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hookedonapirate · 2 years ago

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Beyond a Reasonable Doubt

Summary: Detective Killian Jones took an indefinite leave of absence from SBPD after his brother was murdered in the Line of Duty. Bitter and broken, he resides in a cabin on the beach when his brother's former partner, David Nolan brings him a case he knows the vengeful detective won’t be able to resist. A case involving Liam's killer.

Dr. Emma Swan makes all of her decisions like she operates on her patients—with care, competence and compassion. But when her colleague, Graham Humbert, is murdered in cold blood by the man who was freed because of a decision she made as a juror, she starts second-guessing herself. To make matters worse, her squeaky clean reputation is being questioned when she becomes a suspect for Graham’s murder.

There is one detective who believes she’s innocent, and he has a plan to protect Emma and find his brother's killer at the same time. When Killian finds himself caught between his duties to the SBPD and his need for vengeance, matters are only complicated by the feelings he develops for the woman he's supposed to protect.

He's impulsive and hot-tempered, and she's methodical and cool under pressure. Despite their differences, can they work together to bring the murderer to justice, or will the murderer get to them first?

A/N: Okay, this one has some trigger warnings to be aware of, including sexual assault, law enforcement being dismissive about sexual assault, attempted rape. It all takes place before the first ~*~ if you would rather skip.

Rated: Explicit due to mature language, character death, violence, murder and smut. The scenes won’t be too graphic, but I’d rather overrate than underrate it.

Previously on Beyond a Reasonable Doubt: While David visits Killian in the hospital, Emma checks on her patient, and Elsa walks in on a heated conversation between the doctor and detective.

Catch up: Pro I Ch 1 I Ch 2 I Ch 3 I Ch 4 I Ch 5 I Ch 6 I Ch 7 I Ch 8 I Ch 9 I Ch 10 I Ch 11

Also available on: AO3 I FF.N

Chapter 12

As Emma pulls into her garage the next evening, she’s unsure if accepting the Chief of Surgery position earlier was the right decision, but she knows David would still consider her a suspect either way. Plus, she knows in her heart of hearts she can do the job, and she can do it well.

Like Elsa said, she should stop overthinking everything and follow her heart more often, so that’s what she’s trying to do. She still doesn’t feel completely right about taking Graham’s position after his death, but the board is delaying making her promotion official for two weeks, out of respect for him. She is relieved since it will give her time to put her life back in order again.

As soon as Emma steps into her kitchen from the garage, her purse falls to the floor and she freezes before she can get the door closed behind her.

What the fuck?

Flickering lights appear through the connecting entryway to the living room and the song The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra is playing. Which is odd because there should not be anything in her living room that would produce that type of light. She certainly didn’t leave her TV on when she left this morning. Fear spikes in her blood, her heart racing as she tries to will her feet to move. Emma should run away, she should call the police, she should do something other than stand there, but her shoes seem to be glued to the floor. Besides, she knows who’s responsible, and she’s not about to run out of her own house screaming.

No, that damn bastard will not break her.

Inhaling a long, shaky breath, she grabs a large knife from the knife block on the counter and tentatively forces her shoes forward through the kitchen and into the living room. There are dozens of lit candles on every surface, another large bouquet of roses on the coffee table, just like the first time he broke into her house. Once again, she has no idea how he got in, but one thing’s—make that two thing s are—for sure: he’s obsessed with roses, and she is installing an alarm system as soon as she can. She doesn't know why she didn’t after the first time he got in. Then again, the bastard would probably find a way to disable it.

The music is pouring from the speakers, but she can hear the sound of her heartbeat over it. She’s not even sure where the music is coming from. It must be from a Bluetooth device, which means he can’t be too far away.

She slowly heads down the hallway, which seems to stretch on forever, dark and ominous, despite all the candles in the living room. She checks her office, looking behind the desk, behind the curtains and in the closet as she holds the hilt of the knife unsteadily in her hand, trying to keep her shit together. Next she goes into the bathroom and rips open the shower curtain. “Show yourself, you fucking coward!” She’s amazed she’s able to get the words out and not let her voice fail her.

Checking her bedroom somehow makes her heart pound even harder. There are more candles flickering through the room, casting menacing shadows over the walls and ceiling. She checks under the bed and in the closet, but he’s still nowhere to be seen. At this point, she’s more angry than scared that he invaded her home—her personal retreat—once again. She moves to the window, peeling back the curtains that she has not opened since Neal last broke into her home. The street in front of her house is dark and empty.

She wonders if she should call David. If she doesn’t, she won’t be able to mention it later without him questioning her for not reporting this at the time it happened. She blows out as many candles as she can and marches her way back to the kitchen. Setting down the knife, she kneels down to grab her phone from her purse which is still on the floor. Her fingers are shaking as she grabs it, pulling up David’s number.

When she rises, she looks up from her phone before pressing the phone icon and sees his reflection in the window.

Before she can move, he grabs her shoulders and turns her around so she’s facing him.

She had tried to vanish the images from her brain from when she had to be in the courtroom with him, she had tried to erase the darkness of his eyes and the creepiness of his smile, but now it’s all right in front of her, merely inches away.

With one hand still on her shoulder, he grabs her phone with his other one and places it on the counter. “Don’t look so frightened, baby doll. I’m not going to hurt you.”

His voice alone makes her skin crawl, and she wants to curl into herself.

The silence that follows is heavy and suffocating as he moves in close, swiping a stray hair from her face. She tries to turn her face away, but he grabs her chin, keeping her still. “I only want to make you happy.” His hands are like big, disgusting rats crawling over her skin as Neal rubs her shoulders.

Her stomach twists, and she almost gags on the unpleasant vapors of his breath. “Please leave me alone,” she croaks, her voice trembling.

“Why would I do that?” His lips stretch into a sinister smile that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Time seems to stop as he steps impossibly closer, digging his erection into her center. She goes numb, the tears that well up in her eyes and her attempts of calming her breathing—when had it become so erratic?—prove to be in vain.

“You want to make me happy?” she asks, trying not to make any sudden movements. She’s afraid if she puts up too much of a fight, she’ll end up like Tina—with a bullet in her head.

“Of course. You’re my baby doll. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m not your baby doll.”

“How can I make you happy?”

“By admitting you killed Graham Humbert as a favor to me. And that you killed Tina Bell and Liam Jones. And attacked his brother.”

Neal rips open her blouse and feels around her bra and then slips his hand into the waistband of her slacks, running his hand over her panties.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Emma tries to swat him away, but he grabs her hands and holds them to his chest.

“Stop, stop, stop.” His voice would be soothing if he weren’t such a creep. “I was only trying to make sure you don’t have a wire on you. An undercover cop tried to trap me before.”

“I’m not a cop,” she says angrily through gritted teeth.

He releases her hands and continues massaging her shoulders. “Then why were you spending so much time with Killian Jones?” He squeezes her shoulders a little tighter, his eyes going a shade darker than before.

“I didn’t know he was a cop. He lied to me. You’re the one who pointed that out, remember?”

Another smile stretches across his face. “Yes, I do remember.” He leans in, wrapping his hand around her waist, burying his face in her neck and pressing his lips against her skin. The bile rises from her stomach and she almost vomits all over him. “Has he kissed you like this?

She takes the opportunity to look over his head, spotting the knife on the counter next to her phone. If only she could reach out and grab it, but she’s afraid he would sense the movement, snatch it from her hand and stab her instead.

“Has he ever touched you like this?” He slides his hand in her pants again, running his fingers over her clothed center.

The bile reaches her throat and she has to refrain from gagging as she shakes her head. “Is that why you tried to get rid of Killian? You see him as a threat?”

Neal lifts his head and barks out a laugh. “You think I’m threatened by that sorry excuse for a man? Please, baby doll.” He once again presses himself hard against her, his face only centimeters from hers. “He could never be this hard for you,” he whispers softly as he leans in to kiss her lips.

She slowly and quietly reaches for the knife.

“Hands in the air, Gold!”

With guns drawn and aimed, David and two other cops storm into the kitchen and spread out around Emma and Neal. “I said, hands up!”

Neal slips his hand from her pants, to which she sighs in relief, and he raises both in the air.

“Now move away from her!”

As he complies and goes over to the kitchen table, Neal's expression becomes a blank canvas, showing no signs of surprise, rage or worry. If anything, he seems irritated. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, Detective Nolan?”

“Assume the position!"

Neal sighs in exasperation and leans his hands against the kitchen table.

Emma is in shock as she watches a suspected murderer and would-be rapist get patted down in her kitchen.

“Handcuff him,” David instructs.

One officer finds a handgun in Neal’s pocket, which he claims is registered, and handcuffs him as another officer finds a small pocket knife sheathed at his ankle.

As they read Neal his Miranda rights, David turns to look at her, concern etched in his features. "Are you okay?"

She nods, unable to express her shock in words. She can still feel Neal’s slimy hands on her, and she shivers, hugging herself.

“What am I being arrested for?” Neal demands.

“For the murder of Tina Bell and attempted murder of Killian Jones.”

Neal scoffs. “This is a joke!”

“We’ll see what turns up in the investigation. For now you're a guest of the county.”

“I’ll be out by morning.”

“As I said, we’ll see.”

Neal grins at Emma as the police officers escort him toward the door. “Good-bye, baby doll…for now. I apologize for the intrusion. Detective Nolan enjoys putting on a show. He tries to make up for other shortcomings.” He glances at David. “I think your dick was buried with Liam Jones." One of the officers forcefully shoves him out the door.

Emma sags against the counter, grateful he’ll be in jail, at least for the night.

David clears his throat as he gestures to her clothing.

Emma looks down before realizing her blouse is still open, her bra showing from when Neal was searching for a wire. She quickly buttons her shirt up. Luckily he hadn’t ripped off the buttons. “He was searching for a wire. He thought I was an undercover cop.”

“Well, we both know that’s not true.”

Emma doesn’t appreciate his snarky tone and wonders why he even came to her rescue in the first place. “I didn’t need your help, you know?”

He flashes a sarcastic smirk. “You’re welcome.”

“I was about to grab my knife as soon as you barged in here.” She gestures toward the knife on the counter.

David crosses his arms as he stares at her doubtfully. “Really? Well, I hope you were planning on killing him, because otherwise, he would’ve either had you dead or made himself look like the victim.” He turns around and heads out of the kitchen.

Emma sighs and follows him into her living room, knowing he’s probably right. She most likely would’ve tried to escape instead of making sure he was dead. And Neal is stubborn enough to have gone after her. “So does this mean you have evidence?”

