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pinnithin-writes · 10 months ago

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Star-Blessed

Scene expansion from episode 27 of the Live and Let Fly podcast. 3809 words. Read on Ao3.

The wind on the mountain was cold enough to burn. Roland Mons Gelidus narrowed his eyes and tucked his muzzle into his scarf as he surveyed the horizon. Dusk approached and the sky was a freezing cobalt, the dying sun sinking rapidly out of sight. Behind him trailed nine other vlakas, breaking through the snowdrifts in single file.

Their journey was tethered by constant contact. Thick pelts of moon and ice, shot through with the bleak blue black of the darkening sky, brushed, connected, parted and met again as they trudged along. It wasn’t a time for speaking, conserving energy for the hike through silence and stilled hands, but each knew how the others felt about their trek. Heads ducked and ears flattened against the chill, emotions sparked between their fur like static in the cold, dry air. The scent of their nerves and exhaustion swirled on the wind.

The Lajok wilderness in early spring was a dangerous beauty. Its stillness couldn’t be trusted; every motionless mountainside held the promise of an avalanche, every too quiet night the careful inhale before a snowstorm. Soaring peaks of sheer gray stone funneled the pack into a saddle between them, the boughs of spruce and fir offering sparse shelter from the elements. As Roland studied their formations, heavy with ice crystals as they grew into the unforgiving wind, he wondered if he, too, would freeze in a bizarre shape if he stood still for too long. Even in spring, the cold was enough to sting his eyes and crust his eyelashes with frost, the air so frigid it hurt to breathe.

He turned to face his traveling companions. “It’s getting dark,” he said, signing as he spoke. “Let’s find a spot to camp.”

The Lajok Leadership Academy had dropped Roland and his squad in The Space Between approximately twelve hours ago, leaving them with nothing but basic survival essentials and their thick woolen uniform coats. Their assignment was simple: make it back to campus alive. Roland had been excited by the challenge in the beginning, stepping forth as he often did to take charge, as none had officially been assigned as squad leader. Finally, a chance to test themselves in a real life scenario, something he had hungered for after the negligible stakes of so many simulations and exercises.

Roland knew it would take all of them working together to survive the task. Each member of their squad had a unique set of skills and experiences to lend to the collective whole. This particular group he was quite close to; all third year classmates of his, all with intrinsic knowledge of each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Where Kedric lacked orienteering skills, Alyn covered him, and where Alyn struggled with trapping, Hoyt covered her, and so on.

He rapidly grew disillusioned as he hiked through the snow, realizing that their wilderness assignment was simply beleaguering a point. It was all very pedestrian to him, a lesson taught time and time again since the moment he was born. Cooperation is key, no man is an island, and only a team succeeds. It was inherent to any vlaka anywhere on the planet, an interdependence ingrained in every facet of their society.

Roland knew they shouldn’t be in their third year at the Academy and still learning something so elementary. He hadn’t enrolled to learn teamwork. He was here to learn leadership, and he was beginning to suspect the Lajok definition of leadership was just another way to keep vlakas like him planetside.

As the group dispersed to set up camp, a familiar touch on Roland’s elbow drew him out of his thoughts. At his side was Zuri, a deafblind squadmate he often defaulted to as his deputy. If we keep this pace, they signed, we should reach Lajok in three days’ time.

“Thank you, Zuri,” Roland replied aloud, taking their paw in his and signing his words against their palm. “How are the others faring? Have you noticed anything I should take note of?”

Their eyes, pale pink and wandering, couldn’t see Roland as they conversed, their expressive ears unable to pick up the cadence and timbre of his voice, but Roland knew they understood the intention behind his words better than most. Zuri gathered it in his scent, the pressure of his touch, even the resonance of his footfalls. It was a much needed reassurance, to have someone by his side who not only understood what he meant when his words failed him, but could also mediate between others just as successfully. They had an extrasensory talent for understanding others, as if they could smell the very words their emotions translated to.

So far so good, Zuri signed, though some think we should press on through the night. The Space Between in early spring makes them uneasy. They want to be back within the city’s rings as quickly as possible.

Roland’s snout wrinkled with disagreement. “I told everyone it would be unwise to push ourselves,” he stressed. “We know how to survive in an austere environment, and we won’t come to harm if we take the journey slowly and carefully. Who is saying this?”

Zuri offered a small, sympathetic smile as Roland expressed his concerns into their paw. Skinner and his usual clique, they signed back. Just something to keep an eye on. You know how he can get.

Roland did know how he could get. Gaius Skinner Valens, who went by Skinner amongst his squadmates, was often at odds with Roland Mons Gelidus. He was an irascible, opinionated vlaka whose headstrong leadership style clashed with Roland’s thoughtful, meticulous approach. Troubled, he turned his gaze to the horizon again. The temperatures would drop from dangerous to deadly come nightfall, and they couldn’t afford to lose a single vlaka if they were to survive the journey. Something to keep an eye on, indeed. Perhaps he should speak to Skinner early before this came to a head.

For now, camp setup took priority. Starting a fire, thawing provisions, and divvying rations was the simpler matter, while the majority of the group’s efforts went toward excavating a snow trench to shelter against the elements. Tempers in the camp were tense but subdued, packmates conversing through low whuffs and tactile signing. Occasionally, a brief spat broke out and dissipated in moments - a harmless vent of anxiety.

