#could not be bothered with this scrum at all

[drysaladandketchup]

EDM vs. MIN || Oct 24, 2023

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Eat The Acid

Summary: Reader is the wife of CM Punk and the twin sister of Nick Jackson. The brawl that occurred between The Elite and Punk leads to a messy divorce between the two. Y/n hates the fact that a part of her still loves Phill but can’t even look at him without thinking about the fight.

Warnings include: Swearing, violence, toxic relationships, manipulation and those kinds of things 

Word count: 1645

Eat The Acid II Eat The Acid III Main Masterlist CM PUNK Masterlist

Inspired by "Eat The Acid" By Kesha

When people think of the brawl they think of CM Punk VS The Elite. This whole situation surrounding Phill and Adam, this everlasting hatred that has formed between the Elite and Punk but people forgot about me. Not once have I heard anything about me. I’m not saying this for attention but people don’t understand how difficult this whole situation has been for me. Being the sister of the young bucks and the wife of cm punk put me in a difficult position. I saw first hand how the whole fight played out. I had heard the media scrum and it made me sick. Phill and I had spent the past few months arguing, it really bothered me hearing him shit on Hangman. I didn’t understand the hate towards him. I knew that once we got home I would talk to him about his choice of words at the media scrum. I sat in the private locker room crying, my twin brother Nick comforting me. I told him how I didn’t think I could do it anymore, yes Phill is my husband but the elite is my family. The two of us had been seeing a marriage counselor, and a therapist, an idea that Phill hated. I just wanted to better understand the situation, how I could help Phill. 

I heard the locker room door swing open and was greeted by ace steel who started yelling and destroying the locker room. Just then I saw Phill enter. Look in my eyes, what do you see? Well looking into his eyes I could see the pure rage in them, I couldn't even recognize him. I couldn't move, my body frozen in fear as I watched the whole situation unfold before my eyes. People were screaming, punching, biting, trying to kill each other. I could faintly hear someone yell for me to watch out, Nick grabbing me and pulling me to the ground in order to avoid a chair that was being thrown right at me. As I hit the floor reality set in, that was not any chair but some crazy decided to throw an office chair at my head, barely missing me. Looking up I saw regret in Phills eyes, he was crying. The whole room went quiet, realizing that he was the one to throw the chair. I quickly got up and grabbed my purse and phone, trying to get out of the room as fast as I could, tears continuing to fall. Phill stopped me in my tracks, pulling me towards him. He wrapped his arms around me holding me close, I was frozen, stiff as a board. He whispered sweet nothings and kept apologizing, kissing my forehead, saying he loved me and he didn’t know what came over him. I tried to break free of his grasp and he eventually gave up, letting me go but the look in his eyes terrified me. 

Just then security finally came into the room escorting everyone out of the arena. I spent that night with Kenny, it was like our old days in Japan sharing a hotel room. The both of us were silent, still trying to process what had happened. I knew I wanted a divorce, this was the final straw but even if the other things didn’t happen I would have still filed for a divorce after the brawl. Is it bad that if this happened with anyone else I wouldn't have cared, it was the fact that this involved my family that made me so mad. For god sakes Matt and Nick are his brother in laws. I ignored Phill’s calls, his texts, I knew I needed a break. The suspension didn’t surprise me, we all knew it was coming but it sucked that Kenny, Nick and Matt became the first ever trios champions, only to get them taken away 24hrs later. The news articles came fast, everyone talking about the situation. I didn’t even bother coming home, I got the first flight out of Chicago to California. I knew Phill would know I would try to escape to our Cali home so I packed all of my things and Matt was kind enough to let me stay with him for the time being. 

It took me three months to see him again. Around christmas time Phill and I went back to our therapy sessions. I could tell that he was genuinely sorry but I could never look at him the same after what happened. I didn’t want a divorce, I loved him but the situation tore my family apart, it got to the point where I couldn't take it anymore. Divorce was the best option even though it would make things worse. Phill was my husband, we shared so much together, he helped me feel feelings that I lost years ago. He knew my past, he knew my trauma, never once judging me for it, instead helping me through an episode. That’s what made this so hard, my brain blocked out all the negatives in him, so in love, ignoring the flaws yet that fight remains clear as day, I will never forget it, no matter how hard I try. Matt and Nick were my brothers, Kenny and Adam were like family, they were there for me longer than Phill was. I would always pick them but I felt so guilty about it. They helped me through the situation with Phill, believe it or not they encouraged me to try and make amends with him despite legally not being allowed within 10 ft from another. 

***

We continued therapy once a week for another 6 months, just before he would come back to AEW and join Collision, the show we made for him, in order to keep everyone separate. I was there backstage representing the EVPs when the show made its debut. I watched from a backstage monitor as Phill made his return, the Chicago crowd going crazy for him. I saw that spark in his eyes that was lost long ago, it killed me watching him perform. I was so proud of him, but also angry. We mutually agreed on a divorce despite still loving the other, he loved me more but it didn’t matter what he said or did I would always go back to the fight. I was mad that he made me leave. How hard was it to get along with everyone?  It took us several sessions to even be able to be in the same room as the other without screaming at eachother, constantly arguing, hating the other. 

***

As the weeks went on everything actually seemed to be going well. From my knowledge everyone had been getting along quite well despite what went on once collision went off the air. All In was soon approaching and things actually looked like they might be able to go back to normal but of course that would be a lie. I was informed about the fight with Perry right before we went on air for the PPV. In a way I found it funny, of course there was another fight, did he not learn his lesson the first time? Despite the fight it was too late to change the card as I heard cult of personality starting to play on the speakers. This time the fight was over a spot with real glass. It was a stupid fight but it was fine, Perry deserved it. I’m honestly surprised it didn’t happen before, the kid needed a reality check. Unfortunately this would be the last straw for Phill and it looked like this time he would get fired for his actions. Perry might have provoked the fight but Punk was the first to lay hands. On one hand I felt bad for Phill the other I found it pathetic and hilarious. Security was waiting for the match to be over, ready to escort Phill out of the building due to his actions. 

I stood next to them, Tony wanting me to talk to him about the situation. 

“Was it worth it?” I asked Phill as he entered the backstage area, successfully defending a title that wouldn't even matter in a few days.

“Who else can say they beat the shit out of Perry minutes before opening the biggest wrestling show of all time” Phill said with a soft laugh “And winning might I add”

“This isn’t funny” I told him “Why don’t you give a shit? Do you know how hard I had to work to not get you fired the first time? I built you your own god dam show and this is how you repay me?” I yelled 

“I don’t see the same person I loved when I look at you anymore.” I told him, not even caring that all of our co-workers were watching the whole scene unfold before their eyes. 

“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry. I can’t change what happened between the two of us but if I could take it all back I would, I love you Y/n” He said in a soft tone as he tried to get closer to me, security holding him in place. 

I could see the crazy look in his eyes, it was the same look I saw during the brawl. “You don’t love me, if you loved me you wouldn't have started this shit in the first place. I don’t care how many times you beg for my forgiveness, you can’t take back what you said.” 

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry I hurt you” 

“I really wish things could have worked between us. I hate you. Get him out of here” and with that security escorted him out of the building. I could feel all the eyes on me, people in shock of what just happened.

[mystic-story-lover]

~ It Should’ve Been Me ~

Jay White x Unnamed Female!Reader 

Word Count: 1,800 

Warnings: N/A 

Type: Angst & Fluff 

Summary: After losing to MJF at Full Gear, Jay becomes jealous seeing her around him 

