#forgivemeyourhonor

[anakin-warcrimes-skywalker]

masked men. masked men. masked men. masked men. Masked Men. Masked Men. Masked Men. MASKED MEN. MASKED MEN. MASKED MEN

[veilxstars]

Location: St. Peter's Roman Catholic Church For: Julian | @forgivemeyourhonor Character: Felix

Felix had always appreciated the theatrics of a well-done Mass, the organ swelling, the reverent atmosphere, the ever-present sense of mystery hanging in the air. Today, however, his interest had little to do with the liturgy itself. He had simply spotted Julian De Los Santos across the pews and, well… Felix couldn't resist.

The service had just finished, the congregation slowly beginning to trickle out of the church, and Felix—ever the dramatic—made his way toward the aisle, slipping through the rows with a nonchalant grace, his presence more felt than seen. He didn’t walk, he glided, his polished shoes almost silent against the worn wooden floor.

It wasn’t that he had any particular fondness for religion or the teachings of the church. No, for Felix, Mass was simply another opportunity to witness a fascinating display of human nature. And there, right in the center of it all, was Julian, his usual composed self, shaking hands and exchanging polite words with parishioners.

Felix smiled to himself, a plan already forming. It had been a while since he’d crossed paths with Julian, and Felix had a way of making the most mundane encounters seem like high drama. He reached the older man’s side and let out a soft, theatrical sigh. “Ah, Julian, I see you’ve survived another holy gathering,” Felix said with a grin, voice smooth and teasing. “I was beginning to wonder if you were about to sprout wings and join the choir.”

Felix leaned in just slightly, as if they were in the middle of a scandalous conversation. “I’ve always thought Mass had a certain flair to it, don’t you? The ritual, the little performances… The incense, the candles… It’s all very… dramatic, in its own way.”

He was enjoying himself. “But I must admit, I’m far more interested in seeing how you navigate this,” Felix continued, gesturing lightly toward the slowly emptying church. “I had to make sure you didn’t get swept away in the tide of polite chatter and pious smiles.”

Felix chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I do hope you’ve had time to reflect on your… sins,” he added with a teasing smirk. "I am sure you're quite sorry that you used the bic pen instead of the fountain pen on the fourth page of the third copy of the legal briefing what's it called. All is forgiven, I say. And -- you will join me for lunch, non?"

[veilxstars]

Mags took in Julian’s words, each one like a thread that bound her, grounding her in this place she’d so hesitantly called home. For years, she had been ready to run. She had an emergency bag just in case she had to flee in the night, but for the first time -- she thought she saw an out. For a moment, she couldn’t bring herself to respond. She’d built walls so thick and high she forgot what lay beyond them—and here he was, offering her a world of safety, of permanence.

He was offering her a hand, both literally and figuratively. She let her hands shape her reply, gentle but certain, even as emotions swirled beneath the surface.

“Maybe jesters play the fool,” she signed slowly, “but you—you’re so much more. You’re the guard and the priest and the --." She faltered for a moment. "And for the Queen, Julian—for me,” her hands hesitated a moment before continuing, “You're one of the reasons why I don't want to run away.” For a moment, her mind flickered to the Kingsleys—the way they’d only ever offered her a home with conditions, a place that was built like a cage, built on lies and pretense. With them, safety had been an illusion, the walls a flimsy barrier from the storm that raged within their own hearts. They’d taken her in, yes, but only so far, never letting her belong. She was livestock. Sure, a cow could be raised preciously, but she was still going to end up at the meat-plant in the end.

But here… here with Julian, it was different. His protection was a shield, something unyielding, without strings, without demands. He was looking out for her because he cared, because he saw her, past everything she’d done and all the fear she carried. “I believe you,” she signed at last, fingers trembling slightly as she pressed her hands together. “I believe you."

This place, this strange little life, was nothing like what she’d imagined, but it felt real. She met his gaze, her face softening as her fingers moved again, slower, her heart behind each sign.

“This is my home now,” she signed, the words more of a declaration than she’d ever thought herself capable of. “Because of you.” She paused, her eyes steady on his, and added, “Thank you.”

