#the east team is represented by only two people

[marcusrobertobaq]

DBH worldbuilding info u're supposed to know

The collection

US is having major issues with sea level rising quickly, making even the wealthy residents deciding not living right on the coast anymore. Polar ice has melted to an extent that rising sea levels have many states struggling to keep the water out of their coastal towns (Magazine)

CyberLife's intention with complex level humanization was to literally make people welcome 'em home like they're family instead of getting creeped about it (Magazine)

VR games are very common by 2038 (Magazine)

The President Cristina Warren is an ex-vlogger with no experience in government that relied on social media and celebrity status to be elected in 2036, originally a republican representative. There's a "rumor" CyberLife helped she getting elected by corrupt means and that's why they're "too close" (Magazine, Gallery, Cut concepts)

Warren got an approval of only 33% due to the sequence of bad decisions (Magazine)

The world's population is 10 billion by 2038 (Magazine)

Obesity is in a record high in Detroit by 2038 (Magazine)

NATO is divided about the Russia vs US conflict in the Arctic, they think everybody can benefit of the region without war but Warren is totally pushing for a conflict (Magazine)

Rare minerals used in synthetizing Thirium got Russia and US biting each other in the North Pole in recent yrs. Android manufacture dominates both the US and Russian economies (Magazine)

Kamski being the one creating Thirium 310 and biocomponents more than a decade ago suggests other areas with these minerals were already explored, the North Pole being the last one (Assumption)

Police is constantly using marketing data to identify criminals (Magazine)

Dating websites usually have less than 5% of women using it (Magazine)

0.4% of world population holds 94% of global wealth by 2038 (Magazine)

By 2038 there's constant propaganda selling Canada as the true land of freedom (Magazine)

No matter how u play as Markus u gonna eventually have event contexts distorted, including fake news. They're called criminal org and terrorists no matter what u do (Observation)

CyberLife developed a nano-android to help combating cancer and diseases that can extend the human life-span even reaching a semi-immortality status - and it's very promising as it was already succesful in doing its task (Magazine)

US life expectancy is 91 by 2038 (Magazine)

By 2038 US got a aging population but not enough young people to support the economy with the unemployment rate at 37.3%, and the "job" area is dominated by androids (Magazine, Observation)

When the rebellion starts the gov consider bringing retirees back to work as the country lack qualified manpower to deal with the withdraw of androids (Cut dialogue)

Only two countries have android industries that rival the United States: Russia and China, they're also in a space race of sorts (Magazine)

Team sports like baseball got at least 1 android per team (Magazine)

An advanced high speed train was completed in 2038, connecting New York and LA in less than 2,5 hrs and there's a high flux of east coast folks going to LA (Magazine)

Suburban prices there have rose 64% and California folks are worried they gonna get pushed out of the region (Magazine)

Detroit is currently in a Red Ice epidemic with it being the easiest route the poor go, either by selling or using it (Magazine)

There was a Red Ice Task Force from 2027 to 2031 that made major arrests and drug seizure during the first epidemic (Gallery, Articles)

Bees are extinct by 2038 and people expect a global famine. CyberLife is already making partnerships to create bee-robots while other groups try finding new alternatives (Magazine)

Environmentalists say the Earth’s environment is beyond repair (Magazine)

Global rainforests have been reduced by 79% since 2000 and coastal corals by 58% (Magazine)

During the events of the game an earthquake kills 10k people in China (Magazine)

CyberLife has partnership with the Department of Defense in the development and supply of military androids, something that started in the early 30s after it was approved to limit human casualties in the battlefield (Magazine, Observation)

In 2031 the US gov ordered 2 million androids for use in the infantry, mostly SQ800 units already being deployed in 2032 replacing human soldiers.

Michigan also announced the purchase of 5k auxiliary androids to assist law enforcement department but following the 2029 Android Act they can't use weapons (PlayStation Blog)

U.S. Army soldiers are equipped with advanced equipment to keep up with their android "subordinates" (Gallery)

Stock exchange falls 10% on fear of Arctic conflict by 2038 (Magazine)

68% of men prefer sex with an android to a human woman and with 52% of men saying they’ve tried the experience at least once (Magazine)

CyberLife currently got around 120 million androids across the globe and some people suspect they're using 'em to spy on people (Magazine)

There are at least 200k military android units already in service across the US military by 2038 and the gov is buying more for the Arctic conflict, an effort to double the infantry size (Magazine)

The US Army is 60~80% android, with humans mainly as commanders and strategists but they tend to use complex AIs to help with assistance (Magazine)

Sales of android intimate partners are very high as lotta men and women prefer living with an android than a human partner (Magazine)

Birthrate is at record low, population decline is said to be irreversible, marriage is in decline as traditional families become “thing of the past” and the divorce rate only increases (Magazine, News, Observation)

US is currently in an "antidepressant epidemic" due to the constant contact with technology, with people even lacking emotional development (Magazine)

The AX400 price is $899 by 2038 (Magazine)

5% of the music market is produced by human musicians. An android boyband Here4U is favorite to win Best Act, Best Video at global music awards - which are human record awards (Magazine, News)

Scientists found "alien" life on Titan: microorganisms living hundreds of kilometers below the surface, in an ocean of salt water protected by a thick layer of ice. The machine-i-forgot-the-name was sent in 2019 (Magazine)

Lute turtles, polar bears, mountain gorillas, african elephants and several species of tiger are extinct by 2038, with CyberLife now making some sorta android zoos (Magazine)

Canada is an android-free zone they don't sell or have any laws about it there as they don't permit androids inside 'em borders (Magazine)

CyberLife has recently released a tech demo of a quaterback android, something that got the Anti-Android Fan Group pissed (Magazine)

There's some sorta quantum magnet being studied that got the potential of cleaning carbon from the air (Magazine)

The Anti-Automation League and CrowneCars representants are in a discussion about ethical decision-making capability of autonomous cars (Magazine)

CyberLife has made a new quantum supercomputer, capable of one billion billion operations per second used to calculate the probability of mass extinction events (Magazine)

Hackers targeting systems like solar panels for ransom seems to be common thing (Magazine)

NASA announced the launch of a five android crew to explore Io (first time it's a full-machine crew). The journey will last three years (Magazine)

CyberLife is a trillionaire company by 2038, they were already billionaires a decade before (Magazine)

The first android ever officially released by CyberLife was the ST200 Chloe, costing 65k in 2024. By 2027 they already had 1mi androids sold (PlayStation Blog)

[continues on the next reblog]

[thetriggeredhappy]

Hello! I really liked the recent chapter you posted. I'm excited to see more :]

Do you mind elaborating on Spy's jewishness? It's a very fun headcanon and I'd like to learn what you think about it ^_^

sure! first of all 🍉🍉🍉 to be clear

sniper and spy are the only two who i’ve explicitly stated as jewish within the text, i think, and likely the only two for whom it’s going to come up super frequently, but i also do think that tony’s wife theresa is jewish, as is collin’s wife lily, and i don’t think any singular one of them is the classic Monolith To Represent An Entire Culture Singularly.

i imagine spy was somewhat heavier on tradition for himself, more orthodox, follows kosher, that sort of thing, and that if his family were still physically present enough to be part of his life they would be absolutely flabbergasted that he married an irish catholic woman and even more flabbergasted at how chill she is about it. i imagine spy is a pretty private guy but went out of his way to stay in contact with the judeo-french community in boston. this would’ve been around, like, ~1940 or so? the O’Connell family i always believed to be closer to South End, which was historically a cultural hub in the city. him being part of espionage efforts as a teen throughout the 20s means that he had a pretty unusual immigrant experience for that reason, but i thought it was more interesting to sort of keep spy more grounded in reality compared to the team fortressing of the rest of the peripheral landscape. some of the older boys who remember when spy was around remember how hard spy and ma worked to celebrate the holidays for both catholic traditions and french jewish traditions, and archie for example has tried to pass that on to his own kids as well.

sniper meanwhile i have grounded as kind of the ‘my family is jewish but um y’know not in the way that people hate’ brand ‘palatable immigrant or different culture trying not to take up space in a place that is not necessarily friendly to outsiders’ story. his mum and dad were the only jewish people in their relatively small community by the time sniper was a young boy and they really did try to keep up traditions, but it’s hard when you have no outside support to help reinforce that stuff. sniper has a (relatable) internal sense of being both an outsider to the predominant culture while also not feeling confident enough in it being ‘his culture’ to make any claims for himself. i imagine that if he could meet some of spy’s old buddies in boston and connect a little more with the diaspora he would be able to start feeling more of that pride and connection, but as it is he’s caught between dodging antisemitism and denying a culture that does matter to him but in a way that’s difficult to verbalize and not often asked about.

i think spy and sniper might bicker about it at times in later chapters, next chapter in particular. scout’s ma is definitely going to make at least one more comment about scout getting married to a nice jewish boy though. that trope in media about east coasters is just too much of a staple to pass up.

[space-mermaid-writing]

"Send me any prompt"

VAMPIRE STEPHEN 🦇

i see a prompt request and i trip and choke and die in my haste to ask for vampire stephen. prepare for paragraphs of inane vampire rambling over discord.

I expected nothing less from you :D Have this 5+1 sequel of 'The Vamp and the Were'. Beta by KJ <3 Everyone listen to 'Secretly A Vampire'. It's very vampire Stephen coded.

Summary: 5 times the team didn’t know Stephen was a vampire and 1 time he didn’t realize they knew

Tags: Vampire!Stephen Strange, Werewolf!Tony Stark, IronStrange, established Relationship, 5+1, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff, revealed secret, whump Stephen, protective Tony

Ko-fi | Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Word count: 4.8k

Secretly a vampire

1

Stephen stepped through his portal and into the Avenger’s tower. More specifically into a conference room.

“Thank you for joining us today, doctor,” Rogers greeted him.

Stephen answered with a nod and sat down on one of the many free chairs. At least he wasn’t the last one to this meeting. It was the first one he attended. So far he had always refused to go; not because the Avengers were publicly known for hunting vampires – and Stephen was a Vamp.

It was problematic on several levels.

Stephen himself hunted vampires as well but only those who posed a danger to society. Those Vamps who had lost their minds and succumbed to their blood lust.

Unfortunately, there were a lot of those. And they were – rightfully – feared by the public eye.

But there were other vampires as well, living a normal life. At least as normal as life could be if sunlight killed you and your species was hunted down.

Stephen was the best example of those kinds of Vamps.

Well, Stephen was a mediocre example because he was a Master of the Mystic Arts and thus did not represent the norm.

But in his work he distinguished between dangerous and harmless vampires. Just as the Avengers should do it.

Albeit they were a long way from it.

Stark entered the conference room, carrying a mug that held probably an unhealthy ratio of coffee to liquid. He dropped into the chair right next to Stephen.

Tony was the only other person in the room who knew Stephen's secret. He had found out by accident; a mission gone bad. Although it had probably been inevitable, considering how they had circled around each other.

Tony threw a wink at him and Stephen scoffed affectionately. Tony knew Stephen wasn’t a fan of pda – at least outside of what he considered family – and thankfully the werewolf kept his hands to himself.

Clint was the last one to arrive; also with a coffee in his hands. He slid into a seat in the back and Rogers started the meeting.

Stephen listened only with one ear. If he was honest, he was just here to show some Sorcerer-Avengers alliance. And because he got tired of the Avengers asking him to join.

Bored, his eyes wandered to the big panorama window. They were on the east side of the tower and since it was late afternoon there was no direct sunlight coming in. Tony had installed UV filtering windows in the whole tower anyway, so that Stephen could move freely within it at any time of day or night, without worrying about getting burned.

“… they reported traces of vampires in Middlesex, New Jersey.” The map of a neighborhood near the sea could be seen on the large screen on the wall. "So far it's been narrowed down to this area. We'll look into it. Get ready to strike soon."

Stephen's jaw tightened when Rogers circled a specific block in South Amboy. He had meant to stay in the background and not attract attention. But if they keep following that specific lead, innocent people might get hurt.

Given two choices, Stephen always chose the one that protected others; instead of himself. That was why he spoke up.

“Actually, the Vamps in that area aren’t dangerous. Quite the opposite: they proved to be useful in providing valuable information on illegal cargo several times.”

All heads turned to him, surprised – even Tony, although for a different reason.

“Vampires are always dangerous,” Natasha chimed in. Her eyes were as sharp as her facial features. Stephen was pretty sure there was some fae somewhere in her blood line. It would explain so much about her.

The sorcerer gritted his teeth. They didn’t know this was a sensitive topic to him. A very personal one. He refused to back down.

“Not all vampires are mindless beasts. I’ve talked to several individuals who are actually very pleasant to be around. And they don’t kill humans for blood.”

“It’s true,” Tony added and Stephen's eyes shot over to him. Of course Tony backed his partner up.

His support seemed to help Stephen's case, because Rogers gave in. “Alright. But we will keep an eye on it.”

Stephen just nodded.

In a subtle gesture Tony put his hand on Stephen's leg, calming him. It wasn’t really necessary, but it was the thought that counted.

Self-preservation hindered Stephen from revealing more in front of the team. He decided to warn his contacts in New Jersey anyway.

The rest of the meeting he leaned back, listening in silence.

Tony didn’t move his hand away the whole time.

2

The wooden stake to his chest was a surprise. It had come out of nowhere. An improvised weapon, pulled from the rubble of the construction site where they were fighting.

White-hot searing shards of pain erupted from the wound.

Stephen hissed in agony. He managed to whirl a spell at the attacker, but the damage was done. He staggered sideways.

“Doctor Strange!” Peter rushed to his aid.

It had been movie night and he, Tony and Peter had been comfortable on the couch when Jarvis had informed them about the attack. Some other Avengers – who had also got the call – had joined the fight.

Stephen was bent over kneeling, trying to regain control over the pain, when the boy crowded his personal space.

“Are you okay?” Peter, who had no problem facing scary monsters, was overwhelmed by the situation. He had no idea what he could do to help Strange - and the fact that the vampire didn't respond only increased his panic.

“Are you going to die?” Peter’s worried face was hidden under his mask but his voice was breaking. A wooden stake to the heart was one of the big myths about killing a vampire.

Fortunately, a wrong one.

“No,” Stephen pressed between his teeth. And then a not very convincing, “It’s going to be alright.”

Sam landed beside them. His wings retreated into the pack on his back as soon as his feet touched the ground. “Shit, doc. Paramedics are on their way.”

Stephen wouldn’t wait for them.

“I need you to pull it out.” The sorcerer gestured to the stake. He didn’t want to burden Peter with the task. And he couldn't do it on his own; he needed all his strength to hold back his teeth from kicking out. It was a shock reaction of his body to defend itself.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked. “That looks nasty.”

It probably did. More so because the Avengers thought he was a regular human being. He was probably wondering how Stephen was still standing on his feet.

“I’m a doctor. And I have magic. I will heal in no time.” Stephen’s voice was pressed. Just because he was a vampire didn’t mean he wasn’t suffering. He was indeed in a lot of pain.

Finally, Sam stopped protesting. Instead, he put his hand around the stake; and pulled.

Stephen's lips tightened, wrinkles forming where none existed before. His breath seized – even though a vampire didn’t have to breathe at all. But it helped with the pain. At least that was what he told himself.

Stephen managed to cast a spell that mended his robes, concealing the wound from sight. His vampire powers would take care of that one. He just needed some rest and a blood bag from his refrigerator.

As soon as Sam got the wooden stake out completely, he threw it away in disgust. It was drenched in blood and other liquids the Avenger didn’t want to think about too closely.

There was an angry growl approaching them fast.

Oh yeah, now Sam had to calm down a concerned and very feral lover, who had probably smelled the sorcerer’s blood on the other side of the battlefield, as well as heard his cry of pain.

3

Stephen avoided going outside during the day. Understandably, since it would literally kill him – if he didn’t take precautions. Usually, there was no reason for him to hit the streets in broad daylight anyway.

Usually.

