#adventures in close calls with manslaughter of children

[very-grownup]

NUMBER 2

Are you interested in dating a man who's a little bit complicated? Consider: Ji Ruo Chen.

While he's a respected cultivator, Ji Ruo Chen is of humble origins and lacks the pretensions and prejudices of his peers. Growing up on the border of the wasteland with roughly affectionate parents, Ji Ruo Chen is accustomed to taking care of things, making do, and improvising. Some might call this "criminal" or "entrapment" or "theft" or "assault" or "covering up manslaughter by throwing a man off a cliff", but that's just the sort of close-minded thinking you won't have to deal with if you date Ji Ruo Chen. He's adopted but he doesn't let that weigh on him or change the love he has for his parents, even if he does discover they're disguised demons who escaped from hell and he's the sole heir of the demon king of hell who was kept in baby stasis for thousands of years until his parents could establish a safe crime inn on the edge of society. That isn't information Ji Ruo Chen was looking for and it's not information that he's terribly interested in pursuing. What's past is past, and Ji Ruo Chen doesn't have much to do with past he didn't have a say in.

Ji Ruo Chen is about the present and the future.

Sometimes rough around the edges, Ji Ruo Chen is a hard worker and isn't daunted by challenges. He's willing to put the time into working on his flaws and doesn't give up. This man will persevere if you pursue a relationship together and not be easily daunted by what society says, although if your parents are a bit too involved in your romantic life they may be able to bully him which is part of his biggest flaw: if Ji Ruo Chen thinks he is protecting you, he will take action without further discussion. Whether it's risking his life or sort-of breaking up with you, Ji Ruo Chen's determination crumbles if it seems like being with him will hurt you. Constant and consistent communication is key and with enough practice and positive reinforcement, Ji Ruo Chen should be able to learn to pause and talk WITH you before doing things like destroying the source of his power to ensure your continued health.

For a while, dating Ji Ruo Chen will be exciting, full of adventure and travel and probably riding at least one cool dragon, but in the long-term Ji Ruo Chen is going to want to settle down. Eventually, he's going to want children. If you aren't on the same page, there's going to be hurt feelings all around.

As long as you're on the same page, though, have fun dating Ji Ruo Chen!

Go to Number 1?

Go back to Number 3?

Or return to the beginning?

[yarking]

So I get into work today and I hear that apparently someone left a LOADED GUN in our breakfast room. It was aparently ready to be fired. Thank god it was found by a marine and not one of the many young children we have at the inn currently, but the owner of the gun turned out to be a retired cop with a permit to carry. He toted his loaded gun around in his POCKET, not even in a goddamn HOLSTER and it fucking FELL OUT.

I am fucking livid. A retired cop is the last person who should have a shitty grasp on gun safety, and yet he keeps it loaded and in his fucking pocket. Even as I type this, a couple of girls that aren't even teenagers yet went upstairs to their room here. What if one of them had found it? We called in the police, and apprently when the policelady was like "you... you know there was a bullet in the chamber" all incredulously the guy said he knew and that's how he carried it.

That fucking bastard. And apparently nothing is even going to happen! Totally fucking legal to woopsie-daisy your loaded gun in a common area with kids. Won’t even have his liscense revoked. Bastard.

[archive-idium]

1.-45. For Seiko and Jay. JUST DO IT AND SUFFER

Character Development Questions: Hard Modequoting: do like 1-15 for Seiko and 20-35 for Jay 

Seiko;;1. Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?Seiko doesn’t have anyone close in his age group. Even If there was someone from his family like his half brother; he would be likely try to avoid them.

2. What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?He doesn’t have a proper opinion for that. She wasn’t around him very early.

3. What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like? It’s a bit confusing. At times he would say It is fantastic, then the other minute he would be in distress at the slightest thought of his own biological father. Seiko can contact him; but he has reasons not to.4. Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

He saw a fox woman getting kidnapped; when he was a kid. Later discovered her as a victim of manslaughter in newspapers. She used to be his old caretaker when he lived with Leonidas, his biological dad. Since then he had a poor understanding of death; this point have lead him to believe that women despise his existence. It made him dress feminine ever since the event in the sake to … Catch their interest. It’s a long story.No one knows of this situation, aside from his biological father. But he doesn’t know that It affected Seikos’ understanding of death.5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?Hairpins and wrapped licorice candies.6. Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?He does – It always involves him being a woman; and living a different, but a desired lifestyle. Often dreams of how his mother looks like.7. Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?He doesn’t. Seiko rarely has dreams, and when he does; It’s usually as how stated in question #6.8. Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?He shot his best friend by accident; but It was given to shoot under pressure.9. Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?If I understand the meaning of socioeconomic status well – He currently is categorized as a working class member. Seiko did finish high school; finished online studies of interior design. Currently earns profit through streaming games; sometimes sells sewn clothes he learned from his adoptive grandmother.10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?More clothing. Less clothing would be only worn at the bedroom or with someone he’s close with in a romantic sense.11. In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?When someone broke down in his step -- fathers’ house, while Jay wasn’t around until an hour later. It lead to him hiding at different areas constantly and almost getting caught.There where other events that lead to fright; but this was most memorable to him. The concept of death was more understandable from here.12. In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?When he attended his first convention and ended up finding a few more people that where of his species – And kitsune’s. Befriended them; had his anxiety soothed by the cheerful company he was in.

13. Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?Due to being a half creature of a wild canine; It can bother him solely on the hunger part. Seiko has tried to consume human meat earlier in the past, but refuses to take part in cannibalism since he might go through … Something you could call as a “ withdrawal. “14. Does your character remember names or faces easier?He remembers faces, better. Majority of the people he knows have names that are common in other countries, so It does confuse him. He always can recall a familiar face.15. Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not? Most of the items bring him plenty of comfort and occupy his mind from negative ideas or intentions. Clothes are another factor; which really let him express himself. Other items are usually have to do something with him – Whether It are wolf girl figurines, a sweater with wolf ears and such.A bit of a hoarder too, TBH.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Jay;;20. In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?When It comes to comparing; It’s more for self - validation. He already understands that he came here with imperfections, might as well focus on the parts to be proud -- worthy of.21. If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?He would always feel as if he where to deserve it. While he isn’t very expressive; him fiddling his thumbs alone would be a dead give away with him feeling low after an event that isn’t so pleasing.Jay would only blame another individual if he knows that there was something he DIDN’T cause for sure.22. What does your character like in other people?Their mannerism. How differently each person behaves while having similar interests and portraying their excitement/disappointment to the topic.23. What does your character dislike in other people?The narcissism. Especially in youth or individuals involved with business. While a lot would hate these particular types of people; he just can’t stand it to a high degree.24. How quick is your character to trust someone else?His gut feeling usually helps in this situation; not to mention working at a organization in the past that required to take notice in every piece of one’s personality to detect their nature. Sometimes he pretends as If he doesn’t take notice in the red flags until in the moment, for the fun.25. How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?He doesn’t trust the individual ever since from speaking to them; only taken at ease and develops more trust when he gets to know them better. Sometimes he’ll seek on the hand motions and mannerisms the other person performs and guesses from that; as well.He trusts anyone he is close with. It’s a small circle of people he actually has no trouble with believing in.26. How does your character behave around children?He’s a bit awkward around them; won’t lie. Jay doesn’t mind giving candy here and there; or to the children of his friends. Sometimes even gives sweets for the trick & treaters during Halloween. As long as they actually reach his house from that far. LOL.27. How does your character normally deal with confrontation?Puts up a neutral attitude; never mind that his expression does change to concern. Usually he would try to ease up the tension in the situation to be able to provide better answers to the confrontation.In a highly fantastic mood -- He’d crack jokes and provide answers afterwards.28. How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation? Never raises his hand unless provoked to; or if It where a victim of his. The provoking part is usually rare; though.29. What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?He dreamed to become a scientist; or at least be involved in bio engineering – His inspiration was Leonidas Verruckte; who turned out to be the biological father of his adoptive son. He worked with him, though.Jay was actually a great student; passing with a nice, bright red diploma indicating his chances to study further.It didn’t come true. He’s just a deep web personality now; a hit man and mercenary. At least those professions provide him with fine wealth.30. What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?Hard to say; he can stomach a lot of things for someone who’s actually involved into cannibalistic ideas. Corpses; rotten limbs; swollen bodies are whatever.Although -- He did find it disgusting when he saw someone look at Seiko inappropriately; just when he was a teenager. It couldn’t be helped that he would dress in some clothes that might not be quite alright; but It still grossed him out, the fact someone would look at his son with an odd eye.So I guess; you can say he’s kind of repulsed by pedophiles?31. Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.It’s winter; or the weather is at least leaning towards the colder temperatures. Fire was started in the furnace; Seiko is playing some sort of thriller / adventure video game in his console while he watches horror themed films.They both have hot drinks to keep themselves warm. Trying out the drinks his son receives from monthly subscriptions of snack -- involved goodies.32. Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.Family reunion type of events. While having no problem greeting his relatives; they’re clearly fond of putting some sort of pressure when It comes to having “ biological “ children and finding a partner to wed.It gets worse if he’s sitting by the table that’s further from the exit of the house he’s visiting / living in.33. In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve? Depending on the situation – Most likely defensive. Not in the way that he would cower himself; rather find an excuse within the other person to gaslight them. That method is usually done with victims or strangers, though.Normally he’d be still defensive; say an excuse here and there and then willing to improve himself. As long as the criticism is actually something worthy to change. If It’s something as -- “You need to wash clothes, you smell like you’re a homeless person.” then he won’t listen. 34. Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?More likely keep on with the same solution method until It’s sure enough that It will not work out. Usually keeps with the attempt for long.35. How does your character behave around people they like?Flirtatious or friendly; depending on the ‘like’ part. It’s not surprising from him that he would tend to say inappropriate jokes. If he likes an individual as a friend; It’s all never ending support from him, coming from his fatherly nature. Overall a people’s person.

[just-a-hopeful-storyteller]

