#bringing back former Inspectors

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

At some point, the technology will get to the point that BTV won’t have to cast new actors to portray past Inspectors.

The corporation will be able to use A.I. to recreate the original actors/actresses and their voices for new scripts.

[vidavalor]

Crowley actually says a barely-coded "I love you" to Aziraphale back in 2.03

In his proposal in the S2 finale, Crowley told us that he and Aziraphale know they're in love and have known it for damn ever but they pretend they're not a couple. This, by default, means that they've not specifically said the words "I love you" before, by Crowley's own admission. They've said I love you in their own little language and we've watched it before. It's little demonic miracle of my own. It's don't go unscrewing the cap. It's just a little bit of a good person and just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing... But what Crowley says in the S2 finale is that they've never-- ever-- said in 6,000 years is just I love you in those normal people, human words. It has always been too dangerous for too many reasons to count so they have euphemisms for it and whole conversations around it and have made that be enough. Why do I bring this up? Because Crowley found a middle ground between the words and their coded language with one another in S2 and it's flying under the radar.

So you know that scene when Muriel has shown up and interrupts Crowley and Aziraphale talking in the back room? The one where while Crowley is speaking, Aziraphale suddenly looks like he's about to pass out with sheer want? Yes, our angel always looks at Crowley like he hung the damn moon (which he did but lol...) but this scene is different. This scene is like... someone get Aziraphale a chair and a glass a water because he is pupils-dilated, audibly breathing, and eyeing up Crowley with naked want. More than the lust? He looks happy. He looks delighted. You can basically hear his heart race from that look on his face. Why here? Yes, Crowley looks hot. Yes, he's in profile in a way that is a visual parallel to Before the Beginning (which was an inspired choice for this scene.) Yes, he's here with a Plan and taking charge of the Muriel situation and swaying his hips a bit while he speaks. It's not any of that. Those are nice bonuses. Aziraphale likes them. He gets them all the time. It's what Crowley said in this moment. To Aziraphale. Through what he said to Muriel.

Crowley cracks a dry, kinda dark joke that is meant for an audience of one: just Aziraphale. He knows Muriel won't get it. Since Muriel is cosplaying as what they think is a human Inspector Constable and they are here to verify the miracle Aziraphale has told Heaven and so are monitoring them, Crowley quips that Muriel is here to spy on them (since they, well, are, actually) and that he knows that many human police officers like to make a bit of a hobby out of spying on "people in love."

People. In. Love.

In a one-two punch in the same sentence, Crowley called him and Aziraphale queer humans and he called what they have love, using the actual word *aloud* for the first time in 6,000 years. He said he loved Aziraphale in front of an angel of Heaven in a little coded joke but this time, using the coded bit to say the real thing for the first time.

Then, just to hammer it all home and make sure that Aziraphale really knows it was very much intentional, Crowley says 'love' again in the next sentence. He starts going on about how Muriel can come to him anytime with any questions about love and he's happy to assist with their understanding of human love with all of his implied vast, vast years of experience with the subject and how he'll be here to answer their questions, in the bookshop, while Aziraphale drives his car to Edinburgh.

Go back and tell Heaven I'm here, Inspector Constable, I don't give a fuck anymore. *We* don't give a fuck anymore. You go tell The Archangel Michael that I'm who they're going to get managing Angelic Embassy X aka The Bookshop until Aziraphale gets back-- yep, me, former Demon of Hell. The Boyfriend in the Dark Sunglasses. He's asked me to, which is his way of saying he wants to stop hiding and asking me not to sneak out to my car in the middle of the night which hallefuckinglujah, Inspector Constable... Go tell Their Beatitudes that we ravish each other all over the bookshop. You won't even be lying. As Maggie'll put it later in the season: I'm done being afraid all the time. I love him. We're in love. There's your hot intel.

Aziraphale:

Aziraphale: Inspector Constable, be a dear and spray me down with all 700 of our fire extinguishers, will you?

[metamatar]

In 1975, civilian nuclear technology was part of a worldwide strategy to bring the Organization of Petroleum-Exporting Countries (OPEC) to heel. That body’s power seemed unprecedented, given that most of its countries were historically impoverished or “backward” peoples. [...]

Many developing countries did adopt nuclear technologies, often with crucial parts of their national infrastructures relying on American and European expertise, equipment, and fuel. Rather than seeing liberation from nature, such countries faced renewed forms of dependence. Iran certainly never gained reliable access to uranium and did not become the economic miracle envisioned by Ansari back in 1975. Instead of lifting up the poorer nations of the world, the global nuclear order seemed structured in ways reminiscent of the colonial era. The most heated debates within the IAEA pitted the nuclear weapons states against the so-called LDCs—less developed countries. The agency never became a storehouse for fission products. Instead, one of its primary functions was to monitor an arms control treaty—the Treaty 4 on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons. By the end of the century, the IAEA was referred to as a “watchdog,” known for its cadre of inspectors. In 2003, IAEA inspections were crucial talking points in public debates about the invasion of Iraq by the United States [...] evidence gathered over the years by the agency created for the peaceful atom was being interpreted by the United States government as justification for military intervention. [...]

Focusing only on arms control glosses over the domestic politics of nuclear programs, particularly the role of high technology as symbols of state power and legitimacy. But it also does not square with what scholars of the Cold War have been pointing out for decades—that governments, especially the United States, deployed science and technology as diplomatic tools, to achieve feats of prestige, to shape business arrangements, to conduct clandestine surveillance, or to bind countries together with technical assistance programs. Poorer countries’ dreams of modernization, of using advanced technology to escape hunger, poverty, and the constraints of nature—these were the stock-in-trade of US diplomacy. Why, then, should we imagine that the promises connected to peaceful uses of atomic energy were any less saturated with geopolitical maneuvers and manipulation? [...]

American officials in the late 1940s and early 1950s were very worried that commercial nuclear power would siphon off supplies of uranium and monazite needed for the weapons arsenal. So they explicitly played down the possibility of electricity generation from atomic energy and instead played up the importance of radioisotopes for medicine and agriculture—because such radioisotopes were byproducts of the US weapons arsenal and did not compete with it. The kinds of technologies promoted in the developing world by the United States, the USSR, and Europeans thus seemed neocolonial, keeping the former colonies as sites of resource extraction—a fact noticed, and resented, by government officials in India, Brazil, and elsewhere. Mutation plant breeding, irradiation for insect control or food sterilization, and radioisotope studies in fertilizer—these were oriented toward food and export commodities and public health, problems indistinguishable from those of the colonial era. These were not the same kinds of technologies embraced by the global North, which focused on electricity generation through nuclear reactors, often as a hedge against the rising political power of petroleum-producing states in the Middle East. By the mid-1960s and 1970s, the United States and Europe did offer nuclear reactors even to some of the most politically volatile nations, as part of an effort to ensure access to oil. Convincing petroleum suppliers of their dire future need for nuclear reactors was part of a strategy to regain geopolitical leverage. Despite the moniker “peaceful atom,” these technologies were often bundled in trade deals with fighter jets, tanks, and other military hardware [...]

By the close of the century, two competing environmental narratives were plainly in use. One was critical of atomic energy, drawing on scientific disputes about the public health effects of radiation, the experience of nuclear accidents such as Three Mile Island (1979) and Chernobyl (1986), or the egregious stories of public health injustice—including negligence in protecting uranium miners or the wanton destruction and contamination of indigenous peoples’ homelands. In contrast was the narrative favored by most governments, depicting nuclear technology in a messianic role, promising not only abundant food, water, and electricity, but also an end to atmospheric pollution and climate change. [...]

As other scholars have noted, the IAEA tried to maintain a reputation of being primarily a technical body, devoid of politics. But it had numerous political uses. For example, it was a forum for intelligence gathering, as routinely noted by American Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) documents. It also outmaneuvered the World Health Organization and Food and Agriculture Organization in the early 1960s and was able to assert an authoritative voice playing down public health dangers from atomic energy. Further, it provided a vehicle for countries to stay engaged in atomic energy affairs even if they did not sign on to the non-proliferation treaty—India, Pakistan, and Israel most notably. It provided apartheid-era South Africa with a means of participating in international affairs when other bodies ousted it because of its blatantly racist policies. By the same token, it gave the Americans and Europeans political cover for continuing to engage with South Africa, an important uranium supplier.

Introduction to The Wretched Atom, Jacob Hamlin

[anneangel]

Javert is as tragic as the title of the book suggests, a miserable.

He may even be the main antagonist, in the sense of opposing the centric character (Jean Valjean), but he is certainly not a villain.

He is obsessed with fulfilling his duty and in a tireless pursuit of justice. He does not believe in Jean Valjean's redemption and his obsession with persecuting him is related to his rigid worldview based on his personal experience and inflexible principles, related to his past, where he was born into a dysfunctional family. He firmly believes in the idea that a bad person is bad forever. He sees his role as Inspector as a fight against crime and injustice.

He doesn't pursue Jean Valjean because he's a villain, he pursues him because he believes Jean is a criminal, who violated his parole, and therefore deserves to be sent back to the prison system.

He was just a man who believed he was doing the right thing, following the law. He believed that people chose to be miserable and that they got what they deserved for choosing to be "vagabonds." He looked at himself and took pleasure in thinking; I came from a dysfunctional home and I still do what is right, so if others don't do it, it's because they don't want to and will never change.

But then he finds himself at a crossroads after Jean Valjean spares his life: "the law says I must arrest this man. But my conscience says I owe him a life debt."

For the first time he contemplates that "law" and "justice" do not always go together. It would be "legal under the law" to arrest Jean, but it would not be "morally just". It's a conflict between legality versus morality.

So poor Javert still faces the deconstruction of his beliefs: “he thought that good and evil were very different things and that an ex-convict could only be bad while a police officer could only be good”, when he realizes that reality not obeys that extreme and that a prisoner can be good (or that it is possible to change and become good), just as a law enforcement officer can become corrupt.

