#bitch you sent him to a school that did not have a special education program

[goblins-and-gloves]

Angry at parents hour!

Undiagnosed autistic fuckers are delulu.

[96percentdone]

Welcome to Hope’s Peak Academy

So @jaedeite and I ages ago invented this au. Called “clusterfuck au.” because the main ship is a polyamorous clusterfuck. and it involves the higurashi cast also existing in a dangan ronpa setting. like. a modified pre-despair setting, with v3 kids, and less stupid bullshit. 

AND. Well. I wrote some of it. Happy shitscram bitches

Shuuichi’s summer break has been extremely quiet, or so he would like to say. Ever since he solved that gruesome murder three months ago, the press has been hounding his uncle’s detective office, and even his home. He hasn’t even tried going out this summer, preferring to stay in his small room at his uncles’ house. The world at large too desperately wants to plaster his face on the papers.

It was an accident anyway. A mistake. Really, anyone could have noticed that detail about the knife. How the state of the body didn’t match with the apparent murder weapon. It was obvious, wasn’t it? It really could only have been that man!

Dark eyes with the cold fury of a man thwarted flash through his mind. That glare, that hateful, self-righteous glare; he thinks they’re punishment enough for his sin of solving it.

It was an accident. A mistake. Nobody should have solved that case. Justice was already won before Shuuichi had ever arrived, when that man was sent right to hell. He should have just left it be. Let that broken, damaged family recover without his meddling.

Should he have? Is that what justice is? Letting murderers go free? Letting those who have been brutalized get their retribution, their safety, through any necessary means? He never wanted to answer these questions. He just wanted to solve mysteries. I should have stuck to puzzles and books. 

There’s a knock on his bedroom door, and Shuuichi looks up from his empty desk. “Shuuichi-kun!,” The older, raspier voice of his uncle calls out from beyond the door. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” 

Uncle Yuujirou walks up to Shuuichi’s desk, and hands him an elegant, but simple, white envelope. Oh no, is it some ridiculous interview request? He thought for sure he told him he’s not interested in any of this kind of stuff. Uncle Yuujirou just laughs, with a knowing look on that gently wrinkled face. “I went through today’s mail. I threw most of it out, but I think this one will interest you.”

Shuuichi takes the envelope in his hands, examining it in the careful and precise way he does evidence. It’s not particularly special, other than the black and white stamp. The one that Hope’s Peak Academy uses when it scouts out the talented. Oh no.

***

The letter in Rena’s hand is icky. That’s the only way she could ever describe it. Crisp and white, and yet somehow it sticks to her, gluing itself to her thoughts for months. It sticks and clings like dough when you first try to knead it. The letter reads with elegant, precise letters:

You��ve been invited to attend Hope’s Peak Academy as the Super High School Level Stage Actress. 

“I’m not going,” Rena says, dropping the letter on the kitchen table with disgust. That’s her final answer. Act? Again? No, she quit that. She hasn’t acted in a year, why would she go back now? To the lights, the crowds, back to Shuukyo city. No thanks. She’ll stay right here in Ibaraki.

“Reina—” her father pleads, stumbling out of his chair. He should have expected this. That name has never felt ickier. 

“No! I said I’m never acting again! I refuse!” She can feel herself shaking, hands clenched into trembling fists. She never wanted to be like this again, not in front of her dad, not in front of anyone, not at all. I’m not going. I’m not going I’m not going I’m not going. 

Echoing in the back of her mind is an elegant voice, a laugh, a ‘congratulations, you did so well Reina-chan! We’re so proud of you!’ Unbidden tears build up. Rena refuses to cry, grinding her teeth with all the force in the world.

Gentle hands grab her tense shoulders. “Reina,” her father says in a gentle voice. She doesn’t look up at him. She’s not sure if she doesn’t want to see his face, or if she doesn’t want him to see hers. “You don’t have to act.”

Don’t have to act? You told me you wanted me to go! How can she go to Hope’s Peak Academy and not act? That’s why they wanted her, isn’t it? What is Dad talking about? He’s not making any sense.

“If you really don’t want to go, that’s okay,” he continues with a sigh. Rena can imagine the look on his face. “I don’t want to make you do anything if you really don’t want to. But this is the best education you could ever get. Even if you never act again, you could take this diploma and do anything you want.”

“But they want me for acting!” It’s a pitiful rebuttal. One she knows that won’t last.

“They can’t force you to act, Reina.” He doesn’t elaborate further, but he doesn’t have to. Rena knows it’s true. Hope’s Peak Academy is a high school, not an acting program. They might have a drama club, and even facilities for grand performances, but they can’t force her back on stage. Even if they needle and whine and beg.

