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justforbooks · 27 days

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Richard Serra, who has died aged 85, was a remarkable cultural figure – a sculptor who belonged to the generation of American minimalists, was associated with process art and made experimental films, yet evoked something of an earlier, more heroic age. The critic Robert Hughes described him as “the last abstract expressionist”.

Although this statement stretches the point, Serra’s interest in the processes of sculpture led him to some extravagant gestural acts that belie the severity of his grand public commissions. Weight and Measure, made in the early 1990s for what is now Tate Britain, exemplified his austere side, with its massive steel forms designed to counter the building’s overbearing classicism. However, some of his other works, such as the twisting, “torqued” structures installed at the Guggenheim in Bilbao in 2005, are positively baroque.

Curled around an existing sculpture, Snake, that was commissioned for the museum’s opening in 1997, these steel works, dominated by ellipses and spirals, articulate spaces in which the gallery visitor can wander. They are monumental enough to take on Frank Gehry’s grandiose architecture, but, with their patinated surfaces and curved forms, also have an intimate, sensual quality. Above all, Serra’s sculptures create a remarkable interaction with the public and a strong experience of gradual discovery – hence the installation’s title, The Matter of Time.

His works have proved popular with curators, but are not confined to museums. They have appeared in settings as diverse as the Tuileries garden in Paris, the Federal Plaza in New York, and the Qatari desert, attracting responses from intense admiration to a public inquiry. One of his sculptures, Fulcrum, was put up in 1987 at Broadgate outside Liverpool Street station in London. It manages to combine monumentality with fragility, made of weathered steel plates that appear to support each other precariously.

He was born in San Francisco into a family that provided a foundation for his later career as a sculptor in metal. His father, Tony, who was from Majorca, was a pipe-fitter in a naval shipyard. His mother, Gladys (nee Fineberg), who was the daughter of Jewish immigrants from Odessa, used to introduce her son as “Richard, the artist” and was, later, touchingly enthusiastic when he began to make his way in New York. Serra himself laboured in steel mills during his time as a student and subsequently, in 1979, made a compelling film, Steelmill/Stahlwerk, about German workers in the industry.

Serra began his studies in 1957 at the University of California in Berkeley, graduating from the institution’s Santa Barbara campus with a degree in English literature. He followed this in 1961 with a three-year course in painting at Yale University, New Haven – a period in which he also worked as a teaching assistant and as a proof-reader for Joseph Albers’s book Interaction of Color (1963). At Yale he encountered such luminaries as Philip Guston, Robert Rauschenberg, Ad Reinhardt and Frank Stella, before winning a fellowship that took him to Europe in 1964.

In Paris, Serra was profoundly impressed by the sculpture of Constantin Brâncuși, but in Florence the following year he continued to paint, producing coloured grids in timed conditions controlled by a stopwatch. It was only with his first exhibition, at the Galleria La Salita in Rome in 1966, that he made a definitive move away from painting, filling cages with live and stuffed animals.

After moving to New York in the same year, Serra initially survived by setting himself up as a furniture remover, together with his friends, the composers Philip Glass and Steve Reich. Serra’s artistic development at this time was rapid, moving from experiments with rubber, fibreglass and neon tubing to the metal sculpture for which he became renowned. He soon began his long-term association with the Leo Castelli Gallery in New York, in whose Warehouse annex he was photographed in 1969 throwing molten lead at the wall with a ladle.

In the same year Serra refined this procedure by splashing the metal against a small steel plate stuck into the corner of Jasper Johns’s studio. The “castings” produced when the lead cooled down were rough, expressive forms, but this project also inspired Serra to create more impersonal pieces, in which metal sheets were wedged into the angles of rooms, leaned against each other or pinned to the wall by lead pipes. His emphasis on objective phenomena – mass, gravity and other physical forces – can also be seen in his remarkable experimental films.

In Hand Catching Lead (1968), the hand is in fact the artist’s but it is shown disembodied, trying to grasp rather than cast pieces of falling lead, which it drops or misses altogether. The repetition of this fundamentally pointless act gives the film a serial quality, akin to the celluloid process itself.

Serra’s engagement with the cutting edge also led him to work with the land artists Robert Smithson and Nancy Holt. In 1970 he assisted them with Spiral Jetty at the Great Salt Lake in Utah and, after Smithson’s death in 1973, Serra helped to complete Amarillo Ramp in an artificial lake in Texas. His own site-specific sculptures included Spin Out: For Bob Smithson (1972-73), in the park-like surroundings of the Kröller-Müller Museum at Otterlo in the Netherlands. Here the three converging steel plates interacted with each other and their environment, exemplifying Serra’s aim that “the entire space becomes a manifestation of sculpture”.

The 1970s was a difficult decade in Serra’s life. In 1971 a worker was killed in an accident during the installation of one of Serra’s sculptures outside the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis. His five-year marriage to the artist Nancy Graves ended in 1970, and his mother’s suicide in 1977 was followed two years later by the death of his father. However, in that decade he also met his future wife, the art historian Clara Weyergraf, with whom he collaborated on Steelmill/Stahlwerk. Clara was also to play a vital role in shaping his sculpture, as well as giving her name to Clara-Clara, a powerful, curvilinear work that was installed in the Tuileries garden in 1983. The history of this piece exemplifies Serra’s problems in making site-specific art, since it was originally intended to feature in a show at the Pompidou Centre, but at a late stage was deemed to be too heavy.

Clara-Clara’s travails were minor in comparison to the controversies surrounding Tilted Arc, a sculpture 36 metres long, set up at the Federal Plaza in Manhattan in 1981. Condemned for being intrusive, a magnet for graffiti artists and even a security risk, it was eventually removed in 1989, four years after a public hearing in which a majority of witnesses had advocated its preservation.

Despite this setback, Serra’s career continued to flourish. He had two retrospectives, in 1986 and 2007, at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, which also devoted a permanent room to his monumental work Equal (2015), as well as major exhibitions at home and abroad. He showed frequently with his gallery, Gagosian, in London, New York and Paris, most recently in 2021.

In 2001 he received a Golden Lion for lifetime achievement at the Venice Biennale, in 2015 the Légion d’honneur in France and, three years later, the J Paul Getty Medal.

During his latter years, Serra became heavily involved with public projects in Qatar, above all the four steel plates, rising to over 14 metres and spanning more than a kilometre, erected west of Doha in 2014. Known as East-West/West-East, the work engages spectacularly with its surroundings, the gypsum plateaux of the Brouq nature reserve in the Dukhan desert. Serra himself described it as “the most fulfilling thing I’ve ever done”.

He is survived by Clara.

🔔 Richard Serra, artist, born 2 November 1938; died 26 March 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #richard serra #in memoriam

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butterflypark · 2 months

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If you're in any way blaming Hamas for the current Gaza genocide you're playing right into the hands of the israeli propaganda

This isn't me saying Hamas is good or anything (every resistance group should have your critical support. You can discuss who's good and bad at politics under a free Palestine ), I just want to debunk some common misinformation

"There was a ceasefire on October 6th"

The ceasefire claim is completely baseless. You can look up images of Gaza and the west bank before October 7th but even if there were somehow no bodies, blocking what's allowed into Gaza, the fact that 97% of the water is unfit for human consumption, the fact that israel is the only developed "state" that keeps children in prison and the fact that people aren't allowed in and out is not a ceasefire. It's the conditions of a concentration camp.

"Hamas could release the hostages for a ceasefire"

Hamas has suggested this multiple times and it's always been rejected. Hamas is also unable to return the hostages while israel is bombing the entirety of Gaza. Also a lot of you seem to think the hostage thing is a baseless evil people do evil things. In 2011 Hamas traded 1 Israeli soldier for 1027 Palestinian prisoners.

israel refuses to negotiate with them and again, even if I'm playing devil's advocate, it's always of the aggressors and the more powerful party to enforce a ceasefire.

"Hamas is the reason why the idf bombs Gaza"

No, the reason for the bombing is because israel is a settler colony, seller colonies don't exist without violence. Hamas is the excuse they use to bomb Gaza (when they killed the doctor Razan, they edited a video of her saying "I am a human shield for Hamas"). In the west bank settlers constantly kill Palestinian civilians, israel does nothing about these illegal settlements. There is no Hamas in the west bank. There was no Hamas before 1987 and Gaza was still a concentration camp.

"we don't negotiate with terrorists"

Yes we fucking do. This phrase comes from the terrorist George W Bush, who used this phrase to justify his bombing campaign against Iraq. The only way to stop terrorism is to negotiate.

Dropping bombs on their country, killing their parents, siblings, friends and people who look like them is the best advertising you can do for a terrorist group

#palestine #free palestine

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c-rowlesdraws · 2 years

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this is supposed to be my art-exclusive blog, BUT looked up this video to link to a friend and wound up watching half of it again because it’s so fascinating, and felt like I needed to share it. It’s a documentary about Kowloon Walled City produced by Austrian journalist and writer Hugo Portisch, filmed in the city itself in the summer of 1987 and released in 1989, four years before demolition of the city began. Today, the 6.4 acre area that once held a 14-story labyrinth of approximately 50,000 people is a public park.

the documentary is in German, with subtitles in English added by the uploader. The filmmakers’ perspective is frank in laying out the harshness of life in the city, and aims to be honest-- although the only direct interview is with a British missionary, the only white person in the whole film, and the narration makes blanket statements about broken families and an “every man for himself” attitude that contradict former residents’ own descriptions of an intensely close-knit community and households where several generations lived together, despite the tiny size of the city’s apartments. Despite these criticisms I’d make, the tone of the documentary is clearly sympathetic towards its subjects from beginning to end, and it’s a fascinating and emotional glimpse into a vanished world.

if you’ve heard about Kowloon Walled City and want to learn more, watch this thing! If you’re like me and you’ve been lowkey obsessed for years, also watch this thing! If you didn’t know about the city at all before now, you’re welcome, and watch this thing!

the uploader’s video description, which I’ve pasted below, contains additional information about the making of the documentary that adds more depth and context:

Credits go to cameraman Hamdani Milas. Christina Wesemann for creation and direction of the film and also to Hugo Portisch for production.

Milas was one of the people that helped filmed this 1989 documentary about the city. I spoke with him recently and he said that he is interested in a follow up video of some sort so we may expect something new on the way.

He mentioned how it was an incredibly tough shoot. They were a five person crew; himself as cinematographer, a camera assistant, focus-puller, sound recordist, a researcher, production assistant and the director, and a very nice Austrian lady who was most willing to collaborate and listen to crew suggestions.

They shot for 6 days continuously, 10-12 hours a day, at the height of the summer of 1987. He mentioned how it smelled very bad inside from the open drainage, the heat was stifling at plus 32ºC with little to no air circulation, also not knowing whether it was sewage or clean water dripping on their heads occasionally, they regularly had to wipe the camera and lens dry.

The claustrophobia- you could hardly turn around in some places with a 7kg Betacam SP camcorder on your shoulder. They had a tripod with them but hardly used it inside because there was nowhere to position it without blocking the narrow passageways.

They also frequently got lost and had to ask the locals for directions. Lunch was much-anticipated each day when they could take a break outside in the fresh air. After a day’s shoot they were absolutely dripping with sweat and the first thing they’d do after getting home was to put all their clothes straight in the wash and have a long shower. Working in those conditions was an immense challenge technically and physically but, as is often the case, none of that shows in the resulting footage.

Here we have a very interesting first hand account of what Hamdani Milas experienced in the walled city itself when he was filming this video. So by what he’s told me we can understand just how much of an incredible risk it was to film inside this city, even though it was near to when the city was demolished and the place was seen as safer it was still a high risk no go area.

I took it upon myself to re-sub the video as best as possible, the 4 part version is hard-subbed on a version of this film with very poor quality, the subs are also worded incorrectly in some places. So all I've done is re-subbed the whole thing and put it onto a better quality video clip.

Note: about the section of this video where Jackie Pullinger is speaking, I’m sure anyone can see the subtitles are a transcript of Jackie Pullingers actual words in English and not the narrators. I’ve noticed a comment mentioning how the subs are way off in that part. While subbing this video I realised the narrator wasn’t giving an exact translation so took it upon myself to decipher what she was actually saying over his voice. Sorry I just couldn’t help it but it was out of boredom 😉

#kowloon walled city #kowloon #hong kong #architecture #1980s

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erasure-picnic · 8 months

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This post will cover the difference in Erasure and Pet Shop Boys’ approaches to sexuality, and how this inspired feelings of animosity between them.

Another major difference between Erasure and Pet Shop Boys was the way they approached homosexuality, and sexuality in general, from 1985 to 1991. While both groups employed a camp aesthetic in their stage shows, they were otherwise very different.

