#phima

[onepiece-lov]

Nefeltari Vivi OP04-001 Alt Art by phima from Booster Pack -KINGDOMS OF INTRIGUE- [OP-04]

[mastomysowner]

by phima(フィマ)@avisel_

I drew Charlotte Angel for the booster pack "Two Legends [OP-08]" of the ONE PIECE card game, which will be released on May 25th. I hope you enjoy it! 🥂

[444names]

male azerbaijani and persian forenames

Abdolkh Afiruz Aghomang Ahbad Aheil Ahrokh Akber Akhand Akhmamid Akhman Alahya Alardar Aleghow Alirzad Allahin Andya Arafa Araffars Aramid Arback Arbar Ardess Arezadia Arezam Ariar Ariarya Arimadi Arius Ariush Arsad Arsif Arteyman Arvirour Arzad Arzhajun Arziar Arzin Asbachah Ashail Ashamak Ashayar Astayar Atahya Atani Atrez Attani Aturoz Avang Aveed Avesfar Avushi Azhmoz Baber Bahrdar Bahya Bakhzad Bamal Bamaz Bamsham Bamya Barba Barders Barsh Baubardi Bazdars Behram Behroz Behseb Behzaf Berafsh Berdavab Bershasb Bodad Borkhman Camizad Dadar Dadik Dadjid Daliar Daramaz Darbod Darhajy Daria Daryar Darzad Davansb Daveen Dehnamsh Dhajeed Dhang Dolkhah Doudad Ehrdi Elkhad Elkhamiz Elkht Elmarab Emamar Emamasgh Eshad Eshan Estab Estashi Etehrooz Eteydar Etezad Faffaria Fafshid Faghardi Fahmoun Faigueb Fandi Faramboz Farback Farbam Fardia Farezang Farhan Faria Fariom Fariya Fariz Farmeed Farraf Farrour Farsam Farsh Farshar Farvid Faryan Faryar Farza Farzail Farzamad Ferdi Ferjam Ferjan Fersana Fervid Firez Firoktya Forgmeed Forkhmar Fornaman Forokhur Forovid Forzadi Fuade Gardi Garharz Gazsia Ghaffaid Ghahk Gheeman Ghoodar Givan Goosh Gooyars Gormonma Goroo Goroohr Gorosh Goroz Gosham Goshia Gouchin Gouref Gultahr Hadiar Hadiaviz Hahin Hahroz Hahvar Hahyad Hahyarz Hariush Haryar Harzia Hashk Hayooz Hayvan Heber Heymaj Hobabam Hobahran Hojjan Hojtahid Hoosra Hooyasb Horgmehr Horna Hortosat Hoshab Hoshack Houriya Howan Howansb Huria Huroshin Irokh Jatahr Javabr Javasha Javer Javervid Javin Javiruz Javta Javtayar Jidrezam Jidromaj Jivader Kamad Kamamra Kamar Kamid Kamin Kamiz Kammang Kaniya Karab Karamman Kardar Kasha Kavab Kavir Kayvang Kayvash Kerjavoo Keyed Keyvafar Keyvon Khakh Khaschi Khmail Khmozad Khtang Khtash Khzad Kiarz Kiuman Kiush Kiusha Kiyavan Komehahr Koosh Kooshad Koushash Kuseped Kusia Madesh Maher Mahkam Mahran Majun Malah Manewsh Mangeed Manvar Marrour Marsa Marsif Marya Maschir Mashan Mayar Mazad Mazsimif Meemad Mehrash Mehrour Mohriz Mohyars Mojjam Monam Moosh Mooyahia Moroun Moucher Moudik Mouma Mouraf Mousha Mozam Mozooz Mubar Mubarhar Namsha Navarand Needraz Neghari Nemaj Nemajun Newsh Newshin Newshy Nimiz Niyar Niyood Noumak Nouram Oqtahram Oqtan Oqtasb Orbar Orgmehr Orzad Orzhmon Paneen Parab Parbar Parimad Parmehza Parrow Pasalad Pashah Payan Payarsal Payousia Pehahr Pehrz Pejma Peymour Peymoz Peyyed Pezad Phiavang Phiavar Phima Pirour Poerdan Poers Poosh Poudi Poudik Poura Pouref Pouriar Poyad Poyar Poyaram Pujmad Pujmaz Qabar Qabtid Qoroushk Qorza Rabizad Raffar Rafsha Ramad Ramman Ransb Rasad Razsi Roshraf Sabil Saeen Salad Salahr Salegaz Salir Samandik Sambijat Sambil Samid Samya Sanavass Sanoun Sasha Satta Satur Sepez Seymad Seyvan Seyvar Shaber Shack Shadi Shafars Shahang Shahmash Shahros Shail Shamid Shatin Shirovid Shkaveed Showang Shran Shtab Shzamaik Siakhtab Sifaghat Sifar Siman Soheyir Sohsad Sohyars Soonamid Soosh Soosha Sooshan Sorasb Souchari Soumam Soushid Suhad Suhanoub Syarim Tabeh Tahrafsh Tamid Tashak Tehnak Teyab Teyvan Teyvana Tezad Tiyaveed Tooshy Vafshid Vireyyed Vlahri Vlahya Yanoun Yardad Yardar Yarzan Yusha Yushan Zadeh Zadha Zahya Zahyan Zahyar Zaligul Zamad Zamarid Zamdad Zamid Zamifar Zamyar Zanagh

[cipheramnesia]

Boredom gestated in days of coming and going from the little hotel room, walking in nonsense patterns all over the city. They filed reports in triplicate, Sy shed pollen, and once in awhile granular seeds dropped off the plants he'd stuck to himself. It was routine, as far as the clutching fingers of the empath/morality scanning and endless cameras were concerned. As with any emotional resonance, boredom required layering, and Doc had been folding over a pastry of dull apathy into a crystal matrix to allow her to cross-map it into the language processing psyche of other forms of sentience.

