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adaradin · 2 years
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Getting ready to dance! #BellyDanceJoy #bellydancer #BellyDancersOfInstagram #RaqsSharqi #Saiidi #Baladi #dance (at Washburn, Wisconsin) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cle-0lLMEN8/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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BELOW THE SURFACE: CHAPTER FIVE:
Below the Surface: A 2023 Lackadaisy Fanfiction...now posted here, there, and NOW on Tumblr. Enjoy!
---“Often enough the manipulator approaches, stimulates, or even creates a powerful wish or a strong desire in the target's mind.” – Sapir Handelman ---
"His voice means to deceive you...my voice just wants to lead you...Below the Surface."
-🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹-
“Need you go on about this murder, dear?”
“I have to: Lacrimosa’s orders.”
Mandisa had slid off her cloak, and sat on the couch in the jazz lounge. Barely anyone was there, aside from her, and her lovely Maine Coon lover: James Monroe. An author from England, traveling for inspiration and businesses. He had treated her better than her ex husband ever had. She didn’t feel like an object around James.
“You have to realize that you’ve been running yourself ragged.” James gave her a knowing look. Mandisa craned her neck up to look into his blue eyes, and how they softened when they were around her.
“Business is business, my darling. I cannot control that.” Mandisa replied, a bit curtly, even. James merely raised an eyebrow. He sighed, his shoulders dropping.
“Let me make you a drink, at least…you need to unwind.” He insisted. He turned on his heel and left to the other direction, his bushy tail gently brushing against her arm. Mandisa turned her head to watch him, and she held her arms. A faint smile came across her slightly wrinkled face, and those wrinkles did represent a bit of happiness. The dimples she harnessed whenever she smiled. Her blistering glare made her dangerously attractive, at least to James.
After a while, he came back with a cup and a saucer of Saiidi tea: her favorite. Seeped for five minutes over a burning fire. The fragrance calmed her down, and her ears slicked back. Her fingers traced the porcelain cup gently, and she held the handle. She brought it to her mouth and sipped carefully.
“...thank you, James.” She whispered.
“Anytime, love.” James pressed a gentle hand against hers. “How are Malachi and Cassandra?”
“Both are excelling in school. Cassandra is enjoying her art class, and Malachi is exceptionally good at baseball.”
“Ah, perfect!”
“Not perfect: …comforting.”
“Comforting?”
“Knowing how resilient they are, despite not having Aziraphale with them. Those two are thicker than thieves, now…”
James gave another smile, then a hum as an answer. “You’re a good mother, my dear. I am unable to comprehend how much you stress over being terrible.”
“I want a better life for them, James.” Mandisa’s smile dropped, and it faded into something sullen. “I shouldn’t be doing this job, but after… this, ” She gestured to her glass eye, and the jagged scratches on her eye, “this and the rumors…rumors of a divorce between ‘the Marvelous Mandisa’ and her ever-so-loving husband?”
“Is that why you chose to hide away?” James’ voice turned gentle. Mandisa squeezed her eyes shut, grimacing ever so slightly. She turned her head to look up at him, her eyes becoming glossy.
“Not hide away: run. ” She lowered her voice. “Princeton was my home…until Lorenzo ruined it for me.” She hissed out the last part. “I’m already torn. I couldn't take Aziraphale, despite me wanting to get him into a safer environment. Lorenzo didn’t listen to me, nor did he care.”
“...it was all arranged, correct?”
“Pardon?”
“The marriage, I mean.”
“Unfortunately…though he started off nice…things went horrible slowly.”
“My condolences, Mandisa.”
“Don’t be: condolences don’t convert already–done damage.” She went silent once she heard the familiar clicking of heels. She sighed, straightening herself up and placing the cup and saucer down. James gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, before walking off, just in time for Lacrimosa to walk in. She wasn’t in her usual flapper dress. In fact, she was in her suit. Her slacks were black, her undershirt was white, and her jacket was dark blue, with a fresh rose regalia pinned onto the lapel. She fixed her cufflinks, her tail swishing. 
“Mandisa, honey…how did the assassination go?” She kept her gaze down. The brim of her fedora was covering her amber–orange eyes, hiding the indication of how she was feeling.
“A failed assassination attempt. Heller is a damn monster with that gun.” Mandisa remained calm. Lacrimosa raised a brow. She slowly walked over to the booth, watching the Sphinx cat in front of her.
“So you’re telling me you failed?” She spoke in a dulcet tone.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Hmm.”
“I can certainly try again: though it’s going to be a better plan in order to execute it perfectly.”
“Are you defying my orders?”
“I–-excuse me?” Mandisa stared in disbelief. Lacrimosa lifted her head, showing a flash of disdain in her eyes.
“I heard through your yammering that the plan didn’t work: it was the fact that you didn’t try hard enough .” She made herself tower over the other. Mandisa’s ears flattened on her head, and she bit her tongue.
“...you’re correct, ma’am.” She gave a singular nod. “I should’ve tried harder.”
Lacrimosa smiled a bit. “Good: that’s all I needed to hear. Now…where’s that violin of yours? How about you play us a symphony?~” She smirked.
“...I don’t play for anyone but my children.” Mandisa stood her ground.
“Mhh. A pity.” Lacrimosa toyed with her cufflinks, now. “Mmm. Alright. I suppose I can let this slide once. But do me a favor?”
Mandisa blinked. “Yes?”
“If you fail another mission for me, then you are certainly going to be replaced by Silas: we both don’t want that to happen.” Lacrimosa tilted her head slightly. Mandisa pursed her lips tightly, nodding again.
“Yes…you are correct.” She choked out.
“Good: now, I’m off to the Hotel Maribel to discuss some…business, with dear ole’ Mr. Sweet.” Lacrimosa tipped her hat. “Make sure the Tueuse siblings don't cause any trouble~”
“You get to deal with them in the hotel, remember?”
“...agh, damnit. How didn’t I recall?”
Mandisa had to fight off a smirk. “Apologies for the inconvenience.” 
“Whatever is an inconvenience can be shifted into a convenience~” Lacrimosa waved a hand. She cocked her M1911, then went to a coat rack in the front of the jazz lounge. She threw it on, and glared over her shoulder. “Don’t disappoint me: you’ve reached the top, so don’t tumble to the bottom.” She gripped the door handle and flew it open. She walked out, slamming the door shut, and Mandisa was alone with her thoughts. She sat down in the booth, fingers tapping gently at her cup of tea now…it was cold. She ran a head on her head, eyes dulling. She gripped her ear.
“Damnit…” She whispered. Lacrimosa was certainly interesting, coming to emotional outbursts or reactions. She would be sweeter than honey one minute, then an absolute monster the next. She was very unpredictable.
Mandisa felt a sudden weight in the booth, and a hand on her shoulder. She was pulled closer by James, and rested his head on her head. His eyes closed slightly.
“...I know it’s rough…yet you’re doing so good.”
“I hardly recall being drained as ‘doing good’.”
“Yet here you are, trying your hardest.”
Mandisa hummed at the comment. “I don’t feel it’s enough.”
“...to me, it is.” James slowly reached for her hand, his fingers laced with hers. He smiled slightly, his eyes squinting slightly. Mandisa cracked a grin, her dimples being accentuated. It made James feel slightly relieved to witness her smile now.
…it made him feel complete.
“...where is Silas, again?”
“He and Raquelle are at Hotel Maribel. Raquelle had gotten too tipsy to return, and Silas had to deal with doing another murder.”
“Well I’ll be damned.”
“I surely am.”
“Hey now.”
“You know it’s true, James.” Mandisa pulled her hand away reluctantly. Yet she didn’t fight James’ thumb running against her knuckles gently. “I wouldn’t be here if Lorenzo wasn’t unfaithful.”
“If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t have known how much of a lovely person you are.” James whispered. Mandisa stared at him. She gripped his hand one more time.
“You’re too sweet.” She mumbled.
“I’m only speaking facts.” James replied. He tilted her chin slightly, eyes dulling. “...I will say: you deserve every ounce of happiness…especially after being torn up in the past. Quite literally…” He chuckled awkwardly. Mandisa rolled her eyes, unable to disguise her grin.
