exile or considered the territory of the former Israelite kingdoms rather than their lands of birth and residence their natural homeland, any more than Irish-Americans today feel they properly belong in Ireland rather than the United States.

Unlike those taken in captivity to Babylon centuries earlier, there was no impediment to their relocation to or from their ancestral lands, although economic factors appear to have played an important role in the growth of the diaspora.

By contrast, those traveling in the opposite direction appear to have done so, more often than not, for religious reasons, or to be buried in Jerusalem’s sacred soil.

Nations and nationalism did not exist 2,000 years ago.

Nor Zionist propagandists in New York, Paris, and London incessantly proclaiming that for two millennia Jews everywhere have wanted nothing more than to return their homeland, and invariably driving home rather than taking the next flight to Tel Aviv.

Nor insufferably loud Americans declaring, without a hint of irony or self-awareness, the right of the Jewish people to Palestine “because they were there first”.

Back to the Romans, about a century after their arrival a series of Jewish rebellions over the course of several decades, coupled with internecine warfare between various Jewish factions, produced devastating results.

A large proportion of the Jewish population was killed in battle, massacred, sold into slavery, or exiled. Many towns and villages were ransacked, the Temple in Jerusalem destroyed, and Jews barred from entering the city for all but one day a year.

Although a significant Jewish presence remained, primarily in the Galilee, the killings, associated deaths from disease and destitution, and expulsions during the Roman-Jewish wars exacted a calamitous toll.

With the destruction of the Temple Jerusalem became an increasingly spiritual rather than physical center of Jewish life. Jews neither formed a demographic majority in Palestine, nor were the majority of Jews to be found there.

Many of those who remained would in subsequent centuries convert to Christianity or Islam, succumb to massacres during the Crusades, or join the diaspora. On the eve of Zionist colonization locally-born Jews constituted less than five per cent of the total population.

As for the burning desire to return to Zion, there is precious little evidence to substantiate it. There is, for example, no evidence that upon their expulsion from Spain during the late fifteenth century, the Sephardic Jewish community, many of whom were given refuge by the Ottoman Empire that ruled Palestine, made concerted efforts to head for Jerusalem. Rather, most opted for Istanbul and Greece.

Similarly, during the massive migration of Jews fleeing persecution and poverty in Eastern Europe during the nineteenth century, the destinations of choice were the United States and United Kingdom.

Even after the Zionist movement began a concerted campaign to encourage Jewish emigration to Palestine, less than five per cent took up the offer. And while the British are to this day condemned for limiting Jewish immigration to Palestine during the late 1930s, the more pertinent reality is that the vast majority of those fleeing the Nazi menace once again preferred to relocate to the US and UK, but were deprived of these havens because Washington and London firmly slammed their doors shut.

Tellingly, the Jewish Agency for Israel in 2023 reported that of the world’s 15.7 million Jews, 7.2 million – less than half – reside in Israel and the occupied Palestinian territories.

According to the Agency, “The Jewish population numbers refer to persons who define themselves as Jews by religion or otherwise and who do not practice another religion”.

It further notes that if instead of religion one were to apply Israel’s Law of Return, under which any individual with one or more Jewish grandparent is entitled to Israeli citizenship, only 7.2 of 25.5 million eligible individuals (28 per cent) have opted for Zion.

In other words, “Next Year in Jerusalem” was, and largely remains, an aspirational religious incantation rather than political program. For religious Jews, furthermore, it was to result from divine rather than human intervention.

For this reason, many equated Zionism with blasphemy, and until quite recently most Orthodox Jews were either non-Zionist or rejected the ideology altogether.

Returning to the irrelevant issue of ancestry, if there is one population group that can lay a viable claim of direct descent from the ancient Israelites it would be the Samaritans, who have inhabited the area around Mount Gerizim, near the West Bank city of Nablus, without interruption since ancient times.

Palestinian Jews would be next in line, although unlike the Samaritans they interacted more regularly with both other Jewish communities and their gentile neighbors.

Claims of Israelite descent made on behalf of Jewish diaspora communities are much more difficult to sustain. Conversions to and from Judaism, intermarriage with gentiles, absorption in multiple foreign societies, and related phenomena over the course of several thousand years make it a virtual certainty that the vast majority of Jews who arrived in Palestine during the late 19th and first half of the 20th century to reclaim their ancient homeland were in fact the first of their lineage to ever set foot in it.

By way of an admittedly imperfect analogy, most Levantines, Egyptians, Sudanese, and North Africans identify as Arabs, yet the percentage of those who can trace their roots to the tribes of the Arabian Peninsula that conquered their lands during the seventh and eighth centuries is at best rather small.

Ironically, a contemporary Palestinian, particularly in the West Bank and Galilee, is likely to have more Israelite ancestry than a contemporary diaspora Jew.

The Palestinians take their name from the Philistines, one of the so-called Sea Peoples who arrived on the southern coast of Canaan from the Aegean islands, probably Crete, during the late second millennium BCE.

They formed a number of city states, including Gaza, Ashdod, and Ashkelon. Like Judah and Israel they existed primarily as vassals of regional powers, and like them were eventually destroyed by more powerful states as well.

With no record of their extermination or expulsion, the Philistines are presumed to have been absorbed by the Canaanites and thereafter disappear from the historical record.

Sitting at the crossroads between Asia, Africa, and Europe, Palestine was over the centuries repeatedly conquered by empires near and far, absorbing a constant flow of human and cultural influences throughout.

Given its religious significance, pilgrims from around the globe also contributed to making the Palestinian people what they are today.

A common myth is that the Palestinian origin story dates from the Arab-Muslim conquests of the seventh century. In point of fact, the Arabs neither exterminated nor expelled the existing population, and the new rulers never formed a majority of the population.

Rather, and over the course of several centuries, the local population was gradually Arabized, and to a large extent Islamized as well.

So the question as to who was there first can be answered in several ways: “both” and “irrelevant” are equally correct.

Indisputably, the Zionist movement had no right to establish a sovereign state in Palestine on the basis of claims of ancient title, which was and remains its primary justification for doing so.

That it established an exclusivist state that not only rejected any rights for the existing Palestinian population but was from the very outset determined to displace and replace this population was and remains a historical travesty.

That it as a matter of legislation confers automatic citizenship on millions who have no existing connection with the land but denies it to those who were born there and expelled from it, solely on the basis of their identity, would appear to be the very definition of apartheid.

The above notwithstanding, and while the Zionist claim of exclusive Israeli sovereignty in Palestine remains illegitimate, there are today several million Israelis who cannot be simply wished away.

A path to co-existence will need to be found, even as the genocidal nature of the Israeli state, and increasingly of Israeli society as well, makes the endeavor increasingly complicated.

The question, thrown into sharp relief by Israel’s genocidal onslaught on the Palestinian population of the Gaza Strip, is whether co-existence with Israeli society can be achieved without first dismantling the Israeli state and its ruling institutions.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Brit here and there was DEFINITELY Press just before Meghan and Harry married saying that in future William & Kate would focus more on the UK as heirs to the throne and that Harry & Meghan would 'get' the Commonwealth. I remember thinking it a good idea at the time (when I still liked Meghan). William & Kate wouldn't have to travel so much with their young family; it would allow the BRF to provide 'coverage' of both UK & Commonwealth; it would give Harry (who so famously loved Africa etc.) a proper job and of course Meghan's bi-racial heritage was seen as a massive advantage. Everything points to this being official BRF policy rather than M&H PR. They were given their meaningful Commonwealth titles, Meghan was told enough about the role to have the Commonwealth flowers on her veil, there is a documentary about the Queen and the Commonwealth where Meghan is highlighted (K&W are absent) and they were sent almost immediately to Australia and New Zealand. They may also have been told that the Duchy of Cornwall would fund them on these tours. This is my theory about what happened next.

As we now know that tour was a disaster behind the scenes due to Meghan's attitude. My take is that they were soundly chastised and given one last chance to prove themselves with the South Africa tour. This was also a bit of a disaster, culminating in Meghan's tearful interview. I believe they were then told they were a diplomatic disaster and not ready to take on the Commonwealth. It's about this time that there was a lot of Press about them moving to Africa or elsewhere in the Commonwealth for a long stint and to focus on their young family. I believe this was the BRF's plan to give Meghan a chance to ease into royalling and keep the Commonwealth connection before coming back at a later date. It was at this time that Megxit was planned. Meghan had been told in no uncertain terms that she wasn't as good as Kate (who had stepped perfectly into the royal role almost immediately). I think Harry tried initially to stick to the script with the move to Canada but Meghan was having none of it and made the move to LA. I think it's significant that their final planned engagements included the Commonwealth Day service (this was probably why they got so stroppy about their diminished roles there). After it became obvious after Megxit that they wouldn't be getting their roles back, M&H went scorched earth and wanted to destroy any possible Commonwealth roles for the rest of the family. That's why they went all out to scupper the Caribbean tour, wove all their vague racist allegations about the entire family, followed by more substantive subsequent allegations about Kate and Charles (who could be expected to take on the bulk of Commonwealth roles going forward) and dissed the C'wealth in 'Spare'. TL:DR this whole sorry saga is Meghan's revenge for being told she and Harry weren't good enough for the Commonwealth roles planned for them.

Allegedly the Sussexes were sent on vacation after Remembrance Day 2019 because “it” wasn’t going well and upsetting a lot of people.

(Speculation for “it”: the South Africa tour being a PR disaster and the “no one asked me if I’m ok” interview, both of which overshadowed Charles’ trips and the Cambridges’ Pakistan trip; general bullying/rude behaviors; BP finding out about negotiations with Quibi, Netflix, and Oprah; complaints from Frogmore neighbors; issues with The SussexRoyal Foundation relating to financials and/or how it was set up (Bower talks a bit about this in Revenge); and having cameras for their event at the Field of Remembrance in Nov 2019 (Camilla was supposed to join them but she bowed out at the last second and Meghan was overly glam with her makeup for the event).)

So allegedly after the Remembrance Day 2019 events concluded, the Sussexes were sent to Canada on holiday for a punishment and then the Sussexes, furious about being sidelined, devised their Megxit plans.

And also allegedly, Harry and Meghan didn’t expect the hard “no” they got from The Queen. They thought they’d be able to present it at fait accompli since they were both so fully delusional over the strength of Meghan’s race card and Harry’s “status” as The Favorite.

Regarding the Queen of the World documentary that highlighted Meghan, allegedly she completely took it over. She wasn’t supposed to feature as much as she did. And allegedly, Meghan bailed on an artsy engagement with Charles that she had already committed to to film and “direct” the documentary.

[boysbellyrubs]

3C or 3D with any male sickie 🥺🥺🥺

perfect cause this man gets seasick whenever he goes on boats ;))) also New Zealand towns because I’m from New Zealand hehe. the vomiting in this story is a bit short which I'm kind of pissed about, but i literally could not write more without it being repetitive. Hope it's still good :).

prompt from this list HERE. 

—

Caine was already stressed out of his mind, and the prospect of getting sick on this boat was only worsening his state. Quinn and him were actually going to Caine’s parent’s house in Wellington for Christmas, and with the two of them staying in the South Island, the boat ride across the Cook Strait was the cheapest and only other way to get there. 

The funny thing was that Quinn got plane sick and Caine got seasick, and being Caine, he had neglected to tell Quinn about that. So they had booked the ferry and were waiting to board. Caine had sneakily taken some seasick pills before they arrived, but his anxiety was telling him that they weren’t going to kick in in time. 

Safe to say, he was panicking. 

Quinn seemed none the wiser. He was too excited to be able to be on a big boat for 3 and a half hours, taking in the sites and letting the smell of salt water wash away his worries. Caine was the complete opposite. The next three hours were going to be hell on Earth if these pills didn’t start working. 

“Do you wanna sit inside for a bit or go out on deck?” 

They had a morning ride, so the sun was out shining and there were heaps of people milling around. Caine froze, 

“Um, whatever you want babe. I don’t mind.” He answered, making little eye contact. 

Quinn nodded, “Well, I’m a bit tired from the drive so let's go sit down somewhere.” 

The ‘somewhere’ Quinn chose was actually the small cafeteria. It was technically breakfast time, but Caine didn’t feel like eating anything. He begrudgingly took a few hashbrowns and a muffin, praying to God that it would stay put inside him. 

The ferry was sailing smoothly so far. Caine had obsessively checked the weather forecast and it looked like it would be okay. 

“I hope it stays like this for the whole trip.” Quinn said, munching slowly on his bag of chips. Caine nodded, 

“Yeah, hopefully no big waves come and swallow the whole ship.” 

Quinn laughed, “Scared?” His voice went up, clearly teasing. 

Caine looked away, “Course not. I’m fine.” 

Quinn chuckled again, scrunching up the bag and sitting back in his seat. Caine picked at his own meal, barely eating the hashbrowns and not even touching the muffin. It was too sweet, he knew that would come immediately back up. 

They sat in the cafeteria for a bit longer and Caine had gained a little more confidence in the seasickness pills. Maybe because it was early in the trip and the water was flat, but he felt like he would be okay. 

He almost was enjoying himself; sitting in the cool air of the cafeteria and watching the glistening water out the windows. Quinn was also sitting silently, taking in the views with a soft smile. 

They left soon enough though, Caine was getting a bit restless with all the people flooding in so they moved to a better area. It was summer, so areas of the ship were bathed in sunlight and quickly heating up. Caine felt himself drawn to those areas, maybe he could sleep for the rest of the trip then he wouldn’t have to worry about getting ill. 

He tapped Quinn’s arm, “Can we sit down in that area over there?” He pointed at a less crowded corner of the room, well lit and with large windows, “I think I’m going to try to sleep.” 

Quinn moved his gaze from the map and nodded, “Great idea, I’m still a bit sleepy too.” 

The chairs were way more comfortable than expected and Caine sank into them with a sigh. He felt his exhaustion hit him then, and shut his eyes, dropping his head onto Quinn’s shoulder. 

His sleep didn’t come so easily though. His eyes were shut, yet sleep wasn’t hitting him. He sighed and opened his eyes. The boat was still packed with people and the area they were in was hot as. Stretching, he sat up and felt the ground tilt. Okay, maybe he did sleep because the waves were suddenly a lot larger. He looked outside the window and his assumptions were correct as hearty waves stared back at him, splashing into each other and making the boat fall up and down. 

Caine groaned, slumping back into his seat. He was so hot, and he was starting to feel a little sick. The measly bites of food in his stomach were sloshing with the boat and his head was spinning. Damn those pills, why the fuck didn’t they work. 

Quinn was still asleep next to him, and he debated waking him up. He felt okay, but maybe waking Quinn up before he was on the verge of spewing was a good idea. 

However, his idea was squashed as the next wave made Caine’s body freeze in place. Suddenly, it felt like every limb was jelly and he couldn’t even think properly. His belly swirled, sloshing like a knocked over water bottle. He shut his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose. 

The last time he was seasick was terrible. He didn’t know he got seasick and he had eaten a full dinner before getting on. It wasn’t pretty. 

And this time, he had barely eaten anything yet he still felt just as sick as the last time. The most awful thing about it though was that he couldn’t just get off the boat and take five, no, he was trapped with a bunch of strangers and still had another two hours to go. 

He brought one hand up to his mouth, pretending to rest his head on his hand, keeping his eyes closed. Seeing the waves made it worse. Caine felt like crying, he really did not want to throw up. He felt his belly churn, bubbling and gurgling like the water outside. 

Behind his eyelids, he felt the world spin and he groaned. He held his breath with another lurch of the boat. 

Opening his eyes, he scanned the room for the nearest bathroom. Thankfully, there was one just across the hall. He didn’t want to move, he felt if he stood up he would end up on the floor. Running his hand across his belly, he felt another warning flip inside him. 

But Caine felt another churn of his stomach, and with a wave of dizziness crashing over him as he pulled himself up. He groaned, holding back his tears as his illness suddenly became a whole lot worse. Before he knew it, he pushed the heavy bathroom door open and Caine found himself staring at toilet water. He sniffled, the beginnings of a few tears leaking from his eyes. 

Kneeling down, he swore he felt every time the boat went up and crashed into the water. He hugged his belly with both arms, needing something to hold him together. He spat into the toilet, saliva gathering quickly in his mouth. He groaned, knowing that this wouldn’t end until he was back on land, and land was miles away. 

He spat again, his belly growling angrily at him. Caine moaned, tapering off into the beginnings of a heave. The boat rose up again, and as it was falling Caine’s stomach finally had enough and he burped up the first wave. It wasn’t too thick, considering he had eaten barely anything, but it hurt. He heaved again, coughing to dislodge the vomit in his throat. 

Caine groaned out a grizzly sound, vomit and spit mixing in the back of his throat, burning his tonsils and leaving a rancid taste on his tongue. A dry heave cut him off, and more coughing followed. He felt like shit, and the constant rocking of the floor was only making it worse. 

Without thinking, he propped his elbow up on the toilet seat, grabbing his hair in a tight grip. He spat again, the awful taste filling his mouth. His hand was slowly rubbing side to side on his belly, doing nothing to help him feel better but it was a false comfort. He sniffed, sighing as the boat rocked again, it was going to be a long two hours. 

—

Dw after this Quinn found him and it was all happily ever after. Of course after a light scolding from Quinn for not telling him he got seasick. 

[zara24smit]

SOUTH AND NORTH POLAR VORTICES FAIL. ALLATRA Has Been Talking About This For A Long Time!

Scientists Are Shocked! The Weather Will Be Contrasting, Its Main Drivers Have Failed.

In July of this year, there were several temperature increases in the stratosphere, and scientists suggested that this could soon lead to the splitting of the South Polar Vortex. In mid-July, the wind speed in the vortex slowed from the usual 300 km/h to 230 km/h. At the same time, the temperature increased sharply by 20°C compared to the average level.

In early August, the temperature increased sharply again. This event led to the cold air moving to Australia, New Zealand, and South America. At the same time, warm air from the mid-latitudes moved closer to Antarctica, causing a record heat wave.

Researchers believe that both polar regions of the Earth are in a state of extreme change, which could have serious consequences for the polar vortices and for weather on the planet.

But why is this happening?

As various studies show, signs of strong instability have been found in the south and north polar vortices in the Earth's atmosphere. There are concerns that it may break down, leading to both waves of severe cold and severe heat.

Polar vortices are strong stratospheric air currents that circulate over the Arctic and Antarctica during the winter. They keep cold air over the Earth's polar regions. Polar vortices are surrounded by jet streams, which are narrow zones of strong winds that act as a barrier that prevents too cold air from moving to mid-latitudes.

