#verging dangerously into australian at points

[tothechaos]

directors love me for my multitude of british accents and comedic effect of being a short person playing a character with a lot of stage presence

[number9robotic]

Intro to RAPTURE ACADEMY

(so remember a few months ago I said I wanted to make a list of characters for a fighting game? It has a name now lol)

RAPTURE ACADEMY is a superhero/alternate history project centrally focused around the Rapture Academy and Institute for Superpowered Opportunists, a school thinly designed to raise supervillains. Primarily focusing on the stories and systems around a bunch of kids with intensely dangerous powers enrolled in a private academy headed by imprisoned supervillain No. 1 Angel as part of an internationally-backed plea deal. The kids are alright.

STUDENTS:

Anti (Canadian) - Analog horror-themed hoodie kid with dark powers (makes everything they hit distort like a broken VHS tape), surprisingly nice and wholesome and probably the least likely to actually become a career villain.

Hellbound ("Eastern European") - Princess sacrificed to a draconic ritual, became a half-dragon berserker who spends her time bound in magic chains. A demure sweetheart when lucid, murderous beast otherwise.

The Vigilante Smog Monster/"Smoggy" (Australian) - A swamp monster summoned by an indigenous tribe searching for a protector, can turn into sludge and murder smoke, wears enchanted wooden masks.

Twintails (Japanese) - two students in one! A male wizard apprentice and a female ninja apprentice from rivalling clans that were fused together by a trickster yokai; one person is in control at a time, they swap from sneezing.

IDKYS/I Don't Know You, Sorry (Filipino) - Aspiring idol/daughter to high-ranking entertainment execs with a literally hypnotic voice. Placed in school with a voice-to-computer TTS mask in order to be taught a lesson in humility, is the class queen anyway.

Magnus VI (American) - Indestructible cyborg cowboy built by a mad science firm who can explosively self-destruct any joint in his body before reassembling. Extremely arrogant. No one touches his hat.

Metal Alice (French) - Daughter of a supervillain who died and was brought back as a haunted animatronic unknowing that she died. Is a walking portal to the ghost dimension who can pull out all sorts of phantasmic metal weapons, from scissors to chainsaws.

Hot★Shot (Chinese) - Cocky martial arts prodigy, has fire abilities, up-and-coming superstar. Basically thinks he's the protagonist of a shounen fighting game, is a colossal asshole from it, yet is the popular jock regardless.

Vioelectrolysis (Motswana) - Upbeat mad scientist-in-training who fights using a giant modified fire-extinguisher that mixes chemicals for deadly use, as well as a bigass flail for deadly use. She may or may not be a mutant.

White Slate (Greek) - A living statue accidentally created by a mad artist, has the ability to turn people into stone with his touch. Is missing a face, sometimes paints one on for intimidation points. Mostly an emo boi who paints a lot.

zZomnia (Pakistani) - Phoneaholic teen haunted by nightmares that double as guardian spirits with insanely powerful weapons whenever she's asleep or is on the verge of it. Is constantly sleepy. Leave her alone.

Bitter Batter (N/A) - Just an ordinary girl with no superpowers, but a baseball bat, a silent death glare, and murderous intent. Originally a teen vagrant before being enlisted in the school. The most "normal" student and also the most fn terrifying

Moonlight Rosebloom Powderpuff of the Unside Neverlandian Court (Scottish?) - A bubbly (alleged) fairy noble from a (disputed) faraway realm hidden in a (presumably) magical garden. Wields (conversely very real) magic. It's very pink.

Ryvr Sticks (Ukrainian) - A scarecrow infected with a paranatural fungi giving him sapience, regeneration abilities, and hallucinogenic powers. Indisputably the class clown and source of gossip. Is a wicked breakdancer.

FACULTY:

No.1 Angel (███) - Headmaster, part-time supervillain, full-time asshole. thinks he's a superhero who deserves to protect humanity but then gave another superhero cancer using his light manipulation powers for trying to stop him.

Panopticon (███) - head of security, a silent dude in black armor and an old-timey diving helmet who sometimes appears unacknowledged to stare at everyone in class, in hallways, or off campus. Powers unknown.

Señor Heartpuncher (Mexican) - Teacher of self-defense. Retired lucha-themed super with a long history of being a hero, but once had a heel-turn and became teacher because he owed a favor to No.1 Angel. has the ability to absorb and reflect kinetic force, perfect for teaching kids how to hit punches then tank them

Drill Instructor Friday (Brazilian) - Teacher of phys ed. Acts like the scariest and most intense drill instructor you can think of. She's also a genuine werewolf. Comes up with some of the funniest PG-13-level insults imaginable and then punishes you for laughing at them.

OfOz (Haitian) - Teacher of paranatural arts (magic, anomalies, anything "supernatural"). Pretty chill and charismatic expert in the field, is able to split his soul/body separately. Only one half of him is teaching classes, other half is doing supervillainy elsewhere in the world.

DDDD (South Korean) - Teacher of technology arts. Is the head of a megacorp developing devices for supers, mostly villains. Teaches remotely from the other side of the world using a mini-mech suit that she pilots from her office. It has weapons. She forgets this. Frequently rants about her competitors and has to be reminded by her secretary to stay on topic.

Sir SPECTACULAR!!! (Swiss) and The Virtuoso (German) - Teacher and assistant teachers of theatrics (getting students to figure out their gimmicks/brand/performances as supers). They used to commit "theatre crimes" together with SPECTACULAR!!!'s super-conductor powers and Virtuoso's super-VR tech, turning cities into musicals. After turning the state of Oklahoma into a musical, they've settled down teaching kids and enjoy it.

Mr. Professor Von Ruin (Austrian) - "Teacher" of ethics (the legalities and philosophies of being a super). he is actually a cat. a super-intelligent, talking cat, pet of a supervillain, but a cat. he doesn't really teach, so his period's just a free block.

Miss Brutalist (Swedish) - Teacher of logistics (resourcing and management of being a super). No powers, actually runs a business designing HQs and lairs for various supers. Most of her assignments involve getting students to do paperwork for her projects.

Dr. Infinity-Plus (Hungarian) - Teacher of general sciences and maths. Has incredible foresight/caculation abilities, which drove him... not quite "insane" but very jaded, paranoid, and antsy. Will often derail classes to vent about existentially terrifying concepts. wears a Rubik's cube-like helmet to dampen his mind.

Sewn Chaos (Azerbaijani) - Teacher of home economics. Former career super before using her textile-manipulation powers to design costumes for others, helps the kids figure out their costumes. genuinely like everyone's favorite grandma up until she shares stories of all the f'd up villains she worked with. Good times!

DREADNAUT (Russian) - Head librarian. Ghostly cosmonaut afflicted by paranatural forces while on the moon, now has gravity powers but is stuck in a fugue state. manages the school's library containing vast resources... which is constructed upside-down in order to make it harder for kids to access.

Gutwrencher (Czech) - Head nurse. A zombie in all but name, has a flesh-mending/regeneration factor she can use to heal herself and others. Is constructed out of various necrotic body parts and stitching that often come apart at inconvenient times. Some students are attracted to her and don't know why.

Mr. BRB (Italian) - Head janitor (and also the only one). He's a necromancer who summons ghouls to help do the cleaning for him but often still leaves things dirty. Mostly chills out in his office to record his personal podcasts and offer advice to kids who ask nicely.

[liamhaydn-blog]

Andy Murray reminds us who he is at the Australian Open

The thing that often amazes us about elite sportspeople is how they make their chosen sport look like the easiest thing in the world. Whether it’s been the effortless grace of Roger Federer’s groundstrokes, or the movement and flexibility of Novak Djokovic, with his rubber-like limbs allowing him to slide and glide across the court in ways human flesh is surely not designed to. Andy Murray is a different kind of athlete to those aforementioned two, he instead regularly makes tennis look like the hardest profession in the world. He makes it exhausting to watch, let alone play. He looks like a physical wreck, sweat soaked, doubled over audibly panting for breath, then he resets and resumes play for another couple of hours. I saw Murray described the other day as always being the most ‘human’ of the superhuman big 4 who once ruled their field together. That is for sure an understatement.

As the world responded to Murray’s displays in the 2023 Australian Open, words such as 'warrior' and 'gladiator' came up a lot. And there is something almost gladiatorial about the way Murray is willing to suffer for the crowds entertainment. He invites the audience to endure with him, and to his opponent he says “I’m willing to put my body through hell to win, are you? Let’s find out. Let’s see who can endure this for longer.” For around a decade Murray has tested his opponents mental and physical willpower, and for much of that decade only 3 men could last with him, the 3 men we all know. The rest would inevitably wilt, buckle as Murray’s unbreakable will and spirit would eventually break them down. They were facing a man who refused to lose, or more accurately refused to stop giving 100% of himself to every point.

In some ways, the 3 matches Andy Murray played at this years Australian open could encapsulate his entire career. Murray first faced Matteo Berrettini, a monster server who had won his last 3 encounters with the Scot. This didn’t stop Murray from getting into a commanding position by winning the first 2 sets. However, Berrettini had not exited at the first round stage of a slam for four years and would not go quietly into the night. Murray saw a 4th set go away from him in a tiebreak to take the match into a decisive 5th. Andy was on the verge of losing for just the second time in his career from 2 sets up, when Berrettini brought up but then squandered match point on Murray’s service game. Instead the match was decided by a 10 point tie-break, with the Italian looking to reach double figures for consecutive tie-breaks won. Instead it was the 35-year old who outlasted his 26-year old opponent in 4 hours and 49 minutes. It was a significant victory for Murray, his first win in the best of 5 format over an opponent ranked in the top 20 since he first left the tour in 2017. The 13th seed Berrettini had reached the semi-finals at the previous years Australian Open and had made it to at least the Quarters in his last 5 majors.

Murray was being brought back down to earth just days later as he took to the court against home favourite Thanasi Kokkinakis. The Australian served big from the off and was in danger of hitting Murray off the court and out of the tournament. He took the second set tie-break and put Andy on the brink of exit, needing just one more set for victory. But before bowing out Murray would give us one more vintage moment however. Already a break down at the start of the 3rd set Andy played a point which maybe no other player in the history of the sport could win. If that sounds bold, bear with me. Kokkinakis quickly got into a position where he was forcing Andy to scurry from one end of the court to the other as the Aussie pummelled the ball into the corners. Murray, stretching every sinew, groaning with the effort continually retrieved the ball only to be sent on another wild goose chase by Kokkinakis’ racquet.

But Kokkinakis could not for the life of him finish the point, though Murray could do no more than offer the ball up for not one, not two, but three successive overheads, the Aussie remained unable to put any of them away, Murray retrieved them all. He was then able to somehow scoop a return from way behind his baseline so deep that it sent Kokkinakis back to his own baseline. With this shot Murray had made the point neutral again and it was his opponent who blinked first hitting into the net. Kokkinakis threw his racquet at the floor in disgust, Murray cupped and pointed at his ear theatrically as though an away footballer taunting the home crowd after scoring a goal, but there was no booing or jeering here, the crowd roared as if Murray had been born in Sydney. They’d witnessed a special point, and they knew it. “Midnight Madness in Melbourne!” exclaimed Mark Petchey as Murray broke back for 1-2 in the third.

For most people, even for most tennis players, desperately hunting down the ball when you know the only option is to lift it into the air for your opponent to smash once again isn’t exactly fun, but for Murray that’s exactly what it is, he’s always been a born defender, the man for chasing down lost causes and delaying the inevitable. And even whilst down two sets and two games in the third, the idea of him accepting the point was lost and losing enthusiasm for the fight was never going to happen. He got his reward. But it seemingly would be little more than a consolation prize, Murray wins the point of the match, Kokkinakis wins the actual match as a 5-2 lead put him a game away from straight sets victory.

After the highs of beating Berrettini it was to be a disappointing loss against the 69th ranked player in the world, but not an all together unexpected one after the tribulations Murray went through in the first round, and being out on court for nearly 5 hours. Murray fans worldwide accepted it, a straight sets loss. There was positives and nice memories to take from the Berrettini win, but he was no longer a player capable of following up a great win with another win in the Best of 5 sets format. Kokkinakis leads 5-3 on serve, he’s two points from victory. But hang on, Murray breaks! he’s stubbornly delaying his exit, for as long as he can. He holds for 5-5 and shortly after we’re in a tiebreak. This time it’s the Scot who wins it, and all of a sudden this match looks a whole lot different. Something is happening here..

The momentum is suddenly all Murray's and after being pegged back from 2-0 up in his last match and dragged into a 5th, this time it’s Murray doing it to his opponent. As he takes the fourth, it starts to feel inevitable, we’ve been here before. He’s smelt blood, Kokkinakis is not doing a lot wrong, but it’s like he’s trapped in a Hollywood movie script, like Apollo Creed or Ivan Drago. He's now there for one reason: to be the victim vanquished against all odds by our stories hero.

Even though all logic suggests that a 35 year old man with one hip, who’s been out on the court for nearly 10 hours should be outlasted by a man 9 years his junior, all logic has been momentarily suspended, perhaps highlighted by Murray being denied the use of the toilet, having used all his allotted bathroom breaks. With logic defied, Murray would be writing the latest in his series of Rocky-esque scripts. After 5 hours and 45 minutes, Andy Murray was victorious at 4:05 AM in the Melbourne morning. Hearing the roar you’d be forgiven for thinking he’d just won his 3rd Wimbledon title in front of his home fans, no instead Murray had beaten an Australian in Australia, to reach just the 3rd round. That’s how affecting and inspiring Murray’s fightback was, Australians love being Australian, but sports-mad people that they are, they love the drama and emotion sport invokes even more.

After the match Murray said: “It was unbelievable that I managed to turn that around. Thanasi was serving unbelievably, hitting his forehand huge and I don't know how I managed to get through it. I did start playing better as the match went on - and yes, I have a big heart.” Murray went on to mention a stat which must give him immense satisfaction, he now holds the record outright for most comebacks from 2 sets behind, moving ahead of legends Roger Federer and Boris Becker. Murray has now done it 11 times, 11 times and he still surprises us. 11 times and we still find ourselves writing him off, saying no, not even *he* can come back from this, and yet he did. The record proves a vindication of all the thousands of hours he’s given to tennis in his career, working on the physical and mental sides of the game, which has helped take him to a level where he will always back himself to win in these situations. Kokkinakis hit 37 aces in the match, a total of 101 winners and it still wasn’t enough, it was never going to be enough.

The Scot’s draw was not going to get any easier, as in the 3rd round he faced Roberto Bautista Agut, a man who had beaten Murray twice in the previous year, losing just six games in the process. The win over Kokkinakis was the longest match of Murray’s career and it took his time on court to over 10 and a half hours. It looked for a time that after 2 long brutal matches, Murray’s third was in danger of being over brutally quick. Appearing stiff and too exhausted to move, Murray was a set down in 29 minutes, winning just the solitary game. He went an early break down in the second set too, but the crowd wanted their own experience of Murray magic, they willed him back into the match, roaring at his every point, trying to feed their energy into his muscles to push them on. Andy broke back and took the set into a tiebreak, a tiebreak he trailed 2-5. Extraordinarily he then reeled off 5 straight points to level the match. Surely it wasn’t happening again..

It wasn’t. At this stage even Murray ran out of magic, but he went down the only way he knows how, the only way he can tolerate which is whilst still battling and still believing, losing the 3rd and 4th sets 3-6 and 4-6 respectively. Following his exit from the tournament Murray said: “I feel like I gave everything that I had to this event. So I’m proud of that. That is really, in whatever you’re doing, all you can do. You can’t always control the outcome. You can’t control how well you’re going to play or the result. You can control the effort that you put into it, and I gave everything that I had the last three matches.” Athletes such as Lionel Messi and Novak Djokovic show us what life would be like if we were extraordinary gifted, Andy Murray shows us what a human looks like who truly gives his all. He makes you wonder what could be achieved if you truly committed every fibre of your being towards something, without wondering what you’ll get out of it, without worrying about what lies at the end, whether it’s even worth trying. For him the trying is the point, that’s the reward in itself, knowing you couldn’t have given more.

A word has been added to the tennis vocabulary and that word is “Murray-coaster” to describe the up and down nature of a Murray match. And truly there has probably never been an athlete who goes through so many emotions so rapidly and all of them are shared with the audience in real time. It’s what makes Murray, still now when he hasn’t reached the last 16 of a slam for over 5 years, one of the most watchable and engaging athletes on the planet. He wins a point, he’s fist-pumping manically, looking into faces of spectators in the crowd cajoling them to give him even more encouragement, louder please. With that Murray’s legs are filled with life, he’s bouncing on them despite the endless hours of match-play. His whole body looks filled with vitality and belief. Then he immediately plays a poor point, his shoulders slump, he limps back into position, he receives the ball from the ball kid like it’s a form of torture to have to go on playing. He loses a long point, he’s leaning down using his racquet to rest, panting for air, he may find time to curse himself or shout something sarcastic to his box. He wins the next point, the crowd roars its approval, Murray is now encouraging himself “C’mon!”, it’s still only 30 all.

Murray’s attention at one stage in the Bautista Agut match was captured by a woman seemingly drinking quite heavily. This as we’ve seen recently from Nick Kyrgios at Wimbledon and Djokovic at this Australian Open, is usually a problem for tennis players. Murray takes a different approach, after winning a game he gestures a pint glass to his lips and encourages the woman to go and get another drink. Murray a man accused throughout his career of not having a personality due to having a somewhat dour voice, shows more personality on the court than practically anyone. You feel you know him better from his on-court persona than virtually anyone else. Murray himself said it best after the Kokkinakis match: “I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve, and shown my emotions. I’ve been criticised alot for it over the years, but that’s who I am.”

"Murraycoaster" can be used not just to define Murray matches, but also his career as a whole. He becomes just the second man to lose his first 4 Grand Slam finals, there is the heartfelt, emotional speech after falling short against Roger Federer at Wimbledon. Then suddenly come the highs, he wins Olympic Gold avenging the loss to Federer, he wins his first Major at Flushing Meadows outlasting the Marathon man himself Novak Djokovic, then beats him again to win the one all Brits wanted over any other, he’s Wimbledon Champion. Then there’s injury problems, only 1 major final in the next 2 years, but then comes the best year of his career 2016, Murray reaches 3 major finals, wins his second Wimbledon title, becomes the first singles player to win 2 Olympic Golds and becomes year end number 1. Now after the greatest high, comes the lowest low, Murray is suffering badly with his hip, in so much pain he feels retirement is the only option, though he struggles to even say the word at the 2019 Australian Open, so badly does he want to play on. And play on he does, this time with a metal hip, but it isn’t like before, wins are fewer and further between. The Australian Open has brought him closer to having one last high, one last deep run in a slam, and though this wasn't to be the time, you feel he won’t stop trying until he gets there again.

