#idti
Note
I didn't fucking do anything you to. Why are you being such a fucking asshole? What fucking word is it?
- Edwin
I don't like traitors, let alone ones that have caused the death of an Overseer. You can try идти
("idti"), though.:]
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“The Golden Compass” in the His Dark Materials trilogy always makes me think of winter because of all the snow and cold in it, and I absolutely love the original world (a 19th century gaslamp fantasy alternate Earth where everyone’s soul is an external being called a daemon shaped like an animal to reflect them) and I started this fic of Pyro, Darkstar, Haven, Shaw, Fantasma, and some lady Eternals last year. Finally wrapped it up!
You can PROBABLY guess from context, but in this world Muscovy = Russia, Brytain = Britain, and the Kingdom of Auster = Australia.
Tagging @sammysdewysensitiveeyes for Pyro content but you don’t have to read!
“Idti idti idti!” Laynia Petrovna cried out as she shoved St. John Allerdyce on the train.
“Hey!” St. John turned back in the door, “Just because you’re helping me, doesn’t mean you can call me an idiot!”
There were, admittedly, a great many things he’d done to warrant the title. Some people would say that investigating a story of top-tier political corruption in the heart of Muscovy was one of them. St. John, however, would not agree; not in this case, anyway. He’d been an idiot when he’d tried to haggle with a pack of impatient Tartars over the only sled for sale for miles, and he’d most definitely been an idiot when he’d tossed a lit stick of dynamite at a cliff ghast perched on a rock that was JUST above their trail through the winding Siberian mountains, but when it came to journalistic integrity and people knowing the truth, well, there was nothing stupid about that! Even if he had to give his life for that!
And Laynia had to know that too, or else why would she, an agent of the Muscovite government, have turned her back on her very nation to help him escape its clutches and get his story back to the rest of the world? Though the way she saw it--
“Nyet, idti means go!” Laynia said. And in the second that it took her to explain this, the train doors shut, and she and her daemon were trapped on the locomotive with St. John and his. The color drained from her face, and she whirled around, her long blonde hair whipping behind her from under her furry hat, and she began to beat at the door, but it was too late, the cars were in motion!
“Looks like you’re catching a ride with me, love,” St. John said,
“Might be for the best; truth be told, I was more than a little worried about what might happen to you here.”
“I was going to surrender myself,” Laynia said, her back still to him.
“Exactly! You can’t expect mercy from the State, love---especially knowing what you do now.”
Laynia turned to face him, her expression the collected one of a martyr who had freshly accepted her fate, “Being shown mercy was not the idea. Being honest and accountable was. Just because Mother Muscovy’s leaders have forgotten how to do so, does not mean--”
“And I appreciate that about you, Laynia, I do,” said St. John, “It’s why you saved Heph and mine’s skin instead of bringin’ us in, after all. But right now? Might be better to pipe down and find seats.”
Laynia’s special forces badge and papers would normally have worked in lieu of a ticket but there was a warrant out for her arrest as a traitor now, so she couldn’t pretend to have St. John in custody like she had before on the way here. They had to hide, and quickly, before the ticketmaster got to their car. Laynia and St. John were both people who were used to navigating difficult situations, given their respective careers, and so were their daemons. Hephaestus, being a cat, was a naturally sinuous slinky silent sort. . .most of the time. Well, no, actually, most of the time he was a ball of orange-furred chaos, but like St. John, this belied a capable and wily nature most missed. And while Drioma the white wolf was no small creature---though a trifle daintier built than most of her kind---she had the willowy grace of her human Laynia, her paws as soft through the train car carpeting as they might have been through snow.
Both daemons had one unusual thing in common: they were the same sex as their humans, instead of the opposite as was typical. It was rare but it happened. People said it meant different things. Neither Laynia and St. John had commented on this to the other, neither desiring to bring up one of the most common interpretations, as it was, in their case, the correct one. It was hardly relevant to their situation anyway!
Speaking of daemons though--
“Let’s head to the car for large daemons,” St. John said, “We can hide behind some of ‘em if anyone comes looking.”
“That is a. . .shaking plan,” Laynia said, meaning shakey, “Who is to say the people will let us?”
“You have a better idea?”
She did not, and so they entered the car, with little time to rehearse an explanation. In it were two people, and both were, like their daemons, unusually large. One was a tall (this could be seen even though he was seated) white man well into middle-aged, broad and powerfully built, his dark hair receding on his head but very clearly thriving everywhere else, if the the nearly furry hands that extended from the cuffs of his well-tailored suit were any indication. The woman who sat on the other side of the car was nearly as tall as the man, and her dark bay skin and garb indicated she was from India, an unusual sight indeed in snowy Muscovy. By the side of the man’s seats lay an enormous black ox, and by the woman’s, a white cow of the Brahman breed.
The woman looked mildly surprised, the man irritated, and it was he who spoke first to the strangers, “You’re in the wrong car.”