Remembering and Hoping

Walking along the sidewalk of a place I used to call home, I start to remember all the crazy adventures I used to have with my best friend. I'm walking up to the old apartment where we used to live. Where there was always drilling and cars and a bunch of other noise that disturbed our videos. It seems so long we had this place to make videos and lived together. Now, we've moved on with our lives. Our videos slowly stopped coming until we ultimately said goodbye to the millions of fans we've made. We moved out of the place we used to live together to love with the ones we love. Now Phil is off, married to a girl and raising kids. I, on the other hand, decided to actually explore the world and see what's out there. Of course, it isn't the same without Phil. But, it still was a treat. Phil and I have seen a lot of the world already. From tours to conventions, two British boys seen a lot in their time. Sometimes I miss the days where Phil and I would play Sims for the fans. I wonder if I could boot up the old computer again? It would be great to see Dil and the family again. Even though they are just Sims, they somehow left an impact on many people's lives, and left Phil and I with many memories. From cosplayers to fan fiction about the lives of Sims, I would be lying if I said I expected it all. The flat where Phil and I made most of those memories is up for sale. I managed to get in a looking with a sales person even though I'm not going to buy it. I just want to see it. I just want to see the memories. I look around. Some of the damage we did to this place is still here. Some holes in the walls and some scratches here and there. Overall, most of the scars we gave this place have faded or been painted over, as if nothing happened. I smile as I walk through it. The layout of this flat was always a mystery for our fans. No one could figure it out even going it was relatively simple. I laughed sometimes at people trying to piece together the map and layout. Trying to piece together the rooms so Phil and I would be next to each other. It's just one of those things I look back fondly on. As I go up to what used to be our game room, I remember cringing at every gaming video I had to edit. I hated how the camera had to be placed due to the vaulted ceiling. I wanted to tear it down so badly, but we dealt with it. Now that I think about it, the camera wasn't that bad. It certainly didn't deserve the hate I gave it. Seeing the rooms and seeing the memories just reminded me how close we once were. Of course, we still remained close. But we didn't spend as much time as we did back then. Phil got married after all. So, we saw each other for brunch and sent each other happy birthday and other holidays texts. I was around to become his children's god parent, which I'm glad for. Although I still wonder how good I will be at raising kids. I send emails to Phil and his wife about the many adventures I have. Lately, though, I've been telling him all my stories. From the old to the new. Just talking. After seeing the place, I decide it would be a good time to see Phil. Just to talk for a while. I haven't seen him this week, so I should now. I drive up to the place Phil is staying. I go through the door and, like muscle memory, go to his door. I hate this place. I wish he could move out of here, but I know he can't. Outside of his door, his wife was sitting there. "Hey, Cam." I say. She looks up at me with tired eyes and a tear stained face. "Hello." She says. No energy. I expected that, of course, with everything going on. I still miss the very hyper and high energy Cam I met when Phil introduced me to her years ago. Always making jokes and smiling. Even if there was something wrong, she managed to make everything great. This time, however, things are too different for her. "How's Phil?" I ask. "I haven't been in there all night." She says. "I stayed here to be with him, but I couldn't go in." "Go home." I say. "Your kids probably miss you." Cam nods, picks up her bags and turns to leave. "Oh, Dan?" She asks. I turn to her to listen to her request. "Could you get rid of the flowers from the Scotlands? I can't bare to look at them." I agree and go in. There, I see Phil tied to a million machines keeping him alive. Broken bones and internal damage caused his body just to collapse on him after he was hit by a drunk driver. The driver is in jail for manslaughter now, but only because the person Phil was with, Cams best friend, died on impact. I guess I should believe I'm lucky to have Phil still here and alive. But a poorly written apology and some flowers from the guys family doesn't make up for the fact Phil is here. Struggling every day to live. Even if he lives, I worry he will be drowned in guilt because Cams best friend didn't make it out. Even still, I want him back. I take the flowers and put them outside the door with a note saying take them away. Then, I sit down next to Phil and touch his arm. "Hey, Phil." I start to say with a few tears in my eye. "I went to our old flat today."

[gyrlversion]

Last words of ex-air hostess in harrowing 999 call

The last words of an ex-air hostess who died of a heart attack after burglars broke into the home she had lived in all her life have been revealed.

The ‘extremely distressing’ 999 call made by Maureen Whale has been released as her family appeal for help to bring those responsible to justice.

Maureen, who was 77-years-old at the time of her death, was at her home in Bells Hill, Barnet, at around 6pm on December 4 when two men broke into her home and stole her handbag.

The pensioner, who was born at the property in 1940 and who survived The Blitz collapsed while on the phone to a 999 operator and was taken to hospital in a critical condition. The former air stewardess died the following day.

Maureen Whale (pictured left and right) was born in 1940 and had lived at the property in Barnet all of her life 

The house in Barnet (pictured above) where Maureen Whale had lived through The Blitz

CCTV images which had been released by the police show three suspects who are wanted in connection with Maureen’s death

One of the items of jewellery (pictured above) which was stolen from the home of Maureen Whale

A post-mortem examination found her death from coronary heart disease had been brought on by the stress of the crime, and it is being treated by police as manslaughter.

In the recording, the pensioner can be heard saying ‘I’m shaking, I’m sorry’, and then telling the call handler ‘I can’t talk, I’m sorry’ as an ambulance is called.

The operator pleads: ‘Maureen hang on in there please,’ but there is no response.

Her niece Gina said: ‘Hearing the last phone call made by my aunt is extremely distressing but we hope that by releasing this to the public, someone, somewhere will be moved to come forward with information.

Other items which were stolen from the property included a love heart necklace (left and a ring (right)

Police (pictured above) searched the area back in December close to the detached house in Barnet 

A shocked neighbour left these white roses on Mrs Whale’s doorstep after it was revealed the pensioner had died 

‘Our aunt was a fiercely independent woman who should have been safe in the home she had lived in all of her life.

‘No-one deserves to die in this way and we urge anyone who can help bring these men to justice to come forward and assist police with their investigation.’

Maureen had lived in the house with her mother Phyllis, who is believed to have died in 1993. 

Maureen Whale (pictured above) had previously worked as an air hostess

Mrs Whale was enjoying her retirement in the little cottage – described as ‘her world’ – after holding down positions as a nurse, medical secretary and librarian and ‘living out her dream’ to become an air hostess, friends said, after learning of her death. 

Her only living relatives are a nephew and niece who live in Hertfordshire. They are the children of her brother Roy, who is also dead. 

Police are linking the break-in to three other burglaries in the area on the same day. They have released CCTV footage of two men entering her home and their accomplice, who acted as a lookout.

Detective Chief Inspector Noel McHugh, who is leading the investigation, said: ‘Maureen died for the few pounds that were in her purse. It is so wrong that a woman who was so adventurous travelling the world in her younger days should die in such awful circumstances, for just a few pounds, in her own home.

‘Someone will recognise these burglars from CCTV or from a change in their behaviour, and I am appealing to the families and partners of these individuals to help Maureen’s family get the justice they deserve.

In December police officers released an image of Maureen Whale using her small brown wallet to pay for items during a shopping trip earlier in the day

Police forensics officers (shown at the house) were seen working at the property in December

‘For anyone teetering on whether to make that call, just listen to the distressing 999 call that Maureen made. Just imagine it could have been your mum or nan.

‘Burglary is a horrid crime, but what happened to Maureen is utterly wicked.

‘In December we found Maureen’s bag in a hedge on the outskirts of Ravenscroft Park and we are continuing to ask anyone who may have seen or been given the items stolen in the other burglaries on the same night to get in touch.’