She sighs, taking a deep breath. “Okay.” This isn’t like her. Rena is supposed to be cheerful now. What would make her cheerful? “Maybe Rena will learn to become a detective instead! Hau!” Yeah, that sounds fun. Hope’s Peak will find her in their forensics lab. She’s always liked a good mystery.

***

“So, you’re going back to campus tomorrow right Sis?” The familiar voice of her sister asks, slightly muffled in the way all phone calls are. 

“Ahaha, yeah,” Mion replies, placing the last of her controllers in the box. That’s all that she has left for packing. Good! I’m done! And with that she flops back on her fluffy twin sized bed, in her now emptier bedroom. “It’ll be fun to start the club back up again.”

“You mean your club with only two members?” Shion teases, and Mion’s cheeks burn.

“Rika-chan and Satoko show up too!” Sometimes. It’s hard, given that they’re elementary schoolers, and live on a different part of campus. So usually, it’s just two of them. Is that kind of a date…? No, don’t think about that!

Except Shion can smell embarrassment, even from the district next door. “Bet that works out in your favor too, hm? You two can get some alone time. When are you going to make a move, sis?”

“AAGHH, Stupid Shion, shut up!!” Mion groans, kicking the bed sheets as she buries her face in a pillow. It was a mistake for the conversation to go this direction. But as Shion continues to rib her, her mind drifts somewhere else.

They met in the cafeteria. She hadn’t ever seen him before, probably because he wasn’t enrolled in the same course as her. He looked absolutely miserable, staring blankly at the bento he was barely eating. It’s far from Mion to ignore someone in pain, so naturally. ‘Hey, do you want to play a game?’

Those eyes looked confused. ‘Sonozaki Mion…’ He said slowly, as if he was surprised she was talking to him. Didn’t stop her from taking a seat next to him. His eyes got a little brighter at that.

 “We’re just friends,” Mion finally says, in a huff from all the teasing. It took her weeks to convince him to actually play a game with her, never mind join her club, but they’re definitely friends now. She’s happy like that. He looks a bit happier than he used to. He smiles more during club meetings. Mion thinks he looks nice like that. Stupid Mion, change the subject! “Anyway, we’re going tomorrow morning, do you want to come with?”

One more night and she’s back to school again. She’s looking forward to it. 

***

“Yeah, and then have Demon Granny kick my ass for going near Hope’s Peak, no thanks!” Shion says. If I see Grandma never again it would be too soon! Mion laughs. 

“You say that like you haven’t been there before.” 

At this Shion snickers. It’s true that sometimes, “Mion” is her. It’s pretty fun to sneak around campus, meet some of Mion’s friends. But that won’t work here, and besides, “Unfortunately for you, I’m actually busy.”

“Is it the mystery guy that doesn’t talk much?” Ah, him. Shion’s new friend. The one she hasn’t told Mion much about. A twinge of guilt pierces her heart.

“Yeah, that’s him. He’s moving with me tomorrow.” Was that too much to tell her?

“He’s WHAT?” Yeah, it might have been too much. She rolls over on her messy bed and internally groans.

“Well, he can barely take care of himself, even with the jobs he has. The other day we went to the supermarket again, and he still hasn’t learned to get things in bulk—”

“Did mom okay this?”

“I didn’t ask. I told Kasai, and we’re moving him into the empty apartment next door.” It’s the kind of thing you can get away with when your family owns the building. 

“Mmn…” Mion’s frown is quite audible. She can tell her sister wants to ask questions, but doesn’t know how to. Maybe she’s scared to. There’s an intangible wall between the Sonozaki sisters. That’s not a bad thing, is it? What can she even tell her anyway? It’s not like she knows all that much. This is fine. “That makes sense. Try not to burden Kasai-san too much, okay?”

“You worry too much!” Shion takes a glance at the time. Crap, I’m late! “Anyway I have to go! I said I’d help him clean up his old place!”

“Wait, Shion—” But it’s too late, and Shion hangs up. 

Muu-kun: where are you?

Muu-kun : hello?

Muu-kun: muu….i’m getting worried…

Shion: sorry, sorry! I’m on my way~!

***

All finished! Satoko’s dorm room looks mostly the same, just fuller now. Jackets hang in closets, shoes rest by the door, and there’s a few scattered tools, books, and electronics across the desk and bed. It could probably be neater, but she doesn’t see the point, since she’s just going to make the mess again anyway. 

