d3bbs he9zf 69khn 4k32h 3eksf nda4e b67d7 knak9 hf9yr nk5da a5eki n4rrs ysisz e59fe 9rk9a 4knys nyhy8 y829k dy6ra sy6r5 arhkn Saw this van in the zoo parking lot |

Saw this van in the zoo parking lot

2022.01.22 19:04 Von_Kissenburg Saw this van in the zoo parking lot

Saw this van in the zoo parking lot submitted by Von_Kissenburg to SweetVans [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 foreverwarrenpeace Tyler, The Creator photographed at the Louis Vuitton show

Tyler, The Creator photographed at the Louis Vuitton show submitted by foreverwarrenpeace to tylerthecreator [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 SeismicSpore [SELLING]Come check out our shop, ALL grain products are made to order and we ship 6 days a week to guarantee the absolute freshest spawn! Check comments for product list all prices include priority tracked shipping! LINK TO OUR ETSY SHOP IS IN PROFILE!! Gourmet use only, US Only

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2022.01.22 19:04 NoticeTheShadow Comment aller mieux (la psy n’a pas aidé)

[F,17] Je suis au lycée, bonne élève, j’ai de bons amis, et une famille qui à part le divorce de mes parents est stable. Mais malgré tout ça, ça ne vas pas du tout. Ça a commencé quand j’avais 7 ans : quand mes parents ont divorcé. Je suis déjà allée voir trois psy depuis que j’ai 8 ans et ça n’a rien changé.
Il y a plusieurs raison. - [ ] Déjà, cette année je suis en terminale et la charge de travail est énorme. J’ai toujours été bosseuse mais là même pour moi c’est à la limite du supportable. Je finis tous les jours à 18h, j’ai cours le samedi, et je suis obligée de faire mes devoirs jusqu’à tard le soir parce que j’en ai beaucoup du jour pour le lendemain. Je déteste vraiment l’école, ça me met une pression monstrueuse. Et mon père qui a glandé pendant tout son lycée se permet de me faire des remarques sur mon travail, et rien que d’y penser ça me donne envie de pleurer. J’ai une peur viscérale de l’échec. Quand j’ai une note que je juge pas bonne je ne peux pas l’empêcher de pleurer. Je suis hypersensible et il me faut un rien pour que ça parte, je déteste ça.

Voilà les plus gros problèmes. J’ose parler de ça à personne, même si je suis très proche de mes amies. Comme dit plus haut, les psy n’ont pas aidé, donc si vous avez des conseils je suis preneuse. J’en ai marre de pleurer chaque soir. J’ai juste envie que ça s’arrête. Tant qu’à tout dire : je pense me suicider l’an prochain après avoir laissé le temps à ma mère de s’habituer à moins me voir puisque je serai en chambre étudiante/appart. Parce que je suis arrivée à la conclusion que je n’aime pas la vie.
submitted by NoticeTheShadow to besoindeparler [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 Logic_Sandwich JoJo's Bizarre OC Tournament #6 - Round 1 Match Select