“Thank you for the reminder.” She commented. Her eyes fluttered wide open as a soft kiss was planted on her forehead.
“Not a problem, love.” James brought his hand to her cheek. “Not a problem at all.”
Mandisa held the hand closer to her cheek, and she pulled herself closer to him. His hands now rested on her hips, and the two of them were inches away from each other’s faces. Finally, after breaking the tension, Mandisa pulled herself inward to kiss James, her eyes shutting slowly. At first, James flinched, but he eased, his hands once again gliding up to the sides of her face. 
She wasn’t worried about the cold tea anymore: because she was in his warm embrace.
-🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹-
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the-dazzling-rahim · 9 months
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what kind of tea is your fav?
Hibiscus, however koshary and saiidi tea are very close seconds.
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humanengineers · 4 years
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Why does Japan work so hard? | CNBC Explains Source | YouTube | CNBC International Japan has some of the longest working hours in the world. CNBC's Uptin Saiidi travels to Tokyo to understand its corporate culture and see explore how the government is trying to make a change
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dantelionwishes · 3 years
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[mtv cribs voice] CHECK IT OUT YO--
extra info under the cut! read it esp if you want your oc to hang out in their dorm <3
MAKOTO'S ROOM:
always dark, always air-conditioned!
their lights can react to music (and change colors by the beat), stay with one color, go full rainbow, etc.
not pictured is makoto's pile of arcade prizes from their escapades
speakers are hidden around the room, literal surround sound
they are a big fan of present mic! catch their little mic trinkets/merch here and there!!
game nights are easy in their room! the wide floor can fit up to 5 students, and that's what the television screen is for too :^)
movie nights are easy as well
they have a mini fridge, and will offer you snacks
note that their snacks are actually pretty terrible. can range from cucumber slices to batteries. bring your own snacks when coming here.
d-don't ask where and how they got that arcade machine.....how the fuck honestly--
HIKARI'S ROOM:
not bright, not dark, but keeps her room dim often times with preference to warm lights
her blanket is weighted, but's she's always so warm she tends not to use it too often
library is a mix of study books and novels (she studies hard from her homeschooled life, and prefers sticking her nose in stories instead of talking to real people)
because of this, her room smells like old books :^)
is afraid of having people in her room, but will serve you a special kind of tea if you're a guest! you can choose between kosher and saiidi
her tea set technically isn't traditional for Egyptian tea (it should be in glass cups)
but someone gifted it to her and she was too happy about getting a gift, refused to give it away, and ended up using it
has a very impressive camera collection
she's a big photography fan, but you won't find her own face in any single one of her pictures. she's way too shy to show her work too, so good luck!
there's a skull on her special shelf. but don't worry! the skull is fake!! she tends to talk to it when she's alone though
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saveourskinship · 2 years
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Tea & Necromancy
Chapter Six:   Saiidi & Menkheperraseneb
Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger; Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, Cotard’s Syndrome fic.
Rating: M
Synopsis:
“I’m dead,” she said.
It seemed a simple thing. Her friends laughed.
But Draco watched her and only her. She blinked. Her friends carried on but she didn’t. Her lips didn’t twitch in response to the morbid, gallowed joke, her eyes didn’t crinkle in nightmare’d amusement.
He realised he’d transitioned from observant to staring and looked away. But it prickled at him.
Something wasn’t right with Granger.
You can read it here.
You can read from the start here.
Excerpt below:
Theo wagged a pouting finger at Draco. “Don’t give me that look you contraband fuckface, you know I am unilaterally disposed to change my mind whenever I see fit. Which is often. And drastically.”
Potter looked vaguely alarmed at that, which Draco supposed was one’s default expression if they were dating Theodore Nott.
“Unless I’m being tossed about by a storm, of course.” Theo patted his boyfriend’s leg and shifted a lock of hair to better see the lightning scar. “You know how I hate smooth sailing. However is one to achieve the windswept look otherwise? With a broom? The Morrigan defend me, I don’t have the pastoral charm for it, I simply don’t. You agree with me, don’t you Hermione?”
“You are inherently more naval for all your flotsam and jetsam,” she noted, then critiqued him with narrowed eyes as she took a seat by the Three Broomsticks lamp-leaden window. “You aren’t suited for any sort of rustic charmery at all, I would imagine. Wheat would clash so horrifically with your hair.”
“Wouldn’t it?” Theo agreed. “And wheat is so wanton. It sways, partial to any wind that comes its way. If one wishes to maintain their affinity of being golden, one should be a tad more discerning.” He sniffed with such aristocratic disdain he nearly made the salt and pepper shakers cower in subservience.
“One should,” Draco drawled.
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shruthisingh · 3 years
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Origin of Egyptian Classical Folkloric Bellydance Style.
Folkloric Dances are timeless interpretation of life
It definitely depicts the scenes and stories of a common man in those times. It portrays how he celebrated simple pleasures of life eveyday to the contrast of how dance is viewed in these modern times to be an expensive art form or a luxurious fitness routine of the elite.
Egyptian Classical Bellydance branches out to various folkloric styles which hails from Upper Egypt. One of the popular style is called Beledi which means " of the country " or country dance. Another popular one called Saiidi performed with a cane stick.
In the earlier 20th century farmers moved to the city and began dancing in small spaces. The mood of this folkloric style flirtatious, emotional, celebratory or competitive. Both men and women perform here unlike raks sharqi or bellydance where only women are aspired to be seen in this dance style. Men do have movements which are martial art type along with the cane stick to display their strength and chauvinism whereas a woman may or may not hold a stick and her moves are towards being a little sensual and soft when compared to a man's movement.
Beledi from the region of Cairo includes vocals, involve question and answer play between two instruments or between the vocals and instrument . Often the Arabic rhythms like Beledi and Saiidi are played interchangeably. The dancers often use foot tapping, hand claps and a robust body language to show the lifestyle of a farmer . Its very earthy, lively and energetic dance sequence with bounce, sways, kicks and jumps. The music instruments have been influenced by western instruments like Saxophone, Accordian teamed up with traditional Drums and Flute. The traditional costume is easily identified with Persian bandari. You can try it over harem pants or circle skirts.
This deviation for a bellydance professional and advanced learners or even for beginners comes as a refresher from drills and techniques of mastering complicated isolation, undulations for long years of practice as here there are easy - to - do steps and once in a while it rejuvenates a dancer to let go easy and bounce and sway to the lively folkloric rhythm .
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lewis98omigod · 4 years
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Digital Activism week 6
In 2019 and 2020, not only have we heard lots of tragic news among celebrities and athletes, but also especially in 2020, the most devastating issue everyone encounters is the Covid-19 pandemic which has totally disrupted our daily lives and now we all start practicing the new normality which consists of 3 elements, 1-metre distance, put on face masks and wash hand frequently after back home from outdoor. However, if we broaden out horizon in terms of global news, we probably realize that some nations are suffering not only just purely pandemic thing, but also some ongoing protests against the government. For instance, In Hong Kong the protest still persists although has it been quelled temporarily due to the fear among Hong Kongers over the upcoming Chinese Security Law which is mandated typically for Hong Kong Special Administrative Region since Hong Kongers are concerned about the high possible of the restriction of freedom of speech towards them. Likewise, in the US, lots protests are going on over the issue of police brutality, especially the incident of George Floyd who was dead due to suffocation while his neck was being knelt on by one of the police officers although the public attempted to stop this tragic but it proved futile. This tragic has sparked anger among the Black community and soon, a series of protests took place across the nation. In this topic, we will look into how digital activism works in reflecting upon the rampant issue. 
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Digital Activism towards long hour working culture among Japanese workers
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This drama entitled “ Watashi, Teiji de Kaerimasu “, which means I Will Not Work Overtime, Period! in English. It was released in 2019 and soon had drawn international attention for its criticisms of Japanese corporate life. The story plot revolves around the lead female role as an office worker, whom she decides that she will never work overtime, and regularly leaves work at the official end of the day. Since then, she has conflict with other employees, who usually stay at work until much later. Besides that, long-hour working culture has traumatized her ever since she was young when her father whose corporate life meant that he did not spend time with his family. Her bosses at the company, who see her refusal to work overtime as a lack of commitment to the company and its clients. Her situation is complicated by the arrival of an ex-boyfriend who joins the company. She gradually convinces her fellow workers to go home on time in order to save their health and relationships, but ends up breaking her original commitment, which results in her hospitalization and the demise of her own relationship with her fiancé. In overall, this drama has highlighted how long-hour working culture affects the health and family relationship of workers as they tend to have little time to spend with their family which end up suffering an inharmonious household. In some cases, we have heard news about Japanese office workers died due to fatigue and the increased divorce case in Japan is getting more common as husband never spends time with family after busying with tons of workloads. 
