#other countire

[digimonirl]

Does your Postoffice have any specially trained digimon for letters that need to go to places like highlight heaven? Or do you just try your best to get there as a hired tamer and digimon duo?

Hey there friend! Our office has both humans and Digimon carriers, but we aren't assigned routes in a way that takes that kind of stuff into account. The post office runs off a seniority system, so the more senior carriers get first dibs on any route that opens up. Me and Felt are newer carriers, so we just take whatever isn't already occupied that particular day. We can fill in for other carrier's vacations, giving us more stability, but that doesn't happen often. We've been getting more assignments with large apartment complexes since Felt digivolved though; it being able to fly now really helps deliver packages up large flights of stairs wgeuehdjsjw

[kikiwiwiz]

Self portait

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

Also i think here, in Hungary we have 15 days of sick leave and 1 year of additional dick pay when even without working (i mean when you are unable to work) you get your salary's 50 or 60% depending on the company.

Also i heard Hungary is pretty allowing with maternity leave, we get 25 weeks for that.

I think adults need summer vacation. Like let's just close down all our jobs for three months and play outside. Please. I'm so tired.

[misguidedscavenger]

Going from being a third culture kid who thought the US had a lot of issues but it was still my home and enjoyed the culture and wanted to love it despite everything and got very tired of everyone trash talking it all the time

To the dual citizen living in the US who thinks america (as it is) should be abolished and will likely see its fall soon unless something is done, can't stop complaining about it, never wants to go back when I leave, feels a greater connection to being third culture/European, and constantly says "I'm not american"

[iceyrukia]

Liberals be like : this POC is acting out of line doesn't agree with my politics so they must be A) brainwashed or B) white/an honorary white person!! No this isn't racist or patronizing at all !!!

See : white liberal feminists scrambling to make sure any feminist opinions that they don't agree with are labeled as "white imperialist racist bigoted colonialist * insert more buzzwords here* rhetoric", so WOC that disagree with them are "white coded" and/or literally not WOC :| , because every feminist that disagrees with them must be another white women ( a bad one unlike them, a progressive white girl ;) wink wink ) honorary mention : western WOC libfems who do this shit to other WOC too.

[o0sleepingdead0o]

Prepared for Anything Pt. 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, MasterPost

Danny folded his arms beneath his head where he lay on the desert floor. The sky blinked with stars and he was so happy he took a trip out of Gotham to do this. He liked Gotham, it felt kinda like home. But it didn’t have stars. It didn’t have the expanse of clear black pinpricked with dazzling, little lights and constellations.

It was handy being able to pop in and out of hemispheres any time he pleased.

“DANNY?!” 

Oh.

Danny rolled his head to the side to see a few violently shivering vigilantes coming around a scraggly, rocky outcrop. Robin, Red Hood, and a black and blue one Danny hadn’t encountered before, wrapped their arms around themselves tightly. They changed directions to walk towards him.                                                                                           

“Oh, hey guys.” Danny raised a hand to wave lazily at them and tucked it back in place. “What are y'all doing out here?” He asked amicably, though surmised they must be on some sort of mission. What a coincidence.

Hood and the one coloured like a bruise spluttered. “US?” Hood cried a little frenetically. As they got closer, Danny could see all their teeth were chattering and their lips were starting to turn blue. 

Oh. That wasn’t good. He had been sad Orphan wasn’t here. Maybe it was better that she wasn’t.

Hood and Robin stormed closer while Bruisy followed at a slower pace. “WHAT-T A-ARE YOU D-DOING OUT H-H-HERE?! H-HOW D-DID YOU GET OUT H-HERE?! I M-MEAN. . . .WHAT?!” Hood gestured his arms bewilderedly at him. “W-WERE T-TEN C-COUNTIRES A-AWAY F-F-FROM THE S-S-STATES!”

Danny stood up and reached under his t-shirt. “Here.” He handed Hood, Robin, and Bruisy large, reflective blankets, throwing Hood off from his rant.

