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diva-1-online · 3 years ago

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Chapter Text

A meeting at the “trial of the century,” as Monokuma claimed, hosted a shrunken group. Two people were left in the small circle.

The final girl.

The final boy.

Byakuya thought he outsmarted them with poisoned wine. Well, (Y/n) and Makoto didn’t drink. Aoi and Yasuhiro did. It was pretty obvious at the trial who was the killer. That was weeks ago though, the two of them had been living with each other in solitude for a while. Despite all the offers Monokuma fabricated if one of them killed the other, no attempts were made. On (Y/n)’s part, no attempts were even thought of.

“I didn’t think you two would hold out so long,” Monokuma muttered as he hopped down from his judgment table to the two final students. “But since neither of you seems to be interested in killing each other, someone has to dieee,” he sang out as the two students looked nervously at each other. Makoto shuffled his feet in place while (Y/n) tugged on her jacket as Monokuma stared at them. “Someone has to give themself up in an execution. Pre-planned for your despair while you suffer! Eenie meenie miney mo,” he began to point back and forth between them, “I choose-”

“I’ll go.”

“Huh?” Monokuma and Makoto seemed just as shocked as the other as (Y/n) tried to hide her anxiety.

“It’s life or death and it’s my game.” Monokuma began to try to stop her from entering and submitting herself to the execution. “You can try and survive but I don’t think it’s wise to- I mean, you aren’t even gonna fight each other for who gets to live?”

“I’m the ultimate softball star, I think I’ll play,” she cocked her head slightly and stepped into the execution arena.

“C’mon, Makoto’s a total pushover! He would’ve done this if you just made yourself cry.” Monokuma stepped before her and pushed on her leg.

“That’s not quite how I play games,” she nudged him off as politely as possible and continued. She stepped onto a softball field, freshly painted white lines for foul lines. Her feet crunched on the sand as she made her way to three simple objects.

A bat, red and black. A home plate, white and pristine. A pitching machine, dark and greasy. She picked up the bat as rules were called over an intercom. It must’ve been pre-recorded since Monokuma was standing in the dugout with a baseball cap on. Simple rules: hit as many softballs as you can until the machine runs out.

Whenever that’ll be.

(Y/n) did a practice swing as the machine began. She winded up and swung, a clean hit. She winded up again. Easy. The motions continued for far too long until another pre-recorded phrase was said into the intercom. Round two; the pitches get faster. A couple more clean hits until she missed. She cursed under her breath, not realizing the consequence about to happen. A chain came up and snagged onto her ankle, causing her to falter. She was in a strange lunge position now, the bat was higher than she’d like.

Round three.

Round four. Another chain snagged onto her thigh, pulling her to the sandy ground. Another ball went by, another chain snagged her other leg. And then her waist and left arm. Eventually, the only body part left alone was her right hand that she reached up to try to bat once more. She felt the collision of a ball with her bat, flying out of her hand and onto the sand. She felt one more chain wrap around her neck, pulling her to the ground.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Monokuma pulled the machine’s plug out, chains releasing her. Her arms immediately went to rub her neck in comfort, standing up in front of the plate. “Woah!” Monokuma yelled as the machine fell, creating a sphere of dust around him. Monokuma didn’t walk out though.

“Mondo?”

“Surprised to see me? Aw, don’t gimme that look, smile,” he joked, walking towards (Y/n).

“You’re supposed to be dead. I SAW you die. Don’t tell me there’s some sorta zombie apocalypse happening,” she joked while edging to her bat for a grip.

“Don’t try and swing,” he noted her slow movements in anxious unrest. She bit her bottom lip, loosening her grip but keeping her hand placed.

“Why not? You’re already dead and I must be too.”

“Recall the rules again, (Y/n). You can’t hurt me without being killed.”

“That’s for Monoku- no. No, no, no.” She backed up and tightened her grip on her bat. His grin widened and widened until it mimicked Monokuma’s almost-permanent smile. She refused to believe that he was a part of this scheme.

“What’s wrong? I thought I was your boyfriend- don’t be so scared.”

“YOU DIED! You’re supposed to be DEAD!”

“It was all staged, don’t worry about me. C’mon babe.” He smiled as she began to back up, bat now dropped. “Are you really that upset with me?” He seemed so real, walking up to her and smiling. She didn’t believe Monokuma thought of this as a plan to torture her. Right? Monokuma wouldn’t fake Mondo being alive.

“Mondo,” she glanced into his eyes. No, this was truly Mondo. “Do you know how I felt? I thought you died! I couldn’t sleep, Taka couldn’t eat-”

“Taka? I saw how he made moves on you- don’t pretend he was all innocent-”

“He was in grief! You did this, this is your fault! Taka lost his closest friend and you’re acting like he couldn’t possibly be in grief,” her voice grew shakier and shakier as each word passed. She began to blink away any tear that threatened to come.

“It wasn’t the plan to have Taka be killed. You two were supposed to be the last two survivors- the final players,” Mondo stepped closer to her as his smile began to fade.

“Then what? What would you do? The same thing Makoto and I are doing?”

“No, dammit! Just shut up and listen!” His fists clenched as (Y/n) was backed into a wall, staring down at the ground in fear. He immediately went quiet when he saw the state she was in. He took a step back to let her breathe as she crossed her shaky arms. She let out a choked breath and finally let herself cry. His hand reached up to her face and his thumb wiped a single tear away. He didn’t know what to say.

Neither did she.

She placed her hand into his, sniffling quietly. “What’ll happen to Makoto?”

“Damn, you really care about him? Even now?”

“I’ve been with him since this game started. Unlike someone,” she glared at him for a second before avoiding his gaze again, “he never left me.”

“What do you want done to him? Say the word and I’ll do it.”

“Nothing. Don’t do anything to him, just let him keep living.”

“You know I’m pretty jealous of how much you care for him,” Mondo joked, hoping to see a smile on (Y/n)’s face. She was blank and her eyes narrowed to the ground. “Aw, don’t be so sensitive. It’s a joke.”

“Just let him live. And then. Then we can go live alone somewhere, anywhere. Just don’t kill him,” she mumbled into his chest, letting him envelop her in a hug. He sighed and nodded, lifting her up and carrying her out of the execution room. Her arms hugged his neck in warmth with a soft smile creeping on her face. She didn’t even know where they were going, she just knew it was with him.

#drv1 x reader #drv1 #danganronpa mondo #danganronpa #mondo #mondo oowada x reader #mondo oowada #oneshot #danganronpa trigger happy havoc

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the-iron-fjord · 3 years ago

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>Doing Eeny Meeny Miney Moe in the 17th Century

#toonami #fena: pirate princess

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artbyfuji · 5 years ago

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R,,,Reincarnation AU; Summer and Raven keep meeting each other (and falling in love ofc lmao) everytime. 🏃

I think my ass just wrote a whole fic up in here lol:

1341

You were the heir to the throne. I was assigned as your personal guard. You hated this life, your family formed you into the perfect being. The smartest. The wisest. The best fighter. But you hated it. They saw you as an object. Just like the subjects of their kingdom. They cared only for status, willing to sacrifice them all in a moments notice. You said I was the first person to view you as something more than a name. More than just the heir to the Rose Kingdom. One day in the royal library, you suggested it. “Let’s run away.” You showed me an old map of the castle, secret tunnels leading outside of the kingdom.

I was loyal to the kingdom that gave me a chance to be something. But my loyalty to them couldn’t compare to my loyalty to you. We ran away. Crept through the tunnels and fled as far as our legs would take us. We were free, just the two of us, and in that moment, we shared a kiss. It was just us for maybe a year, but forces beyond our control wanted to break us apart. Enemy kingdoms were on the hunt for us, if you were killed it would benefit them immensely. They found us in the cottage we built by the river, it was two assassins intent to slaughter us. We fought but you were always stronger than me, I never understood why they would make me your guard if you could so easily defend yourself. Perhaps it was so I could take the fall in your stead. Maybe that’s what your family viewed me as, not a person, just a shield.

I was over powered, laying by the river bed bleeding out, wouldn’t make it much farther. The assassin grinned as he scraped his blade along the ground. He charged to stab me, but instead of hitting me…. the blade pierced right through your abdomen. I never noticed that you killed the assassins partner, never noticed you jumping into his path. Until it was too late. He pulled the blade from you, and the sound you made hurt me more than these wounds ever could have. But with the last of your strength you killed him, sliced his throat while he was mid swing. You then limped over and laid down beside me. We stared up at the sky, stars were visible and the dusk began to slip away. The sound of the river flowing drowned out our weak breaths.

Your bloodied hand grabbed for mine squeezing it as tight you could manage. Then we turned to look at each other, your lone silver eye piercing me to my core. Your smile barely masked the pained emotions creeping under the surface. I wanted to be angry with you. for taking the blade for me. But some reason, I felt nothing…. I was just lost in your presence. You looked me in the eyes and said it “we’ll find each other again.” It was a statement like you were positive this wouldn’t be the end of our story. I smiled… because I believed you. We both looked at the sky again. Watched the stars shine in the dark blue night sky.