According to Brasor (2019),  The most common complaint from white-collar employees at Japanese companies is about the meaning of “quitting time.” The feeling is that even if a worker has finished their tasks for the day, it is considered bad form to leave the office before their colleagues or supervisors do. There are, of course, no established rules that dictate such conduct, and it can be perceived as a custom but even after three decades of debate over the question of unnecessary overtime and lost productivity in the Japanese workplace, there is still great hesitancy on the part of employees to go home “on time.”
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Furthermore, a survey conducted by Japanese government showed that around one quarter of Japanese companies require employees to work more than 80 hours of overtime a month. Sarcastically, those extra hours are often unpaid. Japanese workers on average didn’t use 10 of their paid vacation days, and 63 percent of Japanese respondents felt guilty for taking paid leave.
As mentioned earlier, long-hour working culture has caused workers died due to fatigue. Taking a real-life case as an example, an employee of Japan’s largest advertising firm, Dentsu, jumped to her death in 2015. The cause was said to have been depression caused by overwork. The case generated widespread attention and renewed calls to change the long working hours and illegal unpaid overtime highly common in Japan. The aftermath of this issue has pressurized Dentsu’s CEO to resign over the controversy and the company was fined for violating labor standards as she had been reportedly forced to work 100 hours of overtime a month. After the death, Dentsu made changes within the company, including turning off lights in the office at 10 p.m. in an effort to force employees to leave (Saiidi 2018).
In conclusion, this drama portrays the long-hour working culture in Japanese society that has been rooted ever since. As we all know that, drama is the mirror of a society. Often we agree up to a point that dramas actually are delivering a message to the viewer about current society. As soon as the drama has been released, it has drawn the attention of Japanese government about the well-being of workplace and since then, lots of debate have been carried out in the parliament with an aim of enacting a law which can protect the employee’s well-being and revise the structure of traditional companies workforce as majority of traditional companies have a mindset is that employees should be always available at work and employees should be ashamed of applying holidays. Although work-life balance in Japan has yet to be achieved, but who knows in the future?
Reference list:
Brasor, P 2019,  TBS drama misses an opportunity to shine a light on genuine workplace issues, The Japan Times, viewed 13 October 2020,
https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2019/05/18/national/media-national/tbs-drama-misses-opportunity-shine-light-genuine-workplace-issues/
>.
Saiidi, U 2018,  Japan has some of the longest working hours in the world. It’s trying to change, CNBC, viewed 13 October 2020,
https://www.cnbc.com/2018/06/01/japan-has-some-of-the-longest-working-hours-in-the-world-its-trying-to-change.html#:~:text=CNBC%20Explains-,Japan%20has%20some%20of%20the%20longest%20working%20hours%20in%20the,extra%20hours%20are%20often%20unpaid.>.
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mrayhankurnia · 3 years
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Dolarisasi: Antara Penyelamat Krisis atau Bentuk Baru Kolonialisme
Oleh: M Rayhan Kurnia Rahman
Esai ini mendiskusikan bagaimana pergeseran preferensi negara-negara menuju penggunaan dolar Amerika dari mata uang negaranya. Dalam beberapa kasus, terdapat negara-negara yang bahkan sudah menggunakan mata uang Amerika Serikat (AS) secara penuh. Artinya, terdapat proses penghapusan mata uang domestik pada negara-negara tersebut. Isu ini penting untuk dibahas mengingat pengaruh yang kuat dari mata uang dolar terutama di negara-negara berkembang. Selain itu, penulis terkadang skeptis terhadap dorongan AS terhadap negara-negara lain untuk mengadopsi mata uang negaranya. Apakah memang dolarisasi membawa manfaat berupa stabilitas ekonomi bagi negara yang mengadopsinya atau justru ini sebagai proyek kolonialisasi baru oleh AS. Argumen dalam esai ini dibangun berdasarkan skeptisisme penulis terhadap kecenderungan AS—sebagai negara maju dan berkekuatan besar—untuk memperluas pengaruhnya dalam ekonomi internasional terutama di negara-negara berkembang. Selain itu, esai ini juga akan menilai dampak dari dolarisasi bagi negara yang mengadopsinya.
 Dolarisasi merupakan proses adopsi mata uang dolar menjadi mata uang domestik negara-negara selain AS. Implementasi dari dolarisasi ini dapat berupa penggunaan dolar bersamaan dengan mata uang domestik atau adopsi penuh dolar AS sebagai nilai tukar. Salvatore, Dean, dan Willet (2003) berpendapat bahwa proses adopsi mata uang AS bisa ada karena mata uang ini sudah mendapatkan kepercayaan masyarakat internasional karena nilainya yang relatif stabil. Kita juga sering mendengar bahwa dolar AS nilainya stabil dalam kondisi tertentu, termasuk saat krisis. Dilansir dari CNBC (2020), nilai dolar AS bisa stabil karena fluktuasi yang tidak drastis, berbeda dengan yang terjadi pada lira—mata uang Turki. Selain itu, fluktuasi yang tidak mengarah pada depresiasi ini juga disebabkan oleh ekonomi AS yang relatif stabil—dibandingkan dengan negara lain—dan kesediaan orang untuk semakin berpegang kepada dolar. Kesediaan orang terhadap dolar ini adalah faktor penyebab dolar semakin dipercaya.
Argumen pertama adalah justifikasi dilakukannya dolarisasi. Dolarisasi dapat dilakukan ketika mata uang negara yang ingin melakukannya sangat lemah. Dalam artian mata uang tersebut tidak lagi mampu memiliki daya beli barang dan jasa di masyarakat. Dalam kasus ini, dolarisasi dilakukan untuk menghasilkan stabilitas harga di negara tersebut. Dolar sebagai mata uang yang stabil akan membentuk stabilitas harga di negara yang mengadopsinya, karena standar yang tinggi dan nilai yang stabil. Contoh stabilitas akibat dolarisasi pernah dirasakan oleh Kamboja. Pada tahun 1993, keseimbangan keuangan publik di Kamboja mengalami defisit hingga 100 dolar AS. Pemerintah Kamboja memilih untuk melakukan dolarisasi alih-alih mencetak lebih banyak uang. Jika uang dicetak banyak, hal ini tentu akan menyebabkan hiperinflasi yang justru lebih berbahaya bagi perekonomian Kamboja (Kang, 2005). Alasan dolarisasi dapat dijustifikasi yang kedua adalah pencegahan krisis regional. Hal ini disebabkan karena nilai tukar yang dimiliki oleh negara yang mengadopsi dolar tidak lagi memiliki standar sesuai kawasan dimana negara tersebut berada. Contohnya juga pernah terjadi pada Kamboja ketika krisis di Asia pada 1997. Berbeda dengan Indonesia, Thailand, dan Korea Selatan, Kamboja berhasil keluar dari krisis dengan dampak yang tidak signifikan. Hal ini terjadi karena dolarisasi membantu sebagai cadangan dana internasional di bawah krisis mata uang asing yang terjadi di kawasan Asia (Kang, 2005).
