#temporary skilled migration

[visa4you1]

Australia, renowned for its vibrant cities, high standard of living, and vast opportunities, is a coveted destination for many looking to build a new life. Two of the primary visa options for skilled workers seeking to move to Australia are the General Skilled Migration (GSM) visa and the Temporary Skill Shortage (TSS) visa. Both have unique benefits and requirements, making them suitable for different circumstances and career plans. This guide provides an in-depth comparison of these two visas, helping you decide which is the best pathway for your Australian journey.

General Skilled Migration (GSM) Visa

The General Skilled Migration (GSM) program is designed for skilled workers who are not sponsored by an employer but possess skills in demand in the Australian labor market. It includes several visa subclasses, with the most common being:

Subclass 189 (Skilled Independent Visa): This visa does not require a sponsor and is based on points.

Subclass 190 (Skilled Nominated Visa): This visa requires a nomination from an Australian state or territory government.

Subclass 491 (Skilled Work Regional Visa): This visa is for skilled workers who want to live and work in regional Australia

Eligibility Requirements

Skills Assessment: Applicants must undergo a skills assessment through a relevant assessing authority for their occupation.

Points Test: A minimum score of 65 points is required, based on factors such as age, English language proficiency, work experience, and education.

Occupation List: The applicant’s occupation must be on the relevant Skilled Occupation List.

Health and Character Requirements: Applicants must meet health and character requirements set by the Australian government.

Age Limit: Generally, applicants must be under 45 years of age.

Application Process Benefits

The Temporary Skill Shortage (TSS) visa, also known as the Subclass 482 visa, is designed to address labor shortages by allowing employers to sponsor skilled workers from overseas. The TSS visa is divided into three streams:

Short-Term Stream: For occupations listed on the Short-Term Skilled Occupation List (STSOL), valid for up to two years (or four years if an International Trade Obligation applies).

Medium-Term Stream: For occupations listed on the Medium and Long-Term Strategic Skills List (MLTSSL), valid for up to four years and provides a pathway to permanent residency.

Labour Agreement Stream: For workers nominated under a labor agreement with the Australian government.

Eligibility Requirements

Sponsorship: Applicants must be sponsored by an approved Australian employer.

Nomination: The employer must nominate the applicant for an occupation on the relevant occupation list.

Skills and Experience: The applicant must have the skills and experience required for the nominated position.

English Language Proficiency: Depending on the stream, applicants must meet specific English language requirements.

Health and Character Requirements: Similar to the GSM visa, applicants must meet health and character requirements.

Application Process Benefits

Navigating the complexities of Australian immigration can be challenging, whether you are applying for a General Skilled Migration visa or a Temporary Skill Shortage visa. This is where Visa4You comes in, offering comprehensive support and expert guidance throughout your visa application journey.

Personalized Visa Assessment — Visa4You starts with a thorough assessment of your individual circumstances, skills, and goals. This personalized approach ensures that you understand your eligibility for the different visa options and choose the one that best suits your needs.

Expert Guidance on Visa Selection — Based on the assessment, Visa4You provides tailored advice on whether the GSM or TSS visa is more appropriate for your situation. Our experts explain the benefits and requirements of each visa type, helping you make an informed decision.

Assistance with Documentation — Accurate and complete documentation is critical to a successful visa application. Visa4You assists you in compiling, organizing, and reviewing all necessary documents, ensuring that your application meets the stringent requirements of the Australian immigration authorities.

Application Preparation and Submission — Our team guides you through the entire application process, from preparing your Expression of Interest (EOI) for the GSM visa to coordinating with your employer for the TSS visa nomination. We ensure that your application is submitted correctly and promptly, maximizing your chances of a positive outcome.

Ongoing Support and Updates — Visa4You provides continuous support throughout the application process, keeping you informed of any updates or additional requirements. We act as your liaison with the immigration authorities, handling all communications on your behalf.

Pathway to Permanent Residency — For those on the TSS visa, Visa4You offers guidance on transitioning to permanent residency, ensuring a smooth and successful progression through the necessary steps.

Legal and Regulatory Compliance — Staying abreast of the latest immigration laws and policies is crucial. Visa4You ensures that your application complies with all current regulations, minimizing the risk of delays or rejections.

In conclusion, whether you are considering the General Skilled Migration visa for its permanent residency benefits or the Temporary Skill Shortage visa for a quicker entry and employment security, Visa4You is here to assist you every step of the way. Our expert services are designed to simplify the process, provide clarity, and enhance your chances of success in achieving your Australian dream.

For personalized assistance and to start your visa application journey, contact Visa4You today.

Originally published at https://www.visa4you.co.in on May 30, 2024.

[journeyjottings]

Australian New Immigration Plan for Skilled Migrants

Today, the Australian Government has unveiled the Migration Strategy, which lays out significant enhancements to the Australian immigration process. This plan aims to cater to the country's future needs and ensure benefits for Australia, including its citizens, companies, authorities, and newcomers.

Currently, over fifty percent of Australians either come from overseas or have parents who were born in another country.

The Migration Strategy sets out five main objectives for the Australian immigration system. To reach these objectives, the government will carry out eight important actions, supported by over 25 new policy promises and existing obligations.

The 2023 Review of the Migration System, the first thorough examination of the migration process in a generation, revealed a crucial issue: "The core issue facing the migration system today stems from a lack of clear understanding regarding Australia's goals and objectives in migration.Top of Form"

Conducted by Dr. Martin Parkinson AC PSM, the Migration Review highlighted that the system was in such disrepair that it necessitated a "10-year rebuild."

Australia's Focus on Temporary Skilled Migration

Australia's temporary visa programs serve various purposes, allowing individuals to visit, study, and work in the country. Some temporary visa holders may apply for extensions, while others may pursue permanent residency through the Migration Program.

As part of the Migration Strategy, the Australian government aims to focus on temporary skilled migration to address skill shortages and facilitate worker mobility. One proposed action is the introduction of a Skills in Demand visa, featuring three specific pathways. These pathways would cater to the needs of various industries, such as technology or green energy, by making it easier to attract highly skilled workers.

Additionally, a Specialist Skills Pathway is proposed to streamline the process of bringing in experts in specialized fields. Moreover, a Core Skills Pathway is suggested to meet specific workforce requirements, supported by an updated occupation list reflecting Australia's skill needs.

Furthermore, the government plans to implement new visa settings to enhance migrant workers' mobility in the labor market, aiming to combat worker exploitation and boost productivity. This includes streamlined visa processing to expedite the entry of skilled workers into Australia.

The Permanent Skilled Migration Strategy of Australia

To foster long-term prosperity, the Migration Strategy proposes exploring a revamped points system for permanent skilled migration, along with introducing a new Talent and Innovation visa for migrants who can contribute to growth in vital sectors.

Furthermore, the strategy emphasizes support for regional Australia and its workforce by enhancing regional visas and the Working Holiday Maker Program. The Working Holiday Maker Program allows young adults to enjoy a 12-month holiday while engaging in short-term work and study opportunities.

To simplify the immigration process, the government plans a comprehensive streamlining agenda, aiming to streamline visa settings, reduce visa categories, and improve user-friendliness. As part of this initiative, the Migration Strategy pledges to eliminate over 20 unnecessary and redundant visas, making the visa system more straightforward.

In the 2023-24 Budget, the Australian Government has allocated around 70% of places in the permanent Migration Program to the Skill stream and approximately 30% to the Family stream, with partner and child visas responding to demand.

Additionally, from July 1, 2023, the Temporary Skilled Migration Income Threshold (TSMIT) will increase from $53,900 to $70,000, ensuring fair wages for temporary skilled migrants. Furthermore, Temporary Graduate visa holders with select degrees will receive an extra two years of post-study work rights, enhancing the availability of skilled labor in critical sectors.Top of Form

What is Australian Immigration?

Australian immigration refers to the process of people relocating to Australia from other countries, either temporarily or permanently. It involves obtaining visas for various purposes such as tourism, education, employment, or joining family members.

