#c: rafiq

[wallacejwriting]

More Characters from City of Fractured Dreams & the Farside Universe

There's something deeply satisfying about having an entire character post where all the characters are trans. Like. Something really really satisfying. I love it.

These six are some of the younger and more prominent supporting characters. Lara and Bran are Cináed's best friends and Xion, Haru, Rafiq, and Ariel are all in Nomiki's story.

Let me know what you think!

Accessible text version below the cut.

Lara Acardi (She/Her) | Trans, Queer

18 yr old Topsider

Prosthetic legs – her right leg is prosthetic just passed where it attaches to the hip, and her left is prosthetic from just above the knee down. She paints them in cute flower patterns and designs her own legs

A Caster, and second in her class to Cináed

Good friends with Cináed and Bran

Giggly, cheerful, and often looks on the bright side of things. Extremely protective

A chubby lady! She’s got big round cheeks and loves spinny skirts and poufy blouses

Her father is the top scientist of Topside and she is his best assistant and apprentice

Bran Faolán (He/Him) | Trans, Queer

17 yr old Topsider

Youngest child of family, has an older sister in the Dragonguard, Aisling, who dies early on

A caster, a powerful one, who specializes in using water and wind to create ice, then forming combinations from that

Snarky, argumentative, analytical, bossy, looks innocent though, scheming

Loves his sister more than anyone else

Scars are from burns and moreso cover only the left side of his face (our right), including part of his left ear

Friends and roommates with Cináed

Hard of hearing in left ear, partially blind in left eye, wears glasses only sometimes due to damaged ear making it difficult

Xion (She/Her) | Trans, Queer

20 yr old Undersider

Clumsy, eager, well meaning inventor whose inventions often go wrong

Childhood friends with Haru

Desperate to make her mark on the world and prove that she can be useful

Has spent several years trying to figure out how to make her own ArTech but can’t crack the stones

Obsessed with flying, flight, and it as an image of freedom

Openly affectionate, loud, bubbly, covers her insecurity with open love of those around her

Haru (They/She) | Trans, Queer

21 yr old Undersider

Childhood friends with Xion

A medic who has spent a lot of time seeking out people to learn from and is always trying to learn more in healing

A peacekeeper and calming force. Grounds people

An escaped member of the Cult of Farside who has been hiding out on Tairkyda for over a decade

Quiet, observant, loyal and driven, a follower by nature and fine with it

Rafiq (He/They) | Trans, Queer

13 yr old Fringer

A Fringe farmer who lives with his family, including Ariel

Dorky, well meaning, and always with wide eyes. Isn’t big on touch, but he puts it aside for people he loves

A little too self-sacrificing and heroic for someone his age

Fears people he loves getting hurt

Has an awkward sense of humour that pokes fun at himself more than anyone else

Good with animals, like, really good

Ariel (He/Him) | Trans, Queer

22 yr old Fringer

A farmer in the Fringe who grows potatoes and tends to chickens

Has a big family that he loves dearly, his sister, her wife, and his brothers

A bunny beastie with massive ears and a big cottonball tail

Awkward, shy, and dorky. Very earnest

Nomiki crashes in his backyard and he sees Accolade save her

Wants to be a hero, an adventurer, more than anything

#writeblr #character intro #character blurbs #character profile #queer writers #wip: farsiders #wip: city of fractured dreams #series: book of farside #c: lara acardi #c: bran faolan #c: ariel #c: haru #c: xion #c: rafiq

[cocrante]

It was a beautiful February Sunday.

The sun was rising beyond the hills to greet the people of Sumeru. It was a day like any other, a Sunday like many others, Kaveh knew this and he wouldn't do anything to make it a day to remember. There was nothing worth remembering more than the days past and waiting to build more memories in the future days. It would be a typical quiet day, a silent Sunday, nestled in the warm bed with his lover, surrounded by the cozy aroma of freshly ground coffee:—"Five more minutes" murmured Haitham, holding his boyfriend's torso, his head resting on his chest. "As you wish" whispered Kaveh, his hand stroking his silver hair, his face relaxing feeling those gentle fingers caressing his head. "You should sleep more on Sundays" Haitham murmured again, his eyes still closed, but he spoke those words with a smile. "You're the one sleeping too much" Kaveh replied sweetly, masking a laugh. "The sun has already risen" he brushed a strand of hair from his face. "Then I should have already woken up" he replied, slowly opening his eyes, stopping Kaveh's hand that was caressing his face. "But maybe I prefer to stay in bed with my rafiq al-umr" and as he said those words, he kissed the tips of his fingers. "Would you like to keep me in bed all day?" he laughed, blushing at those words, looking at Haitham as he moved and returned to his side of the bed. "Do you mind?" he replied with another question. "Only if we can have breakfast in bed" he retorted, relishing the sight of Haitham truly relaxed that morning. "We'll eat in bed" he conceded, and Kaveh, after giving him a kiss on the lips, jumped out of bed and ran to the kitchen. Haitham sighed, happy, peaceful, enjoying the quiet of that morning. Another year had passed, another year in which Kaveh was part of his life, there was nothing more he could want or ask for. It was fine like this, cuddling with the man he loved for five minutes more was the perfect gift.

Then Kaveh returned, in his hand a rich tray full of all the foods and delicacies that his beloved liked. He knew Haitham didn't want to be celebrated, but good food didn't count as celebration, it was Sunday after all, worth indulging a little. Haitham, sensing what Kaveh was thinking, smiled, he couldn't really ask for anything more. The gods had been gracious and generous to him, bringing Kaveh once again into his life. Kaveh got back under the covers, the tray between them, the warm aroma of coffee embracing the entire room. "Open your mouth" Kaveh asked gently, taking a sweet lokum, Haitham did as he was asked.

They spent the morning eating, feeding each other with the delicious foods of Sumeru, kissing from time to time, and when they finished, they returned under the sheets to love each other for a few more hours.

#📌 : wip #a little thing for huyti birthday ~~ #miss kavetham so much in these days of hiatus #hope you like this little gift c: #rafiq al-umr means my partner for life #i think is the right translation #but im not really sure #kavetham #haikaveh #al haitham birthday #genshin impact

[cronicasvampiricas-rpg]

La Hermandad de Sacmis tiene origen en Alejandría, Egipto, aproximadamente en el 78 A.C. Su fundadora fue una bastet de nombre ANAT (del egipcio, mujer del dios Seth y esposa del dios Ra; diosa de la guerra y de la fertilidad), que trató de poner fin a las continuas peleas de poder entre brujos y licántropos de la zona. Su objetivo siempre fue mantener el equilibrio y la paz, aunque fuese con sangre.

Durante muchos siglos, sólo se permitió formar parte de la Hermandad a bastets. Los buscaban, los entrenaban y les enseñaban las normas de la hermandad. Actuando siempre en las sombras para buscar el equilibrio entre razas y lo que en el Gran Código de Sacmis se denominaba la paz total.

Solía buscarse y captarse a bastets sin rumbo, pero progresivamente se instauró el ritual de buscar nogitsunes y "contaminarse" para poder transmitir el don a otras generaciones. Usualmente solo los bastets más mayores a punto de retirarse son quienes enfrentan a los nogitsunes y seleccionan a la nueva generación. Muchas veces es bajo previo acuerdo, pero algunos bastets han sido convertidos a traición. EN LA ACTUALIDAD, no obstante, se ha permitido la entrada a la Hermandad de otro tipo de razas, siempre que todos respeten los principios básicos y el credo de los Sacmis.

Cuando los primeros vampiros comenzaron a surgir, la Hermandad estuvo a punto de desaparecer ante la nueva amenaza que se extendía. Fuertes y letales, parecían atentar contra todo. Fue cuando se asentaron las BASES de la Hermandad y aparecieron las jerarquías de poder tratando de mantener el orden.

Consolidada como la organización enemiga de los VAMPIROS STRIX, la Hermandad se enfrenta actualmente a una crisis sin precedentes, manteniendo como Rafiq de Nueva Orleans a @G. ELOISE COLLINS, y habiéndose revelado la identidad de la próxima Gran Maestre: @SHARON C. HARGROVE.