"I know it's not yours," he signed, a tight lipped and understanding smile gracing his lips "but the queen deserves panes that are not broken, at the very least. Her jester is happy to divide." He couldn't help but chuckle at that. He always thought parents were a bit like jesters. Himself included, feeling like a father ever since he had stepped into her life. Parents, much like jesters, tried everything they could, including making complete fools of themselves in order to please the high court. Never minding to do so, as it is their duty.

When she touched his hand he felt the true weight of her fear wash over him. Her retellings painted a picture of the torment she faced. He wanted to reach out and tell her that they would face this together but he feared pushing her further into her shell. Instead, he spoke back in addition to his signing as he said "I will do everything. And I mean, everything, in order to keep you safe. I won't let anything happen to you." Julian would die before he ever let anything bad happen to her and that was a fact that was true and absolute.

He reached his arm up to place a hand on his heart for a long moment as he looked at her, seemingly stilling the raging waters. "Listen m-i-j-a," he finally signed and said as his eyes narrowed in a way that was warm and not the scathing way he was used to in court "You don't have a formal birth certificate. As far as the law is concerned, everyone here has only known you as Mags. That's what we can reflect on your official records. Who you were, before you came here, is virtually non-existent. And I'll fight to the death to keep it that way."

Julian's eyes softened further, if that was even possible, when she used her name for him in her own tongue -- or more appropriately, her own hands. A silent language known by the few, by the chosen. "This is your home. You can stay here as long as you want. I will make sure of that. You know that, right? You're safe here. If they come here, for you, they will leave. Immediately. And I will make sure, personally, that they are sorry they ever stepped foot in this town."

[cardinalhq]

Julian’s blog is @forgivemeyourhonor 👨‍⚖️✨

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･― follow !

[veilxstars]

Location: Orion's Reach Observatory (Hidden Archives) For: Julian | @forgivemeyourhonor Character: Atlas Time: After Halloween

Atlas Serling stood at the entrance of the observatory, the towering structure rising majestically against the darkening sky. As the sun dipped below the horizon, it painted the world in shades of deep purple and gold, while a blanket of stars began to twinkle above. The observatory held more than just a telescope; it was a sanctuary filled with ancient tomes, celestial charts, and the whispers of those who had come before. Atlas had dedicated their life to studying the stars, delving into the mysteries of the universe and the magic intertwined with it.

Within the walls of this beloved sanctuary lay the hidden archives—an expansive collection of knowledge, filled with secrets about the cosmos and the occult. Atlas had spent countless nights poring over these texts, uncovering the forgotten tales of celestial beings and the whispers of ancient magic. It was due to these tomes and records that they first met Julian.

Recognizing the depth of Julian’s curiosity and his penchant for justice, Atlas had decided to grant him access to the archives. The observatory was alive with the soft glow of lanterns, casting dancing shadows across the walls adorned with maps of the night sky. The familiar scent of aged paper and ink mingled with the crisp night air as Atlas prepared for Julian's visit. Lyra, their serpent companion, slithered playfully around Atlas's arm, sensing the unease that settled in the pit of their stomach.

They only had two rules for the archives: never remove a book or scroll from the archives and second - if anything felt wrong, to tell Atlas directly.

[veilxstars]

Location: Coffee Shop For: Julian | @forgivemeyourhonor Character: Grey Hawthorne

Grey stood at the edge of the patio, the crisp autumn air wrapping around him like an unwelcome shroud. This was his second meeting with Julian, and the sense of foreboding had only grown.

He spotted Julian moving through the bustling café, each step deliberate, as though attuned to the town’s heartbeat. “Thank you for meeting me again,” he began, his voice steady yet low, mindful of the lively atmosphere around them. “My initial impressions of Cardinal Hill have deepened into something more ... curious. Ominous.”

Casting a glance at the townsfolk, he noted the way their faces lit with familiarity but were tinged with an undercurrent of tension. “There’s a feeling here—an unease that clings to the air. Whispers of strange happenings and shadows linger just beyond sight. It feels as if the town is holding its breath, waiting for something to break the surface.”