His eyes search around the room, taking in all the lit candles and the bouquet of red roses on the coffee table. “This means I wore my sergeant down. He agreed to let me bring Cassidy in to buy us some time while we find something incriminating against him.”

Emma wrinkles her brows. “Since when is breaking and entering not a crime? Especially in Texas?”

David goes to the coffee table and reaches for the bouquet, fingering one of the roses as if he’s contemplating whether one would call this breaking and entering. “If Cassidy broke in, then why didn’t you report it?”

“I didn’t get a chance,” Emma answers defensively. “I was about to call you when Mr. Gold showed his face and took the phone from my hand. How did you know he was here, anyway? Are you still spying on my house?” she accuses angrily.

“No. Actually, Killian asked me to check in on you because he knew you wouldn’t be staying at Elsa’s and that you would be alone. And when I pulled up in front of your house, I could see Cassidy through the window. So I called for backup.” David releases the rose and looks up at her. “I talked to the hospital board today. They said you accepted the promotion?”

She nods. “I did. I figured it wouldn’t make a difference at this point. That you would still consider me as a suspect. But this isn’t a celebration.” She looks around at the candles and roses again. “This was all here when I came home from work. He’s been stalking me and terrorizing me.”

“For someone who’s being terrorized, you seemed awfully cozy with him when I came into the kitchen and saw his hand down your pants.”

Rage spirals through her. She can’t believe this! After witnessing Neal in her kitchen, assaulting her, David still thinks she’s making this all up. Now she knows how rape victims feel when police don’t believe them and blame them instead of their attacker. “Believe me, his hand was very much unwanted there. But I was afraid if I fought back, I would end up like Tina.”

“You might have.” Finally, he agrees with her about something.

“Then why won’t you see my side of this? What would it take to convince you I’m not working with Neal and that his attentions are very much unwanted? Do I have to end up dead like Tina?”

He shrugs noncommittally. “Before Cassidy murdered her, they were lovers.”

~*~

“Well, I have not so good news, bad news and even worse news. You’re not gonna wanna hear any of them.”

Killian slumps his head into the pillow. He knew as soon as David entered his room, this wasn’t going to be a pleasant visit based on the distraught expression on his face. “Just spill.”

“The not so good news is when I checked on Emma the other night, she was not alone.”

Killian lifts his head again. “What do you mean not alone. Who was she with?” He swallows the hard lump in his throat, hoping she wasn’t with another guy. Not that he could blame her. She’s an attractive woman, and he has no right to be jealous. They’re not a couple after all.

“Take a wild guess.”

Killian stares at David for a moment, reading the look in his eyes. Fear shoots through him when he thinks about that lowlife scum anywhere near Emma. “Please tell me it’s not…”

“I saw him in her house, so I came in through the side door which was wide open. He had his hand in her pants, and they were kissing.”

Killian balls his hand into a fist, rage pounding through him. “You arrested him, right?”

“Yes, for the murder of Tina Bell and your attempted murder.”

Killian furrows his brows. “And not for breaking and entering? Besides, I thought you didn’t have anything on Cassidy?”

“Killian, when I entered her house, there were lit candles all over and he got her a bouquet of roses…again.”

“He also broke into her home.”

“Look, I’m not an idiot, okay? Yes, Cassidy could’ve very well broken into her home, but until I know for sure, I’m not sure if I can trust her.”

“And why not? Like she said, she’s family. Why are you so quick to doubt her?”

“Because you obviously have it bad for her. One of us has to think rationally about this.”

Killian becomes even angrier. “I do not have it bad…” He can’t even finish his sentence. He and David both know he’d be lying if he denied it.

“Oh really? Come on, Killian. Man to man, tell me the truth. Do you or do you not have feelings for Emma?”

Killian turns his head away, his cheeks hot. “Fine, I like her, okay? But that doesn’t mean I can’t think rationally.”

“So if Emma did end up being guilty of hiring Cassidy to murder Dr. Humbert, you’re saying you’d be okay with being the one to put her in handcuffs?”

“Aye,” he answers quickly. “But she didn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Neither do you.”

“Exactly, and until we know for sure, we can’t count her out.”

“Whatever happened to the notion, innocent until proven guilty?”

“Yeah, look how that’s gotten us with Cassidy. I was able to get a search warrant and lock him up for three nights while we searched his condo, but we came up with nothing. Clean as a fucking whistle. I had to release him today.”

“He’s free now?” Disappointment and anger flood through him. “Fuck.”

“Cassidy’s lawyer is making a hell of a racket about police harassment. I’m afraid my hands are tied.”

“You’re right, I didn’t wanna hear any of what you had to say.” He would’ve at least felt better if Cassidy was still locked up but now he’s back on the streets, probably thinking of ways to get to Emma again.

A thought occurs to him, and he wants to shove it aside, but he can’t ignore the coincidence. Earlier, a doctor who was not a beautiful, green-eyed blonde came into his room and said Emma had taken the night off. The same night Neal gets released. It makes Killian sick to his stomach to even think about the possibility of Emma taking the night off to see that bastard. It makes him even sicker to his stomach knowing Emma could be in danger whether she’s working with Cassidy or not. Either way, he needs to leave this hospital, and he needs to leave soon. He needs to take matters into his own hands, seeing as no one else seems to want to do anything. So as soon as David leaves, he plans his escape.

This morning, they had taken out his IV and earlier this afternoon, they had removed his catheter and he has been able to walk up and down the hospital halls, even though it made him sweat profusely and tremble by the time he returned to his bed. He isn’t about to let that stop him, though.

When the nurse brings him his regular pain medication, he pretends to swallow it down with some water as she closes the window blinds for the night. It never eliminates his pain, but it has made it tolerable enough to be able to sleep.

He sets the empty cup on the bed tray and she takes it away.

The hardest part about escaping is getting on his street clothes. His shirt is soaked only seconds after he puts it on. He slips on the baseball cap David left for him that was with his things at the motel. He grabs his bag of personal items, pocketing his keys and phone before sneaking out of his room. The hospital is quiet, the nurses busy with clerical tasks as he heads to the elevator, his baseball cap low, covering half his face.

When he reaches the ground floor, one of the cops posted as a guard is flirting with a nurse and another one is taking a nap in his chair.

So much for security.

Killian slips out of the hospital without being seen, but now he has to make it on foot from here. He had contemplated calling Elsa and having her pick him up, but he was worried she’d bring him back to the hospital once she found out he escaped. Plus, she probably isn’t too happy with him after she found out he had used her to get closer to Emma. If she was still angry when she brought Camila to see him yesterday, she didn’t show it, probably because she didn’t want to put a damper on the mood while Camila was visiting her uncle. He doesn’t blame her one bit for being mad at him, though. He was mad at himself for lying to her and Emma.

Killian has to rest on a bench and catch his breath after walking two blocks, his shirt completely drenched at this point, sweat dripping down the sides of his face. Knowing he won’t be able to make it much longer on foot, he pulls out his phone and calls an Uber.

He’s relieved the Nolans didn’t wake up when the Uber pulled in front of the house. The driver could tell something was off about him, but Killian played it off like he was drunk. He might as well be, stumbling out of the car and down the driveway like an invalid.

He gets in his truck, hoping the exhaust doesn't wake the Nolans when the engine roars to life. He heads for Emma’s house, but all of her lights are off, so he goes to her front door. He leans against it so he doesn’t fall over as he knocks, but there’s no answer. He doesn’t know why she would answer the door in the middle of the night anyway. He wobbles over to the door of the garage and peers through the window. It’s dark but he’s able to see there’s no car parked in there.

Cursing under his breath, he heads to his next destination—Cassidy’s condo.

~*~

Neal is infuriated when the incessant knocking wakes him from his pleasant dreams. He forces himself out of his silk sheets and grabs his robe and handgun. He was having a dream about his lovely Swan when he was so rudely disturbed. He had been released from the county jail today and was enjoying his freedom while planning his escape from Storybrooke and taking Emma with him.

He needs to get away from that moron, Nolan, and his entire squad of clowns he calls policemen. He thought he could find something incriminating against him and keep him locked up? Hah! It’s all a joke, really. This whole town is a joke and he can't wait to show Emma far better places than this shithole.

Neal rips the door open, wondering who is next on his list of people to murder.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Gold, but I have an urgent message for you.” The concierge extends an envelope to him.

Neal snatches the envelope from the other man’s hand. He does not have the time or patience for this. Shooting the messenger is a literal temptation at the moment. “From whom?”

But when he tears open the envelope and removes the slip of paper, scanning over the message, he knows exactly who it’s from.

The roses were red,

My blood is too.

That’s all you've got?

The best you can do?

Come get me, coward.

I’m waiting for you.

~*~

Killian doesn’t know how he made it here without falling asleep at the wheel from exhaustion. His entire body is throbbing with pain as he leans his head back against his seat. It would be so easy to let sleep take him, so easy to give in. He was so relieved when the concierge at Cassidy’s condo told him he didn’t have any guests at the moment. He hates himself for even having the thought, and he knew there was only one other place she could be—her ranch. So he drove the hour it took to get here. He has to keep her safe from Cassidy and he’ll probably die doing it, but he doesn’t care. He’s not stopping until that bastard is no longer a threat to her.

But first, he just needs to sleep. Just a few moments of shut-eye and he’ll be good.

Letting his eyes fall shut, he gives in to it.

~*~

“Killian?”

When he peels his eyes open, there’s concern and worry on Emma’s face.

“Killian?”

He lifts his head and looks around.

It’s still dark. How long had he been sleeping? It could’ve been hours. Hell, it could’ve been days, he’s not sure.

Or this could be a dream and he’s still sleeping.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Nope, he’s definitely not dreaming.

She sounds angry.

“It’s nice to see you, too,” he manages with a small smirk.

“Do I even want to know how you escaped the hospital?”

He frowns at the accusation. “How do you know I escaped?”

“Because I’m your doctor, remember? I didn’t give anyone orders to release you.”

“You sent me another doctor,” he reminds her, still resentful about it.

“Yes, but you’re still my patient.” She unbuckles him and helps him out of his truck. Even in the darkness, he can see how beautiful she is. She’s wearing skinny jeans that hug her hips exquisitely, cowboy boots and a tight-fitting camisole, her hair long and loose and disheveled around her shoulders. He can tell she’s not wearing any makeup and her eyes are jaded. She was obviously sleeping not too long ago. She’s even more stunning than usual. “And you shouldn’t be out of bed. Does David know you're here?”

“No. When he finds out, he’ll be livid.”

“Why? Because you still need a couple more days in the hospital to recover?”

“No, because then he’ll know I’m going after Cassidy on my own.”

“So why are you here then?”

“Because he’ll come after you. Find you, find him.”

“He doesn’t know about this place.”