Cabe destacar que la Hermandad de Sacmis goza de una importante ventaja frente a sus enemigos, y es que disponen de un arma con la capacidad de transformar a humanos en bastets, sin un nogitsune como intermediario. Se trata del CETRO DE HATHOR, instrumento que se utilizará para transformar a humanos en futuros novicios de la organización.

#bandos #hermandad de sacmis

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

Still sad I didn't bother to grab an early tutorial screen grab where it said it was safe to come out now after going anonymous because the amount of jokes I could make are endless.

The Damascus Rafiq might be the actual king of the backhanded compliment but I think by now his remarks are turning sincere.

Acre was done SO DIRTY I cannot see a THING in this blue washed hell scape. The colours in this game are already muted to hell and trying to assassinate William felt INSANE b/c everything is the same shade of blue/grey with the odd pop of red but he wasn't that much different from his soldiers (thanks Eagle Vision).

I know remasters are controversial sometimes, but it would've done this game good I think. I am no HD graphics elitist but just brightening this one up, even if all they fixed was the colouring would help the experience a LOT.

Okay that all being said I've got 3 targets left and I wanna go bother Malik but there's no missions in Jerusalem right now.

#nates ac play

[harpianews]

India vs Australia warm-up match live updates: Rahul, Rohit depart in quick succession, India 116/2

India vs Australia warm-up match live updates: Rahul, Rohit depart in quick succession, India 116/2

India vs Australia Live Streaming & Updates: Here are the two squads. Australia captain Aaron Finch congratulates India captain Rohit Sharma, center on the victory in the second T20 cricket match between India and Australia in Nagpur, India Friday, September 23, 2022. (AP Photo/Rafiq Maqbool) Australia squad: Aaron Finch (c), Matthew Wade (w), David Warner, Mitchell Marsh, Steven Smith, Tim…

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[indiejones]

INDIES TOP 275 ACTORS OF 1940’s BOLLYWOOD !

1.       .K. L. Saigal

2.       .Jayant

3.       .Gajanan Jagirdar

4.       .Karan Dewan

5.       .Shyam

6.       .Bharat Bhushan

7.       .Prem Adib

8.       .Master Nissar

9.       .Paidi Jairaj

10.   .Surendra

11.   .Dev Anand

12.   .Kishore Sahu

13.   .Dixit

14.   .Shyam Sunder

15.   .Balraj Sahni

16.   .Hamid

17.   .Ashok Kumar

18.   .K. Pandit

19.   .L. Narayan Rao

20.   .Sohrab Modi

21.   .Sapru

22.   .Manher Desai

23.   .Master Vithal

24.   .V.H. Desai

25.   .Ashiq Hussain

26.   .Aftab

27.   .M. Esmail

28.   .Ghulam Rasool

29.   .David

30.   .Ghulam Mohammad

31.   .Sheikh Mukhtar

32.   .Premnath

33.   .John Cawas

34.   .M. Musa

35.   .Paresh Bandhopadhyay

36.   .Benjamin

37.   .Omkar

38.   .Ram Kumar

39.   .Kishore Kumar

40.   .Dr. G.V. Subba Rao

41.   .Swaraj Mitter Gupta

42.   .Romeo

43.   .Sadiq

44.   .Chandra Mohan

45.   .Chandrakant Gokhale

46.   .Sayed Ahmed

47.   .Baburao

48.   .Nihal Sharma

49.   .Shiv Dayal

50.   .Pramod Chandra

51.   .Ramesh Thakur

52.   .Prithviraj Kapoor

53.   .Shivraj

54.   .Anil Kumar

55.   .Ata Mohammad

56.   .Asit Sen

57.   .Jeevan Lal

58.   .Tulsi Chakraborty

59.   .Balakram

60.   .Sachin Ghosh

61.   .Sham Laha

62.   .Ravi

63.   .Harishchandra

64.   .Munshi Munakka

65.   .Ram Avtar

66.   .Gope

67.   .Shree Nath

68.   .G. Das

69.   .Umakant

70.   .Jal Writer

71.   .Pithawala

72.   .Prakash

73.   .Kumar

74.   .Nana Palsikar

75.   .Ranjan

76.   .Mehdi Raza

77.   Anand Prasad Kapoor

78.   .Satish Batra

79.   .Paresh Banerjee

80.   .Wasti

81.   .Abu Bakar

82.   .Ramesh Sinha

83.   .Amarnath

84.   .Mohammad Farooqui

85.   .Jawahar Kaul

86.   .Vasant Thegdi

87.   .Nandrekar

88.   .Nana Madgulkar

89.   .Kamlakant

90.   .Harishchandra

91.   .Elizer

92.   .Mubarak

93.   .K. C. Dey

94.   .P. Kailash

95.   .Dewan Sharar

96.   .Rehman

97.   .Hrishikesh

98.   .Mirza Musharraf

99.   .Rammoorthy

100.                        .Raj Adib

101.                        .Jani Babu

102.                        .Mukri

103.                        .Vijay Kumar

104.                        .Ramesh Gupta

105.                        .Pesi Patel

106.                        .Jankidas

107.                        .C.M. Hussain

108.                        .Parshuram

109.                        .Mohammed Hussain

110.                        .Rai Mohan

111.                        .Jyoti Prakash

112.                        .Shakir

113.                        .Pahari Sanyal

114.                        .Avinash

115.                        .Nazir

116.                        .Pran

117.                        .E. Billimoria

118.                        .Sudesh

119.                        .Shahu Modak

120.                        .Damuanna Malvankar

121.                        .Azim

122.                        .Nawaz

123.                        .Parulkar

124.                        .Rafiq Ghaznavi

125.                        .Murad

126.                        .Motilal

127.                        .Raj Mehra

128.                        .Prabhakar

129.                        .Salvi

130.                        .Noor Mohammed Charlie

131.                        .Balwant Singh

132.                        .A.R. Ojha

133.                        .Mahesh Kaul

134.                        .Tandon

135.                        .Sunder

136.                        .Satish (Nai Zindagi, 1943)

