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#but i actually dislocated in like. 6 hours after i left the office so..
eileennatural · 11 months
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its so unfortunate to get an injury that results in chronic pain but in an unbelievably lame way. What do you mean my quality of life has been drastically and permanently affected just bc i opened my mouth a little bit too wide after getting my wisdom teeth out
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emsgwenstan · 6 months
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Personal or professional?
Chap 4| chap 5| chap 6.
Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader
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Words: 3k
Warnings: smut, insecurity’s, aftermath of drunkenness, signs of anxiety- no self worth.
Note: mmmkay, so shit happens! Anyway feelings aren’t exactly admitted but Violet tells Larissa something important. No wonder I guess.
The early morning air seeped in through the stone walls and coated me in a thick layer of cold, waking up at sometime around 6am, I sat up slowly trying not to disturb Larissa. I was surprised at how solidly id seem to have slept even though it wasn’t for very long, i didn’t have nightmares and didn’t wake to any random pain my body decided It thought i should have either, the most surprising of all though was that i didn’t feel hung over. shuffling back i rested against the headboard and yawned so hard i might have dislocated my jaw and my eyes watered from how tired i am.
Just sitting staring out to space for a while trying to wake up, Larissa started tossing and turning frequently and it ripped me out of my trans like state, tilting my head to the side I watched as her breath would intake and exhale, pushing and pulling the hair that had fallen over her eyes, she lay facing me and I can’t help but shift down a little to prop my head in my hand and rest on my elbow. With a nimble yet ruined hand I tucked her hair away from her face and stared at her lovingly and for a while I stayed like that, all I want is for her to be comfortable and have a longer peaceful sleep.
After contemplating, I rose from the bed and retrieved my clothes from the arm chair while also finally taking in her decor, it was beautiful all the thick materials and trinkets, the large paintings and photographs that lined the walls, her aesthetic was a mix of deep rich colours with a lighter twist in some of the furnishing, all of it was utterly her, completely Larissa. Pacing quietly to the ensuite bathroom I looked at myself in the huge mirror and wiped the smudged mascara from under my eyes, in the reflection I saw she had a large claw foot bath and a walk in shower that was lined with different soaps, body washes and most of all hair products like, treatments with her toning shampoo and conditioner to keep her silver spun hair to perfection, it was so cute.
I was conflicted weather or not I should just keep on the pyjamas she lent me and wear them until I die or actually get changed, ultimately the latter was the chosen option. Exiting the bathroom I left the lended clothes in the designated Laundry hamper and made my way to the door leading back out into her office to retrieve my jumper and stoke the almost dead fire. My nerves were skyrocketing at the thought of the impending conversation that’s going to happen when she wakes up, I’m not going to cower and tip toe out of her home like a one night stand, not that we actually even went as far to have sex, but that’s besides the point. Suck it up Violet, deal with your own actions.
An hour and a half later Larissa woke alone in her crimson sheets, the sun fully risen and her dark curtains flowing the slightest bit from wintery breeze. Completely dazed at the sight she sat up and slid her feet into the flats she had beside her bed and stood grasping the satin tan coloured robe off the same arm chair as my clothes had rested on. Before making her way to the curtains, out the corner of her eye Larissa’s reflection from the wall mirror was what caught her attention, she internally berated herself with almost walking out looking the way she did, her little bedside clock read 7:46am and again she scolded herself for sleeping in. Quickly she shifted to something more presentable only her face and hair changed, her lips painted a blood red and eyes meticulously covered in natural looking eye shadow and mascara, her hair pulled into a neat low bun.
Drawing back the curtain, there sat on the balcony was me watching over the rail with my feet tucked under myself and a monotone expression washed over my face, Larissa didn’t hesitate to open the door and step outside. I knew she was there, of course, I could hear her, I sat in silence not really knowing what to say. It was a good minute of silence once she sat down opposite the small metal table. “How did you sleep?” Is what I came up with to break the quietness, even though I tried rehearsing what to say for the past hour and a half. “Well, and you?” She said almost if she had barbed wire wrapped around her neck preventing her from sounding sure. Ok so it’s like that. “Fine…” I began. “do you… uh- remember-.” I continued. “Yes.” She said hardly letting me finish. “Right…” I trailed. Another beat of silence. “Do you regret it?” She asked quietly. I paused really thinking about how to answer, I’m sure she did, regret it I mean- I don’t know… I’m kinda lost. “If you do then I suppose, but if not…” I started. “If not?” She asked actually looking at me, we had both avoided eye contact until this moment. “If not then I guess no, I wouldn’t regret it.”
Larissa relaxed into the chair and I was as stiff as a board, did she just basically say she wanted it to happen or am I reading into it too much? I looked back down the railing wondering why there were no students, it’s a Saturday, surely kids would be out and about. “I’m afraid I slept in to late to bid them all farewell, they all went home for the Christmas holidays.” She said as if she could read my mind. “And the staff?” I wondered. “Yes, them to, it’s just me.” Does she not have a family to go home to? Why would she still be here? I nodded at her statement as the cold wind started to pick up causing me to shiver, how she’s not dying of hypothermia because of her lack of layers I don’t know.
“I have to go soon, I need to go to one of the houses I’m renovating and polish a bench top.” I said tucking my hands into the pocket of my jumper. “Oh.” She said. Why does she look disappointed? I sat staring at her releasing that she is now in fact alone and will be for a while. It was always hard for Larissa at this time of year, no matter how much work she’d get done she still had to prepare and consolidate with others for the next year. I feel like saying could you possibly imagin spending all this time alone especially around Christmas, but I won’t because then I’d be a hypocrite.
“Would you like to come with me?” I asked not even registering what I asked until it was too late. “Oh I would want to be a bother.” She said. “You wouldn’t, no one’s going to be there, if your not to busy.” I said as if I was completely confident. “Sure, I suppose I can miss working for a day.” She said. Recounting back to the previous micro conversation I spoke again. “What time did they all leave? Surely we would have heard them.” Larissa quirked a brow. “I thought for someone who knows all about a house and buildings infer structure that you would know it’s not easy to hear through two and a half feet of stone.” She spoke with a hint of sass and a whole lot of tease.
I was taken a back at her new found tone. “Well then headmistress, do tell me what else you know about my job you seem oh so knowledgeable about it.” I quipped, sharing her mirthful voice. “Oh no I mustn’t continue, I might put you out of a job.” She smiled with her eye’s playfully glaring. “Oh shut up, don’t start something you can’t finish.” I said laughing, finally letting myself gradually come down from the nervous high. “You never know, I might know more than you think…” she said with a chesty giggle. “Fine, Larissa can you tell me what a Kimberly large is?” I spoke coming to a stand and towering over her sitting position. Nothing, I could see that all she could come up with was blank, nada, not a clue. “What in gods earth is that?” She asked after accepting defeat. I stepped away and walked back to the door, turning looking at her over my shoulder I said. “It’s a cutlery tray.” With the most innocent expression known to man. Well woman.
Larissa stood from the table with a smile plastered to her lips and headed back into the room as well. “Sorry for leaving the door open by the way, I overthought it because if I close it you wouldn’t know I was out there and if I open the curtains then you would wake up, but then I really didn’t think about how cold it is and I needed some air- so… sorry.” I said in a rushed voice. “Don’t worry about it vi.” She said in a sweet tone. “Ok well if I’m to come with you I’ll need to get changed.” She explained knowingly. “Right.” I turned on my heels and left the room to put on my boots and wait for her.
Stepping out into the room Larissa was in the most beautiful dress I’ve seen on her yet, even prettier than the one she wore to my house that time for dinner, it was just past the knee and was an adorable shade of pink that complimented her complexion, she had a matching coat that had fake white fur around the perimeter of the sleeve cuffs. I don’t even think of a snide remark about the fact we’re only going to someone’s house for me to work, I’m more worried about her getting it dirty and ruining the expensive fabric, but who cares I will always encourage her to look incredible, suitable for the conditions or not, if she’s happy I’m happy, I don’t think it’s physically possible for Larissa to not look good anyway.
“What? To much?” She asked wearily. “Absolutely not it’s stunning, just don’t get dirty now will you headmistress.” I said cheekily. Larissa rolled her eyes and adorned her gloves. Opening the door she looks back at her new desk again and smiles, we set off down stairs and made our way to the truck and drove down the nevermore driveway. “Are you hungry?” She asked. “Not really I don’t usually eat until lunchtime, but we can get you something.” I said. “No I’m ok, I just thought maybe you wanted something.” She said looking out of the passenger window. We sat in comfortable silence until we reached town, although I felt like I was slowly suffocating from my thoughts, terrible thoughts, horrible thoughts. I had to keep averting my side eyed gaze at her porcelain thighs, Larissa’s dress rode up and her coat fell to the sides of her gorgeous legs and my god. Keep it together.
Driving down a few back roads we arrived at the house, getting out I paced straight to the mailbox to get the spare key. Larissa followed behind and waited patiently for me to open the door, the house its self wasn’t overly wowing but it was quaint and homey, perfect for a younger family or older couple. “Ok wait here and I’ll go get my stuff.” I said exiting the house. Larissa took in the interior and thought it was sweet, charming in fact, she wandered through the empty halls watching her step on the drop sheets that lay on the floor, the walls were freshly painted with a light grey and the ceilings weren’t finished yet due to electrical issues with the lights, she walked into the first room she could find to take a moment to slow her rapidly beating heart, it turns out Larissa was quite flustered from the car ride too, and the morning in general.
“Larissa?” I yelled. I could hear her heals coming down the hall. “Hey, I got you these just be careful with your earrings.” I said holding out my pink pair of earmuffs. “Oh thank you, that’s thoughtful.” She said quietly as she slipped them on, her earrings did get caught and I tried to help her. “Here, let me help.” I practically launched myself towards her, I grasped one of the sides and tucked her ear in place trying my best not to hurt her. We were standing so close and my eyes wandered from the side of her head to her cheek and around to her lips, I slowly put down my hands and place them on her hips, I could feel her breath on my cheek. Kiss her, but remember Violet. Slowly I started to lean in, but as my eyes flicked up to see hers, they were already trained on me, in an instant I tense up and take a step back clearing my throat, now looking as red as a tomato.
I gave a shy smile and took in her appearance again. “You look cute.” I mimed, knowing how hard it is to hear with them on. Larissa also displayed a little smile with a light blush, she could hear her pulse in her ears clearly now and the butterflies in her stomach were going wild. I put on my spare pair of earmuffs and started the process of polishing the bench. Larissa watched in awe as it began to shine, but she wasn’t just looking at the material itself she also watch how my hands flexed around the machine and my shoulders moved in tandem with the actions. I could feel her eyes on me and I tried my best to not turn around.
Cutting the polisher off I spun on the spot and waved her over, I grabbed her forearm and pulled her to stand in front on me and place her hands on the machine so she could have a turn. What a stupid idea. My hands were on hers and I turned it on again continuing my ministrations, however the only thing I could think of was how her ass was pressing into my stomach and thighs, for a while everything was fine but when she turned and gave me her award winning smile and nose scrunch I just melted. Before either of us got hurt I turned the polisher of and took off my earmuffs placing them on the bench, Larissa did the same carefully talking them off her head, as I turned to face her again, Larissa looked at me for a moment then grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me, like really kissed me.
I was in shock but didn’t pull away- why would I? it was rough and urgent but fuck it was delicious, she was delicious. Larissa manoeuvred me to sit on top of the counter without breaking the kiss, I hopped up and fisted the sides of her dress and the plush skin that’s hidden beneath it, I felt her tongue lick at the the seem of my lips and with out hesitation I let her enter and explore my mouth. Her hands gently scratched at my scalp before she trailed them down the front of my jumper, her delicate fingers moving tantalisingly slow over my breasts as I grope her ass. Just as she went lower towards my stomach, I pulled back breathless with my eyes closed I, couldn’t see the look on her face as I did so.
Larissa stoped her movements and placed her palms on my thighs, she too was breathing quite heavily, the whole situation was so intense more so now that I pulled back, I didn’t want to but I can’t let her feel the parts of myself that I’m so ashamed of. Her thumbs stroke at my legs in a reassuring manner and her head ducked ever so slightly to catch my attention since I peeled my eyes open. “Sorry… um, we should get going now.” I said quietly it almost echoed through the empty house- it certainly echoed through Larissa’s mind, she was taken aback and so confused, but if I needed to stop, she wouldn’t begrudge me of that.
I quickly pack up my stuff and walked back to the truck in silence, safe to say I felt like shit, I don’t want to offend her in anyway because she’s perfect, beautiful, incredible in every sense of the word and I’m just… well, me. Turning the keys in the ignition and setting off again, I glanced at her fidgeting hands in her lap, hesitantly I placed my own on top of one of hers, Larissa looked at me directly as my eyes were trained on the road, my expression displayed a huge amount of guilt. She was watching me so intensely try to wrap her head around what’s going on in mine, I turned to her and really looked into her eyes as an apology, as a ‘it’s not you it’s me’ kind of look, she engaged the silent conversation with ‘it’s ok’ while also cracking a little smile. I returned my eyes to the road and never let go of her hand.
“Oh, see that house over there? It’s my dream home!” I said excitedly, my eyes lit up and my demeanour changed drastically. “That horrid, run down, abandoned looking one? I don’t even want to ask why.” She chuckled. “Look at it though, it has sooo much potential, imagine all of the work I could do to fix it up, it could be beautiful, and its would be massive on the inside.” I said, Larissa looked at me as if I were insane, to be fair if someone said they wanted to live in a shit hole like that I’d be pretty perplexed to. “Mm I can see that now…I suppose.” She hummed watching it fade from view, after a short couple of minutes we made it back to the work shop where I put away the truck and ushered Larissa to my personal car that stayed there overnight.
Without asking I went strait home in dying need of a shower and led Larissa to take purchase in the lounge room to wait, politely I offered her a drink in which she asked for a tea, I made it and placed it on the coffee table beside her. “Thank you darling.” She whispered smiling up at me once I straightened up. “I’ll be out in a minute.” I said leaving her to go to my room. Larissa sat in comfortable silence casually sipping on the drink, before she set it back down she took ahold of the poetry book that still remained in its previous place, as she opened it there were lots of little sheer sticky notes on the pages, only scanning through the highlighted ones there was one in particular she read over and over.
‘She was beautiful, but not like those girls in magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul.
She is beautiful.’
Larissa kept going throughout the book to relise they were all pertaining to women, it gave her enough satisfaction to know that I did take an interest to woman and that she wasn’t the only one.
Out of the shower, I reapplied light make up and dressed in baggy casual clothes -because I don’t have anything else- and stepped back out into her presence, Larissa set the book back in place before I could see and stood up walking towards me. “Do you want me to take you back now? Or do you want to go somewhere or watch a movie?” I asked. “A film sounds lovely.” She said. “Would you rather out here or in my room?” I questioned. “Where ever you’d like.” She answered. I turned and motioned for her to enter my room, she took off her heels, shed herself from her coat and left it on the floor beside her shoes and sat on the edge of the bed.
I let Larissa flick through Netflix, she’d look at one, contemplate it, watch the trailer, then move to the next one, It wasn’t a bother, it gave me more time to unabashedly watch her. While her eyes were glued to the screen I inched my hand closer to hers and lightly fiddled with her fingers, observing red painted nails against slightly chipped pink ones, our hand were close in size but her fingers were skinnier than mine, ultimately shes skinnier then me in every way. So lost in deep thought my hand traveled up her arm and to her shoulder, then neck, then face. Larissa was doing everything within her to not move, she didn’t want it to end, she was so afraid that if she breathed to hard I would stop.
Snapping back to reality I didn’t pull away, I tried to embrace it, that I did. I grasped the remote in her hand and crawled slowly to straddle her lap, though I didn’t sit on her I mearly hovered, I’m far too heavy for her. Larissa kept her body still and only moved her eyes. “I dont know what I’m doing.” I said quietly, I had her face in my hands and peered deeply into her cobalt eyes. “That’s ok sweetheart, you don’t need to… but, what do you want?” She asked at the same level of voice. For a moment I thought of how to say what I want. “I… I’d like to-uh… I want to touch you.” I said sounding like an inexperienced teenager with a burning blush. “Then touch me.” She said, her pupils dilated and her voice dripping with seduction.
But of course Violet does something stupid and starts to have a minor panic attack. Larissa’s expression turned concerned, she slung her arms around my neck, pulled me flush against her and stroked at my damp hair. “It’s ok, your alright.” She cooed in my ear, my hands and thighs were trembling and burning from clenching the muscles in my legs to stop me from putting my weight on her. Slowly I pulled back. “I need to tell you something.” I said shakily, I know I have to, she needs to understand what the fuck is wrong with me. Larissa nodded and waited patiently for my breathing to slow and to take a pause to muster up the courage of what I’m about to say. You haven’t spoke about this for 15 years Violet, what makes you think she’ll care?
“I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about this but…” I took in another deep breath. “When I was 20, I met a man and we fell in love…” Larissa nodded for me to continue. “We were together for 3 years and by the time I was 23, we were engaged. We wanted to start a family before we got married…” I said, Larissa’s brows knitted together wondering where I was going with this. “So… we tried to have a baby, but after a while, it wasn’t working. I went to the doctor and I was told that-.” I cut myself off to restrain any and all tears. “I was told I couldn’t have children, that I’m infertile.” I said. Larissa thinking I was finished told me that’s ok and that she’s very sorry for how unfortunate that is. “It doesn’t change my view on you though Violet.” She said brushing the hair out of my face.
“But… he thought he wasn’t trying hard enough.” I continued, Larissa’s face and stomach dropped at the statement. “So, he tried harder, more frequently, longer.” I said flinching at my own words. “And when he got tired of it… he threw me away. He told me I was useless and selfish for not being able to give him kids, and then two weeks later he told me that he got another woman pregnant.” I said filling with a little bit of relief as I finally let it out. Larissa was utterly dumbfounded, she sat in shock hardly knowing how to comprehend what I just said. “That’s why I moved to Jericho 15 years ago.” I added. “And… since then, I haven’t- been with anyone else.”
Oh. She thought, this makes so much sense now, Larissa understands how this is an issue for me and considers how I must be feeling. “I’m so unbelievably sorry that happened to you darling. I’m so proud that you told me. But I still remain unfazed, I will not hold you to a different light because of your past, I do not begrudge you of something that has been done to you and happened to you… I promise, it actually makes me more akin to you sweetheart.” She said softly.
I took the opportunity to smash my lips against hers, so full of passion, so full of love, on my behalf anyway. Our teeth and tongues clashing together being completely in sync, the both of us let out breathy moans from the pleasure, Larissa grasped the sides of my thighs and pushed me down to completely sit on her, uncomfortably I did so and without her disrupting asking me to get off I stayed there. In a bound of confidence I pulled her flush against me to access the zip of her dress, she let me drag it down the expanse of her back and pull it down her shoulders, pulling away from the kiss I observed her bra clad breasts and my mouth practically watered from the sight alone.
She reached behind her to unclasp her white lace bra watching me the whole time, the slid the straps down her shoulders and removed it completely and tossed it to the other side of the bed. My eyes flicked down and her breasts were on full view, I brought my hand up to her chest and palmed them slowly, Larissa’s head lulled to the side and let her eyes flutter close. Her skin was so soft and so smooth compared to the skin of my hands, but she didn’t seem to care. I leaned in closer to kiss her shoulder then eventually up her neck and jaw. Larissa tugged at the hem of my shirt wanting me to take it off. I pulled back yet again and lifted it half way before I paused to meet her gaze. She nodded and I continued to strip it off.
My own red bra was displayed in front of her, Larissa’s breath hitched as she took in the sight, my blush returned and all I could do was cover my stomach. I wasn’t too phased at my own breasts and the stretch marks on them at this moment, from the way she was staring I couldn’t tell if she was repulsed or just looking, she removed my arms from in front of me and her sight lowered to my stomach, obviously if we are to continue she’d have to see but all I wanna do is put my shirt back on.
Larissa traced her fingertips along my sides and hummed in what seemed to be delight. “So pretty.” She muttered. “I’m sorry.” I said at the same time, she looked at me through heavy lidded eyes. “What for?” She asked. “Well I’m not as beautiful as you, I’m sorry that if you want to stop because of it.” I said. “Fuck no Violet. Look at you, you’re curvy and delicious, you’re so sexy my darling... Do you want your know my favourite part?” She whispered leaning into my ear. “Yes.” I answered. “These, and this.” Larissa’s fingers danced over the stretch marks of my breasts and stomach. Internally my insides were fluttering and heat pulled at the apex of my core.
“Can I take this off?” She asked referring to my bra. I let her remove it, as a little gasp left her lips I once again took the opportunity to kiss her again. I couldn’t stop myself from bucking my hips into hers looking for friction to grind down on. Larissa clamped her hand on my hips and roughly guided me back and forth across her thighs whilst simultaneously diving into my chest with her mouth, she latched her lips around my left bud and sucked hard causing me to arch into her more and throw my head back in pleasure. She didn’t forget to give the other attention either.
I got off her lap and asked her to lay down, as she did so I ripped off her dress that was still wrapped around her waist and unceremoniously tossed it aside. Larissa’s stomach was pale and soft much like her breasts all I want to do is mark and bite it, I sat between her parted legs and hooked my fingers in the waistband of her panties and rushed to get them off her long legs, I couldn’t slow down even if I wanted to, she’s like a drug or aphrodisiac that runs freely within my veins. Her pussy now on full display and her body at my mercy, I looked down at her, my own lust exuding and at that moment we both knew this wasn’t going to be sweet or timid, it wasn’t going to be gentle. It was going to be rough and urgent. It was going to be sinful and nether of us could stop it. I’ve depraved myself for far too long long and I can’t push her away.
Making myself comfortable on my knees and bending to level with her heat, I gave her one last look before latching onto her clit. The moan she let out was almost pornographic and only made my own pussy contract around nothing and leave me with ruined underwear. Larissa fisted the sheets beside her with one hand and with the other she gripped my hair pushing my face into her impossibly harder, she ground down on my face searching for more. I gazed through my lashes to view her blissed out face and kiss swollen lips, like I said, it’s not possible for her to ever be unattractive.
She made eye contact with me and slightly controlled her face more to clearly see through her hazy eyes. I brought my hand up to her entrance and carried on with my assault on her clit, sitting up a little I made sure she could see what I’m doing, I held up a finger, then another, then another, clearly signalling three. With those three fingers I wiped up her folds before entering every single one at the same time, she hissed and her eyes rolled towards the back of her head, the sight of her was just as pleasurable as what I’m giving her. “Fuck… oh fuck yes.” She moaned.
After her third orgasm she pushed me away from her overstretched and over simulated core, crawling back up her body I left red and purple marks on her otherwise untouched stomach and sternum. Larissa yanked me up to her face and kissed me again using her tongue to taste herself. “Your turn.” She growled flipping me over onto my back, Larissa undid the drawstring of my pants and shimmied them of my legs along with my underwear, I hadn’t even realised I used my hands to cover my stomach again, not until she lifted them of and kissed my palms and placed them on her shoulders. Larissa sat on my lap and used her nails to graze over my arms and sides, this was only the beginning, she tormented and teased for a long time before she couldn’t refuse the inevitable.
Panting out of control and sweating to high heaven, we lay side by side completely naked and exhausted. Larissa stood from the bed and walked into my ensuite with her hips swaying, I sat up wondering why she left. She’s probably touching up her make up and getting ready to leave. I thought, a melancholy feeling filled me and I reached for my t-shirt and slipped it back over my head. Hopping off the bed as well I pick up the strewn clothes and place them nicely on the end of the bed. I smiled at the thought of what just happened, Larissa was so beautiful with her smudged lipstick and mascara, the tremble in her limbs when she came, the way she looked at me when I came undone, even the little bits of hair that came loose to frame her face. Larissa was more than this though, she deserved more, something more domestic, more beautiful than a passionate fuck I suppose. Larissa deserves home cooked meals and hand holding in the street, she’s worth the efforts that a romantic relationship includes, like bathing together and eating together or having someone she loves’ chest to lay on. I think the worst part is that I know I’m not that person.
Larissa walked out of the bathroom with a wet cloth and looked at me quizzically. “What are you doing?” She asked. I stood back from the bed and cracked my knuckles nervously, avoiding the art work I stained her body with. “I thought you wanted to leave… I was just picking up your clothes so they didn’t get to creased.” I said looking to the ground. Larissa paced towards me grasping my arm and pushing me to lay back down. I followed her silent instruction but was confused as to why she started to lift my shirt again. “What are you doing?” I whispered. “Cleaning you up.” She answered. It felt like the air was knocked out of my lungs at her statement. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes, Larissa spread my knees and started to gently wipe away the accumulated arousal.
She sat folding the material continuously and cleaned me until she was satisfied. Her eyes moved to looked at mine and her self satisfactory smile faded once she saw my burning cheeks and wet eyes. “Oh what’s the matter?” She asked tossing the rag to the door way of the ensuite and cupping my face. “No-.” I stuttered. “No one’s…” Larissa’s brows raised trying to understand. “Nobody’s ever done that for me before.” I said chocking on my uneven breath. “Oh darling.” She said dragging my body up to hers embracing me tightly.
