General LU Headcanons Part 2

Here's part 2 of my general headcanons and how I see/write the boys! This one will have Sky Warrior and Wild!

Part 1 Part 3

Sky

Always sleep the exact amount of time needed to feel fully rested

He won't wake up before that, unless they're under attack of course

He's a really heavy sleeper and snores quite a bit

He doesn't know what to think of the fact that destroying his stuff has become kind of a habit now

Between Hyrule showing off, Wild cooking with explosives, of all things, and Time accidentally dropping his bag into a pit

He's not even upset about it, because they've all been accidents, and nothing valuable has been lost, but still

They always help him get his stuff back, but it just keeps happening for some reasons

He starts to think it's payback for Demise's curse

He loves getting lost in towns

It's a way of discovering a new place that he grew fond of, for some reason

Especially when he finds little places in towns that are clearly not visited often, it feels like he discovered a beautiful little secret

He feels special

He'll sometimes try to get or carve a little trinket to the others from places they've been to, as he's really into gift giving

He has a lot of composure when it comes to injuries, but he doesn't like the smell of it

He'll help if they need to, but he'd rather do the caregiving part than first aid

It's even worse with illnesses

He gets kind of paranoid, but at least that makes him really good at keeping a good hygiene, even in a not so clean environment

He won't be on babysitting duty if germs are involved, but he'll keep everything nice and clean to make sure no one else contracts it

Warrior

Light sleeper

He moves a lot in his sleep, and sometimes wakes himself up like that

He's one of the first one to rise up in the morning but always stays in bed late

He likes listening to the sounds of the world still peacefully asleep around him

Despite being a high graded knight, he doesn't easily trust the military

Or maybe it's because he's so high ranked that he can see how corruptible it can be

And after hearing some of the stories the other told him, he's even more on guard

He does trust his soldiers tho, and hopes his teammates will trust them too if they end up in his Hyrule

He always indulges in shenanigans when Wind is the one asking for it

Hyrule can wear him down too, but not as much

He pretends it's to keep an eye on them, but the guy loves his fun too

Very fond of old people

Will always help them carry groceries or cross a road or something

And always with a dashing smile. They reward him with candy sometimes, and he keeps it all to himself

He knows how to charm his way into getting answers from people, but he sucks at bargaining and can get scammed easily, which is why Legend comes with him whenever they need a supply run

He learned first aid during the War, and learned to improvise when he needed to, so he's the first one to start checking on everyone after a fight

He'll do a general check up on everyone, rank injuries by severity, and then get to work to tend to them

If at least two others are in good enough shape, he'll point them to where they need to help, so everyone can be taken care of before it gets too bad

Hyrule's composure and Wild's endless potion stash are his best allies in this situation

Wild

Nightmares

He swear they're more memories than nightmares

He rarely remembers them, to his endless frustration

He wakes up early most of the time, but often in a good mood

He loves making breakfast for everyone, but loves it even more when one of them joins him to help

He just likes sharing stuff he knows, so sharing knowledge about his favorite activity? Sign him up

He kind of stopped hoping he could teach anything about cooking to Hyrule tho, but he understands potion crafting at least

Wild makes most of them so they don't have to buy them

He doesn't know shit about traditional medecine tho, he runs on potions only

Very ingenious, but always in the wrong way

As in, he has a curious mind and good ideas, but it's always to do some fucked up dangerous stunt

Twilight tries to stop him most of the time, but he lost all of his authority on him the day they all learned he shot himself out of a canon on his first adventure

Wild has been on the loose since then

He often go on exploring trips on his own when they set up camp in a new place, he needs his alone time

He loves the group! But he got used to being alone for months, and sometimes being around that many people for too long can be too much

They don't mind, tho

Ironically, he hates seeing injuries, but doesn't mind scavenging monster viscera to make stronger potions

A broken finger? A deep cut? He's not looking

But butchering a bokoblin and carving out its organs with a rusty knife? Yeah why not

He wishes he had more time to craft more potions, or to go collect more materials for said potions

So he could just hand over the potions to everyone instead of holding onto wet bandages to stop the bleedings, or hold his friend down when his other friend puts bones back in place

It's gross. He's gonna focus on the potions

25, 32, 42, 44, and 49 for Fan!

25. What are their hobbies and interests? Fannar likes to cook, something he has gotten from his mom. He, much like Vy, loves to make tasy healthy meals that no one would imagine was healthy, as well as anything sweet and chocolaty, as he has the typcial dragon sweet tooth. He works as a doctor, and one of his main interrests, that he often works with Arlo on, is finding new ways to heal people, specially the ones say you can't help. He also dabbles slightly in painting, and he likes to play the guitar, nothing fancy, but still.

32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively? His default is to be defensive and to a point evasive. He would rather not have to stress, but when he has to, he can become fairly defensive in his way of being, and with that trying to in many ways to get to evasive stage where he can get away from it. After all he and Arlo has been through, stress is not good for either of them so they do their best to be evasive.

42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

They would want Arlo to be fully well, and functioning perfectly, and he is willing to spend the rest of his life working to attain that goal even if he does realize it might never happen. He still limits himself to doing it within the boundaries of not hurting anyone to get to his goal, but he is willing to push limits in any other way he can. He is very much a healer at heart, and well he can stretch extreamly far for any of his patients as well, to the point where Arlo sometimes has to sit him down and talk him off doing something compulsive.

44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them?

They would want to just med everything pretty badly, but they have learned from their mom that some things you just can't force fix. Like Vy had to learn with Hayden, was to make it better, but perhaps never be able to fix. So his life objectives are to keep himself and Arlo as good as they can be, and of course, see their kids end up happy and fulfilling what they want with their life. Their way of pursuing the first is to keep working on new medecines, and new ways to help Arlo (and other clients) and for the secound part, he just wants to be there for them, whatever it might be. And to never have another Apollo vs Arlo situation with their twins. (for this they would both basically push themselves to the end of the earth to make it not end as it did between apollo and his twin.)

49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent?

Fannar has a surprisingly low voice (Singing voice claim for a good idea of how he sounds), and whenever he speaks its not like you expect from seeing him and it generally surprises people. He is very soft spoken though, and the combo seem to catch people very off guard but in a good way. His way of speaking has a bit of a singing to it, as if it was following the rythm of a song. They have a clear pronounciation, something he had gotten used to the instant he wanted to be a doctor. Not speaking to fast was something his first internship really hammered down.

Thank you for the asks! (I didn't have any of Fan alone I liked, but as I know you like these two together, I went with a couple screenshot)

An apple a day...

Is Circe a good doctor ?

It’s no secret, at least for the player, that Circe is not a kind nor sweet medical worker who heal people just for the good of it.

Circe is not a good-natured person. She knows many ways to inflect pain, is involved in human experimentations, and she seems to enjoy it, as one of her psp secret says : Nothing excites her more than volunteering for crazy science experiments. Funny, since this secret is unlock if you are intimate with her in the game. So it seems to be common knowledge for her partners. Such a mean Sims can’t be a good doctor right ? Well there is stuff to explore.

First, why did she choose such a career path ? She clearly doesn’t care about one ´ s health or well-being. Quite the opposite. Well, I can see three reasons. Money, distinction and her hidden knowledge aspiration.

I. Money :

 Circe is, first and foremost, a fortune Sims. As such she wants to be rich. The prima guide states that there is ideal career path for fortune sims : buisness, criminal and medical. Well, criminal is low-paying until you reach a certain level, and is quite dangerous. Chief of staff is not only a profit-making hight paying job, it’s also a social distinction. 

II. Distinction 

Chief of staff is not only a profit-making hight paying job, it’s also a social distinction. The description reads : You are one of the most respected physicians in SimCity. It’s about recognition and chosing a social and economic identity marker. Doctor are seen, in most culture, as a very succesfull career track. Also, one of her psp secret reavals she ´ s jalous of Loki ´s distinction, meaning she wants ones for herself. But there is an another reason as why she chose the medecine career track.

III. Knowledge.

This also mean shés ambitous and her goal is to reach the top of her career.

Don't let the inconvenience of the truth interfere with your career ambitions! Hone the skills to lie, cheat, and steal with the SensoTwitch Lie Finder. Its patented Brainwave Twitch Needle detects even the tiniest nervous mental tic. Fool the Lie Finder, and you can fool anyone!

That was the description of the infamous SensoTwitch Lie Finder. The "career" ambitions mentionned here are obviously directed to criminals. So why is it so usefull to Circe ? We can always remember that ts2 storylines and events act as a little tutorial and show you some game features. But I prefere to imagine stories behind it. It's too good to be a coincidence. I think the Beakers got or made the lie detector to help them in their career, especially Circe.Of course they are testing it on Nervous first, better be cautious. But then, is she going to practice lying ? It is suppose to convey that Circe could do anything for her glorious career ? Really Anything ? Or does she want to hide her human experimentations ? Both ? I think Circe really will do anything to advance her career, but doesn’t really need to since she is so talented. But, as she becames a more notorious SimsCity Citizen, her reponsabilities and fame can very well blow off everything and the Beakers secret experiments could be exposed. That’s why she is risking her career her. That the core of the Beakers story. Also, let’s not forget she clearly can sell medecine from home. Making profite and medical discoveries are more important than health. Money and Knowledge first. 

A good doctor is not necessarly a nice or kind doctor. It’s a efficient one. Who cares about her intention if she ´s profesional enought. Not caring for her patient but her career is obviously Circe’s mindset. But if moving up the social ladder brings money, it also comes with responsabilites and recognition that could very well be dangerous for our dear Circe. 

Xie Xue is fucking annoying me and I want someone to pur her in her place soon.

She acts the way she does because she has been protected by her brother her whole life. Why is she so surprised that maybe, people would be upset with a doctor saying the kind of things her brother did.

What does it say about how he treated his own patients? Absolutly nothing good.

Also the scene in the parking lot. I have to admit it, I was the little devil on He Yu's shoulder telling him to give her a taste of her own medecine.

Hello, thank you for answering my ask about your rabbits freeroaming outside, it was very informative. One last question: did your rabbits ever got sick from something outside ? (like I said this is the part I'm worried about the most for my bun. E cuniculi is freaking scary, as are all the other rabbits diseases)

Hi! No, my rabbits never caught any illness from the outside (but again we live in the city). I'm lucky because they've only been vaccinated for two years and they're 8 and 9 (before that I was too young to have the right and money to make this choice for them). But now they're fully vaccinated and I've even had them vaccinated every 6 months for the rabbit hemorrhagic disease (RHD) since a new variant appeared in my country last year and my region was the most concerned. It's not necessary anymore and we're back to once a year but like this I had my peace of mind.

As for plant poisoning, once or twice Paquita had diarrhea (not the real kind that's really dangerous) but can't say if it was because of the plants she ate outside or medecine. It was never the kind that was dangerous since it never lasted, wasn't very very liquid (only a few hours) and she never stopped eating. I think you might not be able to avoid it completely but if it's not the bad kind, plenty of water, hay and nothing else for a day always does the trick. Since it happened twice for unknown reasons in 9 years I'd say we're doing good 😊 Of course if it lasts more than a few hours and is extremely liquid you must go the veterinarian.

As for E. Cuniculi, between 30 and 90% bunnies have the illness from birth without developing symptoms. So whatever you do there are always high chances your rabbit does have it in the first place (and will never have any symptom!) Again I think it's important you prevent wild animals from entering your garden as much as possible and often wash the stuff your rabbit uses outside. Two years ago when I first had the girls vaccinated the veterinarian asked if I had ever given an anti-parasite treatment to them since they went outside, and when I said no he proposed a preventive treatment, the best of all: panacur. It's a 28 days long treatment that heals E. Cuniculi (prevents its development if your rabbit has a dorment form) and most other diseases. Really is a miracle treatment also given if E. Cuniculi awakens. I'd also advise to familiarise yourself with all possible symptoms so that you can have this treatment again rapidly to avoid damage if it ever happened.

It's really a good idea to do it since my guinea pig's transit, who has a similar lifestyle, stopped last year and the veterinarian thought it might have been related to parasites. However this treatment isn't given preventively to guinea pigs since they're much more fragile so I couldn't have avoided it. She's alright now though I got extremely scared

So if you're worried, vaccines + panacur cure + proper fence around the garden and your bunny should be as safe as can be. In the end it's your choice, but as I've said before, the happiness of a rabbit that can go outside is immeasurable. And I strongly believe their health gets better and stronger as a result - when the transition to the outside is properly done 😊

Also everything I have written relates to my own experiences in France, and I know treatments aren't used and given in the same way in all countries, so it's better to ask your specialised veterinarian for how things are where you live!

do not reblog please

so i've been stressed about going abroad next semester

i've been accepted to a japan university!! so at first i was so happy because it was a two-year project in the making. i've been working on this since 2020. and it's been hard. the process, the application, money wise, too. having the good grades.

but i'm supposed to leave in three weeks and i have nothing.

because of issues related to japan politics, i still do not have the paper in order to apply for the visa. it should be coming at the end of the month/beginning of september, but it's really short and appointments at the embassy are hard to get.

and anyway i need to have an address in japan, which i do not have, because as of today it is uncertain and i don't have money to waste on making a reservation for any kind of accommodation. all the sharehouses i've contacted have told me i need to wait a few days (literally a few days before moving in!) otherwise it will cost me a lot of money that i absolutely do not have.

other stuff i still not have: vaccinations (i have the covid one but i need to have some for japan especially, it's not obligatory but recommended); insurance (travel and health); medicine (need to make doctors appointments and sign a lot of papers to get my medecine but cannot fill paperwork if i don't have a plane ticket); sponsorship paper to enter japan (need an address in japan for it + it will be issued in a few days after applying for it); etc. seriously the immigration process is insane. i'm full of admiration for any international student i've met through my life right now.

i guess two of my main issues are:

money.

obviously. main issue here. i've calculated the cost before applying, of course, but the reality of it is so much worse than i've anticipated.

it will cost me around 2500€ to move in. Maybe more, considering I don't have a plane ticket as of today. Maybe more for extra costs you don't always see coming around.

i'm not sure i will have the erasmus grand, or rather, if i will have it at its full capacity. as of today, i have no idea where my application stands. they say they will reach in september. in september i'm supposed to be gone already.

last thing, the uni in japan said that having a student job is not really an option. with covid, lots of stuff are still closed and they don't give that much work to foreign people/students.

so money wise, it's v stressful at the moment.

coursework.

this is also a really important issue to me. i've realized this past year that i don't like studying anymore (maybe never did!). i've been working & focusing on my thesis (this i enjoy) and it's really hard for me to get back on track in a real classroom. i simply don't see myself doing that in the future.

the coursework has changed since i've looked at it when i first applied. i don't really find any class interesting for me at this point. they have a lotery system when it's first coming first getting the class kind of for most classes. i need a lot of literature classes and they don't offer that much this semester around. plus it seems they put me in the undergraduate program, which is a bit weird to me.

it is my last year of my master degree. if i don't go to japan, i might stay in europe and take online classes, which are easier for me (i know this is a whole debate related to covid but really. it IS easier for me.) and i don't know, i want to challenge myself of course, as anyone does, but i also need to take care of myself.

moving to the other side of the world is not something i'm scared of. japan has been my dream for a long time now. but maybe i could go next year with more money and more freedom (not any coursework)? like with a Working holiday visa? i really love this country and want to visit it one day.

i don't really know what to do but i have to make a choice really soon. either way, if i go or i don't go, it will still be an adventure! i'm not worried about that. i'll make most of it of any path. but still, it's hard to pass on that opportunity. i know people who will die to go at my place. but i can't be living my life thinking about them all the time. what will be good for me? for my future? no. for my present? maybe that's better. i don't know.

prompt: tdbk in a post-apocalyptic setting (HEHEH)

self-servicing AND a helping hand to a friend in need, we love a good strat

this got incredibly out of hand but i hope you enjoy!!

