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liketwoswansinbalance · 6 months

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Smeared Hearts

Credit to @rosellemoon for this oddly, insanely compelling idea about the fluffy, rainbow Storian. I couldn't help myself, so I took her ideas and ran with them.

Here is the link to the original post.

@heyo-428 @cetastars @harmonyverendez Read this, if you’re still interested in the fluffy pen story!

Note:

I did toy around with the order of Rise’s series of events a little, and included elements of Fall. So, be warned: the continuity is by no means perfect, the tone is intended to be more comedic (and sometimes more modern?) than usual, and I wrote this more for the concept than the plot at first. You could consider it a loose chronological series of vignettes, if that’s easier to understand because it isn’t quite a full story. It cuts from scene to scene. Or, rather, it is a story with a lot of scene breaks. Also, this was kind of an impulse fic, so I didn't start with a plan until a little later, but I did edit.

⸻

When Rafal agreed to be named a School Master of the renowned School for Good and Evil, he hadn't expected to become a pet owner, or something of that ilk.

When he initially saw it... it was fluffy and rainbow. Oh, the indignity of it all, of his life. What had he agreed to?

He groaned. The Storian wouldn’t have been his first choice of godlike pens, but he supposed a magical, fluffy pen was better than no magical pen at all.

The Storian drew a heart on Rafal's hand. It was about the size of a coin.

He grimaced.

Why couldn't the pen have chosen a more tasteful mark? A crown, or an ace of spades perhaps. Even an abstract scribble would have been fine, preferable even.

When the Storian drew his brother's heart, Rhian had laughed at its tickle, and the Storian had taken his response as a sign that it was welcome to snuggle up with Rhian every night, beside him in bed like a beloved pet.

Rafal slept alone.

⸻

Rafal had lost all faith in the Storian.

The irritating pen knocked things from tables. It beat Rafal's dish-breaking record within a week. And, it mussed up his hair, and shed all over his robes, slacks, and jackets. If any comparison could be drawn, it was most like a recalcitrant cat, an everlasting thorn in his side.

He couldn't face his students covered in feathery scraps of rainbow fur! The Nevers would ridicule him.

Invest in a lint brush, he noted to himself. That would settle it.

And shave that pen to boot. Not that he could. The little devil was fast, and would punish him for high treason.

Rhian wouldn't mind, he told himself. But, his brother loved that worthless thing. Of course he would mind. The Storian was practically Rhian's child. Rhian's baby talk drove Rafal up the wall. He was so mawkish and cuddly with it, as if it weren't already a combination dust magnet and feather duster that aggravated allergies.

No way would anyone ever see him petting the thing. It was an object, not even a living object, just unusually sentient. It was a patently false imitation of a real animal.

Rafal’s Stymphs were far superior to the pen, and they obeyed him and his commands as any good pets ought to do. Though, he considered the Stymphs more akin to his faithful soldiers, pledged to serve his eternal cause of Evil than well… pets, or whatever the pen was to Rhian.

⸻

Lately, Rhian was becoming obsessed with the Storian, and it worried Rafal.

At least he wouldn't have to worry about Rhian getting attached, only to catch it belly-up, and be forced to fly to the nearest pet store and cosmetic apothecary to replace it with a magic-surgery-modified duplicate before Rhian saw. Getting the last fish to look identical had been one hell of a sleepless night he’d spent in a race to preserve Rhian’s feelings. He’d stayed up to ensure the new pet was in place, and had to bury the old one at the crack of dawn while Rhian was still asleep.

But, with a pen, that couldn't happen. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, he knew the worst had happened far too many times. Rhian tended to kill things with too much love. It was absolutely sickening. He'd overfed goldfish in the past, almost the Wish Fish too, if Rafal hadn't put an immediate stop to it, and he had overwatered various hydrophilic plants from humid, tropical climates.

Rhian didn't have the best track record when it came to pets. Or self-preservation for that matter. He’d struck up conversations with strangers left and right.

A pen could be good for him. It had no expiration date. It didn't even have a mortal life, so no matter how incompetent Rhian was, he couldn't kill it. No responsibility aside from keeping it entertained, no risk of accidentally killing it, something to distract him from Rafal's own wrongdoings. The pen could prove useful in that regard. Yes, he could live with it, he decided.

Then again, maybe the right question to ask was whether it had feelings. Could he insult the pen? And what would happen if he did? He was sure Rhian would be none too pleased. But what about the Storian itself?

