#hong kong business address | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lavenderbexlatte · 8 months

Text

day 5: mile-high club

nct/wayv 1.9k words female reader insert Reader x Wong Kunhang (Hendery) NSFW

🖤 warnings: idol au, public sex, penetrative sex (f receiving), they fuck in an airplane okay idk what you expected🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

You have never wished for the gift of being clueless more than you're wishing for it in this moment.

Because, of course, you know too much. You're observant by nature, and you like that trait most of the time. It's helpful. It keeps things interesting.

It also means that you know full well that the person in the seat next to you on this half-full flight from Hong Kong to Seoul is famous.

You don't know who he is, exactly. It's not that serious. But you can tell just by looking at him that he's someone. Famous people have this air, especially these young sheltered ones. Not cocky, like rich American popstars. Nervous, as if they're about to be scolded at any time. This one looks like that.

He's handsome, though. From the peeks you've been able to sneak as the flight attendant handed you a water over him, anyway. He's got a hat on, and a mask, but you can see the telltale flawless skin and terrified eyes of a young, company-stranglehold celebrity.

There's a seat between you. He's in the aisle, you the window. It's still too close for comfort. You wish you were the kind of person who didn't notice things.

Because now, all you can think about is who he might be. What he might look like, under the careful disguise. And, kind of evilly, how many girls in how many countries would kill for the opportunity you have, here, just to be next to him.

It's only a three-hour flight.

So when the flight attendant returns with snacks - the only service on this short flight - you make the most of your chance to break the ice.

You drop your pretzels on him.

The bag is closed, of course. You're not a monster who's about to waste a snack for attention. But it falls into his lap, and he barks out a startled laugh.

"Sorry," you say, flashing him your best smile.

Like you'd expected, he jumps at being addressed. His eyes dart to you.

It's as if he thinks any person who looks at him is going to whip out a camera and start making calls. So-and-so from such-and-such group is here! Look!

"Can...I have my pretzels?" you ask gently.

"Oh!" He startles all over again, snatching up the little packet and holding it in your general direction.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Words. That's progress.

"D'you fly this route a lot?" you ask.

He actually looks at you this time. "...A couple times a year, maybe?"

You nod. "This was my first trip to Hong Kong."

"For what?"

Ice, broken.

"Work," you say.

Your business trip was three days and two nights, and you've been bored out of your mind since you left your hotel room the first morning. Conferences are inherently boring. This is the most fun you've had in weeks, as you watch this anonymous celebrity's curious eyes as you give a vague summary of your long weekend abroad.

"Me, too," he says, when you've finished.

You grin. "You?"

"Yeah."

"You work?"

The two of you obviously aren't speaking his first language right now, but he catches your joke easily. "Do I look like I don't work?"

"You look..." you hesitate, and he notices.

He notices, and he wilts. As if he's expecting you to realize, to recognize. To ruin this moment of human to human.

"I-"

"Good," you interrupt, before he can shut down on you completely. "Too good. Like a nepo baby."

"Nepo baby." He turns the phrase over on his tongue.

"Nepotism. Personality hire. Friend of a friend? Daddy's money, maybe?" you tease.

He smiles. His mask is still on, but you can tell by the crinkling lines near his eyes.

"All talent."

It's a hint, a little hint about who he really is. You just let it lie.

You grin back, but you sit more firmly in your seat, straightening up from the way you'd been leaning toward him to talk. You've done your searching, now you can give him some space.

That lasts for about one episode of television on the cramped little seatback screen.

After that one episode, your handsome seatmate gets up to use the restroom, and he leaves his phone on the empty middle seat.

You don't think it's on purpose, but the phone is unlocked. Open, plain as day, messaging up all queued up and the most recent texts plainly visible.

You're not in the business of snooping, usually, but come on. You're only human. And the most recent message, one from your seatmate sent to a contact in a language that you can't read, says something in another language that you certainly can read.

Well, some of it. The word "pretty" stands out pretty starkly. The blushing emoji doesn't hurt.

So he thinks you're pretty.

When he comes back, you've got another episode playing, innocent as can be.

He sees the open phone, still just laying there, showing everything, and he grabs it so fast that he nearly drops it.

You let him sit with the question that he so obviously wants to ask for just a moment, or two. You can see his uncertain gaze, trying to wager if it's worth embarrassing himself.

You pull your earphone out on the near side, and you meet his eye. "I think you're pretty, too."

The earbud goes back in, as he faceplants into his palms.

There's only two hours of the flight left, now.

You can't even finish the episode. You're too curious.

"So, it's mutual," you say lightly.

"I guess so," he replies.

His voice is small, strangled with self-consciousness but also something else. You figure it out when you see him eyeing the row ahead. He must be on this flight with other people. People who wouldn't be too pleased to see him doing...anything, really. Company people, maybe, work people.

Well, you don't really want to get him in trouble. But he is very pretty.

"If you..." You're trying to word your question carefully. "If you could do something about that, would you?"

"Do something?"

"I think you're pretty. It's mutual. In some situations, people would do something about that."

You don't know why you're doing this. He's obviously nervous, and he's obviously famous. You also think he's probably out of your league, under that mask.

"I can't really do things like that," he says.

"Have you ever tried?"

The airplane cabin is only half full, maybe less, but like any flight, it's dark. Simulated nighttime, even for a short trip. Easier if the passengers sleep through the whole thing.

You stand up. Everyone in the rows around you - maybe six people, including the tired-looking middle-aged guy in the row ahead that your seatmate had been eyeing, and the two young men beside him - are asleep, with eyemasks and headphones. The works.

"You can come if you want."

He looks confused, until you head toward the restrooms at the center of the plane. You make sure he's watching which one you choose, and of course, he is. You lock yourself into the little booth, barely enough room for one person, and wait. You wash your hands, for good measure.

There's no reason why he would come. If the flight attendants catch you, if that guy he's with sees, the consequences could be-

But then there's a tentative little knock. Barely loud enough to hear, over the normal noise of the plane.

When you unlock the door, he pressed himself inside so quickly that you stumble against the rounded wall. He's got the mask pulled nearly all the way up to the brim of his hat, face completely hidden except for two very anxious eyes.

"You didn't have to-"

"I wanted to." He locks the door, leaning against it. "One crazy thing. Just once."

"Careful. If you like it, you'll have to do more," you say somberly.

He laughs softly, just a sharp breath. "Don't care."

Under the mask, he has a long, handsome, masculine face, classic like a movie star. Under the hat, he has long glossy black hair that practically touches his shoulders, cut in lovely rounded waves.

Under his shirt (though you don't take it off, for time and convenience), a thin, wiry physique that makes you think he's probably a dancer, not a model or actor.

Under his joggers, a pair of well-worn black boxer briefs that do not a single thing to hide his half-hardness, his length and girth that both have you wondering how you're going to walk out of here like nothing happened.

Under all of your clothes, it's just you, but the way he's watching as you strip the layers away makes you feel like you must not be half bad.

"Is this illegal?" you wonder, as you settle back against the wall with your panties hanging off one leg.

"Probably," he says. "Do you wanna stop?"

"No."

That's all he needs to hear, apparently, because he's got his length freed and your leg hitched around his hip lightning-fast.

"What can I...what's your name?" he asks, as the hot, broad head of him nudges up against you.

You're honest. You tell him your first name.

He smiles, showing off very straight, slightly overlarge teeth. "Call me Hendery."

It sounds like a fake name, because nobody's fucking name is Hendery, but now isn't the time.

Hendery pushes in, and you sigh, pitching forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck to muffle any other noises, and to avoid looking at his gorgeous face.

Eight hours ago you were having cheap coffee in a stupid boardroom with Ms. Li from the Hong Kong branch, and now you're having your insides rearranged in an airplane lavatory.

It's extremely unfair that this man is handsome, well-endowed, and somehow also talented, in this, regard, as he keeps a bruising pace while avoiding any kind of telltale rattling of the folding lavatory door, keeping you close but also letting you tip your head back again, expose your throat, stifle your noises into the meat of your arm.

"Wish you didn't have to be quiet," he says.

