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Upward Bound Okanogan County
Meet Our People
Gail started Upward Bound in Okanogan County 12 years ago. She graduated from Gonzaga University in Education and Theology, Seattle Central CC in Cabinetry, and Cornish in Fine Art and Design. Before UB, she taught high school, ran a remodeling business, was a grant-writer and delivered bagels!
I am from Omak and love living here!! I have explored the world and lived in Japan, New Mexico and Oregon in addition to Washington state. I received my Bachelor of Science degree from Portland State University and use my education daily in my work. I was fortunate to be able return home in 2003 and am excited to work with our program!
Oroville/Tonasket Academic Coordinators
Meghan graduated from Concordia University-Portland in 2006 with a Bachelors of Arts in Psychology with a minor in business administration. Since then she has lived in Oroville working and volunteering in this great community. Meghan is excited to help the students of Oroville/Tonasket High Schools achieve their goals of post secondary education.
Alex Eppel attended UC Santa Cruz and graduated in 1999 with a Bachelor of Arts in Women's Studies. He spent the last 12 years living in South Africa and working in youth and leadership development. He is trained in outdoor based experiential facilitation and enjoys creating adventures in learning for students. He is excited to bring that experience and a passion for unlimited growth to all the Upward Bound students on their journey towards college and beyond.
Katelyne is from Kansas and is a loyal Wildcat. She graduated in 2015 with a Bachelor of Science in Family Studies and Human Services with a minor in American Ethnic Studies from Kansas State University. She grew up in a military family and played college softball. She enjoys watching and helping students become well rounded individuals and move on to college.
Maranda graduated from Whitworth University in 2015 with a Bachelors of Arts in Psychology and a minor in communication. She is an alumni of Okanogan County Upward Bound. With roots in Omak, she easily relates to the students and understand what life is like in a small community. She enjoys helping the students realize their potential, and that hard work is the key to achieving one's goals.
Waylon is a long standing resident of Omak. Attended Wenatchee Valley College-Omak for a transfer degree. He complete his Bachelors in Education and Masters in Special Education from Western Governors University. Since 2010, he has held the position of 3rd-7th grade Special Education Teacher at Paschal Sherman Indian School. He enjoys being apart of Upward Bound as a tutor and mentor.


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I don't know what I'm doing. Does that surprise you? Probably not, but do you know what you're doing either? HA. Come on. None of us really do, despite the fact that we love to appear like we have it all figured out.
Today, I really felt like blogging. Today, I allowed myself to blog because I feel good about where I am emotionally. It's been a conscious thought these past two weeks (and technically one day, but I caved and posted once, so it evens out to two weeks exactly) to not blog. Gabby, don't give in. You can make it to two weeks.
I'm glad I stayed away and forced myself to take a break, but neither my perspective nor my opinion on my blog changed until I actually sat down and wrote about it. That's right, I've spent a majority of these two weeks not writing at all. Little things here and there when I couldn't resist, but overall, I've hardly touched either my notebook or my laptop. It was actually quite nice to not feel so busy and weighed down by guilt if I didn't write successfully every single day, but man I really can't figure anything out if I don't put pen to paper. Or, alternatively, fingers to keyboard. It's good to write again. For me.
I don't know if I'm quite ready to come back full force and blog everyday like I was pre-hiatus. I don't know if I will ever do that full-time again. I don't know a lot of things! I do know that I'm here now. I know that, for the second half of my self-proclaimed hiatus, I will post when I am inspired and leave it at that. I cut myself off completely for two weeks, and I'll spend two more posting sporadically as I see fit.
I constantly feel the need to put myself in a box. I am a poet, I'll say. Meanwhile, I will ignore my desires to also be an author and anything else I want to be simply because I don't want to come across like I don't know what I'm doing or that I have too many interests (spoiler alert, I don't and I do). Yet, most of the blogs I love the most don't post about one thing everyday. Most people I know don't stick to doing one thing everyday. How boring would that be?
I can write a novel, write poetry, write rambling posts like this, take photos, make videos, create art, run a Disney blog on the side, bake cupcakes and brownies, learn the ukulele, design clothing that I will never actually make, be an avid reader, be a library page, be a babysitter, go to church, go to school, hang out with friends, watch mind-numbing television, and a thousand other things. I can do so all on my own time table. I can do so without feeling guilty. That's what makes me who I am, as much of a cliche as that may sound (cue a Camp Rock era Demi Lovato singing This Is Me). Having more than one interest, fitting into more than one group, is a part of what differentiates a person from an individual.
I know what parts of me I want to hone in on, the parts that I want to be the best and focus my career on, but that doesn't mean I have to push the rest of me aside. That's not to say that I'm suddenly going to attempt being a lifestyle blogger again (dear Lord, that was a disaster), but my point is that I'm going to stop taking everything so damn seriously. Yes, my blog is very important to me and I want to take it seriously for that reason, but I also want to enjoy it. My writing reflects what I feel and if I'm not happy, y'all will know it.
These past two weeks have been filled with a lot of reading, painting, bedroom designing, shopping, cooking, family time, friend time, and learning how to go from being overly concerned with trying to do everything right to learning how to just let go.
Life is good, everything is fine, we are all trying to figure it out. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. A little pressure is good, but don't go crazy with it. Okay? Take a breather. Go outside for a minute, breathe in some fresh air, do whatever you need to do to relax and refocus. There is nothing wrong with doing something solely because you enjoy it. Despite what you may think, you need those activities just as much as every other important thing written in your planner.

subset: commoncrawl


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Where we are
We are 0.7 miles from the Post Office in Llanberis High Street, so just a 15 minute walk away from all shops, restaurants, amenities and the Sherpa bus stop. The nearest restaurants and bars are 300m and 600m away.
How to find us
Directions by road
From the A55 (click here for latest roadworks etc)
Turn off at junction 11, sign posted for Bangor and Llanberis.
Turn left at the roundabout at the top of the slip road onto the A5 and immediately get into the right hand lane to then turn right at the next roundabout onto the B4366, signposted for Llanberis.
Follow this road for approx 3 miles and turn left at the roundabout onto the B4547, signposted for Llanberis. Stay on this road, again for about 3 miles and turn left at the T-junction onto the A4086.The road is quite bendy so take care.
You will see Lake Padarn on your left. After a few bends you will pass a cluster of cottages on your right, and then the Lake View Hotel. Glyn Peris is just around the next bend to the right and the parking area is just past the house.
From the A5 (click here for latest roadworks etc - once on the site, click the camera icons on the map for webcams)
At Capel Curig turn left off the A5 onto the A4086 signposted for Caernarfon and Porthmadog. Stay on this road for 4.5 miles, turning right at the Pen Y Gwryg pub to start climbing up into the spectacular Llanberis Pass and on to the villages of Nant Peris and Pentre Castell. Once past Llanberis itself, passing Electric Mountain on your right and keeping the lake on your right, the road starts to climb and bend. Keep going past the Kent Centre on your right and we are a short distance further along on the left. The parking area is before the house on the left.
Travelling by trainthetrainline.com
Catch the train to Bangor station which is on the main line between Chester and Holyhead.
Travelling by busTravelineCymru
Catch the number 85 bus from Bangor station or the C5 and change at Caernarfon for the number 88. The journey takes about 30 minutes.
Travelling by taxi
There will be taxis at Bangor station or book in advance. Contact us for details of special prices for pick up and return to Bangor Station.
Car hirePractical Car & Van Rental - Bangor, based at Barron Travel, 74 High Street, a five minute easy walk from Bangor station.


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Overwatch Team
Overwatch Team Introduction
Formed in the summer of 2016, Fnatic quickly made their mark on the Overwatch scene, storming into the world's top ten teams before the year was out.
Bringing together a diverse group of athletes from different backgrounds in the professional gaming circuit, this tenacious, creative roster likes to play the mind game with its opponents, picking apart rosters with superior leadership from their captain 'Vonethil' and 'Custa' as well as the teams all round game knowledge. Of course when that doesn't work, the brute force approach often does, with any one of the squad capable of initiating the killer play to break the enemy's resistance.
Looking to build on their success in 2016, Fnatic Overwatch will be competing at OGN Apex in Korea for the first three months of the year, readying themselves for Blizzards's U.S.A. based Overwatch League.
Overwatch Team Achievements
|Runner Up
|DreamHack Winter 2016
|Semi Finalist
|Overwatch Open 2016
|Atlantic Showdown 2016
|MLG Vegas 2016