Sometimes, a sudden increase in temperature and pressure occurs in the stratosphere over the Arctic. This phenomenon is called Sudden Stratospheric Warming (SSW). It leads to instability in the northern polar vortex, which causes it to split, change direction, or break down.

When this happens, the jet stream can deform. Thus, cold air penetrates further south than usual, and warm air moves closer to the poles.

Earlier this year, stratospheric pressure fluctuations had already caused the northern polar vortex to change direction twice. As a result, the northern hemisphere became much colder for a while. But none of these events were strong enough to significantly alter the shape of the jet stream.

SSWs are very rare over Antarctica. But scientists believe that the situation may soon change.

ALLATRA and the partner project Creative Society have been sounding the alarm for a long time: Our planet is facing growing climate challenges, and each of us needs to take responsibility. We need to unite all of humanity's scientific potential into a single scientific center to address climate problems more quickly.

Only by uniting can we overcome this challenge and save our planet!

Spread this information on social media.

Like, share, comment, and applaud. You are saving people and the planet this way.

#ALLATRA #climatecrisis #creativesociety #technologies #unifiedscientificcenter

[collymore]

Demented white cunts actually living in their obligatorily delusional state of racism denial!

By Stanley Collymore

Harry lives rather well actually with his evidently beautiful, well educated and simply mentally liberated African American wife - that he very consciously chose and clearly, deeply, and reciprocally loves; not some white slag, stalking, or otherwise basically so, normally in the cases of the bulk of you; and something, which actually literally pisses off, the entirety of you - and their two, actually young children, who crucially biologically actually naturally know who their parents are, unlike simply, the majority of you really bastardized whites, lol; and why there's the successful TV programme "Long Lost Families", that you are clearly compulsively addicted to - naturally happily in Montecito California USA having himself and also Meghan clearly irrefutably, simply through their own volition voluntarily quit his monarchical family and fittingly delightedly too departed the UK.

So literally stop, as you're very conspicuously and similarly also undeniably evidently consciously failing to do, from rather asininely and blatantly conveniently pretending that actually none of the aforementioned ever occurred, and thus Harry, Meghan and irrefutably similarly too their two children are effectively not merely rejects of the monarchy, but obviously the entire British population as well! Fucking well dream on, you odious morons aptly taking into full consideration the rabid, shameless fawning serfs and crucially, dimwitted plebeians and unquestionably, quite gullible, earnest clickbait, cum bastardized subjects. Consequently, I'll happily posit this rather obvious question, to those of you with a functioning brain, which essentially, rules out everyone of you actually toxically verminous lowlife scum! Why, on earth, distinctly would Harry and Meghan ever logically, truly want to return and live in quite dreary, cold, characteristically miserable significantly bastardized; plainly, racist Karen and also likeminded Gammon, boring, Brexit Britain?

(C) Stanley V. Collymore 18 February 2024.

Authors Remarks: "The heartbeat of Racism is its Denial" - Ibram X Kendi, New York Times, January 13, 2018.

Discernibly when your reality is much too ugly you deny that is the case and as such deny reality, as it's too painful to look at, and incredibly hard to really accept; so denial is principally amongst the most common defence mechanisms employed. And the most common form of this behaviour is denial of racism, and how that individual, usually white and with a marked inferiority complex, then ironically defends his or herself as superior; a state of affairs which is then quite intensely reinforced by their very delusional superior sense of self and as well their racial and unequal society.

Racist denial is how imperialist states like Britain, and genocidally acquired and quite racially sustained ones like the USA, Canada, delusionally Terra nullius Australia and New Zealand defend themselves as instinctively and unquestionably superior to evidently perceived as "suitable countries" both in Africa and elsewhere in the Global South!

Denial of racism is similarly also how the USA and most white western states defend themselves as "superior" really to "those developing countries" located in Africa. And the more racist that all these political leaders, the privileged elites, the monarchical Windsor family, rags and obviously other media outlets like the Daily Mail unquestionably are, the more adamantly their supporters deny their obvious racism, enabling as well their opponents to not just simply jump on their own actually hypocritical bandwagon against these quite obvious racists but significantly also look away from their own entrenched racism.

And when you get rather prized cunts distinctly like Tom Bauer, Sarah Vine, Susan Hussey and Andrew Pierce, who literally hasn't the foggiest idea of who his biological father is/was, because essentially and most crucially in his case but not unlike many others like himself of both sexes within the UK, his own biological mother evidently wasn't acquainted with that basic fact herself. Then, there's Maureen Callaghan, as well as others at the Daily Mail and in the Palace obsessively wanting Harry and Meghan's children murdered to, in these racists' sick minds, distinctly stop the British monarchical family and its line of succession being unquestionably and permanently "contaminated by Nigger and inferior blood", it's rather easy to see why the likes of these racist scum do what they obsessively and also evidently, delightedly embark on! As they odiously promulgate and evilly speculate on, as well as fervently wish for the death of Harry and Meghan's children!

Sickeningly reprehensible morons that can fulsomely and obsessively dish out their malevolently contrived and quite toxically verminous, racist poison but, unsurprisingly, much too cowardly to actually acknowledge, far less ever do so publicly, their repellent racism. And why these patently and distinctly untalented individuals are accorded the undue prominence they're given!

[the-firebird69]

Trump you are disgusting w**** bag and all my stuff back and I'm going to take it out of your hide and see what you're doing and you're sitting there and riding people and manipulating them and just sit there trying to do it to him sorry to attack people when you think taking stuff riding all the stuff you. Most of the time your sits there looking at you and that's it. Just know what to do with you you're such a piece of garbage. I know what I'm going to do with you I'm going to roll you up and get rid of you you're such a piece of garbage. What a neat piece of s***

Stan

We're going to take care of business this guy Trump is breaking All the rules but today he got himself in a lot of trouble running around telling people to resist drive by mess with people it's paying people money tonight globally everybody is going after the areas and encircling them and it's all the warlock not just the idiot next door and then circling anything that's vaguely more like they can't take down and it's going on pretty soon in the Eastern hemisphere it started around 6:00 p.m. once they called you off they're going to invade and rip you apart we know cuz we're doing it too

Thor Freya

A lot of things going on tonight and this the above is one of them. It's very huge. It's a giant giant maneuver that came out today because of what you people are doing and your idiocy at Walmart and the Chinese restaurant. You are complete fools and John remillard top it all off with his asinine bus ride and he got a lot of trouble for asking the same question over and over and his people told him to shut up on the radio and he's going to ask what he got again and our son is going to say nothing no he's going to say none of your business he's going to say I have to know for my superiors or something no I'm just going to sit there arguing so you can't just go there I said why not I go there and I'm trying to get something and I struggled with it because I'm bipolar so stick it up your ass if it feels good who cares cuz I got to use Dynamite tonight they have people with my agents stick Dynamite up your ass see how it feels so he's looking around and says what does that mean and explain to him what it means so he's fighting Brian and he's going to start a fights and we'll be able to get near him and stick Dynamite up his ass. we have to get rid of him tonight somehow and we're going to but for real that guy is a huge huge loser and a******we are proceeding we have cordoned off all of their areas we are going to make sure that they don't escape and we are going to eliminate them and kill them like dogs that they are. There are several places that they will be that will not be able to be exterminated that quickly when is the west of the United States the other Australia and New Zealand and Western areas all over Earth after the recording off in the Western hemisphere and Eastern hemisphere I will be held in the Eastern hemisphere under siege all day and the Western hemisphere they will be devastated and destroyed using several different methods and means. That might take all night of North America in the west will be a second Forest and in the South will be accepted force in the West and we will begin a large scale bombing. Then get arrested for witness tampering and it's for what he did to Jesus Christ and other people are getting arrested for it. The case is very serious and the names involved are very serious and he's been seeing in the past anyways this is about 3-4 years ago on King of queens. And she's dressed up like one of the girls said Paris Hilton knew and backstabbed her and was one of them and the other one too I saw them today but the case is about him tampering with someone who knew about a murder and the murderer was similar to Tommy f and they knew what he was doing and they messed around with people who knew about it thinking they could grab it and Tommy might be the one doing it correct you're supposed to think it's Mac when it's stalin. It's one of his guys right there he looks smackish and he's kind of a McCain. And they had something to do with it but not that much and they are getting fried up by him again and having a fall on our son to do it every few seconds now and they're losing it and now they're going after Hunter Biden and the attorney general looks like a trumpster and he is not he is one of the clones and they're doing this stuff in fighting because of the Giants nephilim of taking over. The team is turned on our son too many times you're going to try and have him get the AI shut down and they can't seem to stop bothering him as threats to get the stuff and do these Giants who are running things they did not supposed to bother him it's terrible. And the recording off and surrounded and eliminated and the cordon off all the areas in the West and they will depower them but tonight is the rest of the USA and they will start the attacks and weaken them so they can destroy the pockets

Olympus

[milenadaniels]

Before the Night Fades, 8.6k - POV Outsider on Buck/Eddie double date shenanigans (AO3)

“I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box.

“Okay?”

“Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who."

---

Or, EddieAna and BuckTaylor double date and it ruins everyone's night.

The nearly-post-COVID return to normal rush is going exactly as well as management at the Tilted Cactus expected it would, which is to say it’s going as miserably as the waitstaff at the Tilted Cactus expected it would.

The owners lost a lot of money to lockdowns, diminished capacity and the general (extremely warranted) paranoia of co-mingling in public during an international plague for the sake of overpriced appetizers. And despite accurately predicting the business would boom once the doors re-opened, management didn’t feel the need to account for more staff to serve said business.

So despite owing $34k on her student loans (that’s after a generous gift from both her parents and her maternal grandmother), barely being able to afford rent in LA, and the utter lack of career prospects, Mere is taking a break in the backroom, next to the dirty mop bucket, mentally running through her finances before she officially gives her notice.

She can’t quit, she knows that.

Turns out leaving New Zealand for LA with nothing but a dream and the idea that if Taika could do it so could she was not the most future-proof plan she could have come up with. The starving artist thing was so 2010.

But Mere’s made up her mind. She’s not made for this abuse. This is bullshit. She’s going to pack up, go home, and you know, do...something else. She’ll figure it out.

Mere pulls herself up from her indelicate crouch on some empty crates and goes in search of a piece of paper — or a fucking napkin, who cares — on which to write up her official resignation.

“No, in section 3A,” she hears Tomas fake-whisper. He’s one of the few new hires to grace these hallowed halls and still thinks it’s disrespectful to talk shit about customers even in the backroom. Umida, a five year veteran of this distinguished profession, has been trying to disabuse him of this particular nonsense.

“Where the fuck is section 3A, Tommy? We have sections 1 to 9, we don’t have any letters.”

“The new sidewalk sections have letters, to distinguish them from inside.”

“You mean sections 10 and 11?”

“...Mr. Peters said they’re using letters.”

“Mr. Peters can swallow my entire ass. The sidewalk sections are literally right outside the door from 9, why would they not be called 10 and 11?”

“Or ‘Hell On Earth’ and ‘Kill Me Please’, as we call them colloquially,” Mere offers, startling Tomas as she pushes through the swinging door she’d been hiding behind. Patio dining is highly encouraged and an excellent way to dine if one has patios. The Tilted Cactus does not have patios. It has a temporary license to put tables on the dirty sidewalk outside their restaurant, where waitstaff get to weave around pedestrians, dogs, and carts like they’re completing an obstacle course.

“Yeah, those work,” Umida agrees, emphasizing her point with a dispirited index finger in Mere’s direction.

“Okay, whatever,” Tomas says with a pained eye roll. “Can you please just check it out and let me know?”

“What’s happening?” Mere asks. She’s leaving this popsicle stand (ideally, on fire as she walks away slowly into the night) but she’s also starved of both human attention and the inherent drama of the culinary world so she’ll be damned if she misses out on one final showdown.

Tomas takes a breath to steel himself. “I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box.

“Okay?”

“Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who.”

“You don’t have gaydar where you come from?” Umida asks in perfect deadpan.

Tomas glares harder, crosses his arms and juts one hip out. “I come from San Francisco. We invented gaydar. I’m saying I’m pretty sure the guys are together, but I’m also pretty sure they’re each with the women they’re sitting next to. So figure that out.”

“Like a double thruple?” Mere asks, now actually becoming curious.

“Like a ‘I don’t know what y’all are smoking this far north but I don’t understand your weird relationship dynamics and I’m still on probation and I can’t lose this job because I can’t move back in with my brother because I will murder him and I can’t be an only child with aging parents in this economy so can you please just go out there and tell me what the fuck is happening so I can throw this ring at the right person and punch out sometime before I ‘accidentally’ fall on the meat clever downstairs?’ kind of situation.”

Umida and Mere share a glance.

“Okay, well, don’t despair, new guy,” Mere says with a pat on his arm. “Save the meat cleaving for the capitalist elite. We got you. Let the pros handle this.”

“What did the note say?” Umida asks. “One ‘e’ or two? We can at least eliminate half of our options.”

Tomas does not check the note to spot whether the note-taker had written ‘fiancé’ or ‘fiancée’. He stares them down and fips the note in his fingers so the text faces them.

“It says ‘finance’.”

“Ah.”

“We’re going to need a more hands-on investigation, then,” Mere announces.

—————————-

Mere goes first, only because Umida was on her way to swap a side dressing for her table when Tomas intercepted her.

Mere carries a jug of water and makes the rounds of the outdoor tables, trying to hold in her visible distaste for the pseudo-patio vibe the owners tried to make happen out here. There’s a bike stand and a taxi stand two feet from where people are trying to have a romantic dinner. Every now and again, the LA traffic gets rowdy and noisy, completely butchering the atmosphere. There’s a shitty speaker funneling in some Frank Sinatra but it really does nothing to help.

But after this mystery is solved, none of this will be her problem anymore.

Like Tomas said, there are two men and two women sitting like cardinal points around a round table. The women are on the north and east ends, the men on the south and west ones. Two of them are brunets, one a redhead, and one a blond. They’re all disgustingly gorgeous.

And that’s all she’s got.

“The ravioli sounds so good,” the brunette woman says, casting a look at the brunet man to her side.

“Yeah, it does,” he says.

“Mm,” the blond man disagrees. “It’s got feta.”

“What’s wrong with feta?” Asks the redheaded woman.

“Absolutely nothing is wrong with feta,” he responds with a superior smile directed at the man next to him who’s preemptively adopting the look of someone ready to hear some bullshit. “Unless you have an underdeveloped palate and are simply overwhelmed by such strong delicacies as a moderately salty cheese.”

“Okay, don’t talk to me about an underdeveloped palate, Pennsylvania,” the other man responds, posturing despite the softness of his eyes.

“Hey, I said nothing to besmirch the great state of Texas. Texas is a wonder of culinary delight. I’m saying you’re...a simple man.”

“Feta’s disgusting and that’s a hill I’m willing to die on,” the brunet says with smug finality, holding the other man’s eyes until they’re both smirking and looking back at their menus.

Well then.

Mere’s a little bummed as she fills the water at table 36. She’d been hoping the mystery would run longer than 2 whole minutes, but these guys are definitely together. So the mystery will only come down to who’s getting eng—

“Thankfully Chris inherited a more refined palate,” the blond man — Pennsylvania — chirps as the last word.

“He did,” the brunette woman chimes in with a playful smile. “He loves my cooking. You both loved that greek salad I made last week, didn’t you? That had feta in it.”

“It did!” the brunet man replies, slipping his hand overtop hers. “And I loved it. So clearly context is a factor.”

Mere almost spills the rest of the water all over the lady at table 38 as she takes in the man and woman mooning at each other. Though if it’s any consolation, the redheaded woman looks as unimpressed as Mere feels.

“Yeah, I have no idea,” Mere reports back to Tomas.

“The redheads are playing footsie under the table now. That’s one couple at least right?” Tomas asks. The two of them are parked behind the bar where they can see through the window outside but the exterior tint prevents anyone outside from seeing them. The bar is still used for pouring drinks but the stools are gone — can’t maintain 6 feet between them — so the staff pretty much have the run of this corner of the restaurant.

“He’s not a redhead,” Mere mutters, looking out the window to catch the action. “It’s like a dark blond. And I don’t know, I’m pretty sure the two brunets are together, but then blond guy’s foot is way into the other guy’s space.” For a moment she’s distracted by just how damn long his legs are. “That’s certainly...familiar.”

“They’re lesbians,” Umida declares when she returns from dropping off plates at table 32.

“They’re lesbians?” Tomas parrots skeptically. “I did not get that vibe.”

“I could see lesbian for the redhead, I think,” Mere says. “Don’t know about the brunette.”

“Lesbians come in all flavours,” Umida informs them haughtily. It’s the start of Pride month and her hijab is held together by an “Ally” pin. “You can’t tell someone’s orientation just by looking at them.”

“But you’ve declared them lesbians,” Mere points out.

“Because lesbians are approaching their table and only lesbians know other lesbians.”

“That’s definitely not true,” Tomas reproaches.

“No, she’s right, lesbians coming up!” Mere watches as two more unfairly gorgeous women approach with two young boys in tow. Honestly, screw LA and their beauty standards. The parties look surprised to see each other, but they clearly know each other well. One of the boys stays with the women, but the other one breaks off to join the table.

“No, I mean you can know lesbians without being a lesbian.”

Umida and Mere ignore him.

“Okay, that’s one of their kids, right?” Umida asks. “Lesbians babysitting for date night?”

“He’s got Pennsylvania’s curls,” Mere agrees. "That's the blond guy, by the way, I think he’s from there. Brunet guy is Texas for the time being."

The boy reaches the table and is pulled into a strong hug by Texas, who then directs him to a hug with the brunette.

“Oh, unexpected.” Mere would have sworn he was a dead ringer for Pennsylvania. “But okay, that confirms the hand-holding I saw. We have a set of parents. And unless this is a super modern table, I don’t see the parents being here on dates with other people.”

“Mm, I don’t know.” Umida dithers. “That’s like an auntie hug, not a parent hug. Like if she is the mom, the kid is not happy with her.”

“Wait,” Tomas says.

The boy is wiggling out of Brunette’s grasp and rounding the table to Pennsylvania who’s waiting with a wide smile and open arms, and instead of letting go after, the boy finagles his way onto Pennsylvania’s lap to steal a breadstick. Pennsylvania reaches into the basket for another breadstick to pass to the little boy still waiting with his moms and Mere’s heart tugs a little.

Texas watches on from across the table with unrestrained fondness. His leg shifts to press against Pennsylvania’s who looks up with a smile.

