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3ndoftheline · 7 years

Text

Savior

Bucky x OFC

Summary: Breaking hearts and being controlled by pens - all in a days work.

Warnings: language, blood is mentioned, possibly confusing greek dialects??

Author’s note: it’s the first day of march and ya girl is coming at you with a brand new installment of Savior!! this part kind of goes into depth of the languages the Greeks used back in ancient times. again, i’d like to point out that i am not an expert in Greek mythology or the linguistics of the Greek language. The information in here is from research on the internet. If there are any questions or something is wrong, please let me know! as usual, feeback is welcomed and i hope you all enjoy xx

Sophia vs The Real World

Avengers Facility: Upstate New York

Sleep, what an odd word.

I almost laughed out loud when Bucky told me to go to sleep. It was cute that he was making sure that I got enough rest, it really was. If the thought wasn’t so hilarious I probably would’ve melted at how adorable it was.

I didn’t sleep. In fact, I couldn’t sleep. I could rest, I suppose, but sleep? And dream? Not a chance.

I didn’t want to tell Bucky that, or even try to explain to him how the hell that worked because even I wasn’t totally sure. Plus, I had dropped enough metaphorical bombs on him for the time-being. I figured he deserved a break.

I hadn’t meant to tell him about Zolo, or about anything regarding his past. It was a bit fucked up that I had been there for a good majority of his life as the Winter Solider. It wasn’t even a little bit, actually, it was completely fucked up.

But Bucky had practically begged me to tell him. It was his life, a part of his life he wanted to forget but also a huge missing piece that he was desperately trying to figure out. His eyes had been my undoing. Big, blue and desperate as he stared at me, it was like puppy dog eyes but a 1000 times more potent.

I could feel the warmth of his skin against my cheek still, and on my hands I could feel the warmth and the cold his hands provided. I found myself tracing the back of my palm, imagining what it would like to be that warm all the time.

I was so consumed in my own thoughts that I didn’t hear the door open as my favorite redhead walked in. “You’re awake.” I turned my head and had to keep myself from rolling my eyes as she approached the cell wall. She had breakfast in her hand and I was willing to bet money that there were potatoes on the plate.

She pressed a few buttons on the tablet in her other hand and a space in the wall appeared – just as it had been for the past three months – and she placed the plate on the little tray underneath the window.

“You should probably eat, it’s going to be a long day for you,” she suggested but she and I both knew I wouldn’t be touching that plate of food. Probably why she didn’t even give me a chance to take the food (not like I was going to) as she sighed heavily. Natasha tapped her tablet for a bit before the entire wall disappeared.

She then pulled out the weirdest contraption I’d ever seen until my brain caught up and realized that it was handcuffs for my hands and ankles but it was all connected with chains and various other buckles. It looked like a strait jacket but without the actual jacket material – just the buckles and straps.

She didn’t speak as she walked forward and locked the cuffs around my wrists, leaving now room for me to move. Every time I tried, I felt the bite of the metal dig into my skin. She didn’t angry as she clamped the ankle cuffs in place but she didn’t look apologetic either.

“C’mon, Tony wants to see you,” Natasha muttered. Normally, I wasn’t so dressed up when I went to go see Tony, but perhaps after my last little show and tell they decided to take precautions. Smart I thought to myself. Bucky’s face flashed in my mind, the twisted features when I said the same thing to him about the government. I had never seen him so angry before. In fact, I hadn’t seen him angry at all before that moment.

I followed her – well, more along the lines of shuffled since the chains only allowed me to move so far. I had to be careful with how long my strides were. I could easily break through the chains but I didn’t want to freak them out any more. I didn’t need another week and a half of isolation.

So, it was slow going but we finally made it to Tony’s lab. It was huge, spanning so large I couldn’t see the other side of it and it was filled with gadgets and toys, half-finished projects and coiled wires. Today, there was an audience. Wanda and Vision, the two little mind readers and the one who shot the arrows, I had no idea what his name was. Carl? Connor?

“Welcome back,” Tony announced as he emerged from behind a towering pile of metal. I gazed quizzically at him as he walked forward, his hand hidden behind his back. Gone was the snarky remark that begged to be thrown out as I watched his arm. Hm, definitely something. “Nat, uncuff her. The whole point of this is to give her more freedom, now you’re just suffocating her.”

Freedom? Now I was very curious. I tilted my head as Natasha unlocked the handcuffs, looking anything but pleased with the situation as she narrowed her eyes menacingly at me. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I dropped my hands to my sides, ignoring the pain that flared around my wrists.

“This wasn’t my idea,” Tony seemed to defend himself. From what, I wasn’t sure. “Vision and Wanda seem to think this will help, but if it were up to me you would’ve been in an entirely different situation.”

Like in the hands of the government, I thought to myself. Bucky would never allow it I wanted to gloat, to brag, and to shove it in his face. But I knew that would do nothing aside from get Bucky in trouble. Because I was 99.9% sure his little late night excursions would not be approved of if anyone knew.

I was still confused by Tony’s words until his hand revealed itself and I saw a massive syringe clutched in his hand, his thumb already hooked through the hole. Dark green liquid filled the canister and it seemed to be moving, flickering beneath the bulbs.

“Microchip,” Tony explained, seeming immensely pleased with himself. I had never seen one in liquid form before, and my interest piqued tenfold. He nodded to my arm and I stretched it out, suffering from déjà vu as I remembered all the times in his lab when we did this. Every day. Same tests. Same results. At least today it was a bit of a change.

Tony began explaining what the microchip did or more aptly what it was supposed to do. As I stared at the liquid tracking device, I knew it wouldn’t work. Even though Tony gloated about how he had made it fit to track a super-soldier, I knew it still wouldn’t suffice. I wasn’t a super-soldier or Vision. I was something different.

Give me something, I heard Bucky plead in my mind. I knew what he had really meant. Talk to the others, tell them something. I didn’t want to. In reality, I really had nothing to say. I couldn’t give them the answers they wanted. I didn’t have the answers they all seemed to think I had magically stowed away in my inner garden of knowledge.