Faced with so many things that he firmly believed falling apart, showing erroneous beliefs of live, he chooses to kill himself rather than live with such unrest. So, basically he commits suicide because he was saved by Jean Valjean, and he couldn't stand that fact.

It really must have been scary to discover that he has spent his life following beliefs that suddenly deteriorate in front of him. It's sad that in the face of this "scare" he chose to kill himself.

The character promotes a very pertinent reflection, and leads us to reconsider the way we look at people who are typically stigmatized by society. Victor Hugo is never trying to say that bad people are good deep down, nothing like that; After all, there is the character Mr. Thénardier to prove this. What he is saying is that we cannot make it an absolute rule that all people who commit crimes were and will be bad forever. Because by establishing that they are, a stigma is created that can be unfair for those who, like Jean, tried to change their lives.

It is also necessary to remember that at no point does Hugo say that Jean Valjen was right in stealing the bread, but rather that the penalty imposed on him was disproportionate to the crime committed. In the end, we read that Javert kills himself because he cannot bear the idea that Jean, an ex-prisoner, can go from darkness to light. While he, by following the law, committed an injustice.

He thinks that Jean, even though he was a former prisoner, managed to go to a place above him morally, while he, who was such an inflexible agent of the law, saw himself as someone tough who didn't understand the factor of redemption as an element capable of rescue the soul of someone who once made a mistake.

Honestly, I like the character and understand the powerful reflection he brings to us. But at the same time, I'm sad that he killed himself. He could have chosen other paths, but ultimately he was so desolate that he saw no other options.

[joannanora]

Rebus unveils first look as BBC acquires reboot of hit crime drama

Outlander's Richard Rankin stars in the new detective drama.

Crime drama fans, the BBC has acquired another surefire hit of a series - and is bringing Rebus to our screens this spring.

The series, which was the first UK drama commission from Viaplay, will air on BBC Scotland, BBC One and iPlayer soon, and is based on the best-selling Inspector Rebus novels by award-winning author Ian Rankin.

Previously announced back in 2023, the show stars Richard Rankin (Outlander) as Detective Sergeant John Rebus.

It is, of course, not the first time that the Rankin novels have been adapted for the small screen, with ITV's Rebus adaptation airing between 2000 and 2007 and starring John Hannah and Ken Stott in the title role.

The new series, however, sees a younger Rebus drawn into "a violent criminal conflict that turns personal when his brother Michael, a former soldier, crosses the line into criminality".

[dmollyc]

Image that Edgar and Isabel often say the lines from "Much Ado about Nothing" just before they kiss. This might shock people who did not see the play or know they are together.

Lady Felicia is thrilled, Flambeau is confused, Sid think Edgar is being insulting til the kiss and now he's confused etc.

Somebody more talented than me want to write this? Even bring back former inspectors.

[tessa-liam]

Smoke and Mirrors

We're Ready For Anything

Chapter 7

Smoke and Mirrors

-7- We're Ready for Anything

Book: The Royal Romance Finale +, Alternate Universe

Series Premise: Hidden in the shadows, poised to challenge the status quo are enemies of the state. The loyalties and honesty of family and friends will be tested. ‘Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.’

Catch Up: Smoke and Mirrors Masterlist

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!MC Riley Brooks-Rys, OTP ‘Liri’

2nd Pairings: Leo Rys x Amalas, Drake Walker x F!OC Delaney Leigh, Olivia Nevrakis x M!OC Alex Cossoy

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except Delaney Leigh, Officer Alex Cossoy, Geoffrey Bessler (Amalas’ head guard.)

Rating: M🔞*Series Warnings: NSFW material, sexual innuendo, adult innuendo, adult language/swearing/drinking, gun violence.

Not Beta'd, please excuse all errors.

Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff

Words: 2274, Read: 10 minutes

Chapter 7: We’re Ready for Anything

Chapter Summary: Liam and Riley find out more about their twins and Lena is captured by Interpol.

Music and Title Inspiration: Ready for Anything, Landon Austin

A/N1: My submission for @choicesflashfics Week #32, Prompt #2 - “Sometimes memories can be the worst form of torture.”

A/N2: My submission for May Choices Monthly Challenge @choiceschallenge-may2023 @jerzwriter @maychallenge prompts - Mother’s Day, holding hands/ crying /caress

King’s Study, Cordonian Palace

It was late into the evening as Liam opened the financial report for Portavira on his computer. Taking note that Duke Ebrim was requesting a sizeable amount of emergency funds for the coastal region in the form of stipends.

Opening his e-mail to respond, a knock on his study door got his attention.

“Come.” Liam called out and continued typing, not taking his focus off the screen.

“Hey, Li. Am I interrupting?” Drake asked hesitantly.

Without looking up, Liam answered, “Drake, hey...what brings you here tonight?”

“Well, I need your advice on something.”

Closing his laptop, Liam stood up and walked to his bar cart, picking up two glasses and a bottle of Macallan.

Liam chuckled, “Why do I think this has something to do with a certain blond in your life?”

“Yeah, well...”

Pouring two glasses of scotch, Liam slid one to Drake and sat back down, taking a sip.

“Delaney wants to visit her parents in Austin....and she wants me to go with her.”

Drake exhaled a breath and Liam grinned.

“So, what’s the problem, Drake? Nervous about meeting your future in-laws?”

Drake shot his friend a look, and Liam roared in laughter.

“Seriously, Drake? This is not a problem, buddy!”

“Yeah, well...the thing is, her parents are pressuring her to move back home to the States. Laney is seriously considering it.”

Shaking his head, “Laney wants me to move back with her.”

Liam looked at his friend, noting the conflict in his expression.

“I don’t want to lose her, Li. I also don’t want to leave Cordonia.”

Queen’s Study, Monterissian Palace

“Geoffrey, do you have the video footage of the arrest from last night taken outside the palace?”

Amalas spoke to her guard through the speakerphone on her desk.

“Not at this time, your majesty. Interpol has not uploaded the file yet to our systems.”

“Wait a second. Pause and rewind...what did you just say?” Leo asked incredulously.

“Your majesty?” Geoffrey asked questionably.

“Leo, its protocol that the Interpol inspectors have access to all palace systems ahead of my Royal guard.” Amalas answered.

“Access, yes, but to commandeer all viewing?” Leo challenged.

“Thank you, Geoffrey, that will be all at this time.” Amalas tapped the app closed and spun around her chair, glaring at Leo.

“What the hell, Ams? You are taking orders from some ‘suit’ in Lyon, France? ….Why?”

“First of all, I don’t care for your tone. Do. Not. Speak. To. Me. Like I don’t run this country! Especially in front of my people.” Amalas countered angrily.

Leo sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. It was a challenge for the former Crown Prince to remember not to interject his personal opinions into conversations with the Monterissian Royal guard.

Amalas is the Queen, and he was overstepping.

“Secondly, I appreciate the expertise and assistance of Interpol.”

Leo sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I am surprised, to say the least. The ‘Spy Queen’ needing help in her own country.”

“And thirdly,” Amalas stood and frowned at Leo. “I am respecting the King of Cordonia’s request for a united front to uncover the truth behind the duplicity of the Royal guard in our countries.”

“Leo, we need to ‘cut the head off’ of this faction. There is someone or something controlling and directing operatives, like Bastien in Cordonia, that has infiltrated our highest security levels in the Royal guard of our countries.”

“Case in point: how a known fugitive can gain access to my private chambers, can pass through my security protocols. Allowed access to the Crown Princess of visiting monarchs, no less.”

“I get it Ams, I really do. ….and I am truly sorry.” Leo sighed and shook his head.

Amalas stood and walked over to Leo. Taking his face in her hands, she kissed his lips sweetly and touched her forehead to his.

Clearing his throat, Geoffrey stood outside the open door and waited to make his presence known.

“Your majesty.”

Amalas turned to look at her head guard. “Yes, Geoffrey?”

“Interpol has successfully captured and detained the security breach.”

Cordonian Palace

It was shortly after 1 am when Liam returned to the south wing of the palace. Loosening his tie, he nodded at Mara as she stood guard outside of Eleanor’s chambers and continued to walk to his personal chamber he shared with Riley.

After preparing for bed, he opened the veranda door and stepped out into the cool night air. Looking out over the gardens, he took a deep breath and smiled. Tomorrow, he and Riley would find out the sex of their twin babies. He grinned thinking about all the possibilities, but if he was being truly honest with himself, he favored having a son. Or...he chuckled, maybe another Ellie.

Shaking his head, he decided to turn in for the night to get some sleep considering the day would bring much excitement for him and his family.

Approaching his side of the king-sized bed, he noticed that Riley’s side of the bed was slept in, but Riley was not in bed.

Liam went to his closet and slid on a pair of sweatpants. After stepping into the hallway, he returned down the hall towards Ellie’s chambers. He quietly opened her bedroom door and entered the darkened room. Beside her canopy bed, the single night light glowed, and he saw his daughter's outline. Wrapped snugly and securely in her mother’s arms, she was fast asleep along with Riley.

As he placed a soft kiss on Ellie’s forehead, Riley awoke and smiled. “Hi”, Riley whispered and touched his hand. After carefully detaching her arms from her daughter, she rose from bed to join her husband in their bedroom.

Liam closed the door behind him, after following Riley.

Joining his wife under the silk sheets, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him.

“That’s better,” nuzzling her neck.

Smiling, Riley ran her fingers through his soft hair. “Working late tonight?”

“Yes, and no... Drake came to see me tonight.”

“Oh really, and here I thought you were avoiding me,” Riley smirked.

“Never!” Liam playfully teased.

“So, what was so important for Drake to pay such a late visit?"

“AHHHH, well...he wanted my advice. Drake is debating whether he should a, stay in Cordonia; or b, move to Delaney's home in Texas. And c, where he should go with his relationship with Delaney.”

Riley looked at her husband, “I know what you said.”