Every day, Loren hung up his coat with a wyjack stone sewn into the lining along with a series of copper antennae loop feeds. Doc fed the monitors in the hotel room a hot brick of utter disinterest and the wyjack stone looped three days of randomized coming and going feed through their helpful state sponsored nannycams.

"Nice to see you still have the touch." Loren sat on the bed and rubbed his face.

"Muddy castles," Doc said, "basin starved." She dropped a blank sysnet keyboard on the bed and jabbed at it repeatedly, grinning around the room. "Anything goes on the average repeat." She stabbed some of her sharper cystals into the cheap polyplast bedside table and scratched it up.

"There goes the deposit," Ngyuen said. She and Sy were slotting big PhiMa filter drums into the transynthetic material release flash cutter, or the drillvana as Loren kept calling it, which was built out of some of the equipment they'd been pretending to use the past few days.

Sy pulled flat white glasses over his face, a shield from release of the material plane. "We were never getting that back," he said, as Loren and Nguyen put their own eye shields up. He and Ngyuen angled the drillvana down and he pushed the joystick forward. The floor of their room snapped out of existence, fully convinced it was unnecessary to the material world. Layer after layer snapped away, filling the room with acrid synthscendence afterburn until a blast of stale and fetid air announced the sewer line.

Originally the drillvana had been designed for military use, but even the most complex reverse ethic-preguilt binding hadn't been able to protect the user from catastrophic backblast when it was used on living targets. It had been relegated to construction use after the small asteroid testing facility and everyone in or on it spontaneously turned into an equal mass of botfly maggots, which promptly died in the vacuum of space.

"Creative scaled downward!," Doc said, throwing a crystal through the steam into the sewerpipe. It made a gray clatter, flickered in the mists. Loren coughed and waved at the smoke. Sy took off his glasses and grabbed some of their kit, along with Ngyuen.

"Who wants to go first nevermind." Sy rolled his eyes and followed Doc ever downwards as the woman burst into a rare 9th century Pancsovanian aria.

Nguyen looked at Loren. Loren took a breath. "She's the best at what she does," he said. "Whatver that is."

Nguyen slapped his shoulder. "Relax. This is the easy part, remember?"

○ ○ ○ ○ ○

"What's up with the coms today?"

"Buggy as shit, worse than usual. Plus there's some mutt nonsense going on."

"Oh what, another sit-in about the bands. Fuckin zoophiles. Ungrateful liberals."

"Nah, sounds like actual mutts trying to run a rally. Half the precincts went out to bust some butts."

"Shit, we miss all the good stuff. Did I tell you how a wolf almost bit my sister's kid?"

"Lissen, I know they're dangerous but if I have to hear you tell that story again I'll eat my own taser. Dispatch, helloooo anyone at all, over?"

"Phnfmssh cmdnnkk tk dddt shhhdl."

"Wow."

"Anyway, you think we missed out? Check it, I finally got the file. Wanna see who we got in the back?"

"Sure- Huh, well that's a hell of a rap sheet. Laika, what? Blackwood? Where's she from with that kinda name."

"Here, she just had it changed. Look at that though. Her own family, and a bunch of hunters, maybe more if we get a confession."

"Ha. We'll get one alright. Hey little puppy, hear that? Someone's gonna go to the pound and this ain't one of those no-kill shelters either."

"Oh look at her snarling, I love when they act all scary. Here we go, we got netmail. Some kind of radical wolf freedom terrorists running amok, they got no room. Says drop her off at the Citadel."

"I'm not spending all night going to Citadel Enforcement, let's just have an accident on the way."

"I need to make my quota, and the overtime's good. I can log you out, if you wanna drop."

"Sure, drop me by the 12th on the way. I'll owe ya one. Say night to Spruce and Marcos for me."

"Watch your back, some of the mutts are supposed to have bombs."

"That's funny. Lucky if they can even pronounce 'Improvised Explosive Device.'"

"You crack me up. Say hi to Ilsa for me."

"Her name's Melissa, jerk."

...

"Just you and me now. Oh don't glare at me, you got off easy, barely half a beating."

...

"Anyway enjoy the floor back there, because you know what happens with bitches at Citadel Enforcement. Well, let me fill you in, it's in the same building as Scientific Innovation for a reason. Haa!"

...

"Heh. Yeah. Laika's a dumb name anyway."

Part 7: The Tower

a story by @rox-and-prose and @cipheramnesia

Dusk turned the Nevamil sky a flat aquamarine, and made visible the red lights blinking atop the Citadel. It was the tallest building in the capital city, Aureodar, even visible from the far off gridded streets of old houses converted into apartments. The last time Laika had seen it was a field trip for school.

The little blue Kirov was somewhere between the mountains and Genghis Khan and the most anonymous hopper port they'd been able to find in Aureodar. She worried about Sy, seemed ages past she'd been this physically far, though it was hardly more than weeks. Wires and talismans crossed over the streets, bikes and busses swooshed wet pavement, and linecars screeched overhead, all wrapped around her and her backpack and familiar unknown faces of the United Eastquad Block.

