#Legal representation near me

[ljcrestview]

Legal Representation Lawyer Near Me in Crestview, FL - (850) 409-3350

Martin Lewis and Steven Jurnovoy joined as partners in 1998 to create the law firm of Lewis & Jurnovoy, P.A. The primary emphasis of the law firm is in the representation of individuals and sole proprietors in Chapter 13 Bankruptcy ("Debt Consolidation") and Chapter 7 Straight Bankruptcy.

Lewis and Jurnovoy 1501 S. Ferdon Blvd. Crestview, FL 32536 (850) 409-3350 https://www.LewisandJurnovoy.com/

[polawyer]

Attorney Offices Near Me: Finding the Right Legal Representation

PO Lawyer - When you need legal help, finding an attorney office near you can be crucial. But how do you find the right attorney for your specific needs? When it comes to legal matters, location is important for several reasons. First, you want an attorney who is familiar with the local laws and court systems in your area. This can give you an advantage in your case, as they will have a better understanding of how to navigate the legal system. Second, having an attorney office near you can make it easier to schedule appointments and attend meetings. Related : Attorneys for Bankruptcy: How to Find the Right One for Your Case You won't have to travel far or take time off work to meet with your attorney, which can be especially important if your case is time-sensitive.

Tips for Finding Attorney Offices Near You

So, how do you find attorney office near you? Here are some tips to get you started: 1. Ask for Referrals One of the best ways to find a reputable attorney office near you is to ask for referrals from friends, family members, or colleagues who have used legal services in the past. They can provide valuable insight into their experiences and recommend an attorney they trust. 2. Check Online Directories There are several online directories that can help you find attorney offices near you. Some popular ones include Avvo, FindLaw, and Lawyers.com. These directories allow you to search for attorneys based on location, practice area, and other criteria. 3. Use Local Bar Associations Many local bar associations have referral programs that can connect you with qualified attorneys in your area. These programs often provide initial consultations at a reduced fee, which can be a great way to meet with several attorneys and find the right fit for you. 4. Read Online Reviews Reading online reviews can give you a sense of the quality of service provided by different attorney offices near you. Look for reviews on Google, Yelp, and other platforms to get a sense of what past clients have experienced. Read More : Anderson and Associates: Your Guide to Choosing the Right Law Firm

What to Look for in an Attorney

Once you've narrowed down your options and have a few attorney offices near you in mind, it's important to know what to look for in a legal representative. Here are some key factors to consider: 1. Experience You want an attorney who has experience in the area of law that your case involves. For example, if you're dealing with a personal injury case, you want an attorney who has successfully handled similar cases in the past. 2. Communication Skills Communication is key in any legal matter. You want an attorney who is responsive, keeps you updated on the progress of your case, and explains legal concepts in a way that is easy to understand. 3. Availability Make sure the attorney you choose has availability to take on your case and is able to give it the attention it deserves. 4. Fees Ask about fees upfront and make sure you understand how the attorney charges for their services. Some attorneys charge a flat fee, while others work on a contingency basis. Related : Consult a Lawyer for Free: Your Ultimate Guide Finding attorney offices near you can be a daunting task, but with these tips and tricks, you'll be well on your way to finding the right legal representation. Remember to consider location, ask for referrals, and look for an attorney with the right experience, communication skills, availability, and fees. By taking the time to find the right attorney, you can increase your chances of a successful outcome in your case.

Frequently Asked Questions about Attorney Offices

- Can I switch attorneys if I'm not happy with the one I chose? Yes, you have the right to switch attorneys at any time if you're not satisfied with their services or communication. However, it's important to carefully consider your decision and ensure that the new attorney you choose is a good fit for your case. - How much should I expect to pay for legal services? Legal fees can vary depending on the type of case and the attorney's experience and location. It's important to ask about fees upfront and make sure you understand how the attorney charges for their services. - What should I do if I can't afford an attorney? If you can't afford an attorney, there may be pro bono (free) legal services available in your area. You can also contact your local bar association or legal aid society for assistance. - How long will my case take to resolve? The length of time it takes to resolve a case can vary depending on several factors, including the complexity of the case, the court's schedule, and the willingness of the parties to negotiate a settlement. Your attorney can provide you with an estimate of how long your case is likely to take. We will provide information on Lawyers and Attorneys and Lawyers Near Me, Bankruptcy Attorneys, Personal Injury Lawyer, Auto Accident Lawyer, Family Lawyer and others. Don’t forget. With. Development Perfect Organiztion Lawyer by clicking on the link. In. Lower. This : Facebook. (By clicking on this link, you will be logged into PO Lawyer Facebook) Let’s click now. Or you can also see our Twitter or you can visit our Google News. We Also There Channels YouTube For Look Lawyers Information us Visually Come on Now Join Us. Read the full article

[racefortheironthrone]

Please tell me more about neighbourhood PMCs in renaissance Italy

It would be my pleasure! (My research into this owes a lot to the excellent Power and Imagination: City-States in Renaissance Italy by Lauro Martines.)

The first thing to note that, unlike the condottieri, these were not private military companies. Rather, the neighborhood military companies (in the sense of a military unit, rather than a profit-making entity) were self-defense organizations formed as part of a centuries-long political struggle for control over the urban commune between the signorile (the urban chivalry)/nobilita (the urban nobility) and the populo (the guilded middle class, who claimed to speak on behalf of "the people").

This conflict followed much the same logic that had given rise to the medieval commune in the first place. Legally, the communes had started as mutual defense pacts between the signorile and the cives (the free citizens of the city) against the rural feudal nobility, which had given these groups the military and political muscle to push out the marquises and viscounts and barons and claim exclusive authority over the tax system, the judicial system, and the military.

So it made sense that, once they had vanquished their enemies and established the commune as the sovereign, both sides would use the same tactic in their struggle over which of them would rule the commune that ruled the city. The signorile and nobilita formed themselves into consorteria or "tower societies," by which ancient families allied with one another (complete with dynastic marriage alliances!) to build and garrison the towers with the knights, squires, men-at-arms, and bravi of their households. These phallic castle substitutes were incredibly formidable within the context of urban warfare, as relatively small numbers of men with crossbows could rain down hell on besiegers from the upper windows and bridges between towers, even as the poor bastards on the ground tried to force the heavy doors down below.

To combat noble domination of communal government, achieve direct representation on the political councils, establish equity of taxation and regulate interest rates, and enforce legal equality between nobility and citizenry, the populo formed themselves into guilds to build alliances between merchants and artisans in the same industries. However, these amateur soldiers struggled to fight on even footing with fully-trained and well-equipped professional soldiers, and the guild militias were frequently defeated.

To solve their military dilemma, the populo engaged in political coalition-building with the oldest units of the urban commune: the neighborhoods. When the cities of medieval Italy were originally founded, they had been rather decentralized transplantations of the rural villages, where before people had any conception of a city-wide collective their primary allegiance was to their neighborhood. As can still be seen in the Palio di Siena to this day, these contrade built a strong identity based on local street gangs, the parish church, their traditional heraldry, and their traditional rivalries with the stronzi in the next contrade over. And whether they were maggiori, minori, or unguilded laborers, everyone in the city was a member of their contrade.

As Martines describes, the populo both recruited from (and borrowed the traditions of) the contrade to form their armed neighborhood companies into a force that would have the manpower, the discipline, and the morale to take on the consorteria:

"Every company had its distinctive banner and every house in the city was administratively under the sign of a company. A dragon, a whip, a serpent, a bull, a bounding horse, a lion, a ladder: these, in different colors and on contrasting fields, were some of the leitmotifs of the twenty different banners. They were emblazoned on individual shields and helmets. Rigorous regulations required guildsmen to keep their arms near at hand, above all in troubled times. The call to arms for the twenty companies was the ringing of a special bell, posted near the main public square. A standard-bearer, flanked by four lieutenants, was in command of each company."

To knit these companies organized by neighborhood into a single cohesive force, the lawyers' guilds within the populo created a state within a state, complete with written constitutions, guild charters, legal codes, legislative and executive councils. Under these constitutions, the populo's councils would elect a capitano del popolo, a professional soldier from outside the city who would serve as a politically-neutral commander, with a direct chain of command over the gonfaloniere and lieutenants of the neighborhood companies, to lead the populo against their noble would-be overlords.

And in commune after commune, the neighborhood companies made war against the consorteria, taking the towers one by one and turning them into fortresses of the populo. The victorious guilds turned their newly-won military might into political hegemony over the commune, stripping the nobilita of their power and privilege and forcing them either into submission or exile. Then they directed their veteran neighborhood companies outward to seize control of the rural hinterland from the feudal aristocracy, until the city had become city-state.

(Ironically, in the process, the populo gave birth to the condottieri, as the nobility who had lost their landed wealth and political power took their one remaining asset - their military training and equipment - and became professional mercenaries. But that's a story for another time...)

