Podcasts about SMG

This week, Baltimore man shoots himself in the leg when car drives by, Irish cop shoots himself in the ankle with a SMG, Jay Slater says Jeff is #200 and Andy is #300-something, Stephen broke 180 and his Glock exploded, the two most important drills, suppressors getting deregulated?, the Wounded Knee Massacre, and much more! Get your "It's f***ing Tuesday" T-shirt!  Subscribe on Patreon to get an extra episode every week! Listen on YouTube! Andy on Instagram - andy.e.605 Jeff on Instagram - jeff_the_monster_king MW Aktiv Wear - mw_aktiv_wear Not Another Shooting Show on Reddit

durée : 00:09:07 - La Question du jour - par : Marguerite Catton - Dans quelques jours sera prononcé le verdict du procès du chirurgien Le Scouarnec, jugé pour des agressions pédocriminelles et le procès a révélé de nombreuses défaillances au niveau institutionnel. Comment expliquer l'inertie de l'administration hospitalière et de l'Ordre des médecins ? - réalisation : Félicie Faugère - invités : François Meuret Médecin généraliste retraité, membre du Syndicat de la Médecine Générale (SMG)

durée : 02:30:19 - Les Matins - par : Guillaume Erner, Isabelle de Gaulmyn - - réalisation : Félicie Faugère - invités : François Meuret Médecin généraliste retraité, membre du Syndicat de la Médecine Générale (SMG) ; Antonin Bergeaud Professeur d'économie à HEC Paris; Bruno Bonnell Entrepreneur, député LREM du Rhône; Claire Meynial Grand reporter pour Le Point, prix Albert Londres 2016

Rob interviews Grant Barnekow about the "Sphinx: The Smart Wet Feeder For Cats"  Kickstarter!  Sphinx automatically feeds vet-approved meals, keeps food fresh, and lets you check in with your cat via real-time audio and video! Check out an exclusive sneak peak video about SPhinx right here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iq-mL-1S6k4   Support Sphinx: The Smart Wet Feeder For Cats:  https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/sphinxcatfeeder/sphinx-the-worlds-smartest-cat-feeder     #SphinxFeeder #RayneNutrition #SmartFeeding #WholeFoodPet #FelineHealth #vetapproved  #SmartFeeder #CatParents  ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++   One easy way to support this show is to rate and review Go Fund This wherever you listen to our podcast. Those ratings really help us and help others find our show. Go Fund This is produced and edited by Rob Southgate for Southgate Media Group. Find Go Fund This at: southgatemediagroup.com facebook.com/gofundthispodcast patreon.com/southgatemediagroup  Make sure to follow SMG on Facebook too at @SouthgateMediaGroup   Learn more, subscribe, or contact Southgate Media Group at www.southgatemediagroup.com. Check out our webpage at southgatemediagroup.com If you're an artist or writer or creative type that would have a table at in artist alley and would like to be on Go Fund This, message us through the Facebook page or email us directly at rob@alleychatspodcast.com

Dr. Martin Böker ist von Haus aus Sonder- und Heilpädagoge. Seit über 50 Jahren praktiziert er verschiedene Formen der Meditation, mittlerweile angekommen in der Praxis des Tibetischen Buddhismus. Trotz der vermeintlichen Unvereinbarkeit brachte ihn seine Neugierde in Kontakt mit Psychedelika. Dieses Gespräch ist ein offener Austausch - der Versuch, eine Brücke zu bauen zwischen zwei Lagern, die vielleicht mehr verbindet als diese jeweils zugeben würden.Möchtest du auch einmal eine psychedelische Erfahrung machen? Erfahre mehr über unsere Psilocybin-Retreats auf: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.new-eleusis.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠ ✉️ Bleibe mit uns über unseren Newsletter in Verbindung: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠http://eepurl.com/iw2qiw⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

The CPG Guys are joined in this episode by Alison O'Keefe, Partnership Director at WHSmith North America Media Network, Powered by SMG. WHS Media is the first-ever in-store travel Retail Media Network, connecting brands to consumers across travel hubs in North America.Find Alison on LinkedIn at: https://www.linkedin.com/in/alison-o-keefe-42b1a830/Find WHSmith Media on LinkedIn at: https://www.linkedin.com/company/whsmith-north-america-media-network/Find WHSmith Media online at: https://smg.team/en-us/retailers/whs-media/Alison answers these questions:What are some of the biggest challenges brands face when trying to engage consumers in travel hubs?How do you see the role of physical retail media evolving in an increasingly digital advertising landscape?Why did WHSmith choose to partner with SMG in launching a media platform?How does WHSmith differentiate its media network from other retail media networks in the travel space?What are the core solutions that you offer brands to engage consumers in your physical retail locations?What types of brands or advertisers see the most success when partnering with WHSmith's media network? Is it all about endemic advertising?Can you share any recent success stories of brands leveraging WHSmith's retail media network effectively?What advice would you give to companies looking to create meaningful partnerships within the WHSmith ecosystem?How does WHSmith's media network measure and report on ad effectiveness for partners?CPG Guys Website: http://CPGguys.comFMCG Guys Website: http://FMCGguys.comCPG Scoop Website: http://CPGscoop.comSubscribe to Chain Drug Review here: https://chaindrugreview.com/#/portal/signupSubscribe to Mass Market Retailers here: https://massmarketretailers.com/#/portal/signupDISCLAIMER: The content in this podcast episode is provided for general informational purposes only. By listening to our episode, you understand that no information contained in this episode should be construed as advice from CPGGUYS, LLC or the individual author, hosts, or guests, nor is it intended to be a substitute for research on any subject matter. Reference to any specific product or entity does not constitute an endorsement or recommendation by CPGGUYS, LLC. The views expressed by guests are their own and their appearance on the program does not imply an endorsement of them or any entity they represent. CPGGUYS LLC expressly disclaims any and all liability or responsibility for any direct, indirect, incidental, special, consequential or other damages arising out of any individual's use of, reference to, or inability to use this podcast or the information we presented in this podcast.

In the latest episode of Identity Architects, InfoSum's SVP, Marketing & Communications, Ben Cicchetti, sat down with Sean Crawford, Managing Director, North America at SMG, to discuss retail media, commerce media, data collaboration, DEI, and more.—Listen to our Identity Architects' Soundtrack Playlist: https://hubs.la/Q02yC7Vt0 More information on InfoSum https://www.infosum.com/ InfoSum Case Studies: https://www.infosum.com/resources/library/case-studies —Subscribe to our newsletter: https://www.infosum.com/resources/insights Follow us on LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/company/infosumhq

Nataša Keser je igralka mlajše generacije, ki je končala magisterij dramske igre na Akademiji za gledališče, radio, film in televizijo v Ljubljani pod mentorstvom igralca Janeza Hočevarja in režiserja Tomija Janežiča. Že kot študentka je z diplomsko produkcijo 1981 v režiji sošolke Nine Rajić Kranjac opozorila na svoj igralski talent, kot samozaposlena v kulturi je vse do leta 2023 sodelovala pri mnogih odmevnih predstavah, kot sta na primer Solo (2021, Nova pošta) in Zborovanje ptic (2015, Gledališče Glej). Kot članica gledališkega kolektiva Počemučka je soprejemnica nagrade za najboljšo lutkovno predstavo ter nagrade za igro in animacijo na 12. bienalu lutkovnih ustvarjalcev Slovenije. Od leta 2023 je Nataša Keser članica stalnega ansambla Slovenskega mladinskega gledališča. Prav za predstavo Angeli v Ameriki, ki je nastala v produkciji SMG, pa je lansko leto prejela Borštnikovo nagrado za igro. Vabljeni k poslušanju! Foto: Luka Kaše

About Candlelight Bridge In 1910, twelve-year-old Candelaria Rivera and her family flee across the Chihuahuan Desert to America to escape the rising storm of the Mexican Revolution. Meanwhile, twenty-year-old Yan Chi Wong flees the Chinese Revolution and a shattering loss, also bound for America, where he's nicknamed Yankee. They meet in El Paso, Texas, where they fight to make a home in a world that does not want them, until a terrible desire threatens to destroy their lives. Candlelight Bridge is not a romance but a tale of grudging partners struggling to survive the American Dream.   Purchase now from Bookshop.org  https://bookshop.org/a/10588/9781963245073   Purchase now from Amazon https://amzn.to/3EhJM2i   About Cara Lopez Lee Cara Lopez Lee is the author of the historical novel, Candlelight Bridge (FlowerSong Press, May 2024) and the memoir, They Only Eat Their Husbands (Bower House Books). Her writing has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, Rivet, and Manifest-Station. She was an award-winning TV journalist in Alaska. She's a winner of The Moth StorySLAM and is featured in many storytelling shows, including Unheard L.A. and Risk. Lopez Lee and her husband live in Ventura, California.     _______________________________________________________________ One easy way to support this show is to rate and review Read Between the Lines wherever you listen to our podcast.  Those ratings really help us and help others find our show. Read Between the Lines is hosted by Molly Southgate and is produced/edited by Rob Southgate for Southgate Media Group.    Follow this show on Facebook @ReadBetweentheLinesPod Follow our parent network on Twitter at @SMGPods Make sure to follow SMG on Facebook too at @SouthgateMediaGrouLearn more, subscribe, or contact Southgate Media Group at www.southgatemediagroup.com.   Check out our webpage at southgatemediagroup.com

About The Fabled Earth Sometimes the truth is found in a folktale. An evening of revelry and storytelling goes horribly awry when temptations arise and passions flare. Those who survive are haunted by memories and regrets in this southern gothic tale told across dual timelines. 1932. Cumberland Island off the coast of Southern Georgia is a strange place to encounter the opulence of the Gilded Age, but the last vestiges of the famed philanthropic Carnegie family still take up brief seasonal residence in their grand mansions there. This year's party at Plum Orchard is a lively group: young men from some of America's finest families who come to experience the area's hunting beside a local guide, a beautiful debutante expecting to be engaged by the week's end, and a promising female artist who believes she has meaningful ties to her wealthy hosts. But when temptations arise and passions flare, an evening of revelry and storytelling goes horribly awry. Lives are both lost and ruined. 1959. Reclusive painter Cleo Woodbine has lived alone for decades on Kingdom Come, a tiny strip of land once occupied by the servants for the great houses on nearby Cumberland. When she is visited by the man who saved her life nearly thirty years earlier, a tempest is unleashed as the stories of the past gather and begin to regain their strength. Frances Flood is a folklorist come to Cumberland Island seeking the source of a legend--and also information about her mother, who was among the guests at a long-ago hunting party. Audrey Howell, briefly a newlywed and now newly widowed, is running a local inn. When she develops an eerie double exposure photograph, some believe she's raised a ghost--someone who hasn't been seen since that fateful night in 1932. Southern mythology and personal reckoning collide in this sweeping story inspired by the little-known history of Cumberland Island when a once-in-a-century storm threatens the natural landscape. Faced with a changing world, two timelines and the perspectives of three women intersect where a folktale meets the truth to reveal what Cumberland Island has hidden all along Purchase now from Bookshop.org  https://bookshop.org/a/10588/9781400234226   Purchase now from Amazon https://amzn.to/421w2AO   About Kimberly Brock Kimberly Brock is the award-winning author of The Lost Book of Eleanor Dare and The River Witch. She is the founder of Tinderbox Writers Workshop and has served as a guest lecturer for many regional and national writing workshops including at the Pat Conroy Literary Center. She lives near Atlanta with her husband and three children. Visit her online at kimberlybrockbooks.com   _______________________________________________________________ One easy way to support this show is to rate and review Read Between the Lines wherever you listen to our podcast.  Those ratings really help us and help others find our show. Read Between the Lines is hosted by Molly Southgate and is produced/edited by Rob Southgate for Southgate Media Group.    Follow this show on Facebook @ReadBetweentheLinesPod Follow our parent network on Twitter at @SMGPods Make sure to follow SMG on Facebook too at @SouthgateMediaGrouLearn more, subscribe, or contact Southgate Media Group at www.southgatemediagroup.com.   Check out our webpage at southgatemediagroup.com