The winner of Round 0 Match 1 is Elliot, with a score of 70 to Finni’s 67!
Category Winner Points Comments
Popularity Elliot 14 (8.5+2)-16 (9.5+2) Incredible turnout!
Quality Finni 20 (6 7 7)-19 (6 7 6) Delibs
JoJolity Elliot 23 (8 8 7)-25 (9 8 8) Delibs
Conduct Tie 10-10 Keepin' it classy!
Down. Down. The cold, murky water swallowed Finni as she was dragged into the depths, seawater clogging her nose and burning her eyes. She struggled with all her might, thrashing and kicking as his hands grabbed blindly for purchase, but the hooks' pull was inexorable—she was powerless against the full weight of the Mediterranean Sea growing ever darker before her eyes.
It was decidedly not in the spirit of Tag.
But suddenly, there was a surging of water beneath him, and with a thunderous crack the ocean above his face tore apart like paper. Finni gasped wildly for breath, coughing and spluttering and struggling instinctively for several seconds against the blue and gold arms that ripped him from the ocean’s maw; then, he flopped like a soggy ragdoll as he was carried back to the safety of the ship.
“Of course I heard the fight,” Savvas groused as he picked a fluffy blue scarf from around his shoulder, sounding thoroughly displeased with the whole affair, “Thunder couldn’t drown out the sound of the two of you. You’ve left me with a headache and a half to deal with fixing all this.”
“I apologize for the trouble,” Elliot replied, perfectly straight-faced as he passed a side glance towards the bedraggled, dripping heap on the deck, “I’m sure this youth has more than learned her lesson.”
“Hm.” Savvas scowled. (Though was that a smile he was fighting on the corner of his lips?) “Well, I have some calls to make and a shipment to make up for. I’d say that gives both of you about three minutes to get, before I think about chopping you up as fish food for the trouble.” His voice rose abruptly to a loud bark. “Out! Out with both of you! I’m getting too old for this.”
As Elliot turned to go, his sharp ears picked out Savvas’s voice from behind. “Send clean up to the main port; the Keraunos has been compromised, but I took care of it…No, I was not looking for a last minute suit.”
Scenario: Athens, Greece — 4:36 PM
The day of the Olympus Gala had arrived, and the guests had come aplenty—the fact that there was space for everyone to move was either a miracle, or excellent planning, depending on who you asked. Many had come to attend: tech companies, emergency services, food chains, plumbers, artists of all kinds. The harborfront combined indoor and outdoor space, jazz music ringing out across the shore. Even the small army of security guards stationed around the locale couldn’t disrupt the atmosphere of the Gala.
Near the entrance, a woman in silver suit dress walked throughout the crowd, flashing a near-fake smile many attendees might have recognised. Mikayla was looking for her boss. Gataki noticed his Secretary heading over and politely finished his conversation with some of the guests. “Good afternoon, Mika.”
“Good afternoon sir,” Mikayla responded, adjusting her hair further over her left eye. “The guests are arriving in droves: Torr–er–Limewire’s looking at the other entrance, said security’s been working nonstop. Hiring the extra help has definitely been worth it.”
“I see. So, how are our boats doing?”
“Well, the CS Keraunos has recovered from the ransacking of the other day. Somehow. That they picked one of our ships to attack is concerning, but from reports, they had little planned.”
Gataki nodded, a sigh escaping his mouth. “I don’t know how Savvas manages to deal with this. Hell, I’m not sure I could deal with it.”
“Listen,” Mika responded reassuringly. “You’re underestimating how great a man you are. I mean, look at you, one of the top few of the Mediterranean’s most respectable shipping companies and…well, you know I would stay by your side through it all.”
A faint smile cropped up on Gataki’s face. “Thanks, Mika…so, what about the other ships?”
Standing off to the side, Neon sighed. The conversation wasn’t coming up with anything meaningful to jot down. He and Diane had managed to get close enough to the top two of Agoreaus’ Greek branch and they were just talking business. Where’s the juicy stuff? His partner in ‘crime’ sighed, but didn’t say anything—keeping an ear on the conversation, she absentmindedly assessed the rest of the Gala.
But Neon was impatient. “Fucking dammnit, why are we doing this again? We could be investigating in any better way, but no, we’re listening to bloody statistics.”
“Because you wanted to do something different than taking care of MarkHARVEST with the other three,” Diane pointed out, “and didn’t want to go with Deimos to whomever he was meeting here.”
Neon groaned. Those four were probably having a better time than him: even playing Uno with Knowing what ruckus could happen if he went into Flow, Diane found just the right distraction: “You wanna get something to eat?”
“Hoo boy I do! That’ll definitely be better than this!” Neon sprung up, racing over to the nearest food table. Diane sighed, and started to catch up. She wondered how the other two were doing…
“So, have you any idea what he looks like?” Deimos questioned Rocco as they walked among the guests: Rocco knew of someone within the Mediterranean who might have info that the Coleccionistas de Karma would benefit from in their investigations, and this individual would be attending the Gala tonight.
Rocco shrugged. “Not really,” he admitted. “People back in The Golliwogs sometimes mentioned him as the one who held the most knowledge of the region. Never got to know how true that is, but this Cullinan fella and his group sound like the real deal.”
“The House of Muses huh,” Deimos pondered, before turning back to Rocco. “You sound a bit agitated.”
Rocco huffed. “Can’t punch the security. I mean come on!” he complained.
Deimos sighed, but could see where his ally was coming from. “I understand, but that’s why we can’t afford to get ourselves kicked out: this is quite the opportunity, so we can’t afford to squander it. With all the paperwork, it was a real pain to get into the Gala.”
“I wasn’t planning on coming,” Echo shrugged, shooting another restless glance out over the crowd, “I was tailing someone shady and they came in here. The person at the door just flipped a coin and waved me through.”
Ravee snorted. “Security here is a joke,” She muttered, casting a side-eye to Valentine, “How much do you think they get paid?”
“Huh?” Valentine blinked, spinning round so fast they almost spilled their daiquiri over Eshe (who just barely leapt back in time to avoid the crimson droplets). “Loads, probably! Hey—where’s Jerry? I know he was with us when we came in!”
“I tried to stop him,” Haru sighed, “He just tore off. Something about letting the management know we’re here.”
“Wait,” Nadine tore herself away from her hushed chatter with another attendee, her eyes widening with horror, “I didn’t know we were performing!”