⸻

Rafal eyed the heart on the back of his hand. It was glaringly obvious and far too… sentimental. He had to do something about it. Scrubbing vigorously hadn't worked. He'd only succeeded in scrubbing the skin of his hand red, raw, and dry.

Rhian had haughtily told him he needed moisturizer.

Rafal snapped back that he knew. “Go bother someone else with your fussiness, Rhian!”

In the end, he'd bought black, supple, leather gloves, fitting of his look. They molded to his skin perfectly, and they didn't clash with his typical mode of dress.

Rhian accused him of being needlessly "edgy." Well, there was just no satisfying him, was there?

But, Rhian was a squeamish fussbudget, and his opinion held no weight here. So, Rafal wore the gloves. And soon, the years turned to decades, decades turned into a century, and the Woods kept living.

⸻

Rafal wore his gloves every day without fail—until he needed the additional dexterity that could only be afforded by flesh and bone fingers while drowning in the sea amid Night Crawlers.

He tore off the gloves, and in his haste, flashed the rainbow-inked heart at James, James who began to snicker at the thing like it was the most contemptible mark in the world.

"Thought you were Evil. Eh, Master?" James taunted.

"Shut up. It's-it's Rhian’s,” Rafal lied, stuttering through his embarrassment. No need to explain a fluffy pen of all things to James. He'd only think Rafal a dolt.

The heart was so cloyingly sweet, but it still made him feel vulnerable when it was seen, out in the open.

Astonishingly, James’ previously murderous expression softened and its matching intent evaporated. "Guess you wear your heart on your sleeve then. Like the Good do, or as close to Good as you can get, huh? Wouldn't mind saving me then, wouldja?"

Rafal gave the heart a sidelong glance. “Fine,” he muttered unaffected with marked disdain.

In the end, neither of them made it to the underwater prison of Monrovia, which contained the infamous Saders, but no matter. They were both out alive, albeit drenched.

⸻

Suspended aloft, ever an eye, the pen bore witness to a stalemate between the School Master brothers and the Pirate Captain.

The Pirate Captain loped forward. “So, you've got a pen that draws maudlin hearts?” he drawled.

"Yes,” Rafal said through gritted teeth. The leather of his gloves was cracked and split by this point, and creaked when he held a staunch grip. He’d formed fists, but he held himself back. The man didn't deserve a blow to the jaw, yet.

Off to the side, James winced, and drew a great step back to distance himself from his sorcerer friend.

Ferret-boy lolloped into the fray. “Yer magical pen does what?” he piped up, as if he'd been deaf to the Pirate Captain's question.

Him on the other hand—he had it coming for him. Rafal bristled, clenching and unclenching his fist instinctually. His dispassionate gaze morphed into a glare.

“It be drawing that craven, girlish thing on ya hand? Gotta be stark raving mad fer that to ’appen,” Ferret-boy quipped again.

Rhian stiffened, face heating.

Rafal defended, “It's not stupid, fussy, or effeminate. Even if it is, it's my only tie to Rhian at the moment, and I, for one, would prefer to keep it, along with my immortality, if you'll excuse me, pests.” He nodded at James, and turned to leave.

The Pirate Captain lunged for the pen without warning.

The Storian darted away, answering with a sugary jingle. Then, it coiled like a spring, launched, and jabbed the Pirate Captain viciously in the chest.

"Oof," the bested Pirate Captain breathed, clutching his torso.

A true pity that it hadn’t drawn blood, Rafal carped internally.

Self-satisfied, the pen twirled in the air, and flew back to the brothers. It curled up in Rhian's waiting hands like an overgrown, weaselly, color-dyed rodent, its noodly form like a piece of rope gone limp.

Rhian headed back to the School, safely cradling the pen.

Rafal stayed back on the dock to deal with the pirates, and give James a proper send-off.

⸻

Rhian had never taken an interest in women’s undergarments until now, but he was desperate.

He had already sifted through the Beautification classroom’s storage, and had come up with nothing. So, now, he was knee-deep in Dean Mayberry’s dresser drawers that he’d pulled out entirely, and he found himself rifling through her delicates at an alarming rate.

He soon chanced upon what he was searching for, and fished out a pair of airy, white gloves trimmed in lace that she’d worn to a recent soirée. He pressed his lips together grimly. They would have to do. Hopefully, Rafal would be distracted anyway. His new attire could divert Rafal’s attention.