[certifiedsungod]

Using a doodle as an excuse to drop totally just bits and pieces about the Rosen death denial au thing I made for me myself and I (might be heavily Rosen & Sephiroth centered and my explaining abilities aren't really good might be long still)

THEY'RE FARM BOYS!!!! First of all that because I like it

Sephiroth has a dog which he adopted on impulse after taking the sentence 'spend all your money' (indirect Glenn reference!!!!!!!) too literally I just thought that was funny personally (the dog is just called puppy or dog (affectionately))

Both Rosen and Sephiroth had a hard time adjusting to a 'normal life' and still struggle with certain things outside of their routines which is why they stick a lot to those

Sephiroth really doesn't like the feel of water while Rosen has to constantly be fished out of the creek near their house

The only reason why Sephiroth is letting his hair grow is because he doesn't have to fight often anymore and it doesn't bother him anymore

Matt has unknowingly, unofficially and without legal procedures adopted Rosen and is teaching him how to fight with a sword

Qpr representation for the 40 people who want it one of them being me 🎉 They're close but romance is overrated and I'm projecting

They both enjoy lying around somewhere in each other's rooms and doing nothing,, overall they just like existing around each other

Rosen really likes that they have a truck because he likes getting to sit in the back during car rides

It doesn't happen too often but sometimes if either of them are doing real bad because they're both not too good at voicing feelings they'll resort to just hugging (realistically more clinging to each other but simplified it's hugging),,,,,,,,,

Rosen is good at cooking 🔥

mb for making this long I just like rambling

[miminmimikyu]

Prodigy episodes 15-16: If at first you do not succeed (your first officer says "no, we should be sensible" re: your plan steal a ship AGAIN), try again (just immediately ask your former first officer, hoping for a different answer). King Janeway <3

Tell me this (top) doesn't remind you of this (bottom)

“I’m not your number one anymore…” “things can’t stay the same forever” god why are those two like this.

Iiiiiiinteresting that they’re discussing Endgame here. And I can't believe Janeway’s clothes are a bootstrap paradox now

I 100% wonder what the gang is assuming about Janeway and Chakotay’s relationship!! Is their takeaway message “ah. married?” or “huh. i suppose captain-first officer dynamics are like that”

Kinda obsessed with how often Janeway and Chakotay being loving towards each other is paired with Dal and Gwyn, either in the same frame or in a shot directly preceding/after it.

Ahh I’m reminded again about how Chakotay’s a former terrorist but was probably the most rule-abiding person on Voyager. There’s probably a higher chance of Tuvok agreeing to a plan involving ship stealing than Chakotay.

Ascencia has the worst (best) timing. Doesn’t realise that by attacking she’s given Janeway an ironclad legally bulletproof reason to ignore Starfleet orders and to continue with the mission (HER mission). Don’t get in the way of a Janeway who’s just been told they’re going to split up her crew. Ascencia may think she has a near-omniscient time traveler as a trump card but he didn’t tell her to wait x days until Janeway was locked up in her office before declaring war with the Federation!

Just the idea of Janeway sitting behind a desk is making me itch.

Obviously Ascencia couldn’t know about Jellico’s orders, but she really hasn’t studied Janeway enough (both during the time she infiltrated the crew of the Dauntless + any reading she did while in Starfleet). It’s interesting that just by the coincidence that Janeway was the highest in command on the ship Ascencia infiltrated, Janeway morphs into a representation of all of Starfleet in Ascencia's eyes and thus has turned almost Ascencia's entire focus of revenge towards Janeway. Notably, the other revenge target is Gwyn (Ilthuran's betrayal) and though that's definitely 95% personal/5% mission, she acts no different with Janeway. She's taking pleasure in seeing Janeway suffer, so similar to how she takes personal joy in Gwyn's suffering. Even more interesting is that Chakotay, the guy who foiled the future!Vau Na'kat plans with the Protostar, was right there in view when she videocalled Janeway. She must know of him, but she didn’t react to him at al-- just to Janeway & Gwyn (Or maybe that confrontation is for a later episode).

I’m loving Dal gaining some respect from the other Nova cadets. NOT loving that they’ve been sent off to battle

So many Tom Paris mentions (yay) but what i really want is a Harry mention....... please

Right, that's what I forgot about in episode 13: Jankom helping Zero through their body deteriorating is everything to me………"I just want to feel like... me." aaaaaaaaaaa

Dal has grown so much! I can’t believe he’s the one to put the gang at ease and reassure them that the Federation might better equipped to fix everything. No doubt that all the competent, trustworthy adults Dal has met since boarding the Protostar have had their hand in this change. Again, I really love that the Prodigy writers chose to have the S2 adults treat the children with respect, so we get moments like these.

God that space battle was so exciting! After so many Voyager-A crewmembers were killed by the Loom, it was so nerve-wracking seeing them sit there dead in the water! I for sure thought Tysess was a goner!

Zerooooooooooooo!! A harrowing experience and sacrifice worthy of any of the "adult" Star Trek shows!!! π_π Zero’s new suit is so nice! It's even crafted "from" the Protostar by Jankom, couldn't be nicer! Also I really like how this episode resolved the whole corporeal-noncorporeal binary with Zero settling on not one or the other, but something new and unique in between. Good for them!

(Too bad they can’t eat anymore, but if original Voyager’s crew is anything to go by, Tuvix’s food was the best anyone has ever eaten so after experiencing that, there’s nothing to beat that I suppose)

Maj'el is pretty bold doing that in front of everyone! Teenage "who cares" mentality or is that hypothesis about "unhinged" Vulcans ending up in Starfleet true?

[coochiequeens]

An 11 year old girl is dead because her family allowed a man with a history of crimes involving minors on their property.

CNN — 

The man suspected in the death of 11-year-old Audrii Cunningham is a family friend who was entrusted with taking her to the school bus on the morning she vanished – and later participated in the massive search for the girl before her body was found in an east Texas river, authorities said.

Audrii’s family thought the suspect, Don Steven McDougal, was just taking the girl down the street when the pair left her home Thursday morning, Polk County officials said. But she never made it onto the school bus or into her classroom, and a bag resembling her bright red Hello Kitty backpack was later found near a local dam.

Prosecutors are preparing an arrest warrant for McDougal, 42, and believe the evidence supports a capital murder charge, Polk County District Attorney Shelly Sitton said Tuesday.

Audrii’s body was found Tuesday in the Trinity River, downstream from the reservoir near where the backpack was found. It was one of several locations McDougal told investigators he had gone around the time of her disappearance, Sheriff Byron Lyons said.

Investigators located Audrii’s remains using cell phone records, video analysis and information from McDougal, Lyons said.

The condition of Audrii’s remains is not being released, the sheriff said, and the Harris County Medical Examiner’s Office will determine her cause of death.

To help uncover the body, Lyons said, water management authorities slowed the flow of water from the Lake Livingston reservoir – one of the largest reservoirs in the state, with 83,000 surface acres – allowing the river level to recede enough to reveal the remains.

“I express my deepest sympathies and condolences to everyone who knew, who cared for and loved Audrii,” the sheriff said. “We will continue to process the evidence that has been gathered to ensure justice for Audrii.”

The suspect is already in custody after being arrested Friday night on an unrelated aggravated assault charge, the sheriff’s office said.

CNN has been unable to determine if McDougal has obtained legal representation and has reached out to his family for comment on the accusations against him.

McDougal, a friend of Audrii’s father, lived in a trailer on the family’s property and sometimes took the girl to catch her school bus in the neighborhood, the sheriff said. He has been the main person of interest in her disappearance as authorities frantically scoured the rural east Texas town of Livingston – about 70 miles northeast of Houston, he said.

McDougal joined the search efforts and was seen knocking on neighborhood doors and asking if anyone had seen Audrii, the sheriff told CNN. But Lyons doesn’t believe his efforts were genuine.

“To me, it simply tells me is that he’s trying to give the appearances that he has no play or he’s not at fault in her disappearance and that (he’s) part of the concerned parties who were trying to locate her,” Lyons said Tuesday.

In the days after Audrii vanished, McDougal claimed in several social media comments that he was not guilty in her disappearance and has “done nothing wrong,” according to activity on a Facebook account appearing to belong to the suspect.

“I’m not guilty,” reads a comment from the account under a post on the Facebook page “True Crime Society” the day after Audrii was reported missing.

“I was there and was questioned. I am not running or hiding,” McDougal wrote before commenting again and saying, “I have done everything I can to help find her. I have done nothing wrong.”

CNN has sought comment from investigators about the Facebook comments.

Suspect has decadeslong criminal history

McDougal has a lengthy criminal history dating back to at least 2003, with convictions for violent crimes and one for enticing a child, according to court records in several Texas counties.

In 2007, he was convicted of enticing a child in Brazoria County, Texas. Court records show he pleaded no contest and was sentenced to two years in prison but was given credit for 527 days.

Online records do not detail the specific allegations in the child enticement case. But the offense is defined by the state as “the intent to interfere with the lawful custody of a child younger than 18 years” when a person “entices, persuades, or takes the child from the custody of the parent or guardian.”

McDougal was also convicted in 2010 and 2019 for aggravated assault with a deadly weapon.

The victim in the first aggravated assault case said McDougal, his former coworker, attacked him after being thrown out of his house.

“He showed up with some other friends that I had,” Elic Bryan told CNN on Tuesday.

[potatomountain]

To Love A Monster- CH 2

“New Changes”

mutant reader x human ateez- Slight San focus

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: there will be potential triggers for anxiety and mental illnesses all throughout this story. Not all characters are nice at first. In this chapter that is San

AN: not all chapters are going to be long, a reminder a lot of the times i don't edit my works

This is a work of fiction, in particular Fan fiction, and in no way is this a representation or an accurate depiction of ATEEZ or any other idols/people used for this work.