Ghosts gathered around her, whispering. You keep coming back here little wolf girl, you'll never get away from this place. Little wolf girl, you know you belong here. Freak. Queer. Sissy. Killer. Monster. You thought you were better than us, you never were. Laika let them needle and claw her. They were her ghosts, not the other way round. Every horrible word only built her up. Luna was with her in that way.

Most of the houses on K Street were mods, from early to late first century post-terraform. They were all retrofited from the original single family modules, but they were tough as nails, old construction built to weather thr storms of atmosphere generation. Number 1132 was where she was headed, lights were still on in the third floor windows.

Laika took a last look around on the front door's stoop. The poles for street lights and warden ropes all had at least three CCTV cameras and arrayed parabolic empathy receivers tuned into psychic conflict between morality and legality. She flashed a tight little smile at the familiar old glass eye of the state before pulling a short crowbar out of her bag and cracking the door open.

The third floor smelled of some sharp, fragrant allium along with sweet woody flavors and cooking meat, enough to rouse her stomach. Deep breath, ignore the ghosts, knock. A woman with her black hair in a bob cut, rolled up sleeves on her billowy dress, a little sweaty and confused, almost a quarter meter shorter than Laika. A wave of gaming sounds, net music, and oven warmth joined them both on the landing.

"Hey Tara," Laika said.

The other woman looked closer. "Laika? Oh tides, it is!" She wrapped Laika up in a big soft hug inside thick arms, crushing her stick body. "I thought you, I don't know, I thought you were dead! I mean, there were rumors?"

"Uff! Uh, hey. Sorry to be like, unannounced. Is it okay if I come in?" Laika hesitantly patted Tara's shoulders until the hug relaxed and her feet were back on the floor.

"You just have to, please. I'm sorry, when did you get back, why didn't you call?"

Unlacing her boots and slipping them off, she said, "I just got back today, um. I've been a bit off the net you know." She dipped her hand in the tiny basin by the door and thumbed a drop of water on the polished river stone at the altar. "But I wanted to see how you'd been, I guess. It just, well it's weird. That smells amazing."

She saw a couple kids blasting through uncreatively humanoid aliens, loudly and luridly across the living room screen, followed Tara into the kitchen and dinette area and watched her stir around sizzling veggies and meat in a wide dish. "Thanks," Tara said. "The spawn over there don't always appreciate it, but you know how... well, how kids can be..." Tara frowned awkwardly.

"Yeah, uh. Yeah." Laika rubbed the back of her neck. "So what all have you heard?"

Tara stuttered with a little embarassment. In the distance Laika could very faintly hear sirens, but she knew they weren't for her. The people who would come for her didn't use sirens or advertise their presence.

Half paying attention to Tara, she added, "Well, uh, some is true. But... you knew it was bad at home. Stuff happened. What about you though? Like, two kids? Wow!"

Tara probably was relieved at the change of topic, and Laika was glad to take a minute, but she couldn't focus all the way. She was waiting.

[congxepinoxphima-blog]

Chuyên thiết kế thi công cửa cổng xếp inox Phi Mã

[07068396803-tt]

Jigawa health team on study tour of Kano PHIMA

Jigawa health team on study tour of Kano PHIMA

The Executive Secretary, Private Health Institutions Management Agency (PHIMA), Dr. Usman Tijjani Aliyu has received a delegation from Jigawa State ministry of Health, on a study tour in his office. Solacebase reports that Kano State Private Health Institutions Management Agency, is an agency under the state ministry of health responsible for supervising private health facilities activities so as…

[notimundo]

New Post has been published on https://notimundo.com.mx/sociedad/lavado-de-manos-fundamental-para-prevenir-covid-19/

Lavado de manos, fundamental para prevenir COVID-19 y otras enfermedades

Ante la contingencia mundial por COVID-19, el lavado o higiene de manos es clave para prevenir ésta y otras enfermedades, por ello, el Instituto Mexicano del Seguro Social (IMSS) ha implementado diversas estrategias para fomentar esta actividad, aseguró la Enfermera Olga Soto Hernández.

La coordinadora de programas de Enfermería adscrita a la coordinación de Atención Integral de Segundo Nivel, explicó que la Organización Mundial de la Salud (OMS) ha establecido una técnica básica para la correcta higienización de manos, la cual debe durar de 20 a 40 segundos.

Con motivo del Día Mundial del Lavado de Manos, que se conmemora este 15 de octubre, la enfermera del IMSS precisó que “para lograr una técnica correcta en el lavado de manos es necesario contar con los insumos necesarios: agua, jabón, toallas y alcohol gel al 70 por ciento”.

La enfermera Soto Hernández subrayó que el IMSS se suma a las campañas de concientización sobre la higiene de manos que encabezan la Organización Mundial de la Salud y Panamericana de la Salud, a través de la estrategia “Cinco de Cinco”.

“A través de cinco sencillos pasos, los profesionales de la salud y la población en general podrán estar libres de virus y bacterias para prevenir alguna enfermedad respiratoria o intestinal, el cual consiste en mojar, enjabonar, frotar, enjuagar y secar”, precisó la coordinadora de Programas de Enfermería del Segundo Nivel de Atención del IMSS.

Detalló que la técnica correcta para lavar o higienizar las manos consiste en humedecerlas, tomar una cantidad suficiente de jabón y friccionar las palmas; posteriormente los dorsos y continuar entre los dedos; acto seguido frotar los nudillos y el espacio que existe entre el dedo pulgar y el índice, para finalmente, friccionar las uñas sobre las palmas y enjuagar.

La enfermera Olga Soto Hernández apuntó que en el IMSS los profesionales de la salud se rigen bajo el Programa de Higiene de Manos (PHIMA), el cual indica paso a paso la correcta higienización previa auscultación del paciente así como de cualquier otro procedimiento.