Until it was black that consumed us both.

1674

Seeing you again shocked me to my core. We lived in the same town, I worked as a carpenter with my brother. You were an apprentice to a tailor. You wandered into our shop in hopes of getting a stool repaired. We looked each other in the eyes and just knew… knew of our past lives, of our struggles. Of our promise. We were finally together again. “I didn’t want to lose you again,” I said as we held each other in a tight embrace. “I didn’t want to lose you again,” I said as our lips pressed together for the first time, under that oak tree outside of town. “I didn’t want lose you again,” I said as we laid in the same bed, clothes long abandoned on the floor. “I wouldn’t lose you again,” I said as knelt in front of you holding a ring up. You laughed, and confusion flooded my mind, until you knelt down and showed me the ring you were hiding….. it made our love grow that much more.

We were set to be wed. We decided on late spring, the ceremony would be held on that cliff side you loved so much. The way the sky looked at sunset was a true marvel, with brilliant hues of orange and purple that would dance across the sky. Was this the happiness we deserved in our past lives? I remember regretting asking myself that. Because two months before our wedding, I fell ill. double pneumonia, they said i should cherish the days I have left because it wouldn’t be many.

It was the eve of our would-be wedding when my body lost its battle. You sat beside the bed everyday soothing my pain. But this day was different, I could barely keep my eyes open, I knew the end was coming, and maybe you did too. Because you reached for my hand and squeezed it tight. You delicately brushed hair away from my eyes and through ragged breaths, I parted them as best I could. your lone silver eye piercing me to my core. It felt familiar. You smiled, leaned down and pressed a kiss against my forehead.

I spoke one final request. “Lay beside me.” I knew you wouldn’t deny it. You got up and walked around the bed, it dipped to my right. You lifted my head and placed it against your chest. Your shirt was soft against my sallow skin. You cradled my weak form. That’s when you whispered it. “We’ll find each other again.” I believed you. I closed my eyes and listened to your heartbeat.

Until i didn’t have the strength to even do that.

1856

Maybe the frustration of how unfairly my life played out in my last incarnation is what caused me to pick such a violent path in the new one. My brother and I were bandits. Robbing train cars and stage coaches to make a living in this cruel world. When we met again I never expected to be looking down the barrel of your gun. It seems you too chose a dangerous path in your new life. You were the leader of a group of train robbers Ivory Rose, and we both had the same idea of robbing a train delivering gold.

My brother and I joined your group. We took on whatever the world threw at us guns blazing. It was such a thrill, the rush of adrenaline as we dodged bullets together. I remember every close call we had, how the thrill of survival would sometimes turn to lust, how our bodies would meld together whenever we shared a bed in a heady mix of sweat and arousal. This life wasn’t going to end in a happily ever after. But we didn’t really care. We were just happy to find each other again.

Our dangerous life caught up to us. Wanted posters plastered in every town. wanted dead or alive. We stole from one too many of the wrong people and the Pinkertons we encountered chose “dead”. They trapped us in an abandoned lumber factory. They wouldn’t leave until they knew we were dead. You laughed as you reloaded your guns counted how many bullets you had left. I did the same, we both knew we wouldn’t make it far, but we weren’t ones to cower in fear. Everyone outside ceased fire for a moment, and if felt like the world ceased spinning for a moment, maybe giving us one last chance to say goodbye. We used that time to look each other in the eyes, your lone silver eye piercing my very core. We shared a kiss. Your lips burned like fire against mine. You said those words again. “We’ll find each other again.” I believed you. We ran out into gun fire. I can’t say I remember much after that.

But i’m sure you lasted just a bit longer than me.

1915

Our time together lasted long this time. It was the turn of the century when we met, we were just children, I was 5 you were 6. And we became close friends. “Inseparable,” as everyone in town liked to call it. I remember all the days we spent under that weeping willow just outside of town. Picking flowers, or blowing dandelions in the wind. Sometimes I wished for simple things. Money to buy a pastry from the bakery, or a pair of shoes I saw the shoemaker putting on display. But in my teenage years I almost always found myself asking the same question. “Please let her love me back.”

I sometimes wondered if you wished the same thing. A few years later, my wish came true and we chose to be more than friends. I was 20 and you were 21 when we shared a kiss. I would never forget how soft your lips felt against mine. But things were soon going to test our love.

In 1914 the great war began. In 1915 it was right outside our town.

Our love was strong even as air crafts flew over our town dropping bombs. Our love was strong even as we stood in the middle of destruction. Our love was so strong when enemy soldiers grabbed us and forced us to kneel down with other survivors. They shot down the line killing everyone until it was just the two of us left. It was so easy to see what we meant to each other so the leader of the group played a game. A fucking game. “Eenie” the barrel of his gun pointed to you. “Meenie” it pointed to me. “Miney” back to you. He stretched it on and on and ON until he said the final “moe” and the barrel landed on you.

I remember screaming. Remember him tell the other soldiers to hold me down. I was scared but you just smiled. You looked towards me and just smiled. Your lone silver eye piercing my very core. That gaze, that beautiful gaze, it always had a way of erasing my fears. That’s when you said it “we’ll find each other again.” I believed you. I had to believe you. I would always believe you.

You died first. And the last thing I remember was how wrong it felt.

1982

I was far older than you this time. The more decades that passed, the more convinced I was that I would never find you again. I sat in the gardens of the hospital, how curious it is knowing that you’ll die. They gave me three months to live. I craved your presence. What would you look like? Did you dying first in the last life break the chain? Would i never see you again? Would I be born again over and over cursed to never find you? Lost in my thoughts, a ball rolled towards me. Almost didn’t realize it at first but I could never forget that silver gaze. The child that came to retrieve the ball…. was you. Eight years old and just as sick as me. Was the universe laughing at us? Trying to finally separate us for good? For weeks we talked to each other. Right here in the gardens. You had the memories of past lives, but you were so young and you couldn’t understand what they meant. You called them “sad thoughts” memories of how you died in past lives would turn up in your dreams and it scared you. But you said once we met, they stopped. I enjoyed your company, but i hope you could forgive me for wondering what our time together would be like had we been the same age.

I remember always wondering how you died in our second lifetime. But maybe its better that I never asked.

One day you looked nervous. I asked what was wrong. You said you had a surgery in a few days, the doctors told you it would help your heart. I would grab your hand and squeeze, it was about the only thing I could manage to do for you in this lifetime. You looked up to me, your silver eyes pierced my very core, it was the first time I saw you without an eyepatch, there was such an innocence to them. I smiled and told you to everything would be okay…. and you believed me.

A few days later I asked some nurses about you, about the child in Room 207. The somber looks on their face told me everything I needed to know. You died first again.

And this time you never said that we’ll find each other again.

2004

I sit in these college classes everyday. Lessons these professors teach barely process in my mind. In my philosophy class I always look down at the woman with dark red hair tied in a half bun, her eye patch, her breathtaking silver gaze. We pass each other in the halls, on campus. Her dorm is right next to mine.

Sometime’s when I pull up on my motorcycle at my spot on the campus parking lot, she is there. Talking with a friend. Some guy with blond hair. The first time we met she admired the paint job on my bike. She attempted to introduce herself. “By the way my name is-”

“Summer.” I said. Was I smiling? I think so. But I remember concern clouding my mind when she looked confused.

“How’d you know? Have we met before?”

I remember you. I remember all your past lives. I remember that child with the ball. The woman knelt in front of the barrel of a gun. The train robber that took on gun fire. The tailor’s apprentice. The heir to the Rose Kingdom.

So why don’t you remember me?

#this really is a whole fic lol #rosebird #i dont like first person POV but thats the only way this was gonna work lol #au ideas #reincarnation au #i like it as you can tell #asks

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themurphyzone · 6 years ago

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Oneshot: Lollipops and Burritos

Summary: How does a studious man with big dreams and a slacker with no regard for the rules become partners? Easy, just make your own rules.

Spoilers for First Impressions!

Seriously I loved the Dakavendish in this episode like there’s so much it’s not even funny well it is but you know what I mean! Imma stop rambling now and get on with the story!

This was it. Today was the big day. On August 26, 2168, Balthazar T. Cavendish would pass his driving test with flying colors and become a full-fledged agent of the Bureau of Time Travel, an agency dedicated to protecting the delicate space-time continuum from evildoers, miscreants, and the shadowy Marmoset League.

Agents had it all: limousines with aquariums, high society parties, stylish tuxes and gorgeous dresses, and most importantly, recognition for their efforts in saving the world.

Cavendish always aimed high in his goals. What was the point of setting them if you didn’t aspire to achieve great things? When he was young, he dreamed of being a famous concert pianist.