“We’re not.” Haru’s gaze continued to scan restlessly across the crowd as he listened intently to the chatter lilting back and forth. It stopped in its tracks as it fell upon a brightly bejeweled figure who had squarely inserted herself into a conversation between a security guard and a thoroughly lost-looking tradesman in a sharp suit. “Wait—Finni-nni-nni?
“Huh,” Nadine shaded her brow to look, setting her other hand on her hip, “Then I guess that makes all of us.”
“Brill!” Eshe grinned, drawing out her phone and waggling her fingers, “So what I’m hearing is, social media group shot?”
“Do we have to?” Ravee grumbled.
“You know I came here to…” Echo trailed off, with one last look out over the crowd—but her target was already lost in the sea. “Meh,” She set her weight back, passing a resigned smile to her teammate, “Well, one shot can’t hurt, right?”
“Absolutely useless,” Jerry muttered, shaking his head as he elbowed his way through the crowd towards Valentine with a fresh coffee in hand (where did he even get that here?), “The event organizers have no idea what they’re talking about. I–WHAH!”
By hook or by crook, the entire group was pulled together, and as Eshe stuck out the camera, most of them attempted a smile. The picture came out crisp and clear, all of them resplendent in their Gala finery and the end result as it flashed up on the Instagram timeline was vivacious and bright.
But a passer-by seemed to have found her way into the corner of the shot. While many of the outfits present tonight could be described as ostentatious or even gaudy, the dark-skinned woman in the background was in a league of her own. Her long strapless dress reached to the floor, the torso a dark orange and covered with a blue shawl embroidered with golden thread. She wore a golden hair piece shaped like a halo in her curly brown hair and a pair of sunglasses with red lenses. Most ostentatiously, the white skirt portion of her dress was covered with prints of Renaissance paintings – and they were moving, LED lights sewn into the fabric animating the angels and clouds in exquisite detail.
“Who’s that?” Valentine wondered loudly, craning their neck over Eshe’s shoulder and squinting down at the tiny screen while the brightly shimmering woman passed directly behind them.
“Tacky,” Ravee snorted, wishing she could drink.
With a drink in his hand and a smile on his face, Frederick Loverman surveyed the gala floor with military precision. He had already picked out a few potential subordinates–allies in the crowd outside when his motley crew made their entrance. Inside the gala was a whole different story; like a charcuterie board to a full-spread buffet. So many interesting people, so little time…
The other agents of MC mingled in their own ways. The trio of Dirty Ghost, Marissa Novaya and Marione, outwardly the politician’s bodyguards, had positioned themselves in a rough triangle with him in the center. Marissa was in the process of pitching her skillset to a group of beefy people in suits to mixed results. Leaning against a wall with a cigarette in its mouth, Dirty kept an eye on Frederick, only stopping to glare at anyone who tried to point out the “No Smoking” signs nearby. As for Marione…she was standing stock-still in the middle of the floor, staring at the party-goers as she slowly chewed on an hors d'oeuvre. Frederick overheard her muttering something about “Chrysalis” and “autographs”.
“It’s a shame that Elliot couldn’t make it tonight,” came a smooth voice over his shoulder. Izuru emerged from the crowd, smoothly lifting an unsupervised drink from a table as he sauntered towards Frederick. “It would have been interesting to see how he responded to this new environment.”
Frederick thought the staff would throw Elliot out the second he stepped foot inside, but he held his tongue and nodded. “Indeed. Speaking of, do you have any thoughts on the night so far?”
Sipping his stolen drink, Izuru gazed out into the gala. “It’s like…listening to an overture. Everyone’s waiting for the curtains to be drawn, so they’re keeping their voices to a whisper. The performance only begins once the main actor enters the stage.”
“I see,” Frederick lied. The conversation going nowhere fast, he turned to his colleague to salvage it, except– “Where’s Jamir?”
Jamir had ditched him the second they came through the doors. For the first time in a while, he was off the leash, and he was itching to make some deals. At a place like this, everyone had something valuable to trade; he just had to find the right price. He slunk through the crowds, slipping between people until he saw a table where a stocky woman in a long black and gold cloak and a man in a full suit of golden armor speaking in what he could loosely tell was Croatian. A smile slowly crept across his face. “Looks like we have some neighbors here.”
Jamir crept forward, racking his brain for any organizations he had heard about in the region. If he could get to them before Frederick knew about them he could get significant value out of these people. He was mere feet away when he felt a hand clamp onto each of his shoulders. Two large guards looked down to meet his eyes, starting to drag him away from his marks. Unphased by this, he did what he did best: “Ah, gentlemen. I see no reason for you to drag me away. I’m sure there is something you want that can gain me access to your…”
The man looked annoyed at Jamir as he was dragged away. “So many disruptions. Why couldn't you bring one of the others, Bolormaa. If the boss doesn't have to show up, why should I?”
The woman took a sip of her wine before looking sternly at her associate. “Because your product is popular and as much as you may hate it, networking at events like this makes us money. I would also remind you to curb your insolence, Montero. I may not be the boss, but I will not suffer the whining of a spoiled child. Striga respects Savvas, but they are not friends and she has never cared for his events.”
“How can you enjoy yourself with such boring people anyways.” Montero grunted. “Based on the low quality garbage some of these people have been trying to peddle, we won't have much competition this year.”
Bolormaa stood up and scoffed at him before walking off to find some better conversation. “Remember that not long ago you were one of the new faces. I would hazard a guess that there are at least a few individuals here that will either make us or hinder us greatly. As far as we know that young man could make us as much capital as you.”
She turned away from her associate and walked towards Jamir, waving off the guards before addressing him in heavily accented English. “I apologize for my associate's behavior, my young friend. If you would like to talk then I am here. What do you want?”
Jamir brushed himself off before meeting her shrewd gaze with his own. “No. The real question is what do you want?”
“I am incredibly sorry for your loss, Gaston,” Lance Barodusol placed a large hand on his ‘nephew’s’ shoulder. While many of the Gala’s attendees were gaudily dressed, most of the Barodusol clan wore black—mourning the passing of their patriarch, but as his widower, Etoile put it through flatten lips, ‘celebrating his legacy and company.’