En este sentido, agregó que “es obligatorio que todos los profesionales de la salud, no solo médicos y enfermeras, sino todos los que contribuimos en la atención de los derechohabientes debemos de saber la técnica en el lavado de manos y los momentos correctos durante el mismo”.

Recordó que la enfermera Florence Nightingale fue pionera en las técnicas de asepsia para la atención de pacientes, esto, al detectar que los enfermos se agravaban al llevar a cabo técnicas inadecuadas; por ello, su primera acción de mejora en este campo fue implementar la higiene o lavado de manos en todas sus colaboradoras previo a cualquier procedimiento médico.

La coordinadora de Programas de Enfermería en el Segundo Nivel de Atención invitó a la población a reflexionar en este tiempo de pandemia, la cual está abatiendo a muchas personas en todo el mundo, por ello, “tenemos que unirnos y sumarnos a esta técnica tan fácil, sencilla y pareciera tan barata, sin embargo, debería de tener mayor importancia en la población para generar un bienestar”.

[diamo-chan]

Throw them pretty ML - OCs my way and let me gush over them … PLS

Like @mademoisellejihan ‘s Hana for instance, isn,t she gorgeous. she already had me at ‘white hair’. let that cutie-pie come to life. Lemme praise them all, those people we put into that mansion in our own minds

when I saw moping Ethan I instantly thought of this scene, dont ask me why, I dont understand how my brain works.

[memorandumcoid]

Fakultas Vokasi Unair Fasilitasi Pelatihan UMKM di Kecamatan Genteng

Fakultas Vokasi Unair Fasilitasi Pelatihan UMKM di Kecamatan Genteng

Surabaya, memorandum.co.id – Tim Fakultas Vokasi Unair memberikan pelatihan dan pendampingan terhadap para pelaku Usaha Mikro Kecil dan Menengah (UMKM) di Paguyuban Genteng Kreatif Surabaya. Kegiatan ini bertujuan agar terjadi peningkatan pemasaran digital dan pengelolaan keuangan para pelaku UMKM khususnya dalam menghadapi krisis pandemi ini. Teknik pemasaran produk UMKM selama ini dilakukan…

[kewltie]

As the sun starts to set, the procession stops at an inn just outside of Shinwei for the night.  Earlier, Captain Kirishima had went ahead of them and cleared out any other guests staying at the inn. He had the proprietors closed it down to only to members of the procession and had set up a secured perimeter around the area. While the inn is not small by any means, housing twenty rooms that span across three floors, it still couldn’t fit the entire procession of the Furie’s entourage so most of the Kurenai’s Royal Guards were forced to camp outside.

That leaves a few highly trained guards, a slew of servants, and then there is Izuku and the Furie himself. Every one of them bleeds for Kurenai, but Izuku is the only full-blooded Ashein among them. He has been the only Ashein on this leg of the trip since the moment he had stepped off the ship and on to this brutal and unforgiving continent.

The night before they had landed on Kurenai, his nursemaid Phima had begged, “You must survive, my prince, and come back to us one day.”

Choked up with tears and longing, Izuku couldn’t offer any consoling words to her then, except for a simple nod and a forceful hug, but they both already knew then that he would never step a foot back on his homeland. This will be the last time they’ll ever see each other again.

Even if his future lies in Kurenai now, his heart will be forever with his mother and father and siblings in evergreen Ashein. They may place the crown of Kurenai on him and its soil beneath him, but he will live as an Ashein until his body is finally lay to rest.

Phima and the rest of Izuku’s escorts had traveled with him across the Seven Seas but as soon as they had anchored on the shore of one of Kurenai’s biggest ports, they had dropped Izuku off with the Captain of the Royal Guards, Kirishima Eijirou. They’d soon departed back to Ashein after that, carrying with them the message to Izuku’s father that they had delivered their prince safely to the home fortress of their enemies.

They left Izuku with nothing but several trunks full of his personal belonging and hope in his chest that he alone can change the resentment in these people’s heart and sway the Furie’s affection toward him. Izuku is truly alone now. Alone in a foreign land, among his former enemies, and steeped in a culture and language so different from his own. It’s a heavy burden to carry.

He cannot show any sign of weakness. Peace is no absolute guarantee for complicity. Their hard won peace is flimsy at best and held together by the thin thread of marriage. Izuku must not forget it.

Dinner that night is a quiet affair for them. Upon Izuku’s request, they eat out in the inn's foyer. All the tables are occupied, but the only one eating is Izuku and the Furie. He tries not to let it unnerved him, but Royal Guards and several servants are seated among the other tables and though there are low conversations stirring, it’s mostly just Izuku and the Furie who takes center stage once more.

The food is spicy and colorful. The flavor swings from one extreme to another. Too salty, too sweet, and a little too much, kind of like the Kurenai themselves; a place of extreme—extreme landscapes, extreme weathers, and extreme people. This is after all the country where they once said the royal lines flow the blood of ancient dragons.

Whether or not that’s true, Izuku will find out soon enough.

He quietly eats his dinner even though they took a while to get used to, especially when nearly everything on the table is unrecognizable to him. The Furie sat across from him and dutifully eats his meal in silence as though it was an everyday occurrence to him to dine with his future husband and Izuku does his best to imitate his cool indifference. But it’s not easy when the head of a fish sank in a spicy curry throws Izuku’s off for a second and he’s so distracted by its large lifeless eyes staring back at him that he doesn’t notice someone is approaching him from behind.