 Untuk membuat esai ini lebih komprehensif, penulis akan mencoba menilai dampak lain dari dolarisasi. Dolarisasi dapat membawa dampak buruk bagi perekonomian negara pengadopsi. Pertama, nilai dolar yang tinggi secara tidak langsung menaikkan standar hidup masyarakat. Hal ini pada dasarnya baik, namun tidak applicable bagi masyarakat di negara berkembang dengan pendapatan menengah ke bawah. Selain itu, perbedaan pendapatan antara masyarakat yang menerima gaji dalam dolar dan masyarakat yang menerima gaji dalam mata uang domestik semakin memperbesar ketimpangan. Contohnya terjadi juga pada Kamboja di mana saat terjadi evaluasi dolar, pendapatan masyarakat dengan dolar tetap, namun pendapatan masyarakat dengan Riel turun (Kang, 2005). Kedua, dolarisasi menyulitkan kontrol pemerintah akan moneter. Kebijakan moneter merupakan kebijakan yang mengatur jumlah uang, mata uang, dan sejenisnya. Jika suatu negara menggunakan nilai tukar lain dalam proses pertukaran, kontrol tersebut akan hilang. Misalnya tidak ada lagi otoritas bank sentral untuk menaikkan suku bunga karena kontrol nilai dimiliki oleh bank asing. Selain itu, dolarisasi menyulitkan pemerintah untuk memutuskan kebijakan luar negeri terkait ekonomi. Hal ini disebabkan oleh tidak adanya perbedaan atau selisih nilai tukar dolar dengan nilai tukar mata uang domestik. Proses ekspor impor juga dilakukan dalam mata uang dolar yang berimplikasi pada selisih nilai tukar nol. Hal ini tentu berbahaya bagi perekonomian negara karena selisih nilai tukar penting untuk mendukung ekspor dan mengurangi impor.
 Lemahnya perekonomian negara akibat dolarisasi membuat penulis berpandangan bahwa AS sedang memperkuat pengaruhnya di negara-negara lain. Jika dolarisasi sudah diimplementasikan, kontrol dan otoritas pemerintah terhadap ekonomi domestik akan semakin terlimitasi. Hal ini-lah yang penulis sebut dengan bentuk baru kolonialisasi. Dari pemaparan argumen-argumen tersebut, dapat disimpulkan memang dolarisasi bisa menyelamatkan krisis. Namun dalam skema jangka panjang, kebijakan ini justru memperkecil ranah dan peran pemerintah dalam memutuskan kebijakan ekonomi negara masing-masing. Hal ini juga membuat negara-negara berkembang tergantung nasibnya dengan dolar AS. Selain itu, harga yang dibayar untuk dolarisasi dapat dinilai lebih mahal dibandingkan manfaat yang didapatkan. Kesenjangan, intervensi kedaulatan, ketidakleluasaan pemerintah dalam menetapkan kebijakan, dan lain sebagainya justru akan membawa dampak buruk dalam jangka panjang.
 Referensi
Kang, K. (2005). Is Dollarization Good for Cambodia?. Global Economic Review, 34(2), 201-211. doi: 10.1080/12265080500117517
Salvatore, D., Dean, J. W., & Willett, T. (Eds.). (2003). The dollarization debate. Oxford University Press.
Saiidi, U. (2020). The US dollar is considered a safe bet — even in these coronavirus days. Here’s why. Retrieved 3 December 2020, from https://www.cnbc.com/2020/04/29/why-the-us-dollar-is-still-considered-such-a-safe-currency.html
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What can $30,000 get you in Shanghai?
What can $30,000 get you in Shanghai?
From a $22,000 per night hotel suite to unique dining, CNBC's Uptin Saiidi explores the luxury side of one of China's most expensive cities.
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zenobia2006 · 7 years
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Fantastically fun workshop with @mohamedsalahdance today! Thank you! #dancelife #dance #Egyptiandance #performance #canedance #tahtib #Saiidi #Toronto #music #rhythm #passion #raqssharqui #fun #culture #bellyblossfest #bellydanceblossomfestival (at Harbourfront Centre)
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brassandblue · 5 years
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@ the kirklands. preferences regarding tea? favorites, least favorites, etc???
They’ll pretty much drink anything that’s of good or better quality, honestly.
Arthur in particular likes the Egyptian saiidi and Alice likes koshary. They’ll also drink herbal teas depending on the need or their mood--they have their own tea recipes made with herbs from their garden.
My headcanon says Arthur can’t cook, but he can bake. Alice can cook but can’t bake. They’re both skilled with various types of beverage.
Don’t ask either to make scones tho.
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itsnothingbutluck · 2 years
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Tencent has shown that China has officially come in competition with USA and Japan in the video game business, although most people would be under the impression that the only major players in the video game market are the elite 3 Nintendo, Sony, Microsoft. Most people are not really aware that now Amazon, Google, Facebook seem to be wanting to get in the video game business as well. So we have American, Japanese, Chinese companies all competing for video gamers world wide. It is strange we have not seen South Korea jump into gaming with Samsung considering Asia has many gaming fans and not just Japan but as well China. This business is set to be even bigger then the movie industry with esports becoming a multi billion dollar market and tons of connection online with social media.
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humanengineers · 4 years
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Why is the dollar so powerful? | CNBC Explains Source | YouTube | CNBC International For more than seven decades, the United States dollar has been the world’s reserve currency, with a majority of international transactions using the greenback. CNBC’s Uptin Saiidi explains how it became so strong and explores whether its position could be threatened
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the-firebird69 · 2 years
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My son says you really need the support if you're in Japan and you're not me or you're not Japanese it's kind of something that relieves stress and tension you have a friend so when you can depend on and you have to bring it back so it's kind of an interesting concept it's also killer because it's like having this forced companion just thinking of making a movie it says it might be a problem
Posiden and Goddess Wife
There are several out like it but not really like what to say so I'm thinking about it because it's pretty good the idea
Thor Freya
It happens to him all the time every day for real
Hera
Is it happening and we're going to repair it today
Olympus
Or working on it the races are going and the inlets are beginning to open
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yossarian359 · 6 years
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A Reason to Keep You Around
Widowtracer as witnessed through the eye of Ana Amari as she comes to terms with her past, present, and future.
The first time I met Lena Oxton, I thought she was too sweet, like the tea she drinks so much. I found it sweet enough as it is; the bergamot takes the edge off the bitterness. However, I routinely watched Oxton adding three sugars to it.
I don’t know how she drinks it. Perhaps it is because I was brought up on Egyptian Saiidi; a tea so bitter that most drown it in cane sugar to make it palatable. I never did, I was used to the bitterness.
I remember Lena once tasted the tea I drink. Her eyes watered but, oh, she tried so hard to smile for the sake of politeness!
Too sweet… but brave. So brave and determined.
She surprised us all after the Slipstream by signing up for the agent program. Lena turned a disability into an advantage. Seeing it not as a loss but an opportunity to make the world good, vowing to help people—to protect people. Only the best people can do something like that... she reminds me of my Fareeha in so many ways. I have to admit they both make me so proud.
So... please tell me how a girl so sweet, and so determined to do good, could fall in love with a murderer ?
It was a mission in London only a few months ago. Tracer limped into the Orca out of the heavy evening rain, cradling the wounded body of a vicious killer.
She laid her down gently on the cold table, a makeshift medical bed. Lena’s voice shook as she pleaded. “Help her…please…” Tears ran down her wet cheeks, falling neatly on the cool unconscious face of the monster who took away my eye and who took away my family.
Singh, Kimiko, Mirembe… they were just her appetizers. How many families did she tear apart with ruthless bloodymurder? I’d never forgive her for what she did to them—to me. To Fareeha.
Angela examined the killer’s wounds with care. She had been shot in her gut… tri-ball, judging by the lacerations. She was bleeding heavily, covered in a cold sweat and she wouldn’t last long without medical attention.
I would have let her bleed out on that table. Jack would have told me to put a bullet in her head.
“How did this happen?” Angela asked. She was always kind and understanding, her sympathy infinite. Fareeha chose well with her. For as long as I’ve known Angela, she has always let her feelings cloud her better judgement.
“Reaper,” Lena said weakly, “Accelerator was shot up, he had me cornered,”  She took a breath and steeled herself, “She, took the bullet for me… saved my life.” Lena spoke with a soft thankfulness; admiration crept into her voice. Admiration for a murderer.
“Why?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at the killer.
“Does it matter?” Lena replied, her eyes were wide and naive. “She needs our help!”
Poor sweet girl. The world is too harsh a place for souls as sweet as hers. You’d think after what she had been through she would realise it by now. She needed to be taught a lesson.