137.                        .Nagendra

138.                        .Fenty Prasad

139.                        .Ram Singh

140.                        .Dilip Bose

141.                        .Nayampalli

142.                        .Uma Dutt

143.                        .Arun Kumar Ahuja

144.                        .Om Prakash

145.                        .A.G. Butt

146.                        .Radhakrishan

147.                        .Badri Prasad

148.                        .Madhu Apte

149.                        .Nisar Ahmed

150.                        .Navinchandra

151.                        .Kamal Mehra

152.                        .Khalil

153.                        .Suresh

154.                        .Abhyankar

155.                        .Bhim

156.                        .Ulhas

157.                        .Prabhu Dayal

158.                        .Garib Shah

159.                        .Kamal Misra

160.                        .C.J. Pandey

161.                        .Uday Shankar

162.                        .Naresh Bose

163.                        .Vithaldas

164.                        .Jamshedji

165.                        .S.N. Tripathi

166.                        .Chhabi Biswas

167.                        .Zahur Raja

168.                        .Bhudo Advani

169.                        .Samar Roy

170.                        .Madan Puri

171.                        .Amar Mullick

172.                        .Arun Kumar

173.                        .Mithu Miya

174.                        .Rajendra Singh

175.                        .Babu Nene

176.                        .Dhulia

177.                        .Sayani Atish

178.                        .Sardar Mansoor

179.                        .V. Shantaram

180.                        .Dalpat

181.                        .Buddhadeb

182.                        .E. Tarapore

183.                        .Sushil Kumar

184.                        .Satish Vyas

185.                        .Dhiraj Bhattacharya

186.                        .Nimbalkar

187.                        .Dilip Kumar

188.                        .Boman Shroff

189.                        .Vinay Kale

190.                        .Gyani

191.                        .Trilok Kapoor

192.                        .Nemo

193.                        .Yakub / Lala Yaqub

194.                        .Hira Sawant

195.                        .Bhagwan

196.                        .M. Ismail

197.                        .Ramlal

198.                        .Masud

199.                        .Jeevan

200.                        .Amar Kumar

201.                        .Ram Kamlani

202.                        .Niranjan Sharma

203.                        .Hadi

204.                        .Ghorpure

205.                        .Jal Merchant

206.                        .Mahipal

207.                        .Nijamuddin

208.                        .B.M. Vyas

209.                        .Ajay Kumar

210.                        .Surve

211.                        .Girish

212.                        .Randhir

213.                        .Inamdar

214.                        .Anant Marathe

215.                        .Majid

216.                        .Ibrahim

217.                        .Yusuf Effendi

218.                        .Madhav Kale

219.                        .Vasant Singh

220.                        .Nawab

221.                        .Narhari Narayan Joshi

222.                        .Vasantrao Pehalwan

223.                        .Kanhaiyalal

224.                        .Mazhar Khan

225.                        .Rewashankar

226.                        .Shah Nawaz

227.                        .Raja Paranjpe

228.                        .Pankaj Mullick

229.                        .Keshavrao Date

230.                        .Yakub

231.                        .Sankatha Prasad

232.                        .Bipin Gupta

233.                        .Altaf

234.                        .Raj Kapoor

235.                        .M. Nazir

236.                        .S. Baburao

237.                        .Bhagwandas

238.                        .S.L. Puri

239.                        .Hiralal

240.                        .Popatlal

241.                        .Nazir Bedi

242.                        .Gulzar

243.                        .Hari Shivdasani

244.                        .Simeons

245.                        .Munshi Khanjar

246.                        .Anant Prabhu

247.                        .K. N. Singh

248.                        .Baburao Pendharkar

249.                        .Jagannath

250.                        .Nazir Kashmiri

251.                        .Bikram Kapoor

252.                        .Beg

253.                        .Alam

254.                        .Ameer Hussein

255.                        .Vishnupant Pagnis

256.                        .Bacha

257.                        .Narmada Shankar

258.                        .Mirajkar

259.                        .Devaskar

260.                        .Rai Mohan

261.                        .A. Karim

262.                        .Ajmal

263.                        .Haroon

264.                        .Kantilal

265.                        .N.A. Ansari

266.                        .Mahapatra

267.                        .Bhanu Banerjee

268.                        .Jagdish Sethi

269.                        .Gulshan Sufi

270.                        .S.D. Narang

271.                        .Jog Madgulkar

272.                        .Zahur Shah

273.                        .A. Shah

274.                        .Master Vinayak

275.                        .Jal Khambata

276.                        .Maruti Rao

277.                        .Agha

[imran-hyd]

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم ❝Definition of Tawheed and its types❞ ❝The comprehensive definition of Tawheed comprising all of its types is: [A] The knowledge and belief of the servant, his acknowledgement and his faith in His Lord being singled out with every attribute of perfection, and his uniqueness in that. [B] and the belief that there is no partner [Shareek] or like [Matheel] for Him in His perfection and [C] [the belief] that He holds [the right] of Uloohiyyah [devotion, worship] and Uboodiyyah [worship, servitude] over all of His creation. Thereafter, to single Him out with the types of worship. Hence, the three types of Tawheed enter into this definition, the first of them is : ***Tawheed al-Ruboobiyyah, which is the acknowledgement of the Lord being singled out in creating [Khalq], providing [Rizq], regulating [Tadbeer] and nurturing [Tarbiyyah]. ***The second, Tawheed ul-Asmaa wal-Sifaat, which is to affirm everything that Allaah affirme for Himself or His Messenger Muhammad [ﷺ] affirmed for Him, of beautiful names, and whatever attributes [are indicated] by these names, without resembling or likening them [to those of the creation], and without distorting them or denying them. ***The third, Tawhid ul-Ibaadah, which is to single out Allaah alone with all of the types of worship and their categories, and to make them only [for Allaah] and sincerely for Allaah without making anyone as a partner in anything from them. So these are the categories of Tawheed, a servant cannot be a Muwahhid [true monotheist] unless he holds fast to them and acts [in accordance] with them.❞ [Su'aal wa Jawaab Fee Ahimml-Muhimmaat in al-Majmoo'ah al-Kaamilah of Shaykh al-Sa'dee, (3/61) | Translated By Abu Iyaad Amjad Rafiq] https://www.instagram.com/p/CeoLb3xLQhYeUwEsuXtIApMHtnNEz9MVH1cxxs0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[xadoheandterra]

Series: The Heir, The Reader, and Clay

Title: Run It Again Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Characters: Desmond Miles, Malik al-Sayf, Altair ibn La’Ahad, Al Mualim Pairings: Altair/Malik Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI | XVII | XVIII Enabler: @kingbob2-0 @claire-the-dyke-dragon Tags: Time Travel, Dad Malik, Desmond Raised By Others, De-Aged Desmond, OC’s Galore, Feels, Emotional Trauma and Implied Abuse, Altair Is A Giant Mess Summary: They hadn’t found an answer yet, and Layla was impatient despite the promise of the Grey being timeless in its nature. She didn’t want to have to search for an answer that might never come–so she made another suggestion. Why not just change it? Why not counter the Isu influence on the Pieces of Eden where it counted, and counter what Juno inevitably did to the Eye in the Grand Temple?

It was all the push that Desmond needed to let himself be just that bit more selfish. So selfish he chose to be, and there was one moment where the Isu’s hold on the Pieces of Eden had a profound effect–the Levantine Brotherhood. Altair Ibn La’Ahad. Al Mualim. There was just one problem–Desmond was eight, a child, and didn’t remember dying.

Layla at least had his back, even if she was just a bit fashionably late.

Altair touched his hidden blade on his left arm reflexively. Al Mualim had gifted him back the blade silently, judgement lined every inch of the Master as he stared Altair down, and Altair stood not tall and proud but hunched and unsure in front of Al Mualim in that moment--unsure of his own place within the Brotherhood and unsure as to why he was being given the chance to get it back. Altair didn't fight the opportunity though, or question it beyond the brief realization that Al Mualim intended to send him out weaponless and informationless--and the realization that Altair would from this moment onward be at the whims of his Brothers whom all hated him.

There was so much red in Masyaf now, when all there used to be was blue and Altair didn't know how to feel about that--that so many of his Brothers scorned him and hated him and believed him to be the source of all that has gone wrong in their Brotherhood. Altair told himself he'd work silently and calmly--and then the first brother opened his mouth and all Altair felt was rage--rage at the boy who dare speak to him so, rage at the fact that he was being told to hunt down a traitor to the order and not being told anything more--rage that his Brothers clearly knew who had sided with the Templar dogs and yet they still didn't give him a name or bring him in themselves. No it fell to Altair's shoulders and Altair had to wander the village and listen to petty gossip and steal and do all of the things he hadn't needed to do since he was a Novice.

For a long, long while the rage was all Altair felt. Even after Al Mualim gave him back his sword--bloodied and freshly used to kill Masun--gave him back his hidden blade and told him to head to Damascus and find Tamir--and that he must first visit the Bureau and the Rafiq therein and seek approval for the kill. So Altair did as bade and sought out the Bureau and the Rafiq and truthfully Khaliq had nothing but kinds words to him that rang false and hollow when Altair heard them; like Al Mualim Khaliq had bid him to find the answer he sought as to Tamir's location and best route to do the deed itself--and that Altair was to not to ask after the Informants as to the answers for his questions. In turn Altair hunted down his target with the bare minimum information and everything he had gathered for himself before he Khaliq granted permission for Altair to kill Tamir. As blood then spilt Altair felt the world wash away into that hazy dream-state that always followed such high targets in the aftermath of the killing.

The ghost of Tamir spoke, and the things he whispered had burned the rage in Altair to newer heights. He called their Order a Brotherhood, claimed Altair a prideful child--Altair found himself aflame and eager to seek out the rest of these names the Master promised would free him from his shame. Perhaps they truly would, then, if they aimed to demean everything Altair had known since childhood into nothing but a mockery. Al Mualim aimed him, pointed him to targets, and Altair let his fury and injustice out upon them until he would be spent--and maybe it would quell the way his chest ached when Malik and Kadar did not emerge from the Temple; maybe it would ease the way his throat felt tight in his neck, his stomach bound up in his chest, as he changed the bandages on Malik's arm. Maybe it would stop the way his Brothers scorn itched beneath his skin, or the feel of a blade in his gut as he his held back and still and Al Mualim cries Justice.