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Estella Bartlett Silver-Plated Wishbone Necklace
Make a wish...
Product Description
Give someone the greatest gift of all, luck. You can never have too much of it. And carrying a charm with you to warn off any unlucky happenings can only be a good thing. This beautiful, elegant silver-plated necklace has a delicate chain and wishbone charm.
Presented on a high-quality piece of white card reading 'Enjoy the little things', it can be hung up when not being worn, and used to motivate and inspire her. Hand write a short message to appear in the cloud on the front to make it extra personal.
Material: Silver-plated
Length of chain: 16" long (with a 2" extension chain)
Charm dimensions (approx.): 1cm
Customer Reviews
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Our Services
Maintenance & Reliability Technologies Inc. is a leading provider of laser alignment services for businesses in a wide variety of industries throughout Florida. Our highly trained technicians use modern, precise, and reliable laser alignment equipment to ensure all of your equipment's rotating parts are precisely aligned to operate at peak efficiency and minimize wear on critical components. We have extensive experience working for companies in a wide range of industries, so whether your issue is with a rotary kiln, feed water pump or induction fan, we will be able to quickly and expertly service your equipment.
Laser alignment is just one of the many different millwright services our company offers, with others including:
Waiting for a required laser alignment, or any millwright service, at best means that your machinery is wearing prematurely and at worst can cause your operations to grind to a halt, which is why M&R Tech is available to our clients 24-7 and provides same-day service whenever possible. We have technicians who are certified in a number of predictive maintenance techniques, such as vibration analysis and infrared thermography, which can detect problems well before they generate any visible signs or cause a critical failure. By consolidating both your condition monitoring and millwright services with M&R Tech, you'll be ensuring your equipment receives the best possible care from the most attentive and professional team in the industry.
For more information on our laser alignment service, or any of our other services, contact M&R Tech today. Our company is proud to serve customers in Jacksonville, Orlando, Ft. Myers, West Palm Beach, and other cities throughout Florida.
Field Services | Rotary Vessel Services | Predictive Maintenance | Specialized Welding


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I wrote a blog post earlier this year about how Brian Williams had been suspended from the NBC Nightly News for six months after fabricating stories about various reporting assignments. Well, we aren't at the six month mark yet, but a final decision on if he actually will return could be looming.
According to the Washington Post, Williams' replacement hasn't been doing much different from Williams in ratings. The ratings have gone down, but the drop started before Williams left. But why does NBC need to decide before the six months are up? Next month, negotiations with advertisers begin for the price of commercial airtime for networks, and NBC might have a hard time selling slots for its premiere news program if advertisers don't know who the face of it will be.
For my part, I've realized I don't care. I rarely watch the Nightly News. But when i do, I don't care who is anchoring as long as they are good. And, according to the ratings, neither do most people.


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Our dealership is excited to offer this 2017 Buick Enclave. Want more room? Want more style? This Buick Enclave is the vehicle for you. Pull up in the vehicle and the valet will want to parked on the front row. This Buick Enclave is the vehicle others dream to own. Don't miss your chance to make it your new ride. Once you see this Buick, you'll quickly see that this is the perfect vehicle for the outdoor junky! You'll even feel relaxed knowing that this All-Wheel drive vehicle will get you to where you are going no matter what may come your way. Also, with this Buick Enclave's dependable control you'll be able to drive into the sunset without a care in the world! You've found the one you've been looking for. Your dream car.
Price may exclude tax, title, tags, governmental fees, any emissions testing charges and any finance charges (if applicable). Unless otherwise stated separately in the vehicle details, price does not include documentation, processing, administrative, closing or similar fees. Current mileage may vary due to test drives and vehicle relocation.


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- Is anyone else feeling like Groundhog day was a joke this year (compared to the non-joke that it is every other year obviously). I was convinced spring was coming on Monday when we hit a high of 40° here in Mankato. Tuesday we received a prediction of early spring and 10 inches of snow. Excuse me while I hibernate for the next six weeks.
- We spent our snow day in the kitchen (and napping if I'm being honest) making these mini cookies. Ryan wasn't a fan of the crushed mocha M&M's we placed inside, but he did not complain about licking the spoon afterwards. What a cute dork.
- Above right is a photo of us nearly dying after completing four circuits of the Sweat with Kayla app pre-week one. For those of you who don't know, last year I kicked this guide's butt with two friends for sixteen weeks and loved it. Eight months later you can find me and the hubs nearly dying in Mankato's Y-Fit gym on our first week of workouts. Womp womp.
- In just a few minutes we'll be tackling the arms and abs of week one, but first coffee. Iced lattes are my pre-workout.
- We ventured over to Sioux Falls last weekend to visit some friends and I had the best cup of coffee of my life at Coffea.
- The company wasn't bad either.
- The past few month's we've been using Dave Ramsey's Total Money Makeover to snowball our debt. Monday we paid off another chunk of change. So satisfying. High fives all around.
- Ryan discovered John Mulaney on Netflix this weekend and we spent sixty-one minutes laughing till our stomachs hurt. Can I count that as our ab workout for the week?
- What are you making for the Super Bowl this weekend? Tell me, tell me, tell me.


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Finding BMO is a fanmade TV movie that will air June 4, 2014.
After BMO left Finn and Jake, it is up to them to find them. They search the Candy Kingdom, but he's not there. Finn and Jake finally find BMO hiding at the treehouse. He was there all along.
- The title is an obvious parody of Finding Nemo. BMO rhymes with Nemo.


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As a sucker for all things "As Seen On TV", I would like to put my 2 cents in about some of the products I've ordered and used as a result of being awake at 3am with a nursing child, sick child, worried heart or some combination of all three of the aforementioned. Continue reading
Monthly Archives: November 2011
Busy Brain
My brain is working overtime lately. If only I could get my hands to cooperate, I'd rule the world. Continue reading


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Sew a Boutique Wardrobe from 4 Easy Patterns
Mary Abreu
Mary documents her many crafting adventures on her blog, ConfessionsOfaCraftAddict.com. She teaches apparel sewing classes to support her fabric habit and lives with her family in Georgia.
Reading Abreu's book is like sitting down with a patient, and exceedingly competent, friend for an afternoon of sewing. Abreu, who created the popular blog Confessions of a Craft Addict, is nothing if not helpful, providing tiny inset tips such as If you cut along the Tiered Pants line, you can make a quick pair of shorts instead of pants or capris, and creating the feeling that anything is possible. She provides a quick review for the unsteady reader in Techniques A to Z, with good, clear photos helping make her points. And she's always encouraging and forgiving. In Handmade vs. homemade she reminds a frustrated seamstress, There is no shame in 'unsewing' your work. For the non-natural fashionista among us, she suggests pattern pairings, like a Barely Basic Top with the Twirly Girly Skirt. Yes, the names the author gives her outfits crank the cute to 11 but, after all, this is a book for girls who are proud to fly their feminine flag, sometimes with the help of their mothers. And while the names often cross the line from cute into cloying, the photos put everything in perspective. This parade of adorables will have readers saying, Who cares about the dress, I want the kid!Publishers Weekly (1/31/11) Mary Abreu has created four basic wardrobe pieces for little girls - skirt, pants, pull-over dress and peasant-style top/dress - and designed a series of variations to result in 23 different items. As the mother of a young daughter herself, she believes that sewing clothing fills a need to be creative, making something useful and fell the satisfaction from being able to say I made that. Her patterns provide you with the opportunity to dress your daughter or grand-daughter in one-of-a-kind outfits that fit perfectly. The book begins with a good overview of various techniques before moving into detailed and well illustrated step-by-step instructions for each garment. Full-size patterns are provided on sheets inserted inside the back cover... Another fun sewing book for children's garments is Little Girls Big Style by Mary Abreu. Mary Abreu hit it out of the ballpark with this book, as her patterns are all the rage in mainstream children's fashion. Lots of ruffles, lots of colors and mix-matching fabrics. Mary focuses on garments that have a "boutique" feel to them. Not the pricey, ritzy brands we usually think of, but the "one-of-a-kind" custom-made garments that every little girl will love. Mary gives a lot of thoughtful comments about how she goes about choosing fabrics, colors, styles and weights as well as always keeping in mind whom she is sewing for. Mary gives a thorough introduction to tools and techniques, which include many clear and easy-to-understand photos. The patterns are divided into four basic garments: Basic Bodice, Peasant Top/Dress, Pants, and Skirts. She offers nice variations and a ton of embellishments to truly make your garments one of a kind. Mary offers 23 patterns in sizes 2-6. Review Source: www.petitepurls.com
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This class is still used but most of it's original features deprecated. The F class still exists but F::build has been deprecated and all the utility functions are unused. Wikia is using php_test_helpers and runkit now in our test framework, which allows us to override the new operator for mocking purposes without having to modify the style of PHP code that we write. These docs are being updated to reflect the current state of things.
The only function left in WikiaSuperFactory is the static helper to contruct a new WikiaApp object F::app()
Old documentation follows:
WikiaSuperFactory class, aliased as F, provides easy to use solution for creating class instances and mocking such objects. It makes new() operator and static factory methods testable.
Mocking an object means creating class instance behaving as we want to, not as it was implemented. For instance PayflowApi mock would have all methods defined in class, but calling them would not result in connecting to PayPal API server. Instead predefined API response could be returned.
Building object
new operator
Common pitfal in writing testable code is using new() operator. Such code is not possible to unit test because there is no way of providing mocked object instead of creating new one. Consider the following example:
class Foo { function bar() { $cache = new Cache(); return $cache->clean(); } }
Any test calling bar() method will create Cache class instance and call it's real clean() method. In most cases it's not desired to run real code of colaborating classes while unit testing, as it breaks isolation rule. In this particular case it could cause race condition problems (some other test might require some data to be cached and we clean it), create dependency on infrastructure (there's need to be real cache and it needs to work correctly) and so on. One of possible solutions is using factory instead of new() operator:
class Foo { function bar() { $cache = F::build('Cache'); return $cache->clean(); } }
The key here is how build method works. It creates new object as usuall, unless an instance has been given.
Foo class test could look like:
class FooTest extends PHPUnit_Framework_TestCase { public function testEnsureThatBarMethodProxiesToCacheClean() { $cache = $this->getMock('Cache'); $cache->expects($this->once()) ->method('clean') ->will($this->returnValue(true)); F::setInstance('Cache', $cache); $foo = new Foo(); $this->assertTrue($foo->bar()); } }
In the test first we create Cache class mock and define it's behaviour. We expect it's method 'clean' to be called once and when called return a value, TRUE. Then we instruct factory to return our mock whenever factory is asked for Cache object to be build. To do so we use setInstance method. At the end of the test we create actuall Foo object, call it's bar method and check if it returned same value as Cache::clear.
Created mock will not use any caching services or resources. It will simply return enforced value when clean method is called. This way our test will not be dependent on possible caching infrastructure problems.
Passing constructor arguments
Second argument of build method is array of constructor arguments.
class Foo { function bar() { $cache = F::build('Cache', array('host' => 'localhost'); $cache->clean(); } }
The above code is equivalent to:
class Cache { __construct($host) {} } class Foo { function bar() { $cache = new Cache('localhost'); $cache->clean(); } }
Calling static factory methods
Factory methods can be called same way as constructor. Third argument of build() method is method name to call, by default __construct. Assuming newFromString is static factory method of Cache class the following is WikiaFactory way of calling it:
class Foo { function bar() { $cache = F::build('Cache', array('string' => 'host=localhost', 'newFromString'); $cache->clean(); } }
The above example is equivalent to:
class Foo { function bar() { $cache = Cache::newFromString('host=localhost'); $cache->clean(); } }
Static factory methods can be used by factory only when factory itself was configured to used them prior to calling.
Mocking production process
To force factory to return mock object instead of real object setInstance method can be used:
class FooTest extends PHPUnit_Framework_TestCase { public function testBar() { $mock = $this->getMock('Cache'); F::setInstance('Cache', $mock); } }
Since now all attempts to create Cache object using WikiaSuperFactory will result in returning $mock object instead of creating new one (useful for unit testing).