Any feedback is always appreciated and adored! Comment on the masterlist to be added to the taglist <3

Masterlist

previous | next 

...

Typhon’s had limited places to work just as they had limited places to live. There was government funding for homes and families that took care of Typhon’s, and despite being able bodied and less susceptible to disease and sickness, Typhon’s were still considered too dangerous to work with the general population. The only places we could work were Typhon based companies: companies that worked with Typhon products or had an affiliation with Typhons.

Nine times out of ten, these jobs were simply to be test dummies. 

I was no different really. I was just a test dummy for my father- that was what I was born for.

Granted my father’s research had helped Typhon’s and overall made my life a bit easier… but it also meant that he had all the control in my life. I had more freedom than most Typhon’s, some would even say I was spoiled. He paid for all my expenses, even gave me a highly generous monthly allowance to spend on things I liked. He allowed me to live in my own apartment since I turned of legal adult age, and buy anything I wanted as long as I lived by his simple rules.

I just had to adhere to his tests and experiments, tell him every detail about every emotion or feeling or inhuman thing my body did. And once a week he would get to poke and prod to his heart’s content. It was, admittedly, a boring life.

No friends, or outside hobbies for obvious reasons so the last week of my freedom over my apartment was spent enjoying it. I kept the heat up high, the blinds shut, and enjoyed my once spare room as I sorted through all the random things I had bought myself over the years. Only the day before my new roommate's arrival did I clean up and create the space for him.

The day of, I woke to the sound of knocking on my bedroom door. Scurrying out of my nest of blankets, it was my father’s calm tone that stopped me from lunging at the door in my half-asleep state.

“Ty, I’m here with San and breakfast. Come eat.” Still a bit disoriented, I nodded only to be glad he hadn't seen my foolishness.

"B-be right out!" Pushing aside my little bit of embarrassment I moved around the room unfurling whatever clothes smelled clean enough before I joined them in the living area.

Aside from the two bedrooms and the one bathroom, the rest of the apartment was an open concept, a kitchen island with a built-in breakfast bar the only thing that separated it from the rest of the large space. I had cleaned it up and taken all Typhon related products to my room, the only issue was the stack of things I had moved out of my spare room was now around one corner of my little dining table; as if it ever got used.

Today my father seemed to want to make use of it, having set up a spot for me at one of the two seats that didn't have random boxes piled on them. Blinking the remaining sleep from my mind, I watched him walk over to the spare room without a word. Judging by the other boxes and furniture near my front door, the two men had everything dropped off just inside while I was asleep, and now they were moving all of San's belongings into the room. 

Stomach growling I decided food was priority before I would react to the invasion of my home that was now coming to fruition. The plate did not hide the fact that the food was simply several orders of bacon and sausage patties from some fast food place, but I didn't care. As long as it was meat.

Stuffing my face I listened to my father and my new roommate shuffle around the spare room, moving boxes and other furniture. San would mutter under his breath as if I couldn't hear him loud and clear, my father replying normally. Only five minutes passed before my father made his speedy getaway. "I have to get to work San, so if you need help, ask Ty. She can be useful. Text or call if you need anything."

"My own apartment would be nice." Again under his breath, and I was half tempted to scoff. Not like I wanted him here either. He didn't like Typhon's, yet now he was here in my safe space, making it no longer safe. Perhaps my room will have to do but… I knew I couldn't just hide away for the rest of the year- my father wanted us to get along; I have to oblige.

I didn't react, but my father did sigh. "We talked about this. We all agreed it would be beneficial for all of us right now if you stay here until the wedding. Then we'll get you any apartment you want."

Silence, some shuffling, the next moment I was locking eyes with my father as he approached me. "I know this isn't easy on you either but I'll bring you some new products to make up for it. Like a new space heater for your room and some cute clothes." He looked down at the old stained sweatshirt I wore that was stretched out past its limits. "Alright?"

Despite the bit of a pout I wore, he ruffled my hair and headed for the door without waiting for the answer. Why should he? There was only one answer he would accept and that was my obedience.

Used to this cycle, these expectations, I turned my attention back to the meat before me and finished off the last of the bacon. Once finished I cleaned up.

I was washing the plate when San left his room, making his way quickly towards the pile of boxes still by the door and grabbing one of the larger ones. My eyes followed his every movement, frozen like a deer in headlights. He was taller than I, broader, and I think he would classify as handsome by human standards.

He even looked a bit familiar, as if I saw his face regularly and not just once before.

Either way- I had a mission to do. "Would you like me to help?" He stopped just inside his room, shoulders tense. After a moment I stepped around the island, head tilted to the side curiously. "San? Would you like-"

"No! And don't talk to me." Without looking back he sneered the words out. I could feel the venom in each syllable, rooting me to my spot. He glanced back to fix me with a sharp glare. "You stay out of my room, and I'll stay out of yours. Let's not talk, or greet each other or pretend like we actually want to be in the same apartment as each other. Deal?"

Frowning, I shook my head. "I can't do that. We have to get along."

Groaning, he set his box down just inside the room and turned on his heel to face me fully. "And why the fuck do we have to get along? Because your prick of a dad wants us to?"

Wincing at his words, I nodded, ignoring the insult he hurled about my father. "Your mom too. They both want us to get along. We're going to be related through marriage after all." 

Rolling his eyes he shifted from one foot to the other. "Do you always do what your dear dad says? Like some stupid pet? How pathetic can you be?"

I stumbled back a step, eyes wide as his words felt like physical blows to my chest. I could feel emotion well up in my throat and burn the back of my eyes, no doubt bringing out my more inhuman qualities further. His face shifted in reaction to my own, his gaze falling to the floor for just a moment. "Just-"

Not wanting to hear even more insults I rushed to my room and slammed the door shut, locking it just as my breathing became more erratic. Nestling into my pile of blankets, I buried myself deep and cried. 

He was right- how pathetic could I be? 

- - -

That one interaction was the only one we had, despite how often we ran into each other because of our living situation. Within two days he had everything settled in his room, and I had organized the rest of my junk so it was less of an eyesore, but we didn't even acknowledge each other's presence even when in the same space.

It was a heavy weight on my shoulders and I could hardly stand it even after just two days. The third day I was far too excited to leave the apartment and head to my father's lab, the familiar faces of the other researchers a breath of fresh air.

My father's absence also helped me relax a bit more: I wouldn't be able to handle it if he was the one to ask about things between San and I.

But Doctor Park? That was a different story. Doctor Park was my father's colleague the longest, and had known me since I was an infant. He was kinder than my father when it came to tests, and I fully believed he saw me as more than just a research subject or pet like my father did.

He treated me with care.

Even now as he checked all my vitals, he was being gentle. "You seem really excited to be here today, is there a special reason?" He looked up from the stethoscope to meet my gaze, a brow lifted curiously.

"I uh- was happy to leave my apartment." Sheepishly I fiddled with the hospital gown I wore for each visit, eyes on the blue tips of my fingers. Avoiding eye contact gave away my distress to Doctor Park, but he could probably tell without my habits.

Frowning, he lifted my chin to force my attention back to him. "Your heart rate picked up… are things not going well with your new roommate?"

I shook my head, keeping eye contact since that was what he wanted. I wasn't surprised he knew the situation, I was their main research dummy, any changes in my environment were to be reported and this was a big change. "He doesn't like Typhons. He doesn't want me to talk to him or acknowledge him and he doesn't either. I don't… I don't like being home now. It's scary."

It was easier to be more open with Doctor Park, understanding flashing across his features. "Ah, I see. So you are anxious all the time?"

I nodded.

"That's not good for you little one, your nerves are far too sensitive to be on high alert all the time. What was your father thinking- tsk tsk." Huffing, he motioned for me to turn around and expose my back to him. "Has he seen you fully unmasked?"

"No- I keep it at bay. I'm sure he would freak out if he saw it." I could already picture his horrified expression, it was enough to have my chest tighten. "Father would be disappointed if I scare him."

I felt his hands open the back clasp and then run down the spine of my back. It tingled and reacted to the light touch, shifting underneath my skin in a way I understood was not human. One of the other researchers compared the movement to a snake slithering under the skin. In a sense… they weren't wrong.

"Don't worry about your father’s expectations. We do this research to understand and make things easier for both Typhons and humans alike. Your honest reactions are what we need, as well as his honest reactions. If it's difficult for you to be around San for now- then don't. We can't force results , little one." His hands continued their examination as I shut my eyes, hanging onto his every word and touch.

My back was particularly the most sensitive, in particular the spine, and Doctor Park was always the most gentle with it. He was just as gentle with his advice and I knew he was right. But… "I have to be around him… I have nowhere else to go but here. And father wouldn't like me hanging around here all the time."

He was silent for a moment, fingers tracing some of the patterns on my skin that seemed to bloom outward from my spine. "You know I have a son right?"

Taken aback by the change of topic I glanced over my shoulder at him, blinking in obvious confusion. "Yes?"

"See, I had broached the subject to your father that you should attempt to build relationships with other humans, but I had done so with my son in mind. I didn't think your father would jump several steps ahead and move in Miss Choi's son with you. As much as I respect your father he can be a bit too ambiguous sometimes, and it doesn't always work out the way he wants." He pulled away and clasped the gown back in place before stepping towards the computer.

Hit with a lot of new informationI took a moment to contemplate it all, landing on one question. "Why your son?"