But this was a magic-related emergency right in the middle of bustling central New York, and Wong wasn’t currently available. Which was why Stephen was here, wearing several protection spells so the sun wouldn't burn him to a crisp immediately. The cloak rested on his shoulders, expanding his collar to a full hood to provide extra protection.

The glowing box that hovered six feet in the air in Central Park better be worth this.

Tony didn’t leave his side. Ever since the incident in Australia, this was a sensitive topic between them and the werewolf acted overly protective. Stephen didn’t argue with him. He had learned his lesson. He did accept Tony’s sunglasses though.

“For your eyes,” the Were muttered.

Stephen wasn’t sure if it was meant to protect them, or if they currently betrayed his true nature by turning into a bright shade of red. So he hid them behind the tinted glasses.

It was late in the morning, not yet noon, and the day not too warm. He could work with that; as long as his time outside was kept short. Despite all precautions, he felt a headache approaching.

“Thank you for coming by,” Natasha greeted them, approaching from the side. She and Clint had been the first ones to the scene. But as soon as they had seen that flying box, they had called the sorcerer.

Stephen turned his head to her, shielding his face from the sun with his hand. Even with the sunglasses it felt too bright. And maybe he imagined it, but his skin felt itchy.

Natasha took in the unfamiliar style of the Cloak of Levitation, and the accessory that obviously belonged to Tony. As well as his defensive posture. “Are you alright, doctor?”

Stephen wasn’t surprised she noticed something. She was very observant.

Before Stephen could open his mouth, Tony chimed in, chuckling. “You see, our wizard here has a bit of a hangover. It got late yesterday and we may have opened one bottle of wine too many.” He looked at Stephen with mischief dancing in his eyes, “Next time you should stick to grape juice.”

The vampire didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to; it was written on his face that he was not impressed by those words – even with half of it hidden.

When Stephen didn’t object – and really, why should he? This was the perfect excuse – Tony grinned broadly and bumped his shoulder with Natasha. “We should avoid loud noises and bright light,” he stage-whispered, prompting her to follow him towards the weird magic object – and away from Stephen.

4

Bruce opened the door to the supply room – and stopped right in his tracks. “Oh… eh, I’m… I’m sorry, guys…”

He had clearly caught Tony and Stephen in flagranti. Stephen had pushed Tony against the shelf in the back, and was currently working on the soft skin of his neck, right between his ear and his shoulder. His back was to the door and he stills as soon as he heard it open. But he didn’t turn around nor did he make any kind of move.

Tony had his head tilted sideways to give him more room. His hands were on Stephen's shoulders, grasping the fabric of his shirt, while his legs were wrapped around the sorcerer’s hips.

He clearly enjoyed what they were doing very much. His pupils were blown wide and his eyes dark, when he locked them with Bruce.

Tony was slow to react. “Oh… hi, Brucie…” He smiled lazily.

There was a low growl in the room; surprisingly it didn’t come from the werewolf.

“You should leave,” Tony still hazily smiled. “Room’s occupied”

“Yes..sorry…” Bruce shuffled away, his head red by embarrassment.

The haze on his brain lifted enough to ask Jarvis, “What was that about, J?”

“I apologize, Sir. This room has no form of locking mechanism.”

That was something Tony should change. He made a mental note to add a lock to every single door in the compound.

The thought was forgotten in an instant when Stephen started to lick over where he had just bitten Tony. It was to close the wound; and to get Tony’s attention back.

The engineer shifted his focus back on the vampire. He rocked his hips against Stephen’s and elicited another growl from him, this time more needy.

5

Stephen was tired. Not ‘I need to go to sleep because he was a regular living being’-tired. No, vampires were physically and mentally not able to sleep; even if they wanted to. They were undead. And while the dead slept permanently, the undead never did.

This could be exhausting in its own way.

When he joined the Mystic Arts, Stephen learned to meditate, which was an effective way to shut off his mind; at least for a while.

Stephen had been gone from this dimension for a few days and now he craved a drink, a quiet and dark room, and the scent of Tony. Preferably a combination of all three things together.

He opened a portal straight into Tony’s bedroom.

Of course he didn’t find Tony there. The Were was barely in his own bed when Stephen was present. Without him, he probably barely walked in here at all. Plus, the sun had already risen.

Stephen went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Tony always had fresh blood for him available - packed into innocent looking, unlabeled boxes. It made sense; this was Tony’s private penthouse, but he often had guests over; Avengers coming upstairs. Stephen wouldn't want them to ask unwelcome questions.

He took a box and a glass – he refused to stick a straw into it. It would look too much like a juice box and Stephen just knew Tony would make a joke about that.

Instead he poured the red liquid into a wine glass. It was easier for him to hold it with the stem placed between his digits to prevent it from falling.

“Jarvis, where’s Tony?”

“In his laboratory, Doctor Strange.”

The Vamp opened another portal with the intention to at least steal a kiss from his partner, before he retired for the day. He changed his robes into something comfortable while walking through.

“… can you make one that ticks like a bomb, but instead of exploding there will be a small banner popping out that says ‘boom’. And then it will explode… oh, hey doc.”

Stephen realized too late that Tony wasn’t alone. Clint was standing next to his desk, both men leaning over schematics for what seemed to be trick arrows.

Walking up to his partner, Stephen took a sip from his drink.

Clint’s eyes followed the movement of his glass. “Is that red wine?”

Stephen paused, looking down at the red liquid. He was lucky Clint was human and couldn't smell blood over that distance.

He licked over his lips and noticed Tony was watching their interaction rather amused.

“Is that a problem?” he answered with a counter question.

Clint just shrugged. He certainly didn’t judge him, even though it was barely 10 a.m. in the morning.

+1

Stephen was in Kamar-Taj when he got the call from Tony.

“Poison Ivy is attacking Washington DC. We could use some backup.”

Stephen frowned and glanced at his phone. It was early in the morning, which meant it was pretty late on the East Coast.

“Really?” he asked. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I would also rather work in the lab right now. You coming?”

"Shields are at fifty-seven percent," Jarvis interjects. There was an explosion somewhere in the distance on their side.

"No pressure," Tony reassured either Stephen or himself, the Vamp wasn’t sure.

���Yes, just send me a-”, his phone chimed when he got a message, “…photo.”

“See you on the other side.”

Tony hung up and Stephen opened the photo. It showed a street lamp that was overgrown with vines – just like the sidewalk in the background. Everything was a bit blurry but good enough for Stephen’s magic to work. He opened a portal and with one step he was standing on the other side of the world.

There was chaos in the streets. In the dead of night, they were filled with a sense of urgent as people ran frantically in all directions. The sound of sirens wailed in the distance, adding to the cacophony of fear and confusion.

Stephen detected the general scent of panic in the air; it smelled sour and sharp with a hint of uncertainness.

Suddenly the asphalt cracked open and spiky vines shot high into the air. They chased Peter, who was swinging between the tall buildings.

Stephen summoned sharp and glowing discs and cut the stem. The heavy upper part fell – as the cloak of levitation pulled Stephen into safety – and hit the ground with a loud thud. The lower half of the tendrils, however, continued to move; like cut tentacles, but more angry now. Stephen cut them again, this time right above the ground.

The Iron Man suit stopped next to him midair, opening the face plate. “Thanks for joining. We’re currently dealing with Rose and Thorn, but her plant pets have a mind of their own and they cover a lot of ground here; destroying streets and buildings.”

“They’re Solanaceae.” At Tony's quizzical look, Stephen added, “Nightshades. They probably get stronger during the night.”

“A cousin of yours?”

“Funny,” the Vamp dead-panned. “I’ll do what I can, but our best bet is probably a giant flamethrower.” Fire killed almost everything efficiently, plants as well as vampires.

“Since when do you have a doctorate in botany? I’ll see if I can get propane from somewhere. Might take a while though.”

“Great. In the meantime, I'll take care of the weeds.”

They parted ways. Tony flew off while Stephen moved right next to where more plants breached through the street. He cut them as low as he could reach with his magic even though he knew it would be more effective to get rid of the roots.

At the same time that was more difficult, especially since he didn’t know how deep they went, or in what way they were connected to each other.

The more he attacked them, the more ferocious they got. The plants seemed almost sentient, sensing where he was, even though he remained mostly in the air and didn’t so much as touch the ground with his feet.

It made Stephen hesitate, wondering what exactly he was facing. It wasn’t magic; not really. Maybe – and that was a big maybe – he could find a way to communicate with them and make them leave.

The asphalt cracked in several places right below Stephen. The Cloak of Levitation pulled him back, but the plants seemed to focus solely on the sorcerer. They hit him before he could throw up a defense spell.

Three big branches pierced his torso and Stephen let out a cry, low and anguished that carried through the streets.

The cloak billowed, trying to pull him free. The movement only made it worse.

Another vine yanked the cloak off him. Someone called out for Stephen, but the noise was muffled in his ears.

The vines hurled him around and then threw him through the air. His loyal cloak zipped after him but wasn’t fast enough to catch him before he hit the pavement and tumbled over several times.

Ironically, the plants softened his fall – albeit only insignificantly.

Stephen gasped for air; and immediately choked on liquid. His lung must have been pierced and blood was pooling in it. He stopped breathing to avoid choking.

He propped himself up on his elbows – his hands were shaking badly – before he rolled onto his side. Deep in his stomach, a dark purple orb of anguish seemed to throb with his pulse. His vision was hazy and tinted red. The feeling of bleeding out was all-consuming.

“Stephen!”

The plants around him were burned away by a modified blast as Tony landed at his side. The werewolf crouched down to examine his partner. The suit retreated from his hands and his head. He wanted nothing more than to cradle the man in his arms, but the presence of the enemy was too close.

“Shit, Stephen, talk to me.”

“’m fine,” was what Stephen wanted to say. All that got out was a gurgling noise. Blood ran down his chin. The vampire turned his head and spat it out, even though it sent vile warnings throughout his innards.

He heard the voice of Jarvis, running a diagnostic scan of him: “…as well as his lung and abdomen. He is experiencing heavy blood loss. Immediate intervention is advised.”

That sounded about right.

“You need blood,” Tony observed what Stephen had already concluded as well. He was losing the vital liquid too fast. His throat felt dry, even though he was still choking. And he didn’t have the strength to check but he knew his fingers were sharp claws and his teeth on display. It was his body urging him to hunt.

For now he was still in control of his mind, yet he had to act fast. Or he would turn into a wild beast that would prioritize to ensure his survival.

Tony helped Stephen sit up. He groaned in displeasure as the pain intensified. Then he grunted with horror as Tony took off one arm part of his armor.

“What…you doin’?” he muttered, barely intelligible.

“I told you: you need blood. Don’t argue about it. Not now.” Not while they were in the midst of an emergency. Not again.

Stephen looked at him, shaking his head. He had already drunk from Tony twice this week. It had only been small amounts, but the body of the werewolf needed time to replenish its blood. With all his injuries, Stephen would need more than Tony had to give. Stephen might feel better, but Tony would die of blood loss.

The vampire didn’t have breath left to articulate that; except he was sure that the engineer must have come to the same conclusion.

Tony was also very aware of Stephen's stubbornness regarding Tony’s health.

“..home…” Stephen managed to get out.

There were plenty of blood bags in the fridge. His hand moved to his belt, where his Slingring was normally stored – and he touched right into a deep wound.

The Vamp hissed in pain and Tony saw the blood running down shaking fingers. Stephen knew he barely had the strength to move, much less to open a portal.

His senses grew stronger as he became more aware of possible food sources around them. Surprisingly, he also got calmer. Or maybe his body just got ready to attack at the earliest convenience.

Suddenly he was glad he was too weak to move a lot.

Tony was kneeling behind him, to support his back and stop him from toppling over; his mind running a million thoughts and calculating all options.

If not from him, Stephen could drink blood from someone else. Tony surely could find someone in this city, even though the area was evacuated. He would knock them out personally if necessary.

Stephen would never drink without consent. And animal blood wasn’t sufficient for this situation; it had to be human blood. Or at least humanoid.

A hospital!

They had blood bags in stock. Even though marching in and demanding them would raise questions. Tony would have to be careful not to reveal Stephen's nature.

On the other hand, if he waited too long, Stephen's nature would reveal on its own; when he went feral to get what his body needed.

Suddenly his trail of thoughts was interrupted by another voice.

“What’s your status?”

Rogers was jogging over to them. Maybe he had smelled the lots of blood Stephen was losing. Or he got called on the scene because Tony had ignored his comm for the past however many minutes – right after he had screamed for Stephen.

The sorcerer was trying to make his bleeding, lanky body smaller and shielded away from the Avenger. Showing his vampire features to Captain America – a very famous vampire hunter – would start a whole other kind of mess.

Tony helped him by subtly moving his armored body between them. “The wizard is out,” he explained dismissively. “I have to get him home immediately.”

This wasn’t really his plan; they were too far from New York and Stephen too weak. It was a good enough excuse though. And it gave Tony an idea: if Stephen wore the armor it would – hopefully – protect him; and those around him. It would leave Tony vulnerable in the still ongoing fight, but he would manage.

He glanced to the side where Rogers was still standing, analyzing Stephen's condition. Tony opened his mouth to throw a quip at him, but Steve beat him to it.

“What if he takes my blood?”

“What?” Tony stared at him. He was sure he misheard. Even Stephen stilled in his arms.

Rogers tilted his head. “If your werewolf blood is fine, mine should be as well.” At Tony's distrustful look, he adds, “You forget I’ve got super hearing. And the tells were rather obvious. Now,” he took the last steps towards them slowly, as if he was approaching a wild animal. “I believe we don’t have much time. I give him my permission to take the blood I can spare.”

Tony’s posture became defensive. It was subconscious, his mind still screaming: protect mate!

“Why?” he asked.

“We are a team, Tony”, Rogers said as if that were a very obvious reason. It probably was – under normal circumstances. Then Rogers spoke to Stephen directly. “And you are still Doctor Stephen Strange, even if you’re a vampire.”

Tony was still hesitant, and that said a lot about his experience with people he had trusted and who had then stabbed him in the back. Some even literally.

But then he felt Stephen weakly nudging him and he turned his attention back to the sorcerer. Stephen needed blood now; they would do the talking later. He weakly beckoned Steve to come closer.

The ground shook again, however, nothing broke through it - for now.

Rogers put his finger to his ear and spoke over the comm to the team. “We need some brief cover. South side.”

Stephen didn’t see who else moved in their direction; his focus was on the Avenger in front of him. Tony stayed with him and Stephen trusted him – as well as Rogers – to stop him should he take too much.

Rogers crouched down as well and looked at them, unsure. “So, how do we do this?”

“Your wrist.” Tony nodded towards it.

Rogers pulled the tight sleeve of his suit up and held it out to the vampire. If he had any second thoughts, he masked them well.

Stephen’s trembling hands wrapped around the warm skin. He felt life pulsing in the veins, a lot of it. Water pooled in his mouth; or perhaps it was blood. He wasn’t sure.

Instead of feasting on his meal immediately, he looked up at Rogers, his red eyes asking for permission. Steve granted it – again; this time with a simple nod.

Stephen bared his teeth and pierced the skin with them. On impact, a sound escaped Rogers, rather surprised than in pain – in fact it didn’t hurt more than a needle prick. And then the pain was completely gone. Everything was fine. Maybe he even was a bit too calm about the situation; the vampire drinking from him and the fight around them.

He had heard about a vampire’s thrall – but he still felt in control. A bit light-headed, sure. But not alarmingly so.

Roger’s eyes met Tony’s, who watched him with alert eyes.

After a while, Stephen let go of him and leaned back. He looked instantly better. He was still bleeding but he no longer made that gurgling sound with every breath. His wounds also seemed to be slowly closing. Or at least the bleeding had stopped.

He moved to stand up, but Tony held him back, gently.

“Take it easy.”

And Rogers added, “We got you, doctor.”

Bonus:

“What did he taste like?” Tony asked way too casual and out of context.