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i've recently re-discovered my love for fall out boy, ok? don't say you don't secretly listen to them too. & sending postcards from a plane crash is probably my absolute favorite song of theirs.
wow, where to begin? this post is probably better organized in bullet points, but hey, let's switch it up a bit. corey & i celebrated valentine's day the weekend before the date, and i cooked my very first steak! i know its hard to screw up a tenderloin, but i was nervous. i made a red wine reduction with mushrooms and mashed potatoes as a side, of course. i'm pretty damn proud of myself!
since around the holidays of 2012, i've really stepped up things in the health department. college got the best of me, guys, it really did. and while i enjoyed every second of late night pizza and hoping my metabolism would return to its preteen meredith level of endurance, i knew i had to make a change for the better. with graduation looming, i figured it was better to get fit now rather than later. i'm happy to say it's been a wonderful, empowering success. i've lost weight, i have more energy, i feel happier and at peace. truly, one of the best decisions i've ever made. and these cheesecake cupcakes i've made a few times now definitely helped (no, really, they're not that terrible for you!).
i've missed baking and cooking not-so-great for you things... let's be honest, usually because they're prettier. protein powder doesn't have the same finesse as a red velvet cupcake in a floral wrapper, you know? i'm still cooking, just different things now. maybe i'll start posting recipes again.
along with my lifestyle changes, i've tried a few new things, one being juicing. i'm still not sure if its for me. i tried a cucumber, celery, lime and grapefruit concoction and was definitely not sold on the idea. i think i'm ok with getting in fruits & vegetables in solid form. i am not a big vegetable fan, so i figured this would be a good way to eat more, but i just didn't like it that much. is the taste supposed to grow on you?
i've been relatively busy this semester, but corey and i managed to get away to fairhope to spend time with my parents this past weekend. we went out saturday night to meet up with some friends and caught up on movies on our 'to watch' list. we're planning to head back down in march for the arts & crafts festival - corey and i also signed up to run in the spring fever chase! honestly, i'm not a big runner... but i just figured why not?
i'm ready to graduate. i'm ready to move on with life. i love you college, and it's been an incredible 4 years, but i'm ready to let go (watch me totally regret saying this a year from now). i've got spring break coming up... and i am SO ready.


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Angus, Thongs And Full-frontal Snogging By Louise Rennison
Quezon City, Philippines
Getting This
Getting This
The book that inspired the movie "Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging" (2008) Only issue is the dirty back cover. Pages are in very good shape.
Quezon City, Philippines
Shipping fees depend on location of buyer


text: Some popular female fish names include Angel, Bubbles and Dory. Funny female fish names include Sushi, Wanda, Salt and Kraken. Hippo and Hydra are ironic names for a female fish. Flotsam and Jetsam are good names for both male and female fish. Common types of fish such as the Blobfish, Ladyfish, Medusafish and Barb can also be used as fish names.


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KLM - Nostalgia Side B
- by Droidsong Recordings
- 5
- 28m
- 5 years ago
Sunshine Productions, DJ Solo, Nookie, DJ Yolk, Foul Play and more.
Loads of old school jungle tracks from the early 90s.
Side A is here: KLM - Nostalgia Side A
Press play to try again.
Please update your browser or install another such as Google Chrome.
Mixcloud requires HTML5 audio with MP3 and MP4 support.


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A warm welcome to the companies and institutions wishing to sponsor the IJAA2007goa. Sponsor's support will be mainly utilized to support student participation in the conference. To have common rules, the following grades have been established. For all sponsors, the general advantages are the following:
|Sponsorship Category
|Standard Sponsor:
|Rs. 30,000
|Silver Sponsor:
|Rs. 50,000
|Gold Sponsor:
|Rs. 80,000
|Platinum Sponsor:
|Rs. 1,00,000
Kindly download the form, fill it and send by e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.com
Download Sponsorship Form (.PDF) Download Sponsorship Form (.DOC)


text: I got a surprise last night when i turned up at footy training. There was a dude out on the park that i didn't recognise yelling at the boys. It's not uncommon for old clubmen to come out of the woodwork as you get closer to a premiership. "Who is this big-shot ass-hole ring-in" i […]Continue reading →


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Flair Athletics will be CLOSED Monday February 20th for the Family Day Weekend. Wishing you all a wonderful Family Day!
Regular Hours
Monday & Tuesday: 12-5pm
Wednesday to Friday: 12-6pm
Saturday 10am - 2pm
Sunday: Closed
Brrr. It's cold outside. Now is the perfect time to get yourself the Warm Up Boots you have been wanting. 15% off for a limited time.
Yes we do pointe shoe fittings! Please call to schedule your fitting with Crystal


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Listen to free music played by naomy
Blip.fm is internet radio made social. It's easy to search for, play, and discover free music recommended by real people. Join today to create your own free station and start listening to @naomy.
naomy me gusta
Loco extraño – Sandoval (video oficial) HD| play
Dec 19, 2010 at 12:11 am via YouTube | AMAZON | ITUNES
Steliux gave props on Dec 18 at 4:13 pm