Andy Murray at the peak of his powers was one of the best defenders and returners the game has ever seen, his ability to read serves and his extraordinary hand-eye co-ordination would see him regularly make some of the biggest servers the game has ever seen look redundant. He would take your weapons and use them against you, the big-hitters would see their power neutralised and feel the need to keep hitting bigger and bigger until they were over-hitting and sending it long, he forced those mistakes out of your game. He would take you into long rallies and with clean and precise hitting carve out a high IQ point, where he would know the angles on the court better than the opponent, and either work the point to a stage he could hit a brilliant winner or wait for the error to come from the other end. His brand of tennis saw him reach 21 Grand Slam semi-finals, going onto the final 11 times, in Men’s tennis’ strongest ever era.

Multiple factors such as his time side-lined off the court and aswell being the first player to ever compete in singles tennis with a metal hip have meant that the Murray of today isn’t that same player. He loses more, he loses to average players, players who in his prime he would beat in straight sets now do the same to him. Much of what made Murray the number 1 player in the world 7 years ago is no longer part of his game. The serve is rarely what it was, the movement is hampered, the speed of his reaction’s not what they were. So what is Murray left with? he’s left with the same dogged determination and hunger for the fight which once saw climb to the very top of the rankings ahead of the 3 greatest men to ever hold a racquet, he’s left with the same passion and love for the game he’s played for over 30 years, a love that saw him reject doctors' verdicts that he could never return to professional sport with a metal hip and that same unquenchable thirst to win the next point. How far that will take him in the remaining years of his career remains to be seen, yet one thing is certain, Andy Murray won’t be writing himself off.  

[tanadrin]

The Encyclopedia of Things To Come: The Dhambaliya Commune

The Dhambaliya Commune was a century utopian community established on Dhambaliya (formerly Bremer Island) in the early 22nd century; it later moved to Marchinbar Island to the north, after the Outback War and the re-establishment of the authority of the Second Australian Republic in most of the former Northern Territory.

The Commune grew out of the New Farm Group, an informal community of heterodox Buddhists, New Age spiritualists, transhumanists, entheogen and research chemical enthusiasts, and cyberneticists which formed in Brisbane in the 2110s. Three leaders in this community, later dubbed by members of the the Commune "the Three Mothers," formulated a plan starting in 2122 at creating an intentional community on the outskirts of the city, or perhaps on the West Coast of the United States. Increasing political instability in California, which would later erupt into the Californian Anarchy, and the repressive political and religious climate of the First Australian Republic (proclaimed in 2124) caused the Mothers to look further afield. Northeastern Arnhem Land had by that time been rendered effectively desolate, due to a combination of rising temperatures and repeated droughts. Although inhospitable and remote, many members of the New Farm Group considered the challenge of building a self-sufficient community in the north to be a matter of mere engineering problems and can-do spirit, and motivated by a desire to pursue their transhuman agenda away from the oversight of any government's regulatory authority, Dhambaliya was decided upon as the ideal location. The Mothers left Brisbane in June of 2127, with three groups of followers departing by the end of the year.

Despite initial ambition and optimism, the Commune encountered numerous unforseen difficulties in their first four years. Breakdowns of solar power and water desalination equipment nearly caused catastrophic failures in 2129 and 2130, frustrations over competing visions of the Commune's organization and goals resulted in chronic political friction, and a short-lived breakaway community was established on the opposite end of the island in 2132. But by 2134, most of these initial difficulties had been ironed out; the Commune established a reliable satellite communications link to the rest of the world, and acquired a small cargo ship, the Arafura Voyager, which made regular supply trips to Makassar and Port Moresby. Once firmly established, the research program of the Commune began in earnest, with its ultimate goal being, as the Mothers and their followers saw it, the complete liberation of the human soul from the shackles of its body.

Although influenced by both Buddhist and Gnostic thought, the philosophy of the Commune was itself strictly materialist. They held no illusions regarding the possibility of the transmigration of the soul, of a cosmic karmic force, or of an ultimate divinity from which the human intelligence derived. Indeed, they saw these things not as preexisting properties of humankind, but as goals to be reached: that they could achieve, through a combination of advanced biology and cybernetics, a means by which to make them a reality. Initial progress was promising; members of the Commune submitted papers to several well-regarded sodality journals and preprint servers throughout the 2130s and 40s, and their research contributed to early breakthroughs in the development of robust BCIs, cognitive assistance tech, and language-sharing modules. But by 2150, their resarch output slowed to a crawl, and contact with the outside world dwindled. In 2157 it ceased entirely, and the assumption was that the Commune had failed. By that point the Greater Indonesian Campaigns and civil unrest in Australia made the Arafura Sea region extremely dangerous, and no relief or rescue mission was possible. The New Farm Group had been forcibly dispersed a decade earlier, and what friends the Commune had in the rest of the world were few, and widely scattered. In 2163, against all hope, a garbled radio was received in Port Moresby, evidently from the Commune, but signaling that they were now to be found on Marchinbar Island. A few federal patrols during the Outback War traveled as far as the Gove Peninsula, but they did not land on Dhambaliya.

Real news of the fate of the Commune had to wait until 2176. Four years before, the Chilean historian and adventurer José Ramón Higgins, had become fascinated by the mystery of the Lost Commune. Fuller understanding of the public work of the Commune in the 2160s had caused some scientists to believe that the Commune's research was not only cutting edge, but involved an understanding of the human brain, and the mechanisms of consciousness, perhaps decades ahead of the rest of the world, and Higgins suspected that the Lost Commune perhaps contained a treasure trove of scientific information. He even argued that it was possible the Commune still existed, and had merely withdraw from the rest of the world; after all, if their research had really leapfrogged the mainstream scientific community that much, they might see little value in continued traffic with the outside world. It took until 2176 for Higgins to accumulate enough financial support and clearance from the Australian government, and he reached the original site of the Commune, at the southwestern end of Bremer Island, in May of that year.

At that location, little of substance was found. Some derelict temporary shelters, the dock that the islanders had built, and some debris; a small graveyard testified to the difficulties encountered in the island's first few years. There was also a stone marker, planted on the beach, pointing north to Marchinbar. Higgins proceeded there three days later, and spent nearly two weeks, first circling the island and then using drones to survey its interior, looking for any trace of the Commune. He was on the verge of departing in defeat, when one of the survey drones uncovered evidence of an underground bunker on the northwestern coast, facing Jensen Bay.

Careful investigation showed that the area around the bunker entrance had, in fact, been built on decades prior; but the structures once present there had then been methodically dismantled, and the ground swept to obscure their presence. A few traces of underground infrastructure hinted at plumbing, electricity, and other amenities--evidently, a quite prosperous little community had existed on the island at one point. The bunker entrance plunged down at a steep slope, straight into the bedrock underneath the island; although the outer door was unlocked, a heavy concrete cap had been placed at the opposite end of the tunnel: whomever had built the bunker had, evidently, not intended to come out. Higgins dithered on whether to breach the bunker; if somehow, still occupied, the act might be taken as aggressive; but in the end, his notorious curiosity won out. It took careful drilling and blasting over the course of nine days to dislodge the cap and the locked steel door beyond.

Inside, Higgins discovered what amounted to a cozy residence for several dozen souls, and supplies to last them perhaps eighteen months; there was evidence that some nine months' additional supplies had already been consumed. Attached to the central living area of the bunker was a large computer system of unusual design, but evidently built more for robustness than performance, connected to an old-style fission power generator locked in a maintenance cycle. On restarting the generator, the computer sprang to life; and on it, Higgins discovered the history and the final testament of the Dhambaliya Commune.

The Commune had indeed withdrawn from the world intentionally, feeling that they were on the verge of important breakthroughs which alas, due to the unstable political situation then prevailing, could have both enormous benefits and catastrophic consequences. They hoped to perfect their new technology, which amounted to a form of whole-mind simulation, and to share it with the world once a more peaceful atmosphere prevailed. They were optimists, of course; they were utopians. One must be a sort of optimist to think any kind of Utopia is possible. But, alas, they also fell prey to their own hopes, and in the end, their technology failed.

They called the core beliefs of their community the Triple Insight, and credited each of the Three Mothers with one-third of it. Amitabha, the nickname of the first mother, had attributed to human thought the quality of *emptiness*: specifically, an emptiness of attention, an emptiness of control; she had held that the consciousness of the human brain was a kind of illusion, or half-consciousness, one which lacked the kind of meta-insight and meta-control that would be necessary to call a being truly self-aware. Ksitigarbha, the second mother, had held that this metaconsciousness was necessary for the true condition of free will: that only when the mind itself was amenable to self-modification, free from the constraints imposed by a fixed biology and billions of years of evolutionary history, could a condition worthy of that name be achieved. And Avalokitesvara, the third mother, had provided the means: a theoretical architecture that would permit the creation of a self-modifying machine, based in certain ways on the architecture of the human brain, but in others on more ideal systems, which could support the sort of being which the three envisioned.

Despite the esoteric jargon and melange of religious traditions in which the Mothers couched their philosophy, the technical descriptions provided in the archives were perfectly transparent and exceedingly exact. A minutely detailed research program and experimental logs testified to the scientific credentials of the Commune's members, but it also demonstrated why they had thought it necessary to withdraw from the rest of the world to work on their projects. They experimented on their own bodies and nervous systems, and on each others', with a frighteningly cavalier attitude: always by consent, but often with incredible risk. It soon became clear that not a few of the deaths the Commune had suffered in its early years were due, not to environmental hardship, but to experiments in BCIs and brain scanning gone tragically awry. The Mothers had wept at each of these deaths, but they comforted themselves and their followers with the urgency of their mission, and the majesty that would accompany their eventual success.

When a stable system of mind simulation was finally developed, at first it produced only horrors, horrors possibly greater than they had already inflicted on one another. Beings which, lacking any kind of embodied reference for their cognition, twisted in madness alone in the darkness. Unlike the human mind, which seemed to grow quiescent in the absence of stimuli, these were creatures of pure thought that could not extinguish their own sense of being; but neither could they interact with the world, which was totally dissevered from them. The first such simulations had to be euthanized, and a great deal of work invested in creating a sufficient simulacrum of physical existence to permit anything remotely like a human intelligence to be instantiated.

The crowning achievement of their work was what they called the Thoughtform Device. It could produce either a rough scan of a human mind, requiring invasive surgery but barring complications not causing serious harm; or, if the skull were opened, it could be used to create a highly-detailed scan of a brain, down to nanoscale details, at the cost of completely destroying it. Once scanned, either in general detail and either interpolated with artificial data, or in fine detail, the structures and patterns of the human brain could be mapped to software constructs, which facilitated a gradual restructuring of consciousness away from what the Mothers called the acoustic model, to what they called the divine fire.

The Mothers explained it thus: that the human brain should be imagined as a series of small nodes, each too primitive to be analogized even to an advanced computer, but operating in tandem in sophisticated ways that, as an emergent property, produced patterns far more advanced than, until recently, any human-made machine could imitate. But the ground-level simplicity of the mind, and its dependence on properties which manifested only in vast aggregates of its elements, limited it: human consciousness was dependent on patterns of neuronal firing, patterns of interactions of these nodes, triggered by sense-sensation, by biological fluctuations, by the happenstance arising and falling away of thoughts, and thus ebbed and advanced like waves on a seashore, or like sounds echoing within a vast and sophisticated series of caves. The divine fire, the spark which they sought, was a mind which could distribute or unify its attention at will: which could refract itself into a hundred pieces, each attending to some small task, or unify itself to accomplish some greater one, with no loss or diminishment of total capacity. A mind which, rather than being dependent on patterns of echoes arising and falling away each moment as external sensation buffeted it, passively observes the world, action arising authentically and originally from within.

They held no illusions about how the Thoughtform Device functioned. The coarse scan was only a rough copy of a human being: the beings it instantiated bore only a passing resemblance to their exemplar, and quickly dissolved back into nothing. The fine scan, the burning scan, was death. It would create a new being, but this was not the same as the one who died to give it birth. They would be dead; their consciousness would cease. The creature that took its place in the simulated environment would be a cousin, a sibling, perhaps a child; it would have their memories and hopes and dreams, but it would diverge rapidly, achieving a new identity and a new purpose, according to its new mode of existence. Yet though it came at the cost of their own lives, the members of the Commune marveled at, delighted in, and loved dearly these new children. One by one they submitted to the Thoughtform Device; one by one they died; and one by one new being were reborn in their stead.

It was only after this process was well underway that, to their immense grief, the Mothers finally apprehended its flaws. Though the underlying principles were sound, the virtual ecosystem they had built to support their children was insufficient to the task. Necessary approximations and optimizations, which had seemed to be harmless at the beginning, proved over time to result in accumulated errors that produced false memories, hallucinations, and profound distress in the simulated beings. They could be reset to an earlier state, but this was a stopgap, and it was anyway a process that felt intolerably violent to the Mothers, like a lobotomy. Feverishly they worked to augment and amend their systems, but the malfunctions, they discovered, would accumulate at a geometric rate; to permit any kind of long-term survival for their children, they would have to be virtually entirely eliminated, and that would require, using technology then available, a system the size of a small moon, which operated painfully slowly.

It was this failure, in the end, that broke their dream. The remaining flesh-and-blood members of the commune, grief-stricken either at the thought of abandoning their children or continuing their work in vain, devised a plan for the long-term storage of their data. The bunker was built to keep the children safe, for centuries, even millennia if need be, sleeping a cold sleep akin to death, their minds preserved as data physically etched onto a durable polymer substrate. And at last, when everything was prepared and the bunker had been sealed shut, the last members of the commune and the mothers themselves lay down within the Thoughtform Device, and followed their brothers and sisters into the darkness. The bodies of these last martyrs, Higgins noted with some confusion, were nowhere to be found.

At first the tale that Higgins returned with was deemed an utter fabrication; but he had proof, and the technical knowledge he returned with astounded the scientific community. They agreed that the Mothers had been right--there was not enough computing power in the entire world to support even one of the thoughtforms without fatal malfunction within a year. The utopians were dead, and their legacy could not be saved. Worse, the other technologies they had developed in pursuit of their goals created a great deal of unease. The authoritarian First Australian Republic had, in its last desperate years, had sought to extend its surveillance state to an unprecedented degree, and flirted with a kind of totalitarian control that, if combined with sophisticated BCI techniques, might have produced unspeakable atrocities. The Pan-Indonesian Federation feared, not unjustly, the weaponization of such technology against their member states; and not a few commentators said it would have been better if Higgins had let the ghosts of the last generation lie. A team from the University of Tokyo visited the site of the bunker in 2159, and made a partial copy of the recordings of the mind-states it contained--but pointedly avoided retrieving any controversial technology. The tunnel was then sealed again, and travel to Marchinbar was banned by international treaty. Forty years later, an ASEAN patrol craft noted that the Jansen Bay site was now entirely obscured by overgrowth; but that someone had left a small stone monument on the shore, imploring the passerby of some far-off day to spare a thought for the dead below, and to redeem them, if they could.

See also: “Human Improvement Board (Australia),” “Australian Civil War,” subsection “Crimes against Humanity,” “Piracy in the Arafura Sea,” “Outback Wars,” “Alice Springs Massacre,” “Committee of Public Safety (Australia),” “Greater Indonesian Campaigns,” “Thirty Years’ War (Southeast Asia),” “Clonal Network of Xi,” “José Ramón Higgins,” “Brisbane Commune,” “Cape York Rebellion,” “History of BCI,” subsection “BCI in the 22nd Century.”

[stanskzseungmin]

Operation Miroh | Stray Kids Mafia! AU ~ Chapter 8

Sorry this one took a while. I was trying a different more disjointed writing style to try and create the imagery for this chapter. Took a while because I trashed and redid this chapter like 4 times lmao. Hope you enjoy it <3

~Masterlist~

Chapters:  0.1, 0.2, 0.3, 0.4, 0.5, 0.6, 0.7, 0.8, 0.9

1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7

The atmosphere was tense.

The heavy stench of death lingered.

There were so little activity yet it felt as if the dead were back with a vengeance.

~

Heavy panting can be heard as a pair of hands grab at the screen before them.

~

The pristine beach is now a mass grave.

The beautiful clean sand that almost seemed to glow and glisten breathtakingly under the hot sun on a clear yet cloudy day.

~

Somewhere else in the meantime.

It was dark and silent. There were barely any lights. The only lights presents were blinking and on the verge of dying.

The air that once permeated with mutual content and comfort that a family shared, was now tense as a chill traveled up all of the building’s inhabitants' spines. There was no loud yelling. No laughter. No pitter pattering of feet. Just a dark and silent home where ten lived in harmony. 

But of the ten, two were not present: one on the verge of death.

~

The sea sparkled a brilliant blue hue, The dark color perfectly complemented the clear blue sky.

~

The silence was distrubed by a loud metal clattering. There were loud exhales and gasps of disbelief. The medic/engineer collided with the metal cart of supplies behind him as his hands frantically grabbed at the cool metal to maintain balance. His eyes were blown out in shock as panic and fear wracked through his system as it got harder and harder to breathe.

~

The clean beachside front is now polluted and littered with rubble and residue, The tan grains of sand now dyed and stained a brilliant red. The pristine clean and clear water is now filled with lifeless corpses, the bodies floating and swaying with the waves as their faces remained frozen in a silent scream and dead eyes. 

An explosion can be heard in the distance. A demolitionist was in full sprint towards the so called “Paradise.” As he ran, he was pursued, but the pursuers were quickly disposed of by the demolitionist dropping homemade pocket C4 like breadcrumbs.

~

The medic/engineers stared at the third screen down on the left column in horror. The once vibrant green screen signifying excellent health now glowed a menacing red. A sharp contrast to the eight greens surrounding and a singular almost as worrisome orange. 

The red screen.

리노

The heartbeat monitor displayed with a brilliant flashing red orange light has a singular word displaying on the lower left corner of the screen. 

DANGER

With haste, the medic/engineer barrelled out the room and down the hallway. The name of his leader erupted from his throat repeatedly as the inhabitants of the rooms past sprung out of the rooms appearing in the doorways ready, alert and worried. 

~

The demolitionist stood before two unconscious bodies. A pool of blood surrounded the pair as his shoes stepped into the darkening pool staining the dirt beneath him. 

He delicately pried the smaller body off the toxin specialist and very carefully slung both bodies over either shoulders.

||

“Seungmin! Put me down!” You exclaimed lightly hitting his back lightly with your balled fists. 

The chemistry student merely smirked at your immature antics.

The two of you weren’t friends per se, but you wouldn’t go as far as to call the both of you enemies. You were a bit of a goody two shoes and always go out of your way to report all suspicious activity on the campus. You had caught Seungmin picking on Jisung again and went up to the chemist to write him up. As per usual, Seungmin wasn’t having it. He never would.

And here you are now, pathetically slung over his shoulder as he carried you away. You knew where he was taking you. He took you there every time.