But I realized now, I could tell Tony the microchip wouldn’t work. A part of me – a very large part of me didn’t want to tell him. Being tracked wasn’t exactly something I looked forward to. Having my every move monitored definitely was a giant pain in the ass and made me feel like a child that was sent to its room, confined to a single space. So, really, I could very easily not tell Tony about the chip and go on my merry way and not have anything to worry about.

Yet, all I saw was Bucky’s anguished face. The normally sky blue irises had darkened to a navy blue and I saw true fear in his eyes. The prospect of me going to the government scared him. I could see it, even though I knew he’d deny it the second I ever mentioned it. He wanted me here, at the tower. But in order for me to stay, I had to speak. And while I was very content with keeping my pretty little mouth shut and remaining a mystery, all I heard Bucky’s pleading voice and something twisted in my chest. It was all I needed before I said: “It won’t work.” Oh, here we go. Tony jerked back and glared at me, his face affronted.

“Excuse me?” He looked like I had punched him in the gut and told him the world was ending all in the same second. I sighed and leaned against the table. This is for you I thought to Bucky and made a mental note to myself to remind him of that next time I saw him.

“The microchip, it won’t work. It’ll dissolve in my blood the second you insert it. You’ll never track me with that.”

“This chip does not just dissolve,” he hissed. “It’s not like some…tablet that disintegrates in water. This is top of the line, brand new technology that was imported straight from Wakanda and–”

“I don’t care where it came from, it won’t work,” I told him, trying to keep my frustration at bay. It was like he refused to believe I was different, yet the whole reason why I was here was because I was different.

Tony began to launch into another tirade that I absolutely had no care for. Before he could react I snatched the syringe from his hand with blinding speed and turned to the petri dish that sat idly on the table beside me. I quickly dispensed the microchip into the clear dish and watched as the liquid bubbled and solidified into an unassuming tiny chip.

I turned to Natasha as I eyed the impressions of the knives and weapons that peeked through her clothing. “What metal are your knives made of?”

“Excuse me?”

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. “Your knives. What are they made of?”

“Adamantium and vibranium,” Natasha finally answered as she regarded me cautiously. I frowned. Neither of those would break my skin. They’d barely scratch me.

“Do you have any celestial bronze? Or imperial gold?” I turned to Tony who looked at me as if I had three heads. Of course he wouldn’t know what I was talking about. Celestial bronze and imperial gold were extremely rare, even rarer than vibranium and Adamantium. They only affected a small portion of the population and they were so rare they were considered a myth. Just like me.

“I mean, I’ve got regular gold princess. I got lots of that, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

This time, I did roll my eyes. “No, too weak,” I muttered as I glanced around the lab. There had to be something. But there wasn’t. There was lots of stuff that could hurt a lot of people, all types. But not me. I realized how pretentious that sounded, like I was something special and ethereal. Which wasn’t what I was going for at all. It’s just how I was made. Unfortunately, nothing I could do about that.

I knew I’d have to go straight from the Earth itself, something I didn’t really enjoy doing but desperate times called for desperate measures. This wasn’t exactly desperate but in order to ensure that I wasn’t totally insane, it was desperate enough.

“Do those windows open?” I asked Tony, nodding towards the large bay windows.

He stared at me, completely mystified. He nodded though and the Robin Hood turned to open one of them. I walked towards the window and took a deep breath, smelling the fresh air. The sun was warm and welcoming and I watched as a little blue jay fluttered onto the window sill. It saw me and ruffled its feathers proudly and sang a stunning tune. I smiled as it hopped around, obviously proud of itself. I held my finger out and the bird completely bypassed my crooked finger and flew to my shoulder, nestling itself into the junction of my neck and shoulder. I let him stay there as I leaned my head out of the window.

I closed my eyes and focused my mind on the mines on Olympus. Soon, I could smell the musty Earth and the faint trickle of water and the stifling smoke from the forges. In my mind, I was there, with a pick axe over my shoulder and my skin black from grime and soot. My eyes fixated on a tiny pebble that was as black as the rock around it. As I walked closer, I could feel the power that radiated from the tiny circle. My hands reached out and I brushed off the dirt and found a dull piece of celestial bronze, humming with energy and practically begging to become a part of another piece of weaponry. I pressed the pebble into my palm and when I opened my eyes again my hand was clenched into a fist and I could feel the nugget of bronze warming against my skin.

I walked back to the table, ignoring the gaping stares of those around me. I pressed harder on the bronze and felt the pebble shape into a thin stick. I quickly held the piece of bronze in my hand and pinched the tip off, revealing a sharp edge. This is gonna have to do. If they thought I was crazy before…

With a sigh, I rolled my shoulders and pressed the sharp front against my palm and dragged an opening against my once untouched skin. Immediately, golden ichor – the blood of the gods – flowed from the cut and spilled into my palm. I dipped my hand forward and watched as four droplets fell against the microchip. Almost instantly, it folded in on itself like it was trying to become smaller. Smoke curled from the chip as my blood bubbled and collected around the chip like an angry, golden cloud. Soon, all that was left was a tiny puddle of my blood. The microchip was gone.

I dropped the celestial bronze and it melted into the worktable as the cut on my hand healed within seconds. I turned my head to Tony who looked about two seconds away from passing out or suffering from a stroke.

“See?” I nodded towards the now smoking petri dish. “Your microchip didn’t stand a chance.”

“How?” Was all he managed to say and I was surprised that it was slightly coherent.

I shrugged. “Who I am, chemical makeup. I dunno it’s just how it is.”

“But…when I ran those tests, all of that…why did I get results?”

“You didn’t.” I shrugged again. “They came back normal or inconclusive. Your systems identify unknown substances but unnatural substances. They aren’t equipped to handle that sort of information or results, so they just revert to normal or inconclusive.”

