#he's just normal men just innocent men!! (he has been arrested at least twice)

[gigamuffin]

i really do want to post about Tom Ask more, but yeah he is supposed to be an average man from a not too popular city, with a wife and two kids. the most interesting thing about this man is his long hair, being bilingual and autism swag. but also i believe in the magic of just being human

[youcancallmecirce]

Imaari

Finally going to play actual D&D, and of course, had to write a thing for my druid’s backstory.  Imaari is mine, of course, and Hardwin is actually my husband’s character.  Thoughts?

“Let me guess,” Andeana said dryly from the doorway.  “They started it.”

“Andeana!” Startled, Imaari spun to face her, guiltily hiding the bloodied cloth behind her back as though her bloodied face wouldn’t give her away.  When she realized this, Imaari dropped her hands to her sides and lifted her chin.  She was no child to be scolded, and would not apologize for defending herself.  Even if fighting back makes life harder for everyone in the Enclave? her conscience prodded her.  She ignored it.  “Yes,” she said, responding to Andeana’s question.  “They did.”

“Imaari,” she sighed, having taken in the younger woman’s disheveled belligerence with a shake of her head.  Imaari didn’t blame her.  The confrontation with the other elven youths had left one eye swollen nearly shut, her tunic spattered with drying blood from both a split brow and cut lip, and as she stood there, she felt fresh blood beginning to trickle from her nose.  Again.  Andeana strode forward to take the rag from Imaari’s hand with a sound of exasperation.  

“At least there’s nothing broken this time,” Imaari offered, her voice muffled by the cloth as Andeana dabbed at the fresh blood.

“At least,” Andeana agreed, inspecting Imaari’s face more carefully.  “I doubt Rathil would be willing to heal you again, so soon after the last time.”

Imaari scoffed and dropped inelegantly onto her narrow bed, her back propped against the wall and one leg stretched out on the mattress. Rathil, who was ancient even by elven standards, was the best healer in the Rallathian Enclave.  He also happened to think that Imaari ought to simply accept her lot in life without complaint so as not to strain the relationship between the Enclave and the larger community of Tessington.  Given that ‘accepting her lot’ meant tolerating a great deal of abuse from that community, Imaari flatly refused to do so and Rathil was rarely inclined to help her.  “No, he wouldn’t.  I still have plenty of salve, though, and that’s all I’ll need this time.”

Andeana gave her an arch look as she rinsed the bloody rag in the washbasin and handed it back.  “We just made it last week.” 

“I like the way it smells,” Imaari said innocently, pressing the damp cloth to her face.  The cool water felt lovely on her abused skin, though the cuts stung a little.  She held it there for a few moments, then used it to gently wipe away what blood and dirt she could.  The rest, she knew, would have to wait for a proper wash.

“This isn’t going to stop, is it?” Andeana asked quietly when Imaari leaned forward and tossed the soiled rag back to the wash stand. 

Imaari’s gaze shot to her, but it wasn’t really a question and needed no answer.  Imaari had been telling her as much for years now.  Instead, she arched her brows as she sank slowly back against the wall, her regard steady on Andeana.  

“I know you want to leave,” Andeana went on, delving into their well-worn argument in spite of Imaari’s silence. “To go out and see if there is a place for you beyond Shindwaud, but the Humans may treat you no better.”

 “They’re unlikely to treat me any worse,” Imaari said, sighing.  Apparently, they were going to have the old argument after all.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that it’s not going to get any better here.”

“Give it more time--”

“Twenty years,” Imaari interrupted.  “We have been having some version of this conversation for twenty years, ‘Deana, and nothing has changed.  Nothing. Humans are still hated, and I am still treated like a diseased criminal by all but you and the Elders. I will not waste my life waiting for what will never be.”

“The Elders are sympathetic, Imaari, if you will just be patient--” 

“I am done with being patient!” Imaari shouted, leaping to her feet.  Imaari’s loss of temper was nothing new, but never before had she turned it on her adoptive mother.  The uncharacteristic aggression shocked Andeana into wide-eyed silence.  Imaari modulated her volume but not her tone, and pressed her rare advantage.  “The Elders cannot compel trust or acceptance, Andeana.  The others will never accept me. You all but admitted as much just a few minutes ago.”

Andeana’s brows lowered, sadness completely overtaking her surprise.  “If you leave the Enclave--” 

“If I leave the Enclave, then I have at least  a chance at a real life.”

“If you leave this place, child, you give up the protection of the Enclave.  You will have no protection at all.”

“The border with Arch is not more than a few days’ travel from here, and the Sister Lakes settlement not far beyond that.  I can travel with the merchant train, take advantage of their numbers to stay safe.”  Imaari’s eyes narrowed as she went on.  “And I’m not a child, Andeana, especially not by Human standards.”

“You’re not a Human, Imaari!”

“I know,” she replied softly.  “But I’m not an Elf, either.”

Andeana flinched, but it was a truth she needed to face.  No matter how much they both wished that Imaari had been her natural daughter, she was not.  She was a half-Human orphan who’d been lucky enough to end up in an Enclave of aging druids rather than on the merciless streets. “Very well,” Andeana said at last.  Then she slipped from the room with no more than a sad smile, leaving Imaari off-balance.  

Imaari hadn’t at all expected her to capitulate so easily, and it made her wonder whether Andeana had accepted the necessity even before coming to check on her.  It was what she wanted, what she had wanted for a very long time, but her victory felt surprisingly hollow.

“He’s dead,” Imaari said blankly, drawing her fingers from the man’s throat and sitting back on her heels.

“I told you,” said a gruff voice above her.  “We need to go, now.”

Imaari looked up from the body stretched before her to stare at the broad Human man standing over it.  His scarred face was set in grim lines and impatience tightened his voice, but his eyes shone with...excitement? She blinked.  “Go?”

He gestured vaguely in the direction the other Humans had fled, and she followed the movement of his perfectly normal hand with bemusement.  He’d just used that hand to kill a man as easily as she might swat a fly, yet not a speck of blood stained it.  That seemed wrong, somehow.

“They’ll come back, with more men and the constabulary besides.  If we’re lucky, they’ll only want to arrest us.”

“Us?” Lothien echoed incredulously.  “You’re the one who killed him!”

“Doesn’t matter,” the man replied flatly, turning back towards his modest house and speaking over his shoulder.  “You’re Elves.  The folk around here wouldn’t think twice about killing you first and not bothering with the questions after.”

Lothien, the leader of the merchant band, stalked after the man in outrage.  In some part of her mind, Imaari thought that was rather foolhardy but Lothien didn’t seem to fear the scarred Human.  She stayed where she was and her eyes fell again to the dead man, which occupied the far greater portion of her mind. A quarter of an hour earlier that man had been hale and virile, a rural farmer in his prime.  Now he lay like a broken doll in a pool of his own blood.

The reality of her situation struck Imaari all at once. She stood suddenly and backed away from his body, her panicked brain trying to identify the moment that things had gone wrong.

Imaari had joined the merchant train just as she’d told Andeana she would, and until this morning, her journey had been utterly unremarkable.  She’d rebuffed a few unwanted attentions, pulled her own weight, and the sidelong looks she’d received had been more curious than hostile.  After two days of slow travel, they’d arrived at a campsite used regularly by Elven traders.  She’d heard the merchants’ guards discussing it the night before as they ate around their fire.

Apparently, the locals here were particularly distrustful of Elves and until a few years ago, it had been dangerous to travel directly through this area.  Then, for some reason, whoever owned this land had offered it as a place of safety to any Elves traveling legitimately in the region.  Since the traders no longer had to skirt the area, they were saved a full day of traveling through empty countryside to avoid conflict.  A few of the older guards who remembered what it was like to deal with the Humans around here were deeply skeptical about the safety of this place, but the younger guards had brushed off those concerns as the paranoia of old age.

Now, Imaari knew that those more experienced guards had been right to be wary.  Their whole camp had been roused just after dawn by nearly a dozen angry men, all brandishing farm tools like weapons and demanding that the elven group move on immediately.  Lothien had used every bit of charm he could muster, but it made no difference.  The bristling group became ever more aggressive.

Imaari had looked to the guards, waiting for them to step forward and do their jobs, but they had not.  The older ones had even restrained the two youths who had tried.  She hadn’t understood at the time, but she thought that perhaps she did now.

If she had not stepped forward so boldly to challenge the Humans, then Lothien might have been able to buy them enough time to pack their train and move on without more than a few bruises, but she had interfered.  The injustice of the Humans’ accusations had infuriated her.  This sort of prejudice was exactly the reason she left Tessignton, and she had done so with such hope that things could be better.  

That Humans would be better.

But, no.  Her first encounter with Humans had been defined by prejudice.  Their treatment of Lothien had echoed exactly the way the Elven youths of Tessignton had treated her, and it had been too much.  She had lost her temper, rushed in without thinking, and given the Humans exactly what they’d wanted: an excuse for violence. 

Their leader, a wiry young man wearing a stained jerkin, had backhanded her hard enough to knock her to the ground with ringing ears. Only then did she recognize the gleam in his eyes.  A quick glance around showed that same light in all of the eyes trained on her, and she had known then that they intended to make an example of her.  A glance over her shoulder showed that she would receive no help from the other Elves.  She saw regret in a few of their faces, but most of them actually looked relieved.  And why not?  She was only a half-Elf and not one of their company.  That she’d unwittingly offered herself as a sacrificial lamb meant that perhaps they could get away unscathed.

Part of her had wanted to give in to panic--she could hold her own against a few opponents, but not against ten-- but she was too angry and too stubborn.  She gripped her stout quarterstaff more tightly and planted her feet, glaring.  It was all the invitation those men had needed.

The sound of their fight had been enough to draw the scar-faced man from his dilapidated house, and it was a good thing.  The Humans had been playing with her, taking turns at fighting and jeering, but she was not the easy victim they’d assumed. It made them angrier. If the scarred man had not intervened, she’d be the one lying crumpled on the ground, beyond even Rathil’s ability to heal.  

But he had come, had placed himself between the Elves and the Humans, and tried to diffuse the situation.

“This is my land,” he said.  “These people have my permission to be here; you do not.”