“I know you do, love,” kissing Riley’s nose.

“Home is where your love of your life is. I asked him what his true feelings were for Delaney. Once he can honestly answer that question, he will have his answer.”

Monterrisian Palace

The temperature in the Monterrisian palace holding cell area was at least 10 degrees cooler in the lower-level security offices. Amalas and Leo followed the Interpol officers and were shown to the viewing privacy window. Amalas was accustomed to the temperature change, but Leo had shivers go down his spine; from the temperature change, or nerves, or both.

On the other side of that window, Lena Rys was sitting in a chair alongside a female Royal guard. On the other side of the table sat Alex Cossoy and Olivia Nevrakis.

Amalas listened intently to the questioning, while Leo stared at the blond woman. Shock, mixed with disbelief left him speechless.

“What is your end game?” Olivia asked impatiently

“My end game is to take my place in the Rys family,” Lena coolly answered.

Olivia eyed Lena in disdain.

“My mother told me that my father wanted to hide me from my half-brother. That the ‘Cordonian royal family can’t find out who I really am... for my sake’.”

“’That’s horrible’,” Olivia sighed.

“’I didn’t want to believe those things about my family, but my mother had never lied to me’.”

"Your mother?"

"Yes, Sigrid took care of me in place of my true mother."

“You were brainwashed, she was obviously lying to you!” Olivia seethed.

“’I saw what Cordonia’s royal family really thinks of me when King Constantine came to Vallenheim for a diplomatic visit’.”

“’King Constantine told my mother that he wanted no part in foreign influences on Cordonia. He said that Queen Eleanor is gone. Which is why he wanted nothing to do with me. That Eleanor was her friend, but that association ended when Eleanor died. He does not owe us anything’.”

“My mother wanted me to meet my brothers, but Constantine said ‘he won’t be guilted with a child.’

I remember that my mother begged Constantine to meet me, and Constantine said no. 'My sons and I want nothing to do with me, my mother, Vallenheim, or any of our people!’”

My mother told me, 'This is exactly why Queen Eleanor wanted me kept away from Cordonia.’"

Lena’s eyes 'welled with tears that are equal parts anger and sadness.'

“In that moment, I knew everything my mother had said about my father and brothers was true.”

“Sometimes memories can be the worst form of torture.”

Olivia stood up and paced the floor. Stopping directly in front of Lena,

“’Liam didn’t even know about you. Your brother is a better man than your father was.’”

“’I always resented Leo and Liam for having the life I could’ve had in Cordonia. I’ll even admit to envying Liam’s throne.’”

“’He’s a lot more than you were told. You might even like him if you gave him half a chance.’”

Lena’s features hardened, “’I think that ship sailed a while ago.’”

Dr Rameriz’s office, Cordonia

Looking at her reflection in the changing room, Riley placed her hands on her tummy. Her belly had grown so quickly this time around. Her morning sickness was now gone, and she felt more energized.

Slipping on the hospital gowni and robe, she opened the door to be greeted by the nurse.

“Your majesty”, the nurse curtsied and opened the door to the examination room.

Liam quickly stood offering his wife his hand.

“Are you ready for this, my love?”

“Oh Yes, Liam! Let’s do this!

Chuckling, he helped Riley get comfortable on the exam table, as the nurse placed a heated thermal blanket over top. Grasping his hand, she laid back and relaxed against the pillow.

Dr. Ramirez greeted the monarchs with a warm smile.

“Okay, today we are going to find out which sexes these little ones are.”

“Most definitely,” Liam smiled, squeezing Riley’s hand as she also smiled.

The doctor placed the doppler wand and the sound of heartbeats immediately could be heard.

“I will never tire from hearing those sounds.” Liam watched the monitor as the babies appeared.

Riley let out a breath and started to tear, squeezing Liam’s hand even more.

“So, what do you think, love?” Liam asked.

Riley grinned, “It’s a boy.”

The doctor nodded, “incredibly good instincts. Your majesties, you have a son.”

Liam beamed with joy and kissed his wife.

“...and baby number two?”

“A boy,” Riley answered.

The doctor shook her head smiling.

‘Your wife’s instincts are quite correct. Your children are both boys.”

Liam let out a breath.

Riley, now crying, was overcome with emotion.

“Riley, love,” Liam whispered, raising her hand, and softly kissed her palm.

“Yeah?”

“You did it again.”

Riley looked up at Liam with a question in her eyes.

Caressing her swollen tummy, “You made another dream come true for me. I love you so, so much.”

Riley, full of emotion, answered back, “as do I.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her lips and said, “let’s go home.”

Liam and Riley walked slowly out of the hospital, holding hands, both smiling as they approached the waiting SUV.

“We should spend the weekend in Valtoria.’ Liam smiled.

“I would love that, and I know that Ellie will be ecstatic to go to the festival in town.”

Liam grinned as he followed Riley into the SUV.

Not mentioning that he and Ellie have a special Mother’s Day celebration planned at the estate already for her.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🤎🤎🤎🤎

Thank you for reading!

⚜️Please DM me if you would like to be added or removed from the tags⚜️

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[sashketter]

The Captain and the Senator

Chapter 4 - Project Spycraft

Summary: After learning of Omega’s abduction, Riyo Chuchi and the clones plan a stealth reconnaissance mission into the Imperial Inspectorate HQ for intel on Hemlock’s lab. Once there, Rex and Riyo run into Boil, discover a list of clone deserters, and recruit Admiral Barton Coburn for the Clone Underground.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: One fluffy Rexiyo scene.

Notes: This takes places during Omega’s first stint at Tantiss. I refuse to believe the regs wouldn’t or couldn’t help Hunter and Wrecker search for Omega. I like to think whatever mission Rex and Echo were on that kept them for two rotations had to have been related to her or Tantiss. I might’ve gotten a little carried away tying in other people and places, but I think it works.

Chapter 3 - Table of Contents - Chapter 5

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Senator.”

“This was your idea, Captain.”

Despite Riyo’s best efforts to tailor a Pantoran guard’s uniform to Rex’s measurements, the helmet is still too big for the clone’s head. It falls over his nose as they walk along the First Battle Memorial. Rex pushes it back up in time to nod to an Imperial officer. Following close behind, Riyo wonders if she should have brought along one of her guards after all.

Echo had returned from Ord Mantell several rotations ago with news of Omega’s abduction by a Dr. Royce Hemlock. The clones were divided on next steps. Echo and Gregor wanted to join Hunter and Wrecker on the search. Howzer and Fireball wanted to continue preparing the base on Teth where Nemec and a few others were waiting for more supplies. Samson was loath to leave the base on Pantora unguarded, and Greer felt the base on Orto Plutonia still needed renovations. Rex was torn.

Riyo cast the deciding vote. “Continue with your missions. We cannot begin the search without knowing where to look first. Rex, you and I must call on all our contacts.”

Halle Burtoni was no longer amenable to any contact with Riyo Chuchi, convinced by Rampart’s arrest that she would soon face a similar fate. Imperial officers stonewalled Bail Organa at every turn. Even Senator Mon Mothma offered her help and only reached as far as Finis Valorum’s opinion that any Imperial assets guarded closely enough to trip up the good senator from Alderaan would require the highest-level security clearances. At least Chairman Papanoida managed to point to the Durands for some intel; Echo comm’d Hunter and Wrecker with the tip while the regs continued pulling strings. None of Rex’s contacts within the Empire could turn up anything on a Dr. Hemlock or an Advanced Science Division.

“Would Rampart have had a high enough security clearance?” Riyo looks around the holotable at each clone.

Rex shakes his head. “Yes, but it would’ve been revoked by now.”

“Of course, but what about his computer?” Riyo starts to feel out of her depth, but she continues, “Would the databanks in his office have been wiped?”

“No!” Gregor lands a light punch on the table. “Echo, you said Kamino was evacuated before the bombardment.”

Annoyance crumples Echo’s face. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Could some of the clones from Kamino have been taken to wherever Howzer and the others were heading?” Gregor knows it’s a stretch.

“It’s possible.” Echo rubs his chin. “They haven’t all been accounted for. What does that have to do with Rampart?”

Howzer catches on. “Any information related to Rampart’s arrest can’t be wiped. They’ll be part of Imperial records. That should include the destination for the clones evacuated from Kamino.”

Realization dawns in a wave around the table.

“Internal Affairs might’ve already taken the databanks from Rampart’s office,” Gregor taps at the holotable and brings up a map of the former Republic military base on Coruscant, “but the backups are housed in the building’s central processing grid. If we can get into Rampart’s office, we can access the backup databanks.”

Echo doesn’t like their odds. “Can’t we just connect to any panel at HQ? Or go directly to the building’s central databanks?”

“No,” Rex remembers some quirks in Republic security, “if Chancellor Valorum is right, only the highest-level security clearances will get us in, and those could still be on Rampart’s computer.”

“They’re tied to the office, not the officer?” Fireball wonders why they haven’t stormed HQ yet. “Seems sloppy.”

“For the sake of efficiency,” Nemec’s holographic image ponders, “so that incoming officers can get to work without waiting for the system to update.”

Greer is curious. “Who’s Rampart’s replacement?”

Samson’s ahead of him. “I don’t think he’ll be replaced, which means his computer is probably already gone.”

Rex turns to Riyo. “What about Senate records?” The men fall silent.

The Senator shakes her head. “I tried. Much of Rampart’s arrest has already been locked and classified. By the Emperor, I imagine. The Imperial Inspectorate HQ is our best chance of finding anything on Hemlock’s laboratory if it is still an ongoing project.”

The clones settle into quiet contemplation. They all know Gregor’s hunch is a stretch, but it doesn’t feel beyond the realm of possibility. A top-secret Advanced Science Division could be responsible for the top-secret clone assassin whose identifying number could be erased only by top-secret technologies. Rampart’s deployment of the clone assassin means he likely had access to the Advanced Science Division helmed by Hemlock – a tenuous connection but their best lead so far.