From the start, Erasure were open about their sexualities: one of them was gay and the other was straight. Andy Bell discussed being gay in interviews with all sorts of publications, and was happy to answer questions on the topic. He felt that it was important for musicians to take a stance, and told Seventeen that “being gay and open about it is my substance”. Erasure also supported gay causes more visibly. They played at Pride events, contributed to AIDS fundraisers, gave interviews to the gay press, and spoke out against homophobia, along with bigotry of all kinds.

By contrast, PSB sidestepped questions about their sexualities, and were dismissive when asked directly about the subject. Throughout the 80s, they refused to discuss their “sex lives”, or use the word “gay” to describe themselves. According to some sources, they also avoided speaking to gay journalists, or only did so on the condition that they wouldn’t be asked about their private lives. They saw themselves as musicians, not activists, and objected to the idea of being “role models”. And apart from their appearance at “Before the Act” (an anti-Clause 28 benefit show), they almost never supported gay causes in the public eye. In fact, they often criticized artists who championed social causes.

Writers picked up on the differences in the two bands’ approaches. As early as 1987, they began comparing the groups on this front. At the same time, some gay artists and activists were frustrated by PSB’s silence on their sexualities, and pushed them to come out. Bell was one of those frustrated people, but he was also more sympathetic to PSB than some of their critics. When he talked about PSB to The Advocate in 1988, he acknowledged their fear and believed that they were loosening up on the subject.

By the early 90s, the push for PSB to come out had gotten more intense. Outside their April 1991 concert in Salt Lake City, gay activists handed out leaflets with PSB’s images on them, and there were several articles and quotes from people telling them it was their duty to be out.

This was the context of an interview published in May 1991, with PSB’s Neil Tennant speaking to gay magazine The Advocate–possibly the first time PSB had spoken to the gay press. To provoke Tennant to come out, the interviewer (Richard Laermer) asked him all sorts of questions, including about the criticisms that PSB had faced for not being more political and making pro-gay statements. Tennant said he didn’t admire that approach, and didn’t see PSB’s music as being limited to gays–and then added, “I don’t regard ourselves as being like Erasure.” Laermer hadn’t brought up Erasure at all.

When Laermer challenged him on his words, arguing that young gays were in need of role models, Tennant, who was getting very worked up, fired back, “I don’t agree with the concept of role models. I don’t. How could anyone say he’s a role model?” He was likely referring to Bell–who had never called himself a role model, but had been far more outspoken than PSB about gay causes and the need to come out.

These unprovoked jabs at Erasure were common for PSB, and made up their side of the “rivalry”. In the next post, we’ll examine their side, plus the ways the “rivalry” played out in bands’ fanbases.

#erasure #erasure band #pet shop boys #andy bell #vince clarke #erasure vs psb #pet shop boys vs erasure

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wlwcatalogue · 2 months

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Queer Women in Qing China: Chen Yun & Han Yuan in Six Records of a Floating Life

(Pak Suet Sin as Chen Yun (left) and Yam Kim Fai as Shen Fu (right) in Madam Yun, dir. Chu Kea, 1960)

Despite being written by a relatively unremarkable man, Shen Fu's (沈復) Qing-era autobiography Six Records of a Floating Life (浮生六記) captured the public imagination for its depiction of an unusually loving married couple - namely the author and his wife Yun - and for being very sad, because the wife died young after a protracted battle with illness and poverty. Their tragic tale has inspired films, TV series, stage plays, Chinese operas, and musicals.

But for some reason (spoiler alert: it's homophobia), as far as I can tell (see note 2 below the cut), the derivative media all fail to mention that while Yun certainly loved Shen Fu, there was also someone else she loved-- a female courtesan named Han Yuan, whom she convinced her husband to take on as concubine. Although there are only a few references to Han Yuan throughout the book, her impact is outsize, making her absence from the various adaptations all the more glaring.

So let's try to rectify things, shall we? Extracted here are all the references to the relationship between Yun and Han Yuan contained in Six Records of a Floating Life - although I haven't included all the other nods to Yun's fruitiness, so do check out the book in full - click below!

Overview

The happily married Chen Yun falls for the female courtesan Han Yuan and the two soon become sworn sisters (see note 1 below). Then, to ensure they can remain together, she manages to persuade her husband to take the latter as his concubine despite his protestations that they cannot afford another mouth to feed. This turns out to have unfortunate consequences: Yun's in-laws, who she was already on thin ice with, are highly critical of the two women's relationship, and have the married couple expelled from the familial home. Further, while Yun and her husband are living elsewhere, a wealthy man pressures Han Yuan into leaving and becoming his wife instead. Yun falls into despair and the heartbreak causes her already-delicate condition to deteriorate, leading to her eventual demise.

Note 1: Sworn kinship is the most widely-available Chinese custom allowing for the formalisation of a relationship between individuals of the same gender, other than those specifically hierarchical in nature (e.g. adoption, godparents, mentorship, etc.). While not primarily romantic in association, there is certainly precedent for it: arguably the most famous Chinese love story, The Butterfly Lovers, focuses on the romance between a man and a cross-dressing woman who swore an oath of brotherhood. Even after the latter reveals that she is female, there are repeated references to their oath, and the man continues to refer to her using familial terms (賢弟/"worthy younger brother" is simply switched to 賢妹/"worthy younger sister"). Note 2: As far as I can tell, Han Yuan really does never come up in the various derivative works. However, there is some (mostly very mild) hinting regarding the in-laws' disapproval stemming in part from Yun's failure to conform to cishet norms; at least three of the adaptations from Hong Kong take as the flashpoint an incident where Yun dresses as a man in order to enjoy the Mid-Autumn festivities with her husband (see the GIF in the header) and is discovered, despite it not having had any negative consequences in the book. (There is such a cross-dressing scene in the 2021 Kunqu opera adaptation, but for some reason, in that version, Yun seems to have been on great terms with her in-laws and there was no disownment at all.) AFAIK the only adaptation that explicitly deals with Yun's queerness is the 1987 dance production from Hong Kong, wherein the disownment happens after a scene which I'll just describe as "the Mid-Autumn Festival incident, but as a boat ride which Yun turns into a threesome between herself, the boat-girl, and her husband". This actually pulls from the source material, as there is a somewhat suggestive episode involving a boatsman's daughter (this is a few pages before Han Yuan is introduced - I did say Yun was fruity)... but it's interesting that the creators decided to depict her queerness through a drunken one-night stand where she's dressed in male clothing (which was not the case in the original, though the boat-girl does still know she's a woman in this version), instead of committing to her much deeper relationship with Han Yuan.

A (probably-incomplete) list of adaptations

Fei Mu/费穆’s 1943 stage play Six Records of a Floating Life/浮生六记 (PRC)

1947 film Six Records of a Floating Life/浮生六记 (PRC) – dir. Pei Chong/裴冲, starring Su Shi/舒适 and Sha Li/沙莉

1954 film Madam Yun/芸娘 (Hong Kong) – dir. Ng Wui/吳回, starring Cheung Wood-Yau/張活游 and Pak Yin/白燕 – full movie

1960 Cantonese opera film Madam Yun/芸娘 (Hong Kong) – dir. Chu Kea/珠璣, starring Yam Kim Fai/任劍輝 and Pak Suet Sin/白雪仙 – full movie; also see my posts on it here and here

1987 dance performance Six Records of a Floating Life/浮生六記 (Hong Kong) – dir. Chan Kai-Tak – full performance

Cantonese opera Shen San Bai and Madam Yun/沈三白與芸娘 (Hong Kong) – multiple productions from different theatre companies across the years – clip

1974 TV drama Madam Yun/芸娘 (Hong Kong)

Zhou Mian/周眠's 2018 Kunqu opera Six Records of a Floating Life/浮生六记 (PRC) – multiple productions – clip 1 | clip 2

Luo Zhou/罗周's 2021 Kunqu opera Six Records of a Floating Life/浮生六记 (PRC) – multiple productions – full performance (w/ English subtitles)

Tian Chenming/田辰明’s 2021 musical Six Records of a Floating Life/浮生六记 (PRC) – multiple productions – clip

2023 Peking opera Six Records of a Floating Life/浮生六记 (PRC) – assorted clips

Extracts from Six Records of a Floating Life, trans. Leonard Pratt and Chiang Su-Hui, 1983, Penguin Books

Part I – The Joys of the Wedding Chamber

(p.48)

In the seventh month of the Chiayen year of the reign of the Emperior Chien Lung I returned from Yuehtung with my friend Hsu Hsiu-feng, who was my cousin’s husband. He brought a new concubine back with him, raving about her beauty to everyone, and one day he invited Yun to go and see her. Afterwards Yun said to Hsiu-feng, “She certainly is beautiful, but she is not the least bit charming.”

“If your husband were to take a concubine,” Hsiu-feng asked, “would she have to be charming as well as beautiful?”

“Naturally,” said Yun.

“From then on, Yun was obsessed with the idea of finding me a concubine, even though we had nowhere near enough money for such an ambition.

(p.49)

[The courtesan Leng-hsiang] had a daughter named Han-yuan, who, though not yet fully mature, was as beautiful as a piece of jade. Her eyes were as lovely as the surface of an autumn pond, and while they entertained us it became obvious that her literary knowledge was extensive. She had a younger sister named Wen-yuan who was still quite small.

At first I had no wild ideas and wanted only to have a cup of wine and chat with them. I well knew that a poor scholar like myself could not afford this sort of thing, and once inside I began to feel quite nervous. While I did not show my unease in my conversation, I did quietly say to Hsien-han “I’m only a poor fellow. How can you invite these girls to entertain me?”

Hsien-han laughed. “It’s not that way at all. A friend of mine had invited me to come and be entertained by Han-yuan today, but then he was called away by an important visitor. He asked me to be the host and invite someone else. Don’t worry about it.”

At that, I began to relax. Later, when our boat reached Pantang, I told Han-yuan to go aboard my mother’s boat and pay her respects. That was when Yun met Han-yuan and, as happy as old friends at a reunion, they soon set off hand in hand to climb the hill in search of all the scenic spots it offered. Yun especially liked the height and vista of Thousand Clouds, and they sat there enjoying the view for some time. When we returned to Yehfangpin, we moored the boats side by side and drank long and happily.

(p.50)

As the boats were being unmoored, Yun asked me if Han-yuan could return aboard hers, while I went back with Hsien-yan. To this, I agreed. When we returned to the Tuting Bridge we went back aboard our own boats and took leave of one another. By the time we arrived home it was already the third night watch.

“Today I have met someone who is both beautiful and charming,” said Yun. “I have just invited Han-yuan to come and see me tomorrow, so I can try to arrange things for you.”

“But we’re not a rich family,” I said, worried. “We cannot afford to keep someone like that. How could people as poor as ourselves dare think of such a thing? And we are so happily married, why should we look for someone else?”

“But I love her too,” Yun said, laughing. “You just let me take care of everything.”

The next day at noon, Han-yuan actually came. Yun entertained her warmly, and during the meal we played a game – the winner would read a poem, while the loser had to drink a cup of wine. By the end of the meal still not a word had been said about our obtaining Han-yuan.

As soon as she left, Yun said to me, “I have just made a secret agreement with her. She will come here on the 18th, and we will pledge ourselves as sisters. You will have to prepare animals for the sacrifice.”

Then, laughing and pointing to the jade bracelet on her arm, she said, “If you see this bracelet on Han-yuan’s arm then, it will mean she has agreed to our proposal. I have just told her my idea, but I am still not very sure what she thinks about it all.”

I only listened to what she said, making no reply.

It rained very hard on the 18th, but Han-yuan came all the same. She and Yun went into another room and were alone there for some time. They were holding hands when they emerged, and Han-yuan looked at me shyly. She was wearing the jade bracelet!

We had intended, after the incense was burned and they had become sisters, that we should carry on drinking. As it turned out, however, Han-yuan had promised to go on a trip to Stone Lake, so she left as soon as the ceremony was over.

“She has agreed,” Yun told me happily. “Now, how will you reward your go-between?” I asked her the details of the arrangement.

(p.51)

“Just now I spoke to her privately because I was afraid she might have another attachment. When she said she did not, I asked her, “Do you know why we have invited you here today, little sister?”

““The respect of an honourable lady like yourself makes me feel like a small weed leaning up a great tree,” she replied, “but my mother has high hopes for me, and I’m afraid I cannot agree without consulting her. I do hope, though, that you and I can think of a way to work things out.””