Mozart had been invited to play in a royal palace when he was but a young lad. Beethoven composed despite his deafness. With the great composers of history as his inspiration, Cavendish had practiced and practiced until every note, rhythm, and key signature was burned into his mind.

But he was just a small fish in a big pond. He’d competed against children who fiddled before they walked, and the judges overlooked him despite his efforts to play everything as written in the piece.

So he turned to law in the Queen’s court instead. Barristers were fair, thorough, and had extensive knowledge of the precedents regarding a case. He would help the judges deliver justice for the innocent and punishment for the guilty.

Then Queen Elizabeth IV banned him from the royal palace for life because he dared to call her out for her refusal to compensate a florist for the damages that her precious corgi, Mr. Marshmallow Biscuit Longfellow, caused at his shop.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true.

He refused to go back anyway since Mr. Marshmallow Biscuit Longfellow urinated on his favorite suit and he had no choice but to throw it away.

Then Cavendish went back to school, taking classes such as Theoretical Mathematics of Time Travel and How to Avoid Erasing Yourself from History 101 until he’d earned his Bachelor’s of Science in Time Travel. Then he applied for a job at the BoTT and the rest was history.

Cavendish spent three harrowing months studying for this driving test. An important part of driving was knowing the car’s mechanics after all.

And when he passed, he’d be a full-fledged agent!

Despite his nerves, he forced himself to concentrate on his electronic manual for this particular model of time travel vehicle. Student drivers used basic 2160 Tempos for easy handling and an auto-pilot to help get them back on track if they accidentally wound up in the Dark Ages.

But if he clawed his way up to the S-Rank in BoTT, he could earn enough to buy a highly coveted 2167 Chronos Satellite, which was equipped to fly in the lower regions of space while providing a steady oxygen supply, temperature control, and enough safety features so that the driver didn’t accidentally hurtle to earth in a fiery blaze.

“The Time Delineation gear is for quick trips in local space, allowing you to move three times faster than local time,” Cavendish recited. He knew the book forwards and backwards by now, but last-minute cramming never hurt anyone.

“Alright, Cavendish,” he said as he stored the manual. Sounding confident was key. “You are on your way to becoming a fully-fledged time agent! This deserves a lolly!”

Alright, so he couldn’t resist a black currant lollipop. It was the best flavor on the market in his humble opinion.

Then the driver’s door suddenly opened, and before he knew it, he was unceremoniously shoved into the passenger seat by some...some hoodlum with the largest afro Cavendish had ever seen in his life.

The world was a cruel mistress. He spent all this time studying for this moment, and the payoff was being carjacked by some greaser who thought he looked good just cause he wore a leather jacket.

And to add insult to injury, the jerk wasted his last black currant lollipop.

Dakota liked food, music, and movies. He was just a simple guy with simple pleasures. While he’d be perfectly happy working in restaurant jobs for the rest of his life, it didn’t pay the bills.

Companies preferred robot workers these days. More efficient and less costly, they argued.

Most human servers worked in small family-owned restaurants, but they’d be out of luck in a few months when the patrons inevitably moved onto more snazzy, well-known businesses.

Two weeks ago, Dakota had the bright idea of dressing up like a robot and seeing how well he could imitate his mechanical co-workers at a popular fast-food joint. It worked for a few hours, but his appetite got the better of him and he was caught stealing chicken strips on camera.

He’d been carted off to jail and charged with impersonating robots without a permit. Humanity had advanced to flying cars and time travel, but they’d never been able to fix the justice system.

On the plus side, the incident had given Dakota the idea to get a permit so he could legally impersonate a robot.

He discovered the eviction notice after he’d been released from his week-long stay in jail. There just hadn’t been enough money to pay rent and groceries. He could pay rent and starve, or he could pay for food and allow himself to be kicked out.

It wasn’t a hard choice, nor was it a total loss. Dakota was already a recruit for the BoTT, and they had many private study rooms. They called it a study room, Dakota called it his bedroom, but either way, it was a room.

And the cafeteria food was delicious.

The morning of August 26, 2168 was just like any other. Dakota scarfed down his eggs and French toast, topping it off with a glass of orange juice. As he prepared to sweet-talk Penelope the mechanical cafeteria lady into giving him a second batch of eggs, the intercom beeped.

“New time agent recruits, please select a vehicle for your driving test. If you survive today, you’ll get your first assignment and partners tomorrow. Thank you,” a bored man in some serious need of coffee announced.

For some reason, the announcement had given him a craving for one of Rita’s burritos in the 21st century.

“Yo, Penelope, that a new ocular lens on ya? Looks good. Say, how ‘bout holding a few chocolate muffins for me? I’ll pick ‘em up later,” Dakota said, leaning on the counter lazily.

“My circuitry is heating up,” Penelope monotoned.

Though she had no outward forms of expression, Dakota knew from experience that circuitry heating up was the equivalent of blushing and that she would honor his request.

With everyone scrambling to file last-minute digital work (paper had been completely phased out), the path to the holding bay for student vehicles was clear.

After a brief round of eenie-meenie-miney-mo, Dakota headed over to the winning vehicle and opened the door, which thankfully wasn’t locked.

“Slide over, stretch. I need a ride,” Dakota said as he shoved the driver—a tall man with ginger hair and thick-rimmed glasses—aside and made himself comfortable.

“Wait a minute, who are you?” the other man asked indignantly. His accent was overly posh like one of those fake Brits on TV. He held a purple lollipop in his outstretched hand, and Dakota snatched it up, much to the other man’s dismay.

He was kinda funny actually, so Dakota decided to name him Stretch.

“Is this for me? Thanks!” Dakota exclaimed as he stuck the lollipop in his mouth. Something to suck on for the road couldn’t hurt.

Then an extremely bitter flavor exploded across his tongue, and Dakota yanked the lollipop out of his mouth, exclaiming his disgust for Stretch’s choice in flavor.

“BLECH! What flavor is this?” Dakota asked in disgust. He was going to need some extra salsa to get rid of this gross flavor that had no right existing.

“Black currant,” Stretch enunciated carefully, his eyebrows knitting together.

Yeah, didn’t look like they were getting along, especially if Stretch insisted that black currant was delicious and Dakota’s taste buds were the ones that were in need of major readjustments.

Dakota threw the disgusting lollipop over his shoulder, its purple juices making the entire thing stick to the window.

“Not even gonna ask what that is,” Dakota muttered as he started up the car and opened a time portal.

Good thing he knew a shortcut, because he seriously needed to get that lollipop out of his system.

Cavendish privately named this man—no, this unwanted hitchhiking selfish lollipop-stealing vagrant ‘Hoodlum’.

It didn’t matter how loud Cavendish protested. Hoodlum broke every speed limit law in the manual and in all of existence, took bends at two hundred temporometers an hour when the recommended was just fifty, and didn’t check the gauge to make sure they had enough time juice to last the entire trip.

In the span of thirty seconds, the vehicle was caught in the powerful jaws of a T-rex, used as leverage for a sauropod to reach some high-hanging leaves, and battered by an angry Triceratops.

By the time Hoodlum finally got them to the safety of paved 21st-century streets, the time vehicle had been battered and bruised to the point of being a miracle that it functioned.

“What. Was. That?” Cavendish asked flatly, too scared for his life that he couldn’t outwardly express his mortal terror.

“Shortcut through the Mesozoic,” Hoodlum said casually, as if he hadn’t just taken them on a crazy joyride that would’ve made them another statistic to the list of BoTT recruits who didn’t survive the training. “Come on, let’s get some burritos.”

Hoodlum pushed the eject button, and Cavendish was thrown onto the asphalt, his glasses knocked askew from impact.

“Tres burritos, Rita!” Dakota called to a nearby street vendor. “That means three burritos, Rita.”

This miscreant was actively sabotaging Cavendish’s driving test with his reckless, self-serving ways. Who did he think he was anyway? Cavendish’s anger boiled to a breaking point. He was sick and tired of being tossed around like a ragdoll caught in the whimsical fantasies of a child who’d never grown up.

“GREAT GRABKNACKLES! YOU RISKED OUR LIVES FOR A LOUSY BURRITO?” Cavendish stormed up to Hoodlum, pointing an accusing finger in his face. Cavendish ignored the dirty looks Hoodlum and Rita threw his way.

Any sane person would know perfectly well that burritos did not supersede basic self-preservation.

“No, no. I risked our lives for an amazing burrito, so good it only exists in this time and place,” Hoodlum retorted. “You want nachos with yours?”

Cavendish scowled and folded his arms. He would never sink low enough to accept food from Hoodlum. “You would make a terrible partner,” Cavendish snapped, pointedly turning his back to this scoundrel.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t asking,” Hoodlum replied.

That was the only sensible thing he’d said all day.

Stretch didn’t want a burrito.

Fine, whatever. Dakota tried, at least. Though who in their right mind would turn down an amazing burrito? Literally, an Amazing Burrito. It was right on the sign.

Rita quietly excused herself, not wanting to be part of the awkwardness that permeated the air as Dakota ate and Stretch grumbled.