--

it’s been two months and five days since he last saw someone that katsuki lays eyes on him. two months and five days, and yes, he is fucking keeping score, why wouldn’t he be?

two months and five days is long. two months and five days is long enough that he’s taken up the habit of muttering to himself to fill the air, because dead silence makes him paranoid, always expecting sudden interruption, and he chooses to ignore the fact that muttering to himself is a quirk he might have picked up elsewhere. jesus. if deku, scrawny and asthmatic and perennially, psychotically self-sacrificing, is somehow still alive, he thinks he might be glad to see him again, just out of sheer disbelief.

there’s other people he’d be glad to see. perfect timing, for the zombie apocalypse to erupt right when he’d been on a summer internship in tokyo. to think the old crone had been bitching about it before he’d left- don’t get mugged on the underground, all that shit. like he was some hare-brained tourist. like people didn’t expect him to mug them. whatever. he thinks his parents are safer, out in a smaller city, than anyone has been in tokyo, tells himself it’s not blind hope that makes him explain the radio silence away. it’s statistics, and the geography of the outbreak, and the memory of his mother beating a would-be pickpocket over the head with her shoe until he passed out.

six months ago he’d first walked into his cramped rental flat in tokyo, barely the space to unroll his mat. six days later the pandemic had begun. slowly, first, confusingly, two weeks of shadowing jeanist to court and back while the news got increasingly weirder, and then by the third things took a turn for the fucked, and his parents were calling frantically telling him to come home stat, but by then it was too late. tokyo’s the new york of japan- in sci-fi movies it’s always struck first. the city was on lockdown before he could so much as book a flight out.

that was five months ago. by four and a half his phone carrier service had gone dead.

he doesn’t like to linger on anything, but he especially doesn’t like to linger on what happened between the start and the middle of it, the slow descent from incomprehending disbelief into hell on earth. he doesn’t throw the term around- not one for flowery prose. for the first while there’d been something almost rewarding to it, the whole survival strategy, him and the interns and lawyers at jeanist’s office taking scope of their resources and planning their ways out. now it’s been two months and five days since he’s run into anyone alive, he fails to see the bright side.

the media called them the infected, or the walkers, or some other dumb shit, but everyone knows they’re zombies. it’s some kind of chemical weapon- americans, if you ask him- that’s mutated them, but they’re zombies by anyone’s definition. lumbering, decaying, dead, very keen on extending the invitation. the first time he’d seen one up close- whatever. he’d killed it. he’s killed so many by now he’s lost count, and that’s not an exaggeration. these days he’s not so big on those.

the office had been overrun, in the end. some of the other interns, panicking. bitten. dead. jeanist had held them off while katsuki dragged hysterical staffers out of the window, and the last he’s seen of the man he was catching his unflappable gaze as the doors burst open and jeanist slammed the window shut.

they’d scattered. maybe he would have stayed on, tried the group thing out of a sense of responsibility alone, but there were too many subgroups for him to rotate around. he’d split off, eventually, cut his losses. sometimes he catches someone he recognises walking the streets, wonders when and how and what. he’s still never seen jeanist. he thinks probably he offed himself.

if it ever comes to it that’s what he’s doing. he has a gun ready for it. one bullet. in the apartment he’d stayed in for a while, some forensic doctor’s place, he’d studied the angle that worked best. straight through the temples, angled down.

then there had been that thing with the league. he doesn’t want to think about that, but he does, constantly, because that’s how he knows. two months and five days. the last person he spoke to was that fucking girl.

like zombies weren’t enough- criminals who fancy themselves cultists roam the streets in packs. it’s like every shitty blockbuster movie he’s never bothered to see packed into one.

two months. five days. there’s no way of communicating with the outside world. after he’d shaken off the league he’d had jack shit on him- lost his bag in the initial fight, and his apartment was a lost cause. in the end he’d made his way back to the firm, but that had been a literal dead end too. he’d managed to retrieve, of all things, his phone, skirting the streets around the firm, probably dropped in their original escape. it’s functionally useless but he’s managed to charge it once or twice, stare at old photos and texts that fail to send. he has nothing else of his own except the clothes he’d worn that last day with jeanist.

he’s remade his belongings, obviously. he’s competent, as it turns out, in apocalypses. somehow it doesn’t surprise him. he works out a routine. when he’d first found a hole to burrow himself in post-league he’d spent days just picking up patterns- when, who, from where, how. once he was entirely sure he’d gotten it down to a science he’d risked it back out, mapping the area out incrementally, one rotation at a time. two months and five days in he has it down to an art instead.

he moved regularly for the first month post-league, avoiding anywhere that seemed inhabited by zombies and people alike. can’t trust anyone, and besides it’s way too much of a liability having other people around to get themselves bitten. he can look after himself, but he’s not signing up for charity work. by the second month he’d found his current address, the top floor of a mid-rise apartment complex in meguro city. apartment complexes are risky, but this one’s door locks are still functional, and once he’d cleared out the ground floor and made the rounds to check for stragglers he’d wagered it about as secure as it could get. the stairs are a bitch, but the zombies don’t like them either, preferring to straggle in lobbies, and for another thing the height is convenient. the roof’s close by for a way out, and it gives him a good view of the surroundings.

the apartment itself is nothing special. residential. he picked the cleanest one, which also meant the one half-moved out in a hurry. he pretends like he thinks the owners got out but he spotted a suitcase with their name abandoned in the elevator. the guy was a teacher at the university. the woman was in sales. it’s decent for a tokyo flat, two bedrooms, a bathroom, good kitchen, nice living area. the fridge had been full of expired goods, but the shelves had some cans in them- soup, rice, beans. pots and pans. he’s been working through the floors of the place one room at a time taking inventory, lugging the useful shit back up. nothing beyond the strictly practical- he takes food, medecine, clothes, someone’s watch once, binoculars. he’s not making a home for himself, just stocking up. he sleeps with his bag on his back, the essentials locked and loaded. the gun was an apartment find too.

his biggest problem is transport. he recognised this early on, because so could anyone with half a brain. tokyo’s teeming with public transports overrun by the undead, cars abandoned on the streets, but the actual streets are packed day in and day out. whatever movie said zombies hate the sun was full of shit, because as far as he can tell the only time they actually react to the weather is when it rains. all night and day they’re shuffling in tireless motions around the city, gaining numbers. there’s a rhythm to it, sure- they’re more sluggish at night- but it’s an incessant flow. he can’t drive a car, has found no convenient manual stored nearby, and google went and croaked on him when the electricity did, so there’s no way he can just take advantage of a lull and jump in. by the time he’s figured out how to get any given vehicle to start he’ll be surrounded. even if he could find a way in, there’s no way out- driving through streets packed with zombies is a doomed exercise, especially given that half of the cars in the city are busted or low on fuel.

his current plan involves boats. he’s not sure if zombies can swim yet, but they don’t like the rain so he’s betting no, and even if they do they’d fare no better than a human at climbing a boat from the waters below it. if he can make it to tokyo bay somehow- at least off the coast there’ll be room to manoeuvre. but he needs to figure out the basics of ship-operating first, and also to relocate his supplies nearer to the bay somehow. if he ends up on the open seas he’ll need the food to last him the journey.

so he’s been doing this. rounds, collecting shit. taking inventory. scoping the streets out. he spends the nights planning, the early mornings reading. there’s no power in the building. it’s freezing. six months since his internship, winter rolling in. if he gets to tokyo bay the waters will be frigid, but the sea doesn’t freeze over.

his biggest concern at the moment is hypothermia, if he’s being honest. he’s collected every fucking duvet in the building, it feels like, but there’s only so much he can bury himself under. he’d be warmer if he didn’t insist on bathing in melted snow, but he went so long without washing in autumn that he fucking refuses to waste the opportunity. he smells like some ridiculous apple berry blast bullshit because he’s cycling through shampoos, but sometimes he thinks he’s only sane when he’s brushing his teeth in the mornings so he’s not about to let up on the hygiene.

three and a half months ago he was meant to be back at school. he has no idea what’s happened to his classmates. most of them were home for the summer. he thinks yaoyorozu was abroad. lucky her. kirishima was the last he heard from, all suppressed terror, and even now it makes him feel sick to think about it, because he knows full well the asshole was scared for him. sometimes he thinks about what it would have been like facing this shit as a group, but he never dwells on it. he’s better off alone.

he’s cold. he’s tired. he needs to get to the nearest library, because no one in the building has shit about boats. he doesn’t want to leave the building yet, but he needs a book. can’t go into this shit blind, not without knowing what he’ll need once he gets there. and besides he needs to stay sharp on the streets- get back into the swing of it, literally. one month since he moved in and he’s barely seen a zombie in the rotting flesh. the doors have been holding up, and he’s far up enough that none of the regulars outside can smell him, decide to unionize and break the door down.

he’s had an assortment of weapons, since the start of this. most effective was the gun, also a heavy chair once. his trusty hockey stick had snapped on his way into the building, a month ago, leaving him to fend the last three tenants off with goldfish bowls and doors to the neck. he’s found a sturdy baseball bat since that he’s claimed as new weapon of choice, though never used. he takes this, when he goes. the bat, the backpack that never leaves his back, the longest coat he can find in his collection. not the heaviest, despite the biting cold, because that restrains movement, but the longest, to minimize contact. hat and gloves for the same reason. balaklava just for the cold.

the apartment is empty as he winds his way down, footsteps loud, and it’s dusk- just late enough that the zombies are slower, though not late enough that it really makes a difference. it’s be too dark if it were; he’s trying to save flashlights for real emergencies.

the setagaya library is the only actual library near him, as the maps inform him, but too far to risk. in the address book he finds a local bookshop three blocks away, and it’s there that he heads, already cold to the bone as he grits his teeth and locks the complex door assiduously behind him. there are zombies just across the street beginning to moan in his direction. he ignores them, breaking into a jog.

maybe because their blood doesn’t flow to their brains, maybe because their muscles are deteriorating: zombies aren’t incredibly fast or incredibly intelligent. what they are is resilient, and single-minded. but outrun them and outsmart them he can, and so he does- runs the paths he’s memorized, sticks to corners and shadows and scales ladders and crosses rooftops and just about manages to get to the street in question without even having to swing his bat.

once he gets there, though, he gets swinging. the bookshop is in an unfortunate position, and there’s an entire group parked in front of it. he lets them spot him first, so they break off in his direction, then climbs onto the overturned truck they’ve shifted to and springs back down into the doorframe of the bookshop, kicking the door in before they can register his itinerary. he slams it shut just before a greying hand scratches at it in outrage, heart pounding a steady tattoo, then glances around rapidly. no sign of life, but that means nothing.

there is, then, an unmistakable jingling sound from the very back corner of the room, behind rows and rows of antique-looking books. keys, or metal on metal. movement.

company, katsuki thinks, between anticipation and trepidation. his bat sits comfortably in his hands as he raises it.

jingling, closer, and he moves in on instinct, breathing feeling loud as he brushes past the anthropology section. he can just about see around the corner when a sudden sixth sense makes him whip around, bat swinging down heavily, and just in the nick of time- wood connects with metal, hard, knocking him back a pace as his teeth snap together from the impact, but he’s swinging again in self-defense just as there’s a sharp intake of breath and his brain catches up- red, white, painfully familiar. the bat makes an aborted spasm.

“bakugou,” shouto todoroki says, in disbelieving tones, crowbar lowered but not dropped. katsuki gapes.

“am i fucking hallucinating?”

the crowbar lowers further.

it is him, unmistakably. maybe with someone else he would have hesitated longer, but todoroki's hard not to single out. his red-white hair is tousled, long behind his ears like he's absently tucked it and forgotten about it, and he's grimy, smells sour and dusty, but it's him. katsuki's own hands stay gripped around the bat, their gazes playing some odd symmetrical game as they catalogue each other for the same exact thing- looking for bite-marks. todoroki's less covered than katsuki is, but there's blood on him, old, dried. too old for recent bites, anyways. inconclusive.

"what are you doing in-" todoroki starts, maybe having concluded that there's no way to assess his status with the layers he has on, but then his frown twists. "oh. your internship?"

which answers katsuki's own question, sort of, because now that he thinks of it enji was on that high-profile murder case in the high court. still- still, his brain is stuck on the incongruity of it, shouto todoroki in the apparently living flesh, and it's been two months and five days. he just keeps staring.

"i came for a book," is what leaves his lips, eventually, rough, and his voice sounds hoarse with disuse. it jars him into action, moving past todoroki on auto-pilot, because somehow he can't quite register his presence, doesn't know where to begin. he wasn't factoring this into his day.

it's dark inside, books hard to discern, so he gets his flashlight out, hits it against a shelf so it alights. there's a section on travel near the back. nautical travels of the eastern seas. useless. a map book of the japanese seas- maybe. he mechanically slides it into his bag. his fingers feel rigid. he's still cold. what the fuck is shouto todoroki doing holed up in a bookstore? where is his father? how long has he been here? what is he doing, alive, talking, walking, in the apocalypse, ambling into katsuki's routine with a crowbar in hand?

he can't see or hear him at all. now he's back here he can tell the ringing was rigged up- tiny trap-wires set around the store, what looks like fishing wire with bells attached. smart. of course it is. he's losing his mind. where has the bastard gone? is he even here? it's fucking freezing in the bookstore. where does he sleep? he hadn't looked starving. actually he hadn't looked anything- just blank as usual, barring the surprise. fuck! he's been staring at the same book for a good thirty seconds without registering the title.

beginner's guide to boating. miraculous. he nearly breaks todoroki's kneecaps when he sees his legs appear silently next to him.

"fuck! don't sneak up on me, you asshole!"

"boats," todoroki says. "that's your plan?"

it makes him flare hot with something like rage, because he doesn't fucking want input on it, doesn't want to be told odds, and it has him on his feet, slamming todoroki back into the opposite bookshelf within seconds.

"mind your own damn business!"

todoroki seems mildly startled at best, shifting a little so a book isn't digging into his neck, and for a moment katsuki is distracted by the scalding warmth of him under his arm. he doesn't know when he last came into contact with a living body. it's disorienting. he thinks probably it was the senior partner who fell down the stairs, minutes before the zombies swarmed the lobby, pulse skittering frantically with fear.

he drops todoroki, steps back. two months five days. maybe he's gone a little crazy.

whatever! whatever. he's fully functioning, he has his book, he's leaving. he's going to be off-schedule at this rate, times gone muddy with distraction. even without touching him he feels like there's residue warmth on his palm, making the rest of him shiver by contrast. if the zombies could have just gotten properly active in summer...

he's halfway to the door when he remembers- again- todoroki is actually there, watching him inscrutably from the bookshelf, swaying a little on his feet. despite himself he turns to stare back. he doesn't know what to- this wasn't in the plan, he doesn't know. he's going anyways.

it's because he's staring-cum-glaring at todoroki that he sees his eyes widen, and then he's leaping forwards on instinct as the window in the door shatters, decaying arm bursting through as loud moaning suddenly fills the dead silence.