“Boom, gay dads!” Tomas crows.

“And lesbians,” Umida adds.

“Redhead definitely has no part of this,” Mere notes. The woman is smiling but it’s polite and practised, not warm or welcoming. “I guess the brunets could be siblings maybe? Really close siblings?”

Finally, the babysitters make to leave so Pennsylvania kisses the boy’s temple and guides him back to his feet. Texas presses his own kiss to the boy’s curls as he passes, saying something they can’t make out from behind the glass. Brunette gets only a wave as he leaves.

“Gays and lesbians,” Umida concludes smugly.

“Okay, good,” Tomas sighs with relief. “So we know who the couples are, now who’s gettin—”

“Um,” Mere interrupts, pointing at the table.

Redhead’s foot is making its way up Pennsylvania’s leg and he shoots her a grin.

“For fuck’s sake,” Tomas spits as he walks away.

“Did you even take their order yet?” Mere calls after him. He doesn’t answer.

———-

Mere gets pulled away because now that she’s not quitting in outrage until this table 34 drama is over, she figures she should actually get back to work. Happily, having not seen her for the last 20 minutes, Mikael figured she had left or died and had taken over her section. She agrees to split half the tips with him and lets herself be pulled back into the tide of madness.

“Got it figured yet, Tim-Tam?” she asks when she passes him near the bathrooms.

“The guys are sharing their orders,” he says despondently.

“That’s not that incriminating. I split my orders with people. I’m not about to pay full price to discover if I like something.”

“No,” Tomas glares before gesturing to the window with disgust. “They’re sharing their orders.”

Tomas stalks away to hopefully take an herbal break to calm down and Mere goes back to the window just in time to catch the insanity. Mere feels Umida come up behind her and tries to suppress her shiver when her “what in all that is holy” skates across her bare shoulder.

Pennsylvania has just finished piling some of his spaghetti on Texas’ plate, which is exceedingly normal. But now Pennsylvania is reaching for Texas' burger.

“He didn’t cut that,” Umida notes.

“No, he did not.”

They have pretty messy burgers at Tilted Cactus, ones that are hard to share because if you cut them down the middle they tend to lose structural integrity. Of course, this isn’t a big concern if you’re sharing already-bitten-into burgers. Which these absolute freaks are doing.

“Gays and lesbians,” Umida declares again, the earlier smugness replaced with an air of disgust.

But when Umida walks away, Mere watches Brunette wipe something off Texas’ cheek and frowns. One throuple and redheaded side piece? Maybe?

————

“I’m struggling with lesbians as a theory,” Mere tells Umida the next chance she gets at the pickup counter. “I want to believe, but…”

“Yeah, I’m doubting now too. They’re almost exclusively talking to each other. But then I realized it was more getting-to-know-you conversation and this would be a hell of a weird first date.”

“Huh, so heteros all around?”

“Well, I also caught on that they’re spending all this time talking to each other because the guys are like in their own world. Finishing each others’ —”

“Sandwiches?”

“Exactly,” Umida grins, unexpectedly delighted by the reference. “So I don’t know. I really don’t envy Tommy.”

“Me either.”

“Hey Manish,” Umida yells out to the other side of the pickup window, “I’m picking up for Lenore but she’s got a two-seater, why do I have four dishes here?”

“Because Lenore can’t write for shit,” Mere says, picking up the order slip and squinting at the scrawl. “These are for table 24, not 29. It’s a four-seater.”

“Alright, well I guess you’re helping me, then,” Umida says with a wink.

Umida is fully capable of carrying four dishes on her own but she’s asking Mere to come with her so Mere’s already reaching for the plates, hoping the blush on her cheek can be written off as heat from the kitchen.

————-

During a slow stretch, Mere takes it upon herself to refill water and wine glasses in section 10.

From table 32 she can hear them talking about elementary school workloads.

“Oh, ah, I meant to let you know,” Pennsylvania says to Redhead, sitting up in his seat. “I can’t make it to the movies next Friday, can we move it to the next week? I should know my schedule by Wednesday.”

“Sure,” Redhead says with a hint of bite to her pleasant smile. “But I thought you had Friday off.”

“I do,” Pennsylvania says, his lips curving into a small, excited smile, “but Christopher won his class’ public speaking competition and they’re doing a kind of show of all the winners for the parents, and it’s on Friday.”

Mere moves around table 34 and heads for table 36 next, but catches the looks of discomfort on every face aside from Pennsylvania’s. He doesn’t realize he’s said something wrong, but the rest of them have.

“Isn’t that just during school hours?” Brunette woman asks.

Texas hesitates before saying, “yeah, but we’re taking him to Universal after to celebrate.”

Out of pity, Mere doubles back to table 34 and reaches for his water glass to fill. People tend to keep their drama buckled while the waitstaff is there. And sure enough, Redhead glances up and paints a tense smile on her face.

“Yeah, not a problem. That sounds exciting.”

There’s a bite to her words, and by the way his shoulders tense and his fingers curl more tightly around his fork, Texas seems to have picked up on it.

————-

By the end of the entrees, most of the staff have caught onto Tomas’ predicament and one by one everyone from the table-bussers to the cooks have gone out for a smokeless smoke break to try to be the one to divine what the hell is happening at table 34.

None are successful.

“This isn’t even like a romantic date,” Mani laments. “Like none of them are that dressed up and they’re talking about like natural disasters and shit. I don’t get a proposal vibe from like any of them.”

“Who even goes on a double date to propose? Who does that? It’s so tacky!” Gabby says from behind the bar where she’s helping herself to a quick nip before she heads home.

“Who still thinks the ring in the champagne bit is a good idea, is my question. It’s a choking hazard!” Mere says. “How romantic to start off your engagement with a trip to the ER.”

Tomas ignores them all. He looks about 10 minutes away from saying to hell with his probationary status and drinking the next hour away straight out of the vodka bottle at his elbow. “I know it’s Pride and I should be representing but I could really do with a little heteronormativity right now.”

—————-

Tomas is stalling.

Table 34 asked for dessert, of course, and when he vaguely floated the idea of champagne, Texas had readily agreed, so this is happening. The champagne flutes are lined up on a tray, the champagne in them is warming with every minute that passes, and he is no closer to figuring out what to do.

“What if I put all the glasses in the middle and they have to pick which one they want?”

“Okay but the person getting proposed to tonight likely doesn’t know?” Mikael says.

“What if you pretend you didn’t see the instructions?” Shania pitches. “As if we can ever write stuff down correctly anyway. Just say it said to bring out the champagne but nothing about the ring being in a flute! Just hand it back to the proposer and let them get it done.”

“You think we don’t know who the proposee is but we know who the proposer is?” Tomas bites. “If I knew that, Shania, I could have just called them away with a phone call or something and asked them who to give the flute to.”

“Geez,” Shania exclaims, hopping off the bar counter to walk away. “You try to help…”

“And then there were three,” Mario announces as he comes back from another completely unnecessary round of filling water glasses outside.

Tomas’ head snaps up from where he’d been staring into the countertops. “What?”

They all rush to the window and sure enough: Redhead is gone.

“I didn’t see her come in,” Mere says, almost breathlessly. If she’d come in to use the restroom, they would have seen her.

“No, she’s gone-gone,” Mario supplies. “Said she had to get back to work but I’m pretty sure she just wanted out. That’s the chick from the news, you know?”

“People still watch the news?” Mere wondered aloud.

Tomas tsks. “Redhead was the least probable suspect!”

“Well we can rule out Brunette and Pennsylvania as a couple, right?” Umida asks, waiting briefly for the gathered crowd to nod. “Okay, so we’re down to the brunets together, or Pennsylvania and Texas.”

“Or polyamorous,” Mikael sniffs. Mikael is trying polyamory. He doesn’t know there’s a bet going on how long he’ll last. It’s a fine relationship style to get into but one he and his jealousy and insecurity issues are deeply unsuited for.

“Apologies, Mikael, or polyamorous. So you have...yeah, 3 of 3 options left for that ring,” Umida grimaces.

“Wait!” So-Hee cries. She’s supposed to be hosting at the entrance but COVID-19 protocols mean people don’t show up earlier than 5 minutes before their reservation so the podium isn’t very backed up. “What does the ring look like? That could be a clue, right?”

They look to Tomas, whose face is blank.

“You didn’t look?” Mere accuses him, though to be fair it never occurred to her either.

So-Hee pounces on the deep purple velvet box without waiting for Tomas to answer.

“Please god,” Tomas mumbles, grabbing the box out of her hands and prying it open with almost reckless enthusiasm.

All six members of staff currently on duty at the window crowd around, many heads bumping together to catch a glimpse. The ring nestled in the box has a slim, dainty band with a solitaire diamond jutting out proudly, with filigree details on either side.

“Oh thank sweet baby Jesus, that is a woman’s ring!” Tomas nearly yells.

“It could be a man’s ring,” Umida protests weakly, almost sad to see the drama come to an end.

Mere’s a little put out too if she’s being honest. But even if they couldn’t tell from the design, the sizing is way too small to fit on either of table 34’s men’s fingers, as So-Hee demonstrates by plucking the ring up and sliding it onto her own tiny finger.

“Yeah, get it stuck on your sweaty fingers, So-Hee,” Tomas protests almost hysterically, feeling his win come into danger. He wrestles it back off her finger and shoves it back in the box before taking a deep cleansing breath.

“Okay, I’ve got a dessert course to deliver,” he says, the picture of calm professionalism as if he hasn’t spent the last hour losing his entire shit.

———-

They should disperse then, but like brothers in arms after battle, all of them feel the need to stand guard as Tomas prepares to deliver the goods.

Some of them, like So-Hee, stand because they’ve foolishly become emotionally invested in the upcoming nuptial bliss.

Some of them, like Umida, stand because they fell in love with their version of events and they feel the need to properly mourn for what might have been.

“They’re co-parenting that boy,” Umida grumbles. “We all saw that! They can’t deny that!”

And some of them, like Mere, stand because they really can’t be bothered to get back to work.

But stand together they do as Tomas plops the ring in one flute and carries the tray out.

“Excuse me,” comes a voice off to the side of their group.

So-Hee, ever the consummate people-pleaser, actually turns to take care of the customer. The rest of them stay fixed at the window. “Yes, sir, can I help you?”

“Maybe? I couldn’t help but notice that young man taking some champagne out.”

“Yes, would you like to order a bottle as well?” So-Hee pokes Mikael. “We’d be happy to bring some out to you.”

“Ah, no,” the man says. “Well, yes. But I’ve already ordered some. I called earlier, when I reserved my table.”

Mere stiffens, her sixth sense borne of years of customer service piquing. Beside her, Umida takes note as well.

“I asked that champagne be brought to the table with dessert, and I left a box...one that looks a lot like the one on your counter there. And I’m sure it’s just a coincidence but I couldn’t help but want to make sure it’s not my ring that just went out to that other table.”

Mere’s wide eyes spring to Umida’s.

“Oh my fuck,” Umida whispers.

Then they’re both racing for the door.

“Wrong table, wrong table, wrong table,” Mere mutters under her breath as she dodges a stroller and a dog walker trying to reach Tomas —

“Oh, Edmundo!” Brunette exclaims brightly.

Umida’s hand braces Mere like a soccer mom in a car.

It’s too late now.

There’s nothing they can do but watch this trainwreck happen.

Happily, Redhead vacated the seat nearest to them so they have an unobstructed view of Brunette’s eyes filling with tears, of Texas’ wide eyes, and of Pennsylvania’s face losing all colour.

From context, Texas is the Edmundo Brunette is so pleased with.

But Edmundo is shaking his head, his brow furrowed. “I...wha— ”

Pennsylvania comes back to himself first, though the smile he paints on his face is strained and frail. “Ah, con — congratulations.”

“Wha— Buck, no.”

Pennsylvania — Buck — stands up from the table like a colt learning to walk, his eyes darting across the table without landing anywhere. “I — ah — I should let you guys celebrate.”

“Buck, no, I—” Edmundo’s voice is firmer now, his hand darting out to reach for Buck, and Brunette starts to catch on that nobody’s getting down on one knee with a flowery speech.

“Edmundo?” she calls, her bright smile dimming.

Edmundo looks torn and trapped in equal measure, and Mere wonders for a heartbreaking moment if maybe he’s as confused about his relationships as the Tilted Cactus employees have been tonight.

With a sigh, and a reminder that she’s out of this place like Cinderella at midnight, Mere falls on the proverbial meat cleaver. Stepping around Umida’s still outstretched arm, Mere weaves herself in front of Tomas just in case there’s any physical fallout, and pitches her voice low so the neighbouring tables will have to strain to listen in.

“Excuse me, my name is Mere, I’m the assistant manager. I am so sorry to inform you there’s been a terrible mistake. We’ve delivered a ring to your table that was destined to another this evening. We apologize deeply for any confusion this has caused and we will of course be comping your meals.”

“It—Oh.” Brunette’s eyes land on the ring on her finger, and her remaining excitement implodes into embarrassment so quickly and resoundly that Mere’s surprised it doesn’t produce an audible sound. The fingers of her opposite hand grip the ring and pause for a moment before slipping it off. There’s no box to slip it into so Mere holds out her hand, the other tucked neatly behind her back.

“Thank you,” Mere says quietly. “Please forgive us for the mistake. We will be investigating what happened so it never happens again.”

“Of course,” Brunette says lightly, forcing some life back into her voice. “I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm by it.”

Her eyes lift then and take in the scene across from her. Edmundo and Buck still standing, Edmundo’s hand wrapped round Buck’s wrist to keep him from leaving, and her eyes shutter once more.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to freshen up,” she says politely, rising from her seat and escaping into the restaurant.

Edmundo watches her go but says nothing, frozen still, holding onto the man beside him.

With all eyes more or less off them now, Mere gathers Tomas and Umida and hauls ass back into the restaurant.

————-

The ring is cleaned and inspected by Gareth, its actual owner, who is amiable enough to not escalate the situation further. His fiancée-to-be is none the wiser on any of these happenings — luckily their table, 29, is indoors — so his proposal is still on for the next course. But, just in case it doesn’t go the way Gareth hopes and he turns on them, Mere preemptively comps their meal too and congratulates him before he’s reseated.

On her way back to the kitchen, she grabs Lenore and uses the last hour of her completely fake authority to formally bar her from ever answering the phone again, or taking notes from the phone, or writing anything anywhere ever again. Lenore, having heard about the drama at table 34 and having seen the crying woman rush to the bathroom just now, accepts with little resistance.

And Mere, heart heavy with the weight of what they’ve done to this poor woman, mentally shakes her fist at her own curiosity and need for schadenfreude. If she’d bailed on this place an hour ago, she wouldn’t be leaving with this heartache by proxy.

As if beckoned by her thoughts, Brunette emerges from the bathroom just as Mere is crossing in front of it. She looks better, her tears packed away, and her cheeks only slightly reddened. Mere is about to offer her something — a glass of water? wine? a whole bottle? — when Edmundo steps into view. Mere doesn’t break stride until she’s behind the protection of the pay terminal privacy partition where she can see them but not be seen.

“Hey,” he says softly, his frame pretty loose and relaxed for a man who looked so troubled moments ago.

“Hey,” she returns with a forced smile.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know—”

Brunette cuts him off with a hand. “It’s not your fault. They made a mistake. It happens.”

Edmundo nods.

“But…” Brunette continues, fidgeting with the strap of her purse. “For a moment, it didn’t seem far-fetched that it...might be real, you know? I know we’ve been taking things slow, but we have been seeing each other for nearly a year now. And I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but it...it didn’t seem so far-fetched.”

Edmundo’s shoulders have grown tense, and it doesn’t escape Brunette’s notice. She smiles sadly.

“But then I looked up and you weren’t even looking at me. You were looking at Buck. You were so scared he would leave and that — that just doesn’t make sense, does it? I mean, even if the...the ring was a big misunderstanding, wouldn’t it have been better that he leave so we could talk about it privately? But you were scared, because he was upset… And if he was...I don’t know...upset that you hadn’t told him about this, you could have caught up later and discussed it, cleared it up.”

Edmundo says nothing, but he hangs his head and gnaws on his lower lip.

“But you were scared. Scared of him leaving in that moment. Scared...that he’d leave with the wrong idea? That he’d leave thinking you were — we were... ” Brunette sighs sharply. “I think I’ve been a fool.”

“You haven’t—” Edmundo tries to say.

“No, I have. It’s felt so many times like there’s been a third wheel in this relationship, and I genuinely didn’t realize until now that it was me. And maybe I’m naive but I’d like to think you didn’t realize it until today either. That you’re just as big a fool as I am. And maybe Buck is too.”

Edmundo opens his mouth twice to say something but nothing comes out. In the end, he settles on, “Ana, I’m sorry. I...didn’t realize. I don’t even know if I understand what I realize. But I...I know you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met and you didn’t deserve this.”

Brunette — Ana — smiles again sadly, and if a touch bitterly, she’s entitled to it.

“Thank you,” she says softly, before fidgeting with her purse strap again. “I’m going to go. You’ll...say goodbye to Buck for me?” Edmundo nods.

“Goodbye, Edmundo.”

“Take care, Ana,” he responds.

Ana takes a few steps before stopping and turning. “Good luck. I think…” she shakes her head before repeating, “good luck,” and leaving out the side doors.

Mere unglues herself from the privacy wall and slinks sadly back to the bar where she finds Tomas and Umida already halfway through a glass of red each. There’s a third, untouched glass waiting for her.

“We’re horrible people,” Mere decides. “Brunette and Texas just broke up.”

“We didn’t do this,” Umida protests half-heartedly. “Technically, Tomas did.”

“Ugh, you ass,” Tomas sputters. “The note said table 34, you all saw it. It’s Lenore’s fault.”

“It is Lenore’s fault,” Mere agrees before downing half her glass like a shot. Out the window, she can see Pennsyl — Buck — slumped in his chair, staring at the tablecloth. There’s a fresh bottle of wine on the table, two empty glasses at his and Edmundo’s places. Mere raises a glass at Tomas for the gesture.

“If they don’t end up drinking it, I’m taking it home,” Tomas says, “I already wrote it off.”

That’s fair.

Unfortunately for him, when Edmundo gets back to the table, he immediately pours them both a very full glass.

Buck straightens out in his chair, looking concerned and looking around for Ana, who doesn’t materialize. Edmundo says something that has Buck relaxing but looking guilty. Then Edmundo shuffles closer and puts a hand back on Buck’s wrist.