“He will, trust me. He won't stop until he finds you.”

She ignores his warning. “Come on, let's get you inside.” She winds her arm around his waist, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders.

If he weren’t in so much pain and if he weren’t so sapped, he would've been able to appreciate her hands on his body. “How did you know I was out here?”

“The loud exhaust of your truck woke me, and I looked out the window and saw you pull up.”

“Sorry, love.”

“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re not dead.” Emma helps him into her house and lowers him into a chair at the kitchen table.

He’s never been inside this house before, but he has to admit, it’s much nicer than his cottage on the beach. The living room is spacious and furnished with thick area rugs on the hardwood floor, brown leather chairs and a large sofa placed in front of a cozy fireplace built in between two large picture windows that afford a view of the woods in the distance. There’s a bar separating the living room and kitchen.

“Hungry?”

“Starving actually.”

Emma makes him creamy potato soup, which is probably the best food he has ever eaten, all of it made from scratch. Watching her cook was just as fulfilling as watching her stitch up his hand. He’s beginning to think she puts this much care and passion in everything she does.

“Thank you,” he mumbles through the last bite. “That was haute cuisine after all the hospital food I had.”

“It will help you sleep.”

He shakes his head as he sets the spoon in the bowl. “I can’t sleep. I didn’t bust my arse just to sleep as soon as I got here.”

She takes his bowl and brings it to the sink. “Sorry, Killian, but you need to sleep to get better.” She returns to him, extending a pill and a glass of water. “Here’s a pain killer.”

“I slept in my truck.”

She tilts her head to the side. “Seeing as I heard you pull up and immediately went to check on you, it was not nearly long enough.”

He sighs and takes the pill, swallowing it down with the cool water.

“Now come on, let’s get you into bed.”

He wags his eyebrows suggestively. “Normally I wouldn’t refuse an offer like that…”

She flashes a deadly scowl and takes the empty glass from his hand, setting it by the sink. “If you don’t come upstairs, I’m taking you back to the hospital.”

He groans in defeat and lets her help him out of the chair and lead him to the stairs.

When they reach a bedroom, she tells him to lift his arms.

He does as he’s told, eyeing the unmade bed. “Is this your bedroom?”

She pulls off his shirt, tossing it aside. “It’s the only bedroom in this house with a bed.” She ducks down and helps him out of his shoes before rising. “Now drop your pants and get on the bed.”

Killian smirks, his eyebrow rising up his forehead. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just do as I say, smart ass.”

“Yes, doctor.” He’s starting to enjoy this doctor/patient relationship they have established. Undoing his jeans, he pushes them down to his ankles and kicks them off. He turns his head to catch Emma’s reaction.

Her jaw is on the floor, her cheeks scarlet as he stands there bare ass naked.

She never asked if he was wearing boxers underneath.

“Cute,” she comments sarcastically, placing her hand on his back and gently nudging him toward the bed.

His heart does a somersault and his cock jumps at her warm touch. “Tell me something I don’t know,” he quips with a wink, making sure to strut toward the bed cockily. But he has a feeling she’s not talking about his butt.

“I meant the fact you went commando.”

He shrugs. “I was too busy trying to plan my escape from the hospital to think about boxers.”

“Just lie down.”

He does as he’s told, making her blush even harder, since he’s now on his back and semi-hard as he tucks his arms underneath his head and grins up at her.

“On your stomach,” she demands, making sure to look into his eyes instead of letting her beautiful green ones travel south, a tiny hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

“You’re no fun, love,” he grumbles, rolling over to his stomach.

She leaves the room and comes back a second later.

When she returns to his bedside, she’s holding something in her hand.

“What’s that?” he gulps, seeing the needle when she holds it up.

“It’s a syringe.” She taps the clear plastic tube. “And you’re about to get a butt-load of antibiotics.” She smirks. “Pun intended.

“I don’t need it.”

“Oh so you’d rather go back to the hospital?”

He groans again in surrender. “Fine.”

Emma swabs a spot on his hip with alcohol and jabs the needle into his muscle.

“Bloody fucking—”

“This might hurt.”

“—hell! Thanks for the warning.” He waits through the seemingly endless injection while gritting his teeth.

She lays the empty syringe on the nightstand. “Don’t move. I’m going to clean your incision.”

He wants to retort with something witty, but he’s distracted by the warm, fluffy pillow against his cheek and the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo lingering in the fabric, his eyes falling shut. He’s vaguely aware she’s bathing his incision with cold liquid, applying a fresh bandage and covering him with a sheet and light blanket.

He opens his eyes long enough to see her standing at the window. The sun had risen and, before she draws the curtains, he can see her silhouette and every feature of her exquisite figure against the bright sunlight. He groans when he notices her nipples poking the snug fabric.

She’s not wearing a bra.

Sweet Jesus.

She’s a true goddess.

He drifts off to a deep sleep, dreaming of said goddess.

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#cs ff #captain swan #beyond a reasonable doubt

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persuasivesilk · 2 years ago

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1) 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙋𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙫. 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙡𝙨 —

“You look like you’re going to be sick.”

My paralegal, Nolan, stared at me with caring, yet worried eyes. The purple tint that spread under them matched mine. He had to repeat himself. My mind, and apparently my listening skills, was no where to be found in the hallway of the courthouse. Along with the fact that the already cramped space was teeming with reporters, all clobbering over one another to get a decent soundbite. I couldn’t even hear myself think.

“Roy— hey, watch it will you?”

One of the reporters had stepped on his foot, not even bothering to apologize. After shooting a dirty look at the guy and shaking his head in distaste, he continued.

“Royce, you have argued a solid case over the past month. More than solid. I wouldn’t lie to you. How many times was I honest in letting you know the case law you were going to cite was idiotic?”

That elicited a small laugh from me, and managed to pull myself back to the present. Yes, Nolan was not shy about such things. It was why I had insisted he be my lead support staff during this trial. Though, it didn’t take much convincing on my part, he was keen from the first day I had been assigned this case. We’d started at the prosecutor’s office at the same time and had clicked shortly after. Ever since that day, we’d been a team. It was no different during this trial.

It was more like THE trial. The one that would undoubtedly make or break my career as a prosecutor as I was putting away a prolific serial killer that tormented Chicago for nearly three years.

I expelled a deep sigh to steady my nerves and calm the nauseous sensation that rumbled in my stomach. It didn’t last for long though, as everyone began to scramble from the courthouse lobby and back into the courtroom.

•••

There he sat. Stoic. Not even blinking for long periods of time. As if a jury hadn’t just sat through weeks of testimony and exhibits that caused not one but two jurors to nearly faint. A part of me saw him as the monster the media had painted him to be, the monster responsible for the string of murders in the city that left a path of sheer terror behind him.

His victims were mostly women, ranging from ages 17 to 35. Three others were men, early twenties. Nolan and I never could pin down why he deviated from his modus operandi when it came to them. The fact kept me up with a bottle(s) of wine and case files many nights. The media didn’t quite care, I suppose it didn’t matter to them in the grand scheme of things when 16 individuals had lost their lives.

The other part, the part of me that had poured over each gruesome detail of this case, knew that he was simply a coward and a disgrace to humanity. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction he wanted to be known as a monster.

I’d learned to separate my personal feelings toward men like him over the course of my career. In order to prosecute a case in a fair and just manner, it was imperative.

Still, it didn’t stop the small voice inside me that wished Illinois still had the death penalty when the judge sentenced him to two life sentences without the possibility of parole instead. While everyone cheered, ecstatic that Alan Michaels would be put away forever, I silently cursed myself for thinking the way that I did but I couldn’t help it.

He was scum.

As the entire courtroom stood, watching officers lead Michaels back to where he would rot, his dead eyes found mine from across the room. I didn’t dare look away. Not even when his thin lips curled into a disgusting smile that I knew was just for me.

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comradeolivia · 3 years ago

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So a Senator thought it would be okay to say that interracial marriage shouldn’t have been approved by the Supreme Court.

I think this gives us a great opportunity to talk about the history of this subject in the United States.

Some of the laws that started this were created before the country even existed, coming along side slavery. These laws would refuse them marriage certificates at best, at times they would be held on charges of “adultery” or “fornication”, other times lynchings occurred.

Before slavery was abolished, it wasn’t uncommon for children of interracial couples, ones that were both “free” even, to be taken from their parents and sold into slavery. There’s even records as close as in 1918 of people having their citizenship stripped from them for marrying non-white foreigners.

These laws were created by plantation owners that outlawed interracial marriage, it became possible to keep these two new groups, owners and slavers, separated and prevent a rebellion.

During the Civil War, many quakers spoke out against the laws, saying they are “the embodiment of the same racial prejudice that they saw at the root of slavery”. However, one of republicans favorite person to mention, Abe Lincoln, said he during a speech he was not in favor of making them voters, jurors, letting them hold office, “nor to intermarry with white people".

These laws inspired a certain leader taking charge in Germany, who used the United States banning of marriage between “whites” and “non-whites” (which jewish people in America counted as non-white at the time due to racist laws passed), to pass his own laws banning Germans from marrying Jewish people.

It wasn’t until 1967, that this law overturned. Alabama only amended their constitution in 2000 to officially remove language prohibiting miscegenation. There are still several incidences where court clerics will refuse to give mixed couples a license.

Now to Senator Mike Braun, I have a few words I’d like to say, but I’ll keep it polite. Had these laws not been overturned so states can have legal “diversity”, we wouldn’t have actual diversity. My sister-in-law, my niece, my sister and I, by these laws, we all wouldn’t exist. So next time you claim you want diversity, look at the people who you are a senator for, and realize the diversity is there, and you should protect that instead of some bullshit legal idea that hurts minorities.

#socialism #socialist #anti capitalist #communism #america #politics #jumblr #diversity #black lives matter

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tinyboxxtink · 4 years ago

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“Sharky” *Part 11*

Oh yeah, this series is going to be THE longest series to date. I’ve still got a decent amount of plot I want to get through.

Note: Yes, this is “Undiscovered Country” territory. But let me assure you, the ONLY things that this story will have in common with that episode is what Barba actually did, and the verdict. How we get there, that’s gonna be a very different and VERY bumpy ride.

And away we go!

Chapter List Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 12

Tag List:

@wanniiieeee

@dumauier

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@objection-argumentative

@aprildecker-blog

@chasingeverybreakingwave

======

You walked into the small courtroom made for hearings/pleas, your head held high. It wasn’t very full, some of the yahoo’s from the SVU, the kid’s parents you assumed, some reporters who had heard about the “Fallen ADA”. Vultures.

“Your honor my client would like to change his plea,” You walked right up to the judge’s stand without so much as looking over at the State’s side.