You huff out a laugh. "Unless you want paparazzi waiting for us, I gotta-"

"Paparazzi?" he grins. "What would they want?"

"You tell me."

He doesn't tell you, but he does grip you harder by the hip, use the leverage of this position to pull you in time with his motions, force you down harder, faster...

Maybe it's the adrenaline, or the risk, or the fear, or maybe this guy really is some kind of supernatural force, because your peak is looming. Your head is buzzing, your veins thrumming...

Hendery is gonna make you cum, like this.

You tell him, and he laughs. You can feel it reverbing in his thin chest. He trails his lips over your cheek, down to your throat.

Playfully, he bites.

Your world goes white.

-----

It's strange, to be back home so soon. Familiar soil, Incheon Airport arrivals, getting yourself a snack.

The convenience store is mostly empty, due to the late hour and the odd time of year. That's just fine, though, because it means that no one is around when you scream.

You don't mean to, of course. It's not even a whole scream, just a startled yelp. And you thank your lucky stars that the bottle in your hand doesn't pop when you drop it on the floor. The mess would just be the icing on this cringe cake.

It's a birthday message on the electronic screens at the mouth of the store. The kind of things that music and drama fans buy out for their idols, whitewashed photographs and cheesy well-wishes.

Happy Birthday to our prince, it reads.

His name really is Hendery.

Hm. Well.

You take your snacks, and head to checkout.

He looks better than that in person.

#kinktober 2023 #kpop kinktober #wayv fanfic #nct fanfic #hendery fanfic #nct hendery fanfic #wayv hendery fanfic #nct hendery smut #wayv hendery smut #wong kunhang fanfic #nct smut #wayv smut

44 notes · View notes

gacha-incels · 2 months

Note

Do you think that there is a possibility of Hypergryph splitting from Yostar for global publishing of Arknights and moving it to Gryphline instead? The traditional Chinese server got moved from Long Chen to Gryphline recently, and the new ambience synesthesia concert merch is on the Gryphline store rather than yostar’s. It may just be wishful thinking as yostar and hypergryph both own large shares of each other, but if there is a planned split from yostar would it potentially be a reason why Hypergryph hasn’t made a statement condemning Yostar Korea’s actions? Is there any precedent for publisher changes for a sort of legal clause preventing them from hurting each others’ image prior to the split being announced?

Gryphline is situated in Singapore, having what I guess you could call a “proxy” company for global business in Singapore is something a lot of companies in China have done for a while, increasingly within the past couple of years, for a multitude of reasons. Last time I checked Mihoyo had “Cognosphere” in Singapore, and when you buy gachabux in that game on servers outside China I believe your bill is from Cognosphere. The slave labor fast fashion site Shein has been operating under the Singapore-registered “Roadget Business” which some have speculated makes it easier to list in the USA. Yostar has HQ in Hong Kong which used to be the proxy location but according to this FT article-“Traditionally, Hong Kong was the choice for many such companies, said Kia Meng Loh, a senior partner at Dentons Rodyk. But with Beijing “flexing its muscles” in the semi-autonomous rival finance hub, Singapore is the obvious next choice, he said.” Hypergryph has multiple games coming out in the near future, I believe a regular (non-gacha) 3D anime mobile game and a 3D Arknights spinoff that will have a weapon gacha, and I think another game that’s TBD? They could be rearranging their internal structure due to this expansion if they’ve switched around their Chinese server already, but I’m unsure if this means they will completely split with Yostar who I believe publishes the US, Japanese and Korean servers.

Admittedly I can’t say I’m super well versed with this type of business and therefore it’s harder to really predict what they will do in the future, but I’ve been watching the situation since AK KR posted that notice to see what happens. I don’t have anything against the game itself, if it comes out that somehow their hands are completely tied in the situation or something I’ll post about that as well but I’m not holding my breath. In terms of my read on the situation, I think a huge message has ready been sent to the fans as to whom the company deems most profitable to listen to, regardless of any future handwringing over the situation. I would think between a woman posting extremely basic feminist thoughts on her personal twitter (equal pay etc) and enjoying the woman’s day google doodle years ago, and the Arknights KR/Yostar employee liking extremely violent fanart on the official twitter account and hanging out on extremist, misogynistic chat boards, that the employee would be seen as more of a problem and should have been the one disciplined. In reality, not only was the woman punished by having her work deleted but the official KR account posted that diatribe calling basic feminism a “dividing force” or whatever. This action and the following statement are absolutely not neutral, especially during a time a which violent misogyny has been increasingly ripping through South Korea as a whole but also gacha games specifically. In terms of PR I do think this is something Hypergryph could address, if HG doesn’t want to rock the boat with Yostar so to speak because of some upcoming split, it seems Yostar has already rocked the boat quite a bit with this action to begin with…

in terms of a main developer punishing the publisher, one example I can think of is Fate/Grand Order’s DelightWorks (after the sakura wars fuckup FGO is developed by “Lasengle” now, but when this happened it was DW) changing an in-game reward that FGO’s Korean publisher Netmarble gave out. In terms of them splitting as well, I’m still looking into it 👍 If anyone knows anything else feel free to reply or send me stuff and I’ll post it, sometimes I feel if I wait too long to reply to messages it comes across as rude lol so I’m not getting lost in like thesis tier research

#Arknights #yostar #hypergryph #feminist ideological verification

10 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 2 months

Text

One of the world’s most wanted men, a notorious narco kingpin whose gang is implicated in multiple murders, has left a trail of Google reviews providing valuable new insights into his movements and whereabouts over the past five years.

Christopher Kinahan Sr is the head of the notorious Kinahan Organised Crime Group, which originated in Ireland and is otherwise known as the Kinahan Cartel. Irish police believe the gang has amassed profits of over $1 billion through the trade of illegal narcotics, arms trafficking and money laundering over the years.

The US Government is currently offering a collective $15 million bounty for information leading to the financial disruption or arrest of Kinahan and his two sons (Daniel and Christopher Junior). All three are reported to be based in Dubai, which has so far refrained from extraditing the wanted trio.

Multiple media reports have suggested that Kinahan Sr has sought to reinvent himself in recent years, using his first and middle names “Christopher Vincent” given the notoriety now attached to the Kinahan name.

Surprisingly, he has left behind a significant digital footprint linked to this identity which has made it possible to gain valuable new insights into his activities and movements.

Kinahan Sr’s LinkedIn account used the Christopher Vincent alias, something that was first identified by Ireland’s Sunday World newspaper in 2022. Now, it appears the owner of an identically named profile has been freely posting his thoughts via Google reviews since 2019. The account boasts of international trips to the likes of Spain, Hungary, Turkey, The Netherlands, Hong Kong, Egypt, Zimbabwe and South Africa. Perhaps less surprisingly, the account has left reviews for a number of establishments in Dubai near to where Kinahan Sr resides.

Some reviews are short and mundane, such as a comment left for a restaurant in Istanbul in August 2022: “The restaurant is chic and plush, the service was good but not outstanding.” Others, however, reveal interesting clues about his apparent activities in recent years. Some comments detail attending “business networking” conferences in Zimbabwe and of watching a sunset with colleagues in South Africa as they “discussed some business”. Another states Kinahan Sr is a “Platinum Ambassador” on an international hotel group’s reward program.

No reviews for locations outside of the UAE have been posted since the US wanted notice was announced in April, 2022.

Bellingcat, working with The Sunday Times, was able to confirm the profile was Kinahan Sr’s given an email address associated with the account belonged to him and was connected to a physical address detailed in US sanctions documents. His reflection also appears in windows or mirrors in several of the images posted to the profile.