Regardless of what their opinions might be, everyone contributed to the chore, tolerating Roland’s hovering. While he was confident in the squad’s ability to survive in The Space Between, the unpredictable spring weather made him nervous, and monitoring the particulars helped him maintain a sense of control. Thankfully, he had Zuri to soften things when his orders came out unintentionally abrasive.

He took his own turn clearing out the trench, his paw pads stinging with cold. He could hear his own labored breathing and the howling wind as he worked, but underneath that was the faint nocturnal call of birds, the sparse patter of prey animal feet. If Lajok’s smallest creatures could survive out here, so could they. Not to mention dozens of lone vlakas survive in The Space Between year round, doing whatever it is they do beyond the city walls. Roland and his classmates had survived their adolescent journeys through the wilderness in valai, after all.

His breath clouded the air as he appraised the work, questioning himself. This was no longer valai, though. And they were no longer children.

As he contemplated this, his ears picked up the low tones of a grumbled conversation. A short distance away, Skinner huddled with a few of his friends, paws jammed in his coat pockets. Even without signing his words, his scent was enough to convey his dissatisfaction. It stained the bitter wind with a thick yellow anxiety.

“...Wasting time out here digging ditches,” Roland heard him mutter. “He’s going to get us all killed.”

“I’m sorry, Skinner,” Roland interjected, brushing snow from his palms. “If there’s something you’re concerned about, please do tell me.”

The other vlaka scoffed at the interruption, turning from his huddle with a reproachful look. His eyes were the same ice blue as frost in moonlight. “Oh, now he knows there’s a problem,” he sneered.

Roland had no idea what Skinner meant. If he was so bothered by making camp here, why hadn’t he said something about it earlier? Zuri told him Skinner was uneasy, but this level of hostility was unexpected. “I… apologize,” Roland said, “I was unaware you had a grievance. If you have input that would better serve the group, I’d love to hear it.”

“Don’t play ignorant. I didn’t say anything because I knew you’d only pretend to listen,” Skinner snapped back. “Then you’d just go on ahead and do what you were planning on doing anyway. Tyrant.” As he spoke, the two other vlakas with him reflected his attitude, shifting their weight from foot to foot and raising their hackles.

Roland exhaled heavily through his nose. He really tried with Skinner. Even if he didn’t like him, he still respected him for his boldness. When it came to making quick, decisive action, he was the best of them, and Roland had full confidence he would make an excellent battle tactician someday. Matters of caution didn’t suit him, however, and he became agitated at anything that made him wait. He should have expected opposition from the likes of him.

Skinner’s coat, streaked with indigo, bristled as he continued. “The longer we wait out here, the more we risk getting injured or worse. We don’t have enough rations for a three day trip. We’re practically buried in snow. Spring is here, Roland. What if there’s an avalanche?” He gestured to the nearby mountainside, where its sheer face hung heavy with snow.

Work around the camp ground to a halt as their raised voices drew the others’ attention. Roland caught movement in his periphery, but it was only Zuri, signing to ask a squadmate what was going on. Though Skinner and Roland were only verbally disagreeing, the deaf members could read lips well enough to gather the dispute. Uneasiness rippled through the pack, their fear scent betraying an erosion of faith.

Roland scowled. The name calling was a little juvenile, but he had heard worse. Sowing discord among the squad he wouldn’t stand for. He cut his eyes to Tiber, a classmate whose wilderness skills he trusted the most. “Is there risk of an avalanche?” he asked, signing out the words along with his question.

Tiber studied the mountainside carefully, checking her own work, then gave a reticent shake of her head. “Snowpacks look stable, no recent displacement, still too early for rapid melting,” she responded, also signing. “There’s risk, but it’s low.”

Her words confirmed aloud the reasoning in his head. If the choice was between an avalanche, which might kill them, and subzero temperatures, which most definitely would, he was picking the avalanche.

Roland turned a justified stare on his opposition, hoping the public address of Skinner’s concerns would be enough to quell the squad’s anxieties. “Pardon me, Skinner, if I trust the words of our most experienced mountaineer over yours,” he said, unable to keep the disdain from his tone.

Skinner rolled his eyes. “They’ll say whatever you want to hear because they know you’ll walk all over them if they don’t,” he said. “I should be leading this squad, not you. Everyone agrees.”

Did they? Roland wanted to pass a glance at his pack to verify, but he forced himself to hold eye contact with Skinner, even as doubt stormed his heart.

“This is challenging for all of us,” he shot back. “It’s going to be a hard couple of days. If you’re afraid, just admit it.” He meant it without malice, but like many things he said, it came out insultingly. “We’ll get through it together.”

“Afraid?” Skinner repeated. His tail lashed with agitation. “The only thing I’m afraid of is your stupidity. I’m putting an end to this.” He took a challenging step forward, eyes bright and alert. “Duel me. Winner takes charge of the assignment.”

The gall! Roland bared his teeth. “I’m not fighting you, Skinner,” he snarled, “have you lost your senses?”

The hot, impulsive side of him wanted desperately to accept the challenge. Prove his capability, vent his aggression, and put an end to this ridiculous argument all at once, so they could get back to more important matters.

