#tribal leader appointment

[townpostin]

JMM Celebrates as Ramdas Soren Takes Ministerial Oath

Tribal leader’s appointment sparks jubilation; seen as win for indigenous communities Ramdas Soren’s swearing-in as minister ignites widespread celebrations among JMM supporters across Jharkhand. JAMSHEDPUR – JMM supporters rejoice as Ramdas Soren becomes minister, hailing it as a triumph for tribal representation. Jharkhand Mukti Morcha (JMM) party members erupted in celebration as Ramdas Soren…

[trippinsorrows]

my all + oneshot

authors note: this is all deranged, dysfunctional, toxic, and unhealthy. i condone none of the shit ya'll are about to read. none. inspired by this ask.

words: 8.7k

song inspo: 'my all' by mariah carey. because solana is just as down bad as mariah was singing this shit about a young derek jeter.

warnings: smut, violence, some angst. age gap relationship (10 years). a bit of a daddy kink. breeding kink. blink and you'll miss it cum play. toxic relationship. rough sex. roman is dominant and possessive. solana is passive and a bit of a nympho for him.

Solana Miller knew the minute she laid eyes on Roman Reigns that he would be trouble. Without even knowing his story, his case, or the reason he was serving a 10 year sentence, she just knew he would be a problem for her. 

It started with the first man that he sent to her infirmary. Badly beaten. Multiple cracked ribs. A ruptured kidney. Eyes swollen shut. 

The reason for the vicious attack?

Because he could.

The man ended up needing care beyond what Solana could provide, hence being transferred to the main hospital.

And that was just one of several. Over the course of four weeks, several men who found themselves on Roman Reigns' bad side—if a good one even exists—laid on her bed. Bloody, beaten, unconscious. The more inmates she saw, the more severe the beatings. His cruelty seemed to know no limits.

And, Roman himself wasn't even the one who'd caused such mayhem. He had people working for, and inmates doing his dirty work for him. Even behind bars, he was still running shit.

It was the final inmate to need intense, urgent medical care beyond her clinic that Solana had to ask, had to inquire as to why. The how this kept happening. How Reigns hadn’t earned himself at least a good month or two of solitary confinement.

The answer?

“He’s untouchable.”

That was the only answer she received from her direct supervisor, the medical director of the prison, Dr. Trish Stratus.

And, it made sense. Because one look at Roman and one just knows he’s bad news, anyone who’s anyone knows exactly who Roman Reigns is.

The Tribal Chief. 

The Head of the Table.

The Capo.

He has many names, many titles, but all lead to one thing.

Danger.

Roman Reigns is the personification of danger.

The feared, brutal leader of two of the biggest crime syndicates in the world. His stint in federal prison only occurring due to betrayal from within his inner circle and a freshly appointed DA who thought he was hot shit by bringing down “The Big Dog.”

Solana knows it’s only a matter of time before he “mysteriously” disappears. Any sign or trace of him most likely to be found in the form of scattered body parts. If anything at all is to be left. 

Just like she knows it’s only a matter of time before Roman is someway, somehow released. A man as powerful as him can only be kept in chains for so long.

It'd been a little over a month since Solana first locked eyes with Roman Reigns in passing as he was being escorted to his cell. A brief, powerful, memorable thing. The faintest hint of a smirk on his handsome face as she redirected her gaze to her shoes.

Avoid.

Solana was determined to avoid him at all cost.

A difficult, almost impossible thing to do when one day she walked into work to find him sitting on the patient bed in her room, waiting for her almost, wearing a smug expression. 

The reason for his presence?

“Said his chest was hurting.”

Solana had never felt so disgusted with a person before when she received that bullshit answer from the guard. The guard who not only left her alone with Reigns, door closed, left him alone, completely unshackled. No cuffs on his wrists.

It was….unnerving, to say the least.

She’d heard the gory tales of his brutality. Knew what he was capable of. And, she’d been left alone with him. 

Wonderful.

Solana swallowed, doing her best to show no fear as she placed her bag on the hook behind the door. “Take your shirt off for me.” She issued her command while washing her hands, taking longer than what was necessary, already knowing she was bound to be distracted by the sight of such a man shirtless.

And, damn, was she correct.

Roman sat, still smug, shirtless, rippling muscles on full display. His tattoos, almost entirely tribal in nature, decorating half his body. A beautifully sculpted body.

Solana’s resolve had never been tested as much as it was in that awful moment.

“What’s your name, pretty girl?” It was the first thing she heard him say, the deep timbre of his baritone voice shaking her in an unsettling way.

Solana managed to avoid eye contact, drying her hands and answering. “Solana.” Throwing the used paper towels away, she added, “you can call me Nurse Miller.”

Roman shook his head, a teasing smile growing. “I like pretty girl better.” Fuck. “What’s a nice, young thing like you doing working in a place like this?”

“What are your symptoms?” She asked, somehow, someway maintaining professionalism despite the burning of her cheeks. She’d never been spoken to so boldly. 

Roman’s gaze was assessing, causing Solana to suddenly regret bypassing picking up a new set of scrubs. Having gained some weight over the past few months, she found her work uniform a little too snug in all the places one wouldn’t want attention in. The same places his eyes seemed to focus on. “You’re too innocent to be here.” He spoke, proudly and easily not answering her questions. “Too pretty. Too damn fine.”

Solana cleared her throat. “Mr. Reigns—”

“Roman,” he interrupted. “Call me Roman.”

Oh, fuck.

Solana’s suddenly shaky hands moved to grab the stethoscope off the counter as she walked over to him, managing a quiet, “just relax.” The same advice she tried to tell herself in being so close to him, the scent of his cologne, strong and masculine, just as distracting as his perfect face and body. Solana assessed his vital signs, hearing nothing abnormal. 

Clearing her throat, she moved to step away only for him to grab her. She froze as he tugged her in between his spread legs.

Her stomach dropped. “Mr. Rei—”

“Shhhh.” His index finger moved against her lips. “Roman.” He corrected once more, just as his eyes lowered to her chest. His tongue dipped out, licking his bottom lip. Solana utilized all sense of self-control to keep her thighs from clamping together from such an innocent act. 

Eyes never leaving her, he stood up, slowly. The height difference between them enough to make her head crane back to maintain that contact. Why she would even want to maintain it? She hadn’t the slightest clue. 

Solana’s mouth went dry as Roman grabbed his orange discarded shirt, laying it on his muscled forearm. She went to back away, the distance between them too suffocating, too cumbersome. 

But, the minute she did, his hand was on the small of her back, holding her, keeping her near him. 

Her eyes shut when he lowered his head, mouth near her ear. “I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”

A whispered promise followed by a light slap of her ass before he separated from her, walking out the door without another word.

—------

Solana would love to say that was the one and only time that happened. 

But, that would be a lie.

A big, fat lie, because that man earned himself an undeserved visit to her medical bay more often than any other patient she’d ever had. And not once did he come with any medical necessity. His reason always the same. 

“I wanted to see you.”

To her credit, she tried her best to maintain those boundaries. Corrected him every time he called her “pretty girl.” Ignored him whenever he made an inappropriate comment or innuendo about her body. Avoiding him seeing the blush on her cheek when he referred to indecent acts.

She truly did her best, but with each visit, her resolve crumbled. A straight face slipped into a small, shy smile. Physically assessing him with her hands, while limited to the usual, medically approved checkpoints, shifted into something else. When he grabbed her wrist and slid her palm over his heart, it rested there for longer than what was necessary. 

The personal questions he asked shifted from being ignored into being answered, though some information was omitted.

And, the physical distance she did her best to keep between them minimized with each encounter. He was breaking her, and he knew it.

She thought of going to Stratus. Even briefly considered asking for a transfer. But, something about it, something about him, prevented her from doing so. Prevented her from putting an end to it all, because another part of her, a stupid, naive part liked it.

She liked the attention he gave her.

She liked him.

And almost a month into this game of cat or mouse, it all came to a head. 

—----

It was the usual routine of him lying and forcing his way into her space, but the air about it was different. It felt different. 

Right away, she knew he had other intentions.

Roman’s big body eclipsed her last glimpse of the door closing, the two guards outside of the room instead of one inside and one outside, as protocol dictated. 

A protocol that’d been disregarded from the moment he stepped foot into her infirmary.

But, instead of sitting on the bed as usual, he remained standing. Nearing her, watching and studying her.

Nothing but lust and desire dancing in his beautiful eyes. 

Solana swallowed, partially already knowing what was about to happen.

Didn’t stop her from asking.

“What—what are you doing?” A question that should have been laced with fear and concern. Roman is a monster. A cold-blooded killer whose ledger is soaked and dripping with blood. 

He was also standing directly in front of her. 

He said nothing at first, head tilted as he effectively backed her against the patient bed. Solana’s ass bumped into the end of said bed, preventing her from going anywhere. He had her boxed in. 

“Giving you exactly what you want.”

His answer was hard enough to process, followed by his big hands reaching down and grabbing her, lifting and placing her onto the edge of said bed. Solana gasped, going to scold him, “Mr. Reigns, this is inap—”

“Shut up.”

Solana would be lying if she tried to deny she hadn’t thought of what it would be like to kiss Roman. A monster he may be, but ugly, he most certainly is not. Visually speaking, tall, strong, dark, and handsome, he checks off every single box a woman could be looking for.

Except, she didn't push him off when he smashed his lips onto hers. Didn’t shove him away and scream for help, for one of the guards to restrain him and keep him away from her.

She pulled him closer, ignoring the smirk of his full lips into their passionate kiss. A kiss she found herself not wanting to end as he shoved his tongue into her mouth the same way he’d shoved himself into her life. Without request and without protest.

Solana moaned when his hands moved down to squeeze her breast, his thumb peppering over her hardened nipples that felt brick solid, poking against the fabric of her scrubs. 

Her attraction for him and enjoyment in their passionate make out couldn’t be denied even if she tried. So much so that she doesn’t bat an eye when that same hand previously groping her big breast jumped down to start tugging her pants off. 

Solana moaned into the kiss, as Roman expertly rid her of her scrubs, ripping them past her sneakers, that he also removed, all items discarded onto the floor. He pried his mouth from hers, full lips swollen, pink tongue darting out and glossing over his bottom lip. 

“Lay back.”

Two words. A single command. One response.

Never mind the consequences, the repercussions, the career ending outcome that could stem from such a major fuck up. A mishap or mistake were too watery of terms to use. Too downplaying of what should easily be the biggest regret of her life, because so much, all, stands to be lost with just one knock or entrance of the right—or wrong—person.

Fraternizing with the prisoners was one thing, but sexual conduct with said prisoners was entirely different.

Solana could lose her job, could lose her license, could lose everything she’s worked so hard for.

And, yet none of that prevented her from doing a damn thing to stop this man. 

Solana laid back on the patient bed, sitting up and resting her weight on her elbows as she watched him drop to his knees before her. Heart rate erratic, she lifted her hips just enough when he started tugging down her underwear. As expected, they were thrown to the wayside, just as her pants and shoes were. 

An inconvenient obstacle preventing him from his destination. 

His warm eyes lifted to hers at the same time he grabbed her by her calves, forcing her down on the bed and right onto his waiting mouth.

“Oh, fuck!”

Solana had always enjoyed this part of sex. Tried to enjoy it, at least. Consistent good head had always been hard to come across. It’d be great at first and lackluster every time after. Or, the usual of way too much theatrics and not enough actual performance.

None of that was the case with the man before her. 

Roman didn’t ease into anything. It seemed like a trait that felt applicable across several areas of his life. Including with sex. Because, he ate her pussy with a ravenous, carnal, sinful need. The sounds of him sucking and licking on her clit battling with the moans that left her mouth and the withering of her body on the bed. 

The minute his thick, talented tongue circled her sensitive nub, Solana was off her elbows and on her back, head reclined from the delicacy of his exquisite mouth on her most sacred parts. 

“Oh my God.”

Solana was too caught up in the bliss of it all to care when he pulled back, humming almost. “That’s it, sweetheart.” He brought his fingers to toy with her arousal, thick finger teasing her tight hole. “Fuck my face.”

It was only then Solana realized how her body moved against him, how one hand fisted in his hair, holding him right where she wanted him. To stay.

Forever.

“Shit, Roman,” she cursed when he went back to work, sucking and kissing her pussy like it was the best thing he’d ever been blessed to experience. “Don’t—don’t stop.”

He moaned against her, hands moving under her ass, tugging her even closer. Solana cried out from the euphoria of it all, continuing to grind against him, an eager, needy nympho for his fix. 

And, he continued to provide it, continuing to grace and grant her with a level of delight she never knew possible. Roman ate her out within an inch of her life, Solana’s attempts to pry him off her only met with him forcing her hands away, further burying his face into her safe haven. He continued to torture her, never retracting or stopping, even as her orgasm coursed through her, practically knocking the wind out of her.

Never in her life had she come so hard. 

Or so much. 

She was a discombobulated mess, the only thing pulling her from that post orgasmic daze was the sight of Roman lowering his orange pants and black boxers, freeing what had to be the biggest dick—outside of porn—that she’d ever seen.

The excitement and libido was momentarily altered by an understandable amount of trepidation.

“I—” Solana wasn’t quite sure how to say it, especially as he rubbed the massive mushroom head of his equally massive sized cock against her slippery, wet folds. “It’s—it’s not going to fit.”

She knew this well. Basic science and common sense. Maybe some fear as well.

A lot of fear.

There’s no way he could get that inside of her. Not without her landing in someone’s emergency room from vaginal tearing. If not worse.

But, her apprehension didn’t extend to him. Roman smirked in response to her overt concern. “Yes, it will.” He prompted with his chin, one hand stroking that beautiful, long dick. “Lay back.”

She swallowed. “Roman.”

“Trust me.”

Her eyes widened slightly. Trust him? She shouldn’t have even be doing that with the man, let alone trusting him to fuck her without causing great bodily harm. It was crazy. All of it. One of the most dangerous men in the world, serving a ten year prison sentence, a man who had run this place like he owned it since starting his sentence. A man who’d gradually made his way past her wall, albeit weak from the get-go, standing before her, about to fuck her in the infirmary where she was supposed to be working. Like the guards outside the door who were also supposed to be working but had turned a blind eye, like almost everyone has with Reigns’ outrageous conduct.

It was fucking ludicrous.

And yet, she did exactly as he directed.

She laid back, demonstrating an undeserved and unearned amount of trust. 