Stephen didn't have to ask who he meant. There weren't many people he had drunk directly from recently. "Artificial. Like a snack with a weird combination of flavors.” Looking at the Were he found him way too smug about his answer. “Are you jealous?”

Tony shrugged, ducking his head. It was a tell; he couldn't fool Stephen. “It was just weird seeing you drinking from someone else. It’s an intimate thing. At least it always feels this way for me.”

Because every time Stephen drank from the Were it almost exclusively led to sex.

Stephen pulled him into his arms. “Only because we make it intimate.” He kissed his temples. “What you and I have is special, Tony.”

Tony left it at that, but the scent of a very happy Were invaded Stephen's nose.

[rjalker]

[ID: a long 6-panel MS Paint comic, titled, "I read Charles Howard Hinton's An Episode of Flatland (dot dot dot) so you don't have to! (It's bad!)".

Panel 1 is labeled, "not even pretending to be to scale", and shows a circle in the center labeled "Astria", with the edge covered in stick figures who have both arms on one side of their body, either facing the west for females, or east for males, with a mars or venus symbol over each head to show who is what. The west side of Astria has a darker rim labeled, "Black Sea", and the east has one labeled "White Sea".

On the side of the panel is a cirlce mostly offscreen labeled, "Ardaea, another planet in their star system".

In the lower corner a larger circle labeled, "sun that either doesn't have a name or I forgot it. I have a headache I'm not putting in any more effort to find out if the sun has a name".

Panel 2 shows two sets of people represented by right triangles, with males facing east and females facing west again, with their back to eachother. First we have Unæans, who are light skinned. They are represented by white triangles. Then there are Scythians, who are dark skinned, represented by triangles filled in with black with a crayon texture. Smaller text reads for them, "used to oppress the Unæans because the author's racist".

Text reads, "Astrians are not literally triangles but are represented by them to show how they face only one direction. Despite only having one single eye each, the original illustrator drew them with two, one on each side. Because he didn't read the book I guess. I don't blame him. Unless it was the author, in which case…Man, seriously?".

Panel 3 shows a 2D stick figure looking to the west and saying, "Blank space!". A yellow splat in the middle of the screen reads in all caps, "Wrong!", then shows the stick figure being viewed from another angle so they, and their dialogue box, appear as nothing but a straight line against a light blue background, with a section of white on their Left labeled, "the alongside being - aka their name for any dimension beyond the perception of a lower-dimensional being".

Panel 4 reads in all caps large text at the top, "but what is the plot?!?!", then reads:

"The plot is that every 15 years winters get really cold and bad. But this time it's gonna be the end of the world. Because Ardaea is apparently gonna crash into Astria entirely. And is gonna plunge their planet into Death Winter. A rich guy named Cartwright starts building underground shelters packed with supplies to try and help people survive.

His brother is a guy named High Farmer and he believes in the 3rd Dimension and claims to be able to use it somehow to make himself float and all this crap which he literally never demonstrates.

Hugh teams up with a soldier named Harold Wall to try and convince people that the Third Dimension will somehow magically save them all. And you might be thinking, 'Oh! Because they're gonna ask for help from 3D beings, right?' Wrong.

No the plan is to literally create a dictatorship and force everyoen to pray that Ardaea doesn't crash into them.

And then this works. For some reason.

Despite none of Hugh Farmer's claims about being able to use T 3 D to fly ever being demonstrated. And then they're all talking about being able to use T 3 D to grow…extra eyes? And all this crap??? It's not reasonable.

And while all this is very much not going on, there's a crappy romance between Laura Cartwright, the daughter of the rich guy who was building shelters, and Harold Wall, the now-Dictator. She's the one who introduced him to Hugh Farmer, her uncle.

It's implied many times that they're soulmates. They miscommunicate a lot and also Harold is an asshole anyways.

Also early in the book there was a lady named Mrs. Castle who was implied to be a 3D being or at least friends with one. We were told we'd get this explained soon. Then she was never mentioned again.

But then the author was going on about 2D beings having 3D souls so that's. Apparently what he meant. He was a really bad writer."

Panel 5 is black with white text, reading:

"It was so boring and convoluted it was literally making me fall asleep.

So the moral of the story is set up a dictatorship to make people pray the world doesn't end and it simply won't. Because your soul is a tiny 4D thing piloting the mecha of your giant 3D body. also if you think about it really hard you can probably grow yourself an extra eye or something. Somehow. For some reason.

It's bad. 0/10 do not recommend."

Panel 6 is white with black text again, reading, "also literally every scene in the book after the Introduction is just physically impossible for these people to be doing with the rules he told us into the introduction. it's atrocious."

End ID.]

fortunately, it's public domain, so it's free to read, and you can rewrite it to not be absolutely terrible and mind-numbing and sell your version. the version we deserve.

[blasphemecel]

Oikawa Tooru — Jersey #2

PAIRING: Oikawa Tooru/Reader WORD COUNT: 6k TYPE: Angst, Fluff, Humor, Rivalry, Emotional Constipation (we laffed and we smiled and we crode) WARNING(S): Injury, There are no specified pronouns or identity for reader, but they are on the shiratorizawa boys volleyball team for plot reasons.

There are several truths in life.

The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. The Earth orbits around it by spinning on its axis. Oikawa Tooru hates geniuses.

He hates Shiratorizawa, hates all natural talent, hates Ushijima Wakatoshi, and hates everything he represents. It's kind of his drive, the loathing, but really, he just wants to be something. And people like Ushijima and Tobio just seem to wall him.

His time as a first year student in Aobajousai is fine. He has his admirers, and Iwaizumi still slaps him on the neck when he pisses him off, and that guy Hanamaki punches him on the shoulder and calls him a heartthrob in a sarcastic tone when girls come around to watch them practice after school.

Sure, his upperclassman is still the regular setter, but that's normal. Maybe if he puts in some extra thirty minutes every afternoon, things will be different.

When it comes to sports, Shiratorizawa is inevitable. They're always going places, be it the junior teams or the high schoolers. Like when Ushijima washed them when they were in Kitagawa Daiichi. It's a school that upholds individual talent and prestige, so Oikawa goes to Aobajousai and it's fine.

They arrange a practice match against them two weeks after the season starts. None of the first years from Aobajousai make it on the line-up, and Oikawa's sitting on the bench next to Iwaizumi, and he heaves a theatrical sigh. "Only watching is so boring. I hate this."

"Quit whining," says Iwaizumi.

"But it's not fair, Iwa-chan! Look, they're all first years on the other side. Is Shiratorizawa bragging or something?"

Ushijima looks like a big lumbering idiot as usual, Oikawa thinks, but he's not even going to acknowledge his presence. Yeah, that'll show him.

"I've heard most of their players don't even get to, well, play," Iwaizumi says. "Maybe they're trying to scout 'em out." Coach Washijo does have a reputation for being high maintenance.

"So they are flexing," Oikawa cries.

Iwaizumi punches him on the shoulder. "I said stop whining."

It is not Ushijima who gets the first serve. Instead you stand there, and you look like you don't know what the hell is going on, but when the whistle blows, you jump high and smack the ball straight to the nationals. Their libero doesn't even twitch to touch it — hadn't expected it — and you score the first point, even though someone receives your second one.

Oikawa's immediate thought is to wonder if his serve is this powerful. And if it isn't, how much practice he needed to make it so.

His gaze stays on you after that, and it comes to his attention that you barely know the rules of the game. You're all sharp reflexes and raw power and high jumps, but the only time you make correct plays outside of serving is when the guy with the weird hair tells you where to block.

It has become apparent to everyone else, too, and most of the wing spikers target you since you're bad at receiving. Float services fuck people over all the time, too, and the guy in front of you fumbles when the ball changes trajectory at the last second. You extend your leg and kick it to the other side of the court with something like amusement in your eyes and that's another point.

Aobajousai takes the game, but it doesn't matter because Oikawa is wondering what that was. All of it. So he stays up late that night searching up Tendou Satori and Semi Eita and [L/n] [Y/n] on Facebook like a man starved for attention, looking for a victim to torment with the poke function.

He doesn't infer much about this Tendou fellow except that he had a bowl cut until not long ago. And Semi Eita seems to think being mysterious is cool because his wall is empty except for the strange messages Tendou has written on his board and occasional birthday wishes.

You're not discrete like them, but maybe you have no reason to be. Photo after photo after photo of you posing with trophies — first place, almost always — with this stupid, guileless smile on your face, but it's all for soccer.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you in the volleyball club now?

It's not like Oikawa's never won an award. He just acts like it.

Then... Then, he realizes, ah. You're one of those people he hates.

___

This is their first time at the Inter High as high schoolers. It's prime time to get bullied by Shiratorizawa for anyone unfortunate enough to play against their team. In the corridors, after Aobajosai's first win, Oikawa doesn't mean to eavesdrop, not really.

"Man, we got our asses handed to us," whines some guy to another teammate of his and a boy who's probably the manager, judging by his attire. "Shiratorizawa's totally unfair."

"I thought we'd have an easier time if we targeted number twelve because Ushiwaka is too overpowered-"

"Overpowered?"

"-but that kid's got demonic spikes, too."

"Number twelve is a meathead and if you guys worked harder, we wouldn't have been humiliated like this," says the manager before he lets out a yawn.

"Oh, shut it!"

"That asshole's asking for a shattered wrist hitting the ball that hard every time."

"Oh, so your spikes suck 'cause you're concerned for your safety? How convenient."

Number twelve, the other wing spiker. So you're a regular, huh?

It's stupid, anyway. No one can win against Ushijima by ignoring him.

No one can win against Ushijima, but that kind of goes unspoken.

___

He bumps into you and deems it rational to assert himself. "We're gonna win, you know?"

You turn around to face him and you appear confused. "Who are you?"

Oikawa's eye twitches but his lips curl up in a phony smile, anyway. "Oikawa Tooru," he says. "From Aobajousai."

He watches the way you squint at him until recognition flashes across your face. "Oh, you're that guy."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ushiwaka has his eyes on you."

He fakes a shudder. "And that's totally not a creepy thing to say."

You shrug and pivot on your heel to leave since your teammates are probably waiting for you inside the bus already, but for some reason he can't quite explain, Oikawa blurts out,

"You play soccer."

"Used to, yeah," you say. "You a fan? I'm planning on starting tennis in university." Then you rummage through your pockets until you pull out a marker and aim it threateningly at his forehead like you're about to autograph him.

"What? No! Not my beautiful face!" Oikawa shields himself with his forearms and once you appear to have stopped moving, he deems it safe enough to expose himself again. He thinks about how every word you said during the last minute pissed him off. Who the hell switches sports for every academic establishment they enter? "Tell Ushiwaka to mind his business."

You smile. "Sure, I'll let him know."

"... Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be serious?" You pull out your phone and dial someone, and he flails his hands around as he wonders once again what the fuck is wrong with you, but you're adept at ignoring his urgent gestures. "Hi, Ushijima. No, I didn't get lost, it was just a tough shit to squeeze out. Yeah, yeah, tell Coach I'm coming in a bit. Listen, some Oikawa Tooru said you should mind your business. Ah, okay, I'll let him know."

When the call is over, you tell him,

"He said you should've come to Shiratorizawa."

Oikawa clenches his fist and chokes, "Ack." Then he sticks his tongue out at you. "Whatever. Hmph."

You seem to find some amusement in his theatrics.

___

Before the match when everyone's doing their warm-ups, a hard smack echoes across the gym when a stray ball whizzes past Oikawa's head while he's setting before it bounces off. For a second he thinks Iwaizumi has finally decided to assassinate him, but then he glances towards Shiratorizawa's side only to see you panicking with wide eyes and frantic waves of your hands. You rub your head, still grimacing. "I'm so sorry!"

"You blockhead! What's the point if the ball makes it out of bounds?! That's ten extra laps next practice," Coach Washijo reprimands, shaking his fist in the air while you shriek and duck away from him before you skid to the other corner of the room.

Oikawa stares while Tendou points and laughs at you. Did you do that on purpose? Are you picking a fight? It didn't seem that way, but the thought of a Shiratorizawa member being endearing to him makes Oikawa sick.

___

He can't help it; Oikawa is always looking at different spikers and thinking about how he'd utilize them. Even on opposing teams and even about Ushijima once or twice, but it's more of an ego thing. He likes the idea of everyone reaching their full potential when he's pulling the strings.

Unlike Semi Eita during the practice match, Shiratorizawa's regular third-year setter doesn't toss to you or anyone else much at all. Not that it stops Ushijima from stomping all over them throughout the first set — like usual, really, since Oikawa and Iwaizumi are the only ones who can even attempt receiving those left-handed spikes — but Shiratorizawa has all these tall heavy-hitters, and only one of them gets to shine.

You're the kind of useful idiot who's running all across the court to make sure Ushijima has enough energy to spare for all five potential sets. And you don't stop or think because with people like you, of natural talent and ability, flinging yourself at the ball wherever it goes is about enough.

Up front, he gets to face you head-on and it's better because it doesn't seem as impossible. Again, taking notes is something he does almost unconsciously, even if only to help him read the game better. He likes to think he knows he's good enough of a setter to hone a sense for these things. The two third-years rush to attempt to wall Ushijima, but from the toss, the only person who spikes that high, from that position, is...

When Oikawa blocks you, it feels like you're trying to break his arms. His hands sting, but it doesn't matter because the ball makes it back to your side of the court, and the pain doesn't matter either because he's endured worse just to make this happen.

He lets out a dramatic ouch before he flicks his fingers and your mouth parts open in surprise. Do you have to be so shocked that he managed to stop you. How conceited-

"Woah, that's awesome," you say, looking at him through the net.

"Eh?"

You point at your teammate. "You read his ass!"

He blinks. Once more, "Eh?!"

Begrudgingly, days after that stupid, familiar, devastating feeling of losing a match right at the finals, Oikawa admits to himself he finds it a shame that someone like you has to play second fiddle to Ushijima. But maybe he just hates him and hates you a little less.

___

"Could you stop staring at their number twelve like a pervert all the time?" asks Iwaizumi. Casually.

It's another practice match. Tendou Satori tells you something while you're holding your water bottle, then you squeeze it and water squirts straight into your eye. Tendou all but dies laughing until Semi Eita smacks him on the neck and scolds him, though it hardly seems to phase him.

He's not ogling you or anything. You look stupid, is all.

"Wh- I never did such a thing! Stop being trashy."

"Says Trashykawa."

Oikawa pretends to flip his fringe. "You don't have to be jealous."

With his usual pout on his face, Iwaizumi looks a touch more incredulous than usual when he raises his eyebrows. "Jealous?"

"I understand you want my attention all the time." He grabs Iwaizumi by the shoulder and sighs like this is some kind of Shakespearean play. "But you don't need to act out-"

Just before Iwaizumi is about to call him a dumbass, which is his usual repertoire when it comes to insulting him, Mattsun and Makki join the conversation with intentions of ruining Oikawa's day. Apparently they'd overheard all that. Hanamaki whistles and says, "Fraternizing with the enemy, aren't we?"

"No fraternizing is going on," Matsukawa says with a shit-eating grin. "I think that's the kinda thing that's supposed to go both ways."

"Ooh, savage," supplies Makki with a snicker. Jerk. It's not funny.

"Like I'd want [L/n]'s Shiratorizawa cooties." Oikawa crosses his arms, and he means it in full seriousness when he says this.

"Shiratorizawa cooties," repeats Iwaizumi, like he's trying to get him to understand how ridiculous he sounds. "Why are you an overgrown baby?"

"Besides, I didn't even know that person's name, but you do," Matsukawa adds.

"Wah! Stop ganging up on me!" Oikawa covers his ears and Iwaizumi gestures towards him with a shake of his head as if to say, 'See, an overgrown baby,' and Matsukawa and Hanamaki nod as if to answer, 'Yeah, an overgrown baby.' "You big bullies, I'm telling!"

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

"Telling?" Hanamaki asks. "Are you twelve?"