“. . .wha. . .” Bruisy said. The vigilantes seemed slightly confused, but didn’t hesitate to unfold them and throw them around their shoulders.

“So?” Danny raised an eyebrow.

“Our p-plane w-wrecked.” Robin grumbled venomously.

“. . .and ex-exploded.” Hood added.

Danny hummed sympathetically. 

Robin opened his mouth again. “How are you—“

“Have you contacted. . um. . . your associates?” Danny wasn’t really sure what the vigilantes called each other or what their relations were like, but they acted like teammates. They should help each other out when things like this happened, right?

Bruise sighed. “N-no signal.” The man seemed particularly tired and out a little out of it. That really wasn’t good.

“A-and all the s-supers are o-off planet.”

“The what are where? Nevermind.” Danny waved his hand dismissively and reached over his shoulder. He ducked his head a little as he withdrew a three foot metal rod from the back of his shirt.

“Uhhhh. . .” Bruise said.

Danny pulled another rod from a sleeve and a third from his pant leg.

“H-how, dude, j-just. . .just w-why?” Hood said.

Danny didn’t answer and reached underneath the back of his shirt to pull out a fourth. He stuck them in the ground straight up, making a square.

“W-what are y-you d-doing?” Robin asked.

“Building a cell tower.” Danny said and reached into his other pant leg, taking out another rod. And another. From his pocket, he pulled out a screwdriver and some screws.

“. . .N-nothing a-about you makes-s s-sense.” Hood commented.

Danny snorted.

“Y-you’re n-n-not aff-ffected by the c-cold. W-why?” Robin’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Uhhhhh. . .” Danny attached more rods together and screwed some screws. “I, uh. . .I was working out. Warmed me up a lot.” He lied. He knew it was bad. He was still going to drive it into the ground if they questioned it. “And I haven’t been here that long.”

Danny fished a large spool of wire from his back pocket and a pair of pliers from the other.

Robin watched him do it. He stared at him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing further. “Meta-human.”

“Gesundheit.”

The reply seemed to take the vigilantes by surprise, but said nothing of it. They were too busy shivering and huddling on the ground, trying to warm up. At least they didn’t seem to be getting worse.

Danny pulled rod after rod from his clothes. He began to retrieve them from the dirt and sand before it became too many to say it was physically possible to have this many pieces on his person. He had to have limits somewhere. 

“. . .How d-did you k-know those w-were th-th-there!?” Hood said.

“Umm. . .I come here often. What if I got stranded and needed to call someone? Or I spotted a UFO and needed to make contact? I buried these in the sand so no one would steal ‘em.”

“. . . W-were in the m-middle of t-the d-desert. I d-don’t think you n-need to w-worry about th-that. . .”

“You found me, didn’t you?”

“. . .”

“. . .”

Dannykept attaching, and screwing, and wiring, and plier-ing, until he was finally at the top of a twenty-foot tower, and affixing transceivers to it. With the ectoplasm Danny infused into it, it should be powerful enough to work.

He had considered making them a jet, but that might take too long. This way they could get help from the nearest civilization while they waited for pick-up.

  Danny climbed back down.

Even with their masks, the baffled astonishment was clear on the vigilante’s faces. “What the heck. . .” Bruise said faintly.

Danny ignored him and flicked a switch. “Give it a go.” He encouraged the vigilantes who looked to be shaking a little less.

They shared doubtful glances and checked their tech. “It works!” Hood exclaimed and immediately sent out an S.O.S.

Danny made an offended noise and held a hand to his chest. “You doubted me?”

“Yes.” The three said in unison.

“It’s a cell tower.” Hood continued. “How do you even know how to build that?”

“Eh.” Danny shrugged. “You pick a few things up when your parents have a lab in their basement for you to play around in growing up.”

There was a long pause. 

“That is highly concerning and explains almost nothing.”

Danny’s brows furrowed.