Roland swallowed back the growl in his throat. He shared Skinner’s fear of dying, out here in the Lajok wilderness where the elements leached the very life from your blood, but it was eclipsed by a something greater. The onus of their survival rest upon his leadership. If anyone succumbed to cold, hunger, exhaustion, or injury based on his decisions, it would be no different than if he’d killed them with his own two paws.

He couldn’t risk hurting a packmate, no mater how badly he wanted to. He held his ground. The other vlakas flanking Skinner shifted indecisively, and all around them the temperatures continued to fall.

Skinner was dauntless. Steam and fear scent rising from his body, he showed no indication of backing down. “I thought you’d say that, coward,” he spat. “It always has to be your way, on your terms.” He pointed defiantly at Roland. “I’m not letting you dig your heels in this time. You aren’t fit to lead this troop. Step down. I won’t say it again.”

Roland was beginning to gather that this stemmed from more than just the present situation, but he couldn’t examine how many times he might have unintentionally slighted the other man that very instant. “These are unacceptable terms-” he tried to protest, and Skinner charged him.

Reflex kicked in and he ducked, unable to fully dodge the claws aimed at his face. The blow came first and then the pain, a stinging, hot gash that ripped down the length of his snout.

He clapped a paw to his muzzle and staggered back. The scent of his blood drenched the air, soaking through his fur and spattering scarlet on the snow. If he hadn’t moved in time, Skinner could have taken out one of his eyes. Panting, he felt a growl vibrating his chest, his nervous system flooding with the instinct to defend himself.

“Calm yourself, man!” Roland barked, both to himself and the opposition. Skinner was already preparing for another attack, his lithe body low and stanced to strike.

As Roland braced himself, the pack surged around him, forming a barrier between him and Skinner. Backed up against him was Zuri, as vicious as he had ever seen them, teeth bared, hackles on end, head ducked and ears pinned against their skull. The others snarled and snapped at Skinner, scolding him for disrupting the order of the pack. It was a chastisement beyond words, coming from a primal place before the vlaka had developed language.

Roland was stunned. Both at Skinner’s audacity and the loyalty of his squadmates. He was tempted to resist their protection, to order them to step aside, to tell them this wasn’t their fight. But enveloped as he was by the animal congruence of his team, he allowed their support to wash over him. He realized, with a tiny thrill of vindication, that the pack took Skinner’s challenge as a threat to them all. A leader spoke for the group and the group spoke for him. His successes were their successes, his failures their failures. His squad would not stand for hostility from a wolf who would rather endanger them than trust their collective capability.

Skinner backed off, breathing hard, as his brethren rebuked him. He flicked his eyes questioningly to his usual supporters, but even they were unwilling to take his side against the rest of the squad. Fear and fury billowed off him and curled into the frozen sky; Roland could smell his humiliation even from behind the resolute wall of his squadmates. Skinner let out a snarl and set off, disgraced, away from camp.

“Skinner, wait!” Roland called, watching the indigo coat lose itself amidst the pines and snowdrifts. He tried to shoulder past his team to pursue him, but Zuri caught his arm.

Let him go, they signed, their hand motions quick and sharp with their remaining agitation. You can’t get yourself killed going after him. We need you here.

As much as he hated to admit it, they were right. If he ventured into the polar darkness, he was just as foolish as Skinner. All the bravado and self assurance left him in a rush and he took a step back, reeling from what had just happened. Blood dripped from his wound, glittering rubies congealing in the snow.

The phalanx dispersed, his packmates murmuring and signing amongst themselves. One of them offered Roland a clean cloth, which he gratefully pressed against his muzzle until the bleeding stopped. Though the cuts stung, resentment found no purchase in his heart as he stared at the place where Skinner had fled. The squad finished digging out their shelter and turned to other matters: eating and drinking, checking their paws for blisters, patching over minor injuries, wrapping hands and taping feet to protect against the next day’s strenuous hike. As night swallowed them, they huddled against the deadly temperatures inside the snow trench.

Roland posted himself at the entrance, watching the darkness, an anxious, guilty dread gnawing at his chest. Ordinarily, he would take this downtime to check on everyone, but the habit escaped him as he stewed in his emotions. He was furious with himself for allowing the argument to happen, for letting it escalate to violence, for losing a member of the team. It didn’t matter that he had successfully avoided a fight. If Skinner died out there, it was Roland’s fault.

He pressed his shoulder against the cold trench wall, listening to his companions slumbering at his back. He talked himself down from searching for Skinner over and over again, and as he did so his gaze wandered heavenward. Cradled by the mountains, away from the light and haze of the capital city, the night sky was a sprawling, starlit invitation. Roland found himself momentarily breathless, entranced by the glimmering cosmic expanse above him. There were entire worlds beyond the Vast, mere pinpoints of light from his small, insignificant vantage on Lajok.

Why he was doing this? Attending the academy, honing his leadership, striving for achievement - it all felt so meaningless under the infinite sky. The Circle of Lajok only fought amongst themselves, wasting time deciding what was best for the planet while Sota continued to die. Did his dispute with Skinner portend his future? Was their assignment supposed to teach him acceptable loss? This couldn’t be the life he was meant for, to lead his people confidently to their end.