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Prologue: BeckoningEdit
"So... I'm sure of our viewers want to know now... Just who IS Ranma Saotome?" The news anchor said. "We've seen his face in the news several times over the past weeks, both in a positive light and a negative. A man who, with the help of his friends, took down the Paved Future, a Japanese Terrorist organization not once, but twice! Our news station travelled to Nerima in hopes to get an interview with this amazing teen and his friends. Michiko Suzuhara reports."
The scene cut over to a young woman holding a microphone standing at the front entrance of Furinkan High School. "Thank you, Reika. I'm standing in front of Furinkan High School right now, the very school that Ranma Saotome, Akane Tendo and Ukyou Kuonji attend. Three of the five hero teenagers that took down the Paved Future, with assistance of the Tokyo Police Force. Today is the day that Ranma Saotome himself is scheduled to return to class." She looked around for a moment. "Excuse me," she called to a student.
A moment later, Hikaru Gosunkugi stepped onto the screen. "Are you a classmate of Ranma's?" she asked.
Hikaru nodded quietly, warily eyeing the camera.
"How do you feel about your classmates being so famous?" Michiko asked.
"It's... uhh... kinda... umm... neat... I guess..."
"Okay, thank you," Michiko said, then shooed him away. She paused for a moment, staring off past the camera, and then looked back.
"I've just been informed by our correspondent that Ranma Saotome should be reaching the school any moment now. And... yes... Yes, I think I see him coming! Ichiro, get this!"
The camera swung around to the street about a block away, where Ranma was running atop a fence, with Akane keeping up easily.
"I believe he's running along the top of a chain link fence," Michiko continued, now off-screen. As Ranma got closer, Michiko was seen running towards him.
"Ranma! Akane! Michiko Suzuhara with Tokyo Morning Action News! Could you spare a moment to answer a few questions?" she called over.
Ranma immediately paused, and jumped down off of the fence. Akane followed in suit, walking up to Michiko.
"Sure," Ranma said.
"Ranma, we're going to be late," Akane warned.
"We've got some time," he said to Akane. He looked back toward Michiko. "Shoot," he replied.
"First of all, how does it feel to take down such a dangerous organization as the Paved Future?"
"It's like anything else, you know?" He replied. "You just see something wrong, and you do something about it. The thing is, there's no way I coulda done it alone, you know?"
"Of course, the others that helped--"
"Akane, Ukyou, Ryouga, Mousse, Even Shampoo."
"How do you feel about those who were killed in the first encounter? I believe their names were--"
Ranma shook his head. "Cologne and Happosai. Well, it was tragic. Shouldn't have happened that way, but the one who's responsible died that same day."
"Now, I think the question our viewers want answered most is... just who is the mysterious girl that assisted you in the last encounter?"
Ranma paused. "What?"
"Rumors have been abound from several witnesses who claim to have seen a red-headed girl dressed much the same way as you that helped destroy the Paved Future once and for all."
"They're completely false," a third voice chimed in. The camera turned around to see Nabiki shoving Michiko away from Ranma. "Now if you'll excuse us, my client needs to get to class."
"Client?" Michiko asked.
"That's right," Nabiki replied. "My name is Nabiki Tendo, and I'm Ranma's Agent. You want to talk to him, you go through me!"
Ranma and Akane quickly sped by them and into the school grounds. A moment later, Nabiki followed them.
Michiko regained her composure and looked at the camera once again.
"Well, there you have it," she said. "Words from the mouth of Ranma Saotome himself. This is Michiko Suzuhara reporting. Back to you, Reika."
The TV clicked off, leaving a light trail in the wake of the picture tube. The figure sitting in front of it stood up and sighed.
"So, Saotome," she said. "Looks like you've made a name for yourself."
She took a cigarette out of a half-empty pack sitting on her desk and lit it, momentarily lighting the dark room, as well as the unconscious figure slumped into the corner.
"Until we meet again," she said, blowing smoke at the blank TV screen.
"I'll consider that a freebie," Nabiki said.
"Freebie? For what?" Ranma asked.
"As your agent, I am to collect %45 of all your net income from television appearances."
Akane blinked. "Forty-five? I thought agents only took fif-- mpfhph-"
Ranma looked over at Nabiki, who was currently covering Akane's mouth. "I don't think I need an agent, Nabiki," he replied. He then began running back toward the school.
"Wait!" Nabiki called. "Okay, forty percent!"
Ranma kept running.
"Thirty-five! No, Thirty!"
"Bye, Nabiki," Ranma shot back.
"Fine! Fifteen!"
Ranma was already gone.
"Damn," Nabiki muttered to herself.
Ranma sat in class, absently staring out the window. It wasn't as if he wanted to go back to school, actually, he could care less. What good was being a celebrity if you had to go to school? He wanted none of it. Especially not with the stares and googly eyes he was getting from not only the student body, but the teachers as well.
He silently ruffled through his pockets and pulled out several pieces of paper, papers he had found in his cubby hole, which was stuffed. He flipped through them with distaste. Ranma didn't even feign interest in them.
Dear Ranma, one has started.
Will you marry me?
That was all it said. Didn't even have a signature. He ruffled through the papers some more. Several more marriage proposals, photographs, some of them naughty, and a drawing of him in a fighting stance, attached to a letter asking him for the rights to do a manga based on his life.
He crumpled them up and tossed them towards the trash bin, netting himself three points... if he was playing basketball, that is.
With a sigh, he looked towards the front of the class, and finally noticed the stares.
Actually, they were less stares and more looks of adoration. Ranma grumbled under his breath a rolled his eyes.
"All right, class!" Hinako exclaimed. "Now I'm aware it's very exciting for us to have Ranma and Akane back in class, but we have more pressing matters to attend to. As you're aware, we have a test today."
Ranma straightened his posture. Finally someone would help get things back to normal. He sighed with relief as Hinako began to pass out tests face-down on student's desks. Ranma readied his pencil as the test got to his desk.
"On my mark, turn them over and began," Hinako said. After a few moments, she gave them a nod.
Ranma turned over his test and began to read.
Ranma frowned.
'Dear Ranma,' it had said.
'Sorry I didn't leave my signature, but will you marry me?'
'Love Miss Hinako.'
Ranma's shoulders fell and he groaned.
"Ahh, screw this!" he exclaimed, then promptly jumped away from his desk and ran towards the door, garnering noises of surprise from the students, and a look of confusion from Akane.
He stopped at the door and turned around. "Look," he said. "This was a bad idea. I'm going home until you people can smarten up." He looked at Akane. "I'll see you at home," he said.
And with that, he was gone.
Ranma left the school grounds the best way he knew how. By jumping the brick wall that surrounded the school and began his trek home. It's not that he hated the fame, in fact, it was quite the opposite. He loved the feeling of knowing that he had helped out the country not once, but twice, but he was sick of all the bullshit from the people.
Men and women he had never met before were coming up to him on the street, basically accosting him. He had never really had the patience to deal with it before, how was he expected to deal with it now? He kicked a lone rock on the street as he dawdled down. He was so wrapped up in his own problems that he barely noticed the diaper delivery van across the street from the school, which was now starting to follow him.
"Ranger base, this is Paladin-One. Subject is on the move. Request advice," the man inside the van said over the radio.
"Paladin-One, keep with the subject, but don't let him see you. Pegasus will approach once he gets home."
"Roger, Ranger base," he replied, then shut off the radio.
"Man, this is bullshit," Agent McCarthy said. "Following some kid around? I didn't sign up for this to keep tabs on some kid. I've got some of the most advanced military and tactics training in the world, and what do use it for? Surveillance on some punk kid."
"Nobody ever told you most of this job will be stake-outs?" Agent Nelson replied.
"Stake-outs I can handle. But stake-outs on some terrorist hide-out, or maybe even a deep cover operation in the middle east," he complained. "What's the deal with this kid, anyway?"
Nelson shrugged. "Something to do with that rash of terrorist attacks here lately. Apparently this kid put a stop to them and took out the ringleaders of the operations."
"With what? A Slingshot?"
"He's supposed to be a martial arts master," Nelson said as he looked back out the window. "Uhh... McCarthy?"
"What now?"
"He's gone," he said.
McCarthy stepped up to the window. "What do you mean he's gone?"
"I mean, he's GONE."
"Dammit. Ranger is gonna have our hides. Where could he have gone?"
As if to answer the question, or to just make a point, Ranma poked his head into the range of the windshield... He was on the roof. He spoke three simple words with a grimace.
"Stop... Following... Me!"
And with that, he leapt off the roof of the van and onto a brick wall that ran along down the road.
Nelson and McCarthy looked at each other in shock, and promptly picked up the radio headset.
"Ranger base?" he asked.
"Identify yourself," was the reply.
"Paladin-Alpha," he replied. "We have... err... lost the subject."
"He... made us and ran off."
Just then, another distinctly female voice broke in. "This is Porter," she said. "We're still tracking him on satellite. God, look at him move. He's making a beeline for the Tendo home. I can keep it from here. Paladin, move on with Archer. They're having trouble keeping track of Subject two."
"Yes ma'am," McCarthy replied, and turned off the headset.
Ranma slammed the front door and grumbled to himself, attracting the attention of Kasumi, who poked her head out of the kitchen and smiled at Ranma.
"Hello Ranma," she said. "Back from school already?"
With a sigh, Ranma nodded. "I couldn't handle it."
"Couldn't handle what, boy?" Genma said, limping down the stairs. "School?"
"No, everyone's just... acting different."
"Ahh, to be young and famous, Ranma. You know, your old man was once--"
"I'm not in the mood for one of your pick of the litter stories, dad. I just want to relax."
"Ranma, there's some food ready in the kitchen if you need it," Kasumi said, carrying laundry upstairs.
"Thanks, Kasumi," he said. "At least you don't treat me any different."
"Boy, I--"
"Shut it, Old Man," Ranma said, then fled for the kitchen.
He got himself a bowl of rice and drenched it in soya, then made his way out to the back yard.
It wasn't until he got there that he realized he wasn't exactly alone. A foreign girl was standing there, admiring the scenery.
"Uhh, 'scuse me?" Ranma said. "You can't be here."
The girl looked over at Ranma and smiled. It was then that Ranma noticed the way she was dressed-- almost like a businesswoman, but Ranma recognized the outfit almost immediately. It reeked of American Special Law Enforcement.
"Oh, great," he said.
"Ranma Saotome," she said as she neared him. "My name is Alice Porter, I'm the CIA liaison officer for the NDID." She bowed.
"The who to the what now?" he asked, sitting down to enjoy his rice.
"I'm with the American Central Intelligence Agency," she clarified. "I'm here in conjunction with the Japanese National Defense Intelligence Directorate. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to come with me."
Ranma blanched and wiped a piece of rice from his face. "What for?"
"We can't really talk here," she said. "We need your help."
Ranma looked at the woman with disdain. "What on earth for?" he asked with clenched teeth.
Alice sighed and leaned over to him. "Jusenkyo," she said.
"Jusenkyo?" Ranma suddenly got serious. "What the bloody hell is wrong?"
"As I said, we can't talk here. If you and your father could come with me, everything will be explained in due time."
Ranma looked back into the house and sighed. "Okay, gimme a few minutes."
Alice Porter nodded. "I'll be in the car," she said.
Ranma walked out to the front entrance of the Tendo Dojo, his father in tow and quickly got into the plain black car which was parked out front. It was a spacious car, it seemed to be small from the outside, but there was more than enough room inside.
Once Genma got in and shut the door, he crossed his arms and wore a very stoic look.
"So what's the deal here?" Ranma asked.
"I'll explain what's going on, but you'll have to wait until we get to the briefing room before I can explain why we need your help."
"Fair enough," Genma said. "I'm more curious as to why an American Secret Agent would be interested in Jusenkyo, myself."
"We've known about Jusenkyo for years," she said. "We discovered it initially in nineteen-thirty-two, through a small agency that's since been disbanded. You see, in the twenties, President Warren Harding instituted an agency who's sole purpose was to seek out the unknown. They covered everything from Aliens to Vampires, seeking out information on magic, folklore and pretty much everything supernatural or extraterrestrial from all over the world. One of the things they discovered were the Springs at Jusenkyo."
"In the thirties? So... you might have a cure?" Ranma asked.
"No," she said. "Testing was minimal. They had found many more... pressing matters to deal with at the time, which I can't really get into at this moment. Classified, I'm afraid. But from their preliminary testing, they were unable to find a cure that would be sure to work. Most of their attempts ended up as strange mutations. Half-human, half-animal hybrids and things like that. It was deemed too dangerous to continue experimentation and the project was dropped. It wasn't picked up again until recently."
"Why now?"