___

Oikawa never had any expectations to see you outside of a court, much less at this time of night. He's a few steps away from school when you appear into view, running, and then you halt when you notice him. At least you're as quick to recognize him as he is to you, so Matsukawa could eat that.

He's not sure if greeting you would be appropriate. It'd be cordial, yes, but you're on opposing teams and he's kind of notorious for being unable to stand your ace. Not like you leave him any time to think about his decision because you make your way in front of him. "Why are you out so late?"

"You are, too!" he says, though he doesn't have much reason to sound annoyed.

"I was out on a jog."

"All the way out here? Are you stalking me? Are you a fan?" he taunts, even though it's obvious you've crossed paths with him by accident.

The cleverness of him throwing back your words at you seems to escape you, and if it doesn't you don't care enough to acknowledge it or be impressed. "You're still wearing your uniform," you say. "Were you practicing 'till now?"

Oikawa doesn't see how that's any of your business. "Observant, aren't we?"

"Not really," you say with an impish grin. "I'm pretty dull."

You seem like such a happy person, but he figures it must be easy when you're on the side that wins all the time and when you've made it onto the list of most promising rookies despite playing for less than a year. Not that Oikawa's name isn't there, but this is different.

"What do you want?"

"I'm curious about you."

He's a bit dumbfounded by that.

"You talked to me at the Inter Highs before."

"So?"

"So," you say. "That means you're curious about me too, right?"

"No, I'm not. You're projecting," he whines and his tone is all defensive. "I'm going now," he finishes lamely.

"Bye-bye. Take it easy, alright?"

Like you're one to talk. You make some of the most exaggerated movements he's ever seen and put too much force in both your spikes and your serves and it's probably not even a big deal. Your concern pisses him off.

___

Oikawa makes it to second year without ever going to nationals. But it's fine, they'll get two more chances to try, or at least that's what he settles on telling himself. Another year means another practice match, and another, and another, and what that means is more chances to see Ushijima's annoying mug. He scoffs when Iwaizumi tells him to behave.

"I'm not your dog, Iwa-chan, you brute," he pretends to cry.

"Please spare me the embarrassment."

There are some changes, of course. High school teams rarely resemble what they used to be by the time another season rolls around. He watches you hound some newbie along with Tendou during break. The number on the back of your shirt now reads seven instead of twelve. You push yourself up and down the bench with your leg while Tendou is having the time of his life bothering whoever this guy is.

"You can't seriously be doing homework right now, Shirabu," you say.

"Not all of us can stay in this school with a sports scholarship," he says as his pen flits across whatever exercise sheet he's filling out even faster than before, maybe just to spite you.

"You're such a nerd." Tendou covers his mouth to laugh.

"You're a smartypants," you add, and then you high five each other, much to Shirabu's chagrin.

"Oh, you thought you did something," he says before he throws his pen at you, or at least he tries to, but you catch it before it can poke you in the eye. That's some killer aim, you think.

"A souvenir! From our precious underclassman!" Tendou exclaims before he comes closer to examine it like it's a mystical artifact. "Lucky."

"Hey, actually, can you give it back?" asks Shirabu, flustered, and it doesn't suit the stern expression he's trying to pull off at all. "I don't have anything else to write with."

This isn't at all riveting. Oikawa doesn't know why he's always observing.

___

Oikawa hatefully watches Semi set for Ushijima across the field even though what they're doing is innocuous. Everyone else went back already, but he finds himself sitting on his ass in the middle of Shiratorizawa's open yard, taking dramatic sips of water here and there, maybe waiting for someone to notice his sulking. What his reasons for staying are, even he doesn't know. Perhaps he's waiting to discover Ushijima's secret weakness.

He was tossing to you before this, actually, just to see what it was like, but then you started kicking the ball around, not letting it touch the ground. His gaze flickers back to you, and he thinks you're an asshole because you've been at this for longer than ten minutes.

"Do you like my moves?" you ask, once you notice his attention is back on you.

Oikawa considers it. "No," he says, then drinks some more water for emphasis. "Why'd you quit soccer?"

"Wanted to try something new," you say. "Why do you care so much about me playing soccer?"

"Doesn't it piss you off being in Ushijima's shadow? You seem like such an attention hog on the court."

He bursts out laughing when your legs tangle and you almost lose your balance and trip over nothing. Though you're still on your feet, somehow, the ball falls down and rolls away. "Ushijima is," you start, like nothing happened, and Oikawa laughs at you some more, "the best." And then he stops laughing.

"I'm sure he is," he settles on, but makes sure his tone is sarcastic enough so that you know he disagrees.

"I love it."

He pouts. "You love it?"

"Yeah," you say. "I like to compete with him. He doesn't take me seriously, though. It was so boring in soccer. I was the best player in the prefecture junior leagues."

Oikawa's eye twitches.

"I know you hate Ushijima."

"And? Everyone knows that," he says, not unlike a petulant child.

"You don't need to get so wrung up over some losses."

Oh yeah? That's easy for you to say, he thinks with a scowl, before he figures it must be a good time to leave.

___

Semi is a much more competent setter than the old one, but Oikawa can't say that brings him any comfort, exactly. When they lose finals again, he can only see Ushijima staring at him with the same distanced look on his face. Like it's natural, like it's not a big deal.

You got six service ace points overall and goaded about it until Ushijima outdid you. Tendou told you to take your sausage party to the locker rooms before going out to celebrate later, and Oikawa had to listen to you argue with him about whether he's a twink or not on the way out of the gymnasium.

You're... competing with Ushijima in your own way, just like he is, aren't you?

___

Oikawa can't say Iwaizumi didn't warn him. Even wrestled and dragged him out of the gym a few times, but that's beside the point. He trained harder because it was obvious there was something he was lacking. Overcompensating. Still, he has an injured knee now, and he's going to be out of commission for a few weeks.

There is nothing he hates more than sitting back on the bench and watching a practice match. Too lost in thought, he almost bumps into you on the way up the stairs, and when he snaps out of his trance, he sees your hand is hovering in front of him. Then his focus adjusts completely and he sees the seven on your shirt is now a two.

He looks at you like you're an alien.

"Heard your leg got fucked up," you elaborate, though you don't see why offering help is something that needs an explanation.

For a second his face seems blank, until he reaches out to wrap his fingers around yours and announces, "Sure. I love getting treated like a prince."

You tilt your head because you really do not understand his character sometimes, but then you smile as usual. "Like a prince? Just for this? You're so silly."

"Hey! Are you laughing at me right now? I dare you to tell me you're laughing at me."

You help him up nonetheless, and Mattsun and Makki make scandalized expressions at him in the background just to be annoying.

___

"What are you doing here?" asks Oikawa in an accusatory voice like he just exposed you for doing something incriminating.

Like it isn't obvious what you're doing.

"Uh," you gesture at Minako, who's holding onto your sleeve and who Oikawa knows because she's friends with Takeru, mind you, "walking my cousin to volleyball practice?"

Minako cranes her neck to look up at you and asks, "So you know the creepy man?" while pointing at Oikawa.

"Hey!" Oikawa protests.

At the same time, Takeru snickers and says, "Is this your dumb older cousin, Minako?"

"Hey," you protest, too, looking the tiniest bit embarrassed for what feels like the first time.

"Yeah!" She beams at him in confirmation, which isn't really helping your case. "I'm gonna be even better than [Y/n] at volleyball, believe it."

"Sure, Naruto," you say with a roll of your eyes.

Oikawa is pretty eager to pretend the toddlers didn't just have a roast session on both of your asses, so moving swiftly on, he squints and asks, "How come I've never seen you around?"

Minako and Takeru rush to greet Coach Ukai, who they find cooler than you and him combined.

"I don't really hang around."

He rubs his chin as if you're suspicious. "Then what do you do?"

"Go to the gym or go for a jog. Come back. Pick her up." Then you raise your eyebrows, wondering why he's acting like you just committed a crime. "What do you do?"

"Take photos, duh," he says in his usual snotty tone.

For some reason, you struggle when trying to picture him doing that, but you lower your eyelids before your lips quirk up in something more teasing than usual. "Well, aren't you sentimental," you say and adjust the strap of your gym bag around your shoulder. "Sure, you know what? I can watch, too."

Your thigh is pressing against his on the bench. Affection feels bitter in Oikawa's stomach, and so, he asks, "How were nationals last year?" even though he knows full well Shiratorizawa didn't win. Not that you'd care, anyhow.

"Not bad," you say, then you smirk and glance at him from the corner of your eye. "Same old, same old."

He frowns and huffs.

"You took a dig at me first."

"Yeah, but gallows humor is only funny when you're in the gallows, you know?" Oikawa punches you on the shoulder with a cry.

"Maybe," you allow. "Your team's good. I think we played worse guys there once or twice."

"That doesn't make me feel any better, in case you're wondering."

"Sometimes," you fiddle with the drawstrings on your shorts, "when Coach puts me out, and I'm looking at the game from the sidelines, I kinda root for you instead."

At this, Oikawa punches you on the shoulder even harder, then whines some more. "I don't need your dumb pity either."

You've got a charming smile and he really, really hates that about you. Among other things.

___

It doesn't stop Shiratorizawa from winning Inter Highs again, but Oikawa thinks they were in their prime last year, with Semi as the setter. Not that Shirabu is bad — he's not — but it's like he's always shielding himself behind Ushijima. So it makes their loss feel all the more despairing.

Oikawa really doesn't need your dumb pity. You talk with him every week when Minako and Takeru go to Lil' Tykes, so what? That doesn't mean he hates you any less for always winning, or for jumping higher than him, or for being more flexible, or for hitting harder serves, or for having a stronger block.

So why you're trying to hug him right now is beyond him.

"Away with you." He waves his hand to shoo you and backs away with this grimace on his face that almost convinces you you're diseased. "You're all sweaty and gross."

"Be nice," chides Iwaizumi before he slaps him on the back of his head with a towel and disappears down the hall. He's probably hurrying to cry in the locker rooms. Not that Oikawa doesn't do it, too.

"A girl from cheer told me she likes it when I get all sweaty after a game."

Oikawa covers his mouth in abject horror and disgust. "Ew?"

"What? I'm sure someone thinks that about you too."

"You're appalling," he says in the most distressed voice he can muster, ducking out of the way again once you attempt to go for a second embrace.

___

There are several ways something can go wrong. Actually, Oikawa isn't ready for things to go so wrong this soon.

You're going down the stairs to leave the building after your win, Tendou and Semi trailing behind you. Oikawa is going up the stairs to look for Hanamaki, who had disappeared to god knows where. He didn't cry in the locker rooms, so it was possible he chose the toilet as his brooding spot. Or maybe if he's feeling cinematic, he could be on the rooftop. Though that isn't really his style.

You reach out to give him a high-five in passing and he's reluctant to return the gesture.

Oikawa doesn't quite see how it happens.

Maybe you slipped? All he knows is that you lose your footing and barrel down seven sets of stairs mid-step, landing straight on your left leg, and then stumble onto the other one. Oikawa and Tendou both reach out their hands like they're trying to catch you, but you already fell.

You jostle a little where you stand, but it doesn't occur to you that something might be wrong after the initial flinch. If any noise came out, the impact must've drowned it out.

"Shit, are you okay?" Semi asks, hurrying down.

"I'm cool," you say, then you take a step forward, and sharp, searing pain shoots up your leg. Immediately, you fall down to your knees and start sobbing like you can't bear it.

Tendou joins to help you up and they support you with their shoulders on the way to the nurse. Not that she could do much to help with that, probably. Oikawa gawps at the spot long after everything has passed like he's in a stupor.

But it's going to be fine, right? You're one of the most physically resilient people he has ever met. Surely he's overreacting.

___

You feel kind of stupid laying down in a hospital room with a cast on your leg. Like when something of exaggerated destructive force happens in a cartoon and then two characters who hate each other have to occupy adjacent beds. Actually, you feel kind of stupid all the time, so maybe this isn't that different.

Tendou visits you a day after your surgery. Almost like he's mad at you, he throws something and you catch it before it can smack you in the face. "You've got an admirer. Which, fuck you, by the way."

"Oh, is it from Yui?" You wiggle your eyebrows since you know this will piss him off. The two of you have been having this debate for half a year.

"No!" Tendou says, giving you the stink-eye. "And you keep your grubby paws away from her. If you scare her away like Saeko-chan, we'll never get a cute manager to pass us bottles before we graduate."

Yui is the latest candidate for the manager position. The last one, Saeko, tucked in tail after the first half of her trial week, though you think it was unlikely Coach Washijo would approve her application. He's always nit-picking.

"You freaked her out by showing her your Goku voodoo doll. I didn't do anything."

"No, you scared her away by showing her the rotten sandwich in your locker," Tendou argues before he pulls the chair backwards and sits on it with his arms crossed. You laugh when you remember the incident. She looked kind of confused when you first told her to 'come smell the sandwich,' but you're pretty sure she ended up thinking it was funny. Maybe. "Anyway, that's from Oikawa."

"Yeah, I can... tell," you say, examining the envelope. Not that you're the guess monster between the two of you, but it's pretty obvious since it's labeled 'From: Oikawa Tooru ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*' on the front.

He sighs and slouches almost all the way down his chair. "I wish Iwaizumi would dote on me."

"You've got a thing for aces?"

"What'd he get you?"

"Chocolates," you say. You're not sure if you're allowed to eat that. You certainly didn't when you were on an eating regime for sports, but that's not relevant right now. 'Get better soon (╯3╰)' was written on the inside, so he hadn't even bothered to get a piece of paper. It's pretty shoddy, all things considered.

But you appreciate the gesture... Kinda.

"He came during practice looking for you and I was on the way, so." He shrugs. "Anyway, how's it lookin'? When are you coming back? The old man was bugging me about it."

"Oh," you say with a wry smile. "I'm finished, I'm afraid."

Seeing genuine surprise on Tendou's face, of all people, is rather rare. Maybe you would've eviscerated your ankle earlier if you knew. He sits straight up again to stare at you. "Wait, huh?"

You stare back at him.

"That's really not funny," he says with a forced laugh before he pats you on the shoulder. "You're always such a jokester. Now tell me, really, when's it gonna heal?"

"They said 'cause I was already under a lot of strain before it happened, it probably won't go back to the way it used to be. So."

Tendou isn't really sure what to do. He's not good at these kinds of things.

"Would it make you feel better if I drew a dick on your cast?"

"I mean, shit. Maybe you should write me a Hail Mary, too."

With a salute, he promises, "On it."

___

Oikawa sees you for the first time again after a little over a month following what happened. You're about to leave with Minako and he hadn't noticed before because you were sitting next to him on the bench, but he can see it in the way you walk.

It's not like it's hard for him to make observations. You're easily the most dynamic person in Shiratorizawa alongside maybe Tendou, while the rest of them are stiff. Quick on your feet, what-have-you.

Your limping isn't as bad as he expected it to be considering apparently they took off your cast not too long ago, but his gaze lingers on the way you're slightly dragging your foot across the pavement.

Minako pulls on your fingers and yells out your name.

"Hm?"

"Can you carry me?"

"Sorry," you say. They told you to lay off the weights, and you're already carrying both of your bags. "Can't."

"You suck!"

You laugh at her and flick her forehead.

"Uh," Oikawa starts. He thinks about the time he had a sprain and you helped him up the stairs, and he wants to offer to do the same, but the words don't wretch their way out of his throat. Besides, he has to get Takeru home, and... "See you around."

At finals, preferably.

"See ya." You give him a peace sign.

"What was that?" asks Takeru in a judgemental tone. "Lame."

___

There are several ways something can go wrong in life. It always has to be all ironic and shit.

This isn't how this was supposed to go.

You're sitting on the steps outside, hunched over with a fizzy drink in hand. Oikawa plops down next to you and he can recognize the Shiratorizawa uniform shorts anywhere, but you're wearing a random shirt and some tracksuit along with it. "Isn't it a bit cold to be sitting out here like this?"