“These Elves,” spat one of the younger men, the one in the dirty jerkin who had first backhanded her, “are not allowed anywhere near our village.  You don’t have the authority to say otherwise.  Go back to working your pathetic farm, old man, and let us deal with this infestation.”

“No,” Scars said flatly. 

“No?” scoffed Dirty Jerkin, and the other Humans laughed.  

Scars frowned.  “Leave.  Now.”

The others laughed again.  “We’re not leaving, old man.  You should go away, unless you want to throw your lot in with this whore Elf.” 

Scars said nothing.  He stared levelly at the other Humans, and for several long moments, no one said anything.  The smiles began to waver, and a few shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.  The change was not lost on Dirty Jerkin, and his eyes narrowed.

“Have it your way,” he said, and lunged.  Scars sidestepped him neatly, tripping him as he went by.  Dirty Jerkin stumbled, but managed to save himself from sprawling in the dust.  He turned with a growl and lunged again, was tripped again, but could not recover himself again.  A murmur went through the gathered crowd, among the Elves and the Humans alike, and Dirty Jerkin’s angry face flushed deeper in humiliation.

He stood, yanking a dagger from a boot sheath as he rose. He held murder in his eyes, and it seemed to trigger a change in Scars.  His languid calm fell away, his eyes sharpened, and his muscles tensed.  Imaari recognized it as the deadly focus of a predator preparing to strike, but everything was happening so quickly; she couldn’t process anything quickly enough to react.

Scars struck before Dirty Jerkin had taken more than a step.  His fist took the younger man in the gut, but rather than disengaging Scars allowed his momentum to carry him forward, following Dirty Jerkin to the ground.  Jerkin’s head struck the ground with a sickening thunk just before Scars landed atop him, plowing his other fist into the man’s face.  His head hit the ground again, paired this time with the awful sound of crunching bone. Scars froze, his fist raised to strike again, and the clearing went absolutely silent.

“Fuck,” he said, and all of that lethal intent was suddenly just...gone.  As one, the rest of us looked from him back down at Dirty Jerkin and saw what he’d seen: not only had his face been utterly ruined, but blood spread beneath his head in a growing circle.    

After that, it had taken only a look to send the rest of the men on their way.  Some had been angry, some had been afraid, but none of them had been willing to challenge the scarred man.  They could probably have overcome him, if they had all attacked at once, but at least a few of them would have joined their friend on the ground before it was done.

Rising voices and the stir of activity brought Imaari back to herself.  Dirty Jerkin still lay where he’d fallen, but all around her the merchant camp was packing up.  Suddenly afraid of being left behind, Imaari hurried to do the same as the arguing voices moved closer.  

“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Lothien was saying.  “We have no reason to abandon our goods and go haring off into the middle of nowhere when we have people waiting for us in Sister Lakes.”

“Suit yourself,” Scars replied.  “But they’re going to come after you.  You sure that your people in town will be willing to stick their necks out to keep yours out of a noose?”

Lothien did not answer immediately, and she suspected that idea of a noose had shaken him as badly as it had shaken her.  When his answer came, though, it was firm. “We are well-known, respected merchants.  We’ve been trading this route through Arch for years, and many of the nobles are quite dependent on our goods.”

Scars grunted indifferently, but Imaari went still. The constables would want to hold someone accountable for the murder, to appease the angry mob if nothing else.  The merchants might be safe, but what of her?  She had no connections in Arch, and no connection to anyone in the merchant train. If they were willing to let the mob have her, what would stop them from handing the half-breed outsider over as a scapegoat?

Nothing.  Nothing at all.  She could take her chances with them, and would likely make it as far as Sister Lakes with the group, but what then?  Stay and hope?  Slip away just outside the city and strike out on her own? Imaari was naive but not stupid; neither option was likely to go well for her.  

What if… Well, he had said “we” earlier, hadn’t he?  And from what she’d heard of his conversation with Lothien, he’d been trying to convince the Elven merchant to go with him rather than going on along their route as planned.  Would Scars, or whatever his name was, be willing to take just her?

And if he was, what assurance did she have that this option wouldn’t be as bad, or worse, than going with the Elves as planned?  Imaari bit her lip. Scars was an unknown quantity, but at least he had stepped in earlier, and kept those men from killing her.  It was more than the Elves had done, and it decided her.

Lothien sent the guard away with a flick of his fingers, then allowed himself a satisfied smile.  The troublesome half-breed had gone with that Human Hardwin fellow, just as he’d thought.  It wasn’t the simplest solution to his problem, but it did have a neat sort of symmetry.  Lothien liked symmetry.

Of course someone from that backwater village would come after them, but they would reach the city before that someone could catch up.  

Of course, that someone would go to the authorities in Sister Lakes, and of course those authorities would have to do something about it.  The war had not been so long ago, after all, and there were too many bad memories for them to let such an accusation against Elves go unpunished. 

But Lothien and his good people were just as appalled as anyone at the morning’s violence, so of course he will waste no time before reporting the incident to the authorities himself.  He will construct the narrative of events, and that narrative will be confirmed as fact when the villagers come looking for blood. 

It would have been simpler if he could hand the girl over to them himself, and he would have done exactly that if she’d chosen to stay with their group.  She was clever, though, that half-breed.  Lothien suspected that she had gone with the human because she knew what waited for her in Sister Lakes.  He might still have taken her with him if he hadn’t also suspected that Hardwin wouldn’t allow them to take her against her will.

More than suspected, really, and it was a shame.  That Hardwin had allowed them to use his land had cut a day from their travel time each way and thus increased their profits.  That option will be closed to them when the man is arrested and hung with the girl, if it had not already been.

And besides; the girl was the one who had sent things spinning out of control, and Hardwin was the one who’d done the killing.  It was only right that they be the ones punished for the crime.

[everlarkingjoshifer]

Trump signed an executive order to abolish what he did....

I don’t normally come in here to post long political pieces. However, after the disgusting comments that I’ve read on social media as Democrats held a press conference to speak about children being ripped apart from their parents at the border, is more than I can take. So, because I am pretty fucking annoyed with all the baseless accusations, and major misinformation I would like to dispel erroneous conclusions along with the comments I have been seeing on social media.

Immigrants are taking our jobs!

No Becky, they’re not. Immigrants are bringing in jobs and taking the low wage, often dangerous and non-union jobs that YOU don’t want to take. How about you go pick those strawberries in the blazing heat for as little as 6$ an hour, doesn’t sound very appealing right? So if it’s not good enough for you because you want a cushy job, what makes you think Immigrants want to do it too? They don’t, but they’re so desperate to make a living that they’re willing to do anything so long as they can provide a better future for their own families, something you can easily understand. As a matter of fact, while you enjoy your burrito know that none of it would be possible if it wasn’t for an immigrant who brought in their culture and food to enrich our country. Yeah, that big old Mexican franchised fast food joint? Would not have existed for your high school kids to work at, so while your sitting on your ass enjoying someone else’s culture, know that none of it 

would be possible without an immigrant.

Immigrants are taking our resources and our taxes pay for them to live here!

 Noooo, Immigrant individuals cannot ever receive federal based help such as SSI. They can’t even get health insurance. Some states do hand out some help to aid immigrants but it would only be something as small as being able to use the WIC program which is very limited. (I’ve used it when I had just given birth). As a matter of fact, white citizens are amongst the highest percentage who receive federal assistance and immigrant people pay INTO our social security and taxes without hope of ever getting that money back. If you want to talk about needlessly spending your money on immigrants then you should definitely be against the barbaric procedures that are happening right the hell now. There are companies profiting from your taxpayer money in order to house children that didn’t need to be housed in the first place. It’s all a big scam and those 1 % who don’t really need the money are making millions that you’re paying into JUST because you want to be a paranoid idiot. It’s a pretty simple concept actually, it’s called security theater. Except this theater is of the Third Reich.

They’re bringing in disease!

See, now you just sound like a Nazi, and come on, we��re not exactly one to speak about diseases when you’re refusing to vaccinate your fucking kid because of “big pharma, unfounded conspiracies, and autism”. Cry me a fucking river, Shania. The whole notion of disease comes out of fear of the unknown but we cannot throw a stone at someone else knowing we do the same. We won’t vaccinate and now measles, chicken pox, whooping cough, and many other diseases are on the rise because you’d rather let your kid die than have autism, which by the way has been dispelled at every turn by various scientists.

Obama/ Bush administration were the ones who implemented the law of child separation. 

Oh Brandon, you xenophobic dick. First of all the Obama and Bush administration NEVER placed an order of removal between the parents and their children. What is true is that there is no law saying these current atrocities have to be carried out. Crossing the border illegally is a misdemeanor that can get you jailed for up to 20 days or so and then you’re automatically sent to your country of origin. The immigrant parents who are caught with their children are never separated from them and there are no real lasting repercussions. If I was to take your reasoning into account then that would mean people who have had a DUI, or those who have been arrested for public disturbance should have their children taken away as well? Secondly, when the Obama administration implemented certain facilities to house kids it was due to an immense influx of unaccompanied minors who were immigrating to the USA by their damn selves. Most, of these children, were from Central America and were not deemed a threat to the nation after very careful vetting. These kids ranged between the ages of 12-17 years old and they were TEMPORARILY housed or often placed in foster homes with other immigrant adults till the Government could get a hold of their parent. Of course, everything wasn’t always handled perfectly as there were a ton of problems because sometimes the foster parents would refuse to answer their phones to various federally appointed counselors or even gave the Government the wrong information. Some of the facilities in which the children were housed were not as top notch as we expected and there were abuses happening at the time. But by that point, the children were really alone. They didn’t come in with their parents to protect them and sadly things didn’t always go the right way. The few kids who were separated from the adult were either trafficked here or were in deep danger of those adults that surrounded them

They should come here legally if they want to enter the country!