"There is another Agency now, not officially inclusive of the CIA, called the International Mystical Research Agency. InterMyRA. While operating mainly under CIA direction, it is an international organization, comprised of different researchers and agents from countries all over the world. InterMyRA works on a different level entirely than the CIA or any world government period. The Agency allows free reign of knowledge to and from any country, regardless of wars or national attitude. The Chinese managed to find an old tomb in the mountains of Qinghai full of mystical artifacts. The artifacts were sent over to a research facility in Alberta, Canada."
"So, what?" Ranma asked.
"Among the artifacts were several jewels of high grade mystical power, and a small collection of stone tablets, each with a spell inscribed," she said. "We were never fully able to translate all of the tablets, but we did manage to save an imprint of one of the spells."
"Why are you talking in past tense?" Ranma asked.
"The facility was nearly destroyed two months ago, several buildings were burned to the ground, but the stone tablets and the jewels were never recovered. Last month, Jusenkyo was taken by a warlord."
"Jusenkyo was taken? You mean...?"
"A small army led by a woman with some extreme martial arts ability took the place over, along with the surrounding villages and the Phoenix Tribe."
"Has any group taken responsibility?" Genma asked. "Do you think this could be the Paved Future again?"
Alice shook her head. "No. We don't believe the Paved Future has anything to do with this, but we're of the understanding from some Tribes people in the area that the attacking army come from another tribe in the vicinity. The Musk Dynasty."
Ranma snapped his fingers. "Herb," he said.
Alice nodded. "That's what they said, too. But it can't be confirmed yet. Few have escaped from the area, and of the few, only an exceptional few lived."
"Wait... Nyuchezu?"
Alice nodded. "That was one of the villages taken."
"Mousse and Shampoo," Ranma said. "I hope they made it out."
Alice laughed. "They did," she said. "They're in the briefing room right now."
Ranma and Genma walked into the 'briefing room' and scanned the area.
There were more people there than he had expected. At least thirty different people. Japanese, Chinese, he spotted a few Koreans and Vietnamese, as well as several Americans. It was a collection of cultures from all over the world, actually.
"Saotome? Is that you?" Mousse asked.
Ranma nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Glad to see you made it out."
"We both did," Shampoo said, breaking in. "And that not all." She pointed across the room to a man leaning with his arms crossed against the wall.
Ranma's eyes bugged. "Tarou?" he asked.
Pantyhose Tarou shot a look in Ranma's direction and rolled his eyes. He went back to his former position and continued to ignore everything.
"Well, well. Saotome. How goes it?" A familiar voice asked from behind him.
Ranma turned to see... Akane...
"Akane?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"
"Umm, Ranma?" Mousse said. "That's not Akane."
Ranma blanked out for a moment, then reality started to flood back to him. "Kiima," he said, his teeth clenched.
"Relax, Saotome," Kiima-Akane said. "We're on the same side in this. If it wasn't for me, Masara and Kuruma, your friends wouldn't have made it out of Nyuchezu."
Just then, two more people walked into the room. The first was, to Ranma's surprise, Ryouga Hibiki, followed by Alice Porter herself.
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Alice called from the front of the room in Japanese. Two more people repeated the statement in English and some other language Ranma wasn't familiar with. Sounded European, though.
Attention was grabbed from the whole room. Everyone fell into silence.
"You've all been apprised of the situation. What most of you don't know is that we've managed to translate the imprint of the stone tablet that was stolen from our Canadian Facility, and I'm afraid it places each and every one of you at danger."
Ranma looked around. All of them? There must be thirty people! Or maybe more! Or maybe less! Ranma was never good at counting.
"The spell allows its caster to literally absorb the true form of someone afflicted by the curse of Jusenkyo, leaving them as nothing more than their cursed form-- body, soul AND mind. Yes, we're talking about a major problem for you should this... Herb come into contact with you. I'm aware many of you have special abilities, not just in your true form, but your cursed form too. Like Ranma Saotome," she motioned towards Ranma. "Who has been in international news lately for helping take down a terrorist organization. What you won't find in the news is that he was also responsible for killing a god in China recently. Also Doctor James Edwards, the leading parabiologist in charge of the Department of Transmutations for InterMyRA."
"Wait..." Ranma whispered to Mousse. "Are all these people cursed?"
Mousse nodded. "Most of them," he said. "You're lucky you weren't here when the good Doctor over there spilled a pitcher of water. The sight wasn't pretty."
"What does he turn into?"
"Trust me, you don't want to know."
"If you two are quite finished, I need to continue," Alice said, looking straight at Ranma.
Ranma sheepishly nodded.
"Now, Intelligence has told us that Herb is planning her march on Xining within the next twenty-four hours. However, we've received another bit of intelligence from a more... reliable source that Herb is coming here," she said. "To Japan. The purpose? Well, it's sitting in this room." She gestured towards Ranma's table, which had an old piece of pottery with writing on it. Ranma couldn't recognize the language.
Wait. Ranma blinked. Herb wasn't the conquering type, from what he remembered. But if Mousse and Shampoo said it was Herb, then...
"So what we need to do is come up with a line of defense. The Chinese Government has allowed us free reign over Qinghai for the purpose of fighting Herb back. As you can understand, this isn't a cause we want to bring soldiers over for. No amount of training in any government military can prepare a soldier for the unpredictability of mystics. We do have a specially trained unit ready for deployment, but there's a request I have beforehand."
She sighed and looked around the room. "Not all of you are going to be ready for a battle like this. Not all of you will be coming along. But those who can fight... those who have skills they can utilize in the fighting of the Musk army are welcome to sign up. I'm not forcing you, this is completely voluntary," she said.
Ranma looked around the room. Several people stood up, almost immediately, others were more hesitant, but eventually stood up.
Kiima, Shampoo and Mousse also stood up.
Ranma looked over to his father. He was still weak from his ordeal with the first run of the Paved Future, but he was struggling to stand.
Ranma didn't waste any time. He stood up and cast a glare at his father.
"Sit down, old man," Ranma said. "You're not up for this."
Genma still stood, regardless.
Alice smiled, and took a quick count around the room. Twelve. Twelve people willing to volunteer. Not as many as she hoped, but it was still enough.
She started marking off her list. That Phoenix girl, Kiima was standing, which Alice had expected. After all, her Tribe would be put to slavery at the hands of the Musk. She had brought two uncursed Phoenix with her too, so they could be expected to join their General. Then there was Shampoo and Mousse, the Joketsuzoku pair. Ranma and Genma Saotome. Ryouga Hibiki. Doctor Edwards. A Russian girl named Natalya Heliskov, a Judo Champion. An American Aikido champion named Peter Ganner. An American Mystic named Marcia Stiles, who would be very useful. A French psychic named Gerard Dugaulle, and a Canadian Girl named Alexis Trepe, who happened to be a famous singer and champion kick boxer.
"Thank you," she said. "Everyone who's volunteered, report to room 1010 in thirty minutes. Everyone else is free to go, or are free to stay in this facility until things have died down."
After Alice left, some more commotion started up.
"Ever the hero, aren't you, Saotome?" a voice asked from nearby.
Ranma turned to face Tarou. "Hey, at least there's a point to my life."
Tarou sighed. "Well, that's all fine and dandy. But the only point I need to make right now is my foot up your ass."
Ranma blinked. "You want to fight? Now?"
"Damn straight, Saotome. The old freak is dead because of you. By my tribal law, it's only you now that can change my name."
Ranma laughed. "You're serious," he said.
Tarou clenched his fist. "I don't feel like attracting the attention of the armed guards around here, so how about we move this outside?"
Ranma cracked his knuckles. "There's nothing else I'd rather do, Pantyhose," he said, gauging Tarou's reaction. "But there's something else I have to do. So how about this... You come along on this little trip, and I'll name you."
"What?" Tarou choked out. "Are you serious?"
"Well, if you'd prefer to remain as Pantyhose, I could always--"
"NO!" Tarou yelled. "No! Fine," he said. "If that's the deal, I'll hold you to it. But I warn you now, Saotome-- if you screw me over, I'll make you regret it. If you die before the naming, I'll destroy everything that links you to this world."
Ranma smiled. "Fine," he said. "But there's one more part to this deal."
Tarou raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"
"You've GOTTA pick another name. I mean... 'Handsome'?"
"Hey, it's a fine name. Names are meant to describe personalities."
"I wouldn't exactly say you've got a handsome personality, Tarou."
Tarou growled to himself. "Fine," he said. "I'll think on it. And I'll go on this little trip." He remained silent for a moment. "But as soon as I think of a name, you'd better come through with it."
"As long as you don't ditch us, fine," he said. He then placed a hand on Tarou's shoulder. "You're a good fighter, and I can respect your skill. You'd be useful in this."
"Better respect my skill," Tarou muttered to himself, then smacked Ranma's hand away. "But we're not friends, Saotome. You'd better get used to that."
"The thought never crossed my mind."
Chapter One: Cry Little SisterEdit
"Hold on to me, Love, You know I can't stay long, All I wanted to say was I love you and I'm not afraid, Can you hear me? Can you feel me in your arms?" - My Last Breath, Evanescence
"Ranma?" Ryouga called, catching up with his friend.
"How's it going?" Ranma asked, leaning up against the wall outside the meeting room. He was waiting for his father to leave, because he had insisted on being the last one out, citing the excuse that he wanted to take a closer look at the 'treasure' of Herb. Not that Ranma believed it, but he conceded anyway.
"Okay, considering," Ryouga said. "Listen, uhh... I kinda need to stay with you tonight."
"Why? Something wrong with Akari?"
"No, no... It's just..."
"You don't want her to know," Ranma said.
Ryouga shook his head. "It'll be easier on her if I sent a letter," he said. "Provided I could even find my way there and be back in time to leave."
Ranma sighed. "You mean it'll be easier on you, right?"
Ryouga thought for a moment. "Yeah... you're right." He quickly looked up at Ranma. "But if she knew, she'd want to come. And if this is really Herb we're up against, and he could take out the Phoenix... then."
Ranma nodded. "I know. I'm not going to tell Akane, either. We'll be out of the house before she even wakes up tomorrow."
"You're sure?"
Ranma nodded. "I hate to lie to her, especially after all we've been through, but--"
"Yeah," Ryouga interjected. "I know."
"Well!" a third voice called from the doorway. "Are you boys ready for an adventure? It's been a while since these weary bones have had some spice in them."
"Don't get me started, Old Man," Ranma said. "You shouldn't even be going."
Genma looked hurt. "What do you mean, boy? I'm in the peak of my physical form!"
"You've barely been out of that coma a year now," Ranma said. "you also got shot in the kneecaps. It's a miracle you can still walk."
"You can't keep a good martial artist down," Genma said. "Besides, you still need the guidance of your father."
"Yeah, whatever," he said. "Let's go."
With a nod, the three of them started to walk.
"Ranma?" Akane called as she came into the main foyer of the Tendo Home. Quickly, she took off her shoes and looked around. Kasumi stood by the entrance of the kitchen, looking blankly at her.
"Kasumi?" Akane asked. "Where's Ranma?"
"Oh my," Kasumi said. "He left almost soon as he got back this morning. He's been gone all day."
Akane furrowed her brow. "Where did he go?"
"I'm right behind you," Ranma said, his father and Ryouga behind him.
The look of consternation drained away from her face. "Oh," she said. "Ryouga! How's it going?"
"I'm fine," Ryouga said, smiling.
"We just got your letter saying you were coming yesterday! That's record time for you."
"I didn't actually leave until last night," Ryouga said.
Akane's eyes popped open. "You got here overnight from Akari's place?"
"Yeah," Ryouga said. "I... uhh... got a ride."
"Oh my, what a novel concept," Kasumi said, now standing behind Akane.
"Yeah, Ryouga's staying the night," Ranma said, looking at Akane. "I told him we'd do something tonight."
Akane smiled. "Sounds great," she said. "Is that where you were?"
"Yeah, we went to get him. He was wandering around downtown Tokyo when we got the message to come get him."
"Oh, what that the woman who was here this morning for you, Ranma?"
Akane blinked. "Woman?"
"That was my ride," Ryouga explained, quickly.
"Why didn't she just drop you off here?"
"Because... I... uhh... kinda lost her in downtown Tokyo. She came here to let Ranma know that I got lost," he explained.
Akane raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I... see... how did she know where we lived?"
"I drew him a map," Ranma exclaimed. "Before he left last time. He gave her the map."
"Yeah," Ryouga said. "A map."
"Oh," Akane said, staying silent only a moment later. She seemed to buy it. "So, I didn't get any homework today." She smiled. "And they let you off this time, seeing as you're a national hero and all. It's funny, really. We're getting the star treatment. Even Ukyou got off pretty good today."
"Cool," Ranma said. "Then whaddya say we head out and see her, then?"
Ryouga nodded. "Sounds good. Let's go."