Managed by the Department of Home Affairs, the Australian immigration system oversees visa applications and implements immigration policies. It covers both temporary stays, like tourism or work visas, and permanent residency options, such as skilled migration or family reunification.

Australia's immigration policies are aimed at attracting skilled individuals, investors, and contributors to the economy and society. The system strives to meet the country's labor market needs, address skill shortages, and support regional development, all while ensuring the security and integrity of the immigration process. In summary, Australian immigration is essential for shaping the country's demographics, culture, and economy, fostering diversity, and contributing to its growth and development.

[presidentbungus]

"Flip a coin?"

"Or we could discuss further, and come to a decision, but I sense you won't be reasoned with," Spy murmurs.

"Yeah, yeah. You too, pal." Scout digs around in his pants-pocket and comes out with a dull quarter, deftly rolling it through his fingers. "Call it."

Spy's eyes shift up and down, slowly. Creepy old bastard. "Tails."

Scout tosses it. There's a way he flicks his wrist just so, two and a half spins in the air, and then he catches it and slaps it against the butt of his hand, and he knows what the result's gonna be. Obviously, it's heads. "Better luck next time."

Spy knows the trick. Scout does it a little clumsily, but he has the core of the motion, and the only reason Spy notices is because he knows how to do the same thing. He must have taught himself.

It makes him think of his youth, sixteen or seventeen, finding ways to turn chance into skill. Learning tricks with coins and cards. Scout looks more like him every day. It makes his heart ache in a way he's been growing more familiar with, lately.

He's rolling the coin over his knuckles, back and forth, with an idiotic smile on his face.

Spy will let him win this one. He's earned it. Though his hand darts out and he does a subtle handshake maneuver and when he pulls away the quarter has migrated from the back of Scout's hand to the center of Spy's palm; while the boy loudly complains Spy does four different flips in quick succession, tails-tails-tails-tails, and then offers the coin back to Scout.

He snatches it back, sneering. Though he still seems to find it worth the temporary lapse in dignity to say: "You gotta show me how to do that one of these days."

And there it is, that twist in his chest again. "… One of these days, yes."

[hey-hey-j]

Viva, Queen of the Pop Trolls, and Poppy, leader of the Putt Putt Trolls, for the role swap AU I posted about yesterday. Now it's their turn for an info post let's gooooo:

- Poppy is now the older sister in this scenario. Like in canon, she was separated from her family when Viva was only a baby, on the night of the trolls' escape. She and her group of survivors became the nomadic Putt Putt Trolls, taking their name from one of their earliest settlements, the abandoned Bergen golf course.

- Instead of settling in one place, the Putt Putt Trolls travel between different temporary homes throughout the year, moving with the seasons and never staying in one place for longer than a few months. If they keep moving, they have less of a chance of being spotted by the Bergens and taken captive again.

- Poppy retains her cheerfully optimistic personality here, and as the leader of the group she's always encouraging that they keep their spirits up through their music. I imagine she keeps up a bit of a "tough unshakable leader" facade, always putting on a happy face for her people to hide how stressed out and anxious she really is. She already lost her family. She'd hate to lose anything else.

- It was during one of their yearly migrations that the Putt Putters ran into Clay, and invited him to join them.

- Viva, Poppy's younger sister, is the recently crowned queen of Pop Village. She's a friendly and charismatic leader who always looks out for her people, and prioritizes their safety and happiness above all else.

- In this AU, Viva did grow up knowing about her older sister, and how she was lost during the Bergen attack. Viva here is a lot less paranoid about letting people leave the village, but she's definitely a lot more cautious than Poppy is in canon, maintaining constant vigilance over the village and the surrounding forest to avoid losing anyone else to the Bergens. And being careful about the scope of her parties—she knows that too much noise and light runs a pretty big risk.

- John Dory is her closest advisor, helping her put together security systems and evacuation protocols with the planning skills he picked up from Branch. Part of the reason JD is drawn to Viva is because she reminds him of Branch in that regard—that deep desire to protect the ones she loves that's sometimes a little misguided but comes from a place of genuine care.

- Viva's hug time bracelet originally belonged to Poppy

(★my Ko-fi)

[pikatsum]

high tide (came and brought you in) - chapter one.

summary: you’d originally rescued the injured merman out of kindness, and perhaps a healthy undercurrent of fear of what others in your town might do to the creature. the last thing you ever expected after returning him to the sea, was for him to try to stay.

tags: afab reader, merfolk, mention of explicitly-inhumane fishing practices.

this fic is a part of the teahouse collab, on discord!

A hunting party had left port, yesterday.

It was made up of the usual kind of tourist, you gathered, overhearing the neighborhood gossip on the sandy, well-trodden path into town. It was made up of a bunch of trigger-happy business students, likely bored with another year of academia and looking for something visceral. Looking to harm in a way that was sanctioned— even celebrated, in some corners of your seaside town. Doubtlessly, they were after the biggest creatures they could catch: sharks, dolphins, or something even more dangerous. Most of those you passed seem to believe that they’d be headed to the outer reefs.

This year, the annual merfolk migration had come early. You had heard through the grapevine that some of the offshore boats had begun to radio in with the usual signs: faulty sonar, empty traps and a general sense of unease, the closer they got to the outer-lying reefs, where multitudes of traveling pods made their temporary homes. Anyone with sense usually knew to stay far away from merfolk-territory, no matter how temporary their stay.

But now that that the sudden departure of the town’s gaudiest fishermen had combined with this news, it was collectively generating more rumor than Baralou Island had handled in months. As the path transitioned to craggy, uneven sidewalk, you still heard people on their porches, gossiping about what could’ve drawn the group’s attention so suddenly. Perhaps it was one of the cartload of technological additions that they’d constantly been wheeling up onto the sleek convertible boat they’d rented. You’d already had to duck through their large group by the harbor yesterday, and through the small crowds that had gathered to see what the fuss was about.

One of their number had been particularly boastful, perched at the top of the gangplank. His cerulean hair almost blinding in the sun, you’d heard him claim that he possessed the skill to capture merfolk— “I could snag a whole pod, in a single net!” — Anywhere else, those statements would’ve warned a call to the coast guard, if not the police. On Baralou, however, it was met with scattered applause and a single wolf-whistle.

Anti-merfolk sentiment always reached a peak in the summertime. The reason always varied: a lesser catch of fish that year, an increase in hurricane warnings. Merfolk— intelligent, powerful and little-understood— made the perfect scapegoats. With the early arrival of their annual migration, it was the opinion of some locals that the large pods passing through the reefs of the island were choking out the tourism industry. Never mind the fact that it was barely the start of summer, and the migration never lasted longer than a month. Nothing got people riled up like the notion of losing out on their most important source of income.

As a former resident, you knew that Baralou took great, and often dubiously-legal pains to advertise itself as having the “safest beaches in the world.” Entire books recounted years worth of fishing competitions with consistently high numbers of so-called “incidental harm” to merfolk. When taking these years’ worth of torment and fear tactics into account, it was little wonder that no mer would dare cross the reefs near the island, these days.

As a teenager, you too had sworn you would never come back to the island again— though this was more to do with Baralou’s pitifully-tiny size outside of tourist season, and the maddening frustration of growing up amongst the same faces you’d seen since nursery school. Nearing the end of your college career has reignited that passion to stay away— but unfortunately, your budget wasn’t quite in agreement with those plans. A summer of housesitting for your aunt and uncle, as well as your waitstaff position at one of Baralou’s many dockside restaurants would ideally give you enough to leave for good, come the fall.

Although you could barely wait to repack your overflowing suitcases, your first weeks back home had reminded you that not everything here was abjectly awful. Your expression lightened once you’d ordered from your usual café, turning to find an outside table already occupied with your favorite resident.

Camie Utshushimi wasted no time in shattering your hopes for normalcy.

“I heard—“ she began in a low voice, as you seated yourself, “—that somebody on the south-side offered to guide the business yuppies to a huge mer pod.”

You exhaled your disapproval over a warm mug of tea.