“We’ll be on our way now, Satoko,” says the soft voice of her mother, standing by the sofa and observing the room. Behind her towards the door is Houjou-san—dad. Yeah. He’s dad now, remember? Satoko finds herself frowning, unwanted. “Satoko?” Her mother asks, concern pooled in caramel eyes. There’s the unsaid question: ‘Are you missing your brother again?’ 

“Of course, I am just fine! Ohohoho!” Satoko laughs, regal and fake. It doesn’t bother her at all that he’s missing. That he was here for this last year, and then ran off the next day. It doesn’t bother her that instead of him, there’s only Houjou-san. No, Dad. “I was simply wondering if Rika will be here soon.”

“I’m sure she’ll be here soon,” Houjou-san says with a smile. He always looks happy. He’s not burdened at all by Satoko. Satoko alone is struggling to define what family means to her. No I’m not! Houjou-san is my father! It’s fine. All parental relationships are awkward.

She hugs her mom a bit too tight, and awkwardly side hugs Houjou-san, and then they’re on their way, leaving Satoko alone in her dorm room. Before she gets stuck in her thoughts, she pulls her phone out of her pocket. Hopefully she’s not busy…

***

With a smile plastered on her face, Rika swings higher, higher, on the swingset of the park set. One day she’ll find a way to fly, so high, and finally touch one of those cotton clouds. Push higher—it’s liberating.

 “CUT!” a loud voice yells from outside the filming area. “Take a break! We’ll be back in 20.” Finally. Rika’s smile drops. Or rather, it doesn’t. It just switches to the well-worn form belonging to child actress darling, Furude Rika. 

As she goes over to her bag, The director comes over, praising her for her flawless work like always, blah blah, she’s not really listening. Just smiling and nodding. “Mii. Thank you very much, Akito.” Rika thinks she’s the only one in the world who can get away with this disrespect. 

He leaves, and she ruffles through her stuff until she finds her cellphone, the notification light blinking. It’s always blinking on her phone. Unlock, scroll, god she wishes she could block all these people. So many directors, and managers, and costume people, and agents, and her mother (ugh), is there anything here that’s interesting?

Satokoヾ(○･ω･)ﾉ☆: Have you arrived yet?

Oh yeah. Today is moving back in day, isn’t it, even for the elementary schoolers. She forgot amidst her overpacked schedule. A quick glance back to her crowded calendar and yep, she’s set to finally go and settle back at the dorm in about…six hours. “That’s too long,” she mutters. 

“Akito?” Rika asks, waddling up to the director, who’s busy pouring over a bit of script. “I have to leave early today,” she says, looking down. It’s not like they really need her here. Rika does perfect takes on the first go most of the time. She expects to get irritated texts from her mother, but who cares. It wouldn’t be the first or the last time.

“Ah, today is move in day isn’t it? Of course. You’re not really needed for the rest of the work today anyway,” he says, going into detail about the schedule, and blah blah, Rika doesn’t care. She’s out the door. 

Her mom won’t be happy to see her learn she’s leaving early, but it doesn’t matter. Satoko is waiting.

***

As the math teacher for class 2-BR lectures on and on about polynomials, Hajime wonders why exactly he’s even here. Head propped up in one hand, he glances out the window with a sigh, gazing at the athletics fields beneath him. Below there’s a class for the SHSLs, playing baseball and goofing off together. They look like they’re having fun. Certainly more fun than Hajime is having at this lecture.

His gym classes are not as fun. Maybe they’re not as fun because he doesn’t have anyone to goof off with. He’s friendly with his classmates, but they’re not friends. He doesn’t get what they’re all so excited about. They’re just reserve course kids. They’ll only ever be second best. Just like he is. Why did I enroll here again…?

It’d be easier if just being here made him happy, like it does everyone else in his class. But he’s not happy. Walking through the halls of the large building, with classrooms split between Ts and Rs depending on the course you’re enrolled in, and he’s left feeling misplaced. Lost. We reserve course kids are just here to foot the bills…

His phone buzzes from his front pocket. A thousand yen says it’s Sonozaki. Carefully, although the teacher never notices anyway, he pulls it out and checks his messages.

Sonozaki: club is in session today! o((*^▽^*))o don’t forget. 

Sonozaki: first day back is not a day off

Sonozaki: if you skip out I will hunt you down so don’t try anything (｡+･`ω･´)

Hajime snorts quietly and pockets his phone again. Maybe it’s not that terrible.

***

It’s impressive how empty the halls of the main building of Hope’s Peak Academy can get as soon as classes let out, Kokichi thinks. It’s only the first day, and yet all the excitement of being here at this school, is already zapped after a single day. Well, I guess it wouldn’t be all that exciting for returning students, and he doesn’t think clubs are operating just yet, but it’s still a little unexpected. 