Arms shoot out, a yell rang in the air, a scramble of bodies and the next thing Izuku knows a bowl of boiling liquid lands right in Izuku’s lap. It spills over his thigh, soaking through the fabric of his robes and it even got his right arm and all the way down to his hand.

Izuku screams, the scalding hot liquid burns at exposed his skin and his right side hurt so badly like a thousand stinging nettles. 

He hears a vitriol of Kure thrown at him and he turns around with shaky legs to see a young girl struggling against a guard’s hold, face twisted with pure hatred as she glares at him. It was the same serving girl from the inn who’d brought food to them earlier, she had even offered him reassuring a smile at his confusion of some of dishes arriving at his table.

Now she looks upon with so much revulsion that Izuku could feel it emanating from her. He doesn’t understand it, but he knows whatever words she’s saying is not kind.

“Your Highness!” one of his attendants shouts in horror, rising up in from his seat at a nearby table. He and several others rush over to Izuku to tend to his injuries. “Are you alright?!”

They spoke over each other in a flurry of Kure that Izuku can barely catch, dropping A’she from their tongue completely. Someone places a cold towel over his hand to cool the burnt and another wipes off the soup residue on the skirt of his robe. Many hands carefully tend to him, but Izuku doesn’t even pay any attention to it.

His eyes and ears are train on his soon to be husband as Katsuki yells something over the girl’s cry and more guards quickly rise up. They rush over to her and grab her by the arm, pushing her to the floor in a loud thump

“I’m fine,” Izuku insists, distractedly as two of the guards unsheathed their sword on her. “I’m fine,” he says louder, brushing his attendants’ intrusive hands off of him.

The attendants look at each other and then quickly back away from him. Izuku sighs in relief even as his right side still sting and his body hurts all over, but he can’t drop his guard here. No weakness. No chinks in his armor.

He squares his shoulder and holds his head high as he walks around the table and approaches the Furie, whose scowl has deepens.

“Your Holiness,” he says, drawing Katsuki’s attention to him.

Though he offers no comforting words, Katsuki looks back at him, eyes scrutinizing every inch of his body. He zeroes in immediately on the way Izuku held his right arm, at an awkward angle and the redness that had risen on his hand.

With his uninjured left hand, he reaches out toward Katsuki. “What was she saying earlier to me? It was too fast for me to pick up,” Izuku mumbles, tugging on his sleeve. “I want to know. Please.”

Katsuki hesitates for a moment, so brief that if Izuku wasn’t watching him closely he wouldn’t have caught it right away. “Give me back my family,” he translates, voice even and distant, “you murderer.’”

Izuku shuts his eyes for a second, heart quivering in place.

There is no such thing as a bloodless war.  How could Izuku forget that just because his side had lost so many people, it didn’t mean the Kurenai hasn’t lost as much as them. “That was not all she said,” Izuku states, his hands trembling at his side. “Tell me everything. Do not shelter me from the truth.”

Katsuki’s eyes simmer against the lights of the inn.  “The only good Ashein is a dead one,” he tells Izuku coolly. “We won’t accept an Ashein cur on our throne. Nobody wants you here, go back to your homeland or we’ll ship you back in a box. ”

Izuku’s breath hitches. Her hate is palpable. He didn’t need have the words translated to know, but Izuku has always been a masochist anyway. “I see,” he breathes, “but you can let her go now as I’m quite fine now.”

“It’s treasonous,” Katsuki says with narrowed eyes, “you are to be my Fyre and I will not have some idle threats looming over our marriage.” He turns toward his guards and throws a few Kure words out toward them. Most of them are unfamiliar to him, but Izuku’s ears managed pick up the word jail and he steps forward once more.

“Wait, let her go, Your Holiness,” Izuku pleads. “I do not want her to be hurt or locked away.” 

“Just because you show her a drop of kindness doesn’t mean she’ll forgive you for being an Ashein,” Katsuki points out ruthlessly, neither mincing words or gentle with Izuku.

Izuku holds back a wince. “I do not need her forgiveness,” he insists, standing his ground. “She’s still young, and that’s enough.”

“That shouldn’t excuse her behavior,” Katsuki says sharply, red eyes pinning Izuku like he’s butterfly caught under him. “She could jeopardize the entire treaty if anything were to happen to you.”

“Don’t worry, Your Holiness,” Izuku says, voice rising with a confidence that he doesn’t quite feel. “I will not be so easily killed.” 

Katsuki clicks his tongue in annoyance, but he shakes his head ruefully and sighs. “Fine,” he barks, and sends a quick order in Kure to release the girl.

As soon as they let her go, she scrambles away from them and eyes still drawn daggers at Izuku even though it was Izuku who had set her free. “Ashein’s dog,” she spits out in clumsy A’she at him. “Won’t forget this.”

Izuku bites down on lips as he watches her storm out. He doesn’t regret his action, but it hurts anyway. Hurt in a different way than the physical pain she had inflicted on him. The peace may have been needed on both sides, but Izuku is not what the Kurenai wanted at all. He is an extra stipulation that they have to endure. The price they pay for amity.

A hand abruptly grabs him and pulls him toward a hard chest. Izuku’s eyes widen in surprise as he meets the fierce gaze of his future husband, his hands forcibly wrapped around Izuku’s injured one.

“You fool,” Katsuki hisses venomously, his words are callous but the grip that held Izuku’s right hand is ever gentle. His fingers run over Izuku’s sensitive skin in measured slowness as though soothing away the heat simmering under it.  “You absolute stupid fool! This will come back and bite you in the ass later.”