The first suspect is described as a man who wore a black body warmer over a light-coloured, long-sleeved top and a dark woolly hat. He climbed over the outside gate, opened the gate and then went into the house.

The second man who also went into the house was wearing a long-sleeved top with dark patches and he had his fur-trimmed hood up. He was also wearing dark trousers and light-coloured trainers.

The man who acted as a lookout at the window was wearing a long-sleeved, dark, hooded top or jacket. He had a baseball cap on underneath the hood of his jacket and was also wearing light-coloured jogging bottoms and dark trainers.

Police also want to speak to the driver of a small, four-door hatchback car, possibly a Skoda Fabia, which travelled along Bells Hill towards Lexington Way directly past the suspects just before the break-in.

Barnet was heavily bombed during the war, but the house where Mrs Whale lived survived

Mrs Whale had lived in Barnet since she was born in 1940. Pictured: Its High Street that year

It is being linked to two more burglaries in the road on the same evening, and another around half-a-mile away on Sampson Avenue at 11.45am on the that day.

A reward of £20,000 is being offered for information leading to the arrest and prosecution of the intruders. 

Anyone with information can call the police incident room on 020 8785 8099, or Crimestoppers anonymously on 0800 555 111.

A full transcript of the 999 call made by Maureen

Below is the transcript released by the Metropolitan Police of the 999 call made by Maureen Whale:

Met Police: Police, what’s your emergency?

Maureen Whale: I’ve just been burgled

MP: You’ve just been burgled?

MW: Yes, two young men just went into the house and walked off with my handbag

MP: OK, just hold on please. Hold on, I’ll get someone out there. How long ago did this happen?

MW: Just now

MP: OK

MW: Two minutes ago

MP: OK, all right. Are you OK? How old are you? How old are you, please?

MW: I’m 77 *heavy breathing*

MP: Are you on your own?

MW: Yes, yes

MP: Are you OK?

MW: Sorry

MP: Are you OK?

MW: I’m shaking, I’m sorry

MP: Do you need an ambulance or anything? Are you finding it hard to breathe?

MW: Yes, yes

MP: OK, I’m going to call an ambulance.

*heavy breathing*

MP: Have you got any chest pains?

*heavy breathing*

MP: What’s your first name, please?

MW: Maureen. I can’t talk, I’m sorry

MP: OK, I’ve called an ambulance for you. Hold on

*heavy breathing*

MP: Just hold on, please. Hello. Hello. Hello. Maureen? Hello. Maureen? Hello. Oh dear. Maureen, hang on in there, please. Maureen, can you hear me? If you can, tap the handset, make a noise or cough. Maureen, it says on my screen that the police have arrived. We’re going to be with you soon. Hello Maureen. The police should be there, we’re just around the corner. Oh, Maureen, please answer me, please

*knocking on door*

Background: Hello love, are you OK? 

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[613526362]

