Detroit teachers stage âsickoutâ over horrible conditions, force schools to close
Eighty-eight of Detroitâs 97 public schools were closed Wednesday when teachers participated in a districtwide âsickoutâ to push for demands related to school conditions and their rights as employees. The protests align with a very high profile visitor in Detroit.
Whatâs crazy is itâs been like this since I was a child and prolly even before that.. My mother is a DPS school teacher and ainât much changed, if anything things have gotten worse. Sheâs been buying school supplies for her students for as long as I can remember.
this is why i think itâs really funny when people condemn âthird world countriesâ and act like amerikkka is the greatest country in the world.  because this country lets shit like this happen all over the place and lets people starve to death
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anonymous leaked bolsonaroâs private info including his credit card number and someone on twitter bought a whole ass macbook pro with it. yes. a person bought an macbook pro with the presidentâs credit card. this country really isnât for beginners
hey, brazilian person here. it may all sound funny and shit (and damn, he even got affiliated to many left wing parties) but⌠heâs been trying to insure a dictatorship even since he got elected. thereâs been protests against democracy and heâs been attending them all (without a mask, btw. meanwhile, almost 30k have died of coronavirus, we still got no health minister, even if i called it anarchy we still would prefer anarchy cause this is a whole new level). we are now standing in solidarity with USA! our police system is the most deadly in the world, killing 2x more than the american, specially young black kids. if you can, please keep an eye out for us and sign the petition justice for JoĂŁo Pedro
PAY ATTENTION TO BRAZIL. BLACK PEOPLE ARE BEING KILLED EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. AND SEVERAL OF THEM ARE FUCKING KIDS.
the one petition everyone is sharing is for JoĂŁo Pedro, was was killed inside his home, he was shot on his back. 70, and i repeat, 70 shots were fired against the house he was in, and the police claimed it was because they were in a confront. everyone near his house confirmed there wasnât anything going around.
but thatâs just the tip of the iceberg.
SAY THEIR NAMES
LUCAS CUSTĂDIO DOS SANTOS. he was a sixteen years old boy who got shot on his leg after returning from a soccer game. his last words were âyou donât have to kill me, sirâ
CARLOS MAGNO DE OLIVEIRA NASCIMENTO (18 yo, student), CARLOS ALBERTO DA SILVA (21 yo, painter and bricklawyer) EVERSON GONĂALVES SILOTE (26 yo, taxi driver) AND THIAGO DA COSTA CORREIA DA SILVA (19 yo, mechanic). They were killed on an event now known as âChacina do Borelâ it happened in 2003 and no one was held responsible.
HERINALDO VINICIUS DE SANTANA. he was an eleven years old boy who left his house to buy a ping pong ball. he was with money on his hands. His last words were âI want my momâ
ALAN DE SOUZA LIMA. He was fifteen and his last words âwe were just playing, sirâ
DOUGLAS RODRIGUES, 17 years old. His last words: âWhy did you shoot me, Sr?â. The policemen was acquitted for lack of evidence.
REMEMBER MATEUS SANTOS DE MORAIS, FIVE YEARS OLD. FIVE. YEARS. OLD. He got shot while playing in front of his house. SAY HIS NAME.
ĂGATHA FELIX. 8 YEARS OLD. She was returning home with her mother when she got shot. FOR NO REASON. SAY HER NAME.
FABIO DOS SANTOS VIERA, 21 years. He was shot because, according to the police, he was holding a gun. That gun was never found.
EVALDO DOS SANTOS ROSA, 51 years old. 257 SHOTS FIRED AT HIS CAR. SAY HIS NAME. His family was inside of it too, including a 7 year old kid. Evaldo died instantly. NO JUSTICE NO PEACE
MATHEUS OLIVEIRA, 23. The Police got >>scared<< and shot him in the head. He had just become a father.
MARCUS VINICIUS, 14 years. shot during a police operation while returning from school, his last words:â Didnât they see that I was wearing school clothes, mom?â.
EMILLY CAETANO DA COSTA, 9 years old, was shot two times on the back. The police said the vehicle her family was in was suspicious. They chased the car and shot five times. Her mom, dad, and two sisters were in the car.