“That woman lies and manipulates.” I stated. “Every fiber of her being is designed to kill.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Lena stood up sharply—so defensive, “After she killed Mondatta? After she tried to kill me... several times might I add.”
“She murdered her husband,” I added, voice calm, not rising to meet Lena’s, “Strangled him in his sleep.”
“Cap!” She was yelling now, “That wasn’t her! Not really. Not after what Talon did to her... But she can break through it. Her reconditioning must be fading or why the hell would she save my life? If she can break it then we can give a chance at a new life. Don’t you think she deserves it after all she’s been through?”
That was the other thing I noticed about Lena Oxton: she was so emotional. She felt so much; if there was someone else in the room hurting, Lena would hurt for both of them. Her heart went out to those who didn’t deserve it, and I had a tiny flash of suspicion that her heart went out to that creature she brought in from the rain.
Lena was fooling herself and I couldn’t let continue. You can’t second guess and   I would  never hesitate again with that monster who wears the face of Amélie Lacroix. I won’t let anyone else fall into the spider’s trap.
“Do you seriously believe that she cares about you Oxton? She will kill you the first chance she gets. We should lock her up, if not dispose of her now. We should get justice for what she’s done.”
My words were harsh, but I thought they were needed. I had to protect what little family I had left.
Lena walked into breathing distance of me with purpose, her cheeks still damp from tears, and she spoke through her teeth. “She took a bullet for me Cap, saved my life, and you want to kill her? How bloody caring of you.” I had never seen Lena Oxton speak with so much venom. It startled me.
I must’ve not been the only one shocked as Winston placed a hand gently on Lena’s shoulder.
“Lena.” Winston said in a soothing tone. She eased into the touch, calming herself and lowering her gaze.
“I… I’m sorry Cap. That was unfair… I shouldn’t have…” She trailed off, those beautiful amber eyes looking to the floor in shame.
“It’s alright my dear.” I soothed. It was impossible to stay mad at Lena Oxton for more than twenty seconds. “I may have been too harsh…” The question still remained; what do we do with the Widowmaker?
A small pained whimper left the lips of the woman who used to be Amélie Lacroix.
Lena reacted to the sound and moved to her side, lightly grasping one of her hands in a tender motion.
“Shh… it’s okay love, I’m here.” The woman gripped Lena’s hand like an anchor. When their eyes met she looked at her like she was the only person in the room; Lena returned the gesture. “Hey.” She said, her voice warm.
“Lena.” Widowmaker said. Lena. Not ‘Tracer’, not‘chérie’ (the taunt I hear her spit on the battlefield) but Lena—her name.
Lena didn’t respond with shock or surprise; instead she lifted her free hand to  stroke the murderer’s cheek with her thumb, “Hey, how’re you feeling?”
The assassin tried to speak however she found her voice too weak. Instead she responded by resting her tattooed arm softly on the back of Lena’s head. Just minutes ago, I would have never expected this kindness for a woman who used to be an enemy, not even from Lena Oxton. I felt like I was intruding on a private moment… I almost felt sad for her. Almost.
It felt too private, as if we were intruding on a personal moment. They were too close for it just to be comfort or respect. There was something more with the way she touched her… something familiar, personal… Intimate.
Puzzle pieces fell into place. All those times Tracer would disappear from missions to ‘chase’ the Widowmaker... we didn’t question her because she did her job, kept Talon’s crack sniper out of our skies. Now it appears she was chasing her in more ways than one.
They were clandestined lovers—foolish girl Oxton. She was in love. The way that pale blue creature looked back at Lena she appeared in love too. I didn’t buy it for a second. Gérard did, and he died because of it. I couldn’t see this ending well.
“Just breathe love… Shhh, it'll be alright. I’m here… We’re gonna help you.” Lena forced her gaze away from her wounded lover and pleaded, “We are gonna help her, right?” Her voice meek, daring to hope.
As I looked around, I could see the others had realised the nature of their relationship also. Poor sweet girl. Lena was being manipulated by a monster.  Angela spoke before I could voice my own thoughts on the matter.
“After all she’s been through… I think we owe her that much.” The emotion in her voice was clear. Amélie and Angela were good friends before. It was hard for her to see a friend twisted and perverted into a monster. I know; Amélie was my friend too.
But the thing on that metal slab was not Amélie Lacroix.
“I know this is hard to accept, especially when that woman wears the face of someone we once knew.” I glanced at Angela who offered a sympathetic look as I spoke,” Amélie Lacroix is dead, she died when she murdered Gérard. Whatever is left is a thing that has torn countless families apart. The person we knew is gone, what is left cannot be trusted.” My words were cold. They needed to be. Their hope was misplaced, their trust waiting to be abused.
Winston who had been mostly silent, carefully weighing up options, finally spoke, “But she is still a person nonetheless,” He looked around at us, “If we have the chance to save someone and squander it—we are no better than Talon. Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, even those who have wronged us in the past.” It was clear that last part was directed at me.
Angela moved to treat the assassin and Lena breathed a sigh of relief bending her head down to whisper something into the shell of the wounded creature’s ear. I couldn’t make out what she said.
Winton held my gaze and it was obvious she could tell I was dissatisfied with the look I shot him, but he had made his decision.
I respect Winston for both his intelligence and his qualities as a leader, but he is too soft. He was raised away from the rest of humanity, away from the harsh realities of the world.
Though Jack was harsh and world weary and Overwatch still fell apart under his leadership. Albeit, it wasn’t entirely his fault… That thought lingered for a while before I finally let it drop. I didn’t want to think about Jack, Gabriel, what ifs or anything of that nature any more than I had to. The past is prologue, what matters is the future—and that creature in Lena’s gentle arms made me anxious about it.
---
I was silent on the journey back to Gibraltar. After witnessing a remarkably tame debriefing session after her initial recovery, it was only a matter of time before found myself pacing up and down Winston’s lab. He was trying to get some work done, however I believe I had more pressing matters.
“If you keep doing that you’re going to dig a trench into the ground,” Winston liked to try diffusing people with his humor, a trick he learned from Lena probably. It irked me in that instance when it probably shouldn’t have.
“It has been only days since we captured her.” I began.
Winston interrupted. “I’d prefer to say we recovered her.”
“And you have not listened to any of my advice.”
“I have listened to your advice, I’ve just decided not to take it.”
Winston replied with a grunt.
It wasn’t often that I disagreed with Winston. He was always friendly and reasonable and in the times that I have disagreed with him in the past, he usually had an expert authority on the subject. (I learned the hard way to never do anything asides from nod profusely when he talks about quantum mechanics.)
This time I had the authority on the subject. There wasn’t any way that Winston could change my mind on the walking corpse of Lacroix. “You allow an enemy assassin to roam freely around the base.”
“She is not our enemy any longer Ana,” He grunted, pushing up his glasses and looking up from his work. He had been trying to avoid an argument, I guess he felt that it was unavoidable now, “Besides she can only go places so long as she is accompanied by—”
“—by Lena I know.” I said, finishing Winston’s sentence for him as I felt the frustration of the past days boiling over. I turned away to face the window, not wanting to let Winston see the anger on my face.  “It still amazes me how you have all just accepted her… relationship with that creature. Even giving them quarters together. You, Lucio, Hana, aren’t you at all worried about your friend?”
Winston stroked his chin. “I trust Lena. I trust her to make her own decisions. I will trust her judgement with Widowmaker.”
“But she could be manipulated, indoctrinated.” I turned around to face him. “Angela’s initial physical tests found nothing, but what if there is something under the skin? What if she is using Lena like a puppet?”
“Ana,” He sighed heavily. “There is no evidence to suggest that.”
“The fact that she is in love with a monster is evidence enough!” I shouted. Winston shot me a look that said I was being unreasonable. Even if my tone had been aggressive, I knew I wasn’t being unreasonable. He waited for me to take a few deep breaths before I continued.
“Consider this: say that you’re right, and I pray that you are. We can rehabilitate that shell of a woman and Lena gets to continue her misguided love affair. Good consequences,” I moved purposefully to meet his gaze, “But what if you’re wrong? What is the price of being wrong? What will it mean for Lena, for us, for this little family we have here? Are you willing to pay that price Winston?”