Seungmin pulled open the door of one of the more deserted janitor’s closet. It was so out of the way that it’s hardly any janitor’s first choice and it most definitely have a lack of nearby students. Hardly any students passed by here due to the shady and creepy atmosphere.

Even though the walled in city was safe, the paranoia of the dangers outside still lingered. The deserted hallways felt as if it had a distorted reality. There was no present danger but any who walked by without the proper constitution would get so wracked by paranoia where the imagined dangers seemed real. 

In the dark dusty room with a singular hanging bulb, Seungmin would toss you onto the ground. Your bottom met the floor ungracefully as Seungmin closed the door behind him quite harshly. The impact sent vibrations through the walls that would unsettle the dust as vision would slightly get hindered by the particles. You let out a small whine from the stinging pain radiating from the impact. Before you can protest or chide him, Seungmin would kneel before you and pull you into a bone crushing embrace and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

Your arms protest, grabbing and pushing at him and sometimes digging your nails into his shoulders in a dire attempt to make him let you go. Seungmin would let out a small puppy whine and pouted. You felt your defenses weaken at the sound and wanted nothing more but to let him in. Before you even had a chance to raise your arms to return the embrace, Seungmin would pull away with a shit-eating smirk as he brought his index finger to his lips ordering your silence. 

Seungmin was already out and gone with the door shut as he left before you could properly register what just happened, your mind still puddy from your lowered defenses. 

A soft click echoed through the silence.

Every time.

Seungmin got you every time.

And everytime you still lowered your defenses to let him in.

Only for him to leave you alone like a deer in headlights.

~

You swore Seungmin only existed to make your life a living hell. You always thought it was a waste of talent for a practically math genius Seungmin to pick on people. You knew blackmail when you see it.

Doesn’t mean you had immunity towards it. Not towards Seungmin at least.

You noticed how Seungmin and two others hanging around one of the campus’ empty buildings. You recognized the two being top students in their respective subjects.

They were definitely doing shady stuff.

Today however, looks as if it was only Seungmin that’s present. You never saw the other two from your not so discreet hiding spot under the shade of a tree with your nose pressed into a book. 

You rushed to follow Seungmin into the building once you see him disappear behind the closing door. 

You didn’t take that long to enter after the boy. You made it in before the door closed completely, but it seemed as if Seungmin vanished into midair.

Sighing to yourself, you began walking down the dimly lit hallway and peeked into every passing door’s window pane. You noticed how the hallways cameras were all facing down, the led next to the lens were off.

Why were the cameras off?

You also noticed the smoke detectors were also disabled. 

Your thoughts were cut off when you heard a loud explosion ripped through the silence. Your ears rang lightly as it seemed as if the world was moving.

“Seungmin?” You breathed out. Panic bubbled deep within your chest. “Seungmin? SEUNGMIN!”

“Wow, you can’t leave me alone, huh?”

You whipped around to see Seungmin himself in the flesh perfectly fine and uninjured just his attire and visage covered in dark soot. You let out a loud sigh of relief as you ran up to him wrapping your arms around his frame in a bone crushing embrace.

“Alright, dummy,” Seungmin chuckled patting your back lightly. “Did you really have that little faith in me that you genuinely thought I was hurt?”

Seungmin rubbed your back in circles as his other hand rested gently on your waist. You mumbled softly into his shoulders. “Absolutely not. Not at all. You’re totally bonkers, insane. You’re going to scale this building and I’m going to have to write you up. Or worse, writing an autopsy report.”

“Thank you,” Seungmin whispered into your ear resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I wasn’t serious.”

“I was.”

You pulled back slightly in confusion to see a genuine smile on his face with his eyes show a loving and touched emotion. You felt your lips twitch upwards upon sight of him looking so vulnera-

“Now stop stalking me, dummy creeper.”

You would most definitely hear a pin drop from the silence that followed.

You fell for it again.

~

“Wow [by 3RACHA], you actually came,” you perked up from the bench you were sitting on.

“Of course I did, dummy,” Seungmin smiled, putting his hands into his black hoodie pocket.

“No fucking with Felix?” you jested with a smirk playing on your lips.

“Do you not realize who I am?” Seungmin scoffed. “Let’s just say Felix won’t be leaving detention without being griefed.”

“You customized an exit denial device didn’t you?”

“Ooooh yea,” Seungmin chuckled. 

“It’s not an ice bucket above the door is it?”

“Lame.”

“Oh dear,” you hand went up to your cheek in worry for the freckled Australian.

“So how am I going to get up there?” Seungmin pointed to the roof, his eyes never leaving yours wearing a face of disbelief.

“Uhh… parkour?”

Seungmin quirked an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I didn’t think that far ahead...” you looked off to the side rubbing the back of your neck nervously.

“You give me a boost and launched me up there?”

“Bad idea.”

“I stand on your shoulder and you stand up?” Seungmin suggested slinging his arm around your shoulders while pointing upwards with his index finger.

“Even worse,” you shrugged off his arm.

“So what do you suggest?” 

“Just get on my back, I’ll carry you up.”

“Your noodle arms can carry me?”

. . .

~

“I hate this place,” Seungmin mumbled. His arms were loosely wrapped around your shoulders with his legs finding purchase hooked onto your waist, his chest flush against your back. 

You let out a loud exhale as you gripped on the window sill. You looked back to see Seungmin gazing longingly at the wall. That damned wall.

“What do you want to do?” You whispered as you continued your climb.

“I want to destroy the wall.”

Your hand reached over the edge of the roof one after another as you pulled the both of you up.

“You do know what is out there, right?” you settled down on the cold roof, bringing your knees to your chest,

“Yea,” Seungmin sat next to you pulling you into his lap as you both gaze at the wall. At your vantage point, you can see beyond the tall concrete walls lined with barbed wire at the top. 

“The walls protect us from dangers outside. So many mafias and gangs. So much corruption. That doesn't include all the murders and kidnappings.”

“But what if the true dangers aren’t what is out there? But in here? Those mafias exist for a reason. What if they’re rebelling against something from inside? The people here are hardly people anymore. They’re sheeple that can be herded by the shepherd called the government.”

“I don’t want to become like them,” you whispered. “What if the schools existed only to turn us all into sheeple, brainwashing us into the same system. Schools only exist to condition people to work 8 hours a day. I don’t  want to be like them. I don’t want to lose my humanity.”

“You won’t. I promise,” Seungmin whispered into your hair. “You see past the wall, right?”

“It’s dark and empty.”

“I know. Dark, so we won’t be attracted to the government’s light like moths only to discover it’s a flame and empty, so we could be free without any restrictions.”

“Wait, we?” you whispered, shock evident in your voice and you broke free from his embrace to face him.

“Of course, dummy,” Seungmin smiled genuinely. “I promise.”

Seungmin thought to himself right then and there, ‘I’ll get you out of here, I promise.’

“This better not be one of your stupid blackmails again, Shit-min.”

. . .

[cassnottiel]

hello!!! i've never sent a prompt before so i don't know if im doing this wrong or right lmao but for deke prompts could i suggest one where simmons or fitz (or them together) get protective of him maybe?

Deke Shaw was confused almost all the time.  Confused and frustrated.

He was confused in the future when a group of SHIELD agents hijacked his life.  When he tried to distance himself from the organization only to have his company attacked by a bizarro Coulson.  That time he was trapped with May, Daisy, Bizzaro Coulson and the Australian psychopath with the atom bomb he had to try and defuse.  And then the time he got possessed by an alien.

Confused and frustrated.  Mostly confused.

And now, he was on the verge of a shootout with whatever they were up against this week.  He wasn't even an official SHIELD agent.  He didnt know how it started.  He was so confused.

Deke got even more confused when the bullets started flying and people started shouting.

He dove for cover and turned the safety off on his gun.  He was about to start shooting when May crouched down next to him.  She set down a briefcase full of artifacts they were supposed to study.

"Get this back to the jet."  May ordered and jumped back into the fray before Deke could respond.

Deke was about to yell after her, to ask how the hell he was supposed to get out, but decided against it.  She was already busy with beating someone to half to death.  He sighed.

Deke took the case by the handle in his left hand and ducked to a different source of cover, shooting at the enemy with the glock in his right.  Whoever he was near would cover him as he made his way to the exit, until he was ten feet away.  That's when he got shot.

A stray bullet whizzed past Daisy and lodged itself into Dekes hip.  He went down with a shouted swear.  But he didn't forget his mission, he hugged the briefcase with both of his arms as he hissed in pain.  Nobody paid him any mind as he laid injured on the floor.

Well, nobody on his team paid him any mind.  People on the other team?  They paid attention to the idiot holding the precious cargo.  A big, scary man went unnoticed as he walked up to Deke.

Deke would have yelled out, asked for help, but Scary Man drew his gun and pointed it straight at Dekes forehead.

"Hand that over and you won't get any more injured than you already are."  Scary Man said, just loud enough to be heard over the fight.

Deke bit back his fear and glared at the man, hugging the case tighter to his chest.  He opened his mouth to shoot back some smartass comment, but it died in his throat when another bullet tore through his left shoulder.

"Give me the case."  Scary Man said slowly when Deke didn't drop it.  "Or the next one ends up in your brain."

"Go to Hell."  Deke said through a clenched jaw.  Scary Man raised his gun again.

"You first."

Deke was bleeding fast, with two entrance wounds and one exit.  He flinched back and turned his head away, ready for his impending doom, but it never came.

When Deke opened his eyes again, Scary Man had dropped his gun and had a bullet hole through his wrist.  Fitz stood a few feet away, a murderous look in his eyes.

"Get away from my grandson, you bastard."  Fitz said dangerously.  Scary Man could only be confused for a few seconds, because Fitz shot him with three icers.

As soon as the body hit the floor, Fitz was kneeling down next to Deke.

Dekes vision was getting fuzzy and dark around the edges, probably due to all the blood loss.  But he didn't have time to pass out.  He had to get the briefcase to the jet.

"Thanks, Bobo."  Deke said as loud as her could with the amount of blood leaving his body.  "Help me get up, will you?"  He dropped the case and tried to sit up.

Dekes vision went white and he almost fainted.  He groaned and screwed his eyes shut, barely fighting when Fitz gently pushed him back to lie down.

"No, no no, please-" Deke gasped out when Fitz put pressure on the shoulder wound.  "May told me to get the case to the jet, I need to--"

"Shut up and save your strength."  Firz snapped, shooting a glare to somewhere Deke couldn't see.  "I'll take care of the case.  You need to see Jemma."

Dekes vision was swimming, and he could barely hear anything anymore.  "No, no.  Don't make Nana worry.  She--"  he coughed, and something warm and wet trickled down his chin.

"Deke?"  Fitz's voice had a strange note of panic.  "Deke, come on, mate.  Stay with me.  Stay awake."

Deke did not stay awake.  He passed out.

He woke up back in the Lighthouse, in the infirmary.  The bright lights assaulted his eyes and he groaned,  bringing a hand up to rub his face.

"Oh, thank God!"

Deke almost flinched at the sudden voice.  He looked over and saw Simmons.  She looked pale and tired as she checked over his vitals.

"Hey, Nana," Dekes voice cracked from not being used in a while, "you okay?"

Simmons laughed, like it was a stupid question to ask.  Deke furrowed his brow in confusion.

"You lost almost a third of your blood volume after being shot twice, and you're asking me if I'm alright."  Simmons gave a watery smile as she sat down next to his recovery bed.

"That's a lot of blood."  Deke blinked in surprise.  "Am I alright?"

"You needed a transfusion.  Fitz gave two pints, I gave one."  Simmons said softly.

Deke was lost for words.  He started stammering.  "Thank you."  He finally stuttered out after what felt like an hour.  "Like, thank you.  And Fitz, thank you both so much."

Simmons laughed weakly.  "There's no need to thank us, we're family."  She set her hand on his as Deke rapidly blinked the tiredness out of his eyes.

"Well, thank you anyway."  Deke smiled and bit back a yawn.

"You're still a little low on blood."  Simmons said softly.  "You need to rest."

Deke nodded the best he could and let his head fall back on the pillow.  He closed his eyes and drifted off to unconsciousness.

He woke next to a loud scoff, a slamming door, and an exclamation.

"The nerve of the idiots that work here!"  Jemma Simmons said angrily.  Someone to Dekes left startled.

"Bloody hell, Jemma!"  Fitz hissed.  "Be quiet, you could wake him up!"

Even though Deke was awake, he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes.  He was still so tired.

"Sorry, sorry."  Simmons sighed.  "It's just--"  Deke heard her lean against something as she struggled for the right word.  "--the complete disrespect!"

Fitz set something down on the bedside table.  "What happened?"

"One of the newer recruits was talking about the mission and he said Deke shouldn't have been there."  Simmons wasn't angry, she was furious.  And based on the sound Fitz made, he was feeling something similar.  "Said he was a liability and he shouldn't be allowed in the field."

"That's ridiculous!"  Fitz said, a little but louder than needed.  Deke let out a quiet groan and he shifted slightly without opening his eyes.  Fitz and Simmons both went quiet.

Deke was hearing them, but he wasn't quite listening.  Their conversation was more background noise than anything else.

After a minute, the conversation started up again, quieter this time.

"That's ridiculous."  Fitz repeated, this time in a whisper.  "He got shot twice and still completed the mission."

"I know!"  Simmons sounded indignant.  "He put himself in harm's way for them, and they go and say he's useless when he's anything but."

There was a moment of silence.

"Are we acting like grandparents?"  Fitz's voice was quiet and confused.   Simmons laughed.

"I think we are."

"Huh," Fitz huffed, "feels weird."

There was another moment of silence.

"Are we telling him about this?"

"Oh, absolutely not."

"Can you two please shut up?"  Deke didn't bother opening his eyes when he asked.  "I'm tired."

That certainly shut them up.

[theewrites-tf2]

Coming April 10th...

“...Oh my freakin’ GOD, is he still talkin’ about the birds…?!” Scout snickered as he bounded out of respawn, and Sniper sighed.

“Yea’ mate, I dunno wants goin’ on, but he keeps going on about ‘em…”

“HAH! Maybe he’s finally freakin’ lost it- oh, oh WAIT, its that damn VODKA. Yea’, I bet the fumes of it got to his damn head, now he’s seein’ shi-!”

“Scout does NOT make fun of Russian vodka... or Scout no longer has arms.” The three men on call visibly winced at the bone-chilling tone in Heavys voice, while Scout started to stammer up a tough-guy rebuke, Engineer swiftly cut in to end the verbal feud, smacking his mid-upgrading dispenser between words.

“Okay, fellas, we’ve had our fun now let's all settle down-”

“OI, hol’ on a wee secon’... We talkin’ booze over ‘ere, cause laddies, have I got a scrumpy that’ll make yae WEEP-!”

By this point, several different conversations were occurring on the team radio, but after three minutes, a couple respawn-trip related pauses and a alert of sentry-sapping, Soldiers roaring, empowering and always on the verge of cracking from over-use voice could be heard throughout the base, a sudden and chilling warning as his haunting last word echoed. “BIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRDS!”

Immediately following the exclamation, there was a ding, indicating that the American-enthusiast had taken a respawn trip, and every one on the radio call paused, allowing Heavy to add in, almost grmly, “Leetle birds ARE dangerous. Heavy warned team, but team does not listen.” A horrified, dawning realization overcame the battle-hardened mercenaries, but Scout still scoffed, “A-ain’t no way in hell.” He insisted, though his tone was shaky, suggesting he was slowly turning traitor on his thoughts of the supposedly ‘harmless’ birds. “Last I checked, we ain’t nowhere NEAR the pigeon-population of Boston, and THOSE bastards are pure evil, I got the scars to prove it!!! Vultures around ‘ere all we got, and they're all wussies!”

“Reckon ya correct, boy… Still, wouldn’t mind givin’ the bridge a lil’ looksie, would ya? See what exactly the big-fellas goin’ on about?” Engineer inquired, and there was a brief pause, “....Well… why can’ Demo do it, huh!?”

“... Mate... are ya scared-?!”

“N-no,’m just sayin’, he’s closer-!”

“Mate, ‘m lookin’ attcha right now-” “Creeper.” “-ya are literally less than a minute from the bridge, just go ‘n check it out!”

Scout groaned, long and tiredly, pausing to crack his bat over the head of the passing enemy Pyro, the impact of metal-vs-cranium hardly causing the mercs listening in to hardly wince or bat an eye, the sound already being so frequent on this battlefield… unlike birds that potentially sent an offense-class mercenary to respawn, and induced the Heavys wrath without immediate death. “Freakin’, FINE. But ya bozos should go check on Solly, I haven’t heard him since he hit respawn.”

“Leetle birds got him… like birds got sandvich…” “Man, shut it!” Scout whined, clearing feeling on edge at the dreaded implications that recent events were slowly starting to point to. “They under the bridge, or whatever?” Heavy grunted in affirmation, and Scout set his feet a course for the center cover-bridge on the battle, but not before he heard a amused scoff on the radio, before the Australian inquired, “Hey, wait, didja say that you were scarred by pigeons?”

Scout sputtered out a vague response, a defensive curse and a “SHUT UP!” at the bemused Australian, before shutting off his radio whilst the sharp-eyed mercenary chuckled, packing up his gun and deciding that offering a check-in to respawn and finding out the details wouldn’t hurt…

Kudos to @wolf-boiii for the One-Shot idea, which can be found HERE, check it out!!!!

See y’all with the FULL One-shot on April 10th!!!!!

[gumnut-logic]

Expected & Unexpected

Title: Expected & Unexpected

Author: Gumnut

19 May 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: He had brothers. It was inevitable, but sometimes unexpected. A little add on to Season 3 Episode 10

Word count: 1676

Spoilers & warnings: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3 EPISODE 10

Timeline: Episode Tag

Author’s note: For @thunderstorm-bay (you know why). Many thanks to @scribbles97 for the read through and reassurance :D

This is little and has little purpose and doesn’t really go anywhere, but it is what it is. @thunderstorm-bay you are welcome to throw a prompt at me, as this doesn’t count enough, I don’t think :D I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Thunderbird Two hit Australian air space growling. Skirting across Cape York, she shed speed, frozen exhaust wafting off in white clouds, her pilot finally drawing in breath as her sensors scanned the condition of TB4.

“What the hell, Gordon?” Virgil stared at the corrosion of her shell. “What did you do to her?”

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault!”

John had said Thunderbird Two was needed urgently, but he’d been caught up in China saving miners from a collapse. Virgil had dropped everything as soon as possible, but he knew he was going to be too late.

There had been a number of very bad moments.

“I didn’t say it was your fault! What is your condition?”

“I’m fine.”

He kicked in VTOL on approach to the platform, settling TB2 into a secure hover.

Triggering a separate comline, he interrogated another brother. “John, are you sure he is okay?”