Kathy, you sad simpleton. Looking for Asylum is not against the law. Actually, the ports of entry for refugees are being blocked by ICE agents to deter them from reaching the United States legally. Usually, when an immigrant came to the port of entry looking for asylum they would have to bring proof which then they would be taken to a holding facility where their case was carefully reviewed and then after about a month or so they would either be allowed to stay or leave depending on the severity of their situation. Now, Looking for a way to come to the united states legally especially in countries that are extremely corrupt is very difficult. I myself applied for a visa in order to come to the united states twice and both times it was denied even though I was a 4-year-old child who was about to die of a severe heart condition. If it hadn’t been for a charitable company that had put their name behind me and petitioned for me to travel I would never have even set a foot in the United States and I would never be able to write this because I’d be dead by now. That’s how difficult everything is. The immigration system is so broken and instead of looking for a solution you shining citizens can only proclaim your distaste for a president that hasn’t been in office for over 2 years. Obama, Bush, or Clinton are no longer running the country. Take responsibility for the mistakes YOUR amoral president is making.

But MS-13! 

Ms-13 is a Mexican terrorist group that has been used as a cop out to paint innocent people who are Latino and Hispanic in an unflattering light. Gang members don’t really want to come here, their profit is not here. They are already immensely powerful in Mexico, why leave if things are good for them? It makes no sense and if again I were to take your reasoning into consideration I would say that other countries should never allow an American entry because they could be from the KKK. What makes sense is to have a racist, xenophobic, sexist president using something like gang violence in order to disenfranchise a group of people who don’t match his ideas for the perfect immigrant. Case in point, he very clearly said he would like Europeans (meaning Caucasians) to immigrate here (They wouldn’t. Europe is not perfect but at least it has universal health care among other things.) Mexicans, meaning all Latino because that how you all like to categorize us not realizing that Latinos are very diverse but those of us who are brown in complexion are rapists, killers, we’re infesting the country, we’re bringing disease, we’re animals among other ludicrous things Trump has said about the Latino community and for the record, not all immigrants are Mexican. Most at this point are from Central America. It's the same as not all Asians are Chinese, not all black people are thugs and not all white men who wear penny loafers are entitled pricks who call on their daddies to fix their problems. You see how stereotypes work? Those of you who applaud him while desecrating the flag by wearing it as a shirt or bandana and eating off of flag emblazoned paper plates like to think you’re somehow better and patriotic because you won the lottery by being born here. It’s as simple as that and if you want the immigrants to fix their problems back home maybe tell your government not to meddle in their democratic systems. It’s a cop-out to make yourselves feel better about the atrocities that are happening.  

Build the WALL! 

Yes Brayden, because a wall is gonna stop a bunch of plane riding immigrants to come to the United States. Newsflash, most people who end up here illegally came here legally through a visa but overstayed their welcome. Most of the people who came here otherwise, seek asylum, which is not illegal. There are actually very few people who cross the border illegally and stay here. No one wants to leave their life, culture, and language behind unless it’s absolutely necessary. The wall will stop nothing. Separating kids and now babies from their parents have not deterred the parents from continuing their long arduous trips to the United States. The wall only serves as a trophy for the GOP to pat themselves on the back and say what good little legislators they are. It’s a sign of oppression and a sign of unwelcoming. It’s as if I had a picture of Jesus in my living room but a satanic altar in the next room. It’s counterproductive and we’re the ones who are gonna pay for it. Mexico will pay for nothing even if Trump is holding these children hostages. The procedures are very eerily being carried out in much the same way the Nazi's carried out their atrocities. First, they block all potential legal ways for the marginalized group to carry out their mission legally.  Then, they used false rhetoric and fear monger civilians so that the marginalized group can be dehumanized and therefore easier for the government to carry out whatever it is they are planning without dissent. Then they sanitize the living conditions in which the immigrant group are living in. Finally, they discredit or all accounts that are cited by reputable resources in order to keep the masses confused and ignorant. It's exactly what happened when the Japanese were placed in internment camps.  

Immigrants will never assimilate to our way of life!

Say the people whose grandpappy’s and Nanas never learned English and continued to live their lives the way they did in Poland. English is not a designated American language. No language has been designated to the USA, you morons.

Immigrants should look for a way to legalize their situation.

Ok, how about you fork over $20,000 while working a minimum wage job that you can’t quit from no matter how bad it is because if you do there’s nowhere else for you to work at without breaking the Law. Immigration lawyers are some of the worst wolves in sheep’s clothing I have ever met. I spend about $10,000 just to get a green card while having nowhere else to live but at my Mother in law’s tiny ass house in the middle of the ghetto while pregnant. I slept on the floor with my husband because the place was so small we couldn’t even put a bed in there, much less afford one. When I was about to apply for citizenship my Lawyer up and left after I had paid her the money to file in the citizenship paperwork. She disappeared and I have no way of recuperating my paperwork from her. Thankfully no everything was lost but I am not an isolated incident, there are countless stories of people who have been duped by lawyers and there are more fast food joint in the USA than immigration courthouses. So you guys do the fucking math. It takes so much of you and so long for you to even reach the tip of what American citizens expect from you. 

They broke the law, therefore they should pay the consequences.

We break the law every single day Khayyley, it's not an exaggeration or even something that I'm making up. I live in Connecticut and lord do we have some ridiculous laws like, husbands who cannot kiss their wives on any Sunday. If a cyclist goes above 65 MPH they have be stopped by a police officer and we're not allowed to educate dogs. (lol, what?) Anyway, the point is we don't get citations, incarcerated or even have enforcement carried out for the most menial lawlessness so why should we punish these kids who have done nothing wrong? This used to be the country that was known for checks and balances, the country of separation of church and state. Somewhere along the way, we've lost ourselves and we've become the country of checks and cherry picking. The country that puts babies in cages and we don't allow the staff to offer any comfort. These are not "summer camps" and we shouldn't find a way to sanitize the word cage but we have gone so far off the deep end and our expectations for our leaders are so low that we may as well be licking the ground. These are kids who are screaming for their mothers and fathers who may never see them again just for committing the sin of being born brown, something that they obviously have no control over. It's a harrowing reality but their voices are falling on deaf ears as politicians use the bible to excuse their horrid laws as they smile because they're the ones all cozy with big fat paychecks provided by their citizens. We're duped into thinking that these current politicians have our best interest at heart when in actuality they don't. Just because an abusive parent says they care about you doesn't mean they actually do. The GOP is a cesspool of corrupt, self-serving, amoral group of people with Trump at the head.

 Our Lawmakers are making due with what they were handed.

How, exactly how have we been improving the country? The rich are getting richer while the poor still have to rely on governmental help that is slowly dwindling while those very same poor people have to deal with being called moochers. Our children are dying off at alarming rates because our government wants to continue catering to the NRA's demands as they go about spreading baseless lies and flimsy excuses for mass shootings. Our healthcare system is a fucking joke and we sit idly by as Men in power oppress our women because they don't want to bring a child into a world full of problems that cannot be easily fixed. We cater to our very own terrorists who use the bible in order to justify themselves and call it "freedom of speech" yet we call people color sons of bitches for simply daring to protest peacefully for the flagrant disenfranchisement of his fellow people. We slap the, what about isms and point fingers to others without realizing we're the ones putting them in those positions while simultaneously squashing the education system in order to keep future voters ignorant. Republicans can't be voted in if we have intellectuals willing to question their agendas. It's much easier to have dumb, compliant, narrow-minded morons in order for them to make that money. Can't you see what it is they're doing? They are dehumanizing these people and saying that they're all criminals and or will become criminals in the future so that the white elitists can feel alleviated of all culpability in order for them to be able to sell their soul to the administration that is quietly pocketing civilian's money. Money, that they say will go to charities but never do. It doesn't matter if these kids have television, air conditioners, or even a meal because they have been so traumatized by being ripped apart from their parents that even if they were being housed at the Ritz Carlton the practices would still be inhumane.  

But Trump signed the executive order, stop complaining already.

Wow Tammy, first of all, he didn't need to. Separating children from their parents is not a law, never has been. The separation of children who were accompanied by an adult usually happened if the child was found to have been a product of human trafficking, which by the way, has a very low percentage. Instead, the manner in which these kids are being handled now is more cause for worry because they can fall prey to actual human traffickers. Case in point, the over 1,000 children that were mysteriously lost and haven't been found yet and no one has any clue where or how they might have disappeared. It's insane for you to think that just because these kids are in these prison camps they're somehow being treated correctly. These children only see the light of day for 2 hours and the rest they spend it inside and security measures have been implemented to keep the child from escaping as if they were high-security inmates. They're being treated like prisoners and now they're being forcefully injected with psychiatric drugs in order to keep them from crying. I don't think I need to tell you about the long-term repercussions these drugs can have but I will anyway. It can cause obesity, adult onset diabetes, dizziness, listlessness, and are left incapacitated. Easy prey for any trafficker. it's callously barbaric. These kids are set up for a plethora of mental health problem that will never go away. This new executive order was unnecessary and Trump just needed to feel like a dictator because that's what he truly wants. He doesn't believe in a democracy. He values people like Stalin and Kim Jung Un and insults our allies (sorry Canada!). The paper he signed keeps families together yes, but at the cost of their freedom because they are to be kept in what I would guess to be newly built facilities that will most definitely be paid by us for an indefinite period of time as opposed to deporting them back to their countries after about 20 days. It'll be a real concentration camp and I wouldn't be surprised if gas chambers and fire pits begin to appear all over the United States and all Latino immigrants are rounded up regardless of whether they are legally here or not.

We should worry about our own citizens instead of immigrants who are only a distraction to our own problems. 

You're right up to a point. We should definitely worry about our citizens and maybe worry about our very own problems that plague our nation, yet we don't. We should be working towards implementing Gun control and worrying about human rights abuses towards people of color, but we don't. Instead, we blame those very people that are being needlessly maligned because we'd rather think it's their fault as opposed to us saying that we fucked up, that we cannot do enough to help our own people. Immigrants aren't looking to distract us from our own problems but the GOP sure is using that scapegoat in order to confuse us and turn us into megalomaniacs who claim to care for this country while rationalizing the heinous laws that this administration is implementing. Understand that just because I sympathize with the plight of immigration it doesn't negate my love or even my worries for the problems that are in my country. I love this country and I'm thankful to this country for all its wonderful opportunities. I believe we can be better and I don't think we're perfect but we're definitely capable of being great indeed. It was before and I'm sure we can be now and in the future.

   Listen, all I’m trying to really say is that the things that are happening are beyond horrible and at such an alarming speed that I am scared for the future of my country. This president is giving a pathway for all the fascists to wave their flag and complain about how they suffer at the cost of people they refuse to understand or even get to know. It's giving way for racists to be open about their disgusting assumptions by calling it honesty, and "well I'm just telling it like it is, and everyone else was thinking it, anyway". 