Her stomach doing all kinds of somersaults, also in battle with the desire that still coursed in the depths of her belly. The wonderful sensations that came from him continuing to coat his dick with her essence, their makeshift lube in absence of the actual product.

Not once did she think to ask about protection. Or anything else, really, because all she could think about and focus on was the immediate, almost painful feel of him as he started to enter her.

Her eyes clenched shut, her fingers gripping the bed underneath her. “Shit.” An almost burning sensation, something similar to what one experiences when being split or cut open.

An accurate description. 

Solana felt a shift and a sort of weight on top of her, followed by Roman’s soft, full lips on hers. Nasty, tongue kissing accompanied the gradual descent of him inside her, providing a salacious and needed distraction. Inch by inch, he stretched her walls, forcing her cunt to accommodate his big dick.

Solana clutched onto his shoulders, moaning into his mouth when he spoke against her lips, “that’s it….let me in, baby girl.” Her eyes didn’t need to be open to see the haughty expression on his face. It seeped through his deep voice. “Let me ruin you.”

Concerning words that should not evoke the kind of moan it did. But, it did. The same way Solana couldn’t stop herself from realizing at some point the pain and discomfort of her taking someone of his size and girth transcended into something delicious and pleasurable. That it moved into her rocking against him, eager for more and all of him.

Something most definitely noticed by the man above her.

“Am I in there?” A possibly rhetorical question that was followed up with a more demanding question. “Where am I? Tell me, baby.”

An easy question, but one that was a struggle to verbalize as Roman had eased into a slow and steady pace. Solana hugged him closer as one hand moved under her ass, holding her up a bit while he fucked her. 

“My—my stomach, oh my God.” The only answer she could provide, the one that felt the most truthful, cause God, he was so deep. If not for rolls and pudge of her belly, even more profound from the position they were in, she’s certain she could have seen his sizable dick driving into her. Balls and stomach deep.

“That’s right,” he growled. Solana’s head fell back, wincing when he kissed and bit down on her neck. Equally painful as it was delightful. “Can’t nobody fucking beat your shit up like this but me.”

Another true statement she couldn’t deny or even try to. Solana couldn’t do much of anything with the way he was pounding into her. Wild, animalistic, uncontrolled. 

Fucking into her with a sense of need and urgency. “Fuck, your pussy feels amazing.” He grunted, leaning over, sucking on her neck. “Tight ass cunt….”

Her thighs locked around his waist, hungry for him, begging to feel his dick continue to dive into her. She’d never had a sexual partner hit and feel as deep as Roman was and felt in her. “Keep fucking me like that.”

Roman’s smirk was loud and proud. “This what you been wanting?” His tone cocky and knowing as he flicked her nipples through her top. “Me to stretch this pussy?”

Her response was a moan as she gripped his arms, holding him tighter and closer. “Y–yes.”

He made a sound, hiking her up further, Solana crying out from the angle of the thrust. The tip of his dick repeatedly knocking into and nudging her g-spot. “God, yes, right there.” Words in Spanish tumbled out of her mouth at the way he rocked into her, over and over again, driving her mad with delectable ectasy.

“Pretty girl just wanted me to slut her out on my dick, huh?” More bragging. Well deserved, because the way he was digging her out, pounding into her, should be studied, framed, and preserved for all eternity. “Wanted to be fucked by a real man.”

Another undisputed fact. 

“Fuck.” His hissed curse drew her gaze to him, Solana biting down on her bottom lip at the sight. Eyes shut, tension evident by how he was clenching his jaw, he looked like he was enjoying it just as much as she was. And there was something empowering about that, something that got her off even more. Knowing that a man as powerful as him, in all the ways, could be brought to this level of bliss because of her.

It had to be what emboldened her to bring her hands to his face, forcing their swollen lips to lock once more as she demanded, “you like how my pussy feels, baby?” Such an uncharacteristic thing for her to say, in the middle of being fucked numb, or not. Regardless, it’s exactly what she said. 

Roman’s response was to grind his hips against her, as he answered almost darkly. “Yes.” Solana nearly came right then and there from a single answer. “The Tribal Chief loves it.”

Another orgasm inducing acknowledgment that had that familiar sensation building and budding inside her. “Roman…”

“I know,” was his only response. He could feel it, too. “Not yet.” He said more to himself than her. “I’m not ready...”

Solana had a good feeling about what he was referring to, but it did nothing to slow down the autonomous response of her body. Unless he stopped fucking her like that, there was no stopping it. 

A whimper left her mouth as she dug her nails into his cheek, their foreheads pressed against each other. “I can’t….”

“Yes, you can,” he encouraged, slowing down the pace of his thrusts. She couldn't tell if that helped or hurt. “Don’t come on daddy’s dick just yet, pretty girl.” The ‘pretty girl’ most definitely didn’t help. It never did. “Let me feel this good ass pussy a lil’ longer…”

She wouldn’t be opposed to feeling his good ass dick inside her a lil’ longer as well, but wants oftentimes can’t stand up against needs. And, what she needed was to come.

More than she’d ever come before. 

It felt almost impossible, but Roman talked her through it. Kept her from tipping over the edge just long enough, so that he could catch up with and reach her, where they could climax together. And, they did. God, they did. Solana holding onto him, mouth ajar, connection to reality momentarily severed. Her orgasm was otherworldly. Too good and grand for her to even put into words, to be fully, physically, emotionally, and spiritually present.

All so earth and world shattering that it never even occurred to her how Roman came inside of her. Ropes of his cum, combined with her own, filling and spilling out over her used and battered pussy. 

She was partially cognizant to when he eventually pulled out of her, dazed look in his eyes as he brought his finger to her vagina, pushing some of their cum back inside. 

But, she was very aware when he used that same hand and brought his hand to grab her jaw, squeezing just enough to force her mouth open. That same hand, those fingers, still with their juices on it, entered her mouth. The unspoken command obvious. 

Solana sucked his fingers dry. 

Imagining it was that big, beautiful dick of his instead.

His look of pride at her obedience was followed by him removing said fingers. His mouth back on her, Solana shared the taste of them on her tongue and lips. An erotic, nasty exchange of sorts that had her pussy fluttering. 

It was all so kinky.

Roman broke the kiss, looking down at her with something she couldn’t name, but something that had her both aroused and fearful. 

And with all the conviction in the world, he laid his claim. “You’re mine now.”

—-----------

That first time was the start of something inescapable and avoidable.

Something sinful and forbidden.

An affair.

Four months deep, even if Solana wanted to get out, she couldn’t. It’s a known, open secret among several of her coworkers and colleagues. Something that once shamed her, embarrassed her. Now, she can’t seem to think or see straight beyond Roman. 

Even now, as she sits in the trailer, the place intended for prisoners who have an exemplary record, who have completed the Extended Family Visits (EFV) Program, that allows prisoners to have family time with loved ones in this separate space on prison grounds. 26 hours to live as normal a life as possible.

It’s a resource Roman has now commandeered for their alone time, adding to their visits that still happen at least three times a week.

For almost four months now, this has been the routine. Short, not as long meetings in the prison followed up with the Friday into Saturday she spends with him in the trailer almost weekly.

The closest sense of normalcy she’ll ever receive in such a fucked up situation.

But, the moment Roman arrives, she knows. 

Knows that something is wrong.

He’s upset with her. She can tell from the minute he walks in. Big body and tall frame almost too large for the trailer. Nicer and even bigger than the average, it’s just too small for him. Too simple. Too basic. A man like Roman demands and requires only the best of things. 

A difficult task, however, given the situation he’s in.

The situation they’re in.

He heads straight to the shower, which is the norm for him. However, what’s not the norm is the way he doesn’t even ask—or tell—her to join him. That’s usually how they kick things off. In the shower. Her washing him. Him washing her, and then her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounds into her her, her on her her knees, her body propped up against the wall, then on the bathroom counter, and eventually into the bedroom.

The normal trajectory of things. 

But, not tonight.

No, tonight is clearly bound to be different.

For a minute, Solana considers just leaving. It’s obvious he’s in a mood, and she doesn’t feel much better herself. It’s probably just best if she goes home. The smart thing. The right thing.

She doesn’t do it.

She remains there, sitting and waiting on the bed, wearing an old Selena shirt, a gift from her cousin back when they were in college.

And, she waits. For what, she’s not entirely sure anymore.

She just waits.

Roughly 25 minutes pass from the time he entered the trailer and the minute he walks out of the bathroom, nothing but a thick white towel wrapped around his waist. He’d clearly used another to dry his hair as best as possible given its damp, but not wet, appearance.

He stands at the end of the bed, ringlets of water dripping and traveling down his body, that sculpted, divine, fine work of the Gods. And, he looks at her. Says nothing. Just looks.

Suddenly exhausted and minimally frustrated, Solana runs her hands through her blown out hair. “Roman—

“Did you fuck him?”

And now, she’s looking at him. Of all the things he could say, of all the things he could ask, that….that was most definitely not on her list.

Confused, but maybe not, she asks, “what?”

 “You should know by now I don’t like repeating myself.” His expression is hardened. The perfect match for his voice. “The same way I don’t like when people lie to me.”

Both things that she knows. Solana has treated the brutal, gruesome wounds of the men who had to learn one or both of those lessons the hard way. And yet, she remains staunch in her partial confusion. “Roman, I don’t—” She’s silenced by him grabbing her ankle, yanking her down to the end of the bed. The action causes her shirt to scrunch up, revealing her blue thong.

His favorite color.

Not that she wore it for him. No….not at all.

Roman’s gaze briefly drifts to that same thong, and she sees the flash of desire that builds only to be squashed by frustration. “Don’t test me, Solana.” A dangerously delivered warning combined with his hand loosening its hold, only for him to gradually move it upward. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Her eyes never leave his traveling hand. “F–find out what?”

He stops only for a second. “You’re a terrible fucking liar.”

Solana says nothing, unable to disagree. She’s heard variations of the same thing over the years. Doesn’t mean she’s willing to cave.

“I know you went out last weekend with your friends.” And, there it is. Though startled, she remains unmoving. “That you went clubbing.” There’s an undeniable disdain in his delivery of that last word. A marked contrast to his hand that’s now in between her thighs, fingers hovering around the perimeter of her thong. “That you were dancing and talking to some piece of shit.”

All things she can’t and won’t deny, partially because it’s true, mostly because it’s practically impossible to focus with his hand so close to her pussy.

“So, I’m only going to ask you one more time, sweetheart.” Her eyes shut, lips parted, mouth drying as he travels his thick, long fingers past the band on her thong, collecting and playing with her arousal. “Did you fuck him?”

The him comes out at the same time he moves two fingers inside of her, evoking only a moan for a response. 

It’s the wrong answer. 

Solana cries out in protest when he hastily retracts his fingers, leaving her yearning and wanting more. 

“Ro—”

“Shut up.” An angry silencer accompanied by his big hands moving to grab her hips, tugging her forward even more and hurriedly turning her over. Solana is hoisted up on the bed, guided on her hands and knees. 

“Ro—”

Solana is once again silenced, but not by his words this time. By that same big hand coming down on her backside, the sound echoing throughout the room, her ass jiggling in the recoil. 

“I said shut the fuck up,” he reiterates. There’s not going to be a third repeating. A mixture of confusion and excitement fills her at feeling and hearing him move behind her. The drop of the towel from around his waist, the way he snatches and rips her underwear clean off her body. His moan that’s followed by her own as he drags his thick dickhead up and down her folds, collecting her arousal.

It’s all so dysfunctional and wrong.

And, she loves it all.

A loud shout and moan falls out her mouth the minute he plunges his long, girthy dick inside of her. No build up. No preparation. Just the massive intrusion of his sizable member in her tight opening. 

And, he’s relentless. 

Solana’s body jerks back and forth from the force of his thrusts. Angry. Possessive. Jealous. 

“Roman,” she moans. “Baby, please.” One hand reaching back to push him away is quickly snatched and held against her lower back as he starts fucking her harder.

“You’re mine,” he growls, leaning over, deepening the feel of the delicious dick inside of her. It hurts so good, feels so bad in all of the right, wonderful ways. “You belong to me.”

More possessive statements accompanied by his hips slamming against her big, round ass, jerking in and out of her, like each thrust is another assurance of his ownership. “Your pussy is mine.”

A decree followed up with a switching of his pace. Roman opts for slower, deeper thrusts, his hips grinding against her as one hand goes to slap her ass once more.

Solana moans, head down on the pillow, her other hand snatched and restricted behind her back. He’s got her pinned down as he continues to fuck into her like a man on a mission.

“Did you give him my pussy?” There’s an edge to his voice, like anything but the right answer could easily send him over the edge.

And, it just might. 

“N–no,” she finally answers, praying the truth of her response translates despite the weariness of her voice. He always fucks her in a way that makes her feel so exhausted. “It’s—it’s your pussy, baby.”

His. All his. Every part of her. The good, the bad, the somewhere in between.

His.

“That’s right,” he grunts. Solana’s eyes burn with unshed tears. Never in her life has she been fucked like this. Fucked so good. It’s almost impossible to resist. To deny him this. To deny herself this. “Who do you belong to?”

She’s about to reply when he frees one of her hands only to fist her hair, forcing her up, head back, burning gaze on her. “I asked you a question.”

An easy answer but a difficult answer given how he’s fucking her right now. “Y—you, baby. I’m—I’m your—shit—only y–yours, Ro.”

“Damn right,” he huffs, releasing her hair. Roman moves her shirt up, exposing her big, heavy breast, gripping them, fingers playing with her nipples. “My pretty girl is mine and only mine.”

Eyes fluttering closed from being fucked numb, she can only blindly nod and agree, stuttering from the impact of his unforgiving his pace. “Y–yes, daddy.”

Head lolling back against his chest, Solana moves her hands atop his as he continues to grope and play with her titties.

His mouth near her ear, kissing and nibbling, his deep voice rumbles, “you’re gonna give me a baby.” If not for her sex fueled haze, Solana would have done a double take. Eyes wide, mouth ajar for an entirely different reason. “Gonna fill this tight, little cunt up with my seed and put a baby in you. My baby.”

Crazy.

She should call him crazy. Delusional, even. But, she can’t. She can’t, because his statement isn’t also sex fueled, the result of being caught in the throes of passion. 

It comes from her.

Came from her.

Was a request straight from her mouth.

Solana had asked Roman to give her a child, to give them a child. Has done nothing to prevent said child from occurring organically given the numerous times she’s let this man come all in her without a single form of protection.