Positivity

As I left my car with its blinkers flashing, I started to walk towards the entrance. Someone had beat me though. A couple. Dressed in formal attire. Maybe they had come from a nearby event? Or wait...maybe they were going to an event? A secret late night affair, in the zoo!? I had been driving along and saw "[Redacted] Zoo" on my GPS. Thinking, "Oh shit. No way there's a zoo right here. Too fucking cool. I, I........I should definitely go see if I can get in," I just drove over to the zoo and parked outside. I had planned to break in, but crashing a late night zoo fundraiser or themed ball would be even better.... I stood by the road and watched them walk towards the gate for a bit, trying to look uninterested while also seeing how they got in. But it quickly became clear they weren't getting in. They had arrived to a locked gate. Then, I saw the man motion for the woman to step a foot up on his joined hands, so he could boost her up. At that point I started walking towards them. Halfway to them, and moments before he jolted her up, I yelled out to them - "Hey! Are you trying to break into the zoo! They both looked at me like deer in the headlights. A horrified expression came over their faces. I quickly added, "Because if you are, I'm coming with you!" Less than two seconds later my phone dinged. Looking up at them from my phone, I yelled once more - "Oh shit, I got a ride. I'm a Lyft driver and I have to go pick someone up. Sorry guys!" The man looked at me in dismay and said, "Oh noooooo." They were visibly disappointed that I wasn't joining them on the adventure anymore I was also a bit disappointed too, but they probably would have tried to have sex outside the lion exhibit, and I didn't really want to wind up in jail tonight anyways Redacted Two days earlier I was on top of the world. Mostly because I had been in hell for a while, and things were finally looking up. God had pulled me out of a dead end once again. I had been out of money, unable to pay tuition, running a failing business, sick back to back, and in a failing relationship. I was contemplating suicide again. I was really thinking of how it would ease my pain, how peaceful it would be. And then something happened. I sat at home and listened to a cash register open and ding time after time after time. I run my course payments through Shopify and have an iPad just for my business, and that iPad makes a noise every time a customer buys a spot in my classes. I've never had more than two or three students in an advanced class, and not much more in the basic class. I've lost over $12,000 on the venture. Or rather, I had. All of a sudden, the cash register sound just started going crazy. Not only did I fill my classes last weekend, I overfilled them and had to turn away scores of people. I made a couple thousand dollars in one day. Redacted And so things were going great for a few days. But my life is extremely volatile. Yesterday morning I got a phone call from an old friend. He told me his girlfriend had been contacted by a "private investigator" looking for me. To make a very, very long story short: Marshall thinks he can run from subpoena Subpoena delivery boy harasses Marshall's friend's girlfriend. Subpoena delivery boy harasses Marshall's friend at his new job, implying that Marshall's friend is wanted by the Hilcock DA Marshall spends two hours trying to figure out how to make his phone number untraceable to contact the DA and tell them that he's outside the nation Marshall decides he doesn't want to pay $100 for a prepaid phone Marshall calls the bastard Marshall informs subpoena delivery boy that before they discuss anything, subpoena delivery boy must agree 100% to apologize to Marshall's friend and clarify to his employer that he did nothing wrong Subpoena delivery boy agrees Marshall learns that he is a key witness in a vehicular manslaughter case. I drew the blood of the suspect after he hit another car and drove it off the road, killing [redacted]. Usually the paramedic who drew the blood isn't all that important, but Hilcox county and their dumbassery lost the tape Subpoena delivery boy gets a bit disrespectful with Marshall over the phone The next day, upon receiving the subpoena via email, Marshall sends a string of emails to high ranking officials in the DA's office accusing subpoena delivery boy of "reckless, disrespectful, and potentially damaging behavior." The DA resists at first but eventually agrees to discipline subpoena delivery boy Marshall realizes the subpoena is for the same day that he has a mandatory final exam Things get worse And worse Redacted Last night, I found myself sitting in my room, trying to study. I couldn't. We'd had an argument, and it was a defining argument. She's always said that she could accept these three two things: that I would have to make trips to Africa to help there, that I didn't believe in and wouldn't allow anyone to hit my children, and that I wouldn't have more than two. Actually, the last one wasn't even that important to me. But I couldn't see myself having five like she wanted to. More importantly, I knew she resented me for those things and would forever try to change my mind and coerce me. Of course she denied that. But it came out, from time to time. In that argument, it came out in a big way. I thought we were just having a pleasant evening conversation, but she started saying, "You want me to compromise on things but you're not willing to compromise yourself." She brought up all three of those things - two of which I had already significantly compromised on (I don't compromise on violence towards children) - and showed her true resentfulness and spite. I wasn't interested in arguing. It seemed most of our phone conversations had turned into arguments recently. Four months in and it's a constant argument. Four months in and this level of incompatibility. Four months in and we love each other so much. How could it be. I couldn't study. I had messaged her saying I was going to pray about our relationship over the coming days, but that I felt it had become a relationship of continual conflict, and it was becoming more clear that we are not only incompatible in the long-run, but also incompatible on a day to day basis. She didn't reply much. To her it was still a close set in one of her games of relationship tennis. She had to play hard to win. To me it was match point. And we were both about to lose. I did pray. I couldn't focus on studying, so I decided to go out to drive. My second trip was a twenty-something couple, and they seemed average in nearly every way. They seemed nice enough to put up with some prodding, so I allowed myself out on a limb: "So, you guys are together.......If you don't mind me asking, how often do you argue?" What started was a series of taxi rides where I discussed my relationship with Pandemos with about seven people. The conclusion was both powerful and unanimous - get the fuck out of there. The last ride I did was two rather but not totally drunk post college-aged girls, who were stunningly beautiful. Although I wouldn't describe them as warm individuals, after some five minutes, they asked me how my night was going. And it was on. I told them everything. Pandemos' lack of support for my intended trips to Africa was the defining moment for them. They immediately blurted, "Yeah, fuck her. You do your thing, and forget about her." What struck me most was that I presented Pandemos in the most fair fashion in each instance. I would talk about how she was raped and sexually abused and beaten as a child, and how she still had terrors from all that. But I guess her behaviors towards me were inexcusable. Before I dropped them off and they labeled me "The coolest Lyft driver ever," the blonde one asked, "So what are you going to do?" I said, "Do you really want to know?" Redacted 15 days later, I grabbed my phone and scrolled to find Pandemos in my contacts. Usually she was close to the top, but now it was hard to even find her, on the recent call list, voicemails - anywhere. Finally I located her name and tapped the screen. The seconds I waited to hear the first ring felt like decades. It had been so long since we'd talked, and going from a relationship of constant communication to dead silence had left me feeling empty. Even a day after, I noticed the wind felt different, I walked different, I perceived smells different, had a different inflection in my voice. Everything was, sterile again. The color of life had faded. When she picked up, I first noticed that her voice was stern. Her "hello" was neither a question nor a harsh statement. But it was definitely not a greeting. "Hi Pandemos." Neither was mine. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you," she said. "I just need to talk to you about something." "Okay......" "Do you remember when you last came to the Big City to visit, and I started having throat pain after you left?" "Um.....yes." "Well, as you might remember, after I gave it 6 days and realized it wasn't viral and was just getting worse, I did a 7 day course of Cephalexin, thinking it was strep. And as you might remember, when I came off cephalexin, the throat pain and lymph node swelling came right back, and so I started amoxicillin. Well, what you don't know is that the amoxicillin, it didn't work either. So when I realized it wasn't viral, and it wasn't strep, and it had been a month and the infection was still lingering, I had to go to a doctor. And that doctor right away asked me if I'd had any sexual activity. I said yes. He asked if I'd done oral sex. I said yes. And then he told me he was sure I had chlamidyal pharyngitis. He told me you need to get tested, because 85% of people with chlamidya are asymptomatic. He said you need to do a cervical swab, not a urine test. The urine test isn't accurate. You should do it soon, and don't have any sexual partners until you know your result. If it comes back negative, you should either also do a urine test or have another cervical swab in less than a month, since it's not 100% accurate. Oh yeah, and don't do the swab while you're menstruating." "...........................Um, I think if I had chlamidya I would know." "Look, I know you never listened to me much, but this might be a time to listen to me. If you have chlamidya and you don't get it treated, you'll never be able to have kids. It will make you infertile. I'm going to let you go now, but please let me know the result when you get it back." Redacted Love is a mysterious thing. Now granted, some of the details of what I said aren't exactly true. The cunning doctor who got the diagnosis, is in actuality, of course, me. Redacted Oh yeah, did I mention I'm very alone now? Did I mention I feel, very, very alone now? Did I mention I'm going crazy in my room? Alone, in my room? I'm alone, in a room. In "my" room. No one to talk to, because I killed her. To save her, I killed her. To save many, I kill some. She gained weight and her periods came back, she came off the pill and felt human again. Now, she's going to kill the bacteria that would kill her children. So much killing. I kill myself, all the time. There's little left to kill. But I have much work left to do.