7 notes · View notes

talesofsorrowandofruin · 6 months

Text

Seven Snippets, Seven People Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @autumnalwalker! :D

Here are seven excerpts from The Case-Files of Seo Yo-han:

His plan to spend at least an hour out on the decks received a sudden check when he turned a corner and found the hallway blocked. Four people were gathered outside a cabin door: a middle-aged woman, a young woman, a man who could be anything from thirty to fifty, and a steward. In his own words Yo-han was interested in learning about other people. In his half-brothers' words — not to mention the words of all the criminals he'd caught over the last twenty years — he was a busybody fundamentally incapable of keeping his nose out of other people's business. Either way, he stopped at once to see what was happening. The middle-aged woman was the main actor in the unfolding drama. A casual passer-by would have assumed she was a British noblewoman — a countess at the very least, to judge by her behaviour. Yo-han had always had a gift for languages and had trained himself to have a decent grasp of accents in foreign languages. He also had studied enough people of all races and from all walks of life to pick up on subtleties of body language and expression. He knew at once that this was no noblewoman. She was as common as common could be, and she knew it. She was afraid everyone else knew it too. That was why she wore five pearl necklaces. That was why her clothes were the very latest fashion, even though they didn't suit her at all. That was why she acted like she owned the ship. That was why she put on an upper-class accent. Yo-han had never seen this woman before, but he had seen a thousand copies of her. His eyes moved to the young woman. The first word that came to mind was "sharp". Everything about her was sharp: her jaw, her nose, the shape of her face, the look in her eyes. She didn't say a word. Her face was very pale and there was a wild, hunted sort of look in her eyes. Her expression was blank. Her hair was bound up in a severe bun better suited to a much older woman. Yo-han looked at her thoughtfully. He'd seen people very like this woman before. People who had been pushed to the very limits of their endurance. What would happen if she snapped? The man looked about as happy as a dental patient undergoing a root canal. His clothes were respectable but certainly not new. Yo-han spotted the ink stains on his fingers and immediately knew he was a secretary. He spared a moment to pity anyone who had to work for the middle-aged woman. Finally there was the hapless steward, who had been unable to get a word in edgewise yet. The poor man looked like he was contemplating running on deck and leaping overboard.

As soon as Ophelia was gone, Rachael opened the drawer of her bedside table. She took out the letter and read it over again. It had arrived at the hotel in Hong Kong, addressed to Király and with a postmark showing it had come from London. Rachael had seen it sitting at the desk and had no compunction about taking it with her own letters. Why should her staff care if she read their letters? If they objected it was only proof they had something to hide. She had opened the letter when she was alone. At once she recognised the handwriting. Octavia had written this. Octavia, her useless, ungrateful niece who had run away to become some sort of actress like her disreputable mother. Octavia, who had come to Langdale Manor just before Rachael left and had the audacity to inform her that she — Octavia — was thinking of getting married. In the ensuing row it had been revealed that Octavia was in fact already married and was trying to break the news gently. Rachael had not been mollified by this concern for her feelings. Especially when Octavia had refused to say which of her useless, talentless actor friends she'd married. There was no name at the top or signature at the bottom. Nor was there a date or a return address. The message was short. I must see you as soon as you get home. VERY IMPORTANT. Don't phone or write. I had a blazing row with the old hag before I left. Remember J! Heather Glenn. Rachael had held onto this letter for the last week. She was sure Király didn't know it existed, and she hadn't let Ophelia see it either. She simply didn't know what to do about it. The most likely explanation was that Octavia had come to sponge money off Rachael. When that hadn't worked she realised it was useless going to Ophelia, who had no money of her own, and instead appealed to Király. The reference to herself as "the old hag" incensed her. As soon as she got home she'd see her lawyer and have Octavia completely disinherited. But who or what was J? Rachael had tried various conjectures. A mutual friend of Octavia and Király, a place, a stage play, a license plate, even the initial of a rival company. None of them were convincing. Finally she hit on the idea of blackmail. J referenced some event or person Király wanted to remain unknown, Octavia had found out somehow, and she was using it to demand money. As for Heather Glenn — or possibly that was really Heather Glem, or even Heather Glew; Octavia's handwriting was a mess — she must be one of Octavia's actress friends. Why she was mentioned in the letter was yet another mystery.

A steward arrived a minute later with the detective in tow. Mr. Seo looked at the body and drew his breath in sharply. He let it out again with a sort of low whistle. "Well, doctor? What conclusions have you drawn?" he asked. Dr. Latimer pointed to the bullet wound. "She was shot at fairly close range with a gun. I don't know enough about guns to say what sort, but judging by the damage it was a powerful one. The bullet travelled right through her head and out the other side, taking a considerable chunk out of her skull. Death was instantaneous. Her body is still warm and only beginning to go stiff, so she was killed no more than three hours ago." Seo nodded. "What was the angle of the bullet?" "Odd. That's the only way I can describe it. The killer must have crouched down and fired upwards." Seo looked around the room. He looked at something on the wall opposite the body. His expression hardened. "I don't believe cabins usually have holes cut in their walls." "Of course not," Adler said, insulted at the very suggestion. "Why, that would encourage voyeurs and—" He broke off in astonishment as Seo moved a suitcase out of the way. A small square had clearly been sawn out of the wall. Seo peered through it. "Right through the wall. Who has the cabin next door?" Dr. Latimer frowned. "It was originally my cabin. The victim made a tremendous fuss and got her niece moved into it on the first day." "Her niece, who earlier today shouted that she wished her aunt was dead." Seo frowned at the hole. He ran his finger along the bottom edge. "This was sawn from the other side. Recently, too. No earlier than this morning." He turned his head abruptly. "Only one thing doesn't fit here. The watch. How did it end up on the floor?" Neither Latimer nor Adler could answer that. "She knocked it down in her death throes?" the steward suggested. "Except the doctor has just declared she died instantly. Do you think she could have thrown her arms up, knocked the watch off the bedside table, then set her arms down on the bed again in a split second?" "No, that's impossible. The murderer must have knocked it down," Latimer said. "The murderer wasn't in this room at all. They fired the gun through that hole. See the scorch mark on the wood?" It was all very well for him to think about minor details like watches and scorch marks. Adler had a much more important problem. "Should I arrest the niece?" Seo didn't answer for a while. He continued to stare at the watch as if it held all the secrets of the universe. "Yes, I suppose you have no choice. The circumstantial evidence against her is certainly… very strong."

"That was a horrible experience," Phil said. Behind them the house loomed like some fairy-tale monster. The curtains were drawn so the only light was from the streetlamps below. "Indeed," Mr. Seo said. "Have you solved the mystery?" "Not entirely. I'm still unsure if Mrs. Lennox is poisoning her husband. But whatever the answer, my advice will be the same: they should get a divorce." That was the most sensible thing Phil had heard all night. "I think she is poisoning him. You didn't hear how she talked. She was very insulting about you, and she implied something nasty about her husband. I don't know what she meant." "I believe I do." Phil looked at him curiously. He didn't seem inclined to enlighten her. As they reached the gates they came across a most unexpected scene. A man was pacing in circles under a streetlamp, muttering to himself. He was clearly drunk. Phil could smell the stuff from here. He had to keep one hand on the lamppost to stay upright, which was why he was walking in circles. Mr. Seo's hand went to his pocket. Phil looked back towards the house, then along the street to her own. It wasn't far, but they would have to pass the drunkard. He spotted them. He straightened up with a belligerent air. "Now you listen here," he began, slurring his words together. "Go home," Mr. Seo interrupted. "You're drunk and making a spectacle of yourself." The man said a few extremely rude things. "Your fine lady thinks she can fire my daughter and get away with it, well, she can't!" It struck Phil that there might be some useful information here. "Do you mean Lady Kilskeery fired your daughter?" The man's language got even worse. Mr. Seo took his hand out of his pocket. Something was concealed in his hand. When the swear words were removed from the man's speech, his story was, "Gave her the worst reference so she can't get another job, and what did my poor girl ever do to her? Told her what she thought, that's what! Well, I won't stand for it! If my Jenny doesn't get her job back I'll wring that woman's neck!" He raised his hands to demonstrate, but overbalanced and fell flat on the ground. "That's quite enough from you, my good man," Mr. Seo said coldly. "I have a gun aimed at you right now. I advise you to leave." At the mention of a gun the man sobered up. He leapt to his feet and scurried away at an astonishing rate for someone so drunk, still swearing under his breath. "Do you really have a gun?" Phil asked incredulously. Mr. Seo opened his hand, revealing the key to her front door. "No, but he doesn't know that. I doubt he'll be back in a hurry."