A/n: Two for one on a ppv 

~~~ 

“How is he?” Adam asked, shifting his head at Jay in the catering area. 

“It’s not great, to put it lightly.” She sighed.  

For the past few weeks, Jay had kidnapped the Triple B, and tonight it was on the line against Maxwell. For the most part, it seemed that Jay would be okay with losing, but watching him after the match proved otherwise. Maybe it wasn’t the losing that bothered him as much as it was that he wanted the belt. He proved himself of all the things he wanted in Japan, and now in his first title match he fell short, no matter how hard he tried to beat his opponent. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt disappointed in a loss, but this one was different to him. This time, it wasn’t just about putting on a good show for the fans or proving that he could do something. No, this time it was about her. Her with the smile that lit up any room she entered, the gorgeous eyes that he always seemed to get lost in, the outgoing personality that made him fall for her in the first place. He realized his feelings for her when the first person he wanted to celebrate his Wembley win was with her, but he hadn’t told her that. 

“Want me to talk with him?” She shook her head at Adam’s question. 

Sure, they were good friends, both admitted to that, but right now she wanted to be the one to comfort him. It wasn’t often she saw him like this, bummed about anything, so she wanted to help him, even if he’d be cocky about it. After hearing they were ready for him on the Media Scrum, Adam left, giving her a reassuring smile. Once she knew he was safely out of the room, she began walking towards the table that he’d been sitting at for the past ten minutes.  

“Jay?” Her voice laced with worry, catching his attention quickly. 

“Hey, what’s up?” The emotion of discouraged still lingered on his face, and she felt awful about it. 

“I was wondering if you wanted to talk about your match.” He shook his head.  

There was no eye contact, just the empty awkward silence filling the air. Jay knew he needed to say something, anything, to her. Yet, he couldn’t get a single word out. Unsure if it was fear or if it was simply his nerves, Jay stood, wanting to leave so he could think. Normally, he didn’t mind doing it when she was around, but this time, when it was about her, he wanted to be alone. 

“I’ve got to go.” He left without another word, leaving her confused. 

Not thinking too much of it, she turned and left for the media area. After his questionnaire ended, Max would be leaving from the right side. Since Jay left, she decided to meet the champ when he was done. Scrolling through her Instagram account, she almost missed the sound of his laugh filling the room when he entered.  

“Hey! What are you doing here?” It was clear he was in pain, the sound throughout his tone. 

“I was waiting for you. How’s the leg?” He groaned at her question, giving her the answer, she needed. “Alright, so that’s a not great.” 

He laughed at her joke, causing her to smile. They’d been friends for a few years now, most of the time keeping it off social media. Max was this entitled heel on screen, but the man she knew, he was different. He’d been kind to her when she needed a friend, and that’s how it started for them.  

“So first you’re going to keep that title from me, and now her too huh?” Jay yelled it, and even though it was a question, to her it sounded less like that. In her mind, Jay was angry, but she didn’t understand why. 

“What are you talking about man?” Max called back; his fists clenched. 

“You know what I’m talking about Friedman. Since you’re out here stealing my girl from me too!” His exclamation led to all eyes on her, and she felt tears in her eyes. Without saying anything, she took off for her car, not bothering to grab any of her stuff before leaving. 

For a while, she drove in silence, not really having a destination in mind. What had Jay been talking about when he called her his girl? Even an hour later she still didn’t have the answer to her question, and she knew there was only one place to get it. Once she pulled her car into a gas station, her phone dinged letting her know someone texted her. Grabbing it to see who, she noticed it was from the one man she needed to talk to. He wanted to talk, if she was willing, and he also had let her know that he brought her stuff back to the hotel room for her. In her zone of driving, she’d forgotten all about her things, including her camera with all the photos she’d taken during the show. In the morning she would message Tony about bringing them for him to see, since she left before he’d finished with the scrum. Thinking of a plan, and falling short, she’d decided to return to the hotel. 

“Jay, are you still awake?” He flipped the switch on his beside lamp, signaling to her that he was.

“I waited for an hour at the arena for you.” His words were gentle. They’d always been with her, tonight being the exception. “Then I waited two more hours here for you to come back. When it hit the two-hour mark, I thought you decided to crash with Max.”

“I’m right here.” She whispered softly, and he nodded his head. A sniffle could be heard from where she sat on her bed. “We need to talk about what happened.”

Jay rolled so he could face her, his bare chest exposed from the lack of blanket. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen him shirtless any other time they shared a room, but after what he said tonight, it felt different. 

“I’m sorry, especially about the yelling--” His words trailed off as he focused on pulling himself into a sitting position. “I know that you’re probably confused.” 

She nodded, not saying anything else in case he wanted to keep explaining. 

“I’ve lost belts, and I’ve lost title matches, but tonight was different than those times. Before, I was trying to prove to the audience that I was the best in the world. Tonight, it wasn’t about proving myself to them, at least not in my eyes.” Another sniffle came, and Jay turned his head to look at her again. She noticed the red puffy eyes, informing her that he’d been crying recently.  

“When you step into a ring, people know who you are, there isn’t anything that needs proven.” A small smile appeared on her face, an effort to comfort him. 

At this, he chuckled, knowing that while it may seem that way, it wasn’t how he saw it. “There was, and I failed to do it. It got to me, and I let it trample over my emotions.” 

“If it wasn’t the crowd, then who did you want to prove it to?” He smiled at her, and he went to speak before her phone rang out. Checking it, she frowned, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation any. “It’s Max, but I don’t have to answer it.” He shook his head and leaned to turn off his lamp. 

When her phone fell silent, his motions stopped. They sat in silence for a moment, neither sure what to say to the other. It was he who’d been the first to break it. 

“I wanted to prove it to you.” Jay released a breath after his admission, giving her time to process what he’d said. 

“Why me?” Now was the hard part of the conversation, at least how she saw it. He’d say something about needing everyone to say he was the best, as an ego boost, but it wouldn’t be what she’d want. 

“The way I feel about you.” He sucked in a breath before continuing. “When I won at Wembley, you were the first person I ran to backstage. I wanted you to celebrate and be happy with me. At All Out when BCG won, you were there waiting for me. I’d been so frustrated with how my hair was sticking to me, and you took the time to brush it out of my face. Each time something happens, I want to share it with you.” 

“Jay, I didn’t know you felt this way.” She whispered. 

“I didn’t expect you to, if I’m being honest. Seeing you with him tonight, it caused me to get jealous, and I just snapped.” Her laugh at his words caught him by surprise, but he smiled. 

“Well, I’m impressed with you in the ring.” He laughed at that. “I’m also impressed with who you are outside the ring. The kind of guy who’ll wait a total of three hours for you, the guy who’ll share his emotions with you, even if he doesn’t like them. That’s the version of you that I want to celebrate wins with, brush hair from your face, and share memories with.” 

“As friends?” His question was expected, since she hadn’t flat out admitted things the way he had. 

“I was thinking as your girl, since Max can’t take me away from the guy I like.” Without even finishing her sentence, Jay had the blanket off and was standing in front of her. When she did finish, he leaned down and kissed her, both hands coming to cup her face.  

The kiss was filled with passion, one that she’d feel on her lip's hours later. When he pulled away, his hands stayed, holding her like she was the most perfect thing to him. 

“I hope that was okay.” He whispered, lips barely above hers. 

“It was perfect.” She smiled at him, and he kissed her again. “Come on, let’s lay in bed.” 

“You don’t want to shower first?” He asked, but she shook her head. 

“Well, I’d like to lay in bed with my man, but I seem to be missing that title for someone.” A giggle left her lips as Jay kissed her for a third time. 

“You got me there. How about I ask you with more of these kisses I’ve been giving for free.” He teased. 

She nodded; a playful grin lay on her face as they crawled into bed. Jay rolled slightly, turning off the lamp, and kept his end of the bargain, filling her night with kisses as his girl.  

[ratatatastic]

a shorty poked in by monty on a barky pass in front of the net makes it 6-1 cats

a scrum ensues when monty grabs marchys attention and cellys in front of him

boston bruins @ florida panthers game 2 | 5.8.24

and the misconduct call to which the ref could not be bothered to name every player and just went "all 4 guys have a 10 minute misconduct"

[sabakos]

if the poly people stopped doing business management techniques to their relationships we'd all die of a virus contracted from an unmanaged relationship?

Re: this post

I just want to structure my life so I never interact with these types of people ever. These are the latter-day Golgafrinchan telephone sanitizers.

Yeah, that's the right reference, I'm saying that the types of people who apply business management to their relationships are the same as the primordial Earth people from Life, the Universe and Everything who are the useless third of the population.

The Golgafrinchans realised that were three types of beings on the planet of Golgafrincham: the leaders (or thinkers), the workers (or doers), and the middlemen.

The leaders contained the artists and "achievers". The workers were the people who "did all the actual work", and who made and did things. The middle management was comprised of hairdressers, telephone sanitisers, and other such "worthless jobs."

The middlemen were sent off, told that the other Golgafrinchans would follow soon, however they remained on the planet with no intention of leaving. The middlemen stayed in space for a long period of time, with many on board in suspended animation for the majority of the journey, with the exception of the Captain and his Number One and Number Two. This third class eventually crashed onto Earth, while the other two-thirds of their society on Golgafrincham lived full, rich and happy lived until they were all suddenly killed off by a raging disease contracted from a dirty telephone.

But I wasn't thinking a dirty telephone per se, I think that's really a metaphor. It's just, the whole joke Douglas Adams is setting up is that these middlemen are the people who went on to settle Earth and that's why we have so many people like that. But he could have left the joke there, and not added the line about how actually all the other Golgafrinchans died off as "revenge" for their crime. It's some nice poetic justice I think that he bothered to put that in there at the end.

And back in the real world, there's a decent chance that all these agile and scrum people are good for something that would cause our society to fall apart if they weren't around. They don't seem to be slacking off enough to be putting one over on the rest of us, so it's interesting to imagine that the kind of person who sees dreary project management cruft and thinks "golly gee this will help me with my relationship problems" provides some value to society. Even though unlike the "workers" and the "achievers" it's hard to comprehend just what that value might be. But it's probably something? Some percentage of them might not be a total waste of space and a drag on the rest of us. Probably.