He leaned closer, intensity flickering in his eyes. “I came to you because you seem to possess insight into this place. Have you noticed it too?” He was attuned to the evil of his estate - to the lands he had been cursed to serve before anything else - he couldn't tell if the feeling was the same -- related. "or am I in deeper than I thought?"

[veilxstars]

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[veilxstars]

Mags wrinkled her nose as he offered money for the new panes, shaking her head with a faint smirk. She signed emphatically, "Greenhouse isn’t mine, you know that," then added, "But I am queen of it. Everyone knows that if they try to make the flowers grow, they tell them the wrong stories, and the flowers don't grow as well." Julian had helped her get the job there; it was one of the first of many things she had asked him for help with over the years - as she worked under the table, and there was always the risk of being taken advantage. It was why she didn't go to him without having something to offer in trade - even if it was just a sandwich.

But when Julian leaned into his plan to dig into her past, Mags’ expression hardened. She leaned over the desk and placed her hand firmly over his, a rare gesture. She never reached out to him first. She never physically touched anyone.

“Julian,” she said out loud, her voice uneven, like finding words took more effort than she’d prefer. She could speak out-loud, but she didn't like how her voice felt in her throat, her vocal cords producing sounds she had never heard -- but she needed him to understand. “Please… don’t go looking up things. It’s dangerous.”

She had to pull her hand back so she could sign again. Her ASL was fast, fierce, “If you did, they’d find me.” She breathed deeply. He was going to ask questions. He deserved to ask questions. "I don't have a family. I did once, but they had their own baby and didn't want me anymore, so they gave me away like you'd give away a dog."

Then came the hardest part to say: "The new family - they're not good people….” Her signing slowed, deliberate. She was cracking open the door to her past that she had been running away from - that she thought she could escape, as long as she kept facing forward. "They'd kill me if they found me -- I burned down their library to distract them so I could get away. Their family spell books. Their experiments. They know my given name. If you start using it - getting access to it - what if they've been looking for me, and you trigger a missing person report, and then they find me again?"

Did he understand? Did he get why she had to keep hiding? For the rest of her life, she'd fight to keep her walls up and people out. "I'm Mags now. I want to stay Mags. I want to keep my life here - with you. With -- with Bunny. Tigger. I don't want to be the person I was. I don't want to be..." she shook her head. "I don't want to go back. They -- I'm already --" she exhaled hard, not having the right words. "Julian..." she signed his name, his sign name - the name she gave him, not finger-spelling his name. She used the name as it would be in her language, not translated from English to ASL.

(His name was The sign for J and then a tapping two fingers against her heart.)

"This is my home -- I want to stay here."

Julian watched as Mags signed -- the hint of her smile, even if it was just a hint, it still brought warmth to the room. It seemed to always be a balance of delicacy for her. Between her vulnerability and her own need to guard herself. He always admired her resilience in that way, even if it was only there out of necessity. He chuckled softly, a smile lighting up his face too, "Don't be silly, your bread is always good," he signed, "your visits never fail to make my day and fresh bread is a bonus."

As she spoke about the plants, he felt something reminiscent of pride. He had watched her grow up and helped guide her, now not only could she take care of herself (and had been really for a while), but also could now take care of flora and fauna. "That's good, they're very strong." he indicated, fingers moving faster now "If you need some money for new panes, please don't hesitate to ask." Julian motioned to his checkbook that was now also cast aside with the forgotten case files. He knew she was unlikely to ask for money or even accept it if he just handed it over, but he thought he might as well throw that out there. He didn't mind helping out, he never did. Mags was family to him, maybe even the only 'family' he had in Washington with his mother in Cuba and his siblings scattered throughout the United States (no where near the Pacific Northwest at that). Julian wasn't a frivolous spender either and with him being on so many retainers, money wasn't an issue for him. He would much rather spend it on helping out someone he cares about or throwing a lavish dinner party than spending it on fancy things, designer suits and gadgets.