"Whatever," you say, eyes flitting over to him. "The fuck are you dressed like a journalist for?"

"Gah! Don't be mean, I couldn't find my contacts in the morning," Oikawa cries before he adjusts his glasses.

You always seemed like such a happy person, smiley and cheery and air-headed.

"Why weren't you on the bench?" he asks when you don't follow up with anything.

"I guess you wouldn't know," you say. "I got kicked out of the team a few weeks ago."

This isn't how the finals were supposed to go — it should've been you and him playing inside, and then Shiratorizawa would've lost, and Ushijima would've bowed down to him, and you would've put your head in your hands and said, 'Oh, damn!' or something.

He traces your leg with his eyes and stops when he sees the way your knee cap juts out way more than it did before. "I'm sorry about your... injury," he says, because there really isn't much else to make of this.

You purse your lips and shrug. It goes without saying that you've lost, well, everything. Your biggest hope of getting into university was the stupid sports scholarship, and Oikawa has overheard those morons Tendou and Semi tease you for your abysmal grades more than enough.

"I think I'll try chess next," you joke and your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"You'd probably be good at it. Maybe Shiratorizawa would have won if you were there," he concedes. He doesn't have any preferences on who wins between the two pains in his ass, so speculating isn't any more miserable than the current reality.

"Probably not." You pick your ear. "I really hate how Shirabu sets."

"Semi's better than him," agrees Oikawa in a mild tone, and you take another sip of whatever crap you're drinking.

Oikawa isn't half as cruel as he likes to believe he is. He thought — had really, really hoped in a way that's selfish and naive — if this were to happen, he would've felt vindicated. To see someone with an advantage over him get punished for it. But it did and he doesn't, and he thinks if it was Ushiwaka instead of you, he wouldn't have been content with it either.

You're just some dumb kids with dreams, after all. Be it your stupid desire to conquer every sport you can get your hands on or his desperation to make it to nationals at least once, to prove himself.

And really, Oikawa isn't as wronged by fate as he makes it out to be, either. He can still go for it.

You can't.

___

I got my leg fucked the same way reader does in this fic, broke both of them actually, and while one of them is fine, the other one that took the brunt of the it never healed properly lmao

[xtruss]

Displaced Palestinian children wait to receive food in Rafah, Gaza, on February 9, 2024. Photograph: Abed Rahim Khatib/Anadolu via Getty Images

I’m An American Doctor Who Went To Gaza. What I Saw Wasn’t War — It Was Annihilation

— February 16, 2024 | By Irfan Galaria | Los Angeles Times

late January, I left my home in Virginia, where I work as a plastic and reconstructive surgeon and joined a group of Physicians and Nurses traveling to Egypt with the humanitarian aid group MedGlobal to Volunteer in Gaza.

I have worked in other war zones. But what I witnessed during the next 10 days in Gaza was not war — it was annihilation. At least 28,000 Palestinians have been killed in Israel’s bombardment of Gaza. From Cairo, Egypt’s capital, we drove 12 hours east to the Rafah border. We passed miles of parked humanitarian aid trucks because they weren’t allowed into Gaza. Aside from my team and other envoy members from the United Nations and World Health Organization, there were very few others there.

Entering southern Gaza on Jan. 29, where many have fled from the north, felt like the first pages of a dystopian novel. Our ears were numb with the constant humming of what I was told were the surveillance drones that circled constantly. Our noses were consumed with the stench of 1 million displaced humans living in close proximity without adequate sanitation. Our eyes got lost in the sea of tents. We stayed at a guest house in Rafah. Our first night was cold, and many of us couldn’t sleep. We stood on the balcony listening to the bombs, and seeing the smoke rise from Khan Yunis.

As we approached the European Gaza Hospital the next day, there were rows of tents that lined and blocked the streets. Many Palestinians gravitated toward this and other hospitals hoping it would represent a sanctuary from the violence — they were wrong.

People also spilled into the hospital: living in hallways, stairwell corridors and even storage closets. The once-wide walkways designed by the European Union to accommodate the busy traffic of medical staff, stretchers and equipment were now reduced to a single-file passageway. On either side, blankets hung from the ceiling to cordon off small areas for entire families, offering a sliver of privacy. A hospital designed to accommodate about 300 patients was now struggling to care for more than 1,000 patients and hundreds more seeking refuge.

There were a limited number of local surgeons available. We were told that many had been killed or arrested, their whereabouts or even their existence unknown. Others were trapped in occupied areas in the north or nearby places where it was too risky to travel to the hospital. There was only one local plastic surgeon left and he covered the hospital 24/7. His home had been destroyed, so he lived in the hospital, and was able to stuff all of his personal possessions into two small hand bags. This narrative became all too common among the remaining staff at the hospital. This surgeon was lucky, because his wife and daughter were still alive, although almost everyone else working in the hospital was mourning the loss of their loved ones.

I began work immediately, performing 10 to 12 surgeries a day, working 14 to 16 hours at a time. The operating room would often shake from the incessant bombings, sometimes as frequent as every 30 seconds. We operated in unsterile settings that would’ve been unthinkable in the United States. We had limited access to critical medical equipment: We performed amputations of arms and legs daily, using a Gigli saw, a Civil War-era tool, essentially a segment of barbed wire. Many amputations could’ve been avoided if we’d had access to standard medical equipment. It was a struggle trying to care for all the injured within the constructs of a healthcare system that has utterly collapsed.

I listened to my patients as they whispered their stories to me, as I wheeled them into the operating room for surgery. The majority had been sleeping in their homes, when they were bombed. I couldn’t help thinking that the lucky ones died instantaneously, either by the force of the explosion or being buried in the rubble. The survivors faced hours of surgery and multiple trips to the operating room, all while mourning the loss of their children and spouses. Their bodies were filled with shrapnel that had to be surgically pulled out of their flesh, one piece at a time.

I stopped keeping track of how many new orphans I had operated on. After surgery they would be filed somewhere in the hospital, I’m unsure of who will take care of them or how they will survive. On one occasion, a handful of children, all about ages 5 to 8, were carried to the emergency room by their parents. All had single sniper shots to the head. These families were returning to their homes in Khan Yunis, about 2.5 miles away from the hospital, after Israeli tanks had withdrawn. But the snipers apparently stayed behind. None of these children survived.

On my last day, as I returned to the guest house where locals knew foreigners were staying, a young boy ran up and handed me a small gift. It was a rock from the beach, with an Arabic inscription written with a marker: “From Gaza, With Love, Despite the Pain.” As I stood on the balcony looking out at Rafah for the last time, we could hear the drones, bombings and bursts of machine-gun fire, but something was different this time: The sounds were louder, the explosions were closer.

This week, Israeli forces raided another large hospital in Gaza, and they’re planning a ground offensive in Rafah. I feel incredibly guilty that I was able to leave while millions are forced to endure the nightmare in Gaza. As an American, I think of our tax dollars paying for the weapons that likely injured my patients there. Already driven from their homes, these people have nowhere else to turn.

— Irfan Galaria is a Physician with a Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery Practice in Chantilly, Va.

[writingwenches]

Philia 1, agape 3, & ludus 5 for the OC of your choice 💕

OoOoOo! I had fun with this one and used this as a chance to explore my version of Alicent's mother Alaerie Hightower/Florent~ Thanks for the ask! And sorry to took 5ever~

voice inspiration — Bernadette Peters face inspiration — Christina Hendricks themes — Ive been so many people having Alicent's mother "die young" which makes sense, but I wanted to make a version that was an "older" mother because Alicent deserves to have a mother that lived a full life~

content: pregnancy complication discussion

1//Philia — Does your OC have a Best Friend? If they do then how long have they known each other and how did they meet? If they don’t then do they have a close group of friends they love equally? Or are they more of a loner?

There are three relationships that shaped the world around Alicent, through her mother Alaerie Florent.

Mina Flowers — Alaerie's mother died when she was around 4, and was raised by Septas and tutors since. Alaerie's childhood friend, Mina was a noble bastard that Lord Emmet Florent allowed to be raised alongside his daughter in Brightwater Keep. Mina is a bastard of House Blackbar, from Bandallon, a seaside city East of Brightwater. Growing up, Alaerie would defend Mina's bastardry as something that Mina shouldn't be judged on, until Mina found herself pregnant at a young, unmarried age. House Florent threw her out, and Alaerie learned to never trust a bastard. This opens up a fun potential for a Bastard OC around Daemon's age~

Otto Hightower — Alaerie had spent her youth dreaming of marrying a Lord and becoming the Lady of a noble house, prepared to represent her new family in all of their glory. Alaerie spent time during her studies of Noble Houses to dive into the ancient histories of houses she particularly enjoyed, and daydreamed about being the perfect Lady for them. When she met Otto, she was instantly smitten by him, she wasn't even aware. She had planned her whole life to be the perfect Lady, that she was surprised when Otto's offer of being nothing more than his wife excited her. She loved Otto and would consider him her best friend. She found him charming, handsome, and intelligent. But, being a proper pious woman, she was embarrassed by her attraction to her husband. I picture Alaerie as an older mother, having her first child around 30, nearly ten years of marriage. Because of their struggles to conceive, I'm sure there were plenty of Maesters involved in her and Otto's bedtime ~rituals~ which would have embarrassed her to no end. She would often admit to Alicent that her father was quite the romantic, and Alaerie raised Alicent to be excited for true romance in her future marriage. Unfortunately.

Aemma Targaryen — I wouldn't necessarily say they were best friends, but they had a very close relationship. Aemma and Alaerie give off "work colleague" vibes, because they were the only other women/mothers in their world and their kids are best friends. Alaerie was up to a generation older than Aemma, so Alaerie thought of Aemma as the younger sister she never had. Alaerie gave birth to her youngest child, when Aemma gave birth to her eldest child. Both women experience pregnancy struggles and complications. Alaerie struggled more with conception, where Aemma struggled in later parts of pregnancy. Alaerie did not speak often of her miscarriages, and because they were usually early on, she was physically able to "carry on" easier. This gives Otto a warped sense of recovery. Alaerie cheers Aemma on and assures her is Alaerie could have two children, Aemma could as well. Alaerie is very team "GET AEMMA PREGNANT" which could lean into Aemma's wanting to give up trying after her Baelon pregnancy, because Alaerie/her cheerleader has died

3//Agape — To what extent does your OC believe in the value (or even existence) of true altruism? Do they see an unselfish concern for the welfare of others as being naïve or foolish? Or as a moral quality to which people should aspire?

Alaerie was raised as a proper lady of the Faith of the Seven, she judges her family when they fall short, it's not like its hard to follow the rules. Alaerie believes that the church has the answer for "true altruism" and she will follow it as closely as possible, even to the extent that she is embarrassed to be attracted to her husband.

Being a noble, she was raised with a "herd mentality" in reguards to small folk. So, she cares about them as a collective, rather than individuals. The needs of the many out way the needs of the few when it comes to small folk only. High borns are special and chosen by The Gods™ to have a better life than peasants.

5//Ludus — What seduction techniques are most likely to be effective when it comes to your OC? Are there some things guaranteed to get them going? Or are they immune to such things?

Otto is a man from The Reach, he was taught proper etiquette from the best knights in the realm, I would imagine that they are allowed a more ~feminine~ side when around women. So, Otto opening up and being vulnerable with her and only her is so special and sexy to her. Alaerie married Otto, not out of obligation, but because she really enjoyed him, and there were times that he treated her as his equal. He could bring her a coquette of flowers and ask her about her political opinions and she'd swoon. Otto really did enjoy what she had to say, and sought out her opinions..........was he doing this because he actually cared about those opinions? Or did he know that it was the quickest way to get her clothes of?? 🤷🏻 I guess we'll never know....

[hoperaypegasus]

Savannah Speculation

So, Team Wild Fang wasn’t always the representatives of the entire African continent. They originally started off just as the reps from a fictional country called Savannah. Now, the information we are really told about this country sums up to this: it’s small, poor, has very few people, and really, really needs trade partners. 

Out of all the groups we see, they are one of two groups with blended blended countries of origin (Kyoya and Benkei from Japan, Nile hinted at from Egypt, and Demure from a primarily grasslands country), the other being the EU representatives. 

However, unlike Team Excalibur, they only started out being representative of one country, who apparently had so few bladers that they had to turn to opening the selection tournament to make a mark on the global stage.

So what’s the backstory of Savannah? What put the small country in such a tight spot? And where in Africa is it even located? Well, with a little research and a whole ton of hyperfixation, I believe I have a pretty solid theory.

One: Savannah’s Location

We are told that Savannah is a small African country. However, since Africa is the second largest continent, that really does not help us much. All it did was eliminate the other continents.

The first hints towards Savannah’s exact location are its climate. The area around Rock City (the location of the selection tournament), appears to mostly fall into the semi arid type of climate. Therefore, we can cancel out all areas that are purely arid or grassland, leaving us with this search area.

Now that doesn’t look as helpful as it actually is, because our darling dearest Beyblade loves dramatic opening shots. And from that, we know there is a more arid are of the country as well, further narrowing it down to places with both. And Kyoya walks through a more arid area, however, it is primarily rocks, not just sand. Which is a huge clue, as there are four deserts within Africa that have a large amount of rocks in them: The Kalahari, The Karoo, The Chalbi, and The Guban. These narrow our map of possible locations to look like this.

Now, we are looking at exactly five countries that could have given up some of their land to form Savannah. In the south, we have Namibia, Botswana, and South Africa. And in the east, we have Kenya and Somalia. I’m going to go ahead and eliminate South Africa off this list as it rejoined the British Empire after the end of Apartheid in 1994, which is really recent, as well as it being a huge and well known country around the world so it would likely remain untouched.

Next to go is Botswana. This is mainly due to how it is hinted that Wild Fang arrived in Japan by boat. Now, I understand that they were likely coming from India, but we also see Rock City. That is Savannah’s capital and if they had an airport, it is likely to be there. But we see no signs of one, so I’m choosing to believe their main mode of transport off the continent was boat and Botswana is landlocked.

Now we’re down to Namibia, Kenya, and Somalia. Now we focus on the other aspects of Savannah we know. That it’s really, really, poor. That eliminates Namibia off the list in my opinion because they are already well know in the diamond industry and any splinter country off them would likely immediately be absorbed into it as well. So we’re down to Kenya and Somalia. 

Kenya does have a larger GDP than Namibia. However, Kenya has a large amount of tourism industry in its borders, which functions (according to what i read) as one of its primary sources of income. A splinter country would not have that infrastructure ready and judging by how all officials we see are in military-esque uniforms, the country is pretty new. It would have to rely on another main source of income that is common in Kenya, agriculture.

Somalia has the lowest GDP of the final two countries and its main source of income is agriculture, specifically livestock. Easier to set up in a young country, and decently easy to integrate into the trade market of, agriculture is my best guess on what Savannah’s main export is.

Now you are realizing that both of those countries seem to fit all the requirements, and you’d be right. So here’s my final purposed location for Savannah: right in-between the two.

The semi arid and arid climates line up perfectly, as does the naval transportation and rocky deserts. Savannah is a newly formed country between Kenya and Somalia.

Two: Savannah’s Origins

We’re into the speculation section now. 

I’ve mentioned Savannah as a newly formed country a few times, and this is mainly due to unlike nearly every other county, it does not have trade partners. It has no economic support from others and is clearly struggling. They do not care about accurately representing their country’s culture (ie the open to all selection tournament). And that could be because they don’t have a single central country culture yet. The country is still setting into its new role as one, and any representative would settle into that role with it, so it does not matter their country of origin (and the rep team probably were granted citizenship as soon as they were selected, meaning they are now at least dual citizens there). 

Another hint that the country is really newly formed is that fact that all officials we see are in military clothing. Now, government officials with military backgrounds aren’t odd, but literally every official we see are in uniform. That’s really common after a fight for independence in particular, as people seen as hero’s are likely to get elected into office. 