Maybe killing these Nine would ease some of that which burned Altair, inside too. Perhaps that was all he was good for, anyway--to be the weapon aimed and fired by the Master; the killer and the blade for the cause of the Brotherhood and nothing else. Do not think, Altair--do not know, only act. Do as I say--

Altair touched the hidden blade again with his fingers and stared down at his weapons and shuddered. He did not want to be just the blade, the killer that everyone saw when they looked at him. Altair was smart and clever and so, so good at killing that it was no surprise that was all anyone saw of him--but his other talents were there, and often he wanted to hone them more than he wanted to be the blade at the behest of his Masters and yet--yet the blade was all anyone wanted of him. Then it turned against them they hated him and Altair--Altair had to close his eyes and force himself to breathe.

Al Mualim hadn't answered his questions, after that first death. He'd brushed aside his queries with sweet words that rang hollow--Altair knew too much, was too important, and that had provided him a head too large for his skill. Perhaps the Master was right. Perhaps he let the knowledge he'd been given, the fact that he'd been favored so publicly, get to his head and twist him. Perhaps this shame was good for him, but Altair couldn't see that. All he felt was the pain of it--of being different and other like he'd always been. Even as a child he'd been the strange one who either spoke too much or spoke too little--who stared and watched and couldn't help the blank gaze that would cross his face as he contemplated the colors and what they could mean. The way he knew who lied and who told truth and the way he would spill secrets he knew not where secrets--and Altair grated at the thought of it all as Justice, this punishment and debasement, but perhaps in some twisted way it really was.

There were so many colors and secrets bound to the twilight world of Masyaf; some days it left Altair breathless as others it left him baffled in trying to understand their meaning. The impressions in that twilight world were so faint and daunting that even now Altair wasn't sure if they were right. Not when so much of Masyaf bled red; it'd always been purples and blues and at least the blue-purples Altair could trust but all the red made him tense and wary and waspish when he had to interact with his Brothers. Or perhaps more accurately still his Masters, because wasn't the whole of the Brotherhood his Master at this point? Isn't that what Al Mualim had told him--he was beneath them, a blade for them, nothing more until his Nine were dead and gone and his soul freed from this torment--Altair touched his Hidden Blade and grounded himself as he bowed his head with his heavy thoughts.

Acre was the next destination; his target Garnier de Naplouse who supposedly ran the Knights Hospitalier. Jabal was kinder, by far, compared to anyone Altair had interacted with. He was short with his words, but he at least pointed Altair in the right direction. He didn't outright lie or present a second face, either, which Altair respected. He teased but his teasing wasn't cruel and for that Altair felt thankful, a bit hopeful. Jabal glowed bright and brilliant blue of safety and in Acre Altair found the chance to ease a bit of the tension. He wasn't forced to move, and move fast. He had the chance to take his time, to gather the information he needed before he moved into his target in the hospital--a target who sold men to a slaver and shipped his 'product' to Jerusalem, for all he claimed to heal them.

The amount of blood that covered everything had made Altair near sick; the way Garnier dressed was horrifying. He barely bothered to clean himself from each person he visited. The sick and illness of the place was permeable in the air and Altair wanted everything to be over as quickly as he could. He near welcomed the dream-haze of the kill--until the ghost of Garnier spoke and Altair felt--

Altair couldn't describe how he felt. It was wrong and he knew it was wrong, yet Garnier's conviction and the way he spoke of his victims was not--it shook Altair. He'd been spoken of that same way, hadn't he--a mad dog to be put down, a child to be freed from his burdens of mind--a loyal dog to his Master, like all of Garnier's puppet soldiers high on whatever drugs Garnier put into their system. Were they truly better off under his care--was it so wrong to desire to help even if that help led to such--such depravity? And what did that mean for Al Mualim who stood there and mocked and raised Altair up with each hand, the way he pushed Altair to better heights and then knocked him down with harshness that belied the kindness--the way Altair often felt ghosted by the Master and his failings to be just that level of good enough for long enough and--Altair felt so indebted--like those men--

For a brief moment Altair sought the Rafiq for answers; perhaps Jabal had something worthwhile to say, to ease the churning confusion in his mind--but Jabal wanted nothing of it and that safety, that blue calmness edged toward purple and red and Altair--Altair quit speaking as soon as Jabal lashed back and dismissed him. He'd forgotten himself in the friendly face, forgotten himself in his task--to each he was a blade and nothing more and for a moment Altair allowed himself to be tricked to thinking otherwise. As soon as he pulled himself back, Jabal returned to being friendly and kind and safe and Altair--Altair just wanted to be done with Acre and gone.

Al Mualim had answers; he spoke kindly when compared to their last conversation--a better mood, Altair figured. Perhaps last time had been at a poor moment, perhaps news had reached Al Mualim and Altair had merely chosen the wrong thing to say at the wrong time. Now the Master drew Altair in to his study, dismissed the Scholars who worked with him through books and tomes, and settled Altair down until he was here. The Master recognized the way Altair wavered, a little bit elsewhere and not all present, and worked accordingly until Altair came back from wherever he drifted in his confusion. Until Altair sat with blade in hand and fingers pressed against it, gaze down and inward while the Master moved about the room and worked and Altair thought and--Altair breathed slow and steady.

"I do not understand," the words were finally spoken into the air, and Altair did not feel better for them.

"Tell me what you are having trouble with," Al Mualim sat his book aside and placed his elbows onto the table as he looked at Altair from over his hands--ever patient, his Mentor. Altair pressed fingers against the blade to keep him here, close enough to feel the bite of the edge, but far enough to not hurt himself.

"The men in the hospital, Garnier's victims--" Altair hated to think of that wretched place, the smell of blood and death and decay--the way illness soaked the very floors and how utterly unclean everything felt. Yet those men still they near worshipped the ground Garnier walked on--and so many of his victims whispered words of thanks even as they were butchered. They weren't rich or well liked people but they were still people, those of the streets and the unknindness of the world.

(Altair, too, whispered thanks as he was broken down and made back up each time he failed a task; thanks to the Master for taking pity on him and teaching him and bettering him and the parallels--)

Al Mualim sighed, heavy indeed as he leaned back in his chair and Altair raised his gaze to his Master--he took in the purplish-blue hue of the man before he blinked away the twilight world and stared at the drawn and thinness to Al Mualim's face as he spoke, "This is my fault."

"How is this your fault?"

Al Mualim ran his hands over his face before he got to his feet and headed toward the door to the study. He spoke quietly, too quiet for Altair to hear before he stepped back into the room and settled himself back down in his chair. He answered, "I thought it best to keep such unpleasantness of the world from you for a time--and realized how I have failed you in doing so only too late." The door opened and one of the Scholars entered with tea, set the cups and pots down and quickly bowed out.

"What unpleasantness?" Altair asked as Al Mualim poured a cup of tea and then offered it. Altair didn't want to pull his fingers from the blade, from his steadying touch and yet the Master would expect Altair to take the drink. Altair reached out and clasped the cup tight between his fingers and stared down at the tea and did not look to the Master, did not look at his Mentor as he struggled to piece together what unpleasantness Al Mualim had supposedly kept from him. There was plenty of unpleasantness to the world--what new danger that Altair had been unaware of had he missed?

"It is the way of the world," Al Mualim said, words soft and gentle that Altair tilted his head as he listened, bird-like in curiosity, "that leaders will seek to control their subjects by any means necessary--it is what makes them leaders, in the end. Oftentimes it starts with words or deeds, a way to draw those to them. Kindness and softness to their touch--and then those methods begin to fail, so they seek baser results. Coin for bribes or favors, threats against loved ones and livelihoods, and all kinds of cruel trickery."

Altair frowned and bowed his head and watched the way the tea churned in his cup. He knew of these actions; he'd thought of such things before when he contemplated the Creed and the fallacy that even the Assassin's fell into. His grip on the tea was tight, strong enough that he could hear the leather of his gloves creak. He still didn't know what Al Mualim meant about unpleasantness of the world--about what was kept from him. What sort of secrets had he not been privy to like every other person he'd ever met--what social more had Altair missed this chance that Al Mualim decided better to not correct him on?