He reasoned to himself that a smudge meant nothing, and hummed to himself nervously. It couldn’t be covering up duplicity. That would be Evil.

He wasn’t Evil.

He buttoned the gauzy, eggshell white gloves up high with their glossy, pearl buttons. Then, he went on his usual rounds over the School grounds, pretending nothing was wrong.

Rhian should have known his brother would first set his eyes on his hands. His glove-covered hands.

⸻

As Rafal flew overhead, approaching the School's clearing, he roughly tugged on his gloves again. Then, he saw something had gone wrong as he glanced down at Rhian from afar.

Rhian clearly had a new, downy, swan-feather outfit, a cloak of pure, shining spun-gold, and something else. Something new. He was wearing dainty, white gloves.

Rafal caught sight of another, unsubtle change through the tower window. He was horrified to find that Rhian had apparently commissioned a golden cage for the Storian while he was gone.

Seemingly, Rhian now tended to it even more regularly, as if he were sure it would grant him a favor, like a genie or a magical creature of that sort would, once caught and released for a wish in exchange for its freedom.

How childish could his brother get?

The moment Rafal's boots hit the windowsill, he peeled off his leather gloves, and noticed that for once, from just minimal friction, the interference of the glove’s coarse fibers, the seawater and his sweat, his heart had smeared.

His heart looked more scrawled than deftly inked. It was a messy blur of rainbow splotches on his pale skin. It didn’t look right, smeared like a stain, an iridescent oil spill, formless and hazy, like liquified beetle wings and mercury.

It was supposed to be as permanent a mark as one from a branding iron. It was a fixed tattoo! It couldn't just be wiped clean away!

Rafal blinked, rubbing at his eyes, trying to clear his tainted vision.

The smudge stubbornly remained.

Something had gone wrong while he was gone. Something sinister.

Rafal stepped into the tower chamber, legging it over the windowsill. He did not observe the cloaked, vampiric man fleeing the scene, memento mori etched on his skin.

Rafal reasoned these circumstances out to himself slowly: Rhian had probably figured that because Rafal never took off his gloves, except in the dark, at night, to sleep, that he'd never notice anything was amiss. But something was. Something grave enough to compel Rhian to cover it up, to erase his mistake.

Their bond had been besmirched by something. By someone. A stranger Rhian had opened his heart to. But was their bond broken?

The implications sank in. If it was broken, he could now be killed.

Rhian flung open the door, and greeted Rafal with cheer, yet he seemed wary.

Uncharacteristically, Rafal reached out to Rhian for a hug, and used the rare moment of closeness to yank Rhian's glove off.

The seams burst with the amount of force he applied and the pearl buttons popped off, catapulted in all directions, clattering to the floor, bouncing and rolling between the stone tiles into every last crack and crevice.

Rhian gasped and tried to shove his hand into a pocket.

Rafal trapped him by the wrist.

Beheld, as sure as day, was a bloodred V slashed in ink, like a scar of rouge in Rhian’s disfigured, melted, rainbow heart stamped around it.

Rhian's hand turned gelid, clammy, and slick in Rafal’s grip.

Someone had replaced him, Rafal concluded, without a word.

Rhian did not even try to offer excuses. It would be too humiliating to explain how he’d let Vulcan violate him during one of their dinners. He blushed at the candlelit memory.

Rafal dropped Rhian’s wrist. “Woe are we,” he sniped bitterly.

Rhian’s eyes welled with tears, but Rafal wouldn’t look at him.

Rafal couldn’t look at Rhian.

In fact, both brothers had fallen silent as the pen scratched away, swishing back and forth like a pendulum.

Rafal glared at the fluffy pen that shivered and flounced and puffed itself up like a fox's tail in the breeze. From across the room he could sense the pen's swift movements as it whisked through the air.

Wisps of shed fluff floated in the sunlight filtering through the silver curtains in spotlit shafts.

He felt the swoosh of the pen's fluff.

It twitched like it was winking at him, and slunk towards his legs like a cat. The pen twined itself around his legs in greeting. For several rounds, it wound itself around him.

He stood uncomprehendingly until his rage got the best of him. He extricated himself from the pen, and couldn’t bring himself to care about brushing the fluff from his slacks.

Rafal jumped out the window, to fly off, and figure things out for himself. The crisp air stroked his bare hands for once, and the sharp wind ripped away the excess fluff, battering his clothes and rippling cloak.

Now, he had to keep his heart in sight at all times, until he reversed this curse. No matter if anyone thought anything while his heart was exposed. They could all go to Hell for all he cared. He was doing this for Rhian.