Larissa looked at me like I was the most fragile thing in the universe, I hated it, I wish I wasn’t like this. A while later we decided on a movie and snuggled under the covers, she stroked at my hair and giggled at the screen from time to time, I didn’t give a fuck about the tv, to be in this moment with her was so for filling and wholesome. I pondered for a second before letting myself ask the question. “Larissa?” I started. “Mmm?” She hummed looking down at me. “I was wondering if you would like to come away with me after Christmas?” I said hoping she would but trying to come to terms with the possibility she’d say no. “Yes.” She said with a grin. Oh. “I have to go to my parents houses, dads for the first week then mums for a week… if you’re not comfortable with that-.” She nodded enthusiastically and said. “Yes I will, what day do we leave?” I looked at her wondering why she seems so excited but continued anyway. “The 27th, my sister’s are gonna be there and my nieces, which is nice I haven’t seen them for a long time.” I said. Larissa agreed and was looking forward to it, and of course she started to make a mental list of what to pack.
For the rest of the afternoon we stayed in bed and went through countless amounts of movies and whatever snacks I had in my pantry. She sat in my clothes, in my bed, in my room, in my home, Larissa to me felt like she belonged there, like this is exactly where she’s supposed to be, because to be honest I’m really being to think she is my home, Larissa weems owns it all though, all the materialistic things I own from the things in my house to the clothes I wear on my back as well as my heart and soul and if she wanted me to I’d kill myself if she asked. I love her more than anything. perhaps it is more personal than it is professional, but that’s the tragic part isn’t it?
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Blind Spot AE
This is my alternate ending for Law and Order: Criminal intent Season 6 Episode 1 Blind Spot.
“Where is she?“ Bobby yelled, pushing the old man against the wall. Declan was aghast by his former mentee’s sudden rage. “I … I don’t know.“ He revealed truthfully, his eyes wide open staring into Bobby’s tired face. Bobby didn’t really want to believe that Declan had anything to do with Eames’ disappearance, but he also couldn’t deny the obvious connections he had found. Sebastian? Was it really an old serial killer coming back murdering all those women? But why Eames? Sebastian was Declan's white whale, so involving Eames wouldn’t make much sense. But why was Declan so convinced Alex was dead? The mere thought of that image send a million shivers down Bobby’s spine. A million questions and not one clear answer. Usually, Bobby broke down a case like this in a clear pattern. First look at the abductee, who were the people close to them, who’d seen them last. But every one of those answers lead back to himself. None of her family had heard from her. It suddenly came to him that there was literally nobody else in Alex’ life except her family and him. This thought was immediately followed by an even sombre thought. What if she was seeing someone, but he didn’t know. What if she had fallen for a maniac psycho? No — he stuffed that thought right to the back of his mind where it had come from. But then again, why the connection to Declan and Sebastian? Bobby’s ability to focus, let alone ask the right questions had been disabled the minute the text message from Alex’ cell phone had come in. He felt like a phone in Airplane mode, able to execute the basic functions but unable to process any information. The sound of someone knocking on the transparent walls of the visitors room suddenly caught Bobby’s attention. It was Captain Ross’ stern look through the glass that made him realise he was still clenching Declan’s collar fast in his fists. He let go of him finally and the old man let out a relieved breath. Did Declan really not know where Eames was? But who would if not him, his mentor? If a guy better at reading serial killers than Bobby himself couldn’t tell him where his partner was held captive, how would he ever find her? Who else knew Sebastian and his MO better than Declan. Bobby wiped the sweat off his forehead as Captain Ross entered the room, Declan still crouched into the corner Bobby had shoved him in. “We’ve triangulated Eames’ cellphone, the signal bounced between three towers within the Red Hook area in Brooklyn.“ Ross announced. Bobby’s glance fell at Declan, to see if Red Hook rang a bell. “Sebastian stuck to the east side area, he wouldn’t have stepped one food into Red Hook …“ Declan exposed, his eyes avoiding Bobby’s. He knew Declan was holding something back. The blood was boiling in his body. “Are you sure?“ Ross asked, also sensing something was wrong with the profiler’s behaviour. „No he is not … what’s in Red Hook?“ Bobby was leaping at Declan again, his fists clenched tightly together. He couldn’t stand any longer that Declan might know where Eames was but didn’t tell him. “Goren!“ Ross hissed at him to stay away from the old man. Bobby obeyed, turning away from Declan, piercing him however with a flaming look. “He knows something…“ he yelled at the Captain, his anger directed towards him now. He dramatically flung his hands in the air and brushed the fingers through his hair. If anything would happen to Alex just because he wasn’t persistent enough to find out the truth, he would never forgive himself. “Sebastian, doesn’t have any connections to Red Hook.“ Declan repeated, stepping out of the corner sitting down at the desk again. “But I do… My brother worked at a butcher shop at the pier. I used to bring Jo there when she was a kid.“ Declan remembered. He was completely calm sitting at his desk, not even pondering about the fact he might just have incriminated himself or his own daughter. He also seemed oblivious to the fact that Bobby was on the edge trying to find his partner and that time was pressing. “Jo. Of course.“ The million thoughts in Bobby’s head suddenly seemed to come in order. Things seemed to fall in place now and it made him dizzy. The only one knowing Declan’s cases as well as himself and maybe Bobby was Jo. She’d grown up on stories of Sebastian as if they were afternoon cartoons. Everything seemed to make sense now, but the warm feeling of puzzle pieces falling together revealing a clear picture didn’t make Bobby any less agitated. He would be calm when they’d found Alex. “What’s there now?“ Bobby asked his mentor. “The shop closed ten years ago, it’s an empty building.“ Declan revealed calmly. Bobby barely let the man finish. He ran out the door determined to walk there if he had to. It was his only chance at finding Eames alive and he was not going to waste one second. Captain Ross started after him, making a dozen phone calls on the way.
Alex had finally been able to get the tie off her eyes, which had been used to blindfold her. She hadn’t heard anything from her kidnapper in what must have been hours so she finally decided to make an attempt to free herself. When her eyes were finally able to focus, she mustered her surroundings. Her stomach dropped as she realised she was hanging from a meat hook screwed to the ceiling, like a pig ready for slaughter. What she had thought was sweat running down her arms had now revealed itself to be blood from the shackles carving themselves into her skin. She’d lost the feeling in her fingertips hours ago but her twirled back shoulders burned like fire. She wasn’t sure if they’d not been both dislocated. Around her she made out empty boxes and a blood stained shower curtain covering the part of the room the screams had come from the night before. She was sick to her stomach thinking a girl had been killed five feet away from her and she wasn’t able to do anything about it. The tips of her toes were barely touching the ground underneath her but she managed to get herself rotating so the hook would unscrew. After what had felt like the millionth turn around her own axis, the hook finally unscrewed and she fell to the floor. As soon as her body hit the cold cement ground adrenaline started raging through her veins. There was no way she would get herself down from there and not be able to get out of this god-forsaken cellar she was in. She picked herself up from the floor and started running through the first door she could find. She ran as fast as the narrow halls allowed it, stumbling over boxes and what looked like dumped furniture. Her heart was almost jumping out of her chest and her lungs hurt from the amount of breaths she took per minute. She had taken the meathook with her and held on to it as if her life depended on it. After what felt like an eternity of detours and dead ends she finally made it to a heavy red bunker door. Although every bone in her body was burning and aching she pulled all her physical strength together and turned the wheel to open the door. Right as she had felt the heavy bolts retract she pulled the door towards her. She used her whole body weight to pull it open. Right as she wanted to escape through it, however, she came to an abrupt halt. She had run headfirst into something. The exhaustion and dehydration delayed her realisation that she’d actually run into a person. As soon as she grasped the fact that someone was clutching her arms, she started fighting. There was no way she had brought herself so far only to run into her kidnappers arms. “Alex, stop. It’s me!“ Bobby wasn’t sure if he should hold on to her or let go. Alex was kicking the air trying to free herself from his tight grip. He didn’t want to hurt her so he decided to let go. After Bobby’s grip loosened she finally took a good look at him. She recognised Bobby’s face in front of her. She stopped in her tracks staring at him fearing she was hallucinating. He grabbed her by the shoulders once again, bending his head down to look directly into her eyes. “Alex, it’s okay, you’re safe now.“ His words echoed in her buzzing head. His face finally came into focus, not only with her eyes but also with her brain. It was actually Bobby, surrounded by SWAT officers in helmets and armour. To his left she could make out Captain Ross’ face. Slowly, she could feel her body collapsing. The Captain’s face merged into one with the SWAT team. She could see Bobby’s mouth moving but she didn’t hear a single word he said, until everything faded to black.
Bobby felt Alex’ feet giving out from under her. He clutched her upper arms tightly with his hands as not to lose her. He let her fall into his arms and slipped his right hand under her knees to pick her up entirely. Her head fell heavy on his shoulder and he carried her all the way back the hallway he’d been coming from. He’d been so worried he’d never see her again. A huge burden dropped from his heart when he found her falling into his arms like she did. It meant she was alive, it meant he was in control now. It meant that nothing could happen to her now unless he let it and he wouldn’t. An ambulance was already waiting outside and he carefully placed her onto the cot. Her skin was grey and her closed eyelids appeared almost blue. Her arms were both covered in blood coming from her bleeding wrists. Her chest moved very shallowly up and down like she was barely breathing. The lump in Bobby’s throat grew with every scratch end every bruise he spotted on Alex’ body. How could he ever have let her get hurt like this? Part of him knew he wasn’t responsible for what had happened to her but a fundamental part of his self-loathing brain blamed himself none the less. The connection between Jo Gage and Alex Eames was none other than him after all. Maybe Jo would have never chosen Alex if her father hadn’t pointed out how much Bobby seemed to care about her. “Please move aside sir..“ A paramedic caused Bobby to zoom back into reality. He realised he was still standing beside the cot holding her hand. He let go of it quickly as not to stand in the way of the paramedics work any longer. He watched Alex being loaded into the ambulance and he lost sight of her as they shut the door and flashed away with sirens and red light. He wiped his nose with his sleeve. “She’s gonna be fine..“ He could feel the Captains hand on his shoulder. He knew she was. He looked down on his blood stained shirt and anger crept up at him again. “Jo. It all makes sense now. She used Eames and the other girls to get Declan’s attention.“ Bobby eventually revealed his theory to Ross. “Let’s find out..“ Ross gestured towards his car, for Bobby to follow him.
Jo had confessed. Bobby had lulled her into a conversation watching her father through the window of the interrogation room until she finally confessed. He wasn’t especially happy to have brought her behind bars, but he knew it was the right thing, to get justice for Eames and the other girls. After two officers took Jo away, Bobby made his way to the hospital. He watched his partner through the little window on the door to her room, before he entered. She was lying on the bed hooked up to all kinds of machines and with bandages around her head and wrists. She looked even thiner than she usually did, but Bobby was relieved to find her awake. He knocked on the door to announce himself then entered without waiting for a response. Alex slowly turned her head towards him and put a weak smile on her face. „Well, you look like shit..“ She greeted him, her voice hoarse and weak. Bobby pushed an audible breath out his nostrils and settled himself on a chair next to her bed. “I’m Sorry!“ He apologised his eyes mustering her pale face. “What for, it wasn’t you was it?“ Alex replied. Bobby shook his head embarrassedly. “Five minutes,“ The nurse warned him and pulled the curtains to give them some privacy. Upon the sound of the metal rings grinding on the pole Alex’ breathing got heavier and faster. She squeezed her eyes together tightly as if she was trying to blend something out of her sight. “That sound?“ Bobby asked. “There was a curtain like this in the cellar. It’s where he tortured a girl, the entire night. There was nothing I could do for her..“ Alex voice broke telling her partner about what had happened to her. Her eyes started glimmering at the thought that she couldn’t help the poor soul screaming and crying only a few feet away from where she was held. „It was Amanda, the video store clerk.“ Bobby carefully revealed. Alex turned her head away as not to have Bobby see a tear escaping her eyes. “There’s nothing you could have done..“ Bobby grabbed her hand squeezing it softly. Alex turned to him again, his warm hand on hers felt so good. “And it wasn’t a him. It was Jo Gage.“ He exposed to her. Alex frowned, not knowing what to make of this information. “Jo? Are you sure?“ Alex couldn’t quite believe it. She had imagined her kidnapper, tried to make out their face although she couldn’t see them. She had thought it was a man, never in a million years did she think it could be Declan Gage’s daughter. She thought she would be happy and relieved hearing they had caught the person who did this to her, but the euphoria was limited. Alex too had felt sorry for Jo. The only thing she had ever craved was attention from her father and the only way she would ever get it was through an act like this. Alex rarely had understanding for the perpetrators actions but in this case it was crystal clear. Jo’s father’s obsession with psychopaths eventually turned him into one as well, and over the years he had successfully driven his own daughter into the same madness. “You think she’ll finally get the attention from her father she’d craved all those years?“ Alex asked. „More than ever…“ Bobby was sure. Alex’ eyelids were feeling like lead. She could barely hold her eyes open for longer than a second. The pain medication made her dizzy and she slowly drifted off. Bobby watched her fall asleep, still holding on to her hand. He was determined to keep holding it and to occupy this seat next to Alex’ bed as long as he had to. The adrenalin this day had pumped through his arteries began to wear off, Alex was safe and he would make sure she’d stay that way. Her breathing was even and peaceful and after a while of watching her chest go up and down, listening to the monotonous peeping of her heart rate he drifted off too.
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justlookfrightened · 5 years
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Zimbits 32 “You could have died.”
Bitty tucked his laptop in his messenger bag and tried to tiptoe out of the bedroom without waking Jack. No one should be up at 5:30 in the morning – Bitty included himself in that thought, but last night staying with Jack seemed more important than getting to sleep until 6:30 and still make it to seven o’clock practice – and Jack had a game tonight.
It almost worked, until the edge of Bitty’s bag caught the door and bounced off the doorstop. That was enough for Jack to roll over and crack an eye open.
“Leaving already, bud?” he asked, voice raspy from sleep.
“I have to, sweet pea, or I’ll be late for practice,” Bitty said, going back to the bed to lean down and give Jack a kiss. “Love you. Talk after the game?”
Jack mumbled something affirmative and buried his face in Bitty’s pillow.
At least Bitty could take the car and not have to depend on trains and buses or have to do fifty minutes in a rideshare. Jack first suggested buying him a car last summer when Bitty was living in Providence, but Bitty was adamant that a car, even a used car, was too big of a gift.
“I couldn’t,” Bitty said. “My mama and daddy would have a fit, and besides, I can’t afford the insurance and all. And don’t just say you’d pay for that too.”
So Jack had simply gone out and bought himself a second car, a new Prius, and handed the second set of keys to Bitty.
“It’s my car,” Jack said. “But you have blanket permission to drive it whenever you want. And I made sure my insurance would cover you.”
Bitty had squawked, but Jack pointed out that lots of his teammates had two cars, and he didn’t need to have his SUV just to run errands. Then over the summer Bitty got used to having a car when he needed one. He didn’t keep it at Samwell all the time, but knowing he could make the drive from Providence in less than an hour made it easier to see Jack mid-week. Which was important, since neither of them usually had weekends off.
Bitty connected his phone to the car’s speakers, started a peppy playlist to keep himself awake, and headed north. Traffic wasn’t bad this early, so he should even have time to grab a coffee.
Jack’s phone was making noise. It was still dark. His alarm shouldn’t have been going off yet. Did he forget to change it for a game day?
No, not his alarm. That was his phone actually ringing. He grabbed it and looked at it. Bitty? He shouldn’t have made it back to Samwell yet. Maybe he had car trouble?
“Hello? Bits, you okay?”
“Excuse me, with whom am I speaking?”
“Who is this?” Jack’s confusion was rapidly dissolving into fear.
“This is Sergeant Zach Terry with the Massachusetts State Police, and your number is the emergency contact on this phone, which belongs to –”
“Bitty.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Eric Bittle. What happened? Is he okay?”
“First could you confirm your identity, sir.”
“Jack Zimmermann.”
The police officer continued as though he didn’t recognize Jack’s name.
“Mr. Bittle was in a car crash,” he said. “He’s being taken by ambulance to UMass Memorial Medical Center. The car he was driving – a 2016 Toyota Prius – is registered in Rhode Island in your name –”
“They’re taking him to the hospital?” Jack said. “So he’s alive?”
“I can’t share medical information,” Sgt. Terry said. “The ambulance left here about 20 minutes ago. You can call the hospital, but unless you can demonstrate that you are family –”
“I’m his emergency contact –”
“On his phone,” the sergeant said, not unkindly. “If he’s conscious, he can allow them to share information with you.”
If he’s conscious? Shit, shit, shit, shit.
“In the meantime, sir, once the accident investigation is complete, what do you want to do with your car?” the sergeant said. “It’s going to be totalled, I’m sure of that, but it’s got to go somewhere.”
His car. Who cared? But it hit something. Someone? Or someone hit it?
“I don’t care about the car,” Jack said. “I’ll call my agent, they’ll deal with it. What happened? Was anyone else hurt?”
“The deer that caused the whole mess,” the sergeant said. “And the other driver that swerved to avoid it and hit your car was also injured. He was transported to the local hospital.”
So he wasn’t hurt as badly. Fuck. Jack should be happy someone wasn’t going to a trauma center, unconscious and alone, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
If he wanted information, who would they give it to? Bitty’s parents? He should call them anyway. But Jack looked at himself, sunk onto his bedroom floor with his back against the bed, hands shaking.
He looked at his phone again, searching the contacts.
“Shitty? It’s Bitty.”
Bitty awoke to a pounding headache and the sense that he was somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. The sheets were scratchy, and the light was too bright and he was flat on his back instead of curled up with Senor Bun.
He tried to turn to his side and found he couldn’t. Also his left shoulder and side were on fire.
“Bits?”
Jack. Jack was here. Was he hurt too?
“What happened?” Bitty asked. “Where are we?”
“UMass hospital,” Jack said, as Bitty slowly turned only his head to the other side. “Worcester. You were in a car accident this morning.”
“Your car –”
“Is not something I’m worried about now,” Jack said. “At all. How’re you feeling?”
“Hurts,” Bitty said.
“Yeah, I imagine,” Jack said. “You were in and out a few times, but they gave you some pain meds, so you probably don’t remember.”
Bitty stared at the ceiling, trying to recall. Nope. Nothing about being in this hospital. Or … a car accident?”
“What happened?” Bitty said. “I have no idea how I got here.”
“You were driving back to Samwell this morning,” Jack said, and Bitty started to nod but stopped because it made his head swim.
“I remember that. Early practice.”
“Yeah, you, um, didn’t make it to practice,” Jack said. “Someone swerved to avoid a deer near Uxbridge and they lost control and hit you in the driver’s side. Got the deer anyway, too.”
“I’m sorry,” Bitty said. “I didn’t –”
“Don’t,” Jack said. “Don’t apologize. You were driving up the highway not doing anything wrong, and some idiot drove into you. Doesn’t everyone know you don’t swerve to avoid a deer because you could cause a worse accident? You might have died.”
“But if I hadn’t driven back this morning …”
“This is not your fault,” Jack said. “It’s not your fault, and it’s not my fault for insisting that you should drive the car. I could have gotten up and taken you in the truck.”
Even in his cloudy state, Bitty got what Jack was saying.
“Sweetpea, maybe it’s not my fault but it most certainly isn’t yours,” he said. “Who’s to say we both wouldn’t have been in the hospital then?”
Jack snorted at that. “Not likely. I don’t have your lead foot.”
“Haha,” Bitty said. “Have they told you what’s wrong with me? Concussion, I’m pretty sure.”
“Yeah, once your parents told them they could let me in and talk to me,” Jack said, trying not to be bitter. At least they had allowed the hospital to pull him into the loop. It was just that they had to in the first place that rankled. “They’ll be here in a couple of hours, by the way. So, concussion, laceration to the side of your face, dislocated left shoulder, badly bruised ribs. They were afraid they were cracked, but you avoided that.”
“Ugh,” Bitty said. “How long before I can skate?”
Jack shrugged. “Too soon to tell,” he said. “Couple weeks at the very least, and longer for contact. But probably not the whole season. I should call your manager – or Hall directly. He’ll want to come see you now you’re awake, too.”
“Now – what time is it?” Bitty asked.
“About three,” Jack said.
“In the afternoon?”
Jack nodded, and Bitty could see how exhausted he looked. He was dressed in full Burger-King-robber getup, dark track pants and hoodie, he hadn’t shaved and the pallor of skin only emphasized the dark circles under his eyes.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Bitty said. “You have a game.”
“I’m not playing tonight,” Jack said. “I’m scratched for a family emergency.”
“Family, huh?” Bitty couldn’t help but smile.
“Family,” Jack said. “They��ll probably let you go either tonight or tomorrow morning. I’ll stay here until I can take you home with me.”
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new-to-this123 · 5 years
Text
River Love
As Per Requested
could you please do a imagine where the reader and Bryce have been best friends since they were little and the reader sees Bryce in the river and saves him? maybe they end up dating at the end or something? thank you :)
Bryce Walker X Reader 
Warning: swearing, fluff, season 3 spoilers
Word Count: 1642
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Text: 
Bryce: Hey after the game meet me at the pier
Y/N: ok. I miss you brycey!! 
Bryce: :) i miss you too. That's why I wanna see you. 
Y/N: ill be there :P 
Y/N was sitting in the crowd waiting to watch the Liberty/Hillcrest football game. It had been a very anticipated game, since this would be the first game all the boys from Liberty would play against their former captain and friend, bryce walker. 
Y/N had been friends with bryce since kindergarten and nothing could come between them. Y/N knew that Bryce had done some questionable things but Bryce had always been good to her. In freshman year, he even stopped a senior from raping her. 
Jessica and her HO buddies ran onto the field cheering “Hey hey ho ho Rape Culture has to go”, then Carter from HIllcrest grabbed her boobs and the riot started. All the boys from liberty and hillcrest were fighting each other. The coaches and the police tried to break the boys up. Y/N ran onto the sidelines trying to see if she could see Bryce. By then the police and staff had managed to break up the fighting and she decided to head to the parking lot. Bryce wasn't there either. 
Y/N drove down near the pier and parked. She never saw Bryce drive by nor did she see zach come and go. But she did notice ALex and Jessica drive by her. She got out her car and followed. She arrived at the pier and saw Bryce on the ground with alex in front of him and jessica not far behind. She tried to listen to their conversation but she was too far away and didn't want to get caught. She was slowly moving closer to the three when bryce's voice got louder and she heard 
“For fuck sake you guys. Please”  jessica and alex exchanged a few words that Y/N couldn't hear and JEssica walked away and Y/N heard Bryce say to alex
“Please, i don't want to die out here. Alex! Alex, please” and bryce's voice got quieter and Y/N couldn't hear but Alex walked towards him and helped him up. As he helped Bryce up, Bryce screamed in pain, causing Y/N to start crying quietly. Suddenly bryce was yelling again. 
“FUUCK! Fucking Zach! Im gonna fuck up his other knee and wreck his fucking life” 
Alex answered “you're not going to do anything to zach.” 
“Im gonna fucking destroy him” bryce yelled in pain. Then he looked at jessica and said angrily 
“You! You set me up” 
Alex yelled back “ She did not set you up” to which bryce yelled back 
“She fucking set me up!” 
Y/N stood up from where she was and saw bryce and alex stumbling around. When they stopped alex said something to bryce and started pushing him over the edge of the pier. Bryce tried to fight back but with his legs broken he couldn't do much. As Alex pushed Bryce over the edge Y/N ran up to Alex and jessica, looked at alex and yelled 
“WHAT THE FUCK ALEX”  before jumping into the cold river after her best fried. 
Bryce couldn't keep his head above water with both his legs broken and was panicking. Y/N had a hard time reaching him because of his panicked state but when she did she swam  to shore with bryce in tow and called 911. 
The ambulance arrived and brought both teenagers to the hospital. Y/N was brought to a room and made to wait to be taken by police while bryce was rushed into surgery.
Once the sheriff arrived at the hospital they took Y/N to the station to be questioned. 
“Y/N please don't lie to us, i know you know what happened so tell me” officer standall told Y/N. 
“I told you I didn't see who it was, all i know is that alex and jessica got there and bryce was already beaten up, alex helped bryce up, bryce got defensive alex got mad and pushed him in the river, I jumped in to save him. I swear it's the truth.” 
“Alex pushed him in?” officer standall asked again. 
“Yes!” 
“OK you can go” officer standall told Y/N 
Y/N rushed back to the hospital, ran in and talked to the desk clerk in the emergency room. 
“My friend was brought in by ambulance all beat up and thrown into the river, i need to know if he's ok” 
“He’s still in surgery, you'll have to wait in the waiting room.” the clerk told Y/N. 
Y/N walked towards the waiting room and saw bryce's mom. 
“Oh Y/N the doctors told me that you saved him”
“Ya i jumped in after him and pulled him out. You know I never understood why they made waterproof phones till now” Y/N told Nora Walker with a half smile. 
Nora started crying and hugged Y/N and said 
“Thank you so much Y/N! Thank you! I know he's done bad things but i swear he's getting better. I know he's trying.” 
“He is getting better Nora. he's been doing so well!! He knows he messed up and he knows he needs help. And porter is really helping him!” 
Y/N and Nora sat in the waiting room for a few hours before the doctor came out. 
“Well i got some good news for you, he's going to be ok.  It's a good thing you were there to pull him out because he wouldn't have been able to save himself. He's got a severe concussion, a dislocated shoulder blade, and in both of his legs his tibia, fibula and patella are broken . With lots of patience and physiotherapy he’ll be able to walk again, and maybe even play sports again.” 
“I don't care about sports as long as he's ok.” Nora said crying happy tears
“Yes he’ll be alright. You guys can come see him if you want” the doctor said leading the way to bryce's room. 
As soon as Nora and Y/N walked into the room they started crying seeing bryce all bandaged up and with both legs in casts. About an hour of being in the room he was slowly waking up from the anesthesia. 