"shit!"

"it's because there's two of us," todoroki reasons, in a tone like he's annoyed with himself for not realising this, which would make katsuki feel marginally better about his own stupid lack of thought if he wasn't so pissed. he'd counted on the zombies losing interest on his presence once he was out of sight, but the smell of two live humans in close proximity would obviously keep some of them near.

"is there another way out of this place?"

"back entrance, but it leads into a dead-end alley," todoroki retorts, suddenly functioning, eyeing the creaking door as thumping intensifies from the other side. "there's a way to scale onto the drain-pipe above but it wasn't made to take two people's weight."

"shit," katsuki curses, feelingly. "where's the drain-pipe lead?"

"roof. i don't know if either of us could scale it fast enough for the other to follow before they get there."

katsuki looks at him, crouched calmly stacking something or other into a loose duffel bag, rusty crowbar by his feet, then looks back to the groaning door. his gut tightens with a sort of pissed off fatalism.

"how long 'd it take you to get to the roof? five minutes?"

"i could do it in three, maybe less," todoroki estimates. "it's slower with the frost."

three minutes. katsuki hoists the bat higher, takes a step then two back from the door.

"fine. go. i'll follow."

"bakugou-"

"it's the most logical fucking plan of action," katsuki snaps, eyes still on the door, adrenaline spiking. "if you get up there before i get outside i can make it to the drainpipe before anyone nabs me. i can hold them off for three fucking minutes. and you're the one who knows the way up. you go."

"i know," todoroki says, which makes katsuki glance back at him, finds his face set with nothing but fixed determination. "i was going to say to give me your bag. it'll make it easier to climb."

there's something about this that makes katsuki's head briefly thud with something like a pounding headache, lungs gone tight, but he refocuses, blinks away the dizzy spell. the last fucking thing he wants is to give the bag away, but unless the plan goes as hoped he's dead anyways, so there's no point in arguing.

he shrugs his backpack off, slides the gun out, shoves it into his back pocket. todoroki fastens the straps around his shoulders without comment, then turns and runs, not wasting any time. it makes something in him-

the door breaks in.

there's five of them at least, the ones from before. the first one goes down with a direct hit to the head, skull caving in with a crunching sound, but he has to retreat immediately, make them spread out of their pack formation as he zig-zags back through the rows of books. they're slower than humans but not slow, breaking into a fast paced shuffle after him; he turns a sharp corner, doubles back as fast as he can to catch a second one from behind. crack, snap. the one in front lunges back before he can swing again, sending him running back; he jumps onto the seller's counter, dodging an arm, then brings the bat down full-force onto the zombie's neck. three. there's another one nearing the broken door, the other two circling back to the front at the commotion. he jumps over the counter, ducking under an arm, knocks into the nearest bookshelf with all of his weight, sending it sprawling towards the door, books flying and frame landing awkwardly across the doorframe. it doesn't block entry, but it befuddles the would-be incomers.

there's an arm grabbing his shoulder; he dodges a gaping mouth, bat spinning to hit at the rotting jaw, once, twice, bones splintering decisively on the second hit, but the last straggler is on him and the others are crawling in through the door. he runs, down to the back of the store, nearly trips over todoroki's traps himself as he goes, miraculously jumps clean of them as his pursuers stumble. it gives him the seconds to jump up to the back portion of the shop, grab a nearby chair and throw it at the advancing huddle, knocking them back a step, then turn sharply into a row, sprinting down to the back of the room where the emergency exit sign hangs half-broken. it's closed, likely behind todoroki, but he slams through it before any of the zombies near, staggers at the sharp gust of cold air that hits once he's out. the sun is nearly set, casting a red haze over the alley, and there's a pack of six zombies right beneath the glinting drainpipe, still trailing after todoroki's scent, moaning around the corner signalling backup. fuck.

there's a loud scraping from above, then todoroki's head appears over the edge of the roof, something grey and unwieldy in his hands; a satellite dish comes falling down, catching speed as it goes. it hits the pack dead-centre, crushing two of the zombies into pieces on impact, others reeling backwards in confusion, and he doesn't have the time to question his odds four-on-one. he runs in while they're still dazed, beats one into the wall, head splattering, turns and swings into the second as it zeroes in on him, head collapsing inward and drenching him in blood. the other two are too close to hit; he twists, jumps back, curses, eyes the alley entry where others have scented blood. fucking- no, two on one, god, he's not dying two on one, not after the bullshit he's been through. he kicks heavily into the one's chest, just missing the hand trying to nab his ankle, which sends it knocking into the other, and like that they're just aligned enough that he yells and slams the bat through the first one's head, in three rapid blows, hitting the one behind it on the third as bits of skull go flying. it's not enough to take it out; he hits again, manic, and it gets him on the second go. then he's scrambling to the drain pipe, mindful of the others closing in, shoves his bat down the back of his shirt and under his waistband before he throws himself at the drainpipe.

"brace against the wall," todoroki calls, almost in the moment he does so, hands slip-sliding on the damp pipe as his boots hit concrete; there are arms nearing, outstretched, but he bunches his stomach and drags himself up, feet first then arms, side of his arm scraping heavily against the wall as he moves almost horizontally upwards, fingers clenched around metal. the fucking gloves are no help; he pauses, braced and shaking with tension, to rip his gloves off with his teeth, one hand then the next, dropping to the floor below as his bare palms hit the freezing metal.

he's so cold it hurts, but he's halfway up the wall. methodically he moves. one foot. other foot. one hand. other hand. stomach muscles, straining, arms pulling. up a fraction. then another. then another.

"wait," todoroki says, closer than he feels, and he glances up for the first time, finds him an arm and a half's length away. "you'll slide at the top."

"then what the fuck do you suggest i do?" katsuki bites, half a yell, too strained to scream. todoroki leans, heavy, arms outstretched.

"do one more. then take my hand."

katsuki wishes he could spit on him. todoroki's expression has gone tight like he knows what he's thinking, like he's not sure katsuki won't let himself fall all the way down rather than put himself into the uncalloused hands of shouto todoroki.

the pipe creaks. katsuki moves up, ignores the way his blood boils, eyes the outstretched hands. he can hear todoroki breathing, hot against the cold air.

"drop me and i'll turn you."

he braces. one hand leaves the pipe, and for a godawful moment he's grasping at nothing. their hands connect, rearrange themselves; todoroki has a death-like grip on his wrist. his foot slides. the second hand is thrown rather than extended, and todoroki's eyes flash alarmingly as their fingers brush and miss, but he doesn't fall, hangs there by an arm for a heartbeat, jolt like he's dislocated his shoulder before his boot catches something and he shoves upwards, todoroki grabbing hold of his hand and yanking full-body at him.

katsuki falls over the top of the roof in disjointed movements, the both of them half-hitting each other as momentum carries them down, lands with an elbow in todoroki's stomach and a hit of tile to the jaw.

his head spins; he shoves up immediately, falls back down when his arms protest, adrenaline pounding hysterically. his limbs are shaking with belated exertion. todoroki is still holding his wrists, punishingly tight, his breaths heavy nearby. his body is still hot beneath him.

he scrabbles backwards, onto his knees, todoroki dropping his hands and dragging himself up to his elbows. for a moment they stare at each other, panting loudly.

he wants to yell at him but the words don't come. two months, five days. it's not even todoroki's fault, really. he was living there unperturbed. there's a flush of exertion over his cheeks now, and maybe he's just gone crazy what with the constant thinking about unbeating hearts but he feels a little obsessively interested in the visible flow of blood beneath his skin, wants him pink all over if that'll prove him living a minute longer.

he shakes himself, exhales in a burst.

"are you all right?" todoroki asks, and up close katsuki realises his voice is hoarser too. in the shop he'd been too dumbstruck to register it, but it's there beneath his normal cadence, a scratchy undertone. he hasn't spoken in a while either. something about it-

all right, he'd asked. unbitten, he means. katsuki shakes his head.

"we need to get going."

he hadn't meant the 'we', but he thinks at some point when todoroki's fingers dug into his arm hard enough to pierce flesh the message had gotten under his skin too. they're not fucking splitting up now. of course they're not. this isn't model un or a baseball match; it doesn't matter that the guy drives him insane. and this is todoroki, too- excruciatingly hyper-competent at every challenge life throws at him. if there's anyone less likely to rely on katsuki for the next however-long until one of them is forced to shoot the other, he hasn't met them.

"where?"

"my place. 's not far. how d'you get down from here?"

"the next building over has a fire-escape."

"fine. let's go then."

todoroki hands him back his backpack. he hits his bat against the wall to shake some bits of bone and flesh off, eyes unfocused on the task. he thinks desensitisation is the word. it's maybe the third or fourth time he's fought them off without registering anything about them once. usually he gets stuck on some detail or other, schoolgirl shirt or smile wrinkles. freckles. proof of life. there's that movie he watched once with kirishima and the rest of them, some kind of sci-fic thing, and at the end when the monsters come the dad shoots his whole family dead to spare them. turns out it's the military instead, come to rescue them. kirishima had cried.

questions pile up in his throat. he forces them down.

they jump from the rooftop to the next with relative ease, the gap narrow, his foot just catching on the edge before he rights himself. the fire escape is solid where the drain pipe wasn't. he wonders how in the fuck todoroki ended up here, in some old bookstore.

he's gotten good at scaling shit. he thinks in another life he'd have made a top-grade gymnast, or a superhero. when he'd broken out of the league's hold he'd made a spiderman worthy leap onto a clothes-line.

they make it back to the apartment as the sun vanishes, late, and because they're late his perfect scheduling is off, leaves them facing a pack of easily a dozen zombies swarming around the doors. there's another way in through the side, but it requires forcing a door open that he doesn't have keys for, and that means an entry-risk.

"i'll clear a way to the door," he says, hoisting his bat higher. "you keep them off my back."

todoroki follows his gaze, nods.

they advance in the dark, close together, and it's bizarre having someone breathing down his neck after so long, makes him on edge, expecting a bite that never comes. when the first zombie starts turning their way he breaks into a run, brings the bat down fast and heavy so it connects with a sick thud, flashlight clicking to life where he holds it between his teeth. it blinds one zombie long enough that he gets it too, and then it's chaos, flashlight swinging drunkenly as he batters this way and that, fighting off the clawing arms with irate kicks and loud swearing. if there's one thing he fucking loathes about the apocalypse it's how touchy-feely everyone is, all endlessly grasping hands and drooling maws straining for a piece of him. it makes his skin crawl, which makes him see red, which makes him go through fights like this, all furious movement, too keyed up to feel afraid. he never goes into a fight expecting to lose.

behind him, around him, wet crunching and moans track todoroki closing the pack; in off-beat synchronisation they move their way through the group, dropping bodies as they go. he's by the door before he knows it, light catching the heavy glass, switches the bat to one hand as he drags out the keys. the first time he'd gotten in the door had been open; his luckiest find since was the functioning key, sealing him out of harm's way. he's efficient with it, no fumbling, has it in and open in the time todoroki exhales sort of shortly as their backs connect. bakugou yanks the key out in the same movement he grabs blindly at todoroki's collar with his bat-holding hand, hooking a finger to swing him through the door and diving after him to slam the door shut on a wrist, bone snapping and the hand falling limply to the floor as they put their weight on the door for as long as it takes him to lock it again.

todoroki's crowbar is sopping red, guts in his hair; he casts a look around, doesn't even ask if katsuki thinks the door will hold, if katsuki has thought of their scent luring zombies in. most people would have.

he has, obviously. thought of it. that's why he lives on the top floor. the scent doesn't linger. doesn't matter if there's two of them up there. the door holds for as long as the stragglers press up against it, but as soon as they're out of sight the zombies will drift again.

they make their way up the stairs. he's warmer now, purely from the exercise. heat rises. another reason he lives at the top. doesn't feel like it when he's freezing his ass off at night, but he knows his science.

they make it to the top floor in silence, and he pushes his door open (unlocked, this one, because by the point anyone reaches him up here he'll be long gone), goes for the camping lamp on the floor, trudges along with it in hand. remembers his houseguest.

"kitchen's there. there's a bathroom. two rooms. living room. no power or running water but i have some water in the bathtub if you want to wash."

"it's nice," todoroki says, and the worst thing is he sounds like he means it, almost politely. it makes katsuki stop dead to look at him, struck again by how unreal it all feels, but it almost feels reassuringly normal, staring at todoroki in disbelief. in the bad lighting he looks otherworldly, even despite the filth and zombie gunk he's covered in, all half-lit and angelic like something out of a hazy dream.

"i can't fucking believe it's actually you, half 'n half."

it escapes him unthinkingly, but it's true, and besides that it has the unforeseen consequence of making todoroki's composure fracture, shoulders rising and falling on a mute laugh, exhausted wryness in the tilt of his head. for a split second his gaze is dizzyingly and uncharacteristically frank, almost intimate.

"the feeling is mutual."

if the moment stretches he might do something wholly deranged; he rolls his aching shoulder, gestures to the bathroom.

"you go first. you reek."

todoroki says his thanks to his back as he retreats.

he returns to routine. strips, despite how fucking cold he is, wraps his shoulder tight enough that it hurts, rubs alcohol onto the more worrying cuts and scrapes. drags some bedding to the second room, then drags himself to the kitchen, shivering, mentally redoing his maths, then pulling out his notebook to jot down the edited stock. pauses, hesitates. in the margin under the date he writes: found half 'n half. it's not a diary, but he feels like he should make note.

todoroki appears silently in the doorframe, wrapped in a towel and scrubbed red, and there's something reassuring about how clean he looks, balanced out by how disturbing it is to see him so casually bare. he's barely glanced up at him that he drops the towel.

"the fuck-"

todoroki just turns in a neat 360, then wraps himself back up. katsuki snaps his jaw shut, ears burning but head clear. no bites. right. the previous times- whatever. reluctantly he stands and turns. when todoroki eyes his boxers he glares.

"you don't think you would have noticed if i got bitten on the dick today?"

he's not entirely sure todoroki won't fight him on it, but he concedes after a moment's assessing stare, shifts from foot to foot.

"you can have some of my shit to wear," katsuki says, pointing to the wardrobe he's requisitioned. "some of it's too big. should fit."

todoroki just nods, follows suit.

he wonders, as he scrubs himself down with a bucketful of water, teeth chattering and bath-tub still half full, if todoroki was always so goddamn quiet or if he's traumatised or some shit. the guy was always the annoying silent type, but he doesn't remember him this monosyllabic. habit, probably. what does he know.

he dresses, layers up, shoves his dirty clothes with todoroki's in the basket. when it fills he'll dunk the whole lot into a tub of his used water, but until there's that many dirty clothes he leaves them out.

todoroki is sat on the couch wrapped in blankets and wearing someone's dad's heavy knitwear, illuminated by (of all things) a gas lamp that katsuki had found but never managed to light. so the asshole has matches.

"you hungry?" katsuki asks, really only to make him speak. todoroki nods, counter-productively, but he's talking next.