When her expression shifted and seriousness settled in, he leaned forward. His heart racing at the admission. Forty-thousand dollars; a small fortune. Definitely enough for a down payment on a decent house in the area. Julian could see how nervous she was, the look in her eyes could always give her a way to him. He recognized the leap she was trying to make. "It's not dumb." Julian signed quickly, vocalizing it at the same time so that way she knew he really meant it "Wanting a home. Wanting roots. Nothing about that is dumb. Nothing about that is foolish. You deserve to have a space of your own where you can feel safe. I'm proud of you for taking this step." And he was. Really, truly proud of her. He had to take a deep breath through his nose to stop tears from prickling at the corners of his green eyes.

"It's not impossible," he signed, composing himself quickly "things like this are rarely impossible, not when you have counsel like me." Julian motioned now to himself, trying to lighten the mood with a cheesy gesture -- accompanied by an equally cheesy smile.

Julian glanced at the money now, his face showing only the whisper of a grimace. It made him extremely nervous to know she was walking around with that much cash. But he wasn't going to convince her to put it in the bank. That's an immediate no. "Let's talk about how to make this work. You're not alone in this. You never are." Not with Julian in her life.

"Getting identification sorted out might be difficult, but it is possible. Even if it feels overwhelming." He signed, his fingers moving deliberately and firmly to reassure her. "We'll first need to gather any documents we have about you. Medical records or any documentation. I know you don't have much if any at all, but there are alternative avenues we can pursue, okay? Don’t worry." He signed before pulling out a notepad from one of the drawers in his desk so he could start drafting a plan.

"It could take some time - but we can apply for something that is called a delayed birth certificate. It's just as good as a regular birth certificate. We can get the ball rolling on getting you a Washington State ID once we have that." Julian held a soft smile on his lips, praying he could instill a sense of hope to her. He would be there to guide Mags every step of the way.

[veilxstars]

Mags paused outside the door, her heart thumping in her chest like a trapped bird. She didn't know if he was letting her in, but she had to trust that he was - as though this wouldn't be the first time Julian turned her away. She had taken to bringing Julian lunch weekly - never on the same day or the same time - that was too routine for her, a small act she offered in her own cautious way. Today, it felt particularly important; she was trying to overcome the memory of the storm.

Gathering her resolve, she pushed the door open with a false ease, stepping into the dimly lit office. The sight of Julian, deep in concentration over his case files, stirred a familiar tension within her. She always felt this way when she was alone with someone else - like she was being called in for punishment -- even though she had sought Julian out willingly. She had spent so long learning to navigate the world in solitude, finding safety only in her attic room at the inn and in the greenhouse, where the plants thrived under her care.

“Lunch,” she signed, her movements sharp and quick, infused with purpose. She held up a brown paper bag. She didn't trust the markets, so she made her own bread - she left one loaf for the inn and another she used for herself. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant to her, a way to reach out without inviting too much closeness.

Mags glanced around the room, her eyes flitting over the clutter of legal documents and the dim glow of the desk lamp. The closed blinds gave the space a sense of sanctuary, a refuge where Julian prepared to fight battles that were far larger than her own. She didn’t move closer, maintaining her distance as a feral cat might, cautious despite the years she's known him. He'd have to indicate that she could come in further.

“Just… thought you might need a break,” she signed, her expression flat. She quickly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze momentarily dropping to the floor. Being around others had always been challenging for her. People tended to be untrustworthy. "And you don't remember to eat."

for: anyone (could be a client, friend, someone looking for legal advice, etc, up to you!)

location: Julian’s office

@cardinalstart

Julian De Los Santos scoured meticulously over every piece of evidence that was laid out before him on his large oak desk. It was sunny outside for now but his blinds were closed, the soft glow of the desk lamp highlighting the focused expression etched across his features. His fingers danced across the keyboard, searching for precedents and strategies in the Discovery. He was working on a particularly gruelling case, one that would be tough to win; and he really wanted that win. Sometimes he actually preferred diffucult cases over ones that were cut and dry, served on a silver platter. The triumph felt bigger, brighter when he really had to work for it.

While criminal defense is his passion in life, his own brother -- a victim of the labyrinthine jaws of a flawed legal system, he also provides counsel for many walks of life. The lack of attorneys in the area and his love for the community required him to wear many hats. Some of them ugly, but all of them, his. Divorce? He can help with that. Business contracts? Easy, peasy. Some jerkoff at the grocery store backs into your car and then speeds off like a bat out of hell? Just give him the license number and he's got your back.

