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johnnysnostril · 3 years

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nct 127 as royals [18+]

♔ kingdoms + empires ♖

this has got to be one of my favorite scenarios so far. ive put together a little something for the people who are obsessed with the royal + medieval times. let me know which kingdom or empire you’re in! enjoy, xoxo

empire of

❅ ELPIDA ❅

colors: yellow + gold

moto: “be delicate like a flower, hopeful like an angel.”

your position: the page ☾❀|❀☽

cares for the royal clothing

assist with dressing the royals

pick out ball gowns and attire for royal dances/weddings

emperor taeyong’s trustee: <<doyoung>>

shields you from witnessing illegal matters

protects you from unexpected dangers

accompanies you to royal fittings

his secret: you are his mistress. he comes to you whenever he’s feeling vulnerable and weak. you’ve been sleeping with the emperor for a few months now and you’re starting to fall in love with him. you want to admit your feelings to him but you know that he’ll never leave the empress just for a page.

sexual desire: <<blindfolding/handcuffing>>

look at you- tied up and blinded. now, i can explore your body without interruptions.

empire of

✤ IRIS ✤

colors: emerald green + white

moto: “listen to the gods- they will never lead you wrong.”

your position: the physician ☤

in charge of the royals health

partake in surgical procedures

assist in healing the wounded knights

emperor taeil’s trustee: <<taeyong>>

supplies you with out of country medicine

shows you how to make potions

provides you with illegal knives to perform difficult surgeries

his secret: emperor taeil is planning on poisoning the empress. with your help, along with his trustee- he is ending his arranged marriage, that he never wanted to be apart of. with her gullible attitude, the empress believes you are no harm. little does she know, that you are the one who will witness her last breath.

sexual desire: <<submission>>

tell daddy how much you love it when he makes you feel helpless.

empire of

ᕯ IPHIOS ᕯ

colors: cream + brown

moto: “show no mercy, show no fear.”

your position: the squire ⚘

apprentice to the knights

witnesses training for battles

eyes and ears of the empire

emperor johnny’s trustee: <<jaehyun>>

teaches you secret death pressure points

reveals all hidden secrets of the knights

shows you secret passage ways through the castle

his secret: he’s cheating on the empress with a queen from another kingdom. somehow, you ended up being his second mistress- landing the position of the squire, by promising to protect his secret from the knights- who are ordered to kill the queen mistress per the empress. although the empress has knowledge of emperor johnny cheating on her, she had no idea about you. and you and emperor johnny will keep it that way.

sexual desire: <<master/slave>>

you follow directions so well, don’t you? master will have his way with you and you’ll behave- like a good little slave, won’t you?

kingdom of

❈ THPHIC ❈

colors: peach + silver

moto: “all that is gold, shall be silver.”

your position: the watchman ✇

watches over the castle

report suspicious behavior

create safety tactics

king yuta’s trustee: <<jungwoo>>

supplies you with foreign bombs

helps you plan stakeouts

provides you with secret information about other kingdoms

his secret: his mother was a servant to his royal father. his blood is not complete royalty. you and jungwoo are the only ones who know his secret- the two of you protect it with your lives. every now and then, you and king yuta will sleep together- as a thank you for keeping his secret.

sexual desire: <<public sex>>

and while everyone is watching, you’d be screaming my name- begging me for more.

kingdom of

✵CHARMOLIPIL ✵

colors: black + burgundy

moto: “never let them see your weak side- show them what they will fear.”

your position: the messenger ∺

relays messages from the king to other kingdoms

witness court trials

bring threatening news to the knights attention

king doyoung’s trustee: <<taeil>>

provides you with weapons that you aren’t licensed to have

helps you falsify information to threaten other kingdoms

supplies you with poison potions

his secret: you witnessed him kill his father so he could take over the kingdom. king doyoung has demanded you be the messenger, running to other kingdoms to let them know that the king is finally dead. he uses you as his secret weapon- having secret late night meeting with you, informing you of your weekly work. as these meeting progress through the months, you start to slowly fall in love with him- letting him know that you’ll do anything to keep his secret and to cover him. the king is slowly catching feelings for you but won’t show his true feelings just yet.

sexual desire: <<threesomes>>

the both of you look so wonderful on your knees. now, please me.

empire of

✾ HALARA ✾

colors: royal blue + plum

moto: “wait for the perfect time, then attack.”

your position: the treasurer ∞

in charge of tax collecting

tracking debit with other empires

monitors the state of the empire

emperor jaehyun’s trustee: <<mark>>

helps you hide stolen money

forges numbers for the books

providing transportation and housing for your escape

his secret: you and emperor jaehyun have been stealing money from the empire. the two of you have convinced the empress that there is a traitor among the castle. emperor jaehyun has planned the escape for the both of you- leaving the empire behind for the empress, as he has fallen deeply in love with you.

sexual desire: <<erotic spanking/servant play>>

ah- you’ve disobeyed me again, servant. bend over, you know what time it is.

kingdom of

❂ CHRYSEOS ❂

colors: red + violet

moto: “stay gold, always.”

your position: the marshal 〶

ensures that the kingdoms laws are enforced

responsible for securing the kingdoms boarders

organizes patrol and responds to threats

king jungwoo’s trustee: <<haechan>>

protects your illegal work regarding protection of the king

assists you with hiring hitmen for the ones who threaten the king

provides you with handguns/weapons for the knights

his secret: you and king jungwoo have been legally married in another country, for five years. the queen has no idea that she is technically a mistress. you plan to hire a hitman to take out the queen, robbing her of her jewls and kidnap the king- to live your life in your home country; where no one knows of your work with the king.

sexual desire: <<roleplay>>

you look exquisite in royal clothing, my dear. what would be even more delicious, is you bent over the queens royal chair.

empire of

✥ MERAKI ✥

colors: gold + black

moto: “take everything, forgive no one and leave no trace.”

your position: the spymaster ⌖

observes the empires criminal elements

spies on other kingdoms+empires

uses collected information to protect the king

emperor mark’s trustee: <<yuta>>

supplies you with illegal torture devices

provides you with secret maps to other kingdoms+empires to break into their castles

helps you protect the king

his secret: you are his long lost love. as he was promised to another female at birth, he fell in love with you as a young man. you were brought into the castle by his father who was the emperor, as an orphan child of a passing village. before the emperor’s passing, you promised to watch after the castle and his reigning son. every now and then, you and emperor mark find yourselves in deep love with each other, but you can’t bring yourself to destroy the lee empire with your own desire.

sexual desire: <<face sitting>>

you’d look even more beautiful, straddling my face. i bet that you wouldn’t be able to ride my tongue without making a sound.

kingdom of

۞ AGAPI ۞

colors: baby blue + gray

moto: “everything in the world is about sex, except sex. sex is about power.”

your role in the castle: the steward ❦

in charge of daily management and supplies needs for the castle and the king

responsible for financial and legal matters concerning the castles estates

represents the king in court, while he is away

king haechan’s trustee: <<johnny>>

covers up your mistakes

protects you from unwanted information being released

prints money illegally and uses it to help you pay for supplies

his secret: king haechan is planning to have the queen assassinated so you can fill her role once she is gone. johnny is the only person who knows that you and the king are sleeping together. although king haechan doesn’t know just yet, you are pregnant with his son-

sexual desire: <<domination and rough sex>>

no one will be able to hear you cry out in this dungeon, my love. but, i do think you need something to occupy that throat of yours.

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parabcllums · 4 years

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⧼ stella maeve, cis female, she & her / abrahams daughter by arcade fire + a full moon hanging high in the star speckled sky, skimming the surface of undisturbed snow and drenching in its light the tops of endless evergreen trees and the decrepit cabin you grew up in. your body is more scar tissue than it is unblemished skin, and all you know is how to bare your teeth as if they’re fangs and treat your fingernails like claws. there’s blood on your trembling hands and it doesn’t belong to you, but that won’t stop it from staining everything that you touch. ⧽ ━━ let me tell you a thing or two about VICTORIA CREED. the TWENTY EIGHT year old child of VICTOR CREED ( LOGAN HOWLETT & SILVERFOX ) is a wayward soul in town, and has sometimes been referred to as THE SACRIFICIAL LAMB. they’ve always seemed very INTUITIVE & METICULOUS, though i’ve heard that they can be pretty CALCULATING & RUTHLESS, too. it’s common knowledge that they have the powers of CLAW RETRACTION, REGENERATIVE HEALING & ENHANCED SENSES ; guess we shouldn’t get on their bad side, huh? redirect HERE for her stat page and HERE to her pinterest board.

and THREATS are just PROMISES you actually WANT to keep.

BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warnings for kidnapping, death, blood, child abuse / neglect, murder, brief mention of assault.

VICTORIA CREED was born in violence. maybe that’s why it’s become all she’s ever known. she never had a CHANCE to be soft - she never had a chance at being someone ELSE. silver fox brought logan howlett the wolverine peace, at a time when it still seemed HARD to grasp. she made him happy. and he, in turn, made her the same, and for providing him with a softness and a kind of forgiveness, he made her feel SAFE. from their love sprung into existence a new life, one that might’ve stood a CHANCE if it hadn’t been for the monsters that hid around every corner of logan’s life. the baby was a SECRET. silver fox worried about what might happen, if anyone knew - and six months gone, she PLANNED on telling him on the eve of his birthday, though it never happened. instead, a monster reared his head. as she died, as her LIGHT went out, silver fox BEGGED for mercy - for her AND THE BABY. it was impulsive, certainly not a part of any plan he had for petty pain, but victor “saved” the child.

no one who would have mattered ever knew about her. with what victor did, to the body… identifying SILVER FOX was hard enough. no one knew she had been with child, and it was sort of perfect, for victor. in this baby he saw an opportunity for a RECKONING of logan’s OWN MAKING. of course she had to survive, first, and he was lucky that her mutation kickstarted as she came into the world - without rapid healing, the preterm and soon christened victoria creed would have died before she could ever have been utilized. she survived, and nobody was looking for her, and with a whole life ahead of her in which she could be molded, victor found himself a WEAPON.

she was never a CHILD. she was HIS DAUGHTER, he raised her as such and he told her as much with a GROWL, but she was not a child. she wasn’t nurtured, or loved. they lived together for a brief amount of time in a cabin, somewhere deep in the canadian wilderness, somewhere that no one would ever find HER - but even when she was young, he had a penchant for disappearing, and when she was FIVE, he started to do that more and more. victoria was never mollycoddled or given a chance to be what she was. she didn’t get to play with other kids, or experience the world around her like a NORMAL child might have. she learned to be SELF-SUFFICIENT, because if she wasn’t, she would DIE. it was that simple.

she learned other lessons, too. victoria was an investment. she was a long term sort of thing - and he treated her more as such than he did a loved daughter, like an actually LOVING FATHER might have. eventually, she would be used to hurt the very people that she SHOULD have cared for. that meant when she was growing, she needed to learn to be a KILLER. her earliest memories, outside of the LONELINESS, are of the metallic taste of warm blood - hunting trips deep into the forest surrounding the cabin, where she was shoved towards mountain lions and grizzlies that would either KILL or be KILLED. he always watched. watched, but never helped - and when she succeeded in toppling the beast, she was not rewarded with words of praise.

for too long, she was too young to understand that this was not the way in which normal fathers treated their daughters. they did not rip their children apart, body and mind. they weren’t forced to KILL, or beaten until they could land a GOOD PUNCH. other kids had birthday parties and a kiss atop their forehead goodnight. victoria never had such luxuries.

his visits to the cabin weren’t frequent. sometimes, she could go weeks without ever having to see him, and in that time, she learnt other things, outside of ABUSE. she learnt the sounds of the forest and how to imitate them. she learnt how to control her mutations, use them for her own good, instead of HIS. she EXPLORED, leaving the cabin daily and running through the area, experiencing the limited world allowed to her.

once, she strayed so far off the track he had told her she could walk in the forest and stumbled across a VILLAGE - the first people to spot the barefoot child as she emerged from the trees with twigs in her wild hair and dirt smudged across her body had gone white faced with shock. they took care of her. brought her to an apartment above a bar, gave her a warm bath - it was the first time she’d ever experienced one - gave her food that wasn’t RAW, told her she could sleep safely in a soft bed that night, while they ‘looked for her parents’. she wouldn’t realize for many years that these people assumed she was a lost child, though she told them, then, how her father was a big, SCARY man, and that she had done some SCARY things. they didn’t believe her. they thought that it was the ravings of a terrified young girl. they allowed her to stay for two weeks. TWO WEEKS of CARE, something she had never had before, and then victor returned and tracked her to the bar, where he slaughtered the customers and found his way upstairs. she awoke to the stench of blood and death and she knew it was him before she had even made her way to the living room, where the owner and his wife lay, bound. this was the first night that victoria killed what WASN’T game - under the watchful gaze of his devil eyes, she didn’t have a CHOICE.