I don't have to like them, though....

[katsiperennial]

“I jerk off left-handed, at least that's something.”

“Is it?” Pansy arched a brow as the wizard in front of her evidently attempted some sort of pick up line. She was at the Ministry of Magic’s annual Valentine's Day gala.

She wasn’t an employee—heaven forbid—but the Parkinson name had been muddied by the war, and here she was trying to scrum up some husband from the Ministry ranks.

She observed Draco across the Hall, flirting blatantly with Hermione Granger, while each pretended that they didn’t have the foggiest idea of what they were doing. Bloody idiots.

Pansy was happy for her friend slash ex—really, she was—but Draco got to go on and woo someone interesting after their relationship ended, while she was stuck with this half-balding, snivelling sub-head of the Department of Who Gives a Fuck on Floor Oh Fuck Off Already.

Suddenly supremely annoyed, she turned her attention back to this lumpy joke of a person, who immediately shrunk seeing the change in her expression. She smiled sweetly—or was it menacingly? She was never sure—and asked, “Tell me—Charles, was it?—has that ever worked before?”

The wizard cleared his throat. “Erm, I, I mean...”

“Oh, don’t tell me.” Pansy groaned and set her cocktail down on the marble countertop of the bar, rounding on him. “Is this your first time talking with a witch in this century?”

“Well, actually….” He mumbled. “My wife and I just di—”

“Divorced?” She practically squeaked. “I can’t even get a bloody fresh one? I’m stuck with some witches bloody leftovers?”

“I mean... I... If you would just—”

“Save it,” Pansy sneered, snatching her purse from the table and scanning the crowd for the first face she recognized. There must be someone—bloody anybody—who could save her from this miserable—

“Longbottom!” she suddenly called.

A man much taller than she remembered turned at the sound of his name, and she was almost taken aback by how fit he’d become, all broad-shouldered and strong-jawed.

She didn’t have time to linger on this development. She stormed toward him and laced her arm through his. “Walk with me.”

“But I was just—“

“I’m sure whatever gung-ho bother you were talking about with Patricia Whatshername and her boring husband can wait. I need you.”

“But we’re not—”

“Friends?” she challenged.

His ears turned red—not in an unattractive way at all—“As it stands, no,” he said. 

“And isn’t saving people how you Gryffindors go about making friends?" She smiled sweetly, or again menacingly. Damn, she wished she could sort those two out. “Now, help. Me. Out," she said through clenched teeth.

Menacing then, definitely menacing.

But, instead of cowering, he blinked at her once, twice, and slipped a hand around her waist. His body was firm as he pulled her tight against him. Merlin, he has nice hands, she thought feeling the pressure of them against her stomach.

He lowered his mouth to her ear and said, “So, how about a drink then, Parkinson?”

[mythgrippa-blog]

Another morning

Alright, where do I start. Perhaps with the app I've been working on with my team. Alright, where do I start with that... think think think...

I'm the technical lead for university year long project (its actually 6 months, so I don't know why they would call it a year project) and its essentially a capstone project for my computer science degree.

My team is composed of 5 people, including myself and 4 of those members I've been in another terminal war simulator C++ project with last year and the other member I've met and teamed up with this year.

When we first decided to team up, I didn't want to be group leader again because I'm simply not a leader! Its way too much pressure having to manage people and making sure everyone is doing their work, and in hindsight I still think someone else in my group should have been a leader because I don't like these responsibilities! I'm a techie, an introvert! PICKING ME TO BE A LEADER?!?!? ARE YOU INSANE??

But nobody else wanted and I hate how everyone thought I was just playing hard to get, bro I'm simply not like that! But alas I gave in since no one bothered to step up, the only leadership quality I think I have is my refusal to fail and my clear sight to a goal. And also my ability to go beyond my limits even if detrimental to my mental health

So, what was the project that I've someone ended up as a leader for? Well, the project was an event photo sharing app and our client was a software engineer from a popular tech company in my country.

We met up with them, discussed ideas for the project, tried my best to encourage my team for the most grueling 5-6 months of their lives and got to work!

Being a project manager/leader is super hard like oh my goodness, I had to make sure there were constant meetings and that we followed scrum agile framework, it was really hard managing because getting people to do work is not one of my skill sets, I've always been a solo leveler but now I have to tell others what to do. Its hard to enforce accountability for work not done when your members are also friends.

What I wanted for my team is for them to have fun, learn something that can make them more valuable in the long run and ultimately build something they're proud of. Those are the values I tried for but its very hard if nobody listens to me and it feels like a chore to them.

My role was mostly technical leading as in most of the technical decisions were made by me, and also technical support as in if you ran into an issue come to me and I'll help or lead you to someone who can help, and I was also DevOps as in I built the whole CI/CD pipeline for our project with automatic builds, tests and deployments (I've never done this before so I had to learn and learn a lot of github actions), I was also sort of doing full stack (backend/service engineer and integration engineer and ui engineer) and also involved in training an AI model which in the end didn't work but we found a nice python solution. As you can imagine, I was having a lot on my plate? more like table and all had to be done

The team focused towards the 4 demos we had, each demo was a sort of deliverable where we had to have a certain percentage of the app requirements done. It was exhausting work, I had to work so many nights and give up weeks of holidays and recess to get it done, I started eating more and sleeping less, moving less, always on my computer, coding and designing, day in day out, sacrificing family time to make progress for the sake of the project, why? because I don't want to fail, it was no longer for sake of making the best app in the world, somewhere down the line of development it was no longer for the fun of it, it was for survival. This felt like a Herculean challenge, as if I was Sisyphus or something, it was all I could think about. I thought this project would finally be the time I enjoy myself but it ended with me having to rush to meet deadlines. Pushing myself to the very limit.

I won't lie, I was starting to feel hate inside my heart because I was burning myself out. Before the project began, one of the assistant lecturers mentioned that the projects will be tough and that it may ruin friendships, I didn't think much of it but now I'm just shook at my team. Not because deadlines weren't being met but because I was being ignored, I felt like I was being an inconvenience, like I was just taking time away from them and when the demo was getting closer and then all so suddenly they look at me like why things weren't finished. I'm sorry but we have deadlines for a reason!!! And now we have to do crunch time and I look like a bad guy.

But those feelings so mostly dissipated in our 4th demo because that was it, our supposed final demo, at least where the app is supposed to be at 100% complete. We finished all of the required features and tried adding extra, and what was the result? Well you can go and see for yourself

This is what we were presenting, the presentation went alright, better than the first 3 but I wasn't satisfied because there were some features I wanted to add but couldn't since we had to make sure the parts we did have were working. We were presenting to our lecturers, not the module lecturers but lecturers for the whole computer science degree, so we were a bit shaky.

The presentation went alright, two of my members have a dynamic, one of my engineers had a Steve Jobs like talent and the other was a quick learner and were very good at hiding their fears. The lecturers asked us questions, there's something I noticed about these questions... they were ignited by our presentation, but thats something for later. The questions were essentially based on what they taught us in the last couple of years since the degree began in first year and as final years were we able to apply what they taught us.

We were able to answer most of the questions with confidence, however one of my lecturers wasn't happy with our implementation of microservices. But other than that, it wasn't anything major, we did our best. And now we can stop working on the project.

There's a fifth demo in case our 4th demo didn't go well, meaning that we have to make improvements to the app, but we haven't got the results yet. In the mean time, we are focusing on our other modules.

Well I think I've said enough about the project. I'll write more later on what I'm going to do with this new free time because its crazy how much free time we have without this project. I am happy my team was able to push themselves, I've always wanted to be part of a development team where we all code and eat pizza together while working on the app. Discussing ideas with each member and how they should be implemented. This experience was valuable and I don't believe it would have been possible if I wasn't the group leader or with these lovable goof balls.

I do have anger issues, but the normal amount of anger, you know when your buttons get pressed so much, I was the only technical support! I felt like an overworked gateway service! Oh my goosh I was just mad. But hey, there's a good and bad to this, all you need to know I won't be doing any more group leaderly stuff hopefully and I'm not going to be involved in software development for a while and I'm retiring. Its off to cybersecurity now.

I'll let you know how the results are, but my next post will come out shortly

[yangsbandana]

What positions would the other girls have played?

had to go bother my wife about this one because i forgot and so did she but here is what we could dredge up from memory:

yang - flanker

blake - scrum-half (replacing pyrrha who going to do track instead during the spring season)

ruby - fly-half

weiss - wing

nora - prop

i think those are all of the characters we actually gave positions to in our really vague """planning""" process for this lmao.

[fandomoverdrive]

Okay I just need to go on a rant about Whirl because I love him he might just be the most tragic character in the entirety of MTMTE and considering the candidates that’s a pretty hard position to cinch. Some of this is gonna have mentions re: self harm, suicidal tendencies/ideation, overall bad coping mechanisms etc so if that’s not your cuppa please scroll on. 

This gets long so here’s the obligatory read more. 

Let’s write “tragic” in flickering neon letters with the fact that Whirl’s first appearance in MTMTE, dropping the titular “how to say goodbye and mean it,” is a personal soliloquy delivered as he’s in the midst of constructing his own funeral pyre. Whirl is lost, directionless, trapped and unwilling to be such in a postwar environment. But how did we get here? 

Whirl is without a doubt a driven character. In the prewar functionist society, he had no qualms switching careers, risks be damned. Whether he’s always had a knack for disobeying authority or was simply driven by passion or both isn’t elaborated on, but he’s got a hell of a hardheaded streak that’s impossible to ignore. When destroying his business wasn’t enough to deter him from further rebellion, the Senate was happy to turn him into an empuratee and destroy not only the opportunity but the capability of continuing to rebel by pursuing his passion. This is what I’d personally consider the big ‘whump’ moment, less so the use and abuse as a pawn that followed but the point of trauma at which we begin to see Whirl’s psyche begin to twist.