So, they recently won a war or battle of some kind for independence and are still coming up with their identity. They are very accepting of outside aid at the current moment (due to financial situations). It is also likely that they flourished during the World Championships and are in much better shape than when we first see them due to Wild Fang’s success.

Purposed Savannahian Stuff

National Animal: Lion (Hence the team name being Wild Fang since we see names being chosen for teams)

National Plant: Acacia Trees (The only large plants there we see)

National Languages: Swahili, Somali, Arabic, and English

Citizen’s Title: Savannahian

Exports: Agriculture (primarily livestock and fish) and Natural Resources (jewels)

Flag: 

[news4dzhozhar]

Israel holds female Palestinian rights lawyer without trial or charge

Ramallah, occupied West Bank – Two days before her arrest by the Israeli army, 28-year-old Palestinian human rights lawyer Diala Ayesh had been visiting Palestinian detainees in Israel’s Ofer Prison.

Little did she know that the next day, she would become one of the people she has spent her life’s work defending – a prisoner.

On January 17, Israeli forces arrested Ayesh at a checkpoint near Bethlehem in the occupied West Bank at about 2pm. One week later, Israeli authorities issued an “administrative detention” order against her, meaning she will be held without trial or charge for four months.

News of Ayesh’s arrest spread quickly across the occupied West Bank. She has worked for years – often pro bono – defending Palestinian political detainees in both Israeli or Palestinian Authority (PA) prisons.

Her family are still in shock over her arrest.

“We feel that it is getting harder every day. The feeling of loss and of missing someone only increases – it doesn’t get easier,” her 26-year-old sister, Aseel, told Al Jazeera.

“Whenever I cry at night in bed, or feel like I miss her, I try to remember how extremely strong she is,” continued Aseel, sobbing. “We feel that we are the ones who are weak, and she is the strong one. We derive our strength from her.”

Targeted by Israel and the PA

Even while behind bars, Ayesh’s top concern is the other prisoners.

After October 7, when Israel launched its ongoing assault on the besieged Gaza Strip, Ayesh formed a volunteer collective of female lawyers to follow up on the unprecedented numbers of Palestinians being arrested by the Israeli army in the occupied West Bank and East Jerusalem.

“She would train these female lawyers to conduct visits to the occupation’s Ofer prison, particularly amid this information blackout about prisoners,” Muhannad Karajeh, her former colleague and head of Lawyers for Justice, where she used to work, told Al Jazeera.

Ayesh and her team’s visits to these inmates in the only Israeli jail in the occupied West Bank were a small flash of hope as visits to prisoners in prisons in Israel were stopped after October 7.

“This group would act as the link between the prisoners and their families,” he continued.

A few weeks into her arrest, she told Aseel through her lawyer, to communicate with the families of the prisoners she had been following up with and to give them the latest updates on their sons, which she had written onto a notepad.

“She’s in prison, and we don’t know anything about her – whether she’s eating or not, sleeping or not, or what conditions she is being held in,” said Aseel. “Yet, all of her worries are to pass on a message from a male prisoner to his fiancee outside.

“That’s Diala for you.”

During her arrest, Ayesh was subjected to assault, threats, and insults by Israeli soldiers, according to the Addameer human rights organisation. She was transferred to Israel’s Hasharon Prison before being later taken to Damon Prison, where she is now being held.

Ayesh’s work as a human rights defender rose to the fore during her time at the Ramallah-based Lawyers for Justice, representing Palestinian political detainees in PA prisons. In July, she attended a session on behalf of the group at the United Nations in Geneva, Switzerland.

“She was like a power engine to her whole team and all the lawyers,” said Karajeh. “She has a big soul for volunteering, and people love her on the personal and professional level.”

Her efforts to monitor and document abuses against Palestinian detainees have made her a target for both the Israeli occupation and the PA.

During popular protests in the occupied West Bank against the killing of Palestinian activist Nizar Banat by PA forces in June 2021, Ayesh was “exposed to physical assault” by security officers, said Karajeh. She was among dozens of other women who were violated at the time.

Her family said, despite the difficulty of Ayesh’s arrest, they have been showered with love by people who came to support them.

“We were very shocked by how many people reached out to us after Diala was arrested,” said Aseel. “She is a social person, but it was so surprising to realise how many people were following her work.”

“This gave my parents a moral boost – it helped them to push forward and be patient,” she added.

Female prisoners

Tala Nasser, from the Addameer prisoners’ rights group, explained that Ayesh’s arrest comes amid a “violent mass arrest campaign” carried out by Israel since October 7.

The fact that the vast majority of the more than 6,900 Palestinians arrested in the occupied West Bank and East Jerusalem since October 7 have been transferred to administrative detention highlights the arbitrariness of Israel’s arrests, she said.

“This campaign includes activists, human rights defenders and political leaders,” Nassar told Al Jazeera, noting that it is “an attempt to silence them and prevent the exposure of the occupation’s crimes across the whole country”.

In December, Israeli forces also arrested political and civil society leader Khalida Jarrar, who was similarly transferred to administrative detention.

Despite releasing all but three Palestinian female detainees during the latest prisoner exchange with Hamas at the end of 2023, the Israeli army rearrested dozens. Some 80 female prisoners are being held today, all of whom are in the Damon Prison.

Among the 80 are dozens of women from the besieged Gaza Strip, but lawyers are forbidden from visiting them or knowing anything about them.

Several reports have emerged of female detainees from Gaza being physically beaten and abused, including an unknown number of them being held at Israeli military bases and not in prison.

Lawyers say conditions for all Palestinian detainees, including women, are unprecedentedly difficult. Eight Palestinian male prisoners have also died or were killed in Israeli custody since October 7, most of them in the days and weeks after their arrest.

Over the past few months, many videos have emerged of Israeli soldiers stripping, torturing and abusing male prisoners from both the occupied West Bank and the Gaza Strip.

“It is important to note that every female that is arrested is violated in one way or another,” said Nasser. “They are all facing threats, intensive strip searches, verbal assault and physical violence.”

[bopinion]

2024 / 10

Aperçu of the Week:

"When will conservatives understand that climate protection is conservative because it preserves. When will liberals understand that climate protection is liberal because it secures freedoms and when will social democrats understand that climate protection is social because it protects the weakest in society the most?"

(Ingwar Perowanowitsch - German activist, blogger and political journalist)

Bad News of the Week:

Thousands of Russians are not letting the arbitrary arrests by the police stop them from publicly mourning opposition figure Alexei Navalny, who (it has to be said exactly like this) was killed by the Kremlin. Flowers are piling up at his grave in the Borisovskoye cemetery in the south-east of Moscow and no one is afraid to show their tears. A different face of Russia can be seen here. Vladimir Putin has created a classic martyr who was prepared to go to his death for his belief in the cause.

A second critic with reach has now also been taken out of the game: the former world chess champion Garry Kasparov, who is also widely known in the West, has found himself on a list of "terrorists and extremists" for a few days now. He has already been listed as a "foreign agent". This shot could also backfire, and here too a great deal of solidarity can be expected from better-informed and more critical sections of the Russian population. But will it do any good? No.

As there are only puppets of the power apparatus on the committee responsible, there is no real alternative to Putin in the presidential elections due to take place in the next few days. This will be just as much an alibi event as the last elections. Which won't even bother the majority of the electorate. After all, outside the metropolitan areas, this majority consumes almost exclusively state-controlled media. And they get what they want: a strong man at the top who knows what's going on.

One insight from this is the same as that gained from the ever more firmly cemented status of Xi Jinping in China, who, like Putin, wields almost dictatorial power without any checks and balances, let alone a corrective: Democracy begins above all with information. Only if independent media observe and comment on political events can voters form an informed opinion. And then press for these opinions to be heard and acted upon. In the form of a genuine opportunity to vote - the keyword is "people's representatives". Unfortunately, more and more nations are further away from this ideal as ever. In a world that could actually be more enlightened than ever before in its history. But people are obviously too comfortable for that. And probably also too stupid.

Good News of the Week:

It was "Super Tuesday" already a few days ago. And it went like expected. As did the following pre-elections. Two guys who are too old were elected by a massive margin. Because this nation simply hasn't managed to build worthy successors - neither the Republicans nor the Democrats. While the former will indeed euphorically nominate a notorious liar and cheat for the most powerful office in the world, the latter seem to simply resign themselves to their fate: if an incumbent seeks re-election, they concede it to him. Even if his approval ratings are subterranean and his physical capacity is at least questionable.

Let's be clear: if the majority goes to Donald Trump in November - and it will probably go to him if the numbers are to be believed - the Democrats should not complain about it. Because they are to blame. There is only one politician who is currently in an even worse position than Joe Biden. And that is Kamala Harris. She is not yet officially running mate. But since it has never seemed so likely that a vice-president would have to take the helm during a term of office, these two are a duo infernale. A team that nobody wants. Even if that may seem unfair or unjustified.

Donald Trump and Viktor Orbán have just met as autocrats in Mar-a-Lago. Trump publicly admires the fact that Orban is a dictator. What he says happens, "he's the boss". And Orbán hails Trump as the "president of peace", with whom there would be neither the Ukraine nor the Gaza war. Par ordre du mufti. A clear rejection of democracy. Which Biden takes to the extreme by stylizing the upcoming election as a decision for or against democracy. And he is right.

The situation is frightening for us Europeans. We look across the Atlantic with the morbid fascination of a car crash that is clearly on the horizon. And which can no longer be prevented. The whole world was surprised by Trump's last election victory, including himself. I remember exactly how I heard about Trump's 2016 election victory on the radio in the morning and thought that I must still be dreaming. In a way, I was right, because Trump was and is a nightmare.

And that makes Super Tuesday good news in the context of its negative circumstances. Because now we know pretty much exactly what we are in for at the beginning of next year. The whole world will suffer from Trump's ignorant "America First" attitude - politically, economically, in terms of security policy and also morally. But we have been warned, we know it. And we can now prepare ourselves for at least nine months of serious damage for the cooperative US-European axis. And the US democratic establishment is to blame. This swamp should have been drained.

Personal happy moment of the week:

For our stay in Montréal with the children in late summer, we got a great loft in a great neighborhood. Having never booked anything on AirBnB before, the host didn't want us at first - he'd had bad experiences with newcomers who were apparently also being rated on this platform. My wife then had two arguments that convinced him that we wouldn't mess up his loft: she was traveling with Germans, the tidiest people in the world. And she was the daughter of a policeman. That worked.

I couldn't care less...

...that Boeing can't get out of a maelstrom of technical defects and quality deficiencies. As a European, I prefer Airbus anyway.

It's fine with me...

...that Jon Stewart is back as host of The Daily Show. For all his humor - and how that guy always makes me laugh - he's actually a sharp-tongued political commentator and investigative journalist who uses the stylistic device of satire to put a non-partisan finger in every wound he finds. Very good.

As I write this...

...I'm listening to songs by Bob Geldof & The Boomtown Rats. Because I realized that although I can really relate to "Tell me why I don't like Mondays", I don't know anything else by these musicians. It's just dawned on me why... Which doesn't change the fact that I think Live Aid and Band Aid ("Do they know it's Christmas?") were and still are great.

Post Scriptum

The strikes on German public transport continue. Just recently there were no trains for two days and the airports also had to close for two days because of the ground staff. Now, in the following week, there will not only be a strike by Lufthansa on-board staff, but so-called "wave strikes" will also begin on the railroads. These are announced at most 24 hours in advance so that it is - on purpose! - difficult to prepare for them. So the necessary "mobility turnaround" will certainly not happen. Why do we increasingly have the feeling that these labor disputes are being carried out on the backs of the passengers?

[bu1410]

Good morning TUMBLR - March 6th - 2024

''Mr. Plant has owed me a shoe since July 5, 1971."

Ch. VII - 1984-1985 - Milan, Italy - New York - Mexico

Milan, Italy - Navigli area

Milan, Italy - Via Lodovico il Moro. Housing complex

New York - March '84

Twin Towers, Manhattan - March 1984

Mexico City - Zocalo square and Cathedral of Assumption of the Virgin Mary

Mexico City - Chapultepec castle

Teotihuacan - March 1984

Cancun - March 1984

Contoy Island - Mexico

Isla Mujeres . Mexico - March 1984

The years after Iraq represented for me the return to work in Italy. I responded to an advert in the ''Corriere della Sera'' newpaperwhere a local Company was looking for Site Engineer to follow the construction of an housing complex in Ludovico il Moro avenue, Milan. I had an interview with the Construction company's owner and I got the the job. The project consisted of the construction of a housing complex of 90 apartments. It was the month of June, and I think that was one of the hottest month in a century. Inside the deep excavation foundations the heat was unbearable, it felt like being in the Middle East. Within couple of days I met our Sub Contractor, some artisans from Brescia, professional people and tireless workers.

FORD TRANSIT VAN It was an early morning of July when our Subcontractor's personnel arrived at site with a new van: a brand new legendary light blue Ford Transit. They invited me to the bar in front of the site to ''wet'' the newly purchase van. Once returned to site entrence we had an unwelcome surprise: the van had disappeared!!

Where is the van??? One of the two owners asked.

Well....I parked it here......

Yes but in my opinion…

Oh damn God....where is it gone???

Come on - said the second owner…- good joke but now let's sort it out.....- he almost laughin........... After wandering around for a while, we called the traffic police to ask if they had noticed a brand new blue Transit van taken away: nothing, they knew nothing about it! At this point we were forced to admit that the van had disappeared. All we had to do was walking back to site, take the second van (which fortunately was still in place) and go to the nearest police station, in San Gottardo street. Here began the usual ping pong of questions and answers that always characterizes the relationship with the police in Italy.

The cop repeats the same question for the umpteenth time:

'Are we sure someone stole a van from there? ''

Sh******t yesssss … how many times do we have to repeat it? We parked it, went into the bar, took a hoodie and when we came out the van has vanished…… (then in a low voice to his partner: if he ask one more time I'll punch him in the nose.....

and his mater: stay calm Gino …stay calm please.....…

Okkay okkay...... – the cop finally seemed convinced – let's write the damn report ! (and here the usual description of the facts began with that kind Italian language that only police know and practice. That writing between the courtly and the doubtful, always with verbs in remote past tense, even if the facts described only happened a few hours earlier. We left the police station at noon, but at least the guys had the theft report in their hands.

The van was never found again - after a week or so Subcontractor's people arrived with a new minibus, but they used parking it inside the site yard.

A112 I had bought a red and black A112 car. Nothing better to drive around the narrow and always busy streets of Milan. That year Rome football team reached the final of the then Champions League Cup and match was against the English side Liverpool. That evening I reached home a little late so I left the car parked in front of the house, intending to put it in the garage after the game. Regular time ended 1 – 1 (Pruzzo's equalizer after Neal's initial lead). After extra time Roma lost the match on penalties!! Disappointed with the result and it being late, I went to bed leaving the A112 on the road. The next morning, I left for work very early. At a traffic light on Jenner avanue a driver pulls alongside and says to me:

But where do you have the license plates?

Mmmm… (7.00 am) Well . ...supposingly one in front and the other in back of the car......I answered.

No look… there's neither the one in front nor the one in the back!!!

WTF......I pulled over and immediately got out to realize that yes! The license plates were both missing!! What to do? I riched the construction site to warn my colleagues about what happened, and then I continued and went to the very same Police Station in Via San Gottardo, in order to file a report of license plates theft!

The Seargent recognized me:

Ah yes, you are the one from the van that disappeared ten days ago….

No, look agant… I only accompanied the people who work for my company….

Yes…yes…and in any case tell me why…you come from your place till here to report the licence plates disappearance?

Sorry agant but.....I this morning I didn't pay attention the plates were not longer in position, a driver at traffic light warned me… it's not like someone does it the first thing at 6.00 in the morning to check whether the license plates are there or not …I hop you understands me……

Yes…yes…oh well……but you should have gone to the nearest police station ....why you didn't?

This is the nearest police station, after I realised plates numbers desapperead, agent......And what do I know… without license plates you can't drive around....Can I replace the license plates temporarily with two pieces of cardboard while waiting for the regular ones?