“Excuse me?” The judge asked, looking at Rafael who was standing behind you at the desk. “Is this true, Mr. Barba?”

“Yes your honor, I’d also like to change counsel to Miss Y/L/N here,” Barba nodded.

“Objection your honor,” Stone argued, walking up to the judge’s stand.

“Oh what grounds?” The judge raised an eyebrow.

“Miss Y/L/N and Mr. Barba have been in a relationship, it’s a conflict of interest,” He snarked.

“Your honor, I can assure you 100% that Mr. Barba and I have NEVER been in a ‘relationship’ of any kind, even Detective Benson can attest to that, can’t you?” You glanced back to her.

“It’s true your honor, they’ve never been in a relationship,” Olivia agreed while ignoring Stone’s glare.

“We had ONE very unfortunate sexual experience, if anything we hate each other your honor,” You added with a smirk. You could just feel the glare coming from Rafael into the back of your neck.

“Well, if that’s true then why are you choosing to represent him?” The judge asked suspiciously.

“Because it’s the right thing to do, your honor,” You said earnestly. “I may be an aggressive bitch, but I’m not a monster. Mr. Barba didn’t do anything wrong and--”

“HE KILLED MY SON!!!!”

“Oh shut up, you Pro Life Piss Ant!” You spun around and yelled at the father.

“Mr. Barba, control your counsel,” The judge warned.

“Right,” Barba came up next to you and pulled your arm leading you to the desk.

“As I was saying,” You huffed, throwing daggers with your eyes at the disrupter. “Mr. Barba did nothing wrong and--”

“Actually Miss Y/L/N,” The judge interrupted you.

“Can I not finish a sentence?!” You muttered to yourself, Barba nudged you to shut up.

“As far as whether or not he did anything ‘wrong’ is for a jury to decide,”

“Exactly, your honor,” You nodded. “With a TRIAL, which my client would like,”

“He can’t do that! He already admitted to killing my son. He can't take it back!!!” The man was yelling again.

“Sir, I have zero qualms of sitting overnight in a jail cell for beating the absolute SHIT out of you,” You snapped, causing several people to gasp and chatter, the judge banged his gavel.

“MISS Y/L/N, I will hold you in contempt!”

“He started it!!!”

“Yeah and it looks like I finished it,” You heard him chuckle. You started to make a break for it over to him to make good on your promise, but Barba grabbed you by the waist.

“Alright I’m ending this madness before it gets out of hand,” The judge sighed. “Court will convene next Friday at 9 am,” He slammed his gavel and the man’s wife quickly hurried the man out of the room before you could duke it out.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Barba hissed at you.

“Me? That prick called you a murderer, Raf--Barba,” You tried to keep it business, no emotion, Keep calm. That was going to be hard with Olivia stomping up to the two of you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” She barked.

“I’m sorry, did you not HEAR that bastard--?” You started a quip but were cut off by the detective.

“He’s the VICTIM!!!” It took a few seconds for it to register, but Olivia quickly realized what she said, looking at a shock and hurt Rafael. “I mean, he’s--”

“...And then the sky opened up and God said ‘Blessed be, Y/N,” You grinned, causing both of them to look at you in confusion.

“Now what are you on about?” Olivia asked, afraid of the answer.

“Well Olivia, for the VERY first time, I can say-- you’re not just my enemy anymore, you’re Rafael’s enemy too,” You smirked, using his first name to really rub it in.

“What? No, I’m not--”

“Really?” You scoffed with a laugh. “Would you like to repeat what you just said? Because I’m sure he is right now, over and over,” You nodded to Rafael who was still standing there with a hurt expression.

“Rafa you know I didn’t mean it like--” She went to put a hand on his shoulder but he moved back from her.

“Yeah, Liv,” He chuckled snidely. “I think you did,”

“And,” You added as you stepped in between them, protecting Rafael from her. “Regardless of your ‘feelings’,” You used air quotes with a sarcastic tone. “Your department is handling this case, is it not?

“....Maybe…” Olivia mumbled, looking over at Stone who was clearly waiting on her.

“Right,” You nodded. “So please, believe me when I say this” You got up in her face. “If you so much as even explain pleasantries with my client, I’ll have you arrested for trying to tamper with my case,”

“I...You...Rafa…?” Oliva stammered.

“Just...go, Olivia. Please,” Barba muttered sadly.

“Okay...I’m so sorry,” Olivia whispered with tears in her eyes as she walked away. You held back the urge to vomit in your mouth right there. You turned to give Barba a triumphant smile, but his pained expression almost looked worse than it had.

“Oh what now, droopy dog?” You crossed your arms.

“Thanks a lot,” He scoffed.

“You know you’re saying the right thing but not in the right tone,” You raised an eyebrow. “You should be thanking me for sticking up for you!”

“Sticking up for me?” He chuckled dryly. “By making an ass out of yourself? How do you think that makes me look?!”

“Oh come on Barba there were no jurors there--”

“But there were reporters! And what’s it gonna look like when the headline reads ‘Baby Killer’s Lawyer Calls Grieving Father a ‘ProLife PissAnt,’?”

“It doesn’t matter what I say, people don't have to like me, they have to like you!” You argued.

“Bullshit!” He scoffed with a sarcastic laugh. “Bullshit and you KNOW that!”

“Look I am the ONLY one here who knows you did nothing wrong--”

“Maybe I did!” He blurted rather loudly, then hushed his tone. “Maybe I did do something wrong,”

“Oh, uh uh, nope,” You wagged a finger and took him by the arm, into a corner of the courthouse.

“Look, Ba--Rafael,” You put both of your hands on his face and used his first name in a softer tone. “It doesn’t matter what Liv thinks, or what her labradoodle Stone thinks, it CERTAINLY doesn’t matter what that dad thinks,” You looked into his green eyes. “They can all think you’re the devil, and it wouldn’t matter. But the SECOND you start questioning your own innocence, this whole thing is going to fall apart,”

“Which is why I just wanted to take a punishment,” He looked down at the floor.

“Punish--for WHAT?!” You exclaimed with a confused look. “For unplugging a machine? Barba if that was illegal we’d ALL be in prison right now,”

“Look I know you may not care about human life but--” Rafael started but you cut him off.

“Uh uh. Nope. We’re not getting into this, but that ‘thing’?” You rolled your eyes. “That ‘thing’ was not a human being. And I’m gonna prove it,”

“How are you--”

“Spoilers, darling,” You smirked.

“Look...whatever ‘technicality’ you’re planning on using in court doesn’t make me feel any less guilty, okay? And you just took away the very LITTLE comforting support I have, so just--”

“Comforting support?!” You laughed sarcastically. “Oh right, because Olivia Benson calling you a murderer must have been SO comforting,”

“Look, Y/N. She’s still my friend. She would hold me and hug me and tell me it was okay, even if she did have a momentary lapse,”

“Oh that is SUCH--” You scoffed angrily. You grabbed his hand and stormed off towards the other end of the courthouse with him lagging behind you.

“What the hell?” He muttered, trying to keep up with you. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Well I am not about to do this with all those reporters just waiting for a juicy story,” You rolled your eyes as you spotted your destination. A sign read RESTROOMS-- It was a long dark corridor to the actual restrooms, and first up was a huge “room” labelled “FAMILY BATHROOM.”

“Get in,” You instructed him as you gave him a shove. You looked around to make sure no one had followed you and no one had seen you as you locked the door and turned to see a very confused Rafael.

Finally, when you were absolutely sure that you were safe from any sort of prying eyes, you dropped your act. Tears stung your eyes as you practically jumped into Rafael’s arms and kissed him, HARD. Caught off guard he stumbled for a moment, but then wrapped his arms around you so tight you could barely breathe; but you didn’t care. This was the first time you had kissed him, or any guy really, with actual feelings behind it. Real, true, deep feelings for each other. And it was blissful, just for that brief moment.

After several moments of you just standing there in his arms and crying into his shoulders, you pulled back and hit him on the chest.

“How could you be so STUPID?!”

“I’m sorry, what is happening here Mrs. Hyde?” Rafael asked.

“How could you let that bitch manipulate you to do her dirty work?”

“Wha--” Rafael’s eyes darted from you to the door to the distance, trying to figure out what was going on. “I’m sorry, were you trying to comfort me or punish me?”

“I don’t want you to go to prison for something someone ELSE should have done!” You started crying again. Rafael’s eyes softened as he realized your rage was masking your fear and sadness.

“Carino, I…” He put a hand to your face. “I’m sorry,”

“You don’t have to be sorry about it, that’s my point,” You rolled your eyes with a sniffle.

“I mean, I’m sorry for everything else,” He looked into your eyes with sincerity. “I mean, I can’t believe after everything I’ve done to you, or that we’ve done to each other, that you still came down here and want to fight for me!”

“Yeah well….” You looked at the floor with a small smile. “I guess I do have a heart,”

“And it’s mine,” He took your face by the chin to look back up at him.

“Excuse me?” You half laughed.

“Say it,” He smiled.

“Ok fine I lo---no, you know what? No,” You shook your head.

“No?”

“No, I think I have told you how I felt MORE than enough since we’ve known each other, you haven’t said anything!” You threw your hands up.

“Wha-- I saved you from suffocating in that alleyway!” He argued. “I broke up with Liv for you, I-I-I BEGGED you to stay with me! On my KNEES,” He scoffed with a laugh. “You ever hear the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words?”

“Yeah no that saying is bullshit,” you shook your head.. “Words are louder than words. And if I’m going to hear those words for the first time I want to hear them from you,”

“Wait…” he blinked. “For the first time? EVER?”

“Oh God...here we go,” You scoffed, breaking from his embrace.

“Here we go, what?”

“I can just see the look in your eyes,”

“And what look is that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Like you’ve just solved a riddle,” You shook your head with a small sad smile. “Like now you’re thinking ‘oh THAT’S why she is the way she is! Because nobody loved her as a kid!’,”

“No that’s not--”

“It totally is! You’re probably so relieved that’s there an actual reason that I’m so broken inside, that I wasn’t just BORN evil,”

“Hey,” This time he took your head in his hands. “You are not evil and you are NOT broken,”

“Yeah, I am,” You muttered softly as you looked at the floor again.

“Well then I will make it my mission to put you back together, Sharky,” He moved your face back up and kissed you gently. Your soul lit up at the sound of your previously resentful nickname. Now it sounded like the highest compliment coming out of his mouth so playfully.

“Yeah well first I have to fix this,” You gestured back towards the courthouse.

“Well, I’m sorry about that too,” He apologized sadly.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Rafael! You didn’t--”

“Look, baby I get that you don’t think so, and maybe technically it’s true, but I still feel guilty,” He shrugged.