And after everything Howzer and his men had recounted about their time on Balmorra, it was evident that the Empire’s attitudes towards the clones contained two contradictory notions: they were both inconsequential and a threat, treated like disposable debris but deliberately divided from each other. Everyone in the galaxy knew what the Jedi-influenced Republic troopers were capable of doing when they worked together, so separating and isolating them between several facilities, between prisons and science divisions, was a logical strategy.

“We have to try.” Riyo breaks the silence. “For Omega.”

The men nod at each other and begin.

“Rex, can you get us some stormtrooper gear?”

The Captain hits the brakes. “Negative.”

The men share confused looks. Echo swings his arms out, gesturing to the makeshift command deck on the top floor of a “community center,” and counters, “You can get all this equipment, but not—”

“The Imperial Command Center isn’t a transport ship or a planet on the Outer Rim,” Rex explains. “It’s the head of military operations in the heart of the Empire. Checkpoints in each section require codes that change multiple times a day.” He punches a few buttons on the holotable and highlights on the map dozens of checkpoints manned by armed troopers, metal sensors, and bioscanners.

“What, you can’t get the codes?” Gregor ribs the Captain. In another lifetime, the commando would’ve recruited CT-7567 for his squad.

Rex smirks. “I’m good, but I’m not that good. Why doesn’t the commando have a crack at it?”

Gregor laughs. “You can’t get rid of me that easy, Rex, old boy. I intend to—”

“I was able to get in with one of my guards.” Ever soft and light, Riyo’s voice commands the men’s attentions. “I had a meeting with Rampart to discuss provisions for…” She trails off, ashamed, and casts her eyes down. Rex rests a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and she covers his hand with hers.

He picks up her lead. “Echo, can you schedule an appointment for the Senator?”

“Without alerting them? Depends on the officer.”

Rex nods. “I know just the one.”

Echo had insisted that he be the one to accompany Riyo into the Imperial Command Center, nearly coming to blows with Rex, but his scomp was difficult to disguise. Howzer had returned to Teth, and Gregor and Fireball left to liberate another clone prisoner transport, leaving Rex as the Senator’s sole accomplice. He wasn’t as adept with computers as Echo or Nemec, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve to bypass some security. As a precaution, he rigged a comlink into the Pantoran helmet and kept an encrypted line open to Echo who hid in the back of Riyo’s senatorial speeder. All Riyo had to do was walk to Rampart’s office.

“She’ll be safe,” Rex assures Filip in the Senator’s office at Pantoran City. They were scheduled to leave for Coruscant in half a rotation.

“I’m more worried about you.” Filip turns his tall helmet over in Rex’s hands. “You don’t exactly look Pantoran.”

Rex smirks and tries on the guard’s helmet. “You don’t recruit off-worlders?”

“Perhaps they should,” Riyo chimes in, holding out a hanger with a Pantoran guard’s uniform. “I did my best, but Filip has a point. Perhaps we should paint—”

“I’m not doing blue face, Senator.” He sets the helmet down on the coffee table and stands to take the uniform. He knows he doesn’t look Pantoran enough to pass as one of Riyo’s guards, but none of the guards the clones spoke to felt up to the task of successfully navigating Imperial security, much less committing treason.

“I wouldn’t be offended, Rex. Just the lower half of your face, the only part of you that is not covered.”

Rex looks to Filip for support, but the guard simply shrugs. “Whatever it takes, Captain. You know more about Imperial systems than any of us.”

The clone turns towards the adjoining fresher where he changes into the custom uniform. Rex is no stranger to disguises, but for a moment, as he adjusts the cape around his shoulders through his reflection above the sink, he wonders what his life would be like protecting the Senator or the Chairman as an official guard. He’s surprised to find that the idea doesn’t turn him off.

Filip wolf whistles and salutes when Rex returns in full regalia. “Looks good!”

Riyo sits on the sofa, an open tin of blue stage paint in her lap and a brush in her hand. She gestures for Rex to sit next to her and smiles when she gets a closer look at her handiwork. She could have had her own seamstress or a droid make the alterations, but in the interests of total secrecy, she spent two rotations poking Rex with pins and hunched over a sewing machine. She pinches his collar where the ornamental tassel hangs, smoothing it down his chest while unaware of her guard’s watchful surprise. Rex smirks at her pride, and Riyo smiles back. Filip makes a mental note to leave them alone more often.

“A little short for a Pantoran guard,” Filip interrupts.

Rex huffs as Riyo crooks a finger under his chin to expose his neck to the window’s light. “Nothing I can do there, Fil.”

Riyo swirls her brush around in the tin and starts at Rex’s Adam’s apple. “Your brother is the same height as the good captain, Filip, and no one in the Assembly thinks less of him because of it.”

“Speak for yourself, Senator. He is my little brother, after all.” Filip smiles and leaves to return to his post just outside the double doors.

Riyo continues in silence, quickly covering Rex’s neck and jaw. He tilts his chin down when she reaches his cheeks. She senses him tense up and tries to calm him.

“I would’ve thought you liked blue.” She smiles and catches surprise in his eyes.

Rex clears his throat. “Uh, well, I like it better on you.”

Riyo’s eyebrows shoot up. “I meant because of your armor.” She tries to hide her smile and focus on the last stretches of his tan skin left. “But thank you, Rex.” She catches his lips turn into a smirk as he squeezes her thigh. She bites her bottom lip to stifle her squeal.