Just like President Snow from the Hunger Games, Trump is using children to shield himself and get what he wants. This is no longer a, “I wonder what a dystopian future would be like.” situation we are there already. This is the Handmaid’s Tale. This the Hunger Games. This is Nazi Germany, and the trail of tears coming to fruition all over again and we’re allowing it. So, come November if you do not vote blue and later regret not doing so then it will be entirely your fault that this once great country will crumble and burn to the ground with only the ashes to left as a reminder of what it once was. Our founding fathers would ashamed of us and we should too. Have a little humanity and compassion but if you're not capable of that, at least know that your stance will follow not just you but your entire lineage till the end of time just like the Nazi regime was because you are most definitely on the wrong side of history.

[it-goes-both-ways]

Over the last few years I've been posting more and more of my actual views, which I'm not exactly ashamed of but realise they're not so much unpopular opinions as downright rejected ones. I pretty much know why I have them, I'm aware of my biases and make every effort to restrict them to words, not allowing them to affect my relationships or treatment of others, restricting the hyperbole and rants to this blog and my long suffering partner. Unfortunately I seem to attract the worst kind of women in real life, which is not at all helping. Every time I reveal something I worry about being rejected, told I'm a monster, a failure, a disgrace, an embarrassment, but each and every time I've gotten nothing but acceptance. I am greatly honoured by your support thus far, for tolerating my increasingly frustrated outbursts and hope I won't push you away with this, but it's been all consuming for almost my whole life, and part of “cleaning up my room” is putting all that baggage out there to be scrutinised and hopefully understood, sometimes all that is needed is a willing ear, suppression only breeding resentment and isolation.

All the bullshit feminism has caused, from protesting the male pill and shutting down shared parenting efforts to the Duluth model and erasing men who are raped by women or by counting them under "violence against women" stats to boost the female victim numbers. Mary Koss, the progenitor of the 1 in 5/4/3/-69/ π r2 stat claiming that it's "inappropriate" to consider male victims of forceful envelopment by women as they are merely ambivalent about their own desires. Lobbying for laws that regard mutually drunk sexual encounters as automatically rape by men, underage consensually sexually active couples (even if they're months away from age of consent or the girl is older) as child rape on the part of the boy, guilty until proven innocent, accusation is the evidence, kangaroo courts, sentencing discounts on top of the preexisting bias which causes a 63% disparity and difference in treatment to the point where if you take every step of the justice system into account the crime rate is pretty damned even (with women often using proxy violence so they have plausible deniability, and avoid responsibility/physical risk). Treating women as the definitive victims of prostitution no matter which side of the transaction they're on. Banning men from charity fundraising events, transpeople only allowed if they provide evidence that they are biologically female. Having the NHS class women choosing to have genital piercings as being victims of female genital mutilation, while male genital mutilation performed at birth is not so much as frowned upon let alone illegal by any single country on the entire twatting planet. In fact you can buy some baby foreskins if you want to, or rub them on your face, the target market being protected from the very process that brought them their anti-ageing face cream, complaining that it costs more than men's moisturiser.

The innate gynocentrism of humanity has always led to women being their top priority, now even above children, it tries to pander, and acquiesce to their every demand while being told it hates them. The cases like the woman who filmed herself raping her own baby and getting the oh so harsh sentence of community bloody service and house arrest. The "poor, neglected" woman whose husband had become distant from her (wonder why) so she raped her son's friend, whose punishment was being banned from his school, which she considered too harsh as she missed her son's graduation. An audience of hundreds of normal regular women cheering and celebrating a man being drugged by his wife, who then cut off his penis and threw it in the "garbage disposal" permanently destroying it, just for asking for a divorce (can't think why he'd want to leave), despite no further context it was declared "fabulous" to the ecstatic jubilation of the empathetic sex. There's the idea that men commit the vast majority of rapes while calling female teachers "seducing" their students mere trysts, shameful liaisons that do not deserve prison, female prison guards committing the overwhelming majority of rape of male children and youths in juvenile detention (89%), among other women who rape men and boys (my own mother being one of them), this in addition to the rape rate among female prisoners being 3 times that of male ones, not a single damned thing is done about the propagation of the bullshit narrative. Somehow the fact that female rapists tend to target children is irrelevant because male ones target adult women, and "you don't see women going around raping adult men" (even though the stats are still around 50/50 because it's a human problem, unless those women are exhibiting toxic masculinity or something). There's the 10,000 men and boys slaughtered in their schools by Boko Haram while girls were released and allowed to go home, the boys being set on fire, their throats slit, or shot if trying to escape, no one giving the slightest hint of the merest ghost of a toss, until they realised that they weren't getting the attention they craved so they kidnapped girls, causing an international outcry and the media/celebrities changing their motivation from "eradicate western education" to "oppress women and stop them getting an education". There's the refusal by both the left and the right to look beyond the plight of women when it comes to Islam, they not only ignore the laws which oppress men, but declare those men the "real" misogynist patriarchal oppressors and innately sociopathic rapists. There's the refusal to recognise that women are a part of society and have far more influence than anyone wants to admit. There's Muslim men's obligation towards women, the segregation in Saudi where they have many public places from which men are banned unless accompanied by a female family member, where they'll be arrested for accompanying a woman to whom he is not related while the woman is merely sent home, where men face potentially fatal consequences for the same "crimes". Where homeless boys in Pakistan are pretty much guaranteed to be repeatedly raped day after day.

Then in my own life, being 6 or 7 years old, my sister 8 or 9 and told to stay put as our Reliant Robin went up in flames, having to be pulled out by a stranger, a man, because we were more afraid of disobeying than of burning to death, mother not even sparing us a glance as she grieved the loss of her car, later keeping it in the garden like some sort of shrine. Around the same year, at an LRP event (Lorien Trust's The Gathering), being left in the tent alone late at night and going to look for her, finding her on top of an unconscious man, she at least picked up on the fact that I was revelling in her severe hangover the next morning. Sneaking downstairs one night to see the aftermath of one of her "encounters", the man was broken, so started my extreme protectiveness of men and distrust of women, to the point of being called a gender traitor for the first time at around 7 years old by my 60+ year old year 1 teacher (who also wouldn't allow me to use left handed scissors or to write left handed, unwittingly making me ambidextrous. Being left with a violent babysitter who made me sleep under the table, or on the floor beside her bed (despite having 4 bloody beds), who wouldn't let me eat since burning the toast, beat me for asking for a glass of water and wouldn't even allow me to drink out of the tap, she once threw me in a wheely bin and poured dishwater over me, mother was in the garden just a few doors down, yet did nothing. She’d always try and get her boyfriends to beat us but they always just laughed it off (they’d put up with abuse themselves but never lasted long after she started bringing us into it), one in particular was into BDSM and later got mother a job as a dominatrix (she was disappointed by our complete lack of surprise), and even he had to draw the line at demonstrating how sexual intercourse works to his girlfriend’s 6 and 8 year old daughters.

My sister and I as little more than toddlers, mother putting our onesies on backwards so we couldn't take them off, having to go to the loo with them still on. Having the door handles put on upside down so that we couldn't reach up enough to open it to get to the loo so we ended up pissing ourselves. Having a daily diet of four slices of bread and the cheapest of generic vegetable spread as we weren't allowed mother's butter, being starved as punishment or just because she felt like it (having won custody of us only to spite dad), leading to malabsorption and osteoarthritis at the grand old age of twenty bloody six (3 years ago now), once a week we got an actual meal. Being around 8 or 9, visiting my auntie who was in hospital after having a stroke, having already had MS she was left paralysed, just 23 years old, granddad put together a system for her to speak by grouping letters and having her blink once for the stated grouping or letter or twice for basically undo. I gave her my only teddy which I carried everywhere, a stuffed donkey I got from Spain, she kept it. Staying in her house, continuing my habit of accidentally setting fire to the toaster, being left alone most of the night and going to look for mother in the village pub, finding her in one of her drinking competitions, walking in and vagblocking her, much to her frustration and anger. Being treated like a replacement husband, even trying to talk me into having a sex change despite only mild dysphoria, which was later greatly lessened by having an implant which stopped periods, eliminating most of the feeling of wrong (most cases of sex change regret are people who were abused, either treated like shit for their biological sex, treated as if they are opposite sex, or sexual abuse). Hearing about how the only way she'd get any when she was with dad was when he was asleep. Why did he end up dying a slow, agonising death while she gets to carry on regardless? Asking me about who I liked, later discovering exactly why she wanted to know, a man I care about was raped because I didn’t pick up on her ulterior motives. Having mother and her friends try to teach me to manipulate men, get them to pay for me, trying to turn me into a gold digger, only making me hate them even more. Coming of age (16), no longer eligible for child benefit, mother having been visiting friends more and more often until she didn't come back, only finding out that she'd been gradually moving out when we got the eviction order.

I'd been training myself to eventually join the army from the age of 5, once when I was 6 mother had asked me to go to the supermarket to get a bag of potatoes, she usually got a 20kg sack, must have taken me an hour to get it home, a man helping me carry it some of the way. When I finally enlisted I had to stop taking codeine for the malabsorption, it wasn't as much of a problem if I was eating every day (I usually forget as my body had been conditioned by neglect, not even bothering to remind me to eat any more), my hips had always made crunching and cracking sounds when I move, but as my body adjusted to the lack of codiene the pain became unbearable, upon being diagnosed with osteoarthritis I had to give up any hope of ever being a soldier, I've lost my purpose, and have nothing to replace it with, couldn't even work a whole shift when I got a factory job, humiliating, I'd informed the woman of my condition and she'd assured me that it was just a machinist job. It wasn't. It was everything you shouldn't do if you have any sort of hip problems. I'd never felt such agony and I'd fractured my bloody skull (at an LRP event). The woman was such a nasty bitch about it, she went from compassionate and understanding to mocking me for being upset that I was so damned useless now. I offered to forfeit my pay but her colleague, who also had arthritis and could no longer work the floor, was obviously far more genuinely empathetic than the woman, my brief boss was also sympathetic and even paid for a taxi to take me home after I refused an ambulance. The pain didn't subside for days.