text:
Lane Medical Library
Journals by Subject
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- v. 164-168, 1998-2002.From: Wileyv. 164-168, 1998-2002.From: Acad Search PremAlso available: Print – v. 157-168, 1991-2002.
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- v. 21-, 1995-From: ScienceDirectv. 33-, 2007-From: ClinicalKeyAlso available: Print – v. 11-26, 1985-2000.
- v. 9-, 1995-From: ScienceDirectv. 33-, 2007-From: ClinicalKeyAlso available: Print – v. 13-19, 1997-2000.
- v. 1-, 2001-From: ScienceDirectv. 13-, 2007-From: ClinicalKey
- v. 1-8, 1987-94.From: ScienceDirect
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- v. 1-, 1969-From: KargerAlso available: Print – v. 1-36, 1969-2004.
- v. 1-15, 1983-99.From: Thieme
- v. 15-, 2007-From: ClinicalKey
- v. 16-, 2010-From: Ovid
- v. 44, no. 4-, Aug. 2011-From: ScienceDirect
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- Includes articles that describe new findings in the field of translational research in gland surgery, provides current and practical information on diagnosis, prevention and clinical investigations of gland surgery. Specific areas of interest include, but not limited to, multimodality therapy, biomarkers, imaging, biology, pathology, and technical advances related to gland disease (breast, thyroid, digestive gland, et al.).
- v. 1-, 2012-From: GMS
- v. 1-, 2004-From: PubMed Centralv. 1-, 2004-From: GMS
- v. 1-, 2005-From: PubMed Centralv. 1-, 2005-From: BioMed Central
- v. 11-, 1989-From: WileyAlso available: Print – v. 11-18, 1989-96.
- v. 1-10, 1978-88.From: WileyAlso available: Print – v. 1-10, 1978/79-1988.
- v. 82-, 2010-From: Springer
- v. 82-, 2010-From: Springer
- "The main focus of the journal is to describe new findings in hepatobiliary diseases, provide current and practical information on diagnosis, prevention and clinical investigations."
- v. 1-, 1997-From: Springer
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- 2014-USERS MUST REGISTER AND LOGIN TO VIEW VIDEOS.From: JoMIJoMI is the first video journal to provide comprehensive video production and editorial services to assist surgeons, physicians, and dentists in publishing peer-reviewed video articles.
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text: Racing 3 Button "QUICK LOCK™" Solid Hub (Clutch Disc) For drag race use only. It's ridged and tough. Nothing bites and holds on like the 3 Button disc. "Severe" best describes the action of the clutch disc. Engagement is harsh and instantaneous with no compromise for slippage. This disc does not require a clutch cover with a high-pressure load. #3