“That’s gotta be a scam. Even if they wanted to go out there, those reefs are nationally-protected. The fines alone would keep anybody away.”

“Babes, you know as well as I do that won’t stop them.”

“Even if they make it—” you retorted, “—I highly doubt a mer from these parts would be so easily caught, especially by that group.”

Camie at least seemed to take that point into consideration, a brief smile playing at her lips. She took a slow sip of coffee, her warm brown eyes pensively scanning the water.

“If anything, they’ll snag a nesting sea turtle, or a manatee that got washed in by mistake. The poor thing.” still you frowned, considering, “I hope they come back with nothing. But with all that fancy gear…”

This seemed to shake Camie out of her reverie, turning from the sea with a dismissive click of her tongue.

“Nah, Inasa already gave me the deets— that’s all rented. Fat chance they know how to use all of it.”

“Are you sure?” your lower lip worried anxiously, under your teeth.

Despite her agreeable chirp, you knew by the actual look in her eyes that she couldn’t be fully certain. You both finished your drinks in uneasy silence.

Camie was always amongst the island’s earliest risers, which meshed well with you. Shame that she had a social calendar more tightly packed than a visiting royal— she was never available in the evenings, no matter how many nights you tried to invite her to join you at the beach bars. Regardless, she was your closest friend on the island, and if these short moments outside the cobblestone cafe were what you had with her each morning, it was something you were grateful for.

On your way home, you cut back through the fishing harbor— at least, until you were stopped by a growing crowd. You couldn’t make out what was going on amongst their fluctuating number, but with everyone talking and the piercing beep of a large convertible boat backing in along the docks, you could only assume the town’s ‘conquering heroes’ had finally returned. Disgusted, you gave up your gawking and diverted to walk along the craggy shoreline for the last half-mile, back towards your borrowed home.

Most beachgoers preferred the island’s largest offerings, located just outside the shopping district at the other end of the island. These days, you preferred this semi-deserted spit of sand, despite the high tide forcing you to walk through the shallows for most of the way home.

Your weak earbuds were cranked to the max, but still did little against the crash of the waves. Slowly, you picked your way through a bed of oyster shells— even if any accidental cuts would be soothed in an instant, once the saltwater raced over your feet, again. At last, you reached the end of the shell bed, picking up the pace as the wind pushed insistently at you, spraying sand into your face and forcing you to stop, until it calmed.

Your podcast faded to ringing static in your ears when you spotted the torn fishing net, lying ahead.

Its edges had gouged deep into the sand— and, as it was so close to the shoreline itself, the waves that followed had buried them under more silt, throughly entrapping it. It was doubtlessly lost from the harbor. Was that the source of the commotion you’d missed? But, more horrifying than its condition (so tangled up on itself that it resembled a massive bunch of seaweed) or location, far from the fishing harbor, was the fact that it was moving.

Fear coursed through your veins. You needed to call some kind of authority. There should be a phone number at the prior beach access for the wildlife conservatory, if you could just get back to it. You’d have to go back over the oyster bed, but if something was still alive in that monstrosity, there wasn’t much choice to make. You’d taken all of two steps back, preparing yourself for the pain, when an odd sound rose in the lull of the tide. You tore out your cheap earbuds and strained to listen.

The sound that followed defied explanation. You’d never heard anything close to it. The only comparative experience you could draw from was mourning. A harsh, desperate cry, from something that was quite literally on its last hope.

The next thing you knew, your hands were plunging into damp tangles of rope. You cursed as it slid from your hands, as you first tried to wrench it apart, and then upwards— but of course, its moorings were stuck fast. It vaguely occurred that you had absolutely no idea what you were attempting to unearth, but the thought was quickly forgotten. Whatever this was, you could hear breathing from within the mass— shaky, ragged, and quick. You didn’t have much time.

And so, you turned instead to the edges themselves. You plunged your hands into the wet sand and dug as fast as you could. Fortunately, the fasteners weren’t buried too deeply. It didn’t take long for you to pry one up, and then another, the raspy catch of breathing serving as an inefficient and rapidly-dwindling timer. Your fingers burned. Your arms ached. And yet, you continued to tear at the bindings, tugging at the base of the netting until you could finally start to pry up a corner.

You‘a heard of hysterical strength before, but you’d never truly acknowledged the sensation until the soaked, dripping netting was held high above your head. Very quickly, those considerations vanished entirely at the sight of the form underneath.

A pair of bright dichromatic eyes blinked at you through the gloom. The moment would be almost ethereal, if their owner wasn’t literally heaving for breath, both arms stuck akimbo in the holes of the netting. You gave voice to the only thought that actually made sense in this situation.

“…What the hell…?”

Your arms burned from the sopping weight of the net. Water and damp pieces of seaweed were falling on the both of you. With a grunt of effort, you finally stepped forward and chucked the excess portion backwards, before you immediately knelt to loosen the remaining bindings.

The man— not human, not fully, your brain warned— almost immediately began to thrash, displacing a spray of water between you as the tide came in. You bit back a yelp, but repressed the urge to flinch, caught up by the look on his face.

Whatever he was or wasn’t, you knew he was afraid.

You couldn’t be sure if he would understand, as you raised your hands, palms out. Was there really such a thing as a universal sight of surrender? Although your next movement forward earned a flash of sharp teeth, he didn’t move against you. With that, your hands returned to the net, and you set to work untangling it from his body.

You stared down at your hands as you worked, pulse thrumming in your ears. Outside of them, you couldn’t feel anything, outside the numbing sting of adrenaline. Because of that, your motor control was tenuous at best— all you could do was continue working at the net. Heart in your mouth, you snuck another glance up, to confirm your suspicions. Sharp teeth. Bright eyes. Fins, twitching and alert, where ears would be.

If anyone else happened upon your rescue of a beached merman, you would be in very serious trouble.

You re-doubled your efforts, trying to get him loose, wishing that you’d somehow had the foresight to grab something sharp—

—oh, wait.

“Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow—!”

One painstaking pick-over of the oyster graveyard later and you had yourself a prime specimen. You’d exchanged a fair bit of blood to the sand, but that was neither here nor there. You half-ran, half-limped back to the fallen net, makeshift tool held high and set to work, ignoring the latest attempt to swipe at you. This particular shell had sliced open the ball of your foot, so, soon enough, it had started a tear into the tangled net.

The merman didn’t seem to appreciate your ingenuity. You’d barely gotten his right arm free before he was using it to grab onto yours, tugging you forwards as his other, bound arm tried to gesture to his throat.

“Wait—!” you panicked at the strength of his grip, “I’m getting your other arm out, just breathe—!”

A feeling like ice water ran down your spine.

“….Can’t…”

“You ca—?” you’d barely gotten through the repetition before you saw the small slits in his throat, gaping and closing frantically.

You had no idea how long the mer had been breathing above-water, but those rattling wheezes sounded like he was reaching his limit.

“Oh, shit— hold on!”

You cut through the last binding of his left arm and began to feverishly hack away at the snarled mass behind him. It wasn’t long before the shimmer of scales became apparent through the remaining bindings. You couldn’t think much about the full magnitude of what all you had uncovered— how could he speak? — because the merman in question could barely breathe at all. The small gasps of air he managed to draw seemed more like hiccups.

With no time to spare, you dragged whatever remained of the net backwards, wincing as a massive number of koi-like scales were caught and sloughed off in your haste. Supposedly the merman would sooner be alive than care about the finer details of his appearance.

The net had barely dropped before his powerful tail slammed down into the surface of the wet sand— sending fragments of it splashing back over you. You took a few steps back as the merman— tail uselessly trying to propel him forwards— was forced to use an approximation of an army-crawl to get towards the shallows.

Without the snarled ropes in the way, you only saw the injuries left behind. A multitude of bruising and deep scratches marred his back, some still sluggishly-bleeding. There was a long gouge of scales missing on his left flank, revealing the smooth muscle of his tail which seemed to share the unique dichromatic coloring of the rest of him. A few pairs of dorsal fins twitched valiantly as he tried to propel himself forwards.