I've never had a female friend who hasn't betrayed me, my "best friend" in school found it hilarious to punch me in the back in the middle of class, causing me to yell inadvertently as the air was knocked out of me. In year 8 the other kids stepped up their game and went from throwing stones to a house brick, when I got back to school she asked where the stitches were, just so she could punch me and reopen the wound. I was never allowed to retaliate, it would always be me who would be threatened with expulsion even if I only snapped after years of beatings which everyone knew was happening. Every birthday the other kids would falsely accuse me of something so I'd have to spend break times stood outside the headmaster's office, the equivalent of the stocks. Whether it was asperger's making me so unlikeable or if I genuinely am just a massive thundercunt, I never found out what I did to provoke them. Every time I put my trust in a woman it gets thrown in my face. My neighbour decided she was my best friend for life and would call at all hours of the day and night to get me to pick up her bloody methadone twice a bloody week, go to the chippy at 11 o'bloody clock at night, she's always trying to get me to take the pills she buys off a disabled neighbour. There are three things I refuse to take, hormones, anti-depressants, and sleeping tablets and she's always trying to get me to take them. The last straw was when her husband, who I got on very well with and whom she abused constantly, died, I told her to be careful what she wished for. When I finally called her out on using me she leapt immediately to the "after all I've done for you" bollocks.

Time after bloody time it's the same damned story, even regular everyday normal women will talk about things that would get a man arrested or at least publicly lambasted, that erections equal consent, that MGM is not at all a violation of the right to bodily autonomy, that it's absolutely fine and dandy to hit your male partner only to call the police if he defends himself, that female paedophiles shouldn't be punished because boys always want sex no matter what age they are but girls mature younger, right the way back to "We should have the vote but not have to pay with our lives as men had to in their millions while we shamed men and even underage boys into doing the same". What terrified me as a child was women's ability to completely turn off their empathy, the "woman scorned" is seen as karmic justice, there are people defending even the most brutal crimes:  assault, murder, rape, mutilation, over something as minor as rejection, or an accidental drive by fart, or just the crime of being a man who wanted a divorce. Empathetic sex my absolute arse.

A fellow MRA publicly humiliated Adam on a livestream when we went to the men's day march and conference, we were staying in an air B&B, Adam and Will Styles still riding the high of giving their first speeches, only for the woman to dredge up shit that was no one's bloody business and ruin the whole mood for no bloody reason, she also attacked 6oodfella on one of the hangouts. Another one was giving private information, with a vicious twist, poisoning the community against one of our group, Paul Elam didn't want to get involved and Janice Fiamengo immediately cut ties, treating him like a bloody criminal, what the hell did the woman say to her? I could see the Woolly Bumblebee thing coming a mile off, I worry whenever youtubers I like get girlfriends because they seem to either completely change or disappear, like Spino and Bread and Circuses respectively. I'm suspicious of female MRAs, I don't want to be but often even the sane ones are just tradcons. If it weren't for the Honeybadgers and you lot I'd have no hope at all.

The constant stream of "toxic masculinity", oppression, patriarchy, of women complaining that their air conditioned (which is also bloody sexist somehow), seated jobs at a till are paid less than the men (and women but they're not going to mention that) carrying heavy boxes, driving forklifts, working in a cold warehouse, and risking serious injury or death infinitely more than they ever will. The selfishness, solipsism, and sociopathy is too much. Throughout history women have never cared about men aside from ones they have a bond with, have never appreciated a damned thing men have done yet they demand that men prioritise them. Why should they?

I’ve seen and experienced the worst examples of female nature in action, “toxic femininity” if you will, and the difference in reaction to it, never being believed as a child no matter how many times I begged other family members and even strangers to please let me live with them instead, I’ll sleep in a tent, look I brought it with me. Pathetic, but you’d have thought someone would have cottoned on. I'm not going down the anti-women route as my sister has, given her own treatment of her partners and her own admission, she’s not so much pro male as anti-female, but it’s increasingly difficult not to resent them even if everything has a biological explanation. I still defend women if the facts bear it out, even if I don’t necessarily agree on a personal level, reals over feels, the people I agree with most also being female has definitely helped me not fall over the edge, one of whom feels very much as I do to the point where she doesn’t consider herself to be a woman due to her own observations and experiences. But the longer this goes on, the more laws are changed, media is poisoned, speech is suppressed, how the hell do I stop myself from just giving up entirely? How on earth can I stop myself from becoming an all out misogynist? Because it is women, not just feminists. It’s female nature being allowed to go unchecked, even when the same happens with male nature women are still prioritised. There are exceptions on both sides but it’s not enough to change the overall trend. There’s never been a balance, and because of human nature there never will be, which is where the problem lies. I know there’s no hope, that it’s utterly futile, completely pointless, and it’s driving me more towards extremism. I completely understand why we’ve lost so many MRAs to suicide. But I’m still going, even if the only way to make even the slightest change is to appeal to female self interest I’ll still do it. Everything I’ve been passionate about throughout my life is a pointless endeavour, I can’t stop myself from caring or change my fundamental character, it’s a downward spiral and there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do about it.

[smoaking-greenarrow]

Prompt from @kk1986 on A03:

 “First of all....loveyour writing! So tumblr was mean and I had difficulties leaving a prompt. So taking my chances on here. Could you do a Drabble about Felicity early season 2 ( before Russia and Sara) or late season 1....and Felicity needing to become her alter ego in the cyber world to solve a mystery? I just feel like if Oliver saw Goth Felicity....and the badass she is/the near worship of her skills from others- it would completely change his whole view on Felicity. She no longer would be the innocent sweet girl, but a woman that is a force of nature who had to hide her true self after a tragic event....something you know Oliver may relate to.

I just think it would have been so cool to see, because I feel it would have changed everything in their dynamic throughout the series. Gotta love ripples with one plot change.”

Part 1: The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most

Oliver glanced up from Felicity’s computer screen as he heard the door open and her heels clicking down the stairs. She frowned when she noticed him. “You’re in my chair. And you’re touching my computers.” She looked at Diggle across the room and narrowed her eyes at him. “I told you not to let him do that anymore.” She whined.

Oliver sighed, throwing a glare at her. “We have a problem. Someone attacked Laurel last night.”

“Oh my god,” Felicity said, stepping towards them. “Is she okay?” She asked, taking her coat off. “What happened?”

“His name is Lonnie Machin.” Oliver explained.

 Felicity froze. 

“He tried to grab Laurel when she was coming out of the courthouse. He said that Laurel could help him find something.” Oliver stared at the screen, “But I need to find him first.” Felicity still hadn’t moved but he didn’t notice, tapping away at the keys. “I was hoping you could work your magic, Felicity, and get me some information on him.” Oliver huffed, annoyed at the computers that he still struggled to operate. “Laurel got away, but she’s a little bit banged up. She’s staying with her dad until we can locate Machin.”

“Felicity?” Diggle asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he stepped towards her. Her purse hung in her frozen hand where she was about to drop it on the table. She stared at Oliver, her eyes wide and vacant. Dig’s tone made Oliver glance up at him, and then at Felicity. They both moved toward her. “Felicity, what is it?”

Her head felt a little lighter, probably because she hadn’t taken a breath since she heard his name. Her gaze fell to the screen as Oliver stood up, a picture of Lonnie Machin displayed on the monitor. “I know what he’s looking for.” She whispered, unable to pry her eyes away from the face that had haunted her dreams for years.

Oliver and John shared a look, and then Diggle was blocking her view of the photo, his face right in front of hers. “Hey,” he mumbled, taking her face in his hands. “Hey, look at me. Look at me, Felicity.” Her blurry vision focused on Dig’s eyes, and she inhaled deeply. “Breathe.” he said softly, taking a breath in himself. She released hers as he did. 

She took one more deep breath for good measure, and then she looked at Oliver. “He’s looking for me.” She mumbled, water filling her eyes. Oliver cocked his head to the side in confusion, and John’s hands froze where they were on her face. She glanced back and forth between them, trying to blink away the tears. “He’s looking for me.” She whispered. “He found me.”

Diggle led her to her chair and guided her to sit down. Oliver knelt down in front of her. “Who is he, Felicity?”

“I dated him my freshman year of college.” She said, her eyes flickering back to the screen. “He’s...he’s a psychopath.” she said, biting her lip. “I went out with him twice. And then he started showing up everywhere I went. I’d see him when I walked to class, when I came home, at my favorite coffee shop. He would just watch me. And I tried to ignore him.” She sniffled, her voice breaking, “I didn’t want it to be real. I tried to ignore it. I told myself there was no way that it was happening.”

“He was stalking you.” Oliver said, his voice tightening, his eyes growing dark and violent. 

“He followed me around for weeks. But he never touched me or even tried to speak to me. I went to Campus Police but they said that if the most of my problems was a kid who ‘happened’ to be in the same place as me, then that was the least of their problems.”

Oliver’s brows pushed together. “They didn’t help you?”

“Not until three months later. Lonnie finally talked to me. I was running late for class, but I needed coffee before dealing with Mr. Gilbert’s lecture, because it was literally the most boring class of my college career and caffeine was an essential part of my survival that semester, and every semester, actually-”

“Felicity.”

“Right. I was behind schedule. And I think that made Lonnie on edge. When I came out of the coffee shop, he was on the street. He asked me where I’d been. He said he’d been worried about me and told me never to do something like that again.”

Oliver put a hand on her knee. “What happened?”

Felicity sighed, “I told him that he was crazy. He got upset. He started yelling at me. Calling me a whore, screaming that I was all he had, that he’d given me everything and I was a heartless bitch for taking it all. He pinned me against the wall on Fifth Ave, where six different witnesses called the police.”

“And that was the last time you saw him?” John asked.

Felicity shook her head, and Oliver’s hand tightened on her knee. “I went to class, and then I went to my friend’s dorm room. I didn’t want to be alone, but I told myself to suck it up. I had an early morning, none of my things, and I needed sleep. So I went back to my house. The police were looking for him and told me that he was probably miles away from town...they thought for sure that he was spooked out of town. They underestimated his obsession. And so did I.” Felicity lifted her shoulder, her eyes brimming with tears again. “He was waiting for me in the dark.”