He watches as the remaining stragglers in the hall run off to the library, or even to their dorms with disinterest. It doesn’t matter all that much what they’re doing, anyway. He’s not out patrolling the halls for them, but to get a lay of the land. This is his new stomping grounds. It’s a pretty big campus, so he has to get used to it fast if he wants to make the most of it. 

But it’s still kind of boring. In this quiet building, with its mostly empty halls. If the rest of his cohort were here, it’d be one thing, but there’s no one. Not even someone to antagonize. How boring. He hopes his whole HPA experience won’t be like this. It’s a school for the best and brightest. Surely something interesting has to come along.

Well, I guess for today we’ll bother the people in my dorm! He cracks a grin at that. There’s so many new faces to piss off! Surely at least one of them is exciting.

***

Nobody stands near Nagito as he peruses the many shelves of the library. They scurry away as soon as he’s within 10 feet of them to some other place he can’t see them. He’s used to it. The group of reserve course students who almost lost all their bags in an accidental fire started calling him HPA’s Bad Luck Charm, and it’s spread around the school. He did apologize for that (he swears he was just trying to return that Bunsen burner), but it didn’t make a difference. Oh well. That’s okay. Nagito is used to time alone.

The people in his class tend to stay clear of him, too. Well, Sonozaki-san (as the class president) and a few others are nice, and friendly towards him, but that’s about it. He can’t really burden people as talented as them with his presence. They’re all so bright, shining, hopeful. They’re destined for great things. It’s unfitting for him to be their compatriot. 

Another reserve course student skitters away from him as Nagito starts taking out a new book. He thinks he’d be better suited among their ranks. They’re just as audacious as he is to think they belong here.

When the book comes out, the entire bookcase falls over, causing a domino effect. Nagito starts laughing to himself.

***

The conference room with the steering committee is always really dark. Jin never understood why they do that. Even if everything you need to look at is on a screen, a light is still nice. But whatever.

“We’re no longer postponing the Hope Cultivation plan,” speaks one of the men. 

The announcement sends Jin into a panic. “But, the results of the modified project are still unclear. You could be putting one of the students in real danger—”

“Need we remind you that you were the one who insisted we change the operation.” That was because your original plan was inhumane and ill thought-out. But the steering committee doesn’t care about the ethics of it. The reserve course is just money and guinea pigs to them. “We’ve lost a lot of time because of your efforts. We cannot wait any longer,” the committee continues. 

Damn! Jin needs more time! The investigation into the committee is still underway. It’s going so slow because if they catch on to him, he’s fired, and then who knows what they’ll do to this school. Does he tell Munakata to pick up the pace? Is that a safe play? He doesn’t know. He can’t know. 

“Start searching the reserve course for a test subject. And make it quick.”

The clock is ticking. 

***

The alleyways of Shuukyo city, clean but still covered in graffiti, are always empty at this time of night. It’s too early for the delinquents groups, but it’s just too late for anyone else to spend time in an alley. Keiichi is alone, crouched near some trash cans. They smell really bad, and flies gleefully buzz around them, but despite this he stays right here, tucked out of sight from the kids and people wandering the streets. He has to. It ends before it begins otherwise.

There’s a heavy weight sitting in his arms, made much heavier by the weight of soon-to-be sins. He can still back out. He hasn’t done anything yet. If he went home, right now, it would be like nothing ever happened. He doesn’t have to do this. But he wants to. Or, he deserves to. Or, the pain has to go somewhere. Somewhere that isn’t him. 

So he thinks, deliberating on the pain that has yet to be inflicted, staring down at the BB gun in his hands, aiming at no one, when suddenly—

“Y’know, that’s a really bad prank,” an unfamiliar voice says. Startled, Keiichi drops the BB gun, and it clatters to the floor. In the darkness of the alleyway, he can see the hints of a new silhouette, but he can’t make the stranger out. When did they get here? “There’s a lot more interesting things you can be doing other than that.”

Keiichi says nothing. He’s frozen in place. He’s caught, but he won’t be caught if he just goes home, leaves it here. The stranger can’t see much more of him than he can of them. He’s at no risk, right? Hell, maybe he can shoot them first.

“Do you think you’re special?”

Hah? What kind of question is that?

“Well don’t look so surprised. Only a narc would feel entitled to pelt people with a BB gun.” The stranger laughs at his expense. “Are you a narc?” 