Yo-han stared up at the ceiling. He turned onto his side and stared at the curtains. When he still couldn't fall asleep, he turned to the other side and stared at the indistinct shape that was his alarm clock. His brain refused to let him sleep. Those five letters explained everything. If he could only recognise them… Disjointed thoughts and images filled his mind. Leopold Colman aiming a gun through a window. Yo-han's arrival in Tbilisi weeks later. Colman long gone… Why was he thinking of Tbilisi? Colman had slipped through his fingers that time. Sentences from a guidebook: The Georgian alphabet's origin is unknown. It may have been inspired by ancient Greek. But those letters weren't Georgian. It is similar to but unrelated to— Yo-han sat bolt upright. 1909. Of course it had looked like Qnwuw; he'd tried to read it as if it was the Latin alphabet. It should be Ադանա. How could he have forgotten? It had been spoken of constantly when it happened… …And the world had forgotten within months. He wasn't tired at all now. He turned on the lamp, opened his notebook, and began to write. When he was finished he knew everything.

Yo-han continued, "The solution is obvious." His voice was oddly light. Nothing at all like how he had sounded when he laid out the evidence against Leo. There was something going on here that Phil wasn't in on. "Mr. Lennox conspired with either the maid herself or with her father. They knew Mrs. Lennox would meet Çelik Bey in that place at that time. They killed both of them, then cut Çelik Bey's body to make it look like he was the target." Stunned silence followed this announcement. Vi stared open-mouthed at Yo-han. Phil kept her eyes on Lennox. He was still tense. He looked… He looked like someone who was expecting an unpleasant surprise. Not like a murderer who had just been revealed. Beside him Eames had his hands balled into fists. Light dawned on Phil, right as Yo-han said, "Officer, arrest this man." Máté obediently stepped forward. He'd rehearsed his line several times earlier. The only difference was that now he used the accused's name. "Alexander Lennox, I am arresting you for—" Eames leapt up with a shriek. "Stop! You bloody idiot!" He was practically snarling as he looked at Yo-han. "Alec had nothing to do with it! I killed them!" Phil, Vi and Máté looked at Yo-han in unison. Yo-han met Eames' gaze steadily. He was half-smiling. Phil looked back at Eames. She saw the exact moment he realised he'd been led into a trap. His shoulders slumped. He sank down onto the arm of Lennox's chair. He buried his face in his hands. Lennox stared at him. His eyes were very wide and he was trembling faintly, but he didn't look as shocked as Phil would have expected. "David," he said softly. He reached out and put his hand on Eames' shoulder. "David, why?" Eames made a noise somewhere between laughter and choking. "You ask me that?" He lowered his hands and straightened up. He and Lennox stared each other in the eye. Eames took Lennox's hand in both of his. He looked over at Yo-han. "How did you know?" "From your behaviour before and after the murder. From your relationship with Mr. Lennox. From the murder weapon and how you were one of the few people who could have taken it. From the photos in your room. From the cross you draw in your notebooks. But most importantly," Yo-han added, "from something Miss Patton said." Phil's mouth dropped open. "Me? But I don't know anything about this!" "You mentioned an incident a month ago. Mr. Eames punched someone for insulting a woman's appearance. You assumed he was her sweetheart. When I discovered Mr. Eames' preferences, that assumption no longer made sense. So who was the woman? You said she was foreign, and so is Mr. Eames. Who else could she be but a relative?"

They discussed the situation after breakfast. "So," Yo-han said. "I take it you want me to prove your innocence and catch the real culprit." Colman nodded. "When you catch them, don't bother handing them over to the police. I can deal with them myself." Yo-han looked at him. He raised an eyebrow. Colman looked back. One of his eyebrows was naturally higher than the other, giving the impression he was copying Yo-han. What was the point of trying to lecture an assassin on the morality of killing people? Yo-han gave up and moved on. "An alibi will be helpful." "Not for me," Colman said with a too-bright smile. "At the time of the murders I was in Italy, killing my father." Stunned silence fell. Yo-han's instinctive reaction was to recoil in horror. His stronger reaction, born from years of dealing with the most deranged family dramas imaginable, was to sigh wearily. "Why," he said flatly, not even bothering to turn it into a question. Colman shrugged. Beneath his flippant attitude and forced smile there was a mask of defiance. Beneath it was something Yo-han recognised only too well: grief mixed with the knowledge that something had been done too late. That some things could never be fixed. "He killed my mother. I don't mean he literally shot her or stabbed her or threw her in a well, but he killed her just the same." Yo-han suddenly understood Colman's motives perfectly. Hate could drive people to do terrible things, but grief could drive them even further.

Tagging @ahordeofwasps, @eccaiia, @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables, @sarandipitywrites, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D

Adding the taglists: @akindofmagictoo, @lightgriffinsect, @original-writing, @zeenimf, @essiesreadingcorner, @oh-no-another-idea, @verba-writing, @kittensartswriting, @writingpotato07, @sarahlizziewrites, @acertainmoshke, @author-a-holmes, @sam-glade, @late-to-the-fandom (Let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglists!)

#tag game #writing #my writing #my WIPs #WIP: moth #WIP: glass #WIP: deceit #the case files of seo yo han

15 notes · View notes

daibhidjames · 5 months

Text

This is still my favorite Xmas card. It arrived in the mail from Hong Kong a few years ago, the thing is it was mailed in 1987! Back when Hong Kong was still an British colony. I did a Google search and this company is still in business albeit at a different address. Lord knows where it was for 30 years but I hope they weren't expecting an response;

#christmas #xmas

5 notes · View notes

mikkadc · 7 months

Text

Diasporas Marking Identity: Everything Everywhere All At Once (2020)

Everything Everywhere All At Once (2020) is a multiverse film that uses its multiverse narrative to explore the various potentialities and possibilities within the immigrant experience. The film centers on the Wang family, comprised of the elderly Gong-Gong, Chinese-American immigrant parents Evelyn and Waymond, and their daughter Evelyn.

At the beginning of the film, Evelyn gets introduced to a concept called “verse-jumping”, which enables her to access the memories and abilities of herself in alternate universes. She is told that she is very literally the worst possible version of Evelyn out of all the Evelyns within the universe, giving her the most untapped potential with which she can defeat the film’s antagonist, Jobu Tupaki. Within these possibilities of Evelyn’s existence, we see versions of Evelyn that range anywhere from a hot-dog-for-fingers Evelyn to a sentient rock Evelyn.

youtube

In this universe’s version of Evelyn, she and her husband Waymond eloped to the United States two decades prior to the start of the movie, had a daughter named Joy, and are owners of a laundromat business that is about to be audited by the IRS. The Wangs live in a home right above their laundromat, with several markers of Chinese identity present within the home, such as homages to their family in China and Chinese talismans of prosperity.

Evelyn’s daughter, Joy, has come to celebrate Chinese New Year, and has brought along her white girlfriend, Becky. Evelyn and Joy’s relationship is strained as Evelyn does not accept Joy’s queerness, explicitly seen when Joy attempts to introduce Becky to her grandfather, Gong-Gong. Gong-Gong only speaks Cantonese, while Joy primarily speaks English and some Cantonese. As Joy attempts to introduce Becky to Gong-Gong as her girlfriend, she finds herself unable to recount the Cantonese word for girlfriend. Evelyn, who speaks both English and Cantonese, interjects and finishes Joy’s sentence with the Cantonese word for friend instead.

In this scene, we see various immigrant typologies play out. Gong-Gong, who more recently immigrated from China to the United States to live with Evelyn as a result of his medical needs, performs the mentality of sojourner, as he remains an outsider within the United States, signified by how he only speaks Cantonese. By contrast, Joy performs the mentality of total assimilator, where she has assimilated fully into the United States, signified by how she primarily only speaks English. Evelyn thus performs the mentality of accommodation, where she is forced to accommodate the US lifestyle while retaining her ethnic consciousness, signified by how she speaks Cantonese, Mandarin, and English. Within this dynamic, we can see how immigrant typologies can play out intergenerationally.