Stretch seemed to have two speeds: Buzzkill and Even More Buzzkill.

Really, hadn’t this guy ever heard of fun in his life?

“It’s in the manual. Page 9, Paragraph 15, Line 5. ‘A recruit may not use a company vehicle for personal use’,” Stretch quoted.

Dakota had no desire to open the manual and check it himself, but he was pretty sure the manual didn’t have every individual paragraph and line marked. He almost felt bad for Stretch. He didn’t seem to have much of a social life if he memorized everything in that dusty old knickknack.

“THERE ARE RULES, MAN!” Stretch yelled, shoving the manual in Dakota’s face.

For a stickler, Stretch had no qualms about invading personal space and breaking rules on basic politeness.

Dakota had to give the man a point.

“I know, I just choose not to follow them,” Dakota proudly admitted. Rules never did anything for him, so why should he have to obey some stupid list?

“When we get back to our own time, I will be reporting you to the proper authorities,” Stretch said pompously, puffing out his chest in a pitiful attempt to be authoritative.

Really, his spaceman suit was working against him in that regard. It looked more ridiculous than anything.

Besides, the authorities never could make charges stick for long. Robots were so easy to bribe with spare nuts and bolts.

“Not everything’s in that manual. Sometimes you gotta improvise when the unexpected happens-” a strange whooshing noise caught Dakota’s attention, and he craned his neck to see a torrent of water carrying a battered school bus with a rocket sticking out of its roof and—were those kids being dragged behind on a broken back door?

“-like that! Those kids need help!” Dakota shouted, tossing his burrito aside as he leaped out of his seat. “Come on, let’s roll!”

He wasn’t sure how those kids wound up in such a precarious situation, but their bus driver was endangering their lives and not even slowing down so he had to do something!

As he darted toward the car, he suddenly realized how cool it would be if he could leap over the car hood like some inexplicably awesome action hero.

He felt like a regular James Bond, like a jerky 1980s movie protagonist whose trumpets bellowed their theme like they were some god descended to earth and-

He felt that solid concrete hurt.

A lot.

It all happened so fast. One moment they were locked in a vicious argument, then they saw children in peril (an incredibly strange sort of peril, but they called it peril for a reason), then Hoodlum shouted about rescuing them and wound up faceplanting into the asphalt as he tried to leap over the time vehicle’s hood.

If the situation wasn’t so dire, Cavendish would’ve been more than happy to hold it over Hoodlum’s head as karma.

Cavendish buckled himself a scant two seconds before Hoodlum gunned the engine, floored the gas pedal, and crashed through a fence without remorse for destroying public property.

Cavendish found himself not caring that they broke the rules regarding wonton destruction with a time vehicle as outlined on Page 45, Paragraph 6, Lines 3-7.

Fences could be replaced. Children’s lives could not.

As they pursued the school bus at a speed that surely couldn’t be safe for any car, much less a near-totaled one, Cavendish caught a glimpse of the panicked expression on Hoodlum’s face. He gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as he wildly spun the wheel to avoid oncoming traffic.

Hoodlum didn’t know these kids.

But he would still shatter speed limit laws, risk crashing himself, and refuse to adhere to BoTT’s rules about revealing the existence of time travel before it was invented for them.

Cavendish had a feeling that he sorely misjudged Hoodlum after all.

The rocket propelled the bus into a river, and the children—dear White Cliffs of Dover how were they even holding on at this point—were getting further away every second.

“We’re going to lose them!” Cavendish shouted as the bus careened down the opposite fork in the river.

“Not if I can help it!” Hoodlum yelled, slamming the gas pedal to the floor and pushing their odometer to dangerous levels.

Cavendish clung to his seat for dear life, an uncomfortable pit of dread settling in his stomach that wasn’t just from being airborne and upside-down.

His first mission as a time travel agent would not end in tragedy. He’d never forgive himself if it did.

The moment they landed (right-side up thank goodness) on the opposite bank, the rocket suddenly ignited, pushing the bus and children even further out of their reach.

“They’re going too fast!” Cavendish bit back a curse. They’d been so close that time, yet the chance of a successful rescue had been snatched from their grip.

The water churned and swirled uncontrollably, throwing all sorts of flailing aquatic creatures into the air.

Just their luck, the children and the bus door they’d been riding on went airborne and the rope that tied them to the bus fell away.

Dakota gritted his teeth, massively frustrated that they’d been so close to getting those kids away from danger but failing every single time. “And now they’re airborne,” he griped.

“Wait, we’ll use the Time Delineation gear!” Stretch exclaimed.

Dakota had no idea what Stretch was talking about. They didn’t have time to waste. “The what now?”

“It’s the Time Delineation gear! It allows you to move three times faster than local time! That’s in the manual!” Stretch exclaimed, pulling a lever through a series of ninety-degree turns. A strange power surrounded the time vehicle, bringing everything to a near-complete standstill while Dakota maintained their rapid speed.

Water stood still, animals were suspended in their movement, and the children and door hovered in midair without being subject to gravity.

It was incredible.

If Stretch hadn’t memorized that manual, neither of them would have known about the Time Delineation gear and the children’s lives would be in even greater jeopardy.

When all was said and done, maybe Dakota could borrow Stretch’s manual and see if anything else in there would be useful.

If Stretch was willing to forgive him for the whole burrito thing, that is.

“Whoo-hoo!” Stretch yelled. “We’re actually driving on water!”

Huh. So Stretch could smile after all. Who knew? He looked good.

“Bet that wasn’t in your manual!” Dakota exclaimed.

He leaned forward, giving the car one last burst of speed before they went airborne a second time. The underside of the bus door hit the windshield, and he and Stretch held the door in place with their fingertips. The two children, a boy with an overly-large backpack and a girl with flaming red hair, had frightened expressions on their faces but seemed physically unharmed.

How two elementary-age children wound up in this situation, he had no idea.

Stretch pulled the Time Delineation gear back into its previous position with his free hand, and the timeflow went back to normal.

The rocket finally burned out, thank goodness.

Driving was harder with just one hand, and Dakota nearly rammed into the back of the stopped school bus in front of the elementary school. He was just glad the student driver cars had excellent brakes.

The momentum of their sudden stop caused the children to fly off the windshield and into the safety of the bus, the door slamming shut into place behind them.

Once Dakota and Stretch recovered from nearly hitting the windshield themselves, they sighed in relief.

The return trip to 2168 had been awkward, to say the least. Whether Hoodlum drove at normal speed because he wanted to or because the poor car suffered enough abuse, Cavendish had no clue. After Hoodlum’s reckless yet heroic driving, Cavendish decided to hold his tongue for once and make plans for the imminent future.

Cavendish knew he didn’t have the best track record when it came to working with others. Back when he played piano, he never worked well with an accompanist. Too often those sessions devolved into a screaming match over tempo and dynamics. He’d cultivated a reputation for being uptight and obnoxious in the barrister community.

It would be difficult to work with someone he didn’t know, but he supposed he’d manage. They would just be work partners after all. Their work and personal lives would never intersect.

He was just thankful that the vehicle maintenance department didn’t ask too many questions about the battered state of the car. Apparently, many student driving cars didn’t survive the BoTT driving tests and wound up being used for scrap metal to build cheap robots.

The next day, Cavendish was called into Mr. Block’s office to meet his new partner. Cavendish had passed his test with flying colors. He was lucky they scored him based on how alive he was rather than what he did on the road. If anyone thought to check the vehicle records, they would’ve been horrified by what Hoodlum put the car through. And Cavendish would’ve likely been mistaken for an accomplice.

“Okay, let’s see what we got here,” Mr. Block grunted as Cavendish walked into his office. Cavendish’s heart raced, and he wrung his hands while Mr. Block looked over the official document that stated who Cavendish’s new partner would be. “Recruit number 68427, Cavendish. This is your new partner, Vinnie Dakota.”

A figure stood up from the plush chair in front of Mr. Block’s desk, and Cavendish froze. That afro and leather jacket would forever be burned into his memory.

“Hoo boy,” Hoo-no, his name was Dakota, Cavendish reminded himself. As in North Dakota and South Dakota. Dakota rubbed the back of his head, avoiding Cavendish’s eyes.

“It’s you!” Cavendish gasped.

Fate sure loved her irony.

But Cavendish derived some satisfaction from knowing this was just as awkward for Dakota as it was for him.

Dakota was completely stunned, his eyes flickering between Cavendish and Mr. Block.

A bubble of anger rose up. How dare Dakota show his face here, how dare he act like he didn’t endanger their lives, how dare he pretend saving two kids was nothing, because that was the most courageous act of foolishness Cavendish had ever seen in his life.

“Wait a minute, do you two know each other?” Mr. Block asked suspiciously as Dakota stared at Cavendish as if expecting a tirade on how he would never work willingly with someone who breaks speed limits just because they couldn’t control their hunger.