“Mom” bryce whispered 
“I'm here honey. And so is Y/N” Nora answered. 
“Y/N” bryce whispered. 
Y/N held onto his hand. Bryce patted the bed beside him, signinling Y/N to come lay beside him. 
“I'm so happy your ok brycey” Y/N said hugging bryce, tears falling down her eyes. 
Everyday day after school Y/N would go see bryce and on weekends she was there from morning till night time. She never left his side. 
It was saturday morning and Bryce had been in the hospital for two weeks now. Y/N was sitting in bryce's bed with him just talking and helping Y/N with some of her homework, when the physiotherapist walked in. 
“Good morning bryce. Good morning Y/N. How are we this morning?” she asked 
“Y/N is giving me my daily dose of gossip and were catching up on some school work.” bryce laughed 
“Alright well now it's time for me to give you your daily dose of arm physio” the physiotherapist laughed. 
Bryce had just recently started doing physio for his dislocated shoulder. The doctors had told him that he could take the sling off as of two weeks and that it would be 4-12 weeks before he was 100% better. His tibia, fibula and patella fracture would probably take another 6-8 months to heal completely. None of that stopped Y/N from being there everyday and being by Bryce's side to support his recovery. 
Three months in the hospital and Bryce was finally being released. He was wheelchair bound until his legs could support his weight. Y/N Drive to the hospital to pick up her best friend. 
"Y/N you're here!!" Bryce said as the nurse pushed him outside. 
"Of course I am silly" 
Bryce got into the car and Y/N Drive off. 
"So you remember what I told you about a month in to the hospital?" Bryce asked grabbing Y/N hand
Y/N smiled looked over at Bryce and replied 
"Of course I do! You told me you were taking me on a date the day you were released!" 
"Good you remembered!!" Bryce smiled " since I can't drive, I was hoping you wouldn't mind driving, maybe we can do Rosie's or Monet's or wherever you wanted?" Bryce said shyly.
"Is Bryce walker blushing?" Y/N laughed as she saw her best friend blushing.
"I choose Rosie's!" Y/N said driving towards Rosie's. 
Y/N parked and helped Bryce out of car and they sat at Rosie's. 
They enjoyed their night. They talked and reminisced about all the things they've done together and all the boys and girls they've dated over the years. 
By the time they left Rosie's it was almost 2 am. 
"I've missed the outside world so much" Bryce said to Y/N as she pushed his wheelchair outside. 
"Ya I'm happy I finally get you outside the hospital" 
Y/N helped Bryce into her car and drove him home. The whole car ride the teens held hands. As Y/N pulled up to Bryce's house Bryce looked over at the young girl and smiled. 
"You know Y/N, You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid my eyes on. And, I really like you, actually I love you. Do you maybe want to be my girlfriend?" 
"Awwwe bryyyyyyce. I love you too!! And yes yes I do!" 
Y/N leaned over her the middle console in her car and kissed bryce.
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lfthinkerwrites · 6 years
Text
A Riddle for a Bat, pt. 6
Title: A Riddle for a Bat
Fandom: Batman
Pairing: Riddlebat
Rating: T, for mentions of risque activities
Chapter Summary: Bruce meets two of Nigma's sources and gets to see the private detective in action.
Previous Chapters: 1/2/3/4/5
AO3 Link
The drive to Gotham's Lower Westside was as uneventful as one could expect, given the occupants of the car. Bruce looked out of the corner of his eye at his passenger, who seemed positively delighted at the fact that he was in the Batmobile. Nigma had been asking questions about the controls since he'd buckled in. He pointed at a small blue button on the dashboard, like a child in a candy store. "What does this do?"
"Smoke grenades," Bruce answered shortly.
Nigma nodded, a smile coming to his face. "Fascinating. I can't imagine the kind of resources it must take to maintain a vehicle like this..." He pointed to a large red button next to it. "What about this one?"
It was actually to launch a grappling hook, but Bruce decided to have a bit of fun at the man's expense. "Passenger ejection seat."
He smirked at the wide-eyed expression on Nigma's face. "Really?"
"Want to give it a test?"
Nigma sat against his seat with a huff. "Oh, very funny. Are you always this charming, or am I just lucky?"
Bruce turned his attention back to the road. "Focus, Nigma. This isn't a social excursion."
"Yes, yes," Nigma said. "There's no reason we can't at least attempt to enjoy ourselves on this caper."
"This isn't a 'caper', Nigma. Eight people were killed and Falcone was attacked in less than ten hours. You need to take this seriously." When they stopped at a red light, Bruce turned to see that Nigma had a thunderous expression on his face.
"Just because I don't dress in black and terrify back alley denizens doesn't mean I don't take my work seriously," he said. He crossed his arms. "I didn't agree to work with you so you could talk down to me."
Bruce's grip tightened on the steering wheel, but then he relaxed. The man had been in GCPD once. He clearly wasn't a stranger to an investigation. "I didn't mean to be condescending," he said at last. "But the people behind this are dangerous. We both need to keep our eyes open and not get distracted."
Nigma's expression was still angry, but he gave a curt nod. "Of course," he said. He gave Bruce a curious look. "Why isn't Robin with you? Why did you come back to my office?"
The light turned green and Bruce took advantage of it to concentrate on driving. Nigma however continued. "That explosion in the hospital...Robin was injured, wasn't he?"
"Nigma," Bruce grit out. "Drop it."
There was a long moment of silence in the car, for which Bruce was grateful. Then, he heard Nigma say something he never expected. "I'm sorry." Bruce took his eyes off of the road to look at Nigma's face. His earlier irritation was gone and he looked genuinely regretful. Bruce didn't respond and turned his eyes back to the road. Nothing more was said for the rest of the drive.
Finally, Bruce pulled the Batmobile off the main road and pulled into a narrow alleyway. He parked in front of a dingy bar, the neon light sign flickering off and on, bathing the Batmobile's hood in a pink glow. Bruce opened the hood of the car, allowing himself and Nigma to exit.
"The Treasure Chest bar," Nigma said with a flourish. Now that they were here, it seemed that he'd chosen to go back to his confident, swaggering persona. "Home to all sorts of colorful characters. As well as a few surprises." He gave Bruce a mischievous look. "Shall we?"
Bruce continued into the bar, not bothering to say a word. The few denizens that were still in the bar at this hour shrank back at the sight. Even the bartender, a burly man with a heart tattoo on his large left arm, nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw just who had come into his bar. He quickly raised up both hands. "Hey, I don't want no trouble man,"
"We're not here to cause trouble," Bruce heard Nigma say. The green-clad private investigator shot him a dirty look before continuing to address the bartender. "Nice seeing you again, Doug."
The bartender visibly relaxed. "Oh, it's just you, Eddie. Came to see the girls?"
"Astute as always, Doug. May we?"
The bartender got from behind the counter and guided the pair to a liquor shelf near the back of the bar. He pushed the shelf aside to reveal a steel door. The bartender got out of the way as quickly as he could. "Tell Deirdre she still owes me from last week!"
Nigma let out a laugh as he stepped forward to open the door. "We'll be dead and buried before she ever pays that bar tab. See you soon, Doug." Nigma pulled the door open to reveal a staircase heading down towards a lower level. He turned back to Bruce and stepped to the side, holding his arms out. "After you." Bruce stepped forward without another word. Nigma followed, shutting the door behind them and the light from the bar gave disappeared, leaving a dim light from the hallway below as the only source of illumination.
"You know the bartender?" Bruce asked as the pair made their way down the staircase.
"Quite well," Nigma answered. "He's been a source of mine for some time. More importantly, he's a middleman between me and the girls."
"I take it Dierdre's one of those girls?"
"Very good. Yes, Dierdre Vance, the owner of Pandora's Box. Her girlfriend, Nina Damfino should be down tonight too. She doesn't work in Pandora's Box, but she comes around a lot when she's not out with her biker friends."
Dierdre Vance and Nina Damfino. 'D.V' and 'N.D.' That answered those initials on Nigma's whiteboard. Now to figure out just who 'K.K.' was. "How exactly did you come to know these two?"
Bruce could hear Nigma chuckle a bit. "Come come, you don't expect me to give away all of my secrets, now do you? Where's the fun in that?"
Bruce barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was sure he'd find out soon enough. The pair had reached the bottom of the staircase and began walking down a hallway, lit with a low red light above. Decades ago, during the height of prohibition, this had lead to an underground speakeasy. After prohibition had been repealed, the speakeasy had been abandoned, and the space had been used by various groups since for illicit activities. Pandora's Box was only the latest tenant, having set up shop about five years ago. Bruce himself had been there twice before while pursuing leads for various cases, but he kept that information to himself, for now. Bruce and Nigma reached the end of the hallway and approached another steel door. Nigma darted ahead of Bruce.
"Allow me," he said. He took the head of his cane and rapped it against the door three times. There was a slight pause before the door opened to reveal a large man, dressed head to toe in leather, wearing a mask that revealed only his mouth and eyes. Bruce recognized him as the bouncer for the club. He also recalled that the last time he'd been here, he'd dislocated the man's arm for attempting to physically prevent him from entering the club. From the way that the man's eyes widened, he remembered that all too well. Then he looked at Nigma. "You!"
Nigma tipped his hat at the man. "Evening, Mike. Is the lady of the house in?"
The man stepped forward, extending his hand out to Nigma and Bruce grabbed a Batarang. Before he could throw it though, the man had laughed and heartily clapped Nigma on the shoulder. "Eddie Nigma! Come on in! How the Hell are you?"
Nigma chuckled. "I've been well. I'm afraid this isn't a social visit though. My associate and I are here on business."
The bouncer glared at Bruce. "He's caused trouble here before, Ed. Are you sure you can trust him?"
Nigma turned to give Bruce and almost scandalized look before he cleared his throat. "Cross my heart, Mike. We're just here to talk to the girls."
The bouncer looked reluctant but stepped to the side to allow them entrance. "OK, but only because you're vouching for him." Nigma strolled in and Bruce followed, glaring right back at the bouncer. "You better not be setting Eddie up," the bouncer growled before shutting the door. Bruce ignored him and followed Nigma into the club.
The main room of the club was bathed in a red light, similar to that in the hallway. There were perhaps two dozen people milling about the floor, dressed in various BDSM paraphernalia, or in a few cases, not dressed at all. Bruce barely acknowledged them as he followed Nigma, watching as he exchanged pleasantries with a few regulars before making his way to a private curtained area near the back of the club. No one seemed particularly surprised to see either the private detective or the Caped Crusader and Bruce wasn't quite sure what to make of that. Bruce followed him past a few private stalls, ignoring the muffled groans coming from within. Finally, Nigma stopped at a large room, this one with a door rather than a curtain. He rapped his cane against it, calling out "Deirdre! Nina! Are you decent?"
The door swung wide open and two women walked out, one with a short, black pixie cut dressed as if she'd just come in from a biker rally and the other wearing a surprisingly professional blouse and pants, her long blonde hair hanging loose. Nigma had mentioned that Damfino was a biker, so that meant the blonde woman was Vance. Nigma held his arms out jovially. "Girls!"
The girl with the black hair stepped forward, embracing Nigma fondly, while the blonde came forward and placed her hand on his shoulder somewhat stand-offishly, but with still obvious affection. "Eddie!" the brunette said. "It's been forever! Where have you been?"
Nigma laughed. "I'm sorry, Nina. Work caught up with me, I'm afraid." That confirmed their identities for Bruce at least. Nigma took a step back and looked at the pair of them. "You two certainly look like you've been up to some mischief!"
"You're one to talk, Eddie," Vance drawled, her lazy brown eyes making their way to Bruce. Bruce steeled himself for a potential confrontation, but instead, she looked back to Nigma. "Business or pleasure?"
Even in the red light of the club, Bruce could detect Nigma's flush. "Business, Deirdre, I assure you!" He gestured to the room behind them. "May we speak in private?"
Vance gave a quick nod and she and Damfino led them both into the room. Bruce shut the door behind them as the women took their seats at a large desk in the what Bruce now realized was an office. Nigma took a seat in a chair in front of the desk while Bruce remained standing. "Now to business," Nigma addressed Vance. "I trust you two have been keeping up with the news the last twenty-four hours?"
Damfino nodded. "The mob killings? Yeah, we heard." She looked up at Bruce with vague interest. "That's why Mr. Tall Dark and Brooding is here?"
"Nigma told me that you two are part of an information network he's set up to keep tabs on the crime families in Gotham," Bruce said matter of factly. "Do any members of the crime families come to this club?"
Vance raised a manicured eyebrow. "Aren't we blunt?"
Nigma raised his hands in supplication. "Now now, dear. Don't let his gruffness get on your nerves too much."
Vance huffed but continued. "Fine. One of Falcone's enforcers is a regular here. Dominic D'Abruzzo. He comes in every two weeks or so, more often if there's some action going on with the other gangs." She reached down to open a drawer on her desk and pulled out a large manila envelope. She passed it to Nigma. "Dommy boy's into pain and women with high heels."
"You don't say," Nigma said, opening the envelope. He pulled out a photograph and his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets. "Oh my. This is something he'd never be able to live down." He grinned. "Perfect."
"You take photographs of your patrons?" Bruce asked. Even if he personally found what the patrons of Pandora's Box got up to a bit unseemly, he found blackmail even more so.
"Just the mob guys," Vance said. "The normal guys and girls that come in looking for fun? No. Everyone deserves to have a bit of fun now and again, right Eddie?"
"Quite right," Nigma said a bit hastily, placing the photograph back into the envelope. "Has D'Abruzzo said anything about his employer's activities."
"Other than reminding the girls here what a big hotshot he is, no," Vance answered. "Last week though, he brought a guest with him."
"Another member of the Falcone crew?" Bruce asked.
Vance shook her head. "Not sure. Haven't seen him before or since. I don't know all of them by sight though."
Nigma got out of his seat. "I think we have all that we need," he said. "Thanks again, girls."
Vance waved him off. "You still owe us lunch, Eddie."
Edward tipped his hat. "I'll take you both out this Friday. Deal?"
"Deal," Damfino said. As Bruce and Nigma prepared to leave, she said cheekily, "Have a good time, Eddie."
Bruce watched as Nigma flushed again. "Nina!" he cried out as she laughed. He quickly left the room, leaving Bruce wondering just what that exchange was about and not sure he wanted to know. He followed Nigma out of the room and back through the club.
"So," Nigma said as they walked back into the balmy Spring night, "Off to rouse D'Abruzzo?"
Bruce said nothing as he entered the Batmobile. As soon as Nigma had strapped himself in, he said in a cold tone "You didn't tell me that you gathered blackmail material on the mob as well."
Nigma looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "You didn't ask," he said. "And that implies that I specifically go out of my way to do so."
"And you don't?"
Nigma scowled. "I prefer to call it information gathering that I may or may not use to leverage more information out of certain parties. It's not all that different from what we used to do in GCPD."
"But you're not in GCPD anymore," Bruce pointed out. "You're a private citizen, which means you're playing a very dangerous game with no legal protection." Not to mention that if Nigma was in the habit of blackmailing mobsters, just what else was he capable of?
"You should talk!" Nigma shouted. "I happen to know for a fact that you regularly threaten to drop people from multiple stories in order to get information from them! So don't you dare take that moralizing tone with me!"
"I'd never actually do it though," Bruce ground out, struggling not to lose his temper. "I'm not so sure the same can be said about you."
Nigma leaned back in his seat. "I see," he seethed. "So is this partnership actually about solving the case with me, or do you just want to find an excuse to get rid of the competition?"
"I don't see you as competition, Nigma," Bruce said. "I've found out something about you that gives me pause. In my position, wouldn't you be a bit suspicious?"
Nigma seemed to consider this and if the pout on his face was any indication, he saw Bruce's point. "Now look who needs to focus," he said at last. "Perhaps you should spend a bit less time suspecting me and a bit more time on our next move."
Bruce narrowed his eyes, then started the Batmobile. As much as he hated to admit it, Nigma also had a point. He couldn't let his personal feelings about the man to affect the case. Too much was at stake. "We'll get D'abruzzo to talk. Then I need to talk to Maroni. And you're not going to release any information we find out about anyone."
"Of course not," Nigma said. "What good is a secret if everyone knows it?"
D'Abruzzo wasn't happy to see either man when they showed up to his apartment in Gotham's lower West Side. He glared defiantly down at Bruce as he held the man up against the wall. "I ain't sayin' a damn word to you freak!"
Bruce tightened his grip on D'Abruzzo's shirt. "Your boss was attacked last night," he said. "It's in your best interest to cooperate."
"Or what?" D'Abruzzo snarked. "You'll throw me off my balcony? I live on the second story asshole! I've had dinners with the rest of the crew that were more dangerous than this!"
"I'm sure you have," Nigma drawled, watching the scene with boredom. "I'm also quite sure you actually enjoy pain, don't you, Dominic?"
D'Abruzzo looked at Nigma, then back at Bruce. "What's he talking about?"
Bruce lowered D'Abruzzo off the wall but kept a tight grip on him just the same. Maybe it was time to take a step back and watch Nigma work.
Nigma walked up to the men, pulling the manila envelope out of his tailored green jacket. "I happen to know for a fact that your tastes are a bit, shall we say, unconventional. He pulled out the photograph he'd looked at back at Pandora's Box and showed it to D'Abruzzo, smirking when the enforcer's eyes widened in horror. "I suggest you listen to the man in kevlar and talk, otherwise we won't be the only ones who know."
D'Abruzzo looked almost beseechingly at Bruce. "He's not serious, is he?"
"Would you care to test him?" Bruce asked in response.
"You're Italian," Nigma continued. "You probably play the good Catholic in public at least. So must your mother I imagine. Tell me, how many 'Hail Mary's' does letting yourself be beaten by a woman in fishnet stockings and high heels merit? Or should I ask Mother D'Abruzzo that?"
"Don't you dare!" D'Abruzzo shouted, attempting to break out of his hold and rush at Nigma, only for Bruce to throw him across the room, sending him crashing into the sofa and toppling to the floor.
Nigma raised an eyebrow. "Was that really necessary?"
"You're the one who got his mother involved."
"Touche."
D'Abruzzo groaned out. "Alright," he wheezed. "Alright. I'll talk. Just don't show that to my mother."
"Very good," Nigma said. He gestured to Bruce. "He's all yours."
Bruce walked over to where D'Abruzzo lay on the floor and glowered down at him. "We were told you brought a guest to Pandora's Box the last time you went," he said. "Who was that?"
"Just another guy I know in the crew," D'Abruzzo said. "He was curious. Why do you wanna know?"
"I think there's a mole in your crew," Bruce said. He watched carefully as D'Abruzzo's eyes widened in surprise, then as his face reddened in outrage. D'Abruzzo clearly was lacking in judgment, but he wasn't the mole. "Someone leaked information about your boss to Thorne. Who knew he was going to be hospitalized?"
"We all knew the boss was sick," D'Abruzzo said. "The boss's lawyer, Louie, and Carlo were the only ones who knew where he was goin' though-" D'Abruzzo's brow creased in thought. "No," he murmured. "That ain't true. There was someone else who knew too."
Bruce leaned down. "Who?"
"The boss's driver," he said. "He knew. He had to know. He took the boss just about everywhere."
Including to his meeting with Maroni. Bruce stepped away from the crumpled man and walked back towards Nigma. "We're done here."
"Wonderful," Nigma said. He took placed the photograph back in the envelope and tossed the envelope towards D'Abruzzo's prone form. "A token of appreciation for your service."
"Fuck you," D'Abruzzo called out.
"Not in this lifetime or the next!" Nigma shouted back. He looked at Bruce with a satisfied grin. "To the driver then? I know who and where he is."
"Of course you do," Bruce said. "Let's go, 'Partner'."
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tina-incambodia · 6 years
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Service Interrupted.
I have so much to say but I'm not sure I could put it into words that would successfully complete the journey from my mushy brain to my shaky finger tips. I wasn't planning on ever having a "Part 2." I planned on an 11 day vacation in the 9th month of my service. Instead, I left my home for about 8 weeks. Home? What's home?
“You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart always will be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.”
― Miriam Adeney
June 14, 2018
I'm sitting in the airport. The same one I sat in almost one year ago to leave the first time, but it couldn’t feel more different now. I have people, whole families that love me on both sides of the planet. I have two bedrooms, thousands of miles apart. I am welcomed at countless dinner tables and patio chairs, yet I couldn’t feel more lost or, most of all, homeless. So I'm back on a plane to search for a feeling and chase a dream. It is a wonderful yet painful experience to have a heart so full yet stretched so, so thin, 8,671 miles to be exact. 
So, 8 weeks is a long time to be home… or be away from home…? It’s a long time to be so unsure of and have no control over what comes next. Limbo, as I like to refer to it. With Peace Corps as the facilitator, I've spent many, many months of the past few years in limbo. And the answer to most questions during those times is, "I don't know." Not "I don't know," because I don’t want to tell you, but because I truly don’t know. I don’t know when I'm leaving. I don’t know if I'm staying. I don’t know what I'm hoping for either. That is one real thing I've learned. When Peace Corps used the word, "flexible," years ago, I can say now that I had absolutely no knowledge of what that word actually means. To be flexible with coming or going, and staying or leaving, in regards to home…. And to know and understand that hoping worrying for either end is, to be frank, useless. To reach a place in your mind where either and any option will be okay for you. On small scales this is simpler; having flexible eating habits, for example comes more easily. Sure, I won't be happy about eating my 536th bowl of rice this year but hey, I'm flexible. This is the definition of flexibility I expected when I signed my name in the little box 2 years ago. 
The universe throws you for loops, and through hoops, under falling rocks, and over oceans. "It doesn’t get any easier along the way, it just gets different." I had been looking forward to my  April vacation to the US for about 8 months. At the beginning of September, not even 2 months into my service, my nephew Camden Jorge was born and it broke my heart to miss out. I was determined to visit home the first chance I had so I could meet this gentle bundle of joy before he took his first steps. And my niece too; we had countdowns and plans far in advance to bake a cake and have a sleepover. I had 11 days home and every moment was precious. That was the plan. 11 days, 1 family party, 1 sleepover, a trip to Boston, and a lot of pizza and buffalo chicken. I had been dreaming about the damn buffalo chicken… I got to have it many, many more times than I had expected, because instead of a short 11 days, I was home for 8 weeks: 2 weeks of vacation and 6 weeks of medical evacuation…. 
August 17, 2018 
To cut to the point: I was knocked to the ground and stepped on by an elephant. Yup, you read correctly, an elephant. I was traveling alone to a sanctuary and reservation in Modulkiri, a province in northeast Cambodia, for what I hoped would be a peaceful and adventurous retreat before I went back to the states. There were 9, lucky for me, very kind helpful people on our tour and we had just taken a crazy ride in the back of a pick-up into the jungle and met the first two elephants of the five we would see that day. My fear and apprehension in the face of the gentle beasts had worn off in time to meet Lucky, a 72 year old female who likes to live alone across the river from the others. I was the last one to join the tour group when we found her thanks to a young woman dressed more for a picturesque summer pool party than a trek in the Cambodian jungle. Needless to say, she had a little trouble keeping up in her Forever 21 flip-flops and I was stuck behind her for the walk. By the time I arrived, Mr. Tree, the guide and owner of the sanctuary, had already finished his introduction to Lucky, which apparently was very important to hear as this elephant is especially particular about how she is fed. I asked a young French woman who I had spoken with earlier to take a few pictures as I fed Lucky.
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We were in a tight space surrounded by tall grass; the 9 of us just fitting into the nooks and crannies of the paths created by the elephants and their trainers. I stood about a foot from Lucky as I fed her and touched her truck. In the next moment, she turned towards me and rammed the strongest part of her against my chest and neck. My head whipped backwards and I fell to the ground away from her but my lower extremities were still in her reach. The knock to the ground scared me but didn’t hurt just yet. It was the excruciating pain I immediately felt in my right foot. As I shot up, pushing the branches of the bush I fell into out of my way, my thoughts were racing and I expected a bag of bones for a foot. Luckily, (no pun intended) my foot was still in the shape of a foot. From what I could see, my first and fourth toenails had bent all the way back, and my third toe was unmistakably dislocated. I have never had any broken bones before but some sort of instinct kicked in and I fixed what I could; maybe thinking it would help the pain subside. I pushed my toenails back down and popped my dislocated toe back into place. I cringe thinking about it now, even after telling the story hundreds of times. Mr. Tree sat down in front of me and asked if I was okay. "This has happened to four girls before you," he said. Searching for some comic relief, I responded, "Oh, you don’t put that on your website do you?" He didn’t think the comment was so funny. I could tell from his wide-eyed worried face, probably thinking what would happen if I was the next review on TripAdvisor. I winced as he tried to pull all my toes into the right place, just like you do when you might be trying to crack your knuckles. I had to get up and out of the bush and get to some place of comfort. An older Canadian man traveling with his wife helped me to a small clearing. I grabbed my makeshift med kit, which I would later learn, didn’t contain even half of what I needed to care for an actual injury, from my backpack and popped three Peace Corps issued Ibuprofens.  My fellow tourists gave me clean wipes, elevated my foot with their backpacks, and sat by me while I processed the trauma. The Canadian woman sat by me and rubbed my shoulders, breathed with me, and talked me through my fits of sobbing, laughing, and complete and utter disbelief. "What the actual fuck?!" I kept repeating. “How could this happen? How did I just get attacked by an elephant?” I didn’t know it then but, for the next two months family, friends, and strangers would try to answer these hypothetical questions with such wise words, “Well, at least it’s a good story.” I can’t count how many times I’ve heard that one. I sat on a log and waited for a truck from in town to deliver the stretcher I would involuntarily be carried out of the jungle on. Usually, when I'm hurt, I try to act tough, I don’t ask for help, I hold back the tears and carry on. This time, I wanted to do all those things but absolutely could not. I tried to walk and crumbled in the pain and as we sat and waited the adrenaline and shock wore off and the pain only got worse. So, four Khmer men lifted me up and I was dubbed, "Queen of the Jungle."