"Herbs, Altair," Al Mualim spoke, words kind in their unkindness, "can be used in such interesting ways." Altair knew this; knew of how they used poppy to aide in healing, the way it twisted the mind and changed how one thought. He knew the way herbs could bend things into a strangeness that was no other--he'd seen the responses on it. "So easy it is to slip something new into another's drink, or their incense set to burn--all the while the masses unaware of the change. In fact many, if given leave of their senses long enough, become enslaved to it--to the feeling that it provides them, to the escape from their harsh realities...to peace."

Altair ducked his head, mumbled his response of, "He drugged them?" with half-surprise, half lack of it because he knew--he knew there were herbs involved and he knew the way they were used was wrong somehow but he couldn't pin it until Al Mualim's offhand comment and it burned at him, then. Were they willing victims, complicit in their poisonings as they desired more and more of this addictive substance that they knew they were given--or had they no knowledge of what Naplouse had done, no awareness as to what they now found themselves in need of except conflating that need with their vaunted savior? "Poisoned, them?" Altair continued, sick with the thought that those poor souls had no knowledge of what Naplouse had done.

Al Mualim settled his teacup down, eyes sharp as they stared at Altair who paled at the thought--drugged, poisoned, unknowingly imbibing a substance that he could not name and did not know the effects of--it terrified him. "Our enemies often accuse me of the same," Al Mualim said, eventually, and Altair near dropped his cup in surprise. "This surprises you, Altair?"

"I--you wouldn't--" Altair glanced between the cup and his Master, throat tight. Had he--

"This tea is not drugged," Al Mualim said, a faint smile to his lips. "Worry not--but that is what they would claim of me." Altair pulled his hands from his cup, the words that is what they would claim of me circling around with thoughts of poison and a leave of ones senses. He felt ill and sick; he knew there were depths men strove to for control--knew there were depths people fell too--but this was not something he ever thought possible and to be used upon someone such as Naplouse's victims--

(--upon himself--)

"They would claim I hold a garden of hedonistic pleasures, of women and wine and herbs to make you complicit in what I wish to have of you," Al Mualim said. "The truth of it matters little to them in their claims."

"Is it peace they seek, then?" Altair asked, gaze once more focused on Al Mualim. "With--with herbs and bribes and such extortion?"

Al Mualim hummed, thoughtful, and settled himself back into his seat as he thought. "Perhaps, after some fashion, it is a peace they seek--"

Altair jolted; perhaps they could be educated. He leaned forward, eager as he said, "Then if we told them--"

"--but it is not a peace we agree with, Altair," Al Mualim interrupted, words suddenly sharp. "If they were to believe we too sought a peaceful resolution then we could not comfortably perform the acts we need to."

Altair backed down, chastised, head bowed in thought, before he nodded once in understanding.

"Good. Now, if that is all, you may go." Al Mualim waved his hand, and Altair got to his feet quietly.

Altair raised his hand to the sky as he stared at the sun from the rooftops of Jerusalem; he was exhausted. Between his mind which wanted to continue to overturn the idea that these Templars they fought again sought peace--albeit in a way that really was unfavorable to the people--and the idea that if they could be educated then perhaps there would not need be violence or war; his body was tired, run ragged over the past few weeks with nonstop work and little answers and little sleep. There were those who thought Altair had little in the way of needs; sleep was a big need that Altair had functionally little of, and he doubted he'd get a chance for more until his Nine were done.

With a deep and heavy breath Altair pushed himself onward toward the rooftop of the new Bureau--Al Mualim had given him the location as an afterthought, something about the Apothecary no longer being a viable location. Altair wasn't fully abreast of the issue--he wasn't really an Assassin any longer for all the Master kept saying he gained a rank back--a rank of what always nagged at Altair. A rank of respect or a rank of skill or some other unidentifiable rank that Altair hadn't been aware of? He merely knew that truthfully he wasn't an Assassin, he was a tool and a killer yes, but an Assassin he wasn't any longer. The Master had made that clear after he'd woken him from his faked death.

The sigil of the Brotherhood was a fairly good indicator that Altair had the proper place; the latticework that covered the garden when the guards were actively hunting within the city was opened for ease of entrance, too. Altair crouched at the lip of the roof, ready to tumble down and get on with this farce of an assignment when he heard the voices--heard Malik.

"--and make sure the tea isn't scalding!" Malik had called. "He does not need another ache upon the one with his head, Jawad!"

"Yes, Dai!"

Al Mualim had not told Altair that this was were he sent Malik. He had not told Altair that Malik held position at a Bureau now, that he had Novices to care for and look after, that he put Malik to work in the most dangerous city with only one arm and Novices--but it felt good, too, to hear Malik's voice. Altair dropped from his crouch to sit on the edge and leaned forward, hands pressed to balance him. He closed his eyes and listened.

"Hush," Malik's words were soft, kind and gentle as he spoke. "This is the coolest place in the whole Bureau, child. The lighting here will help. Now lay down--no, keep the cloth over your eyes, it will help. That's better. Jawad will be back with the tea soon--just rest for now. It will get better." Malik shuffled about, and there was something soft and childish and faint, a whine or words that Altair could not quite make out but that was fine--he wasn't interested in some child as he was in Malik. "I will be right here, I promise. Just rest. Let the incense and the quiet do its work."

Malik went quiet after that; the only sound soft shuffling and the sound of paper moving. A door opened and presumably the tea Malik called for had been brought--but Malik was quiet and the door closed again and it was back to soft sounds of shuffling and paper moving. Altair opened his eyes and felt himself fully relax, a small smile played at the corners of his lips. Malik was well, bossing around Novices and tending to them with the grace of a mother cat. A bit of the stress left Altair at the thought; this was Malik in his element. This was where he was always meant to be.

It was good; Altair stretched and dropped from the ceiling. He wanted to slip into that twilight world and see all of Malik's colors--to be comforted in them--but the walls would only hinder him and if the Bureau was as dark as Malik implied then it'd be near worthless to even try.

"Mm?" Malik hummed, and Altair stilled as he moved forward. "I thought I told you to close your eyes, Desmond."

"I aaaaam," the plain whine of a child; Altair blinked and held himself still. There should be no Novices that young at a Bureau. "S'just bright. An loud."

"Then I will tell them to quiet," Malik said, "but you should be resting. Or does your head feel better already?"

"Nnooo?"

"Then rest."

Altair stood stock still, eyes wide beneath the cowl of his hood; he could catch the faint scent of the incense, familiar in the way that he often had it burned at his bedside table when his eyes refused to work because the twilight world was too strong and it made everything ache. It was out of character, but Altair hesitated. He hesitated to enter the room because then he would see Malik--he would speak to Malik and the last they had seen one another Malik had been whole and his brother alive and they'd been fighting. His fist clenched at his sides and he angled his gaze toward the ground. Were they still fighting? Altair didn't know. He didn't even know why Malik was upset, really. It had all seemed to work perfectly natural to Altair--so why had Malik gotten so upset about everything?

It took a second longer, the child muttered something but Altair was too far in his head to hear it--and the soft reply of Malik was nothing more than sweet sounds and less words to the scrambled mind of Masyaf's Eagle until Altair shook himself free of his circling thoughts and pushed himself forward into the Bureau.

It was dark; Altair knew it would be as Malik had referenced so. The incense burned lightly on the counter, but the rest of the room was rather bare. Books lined the walls and Malik was thumbing through them, categorizing or organizing Altair couldn't quite tell in the dark. He moved quickly to the counter but saw no sign of the child he heard Malik speaking with--perhaps they had snuck their way back inside the house proper, through the door. It didn't matter, though, because here was Malik, as whole as he could be dressed in rich black and fulfilling a role Altair had only dreamed of.

Altair stepped up to the edge and breathed, and without thought the words came spilling from him were a soft, "Safety and peace, Malik."

Malik's back stiffened and Altair took a quick step back as he remembered his own silent footsteps and the fact that they were fighting only a second too late. He held his breath as Malik turned, eyes narrowed and words sharp yet quiet as he said quite vehemently, "Your presence here deprives me of both." Altair stilled, ducked his head, and waited in silence. A moment later Malik sighed, heavy, and said a short, "What do you want?"