“Uhhhh, no prob, uncle. I’m sure he’s in a better place now.” Zack murmured, before popping a canapé into his mouth.
Lance nodded. “Well, nephew, you must be right; you and Funes share his joie de vivre in a way that no one could ever emulate.”
“Hell yeah they do!” 「Incoming」 slapped Zack on the back and yanked him from Lance’s avuncular embrace with an arm slung around his shoulder, almost making him drop his plate of hors d'oeuvres. “Speaking of, Ja—” Zack elbowed her in the ribs. “Funes’s cooking has this cheap finger food beat by a long shot.”
Lance opened his mouth to agree, but at the sight of Parhelion, he scrambled after her, trying to flag ‘the butler’ so that they could read out the will, only for all of Antiquity Row to drift back into the party yet again. “Do think of me!” he called after them haplessly.
Tucked away from the rest of the party, Stephanie tittered softly at the familial antics. “Enjoying the party, Miss Anderson?” Winona asked. Stephanie nodded.
The Blue Phoenixes were posted up in a quieter part of the convention center. Not their usual recruiting ground, but they were open to see what sort they would run into. “I’ll get you another drink,” Noisia offered, kicking off of the wall. The softness of her voice contrasted with her no-nonsense glare as she walked to the bar, scanning the floor.
She should have gotten a better vantage point.
No matter how Franky and Evan got onto the convention center roof, the Four Tops were looking to pull off the heist of the night, everyone else, even their teammates unaware of their schemes. “You see anything to steal?” Evan groaned.
Franky continued to peer down over the party, foot thumping in anticipation as he continued to scan. “Just gotta wait for a distraction.”
A certain Monkey was also hoping for a distraction. AmaGappa did not know how he got into the Gala—but given he saw a smartly dressed dog earlier, the disguise he brought might not have been needed. As he weaved towards his target, nobody seemed to notice the monkey in full suit and Groucho glasses heading straight towards the food table.
Passing him, Neptunia strolled across the Gala. She had come for the same reason as most of the other members of Anvil Procession—though she was more reluctant with Electra staying behind. The former skating star just didn’t feel like going, and even if she did, her suspected ties to AP as well as her crimes in Morocco were more trouble than she thought it was worth.
Behind Neptunia followed Lucy and Brandy, having split up from the others to cover more ground as the organization seeked business opportunities to expand their brand’s reach and influence. They had also split up with Tōgō, who wanted to scout out competition and other employment options. Brandy sighed—it would only make Nep absolutely lose it if she did leave, and they didn’t really need her killing anyone tonight.
Jethro and Lanscilo were doing the same: looking to meet people who could benefit Anvil. That didn’t stop the latter from being disappointed—today he was planning on introducing himself to the world as Snow Halation, but the security was just too much for it to be worth it. He looked back at Jethro. “So, anyone stand out to you?”
The construction worker sighed. “Not really. It’s not as if you can just walk up to someone and ask if they’d be interested in a small construction company, let alone guns-”
“You know you ain’t supposed to say that kinda stuff out loud.” The two spun round to look at the figure walking towards them, only to look at piercing black and red eyes. Standing in between the heights of the two, the man was well muscled, with straight hair curving down to the right of his head past his chestnut skin, leading into spikes just next to his neck. While he was wearing a more subtle outfit than normal, albeit a brilliant golden suit piece, Lanscilo easily recognised his face from the Even Darker Web.
“I-Ilar? Ilar Opeth?” he nervously asked. Jethro looked at his associate curiously.
“Who’s he?”
“Well you know how you’re, well, ‘the guy’ of Anvil Procession? He’s THE guy of THE trade. He’s not that far from us either, he’s based in Egypt.”
Ilar chuckled at the villain’s nervousness. “I see you’ve heard plenty of me, but I’ve seen some of your product popping up in places, and while I’m fine where I’m standing, I’m sure you might want some help reaching the top shelf. And I’m totally fine with that! You guys sound neat.”
”I don’t like how he’s talking.” Jethro faulted as the voice rang out in his head, fist slightly clenching. Noticing this only made Ilar laugh harder.
“Well, I’ll contact you some time and maybe something can come out of it. The things we deal with are marvelous, are they not? But I gotta go meet someone I haven’t seen in some time. Bye!” And with that, the man waved and left, leaving the two slightly stunned as he walked towards…a supermodel?
With a warm grin, Ilar shook the hand of a blonde Amazon of a woman with a burn scar across her left eye. “Robin Turco! It’s a pleasure to see you.”
“Likewise,” Robin replied. She’d met the region’s top arms dealer enough times before to be on friendly terms.
Ilar looked around surreptitiously. “I notice your fiance’s not with you. Is he unwell?”
Robin shook her head. “‘Rkto is fine, but this place isn’t his scene, for…a number of reasons. Besides, business before pleasure.”
“You’ve always been one to pursue both.”
As they shared a polite chuckle, a much louder laugh rang out around the Gala. Aristizábal de los Flores stood tall and triumphant as ever, dusting off his hands.
"¡Y así, señores y señoritas, es como se aplica el Especial Gory Guerrero!" He took a ceremonial bow, soaking in the applause of the surrounding spectators. Stepping over the prone body of his impromptu training partner, the giant of a man plopped back down onto a Camisa Negra unit in chair form.
“Was that really necessary?” Casco Acciaio glanced at the even taller man. “I thought we were supposed to be socializing.”
Aristi shrugged. "Quería una demostración. Se lo dí a él. ¿Qué, esperabas que no lo hiciera? Ridículo."
“Aristizábal is correct!” Mx Wah announced. “When someone makes a request, it must be fulfilled ten-fold. This is the first rule of Wahbitration!”
Casco tried to respond, but Wah had already inserted themselves in another conversation. Aristi laughed and clapped Casco across the back. "Oye, Casco, admítelo—Wah sabe cómo hablar la charla!"
He’d like to disagree, but Aristi was right. Passion Little was face-down on a nearby table, gently snoring; Saisei Daichi had been assigned to watch 21% Off lest he embarrass himself elsewhere; Solsbury wasn’t even here, since he’d been told to stay home in case he made a scene. In their stead, Wah entertained the crowd that gathered around Aristi, deftly shifting from the display of machismo to discussions of real estate markets with the same amount of mirth and merriment.
Still, there was at least one upside to this chaos. Nobody would ever suspect them to be the collective heads of one of the largest criminal organizations in the Mediterranean.