[rubylocket]

006. papa, où t’es?

title: papa, où t’es? fandom: jojo’s bizarre adventure characters/pairings: jolyne kujo/jotaro kujo rating: r warnings: incest summary: you don’t even have to tell him; he knows what’s hurting you. a/n: obligatory disclaimer that if you’re triggered or repulsed by incest, i urge you not to read further. in writing this, i sought to neither condone nor fetishize the dynamic contained herein. proceed at your own discretion.

[ AO3 mirror ]

“tell me where he came from then i’ll know where to go mama always says when we look hard we’ll find what we have lost”

It didn’t bother her much when she was young ( — in retrospect, it should have).

She would stare at her feet as parents came to pick up their children in the elementary school parking lot — mothers and fathers alike. She waited for her own mother; she knew she would come.

In the meantime, she was forced to hear their conversations. Fathers asking their daughters how their days went; girls laughing and laughing. If daughters were stars, then their fathers were the moon.

Together, always together.

※

Subconsciously, Jolyne’s mind clung to the few vague memories she had of him for dear life.

Through the thick fog of time, she could see them together. Her father, throwing her in the air, flashing a rare grin. Her hand gripping his thumb. Jumping in puddles, the familiar smell of ozone in the aftermath of a storm clinging to the air.

She could never identify with the girl in those visions. After her mother would kiss her forehead and tuck her in, she’d close her eyes and conjure the few recollections she did have in the hopes of reliving them. And yet, they seemed more like scenes from a movie — pages from a novel — than her own lived experiences.

She always wondered what happened between the highlight reel.

※

It was as though a switch had been flipped when she began middle school.

Anger circulated in her veins, latent yet potent, waiting for release. Even as a twelve-year-old, she could recognize the irrationality of it all. There was no reason to pick a fight with that girl in English class who had been giggling over Jolyne’s hair — at the same time, there was no reason not to.

There were rumors, of course. She initially told herself that anybody who was anybody in middle school had rumors go around about them. It became a matter of pride; she was different, and considering the caliber of classmates around her, she was fine with that.

She was fine with that until the instant she heard “daddy issues.”

It was the first time, but it wouldn’t be the last. She recalls it vividly now, even more vividly than any memories of her father himself.

“—Oh my god, tell me about it. Jolyne is such a guy. Do you think she’s gay?”

“Probably. Isn’t her dad a deadbeat or something? I bet she’s weird ‘cause she’s got daddy issues.”

Their words reverberated against the brick walls of the claustrophobic locker room, and all she can remember now is the color red.

Red, red, red — and a flash of blue.

※

And now, many months later, her first year of high school brings good tidings in the form of subpoenas and affidavits.

It’s bad enough that this is happening to begin with, but a vague hope had taken root in her mind as she waited for her mother to come to the police station. An unseen power would intervene — God, her father, both, she doesn’t know.

The hope dies before it even begins to grow as she listens to her mother’s words in the hallway, the hushed pleas and the acidic accusations.

She hangs up, defeated, and Jolyne grips the metal bench so tightly that her knuckles go white.

Her mother comes to collect her; the ride back to their house is silent.

When Jolyne gets home, she shields herself from her mother’s words of concern and takes the stairs two at a time up to her room.

She doesn’t make it to the bed before she collapses to the floor, sobs tearing through her body, a torrent of stowed feelings covered in dust making their way to the surface. She hadn’t been prepared to feel everything all at once — the disappointment, the volcanic rage, the love and years of hunger — not now, not ever.

‘Dad’ disappears from her vocabulary, comfortably replaced by ‘Jotaro.’

※

Years go by and she never gets over it. It eats at her. She thinks of it when she enters the gang, she blames him for every crime committed, every dollar stolen, every person deceived.

As far as she’s concerned, his rap sheet is far longer than hers.

She thinks of him too when she drifts away from that life. How would he react?

Jolyne sits in the grass behind the school, near the track field, and plays with her lighter. She promised her mom that she’d quit the habit as part of her new lifestyle. The sky is so blue — so blue, it hurts her eyes.

She looks at that sky. He’s out there somewhere, too.

(Her conclusion: he wouldn’t react at all.)

※

For all of her transgressions and offenses, she never thought she’d be in a position like this.

Fifteen years. Fifteen years. It ricochets off the walls of her skull and penetrates her dura mater, settling deep into the core of her.

“There’s got to be some mistake!” she shouts as the guards come to collect her. Eyes darting around like a cornered animal, she turns to her lawyer. “You bastard! You said one year!”

They escort her out and the lawyer’s eyes are cold and clinical.

She thinks of the locket. Cold sweat lines her palms.

She unravels.

※

Jolyne shuffles her priorities around given her new circumstances, and she doesn’t think of him as much anymore. It’s a blessing and a curse. She has largely accepted her life now, although she hasn’t given up on the idea of trying to get out.

When someone calls her name and declares that she has a visitor, she can’t mask her surprise. She didn’t think her mom would be ready to see her like this.

She comes out into the visitor area and her heart stops when she sees him again — a split-second reaction caused by the id hijacking the super-ego.

“You,” Jolyne says lowly, clenching and unclenching her fists.

His gaze doesn’t waver.

“I’m here to break you out.”

She scoffs and turns away, arms akimbo, before striding over to the security guard and launching her fist towards his face.

“If I’m lucky, they’ll put me in solitary confinement!” she yells as she continues beating the guard. The crunch of bone satisfies her in a way that it shouldn’t — at least, not anymore. “Then I’ll never have to see your fucking face again!”

He stands there, silent as he bears witness to her assault. Passive. Passive. Passive. As if he could be anything else.

Once she’s had her fill, she spits on the guard and turns to face Jotaro again.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, but are you really trying to redeem yourself now? Trying to play the part of the loving father?”