Finally, the merman made it to the sea. It was easier going from there, especially after he’d managed to fully submerge his head and neck underwater. He stayed for a long moment, doubtlessly drinking in the relief of oxygen that he could fully process. But no mer would ever want to stay this close to Baralou’s shore. As he sank into the shallows, you expected him to tear off, instantly.

Instead, he broke the surface again, split hair tumbling over his broad shoulders, before another of those indecipherable sounds carried itself over the shush of the incoming tide, back to you. This one sounded like a challenge. He’d fought his way through whatever hell had gotten him trapped in that netting, suffered through a slow asphyxiation and crawled himself back to the sea. He’d very nearly been killed. But now, he seemed to dare the land and anyone living there to try it, again.

Caught in the early-morning rays, he was the most breathtaking creature you had ever seen.

In spite of the sentiments, the posted warnings, and the merman’s borderline war-cry, you made your way back down the sand and into the shallows. The merman had vanished far into the deeper waters by then. You doubted he’d return for such a silly reason. And yet….

A few small tide-pools were receding beneath the tangles of net you’d torn away. You knelt and began to dig through their broken coils, to extract as many of the curved, glimmering scales as you could. They were ivory, with splashes of wine red, each one with its own unique pattern. Perhaps, like snakeskin, a mer’s scales were destined to be shed. Still, you felt like they had to serve some purpose.

Once you’d gathered up as many as you could carry, you made your way down the shore, following the shallow trench that his tail had left. You went along it, into the sea, out until it lapped up over your kneecaps, where the merman had first shoved his face underwater, and then you went a bit further, just for good measure. It would be nothing but bad news to have these wash back up, after all.

There, you lowered your hands, and let the scales slip through, to the ocean floor. Even if the merman didn’t come back, perhaps the currents would be kind enough to return at least some of them back where they belonged. With one final glance outwards, you took your leave, walking determinedly towards the shore, even as the ocean’s receding current pulled enticingly, trying to lure you to follow, into its depths.

[mariacallous]

As Election Day approaches, many city leaders across the United States are wondering what a second presidential term for Donald Trump might mean for their residents and communities. Over the past several months, they have watched as Trump described Milwaukee as “horrible,” New York as a “city in decline,” and Philadelphia as “ravaged by bloodshed and crime.” Trump recently warned (at the Detroit Economic Club, of all places) that “the whole country will be like Detroit” if Vice President Kamala Harris wins the election, and that “you’re going to have a mess on your hands.” City leaders recall conflicts with the previous Trump administration over issues such as administering the decennial census, ensuring public safety, and providing adequate funding. 

Immigration policy, however, should top their concerns. Candidate Trump signaled numerous ways in which he and his cabinet would seek to reduce the presence and impact of immigrants of nearly all kinds in American life. Recent Brookings analysis quantified the potential national economic impact of this agenda. And as the analysis below shows, these proposed policies would be especially harmful to cities, which have long relied upon immigration for critical demographic, economic, and cultural fuel. 

The GOP wants fewer immigrants—of almost all kinds—in the United States 

While Trump and running mate JD Vance’s recent spotlight on Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio grabbed headlines, the GOP’s agenda on immigration reaches much more broadly. Based on Trump’s speeches, statements from campaign officials, and Project 2025’s “Mandate for Leadership,” this agenda includes: 

Rounding up, detaining, and deporting an estimated 11 million unauthorized migrants 

Further restricting the entry of refugees and asylum seekers 

Repealing the diversity immigrant visa, which offers pathways to permanent U.S. residency for migrants from countries with historically low numbers of immigrants 

Limiting family-based admissions of immigrants (to nuclear family members only) 

Scaling back the use of H-1B (high-skilled immigrant) and H-2B (seasonal immigrant worker) visas 

Repealing temporary protected status (TPS) for immigrants fleeing unsafe situations in their home countries (including 450,000 recent arrivals from Venezuela) 

Ending Deferred Action for Childhood Arrival (DACA) protections for minor children whose parents brought them to the U.S. illegally 

Reinstituting the “Muslim ban,” effectively barring the entry of individuals from a range of Muslim-majority countries 

Such policies would reflect Trump’s warning that immigrants are “poisoning the blood” of America, and fulfill promises from policy adviser Stephen Miller that a second Trump presidency “will unleash the vast arsenal of federal powers to implement the most spectacular migration crackdown.” As was true in the previous Trump administration, many (if not all) of these policies would face legal challenges, funding challenges, or both. But such a multipronged policy assault on immigration—likely coupled with continued anti-immigration rhetoric—would undoubtedly have both direct and indirect effects on immigrants’ presence and contributions to America’s economy and society. 

[amaurotine-daydreaming]

XXV. Call It A Day

Sanson glanced up. The knocking came again, squarely on his door, and he begrudgingly got up and opened it.

Heavens help him, it was Guydelot.

-

As beautiful as the open skies of The Sea of Clouds were, Sanson was thoroughly relieved when at last the airship touched down in the embrace of the Twelveswood. He was well and truly exhausted since the encounter with the siren–to say nothing of the emotional adrenaline of having Guydelot suddenly reappear as if they had never parted on bad terms, an easy smirk on his face and the heavens in his voice.

Sanson was looking forward to dragging himself home–the full report, he decided, could wait until tomorrow when both himself and the hour were more presentable–but no sooner had they set foot in Gridania when Guydelot suggested a celebratory drink. Mogta beside him clamored for the same, and the Warrior wasn’t opposed. And so it was that their little fellowship sat down at a table at the Carline Canopy and ordered a round.

They stayed there for a time, recalling the length and breadth of their adventure. Mogta ultimately folded first, saying he would find a nice tree to slumber in and then visit his fellow moogles in the Twelveswood the following morning. The Warrior bid them good night not long after.

With his audience apparently now lacking, Guydelot had then migrated a few tables away to where a large group of adventurers sat carousing. He was now several songs into embellishing their tales, and earning toasts and cheers of approval after every one. 

Which left Sanson alone at their table. 

Bloody bards and their constant need to be at the center of things, Sanson thought. Twelve forbid he had started to enjoy Guydelot’s company, and that he had been looking forward to sitting alone with him for a time until sleep had forced him to say good night. There had been a few things he had hoped they would say to one another….

At first Sanson thought he might wait it out, and made his next order a cup of tea instead of another mead. He sat there for a time, reviewing his journal entries and nursing his drink as well as his pride, glancing over at Guydelot’s table every now and again.

Unfortunately, it seemed the adventurers were in no hurry to call it a night, and Guydelot was still deep in conversation and verse and the attentions of his newest admirers. Over the chatter, the occasional chord from his harp threaded its way over to Sanson. Sanson oft felt swept up in Guydelot’s skill with song, even when he wove lyrics designed to aggravate him, but right now it was just plain distracting. For some reason, each and every note needled him.

Sanson stood abruptly. Sod it. He was calling it a day. He settled the tab–some of which was Guydelot’s, but to hells with it–and trudged upstairs.

It was only when he was midway through unlocking the door to his room that he thought, What in the Matron’s name am I doing?

He had residency in Gridania, for gods’ sake! He didn’t need to be staying at The Roost. He groaned at his own idiocy. All that traveling had habituated him to seeking temporary lodgings, and he was so exhausted and irritated at Guydelot that he had arranged for himself a room without bloody thinking. 

Sanson stood there for a minute, head bowed, hand on the doorknob. He could go back downstairs and make a fool of himself–admit that he didn’t need a room, get his gil back, and head for his actual residence. But it would be embarrassing, and Guydelot would be sure to take notice and have a jab at his expense—

Sod it twice over. He would stay here for the night, and Guydelot could do whatever he damn well pleased with the rest of the evening.

Sanson hung up his lance, pulled out a chair by the small desk, and began to unlace his boots. A coeurl couldn’t change their spots, he thought with some resignation. Yet a part of him wasn’t ready to believe that the battle with the siren was just an intermission in his and Guydelot’s otherwise fraught relationship, rather than a true turning point. 