From this point forward we see Whirl in and out of prison, let loose when he can be useful to someone else’s ploy and otherwise incarcerated for a buffet of offenses. No longer able to be constructive and having little if any control of his life, Whirl becomes aggressively destructive. In response to having everything he aspired toward ripped away from him, permanently, he builds a mental defense of bitterness and anger and paves over his black hole of self worth with a veneer of outright assholery. It’s here that he bares his metaphorical fangs and pushes - with gusto - anyone who might even suggest they’re trying to appeal to reason or get close to him as an individual. 

It’s hard to imagine, given even subtly different circumstances, that Whirl would not side with the decepticons for the war. While he’s single-handedly responsible for radicalizing Megatron towards violence, the ‘con intent at the start of revolution - that movement in society should be possible and a caste system based on alt mode is unethical - aligns quite nicely with what he’d already aspired to do with his life. His conscription to the side of the autobots is just another instance in which his autonomy is cast aside. 

Whirl is a tool. Whirl had a passion for watchmaking, but now he can’t, so his new passion is violence. Whirl is a gun and someone else has always told him where to point and all he’s ever been given for his cooperation is the blame of pulling the trigger. Whirl is an asshole, Whirl is unpredictable, Whirl isn’t a mech anybody would ever think twice about saving - the answer would always be no. Whirl wants to die. Whirl only wants to die on his own terms and he’ll be damned if he’s going to keel over under the orders of someone he doesn’t respect, for a cause he doesn’t believe in. 

A few years of this sort of treatment would be enough to drive anyone insane, let alone the millennia of warfare he suffered through. Worse yet is the one time he found a group, a team that was known for the unorthodox and taking on the big messy challenges, the Wreckers kicked him out. Whirl was too much for the mechs that were too much and there’s no way in hell that doesn’t still sting. 

That’s how we get here:

Whirl defends himself through isolation from others. He can’t be hurt by others if he never lets them close enough to be hurt by. In a hypersocial society, he has no close long-term friends, he is one of the few with no roommate aboard the Lost Light. He made himself as unpalatable as possible. He’s crass, he’s volatile, he makes it clear with every word and action that Whirl is first, you don’t mean anything, I’d leave you for dead in an instant..... But that’s not true, is it? 

Whirl is shown being completely, dramatically, self-destructively caring throughout the series. Between risking his life for the scraplet colony disguised as a protoform, participating in an untested spark jumpstart to save a life, coming up with a plan to rejuvenate Tailgate’s spark, and performing a spark transplant surgery on Megatron - without whom the world would never have been even a fraction as cruel to Whirl as it had been - Whirl is far from the most selfish character in the series. It’s in his nature, however, to deny such, to the point where he more than likely believes his own narrative that he’s irredeemable, self-absorbed, invincible, degenerate, and neither capable nor deserving of close interpersonal relationships. 

It’s also how we get here:

Whirl is one of the characters that we more frequently see in a state of disrepair. He fights passionately and recklessly, with no regard whatsoever to whether or not he makes it out of a scrum with all his limbs intact. Injuries like these, and those that he experiences elsewhere in the series, would put other mechs out of commission through pain alone, but as long as Whirl is conscious he doesn’t stop until the fight is over. 

As depressing as it is to think that Whirl is simply at this point accustomed to extraordinary pain, it’s even moreso to think about the more likely concept that he wants to be hurt. Whirl doesn’t have control of a lot that happens to him, but do you know what he does have control of? Who he chooses to shit-talk. More often than not we see Whirl being blatantly disrespectful of his superiors, and some of the more dangerous mechs aboard the LL. While obviously his intent when insulting Ultra Magnus isn’t to start a fight, harping on Drift (and subsequently getting cold clocked) or Cyclonus is a little more self-destructive in nature. 

While Whirl has been in therapy, we see during the encounter with Fort Max that he’d shared very little of what he actually considered traumatic with Rung. With no material to work with, Rung wouldn’t have been able to give Whirl instructions or advice as far as a healthy coping mechanism, and so I’m firmly of the belief that Whirl goes out of his way to get himself hurt as a way to have a vague sense of control. 

On his actions and guilt:

Whirl is immensely guilty. When he’s overcharged, he admits that everything feels like his fault - and unfortunately a lot is. Whirl believes he’s the bad guy, and he’s willing to take the fall for actions that others might find immoral. There’s a lot Whirl has done that he’ll likely never forgive himself for, even if he garnered the ability to start forgiving himself for the small things, but the character he’s created for himself has been part of him for so long that it’s near impossible to tell where to draw the line between caricature and his genuine self. 

At this point in time, Whirl is not capable of improving himself without external assistance. 

He has accepted (however wrongfully) that he is not cared about, trusted, wanted, or respected. 

His assumptions become self-fulfilling prophecy as he - consciously or not - works to perpetuate his image. Whirl is a dick, he’s unfazed by anything anyone says about him, if someone is insulting him they’re probably right, why bother arguing unless it’s with the intent to get in a fight? He doesn’t pay attention to others, he doesn’t pay attention to himself, nothing that anybody could say could possibly make a difference. 

Right? Right?

Wrong. Part of what makes Whirl so heart-wrenchingly tragic is that it is so incredibly clear that nobody has ever told him he mattered. Rodimus throws out what could be interpreted as a snide remark, “even the crazy bastard makes a difference,” and that aside sticks with him. Millions of years of warfare, of being a tool to use, an expendable soldier, a rabid dog to throw at their enemies, and not once did someone turn around and say he was anything good. He’s been thanked for saving lives, for contributions, for individual acts, but his reaction to Rodimus really cements in my mind that nobody has ever said that he, that Whirl, was important. 

Whirl is a broken character. He’s subsumed by his own self-hatred that he perpetuates and justifies with a mask of cruel indifference and aggressively abrasive snark. He’s alone, by what he thinks is his own choice but is really a horribly misguided attempt to keep himself safe. He’s got no potential for growth unless someone wants to force their way through his defenses in order to help him find the line between who he is and who he pretends to be in order to keep from being hurt. Whirl is terrified of abandonment, and guarantees that nobody will ever be able to leave him by never letting them come close to begin with. He’s not a good person, he’s violent and callous and has little regard for the consequences of his actions, but he is that way because of the life he was forced to lead. He falls into consistent patterns because he craves control, even if those patterns are self destructive. It’s proof of the little growth he was allowed during the course of MTMTE/LL that after their quest was over, he didn’t attempt suicide again but instead got into the revolving door of incarceration for petty offenses. 

All in all, Whirl is one of the saddest characters in any media I’ve consumed and please someone get this despicable bastard helicopter a new therapist and a stiff drink 

[fotiathymos]

[ PROMARE Interviews - Geekboat Edition ]

Real quick. What is Geekboat? 

Geekboat is the nick name of a group of staff members in Trigger. Geekboat consists of Wakabayashi, Imaishi and Koyama. Anything referred to as a Geekboat idea is pretty much just those three making weird random remarks on the story and/or characters. None of it is “canon” and most of the time they claim to state that anything is possible so if you feel its true for the story or character then its true! If not, then ditch the idea and make your own!

The following information was from the Geekboat Event in June 2019. 

There is no clear information on who said what in most cases. 

The main story is true. Some information connects with ‘canon’. Some are made up from the crew.

> The names of the Mad Burnish motorcycles are named after the American cities they ‘awakened’ as Burnish in. Lio- Detroit, Meis - Dallas, Gueira - Miami. (It will be △ if you check it on the map!)

> Lio was raised by British nobility / aristocracy but still noted to be from Detroit. (one of the directors reported to have said “thats the first time I’ve heard of this” it seems specific to just the “Geekboat universe” unless it is later shown in official PROMARE information books.)

> Lio loved to play around with motorcycles and even secretly bought himself a biker jacket

> Gueira played American football and was very fast but due to having a weak body he was unable to make it on a team.

> Gueira’s large size in his Burnish armor form is because of his admiration of American football.

> Gueira also had a ‘long cherished dream’ of being a part of a rugby scrum and got to live his dream when he and Meis protected Lio from Freeze Force and sent him flying into Fennel Volcano.

> Meis is inspired by a “Visual Kei band member”.

> The PROMARE movie pamphlet (and even in the film) indicates each of the Burning Rescue members have their own roman numeral ranking numbers. Ignis is Burning Rescue I, Lucia is Burning Rescue II, Remi is Burning Rescue III, Varys is Burning Rescue IV, Aina is Burning Rescue V, Remi’s girlfriend is the missing Burning Rescue VI, and Galo is Burning Rescue VII.

> Remi has a blond crocodile girlfriend. 

> Remi use to be a playboy before getting involved with his girlfriend. Remi’s crocodile girlfriend use to be a member of Burning Rescue, her photo is in his locker, before she was involved in a biological accident that turned her into a crocodile. She now lives in the sewers underground Promepolis. She may return to being human one day. Remi goes down to the sewers to feed her each day.

> One of the final scenes in the film shows the civilians watching the sunrise. There is a man in an SGT shirt and sunglasses, putting a robe on an elderly woman. It’s Koyama.

> When Galo goes to save Lio from the Promatech Engine, the coloring of the Matoi Tech was discussed heavily. They took a day stressing over the color schemes but it just ended up monotone. (Theres no more elaboration on this which upsets me as this is just talking about the coloring of the ‘kiss scene’)

> In the first fight scene of Lio vs Galo. Lucia distracts Lio with the mini Matoi Tech and shows her face saying ‘stuuupid/made you look’. Galo did not see it but Lio did, Lucia’s poking fun at Lio.

> Mai Yoneyama was who wanted to give Lio piercings. Koyama was the one who stated they could ‘just get bread clips for a quick, discount Lio style earrings’. Only Lio’s left ear is pierced, though the promo poster show’s it on his right.

> Ignis is said to be in his late 30s to early 40s and has a daughter that plays football (American soccer). 

> When confronted on how Lio’s shirt goes from white to black when he falls into the lake the answer was made on the spot of “he scorched it when he fell into the lake”. The real answer was they wanted to make it black.

> Imaishi wants everyone to pay attention to the motor sounds when Krazor-X gets kicked by Lio de Galon and goes off balance because he thinks it was really impressive. Koyama added that the sound of the Pulverizing Pile Driver charging up was also very impressive. (They want you to listen to the mech sounds, pretty much.)