Cavendish threatened to report Dakota to the proper authorities, and he was always a man of his word.

“Here it comes,” Dakota muttered, resigned to his fate.

“I’ll tell you exactly what I know about this man,” Cavendish said.

There were a million things Stretch could say that would incriminate Dakota right then and there.

Sabotaging a new recruit.

Taking an unauthorized trip through the timestream with a company-owned vehicle.

Using the company-owned vehicle for personal reasons.

Stealing his favorite lollipop.

Reckless driving.

Dakota normally didn’t give a second thought to his rulebreaking, but geez, he was feeling lower than a discarded piece of gum on a leather boot for dragging along an innocent man who could potentially do great things in his future.

“When someone is in trouble, he’s a good man to have around. Balthazar Cavendish, pleased to make your acquaintance, sir,” Stretch said, extending his hand in a formal greeting.

Shocked by Stre-Cavendish’s formality and calm but respectful tone, Dakota stared at the offered hand for several tense seconds before finally grasping it in a firm handshake.

Dakota wasn’t usually forgiven so easily, and Cavendish most definitely struck him as the type to hold a grudge. Still, it beat getting into trouble with the authorities.

On another note, didn’t he see that old surname on bananas at the grocery store?

“Pleased as well. And thanks,” Dakota finally managed.

“Don’t mention it,” Cavendish replied.

“I won’t,” Dakota grinned.

“Though I might,” Cavendish said, his eyes narrowing. “Later.”

Dakota had no doubt that his new partner would indeed follow up on that threat. “I’m sure you will.”

By this point, their handshake was less of a handshake and more just rhythmically moving their arms up and down together.

“Whatever. Get out of my office,” Mr. Block snapped.

Unwilling to be on the receiving end of Mr. Block’s wrath on the first day, they hurried out and the door automatically closed behind them.

“So, partner. What kinda mission do ya think they’re gonna send us on?” Dakota asked. They passed by a secretary’s desk, and Dakota discreetly snagged a cotton candy lollipop from the jar left conveniently on the side.

“Well, I believe they’d start us off with reviewing old cases,” Cavendish mused. “It would help us learn the patterns, see which areas of time require more of a presence, and help us catch the perpetrators who dare mess with the planet and its inhabitants. Which would include evil scientists bent on misusing the field of discovery for nefarious purposes, hunters intending to swipe the most valuable objects in history, and worst of all-”

Cavendish snatched the unwrapped cotton candy lollipop out of Dakota’s hand, stuck it in his mouth, pulled it out, and stuck it on the window behind him in one smooth flourish.

The man was so smooth at revenge.

Dakota felt a light tap along his jaw, and belatedly he realized Cavendish had closed his mouth for him because he was too stunned to do it himself.

“-lollipop thieves who revel in stealing and wasting other people’s favorite food,” Cavendish smirked. “I believe I said I’d mention it later. Don’t look so flabbergasted, man.”

“You are one petty stickler, Cavendish.”

“And you are a reckless hoodlum, Dakota.”

“Square.”

“Carjacker.”

“Stick up your butt.”

“Scoundrel.”

And that’s how Dakota knew it would be the dawn of a beautiful partnership.

#milo murphy's law #balthazar cavendish #vinnie dakota #dakavendish #mml spoilers #fanfiction #oneshot

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thechasefiles · 5 years ago

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The Chase Files Daily Newscap 28/10/2019

Good Morning #realdreamchasers. Here is your daily news cap for Monday, October 28th, 2019. There is a lot to read and digest so take your time. Remember you can read full articles via Barbados Government Information Service (BGIS), Barbados Today (BT), or by purchasing a Daily Nation Newspaper (DN).

JOBS FALLOUT – The fallout from the collapse of British tour operator Thomas Cook will leave at least 70 Barbadians on the breadline come November 1. The workers losing their jobs will be employees of Seawell Air Services Ltd, which will cease all operations at Grantley Adams International Airport on that date, leaving a little under half of the staff complement without jobs. Seawell Air Services employed over 170 workers, and only a little over 100 will be retained when the new operators open for business next month.The operations are being taken over by the Goddard Catering Group (GCG), a subsidiary of Goddard Enterprises Limited, which is based in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, United States. “Our business has decreased significantly because of the Thomas Cook collapse,” ground handling division manager of GCG, Bruno Barrientos, told the NATION yesterday by telephone link-up from Fort Lauderdale. “Thomas Cook was a very good customer of Seawell Air Services, and now they don’t exist anymore. There simply is no work for persons in some positions because of that. But, the majority of the staff will come on board. I cannot give an exact number because not all the offer papers have been given back to us, but we expect to bring back significantly more than half of the staff,” Barrientos said, while noting the new company was expecting a 15 to 20 per cent reduction in overall business revenue previously associated with Thomas Cook. (DN)

BLP HAS NEW CHAIRMAN – Senator Kay McConney is the Barbados Labour Party’s (BLP) new chairman. McConney, who is Minister of Innovation, Science and Smart Technology, was elected to the post during Saturday’s BLP Annual Convention at Queen’s Park. She takes over from former chairman George Payne, who served since 2016. Minister of People’s Empowerment and Elder Affairs Cynthia Forde was re-elected as first vice-president, Shanika Roberts-Odle was elected second vice-president while Kurt Haynes was elected third vice-president. (BT)

VERLA PUNCHES BACK – President of the Democratic Labour Party (DLP) Verla De Peiza is advising Prime Minister Mia Amor Mottley that rather than fire potshots at her, she should concentrate on the real gunfire that was claiming the lives of Barbadians on a monthly basis. Speaking hours after the island recorded its 40th murder for the year on Saturday night, she also suggested to Mottley that burdening taxpayers with a monthly salary for crime consultant, former commissioner of police Darwin Dottin, was not a strategy that was showing any success. During the Barbados Labour Party’s (BLP) 81st Annual Conference in Queen’s Park on Saturday, Mottley described Opposition Leader Bishop Joseph Atherley, De Peiza and Solutions Barbados’ leader Grenville Phillips as “Eenie, Meenie and Miney” who were poor alternatives to the BLP Government. Mottley went on to refer to De Peiza as a “political watchman” who, according to her, was simply “waiting for the real batsman to come in and take over”; as well as a political water lily hopping around trying to find a home in elective politics. De Peiza told the NATION the Prime Minister should have instead taken the time to speak to the safety of Barbadians and let them know if they would be seeing the backs of Dottin as well as Attorney General Dale Marshall. (DN)

YOUTH LEADERSHIP NEEDED – With the Democratic Labour Party (DLP) still recovering from a 30-nil defeat at the polls last year, one of its members is suggesting that there is a need for young, fresh blood to take the lead. Additionally, St Michael North West representative for the DLP Ryan Walters said there was a need for a wider involvement of youth in the planning of the country’s future. He made the comments while addressing a party function on Saturday at the DLP’s George Street headquarters. “Even without hard evidence, I believe we have a sense that much of the youth has left the DLP, and like myself, the DLP too must again place the youth back at the forefront of the party’s agenda. The party has a massive task ahead if it is to regain its place in government, and doing this requires that we recapture the trust and aspirations of the public, and youth in particular, to chart a prosperous, fair and sustainable way forward for the party and the country as a whole,” said Walters, who said he intends to place youth affairs at the forefront of his agenda. Walters, who took over from former Minister of Finance Chris Sinckler, is seeking to unseat the reigning Barbados Labour Party (BLP) Junior Minister Neil Rowe in the next election. Walters said he believed the country was still lacking opportunities for the youth and his party was poised to create the change needed. However, he said “as a party and as a country we would be deluding ourselves into thinking that charting this path can be done without genuine, longstanding participation and the prioritization of the youth in all that we do”. “The DLP and the country need a youthful and agile approach to how it thinks and operates. Barbados’ development can’t continue to be held back by the same age-old approaches and problems that have been ongoing for a generation,” he said. “We live in an era where we must be agile, innovative, technologically savvy, aware of the new and emerging opportunities and have a modern approach to governing our society, and who better to bring these characteristics than the youth,” he added. He told party supporters that it was important for the party leaders to speak about the plans to grow the economy and properly facilitate the youth in a range of sectors including sports, renewable energy, information and communication technology, entrepreneurship, videography and the creative sector. “We can’t growth and diversify this economy and better facilitate young people without putting some thought into the culture and the way we do things. As a party we must be forward thinking and explore policies such as flexi-time, the 24-hour economy, facilitating young people to work and contribute from their personal spaces, support digital communication, a 21st approach century education. We must rethink the cost of being connected for young people, open access policies for wi-fi, how do we facilitate unlimited data plans and unshackle young people from unnecessary limitations,” said Walters. “That is why we must go to people where they are and include them in all that we do. Some young people may want to create their own niches in animal farming, husbandry, hospitality and cuisine, tourism, marketing. These individuals too, must be allowed to make a living and prosper doing so. But the fact of the matter is if this party is really and truthfully looking to the future it must focus on the future and that is the young people of this country,” he warned. Stating that the youth were being held back by age-old problems, Walters said it was the constant lip service about creating opportunities that was preventing them from propelling the country forward. “For years we been talking a big game about facilitating the youth. None have talked a bigger game than this government. But ask young people today how they feel about their current circumstances and it becomes evident that much more needs to be done, and the DLP could get this done,” he insisted. “We’ve been getting plenty lip service and ill-conceived policies from this administration, but when you investigate the substance, the youth are no better off. The government has been bringing on individuals that I have to question what is the real value that they can bring to drive a prosperous, fair and sustainable future,” he said. (BT)