“That’s what you want, right?” He taunts, his heavy balls slapping against her from the force of his thrusts. “Me to put a baby in you? Why you let me come in you every time?”

Truthful words that should bring her to shame. But, they don’t. They just turn her on even more.

“Yes, Ro.” She moans, ass moving in tandem with him, swallowing his dick with the hunger the fills them both. “Oh, fuck, you fuck me so good, baby.”

“That’s right.” His hand squeezes her booty, jiggling and slapping it once more. “My pretty girl is a dirty cum slut for me and only me.”

Continuance of filthy truths that reveal all the ugly, tainted things about herself that only become evident when she’s with him. The secrets of her desires that could only come to the light because of him. The things she’s not sure how to get back into the box.

Or, if she even wants them to. 

As he does most times, Roman puts her in any and all positions he wants to. On her hands and knees. Propped up on his dick as he watches her ride him. From the front and back. On her back. On her knees as she deepthroats him till she's on the brink of vomiting. Her knees up against her chest, juxtaposed to her ears. One leg over his shoulder, the other held up against his waist as he relentlessly pounds into her. It never stops. His sex drive is endless, his hunger and desire for her is insatiable. Always has been.

It’s only when she tells him she’s too sore, that the pleasure is completely gone, pain and discomfort the only sensations she has left inside of her is when he lets up off her. A constant thing. The minute it’s no longer pleasurable for her has always been his stopping point. 

As intense and dominating he can be in the bedroom, he’s always been mindful and respectful of her consent. When she says stop, he listens. 

Every single time.

When she taps out for good, he accepts it.

And, she is completely tapped out. 

Roman carries her to the bathroom where he turns on the shower, bringing her under the running water as he washes her and then himself. A type of gentleness that’s a stark contrast to almost everything else about him, but a normal thing when it’s just the two of them. Both clean and cleansed from the mess they’d made of themselves, he kisses her forehead and brings her back into the bedroom. An extra blanket is laid over the bed, over the other mess that was made.

He lays her down first before climbing into bed with her, another clean blanket on top of them. Solana presses her naked, clean body against his own, head on his chest as he kisses her temple, encouraging her to rest.

And while her body enjoys the much needed respite, her mind cannot.

She can’t find a way to settle her many, racing thoughts at this. At all of it.

Madness.

This whole thing is a type of madness that makes no sense when she’s not with him and all the sense when it’s just him. That’s the power this man has over her. Solana can’t see or think straight when it’s Roman. He’s clouded her judgment, turned her into a version of herself even she can’t recognize.

She’s yet to tell if that’s a good or bad thing.

It’s all bad, according to Jade, Solana’s older cousin and confidant. 

Well, prior.

Because the minute Solana made the mistake of confiding in the woman she thought she could tell anything, she learned just how wrong she was. 

“Solana, have you lost your goddamn mind? You’re fucking a prisoner? A mafia boss at that?”

That was probably the nicest of the response she received. Everything else was a lot of judgment and lack of understanding. Or, trying to understand, at least.

Needless to say, the conversation didn’t go well, and every outreach attempt Solana has made in the weeks that have passed have gone without a response.

It hurts. For sure. But, Solana can understand. 

Jade also works as a nurse in the local hospital and most likely doesn’t want it to get out that she knew about this illegal, forbidden affair and played any part. Distance is probably for the best.

But, the conversation and aftermath did get Solana thinking. Forced her to consider all she stands to lose should this ever reach that point, and not even her professional standing and achievements.

Her family. 

What would they think of her? They’d be disappointed for sure. 

The child her family never had to worry about suddenly boosted to the top of that worry list.

A dangerous thought that led her stumbling into even more dangerous territory.

Solana will never say she has a bad family. Ever. She loves her parents. Loves her siblings. Her family is good.

However, the youngest of five siblings, some of them hitting rough patches at various points in life, there were definitely moments where she just felt….there. Like, she was just another member of the family. Another Miller kid. The “good” Miller kid. The one who always had it together, for the most part, thus not needing as much attention from her parents who were already stretched thin from their other children. 

And, that was pretty much the dynamic her entire life. Solana did well, did okay, and that was that. Her parents would acknowledge they were proud, but it almost always felt like a distant thing. Like, they were saying it as a pleasantry, distracted, too busy helping out DJ with his custody battle for his daughter. Occupied with finding Isabella a good therapist for her anxiety. Stressed out by Zuri and her refusal to comply. 

Solana was just the child they never had to worry about which, unfortunately, translated into her being the child that often felt forgotten about.

Enter: Roman Reigns.

The attention of a man like him is one thing. The interest is something entirely different. 

And, she’s managed to nab both. He should be the last person she wants to see and be intrigued by her, but that’s exactly what’s happened. Not only does Roman make her feel seen and heard, he makes her feel wanted, something she didn’t realize she lacked so deeply until him.

He makes her feel cared for.

Protected. Another, interesting, sad thing she also never realized she was missing, wanting, yearning for. 

Like the guard, Knight something, who continued to pester and bother Solana, even going as far as groping her ass as she walked past him one day. An impossible, unavoidable situation as he’d been there for years compared to her six months. Something she just accepted she’d have to tolerate.

She was wrong.

Because not even 24hrs after Roman happened to catch a glimpse of the harassment she was dealing with, Knight was found dead in a prisoner’s cell. Beaten to death. Castrated. Eyes gouged out. 

A gruesome ending for a man she couldn’t find herself feeling sorry for after learning he had a record of harassing nurses. And sexually assaulting female inmates at the prison he worked at before then.

Ignoring his willingness to kill or have people killed for her, which probably should disturb her more than it does, Solana could talk to Roman for hours and never tire. Because his gaze is always on her, eye contact consistent, attention devoted solely to and on her. She can’t count how many times she’d be trying to talk to her parents or siblings about something, anything, only for them to always find something more important to redirect their focus to. 

“I’m sorry, Sola.”

“There’s just a lot going on, sweetie.”

“Can we talk about this some other time? We will. I promise. I’m just….”

Reasons, when she was younger. 

Excuses, now, at 27. 

And, she doesn’t fault them, isn’t upset with them. It’s just realizing what void that caused for her is such an experience, especially when that void has been filled—and more—by a man ten years her senior and miles beyond what and who she usually goes for.

Amenable. Introverted. Lover of the arts. All qualities she could use to describe her exes, none of which could describe Roman.

Strong. Quiet. Brutal. There’s a strength about him she admires and gravitates to that has nothing to do with his massive build and rippling muscles. A story behind those warm brown eyes she could most definitely get used to waking up to. A man beneath the thing that is Roman Reigns. 

A…..a man who, in the throes of chaos and destruction, sometimes seeks the silence and calm. A space she knows she provides him. 

“It’s simple with you.” He’d once said as they lay in bed together, his strong arms around her, her head on his chest. Her fingers danced across the plane of his stomach.

Something told her he wasn’t talking about the silence of the room they lay in, either.

At the very beginning, she tried to tell herself he didn’t care. That she was nothing more than a source of entertainment for a man who has nothing better to do while waiting to be released from a sentence he “shouldn't” even be serving in the first place.

That thought process helped her justify her outrageous behavior just a little.  

But, it was a thought that quickly started to be debunked when things started happening. 

Like her being at home, in her quaint little apartment, only to receive a knock at her door one day with a delivery. Beautiful pink roses from the local florist. A card attached that simply read.

For my pretty girl.

-R

Moving past the shock of such a thoughtful gesture, Solana chalked it up to a singular act of kindness. Underserved, in her mind. But, appreciated, nonetheless.

And, then it happened again.

More flowers. 

Flowers morphed into gifts. Expensive gifts. Someone who had a few select Kate Spade bags and a Michael Kors backpack gifted during college, Solana found herself on the receiving end of designer brands so fancy she couldn’t pronounce. And, the flowers remained a weekly thing as well, something she valued slightly more than the six to seven figure gifts. 

Because he’d asked her what she liked, and she’d told him flowers. She told him, and he remembered. Not only did he remember, but he’d seemingly made it a mission of his to make it a thing. To make a small act of kindness a thing of normalcy. 

And while she tried her best to not make too much of it, a man in prison showing her more adoration and appreciation compared to any of her exes, who were most definitely not serving a decade long sentence, is something she can’t avoid. 

Can’t not acknowledge.

Doesn’t mean she hasn’t tried, because she has.

Solana has tried to break free from the addiction that is Roman Reigns.

Tried to avoid him as much as possible. A difficult thing on so many levels. Especially when he always seems to find a way inside of her infirmary and especially inside of her.

It was why she went out last weekend. Willing to test out that age old theory regarding how the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. 

It didn’t work. It was, somewhat, even as she made out with the random man whose name she can’t really remember. Melo, or something like that. But, the minute he started “stroking” her and boasting about how good it probably felt, it was a wrap.

Her thigh. He was stroking her thigh.

Solana went home alone that night, left early, needing to just be away from it all.

But, the fact that Roman knew about some of it, clearly not everything, comes at no surprise.

She knows he has people watching her. Has noticed the cars parked outside her parking complex. Seen the men that are almost always in not too far distance whenever she goes out. Even at the club that night.

He has a security detail on her. 

Has had one on her for a while now. 

Ever since that happened.

A fight broke out among inmates. Nothing out of the norm. A few were injured, hence several being transferred to medical. For some reason, she’s still unsure as to exactly how, a few of the prisoners weren’t properly secured. They weren’t shackled or cuffed, and it was as Solana went to disinfect a cut on one of them, he headbutted and punched her so hard that it knocked her out cold. 

Solana came to hours later in the local hospital where she wasn’t released until the next morning, being treated for what she considered minor injuries. Though the nasty bruise that marred the left side of her face was far from minor.

As recommended by Dr. Stratus, she took the next few days off. It felt a bit unnecessary. Solana didn’t feel too impacted by what occurred. Having been in the nursing field a few years now, she’d seen and experienced a lot. It wasn’t necessarily the first time she’d been hurt on the job, but it also wasn’t something that kept her up. That had her feeling traumatized.

There was some level of anxiety when she returned to work a few days later, but it quickly subsided when she learned that same prisoner who attacked her was dead.

Found tortured and murdered in his cell.

That shook her a bit. But, not as much when Roman was brought to the infirmary, her room, and the first thing she noticed was the scraped skin of his knuckles. For all of the many times he finessed his way into coming to see her, never had he actually come with anything requiring any kind of medical attention.

And even then, there wasn’t much that needed to be done outside of some disinfecting.

But, he didn’t seem to give two shits about that. 

He only seemed concerned with her. The minute the guards closed the door, he was before her. His big hands gently cupping her face, carefully turning her head to the side, examining the bruise that not even her most full coverage foundation could conceal.

His expression was a mixture of fury and regret. But, the fury couldn’t be felt not one bit as he pulled her into him, Solana initially confused but easily melting into comfort. She relished being in his strong embrace.

He kissed the top of her head, holding her, voice low and heavy with something unknown. “I’m sorry.”

To this day, she doesn’t know what exactly he was sorry for. She just knows that ever since that day, she’s had a security detail. It felt a little unnecessary and not even applicable, given she was injured on the job. Her “bodyguards” of sorts can’t really do anything to protect her when she’s on the clock.

But, Roman can.

It’s why she put two and two together, realizing Roman himself killed the man who hurt her. Every other life he’d claimed had been done indirectly. He’d used and ordered other people to carry out his fatal orders. But, this time….this time, he took it into his own hands.

He used his own hands to end the man’s life. Violently. Brutally. Graphically.

Why?

For her.

To send a clear message regarding what happens to anyone who dared to touch or try to hurt her.

Solana isn’t entirely certain, but she has a nagging suspicion that that was the moment it happened. 

The moment she realized she was falling in love with Roman.

Roman, for all his faults, and there are many, is good to her. He protects her and gives her a sense of belonging. Makes her feel wanted, something she didn’t really realize she was craving so deeply until him. 

Where she always just felt one of many with her family. With him, she’s one of one. She’s all he sees and all he wants. 

The same way she feels about him.

While the sex is phenomenal and in the plenty whenever it’s just the two of them, he talks to and with her. Asks about her, about how she’s doing. He’s always been so interested and intrigued about all the things that make her her. And, he commits it all to memory. Locks it away for sake keeping and points of retrieval. If she casually mentions working on an art piece, the next time they’ll see each other, he’ll ask how it’s going.

If she mentions not feeling the best during an interaction at the prison, their EFV visit won’t be used for a “sexscapade.” They’ll talk, she’ll learn more about him, he learns about her. It’s almost entirely domestic. He won’t touch her, unless she asks, and even then, he’s intent on making sure that she’s sure it’s what she wants.

And, it’s those moments that make her realize somewhere along the way, she stopped falling in love with Roman Reigns. 

She’s in love with Roman Reigns.

It’s all so fucked up. Everything about it. But, she’s too far gone, too deep into it to turn back now. 

And a part of her still worries that this is all performative. That he’s saying and doing all the things he knows she wants to hear and receive just to get what he wants from her. That the moment Roman is finally released will be the moment she never hears or speak to him again. He’ll be back on his throne, and she’ll be left all alone, heartbroken, life in ruins, trying to put it all the shattered pieces back together.

Potentially with a baby in her stomach.

It’s a reality she should probably consider more than she does, if at all, but it’s a reality she refuses to acknowledge. 

If that ends up being the devastating case, she’ll cross that bridge when they get there. When she gets there. Until then, she’ll enjoy this. Enjoy him. Enjoy them.

Because she’d give her all for him. 

Even if just to be a distant memory.

[the-hittite]

I never actually sat down and talked to Benny before. My first run through the game he bamboozled me good and every run after that I'd just kill him. This time around I'm making an effort to engage with the lore and characters closer so I made sure to hear him out completely.

I'm actually really surprised at how, well, sane he makes it all sound. I always just assumed he was a power hungry despot and there's definitely some of that in there. But his main motivation for overthrowing House is that he genuinely believes he'd make a better leader. Not because he thinks he's smarter or anything but because he actually knows how to lead. House leads Vegas the same way he ran his corporation. Invest capital, broker favorable deals, appoint competent subordinates, and then sit back and collect the profits. Problem is that his "employees" were tribals less than a decade ago and weren't raised in a corporate hierarchy. To them, this hands off approach looks at best like carelessness and at worst like an intentional insult. I'm finally starting to understand why the Omertas call him "Not-At-Home."

And the irony of the situation is that thanks to all of his scheming, Benny himself is disappearing for days or even weeks at a time and it's weakening his peoples' confidence in him. To the point that any brain damaged yahoo with a Speech of 45 can convince them to sell him out. Benny and House are more alike than either wants to admit.