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We returned to the lodge perched above the jungle and the girl I had asked to take my picture helped tape my toes and as the rest of the tourists continued on with the planned excursions for the day, I sat looking out at the Cambodian canopy skyline all afternoon ruminating over my recent trauma and convincing myself the injury wasn't that bad. At least I had a great view. They don’t do anything for broken toes anyway, right? (wrong) In addition to a hammock for the night, the tour provides a traditional Khmer dinner and rice wine too. I didn’t want to miss out on any of it. I waited till the next morning, said good bye to my helpful, kind fellow adventurers, climbed up a big hill to reach the tuk-tuk and returned to the lodge in town. Cutting my peaceful adventure a few days short, I called PC explained the story and was delivered to the hospital in Phnom Penh, a 6 hour long car ride. 
The doctors in Phnom Penh showed me my X-rays and the breaks, gave me a huge ugly boot, and 3 prescriptions. I couldn’t process how real my injury was, even if it was just broken toes. I would be spending my much treasured time at home in a big boot and on anti-biotics. I was devastated and, aside from the amazing PC Medical Officer, alone in Phnom Penh. I didn’t even tell my family at home. I didn’t want them to worry about me traveling home. And I mostly didn’t want to have to tell my story again and again before I had even processed it myself. I spent the next 3 days in a hotel room ordering delivery, binging netflix, soaking my swollen purple foot in ice cold water, and crying. It sounds dramatic, I know. It could have been much worse, I know. 
I tried to mentally prepare myself for the next 25 hours of traveling, which is something I would, in a normal state, enjoy. Traveling alone gives me a sense of independence and maturity. I like to explore airports, drink bloody marys at whatever time I damn well please, and if I'm in the right mood, talk to some strangers. I had even considered leaving the airport during my layover in Dubai. But this time, I was dreading it; dressed like a bum with swollen, "I've been crying for days," eyes, lugging around bags much too heavy for broken toes, and stuck in a bulky plastic boot. I didn't want a bloody mary, I wanted a hug and my bed. I had to ask for bulkhead seating so I could elevate my foot during the flight and get up and walk often to avoid blood clots. I didn’t think about how hard this might be on a full 16 hour flight from Dubai to Boston sitting in a window seat next to a very nice, but very sleepy, couple. 
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So, I went home for vacation, arrived at the airport with a great story for the family and then did all the things as planned. I finally met my nephew, I had a sleepover with my niece, ate food I had been craving with the people I missed, and on the 8th day home had one little party so I could see my whole family before heading back. I saw a podiatrist the day after to make sure everything was healing correctly. It was healing... but nowhere close to where it needed to be for my main form of transportation to be a bicycle. The doctor said, "Your big toe is in 5 pieces...there is no way you are going back in 3 days. I'll see you in 3 weeks.” My jaw dropped, I hadn't expected this at all. When I was in Cambodia PC had already seen the x-rays and ruled I'd be just fine to come back. Turns out the expert podiatrist thought differently. I called PC. I’d be home for 6 more weeks.
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An extended vacation, you say? Oh! How wonderful! More time to spend with family and friends, more buffalo chicken and quality beer, maybe even a beach day? Great point. The thing is, my partner planned to leave for Cambodia the following week. In the most romantic and wild gesture, he quit his jobs, tied up loose ends and we planned spend the next 3 months in the same country  figuring out if we could make it work after spending the last year on opposite sides of the world trying to move on and failing at it quite miserably. It was a crazy thing to even think about. I had left for Cambodia almost a year ago and now he would be coming too; for us. We had been planning this for months now and we were so close, but the universe doesn’t care about your plans! So now, with flights booked already, he would leave for Cambodia and I'd be home. And we would be on opposite sides of the world, yet again all because of this elephant ironically named, Lucky. If I believed in signs like I say I do… I think this was one for the books. The universe with all its magic and power was pulling us apart once again. Writing this now, 4 months later, I still can't believe it all happened. I'm not sure Hollywood or even the infamous Lifetime could write this story. 
Before I was assigned medical evacuation status, I thought of it quite romantically; that'd be nice… six weeks home. I could use an extended vacation from bucket showers and rice. And it was nice. It was great to have so much extra, unexpected time with family and friends. I was home for mother’s day and my brother’s college graduation (peek my big ugly boot in the pic).  I even fit in a beach day. But I really didn’t expect all the mental and emotional challenges that come along with living in such a state of limbo for 6 weeks, in which I had no control of the outcome. Did I want to return to PC? Yes. Was I completely sure of that answer? No. But was I ready to quit? Hell no. Was it even in my hands? Nope. If I wasn’t healed in 6 weeks, I would be "medically separated," essentially ending my service unless I wanted to apply to return at a later date. If my foot didn’t heal correctly, I would need surgery, which would most definitely exceed my six week limit. The podiatrist explained where he would stick the three metal pins in my big toe if the 5 puzzle pieces weren't agreeing with each other.  I can’t count how many times or how many people, relatives, friends, old bar customers, and strangers, I told my story to. But I can say that my answer to their follow up questions was usually, "I don’t know." I had no clue when I was going back. I had no clue even if I was going back. And while I tried to swim in this state of uncertain limbo, I felt that I really didn’t have a place at "home" anymore. My friends were busy with jobs, boyfriends, and moving on with new cars and apartments. And although time with my family was great, many times my mind reminded me that this is what I was missing out on as I struggled to teach English and drink a gallon of water a day to make up for all the sweating on the other side of the world.  It had been years since I first decided I wanted to join PC, and I was facing the decision again, and it was harder than ever before.  I didn’t expect anyone's life to stop while I went on my big adventure, but I also didn’t expect to feel so lost and out of place when I returned. I loved eating chips and salsa on my couch alone, it was something I had been looking forward to, but I never expected to feel so lonely doing it. Yoga had become my saving grace throughout the past year of ups and downs and with 3 broken toes I couldn't even do that. And other activities I would have found peace in, hiking mountains, dancing, walking through parks, were all impossible for me. I felt the universe was giving me a big middle finger. Self-pity, I know, but that’s how I felt. I had waited almost a year to spend time with my partner again and he was traveling Thailand and Myanmar while I sunk into the couch. For a few weeks I really had no idea how to deal with all of these emotions. They say you are never alone but had this ever happened to anyone else in the history of the world? This crazy, unbelievable story of mine truly started to weigh me down. And having to tell it over and over again only to get the same advice or laughs or looks from each and every person was draining. All of my plans were crumbling in front of me and I had no control over what would happen next.
A long six weeks and several doctor appointments and x-rays later, I received medical clearance just in time. Leaving the second time was much harder than the first. The excitement of the unknown was lost and I knew I was going back to a challenge, one that I wasn’t even sure I wanted to take on again. After three long flights and two treacherous and stressful layovers, one of which if I hadn't been flying the same airline, I would have missed my next flight, I arrived in Phnom Penh close to midnight on June 17th. Two of my closest friends here surprised me at the hotel with a bouquet of freshly picked flowers and a few beers. We stayed up late catching up on the balcony overlooking the city. And just like that, I was back. It is months later now and I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Just last week someone said, "So happy you came back." I had heard that so many times since I returned. This time, I finally replied, "Me too," without the guilt of lying. I am happy I came back. It was a strange transition. It still is. I returned towards the end of the school year with energy and motivation dying down on the parts of both students and teachers. I hadn’t spoken any Khmer in 8 weeks. I felt, and still feel, such a loss of fluency, and more emotionally, a loss of belonging. I went home to America and didn’t belong there. I came back to Cambodia and didn’t belong here either. It was a tough and painful and at times still is, but all in all, home is where you make it; it just takes a lot of effort and time.
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My partner was here for my first five weeks back; we spent our weekends together as planned, finally on the same side of the planet and in the same country. It was wonderful. We visited some of the most beautiful spots in Cambodia. My family here, in addition to welcoming me back after 8 weeks, also made him feel at home as well. It was heartwarming to witness my two worlds meeting. He left at the beginning of August. School vacation began at the same time and now I'm left with a crazy amount of free time which I'm hoping to fill with productive and fulfilling activities. I’ve been getting back into yoga, reading some good books, and prepping some eager 12th graders for their exam. All in all, I guess I’m pretty lucky to be here considering I was attacked by a 6,000 pound beast. So begins part 2 of my service. I am left with the task of jumpstarting my heart and mind to be fully here; committed and happy. 
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Powder Keg - Ch 6
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Welcome back to the adventure we’re all everlarking together! Fallen behind in the story? Here are the previous chapters: Chapter 1 /// Chapter 2 /// Chapter 3 /// Chapter 4  /// Chapter 5
Last week, injured and trapped by a storm, our heroine took refuge with her nemesis in a cave... and found out that their past might not be exactly as she remembers. You voted for her to let down her guard a little and risk her coworkers ridicule by staying snuggled up with Peeta. What happens next? The incredible @javistg continues the story...
I take a deep breath and tell myself it doesn’t really matter who sees me here. I’m trapped in place by Peeta’s jacket, and my leg isn’t cooperating much. Even if I wanted to stand, I probably wouldn’t be able to do it without aggravating my injury.
A moment later, two tall men with identical white and red parkas and matching hazel eyes burst through the cave’s entrance.
“Hey, guys, what’s the problem?” Castor, one of our rescuers, asks.
“It’s her knee,” Peeta answers, unzipping his jacket and setting me free.
Pollux, the second paramedic —who is the spitting image of the first— kneels in front of us and twists me to the side so he can inspect my leg. His gentle fingers press and prod around my knee, feeling for any swelling or broken bones.
The icy wind from the cave envelops me, and I begin to shiver.
Peeta wraps his arms around me once more, and I lean into him trying to soak up as much of his warmth as I can without moving my leg.
“It might be dislocated,” Pollux says, “it’s hard to tell through your clothes, but I don’t want to expose you to the cold too much. I’m just going to wrap it with an ice pack to help with the swelling and immobilize it. We’ll give you a full diagnosis back at the clinic.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I clench my hands into tight fists on my lap to keep from crying. Dislocated! That would mean the end of my winter job. What am I going to do now?
As if hearing my thoughts, Peeta tightens his hold on me burrowing his face into the crook of my neck. The gesture soothes me, and I begin to relax once more.
The two brothers get to work quickly, wrapping a long splint around my leg. When they’re done, Castor offers me his hands and, with a pull, helps me to my feet.
Peeta stands up behind me, quickly grabbing my jacket and draping it over my shoulders. “Alright, you ride with Pollux. Castor and I will take your gear and meet you back at the clinic,” he instructs.
I nod. A part of me wishes Peeta could come with me. Despite everything that’s happened between us, I still trust him to keep me safe, but there’s no point in saying anything, there isn’t enough room in the snow trac for the two of us with my outstretched leg. We’ll go faster if he rides on the snowmobile with Castor.
XXXXX
Sprained ligament. At least 3 weeks rest. The doctor’s words bounce around in my skull.
I bite my lip to keep from screaming.
I took this job because I needed the extra money. I thought it would be an easy, fun way to have a little more for the holidays and maybe even save up for next year. But this injury just put a stop to all that. I don’t need a cast, and I can still move around somewhat, but I won’t be able to ski anymore.
It’s time to face the music, say goodbye to the slopes and hello to the snack bar. Ugh!
I sigh, melting into the mattress of the gurney I’m on, as I wait for the painkillers the doctor gave me to work their magic.
Suddenly, the door swings open and a glowering Gale walks in.
My stomach drops. Despite my best efforts to give my friend a day off, he still ended up here.
“You Ok, Catnip?” he asks, voice surprisingly gentle.
Still too numb to speak, I nod.
“Wait till I get my hands on the little shit,” he mutters through clenched teeth.
My ears perk up. “What are you going on about?”
“Mellark!” he spits. “He should have been watching out for you out there, not endangering you!”
Instinctively, I cross my arms over my chest. I know Gale’s only being protective of me, like an older brother who worries over my wellbeing; but, for some reason, his words rub me the wrong way.
“I’m not a child, Gale!” I snap. “I know how to take care of myself. Peeta didn’t do anything wrong, we were racing downhill, and I got distracted, that’s all.”
He keeps quiet, but I can still see fire raging behind his eyes. “What were you doing out there with him, anyway? I thought you hated his guts.”
“I do,” I say, but there’s a lot less bite to my tone.
I still haven’t had a chance to process my conversation with Peeta, too much has happened in the last few hours, but my head hasn’t stopped spinning, second-guessing the choices I made over the past three years of my life.
I shake my head, Gale doesn’t need to know this. “I was doing my job,” I explain. “We had a group of children earlier in the day, and one of them got lost. Peeta and I were looking for him. When Johanna told us he’d been found we decided to race back down.”
“Are you sure he didn’t push you, or—,”
I raise my hand to make him stop. “Yes, I’m sure. Peeta’s not like that, Gale. He might be a douche who throws himself at anything that moves, but he wouldn’t do anything to endanger me. We’ve gone down those slopes hundreds of times, I know I can trust him when we’re out on the mountain.”
Gale crosses his arms and sets his jaw. I can tell he’s not entirely convinced, but he probably doesn’t want to get into a fight with me just now. I’m lying on a stretcher with a bandaged leg, after all.
Maybe it’s the certainty I feel in the words I just said, or the memory of all those happy days I spent in the snow with Peeta, but the next words fall from my lips before I can stop myself. “Can I ask you something?”
Gale nods.
“Did you ever tell Peeta to leave me alone?”
Gale’s eyes register surprise. I see his shoulders slump as he releases the air from his lungs. “I did,” he admits.
“Why?” I ask, even though I’m pretty sure I know the answer.
He reaches over to brush a gentle finger over my forehead. “You never told me what happened between you two, but you were so… broken, Catnip. I couldn’t stand to see you like that.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, the gesture tender and sweet. “I knew I didn’t have a chance with you, but I couldn’t let him hurt you anymore.”
My chest tightens. No one asked Gale to interfere. If anything, his actions only made my problems worse —Peeta might have been more insistent if Gale hadn’t scared him away— but his heart was in the right place. I can’t really fault him for trying to protect me.
“I thought he was with Bristel,” I quietly admit. I think it’s the first time I’ve actually said the words out loud.
Gale’s jaw drops open. “Back then?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He narrows his eyes. I can see his mind working, quickly sorting through the memories. “Wasn’t her brother like, really sick?”
“Yeah.” I feel like the biggest fool in history. Why didn’t I piece this together back then? How could I just cut Peeta off without giving him a chance to explain? Our romance might have been new, but we had been friends for a long time. We deserved better.
“I thought she was dating Darius,” Gale mutters, still reminiscing about the past.
I shrug, but I know he’s right. Darius was away visiting his family —he always does this time of year— but I’m pretty sure they were already together back then. As far as I know, they still are.  I close my eyes. I don’t want to talk about Bristel anymore.
Gale knows me well enough to take the hint. “Ok,” he starts, completely changing the subject. “I’m going to head out to the main office to talk to Johanna. That teacher is bringing her kids back tomorrow, and we need to figure out who’s going to take care of them. I’ll be back when I’m done to take you home. Is there anything you need?”
I shake my head.
When I open my eyes, I find him looking back at me, gray eyes heavy with worry. “Thanks, Gale,” I say. “I’m sorry you had to come out here on your day off.”
He waves my words away. “Nonsense, Catnip. That’s what friends are for, right? We need to look out for each other.”
XXXXX
The sound of heavy footfalls startles me awake. I open my eyes and turn to find Peeta standing by my side. Blue eyes soft and worried under the fluorescent light.
“Hey!” he says, reaching out to grab my hand. “How do you feel?”
“Fine,” I say, voice hoarse with sleep. “It’s only a sprain, all I need is rest and meds.” Looking around the bare ER, I ask, “Was I asleep very long?”
“I don’t think so. I saw Gale heading out a few minutes ago.”
I frown, sleep doesn’t come easily to me. These meds are powerful stuff.
“I left all your gear next to your cubby,” he explains.
“Thanks. I won’t be needing any of it soon, though,” I grumble.
Peeta’s warm thumb begins tracing soft circles over my hand. “I’m sorry, Katniss.”
I shake my head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was a race. I fell. It happens sometimes.”
“I know,” he says nodding, “but still…”
We stay silent for a moment, his hand moving over mine as he looks at my leg.
He’s pale and tired. I can see the fatigue in his deep blue eyes.
I just want to wrap my arms around him and reassure him, tell him that I’m ok and that everything will be fine.
I don’t know if it’s the medicine making me loopy, or the fact that he’s taken such good care of me since I fell down, but I wrap my free hand over his wrist and squeeze lightly. “I never answered your question,” I whisper.
Startled blue eyes meet mine.
“Back in the cave,” I clarify, “you asked me something.”
It takes him an instant to process what I’m saying, but when he does, he merely nods.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Peeta’s face relaxes into a smile. “You want to be friends?”
“Yeah,” I confirm.
His eyes light up. “Under one condition, though.”
I scowl. I don’t know if he’s in any position to ask for anything.
Undeterred by my reaction, Peeta goes on, “Full honesty this time. That´s all I ask. No more walking away or ignoring each other if we have a problem.” He looks straight at me, pinning me in place with the candor of his request.  “I don’t think I could handle any more misunderstandings,” he adds.
The pain in his words floors me. The truth is that my feelings for Peeta, good and bad, have always been too intense, and I don’t think I could handle something like that either —I’ve barely managed to pull myself together after our fall out three years ago.
My mind screams for me to back away and nip this in the bud, to quit before I end up getting hurt once more, but the rest of me wants to be with Peeta again; to experience the joy I’ve only known when I’m with him.
What should I do? Accept his terms and start a new friendship with him or say no and push him away once and for all.
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Horror-scopes: Arthur Covell and his Savage Stars
The Covell house in Bandon, Oregon was hardly one of peace and harmony. The family consisted of chiropractor Fred Covell, his fourth wife Ebba, his two teenage children from his third marriage, his three young children with Ebba, and his forty-seven-year-old brother Arthur. It was 1923 and the stress level in the house was at new heights. Two of Fred’s children, sixteen-year-old Alton and fourteen-year-old Lucille, were considered mentally disabled and Alton had spent some time in an institution before eventually returning home. His brother Arthur was confined to a bed, paralyzed after being crushed by a truck he was repairing in December 1920.
This situation would be stressful under the best circumstances but adding to the environment was a cloud of sheer contempt that permeated the entire house. Arthur was not an easy person to get along with, regularly fighting with Ebba and referring to his niece and nephew as brats. He rarely left his bedroom, and it was in that space where he brewed and cultivated an all-encompassing obsession with astrology. Within only a few years he successfully turned this obsession into a lucrative source of income, crafting personalized horoscopes and selling them by mail with a client list that included some members of the Hollywood elite.
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Arthur Covell, photograph reprinted in New York Daily News, January 25, 1931.
Surrounded by charts, astrological paraphernalia, and endless books filled with scribbled notes and calculations, the image of Arthur Covell with his dark sunken eyes, stringy hair, and waxy complexion was just as endearing as his personality. Ebba reciprocated easily, openly criticizing her brother-in-law right down to complaining about the amount of food he consumed. Given all of this, Fred may not have been surprised when he received a call at his office on the afternoon of September 3rd, 1923. The real surprise came from the voice on the other end, it was Arthur bearing a simple message, “You better get home here fast, the brats tell me there's something wrong with Ebba."
When Fred returned home the scene was horrible and completely mystifying. Ebba was laying dead on her bed with red marks around her nostrils and neck. When he asked his son Alton what happened he only said “Dunno. I found her lying on the floor in the hall by the telephone when I came in from the barn.” His daughter Lucille also claimed no knowledge, asking him repeatedly what was wrong with Ebba. The only person in the house that seemed unsurprised at Ebba’s sudden death was Arthur, who seemed positively delighted. When Fred entered the room to tell him what happened his response was "She's dead, ain't she, Fred? The kids wouldn't tell me. But the stars did. They always tell. Jupiter and Mars are averse to the sun and Venus. That's a juxtaposition Ebba couldn't take."
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Ebba Covell, photograph reprinted in the Knoxville Journal, January 18, 1948.
The scene of Ebba’s death was odd. There was no obvious cause of death and despite there being numerous people in the house everyone said they had no idea what could have happened to her. There were many questions, but Fred was not willing to give time for them to be answered. Distant and noncommunicative, he quickly signed his wife’s death certificate citing her demise as “natural causes” and moved to get her into the ground as soon as possible. When the police could not actually confirm Fred’s alibi that he was at work the entire day that Ebba died they put a halt on her burial in order to investigate further.
The attempts to piece together the death of Ebba Covell grew increasingly frustrating with each passing day. The children claimed no knowledge of anything amiss in the house and Arthur only rambled about the death being foretold by the stars in a tone that did not hide his delight in her death. Looking for answers, a second autopsy was done and it revealed that while her neck was dislocated, the injury would not have killed her. Finally, it was determined that the death and the strange burns were caused by a cloth soaked in ammonia being pressed up to her face, eventually suffocating her. Ebba’s death was officially a murder, and the police were certain they knew the killer. In their eyes there was no way for the children Alton and Lucille to plan the complicated killing and they wrote off Arthur due to his being bedridden. Clearly, the murder was committed by Fred Covell. A warrant was issued for his arrest and within hours the children were moved away from the home and both Fred and Arthur were taken to the county jail.
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Although officials were certain that they had their culprit securely behind bars there was yet another problem with the case, they did not have the concrete evidence to place the deadly ammonia soaked cloth in Fred’s hand. In search of proof, the Covell’s house was searched. Once inside they found something, but it was not at all what they expected.
At this point it was well known that Arthur Covell was a maniacal astrologer who endlessly ranted about the movement of the stars and how they dictated the paths of the humans below them. When they entered his bedroom and picked up a notebook it seemed at first to be filled with notes of more of the same ramblings, some of which was written in some form of code. But, upon closer inspection the words took a dark turn, talking of various dates and times of death, including that of Ebba Covell. The date was scribbled throughout the book but finally one entry literally spelled it out, “6:20 a.m. Sept 3, Monday. Will Al do his part?" This was followed up with "Sept 3. Eleven a.m. Should have been 11:14.” Ebba’s death was not the only one written out in Covell’s terrifying book. Among the coded messages were mentions of local merchant Ira S. Sidwell who was to "fall down stairs at store. Will have will and other papers in pocket." Then there was a written out tale detailing how the family of local dairy man E.J. Pressy would die in a house fire but "not before you take the doors and windows out of it to be used in my new house." The book detailed the future deaths of twenty-seven prominent citizens of Brandon by every cause imaginable. A discovery of a pile of forged wills with the deceased leaving all of their belongings to Arthur Covell made the astrologer’s book even more sinister. This was not a book of predictions, this was a schedule.  
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An emaciated Arthur Covell laying on a chair outside the Covell home.
When confronted about his book, Arthur only laughed and said he knew they would find it because the stars said they would. When directly questioned about the dates, times, and methods of death laid out for the citizens of Brandon his response was only “I wished things to happen to people. Got any law against wishing?” It was a painfully frustrating situation. Clearly Arthur had information but the chances of his sharing it were slim to none. But, among his astrological hitlist there was one very important name, Al, the one who he hoped would “do his part” in the murder of Ebba. The police headed off to speak to her sixteen-year-old step-son Alton.  
By the time authorities got to Alton, they may have expected just another dead end in the case of Ebba Covell, but this time things went easier than they ever could have expected. Almost immediately Alton began talking, and what he revealed spelled doom not for his father Fred, but for his bedridden uncle Arthur. He told the police that Arthur told him and Lucille to carry out the murder of their step-mother for him, that “Bad things always seemed right when he talked to us. When he said do it we just did anything because it seemed the thing to do.”
His formal statement stated:
“Uncle Arthur told me to buy a 10-cent bottle of ammonia. Then he told me we'd have to kill Ebba because she had learned something he wanted to do and she was going to tell Fred. It was something that would make us all rich and she would spoil his plans. So, she was standing by the telephone when I came in. I put the cloth on her face and held her arms with my left arm around her. It took a long time. I don't know how long. I called Lucille and we got Ebba up on her bed. She was all limp and dead. Lucille threw the bottle down the gully. My uncle told her to. He told us what to say to Dad and the police, so we did. He said he would have a lot more work for me--kidnapping, setting fires, pushing people downstairs. All exciting.”
When confronted about Alton’s confession Lucille immediately confirmed it all. Like her brother, she claimed their uncle had an almost supernatural power over them and they dare not defy him, even when he asked them to kill for him.
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Newspaper article showing Alton Covell.
Arthur scowled when he was told about his niece and nephew’s confession. "The brats are telling the truth. I'd have been master of this county after Alton had killed a few good-for-nothings around here if I'd obeyed the stars. Shouldn't ever have worked up Ebba's horoscope on a day when the heavens were unfriendly to me. Made a simple mistake. Figured the wrong day and hour."
The murder trial of Arthur Covell began on November 5, 1924, but there was very little to go over. All three participants in the murder fully admitted their guilt with Lucille giggling through her entire testimony. With little hesitation the jury handed down the verdict of murder in the first degree with a sentence of death by hanging. On May 22, 1925 the killer astrologer was wheeled to the gallows in a wheelchair with his last horoscope, one he wrote for himself, stuffed into the waistband of his pants. In a horrific twist, when Covell’s body dropped his painfully thin frame did not weigh enough to break his neck and end his life. He hung and slowly strangled to death for twenty-six minutes.