“Are you lost?” the woman’s voice was kinder, and she stood up, fishing in a beautifully beaded bag til she pulled out a little pamphlet, and unfolding it, said, “This is Car F, so if your car is before that in the alphabet, it’s back that way, and if it’s after---”
“This wouldn’t happen if the Muscovites had a concept of first class and private cars,” the man interrupted, sounding extremely irritated by the fact they did not. St. John pegged his accent as an American.
“So sorry to interrupt, folks,” St. John put on his brightest smile, and Hephaestus stepped forward with his most friendly of expressions,
“We’re part of the entertainment package! It’s such a long ride that the Muscovy Express has seen fit to provide its passengers with a show to pass the time.”
“No thank you,” said the man dryly.
“It’s complimentary,” St. John returned, his smile a trifle tighter.
“I’m not interested.”
“Well, you’re not the only one in the car!”
The ox raised her huge black head.
“Please, sir, madame, it is our jobs,” Laynia and Drioma stepped around Pyro and Hephaestus, “Only let us get through the routine and we will be on our way.”
The man gave a soft snort and picked up a newspaper, while his ox lowered her head. The woman looked with polite expectation at the pair, as did her cow.
And St. John and Laynia looked at each other, then at their daemons, with none of them having any idea what to do.
And that was when something huge hit the side of the train car, and with such force it was knocked to the side, its link to the rest of the train severed, and went tumbling down the enormous snowbank to its left side, its inhabitants spinning and screaming like flakes in a child’s shaken snowglobe.
For a moment, there was silence within the car. Then, the voice of the Indian woman,
“Is anyone hurt? Pralaya, where are you?”
“Here, Radha,” assured a plaintive moo. It was hard to lose an entire cow daemon in such a small container.
“Who touched Opis?!” demanded the large man, while his ox bellowed in equal offense. Daemons might touch each other in violence or friendliness, but for a human to touch another human’s daemon was the greatest taboo, a sense of deepest violation that stretched across cultures.
“How could anyone avoid her, she’s a great bloody cow!” St. John shot back, disentangling his legs from some luggage, “Heph, Hephastus are you hurt mate?!”
“Think I brushed up against someone,” Heph jumped out from between the sideways seats into St. John’s arms and shuddered. Laynia likewise embraced a whimpering Drioma, though silently.
“If anyone touched anyone’s daemon,” the taller woman said, one hand on the velvety hide of her Pralaya as though to reassert their connection over whatever sullying had just occurred,
“It was an uncontrollable accident. We have no way of knowing who touched whom, and it is best to forget it for now.”
“She’s right,” said the large man, though he sounded like he resented that,
“The thing to do now is stay put and wait for rescue. Now, in case it takes them awhile, we’re going to need to work out how to stay warm. This car offers some shelter, but--”
And then the top side of the car was blown off, peeled by invisible force like someone tearing the lid off a can of sardines, metal ripping as easily as tissue paper was shredded, and tossed aside as if it were just as flimsy. The cold air rushed in, as though it had eyes and had spotted them now that their shielding shelter was torn away, eager to sap the warmth from their bodies.
But the cold was not the only threat, nor any longer the most immediate one. Above them, hovering in the air, was a witch. The other knew she must be a witch for the simple fact she was hovering, for only witches could fly., and her sparse attire---downright skimpy, in fact--showed off how her kind was immune to the cold. They knew what she was without knowing her. But Laynia knew her personally, by name.
“Fantasma!” the blonde cried out in recognition.
“Friend of yours?” St. John asked.
“Laynia Petrovna,” the witch called Fantasma called down in a voice as imperious and cold as the swirling snow on the wind,
“You stand accused of treason to the great nation of Muscovy by aiding and abetting the spy St. John Allerdyce and his daemon, who also stands accused of the aforementioned acts. You are BOTH under arr--”
“How dare you madam!” The large man pointed an accusing finger up at Fantasma, who looked taken aback at the interruption. He continued,
“You are absolutely incompetent! You derailed an entire train car, containing private citizens who are not under your jurisdiction, to obtain these criminals?! Why could you not simply fly by a window and break in?! Or await the train at its destination?! You have caused me more than a massive inconvenience---I’ve been separated from my luggage, I could have been seriously hurt, and I could yet be made ill by the cold! How are you going to remedy this? To compensate?”
“I---that is not my concern!” Fantasma regained her composure. But while the man had been ranting, St. Pyro and Laynia had slipped off into the snowy woods with their daemons! Snarling as soon as she had spotted this, Fantasma flew in the direction of their tracks, leaving the man shouting behind her and his ox daemon bellowing in tandem.
When it was clear she was not going to return to do anything to help his situation, however, he turned to the woman, who had pulled her dupattra---velvet, an unusually heavy fabric for such a garment, but still such a flimsy thing in the frigid face of the Siberian weather-- around her tightly, her massive daemon pressing tightly against her like a cat, so much so she was in danger of being knocked over by her.
“I don’t suppose you have any wilderness survival skills?” he asked snappishly, and then without waiting for an answer,
“I’m a city boy myself, born and bred, but at least I had the sense to dress somewhat adequately for the weather. Here, let me loan you my coat---loan, mind you---while I dig into our luggage. We’ll pile on everything we can and I’ll find a way to start a fire. You just...stand there and be useless, I suppose.”