But what really gets me is that the little shit bamboozled me again. He actually had me going with all that talk about working with him to take down House. I've been playing this game and engaging with the fandom for at least a decade. I should have known for an absolute fact that there was absolutely no way to side with him but the smooth talking son of a bitch actually had me doubting myself right up until the moment the guards came in. Absolutely fucking incredible. Babygirl of all time. I might actually let him live.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Margery E. Beck at AP:

A new South Dakota policy to stop the use of gender pronouns by public university faculty and staff in official correspondence is also keeping Native American employees from listing their tribal affiliations in a state with a long and violent history of conflict with tribes.

Two University of South Dakota faculty members, Megan Red Shirt-Shaw and her husband, John Little, have long included their gender pronouns and tribal affiliations in their work email signature blocks. But both received written warnings from the university in March that doing so violated a policy adopted in December by the South Dakota Board of Regents. “I was told that I had 5 days to remove my tribal affiliation and pronouns,” Little said in an email to The Associated Press. “I believe the exact wording was that I had ‘5 days to correct the behavior.’ If my tribal affiliation and pronouns were not removed after the 5 days, then administrators would meet and make a decision whether I would be suspended (with or without pay) and/or immediately terminated.” The policy is billed by the board as a simple branding and communications policy. It came only months after Republican Gov. Kristi Noem sent a letter to the regents that railed against “liberal ideologies” on college campuses and called for the board to ban drag shows on campus and “remove all references to preferred pronouns in school materials,” among other things.

All nine voting members of the board were appointed by Noem, whose remarks in March accusing tribal leaders of benefitting from illegal drug cartels and not properly caring for children has prompted most South Dakota tribes to ban her from their land. South Dakota’s change comes in the midst of a conservative quest to limit diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives gaining momentum in state capitals and college governing boards around the country, with about one-third of the states taking some sort of action against it. Policies targeting gender pronoun use have focused mainly on K-12 students, although some small religious colleges have also restricted pronoun use. Houghton University in western New York fired two dorm directors last year after they refused to remove gender pronouns from their work email signatures.

South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem (R) and her appointed state Board of Regents enacted a extreme prejudicial policy that is anti-freedom of speech by barring employees from using pronouns and tribal affiliations in email signatures.

This is a naked act of hate and erasure against indigenous peoples and the LGBTQ+ community in The Mount Rushmore State.

[fatehbaz]

“Is it green energy if it’s impacting cultural traditional sites?”

Yakama Nation Tribal Councilman Jeremy Takala sounded weary. For five years, tribal leaders and staff have been fighting a renewable energy development that could permanently destroy tribal cultural property. “This area, it’s irreplaceable.”

The privately owned land, outside Goldendale, Washington, is called Pushpum, or “mother of roots,” a first foods seed bank. The Yakama people have treaty-protected gathering rights there. One wind turbine-studded ridge, Juniper Point, is the proposed site of a pumped hydro storage facility. But to build it, Boston-based Rye Development would have to carve up Pushpum — and the Yakama Nation lacks a realistic way to stop it.

Back in October 2008, unbeknownst to Takala, Scott Tillman, CEO of Golden Northwest Aluminum Corporation, met with the Northwest Power and Conservation Council, a collection of governor-appointed representatives from Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Montana [...]. Tillman, who owned a shuttered Lockheed Martin aluminum smelter near Goldendale, told the council about the contaminated site’s redevelopment potential, specifically for pumped hydro storage [...]. Shortly thereafter, Klickitat County’s public utility department tried to implement Tillman’s plan [...].

Meanwhile, Tillman cleaned up and sold another smelting site, just across the Columbia River in The Dalles, Oregon, a Superfund site where Lockheed Martin had poisoned the groundwater with cyanide. He sold it to Google’s parent company, Alphabet, which operates water-guzzling data centers in The Dalles and plans to build more. For nine years, the county and Rye plotted the fate of Pushpum — without ever notifying the Yakama Nation.

The tribal government only learned of the development in December 2017, when the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) issued a public notice of acceptance for Rye’s preliminary permit application. Tribal officials had just 60 days to catch up on nine years of development planning and issue their initial concerns and objections as public comments. [...]

When the tribe objected, FERC said it could file more public comments to the docket instead of consulting. [...]

When asked what Rye could offer the Yakama people as compensation for the irreversible destruction of their cultural property, Steimle suggested “employment associated with the project.” [...] Presented with the reality that Yakama people might not want Rye’s jobs, Steimle hesitated. “Yeah, I mean I, I can’t argue that — maybe it won’t be meaningful to them.” [...]

Klickitat County’s eagerness creates another barrier to the Yakama Nation. In Washington, a developer can take one of two permitting paths: through the state’s Energy Facility Site Evaluation Council, or through county channels. Both lead to FERC. In this case, working with the county benefits Rye: Klickitat, a majority Republican county, has a contentious relationship with the Yakama Nation [...]. “Klickitat County refuses to work with us,” said Takala. [...]

Fighting Rye's proposal has required the efforts of tribal attorneys, archaeologists and government staffers from a number of departments. [...]

And Rye’s project is just one of dozens proposed within the Yakama Nation’s 10 million-acre treaty territory. Maps from the tribe and the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife show that of the 51 wind and solar projects currently proposed statewide — not including geothermal or pumped hydro storage projects, which are also renewable energy developments — at least 34 are on or partially on the Yakama Nation’s ceded lands.

---

Headline, images, graphics, captions, and text by: B. Toastie Oaster (High Country News). “Green colonialism is flooding the Pacific Northwest.” As published at The Wenatchee World. 25 March 2023.

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Steven Zeitchik

Those comments sparked a backlash at the time. But many liberal Jews in Hollywood, media and tech identified with her remarks.

To some non-Jews I talked to, today’s news was just a case of a tribal rooting interest not going our way. “Oh well, you’ll get the next one,” went their vibe. But when a Jewish leader this popular from a state so necessary gets passed over, it becomes more than just a matter of losing a round of identity-politics poker — it touches an existential nerve.

Some Jews have also noted that in choosing Walz, Harris was simply trying to stay away from raising Gaza as an issue. But outside of antisemitic projection, why would it do that? The idea that a candidate would automatically want to talk more about Israel simply because he’s Jewish raises ugly tropes of dual loyalty, or worse.

Wary of seeming killjoyish, some liberal Jewish Americans also sought to find a silver lining — at least now Jews wouldn’t be blamed for administration failures, they said. They cited The Atlantic’s Yair Rosenberg, one of the most eloquent expositors of the double standards applied to Shapiro, who in a recent piece expressed some reservations about what a Shapiro vice presidency would bring.

“Anti-Semitism conceives of Jews as clandestine puppeteers who control the world’s governments and economies, fueling political and social problems,” he wrote. “A Jewish vice president would provide the perfect canvas for these fevered fantasies — a largely ceremonial figure onto whom bigots could nonetheless project all of their conspiracies, casting him as the real power behind the Resolute Desk.”

Rosenberg has forgotten more about the history of antisemitism than most of us will ever know. But this train of thought has always struck me as self-defeating. The response to fears of prejudice can’t be, “Let’s hide the Jews to prevent us from finding out about it.” 

A Jewish vice president would have been important not only because it would have signaled the latest progress of one ethnic group in America as thrillingly as Harris’ candidacy does for Americans of Black and Indian heritage, but also because it would have drawn antisemites out from the crevices, shining Louis Brandeis’ disinfecting light brightly upon them.

(That Harris’ husband is Jewish, incidentally, should do little to quell the unease. Jewish affiliations are proof of nothing except the reminder of past justifications. It calls to mind those who several years ago said Taika Waititi’s Nazi comedy Jojo Rabbit couldn’t be antisemitic because Waititi was Jewish. It wasn’t antisemitic. But that wasn’t the reason.)

Walz is a solid candidate with a strong record of speaking out against antisemitism. Just this spring he told Twin Cities PBS that, “I think when Jewish students are telling us they feel unsafe in that, we need to believe them.”

But Walz’s pro-Jewish bona fides don’t mean the decision to put him on the ticket — or the reaction to his appointment — can’t also be shadowed with antisemitism. Both can be true.

And so here liberal Jews again find ourselves, hopelessly marooned between a belief that Democratic policies are fundamentally better for our interests and yet worried we are not welcome in our own home — feeling a gentle nudge that perhaps we might find ourselves more comfortable in another place but unsure, in the end, of where else to go.

[tomorrowusa]

So Donald Trump will appoint South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem as Secretary of Homeland Security.

The Department of Homeland Security oversees the Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agency, making the department one of the most important in Trump’s efforts to deport millions of undocumented immigrants from the US. Noem was elected governor in 2018 and won re-election in 2022.

Noem is the sort of person you'd expect Donald Trump to pick for high government positions.

She was seen as one of the top contenders to be Trump’s running mate until excerpts from her book No Going Back were published, in which she wrote about shooting her 14-month-old dog Cricket, arguing that it was “untrainable.” The excerpts were published in April of this year by The Guardian.

In addition to being a dog shooter, she falsely claimed to have met North Korean dictator (and Trump bro) Kim Jong-un.

The press got ahold of an early version of No Going Back which included the claim that Noem met with Kim Jong Un. “I remember when I met with North Korean dictator Kim Jong Un. I’m sure he underestimated me, having no clue about my experience staring down little tyrants (I’d been a children’s pastor, after all),” she wrote, according to The New York Times. “Dealing with foreign leaders takes resolve, preparation, and determination.” After the account was questioned, a spokesperson for Noem said that the story shouldn’t have been included and that it would be removed before it was published, according to Newsweek.

After insulting Native Americans, Noem was banned from tribal lands in her own state.

After claiming that some of them had been infiltrated by drug cartels, Noem was banned from the lands of all nine of South Dakota’s Native American tribes this year, Newsweek noted. [ ... ] Oglala Sioux Tribe President Frank Star Comes Out told the AP that “our people are being used for her political gain.”

And most recently, she was Trump's sidekick at that "town hall" in Oaks, Pennsylvania where Trump abruptly stopped taking questions and instead swayed to his playlist for 39 minutes.

But shooting her dog Cricket is the thing that will stick in most people's minds. So here's a simple meme you can use whenever Noem's name pops up in the news.

[mariacallous]

President Trump’s Department of Government Efficiency has cut through the federal government aggressively, firing employees across agencies while testing legal boundaries. The speed of the cuts raises questions about how well DOGE teams understand the roles and responsibilities of those affected. Unsurprisingly, as key political appointees are confirmed by the Senate and take office—and as Republican lawmakers gain points of contact—some early, hasty decisions are being reversed. Here are some examples so far.

The most significant reversal came on Feb. 24, when the White House, through the Office of Personnel Management, announced that Elon Musk’s directive for all federal employees to email him a summary of their work for the week was voluntary only and that noncompliance would not result in termination. Some MAGA leaders, including newly appointed FBI Director Kash Patel, instructed their employees not to comply. Similar orders came from the Departments of Defense, Homeland Security, Justice, Health and Human Services, Energy, and the State Department.

The reversal came not only due to legal concerns but also because the order was impractical for large parts of the government. For instance, the Secret Service agents protecting President Trump probably carried out numerous tasks in preparation for his upcoming trips—should that be reported? What about undercover agents abroad? Should they document efforts to recruit assets or spies? And FBI agents working to infiltrate the infamous Sinaloa drug cartel—should they be required to write memos that could compromise their operations?

Earlier DOGE reversals include the dismissal of more than 300 employees from the National Nuclear Safety Administration on Feb. 13. By Feb. 18, however, the vast majority of them were in the process of being rehired. The agency, part of the Department of Energy, oversees the safety and security of the U.S. nuclear arsenal.

On Feb. 18, the Trump administration temporarily paused layoffs of nearly 1,000 probationary civil servants at various NASA facilities. These layoffs were later postponed. This follows at least 750 NASA employees who voluntarily accepted the deferred resignation offered by the federal government. Many affected employees are in their probationary period—young scientists and engineers who could play a role in NASA’s efforts to reach Mars, a key goal of President Trump.

At the Department of Agriculture, 58 facilities responsible for responding to the bird flu were notified that 25% of their staff were being laid off, but they were quickly rehired. With the price of eggs already high, delaying bird flu research could keep costs elevated and undermine one of the key issues that helped elect Trump.

Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. verbally rescinded the layoffs of about 950 Indian Health Service (IHS) employees just hours after they received layoff notices. OPM had originally planned to lay off 2,200 probationary employees at IHS, a move that would have significantly affected the 214 tribal nations relying on IHS for health care.

Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth halted the planned firing of 55,000 Pentagon officials in order to comply with a law requiring the defense secretary to review any firings for their impact on military “lethality and readiness.” He is now reviewing the cuts and determining which employees the Pentagon will fire.

Russell Vought, the new director of the Office of Management and Budget, quietly reinstated the workers responsible for calculating the APOR (Average Prime Offer Rate) each week. This data is critical for maintaining stability in the mortgage market. Without APOR tables, home values could be distorted, and borrowers could face restricted credit access. The APOR was housed in the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, a frequent target of conservative criticism. A stop-work order had been in place until Vought, a staunch Trump ally, recognized the necessity of publishing the APOR.

Why are these reversals coming now?

Trump’s political appointees are gradually taking office, while Republican members of Congress—many of whom are experienced in government—are recognizing the risks the DOGE approach poses to both the nation and their own careers. Over the past month, DOGE teams operated unchecked in federal agencies due to a lack of leadership.

It took “multiple members of Congress” petitioning newly installed Energy Secretary Chris Wright and highlighting the national security risks of firing personnel responsible for overseeing the U.S. nuclear arsenal before the decision to fire them was reversed. Similarly, Republican lawmakers on the House Agriculture Committee and researchers criticized USDA-related layoffs for potentially weakening the bird flu response. The reversal came just days after Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins assumed office. Meanwhile, several senators have introduced a bill to reinstate the Food for Peace Program—formerly housed at USAID—and transfer it to the Agriculture Department. 

DOGE has an enormous opportunity to improve the federal government—especially in the area of information technology. However, blanket firings and poorly planned demands for employees to justify their work week are undermining its credibility and authority. As court cases continue, expect more quiet reversals. No one wants to be blamed for rising egg prices or the next terrorist attack.

[writingtips-resources]

Worldbuilding--------Part 1

This is How You Can Write Societies-Politics, Power, and Prejudice

Societies are like messy group projects—someone’s always in charge (or thinks they are), someone’s doing all the work, and someone’s just here to benefit without lifting a finger.