Tony blinked as he stared at me and he suddenly laughed, short and clipped and stressed. “I can’t…we’re going to talk about this later.” He motioned between the two of us. “This conversation is far from over.��

I wanted to laugh but I managed to hide it in a form of a smile. “Not much else to say.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I always have something to say.” He flashed me a lopsided grin and I couldn’t tell if I should feel creeped out or smile in return. “But, this has gone on for too long. We have a team meeting in five minutes and since I can’t track you, you’re coming with us.”

I frowned, having no interest in showing up to a meeting and it seemed like most of the room agreed with me but Tony didn’t give anyone a chance to protest. He strode straight to the door and didn’t wait for anyone to follow, we just did.

I was behind Tony and Natasha and the guy – gods what was his name? – walked behind me at such a close range I could feel their breath on my neck.

We walked through different hallways and doorways and I honestly had no idea where the hell we were until Tony stopped in front of a mirrored door which was extremely unsettling when I realized that the whole wall was actually a mirror. How narcissistic did you have to be to have a whole wall of mirrors in your place? Apparently, Tony Stark was narcissistic enough to find it necessary.

Tony swung the door open and I had to lurch forward to grab the handle as it threatened to swing shut. Rolling my eyes, I pushed open the door and stepped inside.

There was a long oak table that spanned across the room and fifteen cushioned leather chairs surrounded the table. Four of them were occupied with Steve, Sam, a guy whom I didn’t recognize, and Bucky.

But what caught my eye were the walls. They weren’t mirrors on the inside. They were holographic screens, depicting different events across the globe. Fires burned in California, buildings rose in Dubai, streets swelled with people in Tokyo and caution tape crisscrossed behind a news reporter in Toronto. Every major city was broadcasted on the screens and it seemed to be scanning for major news that was shown on the main screen at the north wall of the room.

“Scott, nice of you to join us,” Robin Hood shouted from behind me and I flinched at the sudden noise. The man whom I hadn’t recognized – Scott – looked up and grinned with a sort of boyish charm that made him look about five years younger.

“Clint, it’s good to see you buddy,” Scott bypassed the outstretched hand and went straight for a smothering hug. Clint! That was his name. I knew it started with a C.

The others breezed by me and I cautiously hung in the back as I watched everyone said their greetings and took their seats. I watched as Tony stood at the head of the table, his eyes flashed to me every few seconds as he spoke to Natasha.

“C’mon,” a thick voice said beside me and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned and saw it was the other red-head (why were all the girls redheads here? I felt oddly out of place), Wanda. She smiled kindly and for once I didn’t feel this insistent prodding at the base of my skull. She wasn’t trying to poke around in my head for once. “You can sit next to me.”

I narrowed my eyes skeptically at her, wondering if the seat she pointed to was booby trapped or something. “Are you gonna try to scrounge through my head again or are you over your little scavenger hunt?”

She smiled yet she visibly flinched and I suddenly felt a bit guilty. She shrugged apologetically. “I don’t know. I might keep looking, I sort of like looking at all the dogs you send my way.”

I couldn’t fight off the smile that twitched at the corner of my lips. She winked playfully then sat down and gave me a pointed look. After a second of hesitation I sat next to her and folded my hands in my lap as the table fell quiet.

“Well, glad you could all make it,” Tony began and I wanted to scoff at him but I kept my mouth shut. Everyone shifted in their seats and I allowed my gaze to lazily flicker over everyone. Natasha and Clint were muttering about something and their eyes kept glancing over at me then skittering away whenever I caught their stare. I fought off the urge to roll my eyes. Steve was listening attentively to Tony while Bucky sat beside him and looked enthralled with the pen that flipped between his fingers. I watched, mesmerized as the pen rolled effortlessly until suddenly the tip of the pen stopped and pointed right at me.

My breath froze in my chest as I looked up and was met with silver irises that danced with quiet amusement, hidden behind a sheet of ice. I raised my eyebrow and his right eye dropped in a discreet wink that was only meant for me. I quickly tore my eyes away and tried to ignore the warm heat that spread from my stomach to the top of my head. Gods I needed to relax. It was literally just a wink. It wasn’t like he proclaimed his love to me. I shook my head angrily trying to clear my head.

I turned my attention back to Tony and my breath froze in my chest for an entirely different reason. The north wall screen had changed to a bunch of documents and all of the lettering had black lines through them. But I didn’t care about the black lines. What I cared about were the words that weren’t blacked out.

They were in Ancient Greek.

“These are the files that we were able to download at the base in the Katun Mountains,” Tony claimed as he motioned to the screen. “As you can see, pretty useless.”

“What the hell are those words? What language is that?” Clint pointed to the Ancient Greek lettering as his brow furrowed.

“No idea,” Tony shrugged. “FRIDAY can’t decode it. It doesn’t register as a dialect. It might be a form of code that Hydra has created that we just haven’t been able to crack yet.”

“What about the redaction lines?” Natasha tilted her chin to the thick black lines that blocked out most of the information. “Can you remove them?”

Tony shook his head and his lips twisted in irritation. “They aren’t normal redaction lines. There’s code embedded in the lines. FRIDAY is still trying to decode them but everything she throws at it gets rejected or destroyed. Think you’ve got some contacts that can help?”

Natasha frowned as she stared at the documents. “I’ll see. I’ve never heard of redaction lines being encoded, but maybe someone else has.” She stood up and walked gracefully out of the room while tapping on her cell phone.

Tony turned his hard gaze to me as his eyes narrowed. I immediately tensed and braced myself for whatever he was about to throw at me. “Since you’re our resident expert on Hydra…you have any idea what any of this means?”

I ground my teeth together as I struggled to keep my face impassive. Resident expert on Hydra, who the hell told them I was the encyclopedia for all things Hydra? Whoever it was I hoped they stayed out of sight because I was going to kill them next time I saw them.

I sat back and drew patterns against my legs as I looked away from Tony. My eyes fell on the pen that was trapped in Bucky’s hand. The tip was pointed to me – again – as if to say your time to shine. I flicked my eyes up and saw Bucky staring at me. His eyes held nothing but his eyebrow curved up.