Rex wonders if he’s turning as purple as she is.

~~~

Rex straightens his posture and balances the Pantoran helmet on the crown of his head as they enter the Imperial Inspectorate HQ. Not much had changed in the way it looked, but to the Captain of the 501st, the absence of the clones’ customized colors changed everything. Nondescript troopers roamed the atrium in squads or platoons. He counts only a handful of the clones’ helmets. Rex finds it easier to suppress the urge to nod or salute with the balancing act on his head. Two troopers man the front desk, one in front of and the other behind it.

The one in front steps forward, holding his rifle across his chest. “State your business.”

Riyo steps next to Rex who stands at attention. “I have a meeting with Admiral Barton Coburn.”

Keys clack behind the desk while Rex takes in all points of in- and egress in his peripheral vision. He knows to avoid the main entrance if he and Riyo need to make a quick escape.

The trooper behind the desk speaks up. “TK-3094, escort the Senator to Admiral Coburn’s office.”

Riyo raises a hand. “Thank you, but I can find my way.”

TK-3094 stands unmoving in front of her. “Standard procedure, Senator.”

Rex’s fists tighten behind his back. He knows this was not standard operating procedure when it was the Republic Center for Military Operations. He hopes his knowledge of the building’s security systems are still reliable.

“And have your guard leave his weapon here.”

“As I recall, trooper,” Riyo moves past TK-3094 towards the desk, “that was not standard procedure when I was last here. What’s one firearm to a building of battalions? And my guards are bound by Pantoran decree to remain armed in my presence. They are not subject to Imperial whims.”

Riyo squares her shoulders and hopes she hasn’t flexed her command too far. She turns towards Rex who faces his own silent standoff with TK-3094. She’s glad his visor hides his gaze, though she spies his lips twitch into a smirk. Whether at her bravado or the unmoving TK trooper, she wasn’t sure, but she hopes he’ll remain silent or risk undermining her own words.

“For now,” warns the voice behind the desk. Riyo whips around with a stern look before the trooper waves his hand. “Very well. On your way.”

TK-3094 walks ahead of Rex and Riyo, brandishing his security pass at each checkpoint, as they make several turns down several corridors. In his helmet, Rex hears Echo growl, “Get rid of him.” Riyo hears the faint grumble and looks up into Rex’s helmet. He shakes his head imperceptibly. Two more turns will bring them past Rampart’s office. Riyo looks around for a distraction in the empty hallway. To her surprise, it comes from behind.

“Senator Chuchi, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

The three turn around to face an Imperial officer. He’s just far enough to obscure his name tag, but Riyo recognizes his rank.

“Admiral, I—”

“You’re early.” He extends a welcoming hand on her arm. She spies his name and looks up in relief. He turns to TK-3094. “You’re dismissed.”

Rex and Riyo continue down the hall with Admiral Coburn who waits for the TK trooper to turn the corner before addressing them. They walk side by the side, the men flanking Riyo.

“Senator, I must commend you for your defense of clone rights on the Senate floor.” Coburn walks at attention, hands folded behind his back. “Many still serve under my command, and they took your impassioned speech to heart. Know that you are not alone in believing the clones deserve more than what the Empire is willing to give them.”

“Thank you, Admiral. It is always reassuring to know whom one’s allies are.”

“Indeed.” Without pause, Coburn asks, “What’s your name, trooper?” The Admiral was a shrewd man. He would recognize a clone anywhere.

“Rex, sir,” without breaking stride, “it’s good to see you.”

Coburn turns his head halfway in Rex’s direction. “Captain? I— records said you were killed in action.”

“Yes, sir, en route to Coruscant from the Siege of Mandalore.”

“How did you survive?”

“I had help.”

They turn a corner and wait for a pair of troopers to pass before continuing.

“It is not safe for you to be here, Captain,” Coburn warns under his breath. “If the Empire finds out you’re alive, you will be branded a deserter and hunted down. You must leave. What were you two thinking?”

Riyo speaks slightly above a whisper. “We need your help, Admiral. A friend of mine was taken by an Imperial scientist named Dr. Royce Hemlock. We only wish to locate her.”

“I’ve never heard of a Hemlock.” Coburn doesn’t hide his agitation. “What did your friend do to warrant her capture?”

“Nothing, Admiral,” Rex grumbles. “I bet you won’t even find an arrest warrant for her in the system.”

Coburn stops and looks down. He groans, “I am sure you are right.”

Rex and Riyo turn to face him. Their fears of more Imperial officers acting with impunity are confirmed in the Admiral’s sighs and sagging shoulders. They look around and find Coburn’s office two doors down. Hope blooms in the empty hallway.

“You could’ve turned me in, Admiral.” Rex tests him. “But you brought us to your office. This is why we scheduled a meeting with you.”

Coburn looks up and meets Rex’s determination. “What do you need, Captain?”

They hurry into the Admiral’s office. Coburn and Riyo head for the desk while Rex keeps his ear to the door, blaster in hand. He shifts his head inside the oversized helmet to whisper into the comlink.

“Mako-2, still there?”

“Copy, Mako-1. I’m patched into the building’s comm channel. So far, so good.”

“Signal when the hallway is clear. We’ll wait to leave until then.”

“Copy that.”

Rex turns and nods to Riyo who stands behind Coburn sitting at his desk.

The Admiral taps at his console and lights up the screen. “What are we looking for?”

Riyo whispers, “Anything pertaining to Vice Admiral Edmon Rampart and his operations on Kamino.”

Keys clack as Coburn scoffs, “I never did like him.” The Admiral remembers Rampart’s identifying number and heads straight to his profile. The screen flashes an error message.

“Oh, no.” Riyo stares in shock. She realizes the locked documents in the Senate records were a placeholder.

Coburn is more determined. “That’s odd. Let me do a general search.”

Error message.

“Rex!” Riyo is wide-eyed and breathless as she turns towards the door. “They wiped him completely. There’s no record of Rampart in the Imperial system.”

Coburn continues clacking. “Only his arrest and his current location at a labor camp.”

“But no record of his service?” Rex takes a step towards the desk. “Any of his projects?” He wonders how much more the Empire is willing to erase and cover up.

“Not here at HQ.” The Admiral types furiously at his terminal, eyes fused to the screen. “Maintenance logs indicate his databanks were moved immediately after his arrest.”

Riyo wonders why. “Where?”

“It doesn’t say.”

Riyo still wonders why. “Are you sure they weren’t destroyed?”

“They appear on the manifest of a transport ship headed to…” Coburn trails off as he meets dozens of redacted lines.

“Scarif?”

Riyo turns from Coburn’s screen to Rex at the door. “It’s been classified. Why do you say—”

“I have a contact who works construction there. They’re not sure what they’re building, but he said they’re receiving tons of databanks every day.”

“Where’s Scarif?” She hopes it’s close enough to Pantora that they can resupply and make the journey before she’s called back to the Senate in a few rotations.

“In the Abrion sector, close to Kamino.” Rex had never been, but he knows if the Empire is building something top-secret on the Outer Rim, it can’t be good.

“Is it dangerous?” It’s a question Riyo asks Rex before every mission, but today, she’s curious more for herself than the clones. She had never asked to be a part of their missions, well-aware that her skillset was better suited to the Senate than the field, but now she wonders if the Captain will continue to let and help her expand her expertise.

Rex smirks. “More dangerous than the center of Imperial military operations?” He’s unaware of Riyo’s ambitions to join the clones on more of their missions, assuming instead that the Senator, as always, is worried about their safety.

Coburn butts in. “There’s something else. Communications to and from Rampart’s office.”

Riyo looks over the Admiral’s shoulder and finds—

“A list of clone numbers? Transmitted to… where?” She starts reading off, “CT-3947, CT-0569, CC-2224—”

“Wait!” Rex is already halfway to the desk. “Repeat that last one.”

“CC-2224. Did you know him?”

Rex peers over Riyo and tilts his helmet up and away from his eyes. “What is this?”

“There are dates next to each CT number and ‘AWOL.’” Riyo looks up in shock. “Rex, these clones are all deserters.”

Rex reaches over Coburn’s hands, punches a key, and brings the printer to life. “How long’s the list?”

Coburn looks up and shakes his head. “Captain, it’s–”

“Mako-1!” Echo cuts through in Rex’s helmet. “Two squads inbound. No alarm’s been tripped. Something’s up.”

“We have to go.” Rex grabs the paper that’s already out of the printer and stuffs it flat against his chest inside his uniform. “We got two squads headed our way.”

Coburn shuts off his terminal, sending the room into darkness. “Senator, over there.” He points to one of two chairs in front of his desk. “Captain, at attention next to the door. Follow my lead.”

Rex flicks the switch to turn the lights on. Coburn smooths his uniform as he walks around the desk and perches on the corner closest to Riyo. The sound of the squads’ radio chatter announces their arrival before they enter.

A knock prompts Coburn to answer, “Come in.”

The door swings open, and Rex meets the unmistakable visor of a clone trooper. His markings had been painted over grey, but the silhouette of a hawkbat on the left side of his helmet gives him away. Boil. He aims his rifle between Coburn and Riyo.

“Admiral, please step outside.” Boil lowers his weapon.

“Gladly, Sergeant. The Senator and I were just finishing.”

Boil extends a downward palm in Riyo’s direction. “Remain seated, Senator.”

Coburn stops in his steps. “What is the meaning of this?”

“This meeting was never registered with the Senate.”

Rex hears Echo curse in his left ear. The Corporal had only fixed the Imperial Inspectorate’s books and forgotten that appointments were made through Senate channels. “Stand by, Mako-1.”

Riyo stands, her face and voice immovable. “I did not think a visit with an old friend required Senate approval.”

Boil wasn’t having it. “Right,” he stretches the word two syllables longer, “but you registered it in the Imperial Inspectorate’s logbook and only our logbook.”

“Sergeant, this is nothing more than a clerical error.” Coburn puts a hand on the clone’s spaulder. “I can assure you the Senator and I were merely discussing—”

“You can discuss it with Internal Affairs.” Boil brushes off Coburn’s hand. “Both of you, come with me.”

“Sergeant, I must protest.” Riyo stands her ground. “As a member of the Imperial Senate, I am under no obligation…”

The rest is muted by the blood beating in Rex’s ears. He only knows that his hand is on his blaster, his eyes on Boil’s rifle slowly inching up to point towards Riyo. Before he can wrap a finger on his trigger, Echo chimes in. “Fixed.”

Rex stands back at attention and curtly tucks his chin in. Coburn catches the half nod.

“Check again, Sergeant.” The Admiral moves back to his desk and turns his console on. “The Senate’s systems aren’t as up-to-date as ours. Sometimes they don’t sync properly.” He taps at keys quickly.

“Admiral, stand down. You are ordered to—”

“Sergeant, I order you to stand down and look at the screen!”

While Echo was stationed in the back of the Senator’s speeder parked outside HQ, Riyo’s usual guards were on standby in her office where she would rendezvous with them for the return trip to Pantora. Echo comm’d Roland and Tival with instructions to make an appointment through one of Riyo’s aide’s terminals and cover up the time delay in the Senate’s system.

Boil looks down at Coburn’s console. His helmet hides his reaction, but Rex can hear the low hmm of a clone trooper processing new information. He’d heard it enough times to know that whatever Echo did had worked.

Still looking down at the screen, Boil punches a key and orders the troopers outside the door. “Stand down.” He looks up at Coburn. “Apologies, Admiral. It seems you were right about the delay between HQ and the Senate’s systems.”

“Good day, Sergeant.” Coburn was done with pleasantries and wanted only to be rid of Boil and his troopers. He fixes his face into a cold glare.