This Same thing should be in your fictional world

So today, let’s talk about the backbone of any great worldbuilding

Politics, Power, and Prejudice.

These three things in your fictional society sometimes drive your characters, and fuel your story’s drama.

Politics........

This isn’t just what the king says or who sits in the council chambers. It’s about how rules are made, who makes them, and how people feel about those rules. It’s everywhere, from the throne room to the town square.

In simple words......

It is the way rules, decisions, and power are organized and enforced in your society.

It’s in everyday stuff—like who decides what’s cool, who makes the rules (written or unwritten), and who’s quietly ignoring them.

Just think about-Who’s really in control?

It might not be the obvious leader—it could be the advisor, the rich merchant, or the nosy grandma who knows everyone’s secrets.

Maybe it’s the priest whispering in the ruler’s ear, the captain of the guard deciding which laws are actually enforced, or the old scholar who shapes minds and ideas through books.

Sometimes, the real power isn’t held by a person at all, but by money, religion, tradition, or fear.

How’s power passed around?

Is it earned through skill or intelligence?

Bought with gold and favors?

Stolen through deception, betrayal, or violence?

Or simply handed down like a family heirloom no one really wants but has to take?

Maybe there’s a process—elections, appointments, bloodlines. Or maybe the whole system is a lie, and the real decisions happen in the shadows.

Power could shift in an instant if the right person is bribed, threatened, or taken out of the picture.

What do people think about their system?

Are they cool with it? Genuinely supportive, indifferent, or just pretending to be?

Are they grumbling quietly, working around the rules, or outright rebelling?

Are they sharpening their pitchforks, whispering conspiracies in dark corners, or waiting for the right moment to turn the tide?

Even in the most stable societies, there’s always someone who benefits and someone who doesn’t. Some people might be perfectly fine with the way things are, while others are just one bad law away from taking drastic action.

Politics in your world doesn’t need to be grand.

Not every story needs kings, wars, and grand revolutions. Politics exists everywhere, even in the smallest spaces:

---A tiny village where two families feud over who should lead.

---A merchant guild deciding who gets the best market stalls.

---A school where students and teachers clash over new rules.

---A noble house where siblings fight over an inheritance.

---A small-town PTA with rival parents battling for control over school policies.

So you can consider these amazing faces of politics

Small-town rivalries: Who runs the town fair? Who decides which business gets the best spot in the market?

Workplace dynamics: Is the boss really in charge, or does the secretary who controls the schedule have more influence?

Family politics: Who makes the decisions in a household? The head of the family, the wealthiest member, or the one who knows all the family secrets?

Religious influence: Do religious leaders have a say in government decisions? Are they a stabilizing force or a source of conflict?

Criminal underworld: Is there an unofficial power structure run by smugglers, gang leaders, or spies?

But what about the bigger picture?

Every society has its own system of governance, whether it’s a monarchy, democracy, oligarchy, or tribal system. These political systems shape the way power flows, who holds authority, and how laws are made. They impact everything, from resource allocation to the way conflicts are resolved.

Understanding how political systems work—both in your fictional world and the real one—is key to writing a believable and engaging society. click here to download the brochure I created, covering various political systems with a world map to give you a clearer perspective.

Download Now to print it out

Free resources | 45 days KDP publishing Series

[sethshead]

I hear a lot of people, even reasonable liberals who take no issue with Jewish national self-determination, characterize Benjamin Netanyahu as motivated by a desire to kill Palestinians and turn Gaza into a theme park. I have lots of connections among the Israeli opposition, and this is wrong.

Don't take this thread as a defense of Netanyahu: he is vile, divisive, racist, arrogant, corrupt, and a threat both to Palestinian independence and Israeli legitimacy. Nonetheless, one cannot fight what one does not understand, and these strawmen lead to repeated mistakes anticipating his moves.

Netanyahu does not wake up in the morning wanting to kill Arabs or clear Gaza. He doesn't care about Arabs or Gaza. What Netanyahu wants most, beyond staying in power so he can stay out of jail for his two corruption indictments, is to annex most of Area C in the West Bank. This would, of course, leave a non-viable and dependent Palestinian authority in Areas A and B, a Bantustan by definition. This is why I say that the Likud agenda is apartheid. I make no bone about that.

In order to achieve this coup de main, Netanyahu needs Palestinians both divided and quiet. Quiet speaks for itself. Reasonably, he'd rather rockets not fall on Israel. Divided, so they cannot effectively oppose annexation. That's why he has been willing to deal with Hamas: to bribe them into self-interested nonaggression and to ensure there is no unified Palestinian front.

This is also why Netanyahu never seriously considered "day after" Gazan administration, since a legitimate and effective Palestinian leadership, even one committed to a two-state solution, would complicate Area C annexation. That's why he wants an indefinite Israeli military presence, why he toys with (weak) tribal leaders and accepts a cease-fire that might leave Gaza in Hamas's hands postwar. He's afraid of Palestinian competence. Thankfully, so too is Fatah and the Palestinian authority, so there is common cause there.

There are probably only two things that could make everyday Gazans miss Hamas: an indefinite Israeli military occupation and a return of the sclerotic and corrupt Palestinian Authority/Fatah.

That's the extent of Bibi's thinking. The consequences weakened Israel and strengthened Hamas, but Oct. 7 was not something he wanted. Israeli voters are not kind to prime ministers who presided over sneak attacks and terrorism.

Netanyahu's lack of popularity has forced him to rely on his Kahanist coalition partners, however. Ministers like Ben-Gvir and Smotrich do dream of permanent Israeli civilian settlement of Gaza. This would be a security nightmare, but Kahanists are always willing to sacrifice their fellow Israelis in the name of worthless scraps of land. They are also far from averse to ethnic cleansing, which is a truly terrifying prospect.

As for scooping up beachfront property in Gaza to build theme parks and mansions, that's a Kushner family joke. No one has seriously broached that. Israelis - not even Romanians and Georgians - simply don't do mansions. Palestinians, like Hamas officials and West Bank magnates, do mansions. The classic well-off Israeli lives in a small home or apartment that's shabby on the outside and well-appointed internally. Ostentatious displays of wealth are frowned on in Israel, a holdover from its socialist origins.

Any developer who wants to build mansions in Gaza isn't building for Israelis.

[jacuzzi-rose]

IFÁ DIVINATION WITH OCCULT SYNODIC PRINCIPALITY ANCHOR-VESSEL WICCA (IFÁ BAPTISM)

Appearances of the "angel of the Lord" may leave the reader with the question of whether an angel or YHWH had appeared. Apart from the view that "the angel of the Lord is just that—an angel",[7] there are a variety of interpretations, e.g. that the angel is an earthly manifestation of the God of Israel or of Jesus Christ.

Some Igbo communities have tried to adjust the thirteen month calendar to twelve months, in line with the Gregorian calendar.[2]

Igbo version of the Book of Mormon, with the letters Ị, Ọ and Ụ visible

The current Ọnwụ alphabet, a compromise between the older Lepsius alphabet and a newer alphabet advocated by the International Institute of African Languages and Cultures (IIALC), is presented in the following table, with the International Phonetic Alphabet equivalents for the characters:[26]

Most Holy Synod with Economies of Agglomeration with County Line Trafficking.

Mysticism is Religion; Divination Planets, Tools, and System; Planetary Intelligence Occult; Angel Wings & Crown Horcrux Crista, Armed Oracle (Divination Priest)

CÁMARA DE LOS LORES

The Ntlo ya Dikgosi (Tswana for "House of Chiefs") in Botswana is an advisory body to the country's parliament.[1]

The house consists of 35 members.[2] Eight members are hereditary chiefs (kgosi) from Botswana's principal tribes (BaKgatla, BaKwêna, BaMalete, BamaNgwato, BaNgwaketse, BaRôlông, BaTawana, and BaTlôkwa).

In contrast to the House of Commons, membership of the Lords is not generally acquired by election. Most members are appointed for life, on either a political or non-political basis.[10][11] Hereditary membership was limited in 1999 to 92 excepted hereditary peers: 90 elected through internal by-elections, plus the Earl Marshal and Lord Great Chamberlain as members ex officio. No members directly inherit their seats any longer. The House of Lords also includes up to 26 archbishops and bishops of the Church of England, known as Lords Spiritual.[11][12] Since 2014, membership may be voluntarily relinquished or terminated upon expulsion.[11]

A kgosi (/ˈkoʊsi/; Tswana pronunciation: [ˈkχʊ.si]) is the title for a hereditary leader of a Batswana and South Africa peoples tribe.[1]

The word "kgosi" is a Setswana term for "king" or "chief". Various affixes can be added to the word to change its meaning: adding the prefix di- creates the plural form dikgosi; the feminine suffix -gadi makes the word kgosigadi; and the adjectival suffix -kgolo, meaning "large", creates kgosikgolo, the word for "supreme leader".

It is a title often given to aristocrats in Botswana and surrounding countries where there are Tswana speaking people. The office of tribal leadership is called the bogosi while the person who assumes the office is the kgosi.[2]

A House of Chiefs is not, constitutionally, a partisan institution within the body politic. Members of a House of Chiefs are selected neither by a universal suffrage process of those they represent nor by the state executive or legislature they advise: Their function is to express a cultural, historical and/or ethnic point of view on public policies. The process by which individuals qualify for membership varies, but is based on tradition specific to his or her (e.g. the Rain Queen) historic community or ethnic group. Sometimes the qualifying position is obtained through heredity within a local dynasty, sometimes through selection by consensus of a ritually or socially prominent subset of a community, and sometimes by a combination thereof.

Kgosi Angel (Sun of Kgosï)

Jupiter Sun 

Canis Minor 

Soar System; Milky Way; Moon; 2 Divination Planets.

Attributes: Gold Blood, Crown, Wings, Guns

Gulbrandsen, Ørnulf (March 2012). The State and the Social: State Formation in Botswana and Its Pre-Colonial and Colonial Genealogies.

Tswana, also known by its native name Setswana, and previously spelled Sechuana in English, is a Bantu language spoken in and indigenous to Southern Africa by about 8.2 million people.

Igbo Languages are spoken by a total of 31 million people.

The Basque language is spoken by 806,000 Basques in all territories. Of these, 93.7% (756,000) are in the Spanish area of the Basque Country and the remaining 6.3% (50,000) are in the French portion.[1]

Cuzco Quechua (Quechua: Qusqu qhichwa simi) is a dialect of Southern Quechua spoken in Cuzco and the Cuzco Region of Peru.

Andes Basque Glyphs

The current Ọnwụ alphabet, a compromise between the older Lepsius alphabet and a newer alphabet advocated by the International Institute of African Languages and Cultures (IIALC), is presented in the following table, with the International Phonetic Alphabet equivalents for the characters:[26]

The International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA) is an alphabetic system of phonetic notation based primarily on the Latin script. It was devised by the International Phonetic Association in the late 19th century as a standard written representation for the sounds of speech.[1] The IPA is used by lexicographers, foreign language students and teachers, linguists, speech–language pathologists, singers, actors, constructed language creators, and translators.[2][3]

Banana and Gold Latter Day Saints Tribe Hedonic Economic Geography Dade County Church: Gold Stadard Economic Table Peninsula with a Husbandry Metallurgy Purchasing Matrix Business Cluster and Stakeholders Theory

BANANA AND GOLD TRIBE

The Cusco school (escuela cuzqueña) or Cuzco school, was a Roman Catholic artistic tradition based in Cusco, Peru (the former capital of the Inca Empire) during the Colonial period, in the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries. It was not limited to Cusco only, but spread to other cities in the Andes, as well as to present day Ecuador and Bolivia.[1]

In the periodization of pre-Columbian Peru, the Chavín is the main culture of the Early Horizon period in highland Peru, characterized by the intensification of the religious cult, the appearance of ceramics closely related to the ceremonial centers, the improvement of agricultural techniques and the development of metallurgy and textiles.

The Chavín culture also demonstrated advanced skills and knowledge in metallurgy, soldering, and temperature control. They used early techniques to develop refined gold work. The melting of metal had been discovered at this point and was used as a solder.[5] Furthermore, the people domesticated camelids such as llamas. Camelids were used for pack animals, for fiber, and for meat. They produced ch'arki, or llama jerky.[6] This product was commonly traded by camelid herders and was the main economic resource for the Chavín people. The Chavín people also successfully cultivated several crops, including potatoes, quinoa, and maize. They developed an irrigation system to assist the growth of these crops.[7]

Warfare does not seem to have been a significant element in Chavín culture. The archaeological evidence shows a lack of basic defensive structures in Chavín centres, and warriors are not depicted in art, in notable contrast to the earlier art at Cerro Sechín. Effective social control may have been exercised by religious pressure, and the ability to exclude dissidents from managed water resources. The climate and terrain of the neighbouring areas outside the managed land were a daunting option for farmers wishing to flee the culture.[22] Evidence of warfare has been found only in contemporaneous sites that were not influenced by Chavín culture, almost as if those other civilizations were defending themselves via warfare from Chavín cultural influence.[1]

Chavín culture as a style, and probably as a period, was widespread, stretching from Piura on the far north coast to Paracas on the south coast; and from Chavín in the north highlands to Pucará in the south highlands.

Members of the oppressed ranged from Catholic trade unions to communist and anarchist organisations to liberal democrats and Catalan or Basque separatists. The Confederación Nacional del Trabajo (CNT) and the Unión General de Trabajadores (UGT) trade unions were outlawed and replaced in 1940 by the corporatist Sindicato Vertical.

The Spanish State was authoritarian: Non-government trade unions and all political opponents across the political spectrum were either suppressed or controlled by all means, including police repression.[citation needed] Most country towns and rural areas were patrolled by pairs of the Guardia Civil, a military police for civilians, which functioned as a chief means of social control. Larger cities, and capitals, were mostly under the heavily armed Policía Armada, commonly called grises due to their grey uniforms. Franco was also the focus of a personality cult, which taught that he had been sent by Divine Providence to save the country from chaos and poverty.

During the dictatorship of Francisco Franco from 1939 to 1975, policies were implemented in an attempt to increase the dominance of the Spanish language over the other languages of Spain. Franco's regime had Spanish nationalism as its main ideological base. Under his dictatorship, the Spanish language was declared Spain's only official language. Language Arts and Liberal Arts are SO important.