Keiichi still can’t move, can’t speak, but his anger is starting to boil over. What does this person know? They don’t know him! They don’t know his pain, or his struggle! He’s not a narcissist. He’s not! He’s not, right? He’s…not. I’m just—

“Tag, you’re it!” The stranger swipes the gun off the concrete and bolts down the nearby street. 

Before he’s able to think, he’s chasing, following a dark blurry silhouette as they run all across the district. He needs it back. He needs it back, right? What else can he use to take out his anger? But his plan is out the window now. Sure, he could go back to blasting cans, but that’s not enough. That’s what this was for, right? He needs it back! He needs it back. 

He runs and runs and runs. The streets all blur together in his mind, with the only thing in his sights being that stranger with his BB gun. But why does he need it back? Was this ever worth it? Do I even want to do this? Is this going to make me happy? He needs it back. He needs it back!

He doesn’t even know how long he’s been running for. Minutes? Hours? He just has to keep running. He has to get it back. Even if he doesn’t think he wants it anymore. Even if he doesn’t know what he wants.

The stranger hops over a closed gate with the gun, and vanishes. Where am I….? It takes Keiichi a minute, through his heaving and panting, to register the tall, regal brick entryway, and the looming school behind it. Hope’s Peak Academy…? Did he really run that far? He collapses against the brick wall. Guess so. 

As he recuperates, he thinks. How do I get that back? He doesn’t go here. He’s enrolled in specialized schools, and being in the reserve course didn’t seem appealing. But he wants it back. Or. Or maybe he wants something else. 

Maybe there are other ways to be happy.

[ourdarkcollectorrunawayme]

Conversations with my conservative friend

specrOkay, so my friend is huge defender of Ben Carson and claims that the criticisms against him with his appointment to the secretary of Urban Development and Housing, with his lack of experience is racist. I sent him a list of points as to why the criticisms against Carson are not racist, but actually reasonable. My friend then responded, trying to redact logic and reality. I going to post the points I made and the responses he made, to make sure that their is a complete context to the conversation. I would appreciate anybody, whichever side of the political spectrum you are on, with your opinions. 

If Ben Carson was white he would still get the same criticism that he is receiving from Elizabeth Warren and other progressives on his qualifications to be the secretary of the Department of Urban Housing and Development.

Ben Carson, M.D. is a Republican, and if he were a Democrat, he would be getting NO Criticism from Warren. This IS a Type of Racism ... against Minorities in a non-progressive Party that Warren deems an “Uncle Tom” Figure. That is still racist, and that is still disgusting.

Research what other black figures are saying about him, and Kanye West doesn't count, because he doesn't know what he is talking about half the time.

Colonel Allen West, Ambassador Alan Keyes, Senator Tim Scott all like him. That is good enough for me. Even Herman Cain knows Carson, M.D. is a Genius.

The term "urban" is a word that conversatives use when they are talking to their white constituants. It is term used to dogwhistles the idea that "people of color live in the cities and they don't have the same values as rural white Americans and I will protect you from them".So saying that Carson is qualified for the position because he grew up in the urban city of baltimore is like saying because I lived near a beach, I am qualified to be head of the navy.

That is not a Comparison I recognise as accurate. In the South, the rural AND urban Areas have mixed black and white Areas in it. It is only up north that “urban” is a derogatory Term for “black.” And it is true that Values ARE different. The Society and Culture is different. Just look at B.E.T. and C.M.T.

2. Urban Development and Housing department specializes in programs that help people who live in those urban areas, and may not have the same advantages as people with money. And how a city can operate to the best advantages for everyone. Meaning he would be in charge of which programs get funding and contacts and loans going to different companies. This also covers people who would be well within or under the poverty and approves or denies them public housing.If anything, this means my stepmom, as an architect, is more qualified than Carson for the position.

Do you honestly think Obama was qualified for the Presidency or even Hillary? I do not see you going after them. These Secretaries have People under them that have worked in that Department for Years waiting on Retirement that will help guide Doctor Ben into making the big Decisions. I am not worried. H.U.D. IS an important Department. I know someone who works at the Francis Marion Hotel who used to live in Federally subsidised Housing. It is very important. But Carson, M.D. is not making the big Decisions all by himself.

3.Warren's main concern is that the incoming president's business and companies deal in construction and real estate, who he has violated many anti-discrimination laws and mistreating and underpaying the people who build his hotels. Warren just wants a yes or no answer out of Carson that the funds the department receives will not benefit from that department with a friend of his incharge. Carson keeps evading answering that question.