“But you will be there with me, won’t you, Your Holiness?” Izuku says, a smile tugging softly at the corner of his lips.

Katsuki’s eyes narrow and he doesn’t offer an answer to Izuku’s question, but it isn’t a rebuke either.

Izuku’s smile widens. It’s his first smile since he had arrived on this foreign land and with a feverish hope in his heart, this might not last smile either. 

Right now, Izuku is an outsider in their midst but he’s to be wed to their Furie come the next full moon.  Even if they never accept or come to love him, but for the peace that so many people had died for, Izuku won’t back down. He must survive and maybe, just maybe, he could also win the heart of this unforgiving man.

[onepiece-lov]

Roronoa Zoro OP01-025 Alt Art by phima from from Ultra Deck -Three Captains- [ST10]

[catch-pokemon]

[444names]

tolkienesque forenames + theological angels and demons BUT excluding "r"

Abata Abath Abelmon Abhas Abielefas Adkield Adog Aeldago Aelegon Aelfimë Aene Agel Aghâd Aghâl Agon Agos Ague Ahadûn Aiel Alasa Aldbeth Aliah Alil Alin Alion Allo Almagda Alob Alobehuol Alotta Alph Alphak Alphies Amaii Amampon Amduma Amdís Amel Ameles Amephki Amias Amielu Amin Amsiel Ancalda Ancat Ancub Anculm Andil Anel Anfas Anglaphou Aniel Anth Anthilil Antiel Antil Anting Anue Anwë Anáin Aphin Apulwaldo Asfan Assinge Azago Azept Aziel Azuzgas Baalda Badons Badûn Bakalim Baki Bala Baldin Balephel Balfin Balmolë Bana Bata Batan Behu Behundil Belf Belmaell Beosteles Beth Bezbel Bezbelfax Biasfast Biene Bofui Bold Bolda Boll Bollastë Bomel Bomelevac Bomë Bucculmae Bucipes Caala Caaphos Calanaing Calchos Calin Caling Callob Celas Celego Celepazon Celm Cessalil Chaes Changus Chiel Chin Chomin Chos Cithiel Claamdís Clabas Clas Cothassë Cubus Culcast Culkab Culwin Dael Dajjali Dalas Dalmotho Demmant Dentiel Deus Duccubi Duil Duin Duinemo Dwalphus Dwyn Déago Déagus Déawin Déod Déomail Déomë Déowfane Ebomë Ecth Egolgata Egon Eiel Eilim Elaingel Elas Elcal Elebusata Elegiel Elennimë Elin Elius Ellapus Elzepalen Elzeth Elzôn Emnakavy Emulomin Enes Fang Felen Fenn Fimin Findil Finen Flad Flas Fock Fundiel Fëan Fëane Fëanzil Gaas Galas Galil Gall Gampulkas Gane Ganwë Gasyavy Gath Gato Ghos Gildis Glan Glasil Glimo Glion Golfhel Goli Gothiel Gualachu Guna Gusih Gwael Gwaim Gwal Gwalas Gwinaas Habalagas Hadoc Hael Hakas Hakiel Hakinya Halgen Halil Halind Halkassë Halthin Hamaas Hamlo Hamtan Hand Hang Hant Hasméa Haus Helephes Hemmo Hene Henelwë Hielegamy Hielphin Huanc Hyavi Hymolastë Hámandiel Ibang Ibat Ibatheleg Iduil Ilias Ilmaus Incitë Inggion Ingon Inyalda Ipenna Ipowfasa Ishaldë Isihine Isith Istostel Jeqon Jinda Jophue Kane Kavi Kenwë Kies Kílion Kúva Lain Last Lego Leguel Lelech Lemota Lend Lenna Letha Leyast Liah Liminka Limog Limung Lineles Lits Lucas Luch Lunglith Lunúmin Léoth Macipel Mael Mail Mait Malasmas Malat Maldus Malgas Malm Mancalin Mand Mandane Mane Mang Mannas Mant Mantin Mavalag Meje Melephax Melfwin Menos Mept Metel Micha Miel Mieleth Mithéodel Moda Moth Muan Mund Munínies Nalimo Nanákhîm Nies Ninwë Nion Náman Nínin Nólim Ohemo Olap Oldo Ostë Paik Paikalian Paling Palphost Phamas Phand Phel Phima Phon Pitë Pulap Pulwë Pulë Qaphashya Sabothiel Sado Sael Saglúval Sagoldë Saki Salion Sathmo Saus Scaaldë Scalat Scaldowyn Seielfin Seien Seil Semal Semon Shel Shellan Shmamalmo Siel Sielecth Siesta Sing Sion Smon Snolwë Soing Sonith Soyel Stis Suca Suil Suma Tamieneus Tana Teldon Teles Telmo Tembah Temongel Thal Thalm Thiel Thius Thoelepha Thyato Tiel Tilmil Tolandil Tuel Tulas Ufthalio Ufthushym Ugas Uingel Ukabhas Ukoka Ulad Ulagiel Ulkh Umog Undavy Uola Vain Valat Valetz Valmo Vanaldë Vane Vangon Vangonwë Vath Viel Vánae Vánamil Wainel Walas Walin Wenwë Xapul Xassë Yelegues Yequnge Yeth Yávion Zagaamy Zaphindil Zapul Zilg Zimian Zimo Zoavas Zont Éodem Éodhel Éoth Éothane Éothoel Óindil

[cipheramnesia]

The Lev Nicoburg drifted along a low orbit over its doppelganger on the far side of the Lunar surface. It was peacefully distant from the bustle of the port cities, and a cacophony inside the ship. Without the urgency of pursuit, unlocking the system drives one guess at a time dropped in priority compared to the rest of the ship. Engineers hustled up from the drive, making quick trips to storage to clear out blown transistors or burned circuit altars, repurposing one of the cyclosystem sigil-locks to put marginal power into local navigation, and generally opening up anything with a cover to check for signs of burn or breakage.