IAB UK's annual Leadership Summit returned to Sopwell House in St Albans last week, bringing together senior decision-makers and giving them a crucial opportunity to discuss shared challenges, debate the big issues and shape the industry's future.Today's episode sees the IAB's Charlotte Robinson buzzing around the summit speaking to as many delegates and speakers as possible for The IAB UK Podcast, including SMG's Sam Knights, GroupM's Sandra Arnold, Happydemics' Tarek Ouagguini and PubMatic's Emma Newman. Plus, if you haven't already, don't miss our earlier episode featuring Baroness Nicky Morgan, where she shares her fascinating journey from corporate law to the House of Lords: https://open.spotify.com/episode/11Md0PFWQKmL0Co6Tybhzp?si=0jgpz2H7Sv2eIwQj1qoT4QCatch up on all of the highlights of Leadership Summit 2025 via our website: https://www.iabuk.com/leadership-summit-2025Thanks again to our podcast sponsor, Happydemics! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Cáel's second vacation with Aya and friends.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Loving your enemy is easy. You know precisely where the two of you standJust in case anyone cares, I do not hate China or the Chinese People. As a Global Power, the PRC is fair game as a great antagonist. Not only do they have, as of 2015, the world's largest economy, largest population and a truly global Diaspora, they also have a rather totalitarian governance system that enables them to devote scary levels of resources to any endeavor they set their minds to.I usually paint all governments to be entities capable of great good (rarely achieved) and great evil (because it makes such enticing fiction). In my stories, it often falls to the people within those institutions to make judgment calls on what is the right thing to do. In my final analysis, there are no 'Evil' governments, just evil people who use the system to get what they want(Right where we left off)"Aya," I spoke to her when she'd finished up by giving Mu a strong dose of a pain killer, "Now go back to the galley and find the nice medic-lady there. She has a bottle filled with some of those kick-ass sedatives. Inject everyone else but me, you, Zhen here and Mu, Mu's had enough drugs for one day.""Okay," she popped up. She turned fearlessly to face her former tormentors and jailors."I had them all swear an oath to Ishara to not kill, harm, or restrain you in any manner, so have fun hunting them down. You've got about thirty minutes.""Is Dot with us right now?" she gave me a bone-tired smile. I nodded. "This is going to be fun," she shouted and off she went.'I'll be by her side', Dot whispered to me. She rose forth from the seat within me and followed Aya out into Seven Pillars Hell. Technically, I believed it was the Diyu of the Fiendish Child. Those malicious bastards suffered every accident, misfortune, and nearly-impossible odds malfunction in the process of being subdued by a 9 year old Amazon.Four of them died in the process of trying to kill her, when stopping her became obviously impossible. Two had their guns blow up when they tried to shoot her, dismembering their hands and wrists. One guy was strangled in his emergency oxygen supply mask. The last guy lunged forward, slipped on a cup and broke his neck when his head was caught in a folded armrest.Twenty-eight nerve wracking minutes later."All done," she gave me an exhausted yet triumphant chirp. "Should I strap Mr. Mu into a chair? He's passed out.""Zhen, buckle your brother into a chair and hurry back. I'll hold us steady until you get back."Remember, I had only the use of my left hand. My right had to stay on the dagger to keep things powered up."Buckle-up after you've gotten Duan Mu secured, Aya. That's his proper name.""I know that. I was trying to keep them irritated so they would act irrationally. You taught me that," Aya bathed me in her sinister ways and means.Finally, it was down to me and Zhen. "Do you think we will succeed, Cáel Wakko Ishara?" "I'm giving it my best shot." "The little girl was right," Zhen groaned. "She told us we'd regret not killing you in New York when we had the chance. I thought she was being an annoying spoiled brat. I was wrong." Pause. "I know you have no reason to answer me truthfully, but when we, the rest of us, die, could you make sure my brother's body is returned to my father so that he can join our ancestors in the family grave?" "Why do you think I would lie to you now that we are alone?" That was a loaded question. I did the majority of my lying when I was alone with a woman. "I, will you give me your Oath, in your Goddess's name?" "Nope. My Goddess has pretty much been exhausted by your boys trying to break their vows to me and Aya. I'll tell you what I will do, " "What?" "Show me your tits and I'll promise to do my best." "What? You want to see me naked?" she grew indignant. "No!" It was her being a vaginal virgin (I knew the type ~ good oral technique and bed play, but no 'go-uppy' the cunt, or ass) and me not being Han Chinese, therefore being a 'Stinky Barbarian'. "Listen, I've never flown a commercial jet before and neither have you. Odds are we are both going to be dead in the next ten minutes. After all the hell you have put me through, can you at least give me some fucking inspiration. No one will ever know. Besides, imagining the perfect swell of your breast and the smooth tautness of your stomach, well, you are so damn perfect it is distracting!" I protested against the World's grand injustice (me not being Han and thus not worthy of seeing her goodies). "Do you really think we are all about to die?" she studied me. "I'm doing my best, but, yes, I believe we are," I stared deep into her dark brown orbs.'You are despicable,' Ishara chortled. 'I promise you, plant your seed and she will bear you a son.' "Very well, hold onto the controls," she said as she released her joystick. She rolled up her padded (high-tech body-weave) shirt carefully. I was a past master of looking while pretending not too look. Still, "Can I look yet?" I hesitantly questioned. Sure, we were about to slam an Airbus-350 into the Pacific Ocean, or a concrete runway, no lights, in a cyclone, but she was 'working it'. For all she knew, this striptease would be her last living memory. "No." A few seconds passed. "Now?" "No." Oh, her top was just cresting her highly aroused nipples, she had tiny, erect nipples. The smallest I had ever seen, but long, almost like tiny awls. Finally she'd played it out as long as possible. "Okay." "No, wait," I begged. "Let me make sure everything is stable. I want to look at you for as long as I can. This will probably be the last happy moment of my life, so I want to make the most of it." That made her happy. I puttered around for five seconds, then pivoted around to take in her full, topless view. I didn't say anything for the longest time. "Aren't you done yet," she grumbled. "We are about to crash." "Oh, sorry," I turned away. She rolled her top down quickly and we returned to trying to keep the people we loved most in life alive. I sensed as sense of disappointment in her nonetheless."Perfect," I whispered. She caught it. "What did you say? Is something wrong?" she worried, studying her crippled command console for any errors she might have missed. "I said 'perfect'. I knew it, your body is perfect," I confessed. Pause. "Oh, " "Now I have something to live for," I declared. "I will never let you see me naked again. This was a one-time thing!" "That's two things I have to live for then," I countered. "Bringing us in alive and seeing me naked once more?" she had to be sure. "I was going to say 'seeing you naked again' and 'living', but I can see that your priorities make more sense," I conceded. "Ah, you are right, that I am right." Pause. "Good luck." "On seeing you naked again, or surviving our landing." "Let's start out by landing the plane. "And then, Duan Zhen?" "We will see, Cáel Ishara."{9 pm, Tuesday, August 16th ~ 23 Days to go}{aka 2 am Wednesday, Aug. 17th ~ 22 Days to go (Havenstone time)}(The following is in Mandarin until I note otherwise)"What are you doing?" I struggled to keep the panic from my voice."Killing all these alarms," Zhen responded. She was grinding her teeth in frustration and fear. "There is nothing we can do to fix those problems.""My, right rudder, its barely responding," I grunted. This was fly-by-wire, not typical manual control, so my concern was entirely mental, not wanting to miss our turn south into the sole runaway on Johnston Atoll. With the steady degradation of the plane's electronics, we wouldn't make the 360 for another pass.Landing from the southern end of the runway would put the cyclone force winds behind us. There would be no way for the plane's two inexperienced pilots to make that miraculous landing happen. No, we had to approach form the north, into the winds and allow nature to slow us down."On it, I'm good," she confirmed that her co-pilot's systems were still doing their job. "Tell me when we are making our final approach." Zhen, my Seven Pillars of Heaven co-pilot (and designated assassin), couldn't see where we were going. Our avionics had perished earlier in this disaster.Goddess Dot Ishara was communicating with Goddess SzélAnya who was frolicking in this maelstrom; the Draconic Storm Divinity was in her element. Dot was 'in' her element as well ~ her last living mortal descendent (me), if you didn't count all those unborn offspring I'd been contributing to in the past few weeks.'Are you thinking about me, Wakko?' she whispered into my mind. I was Wakko Ishara. I was supposed to be Yakko, but that hadn't worked out. As the 'main girl' in the relationship between me, the leader of her Amazon House, and Yakko Ishara ~ my first Ishara ancestor ~ she earned the slot of Dot (see Warner Bros.) Ishara.One of her earliest gifts to me was to make my mind inviolate to ALL supernatural penetration which was the reason she was bothering to ask about my thoughts and intentions.'Yes,' I thought back. 'I'm worried you are expending too much energy on my behalf, Dot.''Opposed to leaving you alone with SzélAnya? I don't trust her around you. She'd make a little Dragon-offspring/avatar with you if I'm not careful.''If you aren't careful? Don't I get a say in all of this?''No. Trust me, she's clingy and you are more active than a whole temple of Babylon's whores. Her mortal avatar would further bond your two legends together and your Legend is already the prop, placed with House Ishara.' Translation: My Goddess was clingy. After all, she'd meant to say my legend was her 'property'."Flaps!" Zhen yelled at me. "Check your flaps. Mine keep shorting out.""On it," I replied. I'd 'zoned out', so she'd screamed at me to get my attention back on task. Altitude, 1200 meters, which meant flaps at, fuck if I knew."What do I set them, Oh Shit!" I realized I'd forgotten something horribly imperiling."What?" Zhen shot me a furious look."Fuel! We've got to start dumping the fuel!" I screamed."Why?""Fireball, Zhen. If we hit hard, this bitch will barbeque us," I spit the words. "Don't you watch any airplane crash movies?" I added."The Airbus 350 has plenty of, safeguards,""You mean like all the other ones that have failed us in the past half hour?""Opening main tanks #1 and #2," she grumbled. "If we are struck by another lightning bolt we could blow up in mid-air.""Won't happen," I feebly jested. "The Storm Goddess loves me.""Does she love my brother and I?""Nah. She wants you and everyone else on this plane dead, but she's humoring me right now.""Flaps," she reminded me. "Why would she care about you?""Having no other useful skills, I am a truly remarkable lover."Zhen spared me a blistering look."You have seized this aircraft from my brother, me and forty of our best Special Operations Strike Warriors. That does not qualify you as 'unskilled'," she lambasted me."Oh no? You should see a 'real' Amazon in action," I teased her. "I'm just an intern who hasn't yet completed his 84 day trial period." I also worked the flaps."Too much," she snapped. "If we drop below 400 kilometers per hour, these winds will slam us into the Pacific."I was adjusting the flaps appropriately as we began our final roll to the left when a cloud-to-cloud bolt of electricity coursed through our craft. We didn't blow up."Thank you, SzélAnya," I whispered."What?" Zhen worried. Fucking up now would be the end of us all.'Your gratitude is overdue, Cáel,' SzélAnya slipped her murmur into the crashing thunder and another lash of raw, natural fury. 'We will talk later.'"I thought you said she loves you.""Umm, did I forget to mention I told her I was going out for pizza and never called her back?""That makes no sense," Zhen glared at me briefly. I was gifted with a visual of our plane in perspective to the runway. Yay, five meter waves were smashing into the atoll. I adjusted our yaw to the right."We are three kilometers out," I advised her."Flaps, spoilers," I went over my limited Alal-knowledge. This stuff worked on a piston driven commercial liner and it was the only flight data I had."Landing gear," Zhen responded. She had to throttle up a little because all that drag was cutting into our speed.'You are being blown too far to the east,' SzélAnya advised. I did the best I could."What are you doing?" Zhen was starting to sweat."Responding to divine intervention.""I, I see it!" Zhen's panic turned to exultation as she could finally make out the pale concrete runway surrounded by the angry sea.Too disasters hit us simultaneously."The left landing gear is not fully deployed," Zhen cautioned me."We are coming in too fast anyway," I dryly noted. The Goddess had brought me in on target, but she knew nothing about aircraft aeronautics.The Airbus came down too hard, too fast and our left landing gear snapped on impact. Sarrat Irkalli's parting gift was decay. Every design weak point gave in. The front fuselage broke apart, my hand on the dagger slipped and the power died. The front 25% of the plane spun off to the west while the remainder shot down the runway and off the southern end of the island.Sadly we went off into the lagoon between the western side and the barrier reef. In a delayed bit of good fortune, our careening section went head to head against a massive storm surge."Go!" I screamed at Zhen.She snatched up her Jian that she had used to pin the undead necromancer Tsu. I was right behind her, though I did stop to retrieve Sarrat Irkalli's dagger and pluck the two bone reliquaries from his neck before following Zhen's tight, athletic buns out of the cockpit and toward Aya. My diminutive better half was still in her seatbelt and clutching the medical bag to her chest.(English) "Cáel, I think we are sinking," she noted with a twinge of concern and more courage than I felt like utilizing. As Zhen was rescuing her brother the enormity of my mistake sunk in. All the Seven Pillars people were unconscious thus unable to save themselves from drowning. Aya's survival came first. I'd worried about my 'would-be executioners' later.I swept up Aya so fast it took me a second to realize she was poking me. She had retrieved the trinkets Felix had given Mu, our phone cards, my Dot-treats and my Amazon blade. I quickly strapped the blade to my arm. The water was rushing in through the severed back section.I turned to see Zhen struggling with her brother. Her look said it all. She expected them both to die. She wouldn't abandon him to save herself and the waves were too rough to make it with him."Get as far as you can," I shouted to her over the typhoon strength winds. "I'll come back for you."Her face expressed how little faith she put in my promise. Zhen had no choice left to her. I cut off two lengths of seat-belt to give Aya a harness to wrap over my shoulder and opposite underarm. I used the second piece to create her harness I linked with my own. {Back to English as the primary language}"He'll come back for you," Aya tried to assure Zhen while I worked."Aya, take a deep breath then expel it," I advised. The second she did I dove into the water. I had never attempted to swim in water this nasty, but I had been dumped into a white water rapids before. That was the best I had.Somehow in the madness, I pointed myself in the right direction. Once more, the storm came to my rescue. Two monster waves picked us up and pushed us toward the edge of the runway.'Go to the north end of the island,' Ishara told me. There is a building there that will shelter you, and Cáel, I must leave now. Don't do it.''I can't not try,' I replied. 'Can you help Aya?' I gave one last appeal. No reply. I twisted southward to locate the next monster wave. My precious cargo pressed tightly to my upper torso, I flipped over so that my feet were facing toward the onrushing runway. I'm not as dumb as I look, or sound.I bent my knees in the same way they instruct you when you go cliff diving. Up we went. I pulled Aya and I as deep into the water as possible, up, up, crest and then down-down-down. My bare right foot hit something jagged and sharp. I'd worry about bleeding later. The momentum of that contact tried to tilt me head-first, but I resisted.My left foot slapped down on a hard, smooth, granular surface, the sea wall. Now I swam backwards with my free arm while I raced to get my right foot back under me. My body ended up surging forward, yet I was in control of my movements once more. I rolled with the impact, taking the brunt to my left shoulder while shielding Aya with my right. Three rolls and I was on my feet again."Aya!" I beseeched my companion."That was fun," she yelled back over the hurricane force winds. "Let's try to do this next year," the rest was lost. I kept staggering forward in about a foot of water that the storm had flooded over the land. I looked behind me.The next wave was unfriendly. The one behind that one appeared to be a lot like what I imagined a Berlin Wall-sized tombstone would look like. I ran. I survived the first wave then gave Aya a cautionary squeeze. I felt her tiny lungs inflate, soak up the salt-water spray and oxygen then flush the air back out.A few more steps then we plunged back sideways into the monster current ~ the wave had already crashed."What did you say?" I shook Aya as we surfaced once more."Next year, much later next year," she grinned up at me."Aya, do you think you can,""Yes. Go find them. You gave her your word," she hugged me."Stay on the runway, head north, Dot says there is a building up there that is still intact. Aya, take this," I handed her the pistol and a spare mag."Do you promise you won't let me die today?" she shouted over the winds. I had to think about that. Aya rammed the pistol and magazine into her medical bag's side pocket. Oaths had their own power and maybe, just maybe, Dot Ishara would help me honor this one."I swear to you, I will not let you die today," I yelled back."Then go and hurry," she hugged me as I cut her loose. "She needs you more than I do. Go!" With that, we separated. Aya slugged forward a few steps, was staggered by another wave then turned and gave me her 'thumbs up'.I turned to the south and the blinding winds and terrible surf. I had to try. Alal kicked in. Jumbo commercial airliners = no help. Shipwrecks = he'd survived a few. I mapped out in my mind the waves, winds and their direction relative to the plane. I could still make out its half-submerged shape.The edge of the runway had a U-shaped seawall which created a peak that channeled the waves. I couldn't see the structure itself due to the high tide, but I could locate the wall by watching the waves break. If I could get to the outside of the eastern peak, I would have an easier time going about this rescue. Also, if Zhen wasn't brought in by the same waves that saved Aya and I, she would be driven to the northwest, parallel to the island.I could intercept them. I'd effective killed everyone else. Maybe, I dove in.'Don't!'“Too late, SzélAnya,” I vaulted off the semi-submerged sea wall, then let the undertow pull me along the broken coral rocks the Navy had put there when they expanded the airfield in the 1960's.I kept my hands on the rocks, rock climbing in reverse. The waves passing overhead tried to pluck me up and return me to the land. I moved as rapidly as I could, until my muscles ached from the water's chill and oxygen starvation. My lungs were on fire. I let the next wave pull me up.Fortune favors the foolish should be my new motto. I broke the surface just after another large wave passed by. I kept my breathing short and steady, despite my burning hunger for air. Gulping air would only earn me a mouthful of salt water. I took the reprieve in the storm's efforts to drown me.The 'foolish' was waiting for me four meters away, slightly behind me and to the East. Zhen was being dragged past the atoll. I kept one eye on her progress and the other on the waves. A monster rolled up, I dove under and thus resurfaced less than two meters away. Zhen had Mu in a classic rescue swim position. He was still likely to suffocate in this downpour.The look in her eyes was, pure confliction. I cut through the last bit of ocean to be at her side. My first action was to point to the next tidal beast heading for us.(Mandarin) "I've got him. Dive beneath the wave," I hollered. Had she resisted, all three of us would have been screwed. She didn't.I took another deep breathe then sort of freaked her out. I clamped my mouth over Mu's and expelled my air into his lungs. My right arm snaked under his left with my hand grabbing the back of his head. I shoved his head tightly against my face, pressing his nose shut, then dove. Zhen was right behind me.After that, we had our routine down. Zhen took Mu every fourth wave. Breathing for both him and me was tough. I'd take him back for the fifth and slowly we made ourselves to the eastern shore. I hit first, fell flat on my face but kept a hold on Mu. I temporarily lost sight of Zhen. One life at a time.I lugged Mu up, staggered his unconscious and my exhausted forms a few feet and then was toppled by yet another wall of water. This time, when I returned to a standing position, I check Mu's breathing. He would make it. I few more steps, another wave. I kept my footing that time. Another, Zhen came careening our way from the North. The waves had swept her passed us.Zhen immediately looped her arm under Mu's right arm. That allowed her, me and our shared burden to slog another meter inland, then the next wave caught up with us. Zhen fell; I stumbled, but righted myself and thus kept Mu from being washed away. Zhen rolled a few feet forward, rebounded up, only to be shoved away when a gust of wind hit us.On her next attempt, she rejoined us. From that point onward, we were far enough away from the land's end so that we were slogging through standing water and could resist the waves that impacted us.(Mandarin) "You came back," she shouted.There were all kinds of romantic, chivalric and very true responses to that. I chose a half-lie. (Mandarin) "I really wanted to see your tits one more time," I yelled. The looks she gave me was priceless. She was convinced I was a lunatic ~ no doubt about it.While she puzzled out her reaction/retort, we chanced upon a Quonset hut. In its lee, we caught a break from the worst of the wind. We also picked up a little Epona who had made the same logical choice (to get out of the wind) as we had. My heart leapt for joy. She was grinning like an impish hellion as she tried to tell me something.I leaned down until her lips were touching my ear."I forgot to pack my swimsuit," she chortled."It's probably sitting at home along with my surfboard," I kissed her on the forehead. "How about we get inside, somewhere?" Aya nodded.(Mandarin) "Let's go," I roared. Zhen nodded briefly. We turned Mu around so we would be dragging him with his back to the winds. The journey to the structure SzélAnya had pointed me at (the J O C building) took over an hour and a half to cover the two kilometers. Along the way, Aya discovered her inner Peter Pan.That was the childish fiction I was going to use to explain what she did when I regaled this episode to her Mother, assuming we made it back. In common parlance, a gust of wind that must have been about 150 kilometers per hour picked her up and off she went. Hell, I'd honored my oath to Zhen. I dropped Mu and raced after my own personal good luck fairy.A freak micro-burst, shot Aya up so high I lost track of her in the rain.'Please'.I saw my tiny human javelin plummeting to earth several meters away. Aya had refused to mitigate her fate by releasing the medical bag. I jumped, caught her and took another hard spill to the ground, Aya on top of me. She said something to me.I made it back to my knees, clutching a standing Aya firmly to my chest."I said 'I've had enough fun for today," she sputtered. "Can we go inside now?"'You now owe me a life, I go,''Thank you'. If she heard me, she didn't acknowledge it. The storm didn't relent its assault, that was for sure.I couldn't risk losing Aya again. I had placed Zhen and Mu on solid ground so she returned to being my top priority. I slogged my way through the typhoon, cyclone, 'what have you', only to find a solid steel door between Aya and safety. I felt volcanic fury building up inside me. Then I remembered I still had a few firearms,The QCW spoke and the door popped opened. I raced around the first interior corner, deposited Aya, ran back to the door, reverse course, raced back to Aya, kissed her cheek then ran back out into the blinding rain and battering winds. Zhen was right where I'd left her. She had relied on me coming back, damn her.(The J S O C Building)Five minutes later, I had the Seven Pillars twins inside and the door wedged shut. We were all temporarily safe. Here and there small puddles of water had formed from leaks above, but otherwise the structure was solid, sound and safe. Zhen and Mu were on the opposite side of the room. After she tended to her brother, she looked my way.I took the medical bag from a wide-eyed and happy Aya."We are down to two of them," she shivered. "Perhaps you should ask her to surrender now, while they still can?" I snorted then chuckled."Do you really think the proud scions of Duan will bow before the Amazons?" I asked her. Aya fatigued mind worked that question over."No, you are right. I don't think they are smart enough to know when they are beat. Cáel, they called me 'Chǒul u de cuüw ', or something like that," Aya kept her eyes on Zhen. "What does that mean?" It took me a second to piece that together. You can tell a great deal about people if you catch them talking about you behind your backs, or when they think you can't understand what they are saying."Ugly Bug," I translated. Aya snorted."That was rude. We can call her 'L s la ninda'," she proclaimed loud enough for Zhen to hear, "and we can call him Amar."I had to applaud her choice of names for our would-be killers.See, L s la ninda roughly translated from Amazon to English as 'cupcake'. Amar was Amazon for 'calf' which was a play on his Mandarin name, 'Mu'."Dumu?" I indicated her. Aya's eyes sparkled. Duma was the diminutive for 'daughter'."Atta," she murmured back. That was 'respectful Father'; a title no Amazon girl had addressed a man with in, well maybe, ever. The term was largely religious and only used in the terms of female divinities referring to divine paternals."Take the gun," I withdrew the QSW-06 from the medical bag. "I'm going to take a look at Mu."I wasn't a surgeon, most of my medical skills were self-taught (I get hurt a great deal), I was personally acquainted with pain and I wasn't easily grossed out. Alal's past granted me beaucoup knowledge to fill in the gaps. Mu was going to be okay.His problems were the bullet hole, blood loss, our mutual damp condition and his complete exhaustion. Zhen knelt close by as I cut open his pants. The bullet was still in him. I was guessing the round had cracked his femur, not broken it. I cleaned out the wound with minimal disturbance to Mu's sleep. The antiseptic came next, followed by the wrapping and finally a syringe of general antibiotic.(Mandarin) "Let's find something to dress ourselves in and then we all need to get out of these wet clothes. If we don't shed these clothes soon, we'll get a chill we don't need," I advised.(Mandarin) "How bad is it?" she asked. She meant her brother's condition.(Mandarin) "He'll be okay. Feel free to try and kill me when you wish. He doesn't need me anymore." That, pretty much confirmed for her what she suspected, I was a lunatic.(Mandarin) "Well, okay. Thank you. I will not kill the child; I have given you my word."(Mandarin) "Are you talking about 'Ugly Bug'?"(Mandarin) "Oh. I thought she didn't know our language either," she blushed then frowned. "She never revealed she understood our words."(Mandarin) "She doesn't. Aya has a phenomenal memory. All Amazons are taught from a very young age to develop a strong eye for detail. This includes remembering words spoken around them, even if they don't know their meaning."That silenced her. The medical kit gifted us with five glow sticks.The women paired up to search the first, second, third and fourth floors; I didn't trust Zhen to find something useful and report it to me. I knew women. She wouldn't kill Aya tonight and Aya would keep her