This film addresses a gap in Hong Kong media pointed out in Stringer’s article, in that Hong Kong films are “noticeably less likely to take on board such spatial and temporal issues” (Stringer, 433). Through its multiverse and infinite possibilities for every character, Everything Everywhere All At Once thus enables its characters to be “socially mobile, … able to move on someplace else” (Stringer, 434). At times, Evelyn seems to bear witness to a parody of Ratatouille as she works at a hibachi grill alongside a chef who is being controlled by a raccoon (called Raccacoonie). At other times, she never eloped with Waymond at all and instead became a famous movie star.

Evelyn, to Waymond: “I saw my life without you. I wish you’d seen it, it was so beautiful.”

By allowing its characters to be everything, everywhere, all at once (literally), this film explores potentialities of intergenerational dynamics and Asian American existence.

Questions:

How does the movie’s maximalism and absurdism aid the film’s exploration of possible Asian American identities?

Can you think of any other movies that use the multiverse, or other science fiction tropes, to examine the immigrant existence?

Michelle Yeoh, who plays Evelyn, is a prominent actress, starring in other popular Asian American media like Crazy Rich Asians, and is even mentioned in the Stringer article. The filmmakers definitely make use of the fact that she’s literally Michelle Yeoh, using clips from her actual red carpet walks and interviews when exploring the version of Evelyn where she is a movie star. How do you think the filmmakers’ decision to cast a popular actress like Michelle Yeoh, impacts the overall message of the movie?

#@theuncannyprofessoro #oxyfilmidentity

10 notes · View notes

vickutz1 · 14 days

Text

TITLE: PrismNET Asia-Pacific Leaders Symposium: Launch of the 319 Global Service Center Initiative

On May 7th, the PrismNET Asia-Pacific Leaders’ Symposium was successfully held at the Cordis Hotel in Hong Kong, bringing together service center heads and community leaders from various countries and regions within Asia-Pacific to discuss the expansive plans for PrismNET. At the event, Marlik Luno, the Chairman of PrismNET Global Development Committee and Chief Operating Officer, welcomed the representatives of the Asia-Pacific community and outlined the development plans for the upcoming months. Luno highlighted the current global societal transformation characterized by significant shifts in productivity. PrismNET is at the forefront of this transformation, leading the development in the AIGC artificial intelligence industry. The company has addressed the industry’s core challenge of GPU power supply for energy in artificial intelligence, having upgraded 13 GPU power clusters globally with a total capacity reaching 1100P. Furthermore, the platform is developing the PrismNET Chain (PNC), a global distributed power cluster blockchain network aimed at consolidating idle and redundant GPU power for scheduling and distribution, thus maximizing the application value of individual GPU capacities.

Subsequently, Tomy Tang, from the Platform Education and Development Committee, analyzed the current state and future value of the AI+DePin industry track for the leaders. He discussed how PrismNET positions itself as the first platform globally to implement an AI+Web3.0 ecosystem. The platform’s GPU power leasing service has already provided cost-effective energy solutions for more AI enterprises. Using AI for content publication, data streaming, and automated sales through e-commerce server rooms built around the world, along with matrixed account operations, the platform has achieved over $7000 in sales profit per account on TikTok, demonstrating the deep application of AI in e-commerce.

Following this, William delved into an in-depth analysis of PrismNET’s business model and its long-term value prospects. Many community leaders expressed that PrismNET’s business model fully meets everyone’s market expectations and that this mechanism is adaptable to various market conditions, ensuring the best possible outcomes for business expansion. The business model, being a core element of project development, features low barriers to entry, high returns, vast potential for imagination, scalability, user-friendliness, and strong promotional drive, which are significant characteristics of the PrismNET model.

During the banquet, the platform made a major announcement with the launch of PriamAI, an AI short video tool tailored for C-end users, integrating functions like IP creation, graphic generation, video conversion, and digital human cloning. PrismAI provides numerous entrepreneurs with powerful tools for easy use. Additionally, users can utilize PNC for exchanges to enhance their experience significantly, also greatly boosting PNC’s circulation and application value within the ecosystem.

At the banquet, the 319 Global Service Center Plan was announced, which, through the strong support of salons and sharing sessions, aids in the business development of service centers in various regions and rapidly propagates PrismNET’s vast ecosystem in the market. The banquet also recognized outstanding service centers for April, with Chief Operating Officer Luno personally distributing awards to the winners. Additionally, the development and evaluation plans for the community in May and a preview of the PrismNET Global Elite International Symposium scheduled for June were announced.

During this meeting, leaders from the Wutong Community and Xinxin International Community shared their experiences, insights, and market development strategies deeply with the attendees, setting goals and resolutions for May. All leaders present reached a high consensus to strive with full effort to discuss, build, share, and win together, and to collaborate in developing a grand industry ecosystem alongside the platform.

About PrismNET

PrismNET aims to provide cheap computing power and sustainable development super power for global AIGC entrepreneurs and developers in the AI field. It promotes the development of the artificial intelligence industry through the construction of distributed computing power cluster networks and computing power leasing services under trusted networks. Provide global investors with a convenient way to participate in the artificial intelligence track and an AI income path.

Follow PrismNET on:

2 notes · View notes

fleurrdelunee · 6 months

Text

003. TO BE A LEGEND.

CHAPTER THREE OF IN THIS UNSTABLE WORLD, TICCI-TOBY X EDEN L. WOLFHAGEN. COMPLETED NOVEMBER 25TH, 2023. 2066 WORDS.

WARNINGS : minor depiction of gore.

Eden likes red, so does Toby. But, Eden doesn't like the idea of blood spraying everywhere.

As Eden stood in her room, Hermes' candle flickers. The shadow dances against the wall, Eden rummaging through old clothes, niche papers, and old trinkets. While the smell of clementine and bergamot floods the room, Eden can't get the smell of iron and dirt from her senses. She steps around boxes fill of junk, grabbing a pile of random clothes to sort through. "I wonder if this would still fit." She talks to herself, throwing the childhood shirt into the keep section. Her mom finally got onto her about college, despite her stable job - which was only two blocks away. She hated school, loved work. Like her mother. But, she had to get this done. De knew that, as she continued sorting. Her mother was really good at being a nag after all. Eden can't get this done without her approval or help, seeing as she didn't know where to start.

"Ma?" She hears her mother's voice in the kitchen, probably talking to her aunts in Hong Kong. De calls her mother again, placing the book onto her desk. No answer, just laughter echoing through the house. "Shit," She murmurs to herself. Cameron can't hear her, so, Eden leaves her room, waving a quick goodbye to her altar. Her mother is sitting on a chair, near the stove, the television channel playing the news. "Hi, auntie." Eden got into camera view when showing up behind Cameron, the mother sipping tea. Eden's skill in her mother tongue could use work, but, her family overseas can still understand her. Cameron gently swats Eden to take her seat - pulling her full attention to cooking dinner. Despite the chore waiting for Eden to come back into her room, she talks to her family.

"Are you finishing school?" "Ah, no, I still haven't applied." "You should! Your mother would be very proud of you for whatever you choose." Eden grimaces. "I'm not sure what to pick." Her aunt frowns. "Take your time, Eden. There is only so much time in your life. It's not good to stress so hard."

"Third sister is right. School is very important. You do not want to be like me," Her mother chimes in. Of course, it's always that.

Eden stops herself from rolling her eyes, and musters a smile, nodding her head. "Yes, ma." It takes a lot for Eden to not argue with her mother, facing the camera to her mother. She leaves her seat, the two continuing her conversation over the sound of sizzling oil. Eden's attention turns to the T.V., not sure what to do with herself. Cameron is busy, and Eden needs her help. She doesn't want to ask, so. . . might as well do this and entertain herself. Eden grabs the remote, her thumb grazing against the buttons, planning to watch Comedy Central or Cooking Network. Before she can change the channel, her eyes squint.