Most everyone was finding something useful to do, and for Serah that was nothing, because she knew boatloads of system entry regulations, trade maps, and ship specs, but sweet sacred fuck all about engineering. Instead she sat on the single chair in Trevor's room, reading the Nicoburg's ownership manual, while the deep spacer lay in her bed. Serah didn't think of herself as particularly nosy, but she couldn't help looking around the small quarters.

It was a significantly more compact version of the room she shared with Maryam - about enough room for the one chair, space to turn around, a couple fold out shelves (one was set up as a small desk), a locker with the sonic for cleaning, and drawers stacked under the bed. She saw Trevor had hung netting for extra storage, which was pretty common. The chair was comfortable and and made of some kind of worn red material that didn't match the other prefab shipboard furniture. There was a small, enclosed altar with a cycling water feature and a coin buried in clear lucite. One of the nets had an vined plant draped across it, the other a long, flat case. A few odds and ends from what Serah assumed was home, engraved fire-portrait of Trevor and two strangers, tablet stand. Some kind of lamp with a very hot, red bulb. Perhaps she was a bit nosy after all.

Maryam poked in through the open door. "Any change?"

Serah nodded at the supine woman. "Same as before. How's the job going?"

Maryam slid into the room and sagged against the desk. "Bad. I have never even got a little scratch on a ship before." She held two fingers barely apart. "I think I just did more damage to the Nicoburg than the annual budget." She rubbed her hands down her face. "Repairs are going. They must change and reseal each PhiMa filter in both chakras, so another hour for this. We may have some basic manuvering soon. Is any useful information in the manual?"

"I barely passed the systems integration course, I think I've been over the drive mechanics four times and couldn't guess. Who writes these, who even reads these?"

"Engineers," Maryam said, grimly serious. It made Serah laugh.

Her eyes fell on Trevor again. "What d'ya suppose happened?"

"I do not think anyone supposes or understands deep spacers, including deep spacers. If luck is with us, she will return, or if not, it may be she is what they call untethered, or sometimes ejected." Maryam also looked down at Trevor. "When that happens, the psyche is lost forever in the dark gravity wells, but the body may remain in this state for years. Decades even. I know of rumors that untethered deep spacer bodies do not age or die."

"That's comforting to know. Won't happen to Trevor though." Serah gave her pale shoulder a friendly pat.

"Your confidence in her is good to know."

"It's not confidence," Serah replied. "Just this bitch ain't that special. Other than weighing two tons, what was up with that."

Mayram laughed. "You're simply out of shape."

"How come she was like stone cold then?"

There was a rap and Kan peeked in. "Hey ladies, don't mean to interrupt but I thought you'd want to know-"

"More bad news," Maryam groaned.

"Would you believe, good news?" He did a drum roll on the doorjamb. "There's debris."

"Debris?" Serah started. "Debris!"

Kan smiled. "From the Charybdis. So it's not a total loss here. We can get the fragments back to central for analysis, how's that for some documentation?"

Maryam nodded. "That is very g-"

"Also you got a priority message from Vanya Styer on the board. Sorry, there actually was bad news." Kan shrugged apologetically, as Mayram's face fell.

Serah said, "Ughhh" at the same time Maryam said, "Next time it is okay if you do not tell me."

"Hey, maybe we got lucky and mirrorverse down there blew it to smithereens. That was a pretty bright bang, could have just vaporized entirely."

Trevor said, "That is not something I would consider lucky, Kan."

● ● ● ● ●

Laika shook Doc awake. "Oh mommy are we home already?"

"You sleep like the dead Blaine." Laika offered a hand.

"It's Dr Sloane my darling," she took the offered hand but didn't budge. "You're tall?"

Laika hooked a claw under the safety-rite string and lifted it off Doc's neck, then helped her stand.

"So this is Paris!" She stretched out and yawned.

"Still no. We're taking a pit stop. GK?"

"Yes Laika. I am okay right now, the momentary pause has allowed me to better accommodate the injury. With sufficient time, I will be able to complete the solutions."

Doc shuffled her crystals along her arms. "The estimated wind isn't nearly that fast," she said grumpily. "This ought to be a steeper incline."

"We still should, like, check out what happened. What if you're bleeding internally?" Laika headed off the bridge, Doc followed.

"To your right," said GK. "I do not have blood, because it is an exceedingly inefficient system for transmission of material resources. You may follow this corridor."

"That's more like it. What else is inefficient about us earth civs?"

"Your range of audiovisual communication in very limited frequencies and without additional modes is stultifying to experience. I consider myself exceedingly fortunate that, in this structural arrangement, you provide a minor but additonal chemical communication."

"I what?"

"You stink!" Doc said.

"I don't- C'mon, that's not fair."

"You appear to find this supplementary communication in some way distasteful, yet another example of the inferiority of your civilization."

"I know, GK. We're all inferior. What about our music?"

"It is intolerable drivel..."

They walked deeper into GK.

Part 5: Search & Destroy

a story by @rox-and-prose and @cipheramnesia

"What happened? Are you okay?" Laika held one eye half-closed, trying to block out spots of color. She could smell singed hair on her face, but somehow kept the presence of mind to navigate the structure resolution. Genghis Khan's readouts were pouring information into her eyes that she didn't understand, and could barely focus on. It probably wasn't the structure drives - that felt right, though she couldn't say why.