“Okay, back to work,” Mere orders. “We’ve intruded on this drama way too much already.”

When she finds her way back to the bar some twenty minutes later for a totally appropriate reason, table 34 is empty.

————————

A year later, Mere finds herself sitting on the Tilted Cactus bar counter on a Friday night, legs swinging and popping olives like they’re mints. She ended up not quitting her job the night she intended to. Between the excitement, the drama, and the on-duty alcohol, she was feeling pretty chill about sticking it out at the Tilted Cactus a while longer.

But she ended up quitting two days later when the owner found out about how she impersonated an assistant manager and gave her hell for it. She could have stayed, he wasn’t really going to reprimand her. But listening to him talk down at her while her stomach filled with dread at the idea of having to apologize and walk back into that hell hole…nah. Fuck the Tilted Cactus, fuck the owner, and fuck two weeks’ notice. They weren’t getting a minute out of her ever again.

She took the gamble of taking out more student loans and was wrapping up her EMT certification. She’d be in an ambulance soon enough, actually helping people. Not the dream that got her to America, but one that would suffice for now. Make up enough karma to get her feet back under her.

“The lesbians are back,” Umida announces excitedly in a whisper as she fits herself between Mere’s legs against the bar.

“Which lesbians?”

“THEE lesbians,” Umida returns, pointing out the window.

“Those are two guys, babe. Three if you count the kid.”

“They’re lesbians,” Umida insists, waving her hand to dismiss the kid from her labels. “They have strong lesbian energy.”

“You’re claiming them for your people?” Mere grins fondly. It’s the start of Pride again and Umida’s Ally pin has been traded in for a lesbian-flag coloured hijab secured with the updated BIPOC Pride flag pin. She’s very pretty in pink, right down to the lipstick Mere isn’t allowed to kiss off of her until her shift is up.

“I am, they’re mine. I claim them.”

“Wait,” Mere squints, trying to pin down the familiar feeling she’s getting, “are those…”

“The guys! Eddie and Buck. I told you they were semi-regulars now. And we were right, that’s totally their kid. I don’t know how, especially since we know they weren’t together before that night, but he’s their kid. My money’s on one of them being trans because he’s literally their spitting image combined.”

Mere sighs happily and hugs Umida to her. “Well, I’m glad some good came out of that night.”

“Umida?” a young voice asks from across the bar. In the year since the reopening, a slew of new hires have joined the ranks to replace all the veterans leaving and Mere barely recognizes anyone anymore. She saw Mikael (unsurprisingly single again) a couple of weeks ago but he’s clearly on his way out too. Tomas lasted until his probation was over before quitting. Umida, in no small part because she was the longest lasting employee, was rightfully promoted to the role of assistant manager. Mere still hopes she’ll leave this hell hole soon but in the meantime, at least she’s getting paid. And authority looks really good on her.

“What up, Jerome?”

Jerome pushes his dark blue fringe back and holds up a sheet of paper. “I have a note here to deliver a ring to a table with dessert but it doesn’t say who’s supposed to get it.”

“Oh my god, no, no way,” Mere laughs and tries to push Umida away. “Let me out of here.”

Umida’s arms close around her hips, preventing her escape.

“Calm down. I created a form so that night doesn’t happen again. Jerome, did you use the form?”

“Um, yeah.” He shakes the sheet of paper in his hands. “I mean whoever took the call did. They checked off the table number, and it’s a ‘fiancé’ not a ‘fiancée’, but it’s a table with two guys so…”

“Okay, but there’s a field for the name, did they fill it out?”

“How am I supposed to know who they are from a name though?”

“Oh my god, kid, you schmooze,” Umida says. “You roll up to their table, you lay on the customer service thick and introduce yourself and ask their names. People are idiots, they’ll tell you, just like that.”

Jerome cocks his head in contemplation. “Yeah okay, but no, there’s no name. It’s blank.”

“But you made a form,” Mere mock whispers.

Umida turns on her, her eyeshadow catching the bar lights as she narrows her eyes. “This is not the form’s fault, don’t you blame this on the form! The form has a field for a name! The form provides!”

“The form is flawless,” Mere agrees quickly, running her hand down Umida’s arm soothingly. “You can’t account for user error.”

Umida glares harder before looking up to the ceiling in supplication.

Mere, who has never in her life been able to resist picking at a scab, asks, “what table is it?”

Jerome checks the paper. “34.”

“The cursed table. The cursed lesbians!” Mere gasps, squirming out of the way when Umida tries to pinch her side.

“Well it’s not like the kid is a contender, so it’s 50/50,” Umida points out. “Much better odds than last time.”

“And to be fair, if the wrong guy gets the flute, he can just improvise and propose with the ring in hand,” Mere continues. “Overall, much less exciting drama than last time. 3/10 for me.”

“Thank god. Yeah, let’s do that.” Jerome walks away with his marching orders and Umida turns to Mere. “I have to actually go work. You gonna hang out here?” She’s off in a half hour and they have tickets to the back row of the latest Marvel nonsense.

“I got booze, olives, and an unobstructed view of my favourite drama. I’m all set.” In lieu of a proper kiss, Mere lifts Umida’s hand and kisses her wrist, delighting in watching her girlfriend’s eyes soften. She blows Mere a kiss and flits away to put out fires.

Mere is usually on her phone while she waits for Umida but tonight she watches table 34. The guys — Eddie and Buck, Umida reminded her — are across the table from each other, Eddie is relaxed in his chair but Buck is leaning forward, elbows on the table as he tells their son a story that has him cackling in his seat. They’re not holding hands, but anyone looking can see they’re together. They have ridiculous heart eyes for each other, and from her vantage point she can see those long legs intermingling again, one knee occasionally jostling into the other. Little tangible reminders that they’re there and together.

She saw hints of this that night, and to see it have taken hold and blossomed...suddenly she’s really invested in them having a great night. One of them planned this night out, wanted to surprise the other, and she doesn’t want that going to waste because of a blank field on a form.

Mere’s wearing a dark long-sleeve blouse, not too far off the dress code, so slips off the counter, snags the backup apron they always leave behind the bar and ties it around her waist. One of the newbies whose name she doesn’t know watches her from the host pedestal and Mere raises a fierce eyebrow at them until they go back to minding their own business.

She rinses out a jug and fills it with water and ice and slips back into her customer service posture to make the rounds of the tables in section 10.

“Well now, I recognize you handsome folk, don’t I?” she schmoozes when she gets to table 34, picking up Eddie’s glass first to fill.

Eddie doesn’t place her and she doesn’t blame him, he was under a lot of stress that night. It takes Buck a second but he gets it.

“Oh hey, yeah! Weren’t you — “ Buck cuts himself off awkwardly and casts an eye to Eddie and the kid. “You, ah, gave us our meals for free! Because of the, um, mix-up.”

That’s enough for Eddie to place her, and where Buck relaxes back into his chair as she fills his glass, Eddie goes stock still.

Bingo.

“What mix-up?” the kid asks.

“Ah, they put something in our drink by accident,” Buck lies without lying. “Real choking hazard! So they gave us our meals for free.”

“That’s dangerous,” the kid says.

“It was dangerous,” Mere agrees, filling his glass. “Choking hazard was right. Could have turned a really great night all wrong with a trip to the hospital.”

Eddie’s brow furrows slightly and Mere struggles to keep a neutral face.

“It’s never a good idea to hide things in food. I don’t know why people keep trying instead of just calling us for advice. We have tons of ways to help people with surprises.”

“I completely agree,” Buck says. “We’re actually firefighters and you wouldn’t believe how many accidental choking calls we get.”

Eddie swallows, his eyes looking mildly panicked.

“Firefighters!” Mere schmoozes harder, smiling at the kid as he gets excited again. “Well I certainly feel safer then.”

“Ah, you probably shouldn’t. I was actually one of those calls once,” Buck says halfway through a smile and grimace, pointing to his throat where there’s a faint scar. “Emergency tracheotomy on the floor of a restaurant. But that wasn’t a surprise, just, ah, too enthusiastic about the breadsticks.”

Eddie’s looking decidedly gray now, eyes laser focused on the scar.

“Okay, well I’ll just go ahead and clear these,” Mere says, jokingly reaching for the bread basket until Buck laughs back.

“I’m better now, promise! Small bites, chewed thoroughly!”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she dithers dramatically, nodding to the kid. “If I leave those here, can I trust you to keep an eye on your dad?”

“Yeah!” the kid agrees with a toothy grin.

Buck’s cheeks redden quickly but he’s still smiling, his head ducked shyly in a way Mere doubts is due to her teasing. Eddie, meanwhile, is still looking poleaxed though fondness is fighting its way back in.

“Well, I was just subbing into this section so this will be goodbye for us but it was great to see you guys! Enjoy your evening!”

“Thanks, you too!” Buck says with an easy smile. Eddie manages a “thank you” and Mere has to restrain herself from patting his shoulder as she walks away.

She’s only just returned the apron to the bar when she sees Eddie walk in and head straight for the host before being led to the back.

“Ready to go?” Umida asks, back in her unsensible heels and cross-chest messenger bag.

Mere takes the hand she extends but tugs her closer instead of following her out, before saying the worst thing she’s ever said in her life, “Actually, do you mind if we stick around a little longer?”

“Something good about to happen?” she asks, peeking out the window.

Mere tugs her in closer and leans her chin on her shoulder. “I think so.”

Twenty minutes later, when Jerome passes by with a tray of assorted chocolate treats and two overturned coffee cups, Mere and Umida find themselves bracketed by half the front and back staff. Gossip still spreads like wildfire it seems.

Buck’s overturned coffee cup and plate is the last thing Jerome puts on the table, and as soon as it’s down, he excuses himself. He keeps a professional pace until he’s past the exterior doors and then he’s racing to take a front seat at the bar.

Eddie turns over his cup but doesn’t reach for the carafe, he wipes his hands on his jeans instead.

“Oh my god, he’s so nervous,” Jerome whispers.

“The kid is so in on it,” the host whose name Mere never caught says, and they’re right. Where Eddie’s tensed up, the kid is bouncing in his seat like he knows something’s coming.

“Come on, guy,” a bus boy mutters, checking his watch. His break is almost over.

Mere’s heart is beating hard in sympathy with Eddie’s as they all watch Buck ignore his coffee cup in favor of serving their kid from the tray. Then he signals to Eddie’s plate, who can’t not lift it for the offered chocolate tortes. Finally, there’s chocolate on everyone’s plates and Buck sits back to try a piece of brownie and Eddie can’t take it anymore.

He motions to the carafe and Buck perks up, finally reaching for his cup. But just as his fingers close around it, some idiot’s dog barks on the sideway, calling his attention away. His fingers flip the cup without ever looking at it, or the plate underneath it.

“Oh come on,” Umida moans.

The dog passes with its dumbass owner and Buck puts his cup back down, or tries to, but finds something in the way. He tries again, pushing the intrusion away with the bottom of the cup.

“Oh my god,” is whined in Mere’s left ear and when she turns her head she’s surprised to find not another Tilted Cactus employee but a customer dressed to the nines, pearls and all.

“Ma’am, did you —”

“Shh,” the woman returns, her eyes never moving from the window. Mere turns back too.

Finally, Buck has managed to push the offending items off the plate and settle his cup down and it’s a nail-biting few seconds where it actually looks like he’s going to reach for the carafe and go about his business.

But like a true wingman, the little kid points directly at it, prompting Buck to push the napkin aside and pick up — the ring.

Buck freezes, holding the ring between his thumb and index. His cheeks flush and a smile begins to break over his face before he looks startled and the smile falls abruptly away.

It’s about this time Eddie realizes that proposing by recreating the night they got together was never going to be the best idea when the impetus to their relationship was an engagement ring accidentally sent to the wrong person.

Eddie vaults out of his seat and into the empty one next to Buck, wrapping his hand around the one holding the ring, and bringing his other hand to his cheek to gently turn his head until Buck is looking at him. They can’t tell what he says, but they can watch Buck’s eyes fill with tears, watch as Eddie gestures to their son who’s smiling wide and reaching out for a hand, which Buck instantly provides. His attention comes back to Eddie then, who’s saying something that gets them both looking a little fragile and it’s hard to say if he actually popped the question yet but Buck is surging forward to kiss him hard and fast. Eddie gives as good as he’s getting for a moment before he slows them with small, gentle kisses. And when they finally break apart, Eddie plucks the ring from Buck’s fingers and slides it onto his ring finger as Buck watches, his eyes wide and half incredulous.

Outside, the nearby tables break out into applause, startling the trio and reminding the two men that they are indeed out in public. Eddie acknowledges the applause with an embarrassed hand and waits until they have a modicum of privacy again before taking Buck’s hand and kissing right near the where the ring now sits. He then reluctantly shuffles back into his seat.

Inside, Mere is hugging Umida to her with a strength buoyed by love. Around them, the staff are starting to disperse, some wiping their eyes, some with goofy grins on their faces.

“Young man,” the lady in the pearls says to Jerome, holding out her credit card, “I want you to charge that family’s meal to my card.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s very generous of you.”

The woman sniffs delicately and leaves without another word. Hopefully Jerome knows where she was sitting…

“I’m glad she did that,” Mere says into Umida’s shoulder, “I was going to, otherwise, and I’m a broke-ass student.”

“I would have pitched in,” Umida says, her voice soft and pensive. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Mere agrees, sliding off the bar counter for the last time. “Oh, hold on.”

She gets closer to the window and turns the flash off of her camera before taking a pic.

“I think that’s bordering on creepy now,” Umida says without judgement.

“It’s not for me.” Mere sends the pic off with a note and three ring emojis.

They don’t make it out of the restaurant before her phone dings.

“What does Tomas have to say?” Umida asks with a smirk.

Mere pulls up the text and reads, “Gays and lesbians. Both, at the same time. Never doubting Umida’s gaydar again.”

Umida laughs victoriously, which shouldn’t be as sexy as it is, and Mere lets her drag her by the hand down the street, letting the nostalgia from tonight settle in her chest.

If there’s anything she misses from working the restaurant scene, it’s getting this glimpse into people’s lives.

Yeah, most of the work was gross, obnoxious, or mind-numbing. But every now and again, she got to be a part of strangers’ stories. Got to be there for the happiest days like graduations, or bridal showers. And even the sadder stories could be beautiful sometimes, like when she got to be extra kind to the elderly woman coming into the restaurant alone for the first time in ten years, or watch a family have their last supper together before their kid moves away for school. It’s just all so human and some kind of wonderful.

She hopes her career as a paramedic will have just a little bit of that kind of magic.

[kariachi]

Okay, so, I have been on this Pern fashion thing for days now and am throwing some baseline shit together. Namely, gonna split up the Northern Continent into it’s Territories and see about designating some geographically similar regions on Earth to be used as a baseline for inspiration. Might even get some base ideas for the clothes of those areas, might not, we’ll see what happens. Yeah no.

Before all that though, a list of the potential fabric sources for Pern

Leather*

Fur*

Hide*

Wool* (*likely most common sources during a Pass)

Cotton

Linen (likely to be among the most common, just because the DLG mentions native flaxes and so they’re probably easier to grow than other shit)

Sisal (also probably common, since there are also native sisals, but less likely to be used for clothing with other options available)

Also, things like elastic and zippers are unlikely to be a thing, so we’re looking as buckles, buttons, ties, drawstrings, and lacing as the manners of holding shit on or closed.

And so, we move on to the actual meat of this shit-

High Reaches Territory

80% of the west coast, all mountains all the time

High Reaches Hold

Climate: Continental, windy, frigid, wet

Geography: Western coast, mountainous

Potential Inspirations: Northwest NA, Southern Argentina, Norway, Sweden

Tillek Hold

Climate: Temperate, prone to storms

Geography: Western coast, mountainous, bears terraced fields & roads

Potential Inspirations: Peru, Northeast Russia, Scotland, Western Coast US

Nabol Hold

Climate: Temperate, north enough to discourage crop growth in favor of trees and livestock

Geography: Landlocked, rich grassland to the southeast, mountains to the northwest

Potential Inspirations: Great Plains, Northeastern China, Austria

Fort Territory

Peninsula, mountainous down the center, plains on the north-eastern coast, jungle on the western coast

Fort Hold

Climate: Temperate, southerly so hot summers

Geography: Coastline on both borders, mountainous in the center, grassland on both coasts

Potential Inspirations: Spain, Japan, Southeastern US, New Zealand

Ruatha Hold

Climate: Temperate

Geography: Protected coast on the east border, mountains on the west border, grasslands in the east

Potential Inspirations: British Isles, Eastern Argentina, Northeastern NA

Southern Boll Hold

Climate: Tropical, hot, humid, windy as fuck

Geography: Western peninsula end, mountains down the east coast, lush jungle in the western half and tip

Potential Inspirations: Central America, Columbia, Ecuador, Burma, Thailand, Cambodia, Turkey

Ista Territory

90% coastline, one island plus 3 distinct peninsula ends, mountainous on Peninsula A, grasslands on Peninsula B, tropics on Peninsula C, island tropical

Ista Hold

Climate: Tropical, hot as fuck,

Geography: Island, primarily jungle and beach with some cropland

Potential Inspirations: Carribean Islands, Phillipines, Indonesia, Malaysia

Keroon Hold (shared with Igen Territory)

Climate: Dry-temperate

Geography: Protected coast on east, plains, hills

Potential Inspirations: Northeast Mexico, India, Italy

Igen Territory

Centralized chunk of peninsula, coasts of both sides, river valley & delta in center, desert in the west, mountains along the west of the river valley, buttes in the eastern half

Igen Hold

Climate: Dry, strict wet vs dry seasons, primarily hot & dry

Geography: Protected coast on western border, mountain range on eastern side, plains between mountains and river+river delta, desert in the west

Potential Inspirations: Australia, Namibia, South-Western North America, Chile

Lemos Hold (shared with Benden Territory)

Climate: Temperate

Geography: Landlocked, mountainous along western border and northern half, forests to the northwest, plains in the south & center

Potential Inspirations: Paraguay, Southwestern Great Plains, Armenia

Benden Territory

Long eastern coastline spanning much of the continent, primarily mountainous in the north and long the coast, span of fertile land along the central border

Benden Hold

Climate: Temperate

Geography: Coastal on the eastern edge, mountainous down the center, plains in the west

Potential Inspirations: Eastern China, Mozambique, Malawi, Zimbabwe, Northeastern US

Bitra Hold

Climate: Continental

Geography: Landlocked, mountainous to the north and northwest, otherwise fields

Potential Inspirations: Northwestern China, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Hungary, Slovakia

Nerat Hold (shared with Ista Territory)

Climate: Tropical

Geography: Eastern peninsula, all jungle and farmland

Potential Inspirations: Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, Italy, Greece,

Telgar Territory

Primarily landlocked, center of the continent, with mountains in the north and fertile plains in the south

Telgar Hold

Climate: Temperate, most northerly regions get snowed in in winter

Geography: Mostly landlocked, coastline along the southern border, mountains on the north and east borders, fields everywhere else

Potential Inspirations: Northern China, Northern Great Plains, Poland

Crom Hold

Climate: Temperate, only capable of hardy crops, winter hits hard

Geography: Landlocked, mountains in the north and northwest, fields to the south and southeast

Potential Inspirations: Mongolia, Northeast China, Slovakia, Hungary

Note: None of this is meant to be a one-for-one! Or even accurate! This is just taking environmental factors and using them to give a diverse range of options to base clothing on! Because damnit it shouldn’t be all ‘Pern is Western Europe flavored’ or ‘Pern is East Asia flavored’! This is just meant to give some baselines people could build off of if they so chose!