Give me something.

I glanced down at the pen again and found myself shifting in my seat. Like I was intimidated by a fucking pen. But the more I stared at the tip, the more restless I got. Could you believe it? The tip of a pen was slowly convincing me to speak. I was going crazy, I had to be. It was the only logical explanation.

I clenched my jaw and tore my eyes away and looked at Tony who was staring at me expectantly. Actually, so was everyone else. I released a tiny sigh and looked at the Greek lettering.

“The words are Ancient Greek,” I finally said and tried to ignore the various looks of shock on everyone’s faces. I felt like I was the main act in the circus. The main freak in a group of freaks.

“Uh, not to sound like an asshole,” Scott began saying. So you’re about to sound like an asshole I thought to myself, but kept my mouth shut. “But Ancient Greek is a pretty well-known dialect. I doubt that would stump FRIDAY.”

“It’s an ancient form of Greek known as Mycenaean Greek which was spoken by many Greeks in the sixteenth century up to the twelfth century,” I spoke calmly though I was a rage of annoyance inside.

“What are you our resident expert on Greece too?” Tony narrowed his eyes and this time I did roll my eyes.

“Well, Tony, some people are experts in more than one area. As a self-proclaimed genius, I would’ve thought you would’ve understood that. Perhaps you’re not as intelligent as you think you are.” His face blanched and then brightened to a lurid shade of red within a span of three seconds. Before he burst an artery, I continued. “As I was saying, Mycenaean Greek is the oldest form of Greek there is. It’s normally written in Linear B format–”

“What the hell is linear B?” Clint interrupted.

“A type of script. Like your alphabet is written in Latin script, the Mycenaean Greek is written in Linear B.”

“Linear B is an ancient form of script that was deciphered in 1953 by Michael Ventris. FRIDAY has the largest archive of ancient dialects as well as some alien languages. Deciphering Linear B should not give her any issues.” Vision spoke and I immediately decided I liked his voice. It was cool, calculated, measured. Like a robot. A refreshing change from the annoying chatter that came from Tony’s mouth.

“Because what’s on that board isn’t Linear B.” I pointed to the few letters that peeked out from the redaction lines. Each image could mean so many different things it was hard for me to understand. But the different option each image presented, I didn’t like where the context of the document was heading towards.

“Then what’s it written in?” It was the first time Steve had spoken during the entire meeting but he looked the most interested out of everyone.

“It’s written in Linear A.”

“Jesus Christ enough with the lines,” Clint muttered but I pointedly ignored him.

“Linear A is a dialect that Linear B is derived from,” I explained as carefully as I could. “Basically, Linear A is an unknown writing system that has never been deciphered. No AI in this world would be able to decipher it because there is no reference to go off of. It would be like trying to decipher a bunch of keyboard smashes. It’s impossible.”

“Then why can you understand it?” Sam asked. He didn’t look like he was accusing me of something – again, another refreshing moment – but he looked totally confused. I pressed my lips together as my chest tightened.

Give me something.

“Because I was alive when Linear A was used.”

“Um when was that, exactly?” Scott raised his hand and I had to resist the urge to call on him like a school teacher.

“2500 B.C.”

“How old are you?” Tony gaped at me.

“Didn’t your mother tell you, it’s rude to ask a woman what her age is?” I smiled sickly sweet at him. He scowled darkly as he pointed to the board.

“Can you understand this or not?”

I looked at the Greek symbols that jumped out at me. They seemed to swim before my eyes and I had to blink a few times just to focus. I frowned and shook my head. “No. Not without the rest of the documents. There is too much possibility with what the meanings of the symbols could be. It’ll be pointless to try and decipher when the meanings could change so easily.”

“Awesome. Just what we needed,” Tony muttered and silence fell over the table.

I sat back as my frown deepened. Linear A was an ancient, ancient form of writing that only a select few understood. It belonged to a civilization so old I had almost forgotten about it. But Mycenaean was associated with Linear B. Someone had to have found a way to take one language and manipulate it into a completely different writing system, one that only a small group understood much less could write. Whatever was on those documents, Hydra really really wanted no one knowing. And that’s what concerned me.

“Wanda, go show our Encyclopedia to her room.” Tony turned to me pointed a finger at me. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll have a tracker for you soon.” I just smiled at him and ignored his heavy scowl as Wanda stood beside me and motioned for me to follow her.

I happily scurried after her but not without a quick glance towards Bucky. His eyes were focused on Tony but the pen was pointed in my direction. Instead of it being still, he flicked it back and forth, as if it were waving to me.

“I’ve lost it,” I muttered to myself before I ducked out of the room and welcomed the blissful silence of the hallway. Wanda wove in and out of the corridors and I had to struggle to keep up. Soon, we arrived at the elevator and I breathed out a sigh of relief because it was something I knew. It was normal.

The doors slid open and I followed Wanda inside and immediately retracted my previous statement.

The elevator was anything but normal. There was a TV screen that took up the wall to the left of the doors and images flickered past, revealing what looked like a promotional video for SHIELD and the facility or whatever building we were in. There were no buttons on the right side of the doors, just a square glass door with a tiny screen to the side of it.

“It gives you food,” Wanda said as I peered at the glass. I whipped my head at her, shocked. She tapped the screen and wouldn’t you know it, there was a whole menu. Think of all your favorite fast food restaurants and then throw in a few random healthy options to feel good about yourself and then you had a perfect description of the menu.

“North campus, the fourteenth floor please,” Wanda spoke and I was about to ask who the hell she was talking to when a voice suddenly responded.

“Yes, Miss Maximoff. What music would you like to listen to?”

She glanced at me. “Uh, High School Musical,” I blurted out. Wanda stared at me as – wouldn’t you know it – Breaking Free filtered through the speakers. While my cheeks flushed I didn’t regret my request one bit.

“A classic,” she smiled wryly at me and I couldn’t help but grin in return.

“Will that be all Miss Maximoff?” The despondent voice spoke again.

“Yes, FRIDAY, thank you.”