Do what you want… but by law you cannot circulate without original plates numbers.

So it was like that I had two temporary sheet metal plates made on site, with which I drove around ''illegaly'' for a couple of weeks, until the regular plates arrived.

WEDDING In the meantime, me and my tha fiancee Rosalba had decided it was the time to get married. The ceremony took place in the Town Hall of Meda, a city about 25 km from Milan, hometown of my ex. It was very hastily officiated by a short-sighted councilor who had forgotten his glasses at home, so that he began to read the ritual sentences with the documents stuck to his eyes, and he try his best to short cut everything by saying etc. etcetera.....etcetera. We had a reception dinner in a cozy rastaurant called ''La Casupola, nested in a large countryside park.

On our honeymoon we went first to New York, then to Mexico City and finally to Isla Mujeres, in the Mexican Caribbean. To tell the truth, we had chosen Cozumel or Cancun, but the travel agency had advised us against the two destinations because - she said - 'too filthy' places.....''. To tell the truth, in order to reach Isla Mujeres we passed through Cancun, and at first glance it didn't seem "too filty" at all.

NEW YORK The flight Milan – New York was pleasant, and we had the opportunity to meet the Grand Master Pavarotti, an exquisite person. On the plane there were also members of the Italian national ski team, who were going to participate in competitions in North America. Great impression from my first visit to New York: on VI Avenue the wind slipped between two rows of very high skyscrapers, and cut our faces as if we were in the Alps. Another - disappointing - impression of the city was that NY was not at all ''all new and shiny'' as we were shown in films and TV series. I saw a lot of ''new used'' (or used new) in the sense of buildings, subways, streets, sidewalks and benches that were not old but already ruined by use. All this left me with a sense of dismay, making me realize that the "American dream" was perhaps just a dream, and the reality was much more down to earth. A beautiful memory was the climb to the terrace-restaurant of the West Tower of the Twin Towers, even though we were not allowed to go out on the open terrace because the wind was too strong up there. The small museum at the top of the tower was very beautiful with photos and videos of the phases of the tower's construction. The video of the antenna installation on the East Tower was amazing: the workers involved were all members of that particular tribe of Native Redskins who - due to a congenital defect of the hearing system - do not suffer from vertigo.

MEXICO CITY

Two days later we were on a flight to Mexico City, and when the captain of the plane announced to fasten seat belts while aircraft started the descent, we spent another half looking to the endless metropolitan area of Mexico city. The city was immense, and neighborhoods could be seen touching the sides of the surrounding mountains. We stayed at the Hotel Casablanca, on Paseo Reforma, a modern 30-story skyscraper. The following year - on Sept. 19th, 1985 - the hotel collapsed during the disastrous earthquake which claimed more than 10,000 victims. We visited Theotihuacan, the floating gardens of Xochimilco, Chapultepec park and the National Museum of Anthropology – and than Piazza Garibaldi, the Zocalo, and finally the famous ''Zona Rosa''.

QUINTANA ROO We than left for Quintana Roo, the state bordering Yucatan, to reach Cancun. Having landed at Cancun airport, at the time little more than a warehouse, we took a taxi to Puerto Juarez, from where the ferry to Isla Mujeres left. At that time, without the Internet, trips were much more difficult to plan and uncertainty reigned supreme. Today, with all the information available online, we would never have gone to Puerto Juarez to wait for a rusty ship, while there was a fast hydrofoil service that connected Cancun with Isla Mujeres in 35 minutes. The weather had worsened, low black clouds threatened rain, which arrived promptly: torrential rain and wind caused rough seas and a further delay to our ferry. Finally the ship arrived, and after unloading a few passengers and vehicles, we boarded and set off immediately. The crossing was quite troubled, with the sea becoming increasingly rough - we reached the pier of Isla Mujeres late in the evening, the rain had stopped, and a taxi took us to the Posada del Mar, the hotel we had booked through the agency in Italy. The hotel was right on the sea front, the room was good, and the bed was huge, an anticipation of what American call ''California King'' I guess. The next morning we had a typical rich Mexican breakfast: tropical fruit, huevos ranchero with bacon, juices of all colors. Than we set off to explore the island, renting bicycles from a lady who, instead of a guard dog, in the enclosure where she was keeping her bicycles, she had a crocodile that she used to release at night. The lady told us that she had never suffered a theft.

Isla Mujeres, with the elongated shape of a barracuda, is about 15 km long. Very beautiful from a naturalistic point of view, with fantastic sea and beaches on the West coast. We spent pleasant days at the beaches, especially in the lagoon that separates Isla Mujeres with its appendix, an islet that housed the Mia Reef hotel. We visited Garrafon Reef Park, where we could familiarize ourselves with nurse sharks and huge turtles. In the shallow water of the sea a multitude of colorful fish. We witnessed a beautiful show of orcas and seals, and during the show we exchanged a few words with a retired American couple, who invited us to have coffee in their mobile home parked nearby.

How long are you staying? The kind lady asked us

About ten days – I replied

Nooo… we're doing a tour of 3 or 4 months… then we'll see – replied the husband.

CONTOY ISLAND Once we decided to go on an excursion to Contoy, a small archipelago that is a Marine Natural Reserve in Mexico. We took our seats on a motor boat where there were already a dozen foreigners, who later revealed themselves to be a group of Canadians from a commercial TV. Halfway through the cruise - which would have lasted about 3 hours - the sailors made a stop to allow us to do some snorkeling in a shoal. The sea was wonderful, lots of fish and coral – then suddenly, while I was swimming, I looked up from the water and realized that they were leaving me there, alone in the middle of the sea!! It was a prank organized by the Mexican sailors to liven up the day, and when the boat turned around to fish me out everyone laughed out loud looking at my face....... At the time, however, I fell for it, and it wasn't one of the best memories of that holiday. One of the sailors, before arriving in Contoy, had caught half a dozen fish, trevally and barracuda, and once we moored at the small pier he got busy preparing the grill. The place was heavenly, the only building on the island was the guardian's house - a multitude of exotic birds and land iguanas populated the dense coconut palm forest. The fish cooked on the grill with peppers and other veggies was fantastic, the beers were fresh: simply a daay to remember! In the meantime, several boats had docked at the small pier on the island, including a yacht owned by couples of young Americans. They began to harass the numerous iguanas that roamed the surrounding rocks. I noticed that the park rangers were already in alert. At a certain point one of the American boys took an iguana by the tail, and, while swinging it, threw it into the sea. Immediately one of the guardians, still dressed, dived into the water and after a few seconds recovered the animal. The land iguana cannot swim and would certainly have died without the intervention of the park ranger.

Cabrones yanqui, hijo de puta mama que vajas antes que te golpeé!! (American goat son of a bitch go away before I beat you) The Americans untied the ropes, without saying a word, and under the reproachful gazes of all those present, they started the engine of the yacht and left accompanied by insults from all those present. We returned to Isla Mujeres while the sea was colored in sunset's pink-red.

FLIGHT BACK TO ITALY After Rosalba had gotten yet another sunburn, the holiday ended. The hydrofoil took us back to the ''filthy'' Cancun. It was very early and so we spent the day on the hotel beach.

At the beach chiringuito I ate the spiciest bocadillo of my life, and then we went to the airport to board the plane to Miami. Once we arrived in Florida, a local black policeman questioned me in Spanish, saying he was surprised that I wasn't Cuban (I wore a mustache at the time, maybe for that?) and then they accompanied us to the International Transit area. Miami had a very colorful airport at the time: pink and purple carpets everywhere. Later we took our seats on the Mexicana de Aviacion plane that would take us to Madrid. The take-off/landing runways at Miami airport are of the X-shaped type and require accurate control by ground radars. Which evidently did not happen that afternoon, where we had a very dangerous near miss. Our Boeing 707 was already launched for take-off, when at the crossroads of the runways another plane appeared landing: the Captain of our plane applied the brakes, many of the bags fell from the overhead bins, the oxygen masks made their appearance, several passengers screamed loudly but luckily the seat belts held us in place, and no one was hurt. The plane had stopped in time to avoid a collision that would have been fatal to the passengers of both aircraft. We returned to the airport, they let us off, some ladies felt ill and medical intervention was necessary. After about an hour, a second plane was ready: we boarded and took off safely. The following morning, after a stopover in Madrid, an IBERIA flight took us to Linate.

Autobianchi A112

[crystalelemental]

Pokemon Team Analysis - Geeta

Alright, time for something that’s stupid and ill-advised.  I’m gonna talk about Geeta’s team.  Because general consensus is “It’s a bad fight,” and while I don’t disagree, I think that, like usual, it’s kind of just a blanket statement of “Too easy” rather than something discussed and dissected as to why it’s not working.

Also I think there are legitimately great aspects of her team that deserve some recognition as fairly solid game design for a challenge, that maybe people miss because overleveling is basically the norm.

I’ll start with the big thing: “Geeta should’ve led with Glimmora” is a bad take.  “But the Toxic Spikes!”  Are borderline irrelevant.  Players have no significant issues getting around them.  And to make matters substantially worse.  Glimmora is setup fodder.  It’s slow.  While it’s strong statistically, it’s weak with offensive types (Rock and Poison is a bad combo).  It would be exactly like Cynthia’s fight: super weak to setup.  Seriously, if you replay Platinum, try a Calm Mind sweeper with decent speed, and see how much of her team just drops.  Cynthia’s fight is not especially challenging when you can set up, it’s why they locked the boosting TMs to Battle Frontier in post-game.  To prevent you from doing that.

In the situation where Geeta leads Glimmora, Geeta is now significantly easier to beat.  Because Glimmora cannot threaten a good booster.  But you know what threatens a good booster?  Opportunist Espathra.

This is my favorite aspect of her fight.  Espathra is a fantastic lead for the game.  Because this isn’t competitive, it’s main game, where the AI won’t switch ever.  Where the goal of the AI now is to stop your tactics from just running train on them.  Opportunist copies your boosts, which means anything short of Swords Dance benefits her as well, and Espathra is notably fast.  And, most significantly, has Lumina Crash.  Anything not Dark-type gets hit with -2 special defense.  So if you’re boosting but you’re slower, you are guaranteed to be dead.  That’s...actually a good lead.  That’s a smart tactic for the main game.  It’s very Emerald-esque.  In Emerald, where boosting moves started to take off, nearly every major fight has something in their lead slot that can obliterate yours, be it paralysis, accuracy drops, Perish Song, or outright Toxic in Steven’s cast.  Espathra feels reminiscent of that, and is, in fact, a pretty strong lead because of it.  I just think maybe they could’ve done more than Reflect to bypass Sucker Punch strats, you know?  Like maybe ditch Quick Attack for Hypnosis or Confuse Ray.  Otherwise, great pick.

Glimmora’s the other I like, but more for thematic reasons.  I think it’s really interesting how much conversation has been generated around the simple fact that Geeta even has this thing.  For the story, I think it’s a great inclusion as her ace...I just also think Glimmora should’ve had a better speed stat, or Tera shifted into a completely different type.  Personally, I’d say Grass, because you know what blows up four of Grass-types weaknesses?  Rock.  Though admittedly, I think Glimmora needs to go Fire.  It’s got a solid defensive profile, and notably means Tera Blast can cut through Steel that otherwise hard walls its STAB combo.  I think the big problem is that it’s just a bit too slow to ever be threatening with its offenses, but its typing, including Tera, is just too defensively poor.  Poison would’ve been more valuable as a Tera type, with only two weaknesses, than Rock with like five.

The other aspect I do like is that Geeta’s team is representative of the region.  Espathra from the west, Gogoat from the east, Veluza from the lake, Avalugg from the mountain, Kingambit from the north, and Glimmora from the crater.  It’s a cool idea!  But also, when you know that?  You can...probably build a better team yourself.  And you may also notice, Geeta has a battle focus.  She’s bulky offense.  All of these options, barring Espathra, are fairly slow but also reasonably bulky.

AND BULK DOESN’T WORK

The player has natural advantage, thanks to EVs, and Pokemon is a game that works entirely on hitting each other with supereffective hits.  As coverage has expanded to insane degrees, virtually every offensive threat packs ideal coverage.  It is not had to clean sweep someone with one Pokemon when you have four fantastic coverage moves and a solid offense and speed stat.  Because of this, bulky offense cannot work in favor of the AI, which doesn’t switch out to avoid supereffective hits or leverage resistances.  Moreover, it especially doesn’t work when your heavy defenders are (1) Grass type, (2) Ice type, and (3) quad-weak to Fighting, one of the most common coverage options.

Geeta’s team is poorly balanced for the type of playstyle she’s trying to run, and we’re going to talk about better options from around the region to keep that focus, while also playing a lot better.

Espathra stays.  It’s a good lead.  I also keep Glimmora.  It’s a very cool ace.

From the east, instead of Gogoat, I would recommend Cyclizar.  How is this not considered an integral aspect of the region?  Cyclizar is such a hugely important thing.  Also, for bulky offense, the substitute is ideal.  While you could argue the idea of leading with Cyclizar, and I don’t strictly disagree, I think you’d want to program the AI to cheat a little.  If the foe boosts, switch to Espathra.  If they attack, switch to a resist.  It’s a pretty clean solution.

The lake is the most obvious solution.  Dondozo.  Curse setup, Liquidation, Earthquake, Avalanche.  Dondozo fits perfectly in bulky offense, but unlike Avalugg and Gogoat, Dondozo is blessed with a wonderful defensive typing in Water.  Dondozo would be perfect.

For the mountain, I’m going to say all of them are bad.  Most of what could fit is already a staple on someone else’s team, and I assume they were avoiding a lot of overlap.  So instead?  Gholdengo.  We need to talk about this: how in god’s name does she not have Gholdengo?  I don’t even like the thing, but a bulky offensive Pokemon with fantastic defensive typing and absurd offensive capabilities, backed by potential for either Nasty Plot or Recover?  That feels like the most obvious pick.  I feel like this has to happen.

Which means dropping Kingambit.  I don’t dislike Kingambit specifically, but I also feel like it’s pretty easy to take advantage of, especially when she doesn’t let it learn Sucker Punch.  It’s just so slow as to be laughable, and its typing isn’t super weakness-laden, but it’s not as powerful as Gholdengo’s.  If you wanted to keep Kingambit, then I’d probably say take Drifblim as the mountain Pokemon.  Make it more utility-focused, maybe taking Tailwind or something to buff the speed of Glimmora or something.  But instead, I’d say give her Lurantis with Contrary.  It has Leech Life, an ideal recovery tool.  Also give it Close Combat, since you think it’s so funny to take away Superpower as like the only useful thing it could have.  Bastards.

I think these shifts would largely improve on what she’s got going on.  But also, I think it doesn’t matter.  Again, bulky offense on AI doesn’t strictly work.  Especially without items.  It’s probably worth noting that the easiest BDSP fight, despite how hard that game cheats, is Bertha.  Because it is not hard to beat bulky offense.  I just...think a major problem is that Geeta’s approach effectively stands no chance of being particularly tough for a player.  Especially not in the era of forced EXP All and infinite coverage.  It’s just...not going to be difficult to stop her.  At all.  And I think we have to acknowledge that, with the way Pokemon is...that’s going to be the case forever.  They literally cannot design a challenging fight.  The system doesn’t allow it.  The reason older games felt harder is because it was super hard to keep on pace with the opponent’s level, so you were statistically under-prepared.  There’s a reason the only modern game to be considered difficult was Gen 7, which comprised entirely garbage mechanics to massively inflate enemy stats and force stupid 1v2 matchups.  It’s because they can’t design a fair fight that’s fun.  Because your solution is to just set levels way higher, and when you do that, the only solution is grinding, but they’ve spent four generations changing the gameplay flow to no longer require grinding, so they’re out of options.  At this point, only a major overhaul to the battle system would be successful.  And I’m...not sure they’ll know what to do with it.