“When I took off the bracelet and put it on her arm I said to her, “The jade of this bracelet is hard and represents the constancy of our pledge; and like our pledge, the circle of the bracelet has not end. Wear it as the first token of our understanding.” To which she replied, “The power to unite us rests entirely with you.” So it seems as if we have already won over Han-yuan. The difficult part will be convincing her mother, but I will think of a plan for that.”

I laughed, and asked her, “Are you trying to imitate Li-weng’s Pitying the Fragrant Companion?”

“Yes,” she replied.

(Footnote 44 of Part 1, p.153) The Lien Hsiang Pan, a play by Li Yu (1611-?1680). Li-weng was his literary name. Yun’s confirmation that she had this play in mind gives us our principal clue about just what her real relationship with Han-yuan may have been: the play tells the story of a young married woman who falls in love with a girl, and then obtains her as a concubine for her husband so the two women can be together. As van Gulik has pointed out, Imperial China regarded liaisons between women – as opposed to those between men – quite tolerantly. They did not by any means necessarily imply a lack of affection between such women and their husbands (R.H. van Gulik, Sexual Life in Ancient China, Humanities Press, 1974: he discusses female homosexuality on p.163, and the play itself on p.302, where he translates its title as Loving the Fragrant Companion.)

From that time on there was not a day that Yun did not talk about Han-yuan. But later Han-yuan was taken off by a powerful man, and all the plans came to nothing. In fact, it was because of this that Yun died.

Part III – The Sorrows of Misfortune

(p.76)

Yun had had the blood sickness ever since her younger brother Ko-chang had run away from home and her mother had missed him so much that she died of grief. Yun was so distraught she had fallen ill herself. From the time she met Han-yuan, she passed no blood for over a year, and I was delighted that Yun had found such a good cure in her friend, when Han-yuan was snatched away by an influential man who paid a thousand golds for her and also promised to take care of her mother. “The beauty belongs to Sha-shih-li!” I had learned of all this but had not dared to say anything to Yun, so she did not find out about it until one day when she went to see Han-yuan. She returned weeping, and said, “I had not thought Han’s feelings could be so shallow!”

“Your own feelings are too deep,” I said. “How can that sort of person be said to have feelings? Someone who is used to beautiful clothes and delicate foods could never grow accustomed to thorn hairpins and plain cloth dresses. It’s better that we should be unsuccessful now than to have her regret things later.”

I comforted her repeatedly, but having been so wounded Yun still suffered great discharges of blood. She was bedridden and did not respond to any treatment. She suffered relapses, and became so thin you could see her bones. After a few years the money we owed increased daily, and so did the gossip about us. And because she had pledged sisterhood with a sing-song girl, my parents’ scorn for Yun deepened daily.

(p.78)

[…] a messenger arrived. He had been sent by a woman who had been a sworn sister of Yun’s as a child, who had married a man named Hua from Hsishan, and who had heard of her illness and wanted to inquire after her.

My father, however, mistakenly thought he was a messenger from Han-yuan and so became even angrier, saying, “Your wife does not behave as a woman should, swearing sisterhood with a sing-song girl. Nor do you think to learn from your elders, running around with riff-raff. […]”

(p.79-80)

These were Yun’s parting instructions to our daughter: “Your mother has had a bitter fate and emotions that run too deep; therefore we have had many problems. Fortunately your father has been kind to me, and there is nothing to worry about in our leaving. […]”

(p.86)

I returned to find Yun moaning and weeping, looking as if something awful had happened. As soon as she saw me she burst out, “Did you know that yesterday noon [our servant] Ah Shuang stole all our things and ran away? I have asked people to search everywhere, but they still have not found him. […]”

(p.87)

[…] from then on she began frequently to talk in her sleep, calling out, “Ah Shuang has run away!” or “How could Han-yuan turn her back on me?” Her illness worsened daily.

Finally I was about to call a doctor to treat her, but she stopped me. “My illness began because of my terribly deep grief over my brother’s running away and my mother’s death,” said Yun. “It continued because of my affections, and now it has returned because of my indignation. I have always worried too much about things, and while I have tried my best to be a good daughter-in-law, I have failed.

These are the reasons why I have come down with dizziness and palpitations of the heart. The disease has already entered my vitals, and there is nothing a doctor can do about it. Please do not spend money on something that cannot help. […]”

[…]

(p.88)

Suddenly she fell silent and began to pant, her eyes staring into the distance. I called her name a thousand times, but she could not speak. Two streams of agonised tears flowed from her eyes in torrents, until finally her panting grew shallow and her tears dried up. Her spirit vanished in the mist and she began her long journey.

[…] Alas! Yun came to this world a woman, but she had the feelings and abilities of a man. After she entered the gate of my home in marriage, I had to rush about daily to earn our clothing and food, there was never enough, but she never once complained. When I was living at home, all we had for entertainment was talk about literature. What a pity that she should have died in poverty and after long illness. And whose fault was it that she did? It was my fault, what else can I say? I would advise all the husbands and wives in the world not to hate one another, certainly, but also not to love too deeply. As it is said, “An affectionate couple cannot grow old together”. My example should serve as a warning to others.

#sapphic #wlw #wlw recommendations #asian lgbtq #lgbt history #lgbtq history #lgbt literature #lgbtq literature #literature #chinese literature #six records of a floating life #浮生六記 #madam yun #芸娘 #celebrating chinese new year with queers in chinese literature #as one should

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oliviaberkeley · 5 months

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WHEN YOU KNOW WHAT A MAN WANTS YOU KNOW WHO HE IS, AND HOW TO MOVE HIM. INTRODUCTION — THE MANIPULATIVE — OLIVIA BERKELEY.

[ MARGOT ROBBIE — thirty’6 — SHE/HER ] Introducing OLIVIA BERKELEY. Word on the street is they are a HOUSEWIFE & HEIRESS, having been around for THIRTY-SIX years. Though they are PROUD and MANIPULATIVE, they can also be ARTICULATE and INTREPID. In the chaos of New York City, they’re sure to fit right in.

CHARACTER STATISTICS

— GENERAL.

Full Name: Olivia Audrey Berkeley, neé Madden. Nickname(s): Liv. Age: 36. Date of Birth: June 13th, 1987. Hometown: New York, NY. Current Location: Albany, NY. Ethnicity: Scottish, French. Nationality: American. Gender: Female. Pronouns: She/Her. Orientation: Heterosexual. Relationship Status: Married to Julian Berkeley. Religion: Catholic. Political Affiliation: Democratic. Occupation: Proud housewife, mother and philanthropist. She has done modeling gigs since she was a teenager as well and regularly appears as the cover model on some of the biggest and most influential magazine covers till this day. Living Arrangements: The New York State Executive Mansion. Language(s) Spoken: English, Spanish, conversational French & Italian.

— PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

Faceclaim: Margot Robbie. Hair Colour: Blonde hair that falls down to the small of her back; naturally dark brown. Hair Texture: Thick, wavy, soft. Eye Colour: Blue. Height: 5′7″. Weight: 126lbs. Build: In shape — toned and curvaceous. Tattoos: None. Piercings: Earlobes. Usual Expression: Amiable, welcoming. Distinguishing Characteristics: Eyes, full lips, long legs ( everything ).

— HEALTH.

Physical Ailments: None. Neurological Conditions: PTSD, Anxiety. Allergies: Penicillin. Sleeping Habits: Tends to sleep very well actually. Olivia is extremely disciplined and has a set schedule throughout her day; for her, rest is very integral. She’s in bed usually no later than 10pm ( save for the nights she has work, or various appearances to make ) and wakes up at 4am every morning, no exceptions. Eating Habits: Strict diet to maintain her health and figure, allows a cheat day on Sundays only. Exercise Habits: Exercises five days a week two-a-days. Mornings is focused on yoga, evenings are at the home gym. Emotional Stability: Steady, strong; she knows who she is and that has helped her quite a bit. Sociability: Very social, can light up a room. Body Temperature: Hot. Addictions: None. Drug Use: None. Alcohol Use: Socially mostly, she’ll have a scotch or wine at home if stressed or if she’s in the mood to get a little tipsy. Prefers to be in control of her faculties otherwise when in public.

— PERSONALITY.

Label: The Manipulative. Positive Traits: Self-disciplined, charming, active, reliable, intrepid, intelligent, compassionate, efficient, articulate, perceptive, ambitious. Negative Traits: Critical, sneaky, capricious, cunning, fierce, proud, manipulative, amoral, audacious, materialistic. Desires: To always be able to provide for her family and even those in need; to have power. Fears: Losing everything she built ( especially her family and Julian ), not having control.

— FAVORITES.

Weather: Winter. Landscape: Beaches. Color: Royal blue. Music: Alternative rock, some pop, old school hip hop and R&B, Rap, anything that catches her attention really. Movies: Thrillers, rom-coms, action films, horror, documentaries. Sport: None. Beverage: Lemon water. Food: Sushi. Animal: Cats, dogs.

— FAMILY.

Father: William Madden ( alive; 94 ). Mother: Bonnie O’Hara ( alive; 59 ), step-mothers; Cynthia Madden ( first ex-wife; deceased ), Elizabeth Madden ( second ex-wife; alive ), Persephone Madden ( third ex-wife; alive ). Upbringing: Chaotic, cold, overly extravagant, lonely, anxious. Sibling(s): half siblings; Christian Madden ( older; alive ), Jean Madden ( older; alive ), Helena Madden ( older; deceased ), Timothy Madden ( older; alive ), Frances Madden ( older; alive ), Dina Madden ( older; alive ), Belle Madden ( older; alive ), Victor Madden ( older; alive ), Willian Madden, Jr. ( older; alive ), Easton Madden ( older; alive ), full sibling; Lachlan Madden ( older; alive ). Children: Two — Lucas and Camila Berkeley. Pet(s): No, but definitely wants one. Family’s Financial Status: High end. Self Financial Status: High end.

— EXTRA.

Zodiac Sign: Gemini Sun, Capricorn Moon, Sagittarius Rising. MBTI: ENTJ. Primary Vice: Gluttony. Primary Virtue: Perseverance.

— STRENGTHS.

Mature; dignified; meticulously put together; responsible and reliable.

Discreet; a creative problem solver; a mostly ethical player of the political game.

A potent schmoozer; charming; pleasant sense of humor; well-spoken; polite.

Quietly authoritative; powerful; always projects confidence and control to others.

Focused; objective; does not second guess herself.

Sly; manipulative; perceptive; has a very specific reason for every decision she makes.

Worldly; lived in many cultures in many corners of the world; adapts to change quickly; self-sufficient and independent.

Graceful – moves fluidly and with effortless balance, even when not dancing.

Work ethic and dedication – “needs” stimulation of some kind constantly; keeps to a rigid schedule and is never late or absent; gives herself fully to her projects.

— WEAKNESSES.

Defensive; paranoid; frustrated; enraged behind closed doors; typically when blindsided.

Perfectionist; overly image conscious; very private.

Overworked; frequently exhausted; takes on more than she can handle; hyper-vigilant.

Controlling; has difficulty trusting other people to do their job; likes things done her way.

Fickle – in her personal life she can appear very hot and cold; hard to read; guarded due to people wanting to be in her presence for clout and the emotional abuse she suffered from her parents.

Indulgent; does not deny herself anything; frivolous.

Hungry – for inspiration, affection, attention, and power.

OVERVIEW

𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: mentions blackmail, emotional & physical abuse, and obsession.

Despite being the youngest and 11th child, Olivia is a heiress to the Madden family who raised their fortune building railroad and shipping empires during the rapid industrialization expansion of the late 19th century. In more recent decades, the family interest has shifted at the will of its current patriarch, Olivia’s father, towards mass media, real estate, pharmaceuticals, accelerating efforts in space travel, developing environmentally friendly power substitutes, progressing the technological discoveries of the next century and hospitality. Today William is the fourth wealthiest person in the world.

Olivia grew in up a world of extreme and almost outrageous luxury. With a family as affluent as her own, all of her elder siblings being visionaries with enough money and influence to change the world down the line wasn’t unrealistic at all. She also quickly learned that they all fought for “dear old daddy’s” attention and approval to be in his good graces. William, a ninety-four year old man from a completely different era, wasn’t the easiest or morally acceptable. He’d always been a miserable, powerful and stubborn old man with outdated beliefs — especially concerning women’s place in society and the working world in general. His daughters, though six of them, were not absolved from these beliefs and/or treatment most times. But really, his sons didn’t fair very well either from his physical and emotional abuse.

As such, Liv was taught at a very young age from her very ambitious mother how to appeal to her father: listen, perceive, and manipulate. Never show your true emotions as her father preyed on vulnerability. By the time she was a teenager, Olivia had William eating from the palm of her hand. A overly charming, beautiful little girl who acted precocious but knew more than she could ever be given credit for. She didn’t covet the same dreams that her older siblings had, not really wanting anything to do with the company in a career driven sense — however she did know that she wanted to maintain the status, power and luxury that came with being a Madden on her own terms.