Have fun with it!

[emilybeemartin]

It’s the end of the year, so it’s time for a decade redraw! I chose my piece of Legolas after the battle at the gates of Mordor, which I first drew while in New Zealand in 2009. I liked the idea of him having lost/given away/destroyed his arm guard in the chaos of the previous few weeks. My redraw is sort of the next breath, when he looks up and realizes that the gates are down, the mountain is crumbling, and the tower of Barad-Dur with its fiery eye is no longer standing.

I know I haven’t posted as much LotR content since my own books started being published, but I have a lot of feelings about this character and this scene in particular. Legolas is practically the last Elf anybody would choose to go on a quest to save Middle Earth. He's the least noble of any Elvish heroes, with absolutely no deeds to his name besides losing Gollum (oops), he’s from the least of the Elf-realms, and he has unremarkable lineage at best and bleak family history at worst. His grandfather led a disastrous charge at the Battle of Dagorlad that got his whole company killed (Book of Unfinished Tales), which Thranduil witnessed first hand. The passage that comes after is one of my favorites:

“[Thranduil] had seen the horror of Mordor and could not forget it. If ever he looked south, its memory dimmed the light of the sun, and though he knew that it was now broken and deserted and under the vigilance of the Kings of Men, fear spoke in his heart that it was not conquered forever: it would arise again.”

And now here's his son, who almost certainly expected to die that day for a world he has no moral obligation to, surrounded by absolutely none of his kin, sitting on the threshold of Mordor, instrument of Sauron's final destruction and LIKE? Come on, that's a great arc.

[a-force-dyad-in-space]

I was tagged by the lovely @yumingyesfairy thank you! ♥️

Rules: answer 30 questions and tag however many blogs you want

Name: Jen

Gender: female

Star sign: Leo

Height: 172cm/5'8"

Time: 10:49

Birthday: August 7

Favorite Bands: VIXX, Monsta X, (G)I-dle, f(x), Seventeen, Nu'est, Imagine Dragons, EXID, BTS and others (yes, I listen to a loooot of K-Pop)

Favorite Solo artists: Halsey, Taylor Swift, Dove Cameron, Ruelle, Fleurie, Taemin, Hyuna, Wonho, Leo and others

Last Movie: Uhhhhh.... I think Frozen II? I watched it on the side while drawing last week, I don't think I've watched anything else since then 🤔

Last Show: The Untamed Special Edition (making my way through that rn)

When did I create this blog: somewhere in 2019 I think, I used it very infrequently at first

What I post: When it comes to original posts, mostly random thoughts about my fandoms, some watch-threads about shows I watch, some Untamed fanart, some fanfics for several fandoms, I reblog a lot of The Untamed + its cast, Star Wars (most frequently Reylo and The Mandalorian), Marvel, Star Trek Discovery, Pride and Prejudice and other shows and movies

Last thing I googled: some of the cast members of Star Trek Discovery

Other blogs: none at the moment, perhaps in the future

Do I get asks: rarely

Why I chose my url: I love Reylo and they're a Force Dyad in space, sooooo

Following: 329

Followers: 91 (slowly growing 💪🏻)

Instruments: none now, but I learned the piano from 10-13 and the flute in elementary school

What I am wearing: a Jack Skellington onesie (yes really)

Dreamjob(s): as a child I always wanted to be an author, and I still do, but I also like to do other creative things; maybe I can cut myself a career path for that sometime

Dream trip: since I was a kid, I've wanted to see Japan, now I'd also love to see South Korea, Scotland, New Zealand and many other places

Favorite foods: Pasta, Ramen, Poke bowls, sushi, pie, chocolate, mochi and a lot of other stuff 😋

Nationality: German & American (I have dual citizenship)

Favorite song: you want me to choose ONE??? impossible

Last book I read: last one I read, as in in-progress, is MDZS/The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by MXTX; if we're talking last book I finished, that would be Pride and Prejudice and Zombies by Seth Grahame-Smith

Top 3 Fictional Universes: the world from One Piece, Middle Earth, the world from Howl's Moving Castle

I tag: @domhnallhux

[alarawriting]

52 Project #6: Birds

(I am not 100% positive that this is a story per se, but it’s as much of a story as China Mieville’s “The New Death” and other such “new weird” stories, so... here you go.)

***

One day all the men in the world woke up to find that they had been turned into birds.

It began in New Zealand, where a day is first born on the planet Earth. By the time that women were waking and going into hysterics because the men and older boys in their lives had all turned into birds, the men of Central Asia, India, and the middle of Russia had already gone to bed. It was late enough in Europe that many men were getting ready for bed; a large number of them missed the warnings. Not that the warnings helped; men who tried to stay awake all night stayed human, but sooner or later, they all had to sleep.

In Western Europe and the Americas, there was an idea that maybe if someone would keep waking a man up, he wouldn’t turn into a bird, so many women kept watch by their husbands’ bedsides. It didn’t help. No one was able to see the transformation; they’d blink and a human lying in bed would suddenly be a bird. Even with high speed cameras, it proved impossible to catch the transformation. One frame, human man; next frame, bird. And they were many different kinds of birds – pigeons and roosters and peacocks, ostriches and starlings and falcons, flamingos and penguins and seagulls. Practically every kind of bird you can imagine, including some extinct birds – at least two men became dodos and one became a passenger pigeon.

Fortunately, it turned out that the birds could still talk, and sounded exactly like the men they used to be. This was helpful when linking birds to their former identities, because of course, none of them matched the pictures on their ID cards. It took a little bit longer to convince everyone, closer to a week, but eventually it was proven that the birds all retained every aspect of their former intelligence and personality.

Birds argued that this meant nothing should change significantly; birds could still go to work at their old jobs. This was true of birds who worked in banks and in IT and in management, for the most part, but any jobs that required physical strength, dexterity, or simply having a human-sized body? Birds couldn’t do those jobs. So for a while there was a severe shortage of plumbers, electricians, construction workers, garbage collectors, and bus drivers. Some New York city pigeons argued that if people with no legs could drive cars, surely adaptive equipment could be built to let pigeons drive the buses, but it was easier to get women to do the job than to build such equipment. Birds either lost their jobs entirely in those kinds of industries, or were kept on the payroll to teach women how to do what they had been doing when they were men.

For a while it was thought that there were occasional anomalies – men who didn’t turn into birds, women who did – and this gave people some idea that the situation could be reversed, but this proved to be a false hope. To a man, everyone who didn’t turn into a bird was not in fact a man; anyone with a penis who didn’t turn into a bird was either a trans woman or a nonbinary person. Likewise, trans men did turn into birds – male ones. All the birds were physiologically male even if they had seemed to be women when they were human. This was a stressful situation to be sure, since all the trans women had just been forcibly outed, but on the other hand, it was fairly good evidence for their contention that yes, they really were women, that whatever force had transformed the men hadn’t touched them.

After an initial difficult adjustment period, birds who’d been men were soon flying, or in the case of penguins, swimming. Some domestic geese and roosters, too heavy to fly, hit the gym to train their wings and lose weight. Personal trainers who were now birds devised regimens that other birds could follow, to strengthen their wings, and personal trainers who were still women helped birds to do the regimens, since there weren’t yet gym machines designed for birds. Birds discovered, to general happiness on their part, that whatever special ability the bird they had transformed into had, they now had it. So pigeons could always find their way home, and roosters could crow. Roosters in fact were very, very fond of crowing. Owls could see very well in the dark and eagles could see tremendous distances and parrots could imitate any sound they heard and pelicans could stuff their beak full of whatever they wanted to carry.

In addition, the birds they’d become seemed to have some connection to the personality they’d had as men. Men who’d thought there was no place like home became pigeons. Men who’d been models or actors who’d loved to show off their handsome bodies became peacocks. Men who were short and aggressive and always on the go became hummingbirds. The species was usually appropriate to the location as well; birds of wild, native species always turned out to be living in the area that species was native to. Temperature and environment seemed to also be a factor; the only men who turned into penguins had been living in cold places, near water. Since the entire Southern Hemisphere was having winter at the time, this might have resulted in a disproportionate number of penguins in Africa and South America, but it was more common for birds who weren’t penguins, who’d loved Polar Bear Challenges and skiing and cold weather sports, to regret the fact that they weren’t penguins because it was too hot for penguins where they lived when the change came, than for penguins to regret their penguin identity.

This was all quite nice and a boon for the birds, whose lives had been so very disrupted by their transformation, and many argued that in fact they had the far better deal than the women who’d gotten to keep their humanity; they had their intelligence and their speech but they could also fly. How awesome was that? Women generally responded to such comments either with amused tolerance, or with an obscene gesture that involved the use of an opposable thumb, because of course that was the main thing the birds had lost. Many bird talons were very dexterous and had opposable thumbs, but they were feet, and the birds couldn’t use them for the same tasks that had been easy for hands. Deaf birds were devastated; by losing their hands, they’d lost speech. They could type notes to their wives or mothers or other birds in their life, but it wasn’t the same. Groups of deaf people, both birds and women, gathered to discuss and work out signs that birds could make, but this was essentially telling birds that they needed to learn an entirely new language to translate their own into.

Plus, there were certain biological realities that had upended the order of things that humans had grown to expect. Now, aside from a few ostriches, cassowaries, emus and other very large birds, every human woman was bigger than most of the birds. Birds who’d been abusive men found themselves in cages, and when policewomen and policebirds came to do wellness checks and investigate why a certain bird hadn’t been seen in a long time, those cages often ended up in closets or the basement or the attic, and were never found by the police.

It wasn’t all that suspicious. Many birds, especially ones who’d lost their jobs, had decided to give up on running the human rat race, and had abandoned their human families and flown off with a flock of like-minded birds, usually of similar species. Why not? Birds could forage for food on their own – they didn’t need to go grocery shopping. Why did they need money, or jobs? They could live like the wild birds did!

A lot of these came back, injured by predators or far too thin, because they didn’t know nearly as much about getting the available food as the never-human birds did.

Many birds died in the early days – cancer patients couldn’t get chemo that would work on birds, but they still had cancer. Men who’d needed open heart surgery became birds too small for anyone to safely operate on. Also, there weren’t nearly enough trained bird doctors. Most veterinarians knew dogs and cats; bird specialties were rare. And obviously, human doctors knew nothing about birds. So there was a massive shortage of doctors who could do anything about the problems birds suffered, and half of the few doctors there were, were birds themselves.

Birds who were vets with a specialty in birds were shadowed by women who were vets, and sometimes women who were human doctors, trying to learn all they could about care for birds. Women and birds in veterinary colleges elected to learn about birds, and the same professors who taught bird specialties to veterinarians were called in to teach med students. Most countries allocated huge amounts of money to getting bird doctors trained up and ready as soon as possible.

The balance of power shifted. In the United States, several female senators argued that birds had no business being allowed to make laws for humans. What if all they did was vote for free birdseed and the extermination of cats? The bird senators argued that the United States was now a country for both humans and birds, and needed to be represented by both. The women pointed out that there were far, far too few women for that to make sense; birds should represent birds and women should represent women, and since every senator here had been voted for by humans, and now only women were humans, all the existing seats in the Senate should be taken by women, and birds could go have their own Senate. Some human senators from states where gun rights were important showed up to the senate exercising their Second Amendment rights to carry weapons… which, of course, birds could not do. In response, a falcon insisted on reading the entire script of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds into the senatorial record. In the end it was decided that the states would vote on a constitutional amendment to set aside one seat per state for a bird and one for a woman, and in the meantime, a lot of senatorial birds got female aides or proteges to speak for them in the Senate, so anything the bird wanted to say went through the human first.

Many other countries went through similar experiences. In countries where women had been virtually or entirely shut out of power completely, birds found that their expertise in rule was not desired, thank you, and many, many birds found themselves in birdcages. Large numbers of women objected to this, arguing that if it was the will of God for women to rule, God would have already allowed this. Other women retorted that what better evidence did you need that God wanted women to run things than that God had turned all the men into birds? More egalitarian countries generally had more peaceful agreements between women and birds as to how to split up leadership roles.

The President of the United States – the new one; the old one had been tragically killed when he’d transformed into a house wren, a very small bird with a very loud mouth, and the First Lady had accidentally rolled over on him in the middle of the night – agreed to abdicate in favor of the Speaker of the House, who was a woman, if the House would pass an emergency resolution that there would be a new election as soon as possible and that birds and women should both be explicitly authorized to vote for any candidate of either type, bird or woman. Birds were suddenly very much in favor of gun control, and while many women had been in favor of total freedom to use guns, more women in general favored gun control as well, so the United States finally got sensible gun laws.

In Great Britain there was a kerfluffle – Queen Elizabeth was ancient and her heir was a bird. It was argued that birds, no longer being human, could not possibly still be part of the royal bloodline. Birds, of course, argued against this proposition, and women in Great Britain didn’t generally have guns. They did, however, have rocks. It turned out that the remarkable human ability to throw rocks was now a problem for birds. Her Majesty ended the conflict by demanding that Parliament pass an emergency amendment allowing birds to serve as King so long as there was a woman of sufficient rank and bloodline standing as his Queen.

Of course, all of this was going to be moot very soon if humanity didn’t confront the elephant in the room – sex and reproduction.

The sperm banks were going to deplete within a generation. Trans women and nonbinary people born with penises could make a great deal of money selling sperm, if they still had the equipment to make it with, because women still wanted children. Immediately after the change it had seemed that perhaps the human race would be spared after this generation, because baby boys hadn’t transformed – boys as old as 4 had remained human. However, within two weeks, the news went around the globe that a little boy had just turned into a bird, and it continued to be the case that as boys aged, they would transform into birds too. The population of humans who still had testicles that worked was very, very small, and scientists warned that there would be unacceptably high risks of massive interbreeding if every cis woman who wanted a baby was buying sperm from a trans woman. Fertility experts worked day and night on finding a way to either cause a somatic cell in vitro to undergo meiosis, or to permit two eggs to be merged into a viable zygote.

Birds had lost all sexual interest in human woman. Many birds still had lingering romantic feelings for the women they had loved, but it wasn’t sexual. Instead, they were sexually attracted to other birds of their species. The gay and bi birds were widely considered to have gotten the best of it, since while many male-male couples were broken up by the two birds being of different species, at least some got to be two birds of the same kind, and they could continue to be lovers. And some couples made it work even when they were different species of bird. Obviously, nearly every single heterosexual couple – with a few kinky exceptions – lost their sex lives completely. Birds who’d been straight men would mate with never-human birds, and while many women, and some birds, argued that this was bestiality and it was repulsive and should be against the law, most birds felt that it was necessary. What other options did they have?

Meanwhile the sex industry was turned upside down. Prostitutes and porn stars and other sex workers suddenly had no clients interested in what they had to sell. But they knew the truth – human women were horny, and desperate for sexual contact with human men, which could no longer happen. Straight-up porn of the wham bam thank you ma’am type was not appealing to most women; whether having been raised to think Good Girls Don’t, or having some biological predilection, none could say, but the truth remained that women wanted their porn in context, with men who had strong emotional bonds with the people they were ostensibly fucking. Lesbians had no trouble finding porn in the new world, but it was heterosexual women who were starved for sexual attention, and they were the new big market.

Different strategies for creating porn with men in it were used. Some dead men or former men were resurrected on film by the miracles of CGI. Women with strap-ons could be rotoscoped into handsome men. The biggest new market, however, was animation. Birds still sounded like men – their voices tended to be tinny, lacking the full timbre of a human voice, but this could be fixed by a good sound mixer – so voice acting became a very popular profession for birds. Some birds went into doing phone sex; they weren’t interested in human women anymore but they were interested in fat paychecks, and they remembered what it had been like well enough to act.

Similar transformations encompassed Hollywood and in fact the entire entertainment industry. Rock stars who’d been famed for their voices could still sing, but they couldn’t play guitar, or keyboards – some birds managed to keep up with drums – so birds who could sing ended up making albums with women who could play instruments, and the stars who’d been famous for their virtuoso skills with their instruments… either went into singing also, learned how to program synthesizers to sound like the instruments they’d once played, or took advantage of their ability to mimic noises to be their own instrument, singing like a bird instead of like a human. Or left music entirely. Theatre, for the most part, dressed up women to play the parts of men, although some more avant-garde productions kept birds in some important roles. Movies and TV became dominated by CGI and traditional or computer-assisted animation, although some television shows set in supposedly modern times just rolled with it and incorporated the bird transformation into their storylines, so they could keep their bird actors.

Things settled down after it had been a year or so since the transformation. Birds still worked in entertainment and in professions where their minds were their greatest assets – writers, professors, researchers, programmers – and in most countries, were guaranteed all the legal rights they’d had as humans, though some countries had adopted new rules regarding bird representation in their government. Women did everything else. This left a lot of unemployed birds – they couldn’t all do phone sex – and many of these either opted out of the human race, joining in flocks of like-minded birds, or they stayed in their homes all day, surfed YouTube, and played video games with controllers that had been designed for birds.

It was around that time when scientists made a tremendous breakthrough. Sperm from birds, if collected rather than deposited into another bird’s cloaca, would, after two or three days in a refrigerator, spontaneously transform into human sperm. The human race was saved. Birds still didn’t have any sexual interest in human women, but many birds were definitely interested in the ability to father human children; their bird children were ordinary never-human birds, unable to speak. Fortunately, birds who’d been romantically interested in women back when they were men were often still romantically interested in women, and women found that they were entirely capable of falling in love with birds. For sexual release, birds needed to be with birds and women usually turned either to vibrators or to women (or sometimes nonbinary people with penises, but many of those felt uncomfortable in relationships with average women, feeling that most women saw them as men even though they weren’t), but women could pet birds, and birds could preen women’s hair, and birds and women could still join finances and households and raise children together.