Dr. Mateja Pezdirc Bartol v prispevku z naslovom Preseganje spolnih stereotipov v sodobni slovenski komediji (Ditka - Milena - Bogdana), raziskuje, v kolikšni meri slovenska komedija v 21. stoletju sledi spremenjeni vlogi moškega in ženske v družini in družbi ter se odmika od tradicionalnih reprezentacij telesa in spolnosti. V analizo avtorica vključuje slovenske komedije, ki družbene konstrukcije spolov, vlog in poklicev postavljajo pod vprašaj, se s spolnimi stereotipi poigravajo oziroma jih v določenih vidikih že tudi presegajo. Besedilo je v celoti objavljeno v reviji za teorijo scenskih umetnosti Amfiteater, letnik 12., številka 1, s tematskim naslovom Preživetje komedije. Vabimo vas k poslušanju! Na fotografiji Damjana Černe v uprizoritvi: Simona Semenič: jerebika, štrudelj, ples pa še kaj, režija Jure Novak, SMG in SNG Nova Gorica, sezona 2021/22, foto: Ivian Kan Mujezinović

Faisal war schon als junger Mann auf der Überholspur. Mit einem Senkrechtstart als Stand-Up Comedian feierte er schnelle Erfolge und erlangte große Bekanntheit. Doch hinter den Kulissen war nicht immer alles so lustig. In diesem Gespräch bekommst du mit, welche harten Prüfungen des Lebens er durchlaufen musste, um krisensicher zu werden. Und was ihm auf dem Weg geholfen hat. Spoiler: Psychedelika haben ihren Teil dazu beigetragen!Möchtest du auch einmal eine psychedelische Erfahrung machen? Erfahre mehr über unsere Psilocybin-Retreats auf: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.new-eleusis.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠ ✉️ Bleibe mit uns über unseren Newsletter in Verbindung: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠http://eepurl.com/iw2qiw⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

Rob interviews author, Paige Lavoie, about the Kickstarter for The Mothman in Love Trilogy: The Collector's Edition!