Trump’s Businesses are going to be run by his Sons and Daughters, and they are more than qualified to do that. Donald is not going to be involved with them while he is President. As for Mistreatment, this is the first I am hearing of it. As for underpaying, my last Boss did that for Painters and Construction Workers that did a shitty Job when no Contract was signed. That is Business. I am also concerned Trump’s former Businesses do not benefit, but I have no Reason to assume he would be devious about it.

4. Carson constantly tells the story that when he was young he was angry black man, who was only tamed by Christianity to white conservatives because it plays into their racist master narrative that all blacks are savage and violent. Friends, family members, and people he knew when he was young contract those claims, saying that he was actually quiet.

I am not surprised vindictive Shits would lie about his Childhood. The Lifetime Film I watched about his Life starring Cuba Gooding Jr., seemed to portray him as inwardly angry but outwardly silent about his Frustrations. That is the way I am. And why are only conservatives racist? And why are only whites racist? Larry Elder, a black Libertarian Radio Show Host from L.A. says in one of his Books that black Americans are more racist than white Americans. Hell, he and I are alike in the Christianity tamed me Story. I used to be very angry. You are looking at it from a racial P.O.V. when Race should not be a Factor. He is a PERSON! He is a Human Being and a Christian who happens to have had a troubled Childhood. I think you are inventing Racism – and though I am not calling you prejudiced – that CAN be a Form of Prejudice. Not saying you are!

5. Name another black politician other than Herman Cain.

Lt. Col. And former Congressman Allen West, Amb. Alan Keyes (I voted for him for President over George W. Bush), Doctor Ben Carson, Sen. Tim Scott, John Knight, Thad McClammy, Alvin Holmes, Richard Arrington, Jr.

6. I looked up your claim about Elizabeth Warren, I check politifact and this is what I got http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/statements/2014/oct/29/facebook-posts/critics-say-elizabeth-warren-lives-54-million-mans/ . Another good thing to do when making accusations is the credibility of your source of information.

I said she lived in a two million dollar House with two Servants, a Maid, a Cook, and a Butler, but I may be wrong about the Butler. I think she has a total of four People waiting on her in her Cambridge Mansion.

7. Would you be saying the same things about Elizabeth Warren if she was a man. When you describe women of power like her as "sharp-tongued", "domineering", "ambisious", you are saying she is a "bitch and shouldn't be in a man's position of power". Where as you would applaud men with similar or the same traits.

Instead of inventing Racism, now you are inventing Sexism? Rough Stuff ... I am mad at her for using the Myth of Native American Heritage to get into a good University, obtain Work Credit, and get to where she is. When she ran against Scott Brown it all came out, but she upset him anyway. Women of Power? What about how much I like Condoleeza Rice, Janet Brewer, Sarah Palin, Lurleen Burns Wallace, and so forth? Did you vote for Nikki Haley? I never used the word Bitch. I never even called Hillary Clinton a Bitch, even though my Mom has. And what about your Attitude towards Maggie Thatcher and repeating a Quote where she was called a Bitch? I would not throw Stones in Glass Houses.

7. The word "elitism" has now become a dogwhistle for conservatives. It means "people who are smart and know what they are doing". In the most recent episode of the Young Turks, the panel talks about that and what it means. In a tolitarian society, its not the most vernrable in society to go first, its the intellectuals because they are warning everyone of the danger that is coming. Then ruling party begins devaluing education.

An Elitist is not necessarily someone smart. People criticised Mitt Romney and Donald Trump on Intelligence. An Elitist is someone in a high Mark in Society, plenty of Money, lot of Power, and looks down on everyone else. You are taking my Words and making up your own Definitions. Intellectuals are Libertarians, not Conservatives, Liberals, or Statists (Authoritarians/Totalitarians). Intellectuals never get elected. John Kerry is an Elitist. He married into Money twice. Now he flies aboard Air Force Three. Mitt Romney is not an Elitist because he was a Servant to Men, Women, and Children two Years in Paris giving up a lot of free time, College Years, and earned Money. He was also the Son of Mexican Immigrants. I doubt he has armed Bodyguards. Donald Trump is more or less an Elitist, because he has his own Money, earned, Bodyguards, he looks down on others, and has an arrogant Aura about him. He is still the best out of those four Oddballs. Jill Stein, M.D. was my second Choice. The Liberals and Progressives hate and despise her. The real War on Women is coming from the Left.