> You can see Lio’s belts form an X shape when he finally takes off his shirt in the final scene. The shape is meant to mimic Galo’s X of his shoulder straps. Wakabayashi, “The earnest reason for this is when they’re standing side-by-side together at the end, we wanted them to take their clothes off and stand next to each other on the same level as equals. The frivolous reason for this is, they’re hot guys so they ought to be undressed.” 

> Wakabayashi (cont. but now more so about character design) “You shouldn’t be stingy when it comes to the power of naked hot guys. Gloves also shouldn’t be normal gloves! If the gloves don’t follow through to this point, why bother? Frills are also aristocratic so the original design of Lio was even more amazing.” Lio’s jacket was once designed to be more white lace at one point. (Maybe meaning these images?)

-------------------------

That’s all I got for now! Thank you for reading and or sharing! All sources came via translations on twitter and google docs and hurting my head reading white text on black backgrounds!

[regvined]

[ chase stokes, cis male, nineteen ] Let’s give a warm welcome to one of Sparkwood’s finest, JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE !! Before coming here, he once lived on the pages of OUTER BANKS. Though now they currently spend most of their time as a CAR DETAILER. If you ask the townsfolk about what they are like, you will hear that they are DEVOTED but also OBLIVIOUS. If they had a theme song it would be TAKE ON ME - A-HA. Let’s see how their story unravels this time.

john b. possible nicknames: jb. cis male. bisexual. john b grew up with his father after his mother left them when he was a child. however, he was too young to remember her — saving him the pain of possible distant memories. his father had always made sure that the boy knew it wasn’t his fault that his mother left, doing all that he could to provide for john b. and, john b grew up rather happy despite his family’s shortcomings. they didn’t have much money and their home wasn’t the nicest looking, but it was still a home. and, when john met jj when they were kids, it became a home for him as well.

despite constantly running around and getting into trouble here and there with jj, john b was still a good kid. he always helped his father when he could, was polite and friendly with everyone he met, and did well in school. he was well-liked by everyone but the rich kids in his school, but he didn’t let that bother him too much. he constantly defended jj, often getting into scrums with the other in the process. but, if they were both roughed up, then it wasn’t so bad. plus, once they met pope and kiara, things looked like they were going to be smoother and even better. 

unfortunately, an event would happen that would completely derail john b’s clean streak. his father had been obsessed with finding a wreck off the east coast — a ship that had carried millions of dollars worth of gold and tied to the family. while john had always supported his father’s dream in finding it, realistically he knew the chances of such manifesting wouldn’t be high. he didn’t think much of it when his father went for a trip when he was seventeen. his father would often go out and survey various places the ship could have sank or passed through. it would be routine. however, when a week passed with no word from his father, john knew there was something wrong. he called the local authorities of the town his father was supposed to be docked at, asking about any information and filing a missing person’s report. there was a search and an investigation, but no news came out of it. his uncle came to watch over john b, but watching over only meant he came to visit once before leaving the state to continue working elsewhere — he simply needed to make an appearance to have it seem as though he took up official guardianship of john.

after three months, john’s father was officially claimed dead due to being lost at sea. they asked john to sign the papers, but he refused to believe his father was gone. he knew the man would never go dark just like that. he clung to any hope he had that his father was still alive. during this time, john b was starting to act up — he began failing in school, went on more and more illegal excursions with his friends, and was constantly trying to fool dps to avoid going into foster care. he got a job at cal’s mechanic’s shop to help keep the lights on and feed himself. his house became the main hangout for him and his friends.

john b was able to avoid foster care until he turned eighteen, inheriting his dad’s home. he went on one trip to the town where his father was last seen, only finding a compass that had been passed down in his family for generations. but, it gave him hope that he could still find his dad somewhere — or unveil what had happened to him.

[weshallc]

Happy St. Andrew’s Day. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading Bonfire Night! I haven’t put it on the usual fic sites as I knew I would mess about, and Tumblr folk are a patient bunch. I am going to rejig it so it stretches from Bonfire Night to Christmas (probably New Year at this rate) looking back over 2020.

Thank you for the lovely comments and support from @h4t08 @fourteen-teacups @thatginchygal  @bbcshipper @roguesnitch @lovetheturners and new regular @aimee-jessica and @olafur-neal

I really don’t know what I have been doing with my time apart from washing my hands, measuring distances of 2 metres, sewing masks, swearing at the news, collecting Scotch egg and pasty recipes and building a pantry to hoard all my Brexshit preparation supplies.

Enough about me, so as it’s St. Andrew’s Day I thought I might give this another spin. 

BERNS NIGHT (Revisited, just for fun)

Call the Midwife AU (Crown Jewels/Paddy and Bernie/Poplar-on-Tweaven)

CHAPTER ONE: FAIR FA’ YOUR HONEST, SONSIE FACE

“Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o' the pudding-race! Aboon them a' ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm : Weel are ye wordy o'a grace As lang's my arm.”  Address to a Haggis by Robert Burns 1786.

“Will You Reconize me? Call My Name or Walk On By.” Don’t You (Forget About Me). Simple Minds 1985.

Monday 25th January 2016

“His knife see rustic Labour dight, An' cut you up wi' ready sleight, Trenching your gushing entrails bright, Like ony ditch; And then, O what a glorious sight, Warm-reekin', rich!”

The room was swept in darkness apart from the light of the wolf moon and the north star penetrating the cold window panes. All eyes were facing towards a wooden table and the elderly man stood behind it. He was in his 60s and wiry, small for a man, but with a silver mess of what once must have been a bonnie head of fire red hair. The body may have looked weak, but the intensity in his bright blue eyes cut through the dimly lit surroundings.

As he spoke again, his voice filled the room, cutting through the anticipating silence. It was a voice that could take a knife and slice right through a soul. The knife in his hand in turn sliced through the offering in front of its high priest. Years of performing the same action with such a passion resulted in precision. The faithful entranced by the spectacle all gasped as one as the incision was violently made. No one daring to speak. Suddenly the trance was lost as artificial light rudely brought everyone back to the present with a blast of the pipes.

“All done then, Reverend Mannion? Can I serve the Haggis now? Don’t want it getting cold now, do we, not at £15 a head.”

“Aye, Violet, the ceremony is over. It’s time for eating and drinking, something the bard would have approved of, rightly so.”

The kilted clergyman winked at an auburn-haired girl in the crowd and tipped his whisky tumbler toward her. She raised her own glass and winked back. Her companion at her table was much taller with dark hair styled in a tidy no-nonsense bob.

The tall one leaned toward the small one and asked, “If it’s already dead, why does he have to kill it?”

“What?”

“The Haggis if it’s already dead, why does he have to kill it?”

Her friend opened her mouth to speak, but she saw a tender hand take hold of Chummy’s arm and explain it was all just ceremony, it was tradition.

“Like all that malarkey at our passing out parade, the day we got our badge. That wasn’t about police work, was it? It’s just tradition.  It’s what the English do well.”

He had been doing really well up until then, but a golden raised eyebrow made him alter his stance. “It is what us Brits do best.”

The raised eyebrow whispered to the police constable. ”Peter, Chummy really doesn’t think a haggis is a real animal, does she?”

He was not the sort of man that would turn heads, but he had a kindness in his eyes and an openness in his face she thought some would see as attractive. If only Camilla wasn’t his superior, and they didn’t work such long hours together, what might have been?

She knew her friend well and sensed more queries would follow. Not sure as a Scot brought up on Tweavenside and now living in London she could provide satisfying answers. Picking up their empty glasses and heading to the bar was a strange sort of refuge for a vicar's daughter and inner-city missionary.

There was a queue, well sort of a queue. In London a queue was made up of people standing in an orderly line and the person who had been stood the longest getting served first. In Poplar-on-Tweaven it resembled more of a rugby scrum and the person who shouted the loudest being ignored, Anyone who called the barmaid by name was bunked up the order. She wasn’t familiar with busy bars, but she was bright enough to work out the system.

“Val, when yer ready hen.” The request came from someone not sure that was their own voice they had just heard yelling those words.

All her life she had been immersed in the wonders of the Bible and was still amazed at how so many miracles had been performed. She had heard all the CPR arguments regarding resurrections and all that, and was still not convinced. But, she now knew how Moses had parted the Red Sea, he had known the barmaid’s name was Valerie.

“What can I get you, chick?”

“Here! I was first.” A grumpy voice struck up.

“Oh Al, you are always first. Let me serve this lass and then I will sort you out”

“Promises, promises.”

“Yeah in your dreams, pal.”

She was starting to feel uncomfortable she hadn’t meant to jump the queue. Maybe she should go back to the table and let Peter get the drinks. A man’s voice interrupted her thoughts, it was quieter than Al’s but held an authority. It wasn’t a Tweavenside accent, but it had a northern softness.

“You serve our impatient friend Valerie, I will see to this young lady.” Then turning to his new customer, “What can I get you, pet”

“Erm a whisky and lemonade and erm a pint, please.”

“Which whisky and a pint of?”

She wasn’t sure; she nudged her bottom onto a vacant stool for security.

“Are you with the law?” The tall bartender nodded towards Chummy and Peter,

“Yes, yes, I am.”

“OK, so that’s a Grouse and diet lemonade, just a dash and a pint of Buckles Best and for you?”

He stepped back a minute. “Your Reverend Wilf’s daughter?”

“Yes, I am.” Bernie suddenly felt more sure of herself. She was never completely certain of who she was when back in Poplar.

“Bernadette?” The stranger was grinning now, his brown eyes glinting under the harsh bar spotlights, or were they green?

“Well, that’s my Sunday name most people call me Bernie, even Dad.”

“Well, since I’ve never seen you in here on a Sunday or any other day. I will call you Bernie. I am Patrick Turner, most people call me Paddy, a few Doc.”

“Oh no, you won’t have seen me here on a Sunday or any other day. I live in London now and before that, well, I am not a big drinker.”

“What can I get you then?” asked Paddy loitering near the coke and lemonade pumps.

“A gin and tonic please, better make it a double it’s quite busy, save me coming back.”

Paddy smiled. “Premium gin?”

“Yes.”

While the optic was emptying into the glass, he asked, “You must have known this old place when Evie ran it?”

“Yes, I know Evie and J..Jenny”