The squads retreat further down the hallway. Boil reaches the open door and turns to face the right side of Rex’s helmet. “Funny how a senator’s appointment appears first in our system before her own.” His visor turns slightly over his shoulder in Riyo’s direction.

“Curious, indeed.” She follows the Admiral’s lead. “Good day, Sergeant.”

Rex remains motionless, his back to the wall. He knows Boil is on to them, but for some reason, does no more.

“Whatever you’re doing, trooper,” Boil rumbles low enough for only Rex to hear, “don’t.”

Rex can’t decide if it’s a warning or a threat. Boil decides for him.

“Tun s’oko fendoon circaa, nerra.”

Rex doesn’t understand most of it, but he recognizes nerra. Between Waxer’s stories of Numa and Howzer’s constant cursing in Twi’leki, he understands “brother.” He understands Boil’s show of force in a superior’s office and his failure to arrest him. Rex turns his helmet enough to catch Boil nod. He returns the gesture and watches his nerra close the door.

Coburn and Riyo release the breaths they’d been holding and sit down. They don’t understand the exchange, but they know it was significant.

Echo interrupts the silence. “Mako-1, did he just say—”

“Yeah. It was Boil.”

“Will he—”

“No.” Rex takes a deep breath and finally moves. “We should go.”

Rex opens the door and swivels his head towards both ends of the hallway. Coburn and Riyo gather behind him. “Lead the way, Admiral.”

“Back the way you came.” Coburn steps into the hall, with Rex and Riyo close behind. “The front desk will be expecting you.”

“With more squads in the atrium.” Rex reaches for his blaster.

Coburn catches the movement. “Stand down, Captain. I’ll walk you out.”

Once again, Riyo is flanked by the men. “We can’t thank you enough for your help, Admiral. Rex spoke highly of you before, and I see now he was being modest.” She reaches a hand to Coburn’s shoulder. “You’re a good man.”

Two turns around two corners and two long corridors will bring them within sight of the main entrance. As they continue, Coburn lays a hand on Riyo’s back.

“Thank you, both of you. It’s reassuring to know there are still good people doing good work in the galaxy.”

Rex whispers, “We may need your help again in the future, Admiral.”

“And you shall have it, Captain. The Empire is not the Republic, and I am afraid we are doing more harm than good.”

“We can change that.” Rex lowers his whisper as the atrium comes in sight.

“‘We?’ You, me, and the Senator?” Coburn scoffs. “We’re vastly outnumbered.”

“Perhaps.” Riyo reaches for Rex’s hand. “But it’s not just us.”

(Footnotes here.)

[omgkatsudonplease]

AITA for telling a former friend that the person he fancied has moved on?

My friends Weasel, Otter, Ferret, (15M, 15M, 15M) and I (16F) have been friends since our second year. Or, to be more precise, when I first entered this school, Ferret and I were friends for 2 months before I found out he was trying to bring me into a cult, so I left him for Weasel and Otter. Then in our second year, Ferret joined the three of us in order to help investigate some attacks on our classmates. We've had our issues, mostly me-Weasel-Otter against Ferret, but then Otter and Ferret started developing feelings for each other at the end of last year and going into this year.

Anyway, after I wrote an expose about a Ministerial candidate that happened to be related to Ferret, he got mad at the three of us, which I think was unfair since I didn't involve Weasel or Otter in the expose at all. He then reported me writing the expose to this school inspector (??F) and I'm pretty sure he's joined her snitch squad. I got mad at him and I told him that Otter had moved on from him. Which he had, I mean, I think he's now seeing some girl because Weasel has mentioned him coming back to our dormitory at five in the morning.

Ferret got upset and told me to go fuck myself, but I think he deserved to hear the truth because he snitched on me.

For more INFO, please see AO3!

[aziraphales-library]

Hello 🙂

I've got a very specific request please. Do you know of any AUs where Crowley and/or Aziraphale (or one of the other characters, if it's a different ship) are what could be described as "rednecks" (apologies for the term) and/or the fic is set it rural America? I know of "Long Haul", but are there any others?

Thanks in advance!

Hi! I'm not familiar with the USA, so not exactly sure what counts as 'rural America'. Here are some fics set in the US and are very strongly rooted in their location...

Adorable (isn't so bad, when you get used to it) by JoyAndOtherStories (G)

A slice-of-life human AU set in the US Midwest. Aziraphale and Crowley are heading to the farm owned by their long-time friends Anathema and Newt to help them celebrate their newest addition (a new cow paddock). There are a few surprises in store, but all good ones, even for professionally-grumpy Crowley.

H.O.L.Y. (High On Loving You) by Most_Loved_Tragedy (E)

Aziraphale Fell is escaping his abusive partner Gabriel Strong. He has no friends and no family to turn to as his parents died 11 years ago, which led to his moving to the US from London. His last ten years have been ruled by Gabriel who kept him cut off from the rest of the world.

While on the run, he misses his bus and ends up in the middle of nowhere USA. A kind person talks their cousin Crowley into offering Aziraphale shelter in a spare home he has for rent.

Aziraphale learns that even if you've lost one family, you can always find another.

Town Meets Country by Angel_of_the_Dawn (M)

Former preacher Azira Fell moves to a small rural town to work as a librarian and meets Anthony Crowley, former drifter turned farmer. Crowley helps Azira come to terms with his past and face the future.

Under Construction by summerofspock (E)

Crowley has one goal: sell the run-down lodge in the Cascades that his uncle left him in his will.

He doesn't expect to meet someone like Aziraphale, the kind handyman working on his uncle's property who turns out to be more of an enigma than Crowley first thought.

The False and the Fair by Princip1914 (E)

Growing up in the shadow of West Virginia’s Eden Mountain, Aziraphale Wright always expected to work for the family coal mining company. Anthony Crowley, the son of a down-and-out miner, was going to become a pilot and leave town forever. Now, thirty years later, neither of their lives have gone as planned, and an unexpected inheritance brings them back into one another’s orbit. Aziraphale hopes that they can move beyond their shared past, and a high school arrangement that ended in disaster, but he has secrets of his own that threaten their fragile reconnection…

Old Vines by sevdrag (E)

A.Z. Fell, one of the most respected names in wine and food blogging, has been sent on assignment with his assistant Warlock Dowling to spend six months in California Wine Country. Under direction (by his boss, Gabriel) to use this experience to double his blog followers and write a novel, Aziraphale is both excited and anxious about the opportunity.

Anthony J. Crowley is the owner and viticulturalist of Ecdyses, a winery that unexpectedly fell into his lap eleven years ago when he hit rock bottom. He may be in debt, yeah, but he’s paying off his loans — and despite pressure from his lenders and their team of inspectors, Crowley has found a kind of contentment tending his little corner of terroir and producing extraordinary wine. Crowley’s old vines are the heart of his vineyard, and he’s never let anyone in.

Crowley finds Aziraphale intriguing; Aziraphale finds Crowley enthralling. Turns out a famous wine expert and an experienced viticulturalist can still learn things from each other. The summer of 2019 unfolds.

And the one you mentioned...

Long Haul by snae_b (E)

First time he sees him he’s barreling down 40 like a bat out of hell. Thirty miles outside of Flagstaff and six hours behind schedule. The desert looming large on all sides. Red sand and sage stretching out for miles and miles in front of him. Juniper and pine and gray crag behind him. The flora might be changing but that's about it. Same bone-dry air that gives him nosebleeds. Same cute little cottontails and scrawny jackrabbits darting under his tires. Same two lanes separated by white lines... He checks his speedometer. He hasn't downshifted since the city limits. Sheer luck, that. He's coming up fast on another rig. Flatbed with Vermont plates. Bright white cab with gold wings painted on the side.  

Anthony Crowley might have gotten out of Missouri, but he hasn't escaped his past. He wears it like a cloak. When he crosses paths with a guardian angel, he starts to learn how to shed it.

- Mod D

[pearlsephoni]

To Paint a (Still) Life

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: T

Fandom: Psycho-Pass

Pairing: Gen

Characters: Tomomi Masaoka, Nobuchika Ginoza, Akane Tsunemori

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: In a world that grows bleaker with every passing year, Masaoka does what he can to immortalize the little joys.

A/N: This was written for In Time: A Psycho-Pass 10th Anniversary Tribute zine. It was such an honor to be included amongst so many incredible creators in this tribute to an incredible series! Thank you to the mods @/temporarilyunstable and @/shikkokans for organizing everything! The zine site went live on November 12, 2022, and this fic was originally published on AO3 on June 26th, 2023. Further author's notes can be found on AO3.

———

Every good still life must first have a subject.

The flowers on the bedside table were starting to wilt, the edges of their petals turning brown and brittle despite the still-vibrant colors clinging to the rest of the satiny surface. Masaoka let his fingers brush the dry edges, a wry smile curving his lips.

“I’ll have to remember to bring you new ones next time, hm?” he asked.

He received no response, nor did he expect one. These visits usually found him speaking into the air, his words falling on unhearing ears.

But still, he came. There was no fixing their family now, he knew that, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do…something to ease the damage. And he wasn’t the only one.

“I wonder where Nobuchika found these tulips,” he mused, his fingers wandering back to the red petals. “They’re awfully pretty. I’m glad he still appreciates beauty in the little things.”

A soft sigh came from the wheelchair parked at the large window. The sound drew Masaoka to its side, where he took a look at his wife’s—former wife’s, he corrected himself sullenly—blank features. To his surprise, there was an almost-imperceptible upward curve to the very edges of her lips. The small difference was enough to bring some light to her face, and for a single bittersweet moment, she looked like the vibrant woman he had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“You always did love red flowers,” he murmured, unable to resist the urge to brush a wayward strand of hair back behind her ear. “I never would’ve expected him to remember. Our son is more thoughtful than he likes to let on.”

Another soft sigh, and the feeling of her leaning just the slightest bit into his gentle fingers. “He got that from you, Sae.” There was a hitch to his voice, almost imperceptible to his own ears, but the sight of her thumb tracing a small curve along the back of her clasped hands told him she’d heard.

His eyes wandered from her gentle features back to the flowers, the source of her quiet joy. Perhaps he should immortalize them somehow.

———

Draw your chosen objects onto a canvas, taking care to get their shapes accurate.

“Ah, Ginoza.” Masaoka tried and failed to keep his surprise out of his voice. He had more success in biting back the smile that nearly rose to his lips at the sight of Ginoza’s mouth twisting. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“No honor, just news.” Ginoza’s green eyes flickered over his shoulder before snapping back to him. “Well? Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

That was more like it. Masaoka never knew what to do with the brief glimpses he caught of his son’s deep-buried insecurity, and the quiet manners it brought out. This, though, this show of superiority and power that he’d put on ever since he entered the PSB as an Inspector, was something Masaoka was much more familiar with. “Of course. Come in.”

He didn’t wait for Ginoza to step in, simply left the door open behind him as he made his way back to the windows, where he’d set up a new canvas and his sketching pencils in front of a chair. He sat just as he heard the door clicking shut and Ginoza following him. “Well then,” he said as he took his pencil back up, “what is this important news?”