after this, he began to take her with him when he left, sometimes. he had always had ties with the hand, and somewhere along the way, he must have gotten back involved with them. victoria didn’t understand - SHE WAS STILL YOUNG - but she didn’t need to, to do what they wanted. they traveled the world and she saw it all with new eyes, experiencing things that she never could have DREAMED UP in the four walls of the cabin, and along the way, new lessons began. she had always had to FIGHT. it was the only way to make the pain stop, when he started, and sometimes fighting had kept her ALIVE. now he learned to fight for other reasons and he called it ‘training’, but when it came to a hand issued job, all bets were off. victoria wasn’t kept safe by victor. if she needed saving, she needed to do that for HERSELF. this, he said, taught her to be strong. when she had to kill someone along the way, when she hit an animal rage that had been ingrained into her and kept on going - she was learning to be RUTHLESS, and this was a trait that he liked.

he never did care for her. as she got older and began to understand certain things more and more, victoria knew that the neglect, the abuse - they were WRONG. but they were all that she had ever known, and in a way that only children of abuse can understand, she did BELIEVE that he cared. that was why she always did as he said. it was why she never questioned him, when he pointed one way and told her to KILL. LOYALTY. it forms in unlikely places, and it does so with strength that’s hard to break. a mutant in LA during a hand related deal put his hand on victoria’s ass, once, and victor didn’t blink as he ripped that man’s arm right out of his socket. nevermind that months later, he would leave her in tokyo alone for six months. nevermind that he tried to murder her when she was thirteen because she didn’t want to hurt a girl that was close in age to HER. nevermind that three years after that, she spent nine months a prisoner in YEMEN, all so she could kill someone on the INSIDE that victor wanted gone. NEVERMIND that the only reason he sought retribution during that deal gone wrong was snarled not to long later ; because she was HIS. because she always WOULD be.

he was all she KNEW. the life she had led at his mercy was all she KNEW. the limited emotions she was permitted to experience with him were again - all she KNEW. it isn’t that victoria doesn’t recognize that he’s wrong. that everything he’s done, everything she’s done, is WRONG, too - it’s that she doesn’t know anything else, and she’s never stood a chance of it since the day that she entered into this world.

she’s loyal to him, because at the end of the day, the life that he’s given her is the only one she’s ever HAD.

WHAT YOU MISSED ON GLEE:

since this intro was written, victoria arrived in town and set about doing what her ‘father’ asked of her - she killed one of the wolverines grandchildren, she attacked two of his daughters. she would have died for her actions when she finally came face to face with him, had it not been for logan realizing at the last moment that her scent was a mix of HIM & his lost love. it didn’t take a rocket scientist for him to guess what had happened.

she’s been at paragon ever since ; uneasily awaiting the day that either the father who she grew knowing as so comes and gets her, or she is forced to run. the only reason she HASN’T yet is because she has amends to make with the real family who she hurt, and vicki wants to try and do that before it’s too late. she’s aware that someday, she will die, and the life she lives now is one spent looking perpetually over her shoulder for the unmistakable shadow of victor creed - but if, in the few weeks she knows she has left, she can salvage a fraction of her soul - she thinks that dying for what she’s done, and what she has failed to do, won’t be quite as bad.

#sidekick.intro #⌜ ･ﾟ × ･ * she became the bad part of town ― biography. ⌟ / creed.#life is just a series of grinds until ur strong enough to murder ur father kids

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northelypark · 6 years

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I wish you'd write a fic where...Bernard. Just Bernard. (and maybe a tongue-tied Clive who forgets how to human because he's in the presence of a beautiful chess goddess :)

Apparently I can’t even write a drabble without turning it into a 2000+ word fic. But thanks, friendo~ I had way too much fun with this.

Bernard and Clive have their first ever heart-to-heart.

Finally.

Bernard shut his Maths textbook with a satisfying whumph. Now that homework was out of theway, it was time for a bit of leisure reading before bedtime. He turned to hisbookshelf, scanning the top right corner where all his current reads were shelved.Gibson’s The Perception of the Visual World, a shorter work by Bandura onaggression and social cognitive theory, and a few of his father’s old issues ofthe Journal of the Chemical Society (nothis favorite subject, but several of the articles had caught his interest).

He stroked his chin, considering each in turn. It was adifficult choice, but he finally decided on Gibson. There was one chapter inparticular that had given him trouble the other day and he wanted to see ifcouldn’t straighten out what the old bloke was going on about.

Settling in the small crevice between his desk and hisdresser (a new reading spot that was surprisingly comfortable), he cracked openthe musty hard-cover to the page his tattered bookmark had saved.

He had just broken into the first sentence when anexcruciating sound flailed his ears.

Thud, thud.

Bernard swore. Never failed. At least it wasn’t coming fromthe ceiling this time.

“I heard that,” came the unruffled reply.

“Good.”

Bernard squeezed himself out from hisreading spot and opened the door. Clive was waiting for him on the other side.He wore casual clothes, layered, suitable for an evening made cool by the spring shower that had let up only that afternoon.

“What.”

“Are you ready?”

Bernard gazed blankly at him.

Clive’s eyelids dropped, hooding his eyes in apatheticannoyance.

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

Forgot… A terrible dread writhed in Bernard’s stomach. Hispeaceful evening. Ruined. What had he forgotten? A meeting in the “secrethideout”? Some plan to break into a restricted area of the school? Spying onthe Patrol whilst they performed ridiculous rituals?

“The London Symphony Orchestra?”

Bernard shut his eyes. Even worse then he’d expected. But heremembered now. It had all been Gemma’s idea, of course. The London SymphonyOrchestra was holding a free concert in a park near the school that evening.Dreycott’s choir director had arranged for a bus to take any pupils who wereinterested in attending. When Gemma had found out, she had insisted they all gotogether. Something about doing more “fun” things together besides working onexposing the school’s layers of corruption and secrets. As if that wasn’tenough.

“Oh, that,” Bernard crossed his arms, “No. I changed mymind. I’m not going. I’ll weather Gemma’s wrath tomorrow.”

Despite the lingering threat of facing Gemma, he allowedhimself a small, smug smile. Nothing quite so satisfying as canceling one’splans and remaining a recluse for the evening.

“Gemma dropped out,” Clive said, “Emergency drama practice.”

“Oh? Good. Let’s all drop out, then.”

Clive hesitated, his hand moving to fiddle with his collar.Bernard prepared for the worst.

“It’s just…Amelia is rather keen on going now, I think.”

“Okay. Then you two go together. Problem solved.”

A look of panic crossed Clive’s face, as if a train wasbarreling down at him and his foot was caught in the track.

“Are you sure youdon’t want to come? You like the orchestra, don’t you?”

“Not especially.”

Why that pleading look in his eyes? Bernard had known Clivefor almost two years now, but he had never seen his friend look so desperately miserableas he did now.

“I know Amelia wanted you to come.”

Amelia. Clive’s eyes had darted to the side when he’d spokenher name and his collar-fiddling had increased slightly. He knew how to concealhis emotions well, but Bernard prided himself in his ability to read even themost guarded of persons. When he felt like it, anyway.

So. That was it. He was just needed as a sort of third wheelto keep the outing from becoming awkward. Or something. Which was ridiculous.Weren’t the two always off playing chess alone together? Why was cramming intothe back of a sweaty bus in order to cram into the back of a sweaty crowd tolisten to some strains of Mozart by musicians who knew they weren’t gettingpaid any different?

Bernard sighed. Clive was still looking at him with thoseoncoming-train eyes. If he wanted to keep his evening to himself, he’d either have to convincehis friend to stay or convince him to go. He would undoubtedly think it ungentlemanly tolet Amelia go by herself, so that left the other option.

“Come in,” Bernard said, turning on his heel.

“But what – ”

“Shut up and come in or I’ll charge double for my services.”

Clive followed him into the room and sat down on the edge ofhis bed, raising his eyebrows skeptically.

“Your services.”

“Yes. I’m going to diagnose your problem and offer suitablerecommendations for solving it.”

Bernard sat down at his desk, retrieving a notepad and pencil. If hewas honest, he and Clive mainly communicated through quips, insults,and their shared interests in reading and sarcasm. As muchas he hated to admit it, Clive was the closest thing he had to a brother, arather paltry wish he had given up on years ago. But they rarely talked about any problemsthey had. Not seriously anyway. Bernard wasn’t even sure he could carry on aconversation like that…what did they call it? A heart-to-heart. He shuddered.It sounded like some type of high-risk surgery.

Still. Clive was his friend and it was evident he need a bitof encouragement. Bernard had a feeling that even if he did decide to tagalong, Clive would remain miserable. There had been something between him and Amelia for awhile now. Something neither seemed capable or willing to properly address. Perhaps there was a way to save hisevening of leisure reading and ease Clive’s anxiety without sacrificing eitherof their dignity…or at least his own. He had to have a bit of fun along theway, after all.

“The bus leaves in five minutes,” Clive said, “And I don’t have a problem.”

“That’s all the time I need. And you do have a problem. Myanalysis of your sorry face tells me everything.”

Clive closed his eyes.

“Why do you do this?”

“To torture you. Also, to help you using the latest in clinical psychology. Now, what are your symptoms? Particularly when you’re around Amelia.”

“I don’t know. This is ridiculous.”

“Answer the question or I’ll have to pry it out of you usingunethical methods.”

“Unethical methods,” Clive cocked an eyebrow, “You’re threatening my life, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Now answer the question. You’ll feel better. Maybe. Probably not, but answer it anyway.”

Clive rubbed his forehead.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “Sometimes nothing. I just feelnormal around her. But other times, it’s as if all the air is being sucked out of me,as if I’m screaming inside. Into the void of space. Or I wish I could besucked into space. One of the two.”

“Hm. Yes,” Bernard looked up with a professional frown, “It’s most definitely infatuation. Textbookexample. A horrible disease, really. But not without known treatment options.”

Clive’s furious blushing was all the evidence he needed.

“What? No. I – ”

“Shut up, please,” Bernard scribbled in his notebook. “Nowthe preferred treatment option is to become a hermit and avoid all humancontact for the remainder of your life.”

“Bernard – ”

“Or to remind yourself daily of the crushing weight of your own fragile and meaningless existence.”

“Okay, I get it.”

Clive sighed again, his creased brow and slash of a frown revealinga mixture of irritation and impatience.

Bernard stopped writing. Perhaps he really was no good atthis sort of thing.

“I’m kidding,” he rolled his pencil between his fingers.

What to say? Hisdiagnosis was only half the story. It wasn’t just a matter of infatuation.Clive and Amelia were friends. They’d been through a lot together this pastyear. Cared a great deal for one another.

He racked his brain for suitable words. Words that wouldn’tcome out biting and sharp as they usually did. Advice that could help and not simplyadd salt.

Think.

He’d fancied a girl in primary school once. But then she’dstuck gum in his hair when he tried teaching her what the word photosynthesismeant. No good. He continued to pick through the last fourteen years. Lookingfor something useful.

And then, out of countless gray memories, one took form that didn’t seem to relate to Clive’s problem at all. Old, but strangely luminous.

It was of when he and his parents had lived in that housenear the empty lot, overgrown with trees and sagging bushes. It had been abusy, and stressful, time for his parents, he recalled, when both had beenworking long days and longer nights at one of London’s biggest hospitals. Theyweren’t around much, but when he did see them they still smiled and talked andpoked fun at the other. And sometimes they would shove everything aside, allthe bills and paperwork and to-do-lists and go to that empty lot. His dad wouldlight a small fire in a homemade fire-pit, as if they were out in the middle ofthe woods, instead of the middle of London. It was most likely illegal, but noone was ever around to care. And then they would take turns reading to him, ashe was still too small to quite know how to do it himself.

Sometimes he would end up nearly asleep, curled up in the lap of oneor the other, but still alert enough to listen to their conversations.Sometimes they’d argue. Quietly. But other times they’d simply talk about howthe other’s day went. And that was enough to reassure him for the time being.

Clive stood.

“I’ve got to go. I’ll just tell her that – ”

“That you’ll go,” Bernard said, “I think you two should go. And I’m not just saying that because I want you to leave me alone.”