Did she hear that right? Arson in Denver? Fuck. Eden grabs her phone, the newscaster talking about the tragedy of a local neighborhood losing many of their homes, and possibly their lives. She can't stop herself from freaking out, and the mindless chatter of her own family is making it worse. She doesn't remember where they live.

Eden needs to check on Johnny.

Tobias doesn't remember how he ended back home. His house. With the same address, the same fuckin' layout, and the same cursed number on the door. Rebuilt, refurnished, and it wasn't burnt black and full of ashes. His memory is jagged, hands on the ground touching grass that is too familiar. Lyra. Lyra. Lyra.

What happened to her?

The sound of a car passes by, screeching past, almost pulling to a stop. Tobias stands out in the daylight, covered in dust and dirt, reeking of old blood and guts that dried brown into his clothes. You need to remember, Toby. When the person driving realizes that this isn't the right place or time to be concerned, they drive off.

There isn't even a sense of hurt anymore. Nor a hole in his chest that needs to be filled. That was already filled when he killed his father. No, that man doesn't have a right to be called that. Tobias didn't have a family, are you insane? It was just him. Only him. Him. Him. Him. His eyes remain on the car, the license plate number. He memorizes it.

And it's the smell of smoke that kills him. Toby can't help but screech into the grass when he smells the fuel. The smell of burning skin, the sound of cracking bones, his own cries. The way Lyra's head could barely even stay on her neck. Lyra's bones were beautiful, it's the thing he remembers. The way that they splintered out from her chest, blood spilling, covering them red. The belt that was supposed to save her cut into her own neck, the impact of the truck was so hard. Toby couldn't feel a thing. The only thing he remembers from his sister were her bones trying to save her. His sister was the kindest person.

He hoped to see that red and white in everyone else. They all had it. Blood, guts, bones, a brain, a beating heart. Why was everyone in this damn world so cruel? Toby had it.

Even so, it didn't make him kind. His body couldn't feel pain like everyone else. The world around him fought and tore into him. They dug their claws into his mother and his sister. His mother who tried so hard. Lyra, who always stood for Tobias, despite how fucking weird he was. Why was he like this? Why did everyone - "Hey, are you okay?"

The woman above him was blonde, had blue eyes. Not green. "Yea, sorry." Toby can tell she feels sorry for him. "Bad day, huh?" She makes a joke, kneeling down to gently touch his shoulder.

Don't fucking touch me. He wants to yell that at her, despite the concern in her eyes. He shakes, flexing his fingers into the grass. "You know, you're in my yard." She's trying to get Toby to leave in the most gentlest way possible. Tobias realizes she's kind - and maybe naïve, because, if she was reasonable, she would call the cops.

Like any first victim in a horror movie, she's the first one to make a dumb decision. "Can I use your shower?" The blonde awkwardly smiles. She can't say no.

"Sure."

Toby was no good at using knives. He knew better when first entering the woman's home. The kitchen isn't an option. "Here, let me get you a pair of clean clothes." Toby nods, while the lady wanders off. He inspects the decor, careful not to break anything. It's so hard not to smack the vase that's on the coffee table, adorned with red tulips and white baby's-breath. He hates flowers.

It's even harder to suppress the urge to smack Annette into the wall when she comes back. He knows that crème beige would look better with red blood.

"I'm sure these will fit you, you're quite skinny." Annette can't help but comment. Her laughter is supposed to make Tobias smile, but when it doesn't show up, she stops. "Sorry," Handing him the pair of sweatpants and graphic shirt, Annette awkwardly smiles. "The bathroom is-"

Perhaps he isn't the one for conversation, because Tobias leaves right up the stairs before she can finish the directions. Toby already knows where it is. On the left side, second door. He's right. The shower is quick, probably steaming hot, he can't tell. He changes, leaves the bathroom, right as she goes in to grab his dirty clothes.

The laundry room is in the basement, he remembers his mother complaining about how it had to be there. He has time to snoop around. Tobias doesn't really find anything in Annette's home. It's basic, the decor being all the same color of neutral beige. No plants, but those flowers on the coffee table. She has some photos of family, just parents. With no sign of them, it must be a childhood home. Paid off. So, no collectors.

If Tobias were to kill Annette, they wouldn't find out she was dead until her next work day. He's holding a mug on the kitchen counter, Tobias patiently waiting by the island. It's heavy enough.

Annette comes out from the basement door, its entrance a few feet away from him. She's holding her own basket of laundry, which she sets on the island.

"Sorry." She excuses herself, watching as he steps a few feet away. They stand awkwardly close as she starts to sort through her laundry. "Sorry." Tobias repeats her words softly, sniffling quietly. She doesn't hear him over the sound of her own voice. She asks if he wants anything to drink, that his clothes will be done in a hour and thirty, that he can take a nap on the couch.

A hour and thirty is plenty of time he figures. Tobias couldn't even hear her scream over the sound of glass breaking, the mug shattering against his hands. Annette's face is shoved into the basket of clothes, Tobias' fingers wrapped around the back of her neck, as he pushes his weight against her back. Her cries are muffled when Toby swears under his breath.

"Shut up." He doesn't shout, yell. It's a command, and Annette can't help but obey it. She's not knocked out. It's a clean sweep when Tobias yanks the basket from under her head, and smashes her face into the counter.

Her scream of pain is louder than anything, Tobias' hand tightening. Again.

When he lifts her by the hair, he's met with red on white. It's the perfect amount of blood on that marble ivory.

Too bad he wants more.

Eden is met with relief, when she calls Johnny, asking about the fire in Denver. She was in her own head.

"Arson? Were you even listening to the news?" Johnny can't help but joke. Eden is quick to move into her room, kicking aside boxes. "Fuckin' hell, okay, I was talking to my family. I guess I wasn't paying attention." "Clearly," He laughs, and Eden collapses onto cow-print. "I think you need a break from planning." "Planning?"

Johnny's voice becomes confused. "From the camp, De. I think all of that creepy murder shit is starting to give you brain fog." Eden stays silent for a second, before mumbling an agreement. "My mom is making me pack for college. I haven't even applied. This is my break."

"Wildfire is your break?" "Even with the 'creepy murder shit', yes, it is."

He bursts out laughing. "You need a life." Eden fumbles her own words as she processes what he said. "I need a life?! You need one." The bickering goes on for a bit, Eden rolling over to her side, cussing her best friend out. She know she is mentally exhausted, her laughter cutting short into slow heaves, heart slowing down. He's concerned about her. Eden knows that. She worries too.

"At least I worry about you."

"It's completely safe here in Denver." There's a tone of sarcasm, nowhere is really completely safe, still, she understands.

"Despite the wildfires?" "Despite the wildfires." It's all De needs to hear. No crazy arsonist, or creepy legends. And for the great of all, no murder. "I'm going to go, bye, De." It's a quick good-bye, and Eden is left with her thoughts.

That's good. They're all safe. No risk to anything in Eden's life, nothing crumbling apart other than the dooming loom of college. Maybe, she should focus on her life, instead of opening her document to Locked in Wildfire. Totally focusing on how to kill your friends with a crazy legend is a sure way to progress your life. Keep in mind, all of it? Fictional. She should switch that tab over to college applications.

Eden snorts.

Yeah, fuck that.

hi. don't look at how long it's been since i've updated. i like my boyfriend's keyboard. so, thank him for the update. because it go click clack. i really suck at warnings. i don't want to spoil like anything that happens in the chapter in them. it's a dilemma :/ anyways, i hope u guys have had a good few months, escp w the holidays comin' around.

me? i'm still an anxious mess, lol.

don't let strangers into your house, btw. love ya.

your author,

belle.

# LINKS.

in this unstable word's masterlist. request. archive ver. blog general masterlist.

back. next.

as of 11/25/2023, requests are closed.

＃TAGLIST.

none.

＃TAGZ.

2 notes · View notes

hk-cf · 1 month

Text

Customers form their first impression of a company based on its professional business address. To project a polished corporate image in Hong Kong, KPC Corporate Services Limited provides its esteemed virtual office address on stationery, business cards, and other correspondence. You can fulfill all of your business demands there. Today, register your business address in Hong Kong! Phone: (852) 2153–6555.