And Education is being devalued as we speak. Elimination of Vouchers and Charter Schools, cracking down on private and parochial Schools, sprouting up of Common Core, New Math, etc., and getting rid of School Choice. It is the dumbing down of America, and the inner Cities and metropolitan Areas are being hit the hardest. Ben Carson, M.D. would be better served as Secretary of Education or Surgeon General. I am not sure what the Qualifications for Cabinet Posts are, but Hillary was not qualified for Secretary of State, and look how People flocked to her. She served less than a Decade in the Senate, and she was a First Lady. She got nothing accomplished. I agree that spells bad News for these non-Politicians in Trump’s Cabinet, but maybe it is for the best. You might have preferred Ivanka Trump in the Oval Office since she is a Woman, yes? ~_^

I have noticed Liberals and Progressives not only hate Conservatives, they hate Libertarians as well. I never understood their Bigotry and Intolerance of others who were different ... or traditional. Present Company excluded. I will get to your other Messages tonight, Jen. Take Care! And sorry for me getting all heated.

Please keep comments and reblog responses civil. I am not putting up my friend’s name or email, because I don’t want to throw him completely under the bus or cyberbullied by anyone

[officialydonefanfiction]

Split Across the Continents Chapter #7

Unit J HQ Sophie finished her shower slowly, mulling over what Sam Jones had said. Major missions like this were quite rare for someone her age as they were usually delegated to the older and more experienced agents, then again, Sophie’s last mission had record breaking effects as she had handled it far beyond the parameters of what was expected which had ended with her saving the lives of almost a hundred people directly and several thousand indirectly. It had gone so well that she had been promoted to a rank normally held by the fifteen to sixteen year old agents. Not much came with this promotion apart from bragging rights and on occasion the better missions. Benjamin’s last mission had been a partial success but his epic failure in the fitness department had prevented any type of promotion. After her promotion, Sophie had rubbed her promotion in his face so much that Benjamin hadn’t spoken to her for days until they were forced to go to Wales. Karma’s a bitch was the last thing that Sophie thought before her phone rang for the second time that day. “Hi Sophie, it’s Elaine.” Sophie internally groaned at this. Elaine was her handler, essentially a mixture between parental figure, social worker, teacher, and a huge pain in the ass. She was the sort of woman who didn’t like her whole intelligence career being thrown away to act as a glorified form teacher but underneath that, Sophie guessed that she might actually care about her.

“Hi Elaine.” Sophie said carefully trying to predict the reason she was calling. She had done all her homework, she hadn’t failed the training exercise, she had been mean to Benjamin but then that wasn’t anything new. “We need to have a talk about your mission preparedness. You have only just returned from your last mission and before that was Level One training so your last solid month in school was almost six months ago.” Elaine continued as Sophie groaned. “But I can’t go round turning down missions… thats the whole reason I went through three months of hell to begin with!” Sophie exclaimed as she started to try to run a brush through her tangled mess of curls. “I am going to put you through academic assessment then if you pass, you will be deemed fit to go on this mission. But bear this in mind Sophie, you haven’t actually seen the mission dossier yet or had the briefing so you might turn it down anyway.” Sophie nearly laughed at this, nobody ever turned down a mission. It was as effective at shutting down your intelligence career as having your face on the front of the evening news. Nobody did that and hoped to be offered a place on a good mission. “Why do I have to do academic assessment? I was above everyone else my age anyway.” Sophie whined. “We train you to be the best you can be at everything. Six months away from school is bound to have had an impact and we need to assess it before you can be deemed mission ready.” Sophie made a face at this before hanging up. She was well aware that this wouldn’t help her case at all but she had just spent a weekend on a cold mountain, she was ready to be pissy.

“Good evening, Sophie,” The ever calm voice of Sam Jones radiated through his office. As one of the most senior mission controllers, Sam had one of the biggest offices and true to his nature it was tidy with little whale paper weights organizing everything. The old leather couches near the window fit right in with the old building aspect of HQ but the shiny Macbook with the adjoining screens around his desk contrasted so greatly that it made Sophie’s eyes hurt. Sam motioned for her to sit on one of the couches whilst he approached her with a shiny manilla folder bearing the name “Operation PixieDust” written on it. The name was so random that Sophie almost burst out laughing. Sam motioned for her to open it and as she did, a dossier with the same name fell out as well as some background reading. Her last mission had been thrown together last minute and she hadn’t had time to read a mission briefing but clearly this one had some more time behind it.

Mission Dossier for Sophie D. Please don’t remove this from Mission Preparation. A brief history of drug smuggling. Drug smuggling has been one of the largest and most difficult of all illegal activities to shut down since the signing of the International Opium Convention in 1912. Since then specialized task forces have been set up around the world to combat this with hundreds of major organized crime rings and gangs heading the distribution. Before the use of heroin was prohibited, it was commonly used as an aesthetic for surgeries with its derivative, morphine, still in common use today. It’s effects are powerful and combined with its deadly addiction, leaves its users completely under it’s control often leading them to steal from family, friends and have been known to commit murder in order to achieve their next high.