“I just…” You sighed and pulled him back into your body. “I don’t want to watch you hurt like this,”

Rafael had no idea what to say to that kind expression, so he just pulled back into him and kissed your forehead. You let him hold you for just a moment, and then started to unlock the door. But something inside made you pause, and you let go of the door handle to face Rafael.

“...What is it, Sharky?”

“Look, Rafa,” You told him seriously. “We need to establish boundaries, right here and now,”

“Boundaries?” He asked.

“Distinction,” you clarified. “This girl,” You gestured to yourself. “This girl right here in this bathroom, is ‘Sharky’,”

“Which is why I just said that,” He joked.

“Yeah but,” You put a hand on his chest. “When we walk out of here, I’ll be just the shark defending you,”

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning,” You took a deep breath. “You’re not going to like what I do in court, I already know that,”

“Y/N come on don’t lie for me--”

“I’m not going to lie,” You assured him. “But I am going to be aggressive with facts, and probably mock all emotion involved in it,”

“...I already don’t like this,” He had a worried look on his face.

“Yeah, baby I know but…” You took his hands in yours. “Do you want to be NICE, or do you want to go HOME, and not to prison?”

“Home, I suppose,” He mumbled sadly.

“Exactly,” you kissed his cheek. “Look the parents brought this on themselves, if they can’t deal with the shame that’s not on me, or you,”

“What? Y/N you’re not going to go after the--” He tried to argue with you, but you put a finger to his lips.

“No, I’M not going to do anything,” You reminded him. “But the shark will do anything to keep you from going to prison,” You pulled him into one last passionate kiss, knowing it would have to last you for a bit. You unlocked the door and turned to him one last time and added:

“By any means necessary,” Before sauntering out the door.

This trial should be fun….

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #sharky #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction

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florrickandassociates · 3 years ago

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TGF Thoughts-- 5x07: And the fight had a detente...

This episode is a wild ride, so if you haven’t seen it yet and you aren’t spoiled, don’t read this. Just go watch it.

Ave Maria plays over a photo montage of cancelled men, including Kevin Spacey, Louie CK, and Scott Rudin. (Scott Rudin, if you don’t know the name, is a Broadway/Hollywood producer who treated his assistants like absolute shit. He’s the inspiration for the possessed producer episode of Evil—I think it’s the third episode of the series—and Robert King does not like him one bit.)

And then the episode opens with Wackner, Del, and Cord discussing the Armie Hammer cannibalism ordeal. Whew, this is not what I wanted to be thinking about first thing on a Thursday morning. I do not think I can put into words how boring I find debating whether or not someone should have been “cancelled.” Cancellation is usually about rich people facing consequences for shitty actions, and those consequences have never involved anyone’s rights being infringed upon, so why should I care about someone being cancelled? And, while I know that society/people on Twitter don’t always understand nuance, I’d like to think that when it comes to the most notable examples of cancellation... no one is losing their livelihood over false or minor allegations.

There are so, so, so many issues in the world. Cancellation affects a handful of high profile, usually white, straight, male, celebrities. Why should I give a shit about, like, Louie CK not being able to make as much money as he used to? I just do not and cannot find it interesting.

I’m not surprised David Cord and Del Cooper find this topic interesting—Del likely hates worrying that all of his comedians could get cancelled and put him in a financially tricky spot; Cord probably says things like “Woke Mob” unironically. And as for Wackner, he almost certainly has a skewed understanding of what actually happens when someone’s cancelled and sees a place where he can step in and add some order. Blah. It’s just so boring.

"People are getting canceled without a trial, no evidence presented against them,” Wackner says. This is not it, Wackner! This is such a strawman argument. We don’t need the legal system to adjudicate people being assholes to each other, and in cases where a crime is committed or a particular individual can sue for damages, that is what happens. If you act shitty and then your sponsors realize you’re toxic and drop you, like, it is what it is. You can feel free to respond via a Notes App screenshot where half of your apology is actually just whining about cancel culture and then you say “I’m sorry if anyone took offense at what I did” instead of saying “I’m sorry I said/did hurtful things” and when people don’t take that seriously, maybe it’s because you didn’t take it seriously, either.

“There are a lot of reasons these accusations never go to trial. The victims finally get to accuse the victimizer face to face,” Wackner explains. Were the victims asking for this?

Marissa shares my question, noting that if the victims don’t want to speak up, then the victimizer would have the court to himself. This raises a new question: who is even bringing these cases? Are Wackner, Cord, and Del just deciding they want to do things as cases and then getting everyone else on board? This sounds bad!

Apparently, according to Wackner, “if #MeToo relies on mob rule, it’ll exhaust itself.” What... evidence is there for this? I get why people panic about the POSSIBILITY of this happening, even though I don’t share their panic, but is there any actual evidence that #MeToo is losing steam because of false allegations because cancellation isn’t a formal process? I don’t believe there is.

The test case we have the pleasure of seeing this week is about “Louie CK two,” whom I shall refer to as LCK2 instead of learning his name.

Now, suddenly, Marissa is asking one of LCK2’s victims to testify. She doesn’t want to participate because it’s just another way for LCK2 to get his career back. Marissa decides to be idealistic and say this is a real opportunity to confront LCK2 with his crime. I suppose she isn’t wrong, and that is what happens next, but, again, meh.

Apparently David Cord is going to defend LCK2. You know what would get cancelled in five seconds? A David Cord funded show that has David Cord actually on it, railing against cancel culture! Can you IMAGINE the thinkpieces?

God, when is this episode going to move on from this extremely irritating premise?

Marissa decides she wants to be the prosecutor. Wackner says if she prosecutes LCK2, she has to prosecute the academic who used a word that sounds like the n-word and lost her job for it. Marissa thinks the academic shouldn’t have been fired, but Wackner insists she has to take both cases.

“Let’s go into court,” Wackner says, and, thank goodness, we do go into court: REAL court, where we are talking about REAL issues.

In court, Liz and Diane are suing the police over the death of a black girl who was tased by the police. Her friend is on the stand and it’s quite emotional. Also, Diane tries to pass Liz a note and Liz ignores it. Why would you have two name partners on this case if they aren’t even going to try to work together?

You can tell things are tense between two TGF characters when they talk at the same time in court but are on the same side.

Hiiiiii Abernathy! ILY!

The victim had a heart condition, which the police lawyer argues is the actual cause of death. Police lawyer also argues that since this witness posted some ACAB lyrics on Instagram, she must be biased. Eyeroll.

Liz calls the other lawyer racist; the other lawyer tries to make Liz look like she is only on her client’s side because she’s black and that Liz is being absurd.

Cancel culture court happens. We’re dealing with the academic case first. I don’t feel like talking about the cancel culture shit too much, so here is my take on this case as a whole: (1) I don’t think the actual word in question, which isn’t actually the n-word, is enough on its own to get someone fired (2) I also don’t think anyone can use that word, regardless of its meaning or history, without understanding how it will come across. (3) The teacher did not get fired for simply using this word once (4) This teacher believes that anyone who is from a group that’s been marginalized in history should have to confront that marginalization with as little sympathy and respect as possible because it will help them be more resilient. So basically, if you are from the dominant group then you don’t get challenged. She believes it is her job to do this. She is an egotistical asshole who has no business teaching.

Cord wants everyone to have to say the full word in question. He says this pretentiously (though I don’t think saying “Said word” is that pretentious, tbh) and Wackner rules against him and also makes him wear a powdered wig for using “obtuse language.”

Marissa is not trying at all with this case at first, since she doesn’t believe in it. That’s shitty, Marissa. If you want to be a lawyer at a firm like RL you’re going to have to fight for all of your clients.

Marissa makes a Latin joke and ends up in a powdered wig, too.

The prof says, in one sentence, that she didn’t know what she was doing using the word and also that the black student who took offense thinks college is supposed to be warm, cuddly, and unchallenging. So it was a challenge, then, prof?

I like this student. And I love that she calls Marissa out for obviously not trying.

“The optics matter. Racially,” Diane says to Liz, who agrees. Diane, strategically, makes it about gender first (the cop is male, some jurors may react to a woman questioning a man), then makes it about how she should be the one questioning the cop since Liz is black. It would make the jury more “comfortable” (hey, there’s that word again!) Diane says. She says she is being pragmatic.

Diane says that she could be “more dispassionate”. Be or come across as, Diane? Either way, Liz, who knows full well what the optics look like given that this isn’t her first time in court, doesn’t agree with Diane that they need to come across as dispassionate.

Then Diane just changes the subject to the firm drama. “Liz, you’re shoving me out of my name partner position because of my race.” Like that’s the issue!

“I am doing nothing. You are the one who got our racist clients to whine to STR Laurie about us,” Liz counters. “Those clients bring in a great deal of money, and they are not racists,” Diane insists. Yes. Sure. Diane just happened to choose white male clients who were “comfortable” with her to talk to. I have no doubt they’d have reacted poorly to any change in representation, but Diane was counting on those particular clients having some discomfort with their new lawyers.

Liz calls her out and Diane’s still trying to play it like she just had to inform her long-term clients and it just had to be done this way. But, when Liz asks if Diane thinks the clients would’ve had the same reaction if their new representation were to be white, Diane says that maybe her clients are worried about racial grudges. So, what you’re saying is you knew exactly what you were doing, huh, Diane?

I get why Diane doesn’t like being pushed out, because who would, but Diane, this isn’t about you. And if you didn’t want to make it about race, perhaps you shouldn’t have appeared on a panel about how great it is that your firm is majority black? You can’t have it both ways.

Liz notes that Diane felt ��entitled” to her name partnership. This is accurate, though based on revenue and stature I don’t think it can be denied that Diane deserves name partner status (generally speaking). Diane went over to RBK, was like, “sure, I’ll be a junior partner, thank you so much for the opportunity, I can’t even pay my capital contribution right now but what if I were name partner in three months?” and that is both entitlement and knowing one’s own worth, but mostly entitlement.

(Liz does not act entitled, but if we want to get into who deserves their partnership more—again generally speaking, not their partnership at a black firm specifically—it is definitely Diane! Liz literally only has this job because her dad was important.)

“I think that Barbara Kolstad was shoved out because you felt entitled to her position,” Liz shouts. OMG, a mention of Barbara?!?!?!??!?!? THANK YOU, WRITERS!!!