Clive’s brow creased, but he waited. Bernard shrugged, stillturning the memory in his mind. “Tomorrow we’ll all be back to being busy. Dry lectures. Bland food. Four-page essays. Exposing evil livingstatues. Better take a break while you can and, I don’t know, it’s good to gosomewhere for a while with someone. To check-up on each other and sharebeing miserable, even. To remind yourself that even though you hate most everyone, there’s still one or two or three people you can stand to be with.”

He was rambling. Why was he rambling? What was he evensaying? “I guess what I’m trying to say is, maybe you’ll look back and regret notspending more time with certain people if you’re only ever worried about things. And by the time you realize it – well…” He shruggedagain, “That’s it, then.”

Clive remained silent, rubbing his chin. Considering.

Bernard looked away. He never usually wished to take backwhat he said, but he did now. Because itwas stupid or because it was true? And if it was true, what did that make him?

There was a long pause before Clive finally spoke again, his voice quiet and thoughtful.

“I’d better go find her then, before the bus leaves.”

Bernard stood, feeling a bit disoriented.

“I’ll go with you. Make sure you don’t run away.”

Amelia was waiting for them at the bottom of the steps to the girls’dormitories. She wore a jumper with a white pawn stitched across the front, rain-boots, anda peach ribbon in her hair.

Bernard noticed Clive looked ready to pass out. He placed asteadying hand on his back.

Amelia smiled teasingly when she saw them.

“There you two are. Thought you might have gotten lost.Ready to go?”

“Yes, but Bernard’s decided to stay and read in his darkenedroom,” Clive said.

“Oh, so – ”

“Yes, just, er, just me and you, if that’s alright?”

“Oh, um – alright. I’m mean, yes, if it’s alrightwith you…”

Bernard looked between the two of them, blushing andstammering and fiddling with collars and hair, and wished he were blind anddeaf and living in Antarctica.

“Alright. Time to go. Get out of here now,” he said, shooingthem along.

Amelia waved.

“See you, Bernard.”

“Thanks, mate,” Clive said. He smiled, but his eyes were solemn.

Bernard nodded.

His friend’s smile shifted to a cheeky grin, “You know, you make a pretty good therapist.“

“I’m glad you think so,” he grumbled, “I expect my fees by tomorrow. One hundred quid per minute, so, that’ll be five-hundred, altogether.”

Clive’s grin faded.

Returning to his room, Bernard watched the two out the windowas they made their way towards the long drive where the bus stood idling in the pale dusk. They were laughing at something or other, dodging puddles, shoulders brushingnow and then. The bus honked and Amelia grabbed Clive’s hand, pulling him alongso he nearly tripped over his own clownish feet.

A tolerable match, Bernard decided, allowing a faint smile.He gave himself a mental pat on the back. His good deed was done for the week. Maybe it would make up for being a hypocrite.

Then again, he thought, as the stars came out, sometimes it’s necessary to be miserable alone, too.

With this in mind, he slipped back into his dark, dusty creviceand cracked open his book once more.

#professor layton #the lamplight letters #bernard trewinkle #clive dove #gemma mudget #amelia ruth #my art #ask

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dickie-gayson · 6 years

Text

CHAPTER 4: COUNTING BODIES LIKE SHEEP

Summary:

Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd

Genre: Horror

Length: 4k+

Other: Arkham Knight!Jason, Talon!Dick. this is The Worst Chapter - the Remix

Find It On: Ao3 Fanfiction

Counting Bodies Like Sheep

"I was hung from a tree made of tongues of the weak The branches, the bones of the liars, the thieves Rise up above it, high up above and see One night of the hunter, one day I will get revenge"

Jason's heart thumped an almost painfully quick pace in his chest as he lay on the dusty floor. He stared wide-eyed and unseeing at the ceiling as if it held the answers to his problems. Talon hovered over him, looking far too much like a leopard waiting to feast for Jason's liking. Still, he did not move. The weight of his predicament and new revelations seemed to keep him tied down and helpless. He certainly felt helpless. The assassin watched with a morbid sort of fascination as the resignation killed what little light had sparked in Jason's eyes.

With no warning, Talon rose on graceful feet and turned from the downed man. It was clear he viewed Jason as no threat just in the relaxed way he moved. There was no line of tension drawing up his shoulders. No hint of wariness in his posture. It was equal parts humiliating and irritating to be thought so little of. Jason watched the killer's soft steps closely, still on edge from the earlier assault. Every shift set his teeth on edge. Talon was unpredictable with his temper, making him a troubling foe.

He seemed to stop before a spot of blank, peeling wall just out of Jason's view and stare. It seemed to be a recurring theme with the new Dick Grayson. He stared far more than before and it was downright creepy. There was something he couldn't quite place in those gleaming eyes that made him want to crawl out of his skin. Jason saw pure evil, was face-to-face with it on a daily basis for a year, yet this was something completely different. It left the astringent taste of fear lingering like bile on his tongue. It kept his pulse pounding despite his best efforts to keep it calm. Yes, there was something completely different about this thing and all the demons Jason faced in his life.

Cautiously, he rose to his feet. His efforts to mask his movements were rendered useless as Talon heard him. The slight cocking of his head in Jason's direction was a dead giveaway of that. He had to resist the intense urge to try and brutalize the assassin who faced away from him. It wouldn't end well, he knew that much. The small amount of satisfaction he'd gain from landing a few hits wouldn't outweigh whatever the repercussions would be. Personally, Jason would prefer to be stabbed but Talon seemed to have a fondness for causing mental and emotional wounds. That was something he had no desire to endure at all.

Jason noticed that the only exit that wasn't boarded over was right beside Talon. Of course. He doubted that was a coincidence. Sure, he could try to make a break for it but he highly doubted he'd make it out before being dragged back in. To make matters worse, Jason was still missing his arsenal of weapons and tools that had been stripped of him while unconscious. He flexed his hands, sorely wishing for a gun or something to defend himself with, no matter how useless. This feeling of being totally exposed and helpless was something Jason absolutely loathed. No matter what he's gone through, the horrors he's triumphed and training he went through, he was still the victim. It was driving the man completely insane.

There was a fury in his steely gaze that he was positive Dick could feel. If looks could kill, his captor would most assuredly be nothing but ashes from the glare penetrating his back. It was with a certain degree of reluctance that Jason turned that angered glare from the black-clad man to sweep over the room in a more meticulous examination. Letting the crazed killer out of his sight wasn't something he was particularly keen on doing. However, he needed to find his gear and he couldn't exactly do that while trying to burn a hole through the back of the other man's skull.

Now that he wasn't panicking he was able to take note of a few more key details. All the windows but one had been boarded up, the lighting was purposefully dim to the point of near blackness, and there was an array of vicious looking blades of many forms lining the tops of boxes near Talon's little nest. What had appeared to be brown blankets were in reality white blankets completely covered in stains. It didn't take the world's greatest detective to guess where those brownish stains came from. The thought of just how many bodies it took to get that much residual blood was baffling. The analytical side of him was legitimately curious just how many DNA samples he could get from one swipe across the cloth.

He spotted his weapons and belt sitting out in the open on a weathered desk near Talon. Jason was mentally weighing whether or not he really needed those items or if he should take his chances. It was a short-lived thought, as he knew Talon had very purposefully placed them where he could see but not quite reach without getting near the assassin. All these false little windows of opportunity only added to Jason's growing resentment. That asshole was toying with him to see if he'd fall for those traps. Jason clenched his jaw in frustration as he swiped his now scratched helmet from the floor. Just as he was about to slide it back on, Talon's quiet voice cut through the air.

"Don't."

Jason paused, helm above his head, and stared at the assassin. Then, he took notice of the piercing yellow eyes in the dim reflection of a mirror so grimy it could almost pass as part of the wall. Had it not been for the tell-tale golden glow he wouldn't have even noticed that Talon was watching him. He'd been watching this whole time. Jason locked eyes through the dirtied reflection and gave a defiant sneer before forcefully putting the helmet on. All systems blinked on as the suit reconnected with its missing piece. There was a somewhat entertained look on the killer's otherwise blank features.

"Robins never were very good at following orders."

That made Jason's lips twist in an irritated scowl. He hated that Dick kept bringing it back to that. Robin. The argument 'I'm not Robin' sat heavy on his tongue, waiting to come out again. It was useless. To this bastard he'd always be Robin. Once a bird, always a bird. Jason could almost swear that the carved R on his chest was mocking him. He stomped heavily toward Talon, who still faced the wall but tracked him through the mirror. Jason wasn't quite sure whether he was drawing closer to punch the frustrating man, to grab his gear, or just try to jump out the window. Perhaps a daring combination of all three, though not quite in that order.

He came to a slow halt as his eyes landed on the section of wall Talon was covering. All thoughts of escape and his supplies left his head. Carved crudely into the wood was a long list of names; some were already scratched out. Jason read the list and recognized quite a few, if not only from word of mouth. He knew what this list was but the thought that Dick made a hit list, no matter how demonic he's become, was almost unfathomable. It just didn't quite connect. He found himself questioning it without thinking.

"What the hell is this?"

He mentally facepalmed for asking the stupidly obvious. Truthfully, he half expected to hear a witty 'my shopping list, obviously' or something equally dumb. Instead, that ravenous stare was back on him full-blast. There was no response at first, just an uncomfortable silence. Then, Dick spoke in that unsettling arctic whisper.

"The damned."

Had it been the old times, when Dick was still Nightwing and Jason was Robin, Jason would have snarked back about Bruce's melodramatics rubbing off on the older boy. But these weren't the old times and those soft words left his gut churning. It wasn't what he said but how he said it that got under Jason's skin. There was such unmistakable malignance in his tone that even Batman would be chilled to the core. Rather than linger on the discomfort, he kept reading the list. There was one break in the names, a section that looked like it'd been hacked at. There was no hope of reading what name had been there. The curiosity ate at Jason, but he continued on. It was a varied list, going from super villains to people Jason would have marked as average Joes. His eyebrows rose once he hit one name in particular.

"Slade Wilson. You're gonna try to kill Deathstroke?"

That unsettling stare turned sharp, nearly vicious, at the surprise in Jason's voice. He almost backtracked from that look alone.

"He wronged me. I will kill him."

Jason let out a low whistle at the sheer level of spite in his words. He knew all about the feud between his brother and the super-assassin. Who didn't? The fights between the two, particularly when Dick had been Robin, were something of legends among teen heroes. Now that Dick was turned into this, he almost pitied Slade. Almost. Whatever Hell he brought upon himself was completely deserved. As his eyes swept back to the list, he couldn't help but wonder just what the rest had done to deserve it as well. 'Catalina Flores, where have I heard that name before?'

"If this is everyone that wronged you, I gotta say I'm surprised the list ain't bigger."

Making enemies in their line of work, well, previous line of work was laughably easy. What hero didn't have their scars? It was meant as a joke, but the look he got in return made the light tone wither on his lips.

"It was."

Talon pushed a box that was sitting on a table. Jason's gaze fell onto the now exposed portion of the wall and that sickening feeling returned. Names lined the paneling, all scratched out. Many were from Gotham's elite that Jason never bothered to look into. He hardly pegged them as criminals. Then there were others; Elaine Marsh-Morton - otherwise known as Lady Vic or Lady Victim, and Tom and Tad Trigger - The Trigger Twins, Dudley Soames, Shrike, Guillermo Barrera, Randy Hanrahan, Giz, Mouse. All noted criminals and assassins. All crossed out. The list of scratched out names went on and on. It flooded to the next panel and ended at the next target: Harvey Dent. It wasn't too surprising, given how the madman had tortured Dick when he was Robin.

He was impressed by the body count Talon was able to rack up without drawing attention to himself. Hell, Jason was part of the underground scene and he never heard so much as a whisper of someone murdering others left and right. Sure, he heard word that some of the more notable people, like Lady Vic, were dead but nothing else on the topic. No one ever connected them together. To find out it was all Dick fucking Grayson that killed them? He's pretty sure his brain shorted out for a few moments trying to process it.

"I almost added you."

Jason had to force himself not to jump at the unexpected words. While he'd been focused on piecing everything together, Talon had slipped uncomfortably close. He was all but looming at this point. If Jason's armor didn't cover him so completely, he's pretty sure he'd be able to feel Talon's breath on his neck. Then, what Talon said caught up with him. He resisted the urge to step away from the eerie assassin. Dick seemed to notice this hesitation and spoke again.

"But I don't want you dead."

There was an unspoken 'yet' at the end of his sentence, Jason could feel it. He couldn't decide whether those words were meant to be comforting or a warning.

"Y'know, that's not as reassuring as a 'But I couldn't kill you'."