She heard Oliver’s breath hitch, John’s grumbled threat. She slammed her eyes shut so she didn’t have to look at them when she told them the rest. “He had a knife. I managed to hide from him for almost an hour before the cops showed up.” 

“You found a way to call them?” Dig asked.

She sighed, “No. The neighbors heard me screaming.”

Felicity stood, keeping her eyes closed and feeling Oliver’s body inches from hers. “Screaming?” Oliver asked, his voice low. Felicity took a deep breath. She lifted her shirt up and opened her eyes, needing to see their reaction. 

John and Oliver both glanced down to her stomach. Diggle swore, putting his hands on his head and stepping away. Oliver kept his reaction more controlled. His eyes lingered on her bare stomach, his jaw tensing and his shoulders growing stiff. His eyes trailed back up to hers and all she saw was pure rage staring back at her. “He did this to you?” Oliver asked through his teeth, gesturing to Machin’s picture.

Felicity swallowed and nodded once. “When I woke up in the hospital, it took me months to recover physically. And twice as long to recover mentally and emotionally. But even as the doctors told me that I was healed, even as the therapists and the shrinks cleared me to return to my normal life...these eight scars were a huge blow to my self-esteem. They were a constant reminder of him.” Felicity glanced at her computers, “I hated myself almost as much as I hated him.”

Both of the men watched her for a long moment. “Why didn’t I find anything about this when I did a background check on you?” Oliver asked.

Felicity sighed, “I erased it all from any records tied to my name. He still has a criminal record, but I wanted to forget. I spent the rest of my time at MIT being the girl who almost got murdered by a psychopath. I didn’t want to be known as that girl anymore. So I moved out here...I changed everything about myself, and I pretended it never happened. It works. Until I look at these scars.”

“Felicity...” Oliver took her hand that she hadn’t known she’d been gripping her stomach with. He shook his head slightly, like he wanted to say a handful of things but wouldn’t let any of them out.

She forced a smile, “Or until he comes to town and tries to hurt your friend’s ex-girlfriend to find you.” Felicity pulled her hand out of Oliver’s, pulling her shirt down and sitting in her chair. She cleared her throat and started her process of finding him. “Luckily for us, I hacked into every police station within a fifty mile radius from Starling, Vegas, and Cambridge, and set up red flag alerts if Machin causes any trouble. He’s been laying low ever since my attack. Or he found a new place. I haven’t gotten a hit off of him since his arrest.”

“How can we find him now?”

“I’ll look through security footage from the courthouse and see if I can find out where he went after Laurel scared him off. And then I’ll find his bank information to see if we can find out what he’s planning.”

Oliver nodded, leaning over her chair to watch the monitors. “Felicity,” he started hesitantly. She kept at her task, not turning to look at him. “What happened to Machin, after he...”

She glanced at him now. Then she sighed, keeping her eyes on his. “I got revenge, Oliver. I put him on the No-Fly list. I got him onto the Most Wanted list. I made it impossible for him to find a good job, or buy a house, and then I drained his bank accounts and took everything he had. I ruined his life.”

Oliver nodded seriously. He put his hand on her shoulder, “Good.”

“Are you sure that this is where Machin is?” Oliver asked, his green hood and arrows in place as he stalked through the abandoned warehouse.

“Yes,” Felicity said in his ear. “The traffic cameras show him turning the corner of Broadway and then he disappears. It’s the only place he could have gone.”

“I hear something.” Oliver said. She could hear his uneven breath as he began to run. “John, second floor.”

“On it.” John started to run too, and Felicity closed her eyes as she listened to their footsteps pounding up the stairs. She held on tightly to her desk. “He’s on the roof,” Diggle mumbled, his voice low. “I saw him running up there.”

“I’ll be there in one minute.” Oliver huffed, his footsteps moving faster. 

There was a pause, the only sounds coming from Oliver’s feet. “John?” Felicity asked.

“Diggle, wait for me.” Oliver demanded. He rushed up the steps to the roof, his bow raised. “Lonnie Machin.” Oliver growled, seeing the man they’d been trying to find for three days. Machin stared right through Oliver, a knife at John’s throat.

“Drop the knife.” Oliver said harshly. “Or I will put you down.”

“Where is Felicity Smoak?” Machin seethed, sending shivers up Felicity’s spine. She hadn’t heard his voice since he was pleading with her to come out of her hiding spot in her closet at MIT. 

“Machin,” Oliver said through his teeth, “I promise you...you will never lay a hand on Felicity Smoak again. You will never even look at her.”

Machin laughed, and Oliver aimed his arrow at his forehead, right between the eyes. “I’ll find her. I know I must be close if even the vigilantes are coming out to play.”

“This is over!” Oliver yelled, “Drop it!”

“Not. Until. I. Have. Her.” 

“Stay away from Felicity.” Oliver growled.

Lonnie Machin cocked his head to the side, “You’re fond of her, are you, archer?” Oliver clenched his jaw, waiting for the right moment to shoot. Machin laughed again, a deranged, unstable sound, “I can’t blame you. Felicity is a special girl. I miss her...I bet she’s just dying to see me again, too. Tell her I’ll see her soon.”

Machin smirked, and Oliver fired an arrow at his head. Machin dodged, ducking behind John. Then in one swift motion, as Oliver reloaded his bow, Machin sunk his knife into Diggle’s chest. 

Oliver fired three more arrows as he ran towards his friend and Machin ran towards the edge of the roof. Diggle gripped his chest, holding onto the base of the knife where Machin had pushed the whole blade through. “Go!” He yelled at Oliver.

With John being conscious, Oliver ran to the ledge of the building as Machin climbed it. 

Without hesitation, he threw himself over the edge. he held his arms out and jumped, soaring off the building and towards the ground. It was too foggy on the rooftop to see where Machin landed, and Oliver sighed. 

Rushing back over to John, he was relieved to note exactly where the blade had landed. Not in the heart. That was all that could matter at the moment. “Ready?” Oliver asked, knowing that John would understand.

“Do it.” Dig said, taking a deep breath and clenching his jaw. 

Oliver grabbed the knife and pulled it out, immediately applying pressure to the wound. “We need to get you patched up.”

“No. You need to go.”

“Where?” Oliver asked, holding on to John’s wound. He flinched in pain.

“Felicity!”

“Machin just hurled himself off a building, John.”

“Oliver.” Diggle seethed, “Do you really think Machin would jump if he didn’t have a safe place to land? Go! Find Felicity!”

Oliver hesitated. “I need to get you to a hospital before you bleed out!”

“Call the police on your way! Tell them that you saw a mugging on the roof. Just go!”

Oliver nodded once, pressing the button that Felicity added to his suit, “Felicity?” He asked. When he didn’t get an answer, he felt his heart rate pick up. “Felicity, are you there?”

Cursing, Oliver checked on Dig one more time, seeing that he was applying pressure himself and still conscious, he took off towards the foundry. He called for an ambulance for Diggle, and then he called Felicity over and over until he was running down the stairs. “Felicity!” He screamed, his eyes darting around the empty room. 

Nothing looked out of place. Even her things were gone. Her chair was pushed in. Her monitors black as if she’d shut them off for the night. Oliver took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He had one split second where he let himself hope that she had just gone home. But he knew her. She would never leave in the middle of a mission like that; not with the people she cares about on top of a roof trying to catch the man who’d hurt her. 

He slammed his fists into the table. The worst part was that he didn’t know what to do next. He’d spent so long demanding that he was alone...when he’d never actually been. But standing there, without John and without Felicity...he felt lonely for the first time since he’d met them. Truly alone. For the first time, he felt lost. And he had to fight the knot in his stomach telling him that something very bad was about to happen.

She opened her eyes to straps on her hands, her vision hazy. The only light in the dank smelling room came from a dim lamp in the corner. “Well hello there, Sleeping Beauty. You had quite a nap. Must have needed it after all that socializing you do with the Hood and his buddy. Don’t you know that you could do better than that? I know what a fighter you are, Felicity. You deserve someone who can keep up with you, someone who can challenge you.”

“Where am I?”

“It should have been me. You ran away. You ruined my life. And I only loved you so much more for that.”

“You tried to kill me!” Felicity yelled, yanking at the bands that restrained her. “You deserved everything I did to you and so much more. I should have made sure that you spent the rest of your life rotting in a jail cell.”

Machin smiled, “I love your passion for me.”

Felicity scoffed, “You’re sick.”

“That’s what they keep telling me!” He sang, “But I feel great. That’s the perk of being criminally insane; no jail cells, just psych wards.” He rolled his eyes, “Therapy, and medications, and doctors, and blah blah blah.”

Felicity glared at him, “Let me go.”

“I don’t like the blonde hair on you, Felicity. I preferred you in college. You had this...darkness about you. It drew me to you.” He shrugged, “Anyway, I expect your boyfriend will be looking for you, so let’s get to it.”

Machin stepped towards her and she flinched. Taking the hem of her shirt, he lifted it to her chest. He inhaled, closing his eyes before leaning in to examine her scars. “I’ve pictured this every night since we lost each other. I imagined most of it healed,” he glanced up at her, offering her a twisted smile, “But I knew I’d left some reminders of me.”

Felicity spat at his face. 

Machin froze, and then he wiped the spit from his forehead and cheek. “Just as ruthless as ever, Felicity. Fearless! I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed.” He looked back down at her scars. “Now,” he said, pulling out a knife from his back pocket. “Let’s make some new memories.”

“Lonnie...Lonnie, please,” Felicity said, shying away from him as much as she could. “I can help you. I can get you the help that you need.”

“Oh, no Felicity. Nothing can help me! They tried and they tried to fix me...to convince me that our love wasn’t real. But I never gave up on you. I’ve been dreaming about this for six years.” He toyed with the knife in his hands, “Now let me remind you why I was better to you than The Hood ever was. I feel sorry for him really. I was your first love! And you know what they say. You never forget your first love.”

Felicity took a deep breath. “He’ll find you. And when he does, you’ll be the one I feel sorry for.”

Lonnie pressed his knife against her stomach, drawing a new line, and Felicity screamed. It was shallow and long, a different pain than her previous scars, which were small, deep stabs. Sometimes when she really got herself worked up, she could still feel the pain of it, right where the scars still were. She glanced down at herself, seeing her blood dripping down her skin and staining her skirt. She felt her vision getting blurry, her head feeling light and she cried, trying to plead with him to stop.