Clair was suspicious of some of the people hanging around across the room, but she didn’t want to go have a closer look—she shouldn’t have been there anyways, having snuck in alongside the rest of the Advanced Research and Assessment Team. Leaving PANIC behind with Errok, Ken and Hurdy Gurdy Man might not have been the smartest move, but she wanted to come to the gala and cause problems on purpose. Espionage was her thing after all.
She noticed a waiter nearby, and pointed them out to 2095. Excitedly, the android waltzed over to them, ordering in perfect Greek one Kanelada, a couple glasses of Ouzo, and one glass of Raki. Happy with herself, she walked back to the other three. Midori smiled nervously—she very much didn’t want to be alone with the people who hadn’t come, so here she was, hoping that she wouldn’t need to feed Seymour.
Amal and Oliver simply watched, the former cabbitzing with any who passed. “You know Oliver, you should actually enjoy the party we’ve been invited to!” They beamed, almost finishing their Ouzo. Oliver simply sighed in response.
“Amal, this is a business expo. I don’t know why we were picked to represent Enyalius & Enyo, but we should be good representatives for them here.”
“Well that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself!”
“Yes, well…” Oliver hesitated.
“Ugh just bloody look around, everyone’s having a good time! Even Midori is having fun tonight!”
“…fine, sure,” Oliver sighed, losing this battle. He turned and caught Clair drumming her fingers while looking about. “What’s the matter?”
“Well,” Clair fretted, glancing about. “This is getting all stuffy—can I do my spy thing?”
“I’m still unsure if you should even be here-” Oliver started, before Amal put a hand on his shoulder chuckling.
“Nah, she’s alright. Go have fun!”
“She could get kicked out.”
“Clair’s smart, she won’t get caught.”
“WOAH.” Amal recoiled in shock, already looking to something else. “That guy’s enormous! You think he’s a stand user?” Oliver turned around, to see the target of the former’s attention in conversation.
“Probably, but I think we should not approach him,” Oliver started, sighing. “I guess I’ll try and have some fun.”
“Damn right!” agreed Amal, eyes still locked on the man whose outfit could only be described as something between a wrestler’s entrance wear and archaic Anatolian finery.
“Well, Mr. Rayard!” boomed the massive Turk (with equally massive white turban to match). “You and your Creed Collins have earned yourself a new client, and I doubt I’ll be the only one! Styx should fit in just fine to this Dead Drop Bay!”
Lucas nodded, face far less expressive than the so-called Sultan of Swing. The giant was rather more boisterous than Lucas’s usual choice of conversation partner, but Creed had sent him to drum up business for Styx, and this man was in the market for just their type of services. “Much appreciated,” Lucas muttered, glancing around the Gala, for an out.
“But I’m not done!” said the Sultan, his (mostly friendly) iron grip on Lucas’s shoulder holding firm. Not that the Turk had much of an indoor voice to begin with, but his next sentence seemed designed to carry across the entire convention center. “I’ve heard about the trouble you and your friends had at the airport in Istanbul, and I intend to do something about it! If that pigeon-livered coward thinks he can steal people’s memories on MY TURF, he’s got SOMETHING. ELSE. COMING!
In stark contrast to the giant speaking to his teammate, Dr. Darius Alphonse Stevens was stoic and humble to the point of nonchalance, striking a quiet and purely business conversation about resupplying his pharmaceuticals, the kind of thing Neon Glow would have found even more boring than shipping inventories, while the Everly Brothers walked the floor making medical deals of a slightly different sort.
While the group Savvas had designated as Apollo was one of the more scattered organizations attending the Gala (with Rigatte and Nicholas too busy committing petty crime back in Turkey), Ashen Memoriam also was one of the most business-oriented sets of newcomers. Even Bohdan Paska had something to sell—namely, he had been operating an unlicensed ice cream truck just outside, a fact that had caused an already very busy (and more competent than Ravee believed) security team to escort him off the premises.
Speaking of business dealings, the investor Timofey was attending the Gala to meet was more connected to his absent neighbor Cerise than Timofey might have guessed. As it was, the Monaco-based Standfight ringleader was in the market for a new security detail—namely, Timofey, and that was an opportunity Raymond wasn’t going to pass up…and how could Timofey refuse Raymond?
The ODDWOLF Enforcer wasn’t the only resident of Eze’s Harvest Moon Boulevard who had been earmarked for the Olympus Gala by the party’s enigmatic host. While Timofey may have been all business on the assignment from his beloved Raymond, the remaining five were anything but. (And like Cerise, Nibel had skipped the party altogether.)
Although their association was usually scattered, they had gravitated together, at least for a time. The core around which many were orbiting was Dr. Nick Mason, the Speedwagon scientist who had completely forgotten the mistrust the Foundation had of Agoraeus in his excitement at the opportunity to enjoy the company of so many Stand users. Indeed, the strange pulling sensation that brought Lamb to Eze had presently subsided. He breathed easy.
“I know you were planning to busk here, but it looks like they had entertainment prepared.” Mason quipped to Lamb, motioning to the jazz band that had frustrated Jerry. “Sorry about that.”
“Ah, it’s okay. Nice to just relax.”
“Quite! You know, I actually play violin…” As the good doctor continued, Lamb’s roommate Belle and Akashita drifted into the crowd, waved off by an ethereal hand. Anywhere else, they might have stood out greatly, but as the two poked their noses in at every corner of the convention, gleefully taking in the sights and sounds, they blended into the bizarre crowd almost naturally, much to Belle’s relief. Her new friend (a youkai, apparently, though Akashita looked human at the moment—Belle had to do some more research when she got back to Eze) glided through the crowd with refined practice, pulling the more reserved sentient Stand along behind her.
By contrast, Nia Belmonte felt more conspicuous…and reveled in it. Here she was, a humble mythology and history teacher, rubbing elbows with the Mediterranean elite with all the right to breathe their air, eat their food—click!—and take pictures of an Athenian Gala, where the eccentric host had assigned every set of invitations to a Greek god. That one was for her class back home.
She had an ulterior reason for accepting the invitation, of course. Both she and her newer friend June were looking for answers to long-standing mysteries, and someone here had to have leads on Chelsea’s disappearance and June’s identity. Though there was a problem…June would not stay focused on one thing for more than a minute at the time. They were about as caught up in the bizarre intrigue of the Gala’s eclectic guests as Belle and Akashita combined.
When Nia finally caught up to June, they were listening to a Catalonian treasure hunter tell some pretty dubious stories…but then again, Nia thought, who was she of all people to judge on that front?