"don't waste your food on me."

"shut up, asshole," katsuki mutters, on instinct, fatigue setting into him. jesus. the martyrs he's surrounded with. "you can make the next grocery run."

todoroki only looks at him longly, but he follows him into the kitchen, eats the cold soup without complaint. he likes cold food, katsuki thinks, then stops at the thought. he has no idea how he knows it. it feels like a memory from a different life. he likes cold food. like that matters.

it's not very late, though it's pitch black out. he goes to bed early these days to make the most of the sunlight. he's not sure what to do with todoroki, though rationally that's not his concern.

he can't find it in himself to ask the obvious questions. it's partly because he doesn't want to hear the answers and partly because he doesn't want to have to give his own. it's not like they were fucking bosom buddies before this all went down- he's past hating the guy, despite how unbearable he finds him, would call them something adjacent to friends under duress, but it's not like they make a point of hanging out outside of class. and todoroki's a terrible conversationalist, always.

even so. two months, five days. he wants to talk, if only for the pleasure of getting to call him a superior bastard, if only to know that he's still the same confounding weirdo whose face he wears. it's not even the words, really- he wants to hear a pulse beat near him, to catch alert eyes on his, to watch his chest rise and fall. alive.

he can't believe the asshole stripped naked like that. pale flesh all over, but not that diseased grey tint, just regular winter cold, like the inside of a peach. bruises and scratches littering his limbs. nasty half-healed scar like someone had tried to gut him with a knife.

his lips are peeling when he licks them. he found vaseline in someone's drawer but he uses it sparingly. whenever he goes outside his lips crack to the point of blood. against the glow of the stove he can see only half of his new flatmate where he sits surveying his newly clean crowbar.

"what's in the duffel?"

he'd have bristled more at the invasion, pragmatic though it is, but todoroki only shifts obligingly to raise it to his lap.

"medical kit- bandages, aspirin, tweezers, needle and thread. three water bottles. instant noodles. biscuits. matchbox. a city map. a change of shoes. a space blanket. my wallet. wire. rope. an alarm clock. a mechanic's manual." he pauses, feels around, drags out a glass bottle. "this."

it's vodka, of all the things. katsuki half wants to laugh.

"you drink now?"

"kept me warm," todoroki shrugs. which is, maybe, all there is to it. maybe not.

"i'll run you through inventory in the morning," katsuki says, if reluctantly. best todoroki knows what they have on hand, despite how little he feels like letting him into his notebook. it's not like he's deku, writing down his little feelings all over it, but it feels revealing anyways, for todoroki to know what he's been tracking.

there's nothing else for them to talk about without heading into dangerous territory. todoroki packs his things back into the bag, careful, and katsuki is sick of his own weird emotional breakdown, doesn't know where this sudden needy cloying bullshit is even coming from.

two months five days, his brain says, chipper, and then offers to rewind the days preceding that. he hisses through his teeth before he remembers he has company.

"i'm going to bed. 's fuck all to do without wasting light. stay high up if you want to go exploring."

todoroki has gone back to muteness, because he only nods as katsuki glowers at nothing in particular and makes his way back to his room, unhappy at the sight of his diminished bedding. it's not like he's actually able to use the whole apartment's bedding anyways- too unwieldy, too heavy, whatever- but the three duvets and two quilts had been working well enough to insulate him against the chill, and with two sacrificed he's resigned to a night of tossing and turning.

fuck his life. he thinks maybe the reason he's been having these fits of weirdness across the days is just fatigue. between the nightmares and the cold and the actual zombie break-ins over the past six months he doesn't think he's managed a single night's good sleep beyond the times he's blacked out. he feels untethered, at times both more and less emotional than he's used to being.

no surprise that having a real life human being around- and one that he knows at that- is making him almost ill with conflicting urges. part of him wants to lock todoroki out in a cold sweat and never lay eyes on him again. part of him wants to cut him open and grab at his beating heart just to confirm he's not alone. the rest of him lies there wondering what the fuck is wrong with his brain.

he lies there for maybe an hour trying to get to sleep, but his mind has kicked into overdrive in the way that it does every goddamn night nowadays, replaying scenes he didn't even notice in the moment. one of the zombies by the bookstore had barely reached his shoulder. when he'd washed his bat there had been bits of an eye clinging to the base.

he's too busy being cold and annoyed and possibly hysterical to notice the soft footfall until it's close, jerking up on instinct to brandish his bat, but he can tell by the moonlight filtering in slivers through his blinds that it's todoroki, if the lack of shuffling hadn't given it away.

"what the hell is wrong with you?"

"i didn't mean to startle you," todoroki says. monotone, but in an off way, almost dreamy, like he's asleep. it makes katsuki's skin prickle with foreboding; he stares at the little he can see of his face, alert now.

"then what do you want?"

"you sound cold," todoroki says. still in the doorframe, unmoving. he wishes there was more light.

"it's the middle of winter, jackass, of course i'm cold. can you fuck off?"

"my father is dead," todoroki says, completely unprompted, voice not changing in timbre in the slightest, and it makes katsuki's heart jump before he sits fully upright, trying harder to make his face out.

enji todoroki, gone. he guesses he'd known that on some level, for todoroki to be roaming around like a ghost, but it doesn't compute. jesus. maybe todoroki's actually fucking lost it since. he imagines two months and five days tracking back to losing his father, feels that gut-punch of paralysis in his stomach.

he's so caught on processing it that he doesn't even register todoroki is climbing into the bed before he's halfway under the sheets.

"what the fuck are you doing?" his voice half-breaks on it, rising in sheer disbelief as he jerks violently back, because seriously- there's insane and there's insane, and he's starting to suspect todoroki is so out of it he'd snap his neck in his sleep.

todoroki has the audacity to shush him, distracted, and it takes katsuki actually grabbing him hard by the shoulder, braced to hit at the slightest flicker of intent, to stop him in his tracks.

"hey, asshole, i'm talking to you! are you out of your goddamn mind?"

where he's stopped now todoroki's one eye catches the moonlight, big and dark and eerie. he blinks slowly like he's coming out of a trance.

"oh, i-" he pauses. his pulse is sluggish under katsuki's hands, skin fire-hot. feverish, maybe. shit. feverish, very possibly. he'd had no layers in that shitty bookshop. "sorry."

he says it like he's not sure he means it. katsuki doesn't let up with his grip.

"how long you been sick, icyhot?"

"sick," todoroki repeats, processing it. his gaze sharpens. "days. i think maybe- what day is it?"

"wednesday. thirteenth."

"six days, then," todoroki says, quiet. their gazes catch, more consciously now. "i'm fine. the adrenaline helped."

"sit still," katsuki warns, and then pulls up quickly, shrugs his backpack off, digs out the medical kit. he has a decent stock of medicine in the apartment, enough that he only hesitates a beat before pulling out the advil bottle, unscrewing the cap to fill it. he knows the dosage by heart. "drink."

he nearly drops the whole bottle when todoroki just obediently sticks his mouth to the rim of the cap instead of taking it himself, hot breath fanning over his fingers as he drinks. it makes his own pulse go skittering with discomfort when he fills it a second time, brandishes it back. the cap is sticky and wet when he screws it back on; todoroki is still half-sitting where he told him to when he's done his bag up and slid it back onto his back.

"why'd you tell me about your dad just then?" katsuki asks, despite himself, if only to fill the silence.

"did i?" todoroki asks, on an exhale, visible eye swivelling to him. "i don't know. i was thinking about the cold, i think. he wasn't cold in the end."

he resists the urge to check his temperature. probably it got worse once he tried to go to sleep, all the residue adrenaline gone. it can't have been peaking all day, or they'd have never made it out in the first place. and it's not from a bite. just a fever. he's medicated. he'll sleep it off.

"i'm not crazy," todoroki informs him, suddenly cool, not so hazy. "just sick. i could hear you tossing and turning. that's why i came."

"why're you in my bed?" katsuki shoots back, on the edge of combative, not really. maybe he's a little relieved. he's a lot pissed off, even though he knows todoroki probably genuinely didn't realise what a state he was in the last week, might have actually been trying to make sense of his fluctuating mood himself. no shit he'd been so weird when they first ran into each other.

"i'm not sure," todoroki admits. "it seemed important at the time."

this makes him want to laugh, though he doesn't. the cracked-open raw part of him that still smarts loudly whenever he thinks of jeanist thinks he missed him somehow.

"glad we solved that mystery. get out now."

todoroki makes to move, stops when they're facing each other, blue eye white-pale on his. "actually i remember now, i think."

"i swear to god, half 'n half..."

"you're cold," todoroki repeats, factual, then back to floaty. "and i couldn't hear..."

he doesn't expect him to do what he does, which is why he doesn't stop him when he puts a too-hot palm directly over his heart, doesn't even pull back when he pushes, knocking him onto the bed.

"todoroki-"

"it's fine," todoroki says, scratchy, sweat-warm. he slides onto his own side in a heavy, graceless motion. face to face, half an arm between them, palm stuck to his chest. "it's fine."

it's the scratchiness that wins him over, or maybe the fever flush of him. todoroki may be fucked in the head but he's not, which is why he knows full well he's being insane by not shoving him out. it's just that on some extremely uncomfortable and deranged level he gets it, because he's been tracking his pulse like a shark since they first ran into each other. there's something less insane beneath it too, pragmatic acknowledgment that it is actually a great deal warmer when there's body heat to share, but he knows full well he'd have toughed it out, six months ago, sent him back to bed and spent the night half-awake in spiteful resignation.

it's six months later, though, and somewhere along the line he's been rewired wrong. he thinks it's not unlikely that he's just this desperate for a full night's sleep.

it doesn't really matter why, though. he lets him stay. in the morning if todoroki is back to himself he'll see right through whatever he says, and on balance he doesn't fucking care.

he's so fucking tired. two months and five days, six months and three. the last time someone touched him for more than a second without trying to kill him it was a crying intern, this bespectacled guy whose name he'd never bothered to learn choking on his own blood as he clutched katsuki's wrist for comfort. before that he thinks it was his mother, exchanging their usual routine of brusque ruffling before he got on the train. he hasn't cried since the start of this, but he feels like crying now, hot throbbing behind his eyes. he sucks in a breath, forces it down. time and place. he's said it like a mantra since the start, like there's ever going to be one.

todoroki is fast asleep, but his hand's still there. his fingers have curled into the wool.

two months and five days, he thinks again, remembering other hands, clutching his face, pinning his arms. that's changed now, he realises. still marks the date, but not the last time he's spoken to someone.

ten minutes, thirty seconds. he reaches to pull the covers higher over todoroki's shoulders, feels his stomach constrict when his hand brushes medicine-sticky lips in passing.

maybe todoroki can sail. that's a rich kid thing to do. he'll have to ask in the morning.

he falls asleep within fifteen minutes, forty seconds of todoroki, and doesn't wake until the sun rises.

BTS reaction to telling you to disappear when you have depression but they don't know (Jungkook)

Hello!

This is an answer to a previews request. Sorry for the delay and thank you for your patience. Feedback is Always welcome.

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: angst

Warning: mention of depression

You didn’t know how to act. You were never good in those situations. Jungkook was back from practice late and with a bad temper. 

The moment he walked up the door, he seemed to drag behind him a dark cloud that seemed to pull at his facial expression and his posture. Not even looking you in the eyes, he passes by the living room towards the bedroom muttering a faint "I'm home" and you could've missed the way he slightely limped on his left foot if you didn't make a double take on how he threw his bag on the couch. You were supposed to have a movie night and you prepared popcorn and all the snacks he likes, but as silence extendes from the bedroom way after he has changed into comfy clothes, you walk up to him worried.

"Aren't you gonna come to the living room? It's movie night. You forgot?" You adress a laying body ontop the bed, his forearms hiding his eyes. "Not today baby. I'm just going to go to sleep." Surprised by his tone of voice and his avoidance of any eye contact, you sit at the edge of the bed, prying his arm from his face. "Are you okay? You never miss movie night." "I'm just tired from practice and filming today." Seeing as neither does he elaborate nor move you decide to leave him be. You know about those exhausting days where you only look up to laying in bed and let sleep envelope you in its warm arms. "Okay love. I'll let you rest. You are welcome to join me in the living room anytime." Stretching to kiss his forheard, the knee that is supporting your weight on the matress nudges his left ankle which makes him jump in a small flinch. Now that is worrying you. " What is... did you..." you ask reaching for his calf and ankle and he unconsciously moves it away from you, which causes him to feel more pain and let out a small cry. "It's nothing, it's just a bit sore from prac..." "Omg, it's bloated. What do you mean it's just a bit sore? Your ankle is twice the normal size." You stop him, inspecting his ankle while taking off his sock. "I told you it's nothing." "What do you mean nothing? Did you get it checked? How were you even able to walk on it?" "Will you just let it be. I told you by tomorrow it will be okay." "You mean you kept this from your hyungs and managers? Are you insane?" "Listen, I can't afford being injured right now, I can't let them down. It will be okay in just a bit." "You can't afford... I swear you're crazy. How is keeping such an injury a secret doing anyone a favor? If the situation gets even more complicated not performing won't be even an option, it will be an obligation." "Why are you being like this? I told you I got this." "But you'll..." "Why won't you just leave me alone? It's not like it has anything to do with you. You don't understand." "Don't say this. I..." "Can't you just disappear? I told you to leave." Now sitting up, Jungkook yanks your arm from him and lays to the side, his back to you. Seeing how agitated he is, you silently exit the room and sit on the sofa among the soft blankets. Pressing play on the first movie on the recommendations, you lay back trying to calm down. The snacks forgotten on the table in front of you and movie playing as white noise in your ears, your eyes are out of focus and your mind is clouded. You try to reason with yourself that it's nothing to overthink. He'll calm down and come to his senses. ‘You don't understand’. Nobody would want to harm himself like so. ‘Can't you just desapear?’ He didn't mean that for sure.  You spend that night in a battle with your own self, or rather that voice inside that doesn't want to shut up. It makes senses from time to time, and other times paints a dark image on your time with Jungkook.

By the morning, all the thinking took its toll on both your body and soul. Feeling heavy, you don't find the strenghth to get up from the sofa. Jungkook seems to have left while you dozed off. Drowning as the day goes into your mind, this time not thinking about anything, just a huge emptiness, you ignore the multiple phone calls you hear coming from your phone left on the kitchen counter, you don't feel hungry at lunch time, you only stand later in the evening to use the bathroom. With weak legs you barely stand, hand supporting you on the kitchen counter. As if a clear ray lights in your mind, you become aware of what is happenening. The old darkness is trying to take you in again. After years of a rough battle against it, you were doing fine, occasionaly recognising the first signs of a depressive episode and dealing with it the way your doctor taught you to do, but you didn't this time. Maybe you got overwhelmed by the personal weight of the situation, or maybe you weren't doing that well after all. A surprising surge of energy and courage takes over your body, looking around for your medecine between your personal belongings. When you finally find it, its empty. Not wasting time, as you know this strenghth you feel defying your own mind won't last for long if you don't do anything, you get dressed up and leave for the drugstore to get your medecine.