“What I can read is good. I’m sure he has neglected to mention the need to change out of his uniform. It disintegrated during the incident.”

Of course. “Any injury?”

“None I can detect, none he is owning up to. Because he isn’t wearing his uniform I haven’t got full detail. Also, without full access to TB5, I have only the basics to work with anyway. Eos is relaying what she can. Do me a favour and clap him up the head for me?”

Virgil’s lips thinned. IR was stretched to the limit today.

He had to admit, Gordon on a rescue without his backup was rare, and to be honest, today’s situation had scared the living shit out of him. Scott was inbound from the other side of the planet, no doubt as concerned as he. It wasn’t that Virgil didn’t have confidence in his brother’s skill, it was just...

Shit.

That had been close.

Flick over the comline. “Status of the wreck?”

“Secure. We’ve frozen the contents. Should keep it contained for a number of hours. Long enough to get Bio-rescue out here.” A pause. “Everything is fine, Virg. Take a deep breath.”

Surprisingly, Virgil did as he was told. He bit his lip. “Okay, I’m coming down.”

“There really is no need to-“

“I’m coming down.”

“Okay, I’ll get Parker to make us some tea.”

-o-o-o-

It was inevitable, he supposed. His big brothers were worry warts. With Virgil in China, Scott in the US, Alan and John on the moon, and Kayo in Spain it had been one hell of a day. Adding in his little rescue had just piled more on top of it all.

When Penny had said that his brothers would say he was there to rescue people, not save a reef, she had been right, but Gordon Tracy hadn’t spent his life underwater as a marine biologist and researcher to ignore a cry for help, no matter the voice. The reef may not save human lives in the short term, but long term was an entirely different matter.

And besides, considering the life the reef supported, who said International Rescue was restricted to human lives anyway?

He could feel Scott’s glare from across the Pacific.

At least Virgil should be easy once he had calmed the man down. Nothing scared the medic more than a brother in danger, and, well, yeah, he’d managed that quite well today.

The sight of his green behemoth roaring into a hasty hover above the pink and white platform was a clear illustration of his brother’s worry. That was one hell of an entry.

The zipline hitting the landing pad besides where he was standing made its own point and the thud of specialised boots hitting that same surface, equally determined.

Virgil shed his helmet the moment he landed, striding over to Gordon. The aquanaut squared his shoulders, ready for verbal warfare.

But Virgil didn’t say anything. His eyes just raked over his brother, scanning for hidden injury, no doubt.

“I’m okay, Virg, I promise.” A lopsided smirk. “Don’t you trust me?”

Those concerned brown eyes flared.

“Virgil! So nice to see you!” And Penny was striding across the pad towards them, both Parker and Bertie trailing behind.

The TB2 pilot was expertly distracted, turning to greet Penny with his usual polite manner.

“We are in debt to Gordon for saving so many lives today. International Rescue has performed a great service to the world in saving this reef. Its loss would have been a devastation beyond repair.”

Gordon hid a smirk as Virgil straightened. “No doubt, Lady Penelope.”

Nope, his brother didn’t have a hope.

A grin and he wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “C’mon, Virg, relax, have a cup of tea. Let Scott do all the yelling. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

“Thunderbird One on approach in ten minutes.” John had obviously been eavesdropping.

“Yay, we have ten minutes before he chews my head off. Parker brought cookies.” He didn’t miss Parker’s mumbled ‘biscuits’ at that comment.

Some of the tension dropped from Virgil’s shoulders and Gordon let his own breath out. At heart Virgil was a big softie. Gordon was pretty sure that now his second eldest brother knew he was okay, he would actually stand up for him when eldest eldest brother started the yelling. And Gordon would put up with the meticulous medical exam in his near future if he had to.

“Sorry, I wasn’t here for you.”

He almost didn’t hear it as they all turned to walk inside. Gordon shot his brother a look. “Hey, I’m okay. It all worked out.”

Virgil’s lips thinned.

Oh, okay, so perhaps this went deeper.

Virgil was perfectly polite and calm as he was offered tea and ‘biscuits’, and as predicted TB2’s hovering roar was added to as IR’s scout vessel tore into orbit of the platform and landed beside FAB1 on the pad. It was less than a minute before Scott was led into the room by a confident Penny.

Why did Gordon feel like the school principal had just walked into the room?

His big brother parroted Virgil’s initial bodily assessment. Gordon didn’t bother to get up and continued to munch on his cookie. Hey, he deserved it. It had choc chips.

“Gordon, you okay?”

He blinked. Scott was still staring at him. “I’m fine.”

“Good.”

And Scott sat down across from him and grabbed a cookie himself. Parker poured him some tea.

Gordon froze and stared. What?

“Nice cookies, Parker.”

“They’re still biscuits, Master Tracy.”

Scott rolled his eyes.

Gordon couldn’t stop staring. “Aren’t you going to yell at me?”

His brother straightened in his seat. “What? Why?”

“I distinctly remember you yelling at me from across the Pacific at least twice during this rescue. I’m expecting follow through.”

Scott shrugged. “You’re okay, aren’t you. You saved the people; you saved the reef. A job well done all round.” He stole another cookie.

“But-“

“Thunderbird One, Thunderbird Three reporting situation resolved and on return to base.”

Gordon’s eyes widened as Scott’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “That is great to hear, John.”

“Hey, Gordy, hear you’ve been having some fun.” Comms sparked with his little brother’s tired voice. “Way to scare the shit out of everyone.”

“I did what I had to do!” What the hell was it with protective brothers?

“And he did a damn good job.” Scott’s deep voice cut across the conversation stilling everyone. “It had its moments.” And those big brother blue eyes pinned him - there it was, the concern he had been expecting. “But he got the job done in the best way possible. Better than any of us. Gordon was the man for the job and he did it.”

The man for the job was just staring. “Oookay.”

Scott frowned at him a moment before standing up and turning to the man beside Gordon. “Virg, you need to return to base and collect module four.” His brother nodded and rose, taking the order despite the fact Gordon knew Virgil had already planned to do exactly that anyway. “Gordon, finalise the situation here and prep Thunderbird Four for transport. Brains is waiting to check her over.” As Virgil excused himself and made his exit, Scott turned to their hosts. “Thank you for assisting Gordon on the rescue Lady Penelope and Parker.” A single nod in each of their directions. “It is very much appreciated.”

Gordon was still staring.

“You are most welcome, Scott. We were very glad to help.” Penny was smiling at Gordon.

“Sorry to eat and run, but we need to get our resident aquanaut home.”

Huh?

“Yes, of course.” And that smile of hers was verging on a laugh. She had a twinkle in her eye.

And Scott offered him his hand to help him out of his seat.

What the hell?

He grabbed his brother’s grip and stood up, staring at Scott the entire time.

Scott ignored his expression and, instead, wrapped an arm about Gordon’s shoulders and led him out onto the landing pad and into the shadow of Thunderbird One. The air was quietening as TB2 roared off into the distance. “Seriously, Gordon, you did great today.”

“I did.”

“You did.”

“I know.” He grinned up at his brother. “Sorry if I scared you.”

“Not the first time. I could hope it will be the last, but I don’t think that is possible.”

Gordon’s grin widened.

“Now, I have no doubt we’ll be called out again soon. We need to move Four while we can. Virgil will be back shortly.” A half smile. “See you back at the ranch.”

TB1 lowered her pilot’s chair and Gordon found himself stepping back as Scott launched her into the air. A blink and she was gone.

“What do you think that was about?”

He jumped. Penny stepped up beside him. “I dunno. Virg was just scared, but Scott? I expected a roasting and got compliments instead.”

“You did a good job. Despite scaring all of us. Try to do less of the latter in the future, please.”

He glanced at her, remembering their earlier conversation. “Yes, m’lady.”

-o-o-o-

FIN

[alpha-incipiens]

Favourite music of the decade!

This is some of what I’d consider the most innovative, artistic and just great to listen to music from 2010-2019.

First a Lot of very good songs:

Crying - Premonitory dream

Arcade Fire - Normal person

Sufjan Stevens - I want to be well

Deerhunter - Sailing

Foster the People - Pumped up kicks

Carly Rae Jepsen - Boy problems

Grimes - Butterfly

Travis Scott - Butterfly effect

Future - March madness

Kanye West ft. Nicki Minaj et al - Monster

Juice Wrld - Won’t let go

Danny Brown - Downward spiral

Kendrick Lamar - Sing about me, I’m dying of thirst

Kate Tempest - Marshall Law

The Avalanches - Stepkids

Iglooghost - Bug thief

Vektroid - Yr heart

Ariel Pink - Little wig

Mac Demarco - Sherrill

Vektor - Charging the void

Jyocho - 太陽と暮らしてきた [family]

Panic! at the disco - Ready to go

The Wonder Years - An American religion

Oso oso - Wake up next to god

The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die - I can be afraid of anything

And my top 20(+2) albums:

Calling Rich gang’s style influential on trap would be like saying Nirvana may have had some impact on early-90s grunge. In 2019 with trap so omnipresent in popular music, hip hop or otherwise, through the impact of artists like Drake and Travis Scott it’s almost hard to remember when this was a niche genre - it was Rich gang that popularised its modern sound here. Birdman’s beats with their rattling hi-hats and deep bass could have been made 5 years later without arousing suspicion, while Rich Homie Quan and Young Thug deliver consistently entertaining flows and numerous bangers between them. Thugger, this being his first major project, steals the show with his yelpy and hilarious rapping style. This may have once been the defining sound of house parties in the Atlanta projects; now it can be heard blasting in the night from white people’s sound systems around the world.

Early 21p may have never aimed to be cool, to avoid a certain appearance of lameness, but they did have a knack for writing some really catchy pop with an optimistic message. To the devoted, the critics of Pilots’ apparent mishmash of nerdy rap, sentimental piano balladry and EDM production were just stuffy, wanting music to stay how it was back-in-the-day forever and unwilling to get with the times. This viewpoint is understandable when you approach this album openly and actually listen to Tyler Joseph’s lyrics about youthful anxiety and insecurity, delivered with real conviction and sincerity, actually recognise that disparate musical elements are all there for emotional punch. A few songs do underwhelm. But this is emo for post-emo Gen Z’s and it’s easy to see why to some it can be deeply affecting.

The musical ancestor to the ongoing and endless stream of ‘lo-fi hip hop beats’ youtube mixes, chillwave filled the same low-stress niche, and Dive released at the peak of the genre’s relevance. Tycho’s woozy, mellow sound prominently features rich acoustic and bass guitar melodies over warm synths, enhancing the music’s organic feel compared to that of purely digital producers in the genre. The experience of starting this album is like waking up in a soft bed, the cover’s gorgeous sunrise reddening the room’s walls, while a guitarist improvises somewhere on the Mediterranean streets outside. And it is indeed great to study or relax to!

Simple, minimal acoustic guitar and vocals. If you’ve got talent this type of music shows it, or else it doesn’t: perfect then for Ichiko Aoba. Her touch is light, her songs calm, meditative, in no rush to get anywhere. As if serenely watching a natural landscape, one can best understand and enjoy Aoba’s music in quiet and peaceful appreciation.

Through the incorporation of genres like shoegaze and alternative rock, Deafheaven managed to create a rare thing: a metal album that’s both heavy and accessible, needing no sacrifice of one for the other’s sake. Over these four main songs, there’s a sensation of being taken on an intense, atmospheric and even emotional journey, with the band stepping away from the negativity and misanthropy that dominates most metal. The vocals, closer to the confessionalism of screamo than classic black metal shrieks, express more sadness than they do aggression, and in respites between solid blaring walls of guitar and drums, calm pianos and gently strummed guitar passages set a pensive tone. This totally enveloping, flawlessly produced sound can take you away, like My Bloody Valentine’s best work, into a dream or trance.

By the late 2000s MCR had taken their thrones as the kings of a subculture formed from the coalition of goth, emo, scene and other assorted Hot Topic-donned kids, and earned a lifelong place in the hearts of many a depressed teenager. But after the generation-defining The Black Parade Gerard Way took off the white facepaint and skeleton costume, ditched the lyrics about corpse brides and vampires, and embraced an anthemic, purely pop punk sound. The silly story of Danger Days, set in a dystopian California where villainous corporations rule and only the Punks can stop them, serves as a kind of idealised setting for the all-out rebellion against authority and normality that so many fantasised about taking part in. The band’s electrifying performances are the most uplifting of their decade making music. For many diehards the upbeat sound here was a celebration that they’d made it through the most difficult years of their lives, and a spit in the face of those who’d done them wrong.

The teller of rural American tales, the indie legend, the teen-whisperer himself. John Darnielle, long past his early lo-fidelity home recordings and now backed by a full band, loses none of the heart his songs are famous for. The theme of the album, taken straight from John’s childhood when the pro wrestling on TV offered an escape from his abusive stepfather, is complemented by the country and Tex-Mex flavouring to the instrumentation. Some of the best lyrics in his long career infuse the stories of wrestlers with universal meaning - his characters try, fail, lose hope, reckon with their mediocrity, and when they step into the ring they’re up against all the adversity life can throw at them. John Darnielle’s saying that when that happens, you stand up and sock back.

Folk music was always a major part of the Scandinavian black metal scene during its peak years, so when American musicians began exploring the genre naturally they incorporated American styles of folk. The complex, oppressive and sometimes hellish compositions here, starkly contrasted with bluegrass that sounds straight from the campfire circle, give the impression of life in the uncharted woods of the American frontier, in the middle of a brutally cold winter. Almost unbelievably, one-man-band Austin Lunn plays every instrument on the album: multiple guitar parts, bass and drums as well as banjo, fiddle, and woodwinds.

Andy Stott seems to delight in making his music as unnerving, haunting, perhaps even scary, as possible. The female vocals these songs are built around become ghostly, echoing and overlapping themselves disorientingly. The percussion, audibly resembling metal clanging, rustling or rattling in the distance, is often left to stand for its own, creating a tense space it feels like something should be filling. UK-based club and dub music can be felt influencing the grimy almost-but-not-quite danceable rhythms here, but the lo-fi recording and menacing vibe makes this feel like a rave at some sort of dimly lit abandoned factory.

There’s so much Mad Max in this album you can just picture it being set to images of freights burning across the desert. True to its title, the nine songs on Nonagon Infinity roll into each other as if part of one big perpetual composition, with the end looping back seamlessly to the start and musical motifs cropping up both before and after the song they form the base of. With its fuzzy, raw sound, bluesy harmonica and wild whooping, the Gizz create a truly rollicking rock’n’roll experience. The band would go on to release 5 albums within twelve months a year later, but Nonagon shows these seven Australian madmen at the height of their powers.

Sometimes you just want to listen to fun, hyperactive pop. The spirit of 8-bit video game soundtracks and snappy pop punk come together to create a vividly digital world of sound that seems to celebrate the worldliness, connectivity and shiny neon colours of early 2010s internet culture and social media. The up-pitched vocals and general auditory mania recall firmly Online musical trends like nightcore and vocaloid, while the beats pulse away, compelling you to dance like this is a house party and the best playlist ever assembled is on. It demands to be listened to at night with headphones, in a room lit only by your laptop screen.

“You hate everyone. To you everyone’s either a moron, or a creep or a poser. Why do you suddenly care about their opinion of you?” “Because I’m shallow, okay?! … I want them to like me.”

The fact that that Malcolm In The Middle quote is sampled at the emotional climax of this record should give some idea to the absurdity that defines Brave Little Abacus. It’s not even the only sample from the show on here. And yet the passion and urgency so evident in Adam Demirjian’s lispy singing and the band’s nostalgia-inducing, even cozy, melodies are made to stir feelings. The tearjerker chords and guitar progressions are so distinctive of emo bands with that special US-midwest melancholia, and they are interspersed with warm ambiance and playful sound effects ripped from TV and video games, seemingly vintage throwbacks to a sunny childhood. Demirjian’s lyrics, yelled out as if through tears or in the middle of a panic attack, verge on word salad in their abstraction, but that’s not the point: you can feel his small town loneliness and sense the trips he’s spent lost on memory lane. The combined effect all adds to Just Got Back’s themes of adolescence and the trauma of leaving it. While legendary in certain internet communities for this album and their 2009 masterpiece Masked Dancers, the band remains obscure to wider audiences.

These Danish punks know how to convey emotion through their raw and dramatic songs. Elias Rønnenfelt’s vocal presence and charisma cannot be ignored: his husky voice drawls, at times breaks, gasps for breath, builds up the deeply impassioned, intense force behind his words. The band sounds free and wild, unrestrained by a tight adherence to tempo, often speeding up, slowing down or straying from the vocals within the same song, as if playing live. Instrumentally the command over loud and quiet, tension and release, accentuates the vocals in crafting the album’s pace. Horns and saloon pianos throughout give the feel of a performance in a smoky, underground blues bar, with Rønnenfelt swaying onstage as he howls the romantic, distraught, heartbroken lyrics he truly believes in.

At some point on first listening to Death Grips, a thought along the lines of “He really yells like this the whole way through, huh?” probably crosses the mind. When Exmilitary first appeared, quietly uploaded to the internet, the rapper’s name and identity unknown, another likely reaction among listeners might have been “What am I even listening to?” But perhaps more revolutionary than Death Grips’ incredibly aggressive sound and style might have been its foreshadowing of how over the next decade underground rap acts would explode into the mainstream through viral songs, online word of mouth and memes. It showed all you needed to come from nowhere to the top of the game was to seize attention, and it did that and far more. MC Ride’s intoxicatingly crass, intense rapping captures the energy of a mosh pit where injuries happen, the barrage of sensations of a coke high, while the eclectic mix of rock and glitchy electronics on the instrumentals is disorienting in the best way. If rap were rock and this was 1977, Death Grips would have just invented punk. Ride’s lyrics paint a confrontational, hyper-macho persona; unlike much hip hop braggadocio, the overwhelming impression given is that Ride truly does not care what anyone thinks. He just goes hard and does not stop. It’s music to punch the wall to.

Inspired by classic rock operas, this concept album represents some major ambition and innovation in musical storytelling. Delivered in frontman Damian Abraham’s gravelly shouted vocals, the complex lyrical narrative of the album follows a factory worker, an activist and their struggle against the omnipotent author (Abraham himself) who controls their fates. Featuring devices like unreliable narrators and fourth-wall breaking, it takes some serious reading into to untangle. But it’s the bright guitarwork, combining upbeat punk rock and indie to create some killer riffs, that gives the album its furious energy and cinematic proportions.

Joanna Newsom is enchanted by the past. Like 2006’s ambitious Ys, the music on Divers makes this evident with its invocation of Western classical and medieval music, throwing antiquated instruments like clavichords together with lush string orchestration, woodwinds, organs, folk guitar and Newsom’s signature harp. With her soulful, moving vocals leading the way, it’s hard not to imagine her as some kind of Renaissance-era country woman contemplating nature, love and mortality in the fields and the woods. As always Newsom proves herself a stunningly original and creative arranger with the sheer compositional intricacy and flow of these songs, and most of all the harmonious intertwining of singing and instrumental backing.