LUCAS, 14 years old,disappeared after some cops take him out from his home, his body was found floating at a lake in a park.
MARIA EDUARDA, 13 YEARS OLD. Killed inside of her SCHOOL! SAY HER NAME
victims of the Costa Barros massacre, killed by the police with 111 SHOTS while celebrating the youngestâs first salary.
Wilton Estever Domingos Jr, 20. Wesley Castro Rodrigues, 25. Cleiton CorrĂŞa de Souza, 18. Carlos Eduardo Silva Souza, 16. Roberto Silva de Souza, 16. Victims of the Costa Barros massacre, killed by the police with 111 SHOTS while celebrating the youngestâs first salary.
PEDRO GONZAGA, 19, killed by a supermarket security guard. He was suffocated and suffered cardiac arrest.
KETELLEN GOMES, 5 years old. Was riding her bike when she was shot during a police operation. Her last words was âMom, donât cry, no, momâ. The target from the shooters was Davi Gabriel Martins Nascimento, 17 years old, who also died.
75% of those killed by the police in Brazil are black.
Black people are 147% more likely to be murdered than white people in this country.
Brazil currently has the highest rate of killing of Blacks in the world outside Africa. It far surpasses the U.S.
EVERY 23 SECONDS, A BLACK PERSON IS KILLED IN BRAZIL.
here is a google doc of resources to support george floyd, ahmaud arbery, roy stoddart, and the many, many, many other wrongfully murdered black people in the united states â as well as the black lives matter movement in general
please share this link or post to anyone and everyone
[Boyega]: I want to thank every single one of you for coming out. This is very importantâthis is very vital. Black lives have always mattered! We have always been important. We have always meant something. We have always succeeded regardless, and now is the time. I ainât waiting! I ainât waiting! I have been born in this country, Iâm 28 years old, born and raised in London, Iâve grown tiredâevery black person understands and realizes the first time you are reminded that you are black. You remember, every black person in here remembers, when another person reminded you that you are black. So none of you out there, all those protestors on the other side protesting against what we want to do, protesting against what we want to try and achieve, [?] you, because this is so vital.
[Other voices, to crowd]: Sit down! Sit down!
[Boyega]: Sit down, guys, we have to sit down. If you could sit down, if you can sit down. Now I need you guys to understand, I need you to understand now how painful this shit is! I need you to understand how painful it is to be reminded every day that your race means nothing! And that isnât the case anymore. That is never the case anymore. We are going to try todayâwe are a physical representation of our support for George Floyd.
[Crowd cheers]
[Boyega]: We are a physical representation of our support for Sandra Bland! We are a physical representation of our support for Trayvon Martin! We are a physical representation of our support for Stephen Lawrence! For Mark Duggan! It is very, very important that we keep control of this moment and we make this as peaceful as possible. We make this as peaceful and as organized as possible. Because you know what, guys, they want us to mess up. They want us to be disorganized. But not today! Not today!
[Other voices]: Not today!
[Boyega]: Not today! And now this message is specifically for black men. Black men, weâ[Boyega cuts off, crying and bending over from emotion]
[Crowd]: Speak! Speak!
[Other voices]: You can do this, youâve got this.
[Boyega]: Black men, black men, we need to take care of our black women. We need to take care of them! They are our hearts! They are our hearts, they are our future, we cannot demonize our own. We are the pillars of the family. Imagine this, a nation that is set up with individual families that are thriving, that are healthy, that communicate, that raise their children in love, have a better rate of becoming better human beings, and thatâs what we need to create. Black men, it starts with you, and itâs done, manâwe canât be trash no more. We have to be better.
You donât understand, Iâm speaking to you from the heart. Look, I donât know if Iâm going to have a career after this. But fuck that--[words bleeped out]. This, today, is about innocent people who were halfway through their process. We donât know what George Floyd could have achieved; we donât know what Sandra Bland could have achieved. But today weâre going to make sure that that wonât be an alien thought to our young ones. Iâm sure you lot came today, you left your kids, and when you see your kids there aimlessly playing, they donât understand whatâs going on. Today is the day that we remind them that we are dedicated, and this is a lifelong dedication. Guys, we donât leave here and stop, you know. We donât leave here and stop. This is longevity. Some of you are artists, some of you are bankers, some of you are lawyers, some of you own shops, stores. You are important. Your individual power, your individual right, is very, very important. We can all join together to make this a better world. We can all join together to make this special. We can all join together!