“Vision requests you in his quarters once you have finished.”

“Thank you FRIDAY.” Wanda’s cheeks blushed a faint pink. Her and the robot? Interesting.

We rode in silence as Troy and Gabriella belted out probably the most iconic song in the entire High School Musical trilogy. I tried not to sing along because that would probably make the situation even more embarrassing, Wanda broke the silence. “What was it like?” She asked. “Back then,” she quickly clarified when I frowned in confusion.

I shrugged as I dug out memories that were buried in cobwebs. “Smelly. We hadn’t quite mastered the concept of hygiene at that point. And hot. Also hadn’t mastered the concept of air conditioning.”

Wanda laughed as the doors pinged and slid open to reveal a single black tiled hallway that had doors that lead to two different staircases. One side the wall was glass, the other was metal. Wanda led me to a metal door and motioned to the keypad beside the door.

“You can set up your own four digit code and scan your hand. All the security here is biometric. Tony will get you into the system later today.”

I had a strong feeling that I wouldn’t have much access but went to the keypad typed in a four number code. I followed the instructions and got my handprint locked into the door and soon the door slid open after a successful ping from the keypad.

“Every Avenger has their own floor in this building. I’m on the third floor, if you need anything.” Wanda’s smile was apologetic as she glanced into the room. “Sorry, you were such short notice so we didn’t really have another room for you.”

I shrugged and breezed by her before stopping in my tracks.

The room was huge. It was easily twice the size of my apartment. There was a small kitchenette to my right and another door to my left was propped open and I saw that it was the bathroom. The floor was covered in a beige carpet and the bed was low on the floor with a plain white duvet. What caught my attention was the span of wall in front of me. It was entirely made of glass and for a brief moment I wondered if that whole side of the building was glass, but I didn’t care. The view was beautiful like something straight out of a painting or a postcard.

“You can decorate it any way you like,” Wanda added. “It’s yours. You do with it what you’d like. Sorry it’s small, like I said. You were short notice.”

I nodded mutely. This was small? I would hate to see what their big would look like.

“Well, if you need anything. Floor three.” She smiled awkwardly before she shut the door behind her. Silence enveloped the room and I hadn’t realized how much I missed it. Today had been hectic, a huge contrast to the past however many months I was locked in my cell. I couldn’t tell if I liked the change or not.

I glanced around my room, mouth open at the sheer size. I cautiously stepped forward, towards the windows and saw two other hallways that led to who even knew where. I didn’t have the energy or the mental capacity to find out at that moment.

You can decorate it any way you like.

With a soft breath, I opened my palm and felt the power of the Earth tug at my chest. I closed my eyes, and let the Earth grow, filling my room with everything I wanted.

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doesitreallywork · 5 years

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It remains in this sight that suggests of water filtration and also cleansing are demanded. The item that I am mosting likely to evaluate, AquaStiq, has this as its purpose. Keep in mind that testimonials can just provide you a short suggestion of the item.

Concerning The Item: AquaStiq Filter

You may be questioning what this item that lugged such an unusual name is. A minimum of from the term Aqua, which is a prefix that suggests water, you understand it has something to do with water.

The gadget is a mobile water filter that you can take advantage of in filtering system water that might not look tidy. It has actually been developed with survivalists as well as campers in mind however I can additionally easily advise it to you as a vacationer.

The gadget has the capability of getting rid of 99.9999% of waterborne germs from water. Microorganisms such as salmonella as well as E.coli.

The item additionally has a case of having the ability to remove 99.9% of protozoan bloodsuckers that are waterborne such as Cryptosporidium as well as Giardia. The gadget likewise completes the decrease of turbidity via the filtering of bits to 0.2 microns as well as its weight is simply 2 ounces.

In addition, the item is devoid of BPA as well as its purification utilizes no chemical that is extreme, relocating components or perhaps batteries. The service life that is connected with it is additionally uncertain.

Somewhat the cases are instead ludicrous considering that water filteringed system by the tool is not water from every resource. As an example, it can not have the ability to remove chemicals such as fluoride, chlorine as well as hefty steels.

The gadget is much less of a filter however is even more of a cleanser. This suggests that just protozoa and also germs can be gotten rid of from the water utilizing it. Nevertheless, it still continues to be a helpful filter.

A filter that I would certainly advise to vacationers with whom water in a provided nation that they are taking a trip to can not be assured to be tidy.

Makers of AquaStiq

The water filter is a development of Survival Life. Upon development, the tool is offered on on-line systems via Clickbank. A provided tube has the capacity to filter a thousand litres of water that originates from mostly all resources.

Allow us take a terse check out the innovation that exists behind the tool to review its efficiency in filtering your water.

Attributes of AquaStiq

Prior to I reach describing simply exactly how the item functions, it is very important that a more detailed evaluation of numerous strong insurance claims is taken. You could additionally remain in question in relation to the cases that are created a tool as tiny as this.

9999% of waterborne microorganisms are eliminated consisting of salmonella and also E. coli.

99% of waterborne parasitical protozoans such as Cryptosporidium and also Giardia.

Weighes simply 2 ounces.

The service life is uncertain.

The function on the rack life is instead obscure. The durable of the gadget is feasible if you leave the gadget without utilizing on the rack. Nevertheless, acquiring of a brand-new tool will certainly be needed after around a thousand litres of water are filteringed system.

The system that is made use of in the procedure of filtering system will certainly shed its performance with the flow of time. It is difficult for you to purchase a filter for substitute objectives to stick on the gadget you are presently making use of.

A cool function with the gadget is the capacity of it to suggest whenever filtering system requires substitute. At such a time, the sucking of the straw will certainly quit immediately.

According to the description from the producer, if obtaining water with it comes to be an obstacle after that it is about time you toss it away as you obtain one more one. It would certainly have absolutely offered its objective already.

An additional essential keeping in mind factor is that the tool does not have some essential filters. Filter that limit its use idealness to just some resources of water.