She did stand there, speaking softly to her white daemon, which blended against the snows as much as she stood out brilliantly from them with her dark skin and bright clothing.
“Excuse me,” she spoke to the man, but her voice was lost in the sounds of him rifling through the trunks and suitcases.
“Excuse me,” she said again, slightly louder. Still no response. Her daemon lowed, gentle but more than audible, and both the black ox and the man turned their heads in tandem with matching irate expressions.
“What?”
“We will find help swiftly if we go this way,” she said, pointing into the trees to a particularly lumpy. . .path was too generous a term.
“How the devil do YOU know?” he demanded, his irritation increased and joined by disbelief.
“You may have noticed Pralaya is a female daemon,” she said, placing a hand on her cow.
“Wasn’t my place to comment,” he grunted.
“There are many reasons one might have a daemon of one’s own sex. I cannot speak for if most are true. But the claim that those with a daemon who matches you in gender means that one possesses a second sight. . .it is true for me. Pralaya knows things, and she tells me, but what relays them to her, neither of us know. We only know that these insights are never wrong.”
“I am not about to burn my energy and leave this shelter, broken though it may be, to traipse through this frozen waste on the words of a madwoman stranger.”
“I understand, I do. It does sound unbelievable, and I do not blame you for your hesitation. But this circumstance is dire–”
“Which is why I will not!”
“For your own sake–”
“Exactly!”
They went on like this for a bit, til Pralaya tugged at the woman’s long garb with her teeth in something far too delicate to be called a bite, and spoke to her. As was typical between human and daemon, it was not said loud enough for anyone else to hear; daemons nearly always spoke only to the person to whom they belonged, for a daemon was one’s own soul made flesh. How strange would it be, if someone’s soul spoke casually to others?
The woman looked from Pralaya, and then back to the man his equally obstinate daemon, the latter of which stood glaring at them as he resumed digging for extra coats.
“I’ll come back for you,” she promised, “When I get help. And to return your coat. Thank you for it.”
He grunted, and whether that was in response to her or just a sound of animal effort, she didn’t know, and she made no more fanfare as she departed down the path—or lack thereof—she had pointed towards, one hand on Pralaya to help keep her balance through its treacherous little hills and valleys and hidden holes.
The man never looked up.
***
Blasts of magic rained down at Laynia and St. John like deadly hail. They had dodged it thus far, as evident by being alive and in one piece each, but each one impeded them further even though they didn’t hit; the force of the mystic blows sent explosions of snow shooting up wherever they landed, making it hard for the pair to see where they were going. With every step, they grew clumsier and more disoriented, and the same was true for their daemons, who were closer to the ground. The cuckoo bird daemon of the witch Fantasma only served to exacerbate this, swooping down at the other daemons and tearing at them with her beak and claws as much as she could through their fur. She would not touch another human, but daemon to daemon contact was, again, permitted in acts of love or war.
Of course, this wasn’t so much a war, as Fantasma saw it, as a massacre. At least, that was what she was intending.
“My orders did NOT dictate I must bring you alive!” she cried from above where she soared like a bird herself. A bird of prey. Prey that was fast growing exhausted. St. John stumbled into a tree, blinded by the snow, and Drioma had to pull Laynia by the coat using her mouth so that her human would not collapse.
“It would perhaps be mercy to end you here,” Fantasma said with cold factuality as she hovered above them, her cuckoo crowing beside her,
“The torture you will endure for your crimes will make you wish I had.”
She raised her hands. Magic gathered around them in crackling purple energy like ball lightning.”
All St. John, Layna, and their daemons could do was brace themselves.
And then Fantasma was sent hurtling into a tree, her cuckoo daemon crying out from her human’s pain. Hovering behind where the witch had once been were three more women, indisputably also women from the fact they too were flying. Three of them, all black-haired, all around the same apparent age, though doubtless far older; witches did age and die eventually, but their longevity far outstripped a normal person. As with all witches, their daemons were bird: A peacock (airborne despite true peacocks being flightless), a peregrine falcon, and a great gray parrot. The trio of birds took after the reeling cuckoo, which tried to evade, but the peregrine falcon is the fastest of birds—the fastest of all creatures in the world–and the smaller daemon had barely begun his escape before he was snatched in the peregrine’s talons. Just as her cuckoo had cried out with her pain, Fantasma cried out with his, reaching out as she thrashed in the snow, feeling as if her sides were about to bleed from the talons that held her living soul fast in his clutches.
Despite what she had been about to do to them, Laynia pitied her. It was a horrible thing to be trapped, she knew firsthand. And who could NOT pity someone whose daemon was harmed?
St. John, that’s who!
“That’s it!” St. John jumped to his feet, his hissing daemon mimicking the action, “Kill her, ladies! Take her out!”
“That is the intention,” said one of the women, with light brown skin and long wavy hair. The parrot hovered by her shoulder. The peacock appeared to belong to the pale woman with long straight hair, which meant the peregrine falcon must be the daemon of the dark-skinned woman with short, very curly hair. The woman who spoke continued,
“Makkari, you may–”
“No. Please, no. Wait.”