Altair floundered; what did he want? He wanted Malik to not be angry with him, but there was a month of time lost between them in the way of that. There was an arm and Kadar in the way of that. He breathed out a slow and steady breath and thought of his Nine--he didn't want his Nine, he didn't care about the ranks or the popularity or Al Mualim's favor. He wanted Malik but he couldn't have that comforting comradery. Not now.

"Al Mualim has--" Altair started and then stopped when Malik held his hand up, eyes narrowed in Altair's direction. For a second Altair drifted, feet shuffled as he swayed unsure of what he said that upset Malik now.

"You have been sent on a task to redeem yourself, is that what you are about to tell me?" Malik asked, words biting. "I do not care for the story. Be out with your task or leave. I do not have time to pander to your ego." Altair opened his mouth to speak again when Malik raised his hand and pressed his lips together. "You will speak of only your task?" Altair nodded once, slowly. "Then speak."

"I am here to kill a man named Talal," Altair said, voice even and calm despite the fact that his heart rabbited in his chest and his palms felt sweaty and his stomach was up in his throat--

"And?" Malik gestured, looked around. "What information have you brought me, then? What news of this Talal that you have sought out? Come, surely you remember?" Altair opened his mouth, then closed it when he realized he thought better of the choices. Malik pinched the bridge of his nose, muttered a short, "Of course not," and turned from the counter. Altair watched him focus on the books, posture tense as he uttered a short, "It is your duty to find and kill this man, Altair. I am not to house all the answers."

Altair knew this; he faced this with the others in Acre and Damascus and--he'd forgotten when he heard Malik's voice. Altair ducked his head and stepped back as he realized there would be no help here. The fighting between them, the gap of time between them--Altair had fooled himself into thinking that seeing Malik would make things make sense again.

"If you will not help me I will be on my way," Altair said, words short and hands clenched at his side.

"I did not say I would not help," Malik snapped out and Altair paused as he moved to leave. Malik didn't look at him, though, and Altair felt all the more confused about it. Was Malik so upset with Altair that even seeing his face made the other sick? Altair blinked, rapidly, to fight the way his eyes wanted to water. He hadn't cried since he was a child and he wasn't about to start now. "There are three places where information about your target may be found. South in the markets between the Muslim and Jewish districts; north near the mosque in this district; east, in front of St Anne's Church near the Bab Ariha gate."

Altair hummed a response, not sure what to say in this moment. Thanks should be enough, but with the tenseness to Malik's shoulders and the way he refused to look at him Altair decided not speaking was the far better option. He shifted, angled to leave.

"The garden is open to you," Malik said, well aware what the slight scuff of Altair's boots on the ground meant. "If you need food or water ask and I will have Jawad bring you something."

Without another word Altair left and closed himself off once more.

Malik breathed out, shaky and unsure just what had happened, heart clenched like a vice and the rest of him so damn cold. He'd spoke to a ghost; a dead man had walked into his Bureau safe as can be, spoke words to him with a face that was not his and a voice that wanted to spear Malik's heart--with a swagger that hurt to see--and Malik wasn't sure what to make of it other than--Altair was dead. Malik both wanted to drink in the form and face of someone gone from this world--the familiar scar across his lips, the way his eyes were honeyed and warm without that second sight, the missing finger of his left hand--how the robes clung to him like a second skin--and he wanted to scream because how dare they? How dare they make him relieve the death of a man who did not deserve it?

"Papa?" Desmond mumbled and Malik shuttered his thoughts, wiped at the tears in his eyes, and quickly turned and crouched down. Desmond peered up at him with the reflective eyes of his second sight and Malik wanted to wince at it--he'd told the boy the rest his eyes. This would not help his aching head Malik knew. "Why sad?"

Malik swallowed, and then settled himself on the floor behind counter and reached out to pet Desmond's head with his right hand. He readjusted the moist cloth so that it covered Desmond's eyes again as he said softly, "A ghost, Desmond."

"S'not a ghost," Desmond pouted; his head must feel better, Malik noted, because he was more lively now and less churlish. "He was sad too."

Malik breathed out slowly and let the contradiction lie because it made little sense. Altair had been put to blade by Al Mualim himself; Kareem had said so and Kareem had little reason to lie to Malik's face about such matters. The others in Masyaf spoke about it--about how public it was. The way some Brothers had chance to hold Altair down and took joy in it--joy in how he struggled, joy in the sight of the blade parting flesh--it made Malik sick. Altair should right and truly be dead after that and if he wasn't--if he wasn't it meant he took Al Mualim's blade and survived and Al Mualim had told nobody the specifics. Which meant that truly was Altair and not a brother with a similar face and a similar voice to trick Malik's mind. It meant Malik grieved a man who lived and did not--did not dare come to see him?

Could Altair even have come to see Malik? Malik didn't know the man's condition. He seemed fit, seemed well, despite the actions that should have killed him. He was quieter, certainly. Altair had pensive moments where his voice failed him and he would speak less on things and in this moment it seemed that. He'd closed off, too, toward the end--focused, accepting. Malik's hand shook as he remembered offering the garden and nothing more and he thought--he breathed out slow and steady.

"Not a ghost, child?" Malik asked, words light.

"Mm," Desmond hummed. "He's sad an' confused an' there's so much much," Desmond's words were jumbled and quick and he couldn't seem to get out what he wanted to say so he gestured large with his arms until they hit Malik in the stomach lightly, "'bout you."

"Me?" Malik blinked, surprised--but then should he have been? Altair and he had been fighting, certainly, because Altair was an ass who could not see his head for his face--but that couldn't have been it. Not with how long it took the man to come down from the roof and enter into the building. Malik had honestly thought it'd been Faheem again, come to harass him and he'd been ready to throw the man out on his ear if need to.

Instead the man to walk through his door had been a ghost and Malik too struck dumb by it to do anything more than--than be a bitter asshole at the reminder. Malik sighed heavily and said a soft, "I was told he died."

"Oh." Desmond pushed the cloth off his face and peered up at Malik with tired eyes. "M sorry? But. He's not dead."

"No," Malik agreed, "he is most certainly not." Malik peered down at Desmond, and then lightly tapped the child on the nose and watched the way Desmond's face scrunched up at the gesture. "How is your head?"

"Um. Better."

The empty cup of tea rested in the corner of the little nook Malik had put together for Desmond when his head started to hurt. He gestured to the cup with a raised brow, "The tea help?" Desmond hummed, but didn't nod his head. Not perfect, then. "Good. Back inside for you, then, but only to bed." For a moment he got a churlish look in response that Malik could only smile at. "None of that now, Desmond. My friend will be quick and return soon--you said he was bright. I do not want you to upset your head any more than it is. The bedroom should be dim, and I will make sure some incense is there for you."

Desmond huffed, mumbled a faint, "Fiiiiine," and wrapped himself in the blankets Malik had used to create the nest for him. He looked rather cute all bundled up in cloth with only a tuft of his curly hair peeking out and gold-bright eyes squinting at the world. Malik placed the cloth back on top of Desmond's head and escorted him to the door with a faint chuckle, only pause when Desmond stopped walking to look up at Malik with a frown. "Talk to him, papa?"

Malik paused, looked at Desmond. "I will try," he said in response; and he would, but sometimes talking to Altair was like talking to brick--impossible. Desmond nodded, then groaned at the action, and slipped through the door back into the house proper.

#fic: run it again #assassins creed #altair ibn la'ahad #malik al sayf #desmond miles #fanfic #time travel #altmal #altmal raises baby desmond #wip #fic: the heir the reader and clay

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"Operation Vijay (1999)" redirects here. For the 1961 Indian operation, see Annexation of Goa.

The Kargil War, also known as the Kargil conflict,[note (I)] was an armed conflict between India and Pakistan that took place between May and July 1999 in the Kargil district of Kashmir and elsewhere along the Line of Control (LOC). In India, the conflict is also referred to as Operation Vijay (Hindi: विजय, literally "Victory"), which was the name of the Indian operation to clear the Kargil sector.[22] The Indian Air Force's role in acting jointly with Indian Army ground troops during the war was aimed at flushing out regular and irregular troops of the Pakistani Army from vacated Indian Positions in the Kargil sector along the Line of Control.[23] This particular operation was given the code name Operation Safed Sagar (Hindi: ऑपरेशन सफेद सागर, lit. "Operation White Sea").