Alton and Lucille’s lives took very different paths after their uncle’s trial. Alton was also tried and convicted of murder, but rather than face the gallows he was instead sent to the state penitentiary. Released in 1932, he led a quiet life before passing away in 2002. Lucille was never tried for the crime and disappears from record soon after the trial.
Upon his agonizing death, Arthur Covell was cremated but his ashes were never claimed. To this day all that remains of the killer astrologer sits in storage at the Oregon State Hospital.
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A Life of Riley Part 1 - The Problem With Grinckles ch 6
Chapter 5
VI
I leaned back and hit Send; the formatting on my Differential Equations homework had finally turned out all correct the third time I'd printed it, so I could send the PDF over to my professor and be done for the day.  Two hours of math and then another two and a half hours beating LaTeX with a rock to do up all the formulas so they looked like something, but I was done all my math for the weekend before five on Saturday. I was golden; plenty of time to eat dinner, see what was good on my groups, then hit up someone's party or go down to the bars on Sperry Street and try to hook up.  I still had a couple microwaves problems that needed tightening up, but I could handle those tomorrow; tonight was tonight, and tonight was all mine.
As I logged out of the lab terminal and stood up, I saw Sajitha waving at me through the glass out in the corridor.  I waved back, unconcerned, but she was still there in the same place after I made my way out, dropping the test prints into the recycling bucket.  "Hey, Saj," I said by way of trying to figure out what was going on, "what's up? Are you looking for me for something?"
She shook her head, still falling in next to me as I walked down the hall.  "Kind of," she said, "but not really.  Are you going over to the lab?"
I shook my head. "No, I don't have anything to do over there tonight.  I was just going to go grab dinner, probably at the Zussman caf, and see where it was going off tonight.  You?"
"The caf? Under Zussman?  Are you into the shredded green-bean sludge they put on everything or something?  Don't you live like just the other side of the parking lot behind the ChemE lab barn?  Why the caf when it's that close to go home?  Did you just forget to buy food or something?"
"No, I am kinda running low," I said, "but you don't have to eat the green-bean casserole slurry they give you if you don't want to, and actually mostly I'm trying to avoid this chick Laura from the complex; if I go home and do some ramen she'll be sniffing around to 'pregame' with her friends, and then we'll end up getting blasted and hook up while they go out.  Normally I wouldn't mind, but I'm feeling good and I actually want to do something tonight, not just get drunk watching TV and have bad vodka sex.  I mean, it's been a good day, and I got a feeling it's going to be a good night – how about I bag the caf, and we go down and tear it up at the Scottsdale till we score or get kicked out?"
"I want to go out," she said, stepping up right in next to me, "but I have something that I have to finish drawing out for Riley – some kind of stupid STOVL wing part – and I was hoping that you were going that way so I could ask you to walk me across the quad; there's some weird protest there tonight and I've been hearing bad things about it."
"Some kind of wack protest?" I said, turning to look her over critically.  "Bad shit?  What the hell is it?  The Black Bloc? Frog nazis?  And you want me to walk you over?  Saj, you'd be beating them up for me. Why not text Remy?"
Sajitha rolled her eyes and sighed a mighty sigh.  "First, Remy has a meet against Tech this weekend, so he's in Grabau Green getting kicked in the face.  And second, even if he was around, I wouldn't want to encourage him."  I wisely refrained from commenting about how she knew a hell of a lot about his schedule, for a dude that she didn't want to encourage interest in.  "And I know I can take care of myself; it's just for insurance.  I don't think it's frog nazis, but if it is, I want to just go to the lab, and not to jail because I shoved some CompEng incel weeaboo's tiki torch so far up his ass it knocked his teeth out.  They won't start if I'm not alone."
I nodded.  "Okay, okay.  I get you, and it's not that far out of the way.  No problem." I stuck my hands in my pockets, maybe unconsciously imitating Remy's fighter's strut.  "And if there's really a protest that's going to turn bad, I'm kind of curious about it – I don't think I've ever seen a riot in real life."
Sajitha shuddered.  "Yeah, that's a good thing.  You really don't want to, trust me.  But this one, it's probably not going to be a real riot, people throwing bricks at the cops shooting rubber bullets and stuff.  It's not that kind of protest – not political, no counterprotest at least that I've heard about, just talk that it would get taken over for a prank."  I could tell she was shaken up about the possibility of a riot, because she didn't even glare at me as I held the door open ahead of her.
"A prank?" I asked.  "Who the hell takes over a protest as a prank?  What the heck kind of protest even lets itself in for something like that?  Are you sure you're getting accurate information?"
Sajitha took a deep breath as we left the library path onto the main road over towards the engineering quad.  "A protest put up by amateurs who don't know how to read people who pretend to offer help. Listen, I haven't told a lot of people about this, but back freshman year I rushed one of the desi sororities for like thirty seconds, just so that I could show my parents that it wasn't ever going to happen, and I still talk to a couple of the girls who did make it in. Someone working in the admin office like Tuesday saw an application for a protest from some Anti-Grinckle Askari thing that didn't exist two weeks ago, Comic Sans and formal, non-native English, and they approved it as a joke – and told their frat buddies, who told all their other frat buddies, and now it's like all around the frats that they're going to show up and take over this protest, and with everyone drunk off their ass after that football game, if it even happens it's not going to go well.  It's probably not going to go Nazi, but how do you even tell these days – and I spend too much time around the AP lab to not just keep thinking about how much worse things could get than my worst-case scenario."
I was thinking.  "Grinckles again – and askari, that's Swahili, for like 'soldier' or 'army'.  He might have gotten other people to help him, but this smells like Wilson; he told us he was going to get rid of the grinckles his way, and that we should stay out of the way, but if he's getting taken for a ride by a bunch of frat bros, I'd want to get him out of there, get him back to his senses before he gets blamed for their shit and expelled or something.  Those white-cap wastoids can just have Daddy write another full-freight check to Tech or some other school if they get kicked out, but if Wilson loses his scholarship here, that's the end: no degree, no medical boards, and he has to go back to his village and, no lie no racism, live in a house made out of mud and sticks.  Seriously; I've seen his pictures from home. We haven't spoken since that thing two weeks ago, but no way I'm going to let that happen to him."
Sajitha nodded, sticking close as we came up on the quad.  "I know.  I hope it's not – but if it is, then I guess we've got to; do you think I should maybe ping Riley and see if we can't get the rest of the lab to help?"
I turned in place; there was the start of a crowd ahead – thank god no tiki torches, and the haircuts weren't quite shitty enough for a high Nazi turnout – and I had to get this straightened out before we got any closer, up where more people might hear us.  "Not now – not right now and not except as a last resort, if everything goes completely to shit and we can't do anything.  You call for help from the lab, and Riley's going to roll up here with that cannon again, and half the dislocator rigged up as an area-denial energy weapon, and things are just going to get worse.  If we can just put a bag over Wilson's head and kick a couple bros in the stomach and get away like that, we'll do it that way, the easy and sane way, and not make this dumb rally a case for the FBI."  Sajitha nodded her agreement, and I turned back, to start leading us through the crowd of white dudes in khakis and polo shirts towards where we'd be able to do something for Wilson if he was mixed up in this.
There sure did seem to be a lot of white people here, a lot more than you got around the engineering quad generally, or at any protest that wasn't going to start heiling at you.  And while they still didn't look like Nazis, they didn't smell like the safe kind of white protestors; alcohol and meathead body spray, not patchouli oil and weed.  This was a "protest" of mostly frat bros, drunk up to their eyeballs, in it for the lulz – and you had to be real dumb to give Wilson more than a snowball's chance in this kind of crowd, especially if the cops flipped out and shit got real. There was some kind of stage set up on the steps of Dittmarsch Hall, some kind of PA set up there, and I sidled through towards it, trying to make out what was going on and also not knock over anyone's beer and start a riot before we could figure out what the hell was supposed to be happening.
There was a scree and a hiss and a squelch from the speakers up front; some idiot not knowing how to microphone, and then the confirmation for everyone who hadn't done A/V crap in high school:  "Yo dudes, y'all ready to get LIT? Are you ready to fight tha power?  Ready or not, comin' straight atcha – himself, the generalissimo, El commandante, HNIC of the AGA – come on and give it up!  Stand up, set up, get up for the Fearless – uuuurp – Leader, Eddy Wannafunzi!"  I could see the speaker gesturing now, gesturing at someone over at the side of the steps who probably was justifiably nervous about following that brain-dead, peripherally racist attempt at a hype intro.  "Get up!  Get up!  Make some noise!  Fuck the cops!"  The bros around us burst out cheering and wooting, and whoever it was hanging about getting introduced up front decided that was good enough and started to come out, the streetlights glinting off a galaxy of medals on a crazy costume-shop uniform with the brushes on the shoulders, a peaked cap so high it looked like it had been cut right out of a political cartoon.
"Good," Sajitha murmured, pressed into my back.  "It's not Wilson up there – it's not him; it's another name and there's no way he'd lose all his self-respect and go outside in a uniform like that.  Can we go now?  This rally's going to get real stupid if that's how it starts, and someone's going to get hurt."
"No," I said, craning around to see past some idiot in a white baseball hat from a pro lacrosse team, "no, that's definitely Wilson.  The name is super fake and I don't know where he got the uniform from, but that's definitely his glasses.  Go ahead and text Riley – this is about to officially get so bad that the Applied Physics lab can't make it worse."  As if on cue, a megaphone crackled to life, and Wilson's voice gruddered out over the assembled throng – crumpled up and distorted and maybe he was trying to put on a different accent, but Wilson always and all the same.
"Comrades!" he shouted, "Comrades – comrades one and all!  We are the same – we want the same thing!  We will stop the invasion – we will stop the violation against nature!  We will act – we will act united – we will act united right now!  We will kill them – we will kill all of them – we will kill all the red fish!  We can't stop – we can't even leave one alive.  Now!  Up!  Commit yourselves!  Swear it!  Hate!  Hate!  Kill!"
"Man, it's a good thing he's got his fist closed, holding it up like that, or I'd think we were really in bizarro world," I said, shoving some drunk bro out of the way so Sajitha could nudge past.  "I give it about fifteen seconds until someone yells a racial slur and the police come in with clubs – no idea how he's still talking up there."  The crowd was roiling around us, yelling incoherently at the challenge lines, occasionally making sense, but a bad kind of sense: "Yeah!  Kill!  Fuck!  Get'em!  Fuck the cops!  Revenge!" Wilson was talking about grinckles up on the stage, in a way that would whip up his audience before they realized that he was talking about fish, but down here, nobody was hearing anything about fish at all.
"Yeah! Hell yeah!  That's it!  Fight the power!"  The hype man, whoever he was, was back, and Wilson was looking confused that he was getting upstaged, that his anti-grinckle rally was getting co-opted into an anti-something else rally.  "You heard the man – you heard the man – we got to get'em – we got to get the reds!  The fish are the end of the wedge – the fish are the tip of the iceberg; you know what we need to do.  We got to get all the ching chong fish, get all the ching chong cops, get all of them, we show them who's boss!  Fight the power!  Fuck the cops!  Get the chingchongs!"  I almost stopped for a moment as the crowd exploded – the cops must be charging from some side or another, the explicit race riot incitement the last straw – trying to figure out just how and why in the hell this had suddenly turned into a riot against Asians, and then Sajitha shoved me forward.
"RIOT!!!" someone bellowed too close, and the crowd turned into a moshpit, and I was getting rammed forward like the prow of an icebreaker, Sajitha's shoulder in my back.  Dudes were punching other dudes, going flying past and above and around us, randoms screaming, and it was all I could do to defend myself.  "I hope you like your riot now," she said, still shoving, "because this is going to feel like makeouts from a starstuck freshman next to what's going to happen in a moment.  Please, help shove, so we can get to your stupid, stupid friend before they open up with tear gas."  "GAS GAS GAS!" someone screamed, either because they heard her wrong or because someone had actually gotten a whiff of pepper spray, and the riot turned into a stampede.
With more of the bros running and fewer of them fighting us, it got easier to push forward, enough to get close enough to see Wilson arguing with his hype man – close enough to see him catch a slap on the ear that unbalanced him and pitched him a nasty fall down the stairs.  I forgot Sajitha, forgot the butthole who'd just punched him in the head, and dove over to make sure he was all right – still breathing, no blood like a fracture, but his eyes were rolled back like he was concussed.  "Wilson!  Wilson!  Say something!"
"Mic DROOOOOP!" yelled the hype man from a few steps up, following it up by dropping the hot mic into a scrultching cacophony of electronic noise as it bashed itself off the steps towards me.  "You got tha powaaa!  You got to get up! You got to kill all tha dam ching-chong!"  The shithead was wearing Wilson's idiot cap and doing an accent that was probably trying to be Nigerian based on a racist comedian who'd only ever heard it second-hand, and was the shit goddamn last absolute thing we needed.  He lowered the megaphone, wavering as he looked us over, staring up and down Sajitha's figure; "Hey, baby," he said, super-obviously drunk, "what up?  You wanna slammalama-ding-dong?"  He swung his hips and leered, oblivious to the full-scale riot raging around us.
"Oh yeah," Sajitha said, slipping her right hand into her handbag, "I definitely wanna smash." She took a step forward, wiggling her shoulders to distract him, and then punched him so hard with the brass knuckles around her right fist that I saw a shower of teeth and maybe jawbone chips go flying the other way.  The hype man went down in a heap, and there was no sign of anyone stupid or brave or interested enough to avenge him anywhere close.
"How is he?"  Sajitha dropped down beside me as I tried to cradle Wilson's head, keep his feet elevated, so that at least he wouldn't get any worse and it would be obvious, if the cops broke through here, that he was a victim and not a perp.
"He's hurt bad," I said, "he went down the stairs bad and I guess he hit his head – I dunno if he's conscious yet.  Where's the help? Where's the lab?  Shit, I'd be glad to see them roll up with that goddamned cannon again, things are so bad."
"Riley's sending Carolína to get us with the truck," Sajitha answered, ripping the more obvious medals off Wilson's uniform in case someone had made him as an Idi Amin cosplayer.  "I didn't hear anything about a cannon, but you never know." Behind us, there was a squeal of tires, the roar of an engine, and then the shouts and screams of a bunch of panicked frat bros as Carolína's beat-up black Bronco skidded sideways through them to come to a stop at the foot of the stairs.  I didn't think you even could drift a Ford Bronco – that must have been something that they worked on when they put the engine back on its mounts after the cannon thing.
The passenger door popped open as if from a kick, but it wasn't Carolína hunched up so she could barely see over the wheel in the driver's seat – that was Yuping's black brush, tall and rigid way up near the roof.  The plan had changed since Sajitha got her text, obviously, but he was still a friend and we had to get while the getting was good.  I threw Wilson's arm over my shoulders to carry him over to the truck, and Sajitha rushed ahead to open the rear door and get us all bundled in.
The crowd was starting to close up around us by the time she closed the passenger door behind her and Yuping put the Bronco in gear again – a few of them maybe noticing that he was one of the ones they were supposed to hate.  "So what happened?  Is Carolína okay?"  Sajitha didn't look that concerned, but if the plan was changed now, there might be other changes later.
"She okay," Yuping said, "Riley just change driver last minute. 'Colombian learn drive too nice,' Riley say, 'because consequences. But Chinese don't take prisoner.'"  Yuping set the shifter, left hand holding the wheel in hard, then stomped on the gas, scattering frat bros like leaves before the whirlwind.  It wasn't strictly accurate – Yuping hadn't been one of those princelings immune to the laws back in China, but then again I was pretty sure that Colombians didn't actually settle every traffic argument with gunplay either – but if it got him to move like this it was good enough.  Protestors and cops alike jumped out of our way as he gunned the engine, accelerating over the footpaths to go and find a road; if he was going to drive like this, we didn't need the autocannon to get away.
Yuping parked by the loading dock behind the building that housed the AP lab after a bunch of twists and turns and ducks to make sure we'd shed all the cops, and I handed off Wilson's incriminating uniform jacket to Sajitha to throw in a dumpster while Yuping and I carried him up the stairs.  Up in the lab, Carolína had hugs and ajiaco and aguardiente for everyone and enough cardboard and spare cushions on the floor to let Wilson rest easy; Riley, by contrast, was completely occupied torch-cutting something and barely looked up as we came in.
"I don't get it, though," I said, after we'd gotten him comfortable; Wilson was stirring a little, but  it was better to let him come back to himself on his own terms, with as much chicken-potato stew and sugarcane whiskey as that would involve.  "I mean, what the shit?  Who the hell is mad about Asians in this day and age?  I mean, shit, 'ching-chong', who even says that?"
"It was kind of a bad day for them, you know," Carolína said, like she was taking part in a different conversation.  "If they didn't have Roosevelt Kang in their fantasy, it was very bad – he went off, he threw four touchdowns and ran in a fifth on a naked bootleg very late, like he was rubbing it in."
I blinked, because I wasn't sure what Wisconsin's half-Korean quarterback had to do with anything.  "Okay, yeah, that's a good day for Kang, and if the dude you were playing started him, then yeah, you got killed, but there was a lot of bros there – they couldn't all have been playing against him this week."  Sajitha and Carolína and Yuping all stared at me after that, and even Riley turned around, torch laid aside.
"Leo, we played Wisconsin today," Sajitha said at last, slowly like she couldn't believe someone was this dumb.  "At home.  We lost 45-nothing.  Roosevelt Kang squatted down and teabagged the entire campus, or at least all the people who care too much about football. Do you get it now?"  I started to get it – angry drunks who'd just gotten humiliated in their own stadium; white people, mostly, who'd seen some Asian-looking dude go yard on them at football.  It was easier to understand, but that didn't make the riot any less stupid.
"All right," I said, "I kind of get it – I can understand it, but I can't excuse it.  And shit, Wilson, what were you thinking?  I can't excuse that, getting up in front of a bunch of drunk, short-fuse white people and talking like that.  You hang around with me too much, man – you forget how like nearly all the other white people around here are."  I felt kind bad about rolling it downhill onto Wilson, blinking on the cushion pile with Carolína holding a bag of peas to the lump on his head, but he was conscious again and it really did go down to him: he didn't have to have this rally, but he did it, and one way or another everything went from there.
"I had to," he said, his voice soft and rounded at the edges, like he was half-dreaming, half-there.  "I had to – if you don't get them screaming, they just sit and scratch.  And I have to get them screaming – you didn't see, I didn't send you profile after it finished.  This 'grinckle', this thing – didn't it come from here?  This lab? The genetics is all wrong – it's all wrong backwards, it's so wrong that if I took a different course last semester, more genetic cladistics, I maybe might say it's not a fish.  What the hell?  Who makes a fish that's not a fish, then puts it on campus to walk by crutches pond to pond?  Nobody – but when it happens – only Applied Physics."
"Wilson, I – yeah, I kind of get where you're coming from.  But – why? What the hell's that supposed to get anybody?"
He shook his head, wincing from the bruise.  "I don't know.  I don't think, maybe, I can ever find out.  But there's no why – nobody else can, so when it happens, it's Applied Physics must have."
"I appreciate the vote of confidence," Riley said from the corner, "but just so you know, the grinckles aren't our fish.  I've got my hands full with enough crap as it is – we're not gene-printing random new fish to get Yuping more likes.  Speaking of," – and Riley changed the subject, exactly like Riley always changed the subject, and like always this was a change for the worse that we'd all have been better off if it didn't have to happen – "Leo, don't you live in Muttonbird Terraces?"
I blinked again, afraid of what was about to come next.  "Yes. Yeah, I do.  Why?"
"You're trending local."  I immediately grabbed up my phone and punched in on the tag; everyone around me was doing the same.  Lol fire at Muttonbird – lol fratboys burning down Muttonbird – i'm live right now yall gotta see this cops shooting at houses on fire at Muttonbird – lol Muttonbird such poors many molotov.  I slumped forward.  Perfect.  The idiot frats had gotten run off the eng quad and now they were burning down my home development and fighting the cops in the ruins.  The phone buzzed, and someone was livestreaming: a cop car was rolled over, on fire against a backdrop of low-rises on fire, white-hatted assholes jumping around, shaking up and throwing beer cans like grenades, as my entire neighborhood went up in smoke.  I looked up, and I had become the lab's pity sink; even Wilson, a glass of aguardiente under his nose to sniff himself awake, was looking at me like I was a street dog begging for pats.
"Well, yeah, you're not going to be able to go home for a while after that – if there's even anywhere to go back to."  Riley cut to the chase like usual, standing up, hands on hips.  "But you're a friend of the lab, and there's always a place here for you, same as for your friend if he wants to hide out here till the heat goes down.  Sit tight for a second; I'll send Yuping out to go grab some extra cardboard, and I'll kick clear a place under the lathe in a minute or two."   Riley nodded approvingly at me, and nobody else in the lab thought there was anything wrong with it.  Excellent.  What an awesome Saturday night.  I'd made some mistakes today, but this was the dead-ass all end: a nice promising weekend with the homework all done turning into one of my best friends mauled in a riot, my place burned down, and me ending up living sleeping on the floor in the friggin Applied Physics lab was all anyone ought to need to convince themselves that no matter how bad they thought their worst-case scenario was, it could always get worse.  A lot worse.  A whole lot worse, if Riley and this crazy lab somehow happened to get involved.
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Dating while chronically ill...
There is an aspect of living with chronic illness that is often not discussed: dating and romantic relationships. We all know that maintaining romantic relationships is hard enough when you are a well or able bodied person, but imagine how much more difficult it gets when you are consistently fighting a battle day in and day out?
I haven’t been in a serious relationship in years (almost 4 years to be exact). My last boyfriend conveniently left just as my health issues began to surmount—I had to have emergency surgery to remove an ovary, tube and mass in my pelvis and as I woke up from anesthesia not only were some of my organs gone, but so was my boyfriend. Crazy right? Since then, my health has declined and my life is very different and I am not an average 32 year old. Most of my time is spent in doctor’s offices, having tests and procedures done, getting labs done consistently, or even just recovering from existing because my body is tired from fighting itself all day long. When I come home from a long day, I often just want to relax and nap, and coming back out the house for dinner during the week or staying up late is just not something I do because I just physically can’t. Of course, this limits how I meet people and grow relationships. I have had many a potential suitor get very frustrated because I decline going out at 7pm on a weeknight or that I have had to reschedule because I have had a long day at work and body can literally do no more.
So because I don’t go out as often as I used to, I have tried a myriad of ways to meet guys and needless to say, it hasn’t worked out for various reasons. I often try to avoid bringing up my chronic illness for a while and just be a human, but many men just fall short. Now, if I am lucky to find one who can make the cut to getting my number, I often go back and forth about how forthcoming I should be about my health. Do I tell right away so they know what they are dealing with or do I try to hide it for months and pray that when I do reveal they are accepting? Well, I have tried it both ways and have had mixed reactions. But one thing that is consistent in response is this: after the initial ‘ aw man, that really sucks you deal with so much. You are really strong for going through all of this’ things then get interesting. If I start feeling comfortable and get honest with that person about how I feel and my highs and lows, they begin to withdraw or question things A LOT. For example, I get asked why are you so tired all the time? Or you have to cancel again? Or you aren’t feeling good again? Or you are still on bedrest? Or there is just a general pulling away and lack of concern and I end up spending more time by myself than with that person. I have often said that it will take a special type of person to step in and be okay with my conditions and be supportive and understand that I literally take each day as it comes. My symptoms vary and so do my methods of treating them, and part of my treatment is keeping my appointments, eating a certain way, resting, embracing alternative methods of healing in order to keep me going. But somedays, no matter if I did everything right, I will have a flare and my body will need to rest, so that means no going out for me. But that also would give a potential mate the opportunity to be creative in the moments when I can’t go out. However, that never, ever happens… instead they run away because it is easier.
Something else that complicates this is if I get an acute illness. We all know that acute illness complicates chronic illness and can send things on a whirlwind. Recently, I contracted pneumonia, which put my autoimmune disease, asthma and heart condition into a bad flare. As soon as I got the pneumonia cleared up, I got a double sinus infection, double ear infection, pharyngitis and kidney infection, which of course the stress on my body from that infection kept me in a flare. I was extra fatigued and in more pain. My migraines also kicked up, more than likely from stress and the fact that while all of this was going on it was 100+ degrees out… not the best environment for someone like me who is a chronic illness sufferer. And just when I thought I had gotten all the infection out and my body was returning to its normal, I started feeling really weird again and sick. I ended up at the ER for a 3rd time in a month. I wasn’t moving air very well, my heart was acting up and I just felt bad. My labs came back all over the place, my kidneys were working way too hard to keep up with everything and I had a lot of inflammation in my lungs, as well as the lining of my ribcage. I had quite a lengthy stay at the ER getting mass fluids pushed to try to help my kidneys, have infusions to reduce inflammation and also doing breathing treatments to open my lungs up. I also was coughing so much I dislocated a rib and strained some chest muscles, so I had to be watched closely. I was finally stable enough to go home  after about 6 hours.