This is a rerelease of our June 2022 bonus episode where we covered “I Will Remember You.” Fear not, a fresh take on this episode is also in your feed just prior to this one. Watch the episode along with us, and then listen to Steph and Kara of three years ago!   Original episode notes   No, you are not hallucinating. We take a special road trip to LA, where Buffy is determined to confront Angel about his stalker-like yet heroic behaviour in “Pangs.” Of course, things don't go as planned. When Angel suddenly becomes human again—mortal, vulnerable, but very much alive—he and Buffy have decisions to make. What does this mean for his hero's journey? And can the broodiest vampire on Earth still brood, still be with Buffy, if he is just a mortal man?   Hear us discuss… How much we miss Cordelia! SMG and DB's incredible acting Just how much sex Buffy and Angel have in this ep. (So much.) Doyle has the worst timing for exposition ever Remember, this is all Xander's fault   Trigger warning Sex  

Something different: Steph and Kara watched “I Will Remember You” together and recorded their commentary. We start watching the episode at 06:11.   Watch along with us as Buffy visits Angel in Los Angeles for the first time. She's not happy with him, but their fight is interrupted by a demon attack that accidentally transforms Angel into a human. At first, he and Buffy revel in his newfound sense and sensitivity. Yet Angel quickly realizes he's not cut out for fighting evil in a mortal form, and he petitions the Powers That Be for a tragic do-over.   Hear us discuss… The incredible lighting, blocking, and camera work We continue to stan Mora for bringing Angel and Buffy together Angel is still a hero in our eyes The pathos of Angel and Buffy's tragic story arc Kara retracts all previous criticism of SMG's tears!!   Trigger warning Sex  

Bjarne und Hanna sind in Berlin im Studio vereint und besprechen die aktuellen Entwicklungen bei den Oscars, die Gewinner der Critics' Choice Awards und das kommende Buffy-Revival. Hauptdarstellerin Sarah Michelle Gellar, aka SMG, kehrt zurück und verzaubert uns derzeit auch im Dexter-Prequel Dexter: Original Sin, das wir mittlerweile gerne schauen.Außerdem haben wir den neuen Schweden-Krimi Die Äre-Morde, das deutsche Robo-Drama Cassandra und die erste Episode der dritten Staffel von The White Lotus für euch geschaut. Aber natürlich spoilern wir die neue Thailand-Staffel nicht, denn wir wollen noch eine Podcast-Episode dazu aufnehmen, wenn die Staffel am 17. Februar in Deutschland bei Sky/Wow startet.Bei den Neustarts beschäftigen wir uns besonders intensiv mit dem deutschen True-Crime-Drama Spuren aka Spuren am Samstag.Hier geht es zu weiteren Informationen von Spuren: https://www.serienjunkies.de/spuren/ Timestamps:News0:00:00 Wilkommen zurück Hanna!0:01:30 Oscars, Critics Choice Awards 0:08:00 Buffy Revival, HOTD0:15:00 Magic - The Gathering - The Movie??!?!, McConaughey und Harrelson in neuer Apple-Serie0:20:00 English Teacher Verlängerung trotz Kontroverse, Ben Stiller in neuer HBO-Musikserie0:25:00 Trailer Deepdive Reviews 0:31:00 Dexter: Original Sin, The Äre Murders Schweden, Ghosts - US0:37:00 White Lotus S3, Cassandra0:40:00 Neustarts der WocheHanna Twitter/ X: https://twitter.com/HannaHuge Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/mediawhore.bsky.social Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mediawhore BjarneBluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/bjarnebock.bsky.socialSankt Podcast: https://open.spotify.com/show/0ztNeRqXyxw8Z5QpelTjnC Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

News of a Buffy reboot and finally a teaser for Fantastic Four. So much could go wrong with these projects so we're mixing excitement and dread for both. What do you think of the FF trailer, and should SMG be the main character in the Buffy reboot?

SUPPORT THE MOTHMAN IN LOVE KICKSTARTER TODAY! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/4horsemenpubs/mothman-in-love-triology-the-collectors-edition-0   ABOUT THE MOTHMAN IN LOVE TRILOGY 22-year-old Heather is suffering from an epic case of burnout. So, just like any other young influencer, she abandons her social platforms. Check! gathers up her best flowy dresses. Check! moves to a desolate cabin. Check! Heather imagines spending her #unplugged days traipsing through the woods and tending to her garden. However, her cottagecore fantasy is turned upside down when a wounded cryptid crashes into her roof—and her heart. With no help from her internet followers and the local monster-hunter growing suspicious, Heather's quiet life in the wilderness has suddenly become a little more complicated. To make matters worse, she thinks she might be falling in love with the brooding winged man in her living room.  ABOUT PAIGE LAVOIE Paige Lavoie is a Halloween-loving cinnamon roll who writes stories about misfits, monsters, and falling in love. Her affection for cozy autumn moments, charming protagonists, and all things cute and creepy is reflected in the worlds she creates.  Originally from Michigan, Paige grew up in a haunted house in the suburbs, exploring historic cemeteries and filling her notebooks with ideas. In her teens, she began a long-running webcomic that turned into her first comic series Pumpkin Spiced. She's always been drawn to the "cutesy side of spooky" which you can see in her work on such titles as I'm In Love With Mothman and Our Own Little Underworld.   When Paige isn't writing, she can be found hunting for treasures at the local antique mall and sipping oat milk lattes under a lacey parasol as she hides from the sun in her home state of Florida.  Social Media Instagram – paigelavoieauthor Tiktok – paigelavoieauthor Threads – paigelavoieauthor Facebook - paigelavoieauthor  MAILING LIST LINK https://paigelavoie.us11.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=ff06c0597ada8f7cd250aa3fd&id=4e7fb66096   _______________________________________________________________ One easy way to support this show is to rate and review Read Between the Lines wherever you listen to our podcast.  Those ratings really help us and help others find our show. Read Between the Lines is hosted by Molly Southgate and is produced/edited by Rob Southgate for Southgate Media Group.    Follow this show on Facebook @ReadBetweentheLinesPod Follow our parent network on Twitter at @SMGPods Make sure to follow SMG on Facebook too at @SouthgateMediaGroup Learn more, subscribe, or contact Southgate Media Group at www.southgatemediagroup.com.   Check out our webpage at southgatemediagroup.com

Warren and his incel brethren move onto another nefarious plot by creating a magical orb with the capability to force people into being their plaything. Warren seizes that fish- and uses it on his ex Katrina- forcing her into servitude. Meanwhile Buffy has some complex thoughts about fooking Spike and what that means about her. Rewatch & Listen as we talk about changing perceptions of the Trio, Ash relates to Dawn, and we all side with SMG on a hot take about a scene from this episode.And don't forget to follow us at the_rewatcher on Instagram for special bonus content!!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

ABOUT DOWNPOUR A sudden storm appears above an isolated farmhouse in rural Illinois, bringing with it a relentless and unnatural rain. A rain that eats away at everything it touches. A rain that turns people into monsters. Trapped inside his crumbling home, a father must do everything he can to keep his family from falling apart. But the rain calls to them, and not everyone wants to stay inside. Haunted by memories of loss, he must put aside his painful past and find a way to keep them all safe. But the rain shows no signs of stopping, and time is running out. From the award-winning author of Suburban Monsters comes a heartbreaking tale of survival and terror.   ABOUT CHRISTOPHER HAWKINS Born and raised near the shores of Lake Michigan, Christopher Hawkins has been writing and telling stories for as long as he can remember. A dyed-in-the-wool geek, he is an avid collector of books, roleplaying games and curiosities. When he's not writing, he spends his time exploring old cemeteries, lurking in museums, and searching for a decent cup of tea. Christopher is an award-winning author and the former editor of the One Buck Horror anthology series. His works of short fiction have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies, including Cosmic Horror Monthly, Fusion Fragment, Underland Arcana and The Big Book of New Short Horror. He is a member of the Chicago Writers Association and the Chicagoland chapter of the Horror Writers Association. An expatriate Hoosier, Christopher currently lives in a suburb of Chicago with his wife and two sons.   _______________________________________________________________ One easy way to support this show is to rate and review Read Between the Lines wherever you listen to our podcast.  Those ratings really help us and help others find our show. Read Between the Lines is hosted by Molly Southgate and is produced/edited by Rob Southgate for Southgate Media Group.    Follow this show on Facebook @ReadBetweentheLinesPod Follow our parent network on Twitter at @SMGPods Make sure to follow SMG on Facebook too at @SouthgateMediaGrouLearn more, subscribe, or contact Southgate Media Group at www.southgatemediagroup.com.   Check out our webpage at southgatemediagroup.com

Buy/Stream: https://overview.fanlink.tv/OVR100-OMGF-Remix Overview Music presents the next part of it's 100th release project and a fully club-focused remix from Dutch powerhouse Waeys Ahead of Overview100 Part 2, Waeys provides the lead single with a classically audacious spin on SMG's debut 2024 Overview appearance 'OMGF' Out 3.1.25 Overview Music https://overviewmusic.co.uk https://patreon.com/overview https://facebook.com/overviewuk https://instagram.com/overviewuk https://twitter.com/overviewuk https://soundcloud.com/overviewuk

The grocery retail industry in India is undergoing a major transformation, driven by AI-powered solutions that bridge the gap between online and offline experiences. In this episode of To the Edge and Beyond, Michelle Dawn Mooney speaks with Rakshit Daga, Chief Product & Technology Officer at BigBasket; Raghavendra Bhat, Principal Engineer at Intel Corporation; Nitin Bajaj, Director, SMG at Intel Corporation; and D. Baskaramoorthy, Vice President Sales at Posiflex India.Rakshit Daga shares how BigBasket uses computer vision-based self-checkout to streamline operations in physical stores. “AI helps us provide a seamless and efficient shopping experience for customers. Our edge-based checkout systems identify products, weigh them, and bill instantly without human intervention. This innovation drives operational efficiency while delighting customers.”To achieve real-time performance, Raghavendra Bhat discusses how Intel's Tiger Edge Platform powers AI inferencing at the edge. “Moving AI closer to the store reduces latency and bandwidth costs while enabling a faster checkout process. Intel's edge solution ensures cloud-like ease of management, giving retailers greater flexibility and scalability.”Hardware plays a pivotal role in this ecosystem. D. Baskaramoorthy highlights how Posiflex customizes dual OS POS systems to meet BigBasket's specific requirements. “Our hardware integrates weighing scales, scanners, and AI-driven recognition into a single device, providing a seamless sub-30-second checkout experience that keeps customers coming back.”Nitin Bajaj emphasizes the power of collaboration: “Intel's ecosystem strategy connects technology partners to build innovative, scalable solutions. The collaboration between Intel, BigBasket, and Posiflex demonstrates how AI can transform the retail landscape.”By integrating AI and edge computing, this partnership sets new benchmarks for omnichannel retail, enhancing customer satisfaction and operational efficiency.You can reach out to our guests on LinkedIn:Rakshit DagaRaghavendra BhatNitin BajajD. BaskaramoorthySubscribe to To The Edge and Beyond on Apple Podcasts and Spotify for more insights from Intel's Internet of Things Group.

The grocery retail industry in India is undergoing a major transformation, driven by AI-powered solutions that bridge the gap between online and offline experiences. In this episode of To the Edge and Beyond, Michelle Dawn Mooney speaks with Rakshit Daga, Chief Product & Technology Officer at BigBasket; Raghavendra Bhat, Principal Engineer at Intel Corporation; Nitin Bajaj, Director, SMG at Intel Corporation; and D. Baskaramoorthy, Vice President Sales at Posiflex India.Rakshit Daga shares how BigBasket uses computer vision-based self-checkout to streamline operations in physical stores. “AI helps us provide a seamless and efficient shopping experience for customers. Our edge-based checkout systems identify products, weigh them, and bill instantly without human intervention. This innovation drives operational efficiency while delighting customers.”To achieve real-time performance, Raghavendra Bhat discusses how Intel's Tiger Edge Platform powers AI inferencing at the edge. “Moving AI closer to the store reduces latency and bandwidth costs while enabling a faster checkout process. Intel's edge solution ensures cloud-like ease of management, giving retailers greater flexibility and scalability.”Hardware plays a pivotal role in this ecosystem. D. Baskaramoorthy highlights how Posiflex customizes dual OS POS systems to meet BigBasket's specific requirements. “Our hardware integrates weighing scales, scanners, and AI-driven recognition into a single device, providing a seamless sub-30-second checkout experience that keeps customers coming back.”Nitin Bajaj emphasizes the power of collaboration: “Intel's ecosystem strategy connects technology partners to build innovative, scalable solutions. The collaboration between Intel, BigBasket, and Posiflex demonstrates how AI can transform the retail landscape.”By integrating AI and edge computing, this partnership sets new benchmarks for omnichannel retail, enhancing customer satisfaction and operational efficiency.You can reach out to our guests on LinkedIn:Rakshit DagaRaghavendra BhatNitin BajajD. BaskaramoorthySubscribe to To The Edge & Beyond podcast on Apple Podcasts and Spotify to stay updated with more insights from leaders in the Intel and Edge Network group.