The killing of birds was outlawed almost everywhere, since how could you tell the difference between a never-human bird and a bird who was just tongue-tied? Some argued that the killing of female birds should still be okay, but others pointed out that birds could father never-human female birds, and that even though their children couldn’t talk and had animal intelligence, they still loved them. The poultry industry was devastated. People discovered that lizards tasted just like chicken, and soon breeding lizards for food was a new norm. Unfertilized eggs were still considered edible, so hens were still raised for eggs, but never-human roosters were often dumped in the woods because they couldn’t be killed and they weren’t useful to egg producing farms. They usually ended up feeding some creature who wasn’t a human. Sometimes those creatures were formerly human birds of prey like falcons or eagles, who knew it was illegal to feed on other birds, but knew they’d probably get away with it because no one cared about the never-human roosters except some animal rights activists. Roosters who had been human were not legally allowed near the egg farms; no one wanted them to mate with hens and perhaps produce rooster chicks who’d eventually be abandoned in the woods. It was, however, perfectly legal for a rooster to buy hens and keep them in a coop at his home, as long as he understood that he had the obligation to protect and provide for any offspring from such a union.

Eggs being breakable by rooster beaks, very few roosters actually ended up having to support chicks of their own.

Before long, things had settled down into a new normal. “People” now consisted of human women (and non-binary people, but they were a small enough part of the whole that sadly, people kept forgetting they existed) and talking birds. In addition to having a birthday, boys got to celebrate their bird-day, the anniversary of their bird transformation, and All Birds’ Day – the anniversary of the day the world changed -- was an international holiday. Girls and non-binary children – basically, all the kids who remained human – would study “humanity” between the ages of five and seven in preparation for their “confirmation”, an official recognition of their human status. While humanities, plural, had once meant the study of art, literature, history and languages, “humanity” was a class aimed at children that focused on human history (with rather more emphasis on the contributions of women than their parents remembered from their schooldays), and at teaching skills that were specific to being human, or at least, to not being birds. Throwing balls. Playing musical instruments. Endurance running. In rural areas, shooting a gun. In coastal areas, swimming. This wasn’t technically unique to humans – penguins could swim underwater, and many birds could swim on the surface – but it was true that most birds couldn’t do it. Sometime between a human child’s seventh and eighth birthdays, they would usually have their confirmation ceremony, affirmatively declaring their humanity, and then they’d get to celebrate their “human-day” like the boys got bird-days.

This was done as late as it was because of the trans boys. Most trans boys didn’t change as young as the cis boys, but almost all of them had changed by the age of seven. A rare few wouldn’t change until they were teenagers; this was thought to be the result of the hormones of puberty hitting the brain and finalizing the child’s gender. This didn’t happen the other way around; birds had much shorter childhoods than humans, so little boys would always change into adolescent birds. The lifespan of formerly-human birds seemed to equal to the lifespan of humans, not the species they’d turned into – at least, so far, although at this point no one could yet tell if maybe the parrots might have been shortchanged a bit -- but the boys got through adolescence and into physical adulthood long before their skills at navigating civilization were solid. High speed cameras left focused on apparent boys successfully, once or twice, caught a moment where a child became a bird and then immediately turned back into a human, and after this they were always certain that whatever they were, they weren’t boys, even if they’d seemed to identify as boys previously. So trans girls and nonbinary children with penises were never birds for longer than half a second, because when they changed into birds, the hormones that finalized their gender were already present and said that they weren’t male. However, these cases were very, very rare – in general, a child of seven was either a bird or a human and would remain so for the rest of their lives.

It was somewhat more than two years after the transformation when a new phenomenon was discovered. Fledgling birds would wander into cities or other human settlements, go to sleep on the ground even if they were a bird species that normally roosted up high, and then they’d turn into toddler girls. Invariably, when it was possible to figure out where they’d come from, it turned out they were the result of formerly-human birds mating with the female offspring of other formerly-human birds, so in a sense, these birds were three-quarters human to start with. It didn’t seem to happen to all of them – in a clutch of four eggs, all of which hatched female, maybe one would be strongly attracted to humans, and the ground, and would then turn into a human child. Generally, when birds saw female fledglings on the ground near human habitation, they would bring it to the attention of women, who would often scoop up the bird and keep her in a human crib for a while. If she didn’t change, she’d eventually fly off. These bird-girls didn’t know human speech, obviously, when they first transformed, but they caught up and were usually fully verbal to the expected level for their development after a year or so. They tended to be more independent than human children of the same apparent age, but also very sociable, craving the presence of humans. Some longed to fly and begged their adopted mothers for hang gliders and zip lines; some were very happy with being grounded. Egg-clutch-sisters of the human bird-girls remained non-human birds, unable to talk, but were often far more intelligent than their species would normally suggest, as were their brothers.

Humans worried about what might be happening out in wilderness where humans rarely went, and where a fledgling bird would have a hard time finding a human habitation, but no one ever found a child, alive or dead, in those circumstances. Perhaps whatever compelled the bird-girls to seek the ground and the presence of humans wouldn’t allow them to transform if they couldn’t find those things.

Life returned to normal. Bird boys went to school beside human girls. (And nonbinary children. They weren’t common, but they existed in large enough numbers that there was usually at least one in a normal-sized school at any given time.) Boys who couldn’t find a profession that was open to birds that they would enjoy would graduate and then, often, fly off to spend a few years in semi-wild flocks of formerly human birds. Very few girls ever had trouble finding a job, given that all the jobs that birds could no longer do fell on them. Both were encouraged to get a good education to ensure they could get a job they actually wanted.

It was very useful for humans and birds to live together, if the bird wanted to live as part of civilization and have access to internet, television and refrigerators for their bird food. Birds and humans could pool their income, raise children together, and compensate for each other’s species-based inabilities; among the things birds could do that humans could not were environmentally friendly bug extermination (many birds loved to eat bugs, and with human intelligence, it wasn’t hard for them to seek out and destroy anthills and wasp nests), alerts for potential dangers (bird hearing and eyesight were often better than human, and prey birds, with eyes on either side of their heads, could see a wider range than humans with their stereoscopic vision), and early detection of noxious gas (when a bird in your house complains that he’s dizzy, you grab him and run.) And of course there were many, many things that the women could do with their height, strength and opposable thumbs, that the birds could not. Because of these advantages, and because birds and humans could be romantically attracted to each other, birds and humans began to date, just as they had when the birds were men, but without any expectation that they would have sex (aside from formerly mentioned extremely kinky couples.)

Birds who resented the lack of opposable thumbs or human size learned to pilot robot drones that had such things; humans who resented the lack of flight took up ballooning, small aircraft piloting, hang gliding, bungee jumping, and every other thing that humans had always done to get as close to flight as they could. Oddly enough, almost everyone was happy with what they were. Little boys would eagerly share with their preschool playmates what sort of bird they hoped to be, but whatever they got, they usually found they were satisfied; little girls might initially be upset that their playmates got to be birds and they didn’t, but by a girl’s confirmation she’d been taught all the advantages of being human and usually thought it best that that was what she was. Birds and humans might be somewhat resentful of the other’s abilities, but in the end most of them agreed they wouldn’t really want it any other way.

Aside from the deaf birds, who had to completely reinvent sign language for talons and wings, accommodating disabled humans’ needs became much, much easier in a world where companies and governments had to accommodate birds of various sizes, abilities and needs; at least usually the disabled humans were roughly within the same size and shape range, in comparison to the diversity of birds. Racism remained, but was much harder to act on; while white women often continued to be racist to black women, they couldn’t tell what race a given bird had been unless his accent or his speech patterns gave it away, and birds mostly got over racism because they were too busy being prejudiced against other bird species. The idea of discriminating between humans on grounds so tiny as skin tone and hair consistency became ridiculous when you could be a chicken and have to deal with other roosters ranging from tiny gamecocks to giant Oshamu roosters, not to mention, every other bird in the world that humans had turned into. Religions had turned weird because they all had to take into account the concept of a God who’d turned all the men into birds; birds tended to think that God was probably a bird, and women tended to think that God was probably a human and either female or genderless, so most religions split in at least two, notwithstanding the ones that had multiple schisms because birds of different species all wanted to imagine a God that favored their species. Polytheism came back.

Sometimes there were still wars, flocks of birds viciously pecking and slashing at each other in the air while women on the ground shot at each other, and at birds wearing the enemy colors. It didn’t happen as often as it used to, though. Terrorism continued, and even got worse at times, because security measures designed for humans couldn’t keep birds out, but the disaffected young men who had no jobs and no futures, that had usually supplied the backbone of any terrorist movement, just weren’t there anymore. They were out flying in flocks with their friends, enjoying the freedom of the air and hunting for food. And environmentalism became a deadly serious issue; birds were more likely to be negatively impacted by any drastic change to the environment, so most of them were strongly in favor of reigning in the excesses of capitalism and cleaning up the planet. Who wanted to fly in a cloud of smog?

All in all, it was surprising how much better the world built by birds and humans, working together, was than the world that had been before. It was far from perfect, and there were many new problems that hadn’t previously existed – women’s near-universal sexual frustration, birds being unable to get jobs, the high cost of having children in a world where artificial insemination was the only means by which all but a tiny number of the women could get pregnant, plus the phenomenon of birds having ridiculous prejudices against other birds, as well as many others. But other problems that had plagued humanity for centuries turned out to be very easy to solve once all the men were birds. And so the people of Earth stopped looking for a cure; they were happier in the world where half of them were birds than they had been before, overall.

[giftofshewbread]

World Government is Rising In America!

By Daymond Duck    Published on: May 9, 2021

Here are some recent events that seem to indicate that world government is rising in America.

One, concerning hyper-inflation, economic collapse, and famine: on Apr. 29, 2021, it was reported that the price of food is soaring in Asia, a region that contains more than half of the world’s population, and history shows that soaring food prices eventually lead to social unrest (The French Revolution of 1789, Europe’s Revolutions in 1848, and a revolution in Russia in 1917).

Concerning the signs of His coming: Jesus said there will be “upon the earth, distress of nations, with perplexity; the sea and the waves roaring” (Luke 21:25).

This is usually interpreted in one of two ways: the waves and seas roaring represent an increase in cyclones, hurricanes, etc., at sea; and roaring (social unrest, rioting, demonstrating, etc.) in the sea of humanity (Rev. 17:15).

Two, also concerning hyper-inflation and an economic collapse: it is being reported that the Biden administration is planning to spend 6 trillion dollars just in the next 6 months alone.

Some economists say America’s debt-to-GDP ratio is higher than it has been since the end of WWII, and another 6 trillion dollars will destroy the U.S. dollar.

Three, concerning world government: on Apr. 28, 2021, Pres. Biden addressed the nation and a joint session of Congress.

As expected, he accused America of “systemic racism,” a vague term that many say means because of slavery and segregation in America, black people do not get fair treatment at school, at work, in elections, in housing, in anything; and everyone in America, especially white Republicans, is guilty.

Using the death of George Floyd as an illustration, Biden said, the “knee of injustice [is] on the neck of black America.”

In response, the black Senator from South Carolina, Tim Scott, said, “Hear me clearly: America is not a racist country,” and he added, “It’s backwards to fight discrimination with different discrimination.”

Aside from wondering how this black man got elected to the U.S. Senate if America is so racist, and aside from noting that this black man pointed out that Democrats want to fight racism by discriminating against all white people, U.S. citizens need to understand that the purpose of portraying America as a bad nation is to restructure America and bring it into a godless world government.

According to the Bible, America will be subjected to a godless world government that is far worse than what we have today; and billions of people, including multitudes of the black people, will regret the day it happened.

Four, concerning world government: on Apr. 30, 2021, Dr. Andy Woods and Jim McGowan discussed the U.S.-Mexico Border Crisis on Pastors’ Point of View #163.

The Biden administration has delegated authority over the crisis to Vice-Pres. Kamala Harris, but she has not even visited the border.

For whatever it is worth, she says she is working with the radical U.S. Ambassador to the UN, Linda Thomas-Greenfield, to get the international community’s help.

Notice this!

Kamala Harris is delegating control of the U.S. border with Mexico to unelected foreigners instead of the U.S. Border Patrol, building a wall, etc.

The fact is, according to the Migration Policy Institute, during his first 100 days in office, Biden issued 94 Executive Orders that have dismantled America’s immigration policies and throw the border wide open.

Five, concerning the Battle of Gog and Magog: Pres. Biden is now involved in indirect talks with Iran over that terrorist nation’s quest for nuclear weapons.

This prompted Israel’s Intelligence Minister, Eli Cohen, to warn that “a bad deal will send the region spiraling into war.”

Cohen said, “Israel will not allow Iran to attain nuclear arms. Iran has no immunity anywhere. Our planes can reach everywhere in the Middle East.”

An Israeli attack on Iran would almost surely result in Iran attacking Israel, a war that the Bible says will happen in the latter years and latter days (Ezek. 38:8, 16).

Six, concerning the Mark of the Beast: on May 1, 2021, Dave Hodges reported on The Common Sense Show that New Zealand has just made Covid vaccinations mandatory without public notice, discussion, etc.

Seven, concerning persecution: Evangelist, Mike Gendron, bought a round-trip ticket from Texas to Green Bay on A.A. to speak at a conference.

Gendron said the only time he did not wear a mask was while he was drinking a cup of water, and no flight attendant ever asked him to put his mask on.

Two days later, when Gendron checked in at the airport to return to Texas, he was told he was banned from flying on A.A. for not wearing a mask on his trip to Green Bay.

An overnight hotel room and a ticket on another airline cost him another $600, and none of the money he paid A.A. for a round-trip ticket was refunded.

After a week of trying to straighten this out, A.A. stopped taking Gendron’s calls.

Why he was reportedly falsely banned for not wearing a mask is a matter of speculation.

Persecution of those that object to what is happening to America is intensifying almost daily.

Eight, A reader sent an e-mail reminding me that some past prophecy teachers have suggested that world leaders might use the Rapture to deceive people.

Several highly respected prophecy teachers speculated for years that globalists might promote the Rapture as an alien abduction to scare people into uniting against a threat from outer space and thereby accept a one-world government.

I consulted with a friend, and we agreed that it is time to remind people of this.

My friend even sent a link to an Apr. 30, 2021, article titled, “Pentagon whistleblower warns of UFO intelligence failure on ‘level of 911.'”

The whistleblower, a former Pentagon investigator, said there is something out there and U.S. citizens need to be told.

As it turns out, the U.S. government will release files on the subject in June.

Just know this: The Church will be removed from planet Earth by Jesus, not UFOs from outer space.

This is not to say that UFOs don’t exist or that people don’t need to know about them, but it is to say that people shouldn’t allow themselves to be deceived and scared into a world government because leaders have decided to admit that UFOs are not a conspiracy theory or because they have made up lies to convince people that a world government is needed to defend the planet.

The rise of the Antichrist over a Satanic world government is a greater threat than aliens from outer space.

Christians oppose a godless world government, but they support the coming world government of Jesus during the Millennium.

Christians oppose the false peace on earth that the Antichrist will promote, but they support the peace on earth that the Prince of Peace (Jesus) will establish.

Christians oppose the false religions of Mother Earth, the Green New Deal, Chrislam, etc., but they support the true teachings and worship of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit as recorded in the Bible (God’s will).

Nine, concerning godless world government: the fact that the Democrat Party left God out of their Party Platform is now old news, and so is the fact that on Feb. 26, 2021, Jerry Nadler, a Democrat from New York, said, “What any religious tradition describes as God’s will is no concern of this Congress.”

It has now been reported that the National Day of Prayer will not be allowed at the U.S. Capitol for the first time in 70 years.

There was a request for prayer at the Capitol, but it was denied supposedly because the Capitol is closed due to the January 6 protests.

This writer believes prayer is badly needed, and the truth is that those that have taken over the Capitol support a godless world government.

The America that was based on Judeo-Christian values no longer exists.

Jesus said the day of His coming will be like the days of Noah (Matt: 24:37).

In the days of Noah, God saw that the wickedness of man was great. He was grieved and decided to destroy man with a Flood (Gen. 6:5-7).

Ten, on May 2, 2021, it was reported that California plans to release at least 76,000 inmates.

63,000 of them have been imprisoned for violent crimes and repeat felonies.

20,000 of them have been given life sentences with the possibility of parole.

10,000 of them have been imprisoned twice.

About 2,900 of them have been imprisoned 3 times under the state’s “three strikes law.”

Critics say putting thousands of criminals back on the streets will increase wickedness and criminal activity in California.

To make matters worse, police are retiring or quitting in record numbers all over the U.S. because of the “Defund the Police” movement, the liability, and the abuse and hatred that is being directed toward them.

Finally, if you want to be rapture ready and go to heaven, you must be born again (John 3:3). God loves you, and if you have not done so, sincerely admit that you are a sinner; believe that Jesus is the virgin-born, sinless Son of God who died for the sins of the world, was buried, and raised from the dead; ask Him to forgive your sins, cleanse you, come into your heart and be your Saviour; then tell someone that you have done this.

[littlemisskookie]

Loveless: Chapter 1

Loveless: Index Ship: Reader | OT7 Description: Spy/Men in Black!AU | You worked at an institution that dealt with aliens- aliens that were the fictional creatures we were told were from fairy tales. The job entailed love only for it, and nothing else. That’d all change when a mission goes wrong. Warnings: Future Smut, Mentioned Smut, Gore, Violence, Death, Sexual Tension, Bad Comedy Word Count: 6,348

Let's get one thing absolutely clear: aliens are real and they walk among the Earth.

They have for eons, really, swooping down on our little planet to play a visit or reside temporarily, typically hiding in plain sight or beneath humans' noses. The times they were discovered, though, alluded to a lot of ancient folklore and paranormal sightings.

Vampires? Aliens. Sensitive to sunlight and needing blood to sustain themselves, they went to Earth, a small clan that wreaked enough havoc to start a horrible movie franchise centuries later.

Ghosts were more common, mainly harmless save for the small group of "poltergeists". In reality, they were aliens from a planet that had become destroyed, resulting in their migration to your planet. Humans tended to latch the familiar onto them once they were sighted, confusing them with their own dead and such, or even creating mysteries surrounding them.