As she grew, Olivia paved the way for herself. From a young age her mother emphasized the importance of an education, intending for her to attend university and earn several advanced degrees just to “be safe.” Though she did take her schooling seriously, even pursuing a career in criminal law ( she attended Harvard for a short while; tabloids saying that her father had paid for her to be accepted ), Olivia eventually dropped out and left it behind. Instead, she conceded that perhaps being a housewife wouldn’t be too bad. She’d always wanted family of her own; a nice large home, children running around but, more importantly, she needed someone who was ambitious — powerful like her daddy or who could one day grow to be as such.

Enter Julian. By the time they had met, Olivia had built a reputation for herself due to her glamorous lifestyle and the Madden name in general, which had earned her enduring popularity. However, Julian had built just as much as a reputation himself; and it didn’t hurt that it was all self-earned. ( re: it also didn’t hurt that he looked and commanded a room the way that he did ). The absolute nail in the coffin that secured her interest in him had been him confidently expressing to her that he would be the next President of the United States. They were married that same year; had their first child soon after.

As the years flew by, they continued to conquer the political world together, taking the world by storm. Being featured on various magazine covers, articles, etc. Olivia has created a name for herself as a loving mother and devoted wife, while also known for her luxurious lifestyle, setting fashion trends and for her immense role in various charities; being celebrated for her philanthropy.

tl;dr: she’s a toxic Princess Diana and Real Life Barbie Doll™.

LITTLE THINGS

Definitely resilient and extraordinary, difficult to frighten. Fanatically possessive and controlling of people and things that she considers ‘hers’ and will react violently at the slightest threat — especially where her children and Julian are concerned. She does not have much patience for being told no or being disrespected and has more than once fired, sued, or humiliated others for their failure to bend to her will. Though her father has a penchant for making all of this disappear quietly.

Extremely particular about being touched, especially in intimate areas, that stems from a fear of affection and vulnerability due to her parent's abuse. Before Julian, Liv would react aggressively to any physical contact from strangers, usually in the form of raucous verbal hostility. With friends she is significantly more tolerant though it is dependent on her mood whether she consents or resists. On the occasion that she consents, it is for that person only. Interference from others that were not invited into that freely given self exposure are met with extreme rage and opposition.

Has no clue that her husband is having an affair or all hell would break loose. She has a very unhealthy obsession with Julian, though, with him she doesn’t portray said toxic tendencies as much with him — preferring to shower him with support, love and affection. They are best friends after all, not just partners in life and love. When they argue ( which isn't much as their interests are often aligned ), she’s become cunning enough to know how to get her way, even if that means conceding for a little while. She maintains her role as the perfect quintessential housewife because of this as well; getting her body back into shape after having their children, expertly maintaining and personally designing their home, making sure that she’s always dressed to the nines, welcoming his work relationships and friends like family of her own, hosting various lavish personal events. Though it’s not terribly far from who she had already been before him, always having her ear out to listen for any important information pertaining to his work. She’d always been focused on her image having such a high profile and all.

A wonderful and extremely attentive mother who is very involved with her children 90% of the time ( basically when she's not out of the state or hosting or doing cover shoots ). Being a mother has changed her significantly for the better.

Consistently followed or hounded by paparazzi. Also almost always in the tabloids. Has been entertaining the idea of starting her own wellness and lifestyle company ( not unlike Goop, but with actual products and treatments that are nourishing and scientifically proven to be as such — ps: fuck Gwyneth Paltrow ).

Not a horrible person at all, but very morally ambiguous when it suits her needs — so don’t fuck with her. And everything will be fine. ;)

cun·ning [ kəniNG ] ( noun ): skill in achieving one's ends by deceit.

#❝ —— 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓭𝔂 》ＦＩＮＥＰＯＩＮＴＳ.

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wikiweird · 10 months

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The Girl with X-Ray Vision

Natasha Demkina, also known as the "Girl with X-ray Eyes," is a Russian woman who gained international attention for her claimed ability to see inside the human body without the use of medical equipment. Born on January 11, 1987, in Saransk, Russia, Natasha first discovered her unique ability when she was just ten years old.

According to Natasha, she has the ability to see a person's internal organs, tissues, and even illnesses by looking at them. She claimed that she could see colors and shapes inside the body, allowing her to identify various health conditions. News of her supposed X-ray vision quickly spread, attracting media coverage and sparking debates among skeptics and believers.

In 2004, Natasha's story caught the attention of the media in the United Kingdom, where she was invited to participate in tests organized by medical professionals and scientists. These tests aimed to evaluate the validity of her claims and determine the accuracy of her alleged medical diagnoses.

While some participants of the tests reported positive experiences and expressed belief in Natasha's abilities, the scientific community remained skeptical. Critics argued that her diagnoses could be based on subtle visual cues, generalizations, or lucky guesses rather than genuine X-ray vision.

The controversy surrounding Natasha Demkina's abilities continues to generate debate, with skeptics demanding more rigorous scientific testing and evidence. Despite the skepticism, there are still individuals who believe in her claims and see her as a remarkable anomaly.

Natasha Demkina's case highlights the intersection of extraordinary claims, human perception, and the scientific method. Her story remains a subject of interest and curiosity, inviting ongoing discussions about the limits of human perception and the nature of extraordinary abilities.

#Natasha Demkina #xray #x-ray #x ray #wikipedia #weird facts #weird history #strange facts #strange history #random fact #weird wikipedia #wikiweird

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earth-93 · 4 months

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BRIGADE FILES: MIMIC

Stars & Stripes Hotline [Version 1.12]

C: \login\BuddyHolly

C:\Users\mini\BrigadeFiles\Xmen

Directory of C: \BrigadeFiles\Xmen

04/27/2006 9:48 AM Total Files Listed: 15 File(s) 168,248 bytes

Directory of C:\BrigadeFiles\Xmen\RANKIN_CALVIN.txt

[file data =

Main Alias/Moniker: Mimic

Legal Name: Calvin Montgomery Rankin

Other Aliases: Cal

Date of Birth: February, 19th 1987 (Age: 19)

Status: Alive

Species: Human Mutate

Sex: Male

Gender: Cisgender

Height/Weight: 5'10 (1.78m) [Varies] / 173 lbs (78.47kg) [Varies]

Hair/Eye Color: Brown / Brown

Timeline (1987 - 1997): I don't have a personal connection to Calvin. Bobby and Logan have more of a bond with him than I. Still, our lives were intertwined for a brief but critical point. It's this among other reasons that I took it upon myself to draft his file, despite some of the subject matter still creating discomfort for me. For someone who has had so little control over his life, I felt I owed it to him, the closest person who can relate to his experience, to try and put it on record.

According to retrieved medical documents, Calvin inherited a glandular disorder from his mother. A genetic defect that can affect one's heart rate and blood pressure. Calvin's mother was diagnosed with the condition posthumously, as she suffered cardiac arrest shortly after giving birth to him. As a single parent whose child was in need of full-time care, Dr. Rankin was put in a vulnerable spot, one that was eventually exploited by Essex.

I don't know enough about Ronald Rankin to confidently judge his character. Even him taking employment under Essex could stem from financial insecurity, and his disappearance and presumed death could further suggest he eventually objected to Essex's treatment of his son, and was promptly disposed of. The full details will forever be lost, and whatever the circumstances the outcome was that Calvin ended up in the same lower levels of Essex's hospital that I was around that time, conducting the experiments on mutant traits that wouldn't compliment his public persona of "Nathan Millbury."

I've suspected that, through Calvin, Essex sought to refine his "chimera" experiments: The grafting of mutant genes, that he had long ago applied to himself, into a non-mutant body. Rather than splicing specific genes into Calvin, Essex altered his endocrine system to make his body able to absorb and mimic not much mutant traits, but potentially all superhuman traits. If my suspicions were true, them Calvin was nothing but a guinea pig. A trial run of a procedure Essex intended to then apply on himself. Fortunately, his plans never went that far, as Calvin escaped Essex's captivity the same way I did, when the first manifestation of my optic blasts blew a hole in the wall.

Timeline (1997 - 2003): The specifics of Calvin's activity between his escape and his first interactions with us are unclear. I can attest that Essex and his contacts made great efforts to scrub the children he experimented on from public records, so any accomodations Calvin might have fallen into have been difficult to find. It can be inferred that whatever living situation Calvin found himself was brief, and he largely spent this period mobile. Due to his trauma, his glandular condition as well as his newfound powers, Calvin's threshold for stress was considerably low, and as a means of survival his interpersonal skills were boiled down to either manipulation or confrontation. Though his powers more closely qualify him as a Mutate, as this was the peak of mutant-related discourse Calvin came to recognize himself as such. So once the X-Men came into prominence, Calvin developed a fixation on us.

Timeline (2003): Calvin's first encounter with us was through Bobby. He befriended him privately, under the half-truth of being a mutant runaway who looked up to Bobby. Bobby felt alienated with the rest of the team at the time, and was susceptible to Calvin's manipulations. Calvin's intentions were to mimic the entire team's powers, and he very nearly succeeded. The more he tried to absorb, the more taxing and unwieldy it became for him to maintain all of them. What broke Calvin was when he attempted to drain and mimic Jean's powers—specifically, her powers without the mental blocks she still had at that point. Calvin was so clearly in pain, we all dropped our guards and offered to help him, but Calvin instead overpowered us in one last feat and fled.

The powers Calvin absorbed eventually regressed from inactivity, but it nonetheless took a toll on his body. He went on a brief robbing spree, breaking into pharmacies and stealing sedatives to try and numb his pain. Before any of us could track him down, he was first found by Phillip Masters, aka The Puppet Master. Masters used Calvin as a stratagem, threatening his life if we didn't make use of our contacts with the Fantastic Four and give him access into the Baxter Building. Jean and I played along with this, bringing Calvin into the Baxter Building under the pretense of requesting consultation with Dr. Richards, while the Professor and the rest of the team tracked down Masters' psychic signature.

Masters' goal was to acquire an android built by him and an associate that the Fantastic Four was in possession of at the time. We did have to feign being the aggressors for a brief moment, but once the rest of the team tracked down and detained Masters, Calvin's life was no longer under threat and the act could be dropped. Even when Masters attempted to retaliate with the unleashed android, its own mimicry powers were cancelled out once confronted by Calvin, thus ending the threat of the situation completely. Calvin briefly resided at the Mansion with us, where we first got the best sense of his powers.

Though understandably shaken in the aftermath, Calvin appeared responsive enough to nod along to the Professor's offers to provide him care. He would mimic Jean's powers, this time with a greater sense of control, and glee yet again. Calvin would later say of this that his involvement with Masters left him in a state of despair, unwilling to trust anyone but himself lest he be taken advantage of once more. He resumed his life on the run, but maintained his fixation on us in spite of his supposed mistrust. When we went mobile after Bobby fled to San Francisco, Calvin trailed behind us, and only intervened when we nearly approached our destination.

Camping outside of Las Vegas for the night, we unwittingly came into contact with the Hulk, and a fight broke out. Calvin intervened when it appeared the Hulk was gaining the upper hand, boldly grappling the Hulk and absorbing his Gamma radiation. It was enough for us to be able to disarm the Hulk, but it also left Calvin suddenly deathly ill. Hank's quick thinking led to Logan making contact with Calvin, and by mimicking Logan's healing factor was able to naturally process the radiation.

After we all gathered our bearings, an idea had formed amongst us: That through a more focused application of Calvin's absorption and Logan's healing factor, we could potentially cure Dr. Banner of being the Hulk altogether. There was some brief contention on whether to go through with this idea, but what settled it was Calvin's consent in his role in the procedure. He said to us he was ready to repent his past misdeeds and sought to do good, and by all accounts he was sincere in that claim. In the middle of the procedure, however, his fight or flight instincts compelled him to attempt to absorb Dr. Banner's Gamma entirely, likely thinking that gaining the Hulk's nigh invulnerability would end any concern over his survival.

Jean intervened when this subterfuge became clear, and through that telepathic contact Dr. Banner's Gamma was inexplicably transfered into her. While the rest of us fell under the influence of Jean who then went out to confront the military convoy out searching for the Hulk, it ended being Logan, out of all of us, who met Calvin at his level and succeeded in reasoning with him. Once the situation with Jean and Dr. Banner was resolved, Logan stayed behind with Calvin as the rest of us continued our journey into California.

At time of writing, Calvin is residing on Muir Island, receiving treatment both for his powers as well as his antisocial tendencies.