Visit: https://hk-companyformation.com/hong-kong-registered-office-address.php

#hong kong business address #business address #business registration #company registration #company formation services

0 notes

lilover131 · 2 years

Text

Chapter 66 Analysis

We’re finally back!! Whoooo!!!!

I was seriously pumped for this chapter after such a long wait, and I can rest easy knowing that CLAMP has more or less stated they plan on taking no more breaks until the series is done. That means things should ramp up very quickly in the future, but this month’s chapter certainly seems to set up the atmosphere!

I’m copying Cinzia’s gif of the month thing, but I couldn’t resist posting this gif to highlight my favorite part of the chapter. Haha! Without further ado, let’s get started!

The cover page this month is gorgeous as usual, but I absolutely loooooooooooove the mermaid vibe we’ve got going on here. The way CLAMP draws water, fabric, and crystals are always just so mesmerizing to me, and seeing them all so beautifully done in one place makes for a STUNNING piece! Sakura looks so pretty here, and it really sets the mood for all the pretty things we’ll see in the chapter as she continues to explore Clockland.

Sakura and ‘Syaoran’ (IMPOSTER!) are continuing their flight on the Shade card dragon, and Sakura addresses him as “Mr. Cat” again, indicating once again that she is not currently self aware. Because we know clearly that this is not Syaoran, I will refer to him as Mr. Cat from now on until it is officially revealed who this imposter is (though I believe it is Kaito as he is chaos incarnate and so very much like a cat. Haha!).

Mr. Cat doesn’t much respond to Sakura and seems very much down to business, pointing to the castle in which they are approaching. And can I just say….wow. CLAMP has outdone themselves with this castle design. It has so many layers to it with the clock, roses, thorns, gears, etc. It’s just overall very pleasing to look at and full of symbolism too. The crystal mountains supporting the floating castle very much reminds me of Magic Knight Rayearth, and I believe CLAMP drew some inspiration from their old classic when they designed this.

Sakura comments herself on specific aspects of the castle, such as the iron and stone walls but the ground beneath it being crystal. She asks why that is, which seems to imply CLAMP has made this design choice for a very specific reason. I am incredibly curious to see where they are going with that, but Mr. Cat’s serious face and lack of response leads me to believe even more that this information will be important later.

They finally land on the chessboard like floor leading to the entrance of the castle. And the page of Sakura and Mr. Cat exchanging glances is somewhat unnerving to me. Sakura looks quite pensive and uncertain whereas Mr. Cat’s expression is quite cold and very unlike Syaoran (honestly it reminded me of clone Syaoran from Tsubasa and gave me minor PTSD. Hahahahaha). Instead of answering any of Sakura’s question, he welcomes her formally to Clockland and states the Red Queen is awaiting her.

The scene changes very surprisingly to Yelan (Queen!!) back in Hong Kong. She is naturally standing under the famous Li Clan gazebo, and a light rises from the water. It is Eriol’s image appearing in the ball of light (whooo! I missed his mischievous face!). Eriol remarks that it was Yelan’s doing that Sakura and Syaoran were unable to touch each other, and I had to say that I would never in a million years have guessed that it was her!! I’m seriously so stunned. She explains to Eriol that she felt it was necessary to help Syaoran tell the real Sakura apart from a fake one. Now, I understand her reasoning here in wanting to help him better trust his senses rather than his eyes. Syaoran is naturally talented and has been praised for his fine tuned senses, but of course he can get distracted when it comes to Sakura.

That being said….

Like I’m having a hard time grappling with this, and here’s why. Take a look at these panels from the first chapter in which the spell sprung (lol, spell sprung). He is in genuine pain, and there is fucking smoke coming off his hand. This shit was strong enough to singe his flesh.

And let’s not forget that this started all the way back in Chapter 37!!! That was 29 chapters ago!!!! So my question to Yelan is was that actually necessary and why did it go on for so long? Was she only capable of doing the spell at that time before being effectively cut off? Did she want Syaoran to get used to it before this moment? I have so many questions!! And we can’t forget how this spell seemed so serious of an attack against Syaoran specifically that many, including myself, were convinced that the Squid Caln did this or at least someone with a serious hatred of Syaoran, only for us to find out it was just his mom. Lmao.

However, you truly know how fucked up it is when Eriol is coming out and saying “Was that necessary?”. Eriol, who has literally messed with Syaoran’s soul (read my post on the explanation of the tree scene if you’re wondering why I said this. Hahaha) and also used him to attack Sakura. Eriol, who constantly messed with him emotionally by saying cryptic things and once blotted out the moon and sun, sending Syaoran into a deep slumber he was not guaranteed to wake up from. ERIOL THINKS THIS WAS EXCESSIVE!

He goes on to say that Yelan is as strict as the rumors say, and she gracefully hides her face with her fan, likely taking insult to that statement before thinking to herself ‘Strict? This is gentle…’.

WOW. JUST WOW. Now all I can literally think of is that Syaoran’s training sessions with her probably just consisted of him getting his ass beat constantly. Haha!

Lord, no wonder he reacts the way he does around her!! Hilariously in @meimi-haneoka ‘s translation review, she mentions that Eriol actually uses the word ‘Spartan’ in regards to her strictness, and I am fucking dying at how hilarious that is.

Despite this, I still love Yelan and know that she dearly loves her son. She wants him to be the best he can be (although through some quite harsh methods), but it seems that it is mostly due to the importance of what he will gain from this. He is being raised to take on the responsibility of protecting the entire clan, and that’s no small task. Additionally, I think that she would not have done a spell like this if she didn’t feel that the outcome far outweighed the damage he might receive. Perhaps whatever would happen to him if he slipped up would be far worse, and this was a desperate attempt to help him see through things. I refuse to believe that she did this purely to torture her son and had very good reasons for doing this, as she was once so protective of him that she cut his hair herself when he was young to prevent assassinations. The fact that she has such intense energy behind such a calm, beautiful face is honestly what makes her so charming as a character, and I have many headcanons about her that I want to share in more detail at some point. Her placing the fan in front of her face I feel is a way for her to hide an expression she didn’t want Eriol to see, always keeping her true self hidden from sight.

The English translation on the next page is a bit off and Cinzia fortunately clears things up for us. What Yelan and Eriol are actually saying here is that the Mirror card was likely able to be stolen by Kaito from Syaoran because the card was in a weakened state. This was likely due to all of Mirror’s power not being passed successfully over to Syaoran when he executed the spell. Rather than being upset with Kaito about stealing the card, Yelan instead places blame on Syaoran for using the spell to take Sakura’s cards in the first place. This may seem harsh (are we really surprised at this point?), but she honestly is right and makes a good point. It seems that not just Eriol but his own mother were against him taking the Sakura cards onto himself, and now Syaoran is paying the price for it. Perhaps that is another reason to explain why she chose the spell she did, a slight punishment for his recklessness.

Eriol questions why Kaito always seems to be one step ahead of them, and Yelan mentions that she does not believe he is able to see the future. That certainly beckons the question of how he knows how to react every time, but Kaho (who looks absolutely beautiful in this chapter) brings up the idea that he perhaps is turning back time every single time something doesn’t go right. That means he is likely turning back time way more than we initially thought, and I honestly believe it. After all, in the anime we saw him turn back time just because he slipped up and said a detail about Fujitaka to Akiho that could have easily been explained away. It doesn’t take much of a mistake at all for him to take it back, which also really puts a lot of weight on whatever it is he is trying to accomplish. What he wants is so important to him that he literally won’t allow even the smallest of slip ups to stop it. As we know already, doing this takes a toll on his life force, and Yelan questions what it is he wants that would be worth such a heavy price. No one has an answer unfortunately, so Eriol states that all they can do now is put their faith in Sakura and Syaoran. Can I say real quick how hilarious I find it that he refers to them as “the children” when he still looks like a child himself? Lmao. It’s hard for me to take that moment seriously!