Sanson had just finished pulling off his thighboots when he heard three sharp, rhythmic taps. He glanced up at the door and tilted his head, unsure of whether he had misplaced the sound. But then the knocking came again, squarely on his door, and he begrudgingly got up and opened it.

Heavens help him, it was Guydelot.

“Yes, Guydelot?” Sanson grated. “I thought you were busy basking in the attentions of the fairer sex.”

Guydelot tsked and leaned against the door frame. “Back to being stiff as a board already, are you?”

Sanson pinched the bridge of his nose. Gods, and he had already been on the verge of a headache. 

Guydelot cocked his head lazily. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Sanson looked up at him sharply. But Guydelot just stood there, making slow, catlike blinks, until Sanson wordlessly opened the door wider and stepped aside, gesturing him through.

“I was about to retire for the evening,” he told Guydelot pointedly, closing the door behind him.

Guydelot smoothly sat down in the chair Sanson had vacated, harp in hand. Sanson sighed. If Guydelot had suddenly been captured by his muse, Twelve only knew how long he’d be here for. Maybe he could head him off before he got too comfortable.

“What do you want, Guydelot.”

Guydelot held up a finger for silence. His hand then lowered to the strings. One, two, three heartbeats of silence, then his fingers began to dance, the tune they conjured airy and soft. An instrumental, soothing enough to lull a listener into relaxation or even sleep. 

But Sanson could certainly not relax, let alone sleep, until he had managed to usher Guydelot back out of his room. And so he sank back against the door and gazed toward the ceiling, battling equally his exasperation and the mesmerizing tug of the melody. 

Guydelot began to sing.

“An Adder’s eyes of ocean blue ♪ With songs sung in their depths ♪ And yet - a pity - he cannot tell ♪ When love has come at love’s behest. ♪”

Sanson started. His gaze dropped down to stare at Guydelot, who for the moment seemed wholly focused on his playing.

“His boon companion sought his gaze ♪ No stirring in his breast ♪ As when those eyes of ocean-hue ♪ On him did chance to rest. ♪”

Sanson could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. “Guydelot,” he finally managed, “what in the seven hells are you on about.” 

“No contest to be had by maidens fair ♪ No contest to be had by any there…. ♪”

Guydelot simply looked at him then, his eyes hooded as his fingers glided along the strings. Sanson’s heart crawled into his throat.

“For since the end of siren’s song ♪ A desire mutual, all along. ♪”

The verse ended and the melody drifted to a close. Sanson felt like he was trying to catch his breath. His hands curled. “You…then–” 

Guydelot’s lips curled into a smirk. 

Sanson strode over and grabbed Guydelot by the collar, standing astride his chair and leaning down so they were practically nose to nose. 

“All along?” Sanson’s thoughts were buzzing so frantically in his head that he could hardly make sense of them. “Then stop teasing me, you arse!”

The eagerness with which Guydelot set aside his harp was all Sanson needed. 

The messy, glorious collision of their lips and tongues was, like everything else that Guydelot caught him up in, exhilarating and breathtaking and all too easily spun out of Sanson’s control. He inhaled raggedly through his nose and sank into Guydelot’s lap, burying a hand in Guydelot’s hair to anchor himself.

“Gods,” Sanson said when they parted, his breath hitching as Guydelot began kissing up his neck. “Gods, Guydelot. I thought–...And, Matron preserve, you scared me when you didn’t come back after Tailfeather. I thought I had ruined things between us for good–”

“You thought you had ruined things,” Guydelot muttered against his throat, and it bobbed as Sanson swallowed down his emotion. “I was the bloody fool, misjudging you the way I did, turning my back on you–I couldn’t well face you afterward–” He pulled back and tugged on a handful of the strands of hair framing Sanson’s face, bringing him back in and slanting their lips together once more.

“I waited for you,” Sanson said against his mouth, one hand still fisting his collar. “At Tailfeather, at Sohm Al, Moghome–”

Guydelot’s hands moved to curl around Sanson’s hips. “Aye, I know.”

Sanson pulled back and stared at him, surprised. Guydelot shrugged loosely.

“I wasn’t far behind. I said I couldn’t face you, not that I couldn’t stand to be near you, even if you can be bloody obnoxious sometimes–”

“Hah, speak for yourself,” replied Sanson, breathlessly. “You can be a right pain in the arse, Guydelot, but gods know there was no hope for me since that noble act you did with the nameday present—” he kissed Guydelot again, “—and doubly so when your heavens-sent voice and song came out of nowhere to save us from the siren.”

“Hmph,” Guydelot said, smiling. He drew a hand to Sanson’s nape and pressed deep against the muscle and tissue, massaging there. Sanson melted against him with a relieved sigh.

“Finally, Sanson the Stiff relaxes,” Guydelot said. “Well,” he shifted his hips pointedly, “most of him, anyway.”

Sanson lightly thumped his shoulder. “Bastard,” he mumbled. Guydelot snickered, but Sanson couldn’t be bothered, not when the last coils of tension between them were finally unraveling. 

“Well, it seems it was for the best that I ended up getting a room,” he mused.

Guydelot arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

“Exhaustion. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Ah.”

Something in Guydelot’s voice rang oddly. When Sanson pulled back to look at him, Guydelot was suddenly very keen on looking just about anywhere else.

“Just a moment,” Sanson said, a suspicion nagging at him. “Why did you think I chose to rent a room?”

Guydelot didn’t quite succeed in making his answering shrug nonchalant. 

A wave of heat crawled up Sanson’s neck and rolled across his cheeks. “Now hold on–me, of all people–”

“Why else would you have?” Guydelot finally snapped, his pale cheeks also reddening. “You made yourself bloody obvious about coming up here.”

“Gods!” Sanson laughed, pressing a palm against his forehead. It was a small consolation that Guydelot was clearly feeling mortification as well. “No, that was not the intent…but I don’t dislike the outcome.”

“Aye, well,” Guydelot’s fingers gentled on Sanson’s nape, shifting from massaging to thumbing gently across his skin, “that makes two of us.”

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

The Bhopal Tragedy

On the night of December 2nd, 1984, a Union Carbide plant in Bhopal, India, began leaking 27 tonnes of the deadly gas methyl isocyanate. None of the six safety systems designed to contain such a leak were operational, allowing the gas to spread throughout the city of Bhopal. Half a million people were exposed to the gas and 25,000 have died to date as a result of their exposure. More than 120,000 people still suffer from ailments caused by the accident and the subsequent pollution at the plant site. These ailments include blindness, extreme difficulty in breathing and gynaecological disorders. In the Immediate aftermath, the health care system immediately became overloaded. In the severely affected areas, nearly 70% were under-qualified doctors. Medical staff were unprepared for the thousands of casualties. Doctors and hospitals were not aware of proper treatment methods for MIC gas inhalation. There were mass funerals and cremations. Within a few days, trees in the vicinity became barren, and bloated animal carcasses had to be disposed of. 170,000 people were treated at hospitals and temporary dispensaries, and 2,000 buffalo, goats, and other animals were collected and buried. Supplies, including food, became scarce owing to suppliers' safety fears. Fishing was prohibited, causing further supply shortages. Formal statements after a few weeks were issued that air, water, vegetation, and foodstuffs were safe, but people were warned not to consume fish. The number of children exposed to the gases was at least 200,000. Within weeks, the State Government established a number of hospitals, clinics, and mobile units in the gas-affected area to treat the victims.  A cohort of 80,021 exposed people was registered, along with a control group, a cohort of 15,931 people from areas not exposed to MIC. Nearly every year since 1986, they have answered the same questionnaire. It shows excess mortality and morbidity in the exposed group. Bias and confounding factors cannot be excluded from the study. Because of migration and other factors, 75% of the cohort is lost, as the ones who move out are not followed. A number of clinical studies are performed. The quality varies, but the different reports support each other. Studied and reported long-term health effects are: Eyes: Chronic conjunctivitis, scars on cornea, corneal opacities, early cataracts Respiratory tracts: Obstructive and/or restrictive disease, pulmonary fibrosis, aggravation of tuberculosis and chronic bronchitis Neurological system: Impairment of memory, finer motor skills, numbness, etc. Psychological problems: Post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) Children's health: Peri- and neonatal death rates increased. Failure to grow, intellectual impairment, etc. Missing or insufficient fields for research are female reproduction, chromosomal aberrations, cancer, immune deficiency, neurological sequelae, post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and children born after the disaster. Late cases that might never be highlighted are respiratory insufficiency, cardiac insufficiency (cor pulmonale), cancer and tuberculosis. Bhopal now has high rates of birth defects and records a miscarriage rate 7x higher than the national average. The site has never been properly cleaned up and it continues to poison the residents of Bhopal.