Jungkook comes back home with the help of Taehyung and Hosoek. He was embarassed and sorry for having them deal with this. The moment he steped foot in the company, he met Jimin whose eyes caught up on the weird way he walked and the grimace on his face everytime he took a step. Things escalated quickly leading him to have his injury looked at by a doctor and being dismissed from his performing duties until his ankle gets better. Now laying on the couch, Jungkook looks at his hyungs in the kitchen setting his soup for him to eat. He was surprised to see your phone on the counter knowing you're still supposed to be at work. 'Maybe she slept in this morning and left in a rush forgeting it' he thought to himself, and a slight feeling of guilt buit in his chest knowing he could have woken you up when he left in the morning, but after last night's fight he wasn't able to face you. He was really stupid and blinded by his pride. "Is this what you took for the pain?" Hosoek asks him lifting a box of what seemed like medecine that was on the counter. "No, I didn't take anything." He says extending his hand to grab the box from his hyung, not familiar with the box covered with red warnings on the packaging. He wasn't aware you took any medecine. Bothered by the red warnings and suddenly taking in the state in whitch the house is. Exactly the same as he left this morning. Your work bag still laying on the comode in the entrance, the dishelved but still warm blanket on the sofa, the popcorm bowl that seems to not have been touched. His eyes settle on the box of medecine in his hand and your deserted phone. A quick search on the net tells him enough about what the medecine is for to put him in a panic. And the fact that the box is comptely empty doesn't help.

You open the door to a chaotic scene of Hosoek and Taehyung holding back a limping and crying Jungkook from leaving the house. Your appearance puts everyone to silence and you are taken aback by the weight of Jungkook jumping to hug you. 

" Thank God, you are alive. Baby I'm so sorry." His words are highlighted by the tightness of his hug. Hosoek and Taehyung left behind him relieved but also confused, decide to leave you two to talk it out. "There's soup on the stove and his medecine is on the table." You thank the guys as they leave and you help Jungkook back to the couch. "How's your ankle?" you ask him but his eyes are fixed on your face, worry still present. "I thought I lost you. I'm so sorry for what i said." Giving him a smile you reassure him and spend the night talking about your past and worries, and he's all listening ears, tearing up from time to time. At the end of it, he realises how stronge you are, and how he is lucky to have you.

AG fanfiction: Technical replacement

This fanfiction was made to try to link together the technical boy of the novel and Technical Boy from the television series (taking inspiration from the graphic novel and the deleted scenes shot for season 2, the scenes of what is theorized to be “Game Boy”  - non-official name). Hope you’ll enjoy!

The technical boy popped a handful of chips in his mouth, flushed them down with an energy drink, burped and returned to his game. He didn’t need to eat or drink, of course, but it would have been stupid not to. The technical boy wasn’t the kind to deny himself anything. He was powerful, he was rich, he was young and new. He could have anything he wanted. And the extra-rush of sugar certainly helped him focus. It wasn’t just a game he was playing, it was THE game. The game played simultaneously on all the computers and televisions throughout the United-States. A complex and ever-changing game, with an almost infinite number of levels and too many combos and moves for anyone to remember. Anyone except him. He was very good at remembering things. 

For a moment his vision went blurry and he had to pause the game. He chewed on a few gummies, hoping it would clear his head. He didn’t know why, but recently he felt... somehow tired. When concentrating too much, or thinking too long about something, he would feel... out of breath. Hot. Sluggish. He hated that. 

He took off his hoodie to evacuate the extra heat ; he couldn’t even zip it anyway. He had put on too much weight. A few years ago, he would have been called “overweight” or “fat”. Now, if anyone had seen him, qualificatives such as “obese” or “enormous” would have been more fitting. He didn’t mind it much: after all, he did not truly had human organs, it was not blood that was pumped through his veins - nor did he mind the blooming of his youtfhul acne, turning his face into a true keyboard. He was just annoyed by how heavy he felt. Filled with so much stuff... food and wires, plastic and soda, disks and arrogance... He barely had space in there. He was forced to expand, if he did not want to explode. 

He abandonned his stretchpants and XXXL polo to put on a purple dressing gown and black slippers. The walls of the room were purple too, and slowly turned into shades of blue and cyan. The technical boy licked his lips, thinking he needed to smoke something, but ultimately decided to continue the game. Just one or two more levels. He took a joystick out of the piles of NES, Ataris and Playstations rising beside his chair. RESUME PLAYING. 

The virtual landscapes melted in a confusion of phosphor dots. A few distorted shapes passed through the screen, and suddenly the obese kid found himself looking at an episode of the Golden Girls.

“Hi! It’s me! Media! How are you doing?”

“I was doing fine until you arrived.” he bitterly noted. “What are you doing here?”

“What does it looks like? That I’m here to pick up daisies?” Dorothy answered. “I came to see you of course! I came to tell you goodbye!”

“Goodbye?”

“Oh, honey, I am so sorry about your retirement!” Blanche added. 

The technical boy processed the information.The walls, now green, turned to yellow.

“What kind of fucking virus has bugged your glitter-brain? I’m not retiring anywhere!”

There was a laugh track. Dorothy smiled:

“You are, honey. Your show has been cancelled. Word around is that your replacement is already coming. Many felt it. Straigth from the land of silicon. But don’t feel bad. Think of it as an extensive makeover.”

“This is illogical! This is fucking...” He rose up from the chair, glitching with anger. “I can’t be replaced! I’m not some sort of old, rusty railroad! I’m in every home! So many of them are throwing their life over me! I am the future! I am... fucking binary!”

There was a zoom on Sophia.

“Picture it. America. Beginning of the 21st century. A puffed-up frog thinks himself the biggest thing because he offers people sex, food and exercise without them having to actually move their lazy bums out of their couches. But as time goes by, the same people realize that he is just as slow and bulky as them, lagging and dragging behind, plus quite ugly to look at. Their words, not mine. They realize that they can do better. And bam! A new suitor! Someone thinner, faster, digital, intelligent - again, their words, not mine.”

The technical boy clunched his fists and felt something in his eyes. It couldn’t possibly be tears. The room was now a dull red. There was a smell of burning wires - but it didn’t come from any of the boy’s cigarets. 

Rose smiled.

“You know, back in St. Olaf, we had a lot of different technical boys. So many little techies... There was one for when the peak of technology was washing dishes and cleaning up the dust. There was one for when hearing voices out of a phone was a miracle. There was even one when people spoke through little dots and lines passed by wires across the continent. And sometimes, during the Herring Festival, we would put them together in this sort of...”

“Rose.” Dorothy sighed.

“What I mean to say is... You’re not special. You’re a basic bitch. And soon...” Rose’s smile widened. “You won’t be anything at all. That’s what happens when you’re not careful and up-to-date.”

“Not everyone can stay as good-looking and relevant as me.” Blanche added while checking her hair. 

The technical boy left his chair and violently stomped towards the door, only to realize there wasn’t a door anymore. Just darkness. The dull red was going black.

“All we wanted to say was... Thank you for being a friend.”

The screen shut down. Not even credits. The technical boy tried to pierce the shadows, but couldn’t see his consoles or his chair. Everything was pitch black, nothing was working. He was all alone.

He tried to scream, but no sound would come out of his mouth. He felt his body slowly go stiff. He couldn’t feel anything. 

The black became something even darker - beyond any color humans were able to perceive. An infra-black.

He tried to remember what was the number of states in the USA, in which hotel he had last checked in, what was the latest model of computer they had released, which President abolished slavery, what medecine you should take for the flu. It was a last, desperate attempt to cling onto something, anything, as he drifted away. 

But he remembered nothing. In his head was just an empty, black void.

Darkness. In and out. 

Nothing. Everywhere.

...

 ...

And somewhere, far away, at funerals, an artificial musician completed Bach’s unfinished symphony. 

Friday, March 12, 2021

Rich, developing nations wrangle over COVID vaccine patents (Reuters) Richer members of the World Trade Organization (WTO) blocked a push by over 80 developing countries on Wednesday to waive patent rights in an effort to boost production of COVID-19 vaccines for poor nations. South Africa and India renewed their bid to waive rules of the WTO’s Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property (TRIPS) agreement, a move that could allow generic or other manufacturers to make more vaccines. South Africa argued the current TRIPS system does not work, pointing to the failure to secure life-saving medicines during the HIV/AIDS pandemic that had cost at least 11 million African lives. Medecins Sans Frontieres in October put together a letter signed by over 375 civil society organisations supporting the waiver. The South Africa and India proposal was backed by dozens of largely developing countries at the WTO, but opposed by Western countries, including Britain, Switzerland, EU nations and the United States, which have large domestic pharmaceutical industries.

US reports surge of kids at SW border, a challenge for Biden (AP) The number of migrant children and families seeking to cross the U.S. southwest border has surged to levels not seen since before the pandemic, a challenge for President Joe Biden. Statistics released Wednesday by U.S. Customs and Border Protection showed the number of children and families increased by more than 100% between January and February. Kids crossing by themselves rose 60% to more than 9,400, forcing the government to look for new places to hold them temporarily. The surge has been seized on by Republicans and former President Donald Trump as a line of attack on Biden, though his administration is turning back nearly all single adults, who make up the majority of border-crossers, under a public health order imposed at the start of the coronavirus pandemic. The Biden administration is temporarily holding children and families, mostly from Central America, for several days. They are generally then allowed to enter the U.S. while authorities evaluate their claims to asylum or see if they have any other legal right to stay in the country. It is a challenge for an administration that has been working to restore an asylum system largely dismantled under Trump and likely to face increasing pressure. Factors driving the increase include widespread hunger in Central America due to recent hurricanes, the economic upheaval of the pandemic and more fundamental social problems dating back years.

Brazil hospitals buckle (AP) Brazil’s hospitals are faltering as a highly contagious coronavirus variant tears through the country, the president insists on unproven treatments and the only attempt to create a national plan to contain COVID-19 has just fallen short. Piaui state’s Gov. Wellington Dias told The Associated Press that, unless pressure on hospitals is eased, growing numbers of patients will have to endure the disease without a hospital bed or any hope of treatment in an intensive care unit. “We have reached the limit across Brazil; rare are the exceptions,” Dias, who leads the governors’ forum, said. “The chance of dying without assistance is real.” Those deaths have already started. In Brazil’s wealthiest state, Sao Paulo, at least 30 patients died this month while waiting for ICU beds, according to a tally published Wednesday by the news site G1. In southern Santa Catarina state, 419 people are waiting for transfer to ICU beds. In neighboring Rio Grande do Sul, ICU capacity is at 106%.

Athens tackles heat and pollution with pocket-sized parks (Reuters) Tucked between rows of apartment blocks on an Athens street, a strip of green with a few trees, some plants and a bench offers a breathing space in the surrounding crush of concrete. The Greek capital has started creating “pocket parks”, transforming small plots once ridden with garbage and weeds, in a bid to tackle its chronic pollution. “It’s about creating green spaces, lowering the temperatures, giving quality of life and creating new reference points inside the city,” Athens Mayor Kostas Bakoyannis said. “It lets us breathe a bit, because the way we are here ... we are suffocating,” said 65-year-old Dimitra from the densely populated neighbourhood of Kypseli.

Myanmar’s searing smartphone images flood a watching world (AP) The images ricochet across the planet, as so many do in this dizzying era of film it, upload it, tell it to the world: scenes from a protest-turned-government crackdown, captured at ground level by smartphone users on the streets of Myanmar. Images shot across barricades and furtively through windows. From behind bushes and through smudged car windshields. Horizontal video. Vertical video. Video captured by people running toward chaos and away from it. People shouting. People helping. People demanding. People dying. It is a dynamic completely unlike the uprising that spread through the Southeast Asian nation in the pre-internet, pre-smartphone summer of 1988. Then, when student-led demonstrations were violently put down by the government, cementing Myanmar’s global notoriety as an isolated, repressive state, it took months, even years, for the outside world to understand the full story of what had happened. This time around, the imagery is plentiful and unsettling. Filmed by participants on the ground and uploaded, sometimes immediately, the protests and crackdowns are reaching millions of handheld devices around the planet, also almost immediately. It’s a vivid example of a technological truism in an age when capturing images has become utterly democratized: If you can glimpse it up close, you’re more likely to pay attention.

Most Americans support tough stance toward China on human rights, economic issues (Pew Research Center) Roughly nine-in-ten U.S. adults (89%) consider China a competitor or enemy, rather than a partner, according to a new Pew Research Center survey. Many also support taking a firmer approach to the bilateral relationship, whether by promoting human rights in China, getting tougher on China economically or limiting Chinese students studying abroad in the United States. Americans rarely brought up the Chinese people or the country’s long history and culture in their responses. Instead, they focused primarily on the Chinese government—including its policies or how it behaves internationally—as well as its economy.

Ten years on, Japan mourns victims of earthquake, Fukushima nuclear disaster (Reuters) Japan on Thursday mourned nearly 20,000 victims of a massive earthquake and tsunami that struck Japan 10 years ago, destroying towns and triggering nuclear meltdowns in Fukushima, the world’s worst nuclear disaster since Chernobyl. Huge waves triggered by the 9.0-magnitude quake—one of the strongest on record—crashed into the northeastern coast, crippling the Fukushima Dai-ichi power plant and forcing more than 160,000 residents to flee as radiation spewed into the air. The government has spent about $300 billion (32.1 trillion yen) to rebuild the tsunami-devastated region, but areas around the Fukushima plant remain off-limits, worries about radiation levels linger and many who left have settled elsewhere. Decommissioning of the crippled plant will take decades and billions of dollars. The disaster has also left survivors in Tohoku struggling to overcome the grief of losing families and whole communities to the waves in a few frightening hours on the afternoon of March 11, 2011.

Lebanon’s politicians show no sign of saving their country, France says (Reuters) France’s foreign minister said on Thursday time was running out to prevent Lebanon collapsing and that he could see no sign that the country’s politicians were doing what they could to save it. France has spearheaded international efforts to rescue the former French protectorate from its deepest crisis since the 1975-1990 civil war by trying to use Paris’ historical influence to persuade squabbling politicians to adopt a reform roadmap and form a new government to unlock international aid. “I would be tempted to qualify Lebanese politicians as guilty of not helping a country in danger,” Jean-Yves le Drian told a news conference in Paris. “They all committed to act to create an inclusive government and committed to implementing indispensable reforms. That was seven months ago and nothing is moving. I think it’s not too late, but the delays are very small before collapse.”

UN food aid chief visits Yemen, fears famine (AP) The head of the U.N. food agency warned after a visit to Yemen that his underfunded organization may be forced to seek hundreds of millions of dollars in private donations in a desperate bid to stave off widespread famine in coming months, describing conditions in the war-stricken nation as “hell.” The World Food Program needs at least $815 million in Yemen aid over the next six months, but has only $300 million, the agency’s executive director, David Beasley, told The Associated Press in an interview. He said the agency would need another $1.9 billion to meet targets for the year. Beasley visited Yemen earlier this week, including the capital of Sanaa which is under the control of Iran-backed Houthi rebels. He said that at a child malnutrition ward in a Sanaa hospital he saw children wasting away from lack of food. Many, he said, were on the brink of death from entirely preventable and treatable causes, and they were the lucky ones who were receiving medical care. He said the world needs to wake up to how bad things have gotten in Yemen, particularly for the country’s youngest.