Rest, the stars sang him, and Roland felt a profound quiet overtake his troubled heart. Rest, yes. He needed to rest. He still had to lead the remainder of the squad safely out of the wilderness, and he was doing no one any favors wasting precious energy on penitence. With one last look at the sky, he ducked inside the snow trench, pressing himself amongst the furry bodies of his squadmates. He thought he would be too anxious to sleep, but exhaustion took him the moment he closed his eyes.

He didn’t know how much time had passed - minutes, hours - when movement stirred him awake. Roland startled, expecting an intruder, but the familiar scent of Skinner quelled his alarm. Wordlessly, he moved aside to allow room for his wayward teammate. Skinner settled sullenly against him, shivering from his solitary trek through the cold. Any impulse to scold him for his rashness was erased by a relief so powerful it made Roland dizzy. Together they nestled in close, sharing in the warmth of the pack.

Abruptly, he returned to the present. He was no longer on Lajok, the wound on his muzzle having long since healed over. The mist clouding the hall wasn’t from his breath in the frigid air, but the steam from Morgan’s shower. His hand hovered over their door, his determined knock utterly arrested by their haunting, bittersweet song.

His fear of losing Morgan was what brought him to their quarters in the first place. The necrograft they volunteered for was a point of contention he didn’t wish to escalate, but concern roiled within him all the same. Skinner had survived his recklessness, but would Morgan? He had come to care for and depend on them, even more so than Zuri back in his Academy days. While he couldn’t afford to lose any one of his crew, he knew he would be especially devastated if something happened to Morgan.

Roland had always struggled with his words, even on Lajok with the aid of all his senses. Now, it was even more difficult to convey how he felt, speaking a language that was not his birth tongue, parlaying with people who couldn’t scent the true emotions behind his stilted words. He spoke as clearly and often as he could, for fear of being misinterpreted, but it seemed the more he said, the deeper he dug himself. He had offended everyone on his crew dozens of times over, and still, somehow, they followed him.

It left him with the same shocked assurance he’d felt in The Space Between, with his squad rallied around him. Surely the crew didn’t defer to him based on rank alone at this point, but it was hard to believe everyone had his back when he fumbled his title left and right. This inexplicable cooperation he owed largely to Morgan.

The song ended, but its echoes rippled around him like ghosts. He lowered his hand, feeling unsettled and wistful and vaguely itchy, his fur saturated with ambient humidity. Morgan’s lyrics had slammed him back in time, back to the mountains of his namesake. A tremendous homesickness overwhelmed him. Rather than tamp it down as he usually did, he took a moment to sit with it, his throat tightening and his eyes prickling with tears.

One day the sun would set on his homeworld for the last time. How cruel it was, to love something so doomed.

He had left his circles - his family - behind on Lajok. The crew he captained now was a naive replacement, a product of fleeing failure. Still, something within him ached for this to work. His leadership was tested and tested again, yet he felt a peculiar fondness for it, every impulse to run outweighed by a deeper desire for connection. This crew was just as hungry for life as he was. He felt privileged to lead them.

Roland drew in a shaky breath. Only after sunset could he see the stars.

He raised his hand and knocked.

#ink #writing #fanfiction #extended scene #character study #starfinder #live and let fly #llf #writers on tumblr #welcome to wolf guy rotc #good luck out there idiot #lajok #vlaka

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goalhofer · 2 months ago

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2024 olympians representing non birth nation by country part 9