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Actually this is Louisville KY. Wave 3 is a local news station that covers Kentucky and Indiana and the people there are protesting the death of Breonna Taylor. I know that us Kentuckians might be small compared to Minneapolis, but please donât forget Breonna or the seven people who were shot the other night during protest, one in critical condition. You may not hear as much about Kentucky, but when the news station literally says Louisville, this is just lazy.
"She said protesters took her to hospital after the police shot her, giving her medical supplies and acting as her eyes after her own became bloodied and swollen."
Emphasis mine, in case anyone needs reminding on who the villains are
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No. YOU DONâT GET TO DO THIS AND SLIP UNDER THE RADAR. Anyone whoâs seeing this, I beg you to reblog. I want as many people to see this shit as possible.
this is really true tho!!! my uncle was a cop in NY & FL and they taught him to shoot first if he had to. anytime a cop feels threatened (and they basically teach cops theyâre always threatened) they can shoot. its rlly sick psychological torture shit to help create a police state tbh
Also! Click here to contact his organization and remind him of the blood on his hands. These are his murders too, and everyone involved deserves to feel the weight of guilt.Â
you can get clear plastic rubber spacers to put in your piercings if youre worried about them closing. stage makeup is made to be completely opaque and sweat proof consider using this for covering up tattoos, concealer is not opaque enough. leave your id and wallet at home, bring a change pouch for cash. write important numbers on your arms and legs. dont just turn your location off turn your whole phone off with the battery and sim card out, only turn it on unless you need too (if you have an iphone keep it at home and get a contact/safety buddy). pin your house keys, change pouch or anything small and important on the inside of your pants or the inside of pockets to prevent losses during physical altercations. double up on socks they become pockets, and are great if you cant leave your debit/credit card at home.
to truly protect you identity you need to cover your hair, get dark sunglasses, a mask that covers around your face, a bandana and the masks we us to stop covid frm spreading show too much skin, which is really important for black and brown folks to cover, all black gloves, black shirt/jacket and pants. tuck your pants legs into your shoes or socks to help prevent them getting caught on things or pulled off.
skip oil based lotions and hair care products bc tear gas binds to oils, it also binds to many other things like clothes so dressing in layers or having backup clothes in a black backpack help, also keep plastic bags incase u need to change out of your gassed clothes and dont wanna keep them in your bag.
Be careful about where you write a phone number. Fox News zoomed in on a protesterâs arm one time so that their viewers could call and harass the emergency contact person
hereâs the link to donate to george floydâs official memorial fund if you are able to contribute. if you canât donate, please share. being black shouldnât be a death sentence.
if youâre lgbt and a transmisogynist like iâm really sorry youâre an idiot and donât realize trans women literally created this community cause thatâs really sad, like we wouldnât have a community without them. you waving your pitchfork and incomprehensible rhetoric  to thank them is sad. and all iâm gonna feel in response is utter secondhand embarrassment for how stupid you are. like youâre dumb bye
No, Iâm serious, if women all got together and went into electrical engineering or automotive repair en masse, then ten years later people would be talking about how it was a âsoft fieldâ and it would pay proportionately less than other fields.
Likewise, if men moved en masse to bedeck themselves in sparkles and make-up, then suddenly youâd get a bunch of editorials talking about how classy they look.
None of these things are inherently masculine or feminine; none of these things inherently elevate you or drag you down. But whatever women are seen to do is automatically seen as being inherently more frivolous than anything men do. And shaming women for not pigeonholing themselves into a narrow range of acceptable âmasculineâ behaviours is just going to result in the goalposts getting moved once again.
I honestly wonder how much of the backlash against public education in the last generation has been due to teaching becoming a woman-dominated profession.