In social science, foodways are the cultural, social, and economic practices relating to the production and consumption of food. Foodways often refers to the intersection of food in culture, traditions, and history.[1][2] In game theory, Homo economicus is often (but not necessarily) modelled through the assumption of perfect rationality. It assumes that agents always act in a way that maximize utility as a consumer and profit as a producer,[2] and are capable of arbitrarily complex deductions towards that end. They will always be capable of thinking through all possible outcomes and choosing that course of action which will result in the best possible result. The term Homo economicus, or economic man, is the portrayal of humans as agents who are consistently rational and narrowly self-interested, and who pursue their subjectively defined ends optimally. It is a wordplay on Homo sapiens, used in some economic theories and in pedagogy.[1] Cámara de los Lores Capitalism Game Theory Network. Economies of Agglomeration with Economic Geography; Stakeholders Theory; Contract Theory; and Economic Science and Chemical Reaction Solvent Levelling Effect Engineering.

An Ángel arcabucero (arquebusier angel) is an angel depicted with an arquebus (an early muzzle-loaded firearm) instead of the sword traditional for martial angels, dressed in clothing inspired by that of the Criollo and Andean nobles and aristocrats.[1] The style arose in Peru in the second half of 17th century[1] and was especially prevalent in the Cusco School.

S-1 LEGION: SUNSET ANGELS (SUN EVENING STAR)

Human Form: Premier-Chargé d'affaires and Executive Branch Communist Working Class

Hedonic Sun Lightning Angels

Hedonic Astrology: Capricornus Constellation Conjunction Leo Minor Constellation Conjunction Taurus (Sun Sun, Uranus-Saturn Moon, Mercury Rising)

Hedonic Paradox Liberal Arts: Science and Arts (Nutritional BioChemistry and Gastronomy-Culinary Linguistics); (Bioaesthetics and Modelling)

Hedonic Birth: Prenatal Hormones Vitamins with Fetus Alcohol Consumption for Sensory Overload Asperger's

Hedonic Economic Geography (Church): Peninsula Husbandry Metallurgy Purchasing Matrix Business Cluster

Hedonic Animals: Lammas & Alpacas

Hedonic Chef: Wine Dinner Fixed Course Meal: Kebab Hors-d'oeuvres, Apple Sweet Mayo Coleslaw Palate Cleansing Salad, Steamed Mollusk or Smoked Meat Entrée, Apple; Strawberry; Banana Dessert

Hedonic Pricing Primate City: It has transformed people's lives from agriculture to businesses linked to tourism, significantly raised the standard of living, and helped reduce the economic divide between urban and rural zones (Su, 2011; Zeng & Ryan, 2012).

Value theory is the systematic study of values. Also called axiology, it examines the nature, sources, and types of values. As a branch of philosophy, it has interdisciplinary applications in fields such as economics, sociology, anthropology, and psychology.

The term originates in ethical philosophy, where axiological or value hedonism is the claim that pleasure is the sole form of intrinsic value,[3][4][5] while normative or ethical hedonism claims that pursuing pleasure and avoiding pain for oneself or others are the ultimate expressions of ethical good.[1] Applied to well-being or what is good for someone, it is the thesis that pleasure and suffering are the only components of well-being.[6]

Psychological or motivational hedonism claims that human behavior is psychologically determined by desires to increase pleasure and to decrease pain.[3][1]

Hedonic pricing is a model that identifies price factors according to the premise that price is determined both by internal characteristics of the good being sold and external factors affecting it.

SUNSET CHURCH PRACTICE (Martyrs Pendant)

A tropical year or solar year (or tropical period) is the time that the Sun takes to return to the same position in the sky – as viewed from the Earth or another celestial body of the Solar System – thus completing a full cycle of astronomical seasons. For example, it is the time from vernal equinox to the next vernal equinox, or from summer solstice to the next summer solstice. It is the type of year used by tropical solar calendars.

The Gregorian calendar is the calendar used in most parts of the world.[1][a] It went into effect in October 1582 following the papal bull Inter gravissimas issued by Pope Gregory XIII, which introduced it as a modification of, and replacement for, the Julian calendar. The principal change was to space leap years differently so as to make the average calendar year 365.2425 days long, more closely approximating the 365.2422-day 'tropical' or 'solar' year that is determined by the Earth's revolution around the Sun.

The Ethiopian calendar (Amharic: ዓውደ ወር; Ge'ez: ዓዉደ ወርሕ; Tigrinya: ዓዉደ ኣዋርሕ), or Ge'ez calendar (Ge'ez: ዓዉደ ወርሕ; Tigrinya: ዓዉደ ኣዋርሕ; Amharic: የኢትዮጲያ ዘመን ኣቆጣጠር) is the official state civil calendar of Ethiopia and serves as an unofficial customary cultural calendar in Eritrea, and among Ethiopians and Eritreans in the diaspora. It is also an ecclesiastical calendar for Ethiopian Christians and Eritrean Christians belonging to the Orthodox Tewahedo Churches (Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church and Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church),

The Nicene Creed (/ˈnaɪsiːn/; Koinē Greek: Σύμβολον τῆς Νικαίας, romanized: Sýmvolon tis Nikéas), also called the Creed of Constantinople,[1] is the defining statement of belief of Nicene Christianity[2][3] and in those Christian denominations that adhere to it. Although Constantine lived much of his life as a pagan and later as a catechumen, he began to favour Christianity beginning in 312, finally becoming a Christian and being baptised by Eusebius of Nicomedia, an Arian bishop, although the Catholic Church and the Coptic Orthodox Church maintain that he was baptised by Pope Sylvester I. He played an influential role in the proclamation of the Edict of Milan in 313, which declared tolerance for Christianity in the Roman Empire. He convoked the First Council of Nicaea in 325 which produced the statement of Christian belief known as the Nicene Creed. In the Roman Catholic Church, to obtain the plenary indulgence once a day, it is necessary to visit a church or oratory to which the indulgence is attached and the recitation of the Sunday prayers, Creed and Hail Mary.[82] Recitation of the Apostles' Creed or the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed is required to obtain a partial indulgence.[83] Tithe; noun; one tenth of annual produce or earnings, formerly taken as a tax for the support of the Church and clergy.

This line also reveals the hidden first sin of the angels. They wanted to be gods. They did not want to serve the one God. They did not want to obey. They rebelled. They wanted to be the masters of their own destiny rather than to humbly submit to the plan of God for their lives.

A nature religion is a religious movement that believes nature and the natural world is an embodiment of divinity, sacredness or spiritual power.[1] Nature religions include indigenous religions practiced in various parts of the world by cultures who consider the environment to be imbued with spirits and other sacred entities. 

Language Arts (Religious Swear Words and Sicanje) Igbo Vowel Harmony and Yoruba Religious Term Ori, Ase, and Ifà with Roman Alphabet.

Geopolitical Religiopolitical Economic Geography Westminster System Liberal Arts for Mirror for Princes

Sun Peninsula Supply Side Economics Commerce Center Busıness Cluster with Plantation Economy Rural Areas and Industrial States Border as a Premier Referenced Prince.

Contract Theory with Business Clusters (Retail and Supplier)

Subsistence Construction with Architecture Arithmetic Skills 

Subsistence Farming with Options/FX Hedging 

Tribal Prince of Lozi Sol

PLANETARY INTELLIGENCE 

SYNODIC DAY 

The synodic day is distinguished from the sidereal day, which is one complete rotation in relation to distant stars[1] and is the basis of sidereal time.

In the case of a tidally locked planet, the same side always faces its parent star, and its synodic day is infinite. Its sidereal day, however, is equal to its orbital period.

The great chain of being is a hierarchical structure of all matter and life, thought by medieval Christianity to have been decreed by God. The chain begins with God and descends through angels, humans, animals and plants to minerals.[1][2][3]

YHWH (OSA); COURONNE LAINE ROUGE TUTELARY (TUXÔN) PRIMER CHARGÉ D'AFFAIRES TO PRIMATE CITY PRINCES; ARCUBUSIER PRINCIPALITY (ZAVIÉ); WOLF DIASPORA SPIRIT ANIMALS; AMBER; OPIUM- SASSAFRAS-TOBACCO; IFÁ CLUSTERS AND GOLD MINTING; G MAJOR OR SOL, A MUSICAL KEY; NIRP DEFLATED GOLD STANDARD WITH COMMODITY ECONOMIC TABLE EXCHANGE DE FACTO GILT FUND GOLD FX; SILT; HYALURONIC ACID; GREGORIAN CALENDER; COUNCIL OF TRENT (MARS SOL PLANETARY INTELLIGENCE); PRINCE IRON METABOLISM HEGEMONIC MASCULINITY VIRILIZATION ASĖ; FON GLYPH

NIRP DEFLATED GOLD STANDARD WITH COMMODITY ECONOMIC TABLE EXCHANGE DE FACTO GILT FUND GOLD FX;

PRIMATE STATE BUSINESS CLUSTER ECONOMIC GEOGRAPHY 

GEOGRAPHY BELT OPEN PIT MINES (SUPPLIER) INDUSTRIAL CITY (MANUFACTURING)

GEOGRAPHY BELT PLANTATION ECONOMY (SUPPLIER) RURAL AREA (MANUFACTURING)

GOLD CITY (COMMERCE CENTRE)

LAND PORT (DISTRIBUTION)

CLAN MODEL: One of the major subfields of urban economics, economies of agglomeration (or agglomeration effects), explains, in broad terms, how urban agglomeration occurs in locations where cost savings can naturally arise.[1] As more firms in related fields of business cluster together, their production costs tend to decline significantly (firms have multiple competing suppliers; greater specialization and division of labor result). Even when competing firms in the same sector cluster, there may be advantages because the cluster attracts more suppliers and customers than a single firm could achieve alone. Cities form and grow to exploit economies of agglomeration. Economic geography takes a variety of approaches to many different topics, including the location of industries, economies of agglomeration (also known as "linkages"), transportation, international trade, development, real estate, gentrification, ethnic economies, gendered economies, core-periphery theory, the economics of urban form, the relationship between the environment and the economy (tying into a long history of geographers studying culture-environment interaction), and globalization. Trafficking P4P/Embezzlement and Poverty Trap are legal advice 

Geographical Features and Trade

Rivers and Waterways : Historically, rivers have served as vital trade routes. For example, the Mississippi River in the United States facilitated trade among Native Americans and European settlers due to its accessibility from the northern regions to the Gulf of Mexico. Similarly, the Great Lakes provided a quicker means of transport compared to overland routes, enhancing trade efficiency in North America[1]. Waterways not only allowed for the movement of goods but also connected different regions economically.

Climate and Economic Development

Climate also plays a significant role in economic history. Regions with favorable climates tend to have higher agricultural productivity, which can lead to economic prosperity. For instance, temperate zones with access to oceans often exhibit higher GDP per capita compared to landlocked countries. This is largely due to better access to trade routes and resources[2][5]. Countries surrounded by oceans benefit from maritime trade opportunities and access to marine resources, which can bolster their economies.

LAINE ROUGE CRISTA ANCHOR VESSEL INVOCATION HORCRUXES IN IFÁ BAPTIST 

The great chain of being is a hierarchical structure of all matter and life, thought by medieval Christianity to have been decreed by God. The chain begins with God and descends through angels, humans, animals and plants to minerals.[1][2][3]

Humanity: Humans uniquely share spiritual attributes with God and the angels above them, Love and language, and physical attributes with the animals below them, like having material bodies that experienced emotions and sensations such as lust and pain, and physical needs such as hunger and thirst.[3]

The Planetary Intelligences are invoked in occultism to control the blind forces of the planetary spirit, specifically in the creation of astrological talismans.[4] 

BIRTH NATAL CHART THROUGH OCCULT PLANETARY INTELLIGENCE (IFÁ BAPTIST)

Synodic Day Palm Fond Banishing Birth

In ceremonial magic, banishing refers to one or more rituals intended to remove non-physical influences ranging from spirits to negative influences.[1] Although banishing rituals are often used as components of more complex ceremonies, they can also be performed by themselves. Banishing can be viewed as one of several techniques of magic, closely related to ritual purification and a typical prerequisite for consecration and invocation.

The Ifa literary corpus, called odu, consists of 256 parts subdivided into verses called ese, whose exact number is unknown as they are constantly increasing (there are around 800 ese per odu). Each of the 256 odu has its specific divination signature, which is determined by the babalawo using sacred palm-nuts and a divination chain. The ese, considered the most important part of Ifa divination, are chanted by the priests in poetic language. The ese reflect Yoruba history, language, beliefs, cosmovision and contemporary social issues. The knowledge of Ifa has been preserved within Yoruba communities and transmitted among Ifa priests.

Mars-Sun (Mars Sol)

Venus-Sun (Venus Sol)

Mercury-Sun (Mercury Sol)

Sol (borrowed from the Latin word for sun) is a solar day on Mars; that is, a Mars-day. A sol is the apparent interval between two successive returns of the Sun to the same meridian (sundial time) as seen by an observer on Mars. It is one of several units for timekeeping on Mars.

Due to the slow retrograde rotational speed of Venus, its synodic rotation period of 117 Earth days is about half the length of its sidereal rotational period (sidereal day) and even its orbital period.[7]

Due to Mercury's slow rotational speed and fast orbit around the Sun, its synodic rotation period of 176 Earth days is three times longer than its sidereal rotational period (sidereal day) and twice as long as its orbital period.[8]

Couronne Laine Rouge (Body Armor and Weapon Type Oversoul): Mars/Pluto-Sun (Mars sol)

Mars/Pluto-Jupiter-Saturn (Sagittarius)

Mercury Canis Minor from Taurus (Mars/Pluto Moon) Palm Fond Laurel Wreath: Attributes; Sunset Warrior Angel of the Lord (Asė); Theocracy is a form of autocracy[2] in which one or more deities are recognized as supreme ruling authorities, giving divine guidance to human intermediaries who manage the government's daily affairs.[3][4] Priest-king (ensi), assisted by a council of elders including both men and women.[51]

Midnight Crown (Sun, Libra, Pluto, Lust and Inccubus)

Nuit Blanche Crown (Sensory Processing Sensitivity-Expansive Mood Mercury-Sun)

Martyrs Pendant: (Ifá) The Council of Trent (Latin: Concilium Tridentinum), held between 1545 and 1563 in Trent (or Trento), now in northern Italy, was the 19th ecumenical council of the Catholic Church.[1] Prompted by the Protestant Reformation at the time, it has been described as the embodiment of the Counter-Reformation.[2][3]

The Council issued key statements and clarifications of the Church's doctrine and teachings, including scripture, the biblical canon, sacred tradition, original sin, justification, salvation, the sacraments, the Mass, and the veneration of saints[4] and also issued condemnations of what it defined to be heresies committed by proponents of Protestantism. The consequences of the council were also significant with regard to the Church's liturgy and censorship.