South Sudan: Sunday Dech, basketball (Ethiopia); Wenyen Gabriel, basketball (Sudan); Carlik Jones, basketball (U.S.A.); Anyiarbany Makoi, basketball (Egypt); Anunwa Omot, basketball (Kenya); Marial Shayok, basketball (Canada) & J.T. Thor, basketball (U.S.A.) Spain: Yulenmis Aguilar, athletics (Cuba); Mohamed Attaoui, athletics (Morocco); Alexandrina Barbosa, handball (Portugal); Polina Berezina, gymnastics (Russia); Lorenzo Brown, basketball (U.S.A.); Cristina Bucșa, tennis (Moldova); Juana Camilión, basketball (Argentina); Elvin Canales, athletics (Honduras); Marcus Cooper, canoeing (U.K.); Andy Criere, surfing (France); Thierno Diallo, gymnastics (Guinea); Jordan Díaz, athletics (Cuba); Tessy Ebosele, athletics (Morocco); Martin Faměra, water polo (Czech Republic); Megan Gustafson, basketball (U.S.A.); Jennifer Gutiérrez, handball (Switzerland); Lilou Lluís, swimming (France); Majida Maayouf, athletics (Morocco); Adel Mechaal, athletics (Morocco); Joaquín Menini, field hockey (Argentina); Tristani Mosakhlishvili, judo (Georgia); Thierry Ndikumwenayo, athletics (Burundi); Tariku Novales, athletics (Ethiopia); Abdessamad Oukhelfen, athletics (Morocco); Alisa Ozhogina, swimming (Russia); Felipe Perrone, water polo (Brazil); Enmanuel Reyes, boxing (Cuba); Leslie Romero, climbing (Venezuela); Nikoloz Sheradishvili, judo (Georgia); Lysa Tchaptchet, handball (Cameroon); Florian Trittel, sailing (Switzerland); Carmen Weiler, swimming (Singapore) & Miguel Zapata, gymnastics (Dominican Republic) Sri Lanka: Kyle Abeysinghe, swimming (U.S.A.) Sudan: Yaseen Abdalla, athletics (U.S.A.) & Ziyad Saleem, swimming (U.S.A.) Suriname: Irvin Hoost, swimming (U.S.A.) Sweden: Tyra Axnér, handball (Germany); Armand Duplantis, athletics (U.S.A.); Suldan Hassan, athletics (Somalia); Marlena Jawaid, pentathlon (Bulgaria) Felix Möller, handball (Germany); Björn Seeliger, swimming (Germany) & Sofia Sjöborg, equestrian (U.K.) Switzerland: Tadesse Abraham, athletics (Eritrea); Alexandre Dällenbach, pentathlon (France); Nikita Ducarroz, cycling (France); Helen Eticha, athletics (Ethiopia); Angelica Moser, athletics (U.S.A.); Jenjira Stadelmann, badminton (Thailand); Felix Svensson, athletics (Sweden); Albane Valenzuela, golf (U.S.A.) & Felix Vogg, equestrian (Germany) Syria: Lais Najjar, gymnastics (U.S.A.) Tajikistan: Somon Makhmadbekov, judo (Russia) & Viktor Rassadin, wrestling (Russia) Thailand: Jai Angsuthasawit, cycling (Australia); Tanya Prucksakorn, shooting (U.S.A.) & Joseph Weston, sailing (U.K.) Togo: Naomi Akakpo, athletics (France) Tonga: Noelani Day, swimming (U.S.A.) Trinidad & Tobago: Dylan Carter, swimming (U.S.A.); Zuri Ferguson, swimming (U.S.A.); Sanaa Frederick, athletics (U.S.A.); Sole Frederick, athletics (U.S.A.) & Jaden Marchan, athletics (U.S.A.) Tunisia: Jamila Boulakbech, swimming (France); Selma Dhaouadi, rowing (France); Salim Jemai, canoeing (France) & Sarra Mzougui, judo (Italy) Turkey: Vedat Albayrak, judo (Kazakhstan); Adem Asil, gymnastics (Egypt); Yasmani Copello, athletics (Cuba); Meliha İsmailoğlu-Diken, volleyball (Bosnia & Herzegovina); Kaan Kigen-Özbilen, athletics (Kenya); Kayra Özdemir, judo (France); Buse Savaşkan, athletics (Cyprus); Melissa Vargas, volleyball (Cuba) & Mihael Žgank, judo (Slovenia) Uganda: Sgt. Rebecca Ayeko, athletics (Kenya); Mercyline Chelanga, athletics (Kenya); Gloria Muzito, swimming (Sweden) & Jesse Ssengonzi, swimming (U.S.A.) Ukraine: Olena Kostevych, shooting (Russia); Olena Kryvytska, fencing (Russia); Perviz Nesibov, wrestling (Azerbaijan) & Maksym Talovierov, soccer (Russia) UAE: Aram Grigoryan, judo (Russia); Bishreltiin Khorloodoi, judo (Mongolia); Dzhafar Kostoev, judo (Russia); Magomedomar Magomedomarov, judo (Russia); Bayanmönkhiin Narmandakh, judo (Mongolia) & Nugzar Tatalashvili, judo (Georgia) Uruguay: Baltazar Amaya, rugby (Argentina)

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hannahhook7744 · 1 year ago

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„A little help would be great.“

(Jace Badun is not paid enough for this.)

Trigger warnings: violence, fighting, injuries, swearing, etc. Could be seen as a prequel to ‘We don’t get paid enough for this.’ Notes: Glauco is Snow White and Prince Floran’s son. Zuri is the adopted daughter of Shenzi the hyena. Hadie is Persephone and Hades’ kid. Deja is Shan Yu’s daughter. Paro is Pain and Hedone’s son. Lada is Bridget the Hag’s daughter. Danny is Wendy and Edward’s son.

—————————————————————————

“A little help would be nice, “ Jace snapped at his friends—more than a little irritated at his current predicament.

Said predicament being the seven-way fight he was trying to break up between seven of his proteges—Glauco White, Hadie Athanasiou, Danny Darling-Cooper, Paro Imp, Zuri Crocuta, Shan Deja, and Lada Hag.

Glauco and Danny were rolling on the floor, trying desperately to get hits in on Paro and Hadie who were more successful in their attempts to hit, kick, and bite them.

Zuri was biting Deja and Lada was trying to kick her in the head from Jace’s arms—which was hard because of how small she was and how tall he was—but only really managed to kick him.

Yeah, a little help would be more than a little nice, actually.

“We are helping,” Harry replied seriously—as if Jace didn’t know that he was a lying liar that lies—from where he was sitting on top of his desk in their room in their new apartment.

“Yeah, we’re watching the rest of the kids,” Eddie added, just as seriously—not looking up from whatever he was doing on his phone and not moving an inch from his spot on the floor.

“Yeah!” Hermie chimed in from where she was somehow dangling upside down from the ceiling.

Reza didn’t even bother to nod or pretend like he was paying attention to the conversation as he fiddled with a telescope he was trying to build.

Jace was having none of it.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!”

“It is not!”

“Only ONE of you are even looking at the kids right now and it’s Yzla! And I’m not even sure she’s awake right now!”

“I am–”

“That’s great. Can you help m–ow!”

Jace dropped Lada and grabbed his eye—which the small girl had somehow managed to kick despite her legs being nowhere near his face.