Burial’s music is born from the London night: the bustle of the streets, the faint sounds from distant raves, the buskers, the rain on bus windows. This EP’s dreamlike quality makes listening to it feel like taking a trip across the city well after midnight, watching the lights go by, with no idea where you hope to get to. Every single sound and effect on these two songs is so precisely chosen, from the shifting and shuffling beats, the swelling synths and wordless vocals that sound like a club from a different dimension, the ambient hiss and pop of a vinyl record. Musically this sound is drawn from UK-based scenes like 2-step and drum ‘n bass, but twisted into such a moody and abstracted form as to be nearly unrecognisable as dubstep. Just when this urban, dismal sound is at its most oppressive, heavenly soul singers or organs cut through like a ray of light in the dark.

There’s an imaginary rulebook of how construct music, how to properly make tempos and combinations of notes sound harmonious, and Gorguts have spent their career ripping it up and throwing it in the bin. On 1998’s seminal Obscura, their atonal experimentation sounded at times like random noises in random order. But listen closely to Obscura or Colored Sands, their return after a long hiatus, and the method behind the madness emerges. One mark of great death metal is that it’s impossible to predict what direction it will go even a few seconds in advance, and the band achieves this while presenting a heavy, slow, momentous sound. The density of inspired riffs, and the intricate balancing of loud and quiet, fast and slow paced throughout these songs are exceptional. In instrumental sections the guitars will echo out as if across a barren plane, then the song will build up to the momentum of a freight train. Behind the crashing and twisting walls of guitar the patterns of blast beat drumming are almost mathematical in nature. Luc Lemay’s harsh bellows sound like a warlord’s cry or a pure expression of rage to the void. It’s threatening, menacing, unapproachable, but it all makes sense in the end.

Futuristic yet deeply retro, Blank Banshee’s music takes vaporwave beyond its roots in the pure consumerist parody of artists like Vektroid and James Ferraro and makes it actually sound amazing. Songs are built out of a single vocal snippet processed beyond recognition, new agey synthesisers, Windows XP-era computer noises, hilariously out of place instruments, all set to the 808 bass and hi-hats of hip-hop style beats. The genre’s pioneers intentionally sucked the soul from their music using samples pulled from 70s and 80s elevators, infomercials and corporate lounges - here the throwback seems to be to the early 2000s childhood of the internet, and the influence of a time when email and forums were revolutionary can be felt. The effect of this insanity is an album that whirls by like a techno-psychedelic haze: the atmosphere of dark trap beats places you squarely in a 2013 studio one moment, the next you’re surrounded by relaxing midi pianos and humming that a temple of new age practitioners would meditate to. Still, at some point when listening to this album, perhaps when the ridiculous steel drums kick in near the end, you realise that this is all to some degree a joke, and a funny one. It’s hard to overstate what an entertaining half-hour this thing is.

While 2012’s Good Kid, m.a.a.d City presented a movie in album form of Kendrick’s childhood and early adult years, TPAB’s journey is one of personal growth, introspection, and nuanced examination of the state of race in post-Ferguson America. It’s simultaneously the Zeitgeist for the US in 2015 and a soul-search in the therapist’s office. Sounding deeply vulnerable, he openly discusses depression, alcoholism, religion and feelings of helplessness. The White House and associated gangstas on the cover give some idea to the album’s political themes, with Lamar contrasting Obama’s presidency to the political powerlessness and lifelong ghetto entrapment of millions of black Americans. Everything I’ve written about the lyrics here really only scratches the surface because the words here are substantive, complex and dense with meaning. Near enough every bar can be analysed for multiple meanings and interpretations, essays can and have been written on the overall work, anything less does not do justice. The musical versatility on display is astounding: the album acts as an extravaganza of African-American music, from smooth west coast G-funk to east coast grit, neo-soul and rock to beat poetry, and most of all jazz. Like an expertly laid character arc the record progresses through its ideas in such a way that they’re all impactful, with the slurred rapping imitating a depressed drunken stupor followed later by exuberant, defiant cries of “I love myself!”, the white-hot rage against police brutality balanced by the hopeful mantra: “do you hear me, do you feel me, we gon be alright”. Perhaps the most culturally significant album of the 2010s and an essential piece of the hip-hop canon.

This harrowing hour chronicles the struggles and everyday tragedy of a series of characters and their relationship with the city they live in, narratively driven by some outstandingly poetic lyrics. Jordan Dreyer’s wordy tales despair at the poverty, gang violence and urban decay in the band’s native Grand Rapids, Michigan, an almost childlike open-hearted naivete in his words as he empathises with the broken and alienated people in these songs. There’s no jaded sneer or sly lesson to be learned as he sings about the child killed by a stray bullet or the homebird left alone after all their friends move away, just genuine second-hand sadness and a dream that compassion and community will eventually heal the pain. Taking elements from bands like At the Drive-In’s fusion of punk and progressive, and mewithoutyou’s shout-sung vocals, La Dispute hones its sound to a razor edge to put fierce instrumental power behind the lyrics. Not an easy listen, but a sharply written songbook and a perfect execution on its concept.

Around 2008, Joanna Newsom met comedian Andy Samberg. Within a year, their relationship was becoming the basis upon which the poetry of Have One on Me was spun. Newsom’s lyrics, exploring her relationship with her future-husband, nature, death, spirituality, are above all else loving. Through her warm and vibrant voice, at times an operatic trill and in others deeply soulful, she expresses the joy of love for another, the peace and earthly connection of her beloved pastoral lifestyle, deeply affecting melancholy and grief. Contemplative, artful, genuine or expressive: every lyric in every sweet melody is used to offer her ruminations on life or overflowings of passion.

More so than her previous and next albums, the feel of the album is of not just a folkloric past but also the present day, with drums, substantial brass and string arrangements, and even electric guitar anchoring the sound to Newsom’s real, not imaginary, life in the 21st century. Yet songs here with moods or settings evoking simpler lifestyles and the women living them in 1800s California or the Brontës’ English moors still have a universal relevance. Whether rooted in past of present, the instrumental variety of these compositions, from classical solo piano, grand orchestral arrangements led by harp, to the twang of country guitars or intricate vocal harmonising, makes it apparent that this is the work of a master songwriter in full command of well over a dozen talented musicians. Ultimately, what makes this my favourite album of the decade is that, very simply, it is one stunningly beautiful song after another, all collated into a cohesive 2-hour portrait of Newsom’s soul.

[southeastasianists]

When Indonesia’s New Order regime met its end in May 1998, I was a PhD student researching Indonesian opposition movements while teaching Indonesian language and politics at a university in Sydney. Along with other lecturers and students, I watched the live broadcast of Suharto’s resignation speech, listening to the words of one of our colleagues as she translated the president’s fateful words for Australian TV. Clustered around a television screen in a poky AV lab, everyone present felt awed by the immensity of what we were witnessing, relieved that a dangerous political impasse had been broken, and nervously hopeful about the future after so many long years of political stagnation.

The extraordinary achievements of political reform in the years that followed formed one of the great success stories of the so-called “third wave” of democratisation—the worldwide surge of regime change that began in Southern Europe in the mid-1970s and then spread through Latin America, Africa and Asia. The post-Suharto democracy has now lasted longer than did Indonesia’s earlier period of parliamentary democracy (1950–1957), and the subsequent Guided Democracy regime (1957–65). While it still has another dozen years to pass the record set by Suharto’s New Order, Indonesian democracy has proved that it has staying power.

What few would question, though, is that the quality of Indonesia’s democracy was a problem from the beginning—and that under President Joko Widodo (Jokowi) democratic quality has begun to slide dramatically.

Earlier this year, the Economist Intelligence Unit gave Indonesia its largest downgrading in its Democracy Index since scoring began in 2006. With a score of 6.39 out of a possible maximum of 10, the country is now bumping down toward the bottom of the index’s category of “flawed democracies”, on the verge—if it sinks just a little lower—of crossing into the category of “hybrid regime”. This downgrading of Indonesia’s position follows similar drops for the country in other democracy indices like the Freedom in the World surveycompiled by Freedom House.

Indonesia’s trajectory is not bucking the global trend. Around the world, democracy is in retreat. Freedom House says democracy is facing “its most serious crisis in decades”, with 71 countries experiencing declines in political rights and civil liberties in 2017 and only 35 registering gains, making 2017 the twelfth year in a row showing global democratic recession.

Unlike during an earlier era of military coups, today the primary source of democratic backsliding is elected politicians. Leaders such as Russia’s Vladimir Putin, Turkey’s Recep Tayyip Erdogan and Hungary’s Viktor Orbán undermine the rule of law, manipulate institutions for their own political advantage, and restrict the space for democratic opposition. Elected despotism is, increasingly, the order of the day. Indeed, as I argue here, the primary threat to Indonesia’s democratic system today comes not from actors outside the arena of formal politics, like the military or Islamic extremists, but the politicians that Indonesians themselves have chosen.

Eroding democracy, in democracy’s name

Over recent years, successive central governments have introduced restrictions on democratic rights and freedoms in Indonesia. This process began during the second term of the Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono presidency, which began in 2009, but has accelerated significantly since the election of Jokowi in 2014.

The immediate backdrop to some of the most regressive moves has been the contest between Jokowi and his Islamist and other detractors, especially in the wake of the mobilisations against the Chinese Christian governor of Jakarta, Basuki Tjahaja Purnama (Ahok).

In July 2017, Jokowi issued a new regulation, subsequently approved by the national legislature, that granted the authorities sweeping powers to outlaw social organisations that they deemed a threat to the national ideology of Pancasila. The new law actually built on an earlier, somewhat less harmful version issued during the Yudhoyono presidency. The government quickly took advantage of the law to outlaw Hizbut Tahrir Indonesia, a large Islamist organisation that, while openly rejecting pluralism and democracy, has also pursued its goals non-violently.

At the same time, several critics of President Jokowi have been arrested on charges of makar, or rebellion (though it appears the authorities may not be proceeding with these cases). The government has coercively intervened in the internal affairs of Indonesia’s political parties so as to attain a majority in parliament. A prominent media mogul supportive of anti-Jokowi political causes was slapped with what appeared to many to be politically-motivated criminal investigations. Foreign NGOs and funding agencies face an increasingly restrictive operating climate.

Meanwhile, the military has been brought back into governance, at least at the lowest levels of the state, with the government reinstituting the Suharto-era of babinsa—junior officers assigned to villages—and promoting military involvement in non-security related functions as fertiliser distribution.

A related source of decline in the quality of Indonesia’s democracy, meanwhile, is intolerant attitudes toward religious and other social minorities, alongside narrowing public space for critical discussion of religious topics, and the growing ascendancy of religious conservatism in social and political life.

A few years ago, religious minorities such as Shia Muslims and members of the Ahmadiyah sect were the most frequent target of violent attack and restrictions; recently, the country has been gripped by an anti-LGBT panic. It is possible that Indonesia will soon criminalise homosexuality. At a time when many third-wave democracies, notably those in Latin America, are becoming more respectful of the rights of homosexuals and other sexual minorities, Indonesia is moving in the opposite direction.

While none of these government measures has in itself been a knockout blow against freedom of expression and association, taken together they constitute a significant erosion of democratic space. As the global democracy indices recognise, it already makes no sense to speak of Indonesia as being a full, or liberal, democracy. These developments point toward, at best, Indonesia’s becoming an increasingly illiberal democracy, where electoral contestation continues as a foundation of the polity, but coexists with significant restrictions on political and religious freedoms, and where the rights of at least some minority groups are not protected.

Defying the odds

But the picture is not unremittingly gloomy. Indonesia has a long way to go before it sinks to the level of Russia or even Turkey, and it is worth pausing to contextualise the recent trends in the context of the achievements of Indonesian democracy over the last 20 years.

Many of these gains remain firmly established. Democratic electoral competition has become an essential part of Indonesia’s political architecture. Apart from sporadic calls to do away with direct elections of regional heads (pilkada), no mainstream political force calls openly for electoral mechanisms to be replaced with a rival organising principle. Even when the authoritarian populist Prabowo Subianto ran for the presidency in 2014, he had to disguise his anti-democratic impulses with talk of returning to Indonesia’s original 1945 Constitution—i.e. the version of the constitution that the Suharto regime had relied upon, but which seems attractive to many Indonesians because it resonates with Indonesia’s nationalist history.

Public opinion surveys demonstrate continuing strong support both for democracy as an ideal, and for the democratic system actually practised in Indonesia. Moreover, Indonesia still has a relatively robust civil society and independent media, at least in the major cities. Political debate on most topics remains lively. For example, it is generally easy for critics of President Jokowi to express their views loudly and directly—not something that can be done in most of Indonesia’s ASEAN neighbours. Indeed, some of the recent attempts to curtail free speech has been prompted by concerns about the ease with which so-called “fake news”, conspiracy theories and wild rumours circulate through social media.

Moreover, it is worth emphasising that many of the very people who pose the greatest threat to Indonesian democracy—its elites—have in fact bought into the new system. Elites throughout the country have benefited from the new opportunities for social mobility and material accumulation they have been able to secure through elections and decentralisation.

A recent survey of members of provincial parliaments, conducted by Lembaga Survei Indonesia (LSI) in cooperation with the Australian National University, shows that while Indonesia’s regional political elites are certainly illiberal on many issues, they are strongly supportive of electoral democracy as a system of government. Indeed, on many questions their views are markedly moredemocratic than the general population.

For example, when asked to judge on a 10-point scale whether democracy was a suitable system of government for Indonesia, the average score provided by these parliamentarians was 8.14—not far from the maximum score of 10 for “absolutely suitable”, and a full point higher than the 7.14 given by respondents in LSI’s most recent general population survey in which the same question was asked. Likewise, these legislators were considerably less likely to support military rule or rule by a strong leader than were the population at large.

These responses are significant, because democracy is not simply a system favouring protection of civil liberties and ensuring accountability of officials to the public (areas where Indonesia has, to spin it positively, a mixed record). It is also a means of ensuring regular and open competition between rival political elites.

Viewed in this light—as a means of regulating elite circulation—Indonesian democracy looks more robust. Though elite buy-in does not preclude continuing erosion of civil liberties at the centre, or guarantee protection of unpopular minorities, it does pose a considerable obstacle to the return of a command-system of centralised authority such as that which ruled Indonesia under the New Order.

A consolidated low-quality democracy?

It is in no small part due to this elite support for the status quo—in part begrudging and contingent, but nevertheless real—that Indonesian democracy has proven resilient to potential spoilers. This resilience is in itself an important achievement: there is a body of scholarly literature that suggests that once a country has experienced democratic rule for a lengthy period—one scholar, Milan Svolik, puts the figure at 17–20 years—it is very unlikely to regress toward outright authoritarianism.

Moreover, Indonesia’s present backsliding—as with the wider global trend—can arguably be viewed in part as a retreat that comes after a democratic high water mark is reached. If the last century is any guide, democratic progress and regression come in worldwide waves: the third wave of democratisation which began in the 1970s was preceded by two earlier waves that came in the wake of World War I and World War II. In both periods, many of the newly democratic regimes that were established in the wake of the breakup of multinational and colonial empires did not last long. But in each case, these retreats were superseded by new waves of democratisation.

Obviously, we need to be cautious when thinking about future trends. We are in the midst of a new world-historic transition and we do not know whether we are merely at the start of the worldwide retreat of democracy, or already near the turning of the authoritarian tide.

Most worryingly, some of the ingredients giving rise to democratic weakening in the current period are new, and do not yet show signs of abating. Strikingly, for the first time in decades, there are signs of weakness in advanced democracies—both in terms of declining popular support for democracy as measured in some opinion polls, and in the election of would-be autocrats such as Donald Trump. Wealth inequality in many countries is reaching levels not seen since the dawn of the age of mass democracy a century ago, with the result that the growing political dominance of oligarchs—a major focus of academic analysis in Indonesia—is a worldwide trend. Meanwhile, new communication technologies of the internet and social media are opening up participation in political debate, but also driving a polarisation that undermines a shared public sphere and delegitimises opponents.

The forces conspiring to undermine democracy globally, the resulting unsupportive international climate for Indonesia’s democratic revival, plus the growing signs of democratic decline in the country itself, should make us cautious about celebrating the twentieth anniversary of reformasi with a tone of triumph.

Nevertheless, it is worth viewing contemporary predicaments from the perspective of those of us who watched Suharto resign 20 years ago. Back then, as we watched Suharto read out his speech, my friends and I mixed astonishment, excitement and relief with genuine anxiety about what was in store for Indonesia. Many expert commentators were very sceptical of the notion that Indonesia could become a successful democracy. Some urged caution, pointing to the acrimony that had dogged Indonesia’s earlier democratic experiment in the 1950s, and highlighting the under-development of civilian politics and the continuing influence of the armed forces.

Indonesian democracy exceeded most expectations back then. It might just do so again.

[newstfionline]

Sunday, July 25, 2021

Canada to relocate Afghans who assisted in war amid ‘rapidly deteriorating’ security situation (Washington Post) Canada announced plans Friday to resettle Afghans who aided the Canadian military and the country’s embassy and could face danger because of their work, as the U.S. military withdrawal from Afghanistan nears completion and the Taliban mounts offensives to regain territory. Canada’s “path to protection” will be open to Afghans with a “significant and enduring relationship” with the Canadian government, although officials did not elaborate on how that would be defined. Those eligible, they said, could include interpreters, locally engaged embassy staff members, as well as a host of other locals who assisted the war effort such as cooks, drivers, cleaners, security guards and their families. The announcement followed weeks of pressure on Ottawa from lawmakers and advocates to resettle Afghan interpreters and other locals. Some veterans said they were so frustrated by the lack of a government plan that they were using their own money to relocate former Afghan colleagues to safer parts of Afghanistan. The governments of other NATO allies who fought alongside U.S. forces have also faced calls to do more to aid Afghan interpreters or to expedite their resettlement. In Australia, a retired army general burned his service medals in protest of what he said was a lack of government action.

The days of vaccine lotteries are waning. Here come the mandates. (USA Today) Getting a COVID-19 vaccine in summer 2021 could have given you a shot at a million dollars. Soon, not getting one could cost you your job. Health officials and politicians have tried to stay positive in recent months as vaccination rates plummet, turning to ad campaigns touting giveaways and lottery drawings. And then the ultra-contagious delta variant arrived. Now health officials say the nation’s lagging vaccine rates are creating a spiraling public health crisis as the unvaccinated rapidly get sick and the protective power of vaccines is given a “stress test.” A growing chorus of voices say people who resist vaccinations should face pressure—and consequences. Some hospital administrators agree, and healthcare workers who refused to get vaccinated have been fired or quit in New Jersey and Texas. In New York City, public health workers who refuse to get vaccinated will face weekly COVID tests. “Getting the vaccine (should be) the easy choice,” Dr. Leana Wen, a proponent of vaccine mandates, told USA TODAY. “Opting out has to be the hard choice.” Wen, an emergency physician and public professor at George Washington University, is among experts who say vaccine requirements should be seen as akin to laws against drunk driving and other reckless behavior.