[sarahnasoni]

Diasporas Marking Identity: Karate Kid (2010)

"The Karate Kid (2010)" is a martial arts drama film directed by Harald Zwart. It is a remake of the 1984 Karate Kid film. The movie follows the story of Dre Parker, a 12-year-old boy who moves from Detroit to Beijing because of his mothers job.  Dre finds it challenging to adapt to his new life and faces bullying from a group of local children who are skilled in martial arts. Mr. Han, is the maintenance man in Dre’s building, and comes to Dre's aid, offering to teach him Kung Fu to defend himself. Under Mr. Han's guidance, Dre learns discipline, perseverance, and Kung Fu.

The film explores the themes of migration and arrival in several ways, but is primarily shown through the experiences of its main character, Dre Parker, who relocates from Detroit, Michigan, to Beijing, China. The film depicts Dre's cultural clash as he struggles to adapt to a new and vastly different culture in Beijing, emphasizing the challenges of being in a foreign environment. He experiences a sense of displacement and culture shock as he tries to understand and fit into his new surroundings. This transition is a central theme of the story and shows the challenges that come with migration. As a foreigner he is struggling to adapt to the customs, language, and traditions of his new home. He experiences isolation and hostility due to his status as an outsider. Mr. Han becomes a friend and mentor to Dre, helping him navigate his new life and teaching him about Chinese culture, and valuable life lessons, including martial arts. This mentorship is a key element of Dre's adaptation to his new environment.He does not speak Mandarin, and this lack of language skills creates difficulties in his daily life. Dre and Mr. Hans’ bond transcends racial boundaries, highlights the power of mentorships and serves as a way to explore the positive aspects of migration. The film briefly touches on economic disparities when it shows Mr. Han's modest living conditions compared to the wealthier families in the apartment complex. This economic contrast is not central to the plot but serves to highlight the diverse character backgrounds in the film. Overall, the film explores the themes of migration and arrival by depicting the challenges, cultural exchange, and personal growth that come with moving to a new country, and how these experiences shape the character's journey. Dre's migration to Beijing makes him a target for bullying and alienation from his Chinese peers. Dre faces racial prejudice through bullying and discrimination from his peers, but he overcomes these challenges through his dedication, hard work, and the guidance of Mr. Han, Dre undergoes significant personal growth. He gains confidence, discipline, and martial arts skills, allowing him to move from a position of vulnerability to one of strength and self-assuredness. He eventually gains the respect and friendship of some of the other kids, transcending racial barriers. The movie weaves racial identity and cultural factors into its narrative by highlighting the cultural clash, mentorship, and personal growth of the characters. The film ultimately conveys a message of unity and understanding across cultural and racial divides. 

In the film, various characters exhibit different mentalities related to their experiences in a foreign country. I think that Dre embodies the sojourner mentality as he is new to China and his stay is temporary. He is an outsider and initially struggles to adapt; he views China as a foreign land and is experiencing some culture shock. Over time, he begins to understand and appreciate Chinese culture, but continues to perform the sojourner mentality until the end of the film when he returns to the United States. Meiying, one of Dre’s classmates displays traits of the total assimilator mentality. She is fluent in English as well as Mandarin and has a more cosmopolitan outlook. She is highly integrated into Chinese society but also adapts easily to Dre's American culture. Mr. Han exemplifies the accommodation mentality; he is a Chinese character whose experiences have led him to withdraw from society but later accommodates Dre's arrival and guides him in adapting to Chinese culture. His character promotes a sense of shared identity and mutual understanding. The sojourner mentality emphasizes the idea of being a temporary outsider, the total assimilator mentality demonstrates the ability to fully integrate into and navigate multiple cultures, and the accommodation mentality highlights the ability to find a balance between one's cultural background and the demands of adapting to a new environment. These mentalities showcase the complexities of constructing racial and ethnic identities in a multicultural world.

The film attempts to create a shared identity among characters of the same racial and ethnic descent, primarily among the Chinese characters. The film portrays Chinese cultural traditions and practices, such as kung fu, as a unifying factor among the Chinese characters. Kung fu serves as a common cultural thread that connects the characters and defines their shared identity. Mr. Han’s and Dre’s mentor-student relationship creates a sense of shared identity between them. Dre's interactions with his Chinese neighbors and peers gradually lead to a sense of belonging. They come together to support Dre and a sense of community fosters. As Dre becomes more integrated into the local Chinese community, there is a cultural exchange that takes place as both Dre and the Chinese characters learn from each other, breaking down some of the initial cultural barriers and leading to a shared identity built on mutual understanding. While the film does depict the shared identity among characters of Chinese descent, it also emphasizes the importance of cross-cultural relationships and the idea that shared identity can extend beyond racial and ethnic boundaries through friendship and mutual respect.

As he learns kung fu and becomes more self-confident, he is able to stand up to his bullies and earn their respect. This shift in his social standing demonstrates how he moves from a victim of bullying to a more respected and empowered position. Dre's participation in a kung fu tournament allows him to showcase his skills and receive recognition for his efforts. This recognition is a form of social mobility, as he moves from being an unknown outsider to someone who earns the admiration and respect of his peers in the martial arts community. 

Questions:

How does the choice of casting the main character as a black boy compared to the other movies change the narrative?

2. Do you think the movie employs race and culture accurately?

3. How do you think having a western filmmaker portray Chinese culture impacts the film? Why do you think they changed it to have the boy move to a foregin country, when that was not in the plot of the orgnial Karate Kid?

4. There is big discussions over the name of the film. This movie is centered around Kung Fu unlike the original where karate was taught, why do you think they decided to stay with the original name?

[dailyunsolvedmysteries-movedd]

The Bhopal Tragedy

On the night of December 2nd, 1984, a Union Carbide plant in Bhopal, India, began leaking 27 tonnes of the deadly gas methyl isocyanate. None of the six safety systems designed to contain such a leak were operational, allowing the gas to spread throughout the city of Bhopal. Half a million people were exposed to the gas and 25,000 have died to date as a result of their exposure. More than 120,000 people still suffer from ailments caused by the accident and the subsequent pollution at the plant site. These ailments include blindness, extreme difficulty in breathing and gynaecological disorders. In the Immediate aftermath, the health care system immediately became overloaded. In the severely affected areas, nearly 70% were under-qualified doctors. Medical staff were unprepared for the thousands of casualties. Doctors and hospitals were not aware of proper treatment methods for MIC gas inhalation. There were mass funerals and cremations. Within a few days, trees in the vicinity became barren, and bloated animal carcasses had to be disposed of. 170,000 people were treated at hospitals and temporary dispensaries, and 2,000 buffalo, goats, and other animals were collected and buried. Supplies, including food, became scarce owing to suppliers' safety fears. Fishing was prohibited, causing further supply shortages. Formal statements after a few weeks were issued that air, water, vegetation, and foodstuffs were safe, but people were warned not to consume fish. The number of children exposed to the gases was at least 200,000. Within weeks, the State Government established a number of hospitals, clinics, and mobile units in the gas-affected area to treat the victims.  A cohort of 80,021 exposed people was registered, along with a control group, a cohort of 15,931 people from areas not exposed to MIC. Nearly every year since 1986, they have answered the same questionnaire. It shows excess mortality and morbidity in the exposed group. Bias and confounding factors cannot be excluded from the study. Because of migration and other factors, 75% of the cohort is lost, as the ones who move out are not followed. A number of clinical studies are performed. The quality varies, but the different reports support each other. Studied and reported long-term health effects are: Eyes: Chronic conjunctivitis, scars on cornea, corneal opacities, early cataracts Respiratory tracts: Obstructive and/or restrictive disease, pulmonary fibrosis, aggravation of tuberculosis and chronic bronchitis Neurological system: Impairment of memory, finer motor skills, numbness, etc. Psychological problems: Post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) Children's health: Peri- and neonatal death rates increased. Failure to grow, intellectual impairment, etc. Missing or insufficient fields for research are female reproduction, chromosomal aberrations, cancer, immune deficiency, neurological sequelae, post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and children born after the disaster. Late cases that might never be highlighted are respiratory insufficiency, cardiac insufficiency (cor pulmonale), cancer and tuberculosis. Bhopal now has high rates of birth defects and records a miscarriage rate 7x higher than the national average. The site has never been properly cleaned up and it continues to poison the residents of Bhopal.