Use of AquaStiq

Absolutely nothing can be extra uncomplicated than the use of this gadget. Right here are the 3 actions to the entire procedure that you call for to recognize;

Action 1: Remove the cap as well as area all-time low of the straw right into your resource of water drinking from mouth piece. In the circumstance where the water degree is as well reduced to be touched, a tube is linked to the tool as well as completion of the tube placed in the water.

Action 2: The filteringed system end is insert right into the water storage space system equally as a container or water bag.

Action 3: Make use of the tube as a link to the book bag, after that make use of water stress to filter the water.

The keynote is that the activity of drawing will certainly draw the water by means of the filters as well as right into the tool. You do not need to make use of any type of chemicals or pump.

Functioning of the Tool

Insurance claims are made by the supplier that this gadget in fact filterings system 99.9999% of microorganisms that are waterborne. One point that is not cleared up is simply exactly how the filtering of germs happens.

Final Verdict

AquaStiq is probably the globe’s most efficient, small and also reliable gadget when it pertains to water purification. This is a gadget that you can most absolutely count on to clean your water prior to making use of.

Pros

– The tool is used to you at a rate that is extremely pleasant to the pocket. At the rate of just $17.95 you can be able to obtain one such filter.

– The tool is extremely mobile. Therefore, you can be able to bring it with you to anywhere the water that you require to filter lies.

– It has the capability to eliminate waterborne protozoan bloodsuckers and also waterborne germs from water. If such exist in your alcohol consumption water, they can cause illness.

– The business that lags the manufacture of the gadget is one that has actually had the ability to create a range of various other survival items. Products that have really various favorable testimonials. Because of this you can be ensured that this is not a fraud. It is mosting likely to live to your assumptions equally as the others have actually shown to do.

– The created is offered for buying with a main online system. Thus the chanced of you being scammed by duplicate items is substantially decreased.

– Simpleness. When it concerns this gadget, use in extremely basic as well as is achieved in simply a collection of 3 actions. You do not call for any type of trembling, batteries or pumps whatsoever.

Cons

– The gadget is unable to remove all pollutants that might exist in steels. It does not have the capacity to eliminate hefty steels from water.

– With the gadget it can not be feasible for you to clean a large quantity of water at the very same time making use of the exact same tool.

Summary

AquaStiq is a mobile gadget for water filtering that you can be able to access a cost that is really cost effective. The tool takes advantage of the very best innovation in water purification that you can be able to discover throughout the globe.

Get The Lowest Price Now

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ohzoya-blog1 · 6 years

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Why You Will need A Fx Buying and selling Technique To Realize success - A Tale Of Two Fx Traders Just Starting up Out

RSI forex strategies With whatever area or investment you'd like to consider on, there are generally tools and methods obtainable to aid you. And this is specifically accurate when it will come to Fx. The currency current market can be fairly mind-boggling, and turning out to be a profitable Foreign exchange trader does not arrive from pure luck. There are basically way too a lot of aspects that can affect the direction that currency rates will shift towards. In this article are two crucial realities to take into account: 1. Most newbies consider to get on Forex employing no aid or tools. (Most rookies drop all of their cash). 2. Most effective traders use a Currency trading buying and selling technique to aid them (Effective traders make Very very good funds in Forex trading). But even with these realities generally regarded, rookies nevertheless attempt to assault Currency trading blind, basing their obtaining and promoting selections on minimal understanding and experience. It is not until eventually they have misplaced all of their trading resources that they contemplate that it most likely would have been smarter to spend in a Currency trading investing system and software package from the starting. Really don't make the identical blunder. If you want to be prosperous with forex trading (ie. building consistent profitable trades) then it is very suggested that you examine the a lot of Forex trading methods and software package on the current market. Permit me illustrate further with a story of about two Forex traders: Tom and Jim have been looking through about Forex trading a lot not too long ago. Both equally have been paying hrs on the web hoping to realize what forex investing is and how (and if) they can make some speedy gains. All of the promoting adverts that they read through say that you can enhance your money quite, extremely rapidly. Absolutely sure, you can find some possibility concerned, but the probable rewards are just way too fantastic to move up. So they both equally choose to test out Foreign exchange and see if they can make a go of it. Both equally fellas are extremely inspired and want to give Forex their very best probability. So every single of them is likely to commit $1000 of their personal savings into currency buying and selling. If they drop the $a thousand, then they will quit Fx and re-evaluate no matter if or not to try out again in the long term. By investing a thousand bucks, both have shown that they are totally dedicated to making Fx work for them. Starting Out: Tom requires his entire $a thousand and transfers it into a retail on the net Foreign exchange broker. Tom will be building all of his trading conclusions on his own. He will be performing his personal investigation and will lurking on Forex trading community forums and weblogs to see if he can get some significantly needed ideas. Jim goes a various route. Although he is just as determined as Tom, he is also knowledgeable of the complexity of the Forex trading marketplace and realizes that he just will not have substantially expertise at this point. So he will take $900 and transfers it to the very same retail Foreign exchange broker as Tom. He will save the remaining $a hundred in get to get access to tools and means (ie. Forex trading buying and selling programs and software) to enable him make superior trades. He utilised to day trade shares and is aware of initially hand the edge that these equipment and methods can have (particularly if you are just learning the ropes). Thirty day period 1: Tom jumped right into currency trading. His very first trade started off in the constructive, but quickly went south. Just before he could publish his promote request, he experienced misplaced $100. Even though he did have some insignificant successful trades, over-all his investing record was quite comparable to his initial trade. Many trades began off great, but for some purpose (that he just didn't have the knowledge or knowledge to realize), then would finally craze down. At the end of his initial month trading currencies, Tom's buying and selling account was down to $400. Jim, did a tiny little bit of research and located Currency trading Ambush. This was a membership site that provided its associates profitable alerts. What actually caught his eye was that they boldly said that their investing alerts were being 99.nine% correct. How could they make these kinds of a daring assertion? Jim did some far more digging and observed lots of optimistic comments from current customers. And there was a single much more thing that eventually swayed Jim into offering Forex trading Ambush a try: they offered a 7 day demo at a portion of their usual value. For much less than 20 bucks, Jim had 7 days to consider out Currency trading Ambush and their 99.9% accurate investing indicators. He was seriously energized. He experienced $900 in his Forex trading account and nonetheless experienced $80+ to use in circumstance Foreign exchange Ambush didn't help. The subsequent day Jim been given an electronic mail with a trading sign from Currency trading Ambush. He was still really new to Forex trading, but with the bold precision statement even now in his head, Jim place in his buy just as the trading signal specified. When his transaction shut afterwards that working day, Jim experienced created a $one hundred forty five income. He was quite energized! Immediately after his 7 working day trial finished, Jim went in advance and signed up to be a lasting member of Fx Ambush. While not every single investing sign resulted in gains, virtually all of them did. And the losses that he did have were incredibly small. Soon after a month, Jim experienced $1750 in his Currency trading trading account. Month 2: Tom was feeling deflated. Within a month, he had long gone from $1000 to $400. In purchase to try out to make back his dollars, he did higher valued trades that were being a lot additional risky. The finish outcome: he was down to $ in advance of the thirty day period had even ended. Tom was indignant and disappointed. He swore off ever carrying out Forex trading once again, telling everyone that would pay attention that it was a rip-off and that they ought to help you save their income. Jim, on the other hand, was on cloud nine. He experienced turned his first $900 and turned it into $1750. He was even now obtaining the day-to-day electronic mail from Forex trading Ambush with the trading signals, but he was also testing out a couple of other Foreign exchange buying and selling devices. Soon after a thirty day period of lucrative trades, he experienced a considerably greater understand on the Forex industry and was entire of self-assurance. By the conclude of thirty day period 2, Jim's trading account was now at $2355. And the most outstanding point was that Jim was carrying out all of this in his spare time. He however had a entire-time job to protect his dwelling costs. Every thing he made in Forex trading was more. He has been contemplating quitting his task and buying and selling Forex on a full-time basis. But for now, he's content for the steadiness his current task brings him and is experiencing the advantages that his "facet" cash in Forex is offering him. The moral of the tale: if you want to triumph at everything that you have incredibly tiny information and encounter with, it is remarkably advisable that you commit in the resources and methods to optimize your chances of success. You want to request on your own: do you want to be like Tom, lousy, angry, and swearing that Fx is just a fraud? Or would you somewhat be like Jim, investing in tools to support you be successful and savoring the profits that people applications will aid you make? If you are really serious about generating dollars with Fx, then you owe it to oneself to come across a Fx investing program that will give you the profitable edge.