On this episode a wise man talks to me about problems with success. Check out Sarcarrogance coat drive at SMG's Cares Get Tickets here: ► @sarcarrogance Use Promo Code for Free Tickets: UNCLE or THEAUNT Please don't forget to Subscribe to the Page: ► @uncle_pooche901‬ ► ‪@Sarcarrogance‬ ► @the_jest3r_smg WATCH MY COMEDY SPECIAL: The Aunt Luva pt. 1 ► • The Aunt Luva: Vol. 1 Check out the websites ►https://waferzonline.com/ ► https://www.sarcarrogance.com/ LISTEN TO MY PODCAST: ► https://open.spotify.com/show/55YfaUG... ► https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast.. --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/6ftunderpodcast/support

ABOUT THE CASE OF THE BLEEDING WALL   Dana Roberts, seasoned investigator of the supernormal, is called to Italy by an ex-lover to investigate a strange phenomenon—the mystery of a bleeding wall. She meets Jana Davis at a book signing event, and together they head to Italy in search of answers. Are they dealing with a haunted house? A demon perhaps? Or a vengeful specter from the other side? Dana has battled angry jinns, malevolent shadows, ancient travelers, and soul-sucking shapeshifters, but in The Case of the Bleeding Wall, she and her new sidekick, Jana, may face their most dangerous challenge yet.     ABOUT JOE R LANSDALE Joe Richard Lansdale (born October 28, 1951) is an American writer and martial arts instructor. A prose writer in a variety of genres, including Western, horror, science fiction, mystery, and suspense, he has also written comic books and screenplays.[1][2] Several of his novels have been adapted for film and television.[3] He is the winner of the British Fantasy Award, the American Horror Award, the Edgar Award, and eleven Bram Stoker Awards. ABOUT KASEY LANSDALE Kasey Lansdale (born June 24, 1988) is an American country music singer-songwriter from Nacogdoches, Texas. Lansdale is also known for her work as an author, editor, actress, and producer, as well as host and founder of the East Texas Songwriter's Workshop. Her full-length debut album Restless[1] was released on August 20, 2013, on Blue Siren Records; it was co-produced by Mike Clute and Kasey Lansdale.[2] The Executive Producer is John Carter Cash.[3]   _______________________________________________________________ One easy way to support this show is to rate and review Read Between the Lines wherever you listen to our podcast.  Those ratings really help us and help others find our show. Read Between the Lines is hosted by Molly Southgate and is produced/edited by Rob Southgate for Southgate Media Group.    Follow this show on Facebook @ReadBetweentheLinesPod Follow our parent network on Twitter at @SMGPods Make sure to follow SMG on Facebook too at @SouthgateMediaGrouLearn more, subscribe, or contact Southgate Media Group at www.southgatemediagroup.com.   Check out our webpage at southgatemediagroup.com