Fashion used to be a menâs thing. Then women got involved in the late 17/1800âs, so men went the other way because it came to be seen as âfrivolousâ and âanti-intellectualâ to care about how you looked. Add in the homophobia that arose around that time, bam, staid bland dress. Ditto leggings/tights, that are now called attention-whoring when on men they were required to show you cared about your figure and had the money to pay for such a fitted item.Â
People want to say misogyny doesnât exist, that male privilege doesnât exist. Look beyond âliving memoryâ and youâll find thatâs what drives the âinexplicable reversalsâ society seems to make on many things. Hell, just look beyond your own society, and youâll find out that whatâs considered âfor menâ elsewhere is held in high esteem while here itâs scoffed at purely because itâs âfor womenâ:Â
Skinny jeans are the height of masculinity in several east Asian societies, rather than being seen as âgayâ in the USA because of their association with femininity.Â
Medical fields in Russia are valued like kindergarten teachers are here, because itâs women who are the doctors instead of men.
Love and romance are highly valued in eastern countries, because men are interested in it tooâof course they would be, surely you want to share your life with someone? Here, itâs strictly a womenâs subject.
The field of anthropology as a whole illustrates this.
Significantly higher proportions of females compared to males are currently entering the fields of archaeology and biological anthropology, and as this occurs, the prestige, funding, acceptance as valid kinds of science, etc, are fading quickly.
This has already occurred with linguistic anthropology and cultural anthropology. Cultural anthropology in particular went VERY quickly from being seen as a manly, scientific discipline (e.g., Franz Boas, BronisĹaw Malinowski) to being seen as a touchy-feely female thing.
Letâs examine a traditionally male-dominated role that is very well-respected, and well-paid, in many parts of the world â that of a doctor. In the UK, it is listed as one of the top ten lucrative careers, and the average annual income of a family doctor in the US is well into six figures. It also confers on you significant social status, and a common stereotype in Asian communities is of parents encouraging their children to become doctors.
One of my lecturers at university once presented us with this thought exercise: why are doctors so highly paid, and so well-respected? Our answers were predictable. Because they save lives, their skills are extremely important, and it takes years and years of education to become one. All sound, logical reasons. But these traits that doctors possess are universal. So why is it, she asked, that doctors in Russia are so lowly paid? Making less than ÂŁ7,500 a year, it is one of the lowest paid professions in Russia, and poorly respected at that. Why is this?
The answer is crushingly, breathtakingly simple. In Russia, the majority of doctors are women. Hereâs a quote from Carol Schmidt, a geriatric nurse practitioner who toured medical facilities in Moscow: âTheir status and pay are more like our blue-collar workers, even though they require about the same amount of training as the American doctor⌠medical practice is stereotyped as a caring vocation ânaturally suitedâ to women, [which puts it at] a second-class level in the Soviet psyche.â
What this illustrates perfectly is this â women are not devalued in the job market because womenâs work is seen to have little value. It is the other way round. Womenâs work is devalued in the job market because women are seen to have little value. This means that anything a woman does, be it childcare, teaching, or doctoring, or rocket science, will be seen to be of less value simply because it is done mainly by women. It isnât that women choose jobs that are in lower-paid industries, it is that any industry that women dominate automatically becomes less respected and less well-paid.
This is literally what happened to basically every field women have entered. The opposite happens when men enter. Computers used to be a âwoman thingâ until the guys who did it got really mad about how badly their job was viewed and realized they could fix it by forcing out women.
I think Iâve seen/heard similar things about the Veterinary field, traditionally it was male dominated as it was geared more toward working/farm animals rather than companion animals
Also I wouldnât be surprised if it was similar for the horse industry. Like despite the thing like âugh horses are girlyâ horses were a traditionally male thing eg. stablehands, war horses, hunters
Librarians/Archivists used to be well respected highly educated white dudes. We are information brokers who have to know how to curate, maintain, and navigate huge collections of information AND they have to be able to match the right information with the right need. It is a daunting job.
But women join the field and know anyone in libraries/archives are the butt of the spinster crazy cat woman joke.
The type we normally think of, that you see in every office, predominantly women. Low pay, low prestige, theyâre trying to rebrand them as âadministrative assistantsâ and other different titles because they are so horribly looked down upon.
And then there are high government executives. The US Secretary of State is the Presidentâs chief foreign affairs advisor and heads the State Department, for example, itâs one of the most powerful positions in US politics.