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clubofinfo · 6 years

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Expert: Something quite extraordinary has been happening on Twitter. Corporate journalists have gone into meltdown after two British media analysts – known as Media Lens – tweeted some friendly advice to idealistic youngsters contemplating a career in journalism. Twitter is a social media forum much loved by corporate journalists – probably because media training hones their skills at pithy aphorisms and putdowns, especially of those who criticise them, that work well in Twitter’s confined format. In a battle of tweetbites, the corporate journalist is king. But the outpouring of indignation from these journalists at a little bit of advice from Media Lens must be unprecedented. What’s most notable is that until now tweets from Media Lens, or their much longer and more complex alerts on their website, have rarely attracted interest or acknowledgment from the chief targets of their analysis – big-name journalists working for the media corporations. There is good reason. Media Lens promote the Propaganda Model, developed by the late Ed Herman and Noam Chomsky in their book Manufacturing Consent. In short, Media Lens argue that the corporate media – and the journalists who work for it – are enforcers of a narrow spectrum of ideological orthodoxy that promotes the interests of corporate wealth and power. It may look as if there is a wide range of views in the western media – it does look that way to the corporate journalists themselves – but, in fact, serious and profound critiques of western society and its dominant ideology are almost entirely absent. Nowadays, debates in the corporate media are limited to how best to manage the excesses of a turbo-charged neoliberalism at home and a brutal neoconservatism dressed up as humanitarian intervention abroad. Questioning the fundamentals of how western societies are organised – suggesting that they are inherently self-destructive (climate breakdown); non-viable (endless economic growth on a planet with finite resources); and deeply sick (an explosion of chronic mental and physical ill-health) – is to place oneself outside the bounds of legitimate discourse in the so-called “mainstream”. Champions of the downtrodden? None of this, of course, is likely to endear Media Lens to your average corporate journalist, especially the ones who work for supposedly liberal outlets like the BBC and the Guardian, who fancifully see themselves as champions of the downtrodden and upholders of unvarnished truth. Media Lens have earned the especial enmity of George Monbiot and Owen Jones, the only two writers at the Guardian who have any claim to being on the reasonably radical wing of the left. They hate Media Lens’ observations that the paper they work for – and idealise – has repeatedly promoted illegal regime-change operations and cold-war rhetoric, maintained its love affair with war criminal Tony Blair, and sought to subvert two of the most hope-inspiring and progressive popular causes on the left, Wikileaks and Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn. Nowadays, few journalists acknowledge the existence of Media Lens, much less address the content of their arguments. Until, that is, this week when Media Lens tweeted the following: Forget it. Don’t write for the ‘mainstream’. Don’t write for money. Don’t write for prestige. Just ‘follow your bliss’ by writing what you absolutely love to write to inspire and enlighten other people. Write what seems interesting, important and true, and give it away for free. They were suggesting – as they always have – that there is no honest way for idealistic young people to work for the corporate media. They are there to provide legitimacy for a corporate agenda; the corporate media is not there to provide a platform for their ideals, especially if those ideals are likely to damage the corporations’ bottom line. Even if a journalist manages to carve out a small space as a token leftie on the margins of a “liberal” outlet like the Guardian – as Jones and Monbiot have done – he or she cannot shift the publication’s ideological centre of gravity. They simply provide cover for the false claim that the corporate media is pluralistic and inclusive. They deter or delay readers from awakening to the reality that 99.9% of everything they read and see in the corporate media is enforcing an extremely narrow – and dangerous – ideological horizon. Volcanic eruption In short, Media Lens are telling followers to abandon the corporate media model. Not to write as a slave bound to a corporation, to peddle its destructive agenda and promote its toxic brand. Not to make a Faustian pact in the hope of acquiring an easy authority and fame that derive from the large and visible platform of the corporate media. Media Lens are advising their followers to be true to themselves and their values. So how to explain the volcanic explosion of outrage in response? Take, for example, this from Emma Kennedy, a writer and TV presenter whose 127,000 Twitter followers were subjected to this short rant: This is total bollocks. If you want to be a writer know this: you have a value and you ALWAYS deserve to be paid. Go fuck yourself Media Lens. Or even the more temperate response from James Ball. He engineered a career for himself at the Guardian by – how I can put this … oh, I’m not writing this for any employer so let me follow my bliss – stabbing Wikileaks and Julian Assange in the back as regularly as the corporate pay checks dictated. This week Ball used a column at the “liberal” New Statesman magazine to dismiss the Media Lens project. Ball sidestepped Media Lens’ repeated critique, airing instead a much-favoured argument that only big corporations can finance the journalism needed to carry out investigations into the rich and powerful. Such stories take time and a lot of money, and also a lot of professional expertise: any fool can join a few dots and suggest there “may be something going on here”. Trying to prove it, make the story compelling, and