“Seriously. How are you here?”

Danny shrugged again. “I walked.” It wasn’t a lie.

Despite explaining he had a way back to Gotham, the vigilantes wouldn’t leave without him. They slept most of the way back.

Tag List: @okami-love @whataspectaclebear @thomasdimensor @observerblock23 @stargazer-luna

[tellurium-iron]

Proof: there's no fucking difference between racist, misogynistic ass memes, the over-emphasis on Brazilian women's figures, and these fanarts. I didn't even have to search hard for the sexualization to crop up. And like, every once in a while, there's just a miku at the beach in a normal manner, but the rest is garbage. It's a shame because this concept of insert!miku is fun.

what lovely brazilian miku you drew i hope it reveals no strange bias towards brazilian women

[spaghettioverdose]

Am I stupid or something because I agree with all of your post but I don't know what's wrong with small businesses. Am I a capitalist because I'm disabled and can only make money selling stickers or am I missing a bigger picture

Because this is tumblr and people in the notes will immediately read three lines of this and accuse me of pissing on the poor, I will begin with a disclaimer that I am neither comparing you to a Elon Musk nor calling you evil.

So, you sell stickers. I would assume that in this context you are selling your own stickers with your own designs, rather than working as a cashier selling someone else's stickers, since you're disabled and you mentioned you can't work a job. You are therefore selling a product you own (whether you produce the stickers entirely yourself or use a 3rd party company) for a profit at a (presumably) online store instead of selling your labour power for a wage. This, by definition would make you petit bourgeois.

When communists talk about class positions, it is not a question of an individual's morality, motivation or amount of income.

Being a small business owner (or petit bourgeois), means that your class interests and the class interests of the workers (the proletariat) come into conflict. As a clear example, let's say in this scenario that you are selling a sticker design on a 3rd party website that specialises in this service, and they source the actual physical stickers from factories around the world. Here, you are essentially selling your intellectual property to the company in exchange for some of the profits from its further sale. Perhaps many of those factories are in the global south, in countires with very low wages and few worker protections (due to intervention from imperial core bourgeoisie powers). One day, the political struggle for worker rights and higher wages is won in some of these countries, driving up the cost of production for the stickers. Perhaps there is also a victory for a union of delivery service workers at home in the imperial core, driving up wages and protections for them as well, further cutting into profits.

The function of the 3rd party sticker company is to strive for ever-increasing profits the capitalists who own it and its investors. The cut in profit will have to be made up elsewhere. This will be done by investing in political groups that are willing to repress worker movements within these countries, shifting production to countries that have yet to achieve these worker victories, cutting corners on their imperial core workers, increasing their price of service by taking a larger cut of your profits, or a mixture of some or all of these.

In that scenario, the proletarian class interests (higher wages, more protections and regulations) are in direct conflicts with the interests of the bourgeois 3rd party sticker company (higher profits, meaning lower wages and less protections and regulations) and by extension, yours, as your class interests also revolve around profit. When workers gain more power, it cuts into your profits. As a petit bourgeois, you are incetivised to support and pursue bourgeois and petty bourgeois politics such as IP laws.

As an individual, you can be whatever kind of person with whatever politics and views you have. As a petit bourgeois small business owner, you have a certain class position that comes with a certain set of class interests. You can always choose to forego your own class interests and instead support the class interests of the proletariat by being a communist even while continuing to be petit bourgeois or even as full on bourgeois. Very notable example being Engles who, although he was a factory owner, he was also one of the two founders of marxism, with the other one being Marx.

The point I was trying to make in the post that probably got you to send this anon, is that there isn't anything inherently communist or "leftist" about supporting small businesses. It is both an incredibly common liberal policy and talking point to support small business, and it does not serve the interests of a proletarian political movement to protect the petit bourgeoisie or ally with them, except in certain instances and involving certain sections of the petit bourgeois, rather than a blanket statement of saying that the small business owner is a nobler form of capitalist.