"He's a good kid, and he's like me; he wants to connect Typhons and humans on a more kinder level. There are few Typhons that are accepted into society past their initial family or other Typhons, but it's not as rare as we think. With our reputation, if we studied the connections and interactions between humans and Typhons outside of familial bonds I think we can make some big changes, and I know my son would gladly help with that." He turned to me after typing away on the keyboard. "I helped him open up a Typhon shelter a few years back and it's gotten some good feedback. A lot of our newer patients are from there, and we work with the shelter to ensure they are getting all they need."

Eyes wide as saucers I couldn't believe I had never heard about the shelter before. Surely that would be a better idea than having someone who was afraid of Typhons live with one? 

As if sensing my confusion, he rushed on. "Your father doesn't like my son, not entirely."

"Why not?"

"Because they butt heads over how to treat Typhons, yet both understand that the other is necessary to give Typhons a future alongside humans." He left it at that, smiling as he helped me down from the examination table. "Unmask fully and we'll move onto the next part. Do well enough and I'll give you the address to the shelter."

"I can go there? But its a shelter-"

He nodded. "It's also one of the few safe spaces for Typhons in the city, a lounge of sorts for Typhons to socialize. It'll take time for San to warm up to you but constantly being anxious isn't going to help either of you. We need to keep your stress low. Besides, perhaps you'll get some advice from the other humans there or make social progress and connections all on your own."

I nodded, walking with the Doctor as the final shifts of my body clicked into place, no longer hiding any of my Typhon qualities. "Do you think… I could make a friend?"

The smile he gave me was warmer than the heated air that hit me as we entered the next room, the observation room. "I'm positive. And one friend is all you need."

A friend. 

The thought stayed with me as I completed the usual tasks and exercises I went through every week to ensure my body was still working and to look for new changes. The familiarity of it eased some of the anxiety and weight in my chest, but not as much as the idea Doctor Park had put into my head.

After another hour I left the lab with a smile on my face and an address saved in my phone. A friend would be nice, but really as long as I could find a temporary safe space that was all I needed.

At least until San warmed up to my presence or he left, home was not safe. I really hoped this shelter would be.

[personinthepalace]

I saw a local production of Legally Blonde the Musical today!

One of the local high schools in my city (my old school's "rival" in fact haha) is doing a production of Legally Blonde, and I went to see it today! I'm a huge lbtm fan, but this was my first time seeing a live production, and it was honestly very good!! I am very passionate about the door discourse so I was highly anticipating that moment in the ballad. And this production passed the test! As soon as I saw that they were wheeling out the door during that number, I was silently freaking out to my friend haha. Anyway here are some other random notes/thoughts that I had about the production:

Real dogs! Rufus was a golden retriever, and when he came out, the show paused for a bit bc of the applauding haha. Rufus also listened to Kyle's command to sit which was quite cute haha A HUGE ensemble (it's high school so it makes sense). But they bring back the ensemble for like every possible song Elle was great - she used some vibrato and trills during her solos. Most of So Much Better was kinda a mess (backing music/ensemble not really lining up well), but OMIGOD she held out that last note just like LBB did on bway so huge props to her! Warner was a good singer not as strong as the other leads but he has the best expression/acting choices - more on that later Serious: they didn't do the accidental proposal pose which I thought was a missed joke The violinist during Serious walked back out with some great sad acting after Elle left before playing the last notes of the song (I thought that she was someone from the orchestra but they were actually part of the ensemble so that was cool!) What You Want: Elle's white outfit was cute!! They used the "Jet Blue" line! The actors' school photos for the Elle x Warner poster which I thought was funny haha Harvard variations: they got rid of Sandeep's character so the song was shorter Aaron Sholtz and Enid Hoops were played by butch actors which was cool! Bruiser now loves the Bachelor Emmett - the actor playing him (who my sister knew from elementary school) is such a perfect emmett! Looks exactly like how one would imagine him haha Background acting: Emmett introducing himself to the students and shaking their hands while Elle and Vivienne had their first interaction in class Blood in the water: Callahan was also a very good singer. I think this was one of the strongest number of the show. They also added grey to his hair He was kinda touching Enid during his lines with her but she kept on pushing his hand away from her - foreshadowing! Paulette was amazing!!! I think she might be my favorite actor in the show. She sounds EXACTLY like Orfeh did on bway. Also asian representation!! Ireland - she killed it obviously - seriously amazing!! (though she did accidentally came in early at one part). The lyrics are different from the bway version though (they were about her grandpa) Playboy bunny costume - they added a little tutu to it which was cute! Enid sat near them near the end of this scene (in preparation for Elle stealing her glasses). She tries to drink from a bottle but Warner took it away from her and drank it instead Chip On My Shoulder: Elle wears Emmett's jacket! Emmett saying he hadn't slept since 1998 killed me bc this kid is definitely younger than me haha Elle and Emmett don't do any secret handshakes though :( Elle sat next to Warner during her squealing exit and I loved that so much haha Reclaiming Rufus scene: Elle ran back on stage and threw her arms around Emmett and Paulette - I am here for this trio friendship When Dewey re-exited the trailer and saw Elle, he twirled his long hair

So Much Better, as I said before, was sadly not the strongest number but I do like that Elle's parents appear offstage when she called them. And Elle held out that last note!! Once again no Elle x Emmett secret handshake :(

(Part 2 will continue in a reblog bc apparently I hit the character limit LOL)

[gofancyninjaworld]

Could you imagine how it’d feel to get a life altering surgery without your consent and when you wake up your doctors are like “Yeah we’re nowhere near as good as that other guy though” about air

Heh, well, you've saved me starting a meta post.

This is indeed one of the follow ups for the wordy, but important bonus chapter. When body modification has been suggested, heroes have said, 'talk to my lawyer, motherfucker,' and the hapless executive being pressured to pressure them to accept has agreed -- he's trying to transfer elsewhere.

So, no question where heroes stand on forced 'improvements': no dice. They'll take on what works for them and that's that.

This is a nice, evil edge case. So Air has been shot clean through the throat and out his spine: a grevious injury indeed. Massive points to the helicopter crew for getting him to the nearest hospital alive!

While ideally you talk to a patient and get their informed consent before giving any drugs or doing any surgery, where the person is unable to give consent, there's a case for doing surgeries where not operating is unethical in that failing to intervene would result in death or major disability.

A lot of the surgery he needed was indeed life-saving. Repairing severed nerves: absolutely. Looks like that's the C4 vertebra: failing to repair that damage is to condemn Air to being a quadriplegic. It's beyond our technology to repair at the moment, but there's a lot of progress being made in nerve repair with artificial guides. One thing we've learned: time is of essence. There's a very narrow window in which severed nerves are willing to regenerate; after that, the inflammation and scarring that sets in actively prevents healing. The bone itself will need reconstruction: that may well take an artificial/bone mix to piece back together and have it be strong enough to work right away. Blood vessels? Absolutely need repairing. Fortunately, the largest blood vessels aren't center-line or he'd be dead. Damaged muscles? Very fiddly. Needs repair. Oesephagus? Yes, being able to swallow isn't really optional: if that can be repaired there and then, it should be.

Not optional: being able to breathe. HOWEVER, you don't need to be able to speak. A stoma would suffice perfectly well. That's where the life-altering surgery comes in. Rather than do the life-saving surgery, letting Air recover, and then discussing his options for larynx and trachea repair, the Hero Association has gone right ahead, called in some shady-ass 'doctors' and made decisions that they have no business making. And it looks like the extent of the visible prosthetics is far more than you could functionally justify.

I know that heroes are tough and heal incredibly quickly, but even so, damn... talk about an incredibly quick and excellent functional repair.

As the bonus chapter has shown, heroes have a keen sense of their humanity and know their way to legal representation. This is probably not going to go well for the Hero Association. Good. They have it coming.

It'll take the cost, the judicial censure, and the negative publicity -- maybe even criminal penalties -- for the board at the HA to get it through their heads that, yes, there's nothing wrong with body modification, but there's everything wrong with changing a person without their consent.

Ah well, that's not the only ethical thing the HA is getting wrong.

[smalllonelyegg]

My Own Headcanon to Echani Society bc Why TF Not

Most of this was kinda drafted up by me for the sake of a half Echani OC who went from merely lashing out however she could vs the Empire to attempting to nationbuild, as well as grow as a person, and learn to find value in living, so a lot of it was considered with that in mind, and as such it will not be particularly applicable for your purposes. May this serve more as loose inspiration or an alternate take at best. Also warning Eshan here is meant to be *terrible.*

Echani Command was not merely subservient to the Empire, but enjoyed a position of privilege by them. In exchange for treating Imperial officials equivalent to high caste Echani, including access to training in the Echani martial arts, they enjoy relative freedom, being allowed to maintain their own law enforcement, prevent their businesses being nationalized, and generally enjoyed a lax, comparatively unsupervised, existence under imperial rule

Eshan itself is a colonialist planet, having taken the other of the "Six Sisters" in order to exploit their resources

Echani rule was dictated largely by eugenics. People were sorted into castes depending on supposed "genetic worth," a remnant of their time as an experiment of the Arkanians. Low caste echani face various socio-political hurdles, such as access to education and autonomy

Echani of any variety are not permitted to choose their own romantic or sexual partners. Marriage is based on computations over ideal genetic combinations, and are limited to within a caste. To break this is to drop to the lowest rung of the caste system, along with the offspring of such combinations, and those who openly sympathize and teach low caste people.