Just as he was about to delve even further into the intricacies of the case, a knock echoed throughout the room. Breaking the intense silence of his determination. Julian raised up his head, his brows furrowing a bit at the unexpected interruption. He turned his wrist to glance at the time and it only puzzled him further; he wasn't expecting any clients yet. Leaning back in his chair, the leather creaked quietly as he called out a simple “Please, come in.” with a composed tone.

[veilxstars]

Atlas gave Julian a friendly, genuine nod as he entered, a hint of amusement in their eyes. “Right on time, as always. The stars know you well.” They could see the briefcase Julian was holding a bit tighter than usual, and a knowing look took away the humor. Atlas, by default, was a person of somber attitude and quiet reflection.

“Come on,” Atlas said, motioning toward the back, where the observatory's hidden collection was kept. “I know you’ve got questions. There are starmaps, astrological patterns over the centuries, even the town’s history through an astronomer’s eyes.” They slid back the heavy curtain, revealing the shelf of old star charts and books, each one meticulously cared for.

But before Julian could start his search, Atlas paused, fingers tapping idly on a volume titled The Celestial Paths. They met Julian's eyes with an honesty they rarely let show. They always strove to be the guiding force - the north star. “I’ll be honest — I’ve been looking through these charts lately, trying to make sense of some…strange alignments. The stars have been laughing.”

They shrugged, trying to keep the tone casual but not entirely succeeding. They were concerned and had no one else to speak to about these feelings. “There’s something in those patterns that feels different, as if they’re reflecting more than just light. It’s probably nothing,” they added quickly, more to reassure themselves than Julian. Maybe a little reassurance for Julian. "But maybe it isn't nothing..." They hesitated, running a hand along the spine of one of the other books. “I keep looking to the stars for answers, but it’s like I can feel something staring back. Watching.” Atlas's gaze lifted, meeting Julian’s, weighing the wisdom of sharing more. "I've always believed that the stars guide us, but lately—I'm worried they may be guiding something else here as well."

Atlas offered a faint smile. “But you know me, I’ll keep looking. This place has always been about finding answers... even if they aren't the answers we want."

Julian De Los Santos walked through the cobbled streets of Cardinal Hill. His loafers clicked against the stones, quietly, as the evening began to stretch across the road ahead. It was a particularly crisp night. The smell of petrichor and fallen leaves wafting through the air. It was always his favorite time of year, when everything seemed a bit quieter, a bit more slow. But tonight there was an urgency in his steps. Something was brewing and Julian was determined to figure it out, lest anything happen to the little sleepy town he now affectionately called home.

He was headed for the observatory, a place he had visited more times than he cared to count. Being an introspective and curious man, it had a hold on him. Though he had many years ago shifted his focus to something more "normal", or as 'normal' as the judicial system could be -- he was a brujo at heart and always would be. It was his heritage, carrying a piece of his mother Rosa on his alter and everywhere he went. She was the first teacher to Julian, her hands calloused from years of working with herbs and healing her nursing patient's. His sisters were attuned deeply to the spiritual world as well. But still yet, Julian had always kept his own practice more private, almost hidden. His father's influence maybe, or perhaps, his own way of compartmentalizing.

Either way, it didn't make a difference to Julian, he still made his way to the old observatory. To visit a friend and to peruse the information he had only recently become privy to. He took a pause, accompanied by a deep breath as his fingers brushed over the ornate iron knocker. Julian gripped onto the leather strap of his briefcase as he slowly pushed the door open. Filled with case files, which was not unordinary for him. But what was't ordinary; was what was buried deep deep inside all the other paperwork. A small notepad, bound in leather centuries old. Containing information passed from his mother's mother, to his mother, to him. Information that he hoped would help him unearth some answers.

Julian finally entered the observatory, a signature playful grin on his lips as he searched for his friend Atlas; arms crossed firmly across his chest. When he spotted him, he gave a "Hello, my friend! How are the stars treating you tonight?"