text:
In partnership with the Northern Territory Government through Arts NT Varuna the National Writers House is delighted to invite writers and book illustrators living in the Northern Territory to apply for The NT Varuna Residential Fellowship.
Located in the World Heritage listed Blue Mountains National Park Varuna offers writers, songwriters and illustrators seeking uninterrupted time to develop a new work in an inspirational and productive environment and a friendly and collegial atmosphere.
Varuna invites writers from around Australia to enjoy a Varuna residency providing comfortable accommodation and including private study and all meals, for a cohort of up to five writers at a time.
Four fellowships of $3,500 each are available with two Fellowships available for writers and illustrators from the Top End and two for writers and illustrators from the Central Desert region.
Applicants may be developing a new work in any field of creative writing. This could include literary, genre fiction and non-fiction, book illustration and graphic novels, Young Adult and Junior fiction, poetry and songwriting, writing for screen, theatre or radio.
Applicants to this program are able to design a fellowship program that suits their individual needs. Your Fellowship program could include one or more residency weeks at Varuna, a Varuna mentorship during your stay or even a night or two in Sydney on the way through to the Blue Mountains to develop industry networks. You can also apply to be reimbursed for expenses associated with your residency such as travel and incidental expenses (some conditions do apply). Your budget just needs to come in under $3,500.
Residencies for this program may be taken between January and June 2017. All Varuna Residential weeks run from Monday (arriving from 2pm) to Monday (vacating by 9:30am). For more information on what to expect at Varuna follow the link to our Residency Details.
Selection Criteria
We are looking for applications from NT writers and illustrators who can show achievement and talent in their field of writing as well as being able to articulate clear goals and how The NT Varuna Residential Fellowship will be useful for their creative and professional development.
Applications for The NT Varuna Residential Fellowship will be assessed using the following criteria:
• Level of achievement (works completed, published or produced, awards won)
• Clarity of work focus and creative objectives (how you will use your time)
• Professional benefits to the recipient (where you are now and where you are trying to get to with your writing and how this Fellowship and your current project will help you get there)
• Merit of writing or creative sample provided
Selection Process
Selections for The NT Varuna Residential Fellowship will be made by a committee of three Peer Assessors including representatives from Varuna and from the NT.
All decisions are final and no correspondence about the selection process or results will be entered into.
Useful information
Applicants will be notified of the outcome by 30 September 2016.
Successful applicants will need to contact Varuna as soon as possible after notification of their place, to nominate their preferred dates.
To Apply
To apply for a NT Varuna Residential Fellowship you will need to complete the Application Form and submit your completed application through the Varuna Online Submission portal.
(Applications open 30 July 2016)