Again, it was meant as a joke, and again that look was all too serious. No matter how familiar the voice, he had to remember this wasn't the man he knew. It was a monster, as was evident by the cold stare he got in return. The silence that greeted his words was all he needed to know. This...this shadow of Dick Grayson could kill him and not feel an ounce of remorse. Jason promptly ignored all the reasons that hurt. He could still feel that heartless gaze on him as he returned to staring at the list. There were names Jason expected to see but didn't. In fact, it infuriated him just a bit that a certain name wasn't on his brother's list.

"I don't see Joker here."

There was no hiding the ire in his words. All these names and Joker - fucking Joker - wasn't deemed worthy of Talon's time. It pissed him off more than just a little bit. His fists clenched tight as he tried to reign in his temper; his hurt. There was another beat of silence before Talon spoke.

"Not mine to kill, not mine to add."

He then pointed at the section of wall that looked like it'd been hacked at. It was clear now that it had been Joker's name on the wall. Any response Jason had came to a halt as he was presented with a wicked looking knife. He got a pointed look from the assassin, making his intentions very clear. It was to be Jason's vengeance and so Jason should carve his name. He stared at the blade in surprise while Talon continued on.

"I was going to torture him. Drag out every last inch of his life then slaughter him like the swine he is. ...Then, I found out you still lived."

That rage fizzled out under the confusing assortment of bewilderment and, as much as he'd deny it, happiness. Despite the frigid, impersonal tone and former treatment, Jason couldn't help but be a little pleased someone was going to avenge him. He didn't doubt the assassin's words in the slightest. Given his possessiveness up until this point, it'd align just right for him to seek out the one who killed 'his Little Wing'. Jason took the blade and traced his free hand over a blank spot on the wall. He let out a slow breath then dug the dagger in. Each stroke of the blade was slow and deliberate. A bit of hate flowed into every line. As that hate and anger mounted, the gouges grew deeper. When the name was complete, it was cut further into the wood than any other. He had to yank out the blade at the end of the 'R'.

Teal eyes glared at the name and the dagger trembled in his grip. This must be why Dick chose to carve the names rather than write them down. It was much more intimate; made one really remember why they were on the list. In a spur of rage, Jason sliced yet another name into the wall beneath Joker. He could remember her high pitched laughter and nasally voice just as well as the Jokers. She was as guilty as him and she'd pay. 'HARLEY QUINN'. He grit his teeth as he glared at the names. His fury was evident in the growing choppiness of the lettering. It was less meticulous in style and fueled by his emotions. The memories dredged up brought with them the familiar heat of wrath and hate. It caused him to quake from the sudden onslaught. He all but snarled as he slammed the dagger back into the wood, carving even more names. Everyone that hurt him would feel his pain tenfold.

All the while, Talon watched silently. He was curious as to who would be sentenced to death by his little brother next. There were names he didn't recognize and names he did, like Sal Maroni. The list was not nearly as extensive as his own, but the sheer resentment that went into each stroke and letter could almost even the gap. As reluctant as Jason had been to cooperate in the beginning, Talon knew they could work well together on this. They would.

Jason took a step back from the wall and let out a low breath. The animosity still poisoned his veins, but he felt a little lighter marking those names down. It'd feel even better once those names had lines through them, he just knew it. It would calm some of his inner demons to rid the world of those scum. With Talon's help, he knew they'd all fall. So, why did it feel like he just made a pact with the Devil?

There was still one name he's yet to mark down. It would have been two, but he doubted Talon would appreciate his attempts to add Tim Drake to the list of the damned. That thought made his temper flare just a bit more. Having to spare his replacement just because Dick was obscenely possessive sent spikes of frustration through his nerves. He ground his teeth and gripped the handle of the dagger a little firmer. Then, he started to add that last name, the hardest one to write. The one that he would have given his life for and almost had. The one that failed him. Bruce Wayne. Jason didn't get further than 'BRUCE' before his forearm was caught in an unforgiving grip.

"No."

He looked at Talon with something akin to betrayal at being stopped. Tim he could understand. He didn't like it, but he understood. Bruce though?

"What the hell, Dick? After everything that's happened to us you're just going to let him go?! He deserves to be on this damn list! He needs to pay for his failures!"

The words were spat out with such venom, it was nearly enough to hide the pain that lingered under the surface. The slight crack in his tone near the end didn't help his situation. There was still no reaction to his torment or anger. Then, Dick calmly moved his hand to cover Jason's own hold on the hilt.

"Death isn't justice. It isn't vengeance. It's solace. Justice and vengeance? They come before death."

The way he spoke, so soft yet so unbelievably vicious, caused a chill to run down Jason's spine. Then, he moved the dagger under both their command and began to carve a new name.

"You want Bruce to suffer? He will suffer."

'B'

"He will beg and plead for the children he forsook."

'A'

"He will be reminded how he failed. Every. Single. Day."

'T'

"We will face him but we will not offer forgiveness."

'M'

"We will break him but we will not offer solace."

'A'

"Death would be kind, Jason."

'N'

"I am not kind."

Jason stood enraptured by his voice, envisioning what he spoke of. There was a dark, damning promise to his words that filled the younger man with a sick sort of glee. Originally, he wanted to just end Bruce's life for leaving him in the caverns of Arkham but this? This would be so much better. The utter iciness of Talon's hate contrasted so wildly against the searing heat of Jason's own animosity. Combined, the two could surely bring ruin to anyone and anything in their path. The plan he had started shifting to accommodate the ideas now planted in his head. Jason spoke low and slow, voicing the thoughts as they formed.

"We kill the bat and leave the man."

Bruce is his real mask, not the cowl. To be left with only 'Brucie' would certainly be a hell of his own making. And to know it's all because of the sons he forgot and replaced? That would definitely destroy him. 'If he even cares at all.' The invasive thought couldn't help but crop up. Jason was still utterly convinced Bruce felt nothing for them other than their shelf life and how useful they could be. Being forced to live every single day seeing the weapons he cultivated turned against him would be so delicious. Yes, Jason could see the merit of Talon's plan on leaving him alive.

The assassin watched the thoughts rolling through his brother's head with interest. He gave a slight nod at Jason's words. It was what he intended on doing. Destroy the legend of Batman, leave nothing but ashes in their wake. It would torment their 'father'. He could hardly live without the cowl and cape. They would strip him down, hollow him out and leave him cold, just like he left them to be.

"He'll know the pain of being left with a face that isn't truly his."

Talon's tone was acrid in its loathing. The two looked at each other, taking note of the disfigurations that marred the other, making them almost strangers. Dick's distortions were far more severe, but Jason was marked so cruelly by his tormenter that he could hardly stomach his own reflection on good days. What happened to the two was tragic. What they planned to do to Bruce will be anathema. A cruel smirk curled up Jason's lips. The day of reckoning was drawing near and he couldn't wait to watch them all burn.

He was drawn from his musings by Dick taking his dagger back. Why he needed all those knives on him, Jason still didn't know. He was a living weapon with fucking claws. Then again, he liked to pack an excessive amount of weapons himself. Maybe it was a comfort to feel that much more protected. Though if he were being truthful, Talon gave off a vibe that it was just to have more ways to kill people. Really, he had no room to judge.

The assassin then handed Jason his equipment back. It was a bit of a shock but he quietly took the peace offering. At least, that's how Jason thought Talon was offering them to him. A sort of olive branch. He woke up here despising Talon and would leave here feeling something close to camaraderie with the killer. Those cold, cruel words still echoed in the back of his mind, warning him not to become complacent near Dick. 'By my name you lived, Little Wing. By my name, you'll die.'

Jason holstered his guns and clipped on his belt, feeling safer in his full Arkham Knight regalia. When Talon placed a guiding hand on his shoulder, it felt like the cold hand of death gripping him. He motioned toward the window and gave an almost feral look.

"The sun is setting. We have hunting to do."

He didn't miss the fact that Talon didn't ask if he wanted to hunt with him, but rather issued it like a command. Jason gave a sigh as he checked his comms and messages. His men were a bit frantic that he went missing, especially after receiving such a grotesque 'gift'. He radioed over to Bax to let the man know their commander was fine. Then, he turned his attention to the waiting assassin. Talon was perched on the window sill staring at him, owl mask firmly in place. His pose was almost achingly similar to how Dick used to perch at the edge of ledges, just on the balls of his feet and teetering dangerously. It was yet another reminder that no matter how heinously different he was now, there were still some Grayson mannerisms left in the man.

"I've got to get back to base. My men are freaking out since some people can't talk to others without kidnapping them."

He took a cautious step toward the window, testing the waters. Jason wasn't sure how this crueler version of Dick would take his disobedience. If Talon let him out, then that'd be great. It'd mean he wasn't as freakishly controlling as Jason was led to believe. If he didn't let him out? Well, there wasn't too much he could do about that but follow his previous orders, was there? He was mentally rooting for the former but expecting the latter. Talon gave that strange little head tilt and made no effort to move from the sill. Jason was forced to come to a halt before the assassin. A frustrated noise rumbled in his throat at the lack of cooperation from Dick.

"Seriously, I need to go. We can 'hunt' some other time. I have shit I need to do."

What was meant to be forceful came out a little closer to a plea than he would have liked. There was a beat of silence and neither moved. Then, Talon grabbed him by his armor and yanked him forward with more force than Jason was expecting. He was only just able to choke back the startled noise from slipping out as he steadied himself. In reflex, he grabbed for his weapons but didn't fully unholster them. No need to rile up the crazy undead killing machine after they just got on friendly-ish terms. Dick pulled him so close, their masks nearly touched. The vicious, almost ravenous edge to his voice had Jason swallowing in fear.

"Go. Settle your business. Look at the flash drive. After that, we will hunt."

There was no room left for argument in those selfish, hellish words. He found himself nodding in agreement with the terms. Jason could deal with a compromise. It was honestly more than he was expecting from Dick at this point. Talon shoved him away with the same amount of force, nearly causing Jason to trip over his own feet. Then, he leapt from the window with the same enviable grace that left all who saw in awe of the last of the Flying Graysons.

A shaky breath came from Jason as he attempted to calm his spiking nerves. This had not gone like he planned at all. After one last look around the room with a pause to re-read the names, Jason made his own escape. It was going to be a long night, that was for sure. He had to figure out what the hell to do about Scarecrow now that Talon threw himself into the mix. That could wait until the more immediate problems were addressed, though. There were men to sort out, orders to give, and, most importantly, a flash drive to examine.

#Me and the Devil Verse #Talon!Dick #Arkham Knight!Jason #The Arkham Knight #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #My Writing #fuck me this is Bad #o well i tried ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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deniscollins · 5 years

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Highways on Fire. Semesters Cut Short. A Recession. Can Hong Kong Heal?

Under a 1997 agreement, Hong Kong is part of China but residents have many liberties denied to citizens on the mainland, including free speech, unrestricted internet access and the right to free assembly. University students in Hong Kong have led protests against the city’s leadership for becoming too closely aligned the Bejing’s authoritarian political system, including a ban on face masks hiding student identities. A minority of protesters have turned violent and this has generated violent excessive force by police, including firing tear gas and rubber bullets into the grounds of Hong Kong universities, which breached the perceived inviolability of educational institutions, setting off some of the most violent confrontations. If you were a university president, what would you do: (1) cancel the last weeks of the semester or (2) continue to hold classes? Why? What are the ethics underlying your decision?

Storefronts closed for weekend demonstrations are now shuttered, for weeks or even permanently. Protesters are occupying major roads, rail tracks, bridges and tunnels, cutting off critical thoroughfares for commuters and commerce on a daily basis. Universities are telling students not to come back for the rest of the semester.

Nearly six months into the antigovernment protests, life in Hong Kong has dramatically changed, pushing the economy into recession, fraying faith in the authorities and pitting neighbors against one another. The turmoil has upended a city long known for its world-class transport, gleaming towers of global finance and cosmopolitan aura, with the potential to alter Hong Kong’s character.

Some of the wounds may be lasting.

Violent confrontations with the police and mass arrests of protesters have eroded faith in the government and the legal system. Those have been hallmarks of the city’s distinct status under the “one country, two systems” policy, Beijing’s pledge when it reclaimed the city from Britain in 1997.

Decisions by the city’s leadership, like an extradition bill that set off the protests and a face mask ban, have cemented fears that Beijing’s authoritarian reach stretches to Hong Kong. They are stark reminders that Hong Kong could become just another Chinese city when the pledge expires in 2047.

Other scars are likely to fade over time.

Students and teachers will sit together in classrooms again. Vandalized malls, smashed subway stations and destroyed sidewalks will be repaired. Shoppers from mainland China will eventually return to buy Tiffany rings and Chanel bags, lured by low taxes.