He smiled at her, “I’ve missed that sound.” 

Felicity tried to catch her breath. 

“Isn’t this the part where you tell me that your boyfriend is going to kill me for this?” He asked, smug as he stared at the knife, covered in her blood.

Felicity narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain on her body. “No. I’m going to kill you myself, Lonnie.”

Machin stepped closer, staring into her eyes. She refused to look away, despite the countless nightmares that his cold, psychotic stare had caused. He held his finger up to her, “Pinky swear?”

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[oselatra]

'Protect and serve' vs. 'patrol and control' in Little Rock

As the Little Rock Police Department has increased traffic stops to crack down on crime, it says the stops can also be part of community policing. Other say it's akin to stop-and-frisk.

One night in November, LaJoy Person did not use her blinker when making a left turn, and then noticed a Little Rock Police car following her. She waited for officers to pull her over, maybe give her a ticket, but they just trailed. "[They] even waited on me to stop at a stop sign [and] didn't turn on their lights," she remembered. Only when Person arrived at her destination, a white shotgun house just south of Interstate 630 where her friend Dexter Porter has a home office, did blue lights flash.

Porter, who had been expecting Person to arrive to lend him a textbook, saw the lights and peeked out the window of the home. He's grown used to being stopped on his street. "I'm numb to it," he said. He can remember at least five times in the past couple of years he's been pulled over for random stops and searches of his car. But he did not expect to see Person pulled over. "I was kind of surprised she was pulled over, because she's such a known helper in the community," he said. Person, 39, has been, among other things, a substitute teacher for 10 years, a member of a neighborhood association, an AAU men's basketball coach (some call her "Coach Momma"), a door-to-door community aide to help residents get on health insurance, a volunteer for homeless aid organizations and a mother to three boys. Person and Porter are both studying to be insurance agents, hence the textbook.

As one officer approached Person's window and another took up a position at the back right side of Person's car, Porter decided he'd pretend to take out some trash, walk in front of his house and activate a motion-sensor light so he could watch. He wanted to make sure he could keep an eye on the stop. Person noticed Porter, but focused on the officer at her window. The officer asked Person what she was doing in that neighborhood and for her registration. After explaining herself and handing over some papers, Person looked behind her and in Porter's light she was able to see fully the other officer hovering at the rear of her car.

"I saw a [female officer] out on the right side with her gun out," Person said. "The gun was literally out." Porter confirmed this. "[The officer] had pulled her weapon from her holster, but had it down," he said. For 15 minutes Porter watched as the stop continued: the female officer's gun out but down, the other officer questioning Person, and blue lights spinning through the darkness of his neighborhood.

The stop ended with the police officers giving Person a warning. It was, in some ways, just another of many routine police traffic stops. But it had a big effect on Person. "It really made me mad, because he pulled me over for really no reason. Why [were] they trailing me for no reason?"

"I've always been doing community work," she said. "But [the police] don't look at me like that; they look at my car." Person — who describes her car as "not nice" — did not forget to use her blinker: It's broken, one of many problems with the vehicle she can't afford to repair. Police "were just assuming because of how my car looked that I was a no good person or something," she said. "It felt like they wanted me to do something more than just not signal."

Such stops are called pretextual or investigative stops, in which officers use petty traffic violations — a broken tail light, expired registration tags, failing to use a blinker — as a means to inspect those they deem suspicious and possibly uncover more serious crimes. Officers hope to find a gun or drugs, leading to an arrest. More often they find a driver like Person and offer a warning.

In Little Rock, Person's story is becoming common, and so is the frustration. Since Aug. 18, the Little Rock Police Department has been paying 45 patrol officers overtime to conduct increased patrols. The move came after a violent summer in the city. By July, Little Rock had 42 homicides, the same number as the entirety of 2016. (At the end of the year, there had been 55 homicides.) On July 1, 25 people were shot — none fatally — during a concert at the Power Ultra Lounge nightclub, inspired, police said, by a dispute between "rival groups."

The suspected cause of the mass shooting underlined a cruel regularity to the rising violence. Soon officials launched task forces and made promises to crank up the federal prosecution of drug kingpins and to address problems of poverty and unemployment and prisoner re-entry, all long-term goals to curb the root causes of crime. But, in the meantime, with national news outlets evoking again the narrative of a gang war in Little Rock (a situation in the '90s that still casts a pall over the city), the public demanded immediate action from the police force.

It was in that context that the LRPD began, in August, requiring patrol officers to work an extra four-hour shift once (and a few twice) a week on top of their 40 hours to increase patrols. During a normal shift, a dispatcher directs patrol officers to 911 calls or other reported incidents. This leaves little time to do anything other than responsive policing. During the overtime shift, patrol officers roam neighborhoods that police intelligence has shown have high crime and conduct traffic stops in large volumes. Overtime pay, from implementation to Dec. 8, cost $970,434.

Critics have compared these investigative stops to stop-and-frisk, New York's controversial policy of stopping people on the street to question and pat them down, often with only a police officer's suspicion as a motive. As with stop-and-frisk, proponents of the policy say it's a valid tool to keep down crime. Opponents say it targets communities of color and treats innocent people like criminals.

But in Little Rock, the debate has taken on a new dimension. The LRPD calls the many warning stops — when a pullover does not lead to an arrest or ticket — an opportunity for community policing, part of the department's proactive strategy to create an amicable working relationship with the public to tamp down crime.

***

When top officers in the LRPD suggested at a public meeting, held Nov. 6 at the Willie Hinton Center on 12th Street, that increased patrols could serve as a way to improve community relations, few bought it.

Ward 2 City Director Ken Richardson had called the meeting after hearing complaints from residents like Person about the stops. Richardson had earlier sent emails to fellow directors and city administrators about the increased patrols. Under the heading "Crisis In our Community," Richardson wrote, "Our police/community relationships are horrible at best and insulting and offensive at worst." He said he'd seen "single car traffic stops [with] 4 or 5 [police] units committed" and that he'd been told by people who'd been stopped that "officers were insulting, condescending ... dealing with the community members."

But Assistant Chief Hayward Finks told the dozen or more people who attended meeting that he heard from residents every day, too, mainly those complaining about the crime. Since police began the increased patrols, he said, calls reporting gunshots fired had declined by 32 percent. He also said situations in which warnings were given, as with Person, allowed for "constructive contact." Police had only used force twice amid thousands of stops, Finks said. He said officers were respectful and that giving warnings was a way to keep crime down and to interact with community members.

Person was taken aback by Finks' logic when she heard it. "That's not community policing. How is that community policing? Nobody wants to get pulled over, no matter what community you're in," she said. "It feels like stereotyping to me. ... What was I learning from this, that I can die today, for nothing? ... That's not making me feel good or comfortable. ... That's not community policing. How is that community policing? ... If every time they pulling you over the gun is out?"

After the meeting, Richardson said the idea that investigative traffic stops were community policing was "crazy."

"How do you build a relationship by randomly pulling over people?" Richardson asked. "That's not community policing. That's random stops."

Pulaski County Circuit Judge Wendell Griffen, who had been sitting in the back of the meeting room, echoed Richardson's sentiments.

"It is dumbfounding that the Little Rock Police Department would come out and brag about doing a rolling stop-and-frisk exercise and say, 'Look, this is how we're going to do community policing,' " he said after the meeting. "So we're not going to do community policing, we're going to roll up on people and stop them. ... but, be nice about it? And this is going to be the way we establish trust and build positive relationships with a community that already has ample reason not to trust us? It's stupid."

But in an interview, a week after the meeting, Finks stuck to his point. "I mean it's fair to feel frustrated and concerned. I think that's fair. I think that we have an obligation to do everything that we can. However, like I said, we have not abandoned community policing.

"We're not moving in as some type of a major enforcement state. ... I think that we are taking a course where we can — as we stop the crime — build a rapport and constructive contacts along the way. We're not abandoning constructive contacts ... even while we're short-staffed. We're trying to figure out a way to do both."

***

Others complain of treatment similar to what Person experienced.

It was around dusk when the LRPD pulled Sheila Thomas (not her real name) over in November. She and a few friends were headed to the Senor Tequila restaurant on South University.

Thomas, a middle-aged African American, moved to Little Rock eight years ago and settled down in the sprawling and well-to-do West Little Rock neighborhood of Chenal. She was not surprised to be pulled over en route to the restaurant. Since coming home she's been pulled over four times. Once was for speeding, but she characterized the three other stops as simply resulting from driving south of Interstate 630, long a dividing line between the city's mostly white residents to the north and the mostly black and Latino residents to the south.

Thomas, driving a Cadillac with tinted windows, knew the routine. She steered to the side of the road and began gathering up her documents. But this stop was different from the past ones: "By the time we looked up, there were like six other patrol cars," she said. Thomas wondered what she did wrong and what warranted all the police. One of her passengers, just 19, was "scared to death," she said.

An officer approached and told her the car's headlights were not on and to step out of the car. "Magically, when we looked, [my headlights] were on," Thomas said. She was not issued a ticket and drove away with a warning.

"It just felt it was more like my car and the area and just because ... just trying to see who's in the car more than anything," Thomas said. "Once they ran my name and thought I was clear they let us go."

Kim, a convenience store employee in Southwest Little Rock who declined to give her last name for fear of reprisal, said she "watch[es] [the LRPD] give out warnings all night long — sometimes six police cars will have one person pulled over." But, she said she "didn't totally understand it until it happened to me." She was exiting a store parking lot on 65th Street where there was a police officer in the parking lot. As she left the lot, she failed to signal as she turned at a stop sign. A little down the road, she saw "blue lights blazing down 65th Street," Kim said. She pulled over, thinking police were going after someone else. Three police cars pulled up behind her. An officer approached and asked what Kim, a white woman, was "doing in this neighborhood." He said she had a taillight out, too, as well as failing to signal, and gave her a ticket. "I didn't understand why he had to treat me the way he treated me," she said.

Asked if she felt the officers' actions were helping the community, she said, "No, no, no. They are not trying to get to know people — they can tell you that, but by my experience alone, no. I was almost in tears. I haven't done anything yet wrong, and you're treating me like a criminal."