/file data]

#earth93 #comics #fanfic #marvel #comic books #x men comics #xmen #fantastic 4 #cyclops #hulk #incredible hulk #iceman #wolverine #mister sinister #jean grey #professor x #mimic #bobby drake #scott summers

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zvaigzdelasas · 2 years

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Militarily, the United States has been the primary source of Morocco's weaponry in the conflict over Western Sahara. The United States provided the most support for the Royal Moroccan Air Force, which was critical when the POLISARIO began using Soviet built weapons such as the Soviet-built SA-6 surface-to-air missiles to counter the growing effectiveness of the Royal Moroccan Air Force.[35] Thus, the United States has a history of supporting Morocco in its conflict over Western Sahara.[...]

In the 1970s, the United States supported Morocco's annexation,[43] and made an effort to modernize Morocco's military to help with its conflict over Western Sahara. The United States focused particularly on Morocco's Royal Moroccan Air Force. Help from the United States was especially important when the Polisario deployed Soviet-built SA-6 surface-to-air missiles to counter the growing effectiveness of the Royal Moroccan Air Force.[35] However, The Carter Administration shackled military support and weapons sales to Morocco with pre-conditions, stating the U.S. would only trade military supplies with Morocco for the purpose of modernizing Morocco's military, but not to assist with the conflict over Western Sahara. On the other hand, the Reagan Administration dropped all conditions in supporting the Moroccans, as the need for staging bases in North Africa for the Rapid Deployment Joint Task Force made access to Morocco's airfields strategically important.[35][...]

In the 1980s and early 1990s, Morocco secured about 1 billion dollars annually from Saudi Arabia to purchase arms and supplies from the United States to fight the POLISARIO and defend its claim to Western Sahara.[44] In November 1986, the United States military conducted joint exercises with Morocco off Western Sahara's Coast. In September 1987, the United States government sold Morocco 100 M-48A5 tanks, used for desert terrain.[45] During the late 1990s and early 2000s, the United States remained relatively silent on the issue, though it provided tacit support for Morocco.[46][...]

the idea of resolving the conflict in favor of Morocco has a sizeable following in U.S. policy circles, including strong support from the U.S. House of Representatives. In June 2007, former Secretary of State, Madeleine Albright, 173 members of Congress from both major American political parties, and 15 influential figures involved in national security and foreign policy signed a letter to President George W. Bush encouraging the President to get involved and assist bringing an end to the struggle. The letter cites international stability, the war against terrorism, economic integration and a long-standing allegiance with Morocco as some of the reasons for supporting Morocco and drawing the conflict over Western Sahara to a close. The letter stated, “Morocco’s commitment merits the support of the international community…”[51][...]

Speaking at [a] 2007 hearing, former U.S. Assistant Secretary of State, David Welch articulated that the Department of State sided with Morocco on the issue of Western Sahara. He explained that the conflict is a “…destabilizing element [which] thwarts regional ties, which are necessary for economic expansion, and it has had an effect on government-to-government cooperation within the Maghreb.”[54][...]

In response to the 2007 letter to President Bush, the 2008 Congressional Research Service report stated, “U.S. officials would prefer a solution to the Western Sahara dispute that would not destabilize Mohammed VI’s rule. They also believe that a settlement would enhance regional stability and economic prosperity.”[56]

Despite all of this, the United States at the time neither formally recognized Morocco's legitimate authority over Western Sahara nor Western Sahara's sovereignty.[56] However, the 2008 CRS Report noted that in 2007 the U.S. Undersecretary of State, Nicholas Burns backed Morocco's 2007 autonomy plan as “serious and credible.”[56]

As of 2008, the Moroccan forces in Western Sahara numbered around 100,000 (the majority of the Moroccan Army), while the POLISARIO was only supported by about 3,000 to 6,000 soldiers.[57][...]

In April 2009, 229 members of the U.S. House of Representatives, a clear majority and over 50 more than signed the letter in 2007, called on President Barack Obama to support Morocco's peace plan and to assist in drawing the conflict to a close. The signers included Democratic Majority Leader Steny Hoyer and Republican Minority Leader John Boehner. In addition to noting that Western Sahara has become a recruiting post for Radical Islamists, the letter affirmed that the conflict is “the single greatest obstacle impending the security and cooperation necessary to combat” terrorism in the Maghreb[...]

The Congressmen expressed concerns about Western Sahara's viability. They referenced a UN fact-finding mission to Western Sahara which confirmed the State Department's view that the Polisario proposal, which ultimately stands for independence, would lead to a non-viable state. In closing, the letter stated, “We remain convinced that the U.S. position, favoring autonomy for Western Sahara under Moroccan sovereignty is the only feasible solution.[...]

Members of the U.S. Senate, realizing similar “worrisome trends” in the region also drafted a letter of support for Morocco. In March 2010, a bi-partisan majority of U.S. Senators signed a letter to Secretary of State Hillary Clinton calling for the United States to support Morocco's autonomy plan. Similar to the House of Representative's letter to President Obama, the 54 bipartisan Senators (30 Democrats and 24 Republicans) who signed the letter stated concerns about growing instability in the region, including a terrorist threat. The letter openly called on Secretary Clinton and the Obama Administration to provide: "…more sustained American attention to one of the region's most pressing political issues, the Western Sahara."[...]

Signers included Senate Intelligence Committee Chairwoman, Senator Dianne Feinstein (D-CA) and ranking Intelligence Committee member Senator Kit Bond (R-MO). In regards to Morocco's autonomy plan, Senator Feinstein said, "The way I feel about it, Morocco has been a staunch ally of the United States, this is a big problem, and this is a reasonable way to settle it."[60]

On December 10, 2020, President Donald Trump announced that the United States would officially recognize Morocco's claims over Western Sahara, as a result of Morocco agreeing to normalize relations with Israel.[61] [...]The following day, the Trump administration moved forward with $1 billion in sales of drones and other precision-guided weapons.[63]

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edwordsmyth · 5 months

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https://carnegieendowment.org/pdf/files/2004-02-17-roy.pdf

"Hamas—an acronym for the Islamic Resistance Movement—was born with the first Palestinian uprising or Intifada, which began in December 1987. The birth of this organization represented the Palestinian embodiment of political Islam in the Middle East. Hamas’s evolution and influence were primarily outgrowths of the first Intifada and the ways in which Hamas participated in the uprising: through the operations of its military wing, the work of its political leadership, and its social activities.

Hamas’s goals—a nationalist position couched in religious discourse—are articulated in Hamas’s key documents: a charter, political memoranda, and communiqués. Some of these documents are undeniably racist and dogmatic. Yet, later documentation, particularly since the mid-1990s, is less doctrinaire and depicts the struggle as a form of resistance to an occupying power—as a struggle over land and its usurpation, and over how to end the occupation. Recent statements by key Hamas officials maintain that their goals are Israel’s withdrawal from lands occupied in the 1967 war, the end of Israeli occupation, the establishment of a Palestinian state, and a solution to the refugee issue.

With the end of the Intifada and the initiation of the Oslo peace process, the resistance component of the Palestinian struggle—so critical to Hamas’s political thinking and action—was undermined. This had direct repercussions for Hamas’s social theory and practice, which were largely if not wholly developed and shaped during the uprising. For Hamas, social and political action are inextricably linked. With the removal of the resistance/opposition component from Palestinian political imperatives, what role, at least one that might be acceptable to most Palestinians, was left for Hamas? The resulting problem confronting Hamas (and the Islamic movement generally) was fundamentally one of survival.

In response, there was a steady shift in emphasis, both ideologically and strategically, to the social sector of the Islamic movement, which had always been a critical component of that movement, providing a range of important services and doing so effectively. This shift was a search for accommodation and consensus within the status quo; it also reflected the need for Islamists to adjust to the conditions of the country in which they lived. Strategically, Hamas, and the Islamic movement generally, attempted to carve out public space in which they could operate without too much harassment from the Israeli or Palestinian authorities, and provide much-needed services to an increasingly needy population through a well-developed institutional infrastructure. In this way the Islamists would maintain their popular base of support.

Did direct ties exist between Islamic political-military and social institutions? The debate over the answer has been heated since the founding of Hamas. Conventional wisdom holds that Hamas controls all Islamic social institutions and uses them for political indoctrination and military recruitment. These interrelationships clearly were not always as routine and assured as is commonly believed. Some institutions claimed no political links at all. In the final analysis, more important than the existence of links was the work of these institutions and the services they provided.

Interestingly, many members of the Islamic political leadership did not view the nonaligned sector or the growing dominance of the social sector as a problem. A senior Hamas official explained it this way: “Everyone who is religious is Hamas and anyone who teaches Islamic values furthers Hamas’s goals.” Thus, the organic interconnection between political and social action in Hamas’s ideology meant that the expansion of the social sector served the movement’s objectives even if social institutions were nonaffiliated. Hence, the retreat from the political sphere was pragmatic and accompanied by a need to rediscover Islam and its relevance to society.

In the two- to three-year period before the second Intifida, Hamas was no longer prominently or consistently calling for political or military action against the occupation, but was instead shifting its attention to social works and the propagation of Islamic values and religious practice. According to a key Hamas official interviewed at the time, “Increasingly, Hamas represents religion and an Islamic way of life, not political violence.” Concomitant with this shift toward the sociocultural was a shift in certain terms and ideas, notably a growing acceptance of civil society as a concept—of a society where Islamic and Islamist institutions functioned as part of an integrated whole with their secular counterparts.

Defeating the occupier became a matter of cultural preservation, building a moral consensus and Islamic value system as well as political and military power. Hence, the struggle was not for power per se but for defining new social arrangements and appropriate cultural and institutional models that would meet real social needs, and do so without violence. The idea was not to create an Islamic society but one that was more Islamic, as a form of protection against all forms of aggression. In so doing, the Islamic movement was creating a discourse of empowerment despite the retreat of its long-dominant political sector.

Before Oslo, social action was historically focused on religious education through charitable societies, mosques, zakat(alms-giving) committees, health clinics, relief organizations, orphanages, schools, and various clubs. The objective was to teach Islamic values and to embody them through practice—that is, the provision of social services. Recipients were largely the poor and working classes. The Islamists gained a reputation for honesty and integrity in the way they conducted themselves, especially when compared to the PLO.

However, and perhaps most important, the shift to social services represented more than a return to Islamist and Islamic roots in the Muslim Brotherhood (the “parent” organization of Hamas, which emerged in the West Bank and Gaza in the 1970s as a social and cultural movement, abstaining from any political or military action against the occupation); it was accompanied by entry into seemingly new areas of social activity or the expansion of activity in pre-existing areas that went beyond the traditional boundaries of religious education and proselytizing that had characterized the social work of the Muslim Brotherhood. This allowed the Islamists entry to, and legitimation by, the existing order, which they apparently were seeking, or at least accepted.

Although social action has a political and revolutionary purpose in Hamas’s political ideology, Islamic social activism, as it was evolving in the Oslo context, was becoming increasingly incorporated within the mainstream (which, of course, was one way the ruling authority controlled the Islamic sector, but it worked to the advantage of both; by September 2000 approximately 10 to 40% of all social institutions in the West Bank and Gaza were Islamic, according to official and private sources). Some of the clearest examples of this dynamic were in education, health, and banking.

Arguably, these expanded or new areas of Islamic social activity represented the normalization, institutionalization, and professionalization of the Islamic sector in the public curriculum, the system of healthcare delivery, and banking and finance. At the same time, the Islamic sector was not advancing a policy of isolation but was calling for greater accommodation and cooperation with local, national, and international actors, including certain corresponding professional institutions in Israel.

In one healthcare institution in Gaza, which was considered “Hamas” since some members of its management team were political supporters of the organization, the medical director proudly described a training program inside Israel to which he sent some of his staff. In all likelihood, this decision could not have been taken without the consent of the Islamic political leadership. This position advocating greater social (and political?) integration with non-Islamic actors, both internal and external, appeared widespread among officials in the Islamic social sector and was the stated position of some members of the political leadership.

The shift to social action, to new forms of social engagement, and to the normalization and institutionalization of the Islamic and Islamist agendas during the Oslo period represented an important change within the Islamist movement. Islamists perhaps were trying to limit the arbitrary political power of the PA not through political or military confrontation, which had failed and was costly, but through mobilizing people at the sociocultural level and allowing the social part of the movement to define, pragmatically and nonviolently, the Islamic and Islamist agenda for some time to come. Although it was not smooth or quick, the transformation from militancy to accommodation was taking place.

With the Second Intifada, the Palestinian political environment underwent dramatic changes. First was the restoration of the resistance component and militancy to the Palestinian struggle, embraced by all factions, not just the Islamist opposition. Second was the attempt by the nationalist forces to accommodate the demands of the Islamists for the sake of maintaining national unity and an internal political consensus. Third was the effort by the Islamists to normalize their relationship with the PA, without conceding to its political conditions.