Loch Ness monster? A true monster that had been dumped from its home planet to Earth.

Demons? They originated from a fiery hellspawn of a planet, led by their leader Lucifer to your planet. Because of their horrifying appearance and deadly habits, they earned a bit of a bad rep, becoming intertwined with stories of religion. They were perhaps the most asshole of the immigrant aliens on Earth.

Fairies? One of the more diverse races, from pixies to dwarves, they had as many different races as humans did. Gnomes, banshees, leprechauns, brownies, hobgoblins, gnomes, and more. Some dwindled over time, however, due to natural selection.

There were some beasts that were raised in the wild or as pets by the aliens, from dragons, griffins, unicorns, pegasi, and more. The dragons were the hardest to tame, though, as they were the wildest by nature. That is why they are shown in both Asian and medieval European culture.

Mermaids were from the same planet as the Loch Ness monster, the great drought of 1488 BC bringing them to Earth. It was perfect, seeing as 3/4ths of it was covered in water, soon to be more with the rate of global warming.

Werewolves were one of the few that could attempt to live among humans, their appearance far closer save for the full moon. Some speculated that the reason for this was because the more human of their kind decided to mate with the dog-like beasts of their planet, and for them their genitalia was compatible.

There were far more where that came from, many continuing to flow in even now. They couldn't reside in the public with humans, however. Throughout history, there had been one thing that humans kept consistent: ignorance. If they couldn't even accept their own species for the color of their skin or their own preferences, how could one expect them to accept the foreign that lived amongst them?

And so there was one section that dealt in that aspect of Earth. A secret international organization that dealt with the affairs of humans and aliens alike, monitoring the immigration and crime and whatnot. Manage, monitor, and hide. That was the profession of the EAA- Extraterrestrial Affiliation Agency.

Where you happened to work, as it turned out.

They recruit only the most talented, lethal, and brilliant of agents to join the agency. Those who have exemplified skills that could bring them above and beyond, spies that could trick and fight anyone and anything, no matter how many arms. So prestigious, in fact, that there were never more than 26 agents at a time. From the ones filling the places managing to stay alive or those dying out quickly. They only accepted the best of the best, but sometimes even they found their betters.

They also only accepted those truly willing to commit. This meant no personal lives outside of the agency. All men were expected to get vasectomies, and women to get their tubes tied. Children were a distraction. No serious relationships inside or outside of the agency, though flings could be allowed. Should one even consider the possibility of love with someone or break the rule, they'd be invited out of the agency with their memories wiped. Relationships were a distraction. One must even fake their death to their family and friends, forbidden from having contact with them. They were a distraction. Love was a distraction.

Everyone within the agency was young. Young enough where they wouldn't be able to miss anything once they abandon their lives. Young enough to want to join a special task force that would make them feel at the top of the world, almighty and all powerful. In their physical and mental prime. No one had to worry about growing out of the job, either. That was fine, though. Another condition was to be willing to die for one's planet no matter what.

You yourself were Agent Q, your code name out of the alphabet. You specialized in the more so spy aspects of the jobs, remaining invisible and acting deceitfully in order to obtain information. Cold and cunning, you had learned long ago that the true trick to being a spy was in the acting. You had learned how to skillfully slip into any persona or personality, up to the point where you forgot which one you really had.

You had caught the eye of the agency when you were far younger, just beginning adulthood. You were a master of deceit, getting into both the FBI and CIA, at some point even forging a British identity to get into MI5.

All of it was considered training, however, when you were recruited for the EAA. Government agencies certainly had a thing for three digit acronyms. You were certainly one of the top agents, if not the top, excelling in each area applicable. Not to brag, but you had saved the world perhaps half a dozen times, whether it was Incubi who were attempting to seduce the leaders of the world to their every whim in an attempt to rule Earth or a group of yeti who were trying to escape Anartica by hijacking one of the traveling planes and causing a rampage in New Zealand. That was one of the many reasons why no one was allowed to fly over the South Pole, per international law.

You remembered your first few weeks as an agent, your mentor being none other than one Kim Namjoon, otherwise known as Agent B. At the time he was on the cusp of celebration, finally arranging a treaty between the zombies and satyrs, two species that had disgusted each other since the beginning of time. Pesky creatures.

Namjoon specialized in the more analytical parts of the job. He could see through anyone's lie with a mere glance. He easily had one of the highest IQs within the agency, which was saying a lot for an agency of your caliber. No one was by any means average in any area. Except for dick size- you knew personally. Namjoon was one who could do the math on the likelihood of immediate death within a second, and every prediction and calculation he had made turned out true. A god's death? Correct. The following plans for a pact of golems planning to invade Hong Kong? Easy. Which species humans could strike a reasonable deal with, perhaps reaping the benefits of their resources? Done. It was even said that he once outsmarted Death himself, though it was really an alien that originated the legend of the Grim Reaper.

He was a good mentor, letting you see how to settle or work around conflict without using trickery or fists. He had opened your eyes to endless possibilities of dealing with people and aliens, even tutoring you on each and every species known to man. Their tells, their weaknesses, their history. One must learn from the past in order to move on in the future. At least that's what the poster in his office claimed. Despite the fact he was barely older than you he seemed to be eons older in wisdom and smarts. You got to learn early on in the missions where you shadowed him.

Even after you excelled past the point of tutoring, you'd spend time with him, knowing each conversation would bring about new information. You still teased him on your first interaction, reflecting back on it in comparison to your well established and current friendship.

The head of the board had brought you down to the main facility, and you were too busy looking around at the creatures you had thought before to only be mythology to notice the handsome man before you.

"Agent B, this is our newest recruit, Agent Q. I expect you to train her until you feel that she is good enough to operate on her own. As a senior agent, I trust you'll train her well. She's excelled in physical combat and the arts of personas, but I'd like for you to specialize on the teachings of the different species as well as alternative routes such as negotiation tactics. Sprinkle in a bit of economy while you're at it."

Namjoon studied you for a minute. "She looks a bit soft for an agent."

You fumed inside but did your best to keep your composure. Still, you couldn't help but quip. "Would that make you hard in comparison? I'm certainly flattered, Agent B, but I would insist that you take me to dinner first."

The head of the board showed no reaction, instead turning away. "I'll leave you two to it."

You were left alone staring at your tutor, the man showing no reaction to your quip. Instead, he simply smirks, as though amused rather than offended. "Sense of humor, huh? Let's just hope that doesn't die along with everything else around here."

He begins walking, and you trail after him, right on his tail. "You're not that much older than me- how is it that you're already a senior agent?"

He laughed at that, dry rather than finding it humorous. "Agent Q, around here 30 is considered old enough to retire. Ancient, even."

"Well you know the saying," you sighed, "'I'm here for a good time, not a long time.'"

Namjoon's laugh was outright that time, genuine and boisterous, the smile reaching his eyes. He looks at you with a sincere amount of newfound fondness, patting your head jokingly, ruffling your hair in the process. "You're cute, you know that? Real cute. Smart mouth on you, too. Perhaps we need a bit of that around here."

"I told you before, Agent B, take me to dinner first before you try to get into my pants."

God, whenever you teased him about that he'd still get so flustered, leaving you with tears in your eyes and aching cheeks from smiling so much. Truth be told, you had a bit of a crush on Namjoon for the longest time. You never pursued it, however. You figured that through the training and tutoring he had seen you as nothing more than a little sister. Besides, flings were the most that were allowed, and you knew that if you were to sleep with Namjoon you'd fall. What was there not to admire? So you simply kept that bit of information to yourself, instead referring to him fondly as Agent Bitch whenever he said something to erupt butterflies in your stomach.

He wasn't the only one who had sent you in a daze, though. Perhaps it was the fact you couldn't interact with anyone outside of missions, which usually ended with them dead. Or maybe it was the fact that so many of the male agents around you happened to be extremely young and attractive, as hot as they were lethal.

Take Hoseok, for example, Agent A. (Agent Asshole when he was being a bit of a snippy prick.) He had been in the agency the longest. The way it had happened was quite amusing, too. One of the entrances to the base was disguised as an antique hat shop. A robot ran the place, an old lady by the name of Barbara.

She'd ask anyone the question who walked in, "What brings you to a tacky little hat shop like mine?"

The answers would vary, and anyone with the wrong answer would simply be treated as a regular customer, but the answer would be, "Because I like Howl's Moving Castle."

How was the EAA supposed to know that a little boy would say that?

And so a little boy, no more than ten, had gotten swept down to a base full of mythological creatures and men and women in black suits. Instead of wiping away his memories, however, the board saw an opportunity, in the young boy. He was an orphan, meaning no one would miss him. If they could train an agent from the age of ten, who knew how skilled they'd become? Perhaps he'd give way to more of his kind in the future.

And so in a sense, they adopted him into their agency, the boy donning a black suit similar to the adults around him, handling guns and speaking to species of all kinds. Years later and he was by far the most skilled agent in all of EAA, even set to inherit it in the future, acting as a future leader. This was the only life he knew. His specialization was in assassinating, desensitized to the screams and pleas of victims, alien or human, that he'd become a cold-blooded killer within a millisecond. Outside of the job, the boy was bright and bubbly, still rather childish in nature, though you suspected it was because of the childhood that was stolen from him. When you mentioned the cruelty of him being taken to a place like this at such a young age, practically groomed, he grew frustrated, angry with you and refusing to discuss the matter further. You respected his wishes, but you knew he had wondered what would've happened if he had simply said something else that day. Perhaps he'd be normal. He had every species' blood on his hands.

You remember the first time you had partnered with him. It was a straightforward kill mission. Make it clean, not sloppy. Hoseok's specialty. It had been for a political leader of the ogres, urging many to come out of hiding to live among humans, accepted or not. Whether or not his morals were correct, it wasn't something you could risk. The best way to resolve the question was to take him out, as negotiation wasn't an option. The ogre, 10 feet tall, was rather violent, killing the last two agents who had come to try to strike a deal.

You had known Hoseok for a while by now, though you had never seen him in action. You were so confused as to how this man could be a supposed killer, with the highest body count in the entire agency's history. He seemed to kind to be raised from childhood as a cold-blooded killer. He seemed to loud to be a spy, hiding in the shadows. He wasn't at all what you expected. You liked him a lot for this, truthfully, another silly crush. He was more light-hearted than the bastards that ran this place, and you couldn't wait for him to inherit the place. You couldn't imagine him being as cold as them.

That was before that day, however.

It was your first mission without Namjoon, your training just finishing. The board thought it'd be best to keep you with partners for now as you gained footing, perhaps learning more in the process. You were ecstatic that it would be Hoseok, doing a yell of glee once you were in private. You two had snuck into the bedchambers of the ogre, deep in a cave near the Pacific. You had snuck past the guards easily, quiet as you stayed in the corners, distracting them from their posts. It was easy, really. After Namjoon's lessons on each species, you had perfected each mating call to a T, so much so that you prided yourself in getting even a two-inch pixie to want to bone you. With the echoes of the cave, it was known that it'd take the ogres more than enough time to search for the mate in question.

You stood over his form, quiet, listening to his snores. You looked to Hoseok, his eyes trained on the ogre's chest rising up and down, the final breaths he'd be taking. "So should we wake him up? Give him one more chance-"

Hoseok didn't give you time to respond, pressing a specialized ray to the ogre's forehead and firing. The body lit up with electricity, bright blue as it convulsed and twitched, jerking wilding on the bed. You smelt burned and charred flesh, the ogre's body slowly darkening as Hoseok continued to fry him. Finally, it stopped, and you looked to Hoseok in horror, his eyes cold.

He simply held out his hand. "Dagger."

Ah, that's right. Ogre's still had to have at least one of their hearts cut out after being burned. With shaky hands you give him the dagger, frozen as you watch him plunge the knife into the corpse's chest without hesitation, expert cuts that let him carve the large organ out, almost as though he were scooping ice cream. The entire time he wore an indifferent expression, almost as though he were bored.

The color drained from your face. You knew everyone had this sort of side to them- cold. You should've known- even you did. You killed a few yourself, even back in the public government agencies. Then why did it shock you so much to see Hoseok's side? The same man who would do funny faces or dances in attempts to cheer you up after long drills? Who pinched your cheeks seeing the newest agent?

Hoseok held the heart for a minute, the organ still beating ever so slightly in his palm. He squeezed it as its insides gushed out, spilling onto the floor. You stepped back, letting him drain its contents, what was once someone's life.

He dropped it to the floor, grinding it with his foot as though to rub it in the dirt. "Alright, I suggest we leave now. Lord knows the ogres outside will be pissed seeing their boss dead, and sexually frustrated on top of that."

You say nothing, following him out, in the shadows. You can only stare at the back of your head, slowly processing what happened. It was only on the getaway boat that Hoseok seemed to sense something was off.

"Are you alright, Agent Q?" He seemed like himself again. Kind. Concerned. Caring. Human.

"I just... I was just surprised."

He furrowed his brows, confused. "I thought you knew that was how you kill an ogre? You've killed a few aliens with Agent B, I'd figure you'd expect stuff like that."

"I mean, I know but... I..." You bury your face in your hands. "God, it's so stupid. I feel like an idiot."

"What is it? You can tell me." He reaches forward to hold your face in his hands, but you flinch. He catches wind of it, his voice quiet. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No! I just... God this sounds so dumb. It's because it's you," you whisper, feeling guilty that you're making him feel bad. "I know your history and your reputation, but I never could quite believe it, you know? Everyone here can be cold or desensitized, even I am at times. You're so happy and loud and lively I guess I just thought you were different."

"Oh." He's quiet at that, following your words. Processing them. "I'm still the same Hoseok, you know."

"Of course I know! Nothing can change that. I guess it subverted my expectations. You did nothing wrong, Hoseok, really. It was my fault for being naive and ignorant. I should've seen it coming. It's part of the job, after all. It was a kill mission and nothing more. You were just doing your job."

He nods slowly but says nothing. This time it's your turn to hold his face, making him stare you in the eye. "Hey," you say, "it means nothing to me, ok? I'm just still getting used to this job. It's not you, I swear."

He licks his lips slowly, hands coming up to yours. You can feel the ogre's blood on his fingers, still warm. You say nothing.

"I guess I never thought about it much before. I've been doing this since I was ten. I should've been more mindful of your reaction."

"Agent A, absolutely not!" You let your thumb caress his cheek. "We'll have to do a lot more of that. Best to get used to it now, right? You're still kind and caring and sweet. You're still my friend."

For the first time, you could swear you saw an agent begin to tear up. You were sure however that it was a trick of the light.

He squeezes your hands, letting his head hang low. "I'm your friend?"

"If you want to be," you smile. "You're still the Hoseok I and everyone else adores. I wouldn't have you any other way."

He looks up at you, and you swear his eyes are shinier than usual, glassy almost. "Thank you, Agent Q."

"Please, call me Y/N. Agent Q was my mother's name," you smirk, earning a hearty laugh from him.

After that mission you had grown closer, your following missions running far more smoothly. You communicated a lot better, but you always noticed how Hoseok would look to you before killing the target, as though asking for your permission. In response you'd always place your hand on his shoulder, a weak attempt to pour your support into him.

It wasn't long after that that Namjoon got his next trainee. A young man by the name of Taehyung, easily one of the most gorgeous men you've ever seen. Apparently, he had heard about your agency and had gone out searching for it. How he wasn't caught and had his memories wiped was beyond you, but as usual, the agency found usefulness out of those who came to them. It impressed them, which was saying something.

You had hopped into Namjoon's office, giddy at the news of his newest student. Admittedly you were a bit unprofessional, barging in to get an eyeful of the boy. "I hear Agent B's got a new apprentice!" you say. The boy had been here for three days, but you were shooed away by others who insisted you'd scare him off or intimidate him. Truth be told you were sure they'd think you'd want to jump his bones the second you saw him- and you couldn't deny it. The man was the definition of beauty. The moment your eyes landed on him you were stunned, eyes wide. "Holy shit."

Namjoon sighed, running a hand down his face. He knew this was inevitable. "Hello to you, too, Agent Q. I'd like to introduce you to Agent V, our newest recruit. Agent V this is the one I most previously trained, a major pain in the agency's ass."

"Oh please, Agent Bitch, he's more than welcome to call me Y/N." You smile at Agent V, his eyes trained on you, and truth be told you enjoyed the attention from the handsome man. "What made you want to pursue a place like this? Were you a huge Star Wars fan when you were younger or something?"

Taehyung smiled weakly at that, a rectangular smile you couldn't help but melt at. "I've been dreaming about this sort of thing my entire life. I was considering joining the CIA, but I came across the extraterrestrial, and long story short it led to you."

You laughed at that. "CIA's for pussies anyway. I should know. The pay isn't that good either. I specialize in identity and personas, essentially the best actor in this entire cult they call an agency."

"Oh, I specialize in weaponry," he says, taking your outreached hand to shake it.

"Weaponry?" You quirk a brow at that, looking to Namjoon.

"He can take a rock and a stone and make it a Sonic Blaster 5000. Kid's impressive."

"I'd think so, seeing as he's here." You turn to him, winking a bit as you give his hand a firm squeeze. "I look forward to working with you, Agent V. Maybe you can make me a few other kinds of weapons."

"He's not going to make you a vibrator, Agent Q. Now will you please annoy someone else?" he huffed, shooing you out.

"It was worth asking-" You didn't get much else out as he proceeded to slam the door in your face. That was fine, though. You ended up working with Taehyung on various missions and even heard from Namjoon about the young man's crush on you. You were flattered of course but never pursued the mutual attraction in fear that he'd fall for you in turn. You never let his tiny crush on you get in the way of friendship, dubbing him with the name of Agent Vagina on a mission to Greece, where you'd interact with many of the creatures from Greek Mythology (a subject you were thankful you passed back in school).

There were others, however, who were far more open about their attraction to you.

Take Agent C(unt) for example, AKA Kim Seokjin, specializer in medicine and healing.

You had to admit he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life. You checked out his ass about as many times as he checked out yours, if not more. Even if it wasn't as round as a few other agents, you couldn't help but let your eyes wander whenever he picked something up.

However, Kim Seokjin had to be the cockiest bastard you knew. (Part of the reason you nicknamed him Cunt instead of Cock was to get under his nerves. He was so proud of how much he ate pussy anyway.)

He was hot and he knew it. It was rumored that he got a siren to fall for him, though you wouldn't be surprised if he spread that rumor himself. Some did speculate however that he had some siren blood in him- that or incubus. He was also the biggest flirt you knew, sexual jokes accompanying many of his annoying puns, and you'd never let him know, but you always did your best not to crack up hysterically. He might have the worst dad jokes ever, but you liked them nevertheless.