Ash Men, Sins, and the Will of the Ancestors. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. ‘Do you think you know who you are? Step outside your comfort zone.'  11:00 p.m. Thursday Night. Rhada stood by the Lily Pond. She'd looked at her phone once. A couple had walked past, causing me to delay my approach and heightened Rhada's unease; an unexpected bonus. It wasn't too difficult of a shot with my air pistol. The only light functioning in the area went out in a crash of light. She jumped slightly then crouched and scanned the surrounding overgrowth. The light had robbed her of her night vision which allowed me to get close. I snapped the air pistol off into its three parts. Running around with any kind of gun in NYC wasn't wise. In the same vein, the 'stun gun' I now brandished was all light and no shock. It was all theater for Rhada's imagination. With the flash of my weapon, Rhada's eyes bore in on my location. Her small knife was now over-matched, so her only option was flight. A smart 'victim' would race for the well illuminated road close by. Hunters who hunted hunters did what Rhada did; she raced into a geographic feature in Central Park called the Ravine. It was tough, uneven terrain off the beaten path. I had walked it once before, in dim light. This night I was aided by a half-Moon and the faintest clue of where the chase was leading while Rhada was having to figure things out as she ran. At the last second, she sensed she had lost the race. She spun around to slash at me; she was playing for keeps. I swung down, losing my false stun device while I knocked her knife free. I had lashed downward so that I could find her knife later; it was important to her. My tool cost $3 and I could live without it. We struggled. Rhada tried to scream so I covered her mouth with my sweater-covered forearm. Dutifully, she bit down. More close body wrestling ensued and I could tell Rhada was truly famished for the attention. I cuffed her hands behind her back, slapped some Christmas tape over her lips; I swear that stuff has no adhesive; and retrieved her knife. ‘What is it going to be, little Sweet-meat?' I taunted her softly as I caught my breath. I had Rhada pressed face-first in the loam. Despite her strenuous efforts to keep her legs together, I rubbed my hand between her legs. ‘Fuck it,' I mused. ‘You are a real whore. You are soaking wet over some guy running you down and making you a fuck-hole.' I wasn't sure she was wet and being called 'fuck-hole' really excited her. ‘You are probably so loose I couldn't feel a thing if I did fuck you,' I kept up the pressure. ‘Maybe I'll strip you down and leave you tied to a lamp post; write 'Free Slut' and see who is desperate enough to screw you. If I said '$5 per hole', do you think anyone would leave some sort of payment?' She whimpered. Soon enough, I located her knife. Without warning, I slipped it past her waistband and began sawing/cutting her pants down past the crotch. She was wet alright. I loudly unzipped my pants. After slapping against her molten labia a few times, ‘What? You don't want to be used by every diseased homeless deviant and drunk rapist roaming the park?' Rhada shook her head rapidly in the negative. ‘Do you really think you can do a damn thing to make me want to keep you?' I egged her on. Rhada thrust her ass back. Rhada whined, repositioned and managed to capture on her second attempt. She wept with rapture as I began pushing. All I had to do was lean forward slightly and let Rhada do all the work. She hammered with a voracious yearning. I was rather concerned what she would have been like if it had been a whole month. Rhada was sobbing and shuddering as pleasure wracked her body. I almost missed the soft crunch of leaves right behind me. I snatched up Rhada's knife and rolled halfway over. Oneida, tears in her eyes and her face etched in horror, was poised to strike me. ‘No,' Oneida groaned in a small, devastated voice. Yeah, this was going to be hard to explain. Rhada, on hearing the noise, rolled on her side so that she was mostly shielded by me. Do not scream 'this is not what it looks like', or 'let me explain' to a traumatized girlfriend. Wait until they are not traumatized to escape the disaster. ‘What are you going to do?' I whispered. Suggest that she make a decision because, guess what, she needs to make decision, not stew in the madness of the moment. ‘How could you?' Oneida lowered her attack stance and took a half-step back. ‘There is no way I can explain this,' I sighed. My legs came up to shield my exposed crotch plus I dropped Rhada's knife. ‘Even if I could make this sound rational, I wouldn't put you in that spot. This is an impossible reality.' Okay, that last bit was bullshit. ‘Is Rhada okay?' Oneida began to focus on the immediate and relegated the past five minutes and the forthcoming repercussions to 'things to do later'. I freed Rhada's hands and then removed the tape. Rhada picked up her blade and readied it. ‘Ask her yourself,' I suggested. Sensing Rhada's insanity rising up. ‘No Rhada, you cannot stab her. I won't allow it.' Rhada glared pure, un-distilled hate at Oneida, something the poor girl couldn't understand. ‘Rhada, I came here to save you,' Oneida gasped. She also prepared to fight. ‘You came to take my Cáel for yourself,' Rhada spat. Oneida was back to not understanding anything. It would come soon enough. Women are women after all. ‘I need to; get something from my backpack,' I warned them both. No one attacked me so I pulled out a set of black jeans and black panties for Rhada. ‘You brought a change of clothes for her?' Oneida was still playing 'kinky games' catch up. ‘Of course he brought me clothes, you insipid fool,' Rhada seethed. ‘How could we bind our souls into one if I had to walk around; ?' Rhada stopped. The idea of walking around naked in my presence appealed to her. ‘None of this makes any sense,' Oneida protested. It didn't matter. ‘Oneida, are your guardians close by?' I asked. I knew the answer, but getting that information out to these to ladies was relevant. Oneida nodded. ‘Rhada, get dressed and go home. Oneida, go home. I'll try to have this make sense to you one day,' I said. ‘No!' Rhada yelped as if I'd stuck her. ‘I cannot wait any longer.' ‘Rhada, unless you want Madi to find out and then have ringside seats as starving dogs tear me to pieces, you have to go,' I insisted. I wasn't afraid of hungry dogs. The Amazons wouldn't waste the time when they could slit my throat and be done with it. We all three heard a rustle of footsteps maybe fifteen meters away. Rhada looked at me as if she'd witnessed the murder of every kitten on the planet, then shot venom Oneida's way and finally snuck off, new clothes in hand. Oneida gave me a different look, one etched in sadness and unspoken heartache. She went off to bump into her bodyguards. I holstered my 'junk' and sat back, wondering why I dated crazy women. The answer was always the same; the sex was fantastic. I'd pay the bill later. (Friday Morning) I was damn tired getting into work. I locked my bike, walked into the lobby and realized something was horribly wrong. A dozen pairs of eyes riveted me with their aggression. The security chicks were in their usual places and unsettling in their nervousness. The dozen sets of eyes; those were Full-Blooded killers, not the standard 'Runner' security types. Adding to my discomfort, there was no Constanza, or even Naomi. A few of the normal ladies from the Security Detail where there; sadly, I had never caught their names, but they didn't look like they were waiting for me specifically. I walked up to the security booth, took out my ID badge and offered it up. What followed was mere formality. Of all of the hundreds of males in biker clothes coming into this masculine version of the Sixth layer of Hell, they needed to be absolutely sure it was me. ‘Cáel Nyilas,' the women at the guard station intoned and in they swarmed. Armed with personal defense weapons (read: SMG's) with hair-triggers, I had a split second to decide who I really was. A few were clearly SD. The rest; House Guard for families I didn't recognize. ‘Have I just won Publisher's Clearing House sweepstakes, or what?' I grinned foolishly. I'm sure you can be very cool, calm, collected and rational while you laugh at death. I'm not that guy. One of the brutes tried to run off with my valise, a quick tug of war developed and four gun barrels were pushed into me. ‘Let go,' one of them hissed. ‘Do I at least get a claim check?' I countered. What I got was a gun barrel slammed down on the back of my hand. My fingers automatically flexed and my carrying case was taken away. The remaining seven members of the Welcome Wagon hustled me to a stairwell; not an elevator and down I went. Two proceeded me into a moderately sized conference down two levels with the rest following behind. We were doing fine until the coffle chains came out. That was my 'screw it' moment. It took me two seconds to realize they were no longer going to shoot me. I came to this revelation when I smashed the face of the guard right behind me. She stumbled into guards four through seven behind her. Guards one and two, already in the room, holding my chains, rushed in. One came in with a low sweeping kick. I went even lower, caught her leg and whipped her into the wall. I was on my back as number two advanced. Our legs tangled up, we both grappled, but I had strength and leverage. I pounded her temple against the corner of the table twice; hard. Then came the pain. The rest flooded the room. Number two was down, number one was momentarily stunned and the other five were deadly serious and coming on fast. To all our credits, they didn't try to overwhelm me with numbers. They closed in from both sides of the table, backing me against a wall. I was pretty good at fighting. I had damaged three of them striking from surprise. Surprise was gone now, as was their sloppy arrogance. This was all business and there was no way I could take on even two of these skilled warriors at the same time. Any advantage I gained over one, I'd lose to the other one so down I went. I was chained up before I could stop seeing double. Collar, hands cuffed at the back, leg shackles and all linked by twin chains. I wasn't going anywhere fast. I wasn't done yet. I tried to squirm around to a sitting position. ‘Stop that,' one of the guards stated. ‘I'd like to sit up, please,' I requested. With barely a pause, two guards came up, put my back to a wall then went back to their positions. ‘Thank you,' I responded. Several guards looked at me and smirked. Huh? ‘They all said you would fight,' the leader grinned. ‘We were getting a little disappointed then you chose that chokepoint to make your stand. That was clever,' she informed me. ‘Actually it was the sight of the chains that set me off,' I said. ‘Against seven of you I had no realistic chance. If I let myself get chained up, I knew I was completely out of options.' Several of the women nodded. Were any of them pissed? Apparently not. Even the one I'd cold-conked rubbed her temple and smiled at me. I worked in an insane asylum. ‘Is there any way I could make a video message?' I inquired. ‘No,' was the reply. ‘Please. Aya of the Epona is at Summer Camp and I want her to know that I'm okay, but won't be able to see her for a while,' I pled my case. ‘You will never be able to see her again, so why bother?' another asked. ‘I love her. Better to give her the illusion I may one day return than the harsh reality that she is doomed to end up like the rest of you,' I explained. ‘Save some of that defiance for your relocation,' the leader snickered. ‘You'll need it.' ‘Thanks. I will,' I sighed. There was a pause. They were being rather gregarious. ‘You've accepted your fate?' the one I'd knocked out questioned. ‘The fate you want for me? No. That this will mean my death; yes,' I shrugged. ‘Bravado,' a different Amazon snorted. ‘You think so? Once I am relocated I have nothing left to live for. Every ounce of my being will be devoted to ending the hollow parody of an existence I'm left with,' I stared at her. ‘I've beaten your ilk enough times to know I'll escape that life before too long.' That earned me some silence. They began talking amongst themselves. The group was a mixed group of House Guard and Security Detail reinforcements from other facilities. They either knew each other, or knew someone in common. An hour in, this had become incredibly boring. ‘When is the meeting?' I asked a women temporarily not in a conversation. She didn't look surprised. She hid it well. ‘What meeting?' she countered. I lowered my chin to my chest. ‘Do you know where I work, what I did yesterday, or how easy it was to figure this out?' I looked up. ‘What do you know?' she prodded. The others were now watching. ‘I work for Executive Services, I spent much of yesterday making housing arrangements for a ton of emergency visitors, and since I've been doing so many stupid things, plus my reception this morning, I assume the New Directive is under attack,' I laid out my case. ‘If you figured all that out, why did you show up today?' the leader wondered. ‘I work here. I have a 6:00 am session on the firing range. Work starts at 7:00 and normally goes to 5:00 with a 3:00 pm break for knife training. Then I either bike home, or work out in the gym, or the pool. Barring being called back to work on a special order, I get a date, a meal and then sex until midnight,' I mused. ‘I came to work today for the same reason I came in yesterday and last week; I work for a bunch of homicidal lunatics, a few of whom I care for,' I answered. ‘Their friendship and affection is pointless. I'm good-looking and amusing, a passing distraction in their lives and none of that matters one iota to my survival. I face my condemnation alone and I am okay with that.' ‘You sound angrier than your words indicate,' an Amazon noted. ‘I am angry. I don't desire death,' I shrugged. ‘I don't think I deserve this fate yet here we are. Personally, I know I put my hope in karmic rewards for all of us.' ‘What would that be?' the leader said. She was making small talk to alleviate the boredom. ‘Today; today I think you deserve a lingering, 24 hour torturous death. Starting with the very youngest followed by the next youngest and the next youngest proceeding in quick succession so that the oldest of you watch your lineages waste away. I want you gripped with hopelessness and despair as you are rendered powerless to control your futures. That's a fitting ending for the Amazon race today,' I stated. ‘Does that fantasy make you feel better?' she pressed, somewhat amused. ‘Of course not,' I laughed. ‘That is surrendering to hate and that would make me as bad as all of you.' ‘You know nothing of us,' she said and the others laughed. ‘Yeah; right. So, how many of you have murdered your paternal unit? Did you herd them into gas chambers, shoot them in the head, or slit their throats?' I grinned. ‘Do you dump those men and your sons in a massed unmarked graves, or burn them like rubbish? Those poor bastards have gotten the last laugh,' I chuckled. ‘Sterile females, deformed babies; you taught those men a lesson alright.' ‘You are all such epic bad-asses, you've butchered your way to extinction. But, hey, you've got your racial superiority, right?' I chortled. ‘You should shut up now,' the leader's eyes narrowed. I shrugged. This time, I had killed the mood so we sat in silence. An undetermined time later, Constanza stormed in and threw my clothes at me; no sign of the rest of my gear, or valise. ‘Get dressed,' she ordered. ‘Why?' I asked. She kicked me. The kick was aimed at my ribs, but I able to set up a knee block up in time. ‘You will do it because you've been told to do it,' Constanza snapped. I stayed where I was. ‘Help me get him dressed,' she addressed the room. I lost the fight if there was any doubt. I looked like a re-dressed corpse. No one would think I'd dressed myself. A few minutes later, the whole troupe plus Constanza frog-marched me to the elevators. I was shackled up thus taking small steps. I ended up farther down that I'd ever been before. Along the way I was given several quick examinations before being taken to two massive wooden doors with two SD guards, one being Naomi. She looked at my chains speculatively. ‘He has been summoned,' Constanza informed the door guards. One of my initial capturers began unlocking my restraints. I debated putting a knee to her head. That seemed rude so I refrained from violence. Naomi took me by the elbow while the other guard opened one of the doors. She led me into the nearly empty, cavernous room. Eight SD troopers were along the walls and Elsa stood at attention close to what I reasoned was Hayden's chair. ‘Stand there,' Elsa pointed to a large piece of slate with a rune upon it. ‘Sure,' I did as I was instructed. ‘Why am I here?' ‘Your only real hope is to be quiet and well-behaved, Cáel,' Elsa told me, resuming her statuesque stance. I honestly figured this was it for me. My jacket came off. I threw it to the closest chair. The tie came off next, looping it through my belt; because it looked weird. I kicked off my shoes and removed my socks, stuffing the socks in the shoes and tossing them to the chair with my jacket. Then I started my morning warm up routine. Sure enough, groups of paired women began entering the room, giving me odd looks before taking their seats. I was doing some handstand push-up (thanks Yasmin) when Katrina walked in with a woman I didn't know. ‘Good morning Cáel Nyilas,' she said. ‘This is my cousin, Arwen.' The push-up, tuck, flip and finishing up with landing on your feet ain't easy. I added to the difficult by successfully landing on my designated piece of slate floor. ‘Did your clothing magically fall of, or did they fail to finish dressing you?' Katrina smirked. ‘Cut me some slack, Boss. I'm three insults away from slinging poo,' I grinned back. ‘Nice to meet you, Arwen,' I offered my hand. She looked at it, but didn't shake. ‘She's your apprentice?' I groaned to Katrina. She nodded. ‘That is so not good for me. What did I do wrong this time?' ‘She thinks I have invested too much of our House prestige in this New Directive and you in particular,' Katrina enlightened me. ‘What is her survival stratagem then?' I ignored Arwen while addressing Katrina. ‘Have her cake and eat it too,' Katrina mused. ‘She thinks we recruit males then kidnap them and make them our slaves; because that has worked so well for us until now. To be fair, she favors genetics while ignoring such things as spirit, courage and loyalty.' ‘I'm about to die so any insight I might provide is pointless,' I shrugged. ‘Take care Katrina.' ‘Male, we are not here to kill you. You will be taken to a facility for breeding,' Arwen 'clarified' things for me. Katrina and I both broke out in laughter. Arwen didn't get it. More and more women came in. With them arrived more House Guard. Soon the once vast room seemed to not be big enough. Among other fans of yours truly was Ursula, the woman who sent Leona to kill me with her bow. It didn't take me long to determine there were four distinct groups. The smallest group hated my heart for daring to beat. The largest group seemed uncertain that me having a functioning cerebral cortex was a good thing. The second largest group was worried; about their very existence, but weren't sure I was the answer. The final group, nearly as big as the next largest group, was Hayden's pro-New Directive faction. As a plus, they also weren't afraid to show me some affection personally. When there were only seven chairs left unfilled, Hayden rose for the opening prayer. The 'junior' members started the chorus as the last 'senior' joined the main intonation. When the chanting ended, everyone but Hayden sat back down. ‘A small number of issues necessitate this unheralded meeting,' Hayden began. ‘A male knows our language, our nature and the secret. I seek guidance.' And then the shit-storm began. The only people not involved were Hayden, Saint Marie on Hayden's right, and an unknown older Amazon I didn't know. My life was being debated and I was losing in a bad way. Beyoncé rallied support for me. She was sadly outnumbered but persistent. Among the oldest houses I saw Oneida sitting junior with house Arinniti. Her house was the only one silent, which seemed rather odd. A consensus was reached. I would get to live, but I would be imprisoned for the rest of my existence; not even a breeding male. That was my 'reward' for channeling the ancestors thus saving Oneida's life. Hayden rose once more, took a hand count and raised her hand for quiet. ‘I will consult with the ancestors on this matter,' Hayden announced. ‘Does anyone have other salient points to add?' That was perfunctory. Everyone had already spoken so when the head of House Arinniti stood up, everyone around her whispered in confusion. She lightly slapped her hand on the table for attention. ‘I do, High Priestess,' the woman stated. Even Oneida looked worried and confused. ‘I recognize Shawnee, Head of House Arinniti,' Hayden nodded then resumed seating. ‘My sisters, I seek your agreement that you refrain from comment before I have made my three key statements,' Shawnee requested. She looked around the room, getting nods; some reluctant. (1)'First, I must confess to a crime against the Host and the Council,' Shawnee began. There were hushed murmurs. ‘At the end of the Second Betrayal, my house argued tirelessly for the salvation of the males who remained loyal. The Council voted against us so the head of my house defied the council and spared three of our sons.' Murmurs became shouts of outrage. Hayden used a subtle voice of menace to restore order. (2) ‘Second, Two Ash Men arrived after the rest; a veteran fighter of three and a half decades and a young man of twenty years. Knowing there was no hope for our sons, we took these two aside and instructed them to take our sons south, to a dubious future. That was our crime and it might never have been revealed if it wasn't for the New Directive.' ‘As you now know, Oneida, my granddaughter and heir, gave her Death Pledge. Cáel Nyilas intervened and, acting as a vessel for the Ancestors, he showed Hayden that her pledge had been rejected; for the first time in 3000 years,' Shawnee looked around the table. ‘At first I was simply grateful for my granddaughter's life.' ‘As that euphoria faded, I began to ask why he acted as he had. I began wondering why, while in dire pain, Cáel refused water and comfort, instead asking for songs in our tongue? That made no sense; unless,' Shawnee's face deepened in thought as she let the implications of that thought hang in the air. ‘Thus I had Cáel's genetic identity tested, to see if; ‘ ‘To see if he was one of your bastard male offspring returned after all these centuries,' Ursula stood and seethed. Hayden slapped her palm on the table for order. ‘Oh Ursula,' Shawnee smirked, ‘the ancestors are wiser than you, or me. Had I received my heart-wish and had one of those boys return, they would be condemned by Arinniti's sins and the Council's decision.' ‘But;' Shawnee persisted. Several Amazon's looked my way, clearly bewildered. ‘We had to check the skulls of the ancestors for that,' Shawnee stated. ‘We took a tooth and it confirmed his lineage. He is the descendent of the young man. He never broke faith with the Host. He was unaware when ordered by the Arinniti what the Council had decided, thus he was guiltless.' ‘Who?' Hayden demanded. Shawnee looked down the table, but not far. (3)'Cáel Nyilas is of the blood of Ishara,' Shawnee stated. I waited to see which house leader freaked out. None did. Then I realized they were all staring at an empty chair and it just happened to be one of the chairs closest to Hayden. Not good. The screaming, shouting and yelling began. The house leaders were standing up, shaking fingers and launching threats at one another. Me? I was trying to recall who Ishara was. She eventually became Ishtar, Goddess of War. In the Old Kingdom Hittite she was also the Goddess of Oaths, Love and Medicine. The only three people at the table not going nuts where Saint Marie, Hayden and the woman at her side. That woman was looking at her tablet intently. Once more the group reached consensus and I was still boned. I was still a male, so my lineage meant nothing. I wasn't part of the Host. Hayden took another deep breath, acknowledging this second decision. ‘You are all incorrect,' the unknown tablet-reader spoke. Everyone looked at her and nobody was yelling. ‘Elsa, who is that?' I whispered. ‘Krasimira, Keeper of Records,' Elsa quietly informed me. ‘What; what do you mean?' Messina, Fabiola's Mom stammered. ‘Only nine males went unaccounted for at the end of the Second Betrayal. The rest are recorded meeting their deaths in battle, or death by our hand. Of those nine, only one was of House Ishara and he would have barely been of mating age,' Krasimira related. ‘So?' Ursula remarked. ‘He's still a male.' Krasimira looked at Ursula as if she was talking to a five year old. ‘He was a member of the Host. If Shawnee of Arinniti is to be believed, Vranus, Cáel's ancestor, lived and died in service to the Host. He was never removed from our records, so he died a member of the Host, so his descendants are also members of the Host.' ‘He married without permission of his house, thus he is illegitimate,' an old enemy from Egypt chimed in. ‘Perhaps,' Krasimira nodded. ‘That is a matter he must take up with the Head of House Ishara.' ‘There is no Head of House Ishara!' Ursula stated the obvious and pointed at the empty chair. ‘Again, you are incorrect,' Krasimira shook her head. She half turned in her chair. ‘There is a Head of House Ishara and he's standing right there.' Even Hayden had a problem with that. ‘But he's male,' Hayden declared. ‘That is Irrelevant,' Krasimira said. ‘To be the head of a house, one must either be elected by the peers of your house, succeed in accepted ritual combat, or, in extremis, it shall be the eldest surviving member of the Host of that house. Cáel Nyilas is clearly the oldest member of House Ishara currently in the Host,' she quoted Amazon law, ‘so he is House Ishara's head.' Silence reigned. ‘Gun,' I extended my hand to Elsa. She looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. ‘Don't make me repeat myself.' I growled. Elsa didn't look for guidance. She wasn't that type. She drew her 45 automatic and put in in my hand. ‘The safety is engaged,' she enlightened me. I left my spot and began rounding the table to 'my' seat. ‘One more step and I'll shoot you where you stand,' Ursula threatened. ‘No you won't,' Saint Marie stood. ‘I'll kill you first.' ‘Ursula of Marda, you have no justification to attack House Ishara,' Hayden explained. ‘I don't like this anymore than you do. We do not pick and choose which laws to follow. Accept the will of our ancestors.' There were between fifteen and twenty women close by aching to put bullets in me. I didn't stop because that wouldn't be me. I ended up by the chair and absorbed the essence of this tiny shard of reality. Was I the son of some lost 'First' House? Without a doubt, the placement of this chair was in the top ten on this side. The ones across from me were all clearly 'First' Houses as well. The chair was old; maybe two hundred years. It held a sadness to it; no one had ever sat in it. It had been built knowing no one would ever sit on it. I thought about Pamela. I thought about holding Oneida up and refusing to let her die. That effort was me, physically conditioned over years, but I had never discounted willpower. It was possible that man could indeed be found back somewhere in my ancestry. Few invaders wipe out all the indigenous inhabitants. Usually they intermarry with the invading culture overwhelming the previous one. I couldn't forget my present and future while examining my past. I put the gun down. Hostility washed over me in palatable waves. I pulled back the chair. The room was about to explode. I kept moving it back, farther and farther until it was clear I wouldn't be sitting in it. ‘I will stand for House Ishara,' I announced. ‘I will not vote though I will speak my thoughts on matters. I will hold this spot until