And to save his own lost heart as well.

⸻

He flew away at full throttle, landed, and set off at a brisk pace, slamming into a boy with golden curls, grey eyes, and a cherub-like face. The exact sort of fellow Rhian would crush on!

“Who are you? Are you the V?” Rafal demanded.

The boy looked confused, and narrowed his eyes, fuming. “Name's Midas," he gruffed, putting up a front. “Who're you?” He stabbed a finger at Rafal's chest.

“Your worst fears,” threatened Rafal placidly.

Midas’ eyes widened.

Rafal shot back up the silver tower, and hurtled through the window, Midas in tow, grasped in his iron grip over the starchy fabric of the boy’s shirt. Coolly, he tossed aside a squirming Midas, who scudded across the room, aided by his sorcery, and left the boy for a moment, vowing to deal with him later.

He turned to Rhian, who stood agape, next.

⸻

Rafal marched deeper into the stone chamber, snatched Rhian's wrist, and dangled his limp hand in front of their faces. “What's this?” he said quietly, menacingly, pressing down on Rhian’s pulse.

He dragged Rhian up to the Storian, and released him.

Rhian stumbled forward, only managing to stay upright with Rafal’s firm hold on his shoulder.

“WHAT'S THIS?” Rafal shouted at the trembling pen, now thrusting his own outstretched, ink-stained hand at the pen.

The Storian, previously backed up against a bookcase, leapt into its cage, and rattled around. It cowered at the back of the cage, against the golden bars.

“This can't be what I think it is. I love him,” Rafal assured the pen feverishly. He sank to his knees in desperation, casting his gaze up at the pen.

Rhian dropped to the floor with him, and looked pleadingly at his pet.

Long and sinuous, the pen performed a twist in midair with a light jingle, as if considering the chastened School Masters before it, contemplating their tale. It moved with broad brushstrokes, white streaks of erasure, fine, gossamer threads spinning through the air, weaving around the brothers’ forearms.

The hearts vanished off their hands.

Rafal flinched, and shielded Rhian.

Rhian quivered, his heart throbbing against Rafal's own pounding rib cage. He gripped Rafal's upper arms, bracing himself behind his brother for the worst, for his precious pet to turn on him.

Yet the pen forgave.

It hovered over their hands, and drew new hearts, the same as it had done a century before.

⸻

Note:

I'd love to know your reactions and thoughts, or if anyone laughed. What specific parts got a rise out of anyone? Did I manage to shock anyone, with anything? I’d love to know what. Feel free to comment anything and ask any questions if there’s confusion.

I hope everything’s up to par. Did anything (specific or not) feel out of character? I didn’t check the books, and I sort of forgot what Hook’s, the Pirate Captain’s, and Midas’ dialogue sound like. If anyone catches any inaccuracies, feel free to let me know. Also, if there's anything else wrong grammatically, or in terms of clarity, please tell me.

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jh0721 · 11 months

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1969 AC Frua 428

#ac frua #ac automobile

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gameraboy2 · 2 years

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Scowtown Woman by P. A. Hoover Ace D-428, 1960 Cover art by George Ziel

#scowtown woman #george ziel #1960 #1960s #vintage #pulp #pulp art #art #illustration #painting

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ariesgamesandminis · 3 months

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Restocks are in from Iron Wind Metals for BattleTech miniatures!