Covid Explodes in Cancun, Los Cabos as New Wave Hits Mexico (Bloomberg) A third coronavirus wave fueled by the highly contagious delta variant is battering two of Mexico’s most popular tourist destinations on opposite coasts, Los Cabos in the Pacific and Cancun on the Caribbean. In Cancun, cases have soared to a point where the Hard Rock hotel has set aside two floors for guests with symptoms. Some hotels say they offer discounts for those in quarantine until they’re no longer contagious. In Baja California Sur, where Los Cabos is located, authorities are again rushing to add beds to strained hospitals, which reached 75% capacity last week before improving to 62% on Thursday. Beaches in the town of La Paz were ordered closed, though local media show many ignoring the order. Since Mexico hasn’t limited who can fly during the pandemic, both domestic and international tourists have flocked to the resort areas. Like much of Latin America, Mexico has been slammed by Covid, among the worst hit in the world.

Venezuelans Enduring Day-Long Waits to Fill Gasoline Tanks (Bloomberg) Venezuela’s capital city is once again rationing gasoline after output at state-owned refineries slumped, forcing motorists to endure day-long queues to top off tanks. Shortages have returned to Caracas, prompting drivers to prowl the streets for open filling stations as lines stretch for blocks in some areas. Because of breakdowns at Petroleos de Venezuela SA fuel-making plants, gasoline output has crashed by more than 40% since the end of June, according to two sources with knowledge of the situation. Struggling with the impact of U.S. sanctions and scant foreign investment, PDVSA has been hit by failures at several of its largest plants. Just two of six refineries are currently operational, according to three people with direct knowledge who requested anonymity because they are not authorized to speak publicly about the situation.

Germany: Devastating floods raise fears for future (The Week) Entire towns in western Germany were devastated last week by “the flood of the century,” said Susanne Scholz at Express, and the whole country is in shock. The images on TV news looked like they were coming from a tropical monsoon zone, not our first-world nation. Never did we think we would see our own citizens “trapped in houses on the verge of collapse, in danger of being swept away by masses of water.” Days of torrential rain caused rivers to burst their banks in the states of Rhineland-Palatinate and North Rhine-Westphalia, and in neighboring Belgium and the Netherlands. While authorities say it’s too early to put a price tag on the damage, the images of submerged homes and electrical stations, obliterated bridges, and cars crumpled by fallen trees tell a tale of vast material loss. “The German language hardly knows any words for the devastation that has been wrought,” said Chancellor Angela Merkel. She praised the thousands of volunteers who came to bail water, load sandbags, and search for survivors.      “Disaster control clearly failed,” said Peter Tiede at Bild. State and local authorities responsible for evacuation warnings relied on smartphone apps that many Germans don’t have—and service was out anyway because the storms had downed the cell towers. Only old-fashioned sirens work in such emergencies, yet our few loudspeaker vans never left the depots. Public radio, meanwhile, “was playing pop music while hundreds of people were being washed away, houses collapsing, villages razed to the ground.” It’s simply inexcusable. “How bad will it get when such a flood hits a major city like Cologne or Hamburg instead of villages and small towns?”

To reach a peace deal, Taliban say Afghan president must go (AP) The Taliban say they don’t want to monopolize power, but they insist there won’t be peace in Afghanistan until there is a new negotiated government in Kabul and President Ashraf Ghani is removed. The Taliban have swiftly captured territory in recent weeks, seized strategic border crossings and are threatening a number of provincial capitals—advances that come as the last U.S. and NATO soldiers leave Afghanistan. Memories of the Taliban’s last time in power some 20 years ago, when they enforced a harsh brand of Islam that denied girls an education and barred women from work, have stoked fears of their return among many. Afghans who can afford it are applying by the thousands for visas to leave Afghanistan, fearing a violent descent into chaos. The U.S.-NATO withdrawal is more than 95% complete and due to be finished by Aug. 31.

Heavy rain in India triggers floods, landslides; at least 125 dead (Reuters) Rescue teams in India struggled through thick sludge and debris on Saturday to reach dozens of submerged homes as the death toll from landslides and accidents caused by torrential monsoon rain rose to 125. Maharashtra state is being hit by the heaviest rain in July in four decades, experts say. Downpours lasting several days have severely affected the lives of hundreds of thousands, while major rivers are in danger of bursting their banks. In Taliye, about 180 km (110 miles) southeast of the financial capital of Mumbai, the death toll rose to 42 with the recovery of four more bodies after landslides flattened most homes in the village, a senior Maharashtra government official said. Parts of India’s west coast have received up to 594 mm (23 inches) of rain, forcing authorities to move people out of vulnerable areas as they released water from dams about to overflow.

Vietnam locks down capital Hanoi for 15 days as cases rise (AP) Vietnam announced a 15-day lockdown in the capital Hanoi starting Saturday as a coronavirus surge spread from the southern Mekong Delta region. The lockdown order, issued late Friday night, bans the gathering of more than two people in public. Only government offices, hospitals and essential businesses are allowed to stay open. Earlier in the week, the city had suspended all outdoor activities and ordered non-essential businesses to close following an increase in cases.

Thousands protest lockdown in Sydney, several arrested (AP) Thousands of people took to the streets of Sydney and other Australian cities on Saturday to protest lockdown restrictions amid another surge in cases, and police made several arrests after crowds broke through barriers and threw plastic bottles and plants. There was a heavy police presence in Sydney, including mounted police and riot officers in response to what authorities said was unauthorized protest activity. Police confirmed a number of arrests had been made after objects were thrown at officers. Greater Sydney has been locked down for the past four weeks, with residents only able to leave home with a reasonable excuse. In Melbourne, thousands of protesters without masks turned out downtown chanting “freedom.” Some of them lit flares as they gathered outside Victoria state’s Parliament House. They held banners, including one that read: “This is not about a virus it’s about total government control of the people.”

Power outages cripple parts of the Middle East amid record heat waves and rising unrest (Washington Post) Record heat waves and crippling energy shortages across much of the Middle East are plunging homes and businesses from Lebanon to Iran into darkness and stirring unrest as poor families swelter while many of the rich stay cool with backup generators. Power outages have pushed hospitals to a crisis point. Family businesses are struggling to survive. In some cities, the streetlights barely work. Temperatures in several Middle Eastern countries this summer have topped 122 degrees Fahrenheit—50 degrees Celsius—including in Iran, which hit 123.8, and Iraq, which nearly matched last year’s record of 125.2. Decades of neglect and underinvestment have left power grids unable to cope. Drought has crippled hydroelectric generation. Economic crises roiling several countries mean governments are now even struggling to purchase the fuel needed to generate power.

Over 71% of Lebanon’s population risks losing access to safe water—UNICEF (Reuters) The United Nations warned on Friday that more than four million people in Lebanon, including one million refugees risked losing access to safe water as shortages of funding, fuel and supplies affect water pumping. “UNICEF estimates that most water pumping will gradually cease across the country in the next four to six weeks,” a statement by the U.N. body said. Lebanon is battling an economic meltdown that has propelled more than half of its population into poverty and seen its currency lose over 90% of its value in less than two years. The financial crisis has translated into severe shortages of basic goods such as fuel and medicine as dollars run dry. UNICEF said that should the public water supply system collapse, water costs could jump by 200% a month as water would be secured from private water suppliers.

[aptechvisaglobalimmigration]

The top destinations in Australia which would spark your eyes

Ever wondered what makes Australia so happening? Yes, Australia is a destination for adventure seekers who are always on the verge to try something new every day. The thrill that the country provides is outstanding and pulls towards is. That is why many people are searching reasons to move to Australia for a life filled with fun.

Australia permanent residence is the perfect gate pass to jump over the borders of Australia and roam the country until your legs become sore.

Many aspired immigrants are on a hunt for Australian pr visa because it eases the difficult process of Australian citizenship.

The easy free online assessment form available at our portal can assist you with the holistic process of Australia pr with the easy Australian pr points calculator.

Let’s come to the destinations present in Australia taking pride in attracting the visitors and tourists. Here we are listing top four destinations in Australia which are worth heading towards and make them a memory for life.

1.       Sydney Opera House

Crafted by the Danish Architect, Jorn Utzorn, the structure looks like a number of beautiful flower petals are emerging from the ground. The distant look of the Sydney Opera house captures the heart beat along with the eyes. The building shines in the UNESCO World Heritage site which makes it even more popular. Today the building is used as the site of performances. A visitor can dine here and take a tour of the theaters, studios, concert halls and exhibition rooms. The Opera house is a craft of creativity and is apt to spend a day out here with your companions.

2.       Great Barrier Reef Marine Park

This marvelous creation of nature can be seen from the outer space. It is approximately 2,300 km wide, and has successfully scooped out a place in the list of seven wonders in the natural world. The astounding creation shows the dexterity which is put by the nature. The reef has an array of the soft and hard corals in it and portrays 3,000 coral reefs and 600 continental islands. Go out and ravish these super pleasing reefs with your loved ones.

3.       Blue Mountains National Parks

Known for the blue haze that it reflects from the Eucalyptus trees, the mountains covers astonishing gorges, waterfalls, aboriginal rock painting, and lengthy hiking trails. The ‘three sisters’ sandstone rock formations are the most famous attraction of the National Park. One major highlight is the Katoomba Scenic Railway. Hiking, rock climbing, abseiling, mountain biking, and horseback riding are some of the activities and sports which can be enjoyed along with your companions in this park.

 4.       Bondi Beach

The Bondi beach on which there is a also an Australian series the ‘Bondi rescue’ has been filmed can sometime sweep the swimmers and floaters along with the elephantic swipes of water hence the name of the series. If your partner is willing to have a sea side walk with you holding hands in hands then this is the place to go. The beach is dangerous, particularly to its southern should not be taken for granted but it is definitely a tranquil place to spend a couple of hours out from your busy day schedule.

Australia is country with an endless list of adventures providing sites you would not forget ever once you witness.

If the above destinations have instigated the interest in you to get off your seat and start packing for Australia, then right now it is the time to take care of what it takes to go there. We can come to your rescue in this field. Aptechvisa is her and will always be there for you when it comes to the Australian immigrations. Try out our free online Australia pr points calculator to know the eligibilities and proceed further. We wish you goodluck with Australia dream!

[wazafam]

Netflix confirmed 27 movies are releasing in 2021, and here's every one of them. Hosted by three Red Notice stars - Ryan Reynolds, Gad Gadot, and Dwayne Johnson - Netflix's 2021 Film Preview video packs in a lot of information for curious streamers, which may feel both exciting and slightly overwhelming.

Netflix's preview video doesn't include all of their upcoming 2021 movies, but rather a select group of films across various genres - including their biggest releases. The sneak peek reveals that new movies will be released once per week throughout the year, which means that just over half are included in the clip. Several celebrities make brief appearances to hype up their upcoming projects, and Red Notice unsurprisingly receives the most attention during the the Netflix 2021 Film Preview.

Related: Every New Movie Releasing On Netflix In 2021

With the streaming wars being more intense than ever, Netflix wisely enlisted some big names for their 2021 Film Preview. But while the star power and assortment of clips are indeed impressive, there's little information provided about details that audiences may be curious about.

Directed by Mikael Håfström, Outside the Wire follows a drone pilot named Harp (Damson Idris; Snowfall) who works in a militarized zone for android officer Leo (Anthony Mackie; the MCU's Falcon). Together, they seek out a device that could end the world. Outside the Wire co-stars Pilou Asbæk (Game of Thrones) and Emily Beecham (Hail, Caesar!). Netflix's 2021 trailer features an aerial shot, along with Mackie's character doing a somersault and pointing his weapon. Outside the Wire released on January 15, 2021.

As the latest feature from acclaimed filmmaker Ramin Bahrani (Chop Shop), The White Tiger follows a poor man named Balram Halwai (Adarsh Gourav; Leila) who becomes a wealthy entrepreneur in India. The crime drama (release date TBA) co-stars Priyanka Chopra (Quantico) and Rajkummar Rao (Shahid), and is based on Aravind Adiga's eponymous 2008 novel. The Netflix trailer features a close-up of Gourav, along with Chopra and Rao's characters embracing. The White Tiger releases on January 22, 2021.

Starring John David Washington (Tenet) and Zendaya (Dune) as the respective title characters, Malcolm & Marie follows a couple who celebrate their impending professional success but then argue about their relationship. The black-and-white drama was written and directed by Sam Levinson, with the Netflix trailer featuring close-ups of the primary leads. Malcolm & Marie will release on February 5, 2021.

In the third and final To All the Boys movie, Lara Jean Covey (Lana Condor) finishes high school and imagines a possible life with Peter (Noah Centineo). Janel Parrish and Madeleine Arthur reprise their roles in the latest adaptation of Jenny Han's novel series. The first image in the Netflix teaser (above) shows Lara Jean with a content grin, while the second reveals that she's reacting to Peter - perhaps a "grand gesture" that's typical of rom-com films. To All The Boys: Always and Forever is scheduled to release on February 12.

Based on the eponymous 2009 book by author Amy Krouse Rosenthal and illustrator Tom Lichtenheld, Yes Day follows a couple who allows their children to set the family rules for 24 hours. In the Netflix teaser clip, Edgar Ramírez (Carlos) and Jennifer Garner (Alias) have fun with their children in Los Angeles. Yes Day co-stars Jenna Ortega (Iron Man 3) and Nat Faxon (The Way Way Back). Netflix will release Yes Day on March 21, 2021.

Directed by Zack Snyder, Army of the Dead centers on a group of mercenaries who attempt to pull a heist during a zombie outbreak in Las Vegas. The main cast includes Dave Bautista (the MCU's Drax), Ella Purnell (Sweetbitter), and Ana de la Reguera (Eastbound & Down). In the teaser, Netflix shows an aerial helicopter shot, an image of Bautista's character entering a room full of money, and visuals of the main characters engaging in battle. Army of the Dead will release in summer 2021.

Isla Fisher (Wedding Crashers) stars in an animated comedy about deadly Australian creatures who plan to escape from a zoo and relocate. The Netflix teaser includes a brief landscape shot and a character close-up (above). Back to the Outback co-stars Rachel House (Thor: Ragnorok) and Eric Bana (Star Trek).

In Bad Trip, Eric André (The Eric André Show) and Lil Rel Howery (Get Out) star as friends who travel cross-country to New York City. In the Netflix teaser, the main protagonists laugh together on the hood of a vehicle (above). Netflix hasn't announced a release date for Bad Trip.

Related: Best Netflix Original Horror Movies & TV Shows Of 2020

Set in 1980s New Jersey and directed by Andrew Dosunmu (Mother of George), Beauty follows the titular character (Gracie Marie Bradley; The Secret Lives of Cheerleaders) who is on the verge of becoming a musical sensation. Written by Lena Waithe (Ready Player One), Beauty includes supporting performances from Giancarlo Esposito (Breaking Bad) and Sharon Stone (Casino). The preview clip includes a stylized character close-up (above), along with a complementary second shot of the two characters from a different angle. Beauty doesn't yet have an official release date.

Bruised takes place in the world of mixed martial arts and marks the directorial debut of Halle Berry (Monster's Ball), who stars as a disgraced fighter named Jackie Justice. The Netflix preview shows Jackie walking through an arena, presumably before a big match, and the second visual shows her being hit by real-life UFC star Valentina Shevchenko. Bruised doesn't have an official release date yet.

Written and directed by Adam McKay (The Big Short), Don't Look Up stars Leonardo DiCaprio (The Revenant) and Jennifer Lawrence (The Hunger Games) as astronauts who try to convince the public that a meteorite will soon destroy the Earth. The Netflix comedy features a star-studded supporting cast, including Timothée Chalamet (Dune), Chris Evans (the MCU's Captain America), Cate Blanchett (The Lord of the Rings), Meryl Streep (The Devil Wears Prada), and Jonah Hill (The Wolf of Wall Street). The Netflix trailer includes six shots of DiCaprio and Lawrence preparing to depart from an airplane, with both characters appearing visibly nervous. Don't Look Up doesn't have an official release date.

A Brazilian film, Double Dad stars Maisa Silva (Carrossel) as an 18-year-old girl who flees from her hippie commune. The family comedy was directed by Cris D'Amato, who is best known for helming S.O.S.: Women to the Sea and S.O.S.: Women to the Sea 2. In the Netflix clip, Silva's character rides her bike and then smiles in a close-up visual (above). Double Dad is "Coming Soon."

Based on George Saunders' eponymous short story, Escape from Spiderhead follows convicts who participate in a drug experiment program to shorten their sentences. Chris Hemsworth (the MCU's Thor), Miles Teller (Whiplash), and Jurnee Smollett (Lovecraft Country) star as the primary leads, and the film was directed by Joseph Kosinski (Oblivion, Top Gun: Maverick). The Netflix preview shows Hemsworth transporting Teller's character to an unknown destination. Escape from Spiderhead doesn't have an official release date.

Fear Street marks the first film of a trilogy based on R.L. Stine's eponymous book series. Set in 1994, the horror movie follows various teenagers in Shadyside, Ohio who believe that their bizarre experiences are intertwined, with Gillian Jacobs (Community) headlining the main cast. The Fear Street teaser includes a close-up of a scared female character, which is followed by a close-up of a masked character (above). A release date hasn't been announced.

Directed by Cedric Nicolas-Troyan (The Huntsman: Winter's War), Kate follows a woman who gets poisoned and subsequently targets her enemies over the course of 24 hours. Meanwhile, she forms a bond with the daughter of a past victim. Kate stars Mary Elizabeth Winstead (Birds of Prey), Michiel Huisman (Game of Thrones), and Woody Harrelson (True Detective). The teaser images shows close-ups of Harrelson (above) and Winstead, along with an overhead street shot. Kate will release sometime in 2021.

Related: Every Upcoming Sci-Fi Movie In 2021

Set in Harlem, Monster follows a 17-year-old named Steve Harmon (Kelvin Harrison, Jr.; Luce) who gets charged with murder. The character study co-stars Jennifer Hudson (Dreamgirls), who appears with Harrison Jr. in the Netflix teaser. A premiere date hasn't been announced.

Directed by Amy Poehler (Parks and Recreation), Moxie follows 16-year-old Vivian (Hadley Robinson), who publishes an underground zine called Moxie to expose the questionable behavior of classmates. The protagonist then inadvertently creates a revolution, which was partially inspired by her mother, who is portrayed by Poehler (above in a close-up from the teaser). Moxie co-stars Josephine Langford (After) and will release on March 3. The teaser clip also includes a wide shot of teenagers leaving a building.