The renewed dominance of the Islamic political and military sectors has not eclipsed the importance or the role of the social. Given the dire economic conditions in the West Bank and Gaza—with unemployment and poverty rates approaching 60% and 70%, respectively—and the eroded capacity of the PA to deliver basic social services, Islamic social organizations have become an increasingly important part of the Palestinian social welfare system.

As during the Oslo period, they are providing services the PA is unable to provide and doing so with the tacit support of the authorities. Indeed, the periodic closing of Islamic charities and other social institutions for political reasons is often temporary because without their services a vacuum would result, which the PA is clearly incapable of filling. As such, there appears to be no organized PA campaign against them. This has further strengthened the institutionalization and normalization of Islamic organizations within the Palestinian status quo.

Some analysts maintain that while Hamas leaders are being targeted, Israel is simultaneously pursuing its old strategy of promoting Hamas over the secular nationalist factions as a way of ensuring the ultimate demise of the PA, and as an effort to extinguish Palestinian nationalism once and for all. In so doing, the argument continues, Israel creates a justification for maintaining the occupation since it will deal with Palestinians only as militant radicals and not on the basis of national rights or as a legitimate part of a political process. But then what?"

#sara roy #palestine #second intifada #mouin rabbani

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a-la-rascasse · 2 years

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Happy birthday MIKA HÄKKINEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (28/09/1968) 💙⚡

“You can only get over your fears if you attack them head on”.

Mika Pauli Häkkinen was born in Vantaa, a city not far from Helsinki, in an humble family: his father, Harri, was a short-wave radio operator and a part-time taxi driver, meanwhile his mother Aila, was a secretary. He also has a sister called Nina. Since a young age, Mika was a very lively and athletic child and used to play ice hockey and football. It was at the age of 5, that his parents rented a go-kart for him to take and try on a track near their home. However, his first experience on four wheels didn't go so well: little Mika crashed, but thankfully he was uninjured; despite his accident, the young boy wanted to keep racing, so his father decided to buy him a second-hand go-kart, which turned out to be the one that, future rally driver, Henri Toivonen, previously raced with. Young Mika would earn his first karting win in 1975, and in the late 70s would go and win the Keimola Club Championship for two consecutive years. Yet his major success would come in 1981, when he won in the 85cc class of the Finnish Karting Championship, the following year he would win the Ronnie Peterson Memorial event. In 1983, he moved up to the Formula Nordic 100cc that he ended up winning on his first attempt, and would later go and win it in the three following years. In the mean time, to fund his career, Mika got a job with a friend repearing bicycles.

After purchasing his first racing car, in 1987, Mika would take a big step and leave karting to start racing in the Finnish, Swedish and Nordic Formula Ford Championships, that surprisingly, he'll win each one on his first attempt. After joining the British Formula 3, where he finished 7th in the championship, in 1990, the young Finn applied to become a 'Marlboro World Championship team' memeber, his application was the last to be reviewed by the judging panel (which included Ron Dennis and James Hunt) and after looking at his strong results in testing, he secured the membership; that very same year, he also became the British Formula 3 Champion. The following year, he was offered his first Formula 1 test session with Benetton: he really liked the car and its steering wheel and throttle response, but he was sure that the team wouldn't offer him the seat, so he preferred to sign with the Lotus team.

Mika made his debut at the US GP driving for Lotus, however his debut would be quite unpleasent, since he was forced to retire from the race due to an engine failure. But overall, his first year would be quite positive, collecting various points and ending up 16th in the World Championship; his second year in the team would be even more positive, since he finished 8th in the Championship with 11 points. Following a contract dispute, in which the young driver was in the middle of, at the end of the year he managed to sign for McLaren. Initially meant to be the new McLaren driver, he would end up 'on the bench' as the official test driver, due to the hiring of Michael Andretti. Yet, Andretti didn't last much in the team, and at the Portuguese GP, Mika would replace the American for the rest of the season. The Finn immediately showed his worth by outqualyfing Ayrton Senna and at his only second GP for the team, he would end up on podium at Suzuka, with an amazing 3rd place. These good performances lead him to earn his McLaren seat in 1994, that despite the bad start of the season and a ban for three races, he managed to collect a good amount of points and finished 4th overall. Always with McLaren, the 1995 season started with a good fourth place, but unfourtunately continued with a lot of consecutive retirements; but Mika's, already unfortunate, season ended in the worst way possible: during the qualyfing session at the Australian GP, his car suffered a tyre failure, and the car ended up hitting sideways a crash barrier. His conditions were highly critical, but it's thanks to the efforts of the trackside medical team, that his life was saved that day. Transported to the hospital nearby, Mika would spend there two whole months, where he was able to make his remarkable recovery. The Finn's come back to F1 was in time with the start of the new season, feeling stronger than ever, he wanted to start winning, he would have to wait almost one season where at the European GP, the last of the 1997 season, he would score his firts victory in his career, almost forseeing the bright future ahead. Driving the new silver McLaren MP4/13, Mika completely demoralised the competition by finishing on podium every race, except for five, and scoring 8 victories, leading Mika to claim the much coveted World Championship. The following season had the same good ending as the previous one: Mika became champion for the second consecutive year, despite various retirements, the Finn scored enough points to see him prevail on the competition. The Finnish driver almost won his third championship in 2000, but unfortunately Michael Schumacher, with a gap of 19 points, claimed the title. The 2001 season was off a bad start, and continued to be quite unsuccessful, due to the unreliability of the McLaren, this unsatisfaction lead Mika to retire at the end of the season, stating that he would take a sabbatical year from F1, to spend time with his family. (Where are you Mika? We're still waiting for you to come back from the sabbaical).

After his retirment he remained close to the world of motorsport and became a commentator for various tv channels and despite his retirement, he took part, and still does, in various motorsport events, like it happened earlier this year at the Race of Champions.

Nicknamed the 'Flying Finn', like many other Finnish racing drivers before him, he got his nickname, not only for his speed, but after a photo of his McLaren 'flying' mid air as he speeds on the Adelaide circuit was taken, and published by the note motorsport photographer Mark Sutton.

Mika's and Michael's iconic rivalry excited many in the 90s, especially for their different driving styles and personalities clashing against each other: Michael's firey personality reflected his more aggressive, lively and impulsive driving style, meanwhile Mika's cold and detached personality reflected his precise, calculated, neat driving style. But their 'loyal rivalry', actually dates back to their time in the British formula 3, where, at a young age, they were already having heated battles on track.

Michael always stated that Mika was the only driver he really respected and had fun racing against.

#hyvää syntymäpäivää rakas mika!!!!!!!!!!!! 💙💙💞💞#mika will always have a special place in my heart mainly because he's the one that got me into the world of the 'classic' f1 #absolutely one of my favourite drivers #and one that I'll always admire!#💙💞💖#mika häkkinen #mika hakkinen #classic f1 #f1 #formula 1 #retro f1 #f1 1990s #f1 2000s #f1_bdays

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psilocybinlemon · 1 year

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DARK ENERGY - Fairy Tail x Half-Life 2

For the past seventeen years, the Earth has been scourged by an extraterrestrial alien race known as the Combine. The remaining humanity is bound in shackles while the planet is sapped from its precious resources. However, a covert group of rebels still persists, aiming to defeat the Combine and restore their freedom.

Natsu, a proficient Resistance soldier, helps escort citizens from the Combine-controlled City 17 into safer regions, while his older brother Zeref works restlessly in his laboratory to create a functioning teleport. If that succeeds, the evacuation operations would be much smoother, and Natsu and his team wouldn’t have to constantly put their lives at risk.

The process stands still until the missing piece is found and delivered to the team by a scientist named Lucy. But at the same time, long-lost forces awaken and join the fray, causing the Combine to launch a full-term attack for wiping out the Resistance. Let the war end in either total victory or their extinction – no further compromise shall they allow.

// Modern Post-Apocalyptic AU, based in the universe of Half-Life series. Rated Explicit for death, blood and gore, terrible politics, war, that kind of stuff you see in First-Person Shooter games. Pairing: Eventual Nalu Chapters in Tumblr: 1 Also in AO3

PROLOGUE: 17

“In our obsession with antagonisms of the moment, we often forget how much unites all the members of humanity. Perhaps we need some outside, universal threat to make us recognize this common bond. I occasionally think how quickly our differences worldwide would vanish if we were facing a threat from outside this world.” - Ronald Reagan, Address to the 42nd Session of the United Nations General Assembly in New York, NY, 1987

// December 5th, 2017. Tuesday, 4:45 PM. Black Mesa East // The 5th of December had always felt like an anniversary of sorts, but for what exactly, Natsu couldn’t tell.

From the rooftops of Black Mesa East, the scenery opened far and wide across the wastelands. The sun was descending closer to the horizon, nearly hiding behind the Citadel, the enormous tower that pierced the skies. Even from afar, Natsu could see the flying synths returning and leaving their nest of darkness. The shadows of that tower, the enemy’s main fortress, stretched over his life like the plague, but he still clung to the rays of light that shone behind it.

Sometimes, when he stared at the setting sun long enough, he could forget the weight of the machine gun that rested in his arms, but not today. Not on the 5thof December, because this day, seventeen years ago, the world as he’d known it had come to an end.

And his hands were still covered in blood.

He let out a weary sigh. On the outskirts of the distant city, a cloud of black smoke rose from the depths of the canal, approximately where Station 12 was located. Natsu had been there when the bombs unfurled and fires began to spread. Earlier this day, his squad had been escorting a group of citizens through the underground railroad, when out of sudden, the Combine had ambushed them. Such a thing hadn’t happened in years – they had been able to operate covertly in peace, but now, the enemy had finally sniffed them out.

Though dread and fear had been building up in his chest since it happened, Natsu still couldn’t comprehend it. His missions had never failed. He lowered his gaze from the sun to his hands. The dark crimson stains on his gloves and the splatters on his gun were still there, reminding him it had truly happened. They had lost every citizen they were supposed to protect. His partner lay in the infirmary in critical condition and the rest of the team were still missing. Though he couldn’t feel the pain, the weight of this failure held him in a chokehold, like an open wound he couldn’t cauterize.

Yet somehow, ill precognition remained with him. Today had been only the beginning. The worst was yet to come.

Then, he caught a signal of someone arriving on the roof. Carrying the codename “Scarlet”, another soldier came to his field of detection, but stayed there at the edge for a while. Natsu didn’t need to glance past his shoulder to know Erza was staring at him, unable to say anything. She often used to complain about him coming to the roof, but now her silence felt much worse than her yelling ever did.

“Sergeant Dragneel, it’s time for a mission report.”

Natsu turned towards her. Clad in her black Overwatch armour, the commander of the Resistance units stood next to the door. The expression on Erza’s face was stern, yet even she failed to masquerade her pain. There wasn’t any disappointment in it, no. Only sadness. As they exchanged a wordless gaze, Natsu answered with a nod. He dreaded the thought of reporting today’s events to their leader, but it had to be done, for the sake of the lives they had lost. So, he stole one last glance at the sunset, and followed Erza back to the building.

“So, what happened?” Erza asked after a long silence, as they walked through the corridor towards the leader’s office. Her tone was softer now, as if the titles and formalities had been stripped from their conversation, giving him an opportunity to speak from friend to friend. When he remained quiet, Erza glanced at him. “Natsu?”

He scoffed dryly.

“Everything went to hell.” __________________________________________________________

// December 5th, 2017. Tuesday, 7:13 AM. City 17 //

The day had just dawned bright and crispy, and the 47thevacuation operation for this year was almost complete.

So far, everything had gone according to the plans. Natsu’s squad hadn’t encountered any unexpected hindrances or obstacles, except for a certain barnacle accident in the canals that Gray refused to talk about. Either way, the mission had passed without further injuries, and Natsu was anxious to make it back to Black Mesa East. If they’d travel fast, he could sleep in his own bed tonight. That thought always kept him going.

Since arriving in City 17 late yesterday evening, they had found a place to stay in the apartments near the main railway station. Despite having slept for only a few hours last night on a thin mattress in the cold kitchen corner, no signs of tiredness adorned Natsu’s face. In the bleak morning light, he ate some breakfast with Gray. They had found some coffee and wheat crackers in the cabinets, yet Natsu had not dared to check their expiration dates. Snacks from the previous century filled his stomach just as well if he didn’t think about it too much.

“Hey, Natsu, guess what,” Gray said, holding back a snicker of a laugh. “That Combine’s‘non-mechanical reproduction simulation’is pretty lit shit.”