[spann-stann]

Setting Blurb: The Eurekan Khaganate

The origins of the Eurekan Khaganate began in the early 2700's, with the terraforming of Venus and the distribution of colonial claims once the planet became more habitable. A collection of mining families from the Australasian region of Viceroyalty Pan-Pacifica banded together to stake a landhold in what would become Aphrodite Terra, the landmass along Venus' equator. In the time it would take for Venus to transition to become more Earth-like, the Eurekan expedition (and other colonial ventures) would reside in a cluster of mothballed orbital habitats.

The Eurekans' stay in their temporary habitat took a turn during the Crystalline invasion of the Solar System in the early 2800's. Refugees and shattered military commands began to flock to the inner solar system as the war progressed to the 2830's, mostly to temporary housing habitats used by groups like the Eurekans. Desperate to win decisive battles to raise morale, the Imperial military chose to lure the aliens onto the surfaces of Earth, Venus, and Mars and draw them into a prolonged series of ground battles, allowing the Imperial Space Force to gather in force to cripple the aliens' space assets.

The Eurekans and their neighbors in Venus' orbit went from housing refugees to serving as a staging ground for the Imperial Land Force, watching what was intended to be their future home become a meatgrinder for alien invader and human defender alike. One Land Force command, Г Brigade, Mongolican Dragoon Division, spent the remainder of the Human-Crystalline war garrisoned with the Eurekans. The cultures of the Eurekan population and Г Brigade began to blend, with members of both groups testing in and out of the Worker and Soldier classes. By the end of the war in 2890, three distinct groups lived side by side: the Eurekans proper, the Soldiers of Г Brigade, and a new group descended from interbreeding between the former two.

Before the end of the 29th century, as the surface of Venus became safe for human habitation, what remained of the "pure" Eurekans opted to settle on the surface as intended. Due to their small population size they were eventually subsumed into another colony of Australasian descent. Г Brigade returned to their home in Viceroyalty Eurasia, and the third group opted to remain in their habitat of origin. Having inherited the mix-and-match of material culture and customs of their ancestors' cultures, this group were instated as the Eurekan Khaganate.

Harkening to the Eurasian half of their ancestry, the Khaganate became an itinerate populace, nomads traveling from planet to planet in their now-mobile habitat. The Eurekans spent the first few centuries of their history in the Asteroid belt, providing services as miners and soldiers, developing mining sites and defending them from pirates and non-Imperials. By the end of the Fourth Dynasty (and the chaos it entailed), the Khaganate enlarged into several sub-Khanates. The growing Khaganate acquired several more habitats to accommodate their growing population.

As the Fifth Dynasty consolidated its rule over the League, and interest of bringing more extrasolar settlements into the fold (or back in the fold), the leadership of the Khaganate discussed the future of the Eurekan people. The growing sub-Khanates began to develop cultures of their own, and each one had differing ideas on the future of the Khaganate. The four largest Khanates agreed to divide the assets of the greater Khaganate between them and go their separate ways.

The 'Roo Khanate - Primarily a Worker subdivision of the Khaganate before it dissolved, the 'Roos preserved and perfected the mining skills of their ancestors that migrated to Venus' orbit. Currently the 'Roos are en route to the Tau Ceti system, hoping to find and extract the untapped riches to be found there.

The Thylacine Khanate - One of the two martial Khanates, the Thylacines inherited some of Г Brigade's obsolete armored combat vehicles. This allowed the Thylacines to become tank specialists, with at least one battalion of tankers serving in the League's TRAPPIST expedition.

The Wolf Spider Khanate - The Wolf Spiders are the second martial Khanate, descended from the original Eurekan's security and light infantry forces. While the Thylacines contribute to the Imperial Land Force, the Wolf Spiders put their skills to use in the Support Service Force's Department of Security and the Space Force's Void Infantry.

The Wobbegong Khanate - Fishermen by trade, the Wobbegong's maintained an orbital habitat to raise and harvest various species of marine life. The Wobbegongs were invited to settle the waters of Europa.

[female-malice]

With her feet rooted on the ground and her voice steady, Colette Pichon Battle seems to be the type of person most of us would want nearby in a crisis. When she speaks about climate change displacing millions, she uses measured words to describe strategies to dismantle structural racism, build alliances in community, and provide legal services for equitable disaster recovery. As I listen to her TED Talk, I’m reminded of a cheer from my high school in coastal Alabama: “Rock, rock, rock, rock, steady, eddy, eddy, eddy, rock! Rock steady.” So I wasn’t surprised to learn she describes her superpower as “seeing patterns in chaos,” an apt skill for the organization she founded, the Gulf Coast Center for Law and Policy, now called Taproot Earth.

Working on the frontlines of climate disasters caused by hurricanes, sea level rise, and fossil fuel companies, she knows that recovery for industries has been quick, and recovery for communities has been slow. From Houston, Texas, to Pensacola, Florida, her work brings climate change to the community level, especially with women at the heart of neighborhoods and households.

“We found that the folks most willing to get to know each other were actually women,” she said in an interview with Reimagine. “When women talk about their communities, it’s sort of like women talking about their children . . . So a lot of the moral fabric and the moral movement of a family and of a community is done through the women.”

She and her staff used a meeting format called the People’s Movement Assembly, which involved Black, Latina, and Asian American women learning about each other’s lives and agreeing to reach a vision together. From there, groups of women followed through on actions, such as talking about the climate crisis and extractive industries with elected officials in Louisiana who needed the vote from people of color.

In Bayou Liberty, just north of New Orleans, Colette grew up in the house built by her grandfather, where her mother was born. There, water was a way of life: “The bayou is green and lush and all the things that equal bountiful life,” she told TED Radio, “But it is also watery and muddy. You can smell everything.”

She remembers the names of particular hurricanes along the Gulf Coast, much as I did growing up in Alabama. During the eye of the storm, family members would get into flat-bottomed boats called pirogues to check on neighbors before retreating to safety inside while the other band of the hurricane passed. But the water became unrecognizable given the severity of Hurricane Katrina. As an adult, Colette practiced law in Washington, DC, but after the destruction of Katrina, she vowed never to leave her beloved Gulf Coast again.

When she first saw the Louisiana flood maps at a community meeting, Colette says her life changed. The maps explained how the thirty-foot surge from Hurricane Katrina could flood her community as well as those in Mississippi and Alabama. She realized the land lost from sea level rise was the buffer to her own home—a buffer predicted to disappear. “I wasn’t alone at the front of the room,” she explained. “I was standing there with other members of south Louisiana’s communities—Black, Native, poor. We thought we were just bound by temporary disaster recovery, but we found that we were now bound by the impossible task of ensuring that our communities would not be erased by sea level rise due to climate change.

“I just assumed it would always be there. Land, trees, marsh, bayou. I just assumed it would be there as it had been for thousands of years,” she said. “I was wrong.” Knowing climate is predicted to displace more than 200 million people by the next century, Colette advocates for preparing for global migration by restructuring social and economic systems rooted in justice, such as investing in public hospitals before the impact of climate migration or additional storms like Hurricane Ida. It’s not like we don’t know what is coming, and Colette knows preparation is a life-and-death matter.