I have a daughter of age.' ‘No man of House Ishara has ever voted in the Council of the Host and no man will now,' I kept going. ‘Outside of those concessions to my Mothers, I am House Ishara. I am right here. If you have a problem with me, I will be easy to find. I have never hidden from you bitches and I'm not going to start now.' ‘You insult us,' Messina stood up. Five other women joined her. ‘By all means,' Katrina stood, ‘we eagerly await your challenge.' Eight other women joined her. I hadn't suddenly become more popular. Between my refusal to vote, the bizarre revelation of Shawnee and the gravitas of the 'First' Houses, the more conservative women were retiring to regroup. Messina's backing down lasted only seconds. She immediately proposed that no male be allowed to be a member of the Host; disqualifying me by fiat. Krasimira wasn't going for that. Amazons could not legislate a member of the Host, or a House, out of existence. That's why they had killed the Ash Men in the first place. Technically, they had been Amazons. They couldn't make them 'not-Amazons' and there was no exile in this society. Eminently practical, they made them dead instead. That was coming back to bite them in the ass now, because they killed them; they'd never taken them off the rolls. Poor, young Vranus had loyally led his charges away on orders. Had he fled, they would have put him under a death sentence; which I would have to fulfill. No, my ancestor was unsurprisingly pig-headed. One senior warrior and three children; sure, let's walk off into the wilderness with hostile tribes all around. Why? They told him to and like a loyal little mutton-head he'd obeyed. If I believed in magic, or mysticism, I'd worry about how I ended up in that first board meeting speaking this screwed-up language. I'd re-examine how Leona had missed that crucial first shot because Aya had missed hers. Aya herself and the same spiritual twist that caused Oneida to hurl her life into my unsteady hands. I'd like to put that to accident and genetic abnormalities. Then there was Pamela. I'd like to think she was delusional, suffering from an acid flashback, or whatever. Shawnee slid a wooden box; a meter by 70 cm; to me. Whatever parliamentary etiquette Amazons followed was unknown to me. I opened the box. Inside was what looked like a lamb, or sheep, skin pressed in some kind of glass. The artifact looked horribly old and was faded to the stage where it was barely legible. I let the buzz die down around me as I squinted at the picture. There were five figures; from the left was a tall one with a shield and spear, three small figures, and another tall man; with two axes. That was; no I couldn't accept that, not right now. Along both sides and the top were prayers of some kind, though they were too faded to make out accurately. On the bottom were five names. The right-most was Vranus. Oneida hadn't been trapped by madness and pride. She'd been a slave to destiny. She had seen this skin, I was sure. She'd seen me with my two axes and when it turned out to be more than show, she'd had to save me and she couldn't tell anyone why because of the Arinniti sin. Perhaps she had some delusion we were distantly related. Now wasn't the time to ask. I closed the box and slid it back. In my absence, the verdict for House Arinniti was narrowed down. Some wanted Shawnee's head because she was the inheritor of those lies. Others wanted Oneida's head because it would be a more terrible lesson for her house. I didn't like those ideas. ‘Are you seriously arguing about the paint on the doghouse while your home is burning down?' I mocked them. ‘You don't; ,' a different, yet still hostile, Amazon choked out. ‘They didn't sell your sisters to the Roman coliseum,' I glared. ‘They valued bravery and loyalty over conformity. Did they defy the Council? Yes. I think we all agree with that. Put in context though, the rest of you screwed up.' Tons of 'how dare you' and descriptive insults to my family, gender, species and intelligence. ‘Answer me this; Ursula, can you turn around right now and slit your 'apprentice's' throat?' I posed. I could see the 'no' forming on her lips before the Great Wall of Implications fell on her head. ‘Everyone in this room that voted for the slaughter of the Ash Men broke your own laws,' I explained. ‘You had every right to kill your sons. They were legally and physically helpless. The Ash Men; they were members of the Host; and there is every indication you butchered them without trial, or attempt at redress. Correct me if I'm wrong, but those men did not break the law; you did.' ‘You are correct,' Krasimira said. ‘All members of the Host must be informed of their crimes and seek trial if they disagree. Any sentence of Death can be appealed to the High Priestess, who can commute the sentence, assign an ordeal of some kind, or have it carried out.' What doomed Leona was the obvious nature of her crime in front of the High Priestess. The only person who protested was Ursula, the Mistress of Leona's house. Looking back on things, Ursula had acted insanely sending Leona to kill me. Yes, she would have derailed the New Directive for a few years. She would also have alienated every neutral member of the Council. The vote for the New Directive was distasteful yet deemed necessary by enough houses for it to pass. The vote at the end of the Second Betrayal; that was the issue now. Miss Senior Egypt made one last end-run around the process. ‘What is to stop him from bringing more men into the Host?' she muddied the water. Me? I pulled out my shirt and looked down at my chest. ‘Is someone making fun of my A-cup sized breasts?' I appealed to Hayden. A tiny smile crossed her lips. ‘I am not sure Cáel,' Hayden responded. ‘Fatima, be precise with the nature of your worries.' ‘He should not be allowed to recruit into his house until his status is decided,' Fatima stated. ‘His status is not in question,' Hayden purred. That was the 'I'm about to lose patience with you' purr. ‘I would never recruit anyone into House Ishara who was not qualified. It is insulting to think otherwise. Is there a specific male you are worried about?' I inquired. ‘I don't know you, or your ways,' Fatima spat. ‘You need to think about what you just said, Fatima,' I snorted. ‘So, not knowing anything about me you are making assumptions about what I might do? As you said yourself, you don't know me.' ‘If you did, you would know that while I wish virtually every Amazon alive would drop dead, thus making the world a much better place, I would never embarrass Katrina, or betray her. Now, are you going to keep looking stupid, or are you going to accept that House Arinniti not only acted in accordance to Amazon law 2500 years ago, they continue acting so today,' I stated. ‘After all, they risked everyone's anger for the restoration of one of your eldest houses. When I turned out not to be one of Arinniti's long-lost sons, they could have kept quiet. They did not. Arinniti bravery means one day a daughter of Ishara will bring her voice to this council once more. They certainly didn't do this for themselves. Ask yourself if you would have the courage to bring such possible shame to your family prestige,' I challenged the Host. ‘You trained your monkey well,' Messina mocked Katrina. ‘Ah;' I mused as I picked up my pistol. ‘Safety.' I got a feel for the weapon. ‘Messina, what's the name of your 'apprentice'?' ‘You wouldn't dare,' Messina hissed. ‘You dare to insult me and my House, Whore-Bitch,' I smiled insanely. ‘Why do you think I'll let you get away with that? I'm not going to kill her; just gut-shoot her.' ‘Pull that trigger and you will die,' Messina spat. Her junior looked far less pleased with the turn of events. ‘Not relevant. My House Prestige is too great to suffer such an insult. You did call me, the choice of a hundred generations of House Ishara ancestors, a monkey,' I pointed out. ‘Cáel of Ishara, put the gun down; please,' Saint Marie sort of asked. I clicked the safety and put the gun back down on the table.   Messina was looking terribly pleased with herself, ignoring 'The Golden Mare' coming around her side of the table. The hair-yank Saint Marie inflicted made me recoil in shock and I was some distance away Messina. Slap-backhand-slap-backhand. Saint Marie released Messina's hair. Messina stumbled back, fearful and furious at the same time. ‘Are you going to exert some common courtesy, or shall we continue?' the Marshal of the Amazon Host glared at Messina. ‘I don't like him, or where he stands, but I am far more embarrassed by your behavior. At least the male exerts some restraint. The rest of you are acting like he is a weakling-idiot. He is not. Know your opponent dammit.' ‘Wait! Hayden, now that I'm;' I got all excited. ‘No, Cáel, you still may not refer to the Marshal of the Amazon Host as 'Pony-Lady',' Hayden scolded me. I snapped my finger over the lost opportunity. A pregnant pause was suddenly vacated by a snicker and then several more until half the table had to hold their hands over their mouths. ‘Did you really call (dead word spoken) Saint Marie, 'Pony-Lady'?' this unknown House Leader asked. She wasn't one of my fans. ‘Only after she kicked my ass, totally humiliating me,' I revealed. ‘I got one punch in. Next thing I knew I was wondering how regularly they changed the fluorescent lighting in the Firing Range while I was on my back, soaking up the cold comfort of the concrete floor.' It took them a second to figure out what I meant. Saint Marie was already marching back to her chair. ‘You are very poetic,' another commented. ‘That is how I learned your tongue; I was taught Old Kingdom Hittite erotic and love poetry. I know the same in nine other forgotten languages, as well as four current languages,' I informed them. ‘Hayden, you would not dare chastise any other Head of House the way you treated; him,' Ursula griped. ‘In what possible universe would Cáel Nyilas be considered normal?' Hayden countered. ‘He is not like any other Head of House. He forgoes voting because He values our traditions.' ‘He does not sit in his designated seat at our table because he takes into consideration our sensibilities. This from a man we all decided to imprison forever not five minutes ago. If any of you think he does this out of fear, you are sorely mistaken. He is a person of many failings without question yet he is courageous to a fault,' Hayden lectured the room. ‘Saint Marie, what was the first thing he said to you after you crushed him?' ‘He said 'What. Had enough already?'‘ she snorted. ‘Those were his exact words, lying on his back, looking up at me. I thought I had concussed him.' ‘This is not a humorous matter,' Egypt Senior was still cranky. ‘I don't know about that,' Saint Marie reposed. ‘I found it to be fun actually.' ‘Even the part where he had the gun pointed at me was interesting. I was certain he was about to shoot me,' Saint Marie continued. ‘Pity he missed you,' Messina glared. ‘He didn't miss me, Messina,' Saint Marie sneered. ‘I told him to give me the gun and he gave it to me. He's not disloyal, just pugnacious.' ‘What of Arinniti's crime?' Beyoncé prodded. She wasn't feeling self-righteous. Quite the opposite; the mood had shifted away from bloodlust to uncertainty. Amazons liked decisiveness. They also liked only having to do something once and being done with it. That was the riptide of the New Directive; some houses couldn't let go of the fact they'd lost. That constant pecking away at the plan were the half-measures Katrina was complaining to Hayden about. From my experience, the Ash Men was Katrina's goal all along. Had she been open and honest with this desire, there was no way any aspect of the New Directive would be implemented. If you believed in conspiracy theories, Katrina had groomed me for some time. If you believed in luck, Katrina was cosmically lucky our paths collided. If you believed in mysticism, I was screwed. Let's not forget that there were three millennia of bad ass bitches on the other side of the spiritual divide who thought nothing of guiding me into a life full of fear, heartache and pain. A lengthy debate ended in a classic Amazon compromise; they forgot about it. Literally, they erased the crime against the Ash Men and Arinniti's 'omission' of sparing three of their sons. What had happened to all my 'Ash' brethren? Whoops; they were misplaced. They weren't erased from the rolls; that would make my existence inexplicable, so we remained honorary Amazons. I was sure their angry ghosts were totally mollified. I was sure me and the first female Pope would get it on too. As the meeting was breaking up, one of the 'unfriendly' Amazons shot me a remark. ‘I supposed you are elated,' she grumbled. ‘Really? You think so? Here, let me sell all your underage daughters to Romany gypsies so that you never see them again and you'll have an inkling of how I feel,' I smiled serenely. ‘You should be happy you are allowed to stand in our presence,' she got truly pissy. ‘Lady, I won't be happy until I get to hunt hate-filled monsters like you for sport,' I kept smiling. ‘Until then, I'm afraid we are both going to have to live unsatisfying lives,' I added. ‘Perhaps we should handle this with a blood feud?' she salivated at the prospect. ‘Sure. I'll get the Neutron Bomb we have in the Armory. You chose whatever you like. I'll meet you downtown at noon,' I proposed. It is much better to make a nuclear weapon joke and not have every authority figure in the room glance at you nervously. Did we really have a nuclear warhead in the basement? Fuck if I knew. They'd have never told me if there was. I felt a hand on my shoulder and recalled the touch. "Cáel Nyilas, you are forbidden from engaging in blood feuds - in your case, feuds of any kind until one lunar cycle is completed," Hayden instructed. "Thank you. I appreciate that," my honesty, heartfelt reply slipped forth. "My judgment wasn't for you, Cáel. You've caused catastrophic trauma to our society as an outsider. I tremble to think what you can do now that you are one of us," Hayden gave me a truly serene response. "Give me a little time to prepare." "Oh! Great idea," I exclaimed. "Gotta go!" and I raced for the door, tossing Elsa her gun. "Should I shoot him?" Elsa suggested. "Only to slow him down a bit." I made it to the elevator carrying my jacket and shoes. With me were four sets of Amazons that wanted me dead and one set who were rather ambivalent about the whole matter. I caught one of the 'hater' juniors looking at me. I turned my head enough so we could make prolonged eye contact. I smiled. Reluctantly she smiled back. I leaned in slightly. "Can I borrow your phone? SD beat me up earlier and stole all my stuff," I innocently requested. I was pretty sure she was as surprised as every other man-hater in the box that she handed it over. Like shooting fish in a barrel. I began making a few quick texts to the three crucial people in my scheme. "What did you do that for?" her senior hissed. With my brand new Stinky Pooh-Bah status, she couldn't knock the device out of my hands. "I don't know," she pleaded to her superior. I finished up then handed it back. "Your 'apprentice' has rendered House Ishara an important service that shall be entered into our records of boons and debts," I nodded gravely. "What is your name?" "Gale," she batted her eyelashes. "What did I do?" "What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?" I magically conjured up her hand in mine with my fingertips coursing over her palm and wrist. "I'll explain it then." "You may not spend time with this...person," Senior insisted. "We should not overlook an opportunity to make an alliance with a First House," Gale countered. Bang! Looking like trout for lunch. Gale won, I won and we were meeting at my place so we could figure out where to eat - yummy. Somewhere in the episode, I'd introduce Odette into the mix. It was only fair. I was asking her to hide in Timothy's room until I got Gale warmed up after all. I was the first one of the 'team' to arrive. I was nervously pacing Katrina's office when Desiree and Paula showed up. Desiree took a casual seat on the sofa while Paula hovered around my desk. "Is this going to be really bad, or really good?" Desiree mused. "Why should you have to choose?" I laughed. "Besides, we are aiming for epic status today." "Why are we here?" Paula worried. I stopped. I had a 'Eureka!' moment. There probably was a Bible for what I was planning to do, but they hadn't given it to me. I ran to the bathroom and came back with a glass. "Desiree, I need two things. I need your sharp, pointy thing and for you to slap me until I cry," I looked at her expectantly. "My pleasure," Desiree rocked up from her seat. "Slapping then knife?" I nodded. I was still in the painful smacking process when Buffy and Violet entered. "Can anyone join?" Buffy asked Paula. "I...I don't think so," Paula shook her head. "He's got a plan. I don't know what for." I dodged Desiree's final swing. I had gathered enough tears - I hoped. "That was truly therapeutic, Cáel," Desiree stated. "Let me know if you need a repeat performance." She handed me her small knife. Helena and Daphne finally strolled in. I wove past them, retrieved a piece of paper which I tore in two and two pens. "Helena and Buffy, please write your names down on these pages," I requested. "What the hell?" Buffy growled. "What is this about?" "Trust me," I met her gaze. "Buffy, Cáel is an ass, but he's not crazy. He's up to something," Desiree intervened. Helena stepped up and wrote her name. Buffy followed suit. I took the pages to Katrina's desk. "Come forth and kneel before me," I commanded. This was the point in the ritual when I figured my death was most likely. Buffy shot an evil look at Desiree then very reluctantly complied. Helena followed. Hmmm...Amazons kneel with both knees on the ground. That puts their mouths almost...I had to keep with the program. I burned the two autographs and scattered the ashes. "There is no Buffy DuBois. There is no Helena Shultz," I began. I dipped a finger into the shallow pool of my tears. I ran one down under the left eye of each lady. "With this, I open your eyes to the joys and sorrows of our ancestors." That brought on a hush and the anger in Buffy's eyes evaporated. I cut my left forefinger then motioned them to do the same. First Buffy: I linked our bloody digits. "With this, our blood is mixed. You are Buffy of House Ishara from this moment forth. You are the first of this House. You are our spear and shield," I met her gaze. She started crying. "You are Helena of House Ishara from this moment forth," I continued on. "You are the second of this House. You keep the records of our Host, keep track of our deeds, sins and accounts." Helena began weeping too. Had I said 'just joking', the cleaning team would have been finding torn pieces of me weeks later. "House Ishara is dead," Daphne stated the obvious. "Suffice it to say, long ago, House Ishara brought a male into their ranks as a member of the House," I started. I motioned for my two House-mates...members to rise. "The Second Betrayal," Violet interrupted. "Yes. During the Second Betrayal, some males remained loyal. My descendent was sent on a mission for the Host. The mission took him past his lifespan. His offspring continued on until you end up with me - being here - today. Suffice it to say, he was never removed from the rosters of the Host, thus every offspring was a member too," I recalled recent edited events. "By Amazon law, House Leaders are selected by their peers, victors in a challenge for leadership, or..." I continued. "The eldest of the house," Daphne gasped. "Since Ishara is...since all the female members of the Host are dead, you are the eldest member of the Host." "You don't have to be a female?" Desiree muttered. "That's insane. We are Amazons." "There hasn't been a male in the host for over 2500 years," I explained. "It never came up. Back when they had them, there simply weren't enough men to worry about. Afterwards, there were NO men to worry about. Apparently your ancestors thought writing down 'eldest female' was redundant." "That had to have gone down like a mouse passing an elephant turd," Paula muttered. We all looked at her. "What? Since I met Cáel, I've been writing down little phrases to use in situations like now. This was the first one I could recall." "Actually, they wept tears of joy, lifted me up on their shoulders and sung paeans to my glory," I lied. "So, when do you think the first assassination attempt will be?" Desiree shook her head. This was a lot for her to take in. Not only was my tale fantastic, Buffy was her friend and Desiree knew that Buffy bled for a chance to join the Host and had done so for years. "Why do you think I called Buffy first?" I snickered. "I won't let you down," Buffy declared with grim determination. "Calm down, Buffy," I assured her. "I don't think me being casually snuffed out is on their agenda. They've already gone through a torturous compromise to end up with this screwed up situation." "So why did you pick me...and Helena?" Buffy studied me. "Buffy, you are the most amazon-Amazon I know," I told her. "You like Helena and she said nice stuff about Daphne which showed her character, so I chose her next." "Hey, this means I can finally slap Fabiola around," Buffy's eyes grew bright. "Which reminds me - can I get any volunteers for Old Kingdom Hittite lessons for these two," I begged my 'new hire' companions. "I'll take two nights a week," Daphne offered. "I'll take one night," Paula added. "I'll take a fourth," Violet completed the set. "Damn it," Desiree cursed. "This means Buffy must be taught the Prayer of the Ancestors." "You are right," Buffy gasped. "I accompany Cáel to Council meetings now." "One note - I don't vote," I informed them. "I made that decision. House Ishara has never had a male vote for it and I'm keeping that tradition. I can speak, but not vote. When my daughter comes of age, she will have full rights." Desiree, Buffy and Helena were confused. Daphne, Violet and Paula, on the other hand, were enraptured. This was the only life - only traditions - they had ever known and I had sacrificed something of importance to them out of respect to their sensibilities. "Cáel's decision makes it easier for you, Buffy and Helena," Daphne explained. "This allows the other Heads of House to get used to him being there - less of a culture shock," she continued. "In a few years he may end up getting a vote anyway as they learn to respect him and House Ishara. You are one of the First Houses - reborn, I imagine." Buffy's eyes grew wide and her mouth gaped open. "Yeah Buff," Desiree shook her head. "One of the first twenty war leaders of the Host. You have the blood of Mycenaean warriors on your hands." "Cáel, I..." Buffy began. "I gave you nothing, Buffy. If you think there is someone more deserving than you, please point them out," I touched her tear-drenched cheek. "I do want something from you," I said compassionately. Buffy was attentive. "I want you to undergo a sex change operation and become a real woman." Ow! Buffy punched me. "Buffy, you might not want to damage your House Head in public. It is bad for his prestige," Paula pointed out. "Good point," Buffy frowned. "Cáel - bathroom - now." "Uh-oh, no way, no how," I back-pedaled. "Today has been painful enough. I had a run in with some Security Detail and House Guard on the way to the podium." "What did they do to you?" Helena inquired. "For starters, they haven't given me back my valise," I complained. "Also, who do I report these additions to House Ishara to? Finally, Buffy promised me she'd wear a thong and those little, circular Band-Aids if I got her into the Full-blooded gym again." "Decorum, Buffy," Desiree stopped Buffy from punishing me. "Decorum." "Why don't you have to behave?" Buffy glared at me. "I'm the ghost of a man dead for over 2500 years," I winked. "I'm allowed to be eccentric." "I'll start calling around to find out who gets told what and where your stuff is Cáel," Helena grinned. She was full-blooded now; the goal of every Runner who joined. "What is next for you now?" Daphne questioned. "I imagine I have a job to do," I replied. "I mean, Katrina works and she's head of House Epona. I'm an intern, just like I was yesterday. That hasn't changed." "Oh goodie," Buffy smacked her hands together, "you can still work for me." "Oh - yay," I groaned sarcastically. "What's wrong now?" Katrina said as she waltzed into the room. I caught sight of a few SD chicks hanging around outside. "There are for your protection if you feel you need it." "Nah," I shook my head. "I have that taken care of. I brought Buffy and Helena into House Ishara." Katrina stopped and looked at me. There was definitely some tension between us. "You might want to consult with - others before you do something like that again," Katrina cautioned me. "I'll definitely consider your offer. For now, I chose the best for the future of Ishara," I said, "as is my duty and responsibility." We locked gazes once more. Things had changed between us. They had to have. "I seem to have missed my Firing Range practice today as well as the morning meeting," I reminded Katrina. She'd known what fate awaited me when I walked in the door and not warned me. I didn't blame her. That was what she was looking for - the anger. Before, I couldn't have acted on it. "Cáel, get dressed. I saw Helena running off on some sort of errand which I imagine is your fault, so you are working with Daphne for the rest of the day," Katrina resumed her pace to her desk. She examined the nearly empty glass. "My tears," I answered. "It is part of my ritual for induction into House Ishara." In case you missed it, I never said 'my house'. This was on purpose. As long as I made no open claim to such a lofty spot, they could ignore me hanging around a bit better. "You may want to talk with House Arinniti, or Šauška about such rites," Katrina advised. "He burned their old names to ash, scored their left cheeks with his tears to remind them of his ancestors and mixed his blood with theirs so they would be known to all as members of House Ishara from this day forth," Daphne related. "It was very touching - simple and to the point." "That's Cáel for you, simple and straight to the cultural jugular," Katrina shook her head. "He did nothing wrong," Buffy protested. I was getting dressed. "Buffy, I have wanted to initiate you into House Epona for years. Family politics have prevented that. Sixty years after the First Initiative, fewer than a fifty 'Runners' have been brought into the Host. Mutual condemnation has kept each house in check - restrained from recruiting new blood into the Host." "And now we have Cáel," Desiree groaned. "Who does care not one bit about social ramifications of bringing a hundred runners into one of the oldest houses of the Host," Daphne sighed. "But, we deserve this," Buffy proclaimed. "That, Buffy, is the point and the problem - you and others like you do deserve it," Katrina fondly regarded her 'now-Full-blooded' friend. "Most of the other houses would disagree though, but they won't be able to convince Cáel of this - thus begins the next quagmire of Cáel's creation." It was the prejudice laid bare. The 'Runners' knew they had very little chance of being accepted into a House. They had a long history of neglect to look back on. The few who had graduated had been virtually superhuman to be accepted. Then I came along. Suddenly, for some of the best and brightest of the 'Runners' there was a serious likelihood they could be brought into a highly prestigious House, because its leader was a nutjob. This morning, when the meeting adjourned, House Ishara had been a tiny blip on the Council's radars. Those women so disregarded the 'Runners' they hadn't even thought about my reaction to the dilemma of the miniscule size of my house, despite the answer being all around them (though safely contained upstairs in their minds). House Ishara with a lone member, a male at that, wasn't a threat - not really. The specter that Katrina foresaw was something different. She saw a House Ishara with a thousand members, and all hardened, dedicated and trained Amazons - formerly 'Runners'. Loyal to me?