Battle, other than a means of communication, is seen as a test of "genetic value." To succeed in combat is to show you are of greater worth than your opponent.

While it becomes frequent for low caste people to enlist in Imperial Academy to escape from the burdens it provides, it carries some degree of social stigma, as while imperials are treated as high caste in a legal sense, in addition to xenophobia leading to a sense of superiority to imperials, low ranking officers and conscripts are often seen as "not worthy" of these privileges. These generally go unsaid, privileged as Command is, imperial rule still holds true.

In addition to the assigned Imperial Governor, leadership was held by High Council, with each member effectively serving as an autocrat over the system they represent- though they still would post their own governors to manage on a smaller scale

Position of Councilor may be won in ritual combat with the current holder of said position. While nothing legally prevented lower caste members doing this, combat education beyond the very basics was limited based on caste, such that in effect only the highest castes may possibly claim rulership. This all builds to a symbolic representation of "genetic purity"- where combat prowess is seen as a measure of genetic strength, to be councilor is to assert genetic superiority over all but the other councilors

Combat is primarily conceived of as dialectics materialized, where strength in combat is representative of the strength of a party's ideals. To win is to let your convictions be heard, and while all but the most traditionalist echani judges find victory in combat something that binds one to action legally, to not follow the victor is seen as incredibly cowardly

While High castes are given a theoretically large amount of freedom, they nonetheless face great social pressures, as deviance from social norm is highly associated with "poor genetics" pressure is thus applied to "perform genetic value"

More lighthearted

Eshan's surface is near uninhabitable due to its scorching sun, a white star named Esh. As a result, nearly all life there dwells in the vast cave system spanning the entire planet beneath its surface

Due to the nature of Eshan, much of Echani diet is centered on fungi. Mushroom stew is an incredibly common dish, with many households having their own unique takes on how it should be made

Most animals on Eshan are insects, though many have evolved to convergently resemble other creatures such as mammals at a glance. Traditional Echani armor, though almost never seen outside museums, are made of their exoskeletons, being flexible, though still durable

Echani diplomats and senators are very frequently taught they *can't* challenge people to a duel. This has to be heavily stressed

Echani funeral garb is white, while the garb of the deceased is to be black

Weapons of Echani firedancers are often derived from farming or foraging tools, such as sickle like tools that were designed to scrape lichens from rock- This is allegedly because of a legendary farmer who, upon finding his village razed by bandits, killed all of them with a scythe. It is said his rage burned hotter than the burning village homes

Echani alertness can be a double edged blade- horror stories can get an extreme reaction from even seasoned echani warriors. Offworlders who bring holovids have often been told to ensure any media like that is to be hidden or disposed of

Many Echani clothes are constructed out of silk created from the cocoons of a particular species of insect. These clothes are often designed to be quick to take off, should a fight start and they prove too restrictive. Most Echani do not see any possible symbolism from this, coincidental or otherwise

Post war, many echani writers ruminated on the nature of battle droids. In a culture where combat serves as a form of communication, what is to be said of constructs who don't have any larger point to communicate, who simply fight because it was what they were made and ordered to do. Many echani tend to be put off by these droids, who come across as uncanny.

Echani made products used to fetch high prices in galactic markets, often being handmade artisanal products of high quality. As automation developed more and more, however, these items became more and more novelty: armies could be armed with state of the art blasters for the price demanded for a set of echani vibroswords. Echani attempts to automize struggled, often being low quality, not only in comparison to their specialty items but also in comparison to other similar competitors. As a result, Eshans economy began to center more and more on raw materials. Ironically, some of the biggest consumers of echani materials is MadalMotors.

[splendidissimus]

2012 - To The Pain

((Content warning: Cruciatus torture, beating / physical abuse of a vulnerable person, graphic bloody torture))

((Promptspiration: @whumptober 2023: day 18: Tortured for information ))

Genre: whump

Romance level: negligible

Angst level: 2/5

Draco's headspace: defiant / calculating

((words: ~4000))

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

Discretion was the nature of Draco's business. The specifics of his business varied from client to client — the two most common asks were legal advice or representation, or money, but he really appreciated more interesting challenges and would engage with basically anything that wasn't outright Dark — but the desire for discretion was near universal. To that end, he wasn't surprised when he got a terribly mysterious message asking for an appointment after most of the rest of Diagon Alley was shut down and with the utmost privacy, but he was intrigued. 

He came back alone to the office at midnight, after his secretary was long gone for the day. His health was well enough he could leave Theo to his work instead of bothering him for an escort; he had only a mild cough that the tea basically suppressed and, while he may not be able to walk much more than the length of the corridor at a go, it wasn't a large office and he had no problems staying upright at the moment. He found that the portrait of Elizabethan Lucius that hung in his father's study and watched the house had followed to the frame here, feigning complete disinterest that was rather undermined by the fact that he was there and didn't need to be. The manor must be boring this time of night. Unfortunately for him, privacy meant privacy, and the portrait sniffed disdain at his apologetic noises as he covered the frame with a muffling cloth. 

He was making tea from the charmed pot when he heard the bell that announced a visitor coming through the Vanishing Portal from Hogsmeade. "This way," he called, without looking but with his eye on the mirror that was positioned so he could see the door, as he poured a second cup. 

It was a solid, rough-bearded wizard of maybe a little more than his age who opened the door. He looking passingly familiar, and Draco was automatically reaching for the wand he'd set down beside the tea as he tried to identify him. 

"Expelliarmus!" 

Draco erected a shield spell with barely a thought; the attack ricocheted off and knocked several books from his shelves, and he turned around, lifting his wand…

And the wizard's fist slammed into his jaw and sent him sprawling to the floor. 

"Yeah, knew you was a duellist." The wizard stepped on his arm and snatched his wand out of his hand. For good measure, he stomped on his hand, and Draco let out a noise as he felt it crunch. Sharp pain travelled up through his wrist. "Don't do much good against the Muggle kind, do it?" 

And now he recognised him. "Gerald Vick." Husband of one Mary Vick nee Patternel, who had engaged him a bit over a month previously to help her disappear, in large part due to her husband's violent tendencies; he'd seen him in a picture taken by the investigator who did background on his clients. He pushed himself up to sit against the cupboard, holding his broken hand gingerly. "Your wife's not here."

"That's what we're here to talk about." He pulled out Draco's chair and sprawled in it, wand levelled at him. Draco realised he wasn't sure where his own wand had gone. "I know the little bitch came to you. Now you're gonna tell me where she went." 

"I am not." Draco's attention fell to his desk behind Vick without actually moving his eyes. After the escaped Death Eater incident, he had installed an alarm for precisely these sorts of situations, a device rigged up of Protean and cosmetic charms that would activate copies with Theo and at home. But it was under his desk. If he could get to it… 

Bright red sparks shot into the cupboard beside his head, and he flinched his face away. 

"You are," Vick said. "Only question's how much's it gonna hurt before you do." 

He wasn't going to tell him — but if he could talk his way out of any more pain, that would be ideal. "Allow me to save you the trouble." He looked back at Vick again levelly. "You wife is under the protection of the Fidelius Charm — the ancient spell that locks her secret into a single living soul. No amount of threat or torture is ever going to get her location. You will never find her."

"Fuck!" Vick exploded out of the chair and kicked him viciously, screaming obscenities. Pain erupted through his sides, up his arms; he managed to hide his face but it got him in the back of the head, and he ended up curled on the floor, hiding behind his arms, a little noise escaping his throat with every new pain. 

If only the entire office weren't Muffled, for discretion, someone might have heard…

Eventually his attacker moved on to the furniture. Draco stayed where he was, trying to catch his breath with every movement of his chest squeezing pain from his ribs, listening to things being thrown around his office. Vick was demanding to know where the supposed records were. As though Draco's name wasn't 'Malfoy'. 

Something hit the wall above him and shattered into a shower of ceramic shards that rained down over his hair. "Alright, new plan." Vick grabbed his arm and yanked — Draco cried out in pain, that was obviously broken too — and pulled him halfway to sitting up. "Maybe you didn't write shit down, but you know who's got her secret. That's what you're gonna tell me." 

"I can't imagine why your wife wanted to leave," Draco said faintly. "You're so powerful when you're beating up a wandless invalid half your weight. Who wouldn't be impressed?" 

Vick threw him back so his head slammed into the wall, and he groaned and held it. Maybe one of these years he'd learn to keep his mouth shut. 

"Start talking." Draco lifted his eyes to see Vick was holding his wand on him. "Or I start taking off pieces." 

Draco considered the wand, then leaned his head back on the wall again. "Give it up," he said, with a weak cough to try to get breathing more deeply. "You're not going to kill me. I'm not going to tell you anything. I've been put under the Cruciatus by Voldemort… What do you really think you can offer?" 

It was one part truth, two parts bluster, and one more part self-talk. He could feel his old constant companion fear trying to take hold and he had to logic himself out of it. Even if absolutely nothing else went right, in five or six hours, his secretary would be in… He could handle being yelled at and kicked around for six hours. 

This wasn't like Voldemort. It wasn't like Rowle. This had an endpoint, a goal, a way to win. Focus on that. 

"That's a real interesting assumption." Vick grabbed him by the collar and lifted him to his feet; he gave a small sound of pain, but managed to get his feet under him, using mostly the wall for support. "That I'm not gonna kill you." 