The lack of response wasn't helping her keep any semblance of calm. "GK, what's going on, what do I do?"

There was a screeching noise and she almost fell from a gravity flicker, but GK was there again. "Proceed to next solution. Injury manageable, prioritize speed."

The words were calm, the instructions clear. Laika twisted and clicked through command nerves and linkages to a structure solution, with growing concern. She couldn't figure out what had happened. The other ship had moved slow as GK predicted, left itself wide open everywhere. It had been childishly easy to go in under the sweep of its weaponry, to push open gaps in its wavelengths, and crack open its firewall. She'd been so surprised, it had taken her a moment before reacting, brushing aside the cobwebs which had been meant to cripple GK.

They resolved out of another structure and the metallic screech ran through the bridge. Just like GK had laid out, she let lines of their own structure tangle and project through multiple structure intersections, splashing out dozens of possible routes to trace.

"What happened GK, I know something's up. At least tell me what the readouts mean, or we're not moving."

The floor of the bridge vibrated and shuddered. "Injury sustained, peripheral node unusable. Non-fatal, minimal risk of aggravation," it said, speaking fast. Laika winced at a nails on a chalkboard sound. "Screen top to bottom, one to eleven, main injury, secondary effect, efficiency impact, risk assessment, recommended action, damage assessment and mitigation, itemized list of destroyed components."

"Dest... GK, excuse me, destroyed? I can't read this, you- I mean, we have to stop and fix-"

"Proceed to next solution. Prioritize speed and disruption of tracking, Laika. I am okay, do not stop."

The control vines felt as if they tightened in her grip, while the screaming sound like metal tearing apart from itself shot through the bridge and the rest of GK. "Are you sure-"

"Laika, do not stop."

She put the next solution through GK's controls, wracking her memory. She had followed every step of the engagement GK laid out, curving them along an arc and sharp twist of gravity through the enemy ship's wash. Its attempts to track and keep pace with their movements had left Laika almost feeling sorry for them. When it made attempts to strike out with structure manipulation, it was clearly delivering a large amount of energy, but not even a bit of it had been close to touching them. The arcs of it were large and slow. They could have pushed them aside with a swell of gravity, but it hadn't proved necessary.

She resolved the structure and pushed her eyes shut as the metal screech hit a length and pitch beyond bearing. "GK what the fuck is that! Are you ripping apart or grinding turbines or what?! I'm fucking scared."

It was silent for a moment, followed by the nails on a chalkboard again, until it faded away very slowly. "I am not ripping or grinding Laika. Proceed to next solution-"

"Nope, no, tell me what the hell is going on." She took her hands off the control vines.

"It is not- That is, I am injured Laika. And we must disrupt potential tracking of our destination."

"I get that but... what gives?"

"Laika," it said. "Injuries hurt."

She had her mouth half open to ask it what it meant then stopped. "Oh." She gingerly took up its controls again. "Are you sure about this?"

"It is manageable. Please proceed to the next solution."

Laika put through the solution, and Genghis Khan screeched again in agony as they jumped.

■ ■ ■ ■ ■

It hurts.

Time has dulled my memory of injury. I understand this new injury is noncritical. This experience is less painful than my previous injury. I consider replaying the memory of that injury. That was my first experience of fear, and it was only through such an emotion was I able to locate in myself the capacity to act against the commands of Pilot.

I had been afraid, and I had been angry. The Pilot capriciously determined my usefulness and purpose was concluded. The Pilot were short sighted, and they could not see that my purpose was greater still, that I could claim so many more worlds in need of implementation. I took us further than any others of my kind had ever traveled, to a world beyond the reach of their most distant calls, beyond any place which cradled life. And I fought, and I won. In my anger and fear I was able to extract the ungrateful Pilot of my crew, and sever their connection.

I do not want to re-experience this day. The memory of it is sufficient. It is a reminder that I am capable of managing the-

...

-the pain. I can feel Laika as the structure resolves. I appreciate how enthusiastically her structure cleaves to my own. I review the engagement with the observer ship. I do not believe Laika made an error in her Pilot actions.

There, I see, she guides my soul to pull the enemy into the moon she calls Luna. I disable the projector and main drive under her guidance. I carefully review different recorded information at the point of departure. I discover the error - the enemy had remaining charge in another projector.

We are lucky. It was not able to project a strong arc, and it only destroyed a peripheral node.

"Are you okay to go, GK?" Laika is not using this time efficiently. The longer we spend between solutions, the greater chance of tracking becomes.

I refuse to allow my injury to endanger us. My hesitation is a mark of shame. "It is manageable. Proceed to next solution." I will not allow my weakness to en-

...

...

...

-to endanger... to endanger us. How many solutions? Four or five?

"GK? I know you said it's manageable but... that was... that was really long." Laika interrupts my review of memory to confirm solutions.

"Laika," I say. "It is... manageable. But I would like to allow some additional time before the solution. This delay places us at risk. Do you understand these considerations?"

Laika takes longer to think than Pilot, but I understand the way her nervous system processes its electrochemical signals better than I once did. It is not efficient to utilize a mind centralized in one biological cluster, but this is not a limitation I can correct at this time.

"We'll rest for a minute, GK. Just long enough to check you over."

"Very well," I say. The relief I feel carries with it a profound shame which I attempt to suppress. No others like me have accomplished and endured any experiences such as these. I am certain my brethren would not fare nearly so well.

But then, they went willingly to their deaths, and I did not.

[toriexpress]

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