[mariacallous]

Putin Has Russian Elite in a Frenzy Over Their Political Futures

The Kremlin elite is feverishly jostling for position in Vladimir Putin’s new term as the president surrounds himself with loyalists to pursue his war in Ukraine.

Putin may carry out a significant government shake-up for the first time since 2020 after this week’s elections, according to people close to the presidential administration and the government. While the Kremlin hasn’t yet finalized a list of names and appointments, several potential changes are likely as the president looks to refresh his team at the start of another six years in power, the people said.

Nervousness about a government shuffle is rising among the political and business elite as Putin prepares to gain a fifth term in the March 15-17 election that’s tightly controlled by the Kremlin. With Russia’s invasion of Ukraine now in its third year, officials are working to ensure a landslide for Putin as the country’s war leader. Such a victory has taken on added importance after last year’s unprecedented mutiny by Wagner mercenaries shook his authority as president.

“For the Kremlin it is important to send a signal of rotation and fresh blood is needed,” said Mikhail Vinogradov, the head of the St. Petersburg Politics Foundation. Expectations of change “are being raised around all positions” in the government, though the level of speculation about who may be moved risks distracting top leadership from dealing with military issues, he said.

Energy Minister Nikolai Shulginov, 72, may step down, according to two people with knowledge of the matter. One of the people who may replace him is Boris Kovalchuk, who’s expected to resign as chief of the utility holding Inter RAO this week, people familiar with the matter said.

Kovalchuk’s father, Yuri, is a sanctioned financier described by the US Treasury in 2014 as a “personal banker” for Putin and other top Russian officials.

Agriculture Minister Dmitry Patrushev, 46, the son of Putin’s powerful security council secretary Nikolai Patrushev, may also be in line for a new position, three people said. With the growth of the agriculture industry one of Russia’s big successes of recent years, one possibility being mooted is that he’ll be rewarded with a promotion to deputy prime minister.

Yury Trutnev, who’s currently deputy prime minister in charge of development of Russia’s Far East, may also get a bigger role, one of the people said.

Kovalchuk, 46, may alternatively be considered for an appointment at one of the major state-held energy holdings or take over the job of Russia’s OPEC+ negotiator Alexander Novak, Kommersant newspaper reported, citing unidentified people familiar with the situation.

Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov didn’t immediately respond to a request to comment.

While the government may feature some new names and responsibilities, there’s no sign Putin plans to alter the direction of policy in his confrontation with the US and Europe over Ukraine. In a flagship speech to lawmakers and top officials in Russia’s Federal Assembly on Feb. 29 that represented his election manifesto, the president set out long-term plans to 2030.

The West “not only seeks to impede our progress but also envisions a Russia that is a dependent, declining, and dying space,” Putin said. “It is our fighters that are creating today the absolutely essential conditions for the future of the country and its development.”

Putin last changed the government in 2020, ousting ex-president Dmitry Medvedev as prime minister and installing former tax authority head Mikhail Mishustin. He accompanied that with a far-reaching overhaul of Russia’s constitution to enable him to keep power as president potentially until 2036.

Mishustin, 60, is formally second to Putin in Russia’s constitutional order and would step in to replace him if anything happened to the 71-year-old president. The technocratic premier has been unfailingly loyal during the war, focusing on implementation of measures to blunt the impact of international sanctions and ramping up defense production without indicating any disquiet over the political and moral consequences of the invasion.

With Putin setting out plans to reform the taxation system in his manifesto, Mishustin is likely to carry on as prime minister, according to three people familiar. Still, there’s an outside chance he could be replaced by a figure such as Sergei Kiriyenko, the influential deputy head of the presidential administration and a vocal supporter of the war, according to one person with knowledge of the situation.

Kiriyenko, 61, was once a liberal reformer who became Russia’s youngest prime minister under President Boris Yeltsin in 1998, prompting critics to dub him “Kinder Surprise” after the children’s confectionery. He resigned after five months over the financial crisis triggered when the government defaulted on its debt.

Finance Minister Anton Siluanov, 60, another technocrat who’s helped to keep the sanctions-hit Russian economy afloat since Putin ordered the February 2022 invasion, may also continue in his post, they said.

Officials are waiting to learn what role Novak may play in the new government and whether Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov, who’ll be 74 this month, will continue in the post he’s held for 20 years, people familiar said, asking not to be identified as the matter is sensitive.

The fate of Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu, 68, who’s been in his post since 2012, will also be closely watched. Putin stood by his close ally after Shoigu was targeted in the mutiny led by Wagner leader Yevgeny Prigozhin, who accused the defense minister of a litany of failures on the battlefield in Ukraine.

Still, even as he removes people from the government, Putin rarely lets them leave. In past shuffles, he has appointed redundant ministers to roles as presidential advisers.

Separately, speculation is resurfacing over the leadership of the Bank of Russia even as Governor Elvira Nabiullina’s current five-year term still has more than three years to run. Nabiullina, who’s held the post since 2013, tried to resign after the invasion began, but Putin insisted that she remain in her post. Her resignation is still seen as unlikely by people close to the Kremlin.

“There are a lot of rumors about her departure,” said Tatiana Stanovaya, founder of the R.Politik political consultancy and a senior fellow at the Carnegie Russia Eurasia Center. While Nabiullina helped ensure Russia’s economy survived the sanctions, Putin may want “someone who shares his vision,” Stanovaya said.

There’s only position not up for grabs - and that’s Putin’s.

Having given himself the prospect of 12 more years in power, there’s no sign the president is grooming any candidate as a potential successor.

[jimothystu]

hii!

how are you?

I saw you posts about the blue jays, and as someone trying to get into baseball, can you like maybe give me a rundown of how the league works and maybe an overview of the blue jays since thats the team Im probably gonna be rooting for? I'm trying to get into it but im completely new to the sport and im honestly a little overwhelmed.

p.s I love your blog!

-🦫

hiii! i'm decent!! i hope you are too :)

omg okay, i only got into baseball a couple of seasons ago, so i don't know like every tiny detail, but here's a little overview! i'm a little honoured you asked me kjnskdjnsda

i'm assuming you know more or less how a game of baseball is played, but if not lmk!

so. mlb first.

the teams are divided between east, central, and west. within each of those there is also the american league and the national league.

AL east: Baltimore Orioles, Boston Red Sox, New York Yankees, Tampa Bay Rays, Toronto Blue Jays

AL central: Chicago White Sox, Cleveland Guardians (formerly the Indians but pretty much only old people still call them that), Detroit Tigers, Kansas City Royals, Minnesota Twins

AL west: Houston Astros, LA Angels, Oakland Athletics, Seattle Mariners, Texas Rangers

NL east: Atlanta Braves, Miami Marlins, New York Mets, Philadelphia Phillies, Washington Nationals

NL central: Chicago Cubs, Cincinnati Reds, Milwaukee Brewers, Pittsburgh Pirates, St. Louis Cardinals

NL west: Arizona Diamondbacks, Colorado Rockies, LA Dodgers, San Diego Padres, San Francisco Giants

In the NL, pitchers used to have to bat as well as hit, whereas in the AL there was a designated hitter (DH) who was not in the field, but rather stayed on the bench until it was their turn in the lineup to bat (instead of the pitcher). This rule changed last season I believe, and pitchers are no longer required to bat in the NL, but they can still do so if they want (see Shohei Ohtani, an incredible pitcher and batter). Pretty sure that's the only major difference. The AL and NL distinction is used during the All Star Games where the best (objectively) players from across the league play a game: AL versus NL.

It used to be that teams played their division rivals more than other teams, but the MLB has a new schedule this year that is trying to make it so each team plays division rivals less and interleague teams more (e.g., instead of playing other AL east teams a million times, the Blue Jays will play more NL teams). This is to try and make things a bit more even in terms of who plays whom, and also will allow fans to hopefully see their favourite teams more regularly.

For baseball, unlike in, say hockey where there's just single games against teams at a time, MLB baseball has series, in which two teams play anywhere from 2-4 games back to back. There are winners and losers of each game, of course, but there's also the winner and loser of the series. Series that have 2 or 4 games can have a tie, though.

Like other professional sports, there is a final playoff stint for MLB. It happens in the fall. This site has a good rundown of the playoff format!

And here's a list of over 150 basbeall terms/phrases!

Onto the Blue Jays:

So, the jays are Canada's only MLB team and as a result they pretty much have an entire country backing them. They are very vocal and proud of this fact, and take pride in representing a whole country. So that's always nice!

There are some favourites on the team, especially on tumblr lol. These include:

Vladimir Guerrero Jr.

1st baseman

Number 27

23 years old (24 on march 16)

One of the most talked about players

Great offense and defense

Born in Montreal but grew up in the Dominican

English isn't fluent, so he does interviews and stuff in Spanish via an interpreter

Father was an player (Vlad Sr)

Bo Bichette

Shortstop

Number 11

Turning 25 tomorrow!! (March 3)

Headbands

Florida man

Huge Justin Bieber fan

Father was in the MLB (Dante Bichette)

George Springer

Out fielder

33 years old

Number 4

Dad of the group but knows how to have fun

Is an actual dad

American

Was on the Astros during a cheating scandal and as such some fans of other teams bring that up a lot

Alek Manoah

Starting pitcher

Number 6

25 years old

American

Had an incredible debut against the Yankees in 2021

Tol

Intense on the mound but chaotic middle child energy off the mound

Matt Chapman

Best 3rd baseman in the league (in my humble opinion)

Number 26

29 years old

American

Egg (i.e. half the time he shaves his head)

SUCH a babygirl

Just so soft

Santiago Espinal

2nd baseman, but can also play shortstop if need be

Number 5

28 years old

American

Short king (5'10)

Besties with Bo

Pretty loose and fun in the dugout

Cavan Biggio

Utility player. I.e., can play multiple positions (third base, second base, and right field)

Number 8

27 years old

American

Besties boyfriends with Bo

Father was also in the MLB (Craig Biggio)

Danny Jansen

Catcher

Number 9

27 years old

American

Just had a baby!! (well his wife did)

Nickname is Jano

Sometimes also in the egg carton

Alejendro Kirk

Catcher

Number 30

24 years old

Mexican

Interviews in Spanish via interpreter

Shortest King (5'8")

People always say he's "not built like a catcher/athlete" (he's short and stocky and people are judgey)

Wife just had a baby!

Called Captain Kirk (after Star Trek)

Jose Berrios

Starting pitcher

Number 17

28 years old

From Puerto Rico

Constantly chewing on mouth guard

Adam Cimber

Relief pitcher (pitches in an inning or two after the starter has been taken out)

Number 90

32 years old

American

Super cool side-arm throw and a pretty glove

Cool tattoos

Mullet man

Jordan Romano

Closing pitcher, meaning he almost exclusively pitches in the last inning of play

Number 68

Local boy!! From Markham, Ontario. One of the few Canadian players on the team

Either has full caveman beard or babyface

Kinda lowkey always looks high

Tol and built like a twig

Kevin Gausman

Starting pitcher

Number 34

32 years old

American

Rocks a lot before he pitches (at risk of balking)

Whit Merrifield

Second baseman or outfielder

Number 15

34 years old

American

Came to the Jays last year and was a little controversial bc of uhhh vaccine stuff but it's chill now (i think)

Kinda just a Dude

Kevin Kiermaier

Outfielder

Number 39

32 years old

Huge uproar when he was signed this off season because of a stolen data card that Kirk dropped (read about it here if you want)

But is doing well in spring training so far so he's slowly being forgiven by the fans

This is not every player at all. If there are any that I didn't put and you wanna ask about, go ahead! I just did not want this post to be fucking massive, and I feel bad for taking so long as it is.

But yeah, I hope this helped somewhat! Again, I am still kinda new to baseball myself and do not know everything, but I'm always happy to help teach others about the Jays :D

[vigilskeep]

One hope I have is that if we ever go beyond the current known world of Thedas, we get to see other cultures influenced by real ones. Even if we don't introduce any new races, this would be a fantastic opportunity for minorities to have their voices heard and represented.

I don't want each race to feel like a monolith in the case of the Qunari or only limited to two major factions in the case of the elves and dwarves.

Each should have thriving and varied cultures outside of the known setting, and I really want mixed-race cultures as well that don't have the power imbalance of Tevinter and Andrastian nations. It shouldn't just be the Qun.

However, I do not trust BioWare's big-name writers (Who are all White to my knowledge) to get this right. Considering how they've written certain factions to 'represent' peoples of color, with these factions turning out to be morally dubious. Namely Tevinter and the Qunari.

And even if they were willing to do research, the small details that only come from living within that culture, that makes them feel alive in stories, will be completely absent. It's why diverse writing teams are so important.

That and I want to give David Gaider the middle finger for saying Asians don't exist in Thedas. Not cool dude.

yeah! i mean i’m white so i don’t have much to add on this but yes more cultural diversity always great and interesting to see and adds so much to the world, and yeah a lot problematic to be addressed with everything i can think of they’ve done so far. i don’t know much abt the writers because the actual development of the games isn’t something i know much abt but diversified team always better

did he say that??? fuck him. what a useless and awful thing to say. i mean aside from how much it sucks to exclude people from the games like that, it’s literally not even true in the games as they are now? there are definitely south asians in thedas without question. east asians seem more underrepresented to my knowledge but dao and da2 generally had player character presets that seemed coded that way? at least to my eyes. i do read the hawke family preset i use as asian and i’ve been meaning to get my hawke to the black emporium to better represent and fit in with that

[ledenews]

Unified Bank Breaks Ground on National Road Property in Wheeling

Unified Bank has officially broken ground on its new state-of-the-art banking center, which will be located at 836 National Road on the bustling Route 40 Corridor in the Woodsdale section of Wheeling, West Virginia. The new banking center will be situated next to CVS Pharmacy at the site of the former A.C. Buffet. Unified’s new location will serve as a regional West Virginia banking hub for the Bank, which has been proudly serving the Ohio Valley since its founding in 1902. Unified’s new banking facility will have over 8,000 square feet of space that will house both retail and commercial banking services for the growing bank. Unified anticipates employing twelve full-time team members at this new facility. Unified’s Chairman, President, and CEO, Scott Eversion, said the new Wheeling Banking Center will have retail services on the first floor with offices for a Retail Banking Executive, a Mortgage Loan Originator, a Customer Service Supervisor who will oversee both new accounts and teller operations and several Customer Service Representatives. There will also be a large conference room that will be utilized for loan closings and customer meetings, along with a dedicated area for safe box services. The second-floor level of the banking center will house the commercial team, with offices for multiple commercial lenders, treasury management personnel, document production, a large conference room, storage areas, and a kitchen break room for all team members. According to the rendering released by Unified Bank, the new structure will be a two-story branch. A three-lane drive-up banking center will be located separately from the main building, which will be approximately 300 feet behind the main banking center building. This facility will house two Customer Service Representatives and will also have an island ATM, which will provide twenty-four hour-banking services. For customer convenience, Unified’s drive-up banking center will be easily accessible from a dedicated entrance/ exit on Leatherwood Lane, off of National Road. Everson commended City Manager Bob Herron and former Mayor Glenn Elliott for their strong support and cooperation for this project along with that of the city council. “Unified Bank has long served the Ohio Valley and has built a very solid and loyal customer base in the Wheeling market. Being able to finally fulfill our existing customers’ appeal to build a banking center to more directly serve them in this very appealing and vibrant community is highly gratifying for our Company," he said. "Our roots are truly in this valley and our vision is to create better lives and futures for the people and communities that we proudly serve. We will eagerly stand by the side of this community and its citizens by giving back and supporting many community projects and events. We certainly look forward to the opportunity of not only better serving our existing clientele; but, also, introducing the Unified Way to and serving many new customers within the greater Wheeling market!” Solidus, a banking industry planning/design/construction management company from East Hartford, Connecticut, has designed a very attractive building to fit the property well and will oversee the construction, which will be accomplished by utilizing the services of many local businesses and tradespeople. The estimated completion of the new banking center is the third quarter of 2025. Read the full article