Draco studied his face; they were about the same height. Watery, red eyes. Bad breath. He was at least half drunk. He tracked his wand without actually looking at it. It wasn't steady either. "You're not," he said confidently. "You might've been dangerous to her in a fit of pique, but premeditation doesn't suit you." 

Vick grinned sharply. "Shows what y—"

Draco didn't care what Vick was saying, or what he himself had to say to get him to; the point was to get him smug and relaxed. When he sensed the wand drooping, he lashed out with his left hand, snatching for the wand, and pushed back away from him along the wall. He didn't have the strength to pull it away entirely, but they were both holding the wand, and he was the more prepared; he twisted it toward Vick and yelled "Confundo!" 

It missed. The spell whiffed past Vick's head and ricocheted off the far wall. Vick yanked his wand back, Draco lost his balance, and then Vick punched him in the face, then again, and he fell to the ground, dazed and his head exploding with pain. 

"You done?" Vick kicked him onto his back and planted a foot in the middle of his chest, and leaned on it, wand arm resting on his knee. Draco choked desperately, weakly shoving and hitting his leg to try to move him, even using his broken arm, panicking for any air. 

Vick ignored him. "We're gonna try this again." He leaned more weight into his chest. A pitiful noise squeezed out of Draco's throat, a high whistling squeak that came out between the last of his air. His chest felt like his ribcage was about to explode. "You're gonna tell me how to find my wife, or I'm gonna kill you, real… fucking… slow." 

Draco shook his head, weakly and desperately. Vick shoved off his chest; the force made something crack, but the weight was off his chest and now he could start to breathe again. He clawed at the collar of his robes to pull it down, like that would help, dragging in a thick gulp of air that made his entire chest burn with pain, and then cough it back out in whimpering hacks. He couldn't breathe for coughing, he couldn't cough for pain, he couldn't breathe through the pain…

He tried curling up in a painful ball, but Vick grabbed him by the broken arm and yanked him back with a weak cry. 

"Now." Vick crouched beside him, wand dangling over him. "You know who's got my wife's secret?"

Draco nodded without trying to speak, eyes closed, still fighting with his breath. 

"Good." Vick patted his rapidly-swelling cheek right where he'd been punching him. "Who?"

He didn't respond or even bother to look at him. 

Vick's wand tip laid against his arm, then with a quick slash and the word "Diffindo," he laid a ragged gash down the length of his upper arm. Draco had just enough breath to cry out in surprised pain, rolling over to grip the wound. It wasn't clean and smooth, it felt torn, ripped into the flesh. The edges of the torn sleeve were frayed and rough and that showed how he used the spell. 

Vick gripped his jaw and turned his face up, shaking his head to make him look at him. "Take me seriously now?" 

Draco gulped in a painful lungful of air managed to control it. "I'm listening." 

"Funny how quick that happens." He smirked. "Go on then." 

"It's been… a month…" He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing as deeply as the pain shooting through his chest would let him. The blood was flowing freely through his fingers, and that was concerning. He couldn't take many more like that. He didn't have enough blood to spare. "I don't have it… on the top of my head." 

"Someone's a fuckin' liar." He moved his wand toward Draco's chest.

Draco flinched and tried to twist away from him. "No, stop! I'm not lying." He moved his bloody hand up to grip his hair. "Do you realise…" he had to breathe, "...how many times you've hit me in the head? Already had problems…" 

"Need help remembering, do you?" The wand wandered toward his face. 

Draco cringed back and put his hand between his face and the wand. "Notes, in my desk. I'll get it." 

"I've been all through your desk." He gripped Draco's jaw to turn his face to the upended drawers with their contents scattered on the floor. 

He pushed his hand to try to get it off. "Missed the false drawer." 

"Secrets inside of lies with you Malfoy's, ain't it?" He pushed himself up to his feet, but Draco only had breathing space for a second. Then Vick grabbed him by the front of his robes and hauled him to his feet, dragging him toward the desk. 

Draco cried out and couldn't stay up, stumbling back to his knees, curled up over himself with his breath shaking. He really couldn't get up. It was all pain. How many broken ribs, how many internal injuries? Were his lungs still whole, and if so, how many more times of being tossed around until they weren't? Vick may or may not actually intend to kill him, but at this rate he stood a very real chance of killing him by accident. 

"Get up." Vick kicked him in the side.

"It hurts," he panted. "I can't stand. Need my chair…" He waved vaguely toward where Vick had taken it. 

"Anything else I can get you, princess?" He grabbed the chair to drag it back.

While his back was turned, Draco reached up under the desk, fingers searching for the alarm. Activating it would require a spell, and while he normally wouldn't have needed his wand to do it, properly done wandless magic required intense mental focus, which he wasn't capable of when he was in this much pain and duress. But once he had it, he could worry about that part.

His fingertips pried free the coin-sized item, but he wasn't quite quick enough dropping his hand — he sensed Vick's attention just before the chair slammed into him and sent him sprawling with a cry, sliding on loose parchments scattered on the floor. The alarm skittered unseen out of his hand and vanished somewhere in the mess. "You got another wand stuck up in there, do you?" He stomped on his broken arm, drawing a weak scream. "Think you can play me?" 

He opened his eyes and studied him, then painfully rolled up on his knees. "I know I can play you," he panted, holding his arm against his chest and curled defensively around his injuries, pushing himself away, fingers groping around in the scattered papers to try to find it. "I told you upfront I wasn't going to tell you anything… yet you still believed me…"

"Depulso!" 

Draco flinched behind his better arm and was thrown off the floor, slammed into the wall hard enough to leave a dent in the plaster, with every bruise and broken bone screaming in symphony, and then collapsed in a shaking heap of pain. Don't throw up, don't throw up… He could tell already how much it would hurt if he threw up… 

Vick lifted him off his face by the back of his hair, and he moaned, trying not to move, but forced to at least lift his head. He found himself looking up at the covered portrait on the opposite wall. 

Proper wandless magic required intense focus, focus he wasn't capable of when he was in pain. But improper wandless magic… that just required letting himself go. 

Before he could think more about it, he flung his left hand toward the portrait, throwing his willpower with it. 

His magic ripped the portrait off the wall, and tore down the shelves beside it and sent books and decorative pieces pelting the pair of them in a hail of blunt objects. But it also ripped the cover off the painting, exposing it to the room.

The portrait tumbled end over end into the room, teetered on its corner, threatening to land uselessly face down on the floor, and then finally fell to rest leaning forward against the side of the desk where the inhabitant could see and hear the state of the room. 

But the frame was empty. 

Of course it was, his ancestor had no reason to sit around in a dark frame he couldn't see or hear from. He had just hoped.

He cried out as a gash ripped across his back. Then he was thrown onto his back, and the combined pain of his injuries conspired to paralyse his breath and voice, not even allowing him to cry out for it. 

"Let me know when you got something to say." Vick laid another ragged gash down the inside of his left arm, bone-deep, to stop him using it again. And then one straight through the palm of his left hand. Draco gathered enough breath to wheeze, trying to twist away from it. 

Vick studied his face for a long minute. Draco didn't know if he liked what he saw there, but it seemed unlikely. He held him down in a way he hadn't before, one hand pressing down his shoulder and pinning his leg with one of this feet, and set his wand against his stomach. Draco shook his head,pushing ineffectually at his wand with his mangled hands; it didn't matter. Vick said the incantation and dragged the wand over his stomach, so, so slowly. The agony pulled out a scream he wouldn't have thought he had the breath for. 

His clumsy hands clutched desperately at the stomach wound to try to hold it closed, to keep his guts on the inside where they belonged. It was a losing battle; he could feel a loop of entrails slipping between his fingers. Vick lifted his wand back into his line of sight, and there was actually blood on the tip of it. There was so much blood. He could taste it. Didn't have six hours now — probably didn't have one. Even a person whose blood would clot on its own wouldn't be able to handle this.

"Tell you…"

"Go ahead." Vick looked at his face expectantly, wand tracing slow circles above his chest. 

"…having to say the incantation, every time… makes you look childish…"

Face contorted in fury, Vick threw the spell into his chest, raking a deep gash across him. He choked and coughed a fine mist of blood into Vick's face. 

Really, that was on him for expecting that this time Draco was going to say something useful instead of something smart… 

Vick kicked him in the stomach — Draco barely had the strength to scream as the gash was ripped open further — and stomped on his chest. "I guess I'm gonna do this the hard way." He punctuated the words with kicks around his torso and head. "Start at the top and work down. Start with her parents, those old friends she used to have. Think you're so fucking smart, don't you? I don't need you, you're not gonna help an—"

"Crucio!" 

Vick immediately twisted to the ground, screaming; there was no space between the sound of father's voice calling out the curse and the sound of his tormentor being tormented. That was nice. After a few seconds, Draco raised his hand weakly to show his father he was alive, and to stop him. 

The sound of the screaming was replaced with "Stupefy," as his father came into the room, Stunning Vick unconscious. Then "Incarcerus," to bind him. He cast the counter to the Entrail-Expelling Curse — smart, Draco might not have thought of it, though without some powerful healing they weren't going to stay there. 

He crouched beside him in the pool of blood, hand on his chest briefly, probably checking his heart and breathing. "You're going to live," he said, in his way that was not an observation, it was a spell, impressing his will into the world. 