[whereserpentswalk]

You've been bitten by a werewolf. You didn't realize it at first of course. You were upstate on a camping trip and what looked like a distressed and out of place wolf just went up to you, and as you tried to fend it off with a rake it bit you. You assumed it was an escaped illegal pet due to how rare wolves are nowadays, but you were screened for rabies anyway just due to the way it behaved. Turns out it's a werewolf.

You're terrified, terrified that you'll hurt someone, possibly even someone you love. The suggestion that almost every piece of media about werewolves has given you is that you're a danger to everyone around you. The only two methods of dealing with it that you know of are taking drugs with life altering side effects, or being locked somewhere for the night.

Before even the first full moon of the month you look at a form for other werewolves. Turns out a lot of people who are freshly bitten have these types of fears and come there for help. The form explicitly discourages anyone from thinking of themselves as dangerous. There are almost no lethal werewolf attacks, any safety tips they have for you are going to purely center around the fact that humans might hurt you while you're a wolf. Especially for an urban werewolf like you where being caught risks institutionalization, something you though of as neutral but most of the form is very much agaisnt.

Their main suggestion for your safety is to stay with a freind who has space to take care of you, someone who you know well enough so that you'll trust even while in full wolf form. If you can go somewhere forested for the night, though that's more a tip about enjoying being a wolf then being at your maximum safety.

You also probably will be a creature somewhere between a wolf and a human for the nights before and after the full moon, depending on the exact nature of your condition you might experience some amount of partial change for up to about ten days out of the month. When that starts to happen the assumption is that you'll have enough of your mind to be able to be alone, and the suggestion is just that you stay in an area where people are accepting.

Your first night is the night before the full moon. Your half wolf half human for the entire night. Your worried you'll slip away from your identity so much that you'll hurt someone. You don't. Everything is largely fine. You're worried though. So very worried.

The next night you stay with a freind, as they suggested. You don't remember anything. Your freind said that they were afraid of you at first, ready to shoot you with a shotgun you didn't know they had. But in the end you just sort of sat there like a big dog, and trusted them as much as you would when you were in human form.

As time goes on it becomes more casual. You don't think of it as a big deal. You realize how low the likelihood of actually hurting someone is. Some full moons you spend being protected by freinds and treated like a weird pet, other nights you go to the woods, and enjoy the feelings of running around. The nights before and after the full moon, you just treat like any other night, only really having to deal with people's perception of you as a difference.

Over time you learn how people treat you differently. You have to disclose everything to your employer, which makes finding a job far harder. It's harder to rent an apartment. Most first world countires outside America won't let you in. You can't buy a weapon in most states, can't get most insurance. Even the medical system has set you to automatically do not resuscitate. You can't even really date outside the werewolf community now, or occasionally withbrealated communities like witches or vampires, but most normal humans don't trust you.

People who know you worry to much. They suggest every restrictive solution you discarded in the first month. People want you to move "somewhere safer", wherever that it. They want you to take things you know won't cure you, or buy into whatever pseudoscience they've gotten a hold of. People are worried you'll hurt someone even when you're so very sure you'll be fine.

It was never that you were a wolf. It was that everyone else was that everyone else thought of you as one.

[jazzstir]

I know I haven’t posted in a white but I will start doing so again!! The creator of the animation is @ZaboveNaught on YouTube!

SUPPORT YEMEN!! With the recent attack on Yemen and the continuing genocide happeneing in Palestine and in dozens of other countires make sure you speak out and do what you can to spread there voices!

Here is a link with ways you can help Palestine

https://linktr.ee/ultimatecommunityforpalestine

[carawayshalldie]

'the law' they say as if US law were the only existing judicial System in the world

Friday March 31.

Tumblr's Friday Explainer: Indictment.