“Oh yes. Jen was here when the wife and I took over she was a great help. We get a text every now and again, doing well for herself now, all loved up.” He winked at her as he ended the sentence, causing her to panic slightly.

“I was sorry to hear about your loss.” She wished she hadn’t said it.

Val had seemed to deal with ten customers to Paddy’s one, and now there was just the two of them alone at the bar. He looked at her in a sort of a non-direct, sort of direct way. Under that infuriating fringe she wanted to reach out and push back.

“Loss is as much a part of love as is healing,” he replied with a hint of melancholy, but without irony.

She was stunned and tried to find a corresponding Bible verse, but she drew a blank.

She focused on what was real and what was present. Her dad had taught her to do that. What was in front of her at this precise moment was a glass of gin and ice and a twist of lime. He was now unscrewing a bottle of Mediterranean slimline tonic.

She yelped, “No!” as he lay the bottle alongside the glass.

“Sorry most people add the tonic to the gin and I cannae bear it drowned.”

“Wouldn't dream of it, surely that would be very presumptuous of me.”

“Aye well, most people I've met are very presumptuous.”

“Maybe you have spent too much time in London. if you don't mind me saying, Bernie.”

“Well, to be fair, we don’t spend a lot of time sitting on stools and propping up bars in my part of London.”

“More's the pity.”

“Can I bother you for a...”

Paddy popped a black straw into her tumbler.

“I will make sure when you come home next time none of my staff will be presumptuous.”

“Oh, I doubt you will remember me, Paddy. I only come up to see my Da. I can't imagine you will be seeing much of me in the future, hardly likely that I would ever be considered a regular.”

“Now who is being presumptuous?”

Bernie went to put the straw between her lips but paused, realizing the stranger was still watching her. She suddenly felt uncomfortable. As heat rose in her cheeks. She suddenly felt awkward on the stool, squirming to find some sort of comfortable position. The stranger smiled in a way she could not understand; it wasn’t smug or suggestive, but as if there were sharing a joke, but she wasn’t sure what the joke was.

She hopped off her seat, for a brief moment realizing her arse was in the air and prayed he had altered his gaze. Focusing anywhere but behind the bar, she grabbed her glass and bottle in one hand, put the whisky against her elbow and waist, the pint in her other hand, turned and swiftly moved toward her thirsty friends.

Shelagh Bernadette Mannion don’t you dare look back and see if he is watching you he is recently widowed with a son, Da said. He is, what do they call them now, a bloomer or something like that. God has shown you his path for you and it certainly does not include the Crown Inn, Poplar-on-Tweaven.

He is still watching me, I can feel it.

[stevengeworth]

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[politicaltheatre]

The Bill Comes Due

It’s been a long time coming.

For all of the performative shock and surprise at what was done yesterday at the United States Capitol building, this wasn’t one of those things nobody could have seen coming. Many did.

Perhaps they didn’t foresee a goon squad smashing their way into the building and carrying Confederate flags through its halls while they ransacked offices of senators and representatives, but they all had to know violence from these people was coming.

It’s not like they’ve been shy about it. Their entire identity, from what they wear to what they post on social media, is rooted in the use of violence as a means to an end, and, however those ends may seem a perversion of its notions of freedom and all men being created equal, as an American ideal.

So, yes, there is every bit a case to be made that Donald Trump, as well as senators Josh Hawley and Ted Cruz and representative Louie Gohmert, could have and should have known what the gasoline they were pouring on conspiracy theories would do, and if impeachment charges are brought against Trump in his last days in office, charges against those other parasites should be considered, too.

Ah, but before we go any further down that road - don’t hold your breath - let us consider this: This was not a coup. This was not an insurrection. This was a riot. Four people are dead, one of them shot trying to force her way into the House chamber, but this was no John Brown at Harper’s Ferry, let alone a cannon blast across the battlements at Fort Sumter. This was chaos, stupid and childish chaos, with no thought beyond getting inside.

For all of the alleged planning and coordination via social media apps - Parler, Gab, and Facebook - the scrum at and through the doors was followed not by occupation and demands but by selfies and trophy taking. That betrays a kind of short term thinking that would have doomed any attempt at an actual coup had any of them even gotten far enough to take hostages.

These were children acting out. That’s dangerous, very dangerous if those children have firearms and explosives, which some of these rioters are reported to have had, but a long term threat to the institutions of this nation this was not.

If there is a long term threat, and there is, it comes not from these particular buffoons but from those who have been and will go on using them for personal gain.

The list of names is long. Let’s start with Trump, Hawley, Cruz, and Gohmert. Let’s add to it those who signed on to their craven lies about voter fraud and respecting the concerns of “tens of millions of American voters”. To them, let’s add the names of everyone working for them who saw the lies for what they were and said nothing.

But why stop there? What about Mitch McConnell, who has profited both literally and figuratively from exploiting the same people he had egged on for weeks after the election? What about Paul Ryan, who with McConnell had exploited having Trump in office to pass tax cuts for the wealthy on his way out the same doors smashed yesterday? What about Newt Gingrich, who made toxic partisanship such a lucrative industry back in the 90s as Speaker of the House?

To those names let us add Karl Rove, who gleefully pitted poor whites against minorities and immigrants to elect George W. Bush, whose administration greased the skids for the one we have now? With Rove, let us remember his mentor, Lee Atwater, who used the “Southern Strategy” to elect Ronald Reagan and whose “Willie Horton” ads helped elect Bush’s father.

Include them, as we should, and we should also include Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld, the Bush family consiglieri who got their start in Washington working for one Richard Milhaus Nixon, the man who popularized witch hunts, ratfucking, that same Southern Strategy, and, oh yeah, the Cheating Culture that tells us anything is acceptable as long as you don’t get caught.

It is that cheating culture that has spread like a virus through our economy and through our daily lives to a point where we don’t even think about it anymore. It’s just there, telling us that everyone else is getting away with it, telling us that there are two sets of rules, one for those with power and one for those without.

And maybe that’s true. If we allow it to be, it certainly is. So, add to that list the entire Democratic Party, which has passively and sometimes actively allowed corruption not only to persist but to thrive.

Let us also add our institutions for law and order, which yesterday once again demonstrated the stark difference between how non-violent, Black protesters are treated compared to violent, White rioters. Colin Kaepernick took a knee and has been unemployed for four years. How many covering that story at the time even bothered to ask what the response would have been had he been White?

So, too, let us add the news media, that until someone like Donald Trump came along seemed content with mere access, leaving too many questions such as that one unasked, and which, until far too recently, left far too many lies unquestioned.

This does include Fox News, of course. No, they and their new media spawn deserve a listing all their own. They were all created to cultivate a culture of haves versus have nots, to exploit fears and hatreds and divisions for profit. They succeeded too well. Their fingerprints are all over this.

Lastly, and we must, let us add our own names, for we have allowed too many to suffer and too many to live with injustice and without hope in too many communities in what is supposed to be a wealthy and powerful country, a “land of opportunity”, a “home of the brave”.

Those imbeciles attacking the Capitol building may be the worst of us, but they are of us. They are our neighbors. They are our countrymen and countrywomen. You don’t get to such a humiliating display in front of the whole world without a lot of time and effort. We have all actively or passively played our part.

There is a cost to everything. What may feel like good times for some may well come at the expense of others. For decades, this country has relied on a “dine and dash” approach to our economic and social lives. “Everybody’s doing it”, we’ve told ourselves. “Someone else will pay for it”, we’ve gladly heard. It buys us time not to act, not to risk what we have on behalf of others. It never lasts.

What we saw yesterday was how violence undermines those using it. Trump’s rats lieutenants are fleeing his sinking ship. Hawley, Cruz, and Gohmert lost support for their challenges, and perhaps for their 2024 aspirations. And rightly so. They all have built their political careers on exploiting imbalances of power for personal gain. It’s only fitting that they should suffer for it, too.

A system built on imbalances of power inevitably leads to conflict. How can it not? Conflict unresolved leads to violence. Hasn’t it always? There’s no mystery to it. They should have seen it coming. Maybe they did, but like so many of us they figured it wouldn’t affect them.

The bill always comes due.

The good news: Change is coming, too.

This was a week in which the state of Georgia elected not only its first Black senator but its first Jewish one, two freshly minted Democratic rock stars with the ability and platform to bring issues of injustice and the dangers presented by imbalances of power to national attention. They will.

This week also proved the power and promise of another rising star, Stacey Abrams, who in two years will very likely be the next governor of Georgia, and after that, who knows? Whatever she chooses to do, her messages of inclusion and accountability will carry greater weight, and we’d be wise to listen.

- Daniel Ward

[sandjsbeachbumbonanza]

Day 123 – Back to Nairobi

We woke up early this morning as Concierge told us to try and start sorting out our flights at 8:30am, when the Kenya Airways guy would be in the Zanzibar office. S protested and said the guy would not be in by 9am. Sure enough, he wasn’t in until 9am. However, he turned out to be surprisingly helpful. He even exchanged Whatsapp details with J so we could have an open line of communication. He gave us an option to leave today at 5pm on a different airline to Nairobi, spend 22 hours in Nairobi and leave on our previously scheduled flight to Cape Town. This did not sound all that pleasant. Nairobi is having a surge in COVID, has shut down all domestic flights and this seemed to S to be a bit risky. Our only other option was the 4-stop flight on Ethiopian.

After weighing the options, we decided to roll the dice and spend 22 hours in Nairobi. We rebooked the flights, organised transit e-visas, organised our old friend, the Tamarind Tree hotel, where we previously stayed twice on this trip, and completed health declarations. We also identified a back-up plan in case the Nairobi to Cape Town flight doesn’t work.

We ordered in room service, which was fine, and packed. Dulla picked us up as planned and we headed to the airport. We joined the scrum in front of international departures and were ushered to the front of the queue and let in through a VIP line. We don’t know why. Most everyone else was Russian. We were flying Precision Air, which has no lounge, so we had to sit with all the Russians. The departures area was so packed, people were sitting next to one another and standing around. There was no social distancing, or even the possibility of social distancing and none of the Russians were wearing masks. Buying drinks at the only food counter was quite an experience as we had to fight through another scrum. Queuing is a word that does not appear to exist in the Russian language.