20-200 Griffin GRF-6S 20-203 Solitaire 20-224 Shadow Hawk IIC 4 20-235 Partisan Heavy Tank 20-248 Donar Assault Helicoptor 20-255 Heimdall Monitor Tank 20-258 Scimitar Medium Hover Tank (2) 20-284 Ripper VTOL 20-288 Enyo Strike Tank (2) 20-296 Shoden Assaunt Vehicle (Standard) 20-309 Blizzard Hover Transport (Standard) (2) 20-330 Burke Tank 20-419 Battle Hawk BH-K305 20-428 Asshur Artillery Spotter (2) 20-435 Hellstar 20-493 Bear Cub 20-5005 Orion ON1-K (with Kerensky) 20-5008 Flamberge Prime 20-5009 Quasit QUA-51M MilitiaMech 20-5019 Kestrel VTOL 20-5042 Ebony MEB-9 / MEB-10 20-5062 Morrigan 20-5105 Cardinal Transport VTOL 20-5169 Shadow Hawk SHD-2Hb 20-5183 Locust LCT-1V 20-5189 Catapult CPLT-C3 / C5 20-5216 Marauder MAD-3R / 5M 20-623 SRM Carrier (2) 20-639 Kanga Medium Hovertank (2) 20-685 Bandit Hovercraft (2) 20-699 Emperor EMP-6A 20-733 Oro Heavy Tank (Standard) (2) 20-749 Goblin Infantry Support Vehicle (2) 20-762 Pillager PLG-3Z 20-767 Talon TLN-5W 20-786 Hachiman Fire Support (Standard) (2) 20-800 Hex Bases (4) 20-861 JagerMech JM6-S 20-873 Spider SDR-5V 20-891 Wolfhound WLF-1 20-909 Dragon Fire DGR-3F 20-930 Catapult CPLT-C4 20-9122 Battleforce Hex Base 99-201 Large Flat Top Hex Base #1 99-202 Large Flat Top Hex Base #2 99-203 Extra Large Flat Top Hex Base AC-005 Large Space Base BT-004 Afreet Battle Armor BT-008 Void Battle Armor BT-030 Sylph Battle Armor BT-031 Infiltrator MK 2 BT-062 Hover Bike BT-063 Track Bike BT-066 Scout ATV BT-133 Corona Battle Armor BT-134 Gray Death Legion Battle Armor BT-188 Nighthawk Battle Armor BT-189 Kobold Battle Armor BT-202 Rogue Bear Heavy Battle Armor BT-224 Heavy Jump Infantry BT-226 Fast Recon BT-227 Thunderbird Battle Armor BT-231 Ironhold Battle Armor BT-237 Recon Infantry BT-240 SpecOps Paratrooper BT-244 Heavy Infantry - Standing BT-245 Heavy Infantry - Firing BT-321 Hover APC BT-333 Phoenix Hawk LAM MK I PHX-HK1 (Fighter) BT-370 Kurita Infantry (3) BT-371 Davion Infantry (3) BT-372 Savannah Master Hovercraft BT-381 Basic Inner Sphere Battle Armor (3) BT-382 Kanazuchi Battle Armor BT-384 Achileus Battle Armor (3) BT-388 Salamander Battle Armor (3) BT-390 Fa-Shih Battle Armor (3) BT-391 Fenrir Battle Armor (1) BT-393 Kage Battle Armor Squad (4) BT-435 Shen Long Battle Armor (3) BT-436 Buraq (Standard) Battle Armor BT-463 War Crow A FT-020 Avar Mech Scale Fighter FT-028 Sulla Mech Scale Fighter OP-118 Marauder MAD-3D, 5S, and 5T Gun Sprue 20-5183D Locust LCT-1V Arm and CT Med Laser Sprue 20-758WPS Cauldron-Born (Omni) Weapons 20-814MSA Zeus Missile Arm

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daddyhausen · 2 years

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• kinktober — day twenty six : striptease — dax harwood •

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ masterlists } | { kinktober 2022 }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, striptease, riding, male + female orgasm, nipple play, biting, praise, rough sex, vaginal sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, squirting, internal cumshot, vaginal creampie

{ word count } — 428

{ pairing } — fem!reader x dax harwood

{ genre } — smut

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ taglist } — @stxrrlightwrites13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @legit9thlunaticwarrior @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @damnnhausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @baybay-boom

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

“you’re home early”

you mentioned to your husband as he stood in the doorway, wide eyed, mouth agape

his eyes scanned your frame for a moment

trying to desperately recount his words

“and you’re…” he stammered over his words

“…in you’re delicates”

he cocked an eyebrow for a moment, mentioning to the blush pink lingerie that adorned your figure

the lace was practically seethrough, decorated with small embroided flowers

it left very little to the imagination

and to that of your husbands that is for sure

“well, i wanted to suprise you”

you mewled seductively, wrapping your arms lightly around his neck

it his not take long for his arms to fall to your hips

slowly reaching down to squeeze your plump ass

“it surely is a suprise”

he leaned down to kiss you rather feverishly before you stepped away

“easy cowboy. you still haven’t received your suprise”