For no reason, no reason whatsoever, absolutely none at all, we have decided to take you good folks with us on a little lesson in law. And no, not bird law, The Law; criminal law, to be precise. Every day is a school day, after all, so we figured there was no better time than this, the 31st, the last day of March 2023, to give you a little schooling on "Indictment". It is an important step in the legal process, and you never know, it may come in handy: you yourself may fancy yourself as a hotshot lawyer, or maybe you just can't get enough of crime dramas such as Better Call Saul, Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, Boston Legal, or indeed Suits. It could even give you a helping hand navigating the noisy, complex world of #us politics. You know. For example.

Well, curious critters, at a basic level, an indictment consists of a formal written list of what a suspect is accused of. An indictment, it is important to remember, is not a conviction—instead, it means that a prosecutor may move forward with criminal charges. Gosh, isn't that interesting!

With that, you can go about your Friday safe in the knowledge of your newfound, well, knowledge. And you're in good company, too, because as luck would have it, Tumblr's indictment fandom community are all beside themselves with excitement today. For reasons, admittedly, still a little unclear. 

[literallys-illiteracy]

[ID: Pen and Pencil drawing of 'punishing bird' from Lobotomy Corporation Top text: The Small Bird decided to punish the creatures' wrongdoings with its beak. Center text: 'Day: October 8th. Punishing Bird/Small Bird' End ID.]

EGOtober day 8, Punishing Bird/Small bird. Ignore the fact that i didnt do days 1-7, I was in like 3 different countires in the past week and didnt have enough energy to do the other abno's. maybe ill go back and do some that i like

[akwolfgrl]

LFT PART 43

They all sat on the drying deck after escaping Loguetown, except Sanji who got up to make snacks/lunch for everyone. Sanji's cat crawled into his lap making itself comfy kneading at his leg. He felt eyes on him. He looked up to see Usopp's confusion, Luffy was just staring at the cat maybe with hunger? And Nami was cooing at the cat.

“Ummm when did we get a cat?” Usopp asked.

“Zoro got it for Sanji as a courting gift, while an odd gift. I suppose though it would be useful, they are considered to be good luck,” Nami explained. “Luffy he's not to be eaten, Sanji would be very hurt if you ate his pet,” she wanted their captain.

She had a point unfortunately, he was looking at the little black cat as if he would make a nice snack. Zoro stroked the cat's back, it arched under his hand purring.

“Fine, can I touch him?” Luffy asked, reaching out a long arm.

“Sure, if he lets you,” The cat would just do whatever it felt like doing, sometimes they were friendly and other times they were selective about who they would allow to touch them.

The cat reached out with one paw to bat at Luffy's hand. Luffy wiggled his fingers causing him to go after the rubber digits with both paws standing on his back legs as he attacked their captain.

“Awwwwww he's so cute!” Nami cooed.

“Look at him go! So ferocious you get those fingers kitty cat!” Usopp cheered the cat on.

Luffy laughed and continued to wiggle his fingers as the cat made little growls as it batted away until he took a worng step and tumbled out of Zoro's lap. He got up with his back arched, fur standing straight up. He lets out a soft chuckle as the cat begins to hop sideways towards Luffy.

“Jungle cat vs rubber, who will win!?” Usopp began to narrate as the scene began to unfold.

The cat countired to attack luffys hand as luffys hand incited the cat into action. The cat warped its paws around Luffys wirst and kicked its back paws agaist his arm and bit at luffys fingers not drawing blood. Both luffy and sanjis cat were having a great time.

“Lunch time! I made sushi and cocktails! Also Luffy like I promised for not eating Mt fish you made you seared tuna steaks eatch one a different seasoning,” Love cook came over Laden with trays. He eve had one a top his head. “Luffy the top is yours,”

“Yosh!” Luffy stopped playing with the cat a reached for the plate on Sanji's head. He imditly shoved a steak in his mouth. “Oooo it's kinda sour and lemony! I like it!”

“Hey shit-cook, I think you burned one,” Zoro pointed to the next one Luffy was swolling whole.