Lada landed on the fighting boys and, upon getting caught in the crossfire, decided that Deja was on her own in her fight with Zuri and headbutted Paro. Who in retaliation yanked on her hair, leaving Hadie at Danny and Glauco’s nonexistent mercy.

Yzla glanced at him then at the children and said one thing.

“Nope.”

Jace took a deep breath. Still holding his eye as he counted to ten.

“I hate all of you.”

“Love you too, Cuz.”

“Fuck off!”

“Jace!”

“Don’t Jace me!”

Eddie snorted and Hermie giggled. “You two sound like an old married couple.”

“I am not marrying Jace! The only person I’m ever gonna marry, if anyone, is Reza. Or Claudine, maybe!”

That caught Reza’s attention “Wait, what?”

“Nothing. Ignore that.”

All while the kids continued to fight and the fire alarm went (likely due to Hadie’s now flaming hair).

Jace groaned, pinching his nose. “That’s it! I’m going on vacation!”

Which only caused Eddie to snort again and Harry and Hermie to laugh.

“I mean it this time!”

#descendants #disney descendants #melissa de la cruz #disney #descendants au #disney descendants au #Jace Badun doesn't get paid enough for this #the badun detective agency #descendants fanfic #disney descendants fanfic #etc

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dustedmagazine · 1 year ago

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Aaron Dooley — The International Disassociation of (Centripetal Force/Island House)

This second outing of 2023 from Aaron Dooley’s seven-piece jazz ensemble shimmers and shifts, an indefinite haze of sound breaking, sporadically, for clear flights of melody. Dooley, a bass player out of Denver, plunks a subtle, unsettling undertow, allowing other instruments—pedal steel, saxophone, even drums—to slip to the forefront. All improvised, these cuts absorb multiple points of view into free-flowing inquiry, not muddying them, but softening the edges.

“Passing Tres” for instance weaves slow-moving textures of bass, percussion, saxophone and trumpet together, letting the drums float to foreground with their punches and cymbal shivers (that’s Diego Lucero on kit). It’s a luminous, somewhat indistinct sound with flares of fusion-y futurism, a musing, narcotic drift to it. A skirling saxophone, played by Gabriella Zelek, breaks through like a swimmer to the surface, the bass roiling deep underneath. “What About Being Alone” shifts the focus to Cooper Dickerson, his plaintive surges of pedal steel lifting out of the soundscape, while Zelek’s sax swirls and blows around him. “Reward of Consequence” provides space for Aesop Adams, the guitarist and Dooley’s partner in Osmium House, to let things rip.

The disc’s first three cuts are relatively concise. The last three stretch to wider horizons. “Westbound Alameda” does this in a lyrical, laid-back way, an elastic foundation of bass and struck percussion supporting flares of trumpet (Gavin Susalski), slithery runs of sax and, again, that gorgeous pedal steel. “Funeral of Fireflies” abstracts country pedal steel into abstract shapes, letting the thump and pound of percussion push it away from conventional twang. Adams, here, executes whistle-high harmonics that cut through the haze and Zuri Barnes sings warmly, evocatively in the background. It sounds like a slightly countrified version of Laraaji’s transcendental bliss. Dooley’s band is rooted in jazz, but not confined by it. The final track with its stand-up bass and swaggering horn line sounds the most like big band swing. It also allows the wildest bouts of brass improvisation, with Susalski arcing off into the stratosphere from a swaying, grounding foundation.

It's not easy to get even a couple of people on one page, let alone seven. These tracks show a still relatively new configuration of people finding their way together, making a shared path and diverging from it.

Jennifer Kelly

#aaron dooley #the international disassociation of #centripetal force #island house #jennifer kelly #albumreview #dusted magazine #jazz #large ensemble #improvised music #fusion #Bandcamp

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happy-lemon · 17 days ago

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Someone saved someone saved (someone saved my life tonight) (someone saved my life tonight) ~ Elton John, 1975

#ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #caimile adomako #hobe kahananui #zuri cooper #generation chaos #generation zuri #tw: drug addiction #tw: overdose

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zuriboutique · 7 months ago

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G'day Mates! Unleash Your Inner Hair Goddess with Zuri Boutique's Invisible Weft Hair Extensions

Calling all Aussie hair enthusiasts! Tired of lacklustre locks that just won't cooperate with the windswept charm of our beautiful country? Here at Zuri Boutique, we understand the struggle. From the sun-drenched coasts to the bustling city streets, Aussie weather can be a wild ride – and that includes your hair! But fear not, because we're here to weave your dream mane into reality, one strand at a time.

Introducing Invisible Weft Hair Extensions: Your Secret Weapon for Effortlessly Gorgeous Hair

Forget bulky, obvious extensions that scream "fake." At Zuri Boutique, we specialise in invisible weft hair extensions – a revolutionary technique that creates natural-looking volume and length, so seamless, it'll be your best-kept beauty secret. Here's how invisible weft hair extensions transform your hair game:

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For years, Zuri Boutique has been a haven for Aussie hair enthusiasts seeking to transform their locks. Here's what sets us apart:

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Embrace Your Inner Hair Goddess Today!

Don't let another day pass with less-than-fabulous hair. With Zuri Boutique's invisible weft hair extensions, you can achieve the luxurious, voluminous locks you've always dreamed of. Whether you crave windproof confidence for coastal adventures or head-turning volume for city life, we've got you covered.