She manages to summon up the moxie to match his piercing stare. She sees nothing of herself in his face.

Silence. Stunning in how much it says with so little — it’s utilitarian and safe.

“I don’t think you understand,” he says quietly. The gravity of his voice gives her pause.

He tells her exactly what’s happened to her, and she doesn’t know what to do. There’s so much she could do.

So she does the only thing she knows how to do.

“Thanks for the tip, but I think I’ll figure this one out on my own. You know, just like with everything else?” She laughs and it is hollow and biting. “I don’t know what you expected, but there isn’t a single piece of you in my heart. You’ve got to know that much.”

He says nothing, and she can tell that it’s none of his concern right now.

Some things don’t change.

※

After the escalation of the visitor room incident and after Johngalli A. has been expelled as a threat, she grants him quiet clemency, both for the sake of a working relationship and for her own sanity. As it always goes, however, the mere act of forgiving him does not banish the smoldering embers of resentment that still linger in the back of her mind and heart.

There isn’t enough room in her heart for a new emotion when he falls utterly unconscious before her eyes.

The panic that electrifies every dendrite in her body is foreign to her, unexpected, and she isn’t prepared. This wasn’t an emotion she ever thought she’d experience in relation to the man in front of her.

Fueled by adrenaline, she manages to drag him outside and wait for the Speedwagon Foundation to collect him. Each second stretches into an eternity, and her breaths are too shallow and quick to be substantial.

“Where’s that fucking UUV?” she shouts into the sky, voice breaking as the words scatter into the ocean wind.

She looks back down at Jotaro as blood seeps out of him and drifts onto the surface of the water, swirling around like an oil spill. Her chest feels like it’s on fire and breathing doesn’t come easily.

Finally, just as her knees begin to buckle and she’s about ready to concede defeat, she sees the shadow of something beneath the water near the horizon.

Jolyne has to take a chance, but she clings to his jacket just a little too long before letting go.

※

Trying to do this on her own is harder than she thought.

She’s been self-sufficient her entire life, but after every battle, there’s a recurring singular thought in the back of her mind:

Please come back.

Please come back.

Please come back.

※

After Pucci has been exterminated as a threat, Jolyne finds that she can’t go back to her normal life even after her absolution and exoneration. That bastard lawyer proved useful for once.

She can’t go back to school. Her mother’s gentle suggestion that she do so made her go waxen. She can’t work. She never knows exactly what to put on those applications; her record, while wiped clean of the manslaughter charge, was never expunged of the crimes from more jejune times.

She felt more hopeful in prison than she does now.

Her father made the sudden decision to move back to Florida. Curiously, Jolyne and her mother had been having talks (mostly in euphemisms) about potentially moving away from Florida to escape — her past, her mother’s past, the present, the future — yet, these talks ended a mere two days after her father’s arrival.

(It was, perhaps, mutual, Jolyne thinks as the rain beats against the window of the bus.)

※

What weighs on her mind more than school or work is the navigation of this newfound relationship with her father.

There is no solidified dynamic between them. Outside of the context of battle, he’s as awkward and distant as he ever was. He’s kept busy by professorship duties, and she’s similarly occupied with trying to collect the fragments of her life and haphazardly piece them back together.

Nevertheless, she shows up on the doorstep of Jotaro’s apartment complex every Friday night clad in a light jacket and short shorts, night bag in hand.

Jolyne doesn’t gain much from these visits, but it provides some much needed routine and a semblance of normalcy in her life otherwise laden with trauma. She watches whatever movie that catches her eye on TV and he pores over lab results and codes data — his life can be measured in p-values and correlation coefficients, things that she decidedly has no interest in.

Yet, she finds herself captivated by him, from the way he moves to the way his hand tenses up when he’s encountered something that doesn’t add up in the data. She curls up in the corner of the living room loveseat and studies him as intently as he studies his fieldwork.

Jotaro occasionally peers over his shoulder to look at her, attempting to be as surreptitious as possible and failing. She pretends not to notice, instead observing this phenomenon out of the corner of her eye.

On one such occasion, she experimentally flashes a flirtatious smirk and he looks away in the blink of an eye.

She can't stop herself from tallying it as a victory.

※

“Are you feeling okay?”

The question, issued in signature matter-of-fact fashion, prompts her to look up from her phone.

“What? Yeah. Why?”

His back remains turned to her. “Your face has been flushed the past few times you’ve come here and it’s cold season.”

She scoffs. “I’m fine. Since when do you notice that kinda stuff anyway?”

Jolyne watches as he hooks a finger into the collar of his turtleneck and clears his throat.

She swallows. Hard.

※

Jolyne knows that whatever she’s feeling towards him is childish at best. She tries to forgive herself for that; she never had a real model for how to have a relationship with a father who was absent for the vast majority of her life.

She tries to love him. Despite her best efforts, there’s only one way she knows how.

※

She tosses and turns on the futon set up in the living room and checks the time on her phone for the fifth time that night.

3:08 AM. The numbers mock her.

Jolyne throws off the blanket and starts pacing. As is customary for Florida, it was warm enough for pajama shorts and a tank top when she first went under the sheets, but now it’s far too cold. She grips her arms.

It’s one of the nights where the nightmares have her weaving in and out of slumber. She meanders around the apartment — much too big for a single man with no social life, she ponders — and finds herself facing the door to his bedroom.

She bites her lip. Should she?

A part of her simply wants to know how far she can go. (Which, in reality, is likely not far at all.)

If he gets upset with her — well, that’s his fault.

She delicately turns the knob and eases the door open, walking on the tips of her toes toward the bed. Jolyne moves closer to his side of the bed (why does he need a queen bed when he’s practically on the edge of one side?) and observes him. She’s only seen him in such a vulnerable state on one occasion other than this, and she’d prefer not to think of that.

He looks tranquil to such an extent that it’s a bit jarring for someone like him.