To the far left of them all, stood the tall woman and her white cow daemon. She spoke softly, yet her words carried as powerfully as the magical blasts had. Even the witches looked stunned. Indeed, they looked far more surprised than Laynia and St. John did, as if they perceived something when they looked at her that the other pair did not.
Very likely, they did.
“My daemon speaks to me with second sight,” she said towards the witches, her tone suggesting she was answering something they had not asked allowed,
“She knows what it is you wonder: why a fellow witch is in the service of men, why she went so far astray, helped in the persecution your kind and others. Please, stay your hand; she is not to blame. Like the form her daemon takes, she is a bird in the wrong nest through no fault of her own.”
Fantasma stared at her evidently confused. Before she could ask, the woman spoke towards her,
“I know you do not know. It’s alright. All will be made clear.”
“Listen, I’m sure we’d all love that, love, but think we could get out of this cold soon?” St. John asked, “Don’t want to be rude, but now that adrenaline’s worn off, I think I’m about t—”
And he passed out.
* * *
When he came to, he and Hephastus were in the plush cabin of an extraordinarily lavish zeppelin. In it was Laynia, the tall woman, and their respective dameons.
“Oh good,” the tall woman said warmly, almost as much as the wonderful interior heating, “The doctor said you’d wake soon, but I was worried.”
“He said you’re just thin and not used to all that cold, coming from the Kingdom of Auster,” Layna added, “Anway, this is Radha Dastoor, called Haven in the west, and we’re in her zeppelin.”
“Heading to Brytain,” Haven added.
“And you were taking a TRAIN before?” St. John goggled incredulously.
“Pralaya told me to be there,” she said, placing a hand on the white cow that sat curled at her feet like a cat.
“Yeah, about that. . .” St. John sat up rubbing his head, “What was it she told you that you told those witches? What happened to the one after us?”
And Radha explained how the witch Fantasma had been an unwilling changeling, found amnesiac by the Muscovite branch of the Magisterium after one of their assaults on witchkind. The Magisterium, the all-powerful church, was worldwide, omnipresent and often omnipotent, and devoted to stamping out heresy. . .yet not, apparently, opposed to using heretics for their own purposes, yet properly reprogrammed.
“How’d you know?” John asked.
“I. . .felt it when I became close to her,” Haven explained, “I wish I could give a better explanation. My daemon is more than my soul—she is as a conduit for second sight, feelings, messages. . .I didn’t know the whole story when I arrived on the scene, but as we sorted it out. . .well, she’s alive. Her fellow witches took her back into their fold. She’ll get her memory back in time.”
“The Magisterium. . .damn, what a story,” St. John shifted thougtfully, “They’d be worse than a million Muscovy governments, o’ course, but what a story.”
“Please, don’t,” Laynia begged.
“Oh, I won’t—but only because I don’t have proof,” St. John said, sitting up entirely now, “Besides, first I got to blow the door open on your god old Mother State!”
Laynia sighed. St. John didn’t see why. Muscovy had betrayed her, not the other way round.
“Oh,” he said, considering one more time, “What happened to that big ugly bastard, the one with the ox daemon?”
“Oh, Mr. Shaw and Opis are just fine,” Haven smiled.
“When we came back to the train car, they were both fending off wolves,” Layia explained, “And winning, too. You see, the wolves were attracted to the smell of the bear that he’d ALREADY fought and killed for its coat and meat.”
“It really does surprise me,” said Haven in the most casual of tones,”He had assured me he was a city boy.”
END
I kinda cheated by taking the “and then he passed out and had everything explained to him after” shortcut but I ran out of steam!
As a note on Drioma and Hephaestus, I picked them to be the same gender as Laynia and St. John because, duh, they’re gay, and that’s ONE of the reasons someone might not have an opposite-gender daemon. Another might be having second sight like Haven. Pullman basically goes with “I don’t know, you make it up” on a lot of stuff when asked, which I love.
I picked a wolf for Laynia because they’re loyal pack animals; soldiers and servants in the books are often depicted with dog and wolf daemons. I picked the name Drioma after a Slavic spirit of the evening and the night. Hephaestus is of course after the god; I felt like that reflected both St. John’s creative nature (god of the forge) and also a nod to his powers as Pyro in canon (god of volcanoes). He’s an orange cat because I think the chaotic blend of impulsive and intelligence is pretty perfect for him.
All witches are women and they all have bird daemons. Fantasma’s is a cuckoo because of their tendency to replace the babies of other birds. Ajak’s is a parrot because in canon, her talent is to be able to speak to the Celestials. Makkari’s is a peregrine falcon for their speed. And Sersi’s is a peacock because of their beauty and association with pride.
For Shaw and Haven: Opis was the Roman earth goddess of wealth and oxen because of their association with hard work and strength but also aggression, and Pralaya as in the Hindu cosmological term (Mahapralaya means great pralaya) and a cow for their associations with motherliness, nurturing, and their presence as a sacred or sacrificial symbol in many faiths, especially being important in Hinduism.