Visit Zuri Boutique Today and Let Us Weave Your Hair Dreams into Reality!

Explore our website to learn more about invisible weft hair extensions or book your free consultation with one of our expert stylists. Let Zuri Boutique be your partner in unlocking your inner hair goddess and embracing the confidence that comes with feeling beautifully you.

Contact - Web - https://www.zuriboutique.com.au/flat-silk-weft-hair-extensions Mail - [email protected] Ph - 0433414987 Address - 33 Inkerman Street Saint Kilda, Victoria 3182, AU

#flat silk weft hair extensions #invisible weft hair extensions #flat silk weft

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themovieblogonline · 10 months ago

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Easter Bloody Easter Review: A Jumbled Hop into Horror

Easter, a time synonymous with rebirth and chocolate bunnies, gets a horrific twist in Easter Bloody Easter, a film that ambitiously attempts to redefine the holiday through a lens smeared with blood and dark comedy. Directed by Diane Foster, with a script penned by Allison Lobel, the movie seeks to merge the quaint charm of small-town America with the raw, unfiltered terror of a mythical creature gone rogue. However, despite its unique premise and occasional moments of brilliance, Easter Bloody Easter stumbles more than it scares, delivering a half-baked narrative that's as confusing as the folklore it tries to exploit. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6DM55QkFlLM At the heart of the story is Jeanie Cooper, played by Diane Foster. She finds herself the unexpected heroine in a battle against a demonic Jackalope and its legion of malevolent bunnies. The supporting cast, including Kelly Grant, Lobel, Zuri Starks, and D'Andre Noiré, contribute to the ensemble with varying degrees of success, each trying to navigate the chaos that has besieged their once-peaceful town. The premise, though intriguing, is perhaps the film's first stumbling block. The fusion of Easter iconography with elements of horror creates an awkward juxtaposition that the film struggles to balance. Instead of a seamless integration of horror and dark comedy, Easter Bloody Easter often feels like a genre identity crisis, unsure whether to fully embrace its B-movie potential or strive for something more profound. The screenplay, crafted by Lobel, attempts to weave a tapestry of intrigue, humor, and horror but ends up tangled. Characters are thinly written, their motivations as murky as the film's poorly lit scenes. Dialogues, which aim for wit and gravitas, frequently land with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, undermining moments that could have been genuinely suspenseful or moving. Diane Foster, as both lead actress and director, delivers an earnest but shallow performance. As Jeanie Cooper, Foster battles not just demonic bunnies but also the script's limitations. Her character's development feels as rushed as the film's haphazard editing. The supporting cast does what they can with the material, but their performances often veer into caricature, further detracting from the film's attempt at a cohesive narrative. Visually, Easter Bloody Easter is a mixed basket. There are fleeting moments of genuine visual flair – a testament to the film's cinematographer – that capture the eerie beauty of the small town turned battleground. However, these instances get overshadowed by inconsistent special effects that fluctuate between laughably amateurish and surprisingly decent. The inconsistent portrayal of the Jackalope undermines the film's attempts to create fear. The thematic ambition of the film – to explore the duality of tradition and terror – is commendable but poorly executed. The Jackalope allegory is overshadowed by a plot focused on shock value. This superficial approach extends to the film's commentary on small-town dynamics, which is as nuanced as a bunny hop. Moreover, the film's pacing is as erratic as its antagonist's rampage. The story rushes through moments meant to build tension, while scenes of little importance to the plot or character development meander aimlessly. This inconsistency in pacing, along with a score that one can only describe as jarringly anachronistic, disorients the viewer. The humor, a potentially saving grace for a film teetering on the edge of camp, hits or misses. For every joke that lands, there are several that do not. The comedy often feels forced, detracting from the film's horror elements rather than complementing them. This imbalance makes Easter Bloody Easter a confusing watch. It leaves the viewer left unsure whether to laugh, scream, or simply shake their head in disbelief. Overall: Easter Bloody Easter is a film with an identity crisis. It wanted to be both a commentary on and a caricature of horror, but fails to fully realize either. The film’s attempt to stitch together elements of folklore, horror, and comedy results in a Frankenstein's monster of a movie. Its ambition is evident, and for that, it deserves some credit. Yet, ambition without execution results in a product that is hard to recommend.

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moviesandmania · 11 months ago

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EASTER BLOODY EASTER Cheesy comedy horror - preview with trailer

‘Hoppy hunting!’ Easter Bloody Easter is a 2024 cheesy comedy horror film about a housewife battling the Jackalope and his army of devilish bunnies as they embark on a murder spree over the Easter weekend. Directed by and starring Diane Foster from a screenplay written by co-producer Allison Lobel. Also produced by Will Amato, Rafi Jacobs, Liana Montemayor and Mitch Olson. The American WallyBird…

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#2024 #Allison Lobel #comedy horror #D&039;Andre Noiré #Diane Foster #Easter Bloody Easter #Kelly Grant #Miles Cooper #preview #trailer #Zach Kanner #Zuri Starks

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illionoisprelawland-blog · 1 year ago

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Appropriation & Acquisition: How Section 7008 of the U.S Annual Appropriations Act Impacts U.S Interests in Niger

By Zuri Cofer, The University Chicago Class of 2025

October 16, 2023

This past week, the Biden administration formally labeled the July 2023 militant removal of Nigerien President, Mohamed Bazoum, as a coup. This decision ultimately strained the United States’ relationship with Niger as the formal recognition of the coup triggered the use of Section 7008 of the Department of State’s annual appropriations act. This act describes how government aid is to be suspended if a “country’s military has overthrown, or played a decisive role in overthrowing, the government” [1].