As a small crowd started to form, Marina kept a careful eye on those who wandered towards the center. While her crew seemed well behaved for now, as captain, she tamed the murmuring waves lest anyone get swept away, the rest focused on the treasure: the tales Dédalo was regaling to the growing audience. He spoke of mystical woods and underwater cities, gushed about underground mazes and infamous castles. The audience was captivated, Perdida herself fascinated by the adventures he detailed.
There were three who weren’t as interested—off to the side, Tim and Grey sat by one of the tables nearby, accompanied by Lumberjack who enjoyed the bountiful catering, pocketing some for later. Tim himself swirled wine in a glass, brow furrowed in thought. Grey, by contrast, had begun to come around: “I mean, so you’re saying Perdida is a sentient Stand, right?”
“Right,” Tim replied. “I don’t believe she could be anything else.”
“Well, the other day, Joey and I were discussing sentient Stands, and he said that usually they know that they’re Stands.”
“…that makes sense…” Tim nodded before his eyes widened. “Wait, are you about to—”
“And you know how we had to explain what a Stand was to both of them?”
“She could just be a special case!”
“Well the island did just appear out of nowhere—”
“Alien technology.” Tim stated, dogmatically.
“Maybe. But maybe it could be proof of Stand users throughout ancient history!”
“Ugh,” Tim sighed, picking up a glass of champagne before taking a sip and regretting it. “How am I the only person questioning this? Heavy Eco—”
“Who was in the Labyrinth.”
“Yeah alright. Nagel, Lumberjack-”
“Ville d’Ys.”
“Have you memorized his stories or something,” Tim jokingly pointed out. “But, fine. The monkeys don’t really have an opinion I think. I’m just not buying it.”
“I would not be so quick to cast doubt. There have been stranger tales around these parts throughout its history,” A tall regal man in a rough textured dress suit that shone like crystalized obsidian walked up. “Pardon for butting into your conversation, but I noticed you were new faces here.” He sipped from a decorative crystal wine glass, looking over the crowd around Dedalo.
Tim sat up straighter as he and Grey turned to look at the well dressed man, “What gave away that we were new here?” Grey voiced and Tim thought internally.
The man gestured around, “I like to think myself a good judge of people’s character. Naturally, it helps that I have been around here for over a few decades. You in particular seem rather young, barely old enough for that glass you have beside you.” He lightly pointed his glass over to Tim in a manner-of-fact tone. “And we rarely get young people at these events.”
Tim hid a blush and cleared his throat, “Well Mr…” Tim trailed a bit before spying a name tag on the man’s suit, a slight uptick in his voice betraying his uncertainty as he pressed on. “Cullinan. My choice of drink might be a little over 1000 years older than I am, but yours by comparison is around 4000 years older than you.” Tim took another sip of his drink, doing his best to hide his regret and make a good impression. “So if you want me to believe that an ancient civilization like the one he is describing was around before wine was ever traded, I would have serious doubts about the advanced tech he claims they had.”
Cullinan chuckled, “A reasonable enough point. A bit of free information since you are new here: 「Al」 is somewhere over 3000 years old. While I suppose other conclusions could be reached, it isn’t quite as far-fetched as you might be thinking.” He began to walk towards the crowd “Though I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to listen more closely.”
“…Wait, who’s Al?” Grey asked a bit too late as Cullinan had already disappeared into the crowd.
Some time had passed since Tim’s best attempts at schmoozing and Dédalo’s genuinely crowd-drawing storytelling when a large man stepped up to a podium. He was massive, and while not the largest in pure physical size (a superlative that would either go to the Turk in the white turban or the woman representing the Anvil Procession’s Negotiation Division), there was no question that Savvas Aniketos was the largest presence at the Olympus Gala. So when it came time for his much-anticipated keynote address, the entire building fell totally silent. Even those scheming some sort of theft or violence were stopped in their tracks, held in rapt attention by their host.
In particular, Finni Angelos was struck by how different Savvas was from the last time she’d seen him. Far from the wrathful storm of a man he’d witnessed split Piraeus harbor, the man at the podium was genial, his old body practically crackling with excitement at whatever he was about to announce.
“Welcome!” rumbled the old man to begin his address, prompting a smattering of cheers, especially from the more well-established players in the region, as well as the drunker attendees of the party. “My dear people—those of you from the Argus that is the Speedwagon Foundation and that lovely Demeter neighborhood in Eze, from the great organizations of the sea to the smaller alliances along the coasts, welcome to the Olympus Gala!”
Savvas smiled, clearly pleased with his little joke. The people of Dead Drop Bay had been calling him a modern-day Zeus for decades now, it was time he turned that convention back on them. Of course, crowd reactions were more mixed. Deimos Myers scowled at the casting of Speedwagon as Argus—hadn’t his invitation been marked for Athena? If Savvas knew about the Collecionistas…but he was getting ahead of himself.
From their vantage point in the ceiling, Franky and Evan had the distraction they were looking for, but they too were as caught up in the speech as everyone else…this was for the best, as Savvas took a pause to look right at them, giving them a brief wink.
“I hope you’ll all indulge an old man for a moment, but I have a tendency to ramble on, as those of you who’ve heard me speak before know all too well.” Some laughs from the regional heads of Agoraeus. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to hear me moralize about some myth from ancient times about the dangers of hubris, or the importance of hospitality, not today.”
Nia raised an eyebrow. If she didn’t have to sit through a story about how respecting the gods was important, actually (regardless of whose gods the story touched on), that was fine by her. While perhaps as different from Nia as any of the attendees, Frederick was equally relieved not to be subjected to yet another story about hubris, an accusation he’d weathered enough times to be truly sick of it.
“In fact, I think I’ve told just about every story of the Olympians there is to tell, sometime in the last sixty years. Most of my friends in Agoraeus, with the exception of Gataki, seem almost afraid at times to acknowledge the obvious: I’m getting old—no, I am old!” There was a twinkle in his eye as he said this. “Most of you don’t know this, but I have children of my own, and even plenty of grandchildren. I should like to see more of them before they grow up, too!”
Arms crossed over his chest, Aristi smiled at that last part. That was a sentiment he could get behind.
“Agoraeus has shipped goods and people across the Mediterranean for decades, and we’ve done it well!” More cheers from the regional heads. “I’ve been called the most powerful and successful man in Dead Drop Bay, and even on my most modest day I would be hard pressed to argue against that claim. But like I said…I’m getting too old to keep up with everything. So many new faces at this Gala. A very knowledgeable friend of mine recently said there were strange, wonderful things in motion here, and I’ve never known them to be wrong.”
Texas Holdem nodded to himself—while he and Lincoln hadn’t found out as much as they’d hoped about 「Aerials」 or how to break free from the labyrinth of fate, the people he had met and things he’d seen in motion made it clear that there was plenty to keep him interested in the meantime. In contrast, Brandy Judge could barely hold herself still in her seat. Anvil Procession had something to prove, and this guy got it!
“Still!” thundered Savvas. “I think I’m just about done!”
The crowd, held in rapt silence up to this point, began murmuring all at once, even as the old man continued speaking. Oliver and Amal looked at each other in shock, each as taken aback by this particular twist as the other.
“That’s right, as of tonight, I am retiring as head of Agoraeus. Going out on top! I’ve had more than enough excitement for one lifetime, and it’s your turn—all of you!—to make this beautiful place your own. As for me, I’ll be in Florida with my grandchildren. Good-bye and the open bar closes in an hour!”
With a gasp that lasted entire seconds, Al stared wide-eyed at the morning paper before them, half-eaten strip of flatbread dangling just inches from their mouth. The sky above was pink with dawn, the gulls crying out to greet a brand new day.
“No way.” Their eyes were fixed on the page announcing the Agoraeus CEO’s sudden retirement. “That wasn’t supposed to be for another week!”
Then they glanced at the date on the front of the paper, and their teeth clicked together thoughtfully. “Oh. Wow. It has been a week. Huh.”
Then their jaw dropped once again. “…Wait–I never got him a retirement present. I don’t even know where Florida is!”
Their face fell, utterly aghast. “That means I missed the PARTY!”
WIth a flourish, they slammed the paper down on the table with one hand and shoved the rest of their breakfast into their mouth with the other, bouncing to their feet and knocking their chair to the ground behind them. Hopping over its legs, Al spun away from the table, turning only for long enough to toss something onto the table, before their arms threw up in the air and they dissipated into a puff of golden sand that whirled up, up, up into the wind.
All that was left was a glittering silver coin, with a gold etching of an old man sat upon a beach beneath a palm tree. Well, of course—that and the paper on the table, with a headline that screamed…
As always, if you would like to interact with the tournament community and be among the first to get updates for the tournament, please feel free to PM a member of our Judge staff for an invite to our Official Discord Server!
On a beach across the ocean, a well-worn book of Greek mythology shared a basket with a glittering blue coin. An old man lounged contentedly on a beach chair, watching his grandkids play amongst the waves. He sighed happily. This was exactly what he needed.
SAVVAS ANIKETOS, CEO OF AGORAEUS - RETIRED! submitted by Logic_Sandwich to StardustCrusaders [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 so-very-very-tired New to sharpening. Looking mainly at occasional tool sharpening. Confused as to what diamond plates make sense to go with (price/performance points...)