The economy will slowly recover, too. While multinational companies have drawn up exit strategies, few have plans to move. As the bridge to China, Hong Kong is hard to leave and even harder to replace.

The healing process, though, cannot begin until the protests end. And with each escalation, both sides seem further apart and a peaceful outcome less likely.

“Nobody wants blood on his or her hands,” said Regina Ip, a member of Hong Kong’s cabinet. “But because no decisive action is taken, Hong Kong is being destroyed.”

As the distrust deepens, the demonstrations, once largely peaceful and confined to the weekends, are now spilling over into weekdays. Activists speak of the police as a brutal tool of the Hong Kong government rather than blaming the Chinese Communist Party.

The narrative of an out-of-control police force is reinforced by footage and photographs in chat groups of officers beating protesters, and using pepper spray and tear gas on bystanders. A cellphone video of a policeman shooting an unarmed young protester on Monday spread wildly on social media.

In recent days, bankers and lawyers in suits and ties have gathered with black-clad protesters outside their high-rise offices at lunchtime to heckle and yell at the police. One skirmish this week between a man and a group of riot police officers happened just feet from Hong Kong’s stock exchange. In another, a banker from Citigroup was arrested.

“People are just expressing their opinions, and people in the government and the police force are using excessive force to suppress the opinions,” Marcus Lee, 26, a lawyer, said at a lunchtime rally after officers had just fired tear gas. “The police are especially aggressive toward students and teenagers.”

China’s top leader, Xi Jinping, on Thursday made his toughest public comments so far about protests, pointedly giving his backing to the city’s police.

“The continued radical violent criminal actions in Hong Kong have gravely trampled on rule of law and social order, seriously damaging the prosperity and stability of Hong Kong,” Mr. Xi said in Brasília at a summit meeting of developing countries, according to an online report from People’s Daily, the official newspaper of the Chinese Communist Party.

China, Mr. Xi said, “staunchly supports the Hong Kong police in sternly enforcing the law, and the Hong Kong judicial authorities in punishing violent criminals.”

When the police fired tear gas and rubber bullets into the grounds of Hong Kong universities this week, they breached the perceived inviolability of educational institutions, setting off some of the most violent confrontations. Administrators and professors now say they are bracing for a long-term hit.

Universities could struggle to recruit foreign and mainland Chinese students. Many mainland students fled across the border to Shenzhen this week as the police and students activists fought at the borders of some campuses, and foreign universities have been canceling exchange programs. In the coming years, foreign students could be dissuaded by the perception that the government might try to stifle academic and speech freedoms.

This week, hundreds of university scholars worldwide joined local peers in signing a petition calling on the police to halt campus attacks and warning they might reconsider academic partnerships in Hong Kong “if student’s safety is at risk and such blatant violation of academic and intellectual freedom continues.”

William Hayward, dean of social sciences at the University of Hong Kong, said the school’s president, Xiang Zhang, had reassured the faculty and students that “we remain a global university where we engage in a kind of academic discourse wherever it leads, where our colleagues think it should go.”

“So any of my colleagues can feel free to teach what they want, teach a class to pursue questions of scholarship that they want to pursue,” he said. “And nothing about the current environment has changed that in any way.”

The protests have created major gridlock in a city that runs on efficient logistics.

On the campus of Chinese University of Hong Kong, students in recent days fanned out to block the city’s oldest train line and one of its largest highways. The barricades have created a choke point, making it difficult for one million Hong Kong residents to reach the rest of the city. Trucks traverse the road, ferrying goods made in southeastern China like air-conditioners, cellphones, costume jewelry and shirts.

Efforts to turn Hong Kong into an Asian cultural capital have been dented by the protests. Events and shows have been canceled, including an appearance by the “Daily Show” host Trevor Noah and the Hong Kong Tennis Open. People are asking whether the annual Art Basel event will be held in March.

The performing arts venues that make up the ambitious West Kowloon Cultural District are still running. But they have had to cancel, postpone and adjust performances in recent weeks.

“We had nearly 15,000 people come to our inaugural Jazz Fest this past weekend,” said Alison Friedman, the district’s artistic director of performing arts. “While ticket sales are down, attendance is staying strong. We need the arts more than ever.”

It all threatens to make a bad economy even worse. The turmoil has pushed Hong Kong’s economy into a recession — the weakest since the depths of the global financial crisis. Daily headlines about violence have scared off tourists and business travelers.

On a recent Sunday afternoon, protesters and riot police officers faced off outside the Peninsula, one of Hong Kong’s oldest hotels. Employees quickly shut the front door, closed the blinds and rolled down the shutters, but they weren’t fast enough to prevent tear gas from floating into high tea, and while a lone violin played, guests wheezed.

Although the protests have hurt growth, the city’s economic core is also one of its greatest strengths for enduring the tumult. Multinational companies use Hong Kong as a gateway to China, and Beijing uses the city as a gateway to the world. There are few alternatives that also offer the free flow of capital and information.

“As long as Hong Kong maintains these two distinct characteristics, it will have an advantage,” said Weijian Shan, chief executive of the private equity firm PAG.

Hong Kong has its currency pegged to the United States dollar, making it reliable and stable. China, which has a tight hold on its currency, also uses Hong Kong as the first financial stop to transact and trade with the rest of the world.

China can’t afford to risk Hong Kong’s role.

Chinese financial institutions have hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of assets in the city, while state-owned companies own as much as 30 percent of assets in Hong Kong, according to an analysis by Global Source Partners, a research firm. Chinese companies, top Chinese Communist officials and rich businesspeople have parked their wealth in the city, which would be under threat if Beijing changed its policy.

In a vote of confidence for the city, the Chinese e-commerce giant Alibaba is expected to raise $13 billion this month by selling shares on the Hong Kong Stock Exchange.

Hong Kong is also still an important entry point for multinational companies into China. The city’s laws are based on British legal tradition. In China, the rule of law is weaker.

“I have not heard from one person that they are pulling out of Hong Kong,” said Rick Helfenbein, president of the American Apparel and Footwear Association, which has 335 corporate members with brands like Jimmy Choo, Versace and Gap.

“They may be pulling their hair,” he added. “Safety is a topic of conversation. Leaving is not.”

#Hong Kong

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whisperedwavywords · 7 years

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Today a friend told me: “Thank you for being a good influence.”

I had pushed a promise his way, slid it across the table that is the two electronic points by which we are tethered, and gave him a path to meditation that I too am following.

It’s a promise – not that you asked – to mediate daily, each month, listen to a soft, steady voice guide you through the art of breathing and grounding yourself in the here and now.

But… you wouldn’t know about that, would you? You wouldn’t know much about me, if someone asked.

You used to know so much, and you do know so much, about Who I used To be

You haven’t seen me since I started following the “2” in my age with a “3”

You haven’t seen me since I stopped responding to “she”

You haven’t seen me since I cut my hair short, you haven’t seen the parts of my upper back and shoulders always hidden by long strands of hair tied back and away from me I wear it down more often now because it is not in the way

You haven’t seen my cat since she got a new, blue collar, and you haven’t seen my office, filled with sunlight, trimmed with glittering lights and happy small plants who turn to me for nurturing

You haven’t seen me since my eyes became sharper, since my smile started widening, since the clouds receded from my mind and I could feel again.

You haven’t seen me in months that ache like years, blurred together, fluttering past like leaves

But you’ve been gone for much longer.

You pulled away, trying desperately to let our connection wither and only succeeding in pulling pain, tearing the tether, and sending us both seething to crash against one another without warning

You tried to disappear in embers and words like the smoke that used to pour out of your lips from the open window of a car behind a grin that told me “I’m leaving to try to die”

That car is dead now. Totaled, in a wreck that was your fault.

Your new one lets you get away with more, faster.

Your new one still fucking smelled like smoke when I last sat in it. I hope it doesn’t anymore.

The last I saw you, you hugged me goodbye without looking me in the eyes. You were hurt, and had chosen to keep us up into the night with your pain and your suffering and I had told you I couldn’t take this anymore. I couldn’t take your crying, your clawing at my soul while confiding in hopes for a crutch, I couldn’t keep catching you while you flung yourself off bridges hoping to be coddled Or to die.

I thought that was the beginning of regrowth But you poured acid on the roots Killed it before it began And hoped I would walk away when nothing bloomed.

I hope you’re happy. I mean that in both senses of the phrase.

I hope you find the joy you were seeking in this. In leaving. In finally finding the fucking words to say you wanted out. I’m proud that you tried. But don’t think I didn’t notice that it wasn’t your words that did it.

It was my strength that called the meeting, it was his ipecac question that forced your choking, vomited “No,” and your empty apologies from your smokeless lips

“That’s all that needs to be said. Whatever reasons you have for not wanting to be friends anymore… keep ‘em to yourself.”

His response was perfect. It was calm, but cutting. I went for soft and stunned, saved the searing anger for myself.

It still burns, though the salve of time is beginning to finally soothe the wound.

Fuck you, though.

Fuck you, and I mean that in only one sense of the phrase.

Fuck your list of grievances, of gross oversights, mistakes, wounds we have apparently inflicted. Fuck your silence. Fuck your decision that saying nothing and trying to tear away was the right thing to do. Fuck you for thinking that our friendship meant so little that you could just ignore us until it crumbled away.

Fuck you for forcing my hand to hold the shattered pieces of your heart that pierced my palms with your misdirected anger and suicidality.

Fuck you for the times I held you as you screamed and shook beside me and you wished your body would shake apart so you could be still, and quiet, and cease to be.

Fuck you for the laughter we shared on field trips to see canyons, for the concerned looks you gave me when I tried to take risks to ensure injury

Fuck you for the times you stayed and saw sunrises on school days, soaked in sweat and sweet tea in my backseat, sitting shoulder to shoulder and dying to try to leave. Try to get in the car and leave. Try to leave and leave and leave, together.

Fuck you for the fear of train tracks and the singing sense of forest fires.

Fuck you for the world we built with our bare hands for the characters we created together for the stories we told and the stories we made, for the art we created for the words we wrote, fuck you for hazel eyes and sun soaked faces, for naps and hugs, for the soft sounds of breathing together as we all slept away our sadness in sync

Fuck you for these memories that fall like broken glass across my hands, that mean nothing now, that only hurt and hurt and hurt.

But… you wouldn’t know about that, would you?

You haven’t known what I felt for months. You haven’t pretended to care what I felt for months.

You’ve been leaving for months.

Coward.

I want to say I learned something from you. From this. Something to make these jagged memories mean something.

But all I’ve learned is that sometimes you can give everything you have to someone and they can take and take and take and then leave you when you will give no more. Leave you with questions you don’t want answered. Leave you with the threat that you’ve done something horribly, irreparably wrong despite disappearing for months. Imply that you have been hurting them for too long to count, that you’ve been cruel and that you're to blame for their silence.

What a shitty lesson, friend.

I guess that’s not your nickname anymore.

But he was right. Whatever reasons you had, keep 'em to yourself.

In parting I can at least take sick satisfaction that we’ve left you trapped with the silence that rotted our relationship.

I’m not to blame for this, friend, and you’ll never make me feel like I am.

#prose #bloodroot #burgundy #angel dust

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thrashermaxey · 6 years

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20 Fantasy Hockey Thoughts

Every Sunday until the start of the 2018-19 regular season, we'll share 20 Fantasy Thoughts from our writers at DobberHockey. These thoughts are curated from the past week's "Daily Ramblings".

Writers: Michael Clifford, Ian Gooding, Cam Robinson, and Dobber

1. Of all the Islanders, I believe Anders Lee is the player who will be least affected by the loss of John Tavares. His spot on the top line and top power play unit will be unaffected. And he will be given an elite center to work with who may just provide a better compliment of skills to his own.

Mat Barzal may have been a rookie last season but he impacted things all over the ice. He and his linemates were consistently controlling the play; providing positive a Corsi For percentage (CF%) despite being deployed in the defensive end as much or more than the fun end of the rink. Don’t let the 22 goals fool you, Barzal is as pure a passer as there is in the league. He averaged just 2.08 shots-per-game as a freshman. His 34 primary assists sat tied for eighth most in the league with Johnny Gaudreau, Leon Draisaitl and Jonathan Marchessault. His 0.77 assists-per-game sat seventh. Not bad company to keep.

Now a pure distributor gets to dish to one of the league’s most deadly finishers. Sure, Barzal will have a hill to climb. He is no longer insulated by Tavares and will earn the opposition’s top defensive pairing and shutdown line. He will be game-planned against and tested on a nightly basis. However, he’s already an elite talent and the safe money is to bet that he finds a way to be successful as the top offensive option.