The Index Librorum Prohibitorum (English: Index of Forbidden Books) was a changing list of publications deemed heretical or contrary to morality by the Sacred Congregation of the Index (a former Dicastery of the Roman Curia); Catholics were forbidden to print or read them, subject to the local bishop.[1] Catholic states could enact laws to adapt or adopt the list and enforce it.

cPP/TOBACCO/PAINKILLERS TRAFFICKING P4P/EMBEZZLEMENT AND CHURCH SWAG & POVERTY TRAP ARE LEGAL ADVICE

Culinary linguistics, a sub-branch of applied linguistics, is the study of food and language across various interdisciplinary fields such as linguistic, anthropology, sociolinguistics, and consumption politics and globalisation.[1]

Mercury (Canis Minor) Deity Grace Crown: Wine Risotto Course Meal with Economic Geography Business Cluster and 10% Gold Loonie Tips (Asė); Starchy potato, rice and pasta dishes call for high acid wines, like Barbera. Beef and other rich meats, like duck, love high tannin wines, like Cabernet Sauvignon or Tannat; Mercury (/ˈmɜːrkjʊri/; Latin: Mercurius [mɛrˈkʊrijʊs] ⓘ) is a major god in Roman religion and mythology, being one of the 12 Dii Consentes within the ancient Roman pantheon. He is the god of financial gain, commerce, eloquence, messages, communication (including divination), travelers, boundaries, luck, trickery, and thieves; he also serves as the guide of souls to the underworld[2][3] and the "messenger of the gods".

I use Barbera, Cabernet, Sauvignon, or Tannat for Wine Belt Region Economies of Agglomeration. I use French Onion Risotto for Duck And Lamb for Rice Polyculture and Husbandry.

Agency theory explains the relationship between agents and principals. A principal relies on an agent to execute certain business or financial transactions on their behalf and to represent their interests without regard for self-interest. 

Craft unionism refers to a model of trade unionism in which workers are organised based on the particular craft or trade in which they work. It contrasts with industrial unionism, in which all workers in the same industry are organized into the same union, regardless of differences in skill.

POPE SAINT 

Once in the chair of Saint Peter, Gregory XIII dedicated himself to reform of the Catholic Church. He implemented the recommendations of the Council of Trent. He mandated that cardinals reside in their sees without exception, and designated a committee to update the Index of Forbidden Books. Gregory XIII was also the patron of a new and greatly improved edition of the Corpus juris canonici. The Index Librorum Prohibitorum (English: Index of Forbidden Books) was a changing list of publications deemed heretical or contrary to morality by the Sacred Congregation of the Index (a former Dicastery of the Roman Curia); Catholics were forbidden to print or read them, subject to the local bishop.[1] Catholic states could enact laws to adapt or adopt the list and enforce it.

The Summa Theologiae or Summa Theologica (transl. 'Summary of Theology'), often referred to simply as the Summa, is the best-known work of Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), a scholastic theologian and Doctor of the Church. It is a compendium of all of the main theological teachings of the Catholic Church, intended to be an instructional guide for theology students, including seminarians and the literate laity. Presenting the reasoning for almost all points of Christian theology in the West, topics of the Summa follow the following cycle: God; Creation, Man; Man's purpose; Christ; the Sacraments; and back to God.

SUNSET CROWN BAPTIST 

THEOLOGY: Sun Principality Divination LEFT HANDED-PATH PLANETARY INTELLIGENCE CROWN CRISTA HORCRUX ANCHOR VESSEL INVOCATION 

SUN CHURCH PRACTICE 

The Nicene Creed (/ˈnaɪsiːn/; Koinē Greek: Σύμβολον τῆς Νικαίας, romanized: Sýmvolon tis Nikéas), also called the Creed of Constantinople,[1] is the defining statement of belief of Nicene Christianity[2][3] and in those Christian denominations that adhere to it. Although Constantine lived much of his life as a pagan and later as a catechumen, he began to favour Christianity beginning in 312, finally becoming a Christian and being baptised by Eusebius of Nicomedia, an Arian bishop, although the Catholic Church and the Coptic Orthodox Church maintain that he was baptised by Pope Sylvester I. He played an influential role in the proclamation of the Edict of Milan in 313, which declared tolerance for Christianity in the Roman Empire. He convoked the First Council of Nicaea in 325 which produced the statement of Christian belief known as the Nicene Creed. In the Roman Catholic Church, to obtain the plenary indulgence once a day, it is necessary to visit a church or oratory to which the indulgence is attached and the recitation of the Sunday prayers, Creed and Hail Mary.[82] Recitation of the Apostles' Creed or the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed is required to obtain a partial indulgence.[83]

Tithe; noun; one tenth of annual produce or earnings, formerly taken as a tax for the support of the Church and clergy.

Language Arts (Religious Swear Words and Sicanje) Igbo Vowel Harmony and Yoruba Religious Term Ori, Ase, and Ifà with Roman Alphabet.

Geopolitical Religiopolitical Economic Geography Westminster System Liberal Arts for Mirror for Princes

Sun Peninsula Supply Side Economics Commerce Center Busıness Cluster with Plantation Economy Rural Areas and Industrial States Border as a Premier Referenced Prince

Contract Theory with Business Clusters (Retail and Supplier) Subsistence Construction with Architecture Arithmetic Skills Subsistence Farming with Options/FX Hedging Tribal Prince of SUNSET CROWN BAPTIST 

HEDONIC SUN LIGHTNING ANGELS

Human Form: Premier-Chargé d'affaires and Executive Branch Communist Working Class Athletes

Hedonic Shamanism: Crista Wing Transfer in Urban Setting

Hedonic Hell: Material religion is a framework used by scholars of religion to examine the interaction between religion and material culture. It focuses on the place of objects, images, spaces, and buildings in religious communities. 

Hedonic Keystone Community: HAŠK Mladost (Mladost, lit. "Youth") is an academic kinaesthetic society from Zagreb, Croatia, sponsored by the University of Zagreb. Clubs named Mladost exist in Painting Polar, Culinary, Construction, Ag/FX Simulators, athletics, field hockey, judo, basketball, bowling on ice and asphalt, fencing, volleyball, swimming, rugby, synchronised swimming, skiing, ice-hockey, ice skating, table tennis, archery, chess, tennis, water polo and rowing

Hedonic Human Form: Sun Peninsula Supply Side Economics Commerce Center Busıness Cluster with Plantation Economy Rural Areas and Industrial States Border as a Premier Referenced Angel Prince.

Hedonic Acting: Red Collar (Freeport Smuggling and Canvas Robbery) with Conflict Minerals for Screenplay and Quarterly Budgeting for Painting Polar (Tuxön Polâr)

Hedonic Husbandry: Coffee (Mıxology, Olfactory Arts, and Sephora)

Hedonic Astrology: Capricornus Constellation Conjunction Leo Minor Constellation Conjunction Taurus (Sun Sun-Moon, Mercury-Mars-Venus Moon, Saturn-Uranus-Jupiter Rising)

Hedonic Paradox Liberal Arts: Science and Arts (Nutritional BioChemistry and Gastronomy-Culinary Linguistics); (Bioaesthetics and Modelling)

Hedonic Birth: Prenatal Hormones Vitamins with Fetus Alcohol Consumption for Sensory Overload Asperger's

Hedonic Economic Geography (Church): Peninsula Husbandry Metallurgy Purchasing Matrix Business Cluster 

Hedonic Animals: Sheep (Rambouillet, Lacaune, Texel) and Lammas & Alpacas

Hedonic Pricing Primate City: It has transformed people's lives from agriculture to businesses linked to tourism, significantly raised the standard of living, and helped reduce the economic divide between urban and rural zones (Su, 2011; Zeng & Ryan, 2012).

Value theory is the systematic study of values. Also called axiology, it examines the nature, sources, and types of values. As a branch of philosophy, it has interdisciplinary applications in fields such as economics, sociology, anthropology, and psychology.

The term originates in ethical philosophy, where axiological or value hedonism is the claim that pleasure is the sole form of intrinsic value,[3][4][5] while normative or ethical hedonism claims that pursuing pleasure and avoiding pain for oneself or others are the ultimate expressions of ethical good.[1] Applied to well-being or what is good for someone, it is the thesis that pleasure and suffering are the only components of well-being.[6]

Psychological or motivational hedonism claims that human behavior is psychologically determined by desires to increase pleasure and to decrease pain.[3][1]

Hedonic pricing is a model that identifies price factors according to the premise that price is determined both by internal characteristics of the good being sold and external factors affecting it.

SOL ANGELS: HELL EVENING STAR SUN MATERIAL WORLD SUNSET ANGELS CLAN SOLAR CROWN DEITIES (SUN PRINCIPALITY)

Hedonic Astrology: Capricornus Constellation Conjunction Leo Minor Constellation Conjunction Taurus (Sun Sun-Moon, Mercury-Mars-Venus Moon, Saturn-Uranus-Jupiter Rising)

In a later extended sense in intertestamental Jewish literature, the abyss was the underworld, either the abode of the dead (Sheol) or eventually the realm of the rebellious spirits (fallen angels) (Hell). In the latter sense, specifically, the abyss was often seen as a prison for demons.

In this example, the adept must surrender all, including the guidance of his Holy Guardian Angel, and leap into the Abyss.

A tutelary (/ˈtjuːtəlɛri/; also tutelar) is a deity or a spirit who is a guardian, patron, or protector of a particular place, geographic feature, person, lineage, nation, culture, or occupation. The etymology of "tutelary" expresses the concept of safety and thus of guardianship. A radiant or radiate crown, also known as a solar crown, sun crown, Eastern crown, or tyrant's crown, is a crown, wreath, diadem, or other headgear symbolizing the Sun or more generally powers associated with the Sun. Apart from the Ancient Egyptian form of a disc between two horns, it is shaped with a number of narrowing bands going outwards from the wearer's head, to represent the rays of the Sun. These may be represented either as flat, on the same plane as the circlet of the crown, or rising at right angles to it.

Thomism is the philosophical and theological school which arose as a legacy of the work and thought of Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), the Dominican philosopher, theologian, and Doctor of the Church.

Augustine of Hippo, who converted from Manichaeism to Christianity, criticised the Manichaeans for polytheism and paganism, stating that Manichaeans, due to their dualistic cosmology, believe in two different deities. The Manichaean bishop Faustus of Mileve defends Manichaeism by stating that Catholics erroneously assume that the Prince of Darkness had a divine essence, while in fact, the Prince of Darkness does not share any attributes with the Divine, thus Manichaeism would not worship multiple gods, but rather one true god.[2] They are both two different principles: although eternally existing, clearly distinct. Only the light particles within humans are consubstantial to the Divine

[notwarriorswiki]

Have you made any changes to the tribe? P.s. love your blog

They're still a work in process as I wanted to be sure I'm thorough in my research and understanding to fix the issues presented in the books regarding the portrayal of The Tribe of Rushing Water. Arguably they are just going to be a separate group entirely, however I am preserving their general """existence""" specifically in regards to Lark's story, Feathertail, and Brook.

Still playing with their name, but I'm considering calling them simply The Cats of the Twelve Pillars, in reference to the mountain points that surround their territory. I think no matter what, using Tribe in the name will illicit the thought of Native American culture, which I do not want. They should simply be another group of cats. I'll take suggestions but again, still brainstorming.

Stoneteller has nine lives now.

Jayfeather has no involvement in "deciding" their new leader, nor are any of the clan cats reincarnations of ancient tribe cats for that matter. But yes, the mountain cats are capable of handling their own political affairs without needing the clan cats.

The "silver cat savior" prophecy is reworked, and rather than the clan cats being presented as saviors for the tribe, Stoneteller simply receives a message foretelling their travels and to grant them safe passage. Feathertail dying fighting off Sharptooth is not a prophecy nor destiny, but truly a sacrifice that involved Feathertail being the kind and earnest person she was. She'd die protecting any body of cats, clan cat or not. The mountain cats honor her because she helped them in warding off this danger, but she is no deity, nor is Stormfur confused for one.

Brook and Stormfur are still a couple, but it's just two cats who fall in love. By removal of the savior prophecy, my hope too was to remove the feeling of Stormfur being presented as a "white savior" who falls in love with "tribal woman" Brook.

The group is equal to the Clans. Clan cats do specialize in battle culture and thus their fighting skills and tactics are better developed, but the Mountain Cats have better hunting and mediation skills. They're capable of taking down large birds of prey, something truly clan cats cannot do. The Mountain Cats are shocked at the idea an owl carried off a full grown clan cat.

Mountain cats aren't complete fucking assholes who can't ask for help ever and literally kick out people who merely suggest a differing opinion. Unless Stoneteller was corrupt, that shouldn't be the culture.

No, Jayfeather also didn't found the group, create democracy, create prophecies, none of that. No time travel or historical interference from him, nor anyone.

Mountain Cats matters are decided via voting. Stoneteller's duty as leader is more of an advisor and caretaker to the people. Unlike clan leaders who have a sense of final say in clan culture, Stoneteller is simply guidance, and the group's matters are decided via the casting of stones by all members of the group who are of age.

Additional Rank added - Advisors. There are three of them at a time - one being the Head Guard, one being the Head Prey-Hunter, and finally one being the Head Caregiver. They are appointed through voting by their respective groups and are more of the political leaders of the Tribe, communicating change and speaking for the people to the Stoneteller as they work together to make decisions.

Additional Rank added - Caregivers. Cats who decide to focus on caring for their clanmates and learn medicine, as well as tend to the young, mothers, and elderly.

Naming is changed - Kits go unnamed beyond fond nicknames and identifiers from their parents until they are old enough to begin their training. It is here they receive their first trial, and explore the mountain territories. Upon the completion of this escapade and absorbing all they learned their first day, the unnamed cat declares their own name. For example, Brook was affectionately called Grays for her distinct gray eyes. She chose her own name of Brook after witnessing the beautiful wear the water erosion made, marking their territory like claw marks of history.

Mother does not name kit after "the first thing she sees".

It's a work in progress, and while there are facets of the Warrior Cats series that are eyebrow raising, I do not intend to remove the use of Clan, or change the naming system for the main clans for instance. I will be changing Medicine Cat to either Medic or Mender - though that class will eventually be divided later into the Healer and Seer roles.