Natsu’s gaze shot from the newspaper to the black-haired man, who sat on the opposite side of the small makeshift table. “Man, what the hell?”

Gray took the first sip of the coffee that had stopped steaming a while ago. “Yeah. When their soldiers have earned a hundred credits, they can get that as a reward. It’s basically some virtual porn, quite realistic, but the Combine’s representation was rather… weird.”

“Don’t tell me you tried it.”

“I found the data when I was hacking into their servers yesterday. Of course I had to check what that‘non-mechanical reproduction simulation’was.” When Natsu didn’t answer, Gray spread his arms in defence.So that’s why he was locked in the bathroom for two hours last night,Natsu thought. “Don’t judge, it’s my job to sniff into these things as a data scavenger!”

Sighing, Natsu leant his forehead onto his palm, unable to look at his fellow soldier. The yellow-papered newspaper, painted by numerous coffee stains, wrinkled beneath his elbow. A familiar headline covered most of the first page, one he had seen too many times before.EARTH SURRENDERS, it said, loud and clear. The ink had faded in the passing of the years, but the date was still visible in the upper corner of the page.15th of December, 2000, ten days after the incident that had changed everything.

“Can’t fucking believe it has been almost seventeen years and there still isn’t a fresh newspaper,” Natsu muttered, trying to distract himself from Gray’s shit. He lifted the white cup to his lips and poured down the last of his coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste. Just to be sure which day it was, he checked today’s date on his wristwatch.December 5th. He sneered. “It was this exact day when the world went to hell.”

Gray was quiet for a while. Talking about the First Days always made him shut down. The men were of the same age – Gray had also been only five years old when the incident happened, but he’d never told where he was then. Natsu had shared everything of his story with Gray, even the fact that it had been his dad in the test chamber that fateful day. Yet somehow, Natsu had always thought Gray’s story had to be so much worse.

Though memories surfaced from the depths of his mind on this particular day, they failed to make him cry. Few things did anymore. He had cried then when his mother shoved him to the train with his brother and sworn she’d find them later. She never did. He had cried when the lights had gone out for good – he hadn’t been afraid of the darkness, but the creatures that lurked in it. He wasn’t scared of them anymore. But if he could tell the five-year-old him that he’d come to kill those monsters later on, he wasn’t sure if he would.

Maybe his younger self would be better off without knowing where life after the world’s end would take him.

“I’d rather…” Gray started and sighed. From the sudden darkening of his eyes, Natsu could tell the man had drifted into his memories as well. “I’d rather not talk about it now.”

Natsu nodded.

“Me neither.”

They were the only ones in the apartment’s small kitchen, but the distant chatter of others could be heard from the living room. The doors between the rooms had been removed some time ago, yet the design of the whole block must’ve been bleak long before the world went down. Except for their own fortresses and industrial factories, the Combine had built nothing on Earth. City 17 was formed on the foundation of some East-European city, and the architecture was still from the Soviet era. What exactly had been the city’s name before it became City 17, Natsu didn’t know, and it probably didn’t matter anymore.

By the time Natsu’s group arrived here, most of the block’s citizens had chosen, orbeenchosen to be deployed to the Combine. It seemed to be the fate of many neighbourhoods recently. Only a group of nine had stayed in the building trying to survive with the little food and supplies they had left. When they were asked if they wanted to leave the city, their answer was a clear, eager yes.

In the living room, Cana and Loke were sharing details of their upcoming escape journey with the citizens. There were three men and six women, which meant they’d have to divide into two groups to stay under the radar. Each time it surprised Natsu to hear that most citizens had no idea the underground railroad – or Black Mesa East, the largest Resistance base in the area, where the road led – even existed, but at least they had managed to keep it covered so far. The trip through the Xen-infested canals wouldn’t be easy, yet many still chose to take the risk. Life had been getting increasingly more intolerable in City 17.

“If you want, I can share the files with ya,” Gray said after the silence. “Wouldn’t hurt to have a good laugh, right?”

“No thanks, idiot,” Natsu answered and turned a page on the newspaper. To ignore Gray’s meaningless rumbling, he kept reading, even though he had read the same article hundreds of times.Portal storms continue. Windows to another world open across the globe. Stay calm and indoors to avoid panic, experts advise. Natsu scoffed dryly. Staying indoors hadn’t helped much when a portal to Xen could randomly open at one’s toilet, and a swarm of acid-spitting monsters flooded the house. It hadn’t happened to Natsu, but he’d heard enough stories. No one had been able to avoid panic on the First Days.

“Why do you always have to be such a grim bastard?” Gray asked, grinning. “I could just upload those to your BCI while you sleep, you know.” He reached across the table and gently knocked the small metallic dots on Natsu’s right temple. “Maybe that would make you happier.”

Natsu shoved his hand away, shuddering at the thought. “If you do that, I’ll kill you,” he warned, though Gray knew he didn’t truly mean it. Natsu joked about killing his second-in-command man at least once a day, but he’d never let any harm fall on his most-trusted friend. “I really don’t want to experience some fucked-up alien porn, thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah? Got enough bitches on your dick?”

Natsu scoffed and stared into his eyes for a moment. “I got one bitch on my fucking face at the moment.”

Gray smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve heard some folks saying that they’d join the Civil Protection just to get a proper meal. I think they just wanna see some alien porn. Think about it, man. Some people are giving up their entire freedom for the opportunity.”

Natsu glanced at Gray’s cup. “Well, if they’re forced to drink coffee and eat crackers that both expired in 1999, it’s no wonder they consider joining the CP.” Then he dug an old lighter and a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his cargo pants, took one and held it between his teeth as he ignited it. “Damn, these cigs are stale as fuck,” he muttered as he exhaled the cloud through the broken window, gazing down at the empty streets below.

Gray shrugged and took another sip of cold, black coffee. “If you don’t think about it, it ain’t that bad.” Gray laughed and beckoned at the pack Natsu had placed next to his empty coffee cup. “Gimme one of those.”

Natsu glared at him from below his brows. “Bad shit happens to greedy whores,” he growled slowly.

“Come on, just this once. I left mine at the base.”

“Too bad then. You have no idea how long it took to find a well-preserved carton.”

“Well, I guess I could tell Lisanna how much you’re smoking on the missions. Maybe she’d help you get rid of thatwell-preserved cartonby giving that to me instead,” Gray replied mockingly. “She’d hate it if you became impotent, you know.”

“Nah. She already knows how much I smoke, and I don’t think she even cares about my potency anymore, anyway,” Natsu answered and blew out some smoke. “You’re one really desperate bitch aren’t you?”

“Hey, I’m dying for a cig,” Gray whined. “Do you want me to beg or suck your –?”

“Man, just shut up.” Knowing he couldactuallydo that, Natsu gave in. “Here, but you’ll owe me a beer,” he muttered and offered the pack to Gray, pinching his brows when the man took two. Smiling wickedly, Gray put the extra one behind his ear, then stood up from the table and walked to Natsu, then bent down to ignite his cigarette on the burning end of Natsu’s smoke. As he straightened his back and leaned against the windowsill, Natsu’s scowling gaze was still on him. “That’s twobeers now,” he scoffed. “I hate it when you do that.”

“Whatever you wish, you grumpy cunt,” Gray answered, breathing out the smoke at Natsu’s face. He remained quiet for a moment, as if thinking back his words. “There’s some shit between you and Lisanna? That’s why you’re so cranky?”

Natsu shrugged. If Gray would rather not talk about the First Days, Natsu really didn’t like sharing his misfortunes with women. Both were equally catastrophic. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated? As if you somehow forgot she’s your trainee and you shouldn’t actually be fucking her?”

“Something like that,” Natsu mumbled as he inhaled the smoke, then rubbed the back of his neck before exhaling it. “I don’t know. It just ain’t working.”

“It can’t be as bad as when you were Erza’s trainee, and –“

“For fuck’s sake let’s not mentionthat!”

“Jellal would skin you alive if he knew about it,” Gray snickered. “Hmm, I could use that to extort cigs from you, right? Why didn’t I think of that earlier…”

Natsu buried his face into his hands, holding the cigarette between his fingers, a bit further away from his hair. Sometimes even he couldn’t believe all the things he had done – and actually, some were so distant and unbelievable he kept forgetting about them, as long as Gray didn’t kindly decide to bring them back up at unfortunate moments. His little fling with Erza from years ago was a brilliant example of such things. Gray made sure he’d never hear the end of it.

Gray rubbed his chin. “We were in Erza’s squad when we raided the old warehouse near the canals, right? Remember that?” he asked, his tone less snarky than previously. Perhaps even he realised he’d hit the wrong subject, and it was better to shift to something else.

Natsu lowered his arms to the table, lifting his brow. “Was this the sex-tape case?”

“Yeah,” Gray laughed. “Somebody had hidden their VSC cassettes of home-filmed hot stuff into empty ammo crates. We took them to Black Mesa East and showed them to the vortigaunts.” Natsu’s open cringe made him even more excited. “Poor vortigaunts were so confused. What did they say? Shit, like,ga la lung... churr galing chur alla gung...”

Natsu failed to hold back his laughter as Gray imitated the vortigaunt speech. “You know, they often speak in our language until they wish to speak ‘unflattering things’about us,” he said and brought the cigarette back to his lips. “That probably meantgeez, these guys are fucking morons or something.”

“I kinda miss the vortigaunts when we’re away,” Gray said after a small silence, looking out from the window. “All they do is stare straight into your soul and utter poetry.” Suddenly, a frown formed between the man’s brows. He remained perfectly still while staring at the streets, until he flinched away from the windowsill. “Shit, the metro cops are here.”

“What!?” Natsu answered, disbelief and rage mixing in his whisper. He spun around in his chair and peeked out from the window, then instantly pulled his head back. A unit of Civil Protection, about six soldiers, marched down the streets towards the building. “Oh shit, you’re right.”

“Fucking hell,” Gray said, dumping the half-burned cigarette butt into the coffee cup, and then they both picked up their machine guns that had been resting against their chairs. He rushed to the living room with Natsu following his trail. The mention of metro cops – they probably hadn’t been listening to their whole conversation, hopefully – had already alerted the rest of the squad and the citizens. “We’ve gotta get going now. CP’s heading this way!”

“They’ve no reason to come to our place!” exclaimed one citizen, a younger woman whose name Natsu couldn’t remember – either Milly or Millianna, he wasn’t sure.

“Don’t worry, they’ll find one,” Natsu told her, and began counting the people. He made it to eight heads when he realised one was missing. When they had woken up an hour ago, there had surely been nine of them. “Where’s the dark-haired lady?”

“Minerva said she’d go pick up something important from the cellar, but she hasn’t gotten back,” the girl said.

“When did she leave?”

“Half an hour ago, maybe.”

Suspicion aroused in Natsu’s mind. “We won’t wait for her. The only important thing you’ll be taking from here is your lives. So, since the CP’s so kindly decided to raid this fucking building, we’ll escape through the roofs.” He gestured at Loke and Cana. “You two take them outta here, me and Gray will follow as soon as we can.”

Loke nodded, then ordered each citizen to the hallway. Natsu and Gray remained in the room as the others left, putting their helmets on their heads. While Loke and Cana wore just bullet vests upon long-sleeved jackets and scarves with the Resistance symbol, lambda letter, embroidered on them, Natsu and Gray were fully clad in Civil Protection armour sets. It was a part of their strategy, to use infiltration and escape methods to take citizens to safety. So far, it had always worked, and Natsu had no reason to doubt why it wouldn’t work this time.

Rubble sounded loud and clear in the staircase as the front door on the first floor was blown up, followed by many hasty steps. The short, blonde girl next to the brown-haired one fell pale as a ghost. “I told you they’d be coming for us next! It was just a matter of time!”

“Quit screaming and go,” Natsu ordered her, his voice transmuted by his helmet’s vocoder as he shoved the trembling girl into the hallway. He loaded his SMG just to be sure – despite using full armour stolen from killed CP’s, their cover wasn’t unbreakable. If they’d start asking too many questions, he’d have no other choice than to empty the magazine. Disguising into Combine uniforms and getting caught undercover meant gaining instant express to Nova Prospekt – a fate worse than death.

When the citizens had run to the second store on Cana’s and Loke’s lead, Natsu and Gray closed the apartment doors, pretending to have just finished a check-up. Through the vision shield of his helmet, Natsu detected the incoming soldiers before they reached the end of the stairs. He turned towards them, raising his hand to his brow.

“We’ve just finished inspection raids of this block. We found no disturbances in this sector,” Natsu reported with no falter in his voice.