"To be honest," Kim said, police are "just pissing people off."

Thomas also said her stop felt like a crackdown, not community policing. "I can tell the difference," she said. "That was a threatening interaction to me. I just think that type of thing is harassment. ... I don't hardly ride at night now. I'm more worried about becoming Sandra Bland."

***

The arrest of Sandra Bland in Texas is one of the videos Derek A. Epp, an assistant professor at the University of Texas at Austin and one of the authors of the soon-to-be-published "Suspect Citizens: What 20 Million Traffic Stops Tell Us About Policing and Race," uses to explain investigatory stops. Bland was pulled over on a highway in Prairie View, Texas, for not signaling when switching lanes. The interaction between her and the police officer rapidly turned hostile as the officer questioned her and even tried yanking her from the car. She was arrested for assaulting the officer. Bland was jailed and later found hanged in her cell.

"We have really done the cost-benefit analysis of this kind of policing tactic all wrong," Epp said. "There is a benefit to removing the drugs [on a successful search], but what we've failed to do is assign any kind of cost to a failed search." Bland's arrest and death show those costs bluntly. Investigative stops, Epp says, create "mutual distrust" that builds up between police and the community, often minority and low-income, that is targeted. But when investigative stops were mainstreamed, aggressive policing costs seemed secondary to stopping violence. In the 1970s, James Q. Wilson and other social scientists developed the "broken windows" policing philosophy. Wilson proposed stringent punishment of minor crimes, such as a broken window, to prevent larger crimes. Holding people accountable for petty crimes, Wilson argued, maintained order and stopped the erosion of community, which led to the more serious crimes. He advocated for stop-and-frisk.

Wilson acknowledged in a 1994 New York Times op-ed that stop-and-frisk could result in profiling: "Innocent people will be stopped. Young black and Hispanic men will probably be stopped more often than older white Anglo males or women of any race." For Wilson, stopping crime was more important.

Finks usues similar logic. He was at the scene of a murder on Asher Avenue that occurred during rush-hour traffic when he called Chief Kenton Buckner and petitioned for the LRPD to implement increased patrols. It was the third homicide in as many days.

But Finks points to data that he says demonstrates the program is working. During the first four months of the increased patrols, as compared to the four months before the program began, traffic citations slightly declined, traffic warnings nearly doubled and the number of reports of gunshots being fired declined by 25 percent, from 905 incidents of shots fired from April 18 until Aug. 17 to 683 from Aug. 18 until Dec. 17. There have been 52 weapons and 114 drugs seized, the LRPD says, as of Dec. 25. The overtime patrol charged 349 felony counts (it's unclear, from LRPD data, how many actual people received charges) by Christmas.

But data shows the costs too: 5,823 subject and traffic stops by increased patrols in the same time span. That was approximately 112 traffic stops of residents like Person and Thomas per one gun seized.

***

The increased patrols have not occurred in a bubble. A task force including the State Police, the FBI, the DEA and other local agencies is trying to put together federal cases against major criminals in Little Rock. The LRPD has touted its Violent Crime Apprehension Team for making many felony arrests. This focus on enforcement, said Sgt. Willie Davis — a longtime member of LRPD and a community police officer who runs a program for young black men in the department — can be problematic.

"[You] still need somebody to soften that blow because when you go into a community like that — impacting people — you have to have someone to deal with the people or talk to the people that are not causing problems," he said. Otherwise, "they can feel intimidated and left out of the loop in terms of helping solve the problem."

This is especially true, Richardson says, because the trust between police and the community has been a problem for years. He has repeatedly complained of heavy policing in communities of color, saying, "There are some parts of the city of Little Rock where it's protect and serve for the Little Rock Police Department, and in other parts it's patrol and control." He said police too often treat residents in areas east of I-30 and south of I-630 "like everybody is everybody's criminal." Under the LRPD's method of policing, Richardson said, "One day you're treated like a trespasser in your community, the next day you're treated like a friend." Painting traffic stops as community policing is just the latest iteration, he says, of something that's been going on for years. In an email to fellow City Board members, he wrote, "I'm not sure if you guys realize this or not but the quick short term benefits may not be worth the long term effects. When these guys are upset about the humiliating treatment by LRPD, they have a tendency to take it out on each other. Usually in some form of violence."

Finks has said the LRPD is wary of a backlash. He said he knows the response in Ferguson, Mo., to the killing of Michael Brown was in part a result of over-policing for many years. But he says the rolling stops — and the number of warnings police have given vs. the number of citations — demonstrate a clear sign that the new effort is not just a crackdown of enforcement but an effort in community policing.

"The last thing we want to do is bring the violent crimes down for a minute and then everything blows up because everybody is so irate with the way the police department has been responding to the community," Finks said. "That's the last thing that we want."

"Community policing is not just narrowed down to the officers walking a beat. ... The problem is a lot of times, because of staffing, the officers are just constantly going from call to call and they don't have to. It's not because they don't have the skills or the will to do community policing. It's because of the call load."

The LRPD doesn't have enough officers, Finks said. In August, when the patrols began, the police had 54 vacancies (by Nov. 30, with a recent academy class graduating, the number was 21). Police can no longer walk beats in neighborhoods, and have to respond quickly to 911 calls instead, Finks said.

"That's great when you have [officers] on bicycles that are walking the beat in the neighborhood, getting to know the community. But, due to staffing concerns and issues, we had to scale back how many officers we could put in the neighborhoods," he said. After a summer of violence, his department needs to simply try to stem the violence. "I'm much more concerned with that right now," he said.

With new recruitment classes, in a year he thinks it's possible the LRPD could have more police working a community beat.

The LRPD has 19 officers assigned to a community beat. Many are concentrated in the River Market district, where nine officers patrol on bicycles. The sprawling southwest and northwest districts have only two officers each on bikes. Downtown has three.

Residents say the reason they feel targeted is that many police officers are not part of the community: A majority of officers live outside the city of Little Rock (65 percent according to the most recent data).

LRPD Chief Kenton Buckner has also drawn criticism. Hired in 2014, his tenure has been rocky at times. The Black Police Association has asked for "an independent investigation into the discrimination, inequities and disparaging treatment of minority officers and supervisors" under Buckner's command. Critics have also said the chief is often rude when talking before community groups; his supporters have said he speaks with a refreshing bluntness. Buckner, who declined to be interviewed for this article, often talks of "black on black" crime at community meetings and personal responsibility and downplays the idea that nonresident cops are a problem.

"Unemployment for black and brown communities is going to [go away]? Now, you know that's not going to happen," he said in an interview with the Arkansas Times last year. "The problem is, we keep looking for penicillin pills. It doesn't exist. Only heavy lifting is left. People are going to have to make some strong decisions about how they conduct themselves, how they go about living their lives, how they view education, choosing not to do drugs, choosing to have kids in wedlock, fathers choosing to have an active role with their kids. None of that has anything to do with a police officer living in the city."

Community members have also complained about what they perceive as the abandonment of the original vision for the 12th Street Station, which was once promised to be a mixed-use hub for the police and businesses but as of now only houses LRPD personnel. Built in 2013 during the tenure of former Chief Stuart Thomas, the 44,000 square feet of office space in the block-long building was supposed to take "the department into the future," Thomas said at the time, adding, "We're really looking forward to the opportunity to get working and operating out of this facility and see how it impacts the rest of the neighborhood." Police hoped the 12th Street Station would solve a chicken-and-egg problem: In order to fix crime, people need jobs, and in order for jobs to come, crime needs to go down. Mocked-up designs of the 12th Street Station made it look like a modern mall.

At the Nov. 6 meeting at the Willie Hinton Center next to the station, Buckner said of the lack of businesses in the area: "You think it's a coincidence that this commercial side of the 12th Street building is still vacant? There are several business people in here: Who in their right mind is going to bring their business into an area saturated with crime?"

The LRPD recently bought a building downtown on Markham to expand its headquarters.

Buckner's take on the failure of the 12th Street Station to attract commercial tenants resonated with Denise Johnson, who owns a beauty salon across the street on 12th: "That's why the police department is not that interested in this area; they're interested in where the money is." She had beamed with pride when the station was opened — she thought it meant the police would be part of the community and more businesses would move in. Now, she's disappointed. After 34 years on 12th Street, she wants to relocate. "When they had the groundbreaking, I thought it would make my clients more comfortable," she said. "They are more frightened now than they were then.

"I tell you one thing. I couldn't keep my door open before the police station and I still can't keep my door open. And I can see the police station, and I still cannot keep my door open."

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Davis, the LRPD sergeant, said that an emphasis on community policing could help bring down the crime.

"Here's the thing: There is no way any cop, in any city, in any country can solve any problem unless someone says, 'That guy had on a red shirt, black shoes and he ran west.' If you don't tell us that, we don't know," he said. He does not see community policing as an extravagant add-on to policing but a part of the job. "If any police officer thinks their job is not social, they need to get their brain looked at. This is social work that we do. I don't care how you slice it. It's social work," he said. "I don't buy that I don't want to see them in a grocery store. I want them to see me in a grocery store. Not only that, I want them to see me and my son, who plays in the same park that their kids play in. I want them to know that I have a vested in the community where we all live. ... Do I not want to go to church with you? What are we saying?"

Remembering the officer who'd unholstered her gun during a traffic stop, Person said the police "need people in the community who are in the community who are not scared of the community. I don't like scared police in the community, because the first thing a scared police does is shoot."

Davis was quick to defend his fellow officers. "We have a lot of good officers; we do. I think 98 percent of the time we get it right," he said. "But there's a small degree. And, there's a few that will never accept the idea of community policing. In some cases it may be a person that acts as a leader — that may be a leader." Davis was among the Black Police Officers Association members to criticize Chief Buckner.

That's why so many have been frustrated by the increased patrols, Judge Griffen said. "This is stupid at the policy level," not just a beat cop going rogue, he said. "And it is going to do what stupid policy has been known to do for a half-century: create more distrust, create more possibilities for flashpoints." And those flashpoints, he said, can turn into something larger in this city where, already, distrust is pervasive between the police and communities of color. "Little Rock is running out of time," he said.

'Protect and serve' vs. 'patrol and control' in Little Rock