I need to get a sharpening set up to handle some occasional tool sharpening. I'm thinking it's something I'd end up doing maybe twice a year at most...mainly a handful of chisels, card scrapers, etc.
The fancy japanese knifes are not something I'll be doing with these.
I'd like to go with diamond plates mainly because I'm lazy and they seem to require less maintenance.
Catch is...I'm seeing that there are a lot of poorly made options. Seems most of the stuff on Amazon have at least ~5% of the reviews complaining about them wearing out.
That said, I'm not sure what that means....wears out after one use? A month of constant use? Etc.
I've been reading through the posts here and it seems like two brands to consider at a decent value for price are the EZE-LAP and Ultra Sharp
Alas, even the Ultra Sharp plates seem to have more than a few people complaining about how short of a lifespan they have:
Are diamond plates simply one of those things where you need to spend $x of money to get a decent product and, if so, what is that price point?
Or is it that maybe some people are just doing a hell of a lot of sharpening so will complain about nearly any option given the amount of use they are getting?
Is there a particular sub-$100 option for getting a couple grits for wood tool sharpening use once or twice a year that people would recommend that won't wear out after the first use?
(BTW, I did find this incredibly chearp $14 option that actually didn't have complaints about lifespan: https://www.amazon.com/Royalbelle-Sharpening-Sharpener-grindstone-Non-slip/dp/B08F7CKLV9 but I'm guessing the users of a $14 plate are a bit different than the ones of a $50/$100 plate...)
submitted by so-very-very-tired to sharpening [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 urfeetgoddesss New feetbaby feeling sexy 🥰