Why the difference? Why do we use the same term for the highest of the high and the lowest of the low?
Because the job used to be done by men, and when secretaries were men, it was a high-prestige, high-pay job. A secretary has to know a lot of things, and coordinate everything, and organize everything, and work closely with your boss and make sure that all their orders got carried out. A secretary has huge influence over what happens in an organization simply by controlling who has access to the boss and what information they get and how their orders are carried out. A good secretary is their bossâs right hand, without whom nothing happens. Often it was a sort of apprenticeship, the bossâs secretary being groomed for high office in the firm. Because obviously, a good secretary would know exactly how to run things and how the organization works and how to get things done; what better training could there be to run the firm? This was what a secretary was when the government posts were named, and once there is an Official Government Title For Something, that name does not change very easily.
Then, in the early 20th Century, women entered the secretarial field in droves and men left it. The pay and prestige sank like a rock. The job was just as vital, just as influential. It didnât get any easierâin fact, additional skills were needed to deal with ever-evolving technology. But itâs womenâs work, therefore it is not important and easy and doesnât deserve pay or respect.
Not to mention fields like English. I mean writing was literally THE white male job for hundreds of years. And now that women are really getting the chance to enter the field and are dominating creative writing departments, suddenly everybody is turning their nose down on it because suddenly itâs frivolous and unimportant in the grand scheme of things. âWhy donât you get a real job?â âWhat are you going to do with a degree in English? Teach?â Itâs crazy how quick that switch can flip.
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If I was remaking the Princess Bride I'd have Buttercup hire Vizzini, Inigo and Fezzik herself to help her fake her death and take her away so she could go and seek out the Dread Pirate Roberts and get revenge for Westley's death, and also get out of the marriage to Humperdinck, so she rocks up on the ship in disguise and this time Westley doesn't recognise *her*, but she realises it's Westley and she's just making loads of snide remarks trying to figure out why he's been merrily fucking about on a boat this whole time, meanwhile Westley's having a little bit of a bi moment about Buttercup-in-disguise but because he's loyal as fuck he's not going to do anything about it but they get into a fight and Buttercup is like 'Why the hell did you just fucking leave your girlfriend to fuck around being a pirate you could at least have written a letter' and he's like 'Oh I'm sorry???? What on earth would you know about it, this is none of your concern, I should've killed you when you came on board' and of course during this scene they're also having a very tense sword fight with Inigo making quips from the sidelines like a sports commentator, and Buttercup's like 'WELL WHY DON'T YOU JUST KILL ME THEN, FARM BOY???' But then the ship lurches to the side and she gets thrown overboard and Westley is like 'Oh my God I'm so stupid!!!!' So then he has to dive in after and pull her out.
Once sheâs back in the boat she and Westley have a heart a heart conversation and itâs very cute (Inigo and Fezzik are throwing rhyming couplets back and forth in the background).
Humperdinck is still trying to start a war, so when he hears his prospective bride is captured! by pirates! he chases them, and captures them all as soon as their boat makes landfall. Westley, Inigo, Fezzik, and Vizzini all go to the dungeons, and Buttercup is confined to the court physicianâs rooms to ârecover her witsâ from her âscare with the piratesâ (translation: sheâs spitting mad and has a sword now and has to be restrained to keep from Murdering Humperdinck).
The gang in the dungeons are all in separate cells, so they each organize their own jailbreak. Fezzik just. breaks his door, Vizzini confuses his guard into handing him the keys to the door, Inigo has his âFather, guide my swordâ moment and finds a secret passageway out, and Westley is just sitting outside his cell waiting for them, both of his guards knocked out. he claims they turned on each other and then he picked his lock.
Meanwhile, Humperdinck releases Buttercup, which was a mistake, because now she gets to beat him up and give the âto the painâ speech. Inigo has his conclusion with the six-fingered-man, meanwhile Westley finds the queen, convinces her that Humperdinck has been warmongering, and she decides to crown her younger child instead. Westley meets up with Buttercup, and together they find Inigo and Fezzik (who has grabbed the horses).