Andrew Henderson was born in the 1972 in North London to wealthy parents who founded their success on a small private airline called Henderson Air. He was described by his teachers to be intelligent, but easily distracted and they predicted a bright future for him if he was able to knuckle down. During his teenage years, Henderson was expelled after being caught selling cocaine to his peers at school. His drug test indicated that he was a fairly regular user. After completing rehab, Henderson attended sixth form college where he studies business, geography and mathematics achieving high grades in all of them. He was then later expelled from Bristol University after being caught yet again with cocaine in his room. After serving a brief prison sentence in 1993, Henderson dropped off the radar. Henderson resurfaced in 1999 when he was found to have known links to a cocaine smuggling gang that the leader, Rick Greyson, was arrested for in 2002. It is believed that Henderson escaped the initial wave of arrests and took over as leader and reestablished connections across the globe with Henderson smuggling drugs in at as many as 16 different ports in the UK. Police are unable to make any arrests due to inability to tie him to any crimes. Henderson changes burn phones every week and it is impossible to send any adult agents to infiltrate as Henderson will suspect them.

The American connection began when it appeared that AHG cocaine was being smuggled in to the US from the UK in the bags of school children on a school trip. AHG cocaine has since been found entering the US through ports as well as through the air. American DEA have since been investigating many other schools on the exchange program funded by AHG. So far, 20 schools within Washington DC, New York City, San Diego, Boston, and Seattle have been found to have AHG cocaine within them. AHG uses children as their dealers for several reasons as children receive lighter if any prison sentences, children have easy access to users and they are always on the lookout for ways to make extra cash.

The Unit J mission: In Washington DC, a navy officer was found to be murdered with his ten year old daughter having links to AHG. The Naval Criminal Investigative Service (NCIS) believes that the murder of Lieutenant Marcus King is related to the DC gang of AHG and upon further questioning of his daughter Sarah King, Sarah admitted to having been threatened by AHG. Unit J agent Sophie's job is to infiltrate the DC gang of AHG and gather intel regarding the running of AHG within DC. She will be posing as Sophie Hayes, a ten year old girl who has been recently expelled from her British boarding school in the UK and instead is attending James Morgen Middle School where she will attempt to become involved with AHG. Sophie's history of expulsion should allow her to become more involved with AHG as her expulsion shows an ability to take risks. She will be living with two NCIS agents (to be determined) who will pose as her parents who will attempt to find out more about AHG from the adult perspective.

This mission has been classified as MEDIUM RISK as it involves close interaction with known violent gang members as well as involvement with drugs. There will be a mission controller working directly with NCIS in Washington DC but the agent should be advised that she will be working independently for the majority of the mission. Unit J agents are reminded that any voluntary Class A drug ingestion will cause for them to be expelled.

Sophie finished reading the mission briefing and looked up at Sam. “Why the hell is this mission called Operation PixieDust?” Sophie asked him trying to hide a grin. “It wasn’t mentioned in the briefing but we believe that the cocaine used, has a street name of pixie dust. The Americans thought it up, not me. Have you got any real questions about the mission?” Sam smiled sheepishly. “Do they know I’m a kid or are we going to spring it on them like last time?” Sophie asked remembering back to her previous mission. She had been staying with an Israeli Intelligence officer who hadn’t been told she was ten until she showed up at the front door. “They will shortly. I have already spoken to the head case agent, someone called Gibbs? Seemed like a miserable git but  you can’t always get the most positive ones. If you agree to the mission then we will probably fly out to DC in the next week or two.” Sam added. “Of course I’ll take the mission. I’ve never been to America before.”  Sophie smiled really hoping that she could skip her educational assessment before Elaine got on her case again. Sophie opened the folder and started to settle into some background reading, boring but essential, and started on the cold slice of pizza in Sam’s office. “Just one thing, Elaine has mentioned that you need to have an educational assessment. The american middle school you will be going to will be well below your usual standard so I will talk to Elaine and make sure that your normal school work will be sent with you to DC and you can try to catch up what you missed. This is likely to be a couple of months long so we can’t have you skipping school for that long.” Sophie groaned at that hoping that that memo had been lost. “Hey, it’s better than you being deemed unfit for missions over something as stupid as an educational assessment.” Sam chided. “I’ll do the stupid educational assessment.”