New feetbaby feeling sexy 🥰 submitted by urfeetgoddesss to Feetishh [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 Normal-Mud-3272 Rally Sims for Low End PC ?

My Specs: AMD Athlon X4 860K Black Edition 3,7 hz 8 GB RAM AMD Radeon AX R7 240
submitted by Normal-Mud-3272 to simracing [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 speedbigbass_8 karma4karma my bros

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2022.01.22 19:04 AirplneModePandoraOn [Serious] What is truly an art form?

submitted by AirplneModePandoraOn to AskReddit [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 OliverMarkusMalloy New Rule: First Lady Barack Obama | Real Time (HBO)

New Rule: First Lady Barack Obama | Real Time (HBO) submitted by OliverMarkusMalloy to Trumpvirus [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 KixtinCannes Ranunculus & Anemone, Act 1 :: Scene 6

Ranunculus & Anemone, Act 1 :: Scene 6 submitted by KixtinCannes to webcomics [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 EdBasura "Bob" by WMWP [DOOMFUNK]

submitted by EdBasura to noiserock [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 takahan13 More Funko Photography by Takahan

More Funko Photography by Takahan submitted by takahan13 to funkopop [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 Mystical_Cat To Mega Therion

To Mega Therion submitted by Mystical_Cat to vinyl [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 scootermarie17 PS4 Games with immersive story and good puzzle mechanics and see thrill! Something that's not too short either.

I've played all the Tomb Raider and Uncharted games and lovedddd those. As well as Resident Evil series. Just finished Sherlock Holmes: Devil's Daughter too and really enjoyed that game style and story.
submitted by scootermarie17 to gamerecommendations [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 meshart Redraw

Redraw submitted by meshart to drawing [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 foreverandfourdays What balance to keep credit card?

I have a 2k limit and an outstanding balance of $124. I don't want to keep my balance at zero for long periods of time because I need to show that I am using the card, right? So, what I do is keep the balance consistently low (below 10%), pay it off time to time to keep it low and that's that. But never zero. Am I doing it right? My credit is pretty good, but I just want more clarification.
submitted by foreverandfourdays to Accounting [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 sicknastybeats Just got some rainbow roller skates so I cam re-learn the hobby during quarantine. Gonna get my rainbow safety gear in the mail soon too!

submitted by sicknastybeats to RainbowEverything [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 UnoWhoItTis Pixels can be deceiving. What looks like a man wearing a newsboy hat is really just a man wearing a beanie.

Pixels can be deceiving. What looks like a man wearing a newsboy hat is really just a man wearing a beanie. submitted by UnoWhoItTis to LibbyandAbby [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 Slight_Country_23 🤩🤩

🤩🤩 submitted by Slight_Country_23 to AlineRose [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 BreadPossum Best place to buy knock-off Lions jerseys?

Love the Lions, but $120 is a lot. Do any if you guys know a good website to get somewhat high-quality fakes for cheap?
submitted by BreadPossum to detroitlions [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 KJournalpages My favourite theme I created back in Sept! What is your theme for January?

My favourite theme I created back in Sept! What is your theme for January? submitted by KJournalpages to bulletjournal [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 fartymeldman37 Chesterd Draws

Chesterd Draws submitted by fartymeldman37 to BoneAppleTea [link] [comments]

2022.01.22 19:04 Delicious_Wish8865 Selena Gomez

Selena Gomez submitted by Delicious_Wish8865 to trueratecelebrities [link] [comments]