“I most certainly did not, it's call blackened it's a type of seasoning,” He responded handing Nami an orange looking cocktail with a sparkly looking peel. “For you my dear it's a screwdrive granshised with a candy minka peel,”

“Ooo,” Nami took a sip. “Mmm delish thank you sanji,”

“You welcome Nani swan,” Zoro watched as he passed out the other cocktails. “Usopp this is a Pina colda, luffy a blue lagoon. And for the moss a sake bomb,” Sanji handed him a glass of beer with chopsticks and a sho glass of sake on top. Zoro pulled the chopsticks away and the sake shot feel into the beer. “Eat up!” Sanji placed the large platter of sushi on the ground int he middle of everyone takeikg a small plate of just raw fish. “Mr. Noodles here kitty,” Zoro snorted into his drink luckily not spilling a thing. The cat now dubed Mr. Noddles imidlty ran to sanji and the fish.

“Mr. Noddles?” Nami questioned while Luffy laughed his ass off. “What kinda name is that?”

“What's wrong with the name? I think it's cute, and its to late to change it I've made up my mind,”

“But why food?”

“I'm more worried about if the cat, Mr. Noddles is even gonna be safe!” Usopp worried.

“why wouldn't it be?” Zoro asked. “the lady said it was a good gift for a ships cook,”

“Zeff had one, her name was Clementine. She even went to the grand line with them; she only recently died of old age. She was almost thirteen years old, she lasted longer than Zeffs crew who all drowned in a strom,”

“Yah Usopp the cat will be fine,” Zoro used his chopsticks to take some sushi before Luffy ate it all.

“Mr. Noodles is our new member!! We need to have a party!” Luffy declared before shoveling sushi in his mouth.

[restingcorpse]

Hello fellow vampires and tumblerians, are we in the joyous Christmas spirit?

I'll be celebrating tomorrow cuz that's just how we do it in Sweden, idk about anyone else but I've heard it can be different in other countires. If anyone gives a shit or 2 I might show or tell you what Santa (my family) got me this year.

God Jul små spöken!!

[heljar-heimur]

Most people do, or should have. But I have encountered people who didn't believe Iceland was real. We barely exist on some maps.

Airport peeps are often interested in the Icelandic passport because its very pretty. But I've also heard of border control guards who had to check if the pass was real because they hadn't heard of the country thought it was a fake pass from a fake country.

I kinda have to agree with this anon. Saying just what country I'm from tends to be the "safest" option. Especially since when I tell people what country I'm from, their response is "is that a state of Mexico?"

Another story is of here in Berlin, when I went to open a bank account, the person that has my passport to add me into the system or smth asked me where I'm from (meaning country) so I answered. Then she said," No, what country are you from" I motioned to my passport and answered verbally again. She then said," I have never heard of that country. I don't think it'll be in the system." It was

--

Jesus. Don't people have geography class when they're kids?

[dreamstate4you]

A journey of revenge

-> 1k words

-> Mizu x male reader

The romance is there... If you squint very hard.

Mizu and Ringo were on their way to Edo. Why? simple Alijah was heading there with his army to kill the shogun and Mizu would be there to kill Alijah.

The plan was simple. The journey wouldn't be too long,but mizu wanted to see someone in a familiar shop that was along their path.

Mr Shoto's shop. He secretly sold explosives illegally to try and rise funds for himself and his twin boys ,but on the outside he was a rundown shop that sold food to anyone willing to eat there.

Mizu and Ringo stood outside the shop. Ringo's curious nature getting the better of him as he started to ask "what are we doing here, Master?" he asked innocently.

Mizu answered him with silence. "stay here Ringo, I'll be back." and just like that mizu left Ringo outside and stepped inside the rundown wodden shop.

It was empty. It made sense considering this was a food shop in the middle of the forest. Behind the counter was a man. He was behind the counter. Looking down at his book records.

He looked up at the sound of the wooden door closing. Before he could say anything. One of the twins run from behind the counter to mizu.