She wants so badly to reach out and touch him, and she almost does before (temporarily) quelling the flames of desire in her mind and moving to the other side of the bed. She gingerly peels back the muted cerulean sheets and slips in, hoping that this will be the end of it and that she didn’t rouse him from his slumber.

As soon as she shuts her eyes, she realizes it’s too late for that as he makes a vague noise indicating consciousness.

“Jolyne,” he murmurs, “what are you doing?”

What is she doing? She doesn’t quite know, herself.

“Making...making up for lost time, I guess,” she answers, matching his sotto voce volume. She retreats into the pillow. This all, quite suddenly, seems excessively juvenile.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Jotaro stealing an inscrutable glance at her before closing his eyes and making some kind of masculine grunt of approval. She rolls her eyes practically on instinct before closing them as well.

Several minutes pass before Jolyne acknowledges that she won’t rest until she sees for herself how far she can go.

“Dad.”

Silence.

“Dad...please.”

An exasperated sigh. He doesn’t open his eyes. “What is it?”

Jolyne moves closer to him, hovering a few inches above his broad chest. She feels like she’s physically being pulled in two different directions. She swallows a scream.

It’s already too late for her.

“You know, just because you let me stay in your house doesn’t mean anything. Why are you still avoiding me after all this time?” she asks. “I thought you moved back here to make things right.”

He’s still silent, but he stiffens.

“I don’t get it. I really don’t.” She bites her lip, disappointment and desperation brewing in her chest. She slides a hand up his bare torso and presses firmly against him. “You weren’t there when I was little and you aren’t here now.”

Her face feels warm and wet, as do the fingers splayed across her father’s chest, and it takes her a moment to realize that she’s been crying.

“I was pissed at you that whole time, you know. You could’ve died and I wouldn’t have cared.”

He tenses up further. She can practically hear the unsaid “is now really the time for this?”.

“But I was pissed at myself most of all...for not being the kind of daughter you could love. And I’m never going to be that person, am I?”

Jolyne weeps, tears staining her face and the sheets and tainting her father’s skin. She grieves as the moonlight beams through the window -- she mourns the image of her father she once had and its innocence. She mourns the death of the last chance at normalcy they had.

Jotaro’s hand slowly curls around her own.

“You’ve always been that person,” he mutters, so quiet that it hardly breaks through the veil of silence at all.

“Don’t say shit like that if you don’t mean it.”

She knows he does and her façade has become a formality.

“If you love me, show me,” she continues, and her muscles stiffen because those words have spelled the point of no return. A half-second passes, and one of two things could happen — she’s not sure which one she’s more afraid of.

Through the dreamy haze of fear and desire, she can feel herself press her lips against her father’s. It’s an act far removed from reality -- it’s a vision, a product of the night.

Her hands on his neck, his hands on her hips — a potent fusion of lust and panic courses through her veins.

He speaks first for once after breaking away from her.

“Jolyne,” he says breathlessly. There’s a tremendous pool of emotion beneath that single word, inaccessible and indecipherable to her.

His eyes are wide, but not with condemnation.

Jolyne can’t bring herself to say anything to defend herself. Thankfully, he speaks up before she can even try to do so.

“If this is what you want.”

She can read between the lines.

If this is the only way I can prove it to you...

His answer disappoints her, and she can’t pinpoint a single reason as to why — there are simply too many.

She tries not to think about it as she tastes the salt of his skin and gives him the only thing she has left for him.

※

After the sin is said and done — well, the world keeps spinning, much to her surprise.

It’s never quite at the same speed it used to be, though. The sky is off-blue; the person she sees when she looks in the mirror is a mere facsimile of who is actually there.

(Who is actually there now?)

※

Jolyne goes home to her mother’s house later that day.

She walks through the front door, and the realization that she can’t remember the walk home crashes down on her like a gelid wave. She shivers.

“Jojo?” her mother calls out from the living room.

She can’t look, and she can’t answer, for try as she might, her mouth has been sewn shut. Her mother seems to interpret her silence as characteristic brooding, however, and sighs.

“I guess your father was being his usual self?”

“Yeah. I guess so,” she replies. “I’m kinda tired. I’m gonna nap.”

“Okay, honey.” Another pause — this time, she can feel her mother’s concerned gaze burning into her. “If your father did anything that upset you, you can tell me, you know. I don’t want you to keep it inside.”

She’d rather say nothing than feed her mother a lie.

※

Her guilt does nothing to ease the overwhelming tide of dopamine that floods her brain when he touches her. It’s a trained response despite her objective horror at her new reality.

Every time Jolyne goes out, she looks at others — girls her age, families of all kinds, little kids on the playground — and the dissonant sensation of abject anomie is enough to make her heart gallop and prompt her to retreat back inside to her house or her father’s place.

She knew what she would be forfeiting for this. She knew the Faustian deal she signed up for.

A father’s love in exchange for everything else.

(As he palms her breast and exhales in ecstasy, she thinks — is this better than nothing at all?)

※

Weekends at Jotaro’s house begin to turn into weekdays and soon stretch into whole weeks. Her mother assumes that their relationship has improved and her worries are consequentially eased.

She isn’t incorrect, in a manner of speaking.

Her father readily acquiesces to her demands now, both outside and inside of the bedroom, and she can’t tell if it’s out of true paternal love or if he’s simply too tired to fight it.

(As she is.)

※

It’s the same Friday night routine as always, with the only difference being that Jotaro has joined her on the loveseat as he grades papers.

(She wonders how he can show up to work every day and not feel like a fraud of a human.)

His hand grips her thigh absentmindedly. A fresh resentful thought comes to the forefront of her frontal lobe: Aren’t good parents supposed to say no when their kids ask for things that are bad for them?

Jolyne scrutinizes him in her peripheral vision.

He’s been by her side this entire time. He is there, flesh and bone, rippling muscle and stony expression; it’s indisputable. Unmistakable.

And yet, after all these years, she still can’t find him.