Kargil WarPart of the Indo-Pakistani wars and conflicts and the Kashmir conflict

Indian soldiers in Batalik during the warDate3 May – 26 July 1999

(2 months, 3 weeks and 2 days)Location

Kargil district, Jammu and Kashmir (now Ladakh), India

Result

Decisive Indian victory[1][2][3][4][5]

India regains possession of Kargil

Territorial

changesStatus quo ante bellumBelligerents India PakistanCommanders and leaders K. R. Narayanan

(President of India)

 Atal Bihari Vajpayee

(Prime Minister of India)

 Gen Ved Prakash Malik

(Chief of the Army Staff)

 Lt Gen Chandra Shekhar

(Vice Chief of the Army Staff)

 ACM Anil Yashwant Tipnis

(Chief of the Air Staff) Muhammad Rafiq Tarar

(President of Pakistan)

 Nawaz Sharif

(Prime Minister of Pakistan)

 Gen Pervez Musharraf

(Chief of the Army Staff)

 Lt Gen Muhammad Aziz Khan

(Chief of the General Staff)

 ACM Pervaiz Mehdi Qureshi

(Chief of the Air Staff)Strength30,0005,000Casualties and losses

Indian official figures

527 killed[6][7][8]

1,363 wounded[9]

1 Pilot (K Nachiketa) held as prisoner of war [10]

1 fighter jet shot down

1 fighter jet crashed

1 helicopter shot down

Pakistani claims

1,600 (as claimed by Musharraf)[11]

Independent figures

700 casualties[12]

Pakistani figures

453 killed (Pakistan army claim)[13][14]

Other Pakistani claims

357 killed and 665+ wounded (according to Pervez Musharraf)[15][16]

2,700–4,000 killed (according to Nawaz Sharif)[12][17]

Indian claims

737-1,200 casualties[18][19][20]

1,000+ wounded[21]

The cause of the war was the infiltration of Pakistani soldiers disguised as Kashmiri militants into positions on the Indian side of the LOC,[24] which serves as the de facto border between the two states. During the initial stages of the war, Pakistan blamed the fighting entirely on independent Kashmiri insurgents, but documents left behind by casualties and later statements by Pakistan's Prime Minister and Chief of Army Staff showed involvement of Pakistani paramilitary forces,[25][26][27] led by General Ashraf Rashid.[28] The Indian Army, later supported by the Indian Air Force, recaptured a majority of the positions on the Indian side of the LOC infiltrated by the Pakistani troops and militants. Facing international diplomatic opposition, the Pakistani forces withdrew from the remaining Indian positions along the LOC.

The war is the most recent example of high-altitude warfare in mountainous terrain, and as such posed significant logistical problems for the combating sides. It is also the sole instance of direct, conventional warfare between nuclear states (i.e., those possessing nuclear weapons). India had conducted its first successful test in 1974; Pakistan, which had been developing its nuclear capability in secret since around the same time, conducted its first known tests in 1998, just two weeks after a second series of tests by India.

Location



Location of the conflict

Before the Partition of India in 1947, Kargil was a tehsil of Ladakh, a sparsely populated region with diverse linguistic, ethnic and religious groups, living in isolated valleys separated by some of the world's highest mountains. The Indo-Pakistani War of 1947-1948 concluded with the Line of Control bisecting the Ladakh district, with the Skardu tehsil going to Pakistan (now part of Gilgit-Baltistan).[29] After Pakistan's defeat in the Indo-Pakistani War of 1971, the two nations signed the Simla Agreement promising not to engage in armed conflict with respect to that boundary.[30]

The town of Kargil is located 205 km (127 mi) from Srinagar, facing the Northern Areas across the LOC.[31] Like other areas in the Himalayas, Kargil has a continental climate. Summers are cool with frigid nights, while winters are long and chilly with temperatures often dropping to −48 °C (−54 °F).[32]

An Indian national highway (NH 1) connecting Srinagar to Leh cuts through Kargil. The area that witnessed the infiltration and fighting is a 160-kilometre (100 mi) long stretch of ridges overlooking this only road linking Srinagar and Leh.[24] The military outposts on the ridges above the highway were generally around 5,000 m (16,000 ft) high, with a few as high as 5,485 m (18,000 ft).[33] Apart from the district capital, Kargil, the populated areas near the front line in the conflict included the Mushko Valley and the town of Drass, southwest of Kargil, as well as the Batalik sector and other areas, northeast of Kargil.

Kargil was targeted partly because the terrain was conducive to the preemptive seizure of several unoccupied military positions.[34] With tactically vital features and well-prepared defensive posts atop the peaks, a defender on the high ground would enjoy advantages akin to that of a fortress. Any attack to dislodge a defender from high ground in mountain warfare requires a far higher ratio of attackers to defenders,[35] and the difficulties would be exacerbated by the high altitude and freezing temperatures.[36]

Kargil is just 173 km (107 mi) from the Pakistani-controlled town of Skardu, which was capable of providing logistical and artillery support to Pakistani combatants. A road between Kargil and Skardu exists, which was closed in 1949.[37]

Background



The town of Kargil is strategically located.

After the Indo-Pakistani War of 1971, there had been a long period with relatively few direct armed conflicts involving the military forces of the two neighbours – notwithstanding the efforts of both nations to control the Siachen Glacier by establishing military outposts on the surrounding mountains ridges and the resulting military skirmishes in the 1980s.[38] During the 1990s, however, escalating tensions and conflict due to separatist activities in Kashmir, some of which were supported by Pakistan,[39][40][41][42][43][44][45] as well as the conducting of nuclear tests by both countries in 1998, led to an increasingly belligerent atmosphere. In an attempt to defuse the situation, both countries signed the Lahore Declaration in February 1999, promising to provide a peaceful and bilateral solution to the Kashmir conflict.

During the winter of 1998–1999, some elements of the Pakistani Armed Forces were covertly training and sending Pakistani troops and paramilitary forces, some allegedly in the guise of mujahideen, into territory on the Indian side of the LOC. The infiltration was codenamed "Operation Badr";[46][47][48] its aim was to sever the link between Kashmir and Ladakh, and cause Indian forces to withdraw from the Siachen Glacier, thus forcing India to negotiate a settlement of the broader Kashmir dispute. Pakistan also believed that any tension in the region would internationalise the Kashmir issue, helping it to secure a speedy resolution. Yet another goal may have been to boost the morale of the decade-long rebellion in Jammu and Kashmir by taking a proactive role.

Pakistani Lieutenant General Shahid Aziz, and then head of ISI analysis wing, has confirmed there were no mujahideen but only regular Pakistan Army soldiers who took part in the Kargil War.[49] "There were no Mujahideen, only taped wireless messages, which fooled no one. Our soldiers were made to occupy barren ridges, with hand held weapons and ammunition", Lt Gen Aziz wrote in his article in The Nation daily in January 2013.[50]

Some writers have speculated that the operation's objective may also have been retaliation for India's Operation Meghdoot in 1984 that seized much of Siachen Glacier.[51]

According to India's then army chief Ved Prakash Malik, and many scholars,[52][53] much of the background planning, including construction of logistical supply routes, had been undertaken much earlier. On several occasions during the 1980s and 1990s, the army had given Pakistani leaders (Zia ul Haq and Benazir Bhutto) similar proposals for infiltration into the Kargil region, but the plans had been shelved for fear of drawing the nations into all-out war.[54][55][56]

Some analysts believe that the blueprint of attack was reactivated soon after Pervez Musharraf was appointed chief of army staff in October 1998.[46][57] After the war, Nawaz Sharif, Prime Minister of Pakistan during the Kargil conflict, claimed that he was unaware of the plans, and that he first learned about the situation when he received an urgent phone call from Atal Bihari Vajpayee, his counterpart in India.[58] Sharif attributed the plan to Musharraf and "just two or three of his cronies",[59] a view shared by some Pakistani writers who have stated that only four generals, including Musharraf, knew of the plan.[lMusharraf, however, asserted that Sharif had been briefed on the Kargil operation 15 days ahead of Vajpayee's journey to Lahore on 20 February.