It was at some point during a mission of kidnapping a local succubus that he wouldn't shut up about letting you borrow her. All while she was tranquilized in the back of the agency's jet, for crying out loud!

"I mean I'm not sure if you swing that way, but I'm sure you can use a good lay, Agent Q," Jin smirked, knowing exactly how to tease you.

"Dear God, Jin, fuck you!" you say, though both of you knew you weren't angry in the slightest.

"You offering? I mean I'll take her place if that's what you want." He wiggled his brows for emphasis.

"Agent Cunt, last I checked you'd fuck anything that walked on two legs."

"Last I checked you walked on two legs."

"You've got to be kidding me," you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Come on, Y/N, you know you're attracted to me. Just look at my face!" He takes on hand off the wheel to blow an exaggerated kiss, which you catch and crush beneath your palm.

"As if." You roll your eyes. "Get over yourself, Jin."

"Or you could get under me."

"Ew! You're shameless, aren't you?"

"C'mon, we could do it in your office! Right on your desk! Facetime the bitchy Head of Board while we're at it," he jokes.

Truth be told you would've. Jin was right to say you were attracted to him, and you couldn't picture him as a relationship type. Honestly, the only reason you hadn't jumped his bones yet was to spite him for his arrogance.

There was one coworker who you had a tryst with. An agent by the name Park Jimin, code name Agent P. The man specialized in alien communications, fluent in every language known to man and above. He was one of the sweeter guys in the business, a soft personality everywhere but in bed. You were attracted to him of course- and who could blame you? He was gorgeous. Or maybe it was because you seemed to be attracted to every man in the agency. Nevertheless, it was after a work party, a celebration after winning a battle against the band of gorgons. You had lost five agents in the process, but your agency had to look on the bright side. It could've been more. No one could truly mourn their loss, so they chose to celebrate their achievements.

After all, rule #1. No distractions.

You and Jimin had gotten drunk, and truth be told it was far better than expected. You would've figured you'd given into Jin's flirting that night, but instead found yourself bent over your desk by a completely different man. No facetiming your boss, though, unfortunately.

It did make the mission right after a bit awkward, however, but the two of you agreed that you'd stay friends and eventually the awkwardness faded. Whenever you wanted Jimin to shut up when he was on one of his rants about a coworker, you'd simply tease him about the fact he came first. Worked every time, despite the fact that he made it up to you by eating his cum out of you.

You remember the most recent argument when the two of you were arguing over who'd get to convince Lucifer himself to go to a meeting with the agency. Neither of you wanted to do it.

"You speak every language! Maybe speaking in demon will make him a bit more pliant!" Usually you yourself would be up for the challenge, but there was a reason why Lucifer was never depicted wearing clothes. It was always weird for you to look up from his flaccid red willie just swinging about.

"What about you? You specialize in identity and personas- that means you're the best liar in the entire world! You do it!" He argued back.

"No way! One, I prefer to call it acting, not lying. Secondly, man to man would be better. Maybe you can communicate by doing the helicopter."

"You're insane! I don't think the wooshing of our dicks in the air is gonna convince him to come to the base and have the director and head of board chew him out for going over the quota of stolen souls."

"It's not like I know how to speak demon talk! I tried and failed. I only speak a little bit of gnome and parseltongue- neither of which he speaks."

"Parseltongue- are you shitting me woman?!" His eyes bugged out of his head.

"Big talk for a guy who blew his load first."

"I swear to god I'll have you cum enough times where you beg me to stop next time, just to get you to shut your trap about that."

"Oooh, Agent P, are you mentioning a next time?" You wiggled your brows, teasing him as his cheeks flushed red. "I'll have to check my calendar! Will this make us official fuck buddies?"

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Fine, I'll do it. Jesus Christ."

"Thanks, Jiminie! Just for that, I won't call you Agent Pussy for at least a week," you say, giving him a peck on the cheek out of gratitude.

"Whatever, Agent Quip. You're lucky I like you so much."

That's true. Everyone seemed to like you in the agency- save for a certain Min Yoongi. AKA Agent D(ick). He specialized in torture- an area of the field that you weren't exactly the keenest about.

You two wouldn't have the most friendly of bantering, a bit closer to bickering. He'd get frustrated with you when the two of you were torturing a target, trying to get information out of you. You were annoyed with him because he'd nap through important meetings and never seemed to be listening to anyone. The two of you were archenemies, but admittedly you worked well together.

"Agent Q, would you please look where you're putting that?" Yoongi grumbled, swatting your hands away to take the tool. "Makes me wonder how you made it in here in the first place."

You grimaced, staring at the target. The New Jersey Devil, tied down and carved into, refusing to spit about the whereabouts of its colleagues. "You're one to talk. All you do is nap in your office and during meetings. Your entire specialty is based on sadism."

"You're lucky you're not the one on this table, Agent Q, otherwise I'd have you broken within five minutes," he grumbled back.

"Why Agent Dick, is that a proposition for kinky sex?" you guffawed.

He snorted. "Keep dreaming, baby."

"Pet names now? Such a charmer," you continued, your voice laced in sarcasm as you ran your hand down his back, mainly trying to distract yourself from the scene in front of you. "I knew that mask of annoyance was to hide your attraction to me."

He stiffened, rolling your touch off him. "Rule number one, Agent Q."

"This isn't distracting you, is it?" You toyed a bit with his tie before leaving him alone, taking the tool in hand as you decide to stop bothering him. "Alright, I can handle this bit. I just need to get used to this."

"Be my guest," he says, watching you as you finish where he left off.

It isn't long before you feel his fingers thread up your hair, slender fingers running up your scalp in a smooth massage.

"Yoongi," you breathed, your voice soft.

"What is it?" You feel his hot breath hit your ear from his position behind you. "This isn't distracting you, is it?"

You stiffen as he gets about a fistful, and you anticipate the yank, but it never comes. He lets go, laughing at your tense form, frozen and awaiting his actions. "Figured you'd like a taste of your own medicine," he chuckled.

You shoved him, rolling your eyes. "You're such a dick."

"It is your nickname for me," he smirked, letting you continue your work until the New Jersey Devil began to squeal and kick. "I think it's ready to talk. Bring in Agent P."

It had been a few years after joining the agency that you finally got your own trainee. Jeon Jungkook, Agent Z, nickname pending. His specialty was combat, and he was surprisingly more buff and thick than most of the guys around here, though they weren't anything to scoff at by any means.

He had a softer look in the face than you were expecting from an agent. For a moment you were brought back to the moment you and Namjoon had met. You got it now, especially with his doe eyes and bunny teeth. He looked too pure.

However, the skills he had shown, even beating you in combat to prove himself. In fact, he beat everyone in one on one combat, an effort to prove himself. You should've known by the busted knuckles that he was more than his eyes gave away. You had expected him to be slow, but he was quicker than you. You expected him to be less agile, but you were wrong there too.

And by God, by the end of it, you were ecstatic to work with him.

He had finished battling Seokjin, managing to keep his pretty face intact (thankfully). You had jumped into the fighting ground and flew into Jungkook's arms, who caught you easily. You smiled and squealed like the childish girl you were, pinching his cheeks. "This is my baby everyone! My trainee, mine!"

"You haven't even started training him yet, dumbass!" Yoongi called back.

"Shut up!" you replied, letting Jungkook put you down. "That was amazing kid, really! I'm so excited to tell you everything I know."

Jungkook laughed at that. "You're not at all what I expected an agent to be like."

You rolled your eyes. "I get that a lot. Where'd you learn moves like that anyway? I fought for CIA, FBI, and MI5 and I still didn't beat you!"

"Underground boxing, dad in the military who taught me a few moves, and later on I moved on to the black market. Shady business like that gives you a lot of random fights, and some fight dirty."

"Well I look forward to working with you, Agent Z!" you beamed happily.

It was a few years after that when you got the news that would change your life forever.

"Agent Q, I want you to be leading this mission. There's an unknown form of extraterrestrial beings that have landed on Earth- unlike anything we've ever seen before. I want you and seven others to go out and check on the premises and see these extraterrestrial. We don't know what they're capable of, and can't take chances. I picked the top eight agents in the business. You, Agent A, B, C, D, P, V, and Z."

You had led missions before, sure. But this was unusual. Nothing of this caliber had ever happened, and it shocked you to your very core. New lifeforms? You had only known the species that already resided on this Earth, never before anything new. Also, so many agents? At most, there were three, perhaps five if there was a need for backup. Never eight. Your agency knew to conserve numbers just in case, not wanting to lose too many.

You looked to the Head of Board. "Are you sure you want to send this many agents?"

"We need our very best, and I believe you eight can get the job done. If you can't do it, no one can. You'll be expected to depart in the morning."

"Understood."

[disabled-ratman]

neuseeland karte (2)

In the west of the mainland are the deserts. The most macrant landmark of Australia is Ayers Rock. As stable as the current distribution of land masses on earth may seem to us, it is only a snapshot of the earth's history. The six larger ones (Asia, Africa, North America, South America, Antarctica and Europe) are listed for both.

Colossal squid live in New Zealand's deep waters, where they are rarely seen.

That means you can find jobs on wineries as well as on orchards.

Read more about campervan hire New Zealand here.

What spiders are there in New Zealand?

German nationals do not require a visa for New Zealand if they are staying as tourists for 3 months in New Zealand. A passport that is still valid for at least three months is required for entry into New Zealand.

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Cities and Metropolitan Areas [Edit

Are you looking for the official middleEarthâ„¢ map or our #getNZonthemap video? SoccerA growing popularity as a team sport, soccer in New Zealand. The women's national team has already participated in four World Cup soccer tournaments. The men's national team, called All Whites, qualified after the 1982 World Cup for the 2010 World Cup finals in South Africa, where the team was undefeated and finished third in the group ahead of defending champion Italy.

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When does winter begin in New Zealand?

St. Patrick, who missionized the Irish Celts in the 5th century, did not have to drive the snakes away from the island - there were none even then. The reason for this is the geographical

[scifigeneration]

From volcanoes on Mars to scarps on Mercury – how places on other worlds get their names

by David Rothery

The solar system’s largest volcano Olympus Mons on Mars, seen by Viking 1. NASA/JPL

The New Horizons spacecraft, which flew past Pluto in 2015, is set to fly by “Ultima Thule”, the object in the Kuiper belt of bodies beyond Neptune on January 1, 2019. The name Ultima Thule, signifying a distant unknown place, is fitting but it is currently just a nickname pending formal naming. The official names of the body and of the features on its surface will eventually be allocated (this could take years) by the International Astronomical Union (IAU), which celebrates its centenary in 2019.

The IAU’s achievements during its first few decades include resolving contradictory sets of names given to features on the Moon and Mars by rival astronomers during the previous few centuries. The nomenclature working group’s task would then have been largely over, had the space age not dawned – allowing space probes to send back images revealing spectacular landscape details on planets and their moons.

Map of the Moon by Michael van Langren (1655). wikipedia

Planetary scientists would find life difficult without names for at least the largest or most prominent features on a body. If there were no names, the only ways to be sure that other investigators could locate the same feature would be by numbering them or specifying map coordinates. Either option would be cumbersome and unmemorable.

The rules

Building on some of the already entrenched lunar and martian names, the IAU imposed order by establishing themes for the names of features on each body. For example, large craters on Mars are named after deceased scientists and writers associated with Mars (there’s an Asimov and a Da Vinci), and craters less than 60km across are named after towns and villages on Earth (there’s a Bordeaux and a Cadiz).

Apart from craters, most names are in two parts, with a “descriptor term” of Latin origin added to denote the type of feature that has been named. On Mars we find neighbouring valleys called Ares Vallis, Tiu Vallis and Simud Vallis, in which the descriptor term “Vallis” is Latin for valley. This is preceded by the word for “Mars” in a different language – in these examples Greek, Old English/Germanic and Sumerian respectively. Among other descriptor terms are Chasma (a deep, elongated depression), Mons (mountain), Planitia (a low lying plain) and Planum (a high plain or plateau).

Descriptor terms are chosen to avoid implying that we know how any particular feature formed. For example, there are many scarps on Mercury that are currently interpreted as thrust faults (where one region of a planet’s surface has been pushed over another). However, a neutral descriptor term – in this case Rupes (Latin for scarp) – is used so they would not have to be renamed if we were to realise that we’d been misinterpreting them. Similarly, none of the giant mountains on Mars that are almost certainly volcanoes has volcano as a formal part of its name.

The largest volcano on Mars, Olympus Mons, coincides with an ephemeral bright spot that can sometimes be discerned through telescopes. Though this was initially dubbed Nix Olympica (meaning “the snows of Olympus”) by the 19th-century observer, Giovanni Schiaparelli, space probes have since shown that the temporary brightness is not snow but clouds that sometimes gather around the summit. The IAU decided to keep the Olympus part of the name, qualified by the more appropriate descriptor Mons (mountain in Latin).

Approved names on global topographic map of Mars. USGS

On the Moon, the IAU retained Mare (Latin for sea) as a descriptor term for dark spots, even though it is clear they have never been water-filled as was once thought. However, Michael van Langren’s Mare Langrenianum, which he immodestly named after himself on his 1655 map, is now Mare Fecunditatis.

Cultural balance

The IAU is rightly sensitive to achieving cultural and gender balance. The names of lunar craters that the IAU inherited commemorate famous past scientists, which for historical reasons are dominantly male and Western. In partial compensation, the IAU decided that all features on Venus, whose surface was virtually unknown because of its global cloud cover until we got radar spacecraft into orbit, would be named after females (deceased or mythical). For example, there is a Nightingale Corona, a large oval-shaped feature named after Florence Nightingale. The only non-female exceptions are three features that had already been named after being detected by Earth-based radar.

Prior to the first detailed images of Jupiter’s moons by Voyager-1 in 1979, the IAU planned to use names from the myths of peoples in Earth’s equatorial zone for the moon Io. It would use mythical names from the European temperate zone for Europa, names from near-Eastern mythology for Ganymede and names from far northern cultures for Callisto.

A map of part of Io, with names added. USGS

They stuck to the latter three, and so Europa has Annwn Regio (a region named after the Welsh “Otherworld”), and Ganymede and Callisto have craters named Anubis (Egyptian jackal-headed god) and Valhalla (Norse warriors’ feast hall).

However, because Io was revealed to be undergoing continual volcanic eruptions, the original naming theme was deemed inappropriate and was replaced by the names of fire, sun, thunder/lightning and volcano deities from across the world’s cultures. For example, the names Ah Peku, Camaxtli, Emakong, Maui, Shamshu, Tawhaki, and Tien Mu (which occur on the map above) come from fire, thunder or Sun myths of the Mayans, the Aztecs, New Britain, Hawaii, Arabia, the Maoris, and China, respectively.

Captain Cook and the Maoris

The IAU has struggled to achieve cultural balance for some features. For example, the theme for Rupes on Mercury is “ships of discovery or scientific expeditions”. By the nature of world history, there is a preponderance of Western ship names. For example, we find Adventure, Discovery, Endeavour, and Resolution – all four ships from Captain Cook’s 18th-century voyages to the Southern Ocean and Pacific.

Personally, I am content that these were primarily journeys of scientific discovery rather than of conquest or colonisation. Cook’s first voyage was undertaken to observe a rare transit of Venus, and his second voyage reached further south than ever before.

Endeavour Rupes, the shadowed escarpment in the middle of a 400km wide view of Mercury. NASA/JHUAPL/CIW

That said, it would be nice to redress the balance. In connection with a European planetary mapping project, one of my PhD students and I hope to get at least one of Mercury’s as yet unnamed Rupes named after a canoe in which the Maoris arrived in New Zealand.

Ultimately, space exploration is for all of humanity.

About The Author:

David Rothery is Professor of Planetary Geosciences at The Open University

This article is republished from our content partners at The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. 

[the-firebird69]

Who collected about 95% of the devices the rest of them are in their areas and if there's a problem there that's their problem we do have a handle on it 100% And we do deep scanning. Also acquiring several businesses and they're going to sign over to us Lock stock and barrel today we'll have 90% no we're going to have the whole thing all controlling share and all the shares and if they want to drive down the street they're going to have to ask us the two businesses that are major that we're acquiring today and they're signing over including Max are

**acceler motel who said about five times and we've had about 20 meetings but this should be the final meeting and it is Saturday if they wanted to come in fresh and rested and relaxed and get it over when they said it's one of the largest metal companies and steel companies on Earth it is the largest and they have subsidiaries and every single country we're shutting down Australia and New Zealand and we're pulling all the equipment out and we're doing it while the blockade is up and we're going to put it to good use and make sure none of them leave because of their hostile actions we have about five more companies that are signing over today on Saturday and they're doing it because they feel like doing it on this day one of them he did a lot of business out of this company and he decided to sit around and do nothing except bother one person and he lost all the companies doing that like a child would

**they're signing over today and it will be 90% 10% and we have the majority share and it is another steel company Pittsburgh steel it is gigantic and supplies in the United States will steal most of it and South America with half their steel they have mines all over the place and we are acquiring the mines as well nobody will have any steel unless we say they can

**another company decided to sign over today was us steel it's a gigantic firm and although the max will have a significant labor force in these companies we are going to have controlling share of 90% 10% and US steel is extremely huge but they specialize in pipeline and we're adding components to the pipeline so we don't have to replace it every 10 years like they do and run through everyone's yard it's a horrible scene been about 50 more companies that are going to sign over today and we're going to start with the largest and that would be accelerate metal

I do see that there's a lot of stress here in these people are causing it we will make them compensate for it and it says I want them out of my nightmare that they're in permanently so we're going to look at that who's been demanding it his wife is under severe to rest I don't think this is a good idea and his country doesn't either so we're going to eliminate them and was searching for their bases the empire is going after them in the Eastern hemisphere at this time they are hitting ancillary structures and trying to cut them off they're going to do the same in the Western hemisphere shortly we have only moments to discuss this but these people sit here and threaten his stuff like there's no penalty at all depends on penalty for what they're doing is extreme it's been explained to them hundreds and hundreds of times a day they don't seem to understand it and Matt himself is explained it in writing and out loud there's probably not one individual who understands what the penalties are

I'll tell you what he started doing it and we followed suit and they get shot like everyday for what they're doing in the head

Thor Freya

Mostly by the competitors who use it and they refuse to listen like little kids this one little kids they leave Mac alone our son has no other place to go and Tommy have another is forced us to happen and you're stupid they gave everything up for a song