do so without breaching libel laws, takes professionals. “Bliss” only gets you so far: eventually you need cash, too. Few Woodwards or Bernsteins First, let’s remember before corporate journalists like Ball get into full Woodward-and-Bernstein mode that only a minuscule number of journalists actually do anything resembling investigative work. The vast majority, including at the Guardian, do glorified rewriting of press releases, lifestyle journalism or commentary. Second, much of the investigative work most prized by journalists actually came about because the rich and powerful allowed the information to surface, usually because of feuding and rivalries within the ruling and Deep State elites (mention the Deep State, of course, and those corporate journalists are already starting to bristle on behalf of their employers). Watergate is a prime example. Woodward and Bernstein’s source Deep Throat – the only reason we ever found out about Watergate – was Mark Felt, the associate director of the FBI. He used the pages of the Washington Post to settle personal and institutional scores with the Nixon administration. Something much harder to quantify are how many investigations never get on to the media’s drawing board, or off it, because these same elites are united enough to stop the information leaking out. A reasonable suspicion ought to be that in the west we get to see only the tip of the iceberg of crimes and misdemeanours that have been committed at home and abroad in our names. Either knowledge of these crimes never moves beyond a tiny elite, or, if fragments do, they are conveniently dismissed by political and media elites as “conspiracy theories”. Down the memory hole Some conspiracy theories are speculative or evidence-free, but plenty are grounded in some evidence. If that evidence is incomplete, or barely known by the public, it is precisely because the corporate media prefers to ignore it rather than investigate and bring it to their readers’ attention. Major parts of western history have been either disappeared down the memory hole or exiled to the margins of the internet. Just try googling CIA Operations Mockingbird, Ajax or Gladio. No one is suggesting that holding the powerful to account is not necessary. The issue is how it is done, who finances it and how much the current financing model by corporations influences what is investigated, who is targeted, and what information comes to light. These are all questions no one in the corporate media even thinks about, much less addresses. Further, lots of investigative work happens not primarily because of journalists but because of the work of brave whistleblowers and new whistleblowing platforms like Wikileaks, which have been made possible by the digital revolution. The corporate media’s supposed commitment to no-holds-barred investigative journalism can be gauged by their uniform hostility to Wikileaks. (The irony of Ball extolling the importance of investigative journalism after he was at the forefront of the Guardian’s campaign to hobble Wikileaks should not need underscoring.) We are in a time of transition. New technologies offer new ways to carry out both investigations and journalism, and to finance it through crowdfunding and micro-payments. Media Lens are simply among those pushing to speed up change: to have journalists financed by readers rather than mega-corporations. No one who has a little idealism left should be against that. The best investigations conducted by the corporate media might have been much better, with a much broader scope, and have pulled their punches far less had they been written by journalists not constrained by corporate interests. Journalist Chain Gangs Finally, Ball, like Kennedy and many others, including Owen Jones, has suggested that there is something “anti-socialist” about telling journalists to work unpaid. There is only one problem: that wasn’t what Media Lens said in their tweet. Not writing for money and prestige is not the same as writing for free. One concerns motivation; the other concerns outcome. Write for money and prestige, and one is forced into a market place where skills are bought and owned by the highest bidder. This is the journalist as a channel, a vessel, for the rich and powerful to promote their values. Renounce money and prestige as a motivation and write from “bliss” – a place of honesty, awareness and deep values unconnected to reward – and what one writes will be far more significant, insightful and truthful. And if it is any good, it will inspire people to make donations. Is such a way of life more difficult than becoming a hired gun? Of course, it is. Will it be less well-paid? Almost certainly. Is it for everyone? Probably not. But that is not the issue Media Lens was addressing. They were not telling idealistic journalists how they could get rich quick, how they could work within corporate parameters or how they could win easy adoration and followers on Twitter. They were answering the question: how can I write and remain true to myself? There was nothing “anti-socialist” about their response. The sad fact is that corporate journalists are so captive to the agendas of their employers, that even the most liberal of them cannot imagine how other journalists might not be able to see a place for themselves in that corporate world, or may not see how they could get anything published that they believe would be of value. Chomsky once famously told a non-plussed Andrew Marr of the BBC: I’m sure you believe everything you’re saying. But what I’m saying is, if you believed something different you wouldn’t be sitting where you’re sitting. Journalists and writers like Kennedy, Jones and Ball are not being “socialist” or principled in defending corporate chain gangs for journalists, even if they themselves cannot see the heavy corporate leg-irons they wear. No one paid me to write this piece, or any of the articles on my blog. If you appreciated it, or any of the others, please consider hitting the donate button to the right. http://clubof.info/

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