He held my gaze, I had clearly made my point. When it was clear he wasn’t going to budge, I decided to turn to make my way out.
“Ana,” He called when I was halfway out the door, “I know this will be hard for you, especially considering what happened in the past… but I do genuinely believe that this is the correct course of action. If we can help one of our greatest enemies become a force for good in the world, then that is a huge victory for what Overwatch stands for.”
I wish I could share his optimism.
“Maybe so.” What was Overwatch’s mission statement? To fight evil? To protect the innocent. Twenty years ago I might have said that it was to make the world a better place. “But I’m afraid I no longer hold that kind of hope.”Even if a part of me still yearns for it was left unsaid.
---
The next month passed slowly for me. Based on what I’d heard from others, Widowmaker seemed to be adapting without incident and I’ll admit that I had been avoiding her.
The inevitable confrontation was not something I was looking forward too. What was there to say?
How silly the thought. I once fantasised about what it’d be like to bring that woman to justice and have her answer for her crimes. Recently in London, a similar feeling came over me. Now that inclination has faded like the colour of old clothing.
I just worried. I’ve always thought of our team as a family, and I care for each member as deeply as I do for Fareeha. Every loss felt like losing a child… and I was so afraid I would lose more to that woman.
The sidelong glances I stole—seeing Lena; disarmed, relaxed, even laughing when around Widowmaker—it made me worried. The contrast alone between the two disturbed me, one so cold and emotionless and the other so free and open… How did it even work out?
Part of me desperately wanted to grab Lena and tell her to stay away from that dangerous woman. I felt as though I couldn’t say or do anything about it, watching her with Widowmaker was like watching a time bomb tick. It made me feel anxious.
I felt stuck.
Winston was kind enough to lend me Widowmaker’s recon visor to analyse. By now, I must have taken it apart and put it together fifty times. Talon’s engineering was crude but effective. I was once curious enough to put it on.
Wearing it was disorientating and painful. Talon didn’t care for such menial things as the well-being of their agents. Still, It was fascinating to look through the Widowmaker’s eyes.
Perhaps it was a sad little attempt for me to try and understand the killer. Truth be told I felt that there was no one who would understand what I was feeling.
Reinhardt was still away on his expedition in north Africa. Radio silence for months and I missed his personal touch. I missed having someone to talk to who would understand a fellow old soldier.
Fareeha and I… We never really had the chance to reconcile after my disappearance. The gap between us felt cold. I should never have let it develop, especially between a mother and daughter. Over my life, I’ve had my fair share of regrets, and I think that my decision to disappear was one of my greatest. The little good I accomplished as the Shrike hardly justified the pain I caused by leaving.
The meeting with my daughter was long overdue. I must admit I was quite timid about seeing her properly again. It had been so many years, so much has changed. Was I a stranger to her?
Seeing her there smiling at me diffused my initial worries. Still nagging at me was the fact that we didn’t have anything to talk about. It’s hard trying to get to know your daughter.
“How’s Angela been treating you?” I asked. A safe start, asking about a mutual friend. Well, more than a friend in Fareeha’s case.
My daughter let out a soft laugh, dipping her head to hide her slight blush. “She’s… She’s more than I could ever ask for ummi.” Hearing her call me that, something that I haven’t heard in so many years—it made me feel things I wasn’t ready to confront.
I deflected with a joke. “That good huh?”
“Mother!” She laughed, blushing profusely now. I smiled to myself, she was always too easy to tease.
Seeing her laugh so easily made me feel a warmth I didn’t know was needed. “It’s so good to see you happy, Fareeha…” It felt almost awkward trying to find conversation topics. Honestly it was a blessing just to be in her company. How silly it was that neither of us thought to do it sooner.
“Thank you ummi. It’s good to see you too.”
I smiled into my tea as I stirred it. A brief sadness washed over me, how I missed so much of my daughter’s life, feeling like an outsider.
“You’ve chosen well with her—a wiser choice that some others have made recently.”
Fareeha’s smile faded slightly. “What do you mean?” She asked, even though she knew who I  was talking about.
“Lena,” I said, “I worry about her and that creature.” Perhaps that was the wrong choice of word.
An uncomfortable silence descended. How stupid of me. I should not have brought this up. It was too late now.
Fareeha stiffened. “Amélie loves Lena, mother. I didn’t believe it myself until I saw the way she looks at her.”
“You call her Amélie now?” I should have stopped right there; just changed the topic and moved on. However, I couldn't contain myself. This had been boiling up like a kettle inside of me as if it were waiting to spew out.
“That is what she asked to be called.”
“You spoke to her? I asked.
“Of course,” Fareeha nearly rolled her eyes, “Lena introduced us, Angela and I had lunch with them and—”
“You had lunch with her?” My tone was accusing.
“Mother!” She was getting louder. “I am not a child anymore, you don’t get to dictate who I spend my time with. If you gave her a chance, she may surprise you. She certainly did me.”
“I don’t doubt it.” I said, sarcasm seeping into my voice.
Fareeha took a breath, “Amélie did not kill those people. Talon did. They used her like a weapon,” She leaned in, “When you punish a murderer, do you hang the weapon too?”
“No, you just lock it up or dispose of it so it can’t be used to hurt anyone else.” I didn’t know where this was coming from. This vitriolic anger… I thought I buried it. Obviously not as it came pouring out.
Fareeha narrowed her eyes at me, “That’s not only unfair, that is unjust,” She withdrew her posture, her expression became soft, “What happened is so long in the past, you have to let go, maybe not forgive, but just to try andunderstand and move on, don’t focus on digging up old wounds but instead focus on the good that can come out of this. For both your sakes.”
I stared at her in disbelief, “I can’t believe you’re defending the woman who tore our family apart.”
Something shifted in Fareeha, “Widowmaker did not tare our family apart, you did. ”
My tongue felt like it had turned into sand in my mouth. I was stunned—couldn’t move.
Fareeha was just as shocked as I, tears began to well in her eyes as her voice dipped low, too low . “You could’ve come back. Papa was so depressed after… he didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know…” She trailed off, sobbing under her breath. Fareeha never cried in public. Never.
Regret was biting at me like a spider on the back of my neck. Every sob hurt deeper than the bullet that took my eye. I opened my mouth but no sounds came out, my tongue was ash.
“Amélie didn’t have a choice mother,” Fareeha continued, “Not really… but you did. And you chose to abandon the ones you loved—the ones who loved you.”
The chair screeched against metal as she stood up, “I’m sorry mother I… I’m sorry. ” She left quickly, footsteps disappearing down the corridor.
I felt glued to my chair, all of Fareeha’s words washing over me.
Hours seemed to pass, thoughts and words were a mess in my head, morphing and perverting into others.
My fault. All of it. The heartache, the feelings of useless—being a ghost, a Shrike. Fareeha was right, I had a choice, and I chose to walk away from everything I loved because I was a coward.
I thought I had failed them before. When I became a ghost however, that is when I really failed them—when I became something that couldn’t protect anyone. Overwatch crumbled when I did, maybe I would've kept Jack and Gabriel together, or at least stopped them from destroying each other—and our family.
My head was spinning as I stood up. Not knowing what to do I tried to make my way to my quarters. My hand was trembling as I lifted it to open the door.
I took a few deep breaths just to gather my bearings and tentatively pushed the button to open the door.
As it slid open, I found myself staring into sharp, beautiful golden eyes. Widowmaker was on the other side.
Anger came washing over me and I looked up at her in challenge. She took a step backwards to let me pass, her face still neutral as I walked past her without glancing.
Something inside me told me that I should keep walking, leave before I make a scene or I say something regrettable. After what I had just been through… I wanted to hurt someone.
I turned as I was halfway down the corridor, “Gérard was a fool to love you.”
Widowmaker sighed as she looked up—clearly unimpressed. Her face was cool and neutral, her voice emulated her expression, “So you have said.”
“And so is Lena.” I said.
She froze, her lips pursed, an emotional response. I pressed on, pushed harder, “You don’t deserve her.”
Widowmaker stood there, her eyes wavered as my words sunk in. I had hit the mark, I allowed myself a sick victory grin.
Her lips opened to say something, I thought she would reply back, shoot a cutting remark. She closed them.