Draco nodded. "Aurors," he panted weakly. "Aurors first." 

"This is more important." He summoned Draco's lap blanket from the mess of the room and pressed it, folded into a thick pad, against the gaping wound on his stomach to try to staunch the bleeding. 

"Now." The effort of that made him cough and the spasms made the bleeding worse. 

His father considered with narrowed eyes, then looked over at the leaning portrait. "Nott?"

"Already on his way." Elizabethan ancestor Lucius smoothed his beard into an even finer point. "In fact…"

The signature waft of the floo was heard in the reception room, and then Theo's quick strides to the doorway. He immediately swore and came to his side; his father nodded and made space for him. "Two of these immediately." It was a blood replenishing potion he held and helped him drink. 

The immediate effect was that all of his wounds veritably poured blood, like it was running straight through him, but that was why there were two. With his healing resistance, it wasn't going to be a simple matter of spells to hold him together. The potions would at least mean the blood loss didn't kill him while they were working on it.

"All right." Theo touched his hair. "You can hear me?" He nodded. "Good. I'm leaving you another potion. Don't let yourself get lightheaded. I'm going to get help, I'll get Pye called in so he's ready by the time we get you to St Mungo's." 

"Take your time…" Draco invited breathlessly. 

"Hush." He ran his hand over his hair. "I'll be right back." He left his side and in a second Draco heard him calling out the name of the hospital in the floo.

And then, for a moment, the room was empty, still, and silent. Draco was alone. His father had left without drawing attention to it, and Vick was still unconscious and bound. Slowly, he pushed himself into a painful seated position against the wall for a little bit of pride, panting shallowly between wet, bloody coughs and trying to keep his intestines in.

A voice from near the desk proved he wasn't quite completely alone. "Have we learned a lesson about covering portraits, hm?" 

"I'll have to think about my policy," he allowed. Portrait-Lucius harrumphed. "Thank you."

"Better. Now don't go and die, it would be disruptive." 

"I'll try." 

Soon enough, the quiet was disrupted by the bell over the street door, and his office became a flurry of activity again. His father returned with a pair of Aurors, Janssen and a young woman he didn't know. She made a disturbed sound, probably at all the blood, and Janssen had her collect Vick and get him back on his feet. He was argumentative as soon as he was conscious, yelling that they didn't have anything on him and he was being held prisoner unlawfully.

"Gerald Vick," Draco supplied the Aurors. "Hunting down his wife… who does not want to be found…" 

"I didn't lay a hand on her." He fought as she started dragging him toward the door, and saw Lucius calmly observing. "Arrest him! Malfoy! That son of a whore used an Unforgivable Curse! He used the Cruciatus on me!" 

"That was me," Draco corrected breathlessly. "By accident. Had problems controlling my magic… St Mungo's can confirm… Normally use my wand to control it, but he took it…"

The Auror woman rifled Vick's clothes. She had presumably already gathered his wand from the floor and hadn't thought to search him. "White, about ten inches?" 

"That's it…" She made to return it to him, but he lifted his mangled hands to show he couldn't really take it, nodding toward his father instead. That had the not-entirely-unintentional side effect of exposing some of the wound on his stomach as the sodden blanket slipped. She muttered that she was going to be sick, and handed off his wand to his father. 

"I'll take whatever punishment is deemed appropriate, of course…" 

At the same time, the Mediwizard team from the hospital was flooing in. He held up a hand to keep them back and beckoned for Janssen to come close; he took hold of his arm to pull him even closer when he stopped at a normal distance. "Daniella Paradiso is Mary Vick," he whispered into his ear, then let him go and spoke in a normal tone, or what passed for one at the moment. "Let her know her secret's safe… and I can lift the charm if she'd like to give evidence…" 

"You?" Vick suddenly struggled against his bindings and the Auror holding him back, almost breaking free. "You were the secret-keeper all along?" 

Draco painfully but with immense satisfaction lifted two fingers at him, then rested his head back against the wall, allowing Theo and the healer team to come tend to him now.

[thewardenofwinter]

Hi Morana!

How are you doing? How is the writing going, what are you up to?

Greetings Sam, thank you so much for this ask! I've been meaning to do a little update for a while and this gives me a perfect excuse lol

On life (tw for mentions of illness):

It's still very hectic at the moment which hasn't really allowed me time to pursue any creative avenues. I've been fighting off various illnesses since my younger brother started school because my immune system isn't used to all the germs he's around, including covid and strep, and on top of that there was a West Nile Virus outbreak in my state which my mom ended up catching and had to be hospitalized for a few days but she's doing a lot better now. We still have not found a place to live yet, but we managed to finagle two more months from our landlords to find a place since moving during the summer is damn near impossible when they rack up the prices and everything is being taken. There's also a lot going on in my more personal life that's left me quite stressed and lethargic. A little bright side though is that we also found two itty bitty stray kittens under a house and I had to take care of them for almost 2 weeks, but they ended up getting adopted which is great! They were both very cute gray tabbies like their mom, and they were technically my other cat Ivan's half-siblings. I've also got a queens of the stone age and hozier concert coming up soon which i am SO hyped for, my entire life has been In Times New Roman and Unreal Unearth for the past weeks.

On writing:

In the past few days, I've finally found some peace to write and draw some. I've been mainly focusing on The Resurrectioners and trying to get at least 50k words by the end of October. I've also been outlining The Stray Girls and trying to work on a cover in Photoshop (which i got recently totally legally, but i usually just use Clip Studio). I've sort of put What We Undertake on the backburner for now, it's not that i don't want to work on it or am burnt out, it's just that I'm not nearly as passionate about furthering the plot like I am with The Resurrectioners. I've sort of fallen into a hole of mythology and folktales about necromancy trying to learn more about the history behind its representation.

I've also gotten back into drawing now that I've actually had time to do so lol. Here’s some drawings I’ve gotten done recently!

(in order from left to right: Nazriya from The Resurrectioners, Circe from Give No Quarter, A quick sketch of Zekiah from The Resurrectioners, and a face study of Charlie Hunnam)

I've also put off studying Russian for a month or so and am trying to get back into my one-hour-a-day studying routine I had previously which is taking a toll on me to be honest lol. I bought the Curse of the Pharaohs DLC for AC Origins and I've also started to play Assassins Creed: Liberation for the first time and so far I'm loving both. I can't believe some people say it's the worst installment. I'm working on Aveline fanart as we speak.

But yeah! There's a little update, I'm going to be posting some of my writing soon/doing a few tag games to get back into the groove of things so watch out for those. Thanks again Sam for checking up on me and sending the ask!

[swagyna]

im so stressed out :(

a lawyer I was looking into, which I wasn't sold on anyways, tried to get me to drop my disability claim which is nearing a year old.

this guy said that they don't think I could build my case up enough before the hearing, which he guesstimated which would be in 9-10 months.

and instead, if I chose to work with them, drop the claim and continue treatment for another 6-12 months. and then contact this lawyer to have him work my case.

and he gave me no other options.

which. is just insane? the 9 to 10 month timeline before my hearing is plenty of time for me to get further testing and treatment and is within the timeline that they're asking for?? is that extra 2 to 3 months that big of a deal?

thankfully, SSA happened to call and they were super kind and let me know i didn't have to drop my claim. i can work with the judge assigned to my case to push the hearing back while we wait on neuropsych testing and then treatment to see if treatment has any effect.

i have to look for legal representation ASAP, but it's just so frustrating because the lawyer I just spoke with, I've been trying to get a clear answer from them for a month now. he kept calling and leaving incorrect information too!!

what a waste of my time.

[quordleona03]

Aliens in Glasgow

So I'm standing, in front of a seated assembly in Glasgow's SECC, behind a whole lot of recording equipment - I can't really see them, but I know that the crowd includes Nicola Sturgeon and our first visitor from the galactic federation. Another planet. An alien. She looks like a woman.

"Hello," I say, and there is a difficulty with the sound equipment not transmitting. The technician sets to work. The event manager gives me a pep talk. They're both men. I am to speak for five minutes without worrying about it; it's being recorded, they will cut, etc, as necessary. They are so sure I shouldn't panic that I begin to panic. I'm in front of a crowd and I dont't know what I'm going to say.

Suddenly, I realise this is a dream. And I can do lucid dreaming. Lucidly, I decide what I'm going to say.

Ladies and Gentlemen and Others, I was very honoured but quite surprised to be asked to speak to you today. You see, this is Glasgow…. and I'm from Edinburgh.

We're friendly rivals from a way back. Well, fairly friendly.

For example, when Glasgow became Europe's capital of culture for a year, the city council here paid for posters to be put up - Glasgow the Capital of Culture - around Edinburgh. During our international Festival.

I was also surprised because I thought, on an occasion like this, with our distinguished guest from another planet in the audience, you'd want someone really important, someone who really is involved in the government of Scotland - someone who kept us going through the darkest time of the coronvirus pandemic - Janey Godley.

But they asked me. So I want to talk a bit about what Glasgow means to us here in Scotland, as we welcome our friends from near and far.

When the outside world depicts Glasgow, often they go to the long-standing rivalry of certain football clubs. And they depict mobs of Glaswegian men in George Square getting drunk and doing roaring damage to a bit of the city's fabric and a lot of the city's reputation. But I want to celebrate another mob.