Silence fell where he’d expected a curt answer. He looked over his shoulder, and found Ginoza staring at the photo of Sae’s flowers that Masaoka had taken and was now projecting from his communicator. “…Ginoza?”

“Ah.” Ginoza blinked as though he’d been dragged out of a dream. Masaoka could easily read the way he shoved his glasses back up his nose, knew that it was a way to stall, but he didn’t say anything. He simply turned back to his canvas, and sketched.

“…Our division has been issued a new Inspector,” Ginoza finally announced. “She will be starting in a month, after she has completed her pre-work training.”

“I see.” Masaoka finished sketching out the petals of the second tulip. “And have the other enforcers received this news?”

“That’s none of your concern.” Ginoza’s voice sounded tight, and Masaoka almost felt bad about his gentle teasing. “What matters is that you will all know when she gets here, and you will all treat her with the respect that a superior deserves. I’ll have enough on my hands showing her the ropes as the only other Inspector. I don’t need to worry about your basic manners.”

With his face safely turned to his canvas, Masaoka finally let a small grin pull at his lips. “Understood, Inspector.”

“…Good.” Another beat of silence, then the sound of business shoes clicking back to the door.

“I’m sure she’ll be an excellent Inspector,” Masaoka suddenly spoke up, just before Ginoza reached the door, “especially under your instruction. You don’t have anything to worry about, Nobuchika.”

“I don’t need an Enforcer to tell me how to feel about this,” Ginoza bit out, “I know I’m capable of doing my job.”

That was about the response Masaoka expected to get. What he didn’t expect was the soft, “…I’ll see you Tuesday,” that came right before his door opened and closed.

His small grin broadened into a smile as he sketched out the smaller branches of leaves. “You’re welcome, kiddo.”

———

Paint in the base colors, working from the darkest colors to the palest.

Akane Tsunemori proved to be a little bundle of contradictions. Where Masaoka had expected a no-nonsense Inspector, he saw the walking embodiment of nerves and an eagerness to please. Where he anticipated her to crumble under the pressure of having such a gruesome first case, she instead stuck to her morals and shot down their most intimidating Enforcer. And where he expected her to flee the PSB after a hellish first day, she instead dug her heels in and worked to adapt. And she did so remarkably well. He just wished that didn’t include her stubborn attempts to understand one Shinya Kogami.

It was unnerving how much she reminded him of both Kogami and Ginoza when they first began working as Inspectors. She was determined to make a difference, wanted her work to be for the greater good, and not just the preservation of Sibyl. And just like before, Masaoka could already see the signs of their work hardening Akane’s skin like armor.

But there was something else. She wasn’t becoming tough to the core. Somehow, she still held on to her sense of justice, still wanted to believe in the inherent good of both the people and the system she worked to protect. Her determined optimism was achingly familiar to Masaoka—he remembered seeing it light up his son’s eyes when he was first assigned to the PSB, remembered seeing it flicker behind Kogami’s smile back when he was still an Inspector…remembered feeling it burn hot in his own chest when he was still a detective with a happy wife and a newborn son.

It never lasted long, not in this line of work, and especially not with Sibyl breathing down their necks. He knew it was only a matter of time before it faded from Akane as well. And yet…he still found himself wanting to protect it—protect her—for as long as he possibly could. If that meant discouraging her from lingering too long on her fascination with Kogami, then so be it. He’d seen first-hand the way Kogami’s dangerous mix of charisma, intelligence, and focus could tempt those around him into the same destructive habits.

“If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you,” he told her, only to earn furrowed brows and a small frown in response. Ah, he realized, she really is cut from the same cloth. It didn’t matter what he said to her—she’d already made up her mind. Her wide eyes and gentle voice couldn’t hide her fierce curiosity and immoveable stubbornness.

Well…if he couldn’t convince her to protect herself, maybe he could find some way to keep her safe himself.

———

Add details to the foreground and background, deepen the shadows to add more depth. This will help your subject stand out.

The door shut behind him with a soft click. Just like that, he was alone, isolated in his own home—or, cell…he really couldn’t tell the difference anymore—and left with no distractions from the mess he’d just made.

He’d thought he was so much older and wiser, thought that he had left behind the wide-eyed idyllicism that had drawn him to this god-forsaken career. But here he was, down one pistol and one set of keys to his safe house. He had just sent Kogami on what was essentially a suicide mission, and now he would have to face Tsunemori and Nobuchika and all the others, and watch them figure out what he’d done.

He knew giving Kogami a gun and refuge was a mistake. He knew it. And yet…he couldn’t find it in himself to feel any regret. The fool was always going to pursue Makishima, no matter the personal cost. At least Masaoka could tell himself he’d done what he could to lessen that cost, just a bit.

His eyes burned with exhaustion and his stomach burned with bourbon, but he didn’t move towards his bedroom. He instead found himself wandering into the moonlit living room, flicking on a lamp on his journey to the easel that was still set up by the windows. There was no way he was going to sleep. He might as well get some other work done while he could.

———

At last, you can add the final details to your piece, such as brighter highlights. But be careful—less is more.

“Thank you for helping me with this.”

“Of course, Ginoza-san.” Akane was growing used to the grief that had settled in her chest like a rock. It felt like her days were a never-ending parade of sorting through the things her loved ones had left behind—Kagari’s vintage tech collection, Kogami’s books, and now, whatever secret interest Masaoka had stashed away.

And yet, for all that she was getting “used to” the process, she still felt her eyes sting when she stepped into Masaoka’s old living quarters and breathed in the familiar scent of bourbon and paints. She could see the effects of being surrounded by his father’s presence weighing on Ginoza, and no amount of wry grins could keep her from noticing his curved-in shoulders.

“No need to use ‘-san’ with me,” he chuckled as he led her further into the salon. “You’re the superior, now.”

“I still learned everything about this job from you.”

“Not just me.”

The quiet words pulled her eyes from wandering around the room back to Ginoza. He was standing by a covered easel near the window, holding up one edge of the fabric to peer at the painting underneath with a small, sad smile. “He never finished.”

“Finished what?”

“This.” It was surprising, seeing how carefully Ginoza unveiled the painting, but not as surprising as what awaited underneath. Akane’s breath caught in her throat—she...she knew that painting. She could distantly remember watching Masaoka lay down the base colors so many months ago.

And the strangest thing was, it looked finished to her. The vase looked almost real from how detailed the reflections were, and the flowers looked like they could bloom straight from the canvas. “It looks done to me.”

“It’s not. The flowers, they…they look too alive. They were starting to go brown at the edges when he started painting them.”

“How do you—?”

“I gave these flowers to my mother. He must have taken a photo of them and painted them to let her enjoy them forever.” Something around his eyes hardened, and his fingers tightened in the fabric he was still holding. “He…he had plans and projects and now—”

His voice broke. The next thing Akane knew, the fabric was fluttering to the ground as Ginoza pressed his hands to his eyes, shoulders drawn up tight around his ears.

Akane had never seen anyone in the PSB cry. In fact, the last person she’d seen cry was Kaori at Yuki’s funeral. So she did what she’d done for Kaori: she stepped up to Ginoza, gently wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and didn’t let go, not even when she felt him stiffen. “Don’t,” she murmured firmly, “don’t apologize. We have to grieve for him. We have to remember him. We’re the only ones who can, Ginoza-san.”

He was frozen for a moment, his only movements coming from his shaking sobs. Then, like a drifting boat in search of a mooring, his hands fell from his eyes and clutched at the back of her shirt as his forehead came to a rest on her shoulder. “...Thank you, Tsunemori,” he whispered, his voice rough from his tears.

“Of course.”

Ginoza gave himself a few more breaths before he pulled away, granting Akane a look at his reddened eyes. “Um,” he murmured, rubbing at the lingering tear tracks on his cheeks, “would you…be willing to help me take this to my mother? I don’t know how well she remembers him, but…I think he was painting this for her in the first place. She should be the one to have it.”

“Give me the time and place,” Akane agreed with a smile. “I’ll be there.”

[psalm22-6]

 "A Scrap of Life" was the name given to an adaptation of Les Miserables performed in New South Wales in 1901, at a benefit performance for a local widow. It was written by Mr. D.A.R. Davies (who cast himself in the lead role) and performed by the St. George Dramatic Club. Here is the summary:

Jean Valjean (a galley slave), Mr. D. A. R. Davies Javert (inspector of police), Mr. W. Callaghan Montparnasse (a pickpocket), Mr. T. N. Spong Thernadier (innkeeper), Mr. C. Mcintosh M. le Cure (village priest), Mr. N. Gale Pierre (a peasant), Mr. A. Edward, jun. Mother Thernadier (innkeeper's wife), Mr. J. Edward [typo or Mrs. Thenardier performed in drag?] Fantine (a grisette), Miss Jessie Longfield Marie (priest's sister), Miss Camie Burke The action of the story—which runs about 40 minutes—is very spirited, opening with the interior of Thernadier's inn, where a number of peasants have assembled to spend the evening, - and to escape from the inclemency of the weather. Fantine, and who is travelling through the country in quest, of work, has also sought shelter from the storm. Whilst the peasants are drinking, Montparnasse, in a terrified state, rushes into the inn and relates how he met a man on the road, but who was more gorilla than man, and who was making for the inn. The others rush to the window, and at sight of Valjean grow very excited. When he enters the inn an animated scene ensues. He asks for shelter and food, which are refused him, and everyone present, with the exception of Fantine, meets him in a hostile spirit. When Fantine offers him a welcome, the others angrily rush up with the intention of throwing them both out. Valjean knocks them down, and then escapes from the place, followed by Fantine. The second scene opens in snowstorm, in which Montparnasse and Thernadier, rushing from opposite directions, madly clutch each other, both being under the impression that he is in the grip of Valjean. A humourous scene ensues, which is heightened by the appearance of Javert. They both explain that they have been chasing Vqljean, when, suddenly catching sight of him they yell with fright, and take to their heels. An interview then ensues between Javert and Valjean, the former demanding the latter's passport, subsequently accusing him of having been a convict. This Valjean denies, and Javert reluctantly allows him to pass, but determines upon the first opportunity to arrest him. The third scene shows the interior of the priest's house. Whilst the priest is admonishing his sister upon her uncharitable disposition, a knock is heard at the door, which Marie answers. She rushes back screaming to her brother, who is compelled to himself bring in the stranger who asks shelter from the storm. This proves to be Valjean. Marie declares that he is Blue Beard, that he has come after her, and implores her brother to save her. After her exit Valjean, pressed by the priest, unbosoms himself, recites the history of his life, and how he escaped from Toulon, where for twenty years he had been imprisoned. Having supplied him with food and covering for the night, the priest retires to rest, but Valjean, afraid that he may be arrested if he delays decides to resume his weary pilgrimage. As he is leaving the room he catches sight of two brass candlesticks, and a struggle takes place between gratitude and wrong. The man's baser-nature, prevails, but immediately [after] he leaves the house the priest re-enters the room for the purpose of enquiring whether his guest is comfortable. Whilst deploring the man's wrongdoing, Javert enters with Valjean under arrest. Valjean pleads with the priest to save him. A struggle follows, in which the priest's kindly disposition wins, and he declares that he gave Valjean the candlesticks. The curtain descends on the priest's words, "Jean Valjean, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. I have bought your soul from you, and I give it to Heaven!"