Hope you enjoyed!
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Masterlist of every Podolyak interview I’ve found
Additions and corrections welcome!
2022
August
https://www.bbc.com/ukrainian/features-62468750
https://www.lefigaro.fr/international/la-russie-utilise-la-strategie-des-attaques-terroristes-pour-demoraliser-les-ukrainiens-20220804
July
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=52RO-E9ht-k ( DW Українською video )
June
https://babel.ua/texts/80366-mihaylo-podolyak-120-dniv-zhive-v-ofisi-prezidenta-yogo-kritikuye-sekretar-rnbo-danilov-a-vin-pafosno-kritikuye-zahid-rozpovidaye-pro-neobhidnu-zbroyu-i-vtrati-ukrajini-na-viyni-velike-interv-yu
The Danilov interview it references: https://www.liga.net/ua/politics/interview/danilov-podolyak-golos-armii-ya-ego-videl-tolko-na-penkah-u-yanukovicha
https://news.zerkalo.io/economics/15939.html?tg
https://interfax.com.ua/news/interview/836334.html
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwirhQPaTxg (video, French)
May
https://lb.ua/news/2022/05/30/518384_mihaylo_podolyak_ti_mozhesh_sisti.html
April
https://www.rbc.ua/rus/news/mihail-podolyak-budem-idti-minsk-3-budapesht-1649367255.html
https://www.radiosvoboda.org/a/podolyak-perehovory-rosiya/31825518.html
March
https://twitter.com/infofrance2/status/1504466907512156161?lang=de (video, French)
2021
September
https://glavcom.ua/country/politics/radnik-bankovoji-mihaylo-podolyak-razumkov-vidkrito-galmuje-iniciativi-prezidenta-784501.html
June
https://glavcom.ua/country/politics/golovniy-tehnolog-bankovoji-mihaylo-podolyak-volodimir-oleksandrovich-katastrofichno-viris-764528.html
2020
December
https://web.archive.org/web/20220301153951/https://fakty.ua/363875-mihail-podolyak-u-nas-net-deficita-sredstv-dlya-borby-s-koronavirusom-isteriku-ob-uzhasah-v-bolnicah-razgonyayut-media
A description of the Arestovych incident: https://m.gordonua.com/news/war/ukrainskiy-voennyy-telo-kotorogo-vernuli-boeviki-byl-zadushen-ranee-v-tkg-govorili-chto-on-umer-ot-intoksikacii-1532237.html
November
https://www.pravda.com.ua/articles/2020/11/12/7273246/
https://babel.ua/ru/texts/54885-oligarhi-investirovali-kapitaly-v-slugu-naroda-teper-pytayutsya-reshat-svoi-zadachi-sovetnik-glavy-op-mihail-podolyak-o-medvedchuke-poroshenko-i-rabote-s-shariem-intervyu
August
https://web.archive.org/web/20201003174606/https://strana.ua/articles/interview/282016-mikhail-podoljak-vpervye-dal-intervju-o-svoej-rabote-mediasovetnika-v-ofise-prezidenta.html
https://www.radiosvoboda.org/a/30766094.html
Tagging @summeroffice :DDD
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Russian warship go fuck yourself - but the classic way.
A little language lesson, for y'all.
How to say "russian warship go fuck yourself". In russian it's said as "русский военный корабль, иди на хуй" (russkiy voyeniy korabl', idi na hui).
Русский (russkiy) - means russian. It's used here to describe that something is russian, but it can also be used for a person. For example: он русский/on russkiy = he's russian. Another way to say "a russian person", is to say "россиянин/rossiyanin", or "орк/orc"
Военный (voyeniy) - war, but as an adjective. We don't have the word "warship" as a single word, so the use of "voyeniy" is there, to tell that the ship is used for war. War, in itself, as a noun, is "война/voina".
Корабль (korabl') - means ship. Nothing much to add there.
Иди (idi) - go, but in a form of a request (or, in this case, order). To go, in it's neutral form, is "идти/idti".
На хуй (na hui) - is a little harder to translate in English. The best equivalent would be "fuck off", but, if we take it literally, "na" means on, and "hui" is a vulgar term for penis. So "idi na hui" would mean "go on a dick". It's also better to say it like a single word "нахуй/nahui".
I hope you've learned something useful today.
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Some onomastics idk
Had an idea of making an onomasticon made from the most frequent letters in English
Those would be EAOITNSHR
But I thought, "Hey, that's not much of a variation is it?"