(This is a slight bit of revisionist history but I’ll allow it, and I think it’s right in thought even if it’s not right on the details. Barbara wasn’t shoved out—Barbara chose to go to a different firm that offered her a better deal—but I don’t think Barbara would’ve been on that trajectory had it not been for Diane’s presence at the firm. Barbara was in charge of a firm that shared her values when, suddenly, her partner decided that they needed to pursue profit over all else and needed Diane to execute that strategy. Maybe no one made a move directly against her, but Adrian and Diane changed the mission of RBK until it was no longer somewhere Barbara wanted to work.

“We can’t work together if you don’t respect me,” Diane screams at Liz. “No, we can’t work together if you use race cynically,” Liz responds. Diane gets even angrier, swears a bunch, and then says “You want to come after me, you come after me with an honest argument about my lack of competence, my lack of worth.” Diane, you are fighting a completely different battle here! You can be entitled and also correct and also good at your job. This is what you used to accuse Alicia of all the time. The fact you’ve turned this into something about your skill level when it’s about the meaning of having a black firm is only proving Liz’s point.

“Your unworthiness—which you don’t seem to want to acknowledge—is that you can’t be the top dog in a black firm,” Liz says. Exactly. But Diane just storms off.

Now the cop is on the stand. He did not know the victim had a heart condition. Uh, obviously, why would he have known that?

Liz is aggressive in court; Diane thinks this is the wrong strategy. Without knowing who is on the jury, I have no idea which one of them is correct.

The next move is to get the cop’s ex-wife, who he abused, on the stand.

Goodie, it’s cancel culture court. Things go well for Marissa, but Del wants to know why Marissa wasn’t that passionate about the n-word case. Marissa says she feels like it’s not the n-word, like that is a valid reason to not represent your client to the best of your ability. “It is. It always is,” says Del.

Marissa heads back to RL, and as she walks, the camera follows her and moves through the space until we end up in Liz’s office, where she gets a news alert about the cop from the COTW. He’s been killed, seemingly in retaliation for his actions. The news is quick to suggest the trial might’ve encouraged the killing. “Oh, fuck.” Diane says as she watches the news. Aaaand credits (at 20 minutes in!)

From the promos, I thought this was going to be a Very Serious Episode about police brutality. From the opening, I thought it was going to be an insufferable episode about cancel culture. I was wrong! (Though, I suppose, some of the cancel culture stuff is still insufferable.)

Yay for Carrie Preston, who directed this episode. I read an interview with her and she talked about how there’s a “look book” for directing TGF episodes and I have never wanted to see anything as badly as I want to see this look book. (Am I exaggerating? Probably. But I might not be.)

After credits, Marissa finds Carmen and Jay to ask them if “n-word-ly" is offensive. She acknowledges she’s being annoying but they let her continue anyway. Jay finds it offensive. Carmen does not. This seems fitting with their characters, and I love that this scene acknowledges that not every black person is going to have the exact same reaction to everything.

I want Carmen to have more to do! While I’m glad the show isn’t forcing her to have a large role in every plot just because, I feel like she’s gone missing for the middle part of the season. My guess is that their priority with Carmen is setting her up to be an ongoing part of the cast who grows into being someone we want a lot from rather than forcing her plots from the start... but surely we could get a little more of her! I doubt she’s a one-season character like I assume Wackner will be.

The cop’s murder changes the vibe in court. Abernathy calls a moment of silence in his memory. “We’re fucked,” Liz whispers to Diane.

And indeed they are. The cop’s ex no longer wants to talk about how abusive he was—she wants to talk about how great he was. Whose idea was it to still put her on the stand?! Idk about legal procedures but this seems like a really avoidable mistake!

Diane argues that the cop’s death has prejudiced the jury. Abernathy decides to call a “voir dire de novo,” using an obtuse Latin phrase that would not be permitted in Wackner’s court. (Love the little parallels in this episode, like this, the transition between courts earlier, and how much of Marissa being called out on her whiteness feels like a thematic extension of everything going on with Diane.)

Cancel culture court continues. Carmen shows up.

I don’t really get how June, the victim of LCK2, potentially losing a headlining gig for a bad set instead of retaliation from LCK2, scores him a point. One, if she was a rising store, one bad set shouldn’t have damned her career. Two, isn’t it enough to prove that he masturbated in front of women who didn’t want him to do that???????

Having June perform her act with no prep in Wackner’s court so they can judge whether or not she is funny is a wildly bad idea. So now Wackner is an arbiter of humor as well as cancel culture?

This whole system is silly and I reject the whole premise but June should not lose two points for the logic that Wackner + the audience don’t find June funny --> June must’ve had her career derailed because she just isn’t funny (how’d she book the headliner gig, then?) --> LCK2 scores points??? He still masturbated in front of her without her consent!

Using cancel culture to show Wackner’s court is going too far/slipping into bad territory: I’m on board with this. Using Wackner’s court to actually comment on cancel culture: Ugh. The writers seem to be trying to do both.

Lol at Abernathy having Stacey Abrams’ book on his desk.

Marissa argues the n-word case more passionately, because these writers love to make situations that seemed clear cut seem more uncertain. It’s no coincidence they have the sexual harassment case look murkier (though, again, June being bad at comedy does not negate the sexual harassment!) right before they have the n-work case begin to tilt in favor of the professor’s cancellation.

Hahah what bullshit about trying to prepare the students for a world that won’t be kind to them. Do you seriously think your black students need YOU to prepare them?

This lady thinks history classes have to describe rapes in detail to get students to sympathize. No, no they fucking do not.

She also says she’d use the n-word if she were teaching a topic where it might come up. Um, no?

Mr. Elk (this is what I call Ted Willoughby, Idiot Reporter, after he said “things of that elk” in his first appearance) is attacking Diane and Liz on his show. Diane and Liz are, apparently, “Marxist slip-and-fall lawyers” and Mr. Elk plays a clip of Diane saying cops need to be held accountable. Obviously, this was before the cop’s death and meant to be about the legal system, but it looks like Diane’s calling for his murder. I also love how they go out of their way to only pause the clip on unflattering frames of Diane.

Liz wants to use this in court—I forgot that Liz is super sneaky but this tracks; she is always quick to use things to her advantage and we’ve known that about her since her strategy with the DNC in 2x07 (to make outlandish allegations and then drop them before presenting proof). Julius wants to get Liz and Diane security.

That security is, apparently Jay. I think they’ve shown Jay as security before when Lucca went viral. I didn’t understand it then and I don’t understand it now.

I was, briefly, worried for Liz and Diane’s safety, especially after I saw all the angry cops waiting for them in court. Then I thought, oh, well at least they’re in court, they should be safe from being shot there. Then I remembered 5x15. Then I laughed at myself.

Liz’s new strategy works and Abernathy uses more Latin. But, they can’t get any more jurors thrown. (They’re going for a mistrial.)

Oh, Carmen is back again! She did SO MUCH in that court scene where she appeared and then disappeared! She’s chatting with Marissa and spots LCK2 in the RL offices.

Apparently, LCK2 negotiated a contract with Del, with David Lee’s help. (Why would David Lee be doing entertainment law?) Suddenly everything makes sense to Marissa.

She calls Del to the stand. This—and, honestly, everything after this—makes me wonder how much of this would ever make it to air. Why would Del televise this?

What a shock—Del wants LCK2 back on his streaming service (which I don’t think has a name LOL).

Somehow Marissa’s questions become about Wackner and whether or not Wackner is an impartial judge, which doesn’t seem like the core issue. Wackner has made it pretty clear that his stance is that he doesn’t care if others are corrupt around him or try to use him; he’s going to be impartial no matter what. Why not play that up instead of making the entire show look staged and Wackner look complicit, Marissa?

Like, why is Marissa asking Wackner if he’s prejudged the case?! Why isn’t she just trying to like, get him to declare a mistrial because there is a conflict of interest? She can make a version of this argument without accusing Wackner of PREJUDGING, which she knows—I know, so she knows—will set him off. Wackner truly believe he thinks he is impartial. It’s not smart strategy to question that (even if we all know that Wackner is not impartial!)

Wackner blows up at Marissa and shouts at her. He tells her to get the fuck out of court.

This is certainly dramatic, but again, would Del ever choose to air this? I doubt it.

On her way to work, Diane notices hot pink spray paint in the elevator. When she exits the elevator, the whole firm is gathered in the lobby. Someone has painted COP KILLERS across the elevator bank. “Security doesn’t know how they got in,” Jay says. “Of course they don’t,” Diane responds. “They suggest we call the cops,” Jay says. I love this little exchange. I wasn’t exactly wondering how someone got in, but I like the show making it clear how unprotected Diane and Liz are right now and why.

Julius appears and says that Mr. Elk is saying something new. Diane and Liz sit down to watch and the tone of this episode completely shifts.

I had forgotten completely that Liz’s dad’s assault issues are out in public until Mr. Elk called him “a disgraced civil rights leader.” It doesn’t feel like they’re out in public! Also I would believe Mr. Elk calling him disgraced for no reason at all.

Y’all, when Mr. Elk said the name “Duke Roscoe,” my jaw dropped. WHAT A CALLBACK.

This scene, and really, everything in this plot from here on out, is a delight. It just keeps going and going. It is the best kind of fanservice.

1x11 has been, for no real reason, on my mind since 5x04. It popped out to me as an example of this show’s humor so I talked about it in that recap. I nearly mentioned it in my 5x06 recap when Diane laughed at Julius’s suggestion that they start a firm together. I rewatched 1x11, by complete chance, like two weeks ago. How weird that I'm somehow on the show’s wavelength about this!

Also I made a joke about Mr. Elk last week without knowing he’d be back this episode. I would like to think I conjured this.

(1x11 is a really pivotal episode for TGW, even if it isn’t one of the most notable episodes overall. It's composer David Buckley’s first episode and that ending, with Diane laughing, is one of the earliest moments of TGW showing its sense of humor and playing to its strengths.)

Mr. Elk notes that they “rarely see” Kurt, which is apparently evidence that Diane is a lesbian. Hahahahahahah. Mr. Elk also wouldn’t want to note Kurt, despite his recent controversy, because to his viewers, Kurt’s beliefs would make Diane seem more sympathetic.

GUYS, THE WRITERS DECIDED TO MAKE A CALLBACK TO AN ICONIC MOMENT FROM AN EPISODE THAT AIRED OVER A DECADE AGO AND THEN BUILD ON IT. I cannot express how fucking happy this makes me.

Now, Mr. Elk says, Diane and Liz are an item!

What’s better than Diane laughing hysterically at the original allegations? Diane doing it again, eleven years later, JOINED BY LIZ.

This also works super well to cut the tension between Diane and Liz. I assume this isn’t the end of the name partnership drama, but I think it might be the end of Diane and Liz being pissed at each other. Since the name partnership drama was never really about Diane and Liz (Liz seems to want Diane to stay on...), I’m fine with that.