There were eight of them, hiding their faces behind those white masks. It sickened him every time that the Civil Protection werestill human. They wore armbands with “c17:i4o” emblazons on them, and “C17” was printed on the back of their collars – same as Natsu and Gray, yet nothing about their hearts was the same. Just how many blocks had these bastards brutalized? How many had they killed, deployed to their forces, or sent to Nova Prospekt? Those who joined the CP had given up their freedom, theirhumanity,while the Resistance still clung to it, and wouldkeep clinging, no matter how hard the Combine tried to break them.

The leader of the squad held a stun baton, charged with electricity, in his gloved hands, as if eager to get to beat people with it. The officer stepped closer to them. “We’ve just gotten a report of a serious disturbance in this specific sector. According to the reports, there have been suspected anticitizens,” his voice altered into a robotic monotone, the same as Natsu’s and Gray’s.

… what?

“We heard the same, but we found no-one here. It must’ve been a false alarm,” Gray said. “This building is clear. We’re just leaving.”

The officer didn’t seem to believe them. “Fascinating. We weren’t supposed to have extra officers in this area today. Which shift are you in? Show me your IDs, so we can redirect you to your right area of responsibility before the big boss notices.”

Natsu and Gray glanced at each other, and though they couldn’t see each other’s expression, they knew they had the same thought.

They raised their guns and opened fire.

“243! Assault on protection team!” a soldier on the back shouted to his radio, the electric voice buried under the roar of the bullets. Natsu and Gray walked back while keeping their aim directly at the soldiers, and one by one their radios went static, a high-pitched humming echoing in the hallway. Blood splattered to the walls and began to pool on the concrete floor as the CP’s dropped dead, a sight Natsu had grown desensitized to long ago.

This time, they had the advantage of the surprise, but they wouldn’t have it again. When all eight men lay still and dead, sirens rang in the distance. One of them had managed to call for reinforcement, and before they’d come here, the Resistance was better to be far away. The Combine might be slow to wake, but once they’d get up, one didn’t want to get in their way.

So, Natsu and Gray began running.

“Shit,anticitizens? Did that bitch rat on us!?” Natsu growled, his mind connecting the dots rapidly fast. “There’s no other way the CP would’ve sniffed us out. I’ll fucking kill her if –“

“We can’t jump to conclusions. We’ll figure out what happened later, now we’ve gotta get the hell outta here!” Gray shouted and kicked open the staircase door Cana and Loke had closed. The circular stairway lead up to many levels, and soon they made it to the roof, the sirens sounding ever louder. Scanners – those flying machines taking pictures of citizens – floated closer to them, and Gray shot them down before running to the rooftops.

There was a route they had planned for a situation like this. They’d go along the roofs for about a few blocks, then descend back to ground level on a fire ladder, in hopes of leading the enemy astray. As they went, Natsu struggled – actuallystruggled, for the first time in ages – to concentrate on the task. His mind boiled with rage. Normally his BCI, the brain-computer interface, a part of technology stolen from the Overwatch, balanced the turmoil in his head when shit went to hell. Natsu’s brother had installed it on him years ago when he ascended to the elite forces of the Resistance, yet this moment proved that the unison of humans and machines was still far from complete – and Natsu found it oddly comforting to feelsomething for a chance.

But having a citizen turn against them was something that hadn’t happened before. Perhaps they were fools. They should’ve been expecting it as the Combine’s grip over the people kept ever tightening.

Until now, the Resistance could’ve trusted the people’s support. They had trusted thepeople,who trustedthem to fight the Combine, even if they wouldn’t want to fight it themselves. Just how much had the woman heard before selling them out? If the Combine knew about Black Mesa East, then it was critical to find out. It wouldn’t just possibly get them killed, it would endanger the whole Resistance.

As they ran across the roofs, hiding behind the chimneys and ridges while the sirens howled, Natsu’s inner turmoil began to ease. The momentary spike of adrenaline had been too much for the interface to deflect, but now it began to work as it was supposed to – keeping him alert, but suppressing his anger and distress. His brother always said that even the most perfect machines couldn’t always bendhislevel of emotional impulsivity – at least with the technology they had currently acquired. With each system update, he had felt it getting better, more intense, but at the same time, he lost another part of himself he didn’t think he’d ever get back.

By the time they made it to the fire ladder, the bullets were already flying.

A unit of Civil Protection had climbed to the building on the opposite side of the street, and from the roof, they opened fire. Natsu cursed silently and crouched below the half-collapsed wall, pulling Gray down with him as a rain of bullets swept past where they had just stood.

“We’ve gotta go down a different route. Can’t draw these motherfuckers to Cana and Loke,” Natsu whispered, holding tight to his gun.

Gray nodded, pressing a button on the side of his helmet, which opened an encrypted radio connection to Loke’s end. “Loke, do you copy?” he asked, and Natsu could hear a faint echo of Loke’s reply. “We’ll try to sneak behind the main station and head underground. We’re in a shitty place here, but we’ll make it. Meet us at Route Kanal.” Then he released the button, and glanced at Natsu. “Damn man, this is just like the old times, right?”

Natsu grinned at him, then looked up. The Combine forces seemed to have lined up on the other side of the street only, making their exit from the roof through the fire ladder impossible. So, Natsu peeked over the wall, aimed his gun and fired at the soldiers across the distance, though he knew his chances of hitting them were small. Only one high-pitched flatline sounded over all the firing. However, the distance worked in their favour as well.

On the edge of the roof, they could jump to the balconies, break the windows and proceed to the ground level within the building. To signal their agreement, Natsu and Gray nodded to each other, and then they went.

Running fast and avoiding bullets, they reached the edge, with no hesitation hindering their steps even when they noticed thereweren’tany damn balconies. This side of the block was covered by a forest of leafless trees, giving no spots for the CPs to shoot them here. Natsu grasped the rain gutter as he went down, hanging for a second before swinging forth and kicking in the brittle glass. Gray followed right after him as they jumped into the abandoned apartment, the sounds of a firefight still ringing loudly on the outside.

They quickly found their way to the hallway, then made it to the windowless staircase at the end of it, ever down through the empty stores until they reached the ground level. The front door led to the side of a park. Gray shot once at the glass, it shattered, and then they escaped back to the crisp, fresh air that smelled so heavily of gunsmoke. The CP no longer had a clear sight of them, they dispersed from the roofs, yet Natsu knew they wouldn’t hold the chase for long. If they’d shoot down all the scanners before they’d snap a picture of them, they could say they’d soon be safe.

Or so Natsu hoped.

Suddenly, another sound pierced the air. An artificial, feminine voice echoed loud from the broadcast speakers all around the city block. Natsu and Gray turned their gazes in the direction where it came, both knowing what it was: the Overwatch Voice, the harbinger of death. For too many, it was the last thing they ever heard.

“ATTENTION PLEASE. UNIDENTIFIED PERSON OF INTEREST, CONFIRM YOUR CIVIL STATUS WITH LOCAL PROTECTION TEAM IMMEDIATELY.”

All the guns went silent for a moment. Natsu knew he’d be petrified in terror without his BCI, as now the electrical signals it sent to his brain suppressed his ability to feel fear. Not a shiver ran down his spine as he stared at how the CP units descended from the roof, and a choir of running steps withdrew from them.

They were going in the opposite direction.

“ATTENTION GROUND UNITS. ANTICITIZEN REPORTED IN THIS COMMUNITY. CODE: LOCK, CAUTERIZE, STABILIZE.”

“She’s talking of just one person, right?” Gray whispered to Natsu as they hid behind the trees. Then, the ground began to quake as the steps of something gigantic approached – and from between the buildings Natsu saw a Strider passing by, with at least two dozen soldiers leading it – nearly as tall as the trees, the spider-like synth marched, still further away from them.

"CITIZEN REMINDER: INACTION IS CONSPIRACY, REPORT COUNTER BEHAVIOR TO A CIVIL PROTECTION TEAM IMMEDIATELY. FAILURE TO CO-OPERATE WILL RESULT IN PERMANENT OFF-WORLD RELOCATION."

“They aren’t coming for us,” Natsu realised. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know, but we won’t get a chance like this again! Let's get the hell outta here while we can!”

Natsu nodded, his gaze still locked on the Strider. Those monsters were rarely seen – when the Combine brought them to fray, it was better to start praying, and quick. “That’s one unlucky fucker who’s gonna get railed by that thing,” he muttered, then turned away and set forth to running. “Apparently they did something worse than we did.”

“Yeah, it isn’t every day the Combine gets pissed off like that. Let’s just hope Cana and Loke are alright,” Gray answered, then pressed the radio button again. “Do you read, Loke? We’re clear. Some shit is happening here, but we’re heading your way now.”Copy that, Loke answered the radio, and so Gray closed it.

The sirens behind them grew silent and distant as they ran through the park and jumped into the rainwater tunnel, making it to the other side of the city sector. In front of them, in the heart of the city, towered the Citadel. The Combine’s headquarters made navigating in the labyrinth of streets and buildings rather easy – across the years Natsu had learnt to recognize the landmarks so that he could always make it to the underground railroad, that started right near the main station.

They stopped in the distant alley near the plaza to catch their breaths and put their weapons on their backs. Though Natsu was still confused by all of that, he wouldn’t have time to think until they’d reached at least Station 12. He rested against the wall and stared at his boots for a moment, calmness settling into his mind again after seeing that Strider. The mission had to continue, after all.

“Everything okay?” Gray asked, and Natsu answered with a faint nod before raising his head. “Ready to keep going?”

They were almost there. To reach Route Kanal – the place where the underground railroad began – they’d have to cross the trainstation plaza, appearing as unsuspicious as they ever could. Usually, it went without a problem, as long as the Combine didn’t invite Overwatch soldiers to the fray. Those bastards could see through their masquerade faster than an atom would split. But if they’d just look like regular CP on patrol, everything would go fine. So, they took in deep breaths, and stepped out of the alley into the open square.

Compared to the previous onslaught, the plaza at the station was eerily silent. Only a few citizens seemed to have gotten off the trains and relocated to City 17. Natsu had heard how more and more of those who arrived were sent straight to Nova Prospekt – those were only rumours, obviously, but they always had more truth in them than the propaganda speeches they broadcasted on the massive screens.Welcome to City 17, sounded loudly from the speakers.It’s safer here.

They didn’t say a word to each other as they walked across the plaza. The citizens naturally avoided them, making Natsu feel sorry – if he could offer an opportunity to better life to all of them, he would. But each evacuation mission could only take so many citizens with them. As he’d seen today, City 17 was becoming an unbearable, more dangerous place. But as long as the Resistance was there, there was also hope. It beat within the hearts of those wearing the lambda symbol, even though Natsu’s scarf was hidden inside the CP’s helmet.

But as he passed by the station’s stairs, a strange feeling flooded his heart.

The feeling of being watched.

Natsu halted for a moment. He peeked over his shoulder, but saw nothing amongst the grey concrete, no scanners, no soldiers, no one. Still, he wassuresomeone was observing him. Someone familiar, someone he had lost since lost, shrouded in deep, deep shadows.

“Come on. We’re almost there,” Gray whispered to him. “Can’t keep them waiting for much longer.”

Then Natsu followed him, but the feeling in his guts just wouldn’t fade.

____________________________________________________

// December 5th, 2017. Tuesday, 7:00 AM. //

Silence.

Darkness.

Emptiness.

Time had stood still for him since he had made that fateful choice. It must’ve been years, yet now he was called for again.Rise and shine, the voice spoke, the same voice that had been the last thing he heard before falling into very, very long sleep.Rise and… shine.

There was a piercing light, blinding the eyes that had stared into the void for an eternity. A man in a blue suit appeared from the abyss, visions from his past endeavours vanishing through his waking mind. Faintly, he could remember the deal they had made.Keep my sons safe, he had asked from this man, who had promised tosee into it, as an exchange for his… assignment.

“Not that I wish to imply you have been sleeping on the job. No one is more deserving of a rest,”said the man, an otherworldly echo in his words. Slowly, the bleak void began to shift into a corporeal world.“And all the effort in the world would have gone to waste until...well, let's just say your hour has come again.”

In a moving train he awakened. The sceneries of an urban, decayed city passed quickly by, yet in that instant, he could tell that the world as he had known it was gone,ended during his absence.

“A right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world. So wake up. Wake up, and smell the ashes.”

Then the voice faded, and the train arrived at the station. A man, who stood in front of the wagon's doors waiting for them to open, paid him a confused gaze. He mumbled something about not seeing him get on, but there was bleakness in his voice, as if he couldn’t even care if strangers appeared on the train from nothing. The doors opened, and the man stepped out.

And outside, a public annunciation echoed with a familiar voice.

“WELCOME. WELCOME TO CITY 17."

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