So I looked up the most frequent bigrams and trigrams in English, extending the whole thing to this: The And Tha Ent Ing Ion Tio For Nde Has Nce Edt Tis Oft Sth Men Th He In Er An Re Nd At On Nt Ha Es St En Ed To It Ou Ea Hi Is Or Ti As Te Et Ng Of Al De Se Le Sa Si Ar Ve Ra Id Ur T N S H R E A O I
Then I thought "Why not make a list of all possible bigraphemic names? So to GenWord I went and with some magic I did the thing*
So here are all possible "names" consisting of maximum two graphemes shown above:
Ade Ah Aha Ahas Ahe Ahi Al Ale Alh Alhas Almen Aln Alnd Alng Alnt Alr Als Alst Alsth Alt Alth Altis Amen An Ance And Ande Andh Andhas Andmen Andn Andnd Andng Andnt Andr Ands Andst Andsth Andt Andth Andtis Ang Anh Anhas Anmen Ann Annd Anng Annt Anr Ans Anst Ansth Ant Anth Antis Ar Ara Are Arh Arhas Armen Arn Arnd Arng Arnt Arr Ars Arst Arsth Art Arth Artis As Asa Ase Ash Ashas Asi Asmen Asn Asnd Asng Asnt Asr Ass Asst Assth Ast Asth Astis At Ate Ath Atha Athas Athe Ati Atio Atis Atmen Atn Atnd Atng Atnt Ato Atr Ats Atst Atsth Att Atth Attis Ave De Eade Eah Eaha Eahas Eahe Eahi Eale Eamen Ean Eance Eand Eande Eang Eant Ear Eara Eare Eas Easa Ease Easi East Easth Eat Eate Eath Eatha Eathe Eati Eatio Eatis Eato Eave Ed Ede Edh Edhas Edmen Edn Ednd Edng Ednt Edr Eds Edst Edsth Edt Edth Edthas Edtis Edtmen Edtn Edtnd Edtng Edtnt Edtr Edts Edtst Edtsth Edtt Edtth Edttis Eh Eha Ehas Ehe Ehi Ele Emen En Ence End Ende Eng Enh Enhas Enmen Enn Ennd Enng Ennt Enr Ens Enst Ensth Ent Enth Enthas Entis Entmen Entn Entnd Entng Entnt Entr Ents Entst Entsth Entt Entth Enttis Er Era Ere Erh Erhas Ermen Ern Ernd Erng Ernt Err Ers Erst Ersth Ert Erth Ertis Es Esa Ese Esh Eshas Esi Esmen Esn Esnd Esng Esnt Esr Ess Esst Essth Est Esth Estis Et Ete Eth Etha Ethas Ethe Eti Etio Etis Etmen Etn Etnd Etng Etnt Eto Etr Ets Etst Etsth Ett Etth Ettis Eve Ha Hasa Hase Hasea Hasi Haso Hasou He Hea Hi Ho Hou Id Ide Idh Idhas Idmen Idn Idnd Idng Idnt Idr Ids Idst Idsth Idt Idth Idtis Ih Iha Ihas Ihe Ihi Ile Imen In Ince Ind Inde Ing Ingh Inghas Ingmen Ingn Ingnd Ingng Ingnt Ingr Ings Ingst Ingsth Ingt Ingth Ingtis Inh Inhas Inmen Inn Innd Inng Innt Inr Ins Inst Insth Int Inth Intis Ion Ionh Ionhas Ionmen Ionn Ionnd Ionng Ionnt Ionr Ions Ionst Ionsth Iont Ionth Iontis Ir Ira Ire Is Isa Ise Ish Ishas Isi Ismen Isn Isnd Isng Isnt Isr Iss Isst Issth Ist Isth Istis It Ite Ith Itha Ithas Ithe Iti Itio Itis Itmen Itn Itnd Itng Itnt Ito Itr Its Itst Itsth Itt Itth Ittis Ive Le Mena Mene Menea Meni Meno Menou Na Nce Nda Nde Ndea Ndi Ndo Ndou Ne Nea Nga Nge Ngea Ngi Ngo Ngou Ni No Nou Nta Nte Ntea Nti Nto Ntou Ode Of Ofh Ofhas Ofmen Ofn Ofnd Ofng Ofnt Ofr Ofs Ofst Ofsth Oft Ofth Ofthas Oftis Oftmen Oftn Oftnd Oftng Oftnt Oftr Ofts Oftst Oftsth Oftt Oftth Ofttis Oh Oha Ohas Ohe Ohi Ole Omen On Once Ond Onde Ong Onh Onhas Onmen Onn Onnd Onng Onnt Onr Ons Onst Onsth Ont Onth Ontis Or Ora Ore Orh Orhas Ormen Orn Ornd Orng Ornt Orr Ors Orst Orsth Ort Orth Ortis Os Osa Ose Osi Ost Osth Ot Ote Oth Otha Othe Oti Otio Otis Oto Oude Ouh Ouha Ouhas Ouhe Ouhi Oule Oumen Oun Ounce Ound Ounde Oung Ount Our Oura Oure Ous Ousa Ouse Ousi Oust Ousth Out Oute Outh Outha Outhe Outi Outio Outis Outo Ouve Ove Ra Re Rea Ri Ro Rou Sa Se Sea Si So Sou Sta Ste Stea Stha Sthe Sthea Sthi Stho Sthou Sti Sto Stou Ta Te Tea Tha The Thea Thi Tho Thou Ti Tio Tisa Tise Tisea Tisi Tiso Tisou To Tou Ur Urh Urhas Urmen Urn Urnd Urng Urnt Urr Urs Urst Ursth Urt Urth Urtis Ve
Some of them are quite unpronounceable but anyways.