Inigo becomes the next Dread Pirate Roberts and Fezzik goes with him. Humperdinck never recovers from the scandal and gets shoved in a monastery somewhere out of embarrassment. Westley and Buttercup become wandering swords, just Robin Hooding their way through life, settling down to be farmers in their old age.
âWell,â said Inigo, shrugging, âI myself am no stranger to murder plots. I just donât know that the four of us can fight an entire crew of pirates.â
They were drawing quite close to the Revenge, now.
Vizzini scoffed.  âObviously not. They say Roberts is a bloodthirsty pirate, but too honorable for his own good. Our employer will simply challenge him to a duel.â He glanced forward, to the front of the boat, where the enigmatic figure who had purchased their services stared intently ahead, and continued in an undertone. âAnd, since weâve been paid in advance, the outcome matters little.â
âBut, donât they kill everyone they meet?â said Fezzik.
âObviously not,â scoffed Vizzini, âor no one would know they existed. Besides, Iâm sure that, if their captain wins, theyâll be all too happy to have us go and spread the story of his immense skill.â
âWhen you say skill...â said Inigo, leaning forward.
âThey say heâs an accomplished duelist. Scourge of the seas? Known to have slain 100 men in single combat!?â Vizzini turned away in disgust at his evident lack of knowledge.
Inigo nodded his head to either side, trying to tally up his own numbers.
He didnât have time to share his calculations, though, as a shout came from the Revenge.
âHo there! Who goes?â
Their nameless employer stood up, and responded in that oddly light tone of his.
âI seek an audience with Roberts!â
The man who had spotted them, young, but already grizzled, laughed derisively.  âYouâll meet him. Whether you get âan audienceâ or not...â He let the implication of their treatment hang in the air.
âWhether I give him an audience...â Muttered their employer, hand going to the sword at his side.
A minute passed, and then, from over the side of the Revenge, there came a ladder.
âCome aboard,â said the man who had called out earlier.
They came alongside, and their employer stepped up first, nimbly climbing up. The rest paused, there, none quite as eager, until the voice called out again.
âAnd the rest of you.â
Inigo went first, and Fezzik took up the rear, and they made it to the deck, where...
The deck was filled with battered, scarred, salt-worn men. It was a motley crew, but each of them was armed, and none seemed especially friendly.
On a higher deck, a man leaned on the railing, and gave them all a careful once over.
âWell then... Not many seek the Revenge. Come to join the crew, then?â
Their employer shook his head.
The man pulled back, and looked closer at him. He took in the dark, loose clothing, the mask, and the hair, cut short, but brilliant gold all the same. And the mask...
âThen state your business.â
âIâve come to seek an audience with Roberts,â he repeated. Â âIs that who Iâm speaking to?â
There was a rumble of laughter from around the deck.
âNo,â came a much smoother voice, and a man in black stepped forth from the shadows. Â âI am Roberts.â
He took a few paces around the four of them, but his eyes, bright beneath the mask, seemed only interested in their employer.
âNow... By the sword at your side, you are not rich... By the clothes you wear, you are a swordsman... And by the mask...â He stopped, and turned to face them in earnest.  âYou have come to kill me, then.â
Vizzini, Inigo, and Fezzik would have expected a stoic affirmation, but since Roberts had stepped into the light, an indefinable change seemed to have come over him.
âYou took someone from me who I held very dear.â
Roberts paused, and then shrugged.  âPerhaps. I kill many people.â
âI came to challenge you to a duel.â
Roberts nodded. Â âNaturally.â
âAnd you accept?â
âOf course!â he said, throwing his arms out, as if the question surprised him.  âWhat kind of self-respecting legend of the seas can turn down an offer to duel?â That drew a laugh from the surrounding pirates.
âI ask that the men behind me, regardless of my fate, be left to leave freely.â
He raised his eyebrows. Â âA strange request.â
âThey have no valuables to steal, and they are in similar work to you.â
âAre you asking for honor among thieves?â said Roberts, and clicked his tongue.  âThere is no such thing. But, nonetheless, if it is as you say, unless they make themselves my enemies, they will be spared.â
Roberts stepped forward, and, as if on cue, the pirates on the deck pulled back, going to the railings, and some onto the higher decks, clearing a large space in the middle. Vizzini, Inigo and Fezzik matched the motion, until there were only two figures in the middle of the deck.