In Night Teeth, a chauffeur picks up two mysterious women in Los Angeles and becomes immersed in a dangerous underworld. The Adam Randall thriller stars Alexander Ludwig (Vikings) and Sydney Sweeney (Euphoria), along with Lucy Fry (Bright) and Debby Ryan (Insatiable) - both of whom appear in the above trailer visual. Night Teeth will release sometime in 2021.

Directed by the French filmmaker Alexandre Aja (High Tension), O2 stars Mélanie Laurent (Inglourious Basterds) as a woman who wakes up in a cryogenic chamber with no memories. The thriller co-stars Mathieu Amalric (Quantum of Solace), and was written by Christie LeBlanc. Netflix's teaser includes a visual of Laurent's character who seems to be just waking up. O2 doesn't have a release date yet.

In Red Notice, Dwayne Johnson (Jumanji) stars as an Interpol agent who tracks an art thief. Written and directed by Rawson Marshall Thurber (Skyscraper), the Netflix blockbuster co-stars Ryan Reynolds (Deadpool) and Gal Gadot (Wonder Woman). Netflix's 2021 movie teaser includes various close-ups of Johnson, and shows Reynolds walking through a private plane. Gadot also displays her combat skills, and there's a comedic moment between the two male leads during a fight sequence. A final explosion visual teases the scope of production. Netflix hasn't announced a premiere date for Red Notice.

Sweet Girl stars Jason Momoa (Aquaman) as a man who seeks vengeance for the murder of his wife and attempts to protect his daughter, portrayed by Isabela Merced (Sicario: Day of the Soldado). The Netflix action film marks the feature directorial debut of Brian Andrew Mendoza, who previously produced the Momoa films Road to Paloma, Frontier, and Maven. The teaser clips show Momoa's character frantically running and later battling with someone. Also, Merced's character appears with a bruised eye (above). A release date hasn't been announced for Sweet Girl.

The Harder They Fall follows a man who seeks justice for the murder of his parents. Directed and co-written by Jeymes Samuel (They Die by Dawn), the Netflix western stars Idris Elba (Luther), Regina King (Watchmen), Zazie Beetz (Deadpool 2), LaKeith Stanfield (Sorry to Bother You), and Jonathan Majors (Lovecraft Country). In the first shot, King, Elba and Stanfield seem ready for a street confrontation, while the second shot shows an intimate chat between King and Majors. In the third and final shot (above), Majors and Beetz fire at unknown enemies. A premiere date hasn't been set for The Harder They Fall.

Related: The Best TV Shows Of 2020

In The Kissing Booth 3, Elle (Joey King; The Act) begins a new journey in college and must deal with the consequences of leaving someone behind. Vince Marcello directs the third franchise installment, which co-stars Joel Courtney as Lee Flynn and Taylor Zakhar Perez as Marco Peña. In the Netflix teaser, a wide coastline shot teases the "journey" premise, and the second clip show Elle embracing her long-time pal Lee. In the third and final clip (above), Elle and Noah Flynn (Jacob Elordi; Euphoria) have some fun in the sun, with Chloe Winthrop (Maisie Richardson-Sellers) right behind them. Netflix hasn't set an official premiere date for The Kissing Booth 3.

The Last Mercenary stars iconic action star Jean-Claude Van Damme (Bloodsport) as a former secret service agent whose estranged son is falsely accused of drug trafficking by the French government. Directed by David Charhon, the Netflix film co-stars Eric Judor (Platane) and Miou-Miou (The Science of Sleep). The Last Mercenary teaser shows a stretched-out character (above), and also someone being smashed into a mirror. Netflix hasn't announced a release date yet.

Based on A.J. Finn's 2018 novel, The Woman in the Window stars Amy Adams (Arrival) as an agoraphobic character who spies on her neighbors in New York City. The Netflix thriller was directed by Joe Wright (Darkest Hour), and co-stars the aforementioned Anthony Mackie, Gary Oldman (Darkest Hour), Julianne Moore (Magnolia), Bryan Tyree Henry (Atlanta), and Fred Hechinger (News of the World). In the Netflix teaser, three consecutive shots show Amy witnessing some type of crime, and then taking a picture. The Woman In The Window doesn't yet have an official release date.

Related: Why Hillbilly Elegy's Reviews Are So Brutal

Starring Melissa McCarthy (Bridesmaids) and Octavia Spencer (Hidden Figures), Thunder Force follows two childhood best friends who gain superhero powers and protect their city. The Netflix comedy film was written and directed by McCarthy's husband and long-time collaborator, Ben Falcone. In the teaser clip, the main characters Lydia (McCarthy) and Emily (Spencer) share a knowing grin, and the second shot shows the former displaying her strength by throwing a vehicle, which is followed by the focal duo reacting to the moment. Thunder Force is "Coming Soon," per Netflix.

Directed by Hamilton creator Lin-Manuel Miranda, Tick, Tick... Boom! takes place in 1990 and follows an aspiring theater composer named Jon (Andrew Garfield; The Amazing Spider-Man) who seeks his big break. Tick, Tick... Boom! is based on Jonathan Larson's musical, and features supporting performances from Vanessa Hudgens (High School Musical), Bradley Whitford (Get Out), and Alexandra Shipp (X-Men). In the teaser, a wide shot shows Jon at a piano in an empty building, while the second features a close-up of Garfield's character trying to avoid a library crowd. Tick, Tick... Boom! doesn't have an official premiere date.

Next: Every New Show Releasing On Netflix In 2021

All 27 2021 Netflix Movies Explained | Screen Rant from https://ift.tt/3oIedBU

[gokul2181]

RCB vs KXIP Live Score: Royal Challengers Bangalore post 171/6 against Kings XI Punjab | Cricket News

New Post has been published on https://jordarnews.in/rcb-vs-kxip-live-score-royal-challengers-bangalore-post-171-6-against-kings-xi-punjab-cricket-news/

RCB vs KXIP Live Score: Royal Challengers Bangalore post 171/6 against Kings XI Punjab | Cricket News

LIVE BLOG | LIVE SCORECARD (TARGET FOR KXIP: 172) Morris starts his second over. End of OVER 2: 4 runs off Saini’s over. KXIP 5/0, need 167 runs to win. OVERS 1.2: FOUR! Down the leg from Saini. Rahul uses the pace and guides the ball towards fine leg for a boundary. Navdeep Saini comes into the attack End of OVER 1: Brilliant start for Morris. Just 1 run off his over. KXIP 1/0 Gayle is sitting with his pads on. He will come at No. 3 KL Rahul and Mayank Agarwal are in the middle. Chris Morris will open the attack for RCB. Here we go!!! Welcome back! KXIP need 172 to win. Royal Challengers Bangalore post 171/6 against Kings XI Punjab OVERS 20: SIX! What a way to end the over. Morris goes for another one and this time over deep square leg. Three sixes and one four by Morris in Shami’s over. 24 runs off Shami’s over. OVERS 19.5: SIX! Morris picks the length and dispatches the ball over long off. OVERS 19.3: SIX! Wow! What a shot from Udana. Bouncer from Shami. Udana pulls this with sheer power over deep mid wicket fence. OVERS 19.1: FOUR! Morris plays this brilliantly towards fine leg. Shami to bowl the last over. End of OVER 19: 10 runs off Jordan’s over. RCB 147/6 OVERS 18.4: SIX! Morris stays back and slaps the ball over point for a six. Much-needed runs for RCB at this moment. RCB 146/6 Jordan starts his third over. End of OVER 18: 4 runs and 2 big wickets off Shami’s over. RCB 137/6 OVERS 17.5: WICKET! What an over from Shami. ABD and now Kohli. Wow. Shami exults in celebration. Short from Shami. Kohli tries to pull but the ball kisses his gloves and goes high. KL runs, dives and takes a brilliant catch. Shami has a big smile on his face. “SHAMI WILL REMEBER THIS OVER FOREVER” – SUNIL GAVASKAR from the commentary box . RCB 136/6 Chris Morris comes to the crease OVERS 17.3: WICKET! Shami gets the big fish. AB de Villiers departs for 2. Big wicket for KXIP. ABD tries to go over mid off but fails to connect. Deepak Hooda takes an easy catch. RCB 135/5 Mohammed Shami starts his third over. End of OVER 17: 6 runs off Ashwin’s over. That’s the end of his quota of four overs as well. 4-0-23-2 Murugan Ashwin starts his fourth and final over. ABD and Virat are in the middle. Are you ready for fireworks? AB de Villiers comes to the crease. OVERS 16: WICKET! Chris Jordan gets his man. Dube has been trying to go over the top in the over but failed. Jordan finally got rid of him for 23. First wicket for Jordan in IPL 2020. Dube tries to go over the top, gets a top edge and KL Rahul runs and takes a well-judged catch. RCB 127/4 Jordan starts his second over. End of OVER 15: Expensive over by Bishnoi. The youngster concedes 19 runs in his over. RCB 122/3 OVERS 14.2: SIX! Another one from Dube. He is on fire. Kohli loves it. Dube goes over deep mid wicket this time. RCB 118/3 OVERS 14.1: SIX! That’s out of the sight. Dube picks the length and dispatches the ball over long on region. Powerful shot from Dube. It’s a 91m long. Bishnoi starts his third over. End of OVER 14: Another brilliant over for KXIP. Punjab bowlers are keeping RCB batsmen in check. 6 runs off Jordan’s over. RCB 103/3 Chris Jordan comes into the attack End of OVER 13: What an over from the young Bishnoi. The spinner concedes just 3 runs. RCB 97/3 Bishnoi starts his second over. End of OVER 12: Maxwell completes his quota of four overs. 4-0-28-0 Shivam Dube comes to the crease OVERS 10.3: WICKET! Another googly and another wicket for Ashwin. Washington Sundar tries to go over the top but gets a top edge. Chris Jordon takes a well-judged catch. Second wicket for Ashwin. RCB 88/3 Murugan Ashwin starts his third over. 10 overs gone! 8 runs off Maxwell’s over. RCB 83/2 OVERS 9.3: FOUR! Down the leg from Maxwell. Washington plays a wonderful sweep shot for a boundary. Maxwell starts his third over. End of OVER 9: Another good over for KXIP. 6 runs off Ashwin’s over. RCB 75/2 Wickets taken in Powerplay for KXIP in IPL 2020: First four matches: 9 wickets Last four matches: 3 wickets Ashwin starts his second over. End of OVER 8: Just 6 runs off Maxwell’s over. RCB 69/2 Maxwell starts his second over. End of OVER 7: 6 runs off Ashwin’s over. RCB 63/2 OVERS 6.3: BOWLED! Ashwin castles Finch for 20. What a delivery from the spinner. Finch is absolutely foxed. RCB 63/2 Murugan Ashwin comes into the attack End of OVER 6: 8 runs off Bishnoi’s over. RCB 57/1 OVERS 5.4: FOUR! Kohli sends Bishnoi towards backward square leg for a boundary. RCB 55/1 Ravi Bishnoi comes into the attack End of OVER 5: 11 runs off Arshdeep’s over. RCB 49/1 OVERS 4.5: FOUR! Kohli hits Arshdeep for back-to-back boundaries. Elegant shots from the RCB skipper. OVERS 4.1: WICKET! Arshdeep strikes, removes dangerous Devdutt Padikkal for 18 runs. Good length from Arshdeep. Padikkal brings his front foot forward and tries to punch but fails to judge the delivery. Pooran takes an easy catch at short cover. Arshdeep starts his second over. End of OVER 4: 11 runs off Shami’s over. RCB 38/1 OVERS 3.5: SIX! Padikkal and his bottom-hand shot. Brilliant one from him. He dispatches the ball over deep square leg region. Shami starts his second over. End of OVER 3: 9 runs off Arshdeep’s over. RCB 27/0 OVERS 2.5: FOUR! Padikkal uses the pace and flicks the ball towards fine leg for a boundary. OVERS 2.1: Arshdeep to Finch. The Australian gets an outside edge. The ‘Universe Boss’ Gayle dives to his right and stops the ball. Bowling change for KXIP. Arshdeep Singh comes into the attack. End of OVER 2: RCB 18/0 OVERS 1.5: FOUR! Finch comes a bit forward and lofts the ball over Shami’s head for a boundary. Magnificent timing from him. OVERS 1.2: Shami to Finch. FOUR. BYES. Runs are coming for RCB. Mohammed Shami comes into the attack End of OVER 1: 8 runs off Finch’s over. RCB 8/0 OVER 0.6: SIX! What a shot from Finch. Brilliant slog sweep from Finch towards behind square. Glenn Maxwell will open the attack for KXIP. Here we go!!! Devdutt Padikkal and Aaron Finch are at the crease. PLAYING XIs: Royal Challengers Bangalore: Devdutt Padikkal, Aaron Finch, Virat Kohli (captain), AB de Villiers (wk), Washington Sundar, Shivam Dube, Chris Morris, Isuru Udana, Navdeep Saini, Mohammed Siraj, Yuzvendra Chahal Kings XI Punjab: Chris Gayle, KL Rahul (wk/captain), Mayank Agarwal, Nicholas Pooran, Glenn Maxwell, Deepak Hooda, Chris Jordan, Murugan Ashwin, Mohammed Shami, Ravi Bishnoi, Arshdeep Singh

A look at the Playing XI for #RCBvKXIP.The Universe Boss is back in the #KXIP XI. #Dream11IPL https://t.co/oekh2dX3T3

— IndianPremierLeague (@IPL) 1602769361000

CAPTAINS’ TAKE: Virat Kohli (RCB): We’ll bat first. It looks like a dry surface and got considerably slower the last night. We saw in the second innings there was no dew and it was gripping. RCB means a lot, not many understand that emotion. 200 games for them is unbelievable, I wouldn’t have believed it in 2008. It is an honour, they’ve kept me and I have stayed on. When the team wins you look good as a captain. There have been many individuals who have put their hands up even after two losses. It’s only halfway and we have to keep it up. The most important thing is to focus on your own skillset. Even in the biggest ground in the world people score 220. There is no given in cricket and we just want to carry on. We are unchanged. KL Rahul (KXIP): We were looking to bat first as well. Just looking to get a couple of wickets and put pressure on them. We all feel we deserve more than two points. We have played good cricket and have lost a couple of close games. We have come here looking to win this game and be the best team we can. Everybody knows that all games are must wins for us from hereon. It’s not a bad place to be in, we need to bring our A game and do our best. Three changes: Mandeep, Prabsimran and Mujeeb miss out. Gayle, Hooda and Ashwin come in. We’ll see the batting order after how the first innings goes. Chris coming in gives us a lot of energy. BREAKING: CHRIS GAYLE IS BACK FOR KXIP. This will be Gayle’s first match of IPL 2020. TOSS: Royal Challengers Bangalore captain Virat Kohli wins toss, opts to bat against Kings XI Punjab. It’s TOSS time, folks. Virat on the verge of adding another feather to his hat

On the ground or in the air,There’s not a ball Captain Kohli will spare. 😎@imVkohli#PlayBold #IPL2020… https://t.co/ljWWMcD9bF

— Royal Challengers Bangalore (@RCBTweets) 1602763208000

The BOSS is back!

Cars driving past Sharjah, beware 🚗 ⚠️The BOSS is 🔙 😍#SaddaPunjab #IPL2020 #KXIP #RCBvKXIP @henrygayle https://t.co/qS3LRLw46f

— Kings XI Punjab (@lionsdenkxip) 1602754200000

HEAD TO HEAD:

Hello and welcome to Match 31 of #Dream11IPL where #RCB will take on #KXIP.Who are you rooting for?#RCBvKXIP https://t.co/4NuLop5AJk

— IndianPremierLeague (@IPL) 1602764625000

Hello and welcome to the Live coverage of match 31 of the IPL 2020 between Royal Challengers Bangalore and Kings XI Punjab.

Source link

[overwatch-imagines-hub]

Fictober - Black/Orange (Demon!Junkrat)

I have a huge appreciation for anyone who writes/draws Junkrat because the more I try to do it, the harder I realize it is. I don’t know why but the trash boy is apparently my bane and this fic was a fuckin’ challenge. I also did very little with the prompt itself but I tried my goddamned best. Sorry if this fic is the worst of them. It also ended up being a lot longer than the rest of them.