Instead her face retreated to her natural coldness. The uncertainty that was there moments before vanished, “Anything else?” she said, no emotion in her voice.
I didn’t reply.
Widowmaker clearly didn’t see any more point in this confrontation and left, walking through the door.
I returned to my empty quarters and lay on my bed, hollowness spreading through my gut as I stared at the blank ceiling.
---
A few days later, I had a stupid idea. Days of mulling around and letting things well put me in a mood where ideas as stupid as this one seemed like sane ones.
Lena was taking Widowmaker across the border to Spain for a bit of R&R. Apparently they wanted to get away from prying eyes. Who can blame them, considering the nature of their relationship.
Something in the back of my head was nagging me to trail them. To observe.
It would be amoral, a violation of their privacy. I would be a hypocrite but then again I am already.
Part of me had to do it—just to know if they were truly in love. To know whether Widowmaker had indeed changedand was capable of feeling.
Or if to know it was all a ruse. If she was a threat, if Lena was in danger.
For some reason Fareeha’s words rang in my ears, ‘Give her a chance, she may surprise you’. I hoped she would—I really did. Things would be nicer that way.
I stared at Widowmaker’s recon visor sitting on my desk. While I always protected others, she assassinated them.
In my mind, I was doing this to make sure she wasn’t a threat and to make sure Lena was safe. It still felt odd, stalking targets seemed like something Widowmaker would do.
Perhaps she and I really weren't too different. Packing her recon visor into my bag was reminiscent of the same actions I practiced and perfected as Shrike. There was even a resemblance in the masks.
After fixing her grappling hook to my arm, I slung my Kinamura over my shoulder. Leaving my rifle behind felt like leaving behind a limb so I decided against it.
As I moved to leave, I got distracted by a packet of 8.6 millimeter rounds. I don’t know why I still kept those, haven’t used a hard bullet in years.
My move to sleep darts and nano syringes was my attempt to let go of the past, to do away with anger and violence and focus on helping people.
It made me wonder why I kept a whole box of lethal bullets near my bedside shelf. Perhaps I haven’t left my past behind as much as I wanted to, maybe I never really did.
I took one just to be safe and to satisfy the tingling sensation in the back of my head. I tucked it delicately away in my coat pocket; if things went sour, one bullet would be all I need.
They took a boat across the bay of Gibraltar to Algeciras, I searched for the destination of the boat and took a bus across the border to the jetty they were landing on. It wasn’t too hard to find them again, Widowmaker’s unnatural blue skin does cause them to stand out. Though she put an attempt to blend in, wearing a purple tinted panama hat accompanied by sunglasses and a matching casual halter dress that Lena must have appreciated.
Lena led her around the city as they acted like tourists for a day.
I truly felt my age seeing them holding hands in the sun. Young love, I scoffed. However, I found myself smiling.
They were quite tame and domestic, Widowmaker’s subdued placid persona complimented Lena’s excitable one. For the first time, I could see how they’d work.
Fareeha was right, they did look at each other like the world was in their eyes.
I have to admit that I’d never thought a smile would look welcome on Widowmaker’s face, despite how subtle it was. She was surprisingly passive, allowing Lena to lead her around, but her affection was genuine.
My fears felt silly now. Perhaps I should have given her a chance.
Figured I might as well try and enjoy myself for the rest of the afternoon and see the sights. Lena had a pretty good eye for what was exciting and beautiful.
After a nice dinner they retreated back to their hotel. I thought about leaving them there as I felt I had seen enough and that any more would be intruding but I noticed through my enhanced eye that Widowmaker was looking uncomfortable, her face contorted. She was holding Lena’s arm tightly as she crossed the road; her knuckles almost white.
Something must have happened in the restaurant that I didn’t see. Something not too good from Lena’s worried expression.
Against my better judgement I followed them back to the hotel and climbed up to the adjacent building, putting on her recon visor. The infrared vision buzzed on and I managed to spot through the walls two familiar silhouettes entering a room on the top floor.
As soon as they entered their room Lena embraced Widowmaker with a tight hug. She weakly hugged back. Obviously something was wrong, I could tell from her body language alone.
They decided to call it an early night.
After they washed they fell into bed together, lying in each other’s arms. I stayed on that roof for hours. Despite the fact the recon visor was giving me a headache, I couldn’t bring myself to look away from the two orange silhouettes lying lovingly together. In a way it was soothing and comforting. I also felt in my gut that I needed to be there for some reason. Something was going to happen.
It was nearly midnight when I saw movement again, Widowmaker was fidgeting slightly in her sleep. She wasn’t awake, must have been a nightmare. I doubted that nightmare’s were strangers to this woman, especially now since I’ve witnessed her with Lena.
Her movement picked up, something was wrong. This wasn’t an ordinary nightmare.
She must have been screaming as Lena shot up in the bed beside her, kind arms rushing to her side.
As soon as contact was made that Widowmaker’s body contorted. In an instant she turned around and grabbed Lena’s fragile neck with both hands, strangling her.
Sleeper agent. I couldn’t react fast enough. All my fears came flooding back. This is how she killed Gérard. This is how she will kill Lena. Even after what I’ve seen today? The love in her eyes.
No. It had to be against her will. My heart stung, even so I couldn’t let her take another life.
I reached into my pocket and slid the .338 round into my rifle. A frustrated grunt left my throat as I didn’t have a clear shot, there was concrete in the way.
I unsheathed that poor monster’s grapple and fired it onto their balcony, hoisting myself up.
Their curtains were closed, but I could find a shot regardless, thanks to the visor. My rifle shook in my hands but I couldn’t hesitate this time. Not again. Not ever again.
“LENA! ” Widowmaker screamed. She bolted up and moved away from her love, withdrawing completely and looking at her hands like they were vile .
My finger hovered over the trigger. My mind was was screaming at me to pull it and put a bullet in her skull. End it now.
Something inside me told me to resist it and do the exact thing I told myself I’d never do: hesitate. That voice told me I had to be sure.
I had to be sure that I wasn’t going to tear another family apart.
Muffled sobs came through the window, “Lena I…”
Widowmaker was crying. I thought it wasn’t possible—Talon sealed her tear ducts.
Lena moved towards her, Widowmaker moved back, “Stay away from me.” Emotions were dripping from her voice. Lena froze, she didn’t want to startle her.
“Why?” She asked, her voice soft and sincere.
“I hurt you.” Widowmaker—no, Amélie whimpered.
“That wasn’t you was it love?” Lena said.
Amélie withdrew into herself,her arms wrapping around her knees in a fetal position . “I should leave,” She said suddenly, her voice retreating inside herself, “I don’t want to hurt you Lena, never again. I couldn’t live with myself if…” She trailed off.
If she killed her. She couldn’t live with herself if she killed her like she did Gérard. To be afraid that you’d lose control and hurt the ones you love most… poor girl.
I lowered my gun. I couldn’t possibly shoot her, not after hearing this.
“That’s outta the question,” Lena said simply. “You’re stuck with me frenchie.” Lightness crept into her voice, I could imagine a small smile gracing Lena’s face.
I saw her take a tentative step forward, when Amélie didn’t move back she gently stooped down and brought a hand to her side, testing the waters with a touch. Amélie leaned into it tentatively.
“Sometimes we hurt the ones we care about,” Lena started, serious now, “But they’ll stick with us no matter what. That’s love innit?”
“Mon coeur,” Amélie relaxed into Lena’s embrace, however her voice was still uncertain. “I don’t deserve you.”
My heart dropped at the sound of my words being echoed through her mouth. If I knew how much they would affect her… how foolish I was.
Lena didn’t leave her uncertain for long, “You once said that I made you not only feel, but feel happiness. Everyone deserves that, no matter what.” She punctuated her sentence with a kiss.
Amélie spoke as the kiss broke, “You stuck with me, even when I was a shell of a woman. And after all I’ve done to hurt you… Why? Why did you stay?”
“Because I love you, spider,” She chirped, “And nothin’s gonna change that!
“You love me…” She said, as if to reassure herself, tasting the words on her mouth, “You love me ma chérie... She—Ana—called you foolish for loving me.”
I did call her that. Only now I realise how wrong I was.