âNow,â said Roberts, âyou know who I am, but I must admit, I am curious who you are.â
âI do know who you are,â said their employer, a flash of light in his eyes, a perfect match for his sword, which was suddenly aimed straight at Robertsâ chest. Roberts seemed, for a moment, taken aback by his vehemence.  âAnd if you do not know who I am, then perhaps you will have to continue wondering.â
âFezzik,â whispered Inigo, âdo you see the position of the feet?â
âMhm.â
âDo you see the way he maintains his stance despite the shifting of the deck?â the words came out rapidly, as Inigo stared intently at every inch of their employerâs posture. Â âHe has been trained well.â
âOh. Good,â said Fezzik, trying and failing to see what exactly Inigo was so fixated on.
Roberts studied his opponent, a moment longer, and drew his own sword, the motion strangely nonchalant. Inigoâs eyes widened.
âWhat?â said Fezzik.
Inigo shook his head, seemingly unable to put words around what was so impressive about the motion. Perhaps the ease with which Roberts handled the weight.
Roberts settled into his stance, and there was a moment of silence, the two of them facing each other, neither quite willing to make the first move.
Their employer struck first, the jab snaking out. Roberts blocked ably, once, twice, thrice, the strikes coming in blisteringly quick.
âDo you see that motion? If the feet do not move quickly enough, then he would lose his balance in an instant.â
âTheyâre good then?â came Fezzikâs bass response.
Roberts struck back, jabs alternating in a dizzying pattern, first from the left, then the right.
âOh, Fezzik, if you could see it as I do.â
Robertsâ deadly offensive seemed for a second to splinter, and then fracture back on itself, a pair of thunderous clangs seeming to almost disarm him.
âThe entire stance was a feint!â cried Inigo, seemingly jubilant at the concept. Â âTulis, flowing into a high lunge rather than a low slash!â
--
âI rarely find others who wear masks,â said Roberts, almost conversational as the fight roved across the deck. âHave you been burned by acid, or do you just prefer to keep your identity a secret.â
âI have as much reason to keep my identity a secret as you do,â she hissed in response.
âYou know,â he said, âI thought you seemed suspicious of something.â
âI know who you were,â she said, managing to push him back, up to the upper deck, the perfect shift of his technique as he started up the stairs prompting another excited cry from Inigo, who seemed to have gotten the pirates riled up. They seemed to be shouting their own interpretations of the fight, though none quite so learned.
âI am Roberts, and no one else,â he said, but she knew the smile was fake. Â âYou are mistaken.â
âNo. Tell me, what have you been doing out here? Searching for adventure? Wealth? Fame?â
âI wouldnât presume to know my business, if I were you,â he said, his expression suddenly darkening.
âWas it the prospect of drink? Gold? Women?â
That seemed to hit something, and, with a perfectly timed lurch of the deck (for the waves had been choppy all day) he managed to reverse the momentum of the fight despite his tactically poor position. Inigo, though neither heard it, interjected yet again with a rapid, excited burst.
Roberts seemed angry now.
âYou say it like you have some reason for asking. Have you come here in the hopes of seducing me by your victory?â
âI came here with the intent of killing a spineless, unfaithful coward.â
The insult was hardly subtle, and neither his response. Both were the more effective for it, and the furious chop sent her sword flying away. It soared across the deck, almost impaling a crewmemberâs foot, and then stuck in the wood, wobbling.
She was pressed back against the railing, his sword point almost in her chest, his expression as thunderous as the sea beneath them, which, during the fight, had begun to violently rock the boat.
âI donât believe that I will take any satisfaction in killing you,â he said, âonly in not having to listen to you speak anymore.â
She grimaced, and reached up to her mask.
âThen kill me and be done with it,â she pulled away the mask, âfarm boy.â
For an instant, he didnât seem to understand what he was seeing, and then, he staggered back, as if struck. The sword dropped from his hand.
âYou.â
She nodded, grimly.
What now, Westley?
He seemed...
He seemed...
A wave struck the boat, and she, already forced backwards, toppled over the railing, and into the water below.
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