Shock and uncertainty after death of Ivory Coast PM Bakayoko (Reuters) Ivory Coast faced shock and uncertainty on Thursday following the death of Prime Minister Hamed Bakayoko, the West African nation’s second premier to die in office in less than eight months. A close ally of President Alassane Ouattara, Bakayoko, who died of cancer a few days after his 56th birthday, was appointed prime minister in July 2020 after the death of his predecessor Amadou Gon Coulibaly, Ouattara’s handpicked successor. A central figure in Ivorian politics over the past two decades as the country was plunged into a prolonged conflict and a partition, Bakayoko, a jovial character with roots in media and showbiz, emerged as a conciliatory figure, able to talk to all sides of the conflict. His capacity to gain the trust of all sides including former rebel soldiers who staged a series of mutinies in 2017, threatening a fragile peace in the world’s top cocoa producing nation, saw him appointed as defence minister in 2017, and kept the portfolio when he became prime minister.

Nuclear power (Scientific American) Nuclear power is waning, but not for the typical fears. Rather, other ways of generating electricity have just become cheaper and more available. Nuclear power in 2020 accounted for about 19 percent of U.S. electricity needs, a figure that by 2050 is projected to slip to 11 percent according to the Energy Information Administration. Nuclear power is over half of low-carbon electricity generation in the U.S., and is about 30 percent of the world’s low-carbon electricity. The coming years will determine how much nuclear power will play a role in the energy future, as new demos of small modular reactors begin to roll out in the United States.

Tiny internal cameras (Times of London) Thousands of NHS patients will be given tiny cameras to swallow to check for cancer in a new national trial. The technology, in a pill-sized capsule, takes images as it passes through the bowel and beams them to a recording device worn on a belt and shoulder bag. It can then be flushed away. Sir Simon Stevens, chief executive of NHS England, said that the “ingenious” capsule cameras would allow more people to undergo cancer investigations quickly and safely.

公告專區

日期：2020年12月3日, 下午3:42 To Warden 1. Ricky borrowed p5,000 this May and p6,000 this June. African Bush bought 4 boxes of cigirattes p1,000 this June. Total was p12,000. Before, Ricky said "Bush will sell bed to pay p12,000." this July. But, African Bush can't get any beds to sell and be depoted this October. Ricky ordered Swede Mike (floor manager) to sell bed to pay P12,000. But, Swede Mike said, "Before, Britush Kevin's case still has p2,000 need to pay. He can't sell bed to pay p12,000." Ricky said "He will report warden to order Korean Mr. Lee ( floor manager) to pay p12,000. No problem". But, I don't get any money until now. PS: Chief Ricky is a BI officer to manage market of cigirattes here.PS : Bush is a detainee that Ricky appointed him to assist management of cigirattes inside. Because, Ricky has problem and trouble with Chinese inside. 2. Warden and Ricky called me to report business of cigirattes this May. I said "Chinese Lee Long and African Bush had no license and illegal selling cigirattes. Many people buy cigirattes on credit and don't pay money more 3 months. But, they have money to buy food, drink, cigirattes everyday. I asked them to pay money. They always told me ´no money and later pay'. It enough to prove they don't want to pay money and intent to cheat cigirattes." Warden said, "Ricky will handle illegal selling and help you ... You write a detail report to him." I writed report to Ricky. Ricky said, "He ordered Bush to stop selling cigirattes himself already. He appointed Bush to manager illegal selling cigirattes inside." Bush said, "He told Chinese Lee Long stop selling cigirattes many times, but no use. Only Ricky can take Lee Long's cigirattes out. But, Ricky has problem and trouble with Chinese inside. If he go to take Chinese Lee Long's inside, maybe many Chinese will angry and fight him." So, nobody handle illegal selling cigirattes until now. Ricky said, "About balance of credit. Japanese boss Satoh handle all Japanese. Korean Mr. Lee handle all Korean. African Bush handle all other foreign. Give them 1 month to pay money. If they still don't pay money, you only file complaint to push them to pay by rules and laws." 3. Japanese Boss Satoh pushed Japanese to pay balance on credit. Most of Japanese all paid and others paid partial money. 3-1. Japanese Satoh P17,850. This is Matsui's balance of credit from Feburay to June this year. Matsui told warden "Satoh got his money P10,000 this July, but don't pay his balance of credit to me." this August. Then, Satoh agreed to pay all balance P17,850 to me this August. But, he doesn't pay any money until now. 3-2. Japanese Matsui P10,450. This is Matsui's balance of credit from August to September this year. Matsui agreed to pay all balance. 3-3. Japanese Toda P4,500. This is Toda's balance of credit from August to September this year. Matsui agreed to pay all balance this November. But, he doesn't pay any money until now. 3-4. Japanese old guy P8,000. He said, "He wait his wife transfer money to him now and will pay all money this November or December." 4. Bush do nothing. So, he can't get anyone's balance of credit and Ricky is angry him. So,Ricky ordered me to file them complaints. 4-1. Romanian Peter (no hair) P6,000. He said " Ricky took p15,000 to help him to buy tattu tools, but don't give him that. Before, he put tattoos on someone be complained to warden and be punished to lock isolation 2 weeks. Romania Peter and shot guy had the same case in the court and came here together. They said " If they won the case already, everyone can get more p100,000....". He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 4-2. Romanian (short guy) P4,000. He said "Bush told him to say no money, don't need to pay any money". So, he always answered me "No money" and rejected to pay any money. He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 4-3. Foreigner (braid) P1,750. He is the good friend of Romaian Peter and short guy. They are smoking and talking together everyday. He always answered me "No money" to reject payment like Romania Peter and short guy. He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 4-4. Chinese (19 years-old sick Epilepsy guy) P1,900. He said "He is sick to get free medecine from BI or other sponcer and free food from Taiwanese cooking store. Why does he need to pay me money? He just has money but doesn't pay me...". He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 4-5. Chinese (Shijiazhuang fat guy) P3,500. He just has money but doesn't pay me...Because, he is 19 years-old sick Epilepsy guy' friend to follow him". He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 4-6. Austrian Tony (old guy) P840. His boss are Spy and Kiwi. He has business of repair electrical fan to make money inside. But, he always told me "No money" and rejected to pay. He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 4-7. Foreigner (beard) P800. His good friends are Korean Peter and Nan. He joined and followed them to challenge warden and Ricky before. '' He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 4-8. Indian tall guy P3,500. He has lundry and clean room business inside. He said, "He wait his customer Korean pay him money." 4-9. African Guy (wear chain) P600. He said, "No money!" He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 4-10. Singaporean (old guy) P900. He said, "Singapore embassy will give him money on August and December." But, BI detention center reject visitor in Bicutan Detention Center now. 4-11. Foreigner Elmer P2,000. He said, "He wait his family transfer money to him now, then all pay." 4-12. Italian Paolo has P40,000. He said "He will get money from bank to pay " this July. He called his friend Swede Mike to help him to get money. Swede Mike said " Paolo will transfer p250,000 from his Italian bank account to BPI bank Magallanes South Branch, then transfer to bank account of Swede Mike's girl friend to bring money to Italian Paolo." this July. I wait 5 months until now, Italian Paolo still does not get any money. Italian Paolo's good friend British guy said "Rich guy, Paolo borrowed a lot of money from other people and bought his food on credit p10,000 this year, but all no pay..." "Before, he is a rich guy to buy and pay." "So, many people borrowed him money or give him buying on credit like you and me." I reported to Ricky. Ricky said, " Italian bank transfer money to BPI bank only 1 or 2 months enough. So, Mike and Paolo had some mistakes or problems.... ". Ricky told me to file complaint for Italian Paolo and he will report warden to understand and help him to get money. 4-13. Swede Mike (floor manager) P2,000. Before, British Kevin had no money to pay cigirattes on credit. So, warden ordered Swede Mike to pay me. Swede only paid partial money this year. Ricky said," He has problem to do anything." 4-14. Taiwanese (fat guy) P14,000. He bought my OPPO A5s (black color) last October. He paid p1000 cash and p14000 balance on credit (after 1 week all pay) to get the phone. But, he didn't pay any money and said " No money! Later pay!" I rejected him and said "You return the cellphone, then I return you p1,000." "Because, you have no money to pay p14,000 balance." He said, "Guards searched the room and took out." Taiwanses old fishman ( his roomate ) told me " He looked Taiwanese fat guy still using the cellphone on the bed at night." last November. So, I told Spy all about the cellphone and went to his room to search it. But, we didn't find it. I and Spy asked him, " Where is the cellphone?" He still answered, "Guards took out, he will pay me money later." But, he doesn't pay any money or return the cellphone until now. He buys cellphone on credit, doedn't pay money more one year. He uses cash to buy cellphones from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cellphone. 5.Korean Mr. Lee (floor manager) told Korean to pay balance on credit. Many Korean paid all balance, some Korean pay partial money, but others rejected to pay any money. 5-1. Korean Peter P1,500. He rejected to pay any money and tried to get more cigirattes on credit. He still challanged warden and Rickey until now. Romaian short guy is his good friend. They are always smoking and talking together. Romania short guy said "Bush told him to say no money, don't need to pay any money". So, they always answered me "No money" and rejected to pay any money. He buys cigirattes on credit, doedn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 5-2. Korean Mr. Se P1,900. He paid partial balance on credit this November. He said,"He will all pay this November or December." 5-3. Korean Mr. Jun P4,500. He still said,"No money, later pay." But, he didn't pay any money until now. Maybe he reject to pay any money. He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 5-4. Korean Mr. ol P3,500. He still said,"No money, later pay." But, he didn't pay any money until now. Maybe he reject to pay any money. He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 5-5. Korean Mr. Ying(Korean store staff) P5,900. He paid partial balance on credit this October and November. 5-6. Korean Mr. SaYang P1,300. He paid partial balance on credit this October and November. He said, "He will all pay this November." 5-7. Korean No hair (Korean coffee shop staff) P2,500. He paid partial balance on credit this October. He said, "He can't get money to pay now, because no visitor to come here." 5-8. Korean Mr. Lee(old guy) P5,100. He said, "He will pay all balance on credit this November and wait his family to transfer money to him. 5-9. Korean Mr. Park P23,450. He paid partial balance on credit this October. He said, "He wait his friend to transfer money to him now. 5-10. Korean Mr. Wo P12,950. He paid partial balance on credit this October and November. He said, "He will pay all balance on credit this December and wait his family to transfer money to him. 5-11. Korean Mr. Wo's brother P1,600. He said, "He will pay all balance on credit this December and wait his family to transfer money to him. 5-12. Korean black glasses(Korean store staff) P13,150. He paid partial balance on credit this October and November. He said, "He will pay all balance on credit this November and December. 5-13. Korean Repair Aircon P8,900. He paid partial balance on credit this October. He said, "He will pay all balance on credit this November and December. 5-14. Korean store P2,400. The white face staff(midnight duty) took total 8 boxes cigirattes divided 5 times that all used Mr. Se on credit. But, Mr. Se said "He never talk store staff to take any cigirattes and use his name on credit". (ARTICLE 1236. The creditor is not bound to accept payment or performance by a third person who has no interest in the fulfillment of the obligation, unless there is a stipulation to the contrary. Whoever pays for another may demand from the debtor what he has paid, except that if he paid without the knowledge or against the will of the debtor, he can recover only insofar as the payment has been beneficial to the debtor. (1158a)) 6. Filed criminal complaints. 6-1. Korean Peter and Mr. Kim (Article 282 RPC therein). 6-2. Korean Peter, Mr. Kim and American Spy (Article 282 RPC therein). 6-3. New Zealanders Kiwi (Article 308 RPC theft). 6-4. Nigerian Black guy (Article 308 RPC theft). 日期：2020年11月30日, 下午6:32 Dear Sir/Ma'am, Good day! This is to respectfully acknowledge receipt of your email. This will be forwarded to our Central Receiving Unit (CRU) for proper disposition. Thank you. 日期：2020年12月10日, 上午9:00 I against following defandants cheated cigirattes ( Principle of good faith ) and outstanding payment ( REPUBLIC ACT NO. 386 AN ACT TO ORDAIN AND INSTITUTE THE CIVIL CODE OF THE PHILIPPINES CHAPTER 4 Extinguishment of Obligations SECTION 1 Payment or Performance ) : 1. Sudanese tall guy has P30,750 balance no pay. He said "His brother transfered money to guard already, he wait guard to give him now..." on last week of November. He said " The guard still tell him wait, when I get money to pay you immediately..." on first week of December. His family transfered money to him every month, when he got money to pay all balance about p10,000~p20,000 before. He is a rich gentleman of good credit in my record. It is enough to prove that he has money to pay balance. 2. I looked he got a bag at 17:00 on Dec. 8. Hongkonger told me "He looked guards catched Swedenese tall guy to isolated room last night. Because, guards inspected drug in the bag." on Dec. 9. His good friend told me " Never looked or listened him to use or sell drug inside .... " He has big trouble, so I can't contact him to get money now. He promised to pay me money last week. I against following defandants theft : Legal basis : 1. Article 308 of the Revised Penal Code (RPC) : Who are liable for theft. Theft is committed by any person who, with i awayntent to gain but without violence against or intimidation of persons nor force upon things, shall take personal property of another without the latter's consent. 2. Gaviola v. People, 516 Phil. 228, 237 (2006). Be that as it may, for the crime of theft to prosper, it must be established beyond doubt that the accused had the intent to steal personal property. This animus furandi pertains to the intent to deprive another of his or her ownership or possession of personal property, apart from but concurrent with the general criminal intent which is an essential element of dolo malus. 3. Supra at 238. The intent to steal is presumed from the taking of personal property without the consent of the owner or its lawful possessor. As in all presumptions, this may be rebutted by evidence showing that the accused took the personal property under a bona fide belief that he owns the property. The fact : 1. Dec. 29 about 11:30 Kiwi tell me need paid water p50. I said, "I paid p100 last Tuesday, but you didn't change p50 until now. He paid, " You need to pay p50 now or stop to drink water. I said, "I need to check the registered book..." I checked the registered book only writed "Pd" 4 times, before I paid p100 only writing "Pd" 3 times. He said," You paid p100 last week, but you need to pay p50..." I asked," Where is my p50 change?" He said, "WaLa" 2. Comprehensively stated enough to prove Kiwi that violated theft. 日期：2021年1月5日, 上午8:00 I against following defandants cheated cigirattes ( Principle of good faith ) and outstanding payment ( REPUBLIC ACT NO. 386 AN ACT TO ORDAIN AND INSTITUTE THE CIVIL CODE OF THE PHILIPPINES CHAPTER 4 Extinguishment of Obligations SECTION 1 Payment or Performance ) : 1. Japanese Satoh P17,850. This is Matsui's balance of credit from Feburay to June this year. Matsui told warden "Satoh got his money P10,000 this July, but don't pay his balance of credit to me." this August. Then, Satoh agreed to pay all balance P17,850 to me this August. But, he doesn't pay any money until now. It is enough to prove that he has money to pay balance and cheat cigirattes. 2. Japanese Matsui P10,450. This is Matsui's balance of credit from August to September this year. Matsui agreed to pay all balance. But, he always told me "No money... wait". It is enough to prove that he has money to pay balance and cheat cigirattes. 3. Japanese Toda P4,500. This is Toda's balance of credit from August to September this year. Matsui agreed to pay all balance this November. But, he doesn't pay any money until now. He always told me "No money... wait". It is enough to prove that he has money to pay balance and cheat cigirattes. 4. Japanese old guy P8,000. He said, "He wait his wife transfer money to him now and will pay all money this November or December." It is enough to prove that he has money to pay balance and cheat cigirattes. 日期：2021年2月2日, 上午9:00 AFFIDAVIT OF COMPLAINT I against following defandants cheated cigirattes ( Principle of good faith ) and outstanding payment ( REPUBLIC ACT NO. 386 AN ACT TO ORDAIN AND INSTITUTE THE CIVIL CODE OF THE PHILIPPINES CHAPTER 4 Extinguishment of Obligations SECTION 1 Payment or Performance ) : 1.BI officer Ricky borrowed p5,000 last May and p6,000 last June. He promised to pay African Bush bought 4 boxes of cigirattes p1,000 last June. Total was p12,000. Before, Ricky said "Bush will sell bed to pay p12,000." this July. But, African Bush can't get any beds to sell and be depoted last October. Ricky ordered Swede Mike (floor manager) to sell bed to pay P12,000. But, Swede Mike said, "Before, Britush Kevin's case still has p2,000 need to pay. He can't sell bed to pay p12,000." Ricky said "He will report warden to order Korean Mr. Lee ( floor manager) to pay p12,000. No problem". But, I don't get any money until now. PS: Chief Ricky is a BI officer to manage market of cigirattes here. PS : Bush is a detainee that Ricky appointed him to assist management of cigirattes inside. Because, Ricky has problem and trouble with Chinese inside. 2. Japanese Satoh P17,850. This is Matsui's balance of credit from Feburay to June this year. Matsui told warden "Satoh got his money P10,000 this July, but don't pay his balance of credit to me." last August. Then, Satoh agreed to pay all balance P17,850 to me last August. But, he doesn't pay any money until now. 3. Japanese Matsui P9,000. This is Matsui's balance of credit from August to September last year. Matsui agreed to pay all balance. 4. Japanese Toda P4,500. This is Toda's balance of credit from August to September last year. Matsui agreed to pay all balance last November. But, he doesn't pay any money until now. 5. Japanese old guy P8,000. He said, "He wait his wife transfer money to him now and will pay all money last November or December." 6. Romanian Peter (no hair) P6,000. He said " Ricky took p15,000 to help him to buy tattu tools, but don't give him that. Before, he put tattoos on someone be complained to warden and be punished to lock isolation 2 weeks. Romania Peter and shot guy had the same case in the court and came here together. They said " If they won the case already, everyone can get more p100,000....". He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 7. Romanian (tall guy) P4,000. Romanian (short guy) was deported this January. He said "He has no money to pay p4,000 now. His best friend Romanian tall guy will help him to pay p4,000. Team leader and guard said his friend Romania tall guy will help him to pay, so agreed him to leave. But, Romania tall guy doesn't pay any money until now. 8. Foreigner (braid) P1,750. He is the good friend of Romaian Peter and short guy. They are smoking and talking together everyday. He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 9. Chinese (19 years-old sick Epilepsy guy) P1,900. He said "He is sick to get free medecine from BI or other sponcer and free food from Taiwanese cooking store. Why does he need to pay me money? He just has money but doesn't pay me...". He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 10.Chinese (Shijiazhuang fat guy) P3,500. He just has money but doesn't pay me ...Because, he is 19 years-old sick Epilepsy guy' friend to follow him". He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 11.Austrian Tony (old guy) P840. His boss are Spy and Kiwi. He has business of repair electrical fan to make money inside. But, he always told me "No money" and rejected to pay. He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 12.Foreigner (beard) P600. His good friends are Korean Peter and Nan. He joined and followed them to challenge warden and Ricky before. '' He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 13.Indian tall guy P2,000. He has lundry and clean room business inside. He said, "He wait his customer Korean pay him money." 14.African Guy (wear chain) P600. He said, "No money!" He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 15.Singaporean (old guy) P800. He said, "Singapore embassy will give him money on August and December." But, BI detention center reject visitor in Bicutan Detention Center now. 16.Foreigner Elmer P1,500. He said, "He wait his family transfer money to him now, then all pay." 17.Italian Paolo has P40,000. He said "He will get money from bank to pay " this July. He called his friend Swede Mike to help him to get money. Swede Mike said " Paolo will transfer p250,000 from his Italian bank account to BPI bank Magallanes South Branch, then transfer to bank account of Swede Mike's girl friend to bring money to Italian Paolo." this July. I wait 5 months until now, Italian Paolo still does not get any money. Italian Paolo's good friend British guy said "Rich guy, Paolo borrowed a lot of money from other people and bought his food on credit p10,000 this year, but all no pay..." "Before, he is a rich guy to buy and pay." "So, many people borrowed him money or give him buying on credit like you and me." I reported to Ricky. Ricky said, " Italian bank transfer money to BPI bank only 1 or 2 months enough. So, Mike and Paolo has some mistakes or problems.... ". Ricky told me to file complaint for Italian Paolo and he will report warden to understand and help him to get money. 18.Swede Mike (floor manager) P2,000. Before, British Kevin had no money to pay cigirattes on credit. So, warden ordered Swede Mike to pay me. Swede only paid partial money this year. Ricky said," He has problem to do anything." 19.Taiwanese (fat guy) P14,000. He bought my OPPO A5s (black color) last October. He paid p1000 cash and p14000 balance on credit (after 1 week all pay) to get the phone. But, he didn't pay any money and said " No money! Later pay!" I rejected him and said "You return the cellphone, then I return you p1,000." "Because, you have no money to pay p14,000 balance." He said, "Guards searched the room and took out." Taiwanses old fishman ( his roomate ) told me " He looked Taiwanese fat guy still using the cellphone on the bed at night." last November. So, I told Spy all about the cellphone and went to his room to search it. But, we didn't find it. I and Spy asked him, " Where is the cellphone?" He still answered, "Guards took out, he will pay me money later." But, he doesn't pay any money or return the cellphone until now. He buys cellphone on credit, doedn't pay money more one year. He uses cash to buy cellphones from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cellphone. 20.Korean Peter P1,500. He rejected to pay any money and tried to get more cigirattes on credit. He still challanged warden and Rickey until now. Romaian short guy is his good friend. They are always smoking and talking together. Romania short guy said "Bush told him to say no money, don't need to pay any money". So, they always answered me "No money" and rejected to pay any money. He buys cigirattes on credit, doedn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 21.Korean Mr. Se P1,900. He paid partial balance on credit this November. He said,"He will all pay this November or December." 22.Korean Mr. Jun P4,500. He still said,"No money, later pay." But, he didn't pay any money until now. Maybe he reject to pay any money. He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 23.Korean Mr. ol P3,500. He still said,"No money, later pay." But, he didn't pay any money until now. Maybe he reject to pay any money. He buys cigirattes on credit, doesn't pay money more half year. He uses cash to buy cigirattes from other sellers. It is enough to prove, he cheats cigirattes. 24.Korean No hair (Korean coffee shop staff) P2,500. He paid partial balance on credit this October. He said, "He can't get money to pay now, because no visitor to come here." 25.Korean Mr. Lee(old guy) P5,000. He said, "He will pay all balance on credit this November and wait his family to transfer money to him. 26.Korean black glasses(Korean store staff) P13,150. He paid partial balance on credit this October and November. He said, "He will pay all balance on credit this November and December. 27.Korean store P2,400. The white face staff(midnight duty) took total 8 boxes cigirattes divided 5 times that all used Mr. Se on credit. But, Mr. Se said "He never talk store staff to take any cigirattes and use his name on credit". (ARTICLE 1236. The creditor is not bound to accept payment or performance by a third person who has no interest in the fulfillment of the obligation, unless there is a stipulation to the contrary. Whoever pays for another may demand from the debtor what he has paid, except that if he paid without the knowledge or against the will of the debtor, he can recover only insofar as the payment has been beneficial to the debtor. (1158a)) 6. Filed criminal complaints. 6-1. Korean Peter and Mr. Kim (Article 282 RPC therein). 6-2. Korean Peter, Mr. Kim and American Spy (Article 282 RPC therein). 6-3. New Zealanders Kiwi (Article 308 RPC theft). 6-4. Nigerian Black guy (Article 308 RPC theft). IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto affixed my signature this day of Feb. 2 , 2021, in the City of Taguig, Metro Manila.