NEVIS PREMIERE SINGS MOTTLEY’S PRAISES – Barbados is back! This is the verdict of the Premier of Nevis and Minister of Foreign Affairs, St Kitts & Nevis, Mark Brantley who declared that he has seen since the re-emergence of Barbados to its rightful place of prominence on the regional and international stage under the Prime Minister Mia Amor Mottley. Describing Mottley as a Commander in Chief, Brantley said she has restored the regional and global relevance of Barbados. “PM Mottley has reignited the passions of the Barbadian people and created in her short time at the helm, the type of dialogue and narrative that has captured the attention of the region and the world,” Brantley said as he spoke to Barbados Labour Party’s (BLP) party faithful, at the 81st Annual Conference, Queens Park Sunday morning. “Let me tell you this morning, Mia Amor Mottley is no ordinary leader. The elements are so combined in her that all of us, even detractors, can admit that Barbados has now a leader of a special pedigree, a leader that comes along only once in our lifetime.” He told those gathered that Mottley does not offer pretty prose for policy, nor does she offer pedantry and pedagoguery for substantive practical solutions for the Barbadian people. The Premier said Mottley’s effort is not to sound like Shakespeare or Aristotle or Longfellow by quoting them, but rather to sound like herself, as she embodies the dreams and aspirations of Barbadian people and the BLP. (BT)

RELIGIOUS LEADER CALLS FOR NATIONAL VALUES – A religious leader is making a call for Barbados to have national values. As he spoke about the importance of having national values to build a stronger society, Apostle Eliseus Joseph suggested that compassion must be one of the values to ensure that nobody, regardless of their sex, colour, class or creed are marginalised. “We need a compassionate society because there is something called the politics of holiness. It creates a dualistic approach to life that you are either white or black, you are either clean or unclean; you either have a big nose or small nose. It is a dualistic device that the whole world has used to discriminate the weaker,” he said, as he delivered the sermon at the Barbados Labour Party thanksgiving service at Queen’s Park, this morning. In a fiery delivery, Joseph commended Prime Minister Mia Mottley’s leadership. He said Mottley wanted to deliver a “caring government in the absence of government and a caring economy in the absence of a downgrading economy to offer a regulated and upgraded economy”. “Oh my God I am so thankful that we are out of our domination. We are out of our oppression. Every Barbadian wants a government that cares. And I want to say honourable Prime Minister that you have brought to us a national vision and I want you to cascade that vision right to the very bottom, right to the lowest person in Barbados. “The question before us is how can we cascade this into government, into the civil service? How can we develop a caring civil service? How can we develop a caring Police Force? How can we develop a caring school that doesn’t allow people to drop through the cracks? . . . Madam you have one of the greatest visions and I want you to push this vision right through,” he said. However, Joseph said that revolution in change is not only about changing leadership, but also values. “We got to change the values because there is a particular value in Barbados that predisposed the past administration to do what they did. We got to change the values and one of the values that we have to propagate is compassion. We have to be compassionate to each other. We can no longer have whites or blacks operating in separate places.” Joseph also voiced concerns about Barbados’ aging population, which is having an effect on the economy. He said there must be conversation about increasing the population, possibly through migration. “We need people to carry some weight. Barbadians have been riding free for too long,” he said.(BT)

VETERINARY OFFICERS RECEIVE AMR TRAINING – Two veterinary services officers in the Ministry of Agriculture and Food Security recently received Antimicrobial Resistance (AMR) training in Argentina. After the successful launching of the Triangular Cooperation Project Argentina/PAHO/CARICOM on Antimicrobial Resistance (AMR) in Bridgetown, Senior Animal Health Assistant, Bryan Sanford, and Veterinary Laboratory Technologist, Kerrilyn Pilgrim, travelled to Buenos Aires, to attend training sessions at Argentine Food Safety and Quality Service Agency (SENASA), from Sunday, October 20, to Friday, October 25. This South/South collaborative initiative is in line with Argentina´s commitment to fostering stronger ties with the Caribbean, in areas such as Agriculture, Sports, Food Security, Fish Waste Silage and Honey Production. Argentine Ambassador to Barbados, Gustavo Martinez Pandiani, highlighted that “antimicrobial resistance causes death, illness, and economic challenges worldwide. Its spread undermines the efficacy and effectiveness of treatments for infections. That is why AMR is recognized today not only as a major public health problem, but also as a huge developmental challenge. This cooperation project aims to build capacity and support the region in achieving compliance with the International Health Regulations”. Ambassador Pandiani, praised PAHO and the Ministry of Agriculture and Food Security for their contribution, and pointed out: “The commitment of Argentina to this ambitious initiative is reflected in the involvement of three ministries of our national government: Health, Foreign Affairs and Agriculture, and two of our most prestigious specialized agencies: SENASA and Instituto Malbrán (National Infectious Diseases Institute).” Sanford and Pilgrim, who participated in the seminar, described the training as very productive and useful, in that Barbados could utilize the information to develop and implement a national action plan against antimicrobial resistance, and protect the health of our people and animals. The week-long training in Buenos Aires also allowed the Barbadian officers the opportunity to share experiences, frameworks and guidelines with their Argentine counterparts. (BT)

FOGGING SCHEDULE – The Ministry of Health and Wellness will continue its fogging programme in four parishes this week in its effort to rid the island of the Aedes aegypti mosquito, from 4:30 to 7:30 pm each day. On Monday, October 28, the team from the Vector Control Unit will fog the following St Peter districts: Diamond Corner, Lower Castle, Upper Castle, Boscobelle, Collins, Date Tree Hill, The Risk and environs. The team will return to the north of the island on Tuesday, October 29, and visit the St Peter and St James districts of Battaleys, Risk Road, Cemetery Road, Mullins, Mullins Terrace with Avenues, Gibbs, Gibbs Glade, Piedmont Road, Lower Carlton with Avenues, and surrounding areas. On Wednesday, October 30, the fogging team will journey to St. Michael and spray Culloden Road, Dalkeith Village, Tamarind Avenue, Chapel Place, Beckles Road, Jessamine Avenue, Pipers Avenues, Curwin Avenue, Brownes Avenue, Lukes Avenue, Bay Street, Chelsea Road, and environs. St Michael will be visited again on Thursday, October 31, and the following areas will be targeted: Highgate Gardens, Collymore Rock, Burkes Land, Eversley Road, Brittons New Road, Reece Land, Valerie, Brittons Cross Road, Beckles Road, Villa Road, Laynes Road, Scotts Gap and surrounding districts. Fogging will culminate in Christ Church on Friday, November 1, at Vauxhall, Vauxhall Gardens, Vauxhall Tenantry Road, Poinsettia Avenue, Primrose Avenue, Casuarina Avenue, Hibiscus Avenue, Warners Terrace, Briar Hall and environs. Householders are reminded to open their windows and doors to allow the fog to penetrate, while persons with respiratory illnesses are urged to protect themselves from inhaling the fog. (BT)

BARBADOS MOVE UP IN FIFA RANKINGS – Buoyed BY Barbados’ move up the FIFA rankings by ten places, senior men’s national head coach Russell “The Little Magician” Latapy says he wants to see the Tridents taking on higher-ranked teams. The Barbados Tridents are now positioned at 160 along with Grenada in the latest rankings following their 4-0 away victory against the United States Virgin Islands (USVI) in St Croix earlier this month after edging St Martin 1-0 at home. “The players have to take the credit for it because they have bought into what we are trying to do. It’s fair play to the players that they have committed themselves to what we’re trying to achieve and develop,” Latapy said. (DN)

There are 65 days left in the year Shalom! Follow us on Twitter, Facebook & Instagram for your daily news. #thechasefiles #dailynewscaps #bajannewscaps #newsinanutshell

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odk-2 · 7 years ago

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Happy Canada Day

The Diamonds - Little Darlin’ (1957): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2LtU9Ic

Jack Scott and The Chantones - The Way I Walk (1958): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1pe_-oJ

Bob and Lucille - Eeny-Meeny-Miney-Moe (1958): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk29BdOgw

Les Jaguars - Supersonic Twist (1963): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2IaCCnx

Donna Lynn - That Winter Weekend: (1964): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2G2xfg_

The Guess Who - Shakin’ All Over (1965): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2GOmkiL

Steppenwolf - Magic Carpet Ride (Album Version) (1968): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1rUJtiP