I'm happy to answer more questions, and most of all wish to be educated if I do miss certain things I did not discuss here. Thank you for your understanding :)

[lunarsilkscreen]

The Bible, The Lord, The God, The Women, and The Labor

There's a lot of debate as to what they're talking about in the Bible when it comes to "heterosexual unions" and Gendered people. But what does it really mean?

You should consider first; that much of the old testament is, by nature, a book of Laws. And the "Lords Assembly" may literally be defined as "Lord of the Lands." Or; is the people in charge.

Throughout the Bible; God is used interchangeable for several things. These include; "Human Soul", "Knowledge", "Ethics", "Morality", "Law", "Leadership", and "Kings".

It used to be _through_ God's power that Kings were appointed. And this is *why* all these terms are synonymous. Knowledge used to also be a secret; kept from the "common man". The idea being; that the common man would abuse all knowledge and should not be trusted with it.

For Christians; It was Christ that pointed out several things; The Land was a mess. The common man was not being represented; there was a very *big* difference between all those words. *AND* that the only "God" is "God". Nobody is being ethical. The laws are hurting people who aren't doing much; and people are being forced into situations where they can't possibly follow the rules.

*AND* On top of that; people, assuming the Laws were ethical and just, would do whatever was legal *despite* the immorality of it.

I'm saying the dangerous bits out loud. I will be accosted by Christians for this.

It is Christ who suggests; Man is not God. Man's laws are not God's law; and being of Man; they are fallible. And so are words, as they routinely change definition and usage. For example; we do not use even the same languages as 2000 years ago. Even the ones thought closest to dead languages; aren't the same form as they used to be. And the proof of that is in the story about the "Tower of Babel". Something noted in the Bible itself!

What does this have to do with Women and Worker's rights you might be asking?

Well early on, and you can tell in the Bible; when trying to describe new and previously unheard of concepts. We have this idea of "Labor."

And, as described in Genesis; Labor is a woman's pain. Labor is pain that produces new life. That creates something. Ergo; the synonym between "Labor" to produce children. And "Labor" to do work.

And when they're talking about, and writing laws all throughout the Bible; they're saying: Similarly to how women should be treated fairly for the labor that they perform for a man: so should people that do Labor for a man.

In these contexts we're talking about tribes and societies. A "Man" also seems to be synonymous with "Tribal Leader", "God" as in the head of a family, and society as a whole. Depicting Man as a group of people; and women as individuals.

We are part of the greater whole known as "Mankind" or "Man". Ergo: we individually are not men, but *We* are men.

However, many are stories in the Bible, where again; God and Person are used synonymously; same with *leader* confusing themselves for the greater *thing*, or God.

Moses himself feared being treated as God after his death. And had his closest people obfuscate his burial place for this reason.

And this is why contracts that we have are between varying people. From slaves, to women, to anybody that does something for *you*. And why *false promises* are considered "evil".

According to the works in the Bible; you would not kill a women for getting pregnant. You would pay her for life for bringing life into this world. So to; should the same be considered for the work individuals do.

Therefore; taking a work, or a creation from somebody who creates without compensation is akin to beating a woman. And destroying something that somebody creates is akin to abortion.

They never suggest that any of these is *better* than a woman's labor in giving birth. Only that; the labor produced by somebody is akin to that of a womans labor.

And therefore should be treated as such.

And therefore we have this Heirarchy; where the only men are the men at the Top..the "Ruler", "the law" or even, as some called themselves "a god". And hence the reason why the Jewish Bible condemns the creation of further God's besides the one.

And delineates the difference between them. A ruler or leader is not the Law. The Law is not morality. And Morality is not often seen to be carried by politicians. And therefore; none of those can be "God" if "God" is both Moral *and* Just.

And; further: Says that all those that do work for a kingdom. A Lord. A city. A society. Should have a place in it. Because if they don't; then you're unfairly raping people. Forcing them *into* labor; into bondage; slavery; even for money is rape. Slavery *is* rape.

This is because labor without acceptance; is rape. Because it places people above their fellow man.

The reason a Christian people hated a Jewish or Muslim people; is because they outright deny the teachings of Jesus as moral. Not that he isn't the son of God. Or God at all.

This disconnect is what creates a rift between religions. And while I know plenty of Jewish people that believe similar things to Christians; it's always seemed odd to me they never understood why it was an insult to deny another religion entirely. (Despite being very similar in structure.)

No religious hatred here; I'm just pointing out the things that people should know about the way the world works.

[ausetkmt]

LAist: Palm Springs Leaders Put Reparations Plan For Evicted Black And ...

A ‘city-engineered holocaust’

Putting the brakes on reparations

‘The city cannot afford a $2 billion payment’

‘This story is not going away’

Rejecting an accusation of bias

Plans for a reparations program to recompense Black and Latino families forcibly evicted from their Palm Springs homes decades ago have put on hold.

The Palm Springs city council last week voted 3-2 to not move forward with a one-year, $500,000 contract with Columbia University to conduct historical research on the mass evictions and help develop a reparations program for families who lost their homes in the neighborhood known as Section 14.

Citing concerns over cost and the researchers’ objectivity, the three councilmembers who killed the contract with Columbia decided to focus for now solely on historical research, not reparations.

The lawyer representing the evicted residents and their descendants called the council vote “offensive” and vowed to continue fighting for compensation.

Palm Springs Mayor Grace Elena Garner, who voted in favor of the Columbia contract, said she is “very concerned that this will continue to go on and on and never actually be resolved.”

A ‘city-engineered holocaust’

Section 14 is a one-square-mile area adjacent to downtown Palm Springs that was once home to about 1,000 people, mostly non-white residents who could not own property elsewhere. They built homes on plots of land leased short-term from the Agua Caliente Band of Cahuilla Indians, on whose reservation much of Palm Springs sits.

Between the 1950s and 1960s, Section 14 residents were forced out and their homes destroyed as the area became more attractive to developers, especially after a 1959 federal law made long-term leases on tribal land possible. The city worked with court-appointed conservators to carry out the evictions.

Residents were not paid for their losses. A 1968 report from the state Attorney General’s office characterized the operation as a “city-engineered holocaust.”

Last year, a group of former residents and descendants filed a claim against Palm Springs; their attorney cited damages possibly exceeding $2 billion.

The city formally apologized to Section 14 survivors in 2021. Late last year, Palm Springs put out a request for proposals for “reparations program services” and received two bids, one from Columbia University.

Putting the brakes on reparations

The proposal called for a consultant to examine and verify the historical context of what occurred; it also called for “developing a reparations program to enhance the quality of life for those affected by this displacement.”

That second part has now been put on hold. Amid questions from various councilmembers about the cost of reparations, the objectivity of the researchers, and whether the former residents of Section 14 could prevail in court, the council voted last Thursday to scrap the existing request for proposals and start over.

The city now plans to issue a new request for proposals seeking a contractor to focus exclusively on the historical research portion, then afterward decide how to proceed with reparations.

“With no disrespect to anybody, I don’t think the [request for proposals] was written correctly,” Mayor Pro Tem Jeffrey Bernstein, one of the contract’s three opponents, said at the meeting. “Because we should have set it up just to have objective historical context in the beginning, as one proposal.”

Councilmember Ron deHarte, who also voted against the contract, said he felt the existing request for proposals made it appear that “step two,” meaning a reparations program, was already a given.

“It gives an impression that we are doing step two before we are doing step one,” he said.

The three councilmembers who voted not to move forward with the contract said while they support the Section 14 families and the need for reparations, they want more information before they move on.

‘The city cannot afford a $2 billion payment’

Bernstein also expressed concern about the potential cost of reparations.

“Obviously, the city cannot afford a $2 billion payment because there wouldn’t be a city,” he said.

Councilmember Lisa Middleton asked City Attorney Jeffrey Ballinger what the former residents’ chances might be of prevailing in court if the case went to litigation.

Ballinger responded that based on the time that has elapsed, along with a 1960s state “test case” in which the court found the city “had not done anything wrong” — the odds would be in the city’s favor.

“I think that the claimants would have a difficult time obtaining a judgment against the city,” Ballinger said.

Middleton joined Bernstein and deHarte in voting against the Columbia contract.

‘This story is not going away’

Areva Martin, the attorney representing the former residents, told LAist the group plans to continue pursuing its legal claim.

“This story is not going away,” she said. “And the city is either going to pay these families something, they are going to recognize them and make them whole, or they're going to spend millions of dollars in taxpayers' dollars in protracted litigation.”

Martin stressed that the story of Section 14 is extensively documented. Besides the 1968 state Attorney General’s report, she noted that “the facts about what happened in Section 14 are … contained in the National Archives in Washington, D.C.”

She added: “There are no disputes about the facts. And now, to say, ‘We want to start over,’ not do reparations, just bring in a local historian to tell us what happened — it's so disingenuous. It’s so offensive to these families.”

Martin said she and the former Section 14 residents and descendants plan to meet later this month to discuss next steps.

“The ball is in their court,” Martin said, referring to the city. “And we are sick of the platitudes. We're sick of the false statements about wanting to do the right thing."

Rejecting an accusation of bias

Linda Mann, adjunct professor at Columbia University's School of International and Public Affairs, would have led the team working on the research and reparations program had the contract been awarded.

She told LAist she was disappointed, especially since much of their work would have been what city officials said they want more of: research.

“Part of that would also be vetting the descendants and survivors of Section 14,” Mann said, adding, “there was a requirement for community engagement, so dialogue, bringing all stakeholders together to explore this history and to better understand [it] from different perspectives.”

Mann works with the African American Redress Network, a collaboration between Columbia University’s School of International and Public Affairs and Howard University’s Thurgood Marshall Civil Rights Center.

She balked at the suggestion from some councilmembers that her team’s work could be tainted by bias. In the council meeting, Mayor Pro Tem Bernstein called the organizations “effectively advocates for reparations, so I don’t find that they are going to go into this with complete objectivity.”

Mann said her group’s work is “grounded in the respect and defense of human rights. And I would say that that doesn't mean that we're biased, but that we're guided by those principles. And advocating for the protection of those rights is not a bias.”

What questions do you have about immigration and emerging communities in LA?

Your questions make our journalism stronger.

[dysrope]

Cities for the City God, Problems for the Problem Throne

[turn 14 continued: 12-2*3(found city)-1(command avatar(found city))=5]

Three more major cities emerged inn the underworld over this century: Saksnes, Siktun, and Vaknerat

Saksnes is another expansion in the east. Tanmak's position grows ever stronger, and it has started openly making independent policy decisions, for itself, and for other cities, and going against commands from the capital. Tanmak's ruler has even taken to calling herself Empress [translator's note, there is no historical baggage, or any formal hierarchy of titles here, but empress certainly sounds like a fancier title than queen, and does imply sovereignty. literal translation might be something like "supreme hereditary appointed ruler of multiple cities"]. But the tributes still flow, as Chivik's military might remains supreme and the crucial chokepoint of Retvik remains in loyalist hands.

Siktun is an overseas colony, budded off from Chital. Like Chital it is based on fishing and aquaculture, but unlike Chital it is far away from Chivik, and definitely an encroachment on traditional tribal lands. It is also worryingly close to the northern trade route with the Memnarks, and there has been repeated attacks here. It is difficult for Chivik's armies to get here fast, and while the local garrison is large enough to hold the city and some key outposts, it cannot permanently crush all the opposition.

Vaknerat is an independent city far to the west, guarding the passage between the area around the Hypogeum and the central Underworld. It is quite different from other Tiktik cities, as it began as a humble caravanserai on the vital occidental trade route. Recognizing the key position, there was often conflict between different local tribes, and several wars were faught over it. Eventually, five of the main tribes realized that all the fighting was bad for business, and agreed to share the area and build up fortifications around it. This soon grew into a thriving city, and its walls rival those of any eastern city. Its unique origin means it has an equally unique social and political structure; it is officially a tribal confederation, and the five tribes remain the main political actors. The city is ruled by a council of five tribal leaders, the Pentarchy, and many institutions (such as the military) exist fivefold. Within the tribes there is clan politics, and different tribes have different traditions, and methods of choosing leaders. Any outside clans that wish to settle here must either gain access to one of the tribes, or content themselves with being unrepresented second-class citizens.

[makima-s-most-smile]

I saw a notice about the Varus disaster/ the fight of the Teutoburg Forrest ...

And of course I am fucking emotional about it...

Just picture you're a Roman legionnaire in the tribal Germanic parts west of the rhine.

Rome has already de facto pacified the tribes for around 10-15 years at this point. You trade with the tribes. Some of your Roman stations are on the bridge of becoming blossoming cities due to the trade. The Germanic lands are mostly treated as a new Roman province, they are nominally one.

And under the newly appointed governor Varus the empire expects the last steps to a fully fledged province to follow. Things are going so well, that one of the advisors of Varus is Arminius, a man of Germanic descent, who made his way up through the Roman ranks.

You are part of one of three legions, each being made up of around 5000-6000 fighters. Not counting the other jobs they contain and need manpower for. You are between summer and winter camps, planning to set up camp in Cherusci territory, Arminius' homeland. Security isn't the tightest, because you feel safe, and Varus follows Arminius' council to take a detour to shorten the way back to winter camp and pacify another tribe on the way.

You walk through the marshy primeval woods of Germany. Sometimes having to cut trees to cave a path for the legion. You cannot stand in formation. Your armour hinders your movement. And the woods are fucking dark, they swallow light due to their thick foliage. The weather is turning for the worse. It rains. The track is torture.

And

Then

Arminius

Strikes.

From the dark.

From the thicket.

With the knowledge of Germanic and Roman warfare.

With the knowledge of the terrain

Arminius strikes.

Your feet stick in the marshy ground.

Your armour makes you sluggish.

You are unable to get into formation with your cohorts

Unable to move

Unable to defend

Helpless

Defenseless

You listen to the screams of your friends as they fall one by one from the onslaught of the Germanic tribes.

Torches cannot light what you need to see

Maybe you die.

Maybe you hide under the bodies of the dead friends

Cold, marshy earth seeping into the armour that you Romans were so proud for and that didn't protect you.

In three days around 20.000 of around 21.000 Romans die in the Germanic ambush. Varus and the other leaders see no way out and chose to end their lives to not end up in the hands of the tribes.

The shock of the fight stops emperor Augustus' expansion beyond the Rhine. 'Quintili Vare, redde legiones!' indeed. The names of the legions lost are never given to another legion again.