Omg! That was a great beginning here! Thanks for your lovely words anon ~

Oh dear, Lucci! First time ever I write about him! I love your marshmallow definition by the way?? Really cute!

I hope you'll enjoy this!

Sanji :

• Sanji's main mission in this world is to make you happy, so if you're always smiling, this is a total win

• When you burst into a wonderful and genuine laugh, or when you seem so positive, it makes his heart races inside his chest, in the most enjoyable way

• He's a natural cuddler, so he clearly doesn't mind hugging you anytime you want it

• In fact, it's quite normal for him to open his arms and welcome you in, his face lightened with the greatest smile possible, craving your body against his torso

• It often leads you to something sexy, because Sanji has a lot of desires, and feeling your tiny body so close is the biggest turn on he knows

• You seem like a real solar couple ; always blissful and genuinely happy together

• Sanji, though, doesn't appreciate when a man comes to hug you

• He's somehow very possessive, so when this person tries to have you against his chest, Sanji shows him the darkest look he has and demands him to piss off, and immediately

• He knows that he can trust you, but he can't help himself ; you're his precious little partner, and no one can touch you

• No one... except all the ladies around, because Sanji doesn't mind at all when you embraces a woman, his deepest fantasies awaken, gently tickling his crotch for a second

• In the end, you certainly have the best nature for Sanji, and having you by his side is his every day pleasure

Robin :

• Robin doesn't really say it, but she craves affective gestures and loves to hug

• She's a really good hugger, her many hands there to pat your skin gently as you find a comforting place inside her arms

• She never asks for it, but most of the time, Robin likes to fondle your arm, silently invinting you to come closer if you want it

• When she feels a bit down, Robin is the one who circles your chest, silently pulling you closer as she needs nothing but your best medecine to heal her blue day

• It makes her feel good, and loved, to have such a positive and caring partner, and she feels at ease with you around

• Your hugs can turn into something more steamy when it's in the intimicy of your room, but most of the time, it's your best way to communicate your love

• Robin isn't really possessive, and since you are together, she's mature enough to trust you, so if you ever hug someone in front of her, she just smiles and approves it

• She finds it cute and adorable, you have the power to bring love to other people, and this gift is something to share, Robin has understood it

• Sometimes, she even proposes you to hug someone, when she notices that this person is feeling down ; she knows your hugs are the best, and if it could warm their heart, then she pushes you to do it

• In the end, you both share a healthy and balanced relationship, you're more demonstrative than Robin, but she's never cold or distant with you

Lucci :

• Lucci clearly doesn't appreciate this kind of behaviors

• Being all smily and always positive doesn't really echoe for him... He would prefer if you stay casual and less "extravagant"

• When it comes to the hug part, he prefers to turn you down, keeping a sort of platonic relationship between the two of you, since kindness doesn't really suit him

• He tolerates hugs and a few kisses in your privacy, but it's rare, and he often brushes you off rather than showing demonstrative gestures

• It makes him feel uncomfortable and weak, and for him, this is definitely the most unbearable feeling ; he despites it

• Of course, he might sometimes accept intercourses with you, but it suits his severe figure, and most of the time it's barely romantic

• He can show a more passionate face though, his desires setting ablazed when you show more strength and supremacy, but not when you're kind or tender

• Yet, he can't change you, so Lucci judges your behaviors, but he does it silently

• He raises a furious eyebrow when people hugs you in the street, more concerned about his reputation than some possessive feelings

• He doesn't approve, yet he keeps it for himself ; there's no need to make a scandal, but if you ever ask him if it bother him or not, he might severely answer that it's a disgusting show for him

Hello Secret Santa!

It occurs to me that just a vague link to the garbage fire that is my tumblr isn’t going to help you much, so I made a character reference guide for my idiots. 

If you’re unfamiliar with the Mass Effect universe (which you might be, or might need a refresher) I hope it’s useful. 

Kolyat Krios:

I don’t actually own him, I adopted him from BioWare. Kolyat is the son of Thane Krios, an infamous assassin. His childhood was not a nice one, but Kol got his life together after the war and decided not to murder people for a living like dear old dad did.

Kolyat is a drell, a scaled, bipedal race that are rare to the point of extinction in the universe, thanks to destroying their homeworld; only half a million of them exist, which is nothing. A large chunk of this population are subservient/lackeys to a jellyfish-like sentient race called the hanar, who use the drell to operate their machinery and fight for them, often from a young age. It is called the Compact agreement, and drell have worked off their debt for being ‘saved’ from their dying planet for centuries, with no sign of leaving it- yet.

Kolyat is not part of the Compact, nor does he have a hanar handler. In my Postwar ‘neon noir’ universe he is somewhat independent of his homeworld and lives on the Citadel; Kolyat is instead a 20-something detective in C-Sec, a job that defines him.

He lives on a mass, multispecies Ward on the space station -like DS9, but far more civilian- think NYC, London and Hong Kong on acid. Kolyat works for the station’s Homicide and Violent Crimes division; he finds the work fulfilling, but is a workaholic about solving the cases.

Kolyat’s a little bit grumpy, a little bit sarcastic, often prone to scowling. He is also a secret softy, despite the distant introversion- good with kids and pets, despite grumbling appearances. Once he trusts you enough to let you in, you have a friend for life, but he’s guarded about his past for good reasons.

Outfit wise, he’s a man who dresses for comfort, not style. He wears a constricting uniform all day, so his civvies are the 2190 equivalent of jogging bottoms and t-shirts. I mostly draw him in his battered leather jacket, but it’s fine without too.

His tag is: [HERE]. I have made outfit/inspiration sheets [HERE].

I actually really love his in game model, it’s not just a recolour of his dad. That chin! It’s truly excellent. Kolyat is head over heels in love (to his bafflement) with...

Oriana Lawson Lee:

They met at a postwar party on the Citadel, a few years after the Reapers were destroyed. I don’t actually own her either, I also adopted her from BioWare. She’s the sister/twin/clone of Miranda Lawson, but goes by her adopted family’s name of Lee.

Like Kolyat, Ori’s past isn’t a nice one; she was created in a laboratory to be a clone of her sister, a genetically perfect human. Ori was smuggled out as an infant to live a normal life for 19 years with her adopted family; during the war she was kidnapped and held at a space concentration camp by her creator, where he experimented on refugees and turned them into fodder for the war.

She survived, but has scars she keeps quiet about. Oriana is an ‘Ori’ to most people, and the kind of person in which the definition of charisma is usually applied to. She just has something that makes her noticeable- when she wants to. Ori is old Hollywood glam passed through a sci-fi filter, and is usually dressed to impress- often to a calculated degree. Feel free to go over the top with with pretty dresses and red carpet/gala looks, it’s very much her brand.

It’s not all sashaying around in heels, though. Oriana is also a structural engineer and colony developer for Kellam Industries, a sort of made up Doctors Without Borders/ Medecins Sans Frontier charity in the 2190s, and homes displaced refugees for a living. If you want to draw this side of her too, I will be just as delighted.