“Climate change is not the problem,” she said. “Climate change is the most horrible symptom of an economic system that has been built for a few to extract every precious value out of this planet and its people, from our natural resources to the fruits of our human labor.”

What holds clear and steady is her belief of what can be done now. “It’s already possible, y’all,” she often tells people, with the practical sense of someone who can get things done. Colette knows women who have the most to lose from climate disasters also know what it’ll take to plan for the future and anticipate the storm.

Reprinted with permission from Love Your Mother: 50 States, 50 Stories, and 50 Women United for Climate Justice by Mallory McDuff © 2023.

[circlejourney]

I had to let go of my life dream of doing creative work for the rest of my life, and all my efforts at developing my career in that direction, because it won't get me a permanent visa.

Creative arts don't count under the "skilled jobs" that Australia wants. Any job relating directly to art or music literally will not qualify me for a visa via work.

That's the crux of it. Art/music is a dead end if I am planning on migrating permanently.

It is so sad. I could stay as a temporary resident, and keep paying taxes without getting any of the benefits of public funding. But that would genuinely suck. I wonder all the time where I would be right now if I didn't have to alter all my life plans to give myself the best chance of staying here for good.

(I would however love to be a professional web dev locally, and I often regret that life events made me reject the internship I could have gotten back in 2019)

[ongoing-catastrophe]

Someone asked for a non-USA specific one so I'll try my best, but if anyone has things to ad please do

- if you live anywhere with a large Indian population, hindu mandirs and sikh gurudwaras offer "langar" regularly (free food) and dont deny anyone a meal.

- ashrams and dharamshalas both offer places to sleep. traditionally for free but even if they charge it should be cheap (unless it's one of the tourist trap ones in which case ignore them)

- fruit trees are a food source. and they grow wild in many parts of the world. keep track of the fruit trees in your area. there's unlikely to be anything poisonous growing in an urban environment. in rural areas be more careful.

- in rural areas, seasonal farm jobs are common and so is labor migration. if you're there early in the season and are physically able, you can get a seasonal job. sometimes they offer temporary accommodation so that you're close to the land.

- if you're in an area that does clothing manufacturing, knowing how to use a sewing machine can get you a factory job. there isn't a lot of skill required for mass clothing production.

- any and all community pool areas have a shower. membership varies across countries.

- if you're near a college campus there might be free food days organized by various organizations. check out the bulletin boards.

- check for government schemes in your area. not just for housing, but for medical insurance, food, education, etc. every country has something, if you ask around you will find it.

- if youre not homeless yet, try to find solutions before you reach that point. if you can't afford rent anymore, start looking for food drives, community kitchens, or government ration orgrams. government schemes to subsidize gas and electricity payments exist. make use of them.

- if you're fleeing an abusive situation, use your local resources. many places for women and children helplines. they can guide you on how to go about it. contact your friends and family even if you haven't in a long time. they will want to help you. reach out to shelters specific to your situation. they can offer assistance.

- if you have friends and family who might help, ask for help. if there was ever a time, it's now. it might feel embarrassing, but your wellbeing should always outrank your shame.

What to do if you suddenly find yourself homeless

FOOD

Find your nearest food bank or mission, for food

grocery stores with free samples, bakeries + stores with day-old bread

different fast food outlets have cheaper food and will generally let you hang out for a while.

some dollar stores carry food like cans of beans or fruit

SHELTER

Sleeping at beaches during the day is a good way to avoid suspicion and harassment

sleep with your bag strapped to you, so someone can’t steal it

Some churches offer short term residence

Find your nearest homeless shelter

Look for places that are open to the public

A large dumpster near a wall can often be moved so that flipping up the lids creates an angled shelter to stay dry

HYGIENE

A membership to the YMCA is usually only 10$, which has a shower, and sometimes laundry machines and lockers.

Public libraries have bathrooms you can use

Dollar stores carry low-end soaps and deodorant etc.

Wet wipes are all purpose and a life saver

Local beaches, go for a quick swim

Some truck stops have showers you can pay for

Staying clean is the best way to prevent disease, and potentially get a job to get back on your feet

Pack 7 pairs of socks/undies, 2 outfits, and one hooded rain jacket

OTHER

first aid kit

 sunscreen

 a travel alarm clock or watch

 mylar emergency blanket

 a backpack is a must

 downgrade your cellphone to a pay as you go with top-up cards

 sleeping bag

 travel kit of toothbrush, hair brush/comb, mirror

 swiss army knife

 can opener

[oppossumposse]

Ozma; Ancestries Overview

For the next look over my setting Ozma time to take a quick glance at the various ancestries making up the game. This is really where me and my pals had the most fun, all of us contributing various joke ideas, some of which will become more apparent into the deeper dives in the ancestries. The main things to remember is my inspiration for the world was two fold; flying monkeys? and damn what if orcs were truckers.

Everything else kinda fell into to place later once I realized I wanted the feel of classic rpgs but with like a modern fantasypunk flair. The setting is at its base very silly jokes but played serious (as serious as my friends are able).

Once I get into the deeper dives I'll also supply the stats, keeping in mind its intended for Savage Worlds, but down the line I might translate some of this into other settings I enjoy as well? It'd probably go real hard in any action/pulpy system.

Ancestries Overview

Covenborn: The children of the great and powerful Three Sisters, a coven of witches who run the alchemical industry. Rumored to be created from the various orphans of the city, once humans becoming green skinned and distinctly magical. Not much is publicly known about the Covenborn, other than not to cross them lest ye be hexed, and that’s how the Three Sisters like it. What do they plan? Do the Covenborn know why their mothers desire such a huge clan? Is the ominous drip part of the transformation ritual?

Known for; skilled Potion-Soda crafting, magical power, and strange aversions.

Dwarves: Legend states the dwarves were carved from the very bedrock of the world by the Craftsman, and given the breath of life by the Artist, a humble people building grand monuments. Now in the modern age they build massive skyscrapers and complex public art, honoring gods long sealed away in hopes they may one day find their way back.

Known for; a taste for Art Deco, bodies tough as rock, and a strong sense of community.

Elves: The remnants of the ancient empire, the ones living among Ozma made up of mostly the Elves which worked against the tyrants before. Long lived, though no longer immortal as they once were, many Elves still are kicking around from the city’s founding. They use this immense pool of knowledge mostly to influence the fashion scene.

Known for; long lives, cosmetic magics, and a finger on the pulse of fashion.

Flying Monkeys: Summoned from somewhere far away, perhaps another realm by the Covenborn years ago. Creatures looking like common Capuchin monkeys but with big furry bat wings and a rocking business casual fashion. Originally summoned to work finances for the Three Sisters’ Potion-Soda factory many have sense migrated into becoming full fledged Ozma citizens, doing well across many sectors of the city.

Known for; an interesting sense of honor, a fresh take on the city’s culture, a sarcastic wit.

Halflings: A stout people once used to an idyllic life and back to it now that the temporary interruption of a dark magic empire is over. Thankfully for everyone in Ozma the Halflings kept much of their rich culinary history intact allowing a revival of a good food scene in the city!

Known for; great music, greater food, and an ability to always find the bright side in things.

Humans: A wild people originally, Humans were used as beasts by the Empire at one point. Unfortunately for them it seemed they had a strange connection to the divine, even dead gods granted power to them, some previously sacrificed even began to stir once more at their prayers. Now Humans fill the streets of Ozma with a zeal and energy that rivals the pulse of the Neon Sun above.

Known for; passion, short lives and a call to action.

Orcs: A nomadic people, the Orcs were some of the few to avoid the Elves, their gods and spirits found not as a lofty divine but rather the elements themselves. They made deals with these spirits to create vehicles and machines capable of standing up to the dark magic of Empire, and even to this day essential to any supply routes to and out of the city. They stand against tyranny wherever it festers, warning against the dangers of hierarchy and unchecked authority.

Known for; big rigs, esoteric knowledge of the land, a thirst for freedom