“what could possibly suprise me more than this?” he quipped sarcastically

“you’ll see” you spoke with a wink, taking his hand and leading him to the couch

he sat across from you, still wide eyed as you began to sway your hips to a non existent beat

slowly you unclasped your bra

revealing your beautiful breasts to your husbands gaze

throwing the fabric in his direction

he muttered a string of curses under his breath

feeling himself grow hard in his jeans

you face away from him, bending over as you pried your panties down

your pretty cunt glistening with your sweetness

you made your way towards him

having noticed he had already freed his cock

beginning to stroke himself

you gave him an amused smirk

taking a seat on his lap, sinking down on his cock

“fuck…” you groaned having missed the feeling of his size

his hands gripped your ass, gaining extra leverage as he smaller up into you,

your tight cunt clenched around his thick cock

feeling him stretch you with ease

“babygirl…you feel so fucking good”

his lips wrapped around your perky nipple

taking the sensitive bulb between his teeth, tugging softly

your hips slammed down onto his

feeling the arousal burn in your stomach

“fuckfuck! i’m cumming-“ you released around his size

he adored the way your cunt clenched around him

“me too, babygirl”

he threw his head back as your sweetness gushed around his length

his seed filled your void

dripping out of your cunt as he continued to slam up into you

his movements came to a halt, holding you tight as you collapsed onto his chest

“fuck, babygirl. please welcome me home like that more often”

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

#{ my fics : 🤍 }#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #dax harwood #dax harwood x reader #dax harwood imagine #dax harwood smut #aew #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut #aew wrestling #aew fanfiction #aew imagine #aew x reader #aew smut

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triumphonlyfan · 1 year

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AC 428 coupé fastback

#ac cars

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66-bl1tz-kr13g-fr1tz · 2 months

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//The Wire//1830Z February 26, 2024//

//ROUTINE//

//BLUF: NORWEGIAN CRUISE SHIP QUARANTINED DUE TO CHOLERA OUTBREAK.//

-----BEGIN TEARLINE-----

-International Events-

Mauritius: A Norwegian cruise ship has been quarantined in the Port of Mauritius following a cholera outbreak onboard the vessel. The M/V NORWEGIAN DAWN has been quarantined in port until further notice. Though the origin of the outbreak is unknown at this time, several of the passengers reporting illness traveled to South Africa earlier this month.

Red Sea/HOA: Several telecom providers have begun to report issues regarding undersea communications cables in the Red Sea. As of this report, only single-source reporting is available, which suggests that a total of four cables have been impacted over the past few months. AC: As cable disruptions are extremely common due to natural seismic events on the seafloor, the timing of such outages is critical. So far, the Jerusalem Post is the only media outlet reporting on this issue, which (aside from being a highly questionable source in its own right), did not indicate whether or not this is a new issue, or a culmination of incidents since the start of the Red Sea Crisis.

Houthi forces have made direct threats to sever these communications cables, however it is not clear as to if they are actually capable of tampering with or targeting undersea cables in the Red Sea. Additionally, in a time when covert operations and false-flag events have become extremely common, judgement is probably best reserved for when more information becomes public. On the other hand, due to the nature of the incident, independent investigation is not likely.

-Homefront-

Washington D.C. – Yesterday a uniformed active duty Air Force service member self-immolated outside the Israeli embassy in a self-described act of protest in support of Palestine. The service member, later identified as Aaron Bushnell, later died at a local hospital. No information regarding his rank or unit has been confirmed by defense officials yet.

In the western United States, no new information has been released regarding the recent unidentified high-altitude balloon incident. Pentagon officials continue to assess that the balloon was “likely” a civilian craft, but zero evidence has been provided to back up these claims, whereas the culmination of information as released so far indicates the contrary. So far, no one has come forward to claim the balloon or its payload.

On the economic front, over the past few weeks financial observers have noticed strategic financial moves among many elites. JPMorgan CEO Jamie Dillon dumped $150 million in JPM stock last week, his largest sell-off of his own company’s stock to date. Jeff Bezos has sold $8.5 billion of his Amazon portfolio, and Mark Zuckerberg has sold $428 million of his Meta holdings. In 2023 Q4, Bill Gates sold off 65% of his entire financial portfolio, worth approximately $80 billion. The Walton family also sold $4.5 billion of their Walmart holdings after the closing bell on Friday.

-----END TEARLINE-----

Analyst Comments: No financial expertise is needed to assess the strategic impacts of billionaires dumping significant investments all within a few weeks of each other. On the other hand, the field of economics is more complicated than a single soundbite; For instance, Bill Gate’s asset sell-off could be largely restructuring and consolidation, not necessarily a “dump”. However, these financial moves are an indicator of something; figuring out the exact details of which will largely be speculative.

Analyst: S2A1

//END REPORT//

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