ABOUT THREE EVIL GHOSTS Three of the most evil villains from history have returned to our world in spectral form. Together, they share a diabolical plan with far reaching consequences. Vlad "Dracula" The Impaler. Elizabeth "The Bloody Countess" Bathory "The Assassin" John Wilkes Booth. A town under siege. A group of young friends caught in a terrible trap. The fight for their lives, as well as our own, may be found in the pages of: Three Evil Ghosts!!!   ABOUT TYON OWNBEY Ryon Ownbey is a motorcycle enthusiast and he currently rides a silver and white Honda Shadow Aero named Zennie. He is an avid reader and enjoys viewing a well crafted film from time to time. He attended Watkins College of Art and Design in Nashville, Tennessee, and is an independent film director. Chocolate Mousse is his favorite dessert but if there is non available, a good New York Style Cheesecake will do the trick. _______________________________________________________________ One easy way to support this show is to rate and review Read Between the Lines wherever you listen to our podcast.  Those ratings really help us and help others find our show. Read Between the Lines is hosted by Molly Southgate and is produced/edited by Rob Southgate for Southgate Media Group.    Follow this show on Facebook @ReadBetweentheLinesPod Follow our parent network on Twitter at @SMGPods Make sure to follow SMG on Facebook too at @SouthgateMediaGrouLearn more, subscribe, or contact Southgate Media Group at www.southgatemediagroup.com.   Check out our webpage at southgatemediagroup.com

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..