Lena must have smiled, “You always said that I was a foolish girl.” She imitated her silky french accent.
Amélie laughed and it was rich and joyous. Lena’s tone dipped again, “Ana doesn’t know you like I do. She doesn’t know how you risked your life for me. How you danced on the edge of incredible pain and suffering just so you could have a chance to feel, a chance to change and to break free from you chains; to become a better person,” She must have kissed her again, “She doesn’t see what I see in you love.”
Lena held her like that, gently rocking their bodies like a crib.
There was a soft sound. A small melody—a children’s song, like the lullabies I used to sing to Fareeha.
It came from Lena’s lips, but the lyrics were in french. Amélie must have taught her.
It was soft and sweet, barely a whisper. I couldn’t make out much of the lyrics—it had been a while since I picked up small trickles of the language from Gérard. I remember one part of it though.
...chante, toi qui as le cœur gai.
Tu as le cœur à rire—moi je l’ai à pleurer...
It moved me, her voice was sobering.
I took off Widowmaker’s recon visor and turned around to leave. I had seen enough to put my mind at ease: they were true , she was genuine. Fareeha was right again, Amélie did surprise me in all the right ways.
The uneasy feeling in my gut however didn’t fade. It was instead replaced by a soft loathing . How half-witted I had been… how judgmental.
I had invaded their privacy, spied on an incredibly personal and intimate moment. And Lena’s words kept going around in my head.
I mulled over Lena’s words. The ones we love stick with us no matter what. That’s love innit?
She said that as if it were the simplest thing in the world and I envied her for it.
It should have been the simplest thing, and I had failed to stick with those I loved… I failed not just Fareeha and Sam, but Jack and Gabriel too. I failed Overwatch. I failed my family.
I took the boat back the next day ahead of them, they deserved a few more days of vacation. The shame was unbearable; I couldn’t believe I was so close to destroying the tiny infant family they had.
When I was back in my room again, I felt stuck. Desperately I wanted to reach out to Fareeha to apologise and tell her what I learnt, how I feel but mind wouldn’t let me.
Thankfully though, a mutual friend of ours gave me a kick in the right direction.
“Would you please stop moping around your room, Ana?” Angela stood in the doorframe. She had just extended an invitation for dinner.
“Thank you Angela for the offer… However, I don’t think Fareeha wants to see me after my poor behaviour.”
“Reeha is the one who offered,” Angela added, “She feels terrible about it, she can’t stop talking about how much she regrets what she said to you and how much she wants to apologise.”
“She wants to apologise to me? I don’t deserve it… I don’t deserve her,” I don’t think I really believed what I was saying. It was most likely the regret talking. “I just wish I had been there when…”
“Dummkopf!” Angela seemed to have lost her patience with my sulking, “Of course you deserve her! Now and come join your family for dinner, doctor’s orders.”
My family.
Warmth flooded back into my limbs as I stood up and strode across the room to give Angela a big motherly hug.
“My family.” I said, it didn’t feel real. “Thank you Angela.”
I smiled into her hair and swore to myself that I will never repeat the mistakes of the past. I truly have a family.
---
The dinner was lovely, truly more than I could ever ask for. I felt at home, a feeling that had escaped me for years.
One more thing still lingered though; Widowmaker, Amélie, I owed her an apology.
With our past so damaged as it is, maybe we could never be friends, but perhaps we needn't be enemies.
Their vacation lasted another week before they returned. I lingered cautiously outside the door to their room, I felt my nerves acting up. Lena was out for her morning run so I knew Amélie was in there alone.
The apology I had rehearsed felt dry, felt insincere.
I always saw myself and Widowmaker as polar opposites, she was everything I was not: I didn’t purposefully wound enemies to draw their friends out of cover, she wouldn’t hesitate if it brought her closer to her target. I considered myself a friendly person with a sense of humor, she was stone cold to the bone. I watched over and protected my team, she stalked and hunted her prey.
The last few weeks made me realise that we may have not been so different after all. My actions alone proved that sometimes I could be a no better monster than Widowmaker was.
However the woman on the other side of that door was not Widowmaker, or at least she didn’t want to be her anymore.
Somewhat like how I’m not the same person as I was before, and I despise the thought of regressing back into that character. Amélie must have the same fears, especially after what happened with Lena.
I tapped by knuckles on the door to knock, and patiently waited for her to come out.
The door slid open and golden eyes met my own. “Hello,” I said, “Can I come in?”
Amélie looked startled to see me. I couldn’t blame her considering what I said in our last meeting.
Nothing else came to my mind so I offered her a cautious smile, it seemed to disarm her enough to let me in.
Their room was the same shape and dimensions as any other in the watch-point. Lena however personalised it with posters and pictures of her interests. I think I recognised a couple old English rock bands from my time. There wasn’t much personalisation from Amélie, suppose one must find one’s own person before attempting to personalise a space.
“Lena is taking a jog,” She must have caught me gawking, “She will be back later.” Come back later, were her unspoken words. So she can deal with you and not I. Her arms were folded, guarded against me. I didn’t feel angry, just sad that things were this way.
“Actually I wanted to talk to you, Amélie.” Using her name must have caught her off guard as she slowly dropped her arms from her chest.
She was silent, so I continued, “I want to apologise. The things I said—a single apology could never be enough,” Something welled up in my throat, I had trouble keeping my voice steady, “When I said those horrible things to you, I was mad, furious, stuck in the past… I wanted to hurt someone.”
I paused to gauge Amélie’s reaction. Her face was blank but her eyes were attentive. It must be uncomfortable for her to express herself emotionally, especially in front of me.
“But I realised that all that I thought you were: unloving, cold, uncaring, ruthless… they all could be said of me,” I felt tears pricking in my eye, my breath wavered as I let them fall. “I abandoned my girl, my daughter, my Fareeha. I abandoned her when she needed me the most. Everything I said to you—about how you didn’t deserve Gérard , how you don’t deserve Lena , stupid stupid things to say—I said them because I realised I didn’t deserve Fareeha, I didn’t deserve to have a family, and I hated how you seemed to leave your old self behind so easily and start again. I jealous, and so I said those putrid things because I wanted someone to hurt the way I was hurting.”
My head felt dizzy so I gently collapsed onto a chair and waited until I stopped crying. “Lena told me once,” Told you once, “That the ones who love you will stick by through thick and thin. I failed that with my daughter and she gave me a second chance.” I looked up at her and met her lovely golden eyes. “I felt unworthy, like I didn’t deserve it. I even briefly considered leaving again because of it, determined never to hurt her again.” I stood up. “I realise how stupid those thoughts were, and how foolish I was to say that you don’t deserve Lena when you, Amélie, clearly love her with all your heart.”
Amélie was silent as she processed my words, I waited patiently. Eventually she pursed her lips ever so gently to talk.
“One of my biggest fears is that I will lose control.” Despite seeing her as Amélie instead of Widowmaker for the past week, the vulnerability in her admission surprised me. She continued, “In such a short space of time I have begun to feel things I could not comprehend.” She took her time searching for the words.
“Sometimes these new feelings overwhelm me, and I am so afraid that I could lose control and hurt the ones that matter. What you said, about how I didn’t deserve Lena, it hurt. ” Her eyes were wet. “It hurt and I didn’t know what to do. When I was with Talon, I would go to get these feelings wiped, it was easier that way. But now that I want to feel… I was not prepared for things to hurt so much.”
Though the lines on her face were smooth and subdued, I could tell that she was letting a lot of emotion out. I felt privileged to witness it, that she’d be willing to trust me enough to show me, even after all that’s happened.
“Lena made me realise that despite what I have done in the past—even if I was not fully in control—I shouldn’t be ashamed to be loved, or to be happy.” A small smile graced her lips. “Perhaps you and I aren’t so different, Ana Amari.”
I chuckled and smiled back. “We are both loved, even if we feel like we don’t deserve it.”
“Oui, we are.”
Nothing more felt like it needed to be said. So I thanked her for her openness and offered her one last apology. I think she realised like I did that we may never truly be friends, but at least we were not enemies anymore.
The smile did not leave my face as I exited the room.
I think it was right there when I finally realised that we all deserve a family, no matter what.
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