She and Kolyat seem like complete opposites, but are very much in love- even if they can’t work it out yet. Ori definitely keeps him on his toes; she’s guarded about her past, for obvious backstory reasons.

Ori’s tag is [HERE] and her wardrobe inspo tag is [HERE.] I have made two outfit/inspiration sheets [HERE] and [HERE].

I actually ignore the in game model, especially ME3′s horrible version. I don’t have a face claim for her, but I’ve drawn her plenty of times now for her to be distinctively her.  (I say, hopefully.)

Fish The Cat:

Fish is a standard short-haired cat that belongs to Kolyat, a stray he found and brought back home. She is as grumpy as her owner, but still the boss- Fish remains the absolute queen of their household.

She’s a grey-brown tabby with a white bib and matching socks; at one point she was overweight thanks to her food obsession, but Kolyat half-heartedly tries to keep it below chonk levels. Fish is very much his cat, the only one who she’ll let touch her/pet/etc. It seems Ori’s charm doesn’t actually work on belligerent cats at all, and Fish can be spiteful if she tries to hard.

Fish’s tag is [HERE]. She has no faceclaim (lol) but she’s just a standard tabby and white housecat you can find everywhere, really.

Detective Batesda “Bats” T’Lori:

T’Lori -Bats to his friends- is part of the same team/squad as Kolyat is in C-Sec. He’s also the closest thing Kolyat has to a best friend, which considering their personality difference, is hilarious.

Bats is a he/him asari. Asari are the universe’s space-elves, but female-presenting; his choice in pronouns is unusual for the setting, but accepted.

He will often roast the shit out of Kolyat on a daily basis. Bats is on paper is quite odious -a joker, never keeps the same lover around longer than a month, heavy drinker, titty obsessed, anime obsessive, lazy- but somehow has a certain charm that makes him get away with most of it.

Bats is an absolute powerhouse of a biotic (space wizard magic), and the squad’s heaviest hitter because of it. He dresses in practical clothing, but is fond of catsuits and one-pieces (no dresses.) He’s not a particular snazzy dresser, though, but is fond of wearing black and red.

Bats’ tag is [HERE]. I’ve used Ruby Rose a couple of times as reference for his face.

Detective Arjul Patel

Patel is part of the same team/squad as Kolyat in C-Sec, and self-appointed Squad Dad. He has somewhat gross traits; the one most likely to roll up his sleeve to show you his elbow rash, but he’ll also bring in candy and snacks he’s made for the crew.

He’s in his fifties, and has brown skin, warm brown eyes with a sly twinkle in them and a well combed head of black hair. Thanks to a steady diet of snacks, Patel has a little belly- he also has very impressive eyebrows that are very expressive. 

Patel is a born and bred Indian, but moved off world to a colony as soon as he was able. He has less art than the others; I have used Nawazuddin Siddiqui as a face ref for a few paintings, but softened his features every time. 

Patel’s tag is [HERE].

Thank you for reading all this!

Art of any of these characters is more than fine with me, but a combination of the above will probably make my christmas.

A lot of Kol and Ori is my headcanon interwoven with actual canon, if you’re reading it all and going “I don’t remember that” that’s why. All the fan wiki links are legit canon, though.

I write about them as well as draw them, hence the mass amount of words. Their stories are up on A03.

I also answer questions about the characters a great deal in asks and prompts, the tag is [HERE].

Feel free to send me asks via anon if you want to know anything else <3

RECOMENDATION CHART IF YOU LIKE GIRLS WITH RED HAIR AND INTERESTING WORLD BUILDING (and are willing to watch some AWESOME old animes)

because we get so many new amazing shows that sometimes we forget that there is years of awesome hidden gems that might end up being your fave but that you don’t even know exist.

So lets start! 

A few years ago Akatsuki no yona came out and everyone was surprised by how deep it went into the ruling of the kingdom and political drama. So if you enjoyed this:

But want something with more action, less romance and more on character growth and and political drama (with a side of great world building and a isekai that is NOT a europe medieval fantasy world with a guy that is overpowered ) you might want to check this!:

The 12 kingdoms! 

Youko Nakajima has only ever wanted to be normal. She does what she is asked, gets good grades, is the class president, and even helps her classmates whenever she can—but because of her red hair, she has never fit in. With her pushover attitude, Youko lets classmates take advantage of her, so she has nobody she can really call a friend. But on an otherwise ordinary day, a man who claims to be from another world barges into Youko's classroom and bows before her. This elegant blond-haired man, Keiki, claims that Youko is his master and belongs on the throne of his kingdom. However, their first meeting is cut short as Keiki has been followed by otherworldly beasts called youma. He is able to escape with Youko into his own realm, but two other classmates—Ikuya Asano and Yuka Sugimoto—are caught up in the madness as well. Unfortunately, their troubles have only just begun, as the youma attack leaves them separated from Keiki. Alone in this strange new land, these ordinary students must learn to fend for themselves or die.

But now you actually wanted something with MORE romance and less action but still political drama! 

then nothing will please you more than...AKAGAMI NO SHIRAYUKI HIME!

Although her name means "snow white," Shirayuki is a cheerful, red-haired girl living in the country of Tanbarun who works diligently as an apothecary at her herbal shop. Her life changes drastically when she is noticed by the silly prince of Tanbarun, Prince Raji, who then tries to force her to become his concubine. Unwilling to give up her freedom, Shirayuki cuts her long red hair and escapes into the forest, where she is rescued from Raji by Zen Wistalia, the second prince of a neighboring country, and his two aides. Hoping to repay her debt to the trio someday, Shirayuki sets her sights on pursuing a career as the court herbalist in Zen's country, Clarines. Akagami no Shirayuki-hime depicts Shirayuki's journey toward a new life at the royal palace of Clarines, as well as Zen's endeavor to become a prince worthy of his title. As loyal friendships are forged and deadly enemies formed, Shirayuki and Zen slowly learn to support each other as they walk their own paths.

BUT now you kinda want something with still a new set of different fantasy world building and more medecine and less romance with a bigger focus on a character growing up in front of us into an amazing young woman. 

Then you want KEMONO NO SOUJA ERIN!

In the land of Ryoza, the neighboring provinces of Shin-Ou and Tai-Kou have been at peace. Queen Shinou is the ruler of Ryoza and her greatest general, Grand Duke Taikou, defends the kingdom with his army of powerful war-lizards known as the "Touda." Although the two regions have enjoyed a long-standing alliance, mounting tensions threaten to spark a fierce civil war. Within Ake, a village in Tai-Kou tasked with raising the Grand Duke's army, lives Erin, a bright girl who spends her days watching the work of her mother Soyon, the village's head Touda doctor. But while under Soyon's care, a disastrous incident befalls the Grand Duke's strongest Touda, and the peace that Erin and her mother had been enjoying vanishes as Soyon is punished severely. In a desperate attempt to save her mother, Erin ends up falling in a river and is swept towards Shin-Ou. Unable to return home, Erin must learn to lead a new life with completely different people, all while hunting for the truth of both beasts and humanity itself, with tensions between the two regions constantly escalating.

BUT now you kinda wish you had a story with a mix between all of these with a more serious tone. THEN YOU WANT : SEREI NO MORIBITO

On the precipice of a cataclysmic drought, the Star Readers of the Shin Yogo Empire must devise a plan to avoid widespread famine. It is written in ancient myths that the first emperor, along with eight warriors, slew a water demon to avoid a great drought and save the land that was to become Shin Yogo. If a water demon was to appear once more, its death could bring salvation. However, the water demon manifests itself within the body of the emperor's son, Prince Chagum—by the emperor's order, Chagum is to be sacrificed to save the empire. Meanwhile, a mysterious spear-wielding mercenary named Balsa arrives in Shin Yogo on business. After saving Chagum from a thinly veiled assassination attempt, she is tasked by Chagum's mother to protect him from the emperor and his hunters. Bound by a sacred vow she once made, Balsa accepts. Seirei no Moribito follows Balsa as she embarks on her journey to protect Chagum, exploring the beauty of life, nature, family, and the bonds that form between strangers.

BUT NOW YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO SOMETHING LIGHTER WITH LESS ACTION, MORE ROMANCE BUT STILL A BIT OF POLITICAL DRAMA AND MORE HUMOR. YOU THEN WANT: SAIUNKOKU MONOGATARI.

Most people think being born into a noble family means a life of comfort and wealth. That couldn't be further from the truth for Shuurei Kou. Despite the Kou family being an old and important bloodline, they've fallen on hard times. Shuurei's father works as an archivist in the Imperial library, which is a prestigious position, but unfortunately not one that pays much. To put food on the table, Shuurei works odd jobs such as teaching young children or playing live music in a restaurant―and even then, it's barely enough. Then, one day, a court advisor makes Shuurei an offer. If she becomes the concubine of the new, but lazy, emperor and teaches him how to become a good ruler, then she will receive 500 pieces of gold. Never one to turn down good money, Shuurei accepts the proposition. After all, the new emperor only prefers men so her virtue is safe… or so she thinks. The more time she spends in the palace, the more her old dream of becoming a court official is reignited. There's only one problem: she's a woman and women do not become government officials. Shuurei may be able to turn the emperor into a good ruler, but will it be at the expense of her own aspirations?

and thats it for now! and I still 100% recommend all those anime!

Meet my characters

I went through a few days of writer’s block, as one does, so I spent one of them creating cute avatars of my characters in Zepeto (also tried the Sims, but my too old laptop crashed before I saved -.-) which also helped me see them a little bit clearer. 

So here they are! 

Rusanda

The main character, she’s a Romanian expat in Paris, working as a barista. She’s a petite, dreamy bookworm, living more in her head and in imaginary worlds than in the real one. Passionate about folklore and mythology, she’s known to drop odd bits of information and anecdotes onto her unaware friends. She’d rather be home with a book than in the middle of a party, and is anxious about pretty much everything that is unknown to her (places, people, situations...) 

Axel 

Rusanda’s best friend since college, Axel is a protective kind of person: of his friends, his sister, and the catacombs of Paris - which he explores endlessly and loves more than any other place he knows. Because of his Scandinavian descent, Axel is jokingly nicknamed “Thor” or “the Viking” by Rusanda, and he deserves it. (The Zepeto avatar doesn’t do him justice, to be honest.) His job as a tourist guide - putting his extensive historical knowledge to use - as well as some photography projects allow him to earn enough to live on, while maintaining the level of freedom he needs. 

Lilianne

Axel’s younger sister, she is described by Rusanda as “every bit the typical Parisian, from her naturally mussed blonde hair to her ripped jeans stuck in flowery Wellington boots” (it’s fair to say she doesn’t like Lilianne much - at least at first). Although she seems frivolous and empty-headed, Lilianne will surprise everyone but her brother when attacked by a stranger in the catacombs.

“‘Good evening, Lilianne’, Axel smiled, pulling her to his chest with one arm. She struggled briefly, flailing around to no avail, and gave in. ‘And so you meet my sister’, came the explanation, while still keeping her face buried into his coat. ‘Feeling warmer down there now?’ The coat mumbled angrily. Laughing, the second girl tried to help by pulling at Axel’s arm with just as much success until, magnanimously, he let go of his sulking sibling.”

David

Also met Rusanda in college, but their relationship is, let’s say, different than the one she has with Axel. From an Egyptian family who moved to France two generations ago, he’s completing his Master’s degree in English literature. 

“David looked at me intently. Fire rose in my cheeks, and my heartbeat went wild. When we'd met in college, his lazy smile and dark eyes, half hidden by long lashes, had wiped me off my feet like a tidal wave. Ever since, we'd been caught in a dance of side glances, ambiguous smiles, and half spoken invitations that said nothing clear, and left everything to interpretation. Under his burning gaze, I wondered if the charms of my pagan ancestors could bring us to finally cross the line. Axel coughed discreetly. 'I have an idea...'I fought for control and managed, with some difficulty, to take my eyes off David. Looking into his was enthralling, like staring into the depths of a whirlpool. The smile he gave me was a riddle.”

Michelle

Came from Cameroon to study medecine in Paris. Michelle is a warm and caring person, always putting the others before herself and downplaying her own merits. 

“‘I’m Michelle’, the girl said, adjusting her bonnet over the thick curls and offering us a wide, warm smile, complete with tooth gap and dimples, which contrasted beautifully against her dark skin. ‘In charge of any medical attention that hopefully no one will need tonight.’“

(Unfortunately, Zepeto doesn’t feature African hair -.-)

P.S. She’s the character for which I was asking for help on one of my first posts, and I’d still appreciate any advice

#10yrsago The Photographer: gripping graphic memoir about doctors in Soviet Afghanistan, accompanied by brilliant photos

FirstSecond, one of the great literary comics presses of the modern world, has topped itself with The Photographer: Into war-torn Afghanistan with Doctors Without Borders, a collaboration between photographer Didier Lefevre, graphic novelist Emmanuel Guibert, and designer Frederic Lemercier.

The book is the memoir of Didier, a photographer who accompanied a caravan of Medecins Sans Frontiers doctors into war-torn Afghanistan to staff a clinic in the middle of the Soviet-Mujahideen war. Didier dictated the memoir to Guibert (the graphic novelist who also produced Alan's War, a stunning memoir of post-war France) before he died of a heart-attack, and Guibert and Lemercier worked to turn this into The Photographer.

Visually, The Photographer resembles nothing so much as a Tin Tin adventure, except that it is liberally sprinkled with Didier's photos and contact sheets, dropped in among the drawn panels, incorporated seamlessly into the action. Didier was a powerful, naturalistic photographer, unflinching and unpretentious, and between the finished drawings and the annotated contact sheets, you get a sense of a real artist at work.

The story is in three parts: first, there is the journey to the clinic, which begins in Pakistan where Didier meets all manner of intelligence operatives, pathological liars, adventurers and NGO workers, and then follows the MSF crew as they meet up with escort of Mujahideen guerrillas and arms-smugglers, buy their horses and donkeys, and are smuggled over the border into Afghanistan. After this, the caravan proceeds through the towns and mountains of Afghanistan, dodging Soviet helicopters, losing pack animals over sheer cliffs, and watching in horror as the discipline in their escort is brutally enforced. The caravan is led by an unlikely and charismatic woman doctor who commands the Muj's respect through sheer competence and force of will.

The second part of the story tells of Didier's time at the clinic, as all manner of war-wounded, ill and orphaned victims are processed and treated by the doctors, tales of horrific woundings and incredible bravery and sacrifice and nobility. After a while, it becomes too much for Didier, who decides -- unwisely -- to return to Pakistan alone, with just an escort of Afghani farmers with whom he does not share a common language.

Finally, Didier tells the story of his voyage home, a gruelling trip that gets worse after he is abandoned by his escort. After coming close to death, he is rescued by grifters who rob him -- but get him to safety. After more misadventures, he arrives home, finally, in Paris.

The story is very well told, a gripping adventure that sheds light on subjects as diverse as faith, photography, art, love, nobility, Soviet-Afghani relations, pride, masculinity, racism, and bravery. As I said, the photos are magnificent -- worth the cover-price alone -- but the story makes them so much better. This isn't just a great photography book, it's a great novel, a great comic, a great memoir, and a great history text.

The Photographer: Into war-torn Afghanistan with Doctors Without Borders

The Photographer sampler (PDF)

https://boingboing.net/2009/05/12/the-photographer-gri.html