Because this is an episode full of callbacks that delight me, Del asks Liz when he gets to meet her son! HER SON STILL EXISTS!

It sounds like Liz and Del still aren’t fully official, which clarifies why they don’t seem to be a couple in public.

Del brings up the Diane rumor (jokingly) and Liz jokes along. I love that we get to see this playful side of Liz.

Wackner’s watching his outburst with regret. Del calms him down and notes that this is good TV (why... would Del air this... it makes DEL look worse than anyone!). Wackner calls Marissa to apologize; she picks up and accepts his apology.

Abernathy calls Liz and Diane into chambers. He’s worried he was “insensitive”-- he's noticed the tension between Liz and Diane, but now he thinks it was a lover’s spat.

Diane puts on a poker face and leans in towards Liz. She starts nodding attentively and thanks Abernathy. Liz smiles and doubles down: she’s not just going to play along, she’s going to milk it. She gets a juror kicked for homophobia, which means a mistrial. Shameless. I love it.

Diane and Liz playing off each other as Abernathy tries to look like as much of an ally as possible is comedy gold.

Diane even calls Liz darling. Omg.

LCK2 is on the stand, being charismatic and annoying. Of course he is. This is what happens when you give someone who is known for being able to connect with a crowd... a crowd and the benefit of the doubt.

LCK2 is talking about “stupid women” in his new set. Why... is Del giving that a platform at all? See, the fact that Del thinks it is not only interesting but also somehow essential to let LCK2 make jokes about sexual harassment is why I can’t take this episode seriously. Why should I be more outraged about someone who did something shitty not getting a trial for his shitty but legal behavior than I am about powerful people continuing to offer shitty people platforms? Only one of these seems outrageous to me.

Wackner decides that the professor did something “awful but lawful” and that’s it. So you’re saying that if it isn’t illegal, it doesn’t get decided in your court, either? What was the point of this, then?

The professor says she doesn’t want that—she wants the school to know she’s being punished so she can get her job back. The student storms out, rightfully. Wackner’s job isn’t to offer someone who wants punishment some form of penance, like she can exchange community service hours for offensive remarks. It’s to... well, idk what it is to do, since this whole thing doesn’t really make sense and he makes the rules, but I don’t think his verdict has to be about giving anyone what they want. I’m disappointed that Wackner comes up with a punishment and I don’t think it’s going to get her her job back.

LCK2 loses, too, because he hasn’t made amends. Wackner doesn’t want to fine him because he’s too rich for a fine to matter. Cord argues that LCK2 deserves a second chance. I mean, sure, but is he being denied a second chance? He doesn’t deserve an easy path back to his fame just because he wants it.

Wackner mentions prison. At first I was like, oh, that’s a nice throwaway line that he mentioned prison! This ties into what I was saying a few weeks ago about how Wackner likes the institutions that already exist—he just thinks they’re imperfect! It’s fitting that he’s not a prison abolitionist!

And then the episode actually went there: Wackner, thanks to David Cord’s private prison company, actually sentences LCK2 to prison. This is deeply uncomfortable (and of questionable legality). Wackner’s system is just going to recreate prison? Worse, private prison? He’s creating an unchecked, privatized legal system?! This sounds bad! Kudos to the show for taking this to some place so dark—I knew Wackner’s system would start to show cracks, but I didn’t realize they’d go this far.

And I’m not sure what the end game is with this! All I know is I’m not on board with Wackner sending people to prison (except as a plot—I am very on board with this plot) and neither is Marissa.

I do not think viewers of the reality show will like the prison twist or the fact that Cord is financing a court and prison! Can you imagine the scandal!

And what do the contracts look like that allow Wackner to sentence someone to prison? Can LCK2 leave any time he wants? If so, then how does the prison sentence help? If not, is that legal?

Del wants it to be a 2 week sentence, not 3, because this means LCK2 will have to miss his taping in two weeks. I have many questions. (1) Is Wackner’s show airing live? If not, then why do they need to rush the taping of the special? They could push it quite easily. (2) Why can’t they push the taping? This guy is a huge deal and enough potential $$ that Del wants to rehabilitate his career... so why does the taping have to be on this particular day and time?

Is there really an Exxon Mobile case, I wonder?

I like that we spend a good amount of time watching Marissa’s reactions to this latest addition to Wackner’s court. Combined with the score, Marissa’s facial expression serves to underline that private prisons are not good here! This isn’t Wackner getting legitimate methods of enforcement... this is just opening a pandora’s box of highly questionable extrajudicial practices.

I do love that this episode ends up here: it starts out like it’s going to be about cancel culture silliness and ends up being about the escalation of Wackner’s tactics.

Funny how both of the cancelled people end up being found guilty by Wackner, huh! Almost like they actually did something wrong and faced the consequences!

Liz and Diane get called in to talk to Liz’s favorite department: HR. They’re asked to sign “love contracts” to confirm things are consensual. I find it hilarious that HR gives them the paper before even asking if it’s true.

Liz grabs a pen and signs. Diane follows her lead. They look at each other and smile politely at HR.

I am... not sure how to read this last scene! Is it a fuck-you to HR? A way of easing tensions? A way for Liz to get people to stop talking to her about removing Diane as name partner because no one will want to ask if they’re really involved? Something else? Help me understand!

Curious to see where things go next. I can see LCK2 coming back for another episode but it also wouldn’t surprise me to never see him again. Similarly, I could see some glances/discussion of Diane and Liz’s romantic relationship next week, or I could see it never being mentioned again, or I could see it being mentioned next season out of the blue.

#tgf thoughts #the good fight

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bagadew · 3 years ago

Text

The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Adventure of the Runaway Room (Part 1b)

Last time: We (and by we I mean Ryunosuke and Susato) arrived in England, and were almost immediately sent to play lawyer by Daemon Gant’s ancestor, who is definitely going to either die or kill someone later. Despite our client being only the richest of able bodied white men, we quickly found ourselves on the ropes thanks to the worlds least impartial jury. Fortunately we now get to put the buggers on the spot and demand they give us their reasons for convicting my client (and boy had they better be good).

Ryunosuke, the more we learn about that man the more of a cad he becomes. I say we should be very thankful we aren’t doing that.

Let me get this straight, instead of smashing their half baked ideas to smithereens and laughing as I go, I have to use the worlds weakest bricks to build my argument.

Susato, one of them knows one of the witnesses.

Oh, so that’s what we’re doing.

Ok, Ryunosuke, lets get shit stirring!

Well firstly, either the drunk juror’s wrong or Beppo’s overcharging people, so jot that down.

Ooh, we’re pacing!

(Also, I’d like to thank Juror No.4 for backing me up, ma’am you are the only member of this group bothering to make even the slightest bit of effort. For this I thank you.)

Of course! Thank you for putting two and two together like that for me!

(Wait a second, I’ve just realized that we’ve got the KBS slung on our hip! That’s amazing!)

And this lady’s and gentleman, is why we don’t let people who know those involved stand on the Jury.

GET HIS ASS JUROR NO.4!

(You are my favourite juror, you can tell the others if you’d like.)

Excellent work Ryunosuke!

Have you not even been listening?

(Susato is explaining the last ten minutes to him because she has more patience than I ever will.)

>:D

And Juror No.2’s crossed over to our side as well!

>:D

And she’s doing it for much better reasons than Juror No.5!

Juror No.2 you’re winning me back!

Just two more jurors to convince now, so let’s go on to the discrepancy about how the victim was stabbed, and maybe point out that the body was left in the seat it was stabbed it.

Old Lady vs Jack the Ripper, here we go!

(Ten guineas on the granny!)

Haha! His knife got stuck in the table!

(I put it again that this man should have that knife taken away from him.)

Yes judge, and if we’d been allowed to go through the whole trial before the jurors jumped the gun, you’d have known that already.

Yay! We’ve won Granny Thickle back!

WHAT DO YOU THINK THE JURY IS SUPPOSED TO DO YOU NINCOMPOOP?!?

And he’s being really racist now.

Fortunately he’s also rubbing the rest of the jury up the wrong way!

Well I consider this to have been a success Ryunosuke.

Well given that the body was found on the seat and there was no blood on the floor... I’m going to say no.

He wants evidence.

Ok then.

As a wise man with a cool sword once said: I will shove it down your throat and make you choke on it.

(Yeah, we should really have seen Kazuma’s moral dubiousness coming...)

Anyways, let’s show him the crime scene photo then.

WRONG???

Of course! The autopsy report shows he was only stabbed once!!!

Meaning that there was only one incident where the witness was stabbed!

VICTORY VICTORY VICTORY!!!

YEAH!!!

Yes, kill each other!

My Lord, Juror No.3 has started licking his knife and threatening the witnesses now...

I’m a little bummed we didn’t get to convince Juror No.4 seeing as she’s the one putting in the hours up there, but never mind. We’re back on track baby!

HE CRUSHED IT!

Oh my god Ryunosuke, we’ve got a prosecution shut up button!

HE THREW OF HIS DRACULA CLOAK!

Oh please, we all know perjury doesn’t exist in this here!

Oho, so apparently Beppo’s been overcharging his customers. Given the conditions he’s been working in I can’t exactly blame him though.

Unfortunately that does kind of rule out the possibility of an extra passenger though, so I’m not sure it helped us much.

Damn right I do!

‘Absolutely’ Ryunosuke and I share one mind.

Now let’s see if we can clear up that whole ‘I saw the victim stabbed on the floor’ bs.

You know, I’m rapidly warming to Mr Furst. Unlike the other witnesses and the god damn jury, he’s not telling lies, or overinflated by his own self importance. He’s actually taking it seriously and doing his best to be as clear and close to factual as he can.

I mean he could well be the killer for all I know, but right now I’m just enjoying him as a nice gentle guy who’s trying his best. It’s refreshing.

Barok’s trying to point out that we still have one witness who saw the stabbing, to which I say: Yeah, a witness with a reason to lie!

Still, Beppo’s the one I should probably be focusing on here, as he’s saying he saw the victim stabbed in places he couldn’t have been.

Well that was easy.

Mr Fairplay on the other hand is going absolutely ham on his cane.

What’s the matter Mr Fairplay?

Got something to say?

Again Mr Fairplay, being a banker in an Ace Attorney Game is not the commending statement you think it is.

Anyways new statement time!

And what’s this I see? Both his hands were covered in blood? That looks like a new contradiction to me!

You know he’s weirdly insistent about this, and I can’t work out why?

Like, regardless of whether or not he committed the murder, he’s clearly hoping that Mr McGilded’s going to be taken out of the picture as a result.