We almost missed our flight as there was a large group of Russians pre-queuing for a different Precision Air flight, which J mistook for our boarding queue. Thankfully, driven by a suspicion honed by millions of miles of travel, S went to the front of the queue and realised the flight was mostly boarded and these people were just standing around in front of a gate. S screamed for J to get to the gate, while they held the door.

We got on a shuttle bus that took us to our plane. The plane was a seemingly new ATR turbo prop. It was a short flight to Nairobi and pretty smooth. Surprisingly, there was even some cabin service, but no cold beer. Cashews seem to be plentiful here.

The Nairobi arrivals procedures were pretty smooth for us, but not for those people who did not complete their health forms and get their QR codes. By the time we got to baggage claim, S was again suspicious as J said the bags were coming out on carousel B, which was empty and not moving. S asked her to check carousel A, because he thought he saw one of our bags. Sure enough, there they were.

We were picked up by the hotel transport. That was much less smooth as the 20-minute trip took an hour due to heavy traffic. There was no AC and we couldn’t open the windows due to the amount of diesel fumes being produced by vehicles that wouldn’t pass US or UK emissions standards. The heavy traffic was due to the fact that everyone was trying to get home by 8pm to comply with curfew laws. Hotel check-in was smooth and they remembered us from our prior two stays on this trip. We stayed in a different room, which had the exact same layout as the prior two rooms. We were both exhausted so we tried to go to sleep. Emphasis on the word ‘try’ as J’s allergic reaction was bothering her again.

[danganronpa-ea]

DR: EA2 Chapter 1 Deadly Life - Class Trial part 2

To Read the Prologue click here;

Prologue: part 1 | part 2

Chapter 1 Daily Life: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Chapter 1 Deadly Life: Investigation | CT part 1 | CT part 3

Chapter 2 Daily Life: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Chapter 2 Deadly Life: Investigation | CT part 1 | CT part 2 | CT part 3

Chapter 3 Daily Life: part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Chapter 3 Deadly Life: Investigation | CT part 1 | CT part 2

Chapter 4 Daily Life: part 1 | part 2

Chapter 4 Deadly Life: Investigation | CT part 1 | CT part 2

Chapter 5 Daily Life: part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Chapter 5 Deadly Life: Investigation | CT part 1 | CT part 2 | CT part 3

Chapter 6 Deadly Life/Epilogue: Investigation | CT | Epilogue

Anyway, all credit goes to respective owners.

Class Trial RESUME!!

 Katou Doi: S-So… you want me to explain my-myself?

 Kobayashi Eito: Yep, I mean all clues point to you and so far, you aren’t really denying the claims so maybe… tell us?

 Hamasaki Hana: So c’mon – just tell us if you killed Chief or not…

 Katou Doi: We-Well, okay then… you see, I was going into hibernation which then I fell asleep for most of the day and didn’t get bother all day until well, this evening… I heard something.

 I think I know what Katou-san might have heard…

 Okamoto Fuji: > Doi’s account, I got it!

 Okamoto Fuji: Are you referring to someone opening your door and you woke up to notice that your bear head was gone, Katou-san?

 Katou Doi: Yeppi Yeppi! That’s it, I woke up from my door being open, seeing as we were safe I felt leaving my door unlock made sense and my bear mask was gone so I went out and try to look for it however I notice the lights were out so I had no idea where I was going.

 Katou Doi: So, I had to feel up against the wall and get out through the kitchen door and down the path to find it which I then found it!

 Kita Jobon: You… found it? Where was it?

 Inoue Sunako: Oh I know! It’s that one place, the one where Miwa-chan likes to visit!

 Mori Miwa: Huh? Moi, wait… you aren’t accusing me, are you?!

 Inoue Sunako: Huh? Nope, I’m not but I know the place cause… me, Big Sis Fuji and Hana-chan went there.

 I knew of the place because me, Hana-san and Inoue-chan went there…

 Okamoto Fuji: -Pharmacy, >Ice Rink, - Iron Door

 Okamoto Fuji: This one then!

 Okamoto Fuji: It was the ice rink; we discover that were blood on the ice along with paws with blood on it too… Is that the place you’re talking about, Katou-san?

 Katou Doi: Yeeeep, got it! I found it right on the ice but notice it was cover in blood so I decided to rush back and clean it up…

 Kimura Kimika: Wait, you… clean it up? You could of gone up to your bedroom and clean it up?

 Katou Doi: We-Well, I would but Fuji-chan, Sunako-chan, Hani-chan and Eiti-kun were in the room already and I be question why I had blood which I had to clean off the blood which… I got clumsy…

 I think I know what he might be referring to since Kobayashi-san pointed it out…

 Okamoto Fuji: > Bloody sink, I got it!

 Okamoto Fuji: Hey, Kobayashi-san – you remember seeing the sink had blood on it? Maybe that’s where the blood came from?

 Kobayashi Eito: Oh yeah, I was wondering if the killer use it to clean the blood off which if that’s the case then… did that come from you, Doi-kun?

 Katou Doi: Mhm – I mean as say I would of went upstairs and clean it but you would suspect me so I try to clean it and everyone was rushing to the kitchen door so I had to clean myself up quickly… But even still, I didn’t kill Chikao-kun!

 Hamasaki Hana: So… is that your alibi?

 Katou Doi: Ye-Yeah, I’m pretty sure! Cause as say – I’m an innocent bear that could do no wrong!

 Hanlon Norman: Well, unless your related to those guys wearing the mask or that one bear from that game that summons his bearsona…

 Katou Doi: Yeeeah… I can never reach that level of bear, sadly! So I’m totally innocent, right?!

 Ohta Hoshiko: But even then, you’re still a suspect…

 Katou Doi: Hu-Huh? But… I gave my whole alibi and everything, so I had an alibi at the time.

 Ohta Hoshiko: Even so – your still not completely clear on suspicion and even then, no one saw you so I think it makes sense to suspect you!

 Looks like she is suspecting Katou-san for the crime but that person might have saw him, I just got to get her to speak up…

 Class Debate - Start!

 Katou Doi: Wh-Whaaaaat! But I totally am not the person that killed Chikao-kun!

 Ohta Hoshiko: Really because none of us saw you…

 Nakahara Rai: Yep, plus for all we know you could of <strike him like thunder> then rush off and clean the blood…

 Ohta Hoshiko: Indeed, so unless <there is someone that saw you> you’re still a suspect to us…

 Kimura Kimika: I mean, I <didn’t see him so unless someone did then speak up> right now!

 Katou Doi: Eeeeek, I’m getting suspected again! Someone (save me)!

 Ueda Tomohiro: Then make your case clear, Doi-kun…

 Seems like everyone still suspects Katou-san for the crime but there was someone that did see him and can attest for him… I just have to make that person speak.

 Katou Doi: Wh-Whaaaaat! But I totally am not the person that killed Chikao-kun!

 Ohta Hoshiko: Really because none of us saw you…

 Nakahara Rai: Yep, plus for all we know you could of <strike him like thunder> then rush off and clean the blood…

 Ohta Hoshiko: Indeed, so unless <there is someone that saw you>< Tomoe’s account>

 Okamoto Fuji: I’m sorry but that’s wrong!

  Class Debate – Ended!

 Okamoto Fuji: I’m sorry but, there might have been one person that likely saw him that can prove his innocent, right Kimura-san?

 Kimura Tomoe: Oh that I… still wasn’t sure who that little boy was but I did see a little boy running down a path and notice he had his face cover; I was about to call out to him but then the announcement came on and I had to rush inside…

 Kimura Tomoe: Wait then… was that person you, Doi-kun?!

 Katou Doi: Yeeeep, ya got me! It was me me meeee!

 Kimura Kimika: What?! You saw him Tomoe – why didn’t you say anything about that?!

 Kimura Tomoe: Well I didn’t know it was going to be useful at the time, mom so I kept quiet about it until Okamoto-chan brought it up.

 You�� really need to bring this up to the others but still with that in mind… it means everyone has an alibi for the crime it seems…

 Kobayashi Eito: Well, looks like all of us have an alibi so… now what? I mean, what can we discuss next…?

 Inoue Sunako: I mean, counting that Tomoe-chan saw Kuma-kun then that means he’s got an alibi too! So, what can we talk about next…?

 Kita Jobon: Would it be wise to discuss Ishikawa-san’s body? I think we might need to discuss the body.

 Mori Miwa: Oh your right, Jobon-kun! I think maybe it be best to discuss his body, um… well it block the door so why would the killer block the door?

 Kobayashi Eito: I have to agree, there is no reason to block the door like that since I did fix the lock so the culprit use his body…

 Actually I think there was another reason… I think it was due to the situation the killer was in…

 Okamoto Fuji: >Benjiro’s Hearing, I got it!

 Okamoto Fuji: Abiko-san – you recall hearing Chikao-san’s last moments, correct? Can you tell us what he say…?

 Hayashi Ryoko: Hm? Hear… you can hear the voice of Ishikawa-san?

 Abiko Benjiro: Indeed, I can hear the spirits of the dead which they’ll often tell me how they died which when I did Chikao-kun’s hearing… It sound like he was struggling for air; he was coughing for air and even struggle to try and free himself but the last thing he saw before he died was… a bear mask.

 Hanlon Norman: Wait so was the killer was one of those creepy guys that was destroying cars?! I thought we were safe!

 Hamoponi: I can assure you; you are completely safe and none of those guys appear inside as far as I’m aware so that mask you saw you wouldn’t see it anyway!

 Kimura Tomoe: Then… what bear mask was use?

 I can only think of one possibility…

 Okamoto Fuji: >Doi’s Mask/- Monokuma’s Mask/ - Teddie’s Mask

 Okamoto Fuji: This one then!

 Okamoto Fuji: It must have been Katou-san’s mask then? I mean if it was the last thing, he saw then whoever was wearing that bear mask must have killed him…

 Mori Miwa: Really? Whoever but… wouldn’t be Doi-kun? Seeing as he wore that mask usually?

 Hayashi Ryoko: Not exactly – remember that Katou-san mention himself that he had his door open so that means anyone could sneak in, so anyone could of worn it…

 Kimura Kimika: So your saying anyone could of wore it?

 Kimura Kimika: I mean – counting how big the head is? It could fit no one else but Doi-san.

 Kimura Tomoe: I’m not sure about that…I mean that head is pretty big so anyone could put it on…

 Inoue Sunako: Yep yep, so I agree that likely the mask could have been worn by anyone – even a girl!

 Mori Miwa: Wait, don’t assume a girl did it?! I mean, why would anyone wear that disgusting thing!

 Ueda Tomohiro: I got to agree, I mean it is unsanitary so if anything, the only person who could have that mask on was Doi-kun himself.

 Katou Doi: Bu-But I don’t wear my bear head at night! So someone must of taken it!

 Kita Jobon: So, are we stuck in the middle of this debate…? I personally am leaning towards that anyone could of gone in and taken it.

 Kobayashi Eito:  Yeah… how do we solve this one?

 Hamasaki Hana: Then… what do we do?

 Hamoponi: I’ve hear enough!

 Cut In!

 Hamoponi: Seems we got a split opinion which I won’t allow so, it’s time to begin… a debate! You all will bring up your points and decide who it is now let’s begin!

 SCRUM DEBATE!

 Doi wore the mask - Kobayashi Eito, Mori Miwa, Hanlon Norman, Nakahara Rai, Kimura Kimika, Ohta Hoshiko and Ueda Tomohiro

Someone else wore the mask - Okamoto Fuji, Katou Doi, Abiko Benjiro, Kimura Tomoe, Inoue Sunako, Kita Jobon, Hamasaki Hana and Hayashi Ryoko

 Ohta Hoshiko: That mask could <only> be worn by Katou-san…

Okamoto Fuji: Katou-san!

Katou Doi: Actually, I’m not the (only) person that could wear it, it could fit anyone!

 Hamlon Norman: I’ve seen <mask> like this before, it couldn’t fit anyone else but him!

Okamoto Fuji: Inoue-chan!

Inoue Sunako: Actually that (mask) could still be worn, heck even I could fit it if I want to!

 Ueda Tomohiro: A mask like that seems unlikely, I mean it only Doi-kun wore that thing and all the <health issues> with it!