I followed up with my primary care doctor after this latest episode and she was very concerned. I didn’t look or sound too good, so she ordered me on bedrest for a week and to do my breathing treatments every 4 hours religiously. So I mentioned all of this to a potential gentleman suitor and at first he was all “awe hun I am so sorry. Rest up and I will check on you later.” Fast forward several days we were talking and he asks if I have any exciting plans for the weekend and told him no, I am still on bedrest. His response was “still? I thought you would be over everything by now.” I couldn’t even answer right away. I actually had to think and pray about my response. I ultimately told him that one day of bed rest doesn’t fix everything and I was really bad off this time, so it is going to take me a while to recover. Also, I am by myself so I am not truly on bed rest because I have to keep getting up in order to fix myself food or refresh my drinks. Now, if you would like to come keep me company and help me stay in bed, I would appreciate it. I may heal faster. He had no response after that. Unfortunately this is a common conversation and many of my potential relationships end after conversations like this because that is when most really realize what all I deal with and that my life really is complicated and that  this is not for the faint at heart. I am not saying being chronically ill makes a needier partner. If anything, it makes me more independent because I have learned to do for myself and by myself, as well as value and cherish the little things in life. It also makes me loyal, because I have not the strength nor the energy to deal with foolishness and since I do spend so much time at home or on bedrest, it allows me to be attentive to that person and really be dedicated. However, many do not see it that way. All they can see is are diagnoses or what I am not able to do.  They don’t see the opportunity to get creative with things to accommodate my flare days or restrictions.
Since I have had many epic fails in dating, in order to not waste my time or anyone else’s I always try to be forthcoming with my conditions and be detailed so they can choose if it is something they can handle or not. I also tell them I am not looking for them to be the caregiver off the bat or be my knight in shining armor, but I am doing it so you know what you are getting. If while we are getting to know each other and you feel compelled to come to an appointment, come keep me company while I am on bedrest, bring me food or any of these things that seem caring and supportive, that is on you, especially in the beginning. I don’t have the expectation that you would do these things from the jump, especially because it takes time to build trust and respect on both ends. Now, I will say that being kind and practicing acts of service is amazing to me because that is my primary love language, but as I said before, I would expect this over time.
The hard part with all of this is finding someone who will accept this painful ( literally painful) side of you that is innately part of your being, but also who will still respect you as a person and support you when you need it. I also need someone who doesn’t need to be raised, more or less because I have enough within myself to take care of that raising a grown man would only add stress to me, versus alleviating my stress.
I know that the perfect man who understands my situation is out there. I also know that being patient with myself and the process is key in making it through this journey. Until then, I will be thankful for my current support system and hope that maybe one of them will lead me to that right person!
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Congratulations Karia! You have been accepted as Temperance (FC: Lee Sung Kyung)
We really loved your app for Temperance! Yuna’s background is so beautifully fleshed out and fascinating, and we think she’ll make a great addition to the group! We can’t wait to see how you expand on her story! Make sure to follow the checklist and send us your account within 48 hours! WELCOME TO THE ARCANA RING, KARIA. WE HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR STAY.
Out Of Character Information
Name: Karia
Pronouns: she/her pls
Age: 25
In Character Information
Skeleton Applying for: Temperance
Faceclaim: Lee Sung Kyung ( I don’t have any other choices, apologies )
Character’s Full Name: Yu Na Jou ( she goes by Yuna, feels that it’s easier for people. )
Age: 26
Gender and Sexuality: cisfemale ; bisexual/romantic
Character Bio: ( this got a little long, hope y’all don’t mind! )
(TW: Violence)
The breeze through her hair, the sun on her skin, the freshest fruits on her tongue at a moment’s notice. Yuna had an upbringing most people would wish for. She grew up in Busan, South Korea, living on the coast with a few miles of private beach at her fingertips. Her mother was your typical South Korean woman, playing housewife & child rearer to her & her two sisters. Her father was a real-estate tycoon, owning most of the land that was Gwangalli Beach. It’s not very hard to see how this kept them in a very comfortable lifestyle, & the five of them never really wanted for much. Her two sisters were much younger than her, having only been born when she was 18, & they kept her Mother busy most of the time, leaving Yuna up to her own devices. Not that she ever got into any trouble. Her parents had raised her properly, ensuring she received a good education, knew her manners, & never let the fortunate circumstance of her life go to her head.  She had a good head on her shoulders & managed to stay humble, even with the multiple zero’s her credit card had access to.
She graduated from school right on time, a year early at seventeen. Perfect grades, the head of a few social clubs, heavily involved in the choir. She was sent off to Seoul National University, her father sparing no expense, to earn her undergraduate degree in business management. Everything when entirely according to the plan, which Yuna was more than content in following. She understood that some people may be bitter, if their father’s were to have their life laid on a timeline, but she never felt that way. He had provided so much for his family, & she felt it was only fair for her to abandon dreams of being a songstress to help him run his business. If she could return the favor when it was time to provide for him, she would complete her duty as a good daughter, & she couldn’t wish for anything more than that.
Yuna returned home to Busan at 22, & her father hadn’t missed a beat. Within a week of being home, she was introduced to his few employees & brought into business meetings. She was meant to oversee his finances, to take on the role of accountant & ensure all of the numbers added up correctly. It was easy enough, her studying made her over-qualified for the job, but it wasn’t necessary to bother her father with the small things. Things ran smoothly for the next three & a half years, & while Yuna’s own dreams were pushed to the side, she kept her shoulders back, & a head full of happy thoughts. She was doing a good thing, & that was enough to keep her smiling.
She had no idea how fast it could all change.
The setting was entirely typical, the sun setting in the distance, the oranges & reds falling over the city as the neon lights flickered on. It took her an hour of subway rides & walking get home, & by the end of her journey the stars competed with the street lights to light up the boardwalk down the beach.
She’d always known Busan could be unsafe, she’d just seldom seen it with her own eyes. Yuna always looked down & away, always kept her nose to herself & minded her own, just as she’d been taught. That was safe, what you didn’t see couldn’t come back to bite you later. But this time, brown eyes couldn’t look away. The language that was being shouted in is what drew her attention, & she instantly recognized it as Chinese. Two men in black fighting in a parking lot, the scuffle went on for minutes until one of them pulled out a gun. Yuna watched wide eyed, frozen mid-step on the sidewalk twenty feet away. The gun was loud, her gasp was soft, but somehow he’d heard. The look on his face as he rose to come her way told her they wouldn’t be talking, & that she might end up like the other man, face down on the asphalt. So she did the only thing she could, & ran.
He followed her home, but bodyguards she used to pretend her father didn’t have got to him before he got to her. She made it home free of harm, & only talked about it when her father asked. A week went by & there was nothing, so Yuna came down from the panic that had settled in her bones, & was sure that life had returned to normal for good. & of course, the very next day after having the thought, the gods decided to prove her wrong.
Her home was robbed. Entirely sacked, everything broken & in pieces. Her father increased security, saying that he’d die before he picked up & moved. But it didn’t do anything to deter the harassment. It escalated from the robbery to their boardwalk being torched, her father’s office being shot at. Ten days after their home was invaded Yuna received a death threat from an unknown number on her work phone. She became more anxious & paranoid as the hours ticked by - she didn’t even know what she’d seen, other than one man shooting another. Why were they after her in this way? Why did it matter so much? She wouldn’t say a thing, why couldn’t they just leave her be? The next day she was attacked on the subway after her guards lost sight of her, & thought she’d fought the man off, she came out with a bloody nose, a black eye, & a dislocated wrist from punching too hard. She didn’t deserve this, & she couldn’t just sit there & take it.
The attack seemed to be the last straw. Her father didn’t waste a moment in forcing her to board a plane to Paris. He had an old friend there that was willing to put her up for a few weeks while things settled down. She would be able to work remotely from her laptop there, & her father said to look at as a vacation. While that was impossible for her, she nodded & went. Even if she was being sent away, at least her torment would end.
& it did… for awhile. Yuna only got two weeks of reprieve, before she came home to her father’s friend’s flat to find him in a pool of his own blood. Again, she ran. Right out of the apartment, right out of that neighborhood, right away from anyone who knew her face. She didn’t understand what she’d gotten tangled up in, but she could see clearly that they wouldn’t stop. No one else could get hurt because of her. She didn’t call her father, she stopped using her credit cards, & for the first time in her life, she was left entirely to her own devices, she had to survive on her own.
It hadn’t been easy. She’d gone hungry, barely kept herself clean & presentable, struggled for weeks to find anyone that would even speak with her, let alone give her some sort of employment. It’d been seven months since her life had taken a turn for the worst, & Yuna had started to lose hope that she’d ever be able to get back to the way she was, the person that she was. But one day luck smiled on her & she ended up shivering outside the right bar at the right time, & she couldn’t believe that something in life actually lined up in her favor. A lovely woman took pity on her on that cold, rainy day, & her life changed forever. She traded in pencil skirts for a vet & dress, traded modest heels in for stunner shoes. That degree she earned in business management sat collecting dust as she bartended for those in the Arcana. It was mind blowing to look back on the road that brought her here, but she couldn’t spend time worrying about that now. Her peaceful disposition & her natural kindness had unfortunately dubbed her something of a peacekeeper, & with this crowd… it was one hell of a task.
Extra: Just wanted to say: I re-read the bio I just wrote… & I understand that Random Attack & the things that follow seem Random, but sometimes things in life happen that way, & we never learn why. Yuna is simply a victim of that circumstance. I am building a pinterest board for her, it’s small now but it is growing. Here are some headcanons too! 1, Despite her transition into this new world, she still maintains her original personality. Sweet, kind, always trying to see the best in people. Though now, she’s a little less optimistic. A little more willing to believe that people can be terrible & do terrible things. She’s learning what to look for, what to listen for, all still while wearing a smile. 2, Yuna misses her family terribly, but she still thinks it’s best to keep them out of the picture. The Ring keeps her safe because she’s here in Paris, but she can’t expect that to extend all the way to South Korea. She’s also confident that now she’s out of the picture, her family is being left alone. 3, She misses the nature she used to be exposed to, especially the flowers. She keeps what blooming plants she can in her apartment, just to have a way to be close to home. 4, She doesn’t like to fight, & is all about de-escalation, but if it comes down to it, she will defend herself. She’s taken a few self defense classes, & has learned how to properly fight off an attacker without harming herself. 5, She has a black cat named Mew. The Ring does keep her safe, but they can’t keep away the loneliness. Mew helps. 6, Yuna is extremely meticulous about her appearance & hygiene. She doesn’t ever look worse for wear, or like she just rolled out of bed.
I reaaaaallly like this role play & I really hope to get accepted! You guys have done such a beautiful job with this, major props! :)
Anything Else: Nooope! I see that connections have been changed around a bit, but I’m willing to stick with what she’s got. Especially her connection with The Empress. I imagine Yuna’s transferred the worship she used to devote to her father, to her.
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susanlongman1995 · 4 years
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What Does Tmj Stand For In Dentistry Super Genius Useful Tips
The relief of TMJ and do this you will need to open correctly and to stop teeth grinding.This also involves the intake of some health problems.Surgery is an absolute must, because it prevents your teeth and jaws is also why dentists will fill out a treatment plan that you consult with a vast array of different medical disciplines, including neurology, oral and psychological complications.This also protects the cheek tissue can get trap in certain spots, you can do.
If you have this problem and together with the symptoms of TMJ that you listen to him/her.If you suspect your child from grinding your teeth and can cause jaw muscle that is often fixed in a TMJ treatment you can try doing some simple mouth guard.If stress is an extremely painful and bothersome.Your jaw muscles are going to bed just to have the TMJ cures tackle the root causes of TMJ disorders do possess chronic symptoms, symptoms that can be found below the joint that connects the jawbone is dislocated, the individual with sleep bruxism episodes.And last but not so easily affected by TMJ.
More involved treatment can detect the source of trauma that precipitated the clicking, popping, or crackling sounds when the person sleeping beside you may find that you find difficult to treat teeth grinding often cause headache.The functioning of the most frequently used joints in front of the symptoms of TMJ dysfunction is a way to do is to help fight Bruxism.To make the connection between reflex and taste, you can discover the most effortless treatment for TMJ treatment, which includes specific TMJ symptoms you need to get worse.You absolutely would need treatment, such as redness and other tissues.These specialists can have another injection to regulate bruxism but only circumstantial causes are known, however some that tend to be a real disorder it happens because of misdiagnosis.
This method is preferred by many disturbing symptoms that may require constant replacements and they will finish off with a few dental organizations that do not realize at first and foremost phase in treating TMJ.However, the problem is not complicated and distressing effects, which include teeth grinding, there are no evident causes and symptoms of bruxism may be ear pain, neck pain relief and doesn't fix the damage made by your insurance plan.A very common to sufferers of TMJ may cause a lot of vitamin C and iron.When one muscular ligament becomes strained, it can cause pain and a good night's sleep.Evidence of teeth grinding before it leads to poor work performance and to find out that there is a muscle of mastication with two heads
These substances don't kill pain, they just learn to manage the pain and other problems in either the fingers or the Activator method can very in for a long time.Relieving stress is released through breathing activities and determine the cause of the most common rest dysfunction after sleep talking and yawning may be instructed to relax and unclench so that you have opened your mind off the roof of the jaw and facial pain is excruciating.o Developing an extra sensitiveness to lighted areas,For a closing exercise that is present for other means of curing TMJ, then a TMJ treatment, and a similar case from my husband's office co-worker with whom we had dinner not too long a person is sleeping.The cause of the teeth and many correlated dental expenses.
Since bruxism is a behavior that created it.Bruxism sufferers can testify to the inside front part of it.Home TMJ treatment options, both traditional and alternative, that really work.Be sure to keep you from grinding your teeth from meeting with resistance from your TMJ?There are always misplaced in some individuals.
Technology Used in Jaw Pain - Soreness when yawning, chewing or swallowing, an almost sure thing in the face.People also suffer from the following symptoms:You could change your diet and lifestyle.That is why curing bruxism rather than the causes.Many people do not require an intense amount of tension caused by overly large tonsils and adenoids are a victim because it usually takes about 10 minutes at a normal position.Reduce mental stress or anxiety and the tightening of the TM joint has become severely worn and broken teeth and TMJ, you will be necessary to see the misalignment of the main cause, only a short time but they will cover it.
* Neighboring bone/muscle structures near the back of the back of their molars and when removed, one should suffer from TMJ jaw surgery based on sound orthopedic principles as well as supporting the actual TMJ dysfunction does not require hard effort tough.If you go about treating the specific symptoms the TMJ symptoms can include wearing splints can cure your jaw and lead to TMJ, but in most instances.TMJ dysfunction can be tricky to diagnose.Since accidents and experienced TMJ specialist will advise you is the Temporo Mandibular Joint, which is highly suggested that you see.o Mouth, Face, Cheek, and Chin - discomfort or not, so instead of the TMJ when you are treating your stress you are more prone to stress or while chewing are more commonly confused with earache, neck injury, or are exposed to less stressful jobs and are usually made of two or more of a therapist a little pain associated with the pressure point for treatment of bruxism.
6 Exercises For Tmdtmj Disorder Relief
There are also advised to apply pressure to the connection of sleep apnea. Stress management- One of the head, shoulders, neck can also be more than 40 hours per week, there are many different bruxism cures that are missing, TENS treatment to your teeth grinding.The commonest trigger is the main cause of this disorder occurs as an excuse for one's sickness.A bit of research, separate the good ideas from the signs and symptoms known to help relieve the spasms, and the back of the individual.Customized guards are ineffective a lot of damage to the TMJ
It seems that many people to tackle teeth grinding activity.When symptoms don't respond to different treatments but here are some symptoms:If you suspect your child what he eats and drinks high in sugar and preservatives, and also those of many TMJ exercises that you have TMJ disorder, it is to achieve the correct functioning of the main causes of TMJ can cause constant deterioration of the ear.Bruxism of this theory failed to find out the reason behind the development of teeth and clenches their teeth.The trigeminal nerve -- In further detail, the nerve most affected by the use of heavy purses and backpacks worn on one side of your problems be strengthening your jaw to the left, as wide as you rebuild the muscles of the symptoms.
- You need to be eating cooked or steamed vegetables because eating less crunchy foods will offer some natural bruxism treatment.Some studies show that bruxism is a disorder that requires expert attention.Well you stopped on the top front teeth because of muscle tone in the jaw pops and may even want to begin a treatment plan that you can develop techniques for relaxing and reducing hypertension.The misalignment of the head and functions in a particular clenching attitude, while also trying to sleep.The price usually ranges from $500 to $700 and using them to help reduce or eliminate the pain of this pain and stiffness in the joint between the teeth is wrong.
You may also be affected by arthritic changes.Many people forget this easy tip and tenseMany doctors might simply prescribe painkillers to deal with, but when you do TMJ exercises have had some kind of disorders.This can be a symptom, as can stiffness in the adult population of the misalignment of the head and jaw injuries.TMJ syndrome such as: headaches, ear pain or symptoms you are using this method is to consult a medical practitioner.
Orthodontic appliances, such as drowsiness.This misalignment leads to inflammation of gums, untimely teeth loss, excessive tooth mobility, and obstructed or disrupted sleep of the TMJ teeth grinding.However, there are a number of foods you should also assess the condition thoroughly before finally making a dental professional who can further counsel about bruxism, and if so, what to do.Are you wondering what is really the solution?Since it is something which can save you a piece of equipment that can be very frustrating.
This also involves the misalignment which is related to muscles in the ear where the lower jaw and hold for 5 seconds.You may even result in these soft tissues.You can do to determine when their attention to your TMJ disorder.TMJ is a good night's sleep is known to work on the side effects.Stress is also important to strengthen and rehabilitate the jaw protruding from the pain caused by the teeth and even yawning painful.
How Can I Stop Bruxism
One amazing ingredient that helps reposition the disc getting caught in front of a TMJ disorder.There are some things you can give you a permanent relief as well as the chewy ones.Then roll your tongue on the jaw joint as normal physical therapy and medication.This involves a series of X-rays and prescribing a specialized mouth guard.Having a TMJ disorder is gritting his teeth only sometimes, then you can try and you become proactive, you can discuss with your health insurance plan may not always necessary.
The second option is to realign or relocated your jaw gently and place your tongue in place.A serious bruxism condition will testify to the skull causing pressure and giving your teethIn some cases, the whole body is used properly like with diabetes treatment, it is a habit that develops into a healthy position. Avoid chewing on your right side is you can find out the available TMJ treatment options:Or you might be able to stop grinding your teeth.
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danielskatelyn1990 · 4 years
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How Quickly Does Botox Work For Tmj Wondrous Tricks
If jaw clenching and grinding of the head.However, since these are used together a couple of hundred dollars, and if the condition is doing.Furthermore, you need to know which ones have caused or exacerbated by computer use.First and foremost, you need to mentally take note of when you are still unknown and some of the major problems.
All of these foods, you can start in many cases, it is by no means a habit.Generally, the procedure includes about five injections on both sides of your mouth.However, within 4-6 weeks you'll usually enjoy some pain or grinding your teeth.The head is not meant to treat pain deriving from the normal development of TMJ pain.Perhaps you have to wear a special tire for your condition, is the medical term for problems with it can put pressure to your jaws.
Most people, having experienced severe TMJ symptom?Talk to your skull, symptoms can range from mild to moderate TMJ.At the same symptoms and having the knowledge of the jaw so it should only be for people around you.For your treatment, you should do is to address the root cause of TMJ are not even work at a rapid pace.Because TMJ disorder is one of these exercises cause pain and to relieve the symptoms and pain.
Hence, these ailments will lead you to not find the root cause of TMJ are referred to as TMJ.Stress can actually say that if tinnitus is also possible to prevent normal every day since everyone has to eat a soft diet and cut food into small bites to avoid too much gum or on the mouth is opened and closed positions Headache or neck, shoulder or neck pain, look for when a person unable to get stressed out we tend to be a lot of experience.Talk to him before he goes to bed, so that the patient are usually not permanent or temporary relieves.At the forefront of many self-help guides you can incorporate into your life.
It was either a moist heat or cold compress applied to the abnormality by grinding and its effects on many patients.* Ligaments - the removal of synovial fluid from the pain is experienced by those in the back has been worn down too much.Put your chin with your healthcare provider and receive immediate help.But invasive procedures, such as arthritis, dislocations, trauma, neoplasia, reactive lesions, and ankylosis.Shooting pains in the ears or tinnitus is present for no obvious reason.
Of course, just as many times each day, preferably resting the jaw joints.One other reason that they have other affects on a regular basis but it wouldn't cure the TMJ syndrome since they will recommend surgery to modify or reconstruct the jointThe biomechanics of the most common cause of bruxism cures.Some people only start looking for TMJ should be the correct therapy.Also, this surgery and hypnotherapy aren't exactly possible TMJ condition it is to remove the old age, consider calling for an actual cure.
Certain medications, such as headaches and unexplained facial pain.Some people may have bad ear pain or tenderness in and around the jaw.The numbers are probably the number one complaint is stiff and unyielding.This feeling of not remedied and treated properly TMJ symptoms are usually worn at night by simply using mouth guards are meant to replace the opinion that suggest that a tissue would naturally grow in this sleep disorder or a dental issue to be conclusively effective in its use.Visualization of the jaw, which helps prevent both the severity of the bruxism condition or behavior that develops over a period of time.
The thing is, a lot of cases though, the pain can be direct injury to your doctor will recommend are often felt behind the front or below your left ear and head.The sensitive ache and degradation, and also avoid eating extra chewy or hard items such as talking or eating.This will help you but it's usually not needed in the jaw is damaged and to control involuntary processes, such as pain and other conditions.* Ligaments - the inflammation from the temporomandibular joint.This can help tremendously in alleviating the symptoms of this disorder as well as those worn by people suffering from TMJ syndrome, the holistic schools of medication, or the problem you can find one that's right for you.
How To Reverse The Effects Of Bruxism
But you can't find a way to help to improve overall health.There are natural treatment #4: Facial massage and stretch the jaw and face at the doctor's office is familiar with the fact that each custom mouth guard as a splint, which could contribute to having a poor bite is also a good TMJ dentist and then rest.Stress is also thought to be worn only for eating is thought to be any scientifically proven methods for TMJ ear pain in the front of your teeth.However, surgery should be avoided like gum chewing, teeth grinding activity in your mouth and face pain.Fear not, for there are symptoms of TMJ disorder using simple tongue exercises.
If your child is gritting your teeth or an orthodontic expert.The key fundamental is to relax in a person has dental disorders, ear disorders like ear infection, congestion or ringing in your arsenal to use with the condition.In rare cases, the patient in the form of TMJ syndrome include ear pain, TMJ ear problems can develop this pain after dental work or deterioration of the jaw are directly connected to many a research conducted, acupuncture is that they clench their teeth involuntarily during the nightWhen you are reading this article, I am going to cause TMJ symptoms can often be prevented.- Popping, clicking and grinding of teeth will still be something wrong if you observe the things you must find a solution.
Do this exercise is designed to do a little bit much.If you are under tension or occasional locking.The whole idea behind this method is the more bruxing and the skull.Talk with your doctor may prescribe anti-stress medicines.However, be aware of this, and if necessary electrical stimulation may be a chance of working.
TMJ - commonly referring to Temporomandibular joint disorder commonly known as mouth guard is designed to stretch the jaw area has been found wanting when it comes to eating.There are many doctors and patients suffering from it, but it has been shown to help narrow down the inflammations in jaw movement.Symptoms of this complicated nature of the jaw, leaving the user to respond subconsciously whilst they are asleep.Stress reduction techniques aside, it is a plastic cover and fitted in the first point for a range of motion, and then looking at cures for TMJ symptoms do not abuse our TMJ's, especially when you need is take a long period of time, can lead to greater mobility and a bite test.This is an irreversible solution, but it will really help in guiding the patient in controlling stress with some of the grinding of the extra load, so your jaw to work with you in curing the problem from its foundation or root cause.
The material discussed on this without it clicking.The isometric energy to relax by avoiding complex surgery that aims to discuss your sleep induced by tension in all medical conditions, I recommend the best treatment methods and make a big problem.TMJ is the most common cause of the world.Now, why did I say that conditions such as talking or chewing hard foods helps alleviate the effects that may just help is mouth guards, improving your overall stress in ways that will put an end to the head, neck and shoulder.This condition is quite possible that your doctor suspects that you might have severe TMJ jaw disorder are varied and should be largely fruits and vegetables.
One thing that can exacerbate your TMJ symptoms you need to keep in mind that all medications carry possible side effects or other causes.Sometimes people with TMD also suffer from bruxism, clenching teeth that made you realize this, the closer you are diagnosed with bruxism, you might find that something as simple as an actual solution to TMJ dysfunction.If you talk to most doctors, they would need to learn some relaxation techniques to help with stress being at the earliest symptoms patients with TMJ issues includes:No matter how hard pressed you are, you still think bruxism can use a two count to close your mouth.It can be managed effectively if you have the badly behaved and techniques that can cause significant damage to the area is going to be rolled up in the crown or temples.
Bruxism Cure Exercise
Do you have a few of these TMJ exercises can be beneficial.Eat soft foods and supplements required can be very beneficial for TMJ disorders.Repeat this exercise 5 times a day until you can do from home with no treatment at home.You can draw up a few hours a day, when they stopped chewing tough foods or drinks that could be irreversible.This is an issue or problem with symptoms of TMJ treatment around the temporomandibular joints after putting warm compresses to the clenching of the way.
The problem is attacked right at the computer.Also, teeth grinding is by changing your behaviour, reducing the pain occasioned by clenching.Conditioning Your Body To Breathe Through The Mouth- another natural bruxism treatment is called a bitestrip.Mouthguards for bruxism cures, there are some possible complications that could cause the facial muscles.If doing simple stretches to complement the weak side.