Aid Termination Before & After 7008

On October 10th, the U.S Department of State issued a statement noting that in accordance with section 7008 of the annual appropriations act, the United States would be suspending most of its assistance to the government of Niger [2]. This suspension includes the termination of certain foreign assistance programs that were previously temporarily paused in August, programs which total nearly two hundred million dollars. However, aid suspensions began long before this week’s developments. The Millennium Challenge Corporation, for example, a bilateral United States foreign aid agency [3], suspended its aid to Niger in August, including its $302 million Regional Transportation Compact.

PUBLIC LAW 117–328—DEC. 29, 2022 136 STAT. 4459

Prior to these suspensions, both those before and after the U.S acknowledged the coup, the Department of Defense had already ended security cooperation and counterterrorism operations with the Nigerien government and proceeded to strengthen its branches in both Niamey and Agadez [4].

Western Interest in Niger

Valued globally for its rich resources, extensive economic potential, and proximity to Europe and the Middle East, Niger has increasingly become a country of Western interest. Prior to the coup, Niger served as a key ally in American, French, and Italian operations to fight against extremists in the Sahel region. Niger, along with Tunisia, Libya, and Morocco, have all been partners in stopping migrants from crossing the Mediterranean into Europe. But as chaos ensued and aid suspended, the U.S government was posed with the challenge of ensuring Niger continues to be a partner in counterterrorism efforts. There is also the concern that the country will turn to the Russian mercenary group, Wagner, for security assistance, as others in the region have [5]. Given the restrictions from section 7008, the “U.S military operations in Niger are now limited to flying intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance aircrafts to ensure the continued safety of the U.S personnel who remain in the country” [6]. Additionally, major counterterrorism operations will remain paused given that their continuance to work with the Nigerien armed forces would be a violation of section 7008 [6].

Wagner Group

Days after the July coup, Wagner Group leader Yevgeny Prigozhin, offered his services to the new junta leader, raising suspicions that Moscow had orchestrated the uprising; however, there is no current evidence to show that either Prigozhin or President Vladimir Putin were involved in the takeover [7]. Despite this, the removal of Bazoum posed an important opportunity for both Prigozhin and Putin to move on from the failed mutiny attempt in June and demonstrate how the Wagner Group presence is strengthening in Africa while the presence of Western militaries, particularly of France and the United States, fades [7].

The United States previously had about 1100 troops between its two military bases in Niger. It cooperated with government officials and operated a security cooperation assistance program for Nigerien troops fighting Al Qaeda and other extremist militants in the Sahel [7].

As of last August, the Wagner Group had deployed forces in Mali, Libya, the Central African Republic, and Sudan, siphoning resources, and offering a quid pro quo of military personnel in exchange for mining contracts to extract gold, diamonds, and other commodities [7]. However, despite its first look success, the Wagner Group has made enemies of terrorist organizations in the area, prompting a spike in extremist recruitment, and thus posing as a security risk to the United States. The coup has the potential to bring in extremist members from Nigeria, shutting the U.S out of the region and placing Wagner as a greater threat to U.S operations [7].

Now formally acknowledged by the U.S government, the Nigerien coup has proven to be far more complex, extending beyond a domestic issue of power. Section 7008 demonstrates the tension between amended U.S law and global interest as the U.S struggles to compete with the Wagner group in a proxy-like war.

______________________________________________________________

[1] Coup-Related Restrictions in U.S. Foreign Aid Appropriations, sgp.fas.org/crs/row/IF11267.pdf. Accessed 13 Oct. 2023.

[2] “Military Coup d’etat in Niger - United States Department of State.” U.S. Department of State, U.S. Department of State, 10 Oct. 2023, www.state.gov/military-coup-detat-in-niger/.

[3] Millennium Challenge Corporation, www.mcc.gov/. Accessed 13 Oct. 2023.

[4] “U.S. Says July Ouster of Niger’s Government Was a Coup.” U.S. Department of Defense, www.defense.gov/News/News-Stories/Article/Article/3552918/us-says-july-ouster-of-nigers-government-was-a-coup/. Accessed 13 Oct. 2023.

[5] Kelemen, Michele. “Here’s Why Niger’s Coup Matters to the U.S.” NPR, NPR, 27 July 2023, www.npr.org/2023/07/27/1190463279/niger-coup-us-counterterrorism-boko-haram-isis.

[6] “U.S. Says July Ouster of Niger’s Government Was a Coup.” U.S. Department of Defense, www.defense.gov/News/News-Stories/Article/Article/3552918/us-says-july-ouster-of-nigers-government-was-a-coup/. Accessed 13 Oct. 2023.

[7] Clarke, Colin P. “If Your Country Is Falling Apart, the Wagner Group Will Be There.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 11 Aug. 2023, www.nytimes.com/2023/08/11/opinion/wagner-russia-prigozhin-bazoum-niger.html

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