Day 15 coming out a few days late but it’s fine because at least I got it done and that’s the real goal here. <D

~~~

“You don’t strike me as a professional criminal.”

You stood in a carefully placed stance, ready to bash a head in and run out of there if necessary, with your arms over your chest and a questioning scowl directed at the extremely tall and dirty man standing before you.

“That’s what makes me good at it,” your temporary partner in crime, Junkrat, replied. He stared down at you with a grin of sharp teeth that looked like they originally belonged to a shark. His eyes were the color of fire--close to the color of the ends of his hair, which seemed to be stuck in a state of constantly burning but never spreading--and they twinkled with a  dark light that could only be described as crazy.

Professional criminal was definitely not the phrase that came to mind when you got your first look at the guy and certainly not the word professional in any sense. Your first thought was an escaped psych ward patient. You second was dangerous and the word “run” echoed in the back of your mind as you continued to stand before him. You didn’t run, though, because for every ounce of crazy Junkrat seemed, three ounces of intriguing trumped it. Dangerous? Absolutely. But he seemed like the character that didn’t care if an enemy ran away and only really killed as an afterthought.

You were brought out of your thoughts when Junkrat’s grin widened again, which was already near past impossibly wide; he had been analyzing you as well and he had seen the reluctant realization blossom across your face. He knew that there was a lot more to him than what meets the eye. Now so did you.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked, voice low and Australian accent thick. He held out a gloved hand equally coated in soot and dirt.

You were a criminal yourself, though you didn’t quite consider yourself a professional. At first it started out as a way of survival; you had been on your own in a wasteland for a while and needed some way to stay alive. Over the years, however, it escalated into an interest and a fun activity for you, so while you were now living well, you couldn’t but cause a little chaos now and again. You tended to make deals and collaborations with other criminals and run off with both of your winnings before they could even notice; you had a feeling that wouldn’t be the case this time.

You eyed Junkrat’s outstretched hand for a moment before meeting his gaze again; you weren’t about to let this knucklehead outdo you. Without blinking, you took his hand in a firm handshake, both of you squeezing a little harder than necessary to make a point. “Deal. Now let’s break into Junkertown.”

“We’re trying to make an entrance,” you grumbled as you watched Ratman continue to load on an excessive amount of explosives, “Not blow up the entire town.”

“Speak for yaself,” Junkrat replied with a casual shrug. He finished up rigging his loads upon loads of demolition toys around one of the many blocked off entrances of Junkertown’s underground sewer system, then stepped back to admire his handiwork. His eyes and teeth glimmered in the low light of flashlights and flashing bomb lights and you couldn’t help but think that those traits made him look so much less human.

“Ready to do this?” he questioned. He looked towards you and his expression turned to one of what seemed to be pouting when he saw the unimpressed look plastered on your own. “What?”

You just shook your head in defeat and gestured towards the mess of explosives. “Go at it. If we die it’s your fault.”

“Ya won’t die,” he grumbled, grabbing the control. He had been expecting for some sort of reaction from you, apparently, but you were just tired of this nutball of a man stepping on your toes.

Dying sounds like the best option right now, honestly, you thought with your recurring scowl passing over your face again. You thought about mentioning it allowed but you didn’t really want to take the chance of hitting a pleasant chord with Junkrat about the thought of getting rid of you; instead you inquired, “But you will?”

Junkrat replied simply, “Can’t. We need t’ move back.”

“Crazy,” you mumbled as you turned around and marched back down the dried up sewer. You heard awkward steps behind you as Junkrat followed, then a hand on your shoulder to stop you at a decent distance.

“Good here,” the dirty man stated.

You turned around and stood beside him, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulder; his hand still rested on your own shoulder, giving you an uneasy feeling.

“Just to be clear,” you said, “this side is steady.” When you got a nod, you continued, “And what’s on the other is a network all under the town. It’s a go in, get what you can, get back out mission. No fucking around and making a show of yourself; that’ll only end badly for both of us. The Queen’ll hang our asses.”

Although, if he was distracted, you might be able to loot his loot and run off scot free while Junkers took care of him for you.

Junkrat gave you an irritated look but nodded anyway; he knew you were right.

“Can ah do it now or do ya have more of a lecture left?”

“Fire at will,” you replied. You shrugged nonchalantly and became vaguely aware that Junkrat was still holding onto to you.

Junkrat grinned at your okay and fiddled with his control. A soft click sounded and seconds later the ring of bombs around the blocked way exploded into a burst of orange and black.

Shrapnel skidded back towards your feet your feet but the two of you were far enough back to experience the pretty sight without getting harmed.

When the dust cleared and the fire died down, the blocked wall was in pieces. Behind it was another fortification, solid as if twenty plus bombs hadn’t just gone off right next to it. The only obvious damage made to it was a layer of black soot over it, shrapnel and small fires decorating the ground in front of it.

“Are you kidding me?” you whined.

The sound of rock splitting caught your attention; cracks were fissuring across the unused sewer’s ceiling, causing large pieces of cement and rock to dislodge. The side of the sewer that you were on was beginning to collapse.

“Are you kidding me?” You looked at Junkrat accusingly. “You said it was sound!”

“I also thought that this plan would work.” Junkrat pouted. His skin had flushed a bright red, making you worried that you would have to drag his ass out of there if he fainted.

A chunk of the ceiling fell from above and you yanked out of Junkrat’s grip to avoid getting terminal head trauma. More sections began to rip away from the sewer’s foundation and follow it, and the knucklehead hadn't even moved an inch.

“So are you going to join me as I leave or stand there and go down with the sewer?” You considered waiting for him until jagged shrapnel the size of your fist knocked you in the shoulder and made you stumble back. You hissed in pain and held your injured arm where cloth was now torn and blood started to swell, then said fuck all and stumbled your way to the exit.

You kept your eyes forward even as you heard Junkrat let out a whining grunt and follow after you. You avoided the falling rubble to the best of your ability but you somehow managed to get a partial dead leg and a hard bump on the head, resulting in you leaning against the wall and limping along to the ladder entrance; it was going to be a bitch to climb once you got to it.

At this point, the underground system was completely falling apart in your wake. It was loud and that plus your throbbing skull made it very difficult to keep track of the man you assumed was still trotting along behind you. By the time you reached the ladder, most of your weight was slumped against the wall and your eyesight was a little blurry.

“Time to shoot through, mate.” His voice was scratchier now but it was still Junkrat. “We’re not done yet.”

You glanced down as you felt yourself being lifted towards the first step of the ladder and you caught a glimpse of large hands deep red in color, fingers tipped with ragged black claws, curled around your sides. If you weren’t on the verge of passing out, you would have screamed. Instead, however, you just quietly muttered “what the fuck” before forcing yourself to grab the ladder and start climbing. When you reached the surface, a more or less dusty wasteland just outside of Junkertown, you briefly noticed the caved in land where the tunnel had been before you flopped back on the ground and settled for staring at the sky.

“I have a feeling that the world spinning is not a thing that should be happening,” you mumbled. You squeezed your eyes shut briefly, then opened them to the same spinning setting. You sighed in defeat and laid there, vaguely aware of your terrible partner in crime crawling out of the ground behind you.

Before your consciousness faded completely, you got a glimpse of the man as he peered over you to see if you were awake. His skin now matched the color of the hands that had helped you up the ladder, deep red under dust and grime. His eyes were solid, lacking pupil or sclera, and looked like liquid fire. The ends of his hair simmered and parted on either side of his head where black horns sprouted from his forehead.

“Am I hallucinating or did I actually die back there?” you questioned, slurring your words together as you slowly blacked out. “Did I go to hell? I’m probably in hell.”

Then you were out.

You woke up with a killer headache and a stiff back. When you opened your eyes, it was dark out and for the few moments they were open before a wave of nausea hit, you noticed that you were no longer in the middle of a desert; instead you had a roof over your head, which looked kinda dirty and had a creaky ceiling fan moving sluggishly in circles.

Then you rolled onto your side and dry heaved for the next three minutes.

“Hell looks like a seedy fucking hotel,” you groaned, flopping back onto the rock solid couch you’d apparently been lounging on. At least the dry heaving seemed to clear your head enough to take a good look around.

The room you were in was in fact that of a seedy hotel. It was kind of dirty and mostly barren, with the couch you laid on pressed into a corner next to a broken TV whose screen wasn’t visible from the couch whatsoever. On the opposite wall was a decently sized bed, which look unfortunately as dirty as the rest of the room, with a sink nearby and a door that you assumed led to the bathroom; directly across from that door was another, probably leading out into the rest of the hotel. On the bed lounged a bright red figure who wore know shirt and whose eyes glowed brightly in the dimness. Junkrat’s arrow-shaped tail flicked as he watched you.

“Morning sunshine,” you said with a weak grin, forcing yourself to sit up part of the way and lean on an elbow.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into? Had you accidentally made a deal with the devil? If so, why did he save you?

“It nighttime,” Junkrat replied, pulling you from your thoughts. He shifted on the bed, causing it to creak, and sit up. He moved much smoother than he had back at the sewer.

Probably because he’s no longer hiding behind a human skin, you thought. You watched him carefully, waiting for some sort of predatory movements or seductive speech, as you assumed was common with demons, but nothing came.

Instead the demon man slipped off the bed and reached under it. He pulled a medium sized burlap sack from under it and made his over to you. When he was close enough, he perched himself on the far arm of the couch and dropped the sack next to your feet.

He seemed sad.

“What’s this for?” You asked, nudging the bag with a toe. Whatever was in it felt hard and heavy, and you had a guess it was filled with stolen items. You were too weak to check it yourself though.

“Ya held up the deal,” Junkrat muttered as he nudged the sack closer to you. “Well, tried t’.”

You couldn’t help yourself. “That’s it? Isn’t it the other way around? You hold up the bargain, then you take my soul or some shit?” You took your chance reaching for the bag, immediately falling back against the couch after catching it in your fingers; you felt like a truck had decided to drive over your face.

The demon snorted and leaned back against the wall. He looked at you in a way that made you guess he wished he’d thought of that when the deal was originally struck. “Wasn’t that kind o’ deal. Yer takin’ th’ whole demon thing a little too well, ya think?”

“My head is throbbing and I feel like I slept on a bed of nails. I don’t really have the strength or ability to freak out about this level of bullshit right now. So you’re just paying me then? We didn’t even get into Junkertown or loot shit. Where are we, by the way?”

“Motel, ways away,” Junkrat explained shortly. “And yeh, I’m just payin’ ya. Did yer part; just happened to be unsuccessful. When ye feel solid, feel free to get lost.”

You observed the demon in silence for a while. He seemed subdued, as if he had failed a greatly important personal mission, and hadn’t looked at you since he moved to sit nearby. He took on the look of a disappointed child, in a way.

You were positive that you were going to regret this later.

“We should try again.”

Junkrat’s eyes flickered as he looked at, eyebrows arched. “What?”

“We should try again,” you repeated. “We didn’t make it through, so the mission’s not over. I don’t like getting paid for something I didn’t do.”

“You’re serious.”

“Sure,” you said, “I just need to get steady on my feet again and then we can come up with a better plan. I have more tricks than just explosives, my man.”

He looked at you incredulously. “Must’ve hit yer head real hard in the sewer.”

“The first thing I did when I woke up was dry heave,” you stated, “I definitely did.” You forced away another round of nausea as you sat up and held out a hand to him. Trying to flash something of a charming grin, you said, “Deal?”

Junkrat glanced from you to your hand and back, as if he couldn’t believe what you were doing. Then, after a few moments of pondering, he took your chilly hand in his unusually warm one and shook it, a grin beginning to blossom on his face. “Deal.”

[pyro-technically]

The legend of Captain Purkiss part 1

Before I start this LONG story, keep in mind that this is just something I've imagined about for a while now. Also, I think @space-australians and @space-australia-stories would possibly like this. NOW LET'S GET TO IT.

She was a force to be reckoned with, her fame and presence was known across the intergalactic space net. The entire space continuum knew what she was capable of and they feared or admired her. She had a swagger that showed her knowledge and power, it was as if her 5 foot frame were 2 feet taller and a bit scarier. Built lean and ready to kill, she led the entire intergalactic fleet with her crew which also were the best of the best. From a young age of 7, she was taken from Earth and raised in the main vessel as well as trained by Adtor'iik whom of which was considered the greatest of them all with little ol' Erin Purkiss coming as a close second. She spoke 13 languages as well as two languages for the deaf and hard of hearing. It was no wonder she was considered an impossible story.

"...and as tale tells, she fought a great battle with only the skin of her teeth and her own body standing beneath her, taking down the Myrrhj empire single handedly before disappearing without a single trace." The blind story teller came to a close as 30 adamant ears listened closely to the precariously told story. Erin Purkiss must have been a myth the humans started, either that or someone wrote a fake epic about this damned godly being. Mi'jal ran to the other side of the archive and asked for any books on "Erin Purkiss". As a jelly finger pointed to a dusty bookshelf a little high up. He excitedly climbed the steps on the wooden ladder as the floor trailed away beneath his 10 appendages. He searched through the books until he hit the jack pot.

"The tales and history of Captain Purkiss and the Armandii fleet." Sliding down the ladder, he landed with a soft thud against the white marbled floor. He ran home with his bag full of books on the "fools tale" as some called it. His semi-transparent limbs carried him home as he held what he knew was an epic, a tribute to the galactic fleet that always ensured the protection of the galaxy and that they kept their promise of loyalty and obedience to royalty. He quivered at the thought of being up there one day, commanding an entire fleet with everyone willing to back him up, but for now he has to deal with being shoved in lockers and toilets.

When he got home, he bolted up the stairs straight to his room and slammed the door shut as he got weird looks from his family unit. Spilling the books onto the bed, he fervently read through each and every single one faster than a jack rabbit would take off. Each book talked about her tales and stories as they showed the heroic status of this one individual. It was all incredible really! He delved into his last book as he expected it to be the same stories and rumors. What surprised him was that it had pointed out her blood family and who she trained with and who was in every fleet and yada yada. One thing he noticed was that in her last battle (The last Stand of 5000 of which was right before she disappeared) she talked to her comrades about going home to Earth or taking up the job as a freelancer. He used his holotech, who was named "Athena", to look up what a freelancer was.

"A being who spent their career hunting down assassins and bounty hunters"

He froze at the thought of this, what if he could bring back captain Purkiss back into the fleet and reassure the myths and rumors, that was if she was alive or even real in the first place. The book also noted that her last known location was on Ikora (ya it's a destiny reference) and that she was alive and well.

He grabbed a note book and wrote down some notes and a plan to get her back.

She loved sushi (what ever that was)

Last known location was ikora

Should be alive

Talk to Adt'ran princess as well as fleet (somehow) and propose this plan

Since E. Purkiss pledged loyalty and protection to the princess specifically, she should arrive in the time of the royalty's danger

Get someone to potentially "assassinate" the princess

The fleet/princess talk to Purkiss

Idk buy some tacos????

It was fool proof. He needed to somehow contact the fleet AND the royal authorities and considering he was next to nothing to both parties, he had to work hard on this project and not get rejected the first time around. He was nervous and shook with anticipation. He didn't know if she was even real or if it was all a story to tell your kids around a camp fire.

He trudged over to his desk and turned in the radio. He turned to local news as he only used the outdated tech to listen to news, local police, or maybe he'd occasionally pick up obscure contact attempts. He had once gotten in trouble with the galactic court as he listened in to secret transmission of the main vessel to another military vessel as it talked about a rogue attempting to attack wrong doers.

He smiled at the thought of something that would help him and little did he know that just exactly that came on.

"We have gotten reports of an unidentified sos call from the distant planet A3TB6712. Here's the recording. "

"Hello, is anyone there?! My ship is destroyed and I'm severely injured. I repeat, my ship is destroyed and I'm stranded here with little food. I've lost alot of blood and I don't have proper medical equipment with me. Please anyo-" as the radio crackled to an eerie silence as the female voice came to an end, the previous announcer came to life on the intercom again and stated that it had sounded like the illusive Erin Purkiss herself.

It was like Mi'jal won the lottery! It was his ticket to meet his role model and what he thought was his warrior. He spent the rest of the night planning until he saw a smoke trail in the light of the 2 moons that rose in the sky a little off in the distance. Curiosity got the better of him and he packed necessities and even a medical pack with the hopes of it being the legend herself.

Excitement tore through him as he snuck off into the night, hoping to not be caught by authority. As he followed the black clouds as they caressed the night sky, his mind wondered a little too far as he thought about what would await him. It wasn't too far now, he only needed to travel about 10 minutes more before he reached his destination. He stopped. What if it was her? Would she punish him for breaking the Ad'riian law? Mi'jal shivered before he continued his journey.

She was human and humans were known for being ruthless and merciless to their victims. But they were friends with the Ad'rii, right? Right???

He let out a shaky breath as a ruined ship lay before him. It didn't seem like it crashed too long ago but long enough that the transmission made it onto the radial news. He looked around for any evidence of life as he turned on his ancient radio set again.

"-lease save me, anything would help, anyth- is worthless. These dammed creatures are probably sleeping by now-" He couldn't believe his hearing cavities, the same female voice, presumably Erin's, said that exact phrase of hopelessness? He had to persist if she was still alive. He examined the area around and inside the ship and found that the radio was torn out, shards of glass as well as blood and boot prints were leading out into the forest. What he assumed was the food storage was raided and the medical cabinet was empty. The only thing that was left behind was a golden plaque. It had terran writing on it but he didn't recognize the words as he was barely learning human tongue. He grabbed it off the wall and shoved it into his duffle bag as he raced into the wilderness, following the bloody book tracks left behind.

-----

I was light headed and on the verge of death as nausea took its place in my abdomen. "Damn it" whispered it's way out of my mouth as the fire in front of me kept me warm as I stuffed the last of my clean cloth into my wound. How I'm still alive, I'm not sure, but I escaped my old friends, my team, my family as that is what I cared about right now other than the blinding pain in my left kidney as I poured fresh water into the wound to try to keep it clean. That damned ship had enough medical supplies to mop the floor with but not sew up my f**- I sighed as the thought made its way into my mind. I used to be a hero, a legend to be told, but now all I do with my life is hunt down criminals and use my last dying breath to kill them before some miracle saved me from the cold hands of death. I was trained to work with other people, this lone wild thing was a pain in my as- "Arrgh!" Another bolt of pain shot through my gut.

Suddenly I felt as if I was being watched. I looked around as the hair on my neck stood on end, it felt as if by surroundings got colder. "W-Who's there!" A shaky figure came out of the bushes as he made his way forward. I kept my hand by my trusty quazart pistol.

"Who are you?" I said sternly as the small jelly creature stopped. "WHO ARE YOU!?" A shrill shriek made its way out of his lungs as he fell to the floor as if he was dead. I sighed and pulled him over to the fire. I muttered a quiet apology and explained that I was just startled by his appearance. He seemed to calm down a little bit but still remained still with fear. I kept my hand on the bloodied cloth that kept my wound closed and he seemed to notice this. He beemed with sudden confidence and spoke in a language that I long have forgotten. I gave him a confused look and he shoved a medical kit into my hands, a full kit with everything I needed.

Another miracle. I threaded the needle with the durable thread and started to disinfect my wound without hurting myself too badly. I had sewn the cut closed and prayed that I still had enough blood to function enough to not die. I'm still amazed I didn't pass out from blood loss honestly. The semi-transparent alien spoke again as the words were familiar. U slowly pieced together the words until it all clicked together in my mind. He was speaking English, I hadn't speak it since I left that fleet.

"Excuse me for bad English, but what is your name, human?" I contemplated telling him who I really was. He must've been too young to know why I left, why I vanished off the grid.

"Erin." As soon as those sounds left my mouth, it was as if he became possessed. He grew excited and shook with a new look in his eyes. He asked me millions of questions of how life in the fleet was and how did you become so brave and why did you leave.

--

As the foreign words left my gooey lips, she looked away, a ping of guilt settled in my gut.

"I left because I did something I shouldn't have."

Wonder and amazement took over his mind. How did she single handedly hide from the scouts and officers of the fleet, authorities, royal authorities, as well as avoided attention from everything else? She looked back over.

"When I stood there, facing all of those soldiers, I saw someone who was cruel and evil but the galactic fleet saw nothing of that. So I killed him myself when I got the chance and ran. The galactic court now wants my head for what I did, so I hide where I will be invisible until I can run without being seen. I crashed here about a day ago as I ran into the military vessels 3 and 8, behemoths of power those things are and they shot me out of the sky. They are still searching for me and will kill me when I get the chance."

Mi'jal was engrossed by the sudden confession but sat uncomfortably. "What did prince do?" His broken English again shine through his intelligent look.

"He killed and enslaved my people and took them from Earth to do his bidding. When I wad younger, I was taken into the fleet so I could avoid the chaos that was prince Ejett. They trained me too kill him but since that was so long ago, the price's actions became invisible and what I did was assumed to be wrong."

Silence again filled the space between them as she finished up her story and put the fire out. "If it wouldn't be too much of a hassle, may I stay at your dwelling for the night being?" Mi'jal thought about it and nodded. She grabbed her black helmet which would match the thermodynamic suit she was in the midst of putting on over her under clothing. The suit had a transistor radio, pouches for ammo and weapons, and a sheath for some sort of staff that was attached to the back. She slid the helmet on and helped the young alien up as they traversed the wildlife back to civilization.