A few years ago, the UK Immigration police came, with their little van, to take two men, not born in Glasgow, refugees, or as they say here refuweegies, out of their home and to a prison, because an authority elsewhere had decided - without consulting the men or their legal representation - that they weren't "really" refugees, and they should be locked up unless they could prove they were. Immigration is reserved to the UK government, so these UK immigration police had the law and the constitutional settlement of the United Kingdom on their side.

A Glaswegian on a push bike spotted the van, and the two men being hustled into it, and he knew what it meant. So he and his bike got under the van. And he got on his mobile phone, this Glaswegian, and he called his friends, and his friends called friends, and the van couldn't move off because there was someone under it who wouldn't move - and then they found themselves surrounded, walled in, by a crowd of Glaswegians.

A very peaceful mob, this one. They just stood. Being Glaswegians, they shouted chants and they sang, but nobody stirred, nobody approached the van, nobody threw anything - everyone knew that if there was any violence, the army of mounted police just around the corner would have their excuse to move in, disperse the mob, and - once the man UNDER the van had had to move, he had no food or water with him - they could take the two refugees away. And for twelve mortal hours, that peaceful Glaswegian mob stood around the van, protecting those two refugees inside, and the police waited round the corner, waiting for an order from the Justice Secretary of Scotland to move. The then-Justice Secretary of Scotland, Humza Yousaf, was in negotiations with the junior Immigration Minister in London by video call, so we hear: Yousaf wouldn't give the order to send Scottish police against the peaceful crowd.

Well, eventually, the driver and the immigration police in the van had to give in. They had no food or water either. So the two refugees were let out of the van, and their lawyer met them and escorted them to the local mosque where they could have a well-deserved cup of tea - neither man was Muslim, but the mosque would have given them tea anyway - and go safe home. And the man with the bike got out from under the van at last, to find that everyone watching wanted to buy him a pint, and that's why I, from Edinburgh, love Glasgow. People make Glasgow.

Welcome to Glasgow, our friends from so very far away.

[cinnamonfm]

in-character task 001: initial sit-downs. 

      heni is sitting in complete silence. the only sound is the monotone ticking of a clock nearing the ends of its battery life, the hands dragging themselves from second to second with visible exertion. ‘five minutes,’ they’d told her, and then promptly proceeded to be gone for at least fifteen. like she doesn’t have places to be. 

her gaze shifts from the decrepit clock to the walls. she catches herself wondering when this room last saw a lick of paint. it’s a disconcerting shade of cream, the unevenness of which leads her to think that it had perhaps once been white. or light grey, only to be slowly discoloured by decades of indoor smoking. 

there’s a slight creek as the door opens, and the police officers make their way into the room. she’s almost certain they’ve extended their ‘five minutes’ on purpose, for some stupid little power play, but it’s not having its intended effect on her. she has to actively hold herself back from rolling her eyes. she may be many things, but intimidated by men in ill-fitting polyester suits is not one of them.  “ so, miss ....” there’s a notable pause as the one closest to her consults a file. “kennedy-astor, mind if we ask some questions?” once again, she has to almost bite the inside of her cheek not to groan. “by all means, officer. go right ahead.”

the room is at once flooded with the excruciating sound of metal chairs dragging across cheap linoleum flooring as the officers take their seats across from her. she leans back a little, hands folded nonchalantly on her lap. there’s an almost incessant urge building in her to tap her nails rhythmically against the lacquered wooden tabletop. anything to urge them to hurry up already. “When did you last speak to Greer?”

“No comment.” Her tone is measured as she answers. If they think she’s saying anything without legal representation, they’re dead wrong. 

She swears she can see a faint hint of annoyance in the speaker’s eyes, but he clears his throat, moving on all the same. “Right. When did you last actually see Greer?” the other says, with an emphasis on see, as though that might coax her into answer. Heni picks at her cuticle.  “No comment.”

“How well did you know Greer?” She offers a slight smile. Surely they should know what’s in store for them by now. “No comment.” There is a definite sense of agitation in the air, and she’d be lying if she didn’t half take pleasure in it. As much as she could, considering the circumstances. “What was your relationship with Greer like?” the first officer tries, leaning forward in an attempt to be .... menacing? engaging? She can’t tell.  Did they even need to ask this? Surely they’d seen enough instagram photos while investigating to piece the puzzles together. She’d be surprised if these officers would be able to locate a plug socket in an IT patch room. Why spend all this time barking up the wrong tree?

“No comment.”

“Have you heard or seen anything about where she was this summer?” It’s the second officer this time. No weird, jilted emphasis, but there is an undercurrent of resignation to his tone. 

She hasn’t. She doesn’t think anyone has. But she’d been so busy, she figured that was as much to do with her ridiculous travel plans as it was Greer.  “No comment.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted Greer to disappear, would you?” 

“Excuse me?” The tone is sharp and clipped, her voice taking on the cadence of a silver spoon against a crystal glass. Henrietta takes a short, shallow breath, as if to calm herself, before looking back at the other. Sometimes, she thinks to herself, it should be socially acceptable to kick someone in the shin and walk off. “No, she’s my best friend, why on earth would I want her gone?” Her voice is a tad softer as she speaks, lamenting on the times the two of them had spent together over the course of the years. The guilt burns hot in her chest. “She’s seen me in retainers - there’s no coming back from that.” The joke falls flat, even before she’s finished saying it. “She’ll show up, I’m sure of it. Give it another week, and she’ll stroll through those doors with a fresh tan like nothing ever happened.” Her hand finds its way into her coat pocket to conceal the vague tremors. Who is she trying to convince - them or herself?

“Frankly, officers, not only are you wasting my time, but you’re wasting yours.” She slides an intentionally cream-coloured business card across the table. Take that, walls. “Next time, I’d appreciate if we could do this in the presence of my lawyer.”   

[snoopmary]

Wading into the politics: or, why does NYC elect so many idiots?

What? Why are you saying that, Catwoman? I came here for the tabloid deconstruction, not political destruction! Well, this got my back up so you’ve been warned, you can skip over my diatribe about this BS if you like. 

But I found this concerning enough to break my own rule about not crossing the blog streams of my fun with real life issues, and you might too.

You’re welcome to disagree, I encourage it even. But I’ve learnt that when something makes the hackles on my neck rise, no matter how innocuous it might seem or hyperbolic the reaction, to pay attention to it. 

In the afters of contracting with places of worship to house homeless male migrants, NYC Mayor Eric Adams also thinks offering up private residences to migrants will benefit New Yorkers in the long-term since NYC has run out of hotel rooms and shelter space and hotels are fed up with the destruction of their property. 

He thinks if the city can find a way to get over the 30-day rule and other rules that federal and state governments have in place, the City can spend $4.2 billion in tax dollars (or as he thinks of it, Monopoly money rather than Americans’ money!) and pay New Yorkers to rent out their spare rooms. 

To be clear, he might not be saying “force people,” but we all know you can’t trust politicians and that “never” is always “unless I can get away with it” for them. Slippery slopes are the natural habitat of politicians the world over, and one sneezes and another starts WW1. 

So let’s look at what my favourite legal document, the beautiful US Constitution, says about Adams’ suggestion, shall we?

Aside from the inevitable judicial extension of the Third Amendment this would cause? [No forcible housing of military personnel in a citizen's home during times of peace and only if passed by Congress in times of war and within strict legal limits with an enforced end date!]

One of the driving forces behind the Second Amendment were the circumstances referenced in the Third: forcible seizure and forced housing of British soldiers. While these migrants aren't soldiers, the circumstances and rhetoric Adams is using is as near to exact stitching of what the British said. Oh, we’ll pay, oh, it’s an economic hardship mitigation policy, oh oh oh. Don’t Tread On Me was the OG Get Off My Lawn, peeps. It wasn’t just taxation without representation that caused the American Revolution, and the behaviour of British troops made the occupied territories during that war a very unpleasant place to be for women in their own goddamn homes, I might add. Hashtag InsertHairyFuckinEyeballHere!

Furthermore: one could also argue that the bill of attainder clause under Article I, Section 9 is being violated by this proposal. Specifically: the effect of such a bill is to nullify the targeted person's civil rights, most notably the right to own property (and thus pass it on to heirs). Owning and controlling one's own property would be violated under this cockamamie BS. Also? Article I, Section 10, powers denied to the states? States are expressly forbidden from issuing bills of attainder. Cities have no political ability to circumvent those laws Eric mentioned re: $4Bn, so oh look Eric has political ambitions beyond NYC. Talk about telegraphing a punch, yeah? Article IV, Section 2: Equality of jurisdiction under the Constitution.

The Citizens of each State shall be entitled to all Privileges and Immunities of Citizens in the several States. The 5th Circuit would have the easiest morning session ever ruling hard against NY on this. But Catwoman, there are other amendments? What do they say?  Fourth Amendment: not just for searches! Seizure can apply to property, such as forcible housing. See also Third Amendment.

The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized. Fifth Amendment: Not just for Nixon and others!

No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.

Pleading the Fifth would become a normal thing, y’all. Who defines just compensation? What about damages? What about insurance - who is liable if shit hits the fan? Moreover, what about food? Quartering doesn’t just pertain to a roof and a bed. The list could go on.

Lastly, 14th Amendment, Section 1: A personal favourite

All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

America is an ongoing exercise in compromise, its greatest strength and advantage. Yet politicians like Adams are making a hobby of constitutional overreach and that is a very bad thing.