"uncle mizu!" he said so enthusiasticly. His other younger twin shyly following behind him "hello, uncle mizu." he said less enthusiasticly.

Mizu couldn't help but smile at the younger kids that came to embrace him.

She had often bought most of her explosive or any illegals the owner had. Not only because she needed them, but she wanted to help raise funds for the owner and his kids.

"There's my favorite customer." the owner said from behind the counter, Leaning on his side. The boys giggled cheerfully and run off to wherever ever they were going of to play.

"Nagi." mizu said with a small smile. Mizu and Nagi had an interesting history together.

Nagi was a young father, his wife was killed by samurais which lead to him hating Samurai's with his life. He swore to kill the one who took away the mother of his kids. Nagi soon wondered off and found swordfathers home, a sword maker where many Sumurai's come. It seemed like the God were smiling down on him, he hoped to catch and punish the one who wronged him.

Nagi watched from the shadows like a hawk. He watched the Sumurai's enter and leave, he watched the old blind man make swords for these evil, cruel man.

But... There was a child. Nagi noticed a small child that was following around the blind man. He looked small, thin, maybe 7 years younger than him.

At first he thought the blind man had bought the young child as a slave.

Nagi acted without thinking. When he saw the young child alone outside, gathering wood he rushed out from the shadows and tackled them to the ground, covering the child's mouth with their hand so they wouldn't attract the old man's attention.

The two tossed and turned until mizu bite Nagi's hand. "ouch! I'm trying to save you here." magi exclaimed as he slowly backed away from the child, who was still standing alarmed.

"I don't need saving." mizu took a stance that she had always observed from the Samurai's that always came here.

"what do you mean you don't need saving." Nagi said frustrated. "you're a slave for that man... Aren't you?"

"no."

Oh

"he takes care of me."

Nagi stood there like a fool trying to process what mizu said. Eventually Nagi left, but the two had bumped into each other from time to time.

Nagi's frustration and hate to the samurais was slowly being extinguished, the flames were started to yield and Nagi was finding peace, all because of mizu.

Mizu wanted to be a samurai, Nagi couldn't possibly think of killing any samurais after seeing this short little boy try so hard to weild a stick that clearly held more strength than him.

And so the two grew, Nagi opened up a restaurant, a face of what he really sold. He was never proud, but he needed a way to provide for his family, his boys.

Maybe if he saved enough he would move countires, flee and start a new life away from any deadly swords.

"so did you finally kill those white man?" Nagi brought mizu's attention back to Reality.

"no." mizu moved and took a set, Nagi following after her. "I'm going to kill one of them soon."

"Then what are you doing here?" he questioned the samurai.

Mizu placed a heavy pouche of money, filled with gold coins that could be used wherever in the world, on the table. "I came to give you money."

Nagi seemed confused at first.

"use this money to get away, far from Here, far from Japan. You... You and your kids can finally have a happy life." mizu said, her voice slightly slipping with emotions as she spoke.

"mizu." Nagi said her name breathlessly. "thank you." He accepted the pouche. This money would be more than enough. The samurai stood up from her seat, ready to leave.

Nagi reached out trying to say something. "Mizu, wait I-", but before he could say anything the twins rushed back into the shop. Giggling to each other as the proudly stood next to mizu. The oldest held out something, it was a miniature katana, made from sticks and tied together with leaves.

"we wanted to give you this, Uncle mizu." the twin said proudly. Mizu held the miniature sword in her hands, looking at it and looking back at the kids.

This warmed her cold, frozen heart.

She smiled. A genuine smile, a Rare smile, a smile like a proud mother.

She bended down and hugged bother the boys, embracing the young kids she grew to adore. "thank you, boys."

Mizu stood up and looked back at their father "you were saying."

"... Be careful." Nagi said, almost above a whisper.

Mizu noded at him before making her way outside, she was on her journey to Edo, a journey of revenge.