Okamoto Fuji: Kita-san!

Kita Jobon: Actually, the mask could still be worn if under a limited time, so the (health issues) won’t be much of a problem.

 Kimura Kimika: I don’t even recall seeing Doi-san <without his mask> on so it couldn’t be anyone else but him.

Okamoto Fuji: Kimura-san!

Kimura Tomoe: Actually, I recall seeing him (without his mask) so anyone could wear it!

 Nakahara Rai: But how can we trust the spirit of our raging leader, I mean he’s <dead> after all!

Okamoto Fuji: Abiko-san!

Abiko Benjiro: Actually, it could be possible with my sixth sense, so hearing the (dead) is possible.

 Mori Miwa: It likely couldn’t be one of us <girls> so it must be a boy that wore it! I sure wouldn’t wear that thing!

Okamoto Fuji: Hana-san!

Hamasaki Hana: Actually, counting how big the head is – I think even a (girl) can wear it!

 Kobayashi Eito: But even still, the only person I can think of is Doi-san <himself>, he’s our prime suspect!

Okamoto Fuji: My turn if you don’t mind!

Okamoto Fuji: Actually not just Katou-san (himself) could wear, anyone could of!

 CROUCH BIND!

Okamoto Fuji/Katou Doi/Abiko Benjiro/Kimura Tomoe/Inoue Sunako/Kita Jobon/ Hamasaki Hana/Hayashi Ryoko: This is our answer!

 SCRUM DEBATE ENDED!

 Okamoto Fuji: So as say, anyone could of walk into Katou-san’s room and taken that mask and use it to kill Chikao-san!

 Kobayashi Eito: If that’s the case then… any one of us could of enter, right?

 Inoue Sunako: Yep – so that means we all could of went in no problem!

 Mori Miwa: But how can you tell if it was Doi-kun’s mask… I mean it could have been any old fur?

 Hayashi Ryoko: Actually, there is a way… I discover something near Ishikawa-san’s body.

 Ah right… she must be referring to that thing…

Okamoto Fuji: >Fake Fur, I got it!

 Okamoto Fuji: It was fur that was nearly Chikao-san’s body – correct, Hayashi-san?

 Hayashi Ryoko: Indeed, I came across it and felt the fur; it was fake and I could tell what fur is fake and real by just the touch so meaning that there was a struggle…

 Hamasaki Hana: So are you mentioning that likely he fought back? And thus, pull at the Doi-san’s mask?

 Hayashi Ryoko: Likely so – but the question remains, how was he killed? I mean, so far we don’t have a clue of how he was killed so let’s see if we can figure out the method…?

 I know how he was killed and I think I’ll try and bring it up…

 Okamoto Fuji: > Jobon and Tomohiro’s autopsy, I got it!

 Okamoto Fuji: Actually there is a way, Chikao-san was likely strangle – correct, Kita-san and Ueda-san?

 Ueda Tomohiro: Oh yes – now that you brought that up, we better bring up what we discover! It seems from what happen with the body was that victim was strangle to death it seems but there was something else…

 Kita Jobon: We discover there were no wounds at all on the body, not even a single knife wound so there’s only one method of death…

 One single form or death and honestly, it sounds really painful to think about…

 Okamoto Fuji: -knife wound, >strangulation

 Okamoto Fuji: This one then!

 Okamoto Fuji: Like he was strangling, which… is a really bad way to go.

 Kimura Kimika: I can’t imagine how painful a death like that would be, especially since your struggling for air but then still… the death feels really strange.

 Kimura Tomoe: How so? I mean he was strangled, correct? So the death was strangulation…

 Kimura Kimika: Well yes it was but… something else kill him, I mean when someone gets strangle; they tend to pass out but this strangle killed him so meaning that something else killed him, correct?

 Ohta Hoshiko: But what else could of killed him? I mean… there had to be a reason he died like that.

 I… think I got a good idea what happen and… this would make it worse but I’m sure me and the other person know what killed Chikao-san.

 Class Debate - Start!

 Hanlon Norman: But still, what else could of killed Chikao? I think we’re out of options… so any ideas?

 Mori Miwa: Hold on, what if it’s <something he ate>? I mean, he could have been allergic, right?

 Ueda Tomohiro: Not possible… I <ask everyone if they are allergic to anything> and Chikao-kun say he had no allergies.

 Inoue Sunako: Then what if he’s <drank something> then got strangle and choked on water? I mean that’s possible.

 Kimura Tomoe:  But he look to have a bad rash on his skin and seem to be bleeding…

 Kobayashi Eito: Actually, what if (he touches something that cause him to have a reaction)? I mean, that’s possible!

 Hamasaki Hana: Touch? You mean he touch something that cause him to have that reaction…?

 Kobayashi Eito: Well it’s possible and I think could be his death if anything.

 Kimura Kimika: I look over his record and <nothing mentions food allergies> so what could it be…?

 It seems that are suggesting he ate or drank something but this is information that only myself, Chikao-san and one other person know…

 Hanlon Norman: But still, what else could of killed Chikao? I think we’re out of options… so any ideas?

 Mori Miwa: Hold on, what if it’s <something he ate>? I mean, he could have been allergic, right?

 Ueda Tomohiro: Not possible… I <ask everyone if they are allergic to anything> and Chikao-kun say he had no allergies.

 Inoue Sunako: Then what if he’s <drank something> then got strangle and choked on water? I mean that’s possible.

 Kimura Tomoe:  But he look to have a bad rash on his skin and seem to be bleeding…

 Kobayashi Eito: Actually, what if (he touches something that cause him to have a reaction)< Chikao’s allergies>

 Okamoto Fuji: I agree with you!

 Class Debate - Ended!

 Okamoto Fuji: Wait, I just remember that yesterday – me and Kobayashi-san saw a similar looking rash on Chikao-san’s hand yesterday…

 Ueda Tomohiro: Oh yes – you mention that he had an allergic reaction to fur, correct?

 Kobayashi Eito: Yep – me and Okamoto-san notice his hand had the same rash which was bleeding as well when he touches animal fur, Chikao-kun told us that isn’t a major concern which he says he went over to the pharmacy to get medicine which would explain why he was late…

 Kimura Kimika: Wait, so you’re saying you saw him having a similar reaction?

 Kobayashi Eito: Yep, we both saw it and he told us about it; he seem embarrassed…

 Kita Jobon: But… wouldn’t that make Okamoto-san and Kobayashi-san the culprit? Seeing as they had this information.

 Hayashi Ryoko: Not exactly – while yes they knew of this information, they didn’t kill Ishikawa-san because yet again those 2 have alibis so likely someone else killed him…

 Nakahara Rai: Oh, are you thinking… of that rule? Because that rule regarding Hamoponi set up has been bothering me for a bit…

 Hamasaki Hana: Oh right, it was the wording that felt weird, right?

 Nakahara Rai: Yep – that rule about harm which… if it were harm then why would that person kill?

 Why does that rule bother Nakahara-san so much, maybe it’s due to the wording…

 Okamoto Fuji: >Hamoponi’s Harm Rule, I got it!

 Okamoto Fuji: Are you referring to Hamoponi’s harm rule? I mean, so far we know that Hamoponi mention he would kick that person out if they are a danger to us.. correct?

 Nakahara Rai: It is true, as the god of thunders have struck me! But… it say harm, it never say kill, correct?

 Inoue Sunako: Wait – are you saying that this culprit wasn’t even intending to harm Chikao-kun?! Then…

 Hamasaki Hana: That person didn’t know that Chief was allergic to fur UNTIL this trial! Meaning that person didn’t want to kill him but harm him, correct Hamoponi?

 Hamoponi: It seems I’m call up but to answer your question; yes I intentionally made it that rule – the rule I set up is that if you harm someone but don’t kill them then I’ll kick them out; so meaning a stab wound where the organ isn’t at, a wound to the head and… strangling.

 Hamoponi: That person came and approach me regarding that rule and ask about harm which I mention those, so if that person harm someone then they can leave; but I guess they never intended to kill Ishikawa-san…

 So then, this person… likely wasn’t aware of Chikao-san’s allergy and wanted to strangle but what could they use…?

 Okamoto Fuji: > Makeshift Rope, I got it!

 Okamoto Fuji: Say Hayashi-san – you mention that you were making some rope using animal fur, correct?

 Hayashi Ryoko: Yes – I recall wanted to make some and I decided to use the animal fur from breakfast since I don’t like wasting anything so I figure the animal fur would make for a good replacement rope.

 Hanlon Norman: Wait you… ask them? Well, that’s… charming to say the least.

 Mori Miwa: Shut it pervert! But anyway, Ryoko-chan – can you tell us why you needed that fur?

 Hayashi Ryoko: Well, I had my reason for making it, I was even close to finishing it but then when I came back for breakfast, I notice the rope was gone…

 Abiko Benjiro: It was gone or… you could of use it yourself?

 Hayashi Ryoko: Pardon? Are you suspecting me – because I do have an alibi and even then I had no clue who had taken it…

 Ueda Tomohiro: But what reason could you use that rope for? I mean it wouldn’t be too farfetched to consider the idea… correct?

 It seems Hayashi-san was getting suspected for this, I better clear it up!

 Class Trial – Start!

 Kimura Tomoe: What reason would Hayashi-chan would make the rope?

 Ueda Tomohiro: Well to <commit murder of course> which honestly wouldn’t surprise me…

 Hayashi Ryoko: No – that wasn’t the reason I made the rope, I made it for (other reasons).

 Katou Doi: Other reasons like what…?

 Hanlon Norman: Maybe she wanted to do tightrope or something?

 Kita Jobon: Unlikely, maybe <it was set up a trap> if I had to guess…

Inoue Sunako: I don’t think those are it either, it had to be for some other reason, right?

 Kobayashi Eito: I mean what else could it be made for? Maybe she wanted to <catch something> like a bear?

 Hayashi Ryoko: Honestly would not, <I don’t even like bear meat> at all…

 There was a reason Hayashi-san made the rope, but it wasn’t murder related but for something else…

 Kimura Tomoe: What reason would Hayashi-chan would make the rope?

 Ueda Tomohiro: Well to <commit murder of course>< No Rope in Warehouse>

 Okamoto Fuji: I’m sorry but that’s wrong!

 Class Debate - Ended!

 Okamoto Fuji: Actually, the reason that Hayashi-san was making the rope was because there was no rope in the warehouse!

 Kobayashi Eito: Oh yep, now I remember! I did notice when I was fixing the door – there was no rope at all which I told Ryoko-san about it so she offer to make it.

 Kimura Kimika: We didn’t have any rope? But why would anyone need rope at all?

 Hanlon Norman: I can think of a few reasons…

 Mori Miwa: Let’s hope it’s for more innocent reasons then what your thinking!

 Ohta Hoshiko: Then… what happen to it?

Inoue Sunako: I discover it outside; seems the culprit likely threw it away. It was outside the lodge in the back where the kitchen door is!

 Inoue Sunako: So that means the culprit was in a rush…

 Hamasaki Hana: Seems like it! But none of us knew about her making the rope until AFTER the crime, excluding Eito-san of course but he has an alibi.

 Hayashi Ryoko: Not exactly, I did tell one other person of what I was making…

 Katou Doi: You told another person? Was… that person who I think it is…?

 Hayashi Ryoko: Likely so, I notice that person tend to not use fur so I ask if I can use it since I don’t like wasting things which that person allow after I told them I need it for rope.

 Kobayashi Eito: Then would the culprit be Jobon-san? I mean he does hunt quite a bit so maybe it’s him?

 Kita Jobon: But I already have an alibi at the time and I even had Mori-san, Hanlon-san and Ryoko-san with me to testified.

 Kimura Kimika: So let’s see if we got it down correctly; one person who didn’t have an alibi at the time, this person did not know of Chikao-san’s allergies and knew about the rope outside of Ryoko-san and Eito-san which both have alibis if I’m understanding this right…

 Hamasaki Hana: Plus that person knew of Hamoponi’s harm rule outside of myself, Sunako-chan and Fuji-san!

 Inoue Sunako: Yep so that person is…

 I… think I got a good idea who it might be, the culprit that killed and the evidence points to that one person who could of done it…I think I’m starting to piece it together!

 Question: Who is the one that killed Ishikawa Chikao?

Okamoto Fuji: >…, I deeply apologize but I believe it’s you!