Lee may not hit new career-highs in a myriad of categories again in 2018-19, but he’s ripe to slip on draft day due to the perceived loss of Tavares. You can take advantage of that by sneaking him in as category filler with a solid floor and legitimate ceiling. (july21)

2. The impending Erik Karlsson trade, what does this do to Thomas Chabot? It surely gives him more minutes, especially on the power play, but the quality of that team will be…lacking, let’s say.

Chabot was, predictably, caved in last year shots-wise when playing away from Karlsson. That’s to be expected from such a young defenseman playing on a team devoid of talent. But, who does he play with next year that could help in this regard? Cody Ceci?

Though he looks to have a bright future it could be tough sledding ahead for Chabot. It may be a few years yet before his fantasy potential is realized and it’ll have nothing to do with his play personally. Just the team surrounding him and the player he’s paired with. (july17)

3. Oliver Bjorkstrand had 11 goals and 40 points in 2017-18. Though technically his third season in the NHL, 2017-18 was Bjorkstrand’s first full season. Like most forwards on the Blue Jackets, his role fluctuated greatly, though he didn’t find himself on the top line with any sort of regularity. He often skated with Nick Foligno, Sonny Milano, Alex Wennberg, or Boone Jenner.

If that’s to be Bjorkstrand’s role this year, improving significantly on 40 points doesn’t seem likely. Bouncing around the middle-six with secondary power play minutes doesn’t bode well for a huge boost in production.

That it doesn’t bode well for a bump in points doesn’t mean one isn’t coming. Bjorkstrand is turning into a top-end playmaker to go along with solid shot rates. Had he not shot 6.7 percent last year, if he shoots just 10 percent, he has 16 goals and a 45-point season and maybe he’s viewed with some consensus as a rising star.

Bjorkstrand’s problem is a good one for Columbus in that they have solid depth on the right side. Josh Anderson had a breakout season despite the injuries, and following a slow start, Cam Atkinson reminded us he’s a very good, and very consistent, goal scorer. Bjorkstrand has the look of a top-6 winger but due to their depth, he might not see many more minutes per game than he did last year. (july19)

4. Habs’ Artturi Lehkonen fits the category of a potential deep sleeper. Don’t be fooled by the lack of offense last season. He’s a player who could pay off if drafted outside of the top 150. I’d even be willing to bet that he’ll still be available outside of the top 200. He was projected for 21 goals and 44 points in last season’s Fantasy Guide. Could he reach that total this season? You might just have to take a gamble, which is one that Dobber could back you on. (july22)

5. The Wild have signed Matt Dumba to a five-year, $30 million extension. With Dumba’s bridge deal of $2.55 million now expired, salary cap owners will now need to set aside an additional $3.5 million per season for him. He certainly made good on his contract year, recording his first 50-point season (14g-36a). Prior to 2017-18, Dumba’s career high was 34 points, so this was a breakout in the true sense of the word.

If you didn’t know that Dumba scored 50 points this past season, it might be because he got lost in the crowd. Dumba was one of 19 defensemen to score at least 50 points – a number that grew significantly from 2016-17 (just 9 d-men) and 2015-16 (12 d-men). This is the trend of the puck-moving d-man at work. (july22)

6. Evan Bouchard (Edm) and Ryan Merkley (SJ) arguably have the highest fantasy potential for 2018 NHL Draft blueliners outside of Rasmus Dahlin but both carry varying degrees of risk.

As a 1999 birthdate, Bouchard is physically ready to play in the NHL. He’s accomplished a great deal in his three years with the London Knights, including a monstrous 26-goal, 87-point draft-eligible campaign. His shot is large and in charge and he has very strong vision. He would instantly become a threat on Edmonton’s top power-play unit. That said, his skating and pace of play need to improve. Not to mention the sheer difficulty in teenagers playing defense against the very best forwards in the world. Bouchard should be targeted high in keeper leagues and is one to watch in one-year leagues if he’s still hanging around camp when the pre-season is coming to a close.

Meanwhile, Merkley is one of the most divisive prospects we’ve seen in several years. The late-2000 birthday means he’s one the youngest from the crop and also the most under-developed physically and mentally. Questions surrounding his commitment to all facets of the game, and attitude issues have followed the wildly talented blueliner for a few years.

There’s one thing that is not in doubt: when he has the puck on his stick, magic can happen. His ability to create offense is unmatched by nearly everyone in the 2018 group. The Sharks clearly aren’t too concerned with potential attitude concerns. They traded for and then committed major money to Evander Kane. You can’t have a soft stomach to make those moves. (july21)

7. The Canucks were clear when the signed Jay Beagle that it was to provide Brandon Sutter with an opportunity to no longer be buried in the defensive end – he started a ridiculous 22.65 percent of his draws in the offensive zone. The hope for the team is that they’re paying him like a second line center (4.35MM), hopefully, he can produce like one if freed up.

Having him play with an elite talent like Elias Pettersson and a bounce-back candidate in Loui Eriksson won’t hurt. However, I question his ability to drive offense on a consistent basis.

As for Pettersson, he should be able to carve out a role on the team’s top power-play unit in Henrik Sedin’s old spot on the right half wall or patrolling the right point. Having Pettersson and Brock Boeser on opposite sides will be chaos for opposing defenders but it’ll take the rookie some time to adjust. His ceiling remains sky-high. (july21)

8. This isn’t some sort of prediction of a breakout. What I’m saying is the ingredients are there for the Devils’ Blake Coleman to have a good season. Travis Zajac is in freefall and though I’m a believer in Pavel Zacha, it’s not certain he’ll be a full-time center next year. Coleman could find himself with more minutes next year depending on the performance of others and he has the skills necessary to put up a sneaky 20-goal season. Do not ignore him in deeper leagues. Even if he busts, he can be had at such a discount that replacing him on the waiver wire is easy. (july20)

9. Coleman got me thinking about Marcus Johansson, another Devils skater. Johansson missed nearly three months with a concussion thanks to a flying elbow from Brad Marchand. He eventually returned in the playoffs but for just a few games, not nearly enough to judge him, especially considering how much time he missed. He looks ready for 2018-19 and let’s hope the concussion issues are behind him.

It’s easy to forget that before getting to New Jersey, Johansson averaged 20 goals and 30 assists a season for three years. That was on a high-powered Washington team but Johansson was a fixture of the top PP unit with the Capitals.

Before the concussion issues started piling up, Johansson didn’t spend much time with the top PP unit in New Jersey. Does that change now? The three forwards seemingly locked into the top unit should be Taylor Hall, Nico Hischier, and Kyle Palmieri. Could Johansson be the fourth? It may be tough because assuming Will Butcher takes that spot again, it would give them four left-handed shots. That may open the door for someone else.

All the same, I will be paying attention in training camp. The Devils used a lot of different combinations last year but Johansson will get overlooked this year in fantasy. If he seems to have the inside track on the top PP unit, be sure to pencil him in at the end of your drafts. If he doesn’t, he can probably be left alone in most leagues. (july19)

10. Whether Jimmy Vesey takes the next step in fantasy relevance depends on usage. He’s averaged about 14 minutes a game over his first two years and that’s just not enough to put up the raw totals necessary to be relevant in most leagues. Will a new Rangers coaching regime give him more minutes or will it be status quo? It’s worth the risk in deeper leagues to draft him late but in shallower leagues he’s probably still waiver-wire material until something changes. (july20)

11. Phillip Danault has shown chemistry with Max Pacioretty in recent seasons but the captain doesn’t seem likely to start the year in a Habs uniform, pending a trade. If Tomas Plekanec is reunited with Gallagher, that doesn’t leave much for wingers to line up with Danault.

Even with top-six minutes, Danault doesn’t contribute in peripheral categories outside of face-off wins. Unless it’s a deep points league or a league with face-offs, he can be left on the waiver wire. It’s a fine real-life signing but the fantasy hockey impact is marginal. (july19)

12. The Calgary Flames gave the long-term deal Elias Lindholm had been looking for and the contract will carry him to his age-30 season.

How Lindholm will be used will ultimately determine whether this contract gives the appearance of fair value, or a great value. He has four full seasons under his belt, averaging 17:38 per game in that span, and managing 14 goals per 82 games over those four seasons. To say that it’s just because he played in Carolina, Justin Faulk scored more often in fewer games played. Lindholm somehow developing into a perennial 25-goal scorer seems like a bridge too far.

Some may point to Jiri Hudler putting up 31 goals and 76 points seemingly out of nowhere when slotting with Johnny Gaudreau and Sean Monahan. His previous career-highs were 25 goals and 57 points, which makes Lindholm’s situation a bit different.

What if Lindholm isn’t on the top line all year? Or, most of the year? Or, even half the year? If he plays 17 minutes a game in the middle-six, why would we expect more than 15 goals and 45 points? I don’t doubt that Lindholm gets minutes on the top line, it’s just a matter of how many and for how long. There’s a good chance his average draft position (ADP) gets too high for a reasonable profit. (july19)

13. Chris Tierney had 40 points last year for the Sharks. With Joe Thornton returning, Joe Pavelski still in the fold, and Logan Couture around for the better part of a decade, Tierney will be locked into that third-line role for at least one more year. That, combined with the lack of power-play time, means improving substantially on 40 points is difficult.

That doesn’t mean he can’t repeat, though. There is a lot of winger talent on this team, starting with Pavleski (though he’s really a center) and Evander Kane, then Tomas Hertl and Joonas Donskoi, and an emerging star in Timo Meier. Regardless of how the lineup shakes out, Tierney will have at least one talented winger to skate with so putting up 40 points again is possible.

Pavelski has one year left on his deal and it’s uncertain whether he’ll return. If he doesn’t, Tierney could be bumped up the lineup in a year’s time. But for 2018-19, expect more or less the same as 2017-18. (july19)

14. The Predators have signed Juuse Saros to a three-year, $4.5 million extension. Saros is worth keeping an eye on this season, as Pekka Rinne has one more year left on his $7 million per season contract. If Rinne’s playoff struggles carry over to the regular season, we could be seeing a lot more of Saros. Plus that would give the Preds a chance to see if he’s ready to take over in net in 2019-20. If so, $1.5 million per season for a starting goalie is a sweet deal. (july18)

15. This has to be the year the Ducks finally throw Sam Steel in the lineup, right? He averaged a shade under two points per game in his Draft-plus-1 year and followed that with 83 points in 54 games last year. The injury to Ryan Kesler, and the uncertainty that brings, undoubtedly leaves them one center short. He has to figure into the lineup, right?

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about the need for the Ducks to move Ondrej Kase to the top line. I’m not sure that will actually be the case (no pun intended but welcomed nonetheless). A third-line duo of Steel-Kase is something that would be worth the look for the Ducks. Scoring outside of Rickard Rakell was hard to come by in 2017-18; Kase and Adam Henrique were a distant second behind Rakell’s 34-goal total with 20 each. Being able to run forward pairs of Ryan Getzlaf-Rakell, Henrique-Jakob Silfverberg, and Steel-Kase is a good way to spread out the talent while having solid lines throughout the roster. Provided, of course, that Steel can prove himself.

I’m intrigued here. He won’t get the top PP minutes to bring significant fantasy relevance but with so much time having elapsed since his draft, outside of dynasty owners, Steel is likely to go under the radar in keeper league setups. Take a flier on him late. (july17)

16. One player whose ADP I’m excited (scared?) to see in September is Yanni Gourde, a player in the vein of guys before him like Viktor Arvidsson, Jonathan Marchessault, and to a lesser extent Ondrej Kase. A guy certain pockets of the hockey community saw a player with good underlying results in small samples, solid minor league numbers, and hoped they’d get a chance. Gourde finally got his chance and managed 25 goals and 64 points as a 26-year old in his first full season.

Assuming the reports are accurate, Tampa Bay looks like the landing spot for Erik Karlsson. The question is the return. Is Gourde part of the package? Tyler Johnson? Alex Killorn? There will surely be picks and prospects. It’s still uncertain if any roster players are part of the package. Regardless, the lineup as it sits today is not likely to be the lineup in two months.

Gourde likely slots on the third line this year, be it as the center or winger. Who plays with him? Will either Killorn or Johnson still be around? Will he be lined up with Cedric Paquette? Maybe one of their young wingers in Boris Katchouk or Taylor Raddysh, unless they’re part of the Karlsson trade.

There’s also the shooting percentage, which was over 18 percent overall and over 14.5 percent at five-on-five. That put him just outside the top-10 league-wide among forwards with 1000 minutes.