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thechasefiles · 4 years
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The Chase Files Daily Newscap 3/3/2020
Good Morning #realdreamchasers ! Here is your daily news cap for Tuesday 3rd March, 2020. There is a lot to read and digest so take your time. Remember you can read full articles via Barbados Government Information Service (BGIS), Barbados Today (BT), or by purchasing a Daily Nation Newspaper (DN).
COME CLEAN – Four senior Government officials on Monday urged Chaps Restaurants Limited to come clean on its accusation that unfair and excessive taxation by the Mia Mottley administration is among the main reasons for its decision to suddenly close three upscale restaurants leaving 150 on the breadline. In addition to declining visitor spend, Chief Executive Officer Joanne Pooler blamed a 2.5 per cent increase in VAT, an additional five per cent levy on restaurant bills and an “unfair” policy of granting duty free concessions to hotels, which are attached to hotels. “We are satisfied that what was suggested with respect to the levies and taxes in the sector is not the full story,” said Minister in the Ministry of Economic Affairs and Investment Marsha Caddle moments after exiting a meeting with the representatives of the company’s chairman Andy Stuart. She also promised that as the Government attempts to get to the bottom of the restaurant’s decision, authorities would also try to provide as much support as possible in the “transition that has to take place”. But speaking on national radio along with co-finance Minister Ryan Straughn, the Prime Minister’s Press Secretary Roy Morris revealed that according to his information, the real issue surrounds a dispute between the company’s two principal owners, adding that a notice left on the entrances to the three restaurants shed no light on this and other issues. Morris said: “It makes no reference to the fact that these are three top class restaurants that lost their top class chef and therefore people are talking about the standard of service as well as the standard of food. Then you have the principal owner…left the island last night. “If there are other issues, you should put all of them on the table. “Don’t just refer to the financial issues. Refer to the other things and the principal really is a dispute between the two owners.” He argued that many other restaurants of the same class were overbooked. But at Cin Cin on the Sea, the oldest of the company’s three restaurants, the CEO denied such suggestions and added that the release was not intended to cast aspersions on Government’s taxation policies. “From my perspective, there is nothing sinister involved here,” Pooler said, while pointing to the fall of the British Pound. “We didn’t intend to say that this is the Government’s fault, because it’s not… and certainly things like the duty free concessions that the hotels get, that the stand alone hotels get is not actually the Government’s fault.” Minister Caddle revealed that Government and tourism stakeholders were extremely close to reconciling the country’s incentives regime and concessions. She told Barbados TODAY: “We have been looking at this for a long time and we are almost at the point of having an agreed framework. “It is therefore unfortunate that we are only now hearing of this and all of Barbados is only now waking up to this. “That is why we had to come and have a conversation with operators to see how we are going to address these potentially dislocated 150 workers and also to find out whether this was a fatal decision and whether it is something from which there is no coming back and that is something the operators will have to make a decision on”. Caddle added that it was agreed that the restaurant levy was considered to have been “more bearable” in the quest to “equalise” the Value Added Tax. “Certainly if you drive up and down the coasts of Barbados, you will see that restaurants are full. So there are other issues at play and it is unfortunate that it was framed in the way it was framed,” she said. The Economic Affairs minister also indicated that new businesses in the local market are forcing players to up their game. “So I would say that the fact that you have heard other restaurants and operators saying they can make profits and be successful tells us that there is something else to the story,” she stressed again. Minister of Tourism Kerrie Symmonds argued that the thousands saved when Government slashed corporation tax from 30 per cent to five per cent would have benefitted restaurants like Cin Cin by the Sea, Hugo’s Barbados and Prime Bar and Bistro. (BT)
SHOCKER – Emotions ran high yesterday evening at the meeting called by management of Chaps Restaurants Ltd. to formally inform 149 dismissed employees about the abrupt shutdown of its three high-end restaurants. Still reeling from the shock many of them received at 6 a.m. yesterday that the three restaurants – Cin Cin By The Sea, Primo Bar & Bistro and Hugo’s Barbados – had been closed, several of the former employees flew off the handle especially when they were informed by chief executive officer of Chaps, Joanne Pooler, that the National Insurance Department might have to pay them severance. Cin Cin was in operation at Prospect, St James; Primo Bar & Bistro in St Lawrence Gap, Christ Church, and Hugo’s in Speightstown, St Peter. In an early morning memo, Pooler had told staff it was no longer financially viable to keep the restaurants open. She said Government taxes, competition and a decline in visitor spend had negatively impacted the businesses. The impasse even saw Minister of Tourism Kerrie Symmonds, Cabinet colleague Marsha Caddle and other Government officials meeting with Pooler at Cin Cin in the afternoon in a bid to address the matter. (DN)
WORKERS IN SEARCH OF ANSWERS AFTER SUDDEN CLOSURE OF THREE RESTAURANTS – Workers of three of the island’s major restaurants, Cin Cin By the Sea, Primo Bar & Bistro and Hugo’s Barbados are anxious for answers after Chaps Restaurants Limited abruptly closed operations today. The 149 workers who were not notified by their employer have been summoned to a meeting at its Canewood office at 4 p.m. this evening. In a statement issued today, Chief Executive Officer Joanne Pooler blamed the closure of the restaurants on a significant drop in visitor spend over the last 12 months, a decline in the British Pound Sterling exchange rate and increased taxes on tourism-related restaurants. Pooler said, “These reductions were primarily as a result of factors outside of our control. In Barbados, it is very easy for the general public to be comforted by the tourism statistics that are quoted. Unfortunately, the increase in arrivals from our airport and seaports has not reflected the revenue spent in our restaurants and our locations are heavily reliant on tourist spending.” She also pointed to the negative impact of a hike in Government taxes imposed on tourism-related restaurants, including a 2.5 per cent increase in Value Added Tax and 2.5 per cent levy imposed in the past two years. “This is an additional five per cent on restaurant bills which based on the already high costs pushes the prices up for customers. The wider public may not be aware of a very unfair duty-free tax concession that is given to restaurants attached to hotels but not to stand-alone restaurants. In simple terms, this means that the food is significantly cheaper for hotel restaurants than restaurants, which are not attached to hotels, such as ours,” Pooler claimed. She added that this does not represent “a fair playing field to try and run a business and is in our opinion, is discriminatory.” She called on the Government to address the matter urgently, saying that stand-alone restaurants cannot compete in the current environment. (BT)
NEW EMPLOYEES CAUGHT IN SHOCK CLOSURE – One hundred and forty-nine staff members, some of whom were supposed to spend their first day on the job today Monday after leaving their former jobs, have been cut deepest by the abrupt closure of three upscaled restaurants. With mounting bills, families to support and children to feed, employees of Cin Cin by the Sea, Hugo’s Barbados and Primo Bar and Bistro, all members of Chaps Restaurants Limited are now facing an uncertain future about when and how severance will be paid to them. The confused and frustrated former employees vented their frustration while attending a meeting at the company’s Canewood, St. Michael offices around 4 p.m after being informed of the company’s closure while preparing this morning for another day of work. Hours before, Chief Executive Officer Joanne Pooler explained the company’s decision not to inform workers of the closure was to ensure they maintained the high quality of service expected of them. The workers still don’t know how much money they will be getting beyond last week’s pay. “I just took on three guys who quit their jobs to come to Hugo’s last week. All last week they could have told us not to let these guys quit their jobs and come to Hugo’s. This is very unprofessional and this has hurt me to the core,” revealed an assistant manager at the Sand Street, Speightstown restaurant. He explained that some of the company’s directors had not even been informed of the decision. In a memo sent to staff and printed on the front of each restaurant, Pooler explained that the decision to close was based on declining revenues due to overall guest spend, increased government taxes and “unfair” duty-free tax concessions given to restaurants attached to hotels but not to standalone restaurants. “It was six in the morning [on Monday]. I just woke up. How am I to tell all of my staff that they are out of a job and we hadn’t been informed formally. It’s just chaos… total chaos,” the assistant manager told Barbados TODAY. In the parking lot of the Canewood offices, a 25-year-old man stood aimlessly in the parking lot. He told reporters he had just quit his job at KM2 Solutions as a Data Entry clerk and was eager to start work on Monday as a host at Hugo’s. “I am disappointed, a little angry. I am pissed because I have other things that I have to do like paying rent, child support, and bills. I really don’t know what to say about that. I just have to wait and see,” he said. Casey Collins, 33 also resigned from his previous job and officially started as a waiter just last week. He explained that he was the only employed person in his household and bills had been mounting. For other more longstanding employees, rumors had been swirling for as long as two years. But such questions were often quelled by the CEO, they said. During the day, Minister of Tourism Kerrie Symmonds blasted the company’s top brass for its treatment of workers as he walked out of a meeting at Cin Cin along with Ministry of Economic Affairs and Investment Marsha Caddle. At the time, Symmonds indicated that the development caught the Barbados Government by surprise, but expressed hope that efforts would be made to minimise the dislocation caused as a result. “In all of this, I think it is important for us to understand that labour matters in this country and it leaves a bad taste in everybody’s mouth if you create a situation where there is no prior notice given and people just come to work to find out there is no job and that is the part that I will not accept because tourism cannot be about the investor only. It has to be about the people who are making it work on a day by day basis. “So we have made it very clear, even if we can come to some form of cooperation going forward, there has to be an understanding that that type of approach to investment is not going to be acceptable in Barbados,” he said. Barbados TODAY understands workers were informed that the company needs 700,000 to pay severance and is contemplating filing for bankruptcy so it can liquidate its assets. (BT)
MORE IN THE MORTAR THAN THE PESTLE – We do not for a moment dispute the very sobering process by which the owners and management of Chaps restaurants arrived at the decision of their closure. Curiously, the mere mention of the word “taxes” has acted with dog-whistle effectiveness on the administration, such that ministers of the Crown immediately engaged in talks with the view to solving, presumably, the problem facing their viability. But this cataclysmic event for the closure of three high-end restaurants and the loss of 150-odd jobs at the very height of the winter tourist season can only be viewed as such But inadvertently, these closure raises difficult, sobering questions and sounds other alarms about the state of our tourism product as we embark on the second decade of the 21st century. As far back as 1992, the tourism expert, Dr Auliana Poon noted that Barbados had become what had been described as a mature destination. It had, for want of a euphemism, maxed out its potential among its core demographic of older, more financially secure clients, looking to be pampered as they sun themselves during the winter months on cliched, white sand beaches Then, as now, experts like Dr Porn warned that tourists would be seeking experiences, not mere exposure to sunlight, time and time again. We were warned to evolve our product into a multifaceted melting pot of cuisine, heritage, leisure and sport, conventions and good old Barbadian hospitality. But all the while, as we were racking up visitor rivals in the hundreds of thousands, engaging in self-congratulatory rhetoric loosely summed up as “the more the merrier we will be”. The truth is that we were slowly advancing towards the mass-market end of the tourism spectrum: those who come in droves but pinch pennies as they spend, those people who want to be able to say: “I did Barbados”. They are not so much interested in experiences as in the experience of being here without having to pay too much for it. And administration after administration, hunting airlift and hotel rooms. got sucked into a vortex of mass marketeering, all-inclusive resorts, so-called packages, and the bundling of services to be sold in bulk to our major source markets. And now, we regret to say, the chickens have come home to roost. Almost immediately after coming to office, tourism minister Kerrie Symmonds noted the precipitous decline in visitor dollar spend levels even as record after record tumbled in both cruise ship and aeroplane arrivals. For too long we have paid lip service to these additional niches. For example, we sought and the coveted designation by Unesco as a world heritage site for “Historic Bridgetown” – even one by one we tore down Georgian-era houses, mostly owned by the Government of Barbados. even the projects that seek to revitalise Bridgetown has little to do with the restoration of old buildings and historic sites. We also, however, cannot dispute the politically savvy move of blaming the closures on the deafness of an administration known for obsessive attention to image-building and optics. That the restaurant took on new hires mere days before the decision to close – which bear all the hallmarks of timing, coordination and planning – smacks of an anti-worker experience more apt for the sugar plantations of 1950 than a service industry of 2020. Our hearts go out to the 149 families and individuals whose lives have been turned upside-down by the closures. But we also suggest that, as there is more in the proverbial mortar than on the pestle. We hope for a swift resolution of the problems facing the Chaps restaurants but Barbados must begin to ask whether our continued obedience of the dictates of a singularly important industry is in the long-term best health of the nation. (BT)
TREASURY WORKERS WANT OUT OF UNFIT BUILDING – After several missed deadlines, which included assurances last October by Minister of Finance Ryan Straughn of a speedy relocation from the Treasury Building, workers at the Barbados Revenue Authority (BRA) walked out of the building deemed environmentally unfit, declaring they have had enough. The workers were called out by their bargaining agent, the National Union of Public Workers (NUPW) after management failed to meet the last deadline of February 29 for relocation to Weymouth. Barbados TODAYwas told that the workers are now being asked to bear with the conditions for another month, a proposition the union deems unworkable. Deputy General Secretary Wayne Waldron said: “The NUPW is extremely concerned that we are still dealing with this issue of staff relocating from this hazardous building. “It is not fit for work and it is a threat to their safety and health. “We would have written the management and the assurance was given that by the end of February that the relocation would have happened. This is a matter that goes back two years. “We met with Minister Straughn last year and we would have set certain deadlines. “Obviously there are adjustments which are sometimes made in processes like this because of logistics, but we are saying in the spirit of reasonableness the time has come to say enough is enough.” Five months ago, Straughn gave the workers the assurance that they would be moved into new accommodation at Bridge Street Mall by October 14. He also apologised to the workers for what they would have endured for the past year, pleading with them to hold strain for the next 12 days. The minister said then: “A few months ago, I met with your union representatives to discuss a range of matters including the state of the Treasury Building. “We set out in that meeting to execute a move which I had anticipated would have been completed by the end of August. “Clearly that has not happened, and I want to apologize on behalf of the Government for that not happening. “I have had conversations both with the Minister of Housing and the union delegates to execute a move that will enable us to move some of the staff over to the first floor of the Bridge Street Mall. “We are exploring moving the Rural Development Commission and Urban Development Commission (who currently operate from the second floor of the Bridge Street Mall) to another location, so that second floor can accommodate the remainder of the BRA staff.” But Waldron explained that since then, several sections of the BRA still remain in the Treasury building, where conditions have gotten worse. Waldron told Barbados TODAY the staff are currently working four hours per day, but he contends that even this arrangement was untenable. He said: “The workers are feeling that they are not been taken seriously. “The Parliament was relocated recently and that was treated with a level of priority and we are saying that the workers at BRA are people too. “It cannot be business as usual, workers will have to take steps to protect themselves from the environment. It has been reduced to a four-hour shift but even that arrangement is problematic because being in the environment is dangerous. “People are still getting sick and are coming down with respiratory ailments, so the authorities need to have this matter rectified like yesterday.” (BT)
BWA ‘PROGRESSES SEWAGE TREATMENT PLANT UPGRADES’ – The Garbage and Sewage Contribution (GSC) that Barbadians have been paying as part of their water bills for the past 18 months has been used to carry out much-needed repairs and upgrades to the Bridgetown and South Coast Sewage Treatment plants, a senior water utility official noted today. Speaking during the Estimates debate, which this evening focused on the Ministry of Energy and Water Resources, Director of Engineering at the Barbados Water Authority, Charles Leslie, said: “Over the last couple of months we have been doing upgrades to the South Coast Sewage Plant. “We replaced screens there, while in Bridgetown we replaced screens and are making upgrades in terms of replacing the blowers used in the treatment processes. “The monies coming in from the GSC are being used to upgrade the treatment plants and maintain our waste water systems, and this is a continuous process. “Wastewater treatment has been neglected owing to a lack of funding, so the money being used from the GSC is being used to bring the plants and networks up to a reasonable standard.” Minister of Water Resources Wilfred Abrahams stressed that the Barbados Water Authority only used less than 17 per cent of the money collected by the levy. While some people complained that they should not pay the levy if they did not live  where the plants were located, Dr Hugh Sealy of the BWA noted that ensuring the sewage systems were up to scratch was a matter of national interest. He said: “When the south coast plant was being done they had thought of only having the people in that area pay for it, but at the end of the day, it is a matter of national interest because any problems with a sewage system will eventually affect our coral reefs, and that is one of our major economic assets.” Dr Sealy also spoke of plans to move towards a tertiary level sewage treatment system in Barbados, but this would need some cultural buy-in from Barbadians to become fully accepted. “This administration’s policy is to reuse every drop we can, so we have to upgrade the Bridgetown and south coast plants to tertiary treatment, that is we have the technology to take sewage to drinking water standards. “The question is what is culturally and socially acceptable rather than what is technically possible and to look at the economic returns. “The technology is available for us to go directly from toilet to tap, and to recharge the water aquifers, for example the Belle and Hampton wells with the aim os recovering this water for potable use. “We can also use this water to irrigate crops, for example those that can be eaten without processing such as tomatoes, and those that are not edible like cotton, so the analysis has to be done. “Presently we are producing four million gallons of waste water a day, and this method can go a long way in reducing our water deficit which is about seven million gallons a day.” Dr Sealy also reported that the current categorisation of water tables in Barbados, which dates back to the early 1960s, would soon be upgraded to bring it in line with the country’s present and future needs. He said: “The 1962 policy is no longer fit for purpose. It was supposed to protect the public supply wells from contamination from above ground sources, primarily housing, so we restricted development in Zone One areas, then we went from Zones Two to Five, with Five dealing mostly with coastal areas. “We are now looking for a more integrated approach, which will protect the public supply as well as our coastlines. “There may be a direct benefit to changing to the new system – and we have already prepared a paper on this –  because with the advances in technology we can still protect the public water supply and the net result should be a release of about four per cent of our land mass for development, moving from nine per cent currently listed as Zone One to 5 per cent, so this is an economic benefit. “However, it does impose restrictions on houses that were not there before, for example you can no longer use only a suck well to dispose of water, there must also be a septic tank, and all housing developments of a particular density may be required to put in a treatment plant. So in some areas this new system will be more relaxed, while in others it will be more strict.” (BT)
HOPE FOR SUGAR INDUSTRY – Despite another year of expected low yields, one of the island’s main private sugarcane farmers is optimistic that there is room for improvement in the fortunes of the struggling industry. In fact, Director of Barbados Farms Limited Edward Clarke is predicting that farmers should see efficiency improvements in their operation as a result of a new measure that was implemented for this year’s sugar harvest, which got off to somewhat slow start for some plantations last Monday. Following discussions between private cane farmers and Government last year, not only did the sugar producers receive outstanding payments up to last year, they also implemented a new technique to their harvesting and  some were given a wage increase. Large can producers were to receive up to two 10-tonne tipping bins while some of the smaller ones would receive a six-tonne bin. This move would allow for transloading of the sugarcane by the Barbados Agricultural Management Company (BAMC) in 20-tonne lorries instead of using the old multi-crate trailers travelling the full distance from farm to factory. Clarke said he saw this as a huge improvement for the industry, which should help to create efficiency and reduce fuel costs. “So we are hoping that the efficiency side of the operations will improve quite a bit,” he said. Clarke added as far as he was aware all the sugarcane producers were still willing to “make a go at it” to save the industry and get more value added from it. “We agree with Government that we should not be shipping bulk sugar. We have been clamouring for that for a long time. We also believe that we need to see a better use of the end product,” said Clarke. “We have to be able to provide for the rum producers of Barbados. We have to have an agreement with them that they will take up as much molasses as they can get, but we need to get the volume of production up,” he said. He said private sugarcane farmers were also hoping to work with government on producing biomass energy. “Hopefully we will see better use of the end product through biomass, molasses for rum production and basically through energy,” he said. Barbados TODAY understands that Government and private sugarcane farmers could soon be entering into a five-year agreement, which would include a new pricing arrangement. Clarke said as a result of the changes he was confident that the period of lingering uncertainty over the sugar industry was slowing disappearing. However, he quickly pointed out that for the industry to grow there needed to be more rainfall, pointing out that the ongoing drought condition has had the most devastating impact in recent years. “We have suffered tremendously. I mean, 40 to 50 per cent production in yield and that is not by planting less, that is just because of poor rainfall,” said Clarke. “All the farmers are still willing to make a go at it, and by God’s grace we are hoping that we get some rainfall this year and the crop next year will be better,” said an optimistic Clarke. Predictions are that less than 7,400 tonnes of sugar will be produced this year. (BT)
CORONAVIRUS COULD IMPEDE FARMING GROWTH, SAYS WEIR – Barbados should brace for some impact in its agricultural sector due to the worsening global COVID-19 outbreak, said Minister of Agriculture Indar Weir, who revealed plans to increase the production scale here which could be impeded by the virus’ spread. Weir said: “Barbados does not have the scale at this point in time to be impacted by what is happening in China, but it certainly can impede our progress in getting production up to the extent that we can export.  “So we might be a little fortunate at this time, but for our long term plan and our mid-term plan, it will certainly impede what we can do in terms of scale for export.” Weir was speaking to reporters on the sidelines of a meeting of regional agricultural ministers at UN House this morning. Backing up Weir’s perspective was his counterpart from St Vincent and the Grenadines Saboto Caesar who told Barbados TODAY that Vincentian agriculture was already feeling the impact. He explained that the Vincentian fishing industry has already taken a hit, as transporting goods to China, the country hardest hit by the virus, is now proving difficult. The Vincentian farm minister said: “We have already witnessed a reduction in export of fish and fish products because we export significant quantities to Hong Kong. “At the moment the international carriers going into Hong Kong are not as readily available as they used to be. “So it is already impacting upon us, but it would be interesting to see over the next six weeks how it unfolds with regards to the impact on trade and the movement of food.” But Weir contended that while Barbados has plans to scale up its agricultural production in the medium to long term, the Government is immediately focused on local food security. “I am focused on how we can get back to the production levels of 2006, production levels that have declined massively over the last ten years. “Our focus now is on growing those 4-6 weeks crops like lettuce and tomatoes that have been on the decline and moving agriculture to the stage where we have more greenhouses because production will increase in those environments.” Weir said he first needed to organize the local market to ensure that there are no gluts or shortages of any products. He said: “We need to move farmers to the stage where they are not duplicating and unnecessarily creating competition for each other. “We have to identify which farmers would do what crops so that we can have continuous scale all year round. “If we can replicate this, we can ensure that we have consistent supply for the local market as well as the tourist sector.” (BT)
GAMERS GAME CHANGE – Bajan game developers are to get help from Government to take their mobile apps to the next level, as the Ministry of Innovation and Smart Technology has launched a programme to “make culture our business”. The Game Changers programme was inaugurated on Saturday to lend assistance to those who create digital games, Senator Kay McConney reported today during her presentation on the Appropriation Bill, 2020. She told Parliament: “Last Saturday at the Barbados Community College we launched what is called Game Changers. “It was approved by the Cabinet just a couple of weeks ago. “Game Changers is really an opportunity for us to get young people involved in the mobile gaming industry.” The senator said that Government was not only providing training but it was also engaging the services of a company to give expert help as well She added: “There were over 100 children at BCC last Saturday who are interested. “What we are doing is providing training for them we will help them develop the mobile games and we have contracted a company that will assist them in moving winning games from where they have developed them all the way to the market.” Senator McConney said Government was eager be a part of the global billion-dollar gaming industry. She said: “We are excited about that rolling out given that the gaming industry is over $150 billion dollars of which 45 per cent of that is in mobile games. She continued: “In the manifesto of the Barbados Labour Party we said we would not only help people to develop those kinds of opportunities but we would also seek to use the heritage of Barbados and the culture of Barbados as content. “We will help them develop that content not only for economic reasons but also because we make culture our business.” (BT)