But if he wants that to happen then this is such a weird thing to lie about. It doesn’t add in any way to Mr McGilded’s ‘guilt’, in fact thanks to his gloves it kind of does the opposite.

But if he’s not lying then he has to be mistaken and I don’t understand what that would mean either.

Wow, Juror No.6 is ready to throw down!

(Juror No.3’s going off as well, but I don’t think that’s anything to write home about.)

NOT IN THE WAY HE REPEATEDLY SAID IT WAS!

I’m no longer so sure. After all, if he was it would be far more in his interest to keep quiet about it or say he was mistaken as soon as we bought the gloves out.

What I’m beginning to wonder though, is if there was a mysterious fifth passenger after all, and their hands were the ones Mr Fairplay saw covered in blood.

Come to think of it, he did say that he didn’t see the victim or killers faces, so that’s a good chance, and one that actually gives some hint as to what our suspect looks like: i.e. small.

Debt time.

IT’S A HUGE DEBT!!!

Good to get proper conformation on that theory then.

ORDAAR!

(If you don’t know about the House of Commons cry of Order you should look it up on YouTube. It’s basically the one good thing to have come out of that place.)

So he did lie about seeing the moment the victim was stabbed then. I guess that leave more room for the idea that the fifth passenger did it.

Actually, come to think of it did Mr McGilded ever tell us where he went to sit in the carriage? Could he have been on the open side, the one Mr Fairplay and Mr Furst couldn’t see from where they were?

Huh, he’s still doubling down.

Again I really don’t think he’s lying here, but I do think he’s mistaken about who’s hands he could see.

Also given how much this statement relies on him being a witness I should probably rule him out of my enquires.

I’m rapidly going back over my notes to see if I ever accused him, but let’s be honest here I did. The False Accusations counter is up to a nice healthy 5/5.

Of course Mr Furst, you’re an angle and we’re all thrilled you’re here.

Ok, well now any doubts I had that Mr Fairplay was telling the truth have been put to rest, thank you Mr Furst. You, me and Susato should form our own breakaway courtroom, Juror No.4 can come if she likes.

Anyway time for more testimony.

Certainly looks that way doesn’t it My Lord?

Now Barok want’s to examine the Omnibus again.

You know what, sure Barok, knock yourself out.

Barok, keep up. It literally a huge contradiction sitting right there.

YES IT MATTERS!!!

Well thanks to Mr Furst, the one good witness, we know that the real killer wasn’t wearing any gloves. Again Mr Furst I thank you.

Wait a second, there was a space under the seat opposite the victim wasn’t there. I know it was full of stuff but was there any room for someone to fit themselves?

Barok’s telling me that there was no trace of blood on Mr McGilded’s actual hands. I’m glad you’ve finally caught up Barok but stop talking now so I can examine the omnibus again.

Yes! A space!

And whoever it was who could fit inside there definitely fits the category of small!

And right on cue it’s time to bring their blind spot to light.

Now, I need to work out if they want to know about the space under the seats or if they just want the seats themselves, because from where Mr Furst and Mr Fairplay were sitting they couldn’t see either.

Fuck it, I’ll just put my cursor half way between the two and hopefully it’ll except whichever one it wants.

Haha, yes... exactly what I was going to say...

MY EVIDENCE IS THE FUCKING BLOODIED GLOVES!!!

Anyways, given that the killer was by all accounts sitting next to the victim with no gloves and bloodied hands, the only person who could have been in the concealed seat was Mr McGilded. Again, did anyone actually bother to check which seat he sat in?

Well done Judge. Still as sharp as ever I see.

Wow, that one hit the light!

Barok, that’s alcohol. If you start a fire in here I’m not going to put you out.

Oh he’s being racist again.

Racist stuff Ryunosuke.

Ok, well let me brake this down into words that a stuck up prick like you would understand. The witnesses never saw the attackers face, but they did see his hands and all agree that they were covered in blood. My clients hands were not covered in blood, and therefor he doesn’t fit the one thing we know about the killer. However we know he was on the omnibus, and the only place he could have been is in the seat that can’t be seen.

... you guys, I think this man might be the OG “protégé” prosecutor. Hugh O’Connor and Sebastian Debeste were simply trending in this mans footsteps.

I’m not really sure how much clearer you want me to be My Lord!

(Also ORDAAAAR!)

Van Zieks is still crawling blindly towards the light, and I suggest we just move on without him.

I know (or at least I hope) he’s just deliberately putting up barriers as the prosecution, but the way he’s doing it really looks like he’s packing his intelligence onto a bus and sending it out to destinations unknown.

(Credit to Ryunosuke for spelling it out for him though.)

Thank you Mr Furst, I knew you’d have my back.

THEN LET’S BRING HIM INTO COURT!!!

(ORDAAARR!!!)

Yeah on what grounds?

I mean this is literally the solution to all our problems.

Yeah, well he probably lied (though I can’t work out why).

Excellent point Ryunosuke!

Now Van Zieks is pointing out that if Mr McGilded lied in his statement there would have been a deliberate reason for doing so. To be honest, as the prosecution, this seems like all the more reason to bring him in.

Anyway we’re demanding his testimony.

WHY THE HELL ARE WE ASKING THEM?!?

Well luckily for us the jury seems to finally be getting its arse in gear and has agreed (fairly unanimously) to let the god damn defendant make a statement in his own murder trial.

Nothing to say here. This just feels like a meme.

HAHA!!! THERE WAS SOMEONE!!!

EAT MY SHIT BAROK!!!

Wait an urchin?

Ace Attorney, I’ve already had a ‘don’t feel good’ case regarding who I’m accusing, don’t make me do that again.

STOP MAKING ME ACCUSE POOR AND FRIGHTENED CHILDREN!

Yeah, they probably would have done, and unlike you I don’t think she’d have been able to pull the ‘I donated a park to this city you know’ trick to win hearts and minds.

I wonder if she was there as a passenger or as a stowaway? Because I’d say that gap under the seat could fit a child pretty easily.

Now Barok’s saying we have no reason to believe Mr McGilded. And he’s right except for, you know, all the evidence...

Wait what.

A smoke bomb just went off!

I really don’t like the face Mr McGilded pulled just then, and he definitely gave a signal for it to be dropped.

...Ah fuck, he’s guilty isn’t he.

And he’s using some kid to cover it up.

Well shit...

#tgaa spoilers #tgaa #the great ace attorney #the adventure of the runaway room #ryunosuke naruhodo #susato mikotoba #barok van zieks #magnus mcgilded #bruce fairplay #lay d furst

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hillchill · 3 years ago

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ACS S03E09 Are we there yet?

I thought we had seen the last of Linda Tripp, but apparently we are rotating waffles and slimming down with her

ML: “I’m going [with the dress choice] for ‘not a deranged whore’” well.... I wouldn’t use the second expression, but maybe I would use the first one, especially since you think he’s sending you a message through the choice of his tie.

Ok, yeah, recounting one’s sexual relationship to a grand jury sure would be awkward and they’re doing everything to make you sympathise with her before that part starts.

They’re really zooming in on the black women on the grand jury, aren’t they? I wonder why (I mean, as it was written on discord, probably because they’d be less lenient when it comes to issues of infidelity?)

Haha there’s a spreadsheet! Is that the one she wrote with Tripp? If yes, darling, you thought it was a good idea at the time!

ML “I wanna hide under this table…” well, you do have experience in that field, don’t you? (I am being so vitriolic, I know)

ML while slightly crying: “He was sunshine”. Ok, but urgh, so wrong.... also, why is the ML/WJC relationship so idealised here, whereas WJC/HRC don’t even hug? It’s not a fair depiction at all

Annnnnd there’s a black juror who gave ML the stare. I can only agree with you.

The part about dry cleaning the blue dress never really made sense to me. I half think she kept it as proof and that’s all.

Thank you madam foreperson for saying what everyone was thinking.

Well, about ML not wanting to have another relationship with a married man, wasn’t there someone who knew her before she came to Washington that she already had an eye out for WJC and was kinda in awe of his presence? I might be wrong, but if anyone can find the source and write it in the comments I’d be grateful

Ok, this thing about being 25 is just so overplayed to me. She’s not a kid! There are adolescents serving life sentences in the USA because they’ve been tried as adults even for minor crimes, but you aren’t mature AT 22?! OR AT 25?! give me a break! I graduated from medical school at 25 and at 26 I already had 1500 patients depending on me as their family doctor: this immaturity excuse is total BS

Ok, WJC also reflected more than once about the media’s treatment of Monica. I couldn’t give you the dates/occasions and maybe he didn’t do it right away, but this portrayal is unfair to him. Also, ML is the one who went on Barbara Walters or on Larry King all chirping about how dreaming WJC was and how in love she was and so on.

Urgh this thing with the women of the jury that are first aginst her, then understanding, is clearly done to emotionally manipulate the viewer into agreeing with ML, instead of thinking back to episode 7 and how dumb it was that she didn’t call for her attorney or didn’t leave the hotel

Paula Jones is having a nosejob. Why do we care?

Yeah, we’re back to HRC and WJC, honestly I think I kinda prefer this trainwreck to watching ML? In the sense that I’m used to seeing the media portray them as an unloving couple, which I know is true BS, so this is safe territory because at least there shouldn’t be major surprises. And yes, HRC didn’t say “my husband, the President”.

Kinda loved Bill’s monologue, hated “HRC”’s reception because: 1) she’d definitely would have given him a hug halfway, when he sid he felt dead inside half the time and 2) she wouldn’t have said “is that all?” at the end, but she would have acknowledged the courage and strength it took to say all that out loud and she would have known there was a chance for them. But apparently, the most misunderstood character in this whole series is definitely Hillary, because although Bill comes off sometimes as a cold manipulator (and I’m still not sure he partially isn’t, in real life), he gets to have emotional speeches that are somehow true to character like this one, whereas “Hillary” gets to only have coldness and fury, forgetting she has vast swaths of softness, if only one goes barely beyond the mainstream description of her.

HOW COME WE’RE ONLY HALFWAY TROUGH?! THIS IS TORTURE. I’m just glad that, after this, we only have one episode to go. I just hope they don’t fuck Hillary up some more.

Yes! Finally! Dump his ass, Paula!

ok, but seriously? ML: “That’s my fantasy, to have the Creep wear one of my ties everyday [of the week]”

Ok, but if Linda says ML was “obsessed with WJC’s lack of contact” and Tripp is the one who had to listen to all of Monica’s whining, can we at least be on the same page that Monica was, in fact, obsessed, despite what she tells herself and the Grand Jury’? [she’s not a crazy obsessive stalker and so on]

Linda made the “abuse of power” argument and it’s clear that the framing of this sequence disagrees with her take, so I guess