Gourde is a very good player. In cap leagues, he’s an exceptional asset. I just worry that the steam behind Tampa Bay as a team, Gourde’s superb year, and everyone wanting to get The Next Marchessault will push his ADP too high to be had at a reasonable price. We’ll see in a couple months. (july17)

17. Sometimes I wonder about Chris Kreider’s ADP this year. His goal, assist, shot, and penalty minute paces (per game) were pretty much around his career norms. He’ll be on the top line with top power-play minutes. With the Rangers going through a rebuild and Kreider coming off a season where he missed a lot of games due to injury, does his ADP get depressed? He can be a very good across-the-board roto contributor when healthy. With a new coach and true top-line minutes, this seems like value in the making. (july17)

18. For the second straight year, Filip Forsberg’s overall time on ice declined. For the second straight year, his five-on-five ice time per game declined. For the third straight year, his five-on-five shot rate declined. For the second straight year, his shots per game declined. For the second straight year, his five-on-five individual expected goals rate declined.

Anyone watching Forsberg knows he’s not in decline. The guy’s hitting his prime. Injuries played a factor last year and the emergence of Viktor Arvidsson meant fewer shots to go around when the duo was on the ice together.

One thing that saved his season was his shooting percentage on the power play. His previous career-high was 15.4 percent. From 2014-17, he shot 11.3 percent on aggregate. In 2017-18, he shot 26.7 percent. Just playing 82 games will help mitigate the drop in PP goals but a return to normalcy could still cut his PP goal totals by three or four, even with the 15 extra games. The team shot 8.8 percent with him on the ice at five-on-five from 2014-17. Last year, that jumped to 10.2 percent. Despite the team’s expected goals per 60 minutes at five-on-five with Forsberg on the ice being 2.7, they scored 3.6.

He also set a career-high in individual points percentage – the rate he tallies points on goals scored with him on the ice – with his previous high coming in 2014-15. It was a marginal record, but still his best.

Forsberg wasn’t very far off a point-per-game pace last year. The question is if he can repeat that and be an 80-point player this year. Given the high percentages basically across the board, I find it hard to believe he’ll be near a point-per-game player. Maybe he can crack 70 points but I’ll be interested to see his ADP once September rolls around. It might be too rich to search for any profit. (july17)

19. A couple of recent two-way deals I want to point out: Andreas Johnsson with the Leafs and Danny O’Regan with the Sabres.

Johnsson has to clear waivers in order to be sent down and he’s already proven time and again that he’s NHL-ready. I already have him as a lock to make the team. Why he signed his two-way qualifying offer was strategic – he’s banking on a full NHL season so that he can cash in next year. Meanwhile, my hunch is that Leafs’ GM Kyle Dubas was thinking about how to get him to sign for two or three years – and I wonder if Johnsson signing his qualifying offer caught him off guard. The Leafs will never – never – waive him no matter how horrible his training camp is. I like his thinking there.

O’Regan would have been in tough to make the Sabres and he can still be sent down without clearing waivers. So, he’s as good as off the team to start the year. But, he has nothing left to prove in the AHL. (july16)

20. Another interesting one was when Nicholas Baptiste signed a two-way deal with the Sabres. He has to clear waivers and I was having trouble fitting him into the Buffalo lineup. He played 33 games for the Sabres last year but the team is significantly more crowded this time around. And I think he’s behind Justin Bailey in terms of the depth chart – Bailey also has to clear to be sent down, is also a right shot, is bigger (6-3, 214) and was drafted higher (52nd overall versus 69th overall) and I think those things make a difference when teams prioritize who they want to see succeed more. And soon after I wrote the above blurb, Bailey signs and it’s a two-way contract. So, he’s in the same boat as Baptiste. (july16)

Have a good week, folks!!

from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-home/20-fantasy-hockey-thoughts/20-fantasy-hockey-thoughts-33/

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parabcllums · 5 years

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⌜ STELLA MAEVE, CIS FEMALE, SHE / HER | power by bastille, choleric, the sacrificial lamb ⌟ ⏤ blink and you’ll miss VICTORIA CREED, the TWENTY SEVEN year old daughter of VICTOR CREED / LOGAN HOWLETT & SILVER FOX ! they’re an UNDERGRAD student at paragon academy, and i’ve always found them to be pretty INTUITIVE & METICULOUS, though i’ve heard that they can also be really CALCULATING & RUTHLESS. i don’t think getting their way is a smart thing to do - everyone knows that their ability is CLAW RETRACTION, REGENERATIVE HEALING FACTOR & ENHANCED SENSES. redirect HERE for her stat page and HERE to her pinterest board.

and THREATS are just PROMISES you actually WANT to keep.

BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warnings for kidnapping, death, blood, child abuse / neglect, child molestation, incest / pedophillia, murder, sexual assault. it’s EXPLICIT, but i tried to be so without getting into the nitty gritty.

no one who would have mattered ever knew about her. with what victor did, to the body… identifying SILVER FOX was hard enough. no one knew she had been with child, and it was sort of perfect, for victor. in this baby he saw an opportunity for a RECKONING of logan’s OWN MAKING. of course she had to survive, first, and he was lucky that her mutation kickstarted as she came into the world - without rapid healing, the preterm and soon christened victoria creed would have died before she could ever have been utilized. she survived, and no body was looking for her, and with a whole life ahead of her in which she could be molded, victor found himself a WEAPON.

she learned other lessons, too. victoria was an investment. she was a long term sort of thing - and treated her more as such than he did a loved daughter, like an actually LOVING FATHER might have. eventually, she would be used to hurt the very people that she SHOULD have cared for. that meant when she was growing, she needed to learn to be a KILLER. her earliest memories, outside of the LONELINESS, are of the metallic taste of warm blood - hunting trips deep into the forest surrounding the cabin, where she was shoved towards mountain lions and grizzlies that would either KILL or be KILLED. he always watched. watched, but never helped - and when she succeeded in toppling the beast, her reward was not words of praise, but an attack of a DIFFERENT kind upon her body. forced to lie in the blood of her woodland victims, forced to stay still with a crushing weight atop her, a PUSHING inside and out of her that was worse than ANY blade.

for too long, she was too young to understand that this was not the way in which normal fathers loved their daughters. they did not rip their children apart, body and mind. they weren’t forced to KILL, or beaten until they could land a GOOD PUNCH, or forced to lie there and face the heavy breathing in her ear and the shaky release that only ever made HER feel more WRONG.

he never did care for her. as she got older and began to understand certain things more and more, victoria knew that the neglect, the abuse, the nights when he invaded her bed - they were WRONG. but they were all that she had ever known, and in a way that only children of abuse can understand, she did BELIEVE that he cared. that was why she always did as he said. it was why she never questioned him, when he pointed one way and told her to KILL. LOYALTY. it forms in unlikely places, and it does so with strength that’s hard to break. a mutant in LA during a hand related deal put his hand on victoria’s ass, once, and victor didn’t blink as he ripped that man’s arm right out of his socket. nevermind that months later, he would leave her in tokyo alone for six months. nevermind that he tried to murder her when she was thirteen because she didn’t want to hurt a girl that was close in age to HER. nevermind that three years after that, she spent nine months a prisoner in YEMEN, all so she could kill someone on the INSIDE that victor wanted gone. NEVERMIND that the only reason he sought retribution during that deal gone wrong was snarled into her ear as she lay face down that night ; because she was HIS. because she always WOULD be.

she’s loyal to him, because at the end of the day, the life that he’s given her is the only one she’s ever HAD.

#⌜ ･ﾟ × ･ * she became the bad part of town ― biography. ⌟ / creed.

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newstfionline · 7 years

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Trump’s Volatility in Asia Distresses a Longtime U.S. Ally: Australia

By Damien Cave, NY Times, May 1, 2017

DARWIN, Australia--South Korea, Japan and the United States have grown accustomed to North Korea’s diatribes, but Pyongyang recently threatened a new target with a nuclear strike: Australia.

During a visit by Vice President Mike Pence to Sydney, the North warned Australia to think twice about “blindly and zealously toeing the U.S. line” and acting as “a shock brigade of the U.S. master.”

Australian and American troops have fought side by side in every major conflict since World War I, and there are few militaries in the world with closer relations: 1,250 United States Marines recently arrived in Darwin for six months of joint exercises; the two countries share intelligence from land, sea and even outer space; and Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull is slated to meet President Trump on Thursday on an aircraft carrier in New York.

But North Korea’s threat against the country, far-fetched as it might seem, is an example of how Australia’s most important military alliance faces a new challenge: the risk that President Trump will draw the nation into a conflict or other unexpected crisis that destabilizes the region, angers its trading partners or forces it to side with either the United States or China.

“The question is: What might America drag Australia into?” said Ashley Townshend, a research fellow at the United States Studies Center at the University of Sydney. “That’s a very scary thought for Australians, many of whom perceive Donald Trump to be an erratic and highly self-interested commander in chief.”

Mr. Trump has already embarrassed Australia once, with an abrupt phone call to Mr. Turnbull that seemed to dismiss Australia’s historic role as a friend who often gives more than it gets. Now his unpredictable approach is fueling a national debate about Australia’s relationship with the world, and especially the United States. Last week, Paul Keating, a prime minister during the Clinton years, reignited discussion by arguing that Australia must end its status as a “client state.”

Australia is essentially caught between two powers: China, its largest trading partner, and the United States, its faithful ally, with a military connection that has been strengthened by the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and more recent agreements to gradually expand the American footprint in Darwin.

What Australia and the United States are now trying to work out is how to manage that military momentum in an increasingly tense part of the world. If the military is a hammer in the Trump era, at what point does every dispute start to look like a nail?

“It’s always important that there’s a balance between the military and the diplomatic--because of the scale of the military,” Mr. Keating said in an interview. “In both economic terms and in strategic terms, they squeeze diplomacy out.”

Darwin, a humid, crocodile-infested coastal city at the northern end of this vast country, captures the past, present and future of Australia’s alliance with the United States.

Japan attacked the city on Feb. 19, 1942, killing 235 people, and residents are quick to point out that the raids were led by the same commander responsible for the attack on Pearl Harbor 10 weeks earlier.

Within a few months, Darwin became a hub for counterstrikes from bombers flown by Americans. A pocket guide for arriving American troops set the tone: “You’re going to meet a people who like Americans and whom you will like.”

During the Cold War, the relationship expanded.

Kim Beazley, a former defense minister and ambassador to the United States, cited the rise during the 1960s of three joint installations to maintain contact with American submarines in the Indian Ocean and provide infrared detection of Soviet capabilities, increasing the warning time for a potential Soviet strike to 30 minutes from 15.

Those installations and the ones that followed--especially Pine Gap, a joint Australian-American spy base that helps provide battlefield intelligence and early warnings for missile launches around the world--”are never talked about, but they’re really the guts of the alliance,” Mr. Beazley said.

On the ground in countries like Iraq and Afghanistan, Australian troops are also peers in battle, said Lt. Col. Brian S. Middleton, commanding officer of the Third Battalion, Fourth Marines--the American unit that just moved into Darwin for six months of training with the Australians.

As part of the American pivot to Asia, the long-term plan, negotiated under the Obama administration, is to send up to 2,500 Marines to Darwin--the largest deployment of United States forces to Australia since World War II. “It’ll make us more effective in whatever conflict we end up serving in together,” said Kelly Magsamen, the Pentagon’s top Asia-Pacific policy official at the end of the Obama administration.

Other American officials said that in space, missile defense and cyberwarfare, the Australians are all in. Australia is working with the United States to relocate a special radar that helps better track satellites. The Australian military is also making a big push in innovation in undersea warfare and drones in the air and underwater.

And in many cases, that means purchases of American equipment. An Australian defense planning report last year laid out a $20 billion increase in the annual military budget by 2025, including money for fighter jets, surveillance technology, submarines, surface ships and other equipment.

Australians are embedded at every level of the American military. Australian Air Commodore Phillip Champion’s story is common: He first worked with the Americans as a young pilot in the early ‘80s, flying surveillance aircraft, and later as a commander all over the world, including Afghanistan.

“We’ve grown up together,” he said in an interview by phone from Hawaii, where he has been posted to the United States Pacific Command since January. “We trust each other and know we can operate together.”

Still, there have been challenges. In a discussion last year about the cost of the Marines in Darwin, the Australians came in with a data-heavy presentation asserting that United States Marines eat more than typical Australian soldiers, and therefore strain sewage systems more, and argued that the Americans should pay more of the costs of improving wastewater lines on military bases. The proposal stunned even the lead Australian negotiators, who quickly dropped it, according to American defense officials.