Here's the GenWord settings for this:
--CATEGORIES--
A=eaoiOE
B=tnshrHTSMтNнсг
C=1234567890ЙЦУКЕНГШЩЗХЪФЫ
D=ВАПРОЛДЖЭЯЧСМИТЬБЮю
--REWRITE--
O||ou
E||ea
H||has
T||tis
S||sth
M||men
т||th
N||nd
н||nt
с||st
г||ng
1||and
2||ent
3||ing
4||ion
5||edt
6||oft
7||in
8||er
9||an
0||at
Й||on
Ц||es
У||en
К||ed
Е||it
Н||is
Г||or
Ш||as
Щ||et
З||of
Х||al
Ъ||ar
Ф||id
Ы||ur
В||the
А||tha
П||tio
Р||nde
О||nce
Л||he
Д||re
Ж||ha
Э||to
Я||hi
Ч||ti
С||te
М||de
И||se
Т||le
Ь||sa
Б||si
Ю||ve
ю||ra
--MONO--
--MID--
--INIT--
AB
BA
CB
AD
C
D
--FINAL--
--FLAGS--
1 0 monoRare dropoffSlow
--ADVANCED--
10
50
750
30
||
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OverDrive о Cloud9: «А смысл Дену туда идти, если Boombl4 тоже минус?»
ИнсайдерАлексей OverDrive Бирюков подшутил над шумихой вокруг трансфера участника Cloud9 ДенисаelectroNic Шарипова вVirtus.pro. Контент-мейкер н...
Подробнее на https://7ooo.ru/group/2024/04/15/705-overdrive-o-cloud9-a-smysl-denu-tuda-idti-esli-boombl4-tozhe-minus-grss-299360840.html
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Хью Грант объяснил, почему боится идти в политику
Ранее актер подумывал сменить сферу деятельности Хью Грант снимется в четвертом фильме о Бриджит Джонс с участием Колина Ферта и Рене Зеллвегер.
Подробнее https://7ooo.ru/group/2024/03/27/532-hyugrant-obyasnil-pochemu-boitsya-idti-vpolitiku-grss-293800451.html
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What is your greatest fear?
...Ya ne khochu, chtoby komu-to iz moyey sem'i prishlos' idti na voynu...
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Les mots russes pour voyager
Здравствуйте (Zdravstvuyte) – Bonjour (formel)Привет (Privet) – Salut (informel)Спасибо (Spasibo) – MerciПожалуйста (Pozhaluysta) – S’il vous plaîtДа (Da) – OuiНет (Net) – NonИзвините (Izvinite) – Excusez-moiКак вас зовут? (Kak vas zovut?) – Comment vous appelez-vous ?Меня зовут (Menya zovut) – Je m’appelleГде находится…? (Gde nakhoditsya…?) – Où se trouve…?Куда идти? (Kuda idti?) – Où aller…
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2022, The Year of Growth
Well, 2022 officially ended, it’s currently 020123 1121H. I’m currently at Mellower, a cafe near Bugis station in Singapore. Ordered a $9 pour-over coffee (Why is pour over so expensive when the equipment needed is so much cheaper than espressos?), and writing a brief reflection on the year of 2022. So many things happened recently and in the past year. I was recently appointed as 2IC (Second-in-Command) and will serve a term of three months before appointing the next one. That aside, let’s take a trip down memory lane, month by month, and see how 2022 helped me to grow.
January
Here’s the turning point of my life, really, enlistment month. Jan 2nd, I shaved off all my hair, and on Jan 6th, I reported to camp, ready (or not so ready), for my first day on Tekong Island. After falling sick, and booking out, during confinement week, I went home for a short rest before heading back in, and on January 21st, alongside my section mates, we all booked out for the first time together, taking a commemorative photo on the bus. Special shoutout to my section mates Jeremy, PC, Hifzillah, Hansel, Enrico, Solomon, Darren, Xavier, John, Wei Zhe, Theijes, and Taiyu for sticking it through BMT together.
February
Queue my obsession with Coffee and cafe hopping. During the next few months, I spent so much money on cafe hopping with my friend Irving.; It was... pretty bad. We went once per bookout, going to roughly 4 or 5 cafes per session. My bank account would not be this sad if we had cut back on the amount of cafes we went to. Oh yea, we also went to PS Cafe at Dempsey Hill, and there was this mad cute waitress there. Her smile, the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Even though she was wearing a mask, the way her eyes smiled as well, oh man. My friends also threw me an early birthday celebration and I got to eat Aunty Shirley’s to-die-for Ondeh Ondeh Cake. My cousin’s threw me a celebration as well, it was a lovely time. On my actual birthday, I went shopping by myself, I ate at a semi fancy Japanese restaurant, and bought myself a watch, further expanding my watch collection.