Sakura and Mr. Cat arrive at the fated fountain (I just knew it would appear here!!). This fountain and rose garden looks exactly the same as the one where Kaito met Lillie and where he also met Akiho. They are greeted by Yukito (aka the Promise card). He explains that time flows differently here, and when Sakura asks who controls how the time flows, he does not answer (I bet it’s Kaittoooooo). She also remarks about how the roses are white when she would have assumed them to be red. This is a curious detail indeed, and it leads me to believe a bit more that maybe this is Kaito’s dream world and not Akiho’s. Sakura states that she has a feeling this place is very important to someone and means the world, and Mr. Cat has a serious face when she says that, almost as if she has caught some detail he wanted to conceal. This makes me a bit more convinced that this imposter Syaoran is actually Kaito, and he quickly changes the subject, telling Sakura that they must make haste (hey, another Kaito trait! Quickly changing the subject to avoid uncomfortable conversations!).

As they walk towards the castle entrance, Yukito says with a quite ominous expression ‘Don’t forget..the promise you made’. There is something very intense feeling about this statement, and I don’t actually feel like it’s directed towards Sakura? I can’t actually think at all of any promise Sakura has made to anyone (Yukito made one to Sakura, but that’s all I can think of!). I can’t help but have this eerie feeling that Yukito is actually talking to Mr. Cat, who I still believe to be Kaito. Perhaps Kaito is being reminded of a promise he made long ago and is basically in a subtle way being told “don’t you mess this up now”. I could be way off base with this one, but I just have this feeling it wasn’t directed at Sakura.

Yukito vanishes under the fabric of the Lucid card, Mr. Cat once again reels her in, trying to guide her away from the distractions and where he wants to take her. Sakura asks about the personality of the Red Queen, which he refuses to answer, likely because it is awkward to try and explain his way around how similar Akiho actually is to Sakura.

The large doors open, and they enter a room filled with water. There are two dock-like ledges on either side of the huge room with Touya on one side and Fujitaka on the other, and once again CLAMP is showing the duality here with what I assume is red and white. This imagery still very much gives me the vibe that a choice is about to be made, and the choice that Sakura makes will impact this world and what it effectively turns into. I feel we are drawing extremely close now to the fated decision, and it is here that Akiho introduces herself as the Red Queen. This time she does not hesitate to say it, unlike how she was in the real world as normal Akiho, and I think this speaks volumes. Before, it might have felt strange for Akiho, but now she is truly the Red Queen, so when she says her name, she says it without any hesitation.

The chapter ends there, but I am very excited to see what happens. I think the next chapter is where the stakes will finally be laid out for us, and I am dying to know what mind fuckery CLAMP has in store for us. Bring it on!!

#cardcaptor sakura #clear card #chapter 66 #spoilers #manga #clamp #sakura #syaoran #yelan #eriol #kaho #kaito #clockland #yukito #analysis #chrissy talks a lot #Yelan is a badass mom #she might also be insane

40 notes · View notes

taitaibarhongkong · 9 months

Text

Tai Tai Bar

Website: https://taitai.hk/ Address: 1E, Winner Building, 37 D'Aguilar St, Central, Hong Kong Phone: +852 8197 2772 Business Mail: [email protected] Instagrammable Step into a world of enchantment with our mesmerizing neon signs, exquisite flower walls, outdoor terraces and delightful cocktails! 📸🌸🍸 Event Venue & Bar Our decor will make your event unforgettable. Birthdays, launch parties, corporate events, networking – the opportunities are endless! With packages for up to 60+ guests, we offer delicious food, a variety of cocktails, beers, and wines. Our Menu Top-notch shisha, Signature cocktails, Standard Cocktails, Wines, Draft beer, Shots and Beer Towers. Whether you're planning an intimate gathering or a big event, Tai Tai Bar is the perfect choice.

Payment Methods: Cards, Cash, Alipay

Hours Open: Daily, 6 pm-02 am

2 notes · View notes

laisuncleaning · 11 months

Text

你的一站式清潔公司致力為香港各行各業提供專業優質清潔及消毒服務根據客戶要求制訂專屬清潔方案提供實惠高效的衛生服務

Website: https://laisuncleaning.com

Address: Shop G/FL B, Hip Cheung Building, 249-251 Temple Street, Jordan, Kowloon, Hong Kong

Phone Number: +852 9796 9551

Contact email: [email protected]

Business Hours: Monday - Friday : 09:30 AM - 06:00 PM Saturday : 09:30 AM - 01:30 PM

#Janitorial service in Hong Kong #清潔公司 #清潔服務 #餐廳清潔 #酒樓清潔

2 notes · View notes

manwalksintobar · 1 year

Text

Mugging (I) // Allen Ginsberg

I Tonite I walked out of my red apartment door on East tenth street’s dusk— Walked out of my home ten years, walked out in my honking neighborhood Tonite at seven walked out past garbage cans chained to concrete anchors Walked under black painted fire escapes, giant castiron plate covering a hole in ground —Crossed the street, traffic lite red, thirteen bus roaring by liquor store, past corner pharmacy iron grated, past Coca Cola & Mylai posters fading scraped on brick Past Chinese Laundry wood door’d, & broken cement stoop steps For Rent hall painted green & purple Puerto Rican style Along E. 10th’s glass splattered pavement, kid blacks & Spanish oiled hair adolescents’ crowded house fronts— Ah, tonite I walked out on my block NY City under humid summer sky Halloween, thinking what happened Timothy Leary joining brain police for a season? thinking what’s all this Weathermen, secrecy & selfrighteousness beyond reason—F.B.I. plots? Walked past a taxicab controlling the bottle strewn curb— past young fellows with their umbrella handles & canes leaning against a ravaged Buick —and as I looked at the crowd of kids on the stoop—a boy stepped up, put his arm around my neck tenderly I thought for a moment, squeezed harder, his umbrella handle against my skull, and his friends took my arm, a young brown companion tripped his foot ’gainst my ankle— as I went down shouting Om Ah Hūm to gangs of lovers on the stoop watching slowly appreciating, why this is a raid, these strangers mean strange business with what—my pockets, bald head, broken-healed-bone leg, my softshoes, my heart— Have they knives? Om Ah Hūm—Have they sharp metal wood to shove in eye ear ass? Om Ah Hūm & slowly reclined on the pavement, struggling to keep my woolen bag of poetry address calendar & Leary-lawyer notes hung from my shoulder dragged in my neat orlon shirt over the crossbar of a broken metal door dragged slowly onto the fire-soiled floor an abandoned store, laundry candy counter 1929— now a mess of papers & pillows & plastic car seat covers cracked cockroach-corpsed ground— my wallet back pocket passed over the iron foot step guard and fell out, stole by God Muggers’ lost fingers, Strange— Couldn’t tell—snakeskin wallet actually plastic, 70 dollars my bank money for a week, old broken wallet—and dreary plastic contents—Amex card & Manf. Hanover Trust Credit too—business card from Mr. Spears British Home Minister Drug Squad—my draft card—membership ACLU & Naropa Institute Instructor’s identification Om Ah Hūm I continued chanting Om Ah Hūm Putting my palm on the neck of an 18 year old boy fingering my back pocket crying “Where’s the money” “Om Ah Hūm there isn’t any” My card Chief Boo-Hoo Neo American Church New Jersey & Lower East Side Om Ah Hūm —what not forgotten crowded wallet—Mobil Credit, Shell? old lovers addresses on cardboard pieces, booksellers calling cards— —“Shut up or we’ll murder you”—“Om Ah Hūm take it easy” Lying on the floor shall I shout more loud?—the metal door closed on blackness one boy felt my broken healed ankle, looking for hundred dollar bills behind my stocking weren’t even there—a third boy untied my Seiko Hong Kong watch rough from right wrist leaving a clasp-prick skin tiny bruise “Shut up and we’ll get out of here”—and so they left, as I rose from the cardboard mattress thinking Om Ah Hūm didn’t stop em enough, the tone of voice too loud—my shoulder bag with 10,000 dollars full of poetry left on the broken floor—

November 2, 1974

#poetry #Allen Ginsberg #beat poetry #New York City #New York #mugging #East 10th Street

2 notes · View notes