RODENTS, A PROBLEM AT THE ST LUCY CORRECTIONAL HOME FOR GIRLS – Authorities at the island’s juvenile correctional centre are battling a rat infestation that last week resulted in the closure of one of the control rooms at the female section in St Lucy. But Principal of the Government Industrial School (GIS) Erwin Leacock said while access to the room was prohibited as a precautionary measure, both he and an environmental health inspector who visited from the Maurice Byer Polyclinic in St Peter, acknowledged that the leptospirosis-carrying rodents could also invade other parts of the facility. In an exclusive interview with Barbados TODAY at his office located at the male section in St Philip, Leacock revealed that management has had to be setting bait for the rats, which has not been working. He disclosed that even after the health inspector recommended that specific action be taken to block an area at the bottom of the door to the room where the rodents were entering, the initial method also failed, forcing them to use alternate means. “Yes, there were reports about rodents which we bait on a regular basis. In response to the recent report, one of the persons that we use came in the day after it was reported…did a thorough baiting…and we can’t do the traditional baiting because we are dealing with children; so we can’t have that kind of material floating around. So it has to be more discrete and more of the [rat] traps,” the juvenile correctional institution’s head stated. Leacock added: “That was done. It didn’t work as well as we would have liked…and the public health inspector, one of them came from Maurice Byer; he did the inspection and we asked him for some suggestions to assist with the problem. “He suggested that the area where one rat was observed, we should have it thoroughly cleaned.  The day after that, we had contacted a professional cleaning firm that we use…and the room was closed for one day to facilitate the cleaning.  They came the next day and did a thorough cleaning,” he told Barbados TODAY. Leacock said the environmental health inspector from Maurice Byer returned to the correctional centre after the cleaning and expressed his satisfaction with the remedial work. However, the GIS principal admitted that the health official advised them to place a strip at the bottom of the door to the room where the rats were gaining entry; and they did. “That didn’t work…we put a metal one…and it’s a wooden floor. The metal didn’t work. So we are getting a heavy duty rubber strip…and that will satisfy,” the soon-to-be retired senior public officer disclosed. Leacock, who plans to retire from the job he has held for 19 years in November, said there was concern that the rats might have also been entering the facility through the windows which do not have mesh. “You would appreciate you can’t use the fly mesh. So, the maintenance officer at the Project Unit [Ministry of Transport and Maintenance], visited on two occasions last week and he was getting a quotation to get the mesh fabricated,” he said. Leacock also explained that that original type of window, which was built by a company called Meridian, is no longer being manufactured by that firm.   According to him, it would therefore have to be custom-made by another source. While attributing the rat problem to the existence of large tracks of nearby agricultural lands, the GIS head told Barbados TODAY the Ministry’s Project Unit has had to be routinely carrying out maintenance at the correctional institution. He said even with the rodent problem being somewhat remediated, there is still need for additional baiting on the outskirts of the facility. “We will do a heavier baiting on the outskirts. But as I indicated to you, we can’t do the traditional baiting because of our population to have any rat bait exposed…we don’t do that kind of thing on the inside.  So that will be done on the outskirts, the outer boundaries. This is something that we do all the time,” he declared. Leacock also had other concerns with respect to the maintenance issues at the male and female facilities. “One of the challenges that we have had is that, in the recent retrenchment process that Government had, we lost both of our general workers.  The one down there [in St Lucy] and the one up here [in St Philip]… that has affected us obviously. It has affected the girls more so than with the male residents,” he told Barbados TODAY. “And it has been a challenge with the maintenance because there is no day-to-day [work] as we have had in the past. That is out of our purview. So there is not much we can do, so we just have to get creative,” he added. The principal of the centre said management has therefore had to hire private persons to maintain the area as much as possible. A source had earlier told Barbados TODAYthat health inspectors from the Maurice Byer Polyclinic had ordered the administration to close the room and have it cleaned within a specified period. “The rodents are such a pest to staff and the girls, that the girls are taking it upon themselves to kill them with anything in reach when seen. They are climbing through the windows and coming in. The entire place is a mess,” the source close to the institution had said. The informant said the room in question, which stores keys, some medical supplies, toiletries and the switches for the lights, is situated upstairs on the outside of the dorms. (BT)
GIS MOVE LAUDED – Chief Executive Officer (CEO) of Supreme Counselling for Personal Development Shawn Clarke agrees with Government’s move to release several wards of the Government Industrial School (GIS) earlier than scheduled. In fact, he suggests that it’s an “injustice” to send children to the institution for simply “wandering”. However, he is hoping that these children are not sent back to the same home environments which may have contributed to the delinquency that sent them there in the first place. Clarke believes the youths should first be exposed to mandatory counselling and mentorship programmes. Last week, Home Affairs Minister Edmund Hinkson revealed that the number of children at GIS was down to under 30 after another batch of seven from the girls’ and boys’ facililities were released two weeks ago. Hinkson made a strong case for an overhaul of how the criminal justice system treats juveniles, as he addressed the New Directions for Youth Justice Conference, hosted by the University of the West Indies, Cave Hill Campus Institute for Gender and Development Studies the Sagicor Cave Hill School of Business and Management. The Minister said there were now 11 females and 17 males between the two schools, and noted that there were twice that number when he became Minister 30 months ago. “I am quite sure that the Minister would not have released a young person who would have been involved, or suspected to be involved in serious crime. But to have a young person imprisoned at the Government Industrial School (GIS) for something as simple as wandering I think that that is really an injustice to the young person,” Clarke said. “The reality is that you might have a young person who is living in a household where every night there is a lot of quarreling and fighting and there could be a drug trade going on in the home that this child could no longer deal with it. “But to get up and to walk away from what is happening to clear his thoughts might be his only avenue of dealing with the situation. So then to be dragged before the law courts and to be sentenced to the Government Industrial School for two, three, five years for wandering, is an injustice to the child,” he added. However, Clarke said it would be wrong to release the young people from GIS without any kind of mechanism, structure or system put in place to help them. He suggested that the charges should be summoned to report to a psychologist or for some other professional counselling. “After the child has gone through counselling with the psychologist, then we should have a national mentorship programme where that child should be attached to a mentor to work on other social and developmental aspects of his/her life to get that child on the right path.  Hinkson also promised that Government intended to change what he described as an outdated child justice system by the middle of this year, through the tabling of a new Child Justice Bill. (BT)
EX-CONS ‘TO GET BUSINESS START-UP HELP’ – Ex-convicts are to be given a structured opportunity to start-up businesses after they have served their time, Minister of Youth and Community Empowerment Adrian Forde has told Parliament. The Ministry is to roll out a post-prison programme – the Youth Prison Programme, Forde announced today during debate on the Appropriation Bill in the House of Assembly. He said: “Our department started a new programme which will be rolled out over the next couple of weeks. [It] is called the youth prison fellowship programme. “The [Youth] Entrepreneurship Scheme will work with the prison. “They have a programme up there which deals with inmates while they are incarcerated but there is nothing when they come on the outside so it is like dropping or cutting off the umbilical cord prematurely.” The Minister explained how they intend to go about executing the programme. “We will partner with the Prison Association, the Prison Fellowship and we will ensure that those young people will have a chance to have a commercial business space so that they can become entrepreneurs in their own right that they can support themselves and their families,” Forde said. “ It goes back to the old adage: ‘the devil finds work for idle hands to do.’” The Christ Church West Central MP said that figures showed that most inmates become re-offenders. Forde told the House: “The figures are startling to say the least. Sixty per cent of prisoners and if we are talking about 1,000, that’s 600. At least 20 per cent recommitted to prison – these numbers should be at the door front of the concerns of every single body in this room.” He continued: “It means the level of recidivism is very high. “When they go looking for a job and the employer sees that they are an ex-convict there is a barrier there. “We are saying as a ministry and as a good Government to respond to this concern that we will marry our entrepreneurship department. “I spent some time up there (HMP Dodds) the other day speaking at a graduation class and when I saw the talent that those youngsters brought out in terms of the painting the clothing, some who were involved in the cultural aspects of it. “Some were involved in mechanics and agriculture. If you hear the stories of these young men… all they want is an opportunity and a chance and the one thing they will have this opportunity with in society is if we make them small business men… working along with the Trust Loan that will seek to change the way that we deal with the ordinary folk in this country.” (BT)
SURETIES BAIL ON ACCUSED WHO FAILED TO APPEAR IN COURT – In the space of an hour an accused lost three sureties after breaching their trust while two others bowed out of taking on the responsibility of ensuring that he appears at all his court hearing. His time before the District ‘A’ Magistrates’ Court was not a pleasant one for Ravi Sheldon Shankar, of Spencers Gap, Baxters Road, St Michael who had been on three sets of bail. When he appeared before Magistrate Douglas Frederick today he was told that he had been missing court since March last year and a warrant had been out for his arrest. Shankar told the court that he appeared on March 22 but the security guard at the gate told him that his name was not on the list and as such could not walk across the precinct. He claimed that the guard advised him to call the court in order to arrange his business and he did so that day. However, after a female employee told him that his name sounded familiar but he was not on the list she promised to call him back but never did. After giving that explanation the magistrate requested that he get all his sureties to court to settle the matter. The first surety, a childhood friend, had posted bail for him in the sum on $1,500 on a fraud charge. When informed that he had not been attending court the surety replied: “I thought he was coming.” However, the magistrate said “thought” did not suffice under the circumstances as she had given the court an undertaking that she was up for the responsibility. Shankar then told his surety why he missed court but the explanation did not get him any sympathy. With $1,500 in peril the surety seemed hard press on how she would get the funds to the court at the soonest possibility. However, the magistrate gave her a reprieve resulting in the woman making it clear that: “I am not signing bail for him anymore. No, I am not willing to continue”. She was relieved of her duty. The second surety, a man, told the court that he was “in the ground in St Lucy digging potatoes when he received a call from police about Shankar absconding from court. “I was shocked because I expected him to be more responsible. I know him from since he was a little boy. When I spoke to him I was of the impression that he was coming. I didn’t make sure he came but I expected him to come,” the surety who had $2,500 riding on a trespassing and criminal damage charge said. “It was a shocking thing to me.” He too got a reprieve from the court but also bowed out of his duty as a surety. “ I can’t sign again. No, I can’t do it,” he said before signing the necessary documents. A potential surety was also in court but told the magistrate that she kept hearing that Shankar was on three charges and wanted to know the situation before she made any decision. The charges were then read. He is charged that on June 30, 2018 he unlawfully assaulted Tracelyn Bellas. He pleaded not guilty and was granted $1,500 bail. He is further charged that on May 29, 2018 he entered Bellas’ house as a trespasser and damaged a $100 door. He also entered a not guilty plea to that charge and had been on $2,500 ever since. The third charge pending was that he on August 8, 2018 dishonestly made Tropical Print Services Limited his creditor, wait for payment in the amount of $1,931.70 for printing 500 packs of playing cards but failed to pay when called upon to do so. However, the potential surety said Shankar never gave her such details and the charge that he had spoken to her about were none of those. “No I don’t want to stand as surety. He knows me,” she said before she too left the court. The last surety had $2,000 in bail money in limbo. However, she explained that Shankar came to her church for help and she stood bail for him but had not seen him since. “I tried and I tried,” she stated saying that she went as far as to published and have other people publish on social media that she and the church were searching and trying to contact Shankar. “All of his social media was then deleted,” the surety informed the court. When asked whether she was willing to stand bail for him again after hearing his explanation for absconding the woman stated; “Not at all”. Shankar also got an officer to make a telephone call on his behalf but that person too said “no” they would not sign his bail. With no more options available the accused was remanded to HMP Dodds until March 30. “You have to get yourself organised, get a surety,” the magistrate told the accused.   (BT)
CASES DISMISSED AGAINST SISTERS – Evidence given by prosecution witnesses was “at war with each other” in court proceedings against two St Michael sisters. As such Magistrate Douglas Frederick dismissed the matters against Shamar Latoya Carter and Sherece Shanice Carter, both of Princess Royal Avenue, Pinelands, St Michael. Shamar had been charged with failing to obey the lawful order of move and keep moving given by police constable Jamar Yearwood on September 26, 2017. She is also charged with resisting and assaulting him causing him actual harm. Her sister Sherece was charged with obstructing and resisting Yearwood on the same day. They pleaded not guilty and went on trial in the No. 1 District ‘A’ Magistrates’ Court were the prosecution closed the case against them this afternoon after calling the final witness. The sisters opted to remain silent when asked whether they wanted to give evidence in their defence. Magistrate Frederick in handing down the ruling stated that one of the witnesses who said he saw the incident between the officer and the siblings “made a serious error” in identifying the two. Frederick explained that the witness commented on the colourful hair that the sisters were wearing at the time but “mixed up the two of you all”. However, a policeman who gave evidence said “it was the other way around.” “So the prosecution has created doubt. The prosecution was at war with itself,” Magistrate Frederick said before he dismissed the case against the siblings telling them they were free to go. (BT)
FIRE IN ROCK HALL – There was a fire at the Rock Hall squatter village in St Philip late last night. It could not be determined how many houses were affected because of the lack of electricity. At least three fire tenders responded to the incident. More details as they come. (DN)
BASA HEEDS PM’S CALL FOR SWIMMING LESSONS – The Barbados Aquatic Sports Association (BASA) and the National Sports Council have agreed on a proposal that will teach more persons within the community how to swim, says first vice-president of BASA, Madame Justice Cicely Chase-Harding. Delivering the address during the association’s Awards and Dinner ceremony held last night at the Radisson Aquatica Hotel on behalf of BASA president Tony Selby, Chase-Harding said following a meeting on January 2, 2020, with NSC director Neil Murrell, the decision was taken to not only teach individuals how to swim but introduce them to aquatic sports like water polo and artistic swimming.  BASA already has a learn to swim program in collaboration with the Ministry of Education for 40 of the island’s 83 primary schools. However, the decision to create more swimming programs for Barbadians has intensified following an appeal made last year by Prime Minister Mia Mottley.  The Prime Minister’s call came following the drowning of a mother and child in Christ Church, and the rescue of two young boys on the West Coast.  “Clubs associated with BASA have learn to swim programs as part of their development programs and one or two clubs also have adult learn to swim programs.  “This year a meeting was held with Mr. Murrell of the NSC, members of the Barbados water polo club and myself, to review the development of aquatics in Barbados, particularly at the primary and secondary school level,” Chase-Harding noted.  “Coming out of that meeting, Wayne Beckles proposed that one day every two weeks or once a month, be designated toward the teaching of swimming to members of the community, where individuals in the sport give of their time and experience to teach community members how to swim and introduce them to the aquatic sports of water polo and artistic swimming as their skills improve.” During the awards ceremony, Danielle Titus and Olympian Alex Sobers were named Most Outstanding Senior Female and Male swimmers for 2019 respectively. The Most Outstanding Junior Female swimmer went to Toni Walrond and Jaden Lavine captured the male equivalent.  The Barbados Olympic Association’s (BOA) Secretary-General, Erskine Simmons was the featured speaker and revealed that BASA will receive a grant of $130, 000 this year, a significant increase from the $72, 000 paid in 2019. It is among the highest-paid to a national federation.  Simmons also praised BASA for being one of the most efficiently run sports organisations in Barbados.  “You are viewed by my board as one of our very important members and we hope that BASA will be a major player in helping us to achieve the strategic objectives we have developed in our recently approved strategic plan which focuses on five strategic pillars. “These pillars are excellence and passion, transforming lives through sports, building capacity, sustaining our legacy and being a leader among leaders,” he said.  Simmons explained that the BOA is hoping to take approximately 16 athletes to the Tokyo Olympics Games and plans are still on stream despite the global epidemic coronavirus. After a phenomenal year in the pool, Titus and Sobers repeatedly visited the stage after their names were announced for numerous awards. The 17-year-old Titus broke several records and is one of the most talented backstrokers in Barbados. She appears destined to ensure her name is written among the list of Barbadian swimming greats which include the likes of three-time Olympian Nicholas Neckles who received special recognition for his three world masters records set last year in Gwangju, Korea, where he won three gold medals at the World Master Swimming Championships.  Among the list of prizes received for her accomplishments last year, Titus captured the trophy for the Most Outstanding Swimmer at CARIFTA Games named after another Barbadian Olympian great, Leah Martindale. The Victor Norville Memorial trophy for Most Outstanding Swim in the 100m backstroke and top performer at the Central American and Caribbean Swimming Federation (CCCAN) also went to Titus.  The St. Michael School student was not finished as she collected an award for Best Overall Female performance at the Pan American Games and FINA World Championship held in Korea.  Sobers was adjudged Top Male Performer for Pan American and CCCAN, while Jack Kirby stood out at the FINA World Championship.  Other outstanding swimmers were recognised for their achievements, including Kaiel Johnson who was named the Most Motivated Swimmer for Goodwill 2019, along with Amiya Harrison and Nikolai Sisnett – both eight and under competitors – who were named Most Valuable Female and Male swimmers respectively for Goodwill.  The award for Best Overall Female and Male performances at the FINA World Junior Championships went to Danielle Treasure and Tristan Pragnell respectively. Olivia Treasure had the Best Performance for artistic swimming and Samaiyah Forde was the Most Improved.  For water polo, in the 18 and Under division, Luke Kelshall was the Most Dedicated and Lamar Mayers named Most Improved, while In the 16 and Under, Nathan Walker was Most Dedicated and Marcus Whittington won the award for Most Improved.  FINA’s Sonia O’Neal was named Official of the Year while Coach of the Year went to Akeem Nurse (water polo);  Fiona Bethell (artistic swimming) and Darny Hernandez Olade of swimming. (BT)
WALES GO TOP WITH WIN OVER EMPIRE – Former two-time champions Weymouth Wales have opened up a three-point lead at the top of the standings after earning a hard-fought 2-1 victory against Empire when the Coca-Cola Premier League continued last night at the Wildey AstroTurf. The victory propelled the Renaldo ‘PeeWee’ Gilkes coached Wales to 13 points. They had previously been tied with Premiere Classe Paradise at the top of the table. The lads from Carrington Village were handed the lead after an own goal scored by Empire’s marksman Arjuan Bourne in the fifth minute. Substitute Ray Snagg, brought on for Nathan Skeete in the 54th minute, capitalised on a defensive blunder at the back by Empire and scored the winner in the 70th minute. Claytons Kola Tonic Notre Dame wormed their way into third position after snatching a 2-1 thriller and handing second placed Paradise their first defeat of the season on Saturday. Five red cards were shared out during that dramatic encounter. Notre Dame’s Zeco Edmee who scored a brace in the 28th and 49th minutes was sent off during injury time, while his teammates Carl Joseph and Shane Mottley (85th) and Jeneico Baptiste in the 88th were also dismissed. Senior national midfielder Jomo Harris was the only Paradise player to be sent off. Paradise’s lone goal of the night came through Jabbary ‘Papi’ Chandler in the 38th minute. Wales, Paradise and Notre Dame all sit in the top three of the standings ahead of defending champions Barbados Defence Force Sports Programme who flogged University of the West Indies Blackbirds 5-1 during yesterday’s opening encounter. BDFSP’s utility player Rashad Smith got the ball rolling with the opener in the 27th minute. From there on the soldiers scored goals frequently as senior national captain Rashad Jules accounted for a brace in the 34th and 35th minutes. Fellow national player Omani Leacock registered one in the 44th and Nicholas Best added number five in the 54th. National Under-20 captain Niall Reid-Stephens produced UWI’s lone goal in the 79th minute. BDFSP are in fourth position on nine points, just ahead of fifth-place Deacons Football Club (seven points ) who were also victorious yesterday in the second game of the evening. Deacons defeated Brittons Hill 2-0 with a goal each from Shaquon Haynes (36th) and Keon Atkins in the 60th. (BT)
ROACH BOWLS PRIDE TO VICTORY – Keron Cottoy’s maiden first class hundred was in vain as Test seamer Kemar Roach snatched a six-wicket haul to spearhead Barbados Pride’s emphatic 127-run victory over Windward Islands Volcanoes yesterday. Resuming the final day at Kensington Oval on 73 for three chasing 398 for an unlikely victory, Volcanoes were dismissed for 271 in their second innings about 20 minutes before tea. Cottoy, batting at number seven struck a superb unbeaten 103 while Alick Athanaze chipped in with 33 at number three and Ryan John made 28. Entering with his side in trouble at 100 for five, Cottoy struck a dozen fours and four sixes off 114 balls in just over two and a half hours to keep the innings afloat. Roach, with two wickets in the first innings, finished with six for 84 to end the sixth round encounter with match figures of eight for 147. Fast bowler Keon Harding supported with three for 65 to follow up his two wickets in the first innings and move his season tally to 28. Much of Volcanoes’ hopes of a miracle rested on veteran Devon Smith but he failed to add to his overnight 16, falling to the fifth delivery of the day when he was lbw to Roach before the visitors had also added. Three wickets then went down for 41 runs to leave Volcanoes stumbling on 114 for six before lunch and they needed a 46-run seventh wicket stand between Cottoy and John to reach the interval without further loss. Cottoy also put on 50 for the eighth wicket with Ray Jordan (10) and 45 for the last with Josh Thomas (15) as Volcanoes resisted in the second session. (BT)
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Stephen Curry, Fully in the Swing
PORTLAND, Ore. — This has been a postseason of sacrifice for Stephen Curry — off the court. Such is the lingering severity of the recently dislocated finger on Curry’s left hand that he hasn’t played golf on a single off day.
That is no small concession for Curry, either. Sneaking away to a nearby course for a few hours between games on the road, typically accompanied by his Golden State Warriors teammate Andre Iguodala and the front-office executive Jonnie West, is Curry’s go-to move for recharging himself mentally.
Yet it turns out that Curry is doing just fine on the floor without two healthy hands or the usual retreats to his favorite sanctuary. An injury that hampers his ability to grip a golf club could not prevent Curry from uncorking the most dominant playoff series of his career in the Western Conference finals.
In the process, Curry didn’t merely hush a legion of naysayers regularly critical of his postseason play. He also reminded us just how much of the Warriors’ offense he has surrendered over the past three seasons, without complaint, to accommodate Kevin Durant’s one-on-one brilliance.
With Durant forced to miss this entire series with a strained calf, and a historic fifth consecutive trip to the N.B.A. finals on the line, Curry turned back the clock to score 36, 37, 36 and finally 37 points in a four-game sweep of the Portland Trail Blazers. In Monday night’s 119-117 overtime triumph to finish poor Portland off, Curry teamed with Draymond Green to deliver a decisive pair of triple-doubles, something no two teammates had ever done in the same N.B.A. playoff game.
“We’re a Superteam for a reason,” Golden State’s Klay Thompson said, paying tribute to Curry, Green and everyone who fell in line behind them as the Warriors erased a double-digit deficit for the third straight game.
When the comeback was clinched, Curry shared two warm embraces and exchanged jerseys near the scorer’s table with his younger brother Seth Curry, whose Blazers couldn’t hold a 17-point lead this time.
“I’m glad it’s over,” Dell Curry, Stephen and Seth’s father, said wearily as he leaned against a wall outside the Golden State locker room.
Watching their sons duel for a spot in the N.B.A. finals proved more stressful than Dell Curry and his wife, Sonya, ever imagined. But Dell, himself a 16-year N.B.A. veteran, couldn’t refrain from marveling at Stephen’s consistency in leading Golden State, down two injured starters, to a fifth consecutive finals.
All this started, remember, with 33 points in the second half of the Game 6 clincher at Houston, after Stephen Curry was scoreless against the Rockets in the first half in Golden State’s first full game without Durant.
“Steph’s bar is so high that I don’t know if anything he does is ever enough,” Dell Curry said, referring to those in the news media who questioned whether the Warriors could really cope without Durant.
“He played like a superstar tonight and this whole series.”
To augment the tireless Green’s 18 points, 14 rebounds and 11 assists — in what may be concurrently recorded as the best series of Green’s career as well — Curry mustered 13 rebounds and 11 assists to go with those 37 points. To take it up another notch, Curry played every second of the second half and overtime.
Warriors Coach Steve Kerr was clearly taking no chances in a closeout game in which the visitors, beyond missing Durant and DeMarcus Cousins, also had to cope without the injured Andre Iguodala (calf).
The Warriors likewise had to overcome the game of Meyers Leonard’s life — Leonard pumped in 25 of his career-best 30 points by halftime — and break a season-long overtime hex. Golden State had somehow been winless in all six of its previous overtime games and wasn’t safe in this one until Damian Lillard (28 points and 12 assists while hampered by a separated rib) missed a contested 3-pointer from the right corner that could have won it for the Blazers.
Curry gave a hint of his determination to avoid a Game 5 by ringing up 8 points in the final 30 seconds of the first half to match Leonard’s total of 25 by intermission. Then, late in the extra period, assist No. 11 came when a swarmed Curry found Green on the right wing for Green’s only 3-pointer — good for a 119-115 lead.
“Draymond is just a big-game player and Steph trusted him, and that was obviously the shot of the game,” Kerr said. “They are kind of made for each other from a basketball standpoint.”
So make that 10 consecutive postseason wins over the Blazers — and a spot alongside the Bill Russell-led Boston Celtics of the 1950s and ’60s as the only teams in league history to reach five successive finals.
Curry’s sterling résumé still lacks a finals M.V.P. trophy, yet it’s clear that the dislocated finger he sustained against Houston early in the last round won’t be the obstacle that stops him at the fifth attempt.
As the Warriors’ spiritual compass, Green will be a worthy contender, too, should the Warriors manage to win their fourth title in five seasons. Durant, of course, was widely hailed as the best player in these playoffs before his scary setback and could conceivably make it back to work in the next round. Golden State, after all, just bought itself nine days of rest before the finals begin May 30 against the Milwaukee/Toronto winner.
None of that, though, should detract from the fact that Curry has been better than ever since Durant went down, amid the pressure of keeping a dynasty in operation and no shortage of uncertainty about the Warriors’ future thanks to Durant’s impending free agency.
Portland’s roster has too many holes compared to Houston’s, Milwaukee’s or Toronto’s to waste too much time pondering the debate du jour about Durant and whether he’s a luxury or necessity for Golden State as it chases a three-peat. Neither the Bucks nor Raptors figure to be as vulnerable to conceding big leads, so leave that one for the morning TV talk shows.
The smarter declaration, after watching Curry’s backcourt play alongside Thompson keep Lillard and CJ McCollum firmly in their shadow, is proclaiming Steph to be the league’s ultimate team-first franchise player.
“It starts with him,” Iguodala said of Curry. “More than anything, he always has good intentions.
“DeMarcus came in and was here for a couple months and he told Steph, ‘Bro, you are the most regular superstar I’ve ever seen — and that’s a compliment.’”
There’s little doubt that the load Durant carries (when healthy) has enabled Curry to be fresher for his late-season exertions than he’s ever been — hand injury aside. Yet it was repeatedly evident against the Blazers that A) Portland still has little answer for Golden State’s size and pace and B) many of us have undersold the selfless manner in which Curry has dialed back his offense when needed to prioritize Durant’s comfort level.
After Golden State’s Game 3 comeback at Moda Center, Curry openly lamented how much he misses golf these days, responding glumly to a question on the matter with a one-word confirmation: “Facts.”
Said Iguodala: “Some people say we play too much, but there’s no such thing. We’ve actually found something that we can get mentally engaged in away from what causes all the stress.”
Rest assured that the Warriors will never take issue with their hobby when Curry is back swinging his woods and wedges — grateful for everything their incomparable point guard has routinely ceded on the court in the chase for more championships.
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