text:
Carley Gordan, a reporter for WSMV Channel 4 finally met her match against a 12-pound carp, all caught on video. Standing in a small boat in Nashville, Tennessee, Carley holds up the fish for the camera only to realize that the fish is very much alive. Surprised, she almost falls of the boat but luckily, an official of the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency breaks her fall and she lands on top of him.
Who wears a cocktail dress on a fishing boat ?


text:
Disclaimer: Hellboy 2: The Golden Army and all its associated characters and concepts belong to a whole bunch of people who aren't me, including but not limited to Guillermo del Toro, who is pretty much God. I'm making no profit and intend no disrespect, so please don't sue me.
Author's Note/Warnings: As in 'Unbroken', this story presumes a very unpleasant, abusive relationship between Nuada and Nuala. It also delves into some of the difficulties that might be had by a person who has lived most of her life in an abusive, co-dependent relationship trying to learn how to survive on her own, have a healthier relationship, and, on top of that, be an authority figure. I don't want to give myself too much credit for too much depth, the fic really only skims the surface (no pun intended) of those topics, but if that's going to be traumatic for you, skip this one.
"Hello, brother," Nuala says quietly; her guards stand tense and wary at her back. For a moment Nuada just watches her. This close, it's harder to resist the pull of his mind on hers; what she can usually repress to a faint buzzing, like the sound of voices in another room, is now all too comprehensible. He's simmeringly furious, and frustrated, and afraid and ashamed of that – but above all bored, restless to the point of insanity.
She sits down on a plush, stuffed chair – like everything else in the room, it contains no wood, metal, or hard plastic, nothing that could be turned into a weapon - and sets her bag on the floor in front of her. "You seem well," she says quietly; compared to his state when he was first brought here, he does.
"Will someone open a window?" Nuada yells, looking upward toward the mirrored glass of the observation dome in the ceiling, clearly not speaking to her. Nuala flinches slightly at the abruptness of his outburst. "It suddenly smells like a dock in here." His gaze swings downward, capturing hers. "Do you know what a dock smells of, sister?"
She is mute, hands clenching in her skirt.
"Fish, and whores," Nuada concludes darkly, then flings his head back once more and spreads his arms in an imploring gesture, like a priest offering homage to his gods. "Will you not open a window?" he bellows, his voice full of exaggerated pathos; then his eyes are on her face once more, and he's abruptly leaning forward out of his chair and grinning. "They never open a window," he confides.
They're twelve stories underground.
"I've brought you books, and fruit," Nuala responds quietly, outwardly ignoring the way his mind seems to scrabble and clutch at the edges of hers, searching greedily for scraps of memory. He's disgusted by her – he's disgusted by himself, for that matter, by his own needy desperation. Nuala just focuses on not screaming as she parcels out bits she doesn't mind sharing. The crunch of frozen gravel under her feet, the smell of snow outside and of dozens of different things cooking in the "food court" of the humans' enclosed marketplace. The feel of moist soil sifting through her fingers as she tends the fledgling garden in her newly-built greenhouse. The feel of water – she pulls back sharply.
"Why so coy, sister dear?" Nuada sneers. "Do you think I don't know what you do, and with what?"
"In another season I will have fruits from my own trees and vines," Nuala persists with trembling calm, reaching down into her bag, "but for now, these are human grown but free of poisons." She holds out a ripe plum. "They have markets that sell only such things; I've tasted their wares, and there is no stench of unnatural death on them. They aren't as sweet as fairy grown, but -"
He snatches the fruit away and hurls it into the far wall. It explodes with a wet, obscene-sounding pop, rivulets of dark juice and splatters of flesh dribbling down the blank white paint.
Nuala hears her guards leaping instantaneously closer, hears the whisper of unsheathed blades and the shifting of their armor, metal and leather, as they take a more pointedly defensive posture to either side of her. Nuada pays neither them nor the ruined fruit any attention, not even turning his head as drips the color of burgundy wine seep into the beige carpet. His eyes are all for Nuala, darkly challenging.
"- but they are very rich," she continues on determinedly, voice grown faint. "More sustaining, I think, than our own crops." Her hands shake as she sets the rest of the foodstuffs out on the Styrofoam table beside her chair; it is painted to look like a dark wood, but it smells of chemicals not found in nature and its color is shallow and dull. It wobbles under the weight of two apples and a bunch of grapes, making a whispery dry sound where it shifts against the carpet, too light to settle in. "I know how you enjoy boysenberries, but I could find none today. I'll keep looking," she promises quietly, eyes downcast as she retrieves a small stack of paperbacks next.
"I did find dandelion wine, in their markets," she offers as she sets the books on the table, next to the fruit, "but I can't bring you a bottle. Perhaps I could bring you a paper cup full?"
The books are a seemingly random collection of fiction and reference, memoir and scholarly treatise. All struck her as somehow bright and exemplary, showcasing some aspect of that which is purest and best in the human world.
"What of our markets, sister?" Nuada demands, "Or don't you deign to tread the streets of your own kingdom anymore?"
"The trolls' markets are thriving as they have not in centuries," Nuala offers warily, afraid that this comparatively benign shift in topic is only a baited noose, ready to ensnare her. "More and more of them are opening to the human population daily, and for the moment, the exchange in currency is very much in our favor. Elven silks are becoming -"
"Does it hold you down, under the water?" Nuada interrupts. "Is that what appeals?"
" – ever more sought by . . " she trails into silence as his words register, comprehension creeping cold and skittering up her spine, followed by a flood of nauseous heat, her face going red. She draws in a shuddering breath, trying to steady herself.
"You come here with your petty offerings and your superiority and your stench, the reek of that thing in your mind," Nuada presses on darkly, "and you pretend you want the link between us severed, you pretend to resist me, but I know you. You don't like to resist, do you? You like to be helpless, overpowered, not responsible. It would only have to forget itself a moment and drag you down – do you make it forget itself, sister? Do you-"
"Your Highness?" one the guards interrupts sharply, tone full of righteous indignation and the promise of violence. It makes Nuala jump.
"Test it," Nuada hisses. "Go on. You want to. Order him to run me through." He spreads his arms wide.
Nuala says nothing, only retrieves her bag from the floor with deliberate calm but shaking hands, then walks with measured steps to the vault-like door. "I'm finished here," she speaks into the intercom; her voice sounds half-strangled and strange to her own ears, but steadier than she'd managed on her last visit.
"Stay away longer this time," Nuada says at her back. "The stench on you lingers for days; it had only just faded."
The door opens with a heavy clang, bracketed by grim-faced, armed agents on the other side. Nuala flees.
"Your Highness!"
Nuala pauses and backs up a few steps; Agent Myers comes flying down the corridor she had just passed.
"Sorry," he says, a little breathlessly, as he skids to a halt. "Social visit, day off, I deserve twenty lashes for this, I know, but -"
"What is it?" Nuala asks, smiling a bit in spite of herself. It was An- no. Hellboy, she corrects herself - however ridiculous that sounds to her, she has a unique appreciation for the right of all creatures to define themselves in their own terms. It was Hellboy who suggested John Myers as the perfect human liaison to the Elven court, and he wasn't wrong.
"You need to respond to this," Myers says, and hands her a newspaper article. Colorado Senator Introduces Bill Banning Human Employment of Fey, reads the headline.
"Here's a copy of the bill itself," he adds, plopping it down on top of the article she'd automatically begun to read. Apparently the Senator from Colorado was – publicly, at least – concerned with the fact that her subjects did not pay taxes to his government. "Read it first, then read it second, then read it third, and then you can read that gasbag spouting off to the press about how he's the great defender of humanity, 'cause trust me, if you read the press release first, you're going to be too pissed off to think clearly," Myers suggests. "And there are some nasty little turns of phrase in that piece of legislation."
"Such as?" Nuala asks distractedly, flipping pages and just skimming, feeling exhaustion already beginning to creep up on her at all the circular references and here-to-fores.
"Such as a binding legal definition of "Fey" and "Human" that could be used as precedent to exclude you from all protection of human law," Myers replies; his tone is level, but Nuala can still feel the indignation behind it. She focuses on that as her stomach twists and her mind wants so very, very badly to scurry away. They want us not to exist. But not all of them; not Myers. Not the guards on Nuada's cell with their looks of mingled pity and respect. Not so many of them at all, really, but she has to deliberately make herself remember that.
"Do you have other commitments this afternoon?" Nuala asks Myers soberly.
"Nothing that I can't put off," he says, "but you want savvier legal counsel than me on this one."
"Suggest someone," Nuala responds.
He thinks hard a moment, then says, "Dietrich. Selma Dietrich. Hot-shot lawyer type, she's worked for a few environmental advocacy groups, she's made a few pro-Fey statements, I'm about nine-tenths positive she's going to be sympathetic, and she's press friendly." He pauses. "How're the royal coffers looking these days, though – 'cause her time is not going to be cheap."
Nuala thinks wistfully on the plans she had for what funds are at her disposal - the establishment of a real court, a place bright and alive and shining that the humans could visit and be awed, not frightened. A place where things brought to the edge of extinction might begin to thrive again. A beacon. "Elven silks are ever more in demand," Nuala says, and feels a bitter, childish pleasure at the chance to finish her earlier thought. "We're prospering."
But Elven silks are woven from cast-off pixie cocoons, and there will only be silks so long as there are breeding pixies, Nuala thinks. It has been a long, long time since the population of beings who could afford such luxury has outpaced the ability of the weavers to find raw material, but that is rapidly turning on its head – and where will that lead? She can imagine the price of silk rising yet higher, but she can also imagine pupating pixies boiled alive out of impatience.
"I'll make calls," says Myers. "In the mean time, you need to make a statement for the press, right now. Five minutes ago, actually."
"I should be . . disappointed?" Nuala suggests, though she hates the deceitfulness inherent in the question. She is not so naïve that the need for such political maneuvering is a surprise to her, but she hates it never the less.
Man had been created with a hole in his heart, said legend, but Nuala is beginning to believe legend was wrong. Man was not made that way, but rather something had burrowed inside him, a little worm that gnawed and writhed, and that worm is named power, and it is nibbling now inside her. She wants to be part of the making of a better world, a world not built on fear and manipulation and greed, but she has to start from the world that is and she is finding that those are the only tools she has with which to build.
She hopes that something good can still grow from such poison soil, but fears that she knows better.
"That'd work," Myers agrees, though tentatively, still considering. "You need a real press secretary, you know – but I think if you come across as just saddened by our pettiness, yeah, that'd be good. Be non-scary, but be – you know, that whole summer queen, good witch of the north thing. Do that."
Do that, not be that, but she can still feel the hollowness in her chest expanding.
It is so late into the night as to be technically the next day by the time Nuala reaches Abraham's home within the Bureau. She has retained the services of a sharp-faced, bright-eyed human woman who wants a written copy of Fey law, in its entirety, on her desk within the week – Myers suggests that Nuala look at this as an excellent opportunity to provide more of her people with gainful employment. There has never been a written copy of Fey law; it's debatable if Fey law exists, separate from the edicts of its ruling monarchs. Still, there are things understood, cultural mores known to all whose breaking would bring swift punishment – this, Ms. Selma Dietrich, Esquire assures Nuala, is good enough.
Elven scholars are already at work as Nuala closes the door to the poolroom behind her, finding something soothing in the way it echoes. Her guards remain outside. The scents of the world below cling to her, out of place here beside the constant whir of the filters that keep Abraham's water breathable. The lights are still on, telling her that he is still awake; she's grateful for the prospect of his company but a bit regretful of the brightness, her eyes aching and her head wanting to throb. Between the BPRD and her own ramshackle, scattered court and then back again, were the inevitable meetings with the press.
Nuala tries very hard to think of them as the cultural descendants of bards, but they remind her more of starving tooth fairies, devouring everything in their path.
There was once an observation dome over Abraham's tank, similar to the one in her brother's cell, but the glass there has long since been painted over, allowing him – and now her – privacy. There is only a little bit of ground before the room gives way to a vast expanse of water; Nuala sheds her clothing quickly, trying not to think of Nuada's complaints about her stench. There's no literal truth to his insult, of course, but at the same time she knows what he means – her clothes, her hair, her very skin seems to catch some lingering aura of everything she has walked past in the course of the day, so that by this still hour she feels as though she carries a whispering, muttering, needy and clinging world on her back. She feels stretched thin, used up, those residual shadows more real than herself.
The water beckons, shimmering white and still.
Does it hold you down, under the water? Is that what appeals?
No, Nuala tells herself firmly, but can't deny the way the water's unbroken surface makes her think of oblivion, and fondly.
There are stairs down into the tank, and Nuala takes them slowly, looking down, watching herself disappearing into the blank, still paleness of the overhead lights reflected off the water. It is cool, but not unpleasantly so. Soft ripples radiate out from her, making water lilies jostle into one another.
When she first came here the tank was just that, a tank, a cell, empty and sterile, and Abraham read his books through the windows. It is not so now. Beneath the water dark, verdant shapes sway, and the sight of those shadows makes her smile. Abraham's home is full of living things now, plants floating on the surface and plants in glazed and sculpted pots on the bottom, green things floating in between. Though they are not visible from the surface, she knows there are new curtains on the windows into the library – replicated panels from 'The Hunt of the Unicorn', stitched in experimental fibers that seem to be tolerating their constant submersion quite well, at least for the moment.
Chains wound with wires dangle from the ceiling above her disappear down into the gloaming stillness of the water, descending to a random variety of depths; at their ends are glowing globes of engraved glass. Some are shallow enough for the light to rise to the surface, while some just vanish. Something vine-like has grown thick and stubborn over the switch that used to control the glaring floodlights along the far wall. It took very little exposure to human culture for Nuala to decide she hated those lights; they belonged in a surgery, a laboratory – not a home. That they never bothered Abraham bothered her.
She's descended into the water up to her chest now, her arms spread out and her hands resting lightly on the slight tension of the water's surface. She can feel him, in . . . the study, as he calls the alcove that adjoins the library; he's using his newly-developed, entirely waterproof computer, still enough of a novelty to be a source of constant glee. He's making use of the internet, which is itself a concept that still startles and unnerves her – strikes her as a mechanical sort of telepathy, and she can't understand the distinctions humans insist on drawing between science and magic. He's researching . . . Nuala closes her eyes, fingers spreading wider across the water . . and he realizes she's there.
There is no verbal greeting, just a brush of awareness, shimmering over the taut surface of the water. He's researching poltergeist phenomena on something called wikipedia, he shows her – an interesting thread of knowledge that he lets her track down on her own as he begins copying relevant bits of text and bookmarking potentially useful links, undisturbed by the idea of her exploring freely in his memories, his understanding.
The completeness of his trust is both wonderful and petrifying, far more alien than aquatic houses or internet research, proposals in the Senate and the weight of the world, or – oh, or books being continuously written by anyone who wishes to contribute, even as they are also being read.
Wiki sounds like it belongs in an incantation and the entire concept strikes her as a nigh-religious exercise of faith in the power of knowledge and truth to assert itself. Abraham's response to her thoughts on the subject is something she can only conceptualize as the mental equivalent of a tilt of the head and a glint to the eye; he's fascinated every time she thinks something he would never have considered on his own, childishly eager to trace the paths her mind has taken to reach those conclusions.
It is an exercise of faith on her part that she lets him, while every instinct she has screams at her that she's making too much mental noise. She doesn't know how not to be terrified at the knowledge that she's knocking the intricate, orderly patterns of his thoughts all off kilter. The urge to go still and silent under scrutiny is very like the impulse to breathe, but she cannot bear the sadness or the frustrated rage it inspires in him when she does.
It remains an effort of tremulous will to hold on to her own perceptions and interpretations – to continue to think, aware of his attention – but she's learning, and not only for Abraham's sake.
On the periphery of the thoughts he is so carefully exploring is her awareness of her physical state and surroundings, and thus he knows she hasn't brought her own breathing apparatus. It is custom designed and really very comfortable, but still not the same as the absence of anything at all on her skin, and he understands even as she feels his pang of disappointment. I'll retrieve it in a little while, Nuala promises, even as she very deliberately forces herself to turn, to move, to feel the water swirling against her skin, while he's so conspicuously there within her head. She lets herself fall, slowly, back into the water.
It catches and cradles her and for a moment she sinks before she corrects her posture, head tilted, back arched, and floats. She lets her hands dangle loosely at her sides, not swimming, just drifting. Lilypads brush past her hair, and with a bit of effort she can ignore the mechanical hum of the filters and the ever-present buzzing of electricity, and of worry, and of Nuada still there at the edge of her mind, and of how much she hates the fact that she is still afraid – not of Abraham, but of everything, of openly existing at all. She lets her head fill with the feel of the water around her – here, where she can only touch the surface if she wishes to breath on her own, here is the most peace and safety she has ever known.
He rises up through the water below her, appearing at her back and taking her dangling hands in his. A soft, cool kiss touches the back of her neck, making her shiver and then sag, falling against him. With the tension gone from her body she no longer floats, and he shifts so that her head rests on his shoulder, just out of the water.
"Hello," he says, quite unnecessarily, and the silliness of it makes her smile.
"Hello," Nuala whispers back, and for a moment, just lets him hold her up.