The toughest issues have involved China, the crucial lever of influence with North Korea and the region. Some American officials have urged Australia to engage in robust freedom-of-navigation operations in the South China Sea, where China has set up bases on disputed islands, but the Australians have resisted.

Last year, American officials also expressed alarm about a port in Darwin that local officials leased to a Chinese company for $361 million, possibly making it easier to collect intelligence on American and Australian forces stationed nearby.

“China is the elephant in the room for both of us,” Ms. Magsamen said. “We need to have a more frank and structured discussion amongst ourselves about how to manage that relationship.”

Allan Gyngell, who ran Australia’s intelligence agency from 2009 to 2013, argues in a new book, “Fear of Abandonment,” that Australia’s foreign policy is still driven by worries about being left isolated, without the promise of security from a powerful friend: first Britain, now the United States.

Mr. Keating, the former prime minister, is among those urging a more independent foreign policy in which Australia accepts China as the region’s dominant power.

In the discussion last week at the Lowy Institute, a think tank in Sydney, Mr. Keating said Australia should say no to the United States more often--as France and Canada do--especially on issues that affect Australia’s relationship with China.

Those who reject this argument include John Howard, the prime minister who followed Mr. Keating and was in Washington on Sept. 11, 2001. In an interview at his modest office, with worn carpets and military memorabilia, Mr. Howard warned against being “mesmerized by China” and said his Liberal Party, which is the more conservative of the country’s two largest parties, had “pulled off the daily double.”

“We deepened our relationship with the U.S.--and China became our biggest customer,” he said.

He added that too many Australians were jumping to conclusions about President Trump. “He’s different,” Mr. Howard said. “Whether he’s good different or bad different is not the point; the world has to get used to him.”

In Darwin too, there are divisions. Luke Bowen, who heads an economic development agency for the Northern Territory, which includes Darwin, would like to see even more American troops and equipment move in to the area, possibly from the Philippines.

“It’s a priority for us to make the fit as comfortable as possible,” he said. “It’s not just about the Australian presence. It’s about the combined presence.”

But Justin Tutty, who works with a watchdog group that monitors the impact of the American Marines, said he was worried about “a one-sided relationship” in which the Americans lay out the priorities.

“The overinvestment in ‘interoperability’ ties us closer to our larger foreign partner’s attack formation, and reduces our capacity to act, relate and think independently,” he said.

Last week for Anzac Day, commemorating Australians and New Zealanders who died in battle, American Marines and Australian soldiers marched through Darwin’s streets together. Later, there were friendly games of rugby, and infantrymen shared war stories.

“The Australians have been fighting in the same places we’ve fought for over 100 years,” said Colonel Middleton of the Marines. “When we operate with the Australians, we learn as much from them as they learn from us.”

#Australia #US-Australia relations #Port of Darwin

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johnbattlesca · 7 years

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Split Second Survival, Part 1: Reality-Based Knife Defense as Taught by Larry Wick

If you think Split Second Survival, the brand of gun and knife defense being propagated by Larry Wick, is just another modern martial art or self-defense course, you couldn’t be more off-base.

Wick, a veteran instructor and high-ranked tang soo do black belt, has a unique way of dealing with two of the most feared street weapons, and he’s on a mission to share it with the world. The Fairbanks, Alaska-based instructor believes that most of what’s being taught in blade- and firearm-defense courses is not just ineffective; it’s fatally flawed.

Dr. Mark Cheng (left) and Larry Wick

“Split Second Survival is about looking at some of the ugliest possible situations and finding the most effective way out,” Larry Wick says. “In most instances, people are unarmed, uneducated about real weapon defense and unprepared for multiple-attacker situations. Our focus is educating them on some of the options that will help them survive.”

Wick is so passionate about his system that he’s willing to go to extremes to prove its validity. For evidence, take a look at his Live Fire DVD. (Do Not Try What You See!) On the disc, Wick uses real guns with real ammo to illustrate the shortcomings of popular self-defense techniques.

In one instance, he fires a pistol next to, but not pointed at, a mannequin head to show the damage that can be caused by the blast that emanates from the muzzle of a firearm. In another demo, he tries a common defense that entails grabbing the slide of a semiautomatic handgun to stop it from cycling — and promptly slices open his own hand. “There are some things we can get away with in the wilderness that I wouldn’t even think of doing anywhere else,” he admits.

Are you ready to start your education in combatives self-defense for both empty-hand attacks and weapons attacks? Check out Kelly McCann’s introductory course! Go here to sign up.

According to the animated Alaskan, eight tenets form the soul of Split Second Survival:

• Never focus on the weapon. • Always move forward. • Make sure any technique accounts for the possibility of multiple attackers. • Avoid committing both hands to a move. • Never use strength against strength. • Don’t intentionally go to the ground. • Forget kicks, punches, locks, sweeps and throws. • Complete all techniques in one second or less.

My introduction to Split Second Survival starts with Larry Wick decked out in street clothes. “If your self-defense training only works when you’re in a uniform, in bare feet, on a matted surface or in any other contrived situation, it’s going to be a liability when your life is on the line,” he tells me.

Wick then picks up a training knife and asks me to place it against his throat. To up the ante, he has me grab his jacket so I can press the blade into his flesh with more force. He challenges me to “cut” him as soon as I feel him try to attack, defend, escape or otherwise move.

The look on his face remains gentle — until he delivers the killing stroke. Faster than you can say “Split Second Survival,” he cuts my wrist with my own blade, off-balances me and finishes me with a potentially lethal wound to the throat. It all goes down before I can mount a meaningful attack, with the knife or otherwise. I think, OK, it was a random fluke that won’t happen again.

“Not convinced?” Larry Wick asks. “Let’s try again.” This time, he narrates his way through the same motions. Physically, there’s a uniqueness in his system, and I’m beginning to feel it.

The newest release from combatives authority Kelly McCann and Black Belt is titled Kelly McCann Combatives 2: Stick & Ground Combat. It’s a streaming-video course you can watch on your digital device. Click here to watch the trailer and then sign up.

True to his tenets, Wick shoots his gaze from side to side as though he’s searching for accomplices. His eyes aren’t fixed on the threat — it’s like he’s looking right past me — but I know he’s got the blade and everything else in his peripheral vision. He explains that if he locks his eyes on me or the weapon, I’ll be able to sense what he’s going to do by watching his line of sight change. He’s right — I’ve used that same awareness in sparring.

Less-experienced martial artists often telegraph their moves by changing their focal point from one body part to another. That’s why some coaches have their fighters look at their opponent’s sternum, which keeps all four limbs in peripheral view. In one-on-one sparring, that works fine, but in a street fight, there’s the X-factor of multiple opponents.

“You almost never know for sure if you’re dealing with just one person or five people in a street fight,” Larry Wick says. “So your eyes have to be constantly taking in information about your surroundings without looking anxious. You can’t do that if you’re staring at the assailant’s chest or eyes. If you’re dealing with multiple assailants, the guy closest to you is only one of many, so your brain needs to be able to take in information on all of them, or at least as many as possible.”

Wick looks relaxed, and his eyes aren’t focused on me or the blade. It’s as if he’s casually looking through a store to see if anything catches his interest.

He’s messing with my mind, distorting my perception of what’s going on. Like a sleight-of-hand expert, Wick has set up everything so I don’t react in time. His loose gaze is mentally disarming, his body is relaxed and his movements are almost completely counter to what you’d expect in a situation like this. Everything in Split Second Survival seems to fit a dual purpose. Not only are there physics-based and strategic rationales for doing what he’s doing but psychological and neurological reasons, as well. This is clearly high-level stuff.

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None of his motions are jerky, and it’s difficult to perceive any muscular tension. For someone without tactile-sensitivity training, picking up on his movements and reacting in time to cut him or shoot him is next to impossible. Every touch, every movement in Split Second Survival is designed to elicit minimal response from the opponent. Few if any moves rely on speed or strength.

“If I have to be athletic, strong or fast to pull off this stuff, that severely limits the audience to which this body of knowledge applies,” Larry Wick says. “On top of that, if I am able to move in that fashion, what sort of response will those movements get from an attacker? You’ll actually improve his performance by heightening his awareness and causing him to focus more intently on killing you.”

Wick prepares to demonstrate how the softness and continuity of his motions don’t set off that little red warning light in my brain. From the same my-knife-to-his-throat starting point, he executes a similar escape but in a tense, jerky fashion that’s like what you’d expect from other self-defense systems. The alarms in my head sound, and I cut his throat and wrist with ease. The next time, he goes soft, and his movements are over and done with before my brain has a chance to respond. Had it been a real knife, I’d be bleeding everywhere.

“If I try to jerk the blade away, slap your arm away or do anything remotely fast, what’s your reaction going to be?” Larry Wick asks. “You go faster, track better and get more amped up. If I move with tension and jerkiness, it escalates the situation.

“Now, what if I’m so relaxed and moving with so little muscular force that you can barely perceive that I’m moving? You’re going to react more slowly because my movement isn’t registering as a threat until it’s already over. That’s why we use the two-finger grip and a relaxed hand.”

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The Split Second Survival two-finger grip ties into Larry Wick’s soft-touch methodology. It employs the fourth and fifth fingers as the primary contact points. “By using the two weakest fingers in the hand, you minimize the use of strength against the attacker,” he claims. That tends to reduce the advance notice. Coupled with a relaxed or detached expression, it keeps the attacker from discerning your intentions.

When Wick demonstrates again, I pay close attention to the quality of his movement and his touch. The muscles in his hand are relaxed to the point of real softness. He doesn’t have any tension in the two fingers that hold my wrist. They’re merely a means of making a connection and of sensing and guiding my motion. It’s eerie. By the time I realize the grizzled Alaskan is moving, he’s once again cut my wrist, disarmed me and run the training blade across my carotid.

(In Part 2, Larry Wick will address Split Second Survival’s take on gun defense.)

Dr. Mark Cheng is a traditional Chinese-medicine physician and martial arts researcher based in Southern California. Visit his website here.

Photos by Rick Hustead

from Black Belt» Daily » Black Belt http://www.blackbeltmag.com/daily/self-defense-training/split-second-survival-part-1-reality-based-knife-defense-as-taught-by-larry-wick/ Split Second Survival, Part 1: Reality-Based Knife Defense as Taught by Larry Wick published first on http://thrandythefabulous.tumblr.com

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michaelchinworcester · 7 years

Text

Split Second Survival, Part 1: Reality-Based Knife Defense as Taught by Larry Wick

If you think Split Second Survival, the brand of gun and knife defense being propagated by Larry Wick, is just another modern martial art or self-defense course, you couldn’t be more off-base.

Dr. Mark Cheng (left) and Larry Wick

Are you ready to start your education in combatives self-defense for both empty-hand attacks and weapons attacks? Check out Kelly McCann’s introductory course! Go here to sign up.

According to the animated Alaskan, eight tenets form the soul of Split Second Survival:

Wick looks relaxed, and his eyes aren’t focused on me or the blade. It’s as if he’s casually looking through a store to see if anything catches his interest.

(In Part 2, Larry Wick will address Split Second Survival’s take on gun defense.)

Dr. Mark Cheng is a traditional Chinese-medicine physician and martial arts researcher based in Southern California. Visit his website here.

Photos by Rick Hustead

from Black Belt» Daily » Black Belt http://ift.tt/2lNeOSS via Michael Chin Worcester Systema

#Michael Chin Worcester #Mass Bay Systema #Systema #Russian Martial Art #martial arts #kung fu #black

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thrandythefabulous · 7 years

Text

Split Second Survival, Part 1: Reality-Based Knife Defense as Taught by Larry Wick

If you think Split Second Survival, the brand of gun and knife defense being propagated by Larry Wick, is just another modern martial art or self-defense course, you couldn’t be more off-base.

Dr. Mark Cheng (left) and Larry Wick

Are you ready to start your education in combatives self-defense for both empty-hand attacks and weapons attacks? Check out Kelly McCann’s introductory course! Go here to sign up.

According to the animated Alaskan, eight tenets form the soul of Split Second Survival:

Wick looks relaxed, and his eyes aren’t focused on me or the blade. It’s as if he’s casually looking through a store to see if anything catches his interest.

(In Part 2, Larry Wick will address Split Second Survival’s take on gun defense.)

Dr. Mark Cheng is a traditional Chinese-medicine physician and martial arts researcher based in Southern California. Visit his website here.

Photos by Rick Hustead

from Black Belt» Daily » Black Belt http://www.blackbeltmag.com/daily/self-defense-training/split-second-survival-part-1-reality-based-knife-defense-as-taught-by-larry-wick/

#Martial Arts #Black Belt» Daily » Black Belt #Self-Defense #best martial arts #martial arts clas

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