Source: The St. Georges Advocate, 14 December 1901 The Sydney Morning Herald, 20 December 1901

[elvira-movie-macabre]

Movie Macabre 112 - Murders in the Rue Morgue

Movie Macabre Season 01 - Episode 12 (112) Original Air Date: 12 December 1981

Murders in the Rue Morgue (1971) Directed by Gordon Hessler Written by Christopher Wicking and Henry Slesar

Starring: Jason Robards Christine Kaufmann Herbert Lom Adolfo Celi Michael Dunn Lilli Palmer

"Paris...at the turn of the century. Inspector Vidocq investigates a series of unexplained murders at a Grand Guignol-type theatre...where the players have suddenly become real-life victims. Based on the story by Edgar Allan Poe." (IMDb)

Elvira's Movie Macabre episode 12 featured Gordon Hessler's Murders in the Rue Morgue from 1971. Based very loosely on the Edgar Allan Poe story of the same name, the film fails to entertain and enthrall the way Poe's stories do. As is always the case with these Movie Macabre episodes that are unavailable, I am curious what Elvira had to say about this movie. Would she comment on the age difference of the two lead characters? Would she be bored at the needlessly slow pacing? We'll probably never know.

"I never slept with her! I was too in love with your mother!" Cesar (Robards) says to his wife, who is considerably younger than him. Everyone is in love with Madeleine, mostly because everyone was in love with her mother. Now she's haunted by nightmares of an axe wielding maniac, while current and former actors are dying mysteriously.

Rarely does a 90 minute feel too long, but this really could have been a 30 minute special without losing anything. Slow, atmospheric films are great at building tension and suspense. But it has to be done well. This movie just wastes time meandering around to pad the runtime.

This movie does have one thing going for it: the costumes. There's a great mix of French fashion and gothic elements. Almost everyone wears cloaks. Can we bring back cloaks? They're so dramatic and way better than jackets. Thanks, costumer Tony Pueo.

I understand Movie Macabre was cheap B-movies, but I keep expecting better quality from these movies. That's my own fault. I shouldn't expect that. But when these movies are extra dull, it highlights the lack of Elvira. I'm sure this boring movie was considerably more watchable when Elvira was poking fun at it.

Without the Movie Macabre episode, this movie is entirely skippable.

[firequeensrules]

Batman meta

If I was the writer of Red Hood, I would have him quit the mask and become a part of a legal government team against the super heroes, as a way to protect the innocent who are caught in the crossfire like in future state, but this time he will not be a double spy for Batman, but an active lawyer ( Jason will finish college this time) or as a crime inspector (not part of Gotham's police department), who will try to bring the big villians in real justice...He will be a nemesis to the Bat families ways of crime fighting...A hero who doesn't hide or wear a cape, but wants to protect his city as himself...Also I would bring back his all caste abilities and make him a mentalist kind short of...He will still try to hold his ties to his former family, but not in the work field

[coochiequeens]

When I post about keeping men out of women’s prisons I also mean no male staff.

A former correctional officer at California’s largest women’s prison has been arrested on suspicion of sexually assaulting at least 13 incarcerated people over nearly a decade, prosecutors said on Wednesday.

Gregory Rodriguez, who worked at the Central California Women’s Facility before he retired last year while under investigation, has been charged with 95 counts of sexual abuse, including rape, sodomy, sexual battery and rape under color of authority, the Madera county district attorney’s office said, as well as one drug-related charge. The assaults date back to 2014, but mostly occurred in the last two years, prosecutors said.

Advocates say the charges scratch the surface of systemic misconduct and sexual violence in the women’s prison, and correctional authorities last year said investigators had identified more than 22 victims of Rodriguez’s abuse.

Rodriguez, 54, was being held on $7.8m bail, and it was not clear if he had a lawyer.If convicted on all charges, Rodriguez could be sentenced to more than 300 years in prison.

The DA’s office said the 95 charges include 39 individual sexual assaults. A 48-page complaint alleges that Rodriguez abused people throughout the facilities, including in a substance abuse building, in a clinic, before and after court appearances and in the parole hearing area where incarcerated people appear before commissioners who decide whether to grant their freedom. He is also accused of bringing heroin into the prison.

Advocates working with survivors said there was a culture of abuse, fear and retaliation in the facility that allowed him to continue his behavior for years.

At a state hearing last month, state senator Lola Smallwood-Cuevas noted that Rodriguez was accused of abusing more than 1% of the entire women’s prison population, and that allegations against him date back more than 10 years: “Twenty-two women came forward, and we know when women come forward, there are often women and other victims who don’t.”

She also noted a 2021 inspector general report that found the California department of corrections and rehabilitation (CDCR) poorly handled more than 60% of all complaints against staff by incarcerated people.

“If one officer is getting away with this for more than a decade, he is backed up by other officers and by the system, which is not only allowing the culture of sexual violence to continue, but condoning it,” said Colby Lenz, an advocate with the California Coalition for Women Prisoners, a group that has been assisting the survivors. “This is not just one bad apple.”

The women’s prison where Rodriguez worked for 12 years is located in Chowchilla, a small city about 120 miles (190km) south-east of San Francisco. Rodriguez retired in August after being approached about the assaults as part of an internal investigation, CDCR said in December.

The investigation, which found that Rodriguez may have engaged in sexual misconduct against at least 22 incarcerated people, was handed over to the district attorney’s office earlier this year. Rodriguez had worked for CDCR since 1995.

“These allegations are in no way a reflection on the vast majority of correctional officers who act professionally and do their best to make sure prisoners serve their time while remaining safe,” the DA’s office said on Wednesday. “It is our hope that the removal and arrest of this defendant encourages them to continue in their honorable profession upholding the law every day.”

Two unidentified accusers filed lawsuits in December alleging Rodriguez sexually assaulted them at the prison, which holds about 2,100 residents.

Survivors who have spoken up have faced persistent retaliation, said Lenz: “They live in terror both from the trauma of the sexual violence itself and ongoing harassment and retaliation by officers, and they never have a chance to properly grieve or heal. They have to continue to live with their abusers who have the keys to their cells.”

Advocates have called on the state to expedite the release of survivors.

“They are constantly under threat. It’s horrific and extremely isolating, and there is nowhere safe to turn inside,” said Amika Mota, executive director of the Sister Warriors Freedom Coalition, another group working with the victims.

A CDCR spokesperson on Thursday pointed to the department’s earlier statement on the investigation into Rodriguez, which said “retaliation against anyone who reports these kinds of allegations as well as retaliation against those who cooperate with investigations is not tolerated”.

A 2003 federal law known as the Prison Rape Elimination Act created a “zero-tolerance” policy for the sexual assault of incarcerated people. But California prison officials have still been accused of sexual misconduct in recent years. That includes Israel Trevino, a former correctional officer at the Central California Women’s Facility, who was fired in 2018 after being accused of groping and making sexually harassing comments.

An Associated Press investigation found that a high-ranking federal bureau of prisons official, who formerly worked at a women’s prison in the San Francisco Bay Area, was repeatedly promoted after allegations that he assaulted detainees. Another investigation found a pattern of sexual abuse by correctional officers at the women’s facility. The US government is now facing a backlash for seeking to deport survivors of the abuse who are also non-citizens.

Recent civil cases have also exposed widespread sexual abuse of youthinside juvenile prisons in Los Angeles.

These types of accusations extend beyond California. Former prison officers in Kentucky and New Jersey have recently been charged with sexually abusing or assaulting incarcerated people.

The Associated Press contributed reporting

[joannanora]

Viaplay has found its Inspector Rebus and author Sir Ian Rankin is keeping it in the name.

Outlander star Richard Rankin – no relation to the source material’s scribe – will play the lead in the Nordic streamer’s debut UK original Rebus. He follows in the footsteps of fellow Scottish actors John Hannah and Ken Stott, who led the ITV version 20 years ago.

Viaplay’s reboot, which is planned as a returning series and will soon unveil more cast, follows 40-year-old Inspector John Rebus at a psychological crossroads following an altercation with an infamous Edinburgh gangster. At odds with a job increasingly driven by technocrats, involved in a toxic affair he knows he needs to end, and all but supplanted in his daughter’s life by his ex-wife’s wealthy new husband, Rebus begins to wonder if he still has a role to play – either as a family man or a police officer.

Viaplay has found its Inspector Rebus and author Sir Ian Rankin is keeping it in the name.

Outlander star Richard Rankin – no relation to the source material’s scribe – will play the lead in the Nordic streamer’s debut UK original Rebus. He follows in the footsteps of fellow Scottish actors John Hannah and Ken Stott, who led the ITV version 20 years ago.

Viaplay’s reboot, which is planned as a returning series and will soon unveil more cast, follows 40-year-old Inspector John Rebus at a psychological crossroads following an altercation with an infamous Edinburgh gangster. At odds with a job increasingly driven by technocrats, involved in a toxic affair he knows he needs to end, and all but supplanted in his daughter’s life by his ex-wife’s wealthy new husband, Rebus begins to wonder if he still has a role to play – either as a family man or a police officer.

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Richard Rankin, who plays Roger Wakefield in Starz drama Outlander and whose past credits include The Last Kingdom and Trust Me, said he “feels very lucky to be given the honour of bringing such an iconic Scottish character back to TV screens.”

Ian Rankin backed Richard Rankin to “bring the character to life,” adding: “He’s the perfect fit for the role, and not just because we coincidentally share the same surname.”

71 scribe Gregory Burke is penning the adaptation from Magpie Murders outfit Eleventh Hour Films. The project is a big UK bet for Viaplay, having launched in the territory just four months ago.

Viaplay Chief Content Officer Filippa Wallestam said it is a “privilege to have such a famous character spearheading Viaplay’s original storytelling in the UK.”

Rankin wrote 24 Rebus novels between 1987 and 2002. The TV series ran from 2000 to 2007 on ITV and saw first Hannah then Stott portray the main character.