Steppenwolf - Sookie Sookie (1968): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2MEBDbu

Steppenwolf - Born to Be Wild (1968): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1rULxDb

Joni Mitchell - Big Yellow Taxi (Guitar and Vocals Only Version) (1970): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1iwSSUU

Joni Mitchell - Big Yellow Taxi (1970): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1iwQH04

Simply Saucer - Illegal Bodies (Live) (1975): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2Eyqxvv

Martha and The Muffins - Echo Beach (1979): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1lg65M2

Jane Siberry - Mimi on the Beach (1984): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1-peRRz

M + M - Nation of Followers (1984): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2MhgZNg

Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet - Having an Average Weekend (1985): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2La1mAG

Payola$ - Eyes of a Stranger (1982): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2JqsTmm

Men Without Hats - Pop Goes the World (1987): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1ocHvZa

Men Without Hats - In the 21st Century (1989): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1ocKbhv

Men Without Hats - Safety Dance (Album Version) (1982): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1u1u5TJ

Men Without Hats - I Got the Message (1982): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1ocFDJb

Nash the Slash - Psychotic Reaction (1984): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1t4vpgh

Nash the Slash - Dead Man’s Curve (1981): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2IiulvI

Nash the Slash - 19th Nervous Breakdown (1981): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1t4sl6m

Nash the Slash - American Bandstand Boogie / American Band (1984): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk28qD5Vr

Rough Trade - High School Confidential (1980): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1mefr8h

Rough Trade - Sexual Outlaw (1984): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1j1NYHs

Rough Trade - Crimes of Passion (1982): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1meifR7

Trans-X - 3-D Dance (12" Remix) (1983): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1ocAR-q

Blue Peter - Radio Silence (1980): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1rLS6_5

Red Rider - Lunatic Fringe (1981): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1uCYUK_

Rational Youth - Ring the Bells (1982): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2Fx2-1T

The Tragically Hip - I’m a Werewolf, Baby (1987): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1x9poEx

Teenage Head - Some Kinda Fun (1982): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk20vm6x_

Doug and The Slugs - Too Bad (1980): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1pudFSp

54-40 - I Go Blind (1986): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk29Tj4x3

The Pursuit of Happiness - I’’m an Adult Now (1989): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk1w18SrY

Cowboy Junkies - A Common Disaster (1996): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2NAvywa

Rich Hope and His Evil Doers - I See Trouble (2010): https://tmblr.co/ZoHQpk2GnBTYu

Leonard Cohen: http://odk-2.tumblr.com/search/Leonard+Cohen

Neil Young: http://odk-2.tumblr.com/search/Neil+Young

~ All Audio Links Working When Posted ~ (Can't Guarantee They'll Stay That Way)

#Canada Day #Canada #Canadian

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herrnarkejaponica · 3 years ago

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Repost & List 5 Songs That Inspire You To Write Your Muse!

Tagged By: the dash Tagging: anyone who wants to!

“Mistreated” - as covered by Alan Cumming, on the Strange Magic soundtrack I’ve been mistreated I’ve been abused I’ve been trespassed and invaded And I am not amused I’ve been insulted Disrespected I’ve been mistreated

“Thankless Job” - by Anthony Stewart Head, on the Repo! the Genetic Opera soundtrack No one ever thanks me when I’m done How self-absorbed people can be With a slice and a snip Eenie meenie miney mo With a cut and a stitch... It’s a thankless job But somebody’s got to do it Like a mop and a broom No one wants a thankless job

“Der Wanderer, D. 493(, Op. 4/1): Ich Komme Vom Gebirge Her” - by Franz Schubert [translated from German] I wander, silent and joyless, And my sighs for ever ask: Where? Here the sun seems so cold, The blossom faded, life old, And men’s words mere hollow noise; I am a stranger everywhere... I wander, silent and joyless, And my sighs for ever ask: Where? In a ghostly whisper the answer comes: There, where you are not, is happiness!

“Be Prepared” - by Jeremy Irons, on the The Lion King soundtrack So prepare for the coup of the century Be prepared for the murkiest scam Meticulous planning Tenacity spanning Decades of denial Is simply why I’ll Be king undisputed Respected, saluted And seen for the wonder I am Yes, my teeth and ambitions are bared Be prepared!

“Childhood (Don’t) A Go-Go” by Dr. Steel Shake it up Like an Etch-A-Sketch Erase the filthy wretch Of the life I have rejected now Well, Simon says ‘grow up’ And Simon says ‘shut up’ And Simon says ‘give up And be like everyone else’... And I am constructing this fantasy Imagination is saving me From the world I despise And what about loneliness? What about friends? What about winning And getting revenge? And what about all of the things that they’ve done? It’s time for some payback It’s time for some fun! It’s gone It’s gone It’s gone Don’t go away, don’t go away, don’t go away and leave me...

#headcanons

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roseleinrarities · 6 years ago

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Eenie meenie miney mo...which box purse is your favorite? These four vintage beauties from the mid-century are brand-new to the shop...and the green one has already sold. The first one shown is an ultra-rare, extra-large, all-Lucite Wilardy in exquisite condition--that's MY favorite! 💛 . . . . . . . . . . . . #vintage #vintagepurse #vintagepurses #vintageboxpurse #wilardy #lucite #lucitepurse #collectiblepurses #wilardypurse #vintagefashion #1950s #1950spurse #style #love #midcentury #pinupgirl #eeniemeenie #etsy #etsyvintage #etsyfinds #etsylove #vintageclothing https://www.instagram.com/p/Bpmkey8gZoe/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=boqn0adxr0lz

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kidsviral-blog · 6 years ago

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The Terrifying True Origins Of Favorite Childhood Stories. YIKES.

New Post has been published on https://kidsviral.info/the-terrifying-true-origins-of-favorite-childhood-stories-yikes/

The Terrifying True Origins Of Favorite Childhood Stories. YIKES.

As it turns out, children’s stories aren’t all puppies and sunshine (no matter what you thought growing up). As it turns out, most of the famous nursery rhymes and fairy tales have a really dark origin.

1. Cinderella: Mutilation and Murder

Wikimedia Commons/Alexander Zick

“So, if I agree to feed you, you’ll totally blind my step-sisters, right?”

There are many different versions of the Cinderella story from all over the world, the earliest known variant being the Greco-Egyptian tale of Rhodopis. Most people today, though, know the story of Cinderella through Disney’s 1950 animated version. This version is based almost exactly on the 1697 version of Cendrillon by French author Charles Perrault, with some singing mice added in for fun. But this is the nice version. There are two others that were deemed unfit, and rightly so, for children. The Grimm brothers’ Aschenputtel features the wicked stepsisters getting their comeuppance by first slicing off bits of their feet to get into the famed slipper, which has been, over the years, glass, gold and fur. When that doesn’t work, they still attend the wedding, only to have their eyes pecked out by birds. The Italian version, Zezolla, or “Cat Cinderella,” by Giambattista Basile, finds the Cinderella figure killing her step mother by breaking her neck.

2. Sleeping Beauty: Corpses and Sexual Assault

Wikimedia Commons/Gustave Dore

“Ugh, we really have to clean this castle out when you wake up.”

The Grimms’ Sleeping Beauty, also called Briar Rose, plays out similarly to Disney’s 1959 animated feature. Except for the hundreds of rotting bodies. See, everyone in the castle falls asleep for a hundred years and exists in a magical suspended animation. Outside, a thick forest of thorn bushes grow, preventing anyone from coming in and breaking the spell. That doesn’t stop people from trying, though, and as a result, they all die in the thorns. A century after the spell is cast, it expires and the briars simply turn into flowers by the time the lucky prince happens by. The flowers probably didn’t really help with all those corpses lying around, though. Going back farther, we find that, like with Cinderella, the Grimms borrowed heavily from a Basile story called “Sun, Moon and Talia,” in which Talia, the Sleeping Beauty figure, is raped by a king while she sleeps and gives birth to twins. The babies are born while she’s still sleeping, and wake her by sucking an enchanted splinter from under her fingernail. She marries the rapist king, but his jealous mother attempts to have the babies killed and served at dinner and to burn Talia, but everything works out and the queen is burned instead. Happily ever after!

3. Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary: Torture, Religious Persecution and Political Upheaval

“Ha ha, where did you think I got those heads?”

Though there’s some dispute, this little rhyme is commonly associated with Queen Mary I of England, otherwise known as “Bloody Mary,” and who is possibly the origin of the mirror chanting tradition as well. She reigned for only five years, from 1553 to 1558, and was a fierce upholder of the Roman Catholic faith. During her short reign, she executed hundreds of Protestants. The “silver bells” and “cockle shells” are said to be torture devices, while “how does your garden grow” may refer to her lack of heirs. Conversely, the rhyme is also said to be about Mary, Queen of Scots or about Catholicism itself.

4. Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Moe: Racism

Flickr/John Liu

“Eeny meeny…oh, isn’t there a rhyme that can help me choose that comes with less baggage?”

A favorite of indecisive schoolchildren everywhere, there’s nothing immediately about this rhyme. However, a tiger was not originally what they were catching by his toe. No, “tiger” is a relatively recent replacement for the original, which was the n-word. How charming. Even though most people don’t know this, it’s still an uncomfortable truth about the rhyme’s past and will probably leave a bad taste in your mouth. However, there have also been many similar “choosing” rhymes with origins in Ireland, England and Germany, usually using nonsense words and lacking blatant racism. That part came in with the American versions.

5. Snow White: More Torture

Wikimedia Commons/Franz Jüttner

“Oh, you’re alive? Well…okay.”

If you thought the 1937 Disney version where the prince kisses what’s essentially a dead person in the middle of the woods was weird, you haven’t even begun to dig into this story, which, by the way, also has variants from all over the world. For one thing, the Grimm’s version, which the Disney one is based on, has the wicked queen trying to kill Snow White three times, and in the end, the wicked queen is forced to wear red-hot iron shoes and dance in them until she falls down dead. The Grimms were really into cruel and unusual punishment. But wait. It gets better. Another Basile story, “The Young Slave,” has a young girl being poisoned and placed in seven nesting crystal coffins. However, she grows while in her magical coma. She’s wakened by a jealous aunt who beats her and makes her a slave until she is saved by her uncle, who helps her restore her health and marries her off to a baron. This story might have influenced both Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.

6. The Hunchback of Notre Dame: Even More Torture and Execution

Flickr/universalstonecutter

“We’re in a Victor Hugo novel? Oh, this isn’t going to end well.”

In Victor Hugo’s original, Quasimodo is still in love with the beautiful gypsy girl Esmeralda, and acts as a liaison between her and her lover, the already-engaged Phoebus. Also, in the book, she’s not actually of Roma heritage, because racism, and was actually kidnapped as a child. Anyway, the lustful Archdeacon also desires Esmeralda, and when he finds out about her tryst with Phoebus, he stabs Phoebus and frames her for the attempted murder. Both she and Quasimodo are tortured, and Esmeralda is hanged for murder and her body tossed into a mass grave. Quasimodo crawls in after her and curls up around her corpse and dies. Many years later, the crypt is opened, and their skeletons are found wrapped around each other. Yeah, the Disney version is a lot happier.

7. Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush: Prison Workouts

Wikimedia Commons

“This is pretty nice for a prison yard.”

Legend has it that this rhyme originated in Wakefield Prison, and English prison for women, where the inmates were brought outside to exercise around a shrub or tree in the yard in the mornings. Mulberries, actually, grow on trees, not bushes, but it’s still an interesting theory.

8. Ring Around the Rosie: Maybe Not the Plague, but Subversion at least

Wikimedia Commons/Jessie Wilcox Smith

“Do we have the plague yet?”

The rhyme is famed for “actually” being about the Bubonic Plague, and I thought this, too, for a long time. “Ring around the rosie” was supposed to reference a skin rash that signified the onset of the plague, and “pocketful of posies” referred to the flowers people carried to mask the stench of death, which was believed to cause the illness. “Ashes” was thought to be a corruption of “achoo” as sneezing or coughing fits were the last symptom before “we all fall down.” You know, as in dead. However, historians highly doubt this. the rhyme first appears in writing in 1881, well after any major plague outbreaks. Early versions of the rhyme don’t even include lyrics about ashes or falling down and mainly seem to be about literal flowers. More than likely, the rhyme was simply rhythmic and charming, and was used by teenagers to subvert religious bans on dancing in the nineteenth century. Like with the Mulberry Bush rhyme, it’s possible that these have no “hidden meanings,” but rather that people just like to dance in circles.

9. The Little Mermaid: Suicide

Wikimedia Commons/Edmund Dulac

“Okay, maybe I didn’t think this through.”

Hans Christian Andersen was not a cheerful guy, and his best known fables, this and The Little Match Girl, are evidence of this. In the original mermaid story, the mermaid, in love with a human prince, has her tongue cut out to become a human and, hopefully, win him over. Being a human is painful, though, and it feels like she’s walking on knives. But her love is so great, she dances for the prince anyway. The prince, though, ends up marrying another girl, who he really loves, and the mermaid is heartbroken. The only way for her to return to the sea, though, is to kill the prince. She can’t bring herself to do it, though, and hurls herself into the ocean, where she turns into sea foam. Later, Andersen amended the ending and had her become a “spirit of the air,” because I guess that’s more cheerful?

So, can you still look at your favorite childhood stories and rhymes the same way? Don’t worry, there are plenty more messed-up fairy tales from all over the world, some that stem from actual historical issues, and some just speak to the weirder parts of the human psyche.

Read more: http://viralnova.com/mary-mary-no/

#fairy tale origins #fairy tales #nursery rhyme origins #nursery rhymes

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unfilteredpatriot · 7 years ago

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New Post has been published on Unfiltered Patriot

New Post has been published on http://unfilteredpatriot.com/guess-which-classic-christmas-song-is-now-considered-racist/

Guess Which Classic Christmas Song is Now Considered Racist?

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You weren’t thinking you and your white privilege were going to get all the way through the Christmas holidays without feeling some shame for being white and privileged and Christian and American, were you? Well, maybe you’re not any of those things and maybe you’re all of them, but either way, you’re going to have to sit through another holiday season filled with the racial idiocies that this nation’s divisive, opportunistic morons love to throw around. Because, after all, nothing says Christmas like reminding everyone that America sucks and so do white people.

According to a “theater history professor” at Boston University named Kyna Hamill, nothing will be spared the wrath of racial grievance, not even our beloved Christmas carols. According to her interview with the Boston Globe, “Jingle Bells” is rooted in a racist history and should probably be stricken from the holiday playlist.

“It was first performed in this blackface minstrel hall in Boston in 1857,” Hamill said.

Uh-oh!

From the Boston Globe:

Hamill found that such onstage minstrel shows were part of a larger genre of satire at the time that “lampooned” black participation in wintry activities such as sleigh riding. The field often depicted black people “behaving foolishly, grotesquely, and incompetently.” Performances of “Jingle Bells” included stereotyped “dandy” characters that mockingly portrayed black people within Northern culture.

The song, however, has since “eluded its racialized past” and is “a prime example” of how some popular 19th century music’s “blackface and racist origins have been subtly and systematically removed from its history,” according to Hamill. It wasn’t until decades later that it became a Christmas song, much less the popular holiday anthem it is today. Upon the festive recitations of the song each season, there’s likely not much reflection upon its origins profiting off the racist caricatures of black people.

To be fair to Hamill, her point is less about getting rid of “Jingle Bells” and more about examining the dueling ownership claims the town of Medford, MA and Savannah, GA place on it, but we’re sure it’s only a matter of time before some black activism blog takes up the cause. After all, we’ve seen them go after such perennial ditties as “Eenie Meenie Miney Mo” and the National Anthem, so it should not be much of a stretch for them to start chopping away at our collective Christmas catalog. Rule of thumb: If it manages to make white people upset, that’s a good thing.

Because, yeah, that’s really working out well for them so far…

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kidsviral-blog · 7 years ago

Text

The Terrifying True Origins Of Favorite Childhood Stories. YIKES.

New Post has been published on https://kidsviral.info/the-terrifying-true-origins-of-favorite-childhood-stories-yikes/

The Terrifying True Origins Of Favorite Childhood Stories. YIKES.

1. Cinderella: Mutilation and Murder

Wikimedia Commons/Alexander Zick

“So, if I agree to feed you, you’ll totally blind my step-sisters, right?”

2. Sleeping Beauty: Corpses and Sexual Assault

Wikimedia Commons/Gustave Dore

“Ugh, we really have to clean this castle out when you wake up.”

3. Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary: Torture, Religious Persecution and Political Upheaval

“Ha ha, where did you think I got those heads?”

4. Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Moe: Racism

Flickr/John Liu

“Eeny meeny…oh, isn’t there a rhyme that can help me choose that comes with less baggage?”

5. Snow White: More Torture

Wikimedia Commons/Franz Jüttner

“Oh, you’re alive? Well…okay.”

6. The Hunchback of Notre Dame: Even More Torture and Execution

Flickr/universalstonecutter

“We’re in a Victor Hugo novel? Oh, this isn’t going to end well.”

7. Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush: Prison Workouts

Wikimedia Commons

“This is pretty nice for a prison yard.”

8. Ring Around the Rosie: Maybe Not the Plague, but Subversion at least

Wikimedia Commons/Jessie Wilcox Smith

“Do we have the plague yet?”

9. The Little Mermaid: Suicide

Wikimedia Commons/Edmund Dulac

“Okay, maybe I didn’t think this through.”

Read more: http://viralnova.com/mary-mary-no/

#fairy tale origins #fairy tales #nursery rhyme origins #nursery rhymes

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