March
POP loh! Congrats to Mohawk Company on the Passing Out Parade, although virtual, it was definitely a celebratory moment. Completion of our 2 months in Tekong Island. I received the “Best in Platoon” award. We got a 5 day block leave, which I fell sick on and wasted 5 days of leave, but received our postings on the Friday of that week. SEA SOLDIER, it said. What’s that? well.... it’s essentially a naval security trooper. I dreaded the idea of being a security trooper, after all, they were just called glorified security guards. However, I would come to call ourselves as Base Defense Specialists. I reported to IDTI (Island Defense Training Instituition) at Clementi Camp for a 5 week security trooper course. Aside from that, I went to Uncle Alvin’s house and prepared a 3 course meal with Ashley for friends. It was a sashimi starter, which required some plating work, a beef steak served with sweet potato puree, and desert was an apple ratatouille with fresh cream.
April
First ever bouldering session at Bukit Timah Bff Climb w/ PC and Enrico. Absolutely grateful to PC for introducing us to this sport. We started climbing more with friends from BMT, and still do to this day. At IDTI I learned to fire a GPMG, really cool. One thing to note, this gun can explode... so ya gotta move quick. All in all, what an experience, not every0one is trained to fire 2 guns. Halfway through april, I graduated from IDTI and earned my second “Best in Platoon” award. From here, I was posted to DSTB (Defense and Security Training Branch) at Tuas Naval Base. Here, we went through a 3 week Naval Conversion Course. After which I graduated, without an award :( ahahahahah.
May
Welcome to Changi Defense Squadron. I was resolute on joining the boating team at Changi Naval Base. After arguing my way to be posted far from my home, I was informed that, due to my health, I would be unable to join that boating team. During another short 3 week training course at HQ, we took a couple tests, and turned out on the last day of our training. I will never forget that turnout. Officers we had never seen before kicked open the door with a speaker blasting an air raid siren and started shouting at us. Since we had never seen them before, and as they were not in uniform, we all thought it was a prank played on us by our seniors. However, with the emergence of our training officer, we scrambled our bearings together and rushed downstairs. It is here, that I would like to note that, since this was the last day, we all had made Ice tea to consume together. However, we were forced to pour it out and fill our bottles back up with water. being in a rush, this left us with a mixture of half ice tea half water. After dropping 60 over push ups, and bear crawling around the parking lot, we stood at attention for a water parade, where, our officer instructed us to pour our water over ourselves reasoning that “Y’all are sea soldiers. Why y’all scared of a bit of water. You think the rain will stop for you isit? Fucking pour the water now!” Yea, fun times.
210522
Well, this was it, the last straw. I know this is already a pretty long post, but I think this was probably one of the most important days of the year. The last few messages I ever sent to Nat. It probably wasn’t the best way to end things? Neither was it very conclusive? I just kinda stopped texting her after that. From graduation till this day, I texted her every now and then to check up on her, hoping that a relationship was still possible after I made my return to Canada. Today was the final day. The whole time I was writing posts about giving up, I never actually meant them. It was the sort of copium you’d think it was. Delusional. It was tough. tough not to talk to her, tough not to want to just slip a message to her. Just to say hi or something. But anyways, it’s been, what, 7 months now? I hit the living fuck out of the gym, I started going out with friends more, I started to seize life by the throat, I didn’t want to wait around any longer. I think I can confidently say I’m no longer obsessed with the delusion, but I do think she still holds a very special place in my heart, i just, never want to see her again. Well, this would make class reunions a little biut awkward, but oh well. Yeah, I wish I don’t see or hear from her again, who knows what will happen if I do. But you know what they say, be careful what you wish for.
June
Gym, and a lot of it. I started experiencing bad back pain back in April. This was when one of my sergeants in IDTI suggested I start training my back. He noticed that my arms and chest were developed, however, my back might not have had the strength to support that weight. So, well, here begins my gym journey. I never really documented any progress, just took the occasional mirror photo every once in a while. But, I started off not being able to deadlift, now hitting 150kg 1 rep. Benching 60kg, and squatting 60kg. I gained overall probably another 6kg, but It’s not all muscle. Working on that.
To Be Cont’d...
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Действующий глава Рубцовска
Действующий глава Рубцовска решил идти на второй срок http://vybor-naroda.org/lentanovostey/230089-dejstvujuschij-glava-rubcovska-reshil-idti-na-vtoroj-srok.html
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«Это может изменить Apple к лучшему»: Masimo намерена идти до конца в борьбе с Apple
Смарт-часы Watch Series 9 и Watch Ultra 2 вернули в продажу, поскольку Apple удалось добиться приостановки запрета до вынесения решения по данному делу таможенной службы США, но это мера временная и патентный спор Apple с производителем медицинского оборудования Masimo по-прежнему далёк от завершения. В интервью The Wall Street Journal (WSJ) гендиректор Masimo Джо Киани (Joe Kiani) заявил, что он полон решимости бороться с Apple до конца. Источник изображения: Apple
Подробнее на https://7ooo.ru/group/2024/01/01/982-eto-mozhet-izmenit-apple-k-luchshemu-masimo-namerena-idti-do-konca-v-borbe-s-apple-grss-270046579.html
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