[larevistadelinsti]

Una experiencia positiva por Nuria Asghar Rafiq de 4º C

Nuria de 4º C viajó con el proyecto Erasmus a Portugal y no explica su experiencia positiva.

Os hablaré de la más reciente. El dos de febrero fui de Erasmus a Portugal con el instituto.Es gracioso recordar que con tan solo llegar al aeropuerto de Barcelona ya tenía ganas de volver y aún ni siquiera me había ido.Mis nervios me acompañaron durante todo el viaje.

Pero, en cuanto conocí la familia que me iba a acoger, se me fueron un poco los nervios, aunque en un principio era difícil comunicarse con ellos, ya que no sabían inglés.

El primer día en la escuela fue algo incómodo, todos no paraban de mirarme, tanto a mi como a mis compañeros, no se les daba bien esto de ser sutil. Por otro lado, debo mencionar que amaba el paisaje, por las mañanas podía ver las nubes rosadas con tonos rojos, podía ver la niebla, ver un montón de montañas y sentir el frío.

Durante mi primer y segundo día pude conocer a mucha gente, eran muy amables y cariñosos.En Portugal, también nos llevaron a Oporto y a Guimarães. Me encantaron ambas ciudades, pero en especial me gustó Oporto. 

También  he de mencionar la comida que comí el primer día, francesinha. Un plato que puede parecer simple pero es realmente bueno, una de las comidas más típicas del país.

Pasaron tantas cosas que es difícil explicarlo en tan solo un texto, pero lo positivo es que:

Conocí gente nueva, hice muchos amigos con los que prometí ir a verlos algún día, pude tomar fotos, aprendí un poco de portugués y al día de hoy lo sigo haciendo ya que me mantengo en contacto con ellos.

Después de todo lo vivido no quería volver.

Esta es mi experiencia positiva, una que nunca olvidaré.

[wallacejwriting]

I also slightly tweaked Luthor (TOP) and Rafiq (BELOW). Old designs on the left, new designs on the right.

#writeblr #wip: farsiders #wall talk #c: rafiq #c: luthor

[3ilm-an-nafi3-blog]

"What is the definition of Tawhīd and what are its types?"

Question:

"What is the definition of Tawhīd and what are its types?"

The answer:

"The comprehensive definition of Tawhīd comprising all of its types is: 

[A] The knowledge and belief of the servant, his acknowledgement and his faith in His Lord being singled out with every attribute of perfection, and his uniqueness in that 

[B] and the belief that there is no partner [Shareek] or like [Matheel] for Him in His perfection and [C] [the belief] that He holds [the right] of 'Uloohiyyah [devotion, worship] and 'Uboodiyyah [worship, servitude] over all of His creation. Thereafter, to single Him out with the types of worship.

Hence, the three types of Tawhīd enter into this definition, the first of them is Tawhīd al-Ruboobiyyah, which is the acknowledgement of the Lord being singled out in creating [Khalq], providing [Rizq], regulating [Tadbīr] and nurturing [Tarbiyyah]. The second, Tawheed ul-Asmā wal-Sifaat, which is to affirm everything that Allāh affirme for Himself or His Messenger Muhammad [sall Allaahu 'alayhi wa sallam] affirmed for Him, of beautiful names, and whatever attributes [are indicated] by these names, without resembling or likening them [to those of the creation], and without distorting them or denying them. The third, Tawhīd ul-'Ibādah, which is to single out Allāh alone with all of the types of worship and their categories, and to make them only [for Allāh] and sincerely for Allāh without making anyone as a partner in anything from them. So these are the categories of Tawhīd, a servant cannot be a Muwahhīd [true monotheist] unless he holds fast to them and acts [in accordance] with them."

[Su'āl wa Jawāb Fī Ahimml-Muhimmāt in al-Majmoo'ah al-Kāmilah of Shaykh al-Sa'dī, (3/61) | Translated by Abu Iyād Amjad Rafiq]

[rmg171]

[harpianews]

India vs Australia Warm Up Match Live Updates: India will take on Australia at the Gabba in the practice match

India vs Australia Warm Up Match Live Updates: India will take on Australia at the Gabba in the practice match

India vs Australia Live Streaming & Updates: Here are the two squads. Australia captain Aaron Finch, left, India captain Rohit Sharma, center congratulates India and Australia on the victory in the second T20 cricket match between India and Australia in Nagpur, India, Friday, September 23, 2022. (AP photo/Rafiq Maqbool) Australia squad: Aaron Finch (c), Matthew Wade (w), David Warner, Mitchell…

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[jmientrance]

#Stanford #University, #USA has included 16 researches from India in the #prestigious global list of Top 2 Facilitated #Scientists of the world. This list has been prepared through a team of experts led by Professor John Ioannidis, #Eminent #Professor at Stanford University. It is published by Elsevier BV, a world renowned university. All these 16 researchers are related to #Jamia #Millia Islamia (JMI). Jamia professor included in two classes A total of 3352 researchers from India made it to the list, which represents the country's valuable influence on the global research platform. Two separate lists were released by Stanford University. The first prestigious list is based on career-long data in which 08 JAMIA MILLIA ISLAMIA professors made their place. The #Institute has 16 scientists in the second list of performance for the year 2020. Scientists are categorized into 22 scientific fields and 176 sub-fields. The career-long data is updated till the end of 2020. The selection is based on the top 100,000 by C-score or the percentile rank of 2 percent or more. These researchers of Jamia achieved this position Jamiap Prof. Imran Ali, Prof. Atikur Rahman, Prof. Anjan A. Sen, Prof. Haseeb Ahsan, Prof. Mr. Sushant Ghosh, Prof. s. Ahmed, Prof. Tauqeer Ahmed and Dr. Mohammad Imtiaz have been included in both the prestigious lists. In the list of top 2 percent scientists, Prof. Abid Haleem, Prof. Rafiq Ahmed, Prof. Tabrez Alam Khan, Prof. NS. Javed, Prof. Arshad Noor Siddiqui, Prof. Musheer Ahmed, Prof. Faizan Ahmed and Prof. Tariqul Islam has been included. Via: @jmientrance This is the approval of high level research of Jamia: Vice Chancellor Jamia Vice Chancellor Professor Najma Akhtar has said that this is an acknowledgment of the high level research being done in Jamia. This recognition puts the University on the global map of excellence and is a matter of great pride for the Institute. (at Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi) https://www.instagram.com/p/CV51SVuPO78/?utm_medium=tumblr

#stanford #university #usa #prestigious #scientists #eminent #professor #jamia #millia #institute

[imran-hyd]

❝Definition of Tawheed and its types❞ ❝The comprehensive definition of Tawheed comprising all of its types is: [A] The knowledge and belief of the servant, his acknowledgement and his faith in His Lord being singled out with every attribute of perfection, and his uniqueness in that [B] and the belief that there is no partner [Shareek] or like [Matheel] for Him in His perfection and [C] [the belief] that He holds [the right] of Uloohiyyah [devotion, worship] and Uboodiyyah [worship, servitude] over all of His creation. Thereafter, to single Him out with the types of worship. Hence, the three types of Tawheed enter into this definition, the first of them is Tawheed al-Ruboobiyyah, which is the acknowledgement of the Lord being singled out in creating [Khalq], providing [Rizq], regulating [Tadbeer] and nurturing [Tarbiyyah]. The second, Tawheed ul-Asmaa wal-Sifaat, which is to affirm everything that Allaah affirme for Himself or His Messenger Muhammad [ﷺ] affirmed for Him, of beautiful names, and whatever attributes [are indicated] by these names, without resembling or likening them [to those of the creation], and without distorting them or denying them. The third, Tawhid ul-Ibaadah, which is to single out Allaah alone with all of the types of worship and their categories, and to make them only [for Allaah] and sincerely for Allaah without making anyone as a partner in anything from them. So these are the categories of Tawheed, a servant cannot be a Muwahhid [true monotheist] unless he holds fast to them and acts [in accordance] with them.❞ [Su'aal wa Jawaab Fee Ahimml-Muhimmaat in al-Majmoo'ah al-Kaamilah of Shaykh al-Sa'dee, (3/61) | Translated By Abu Iyaad Amjad Rafiq] https://www.instagram.com/p/CY38rF2lhqN/?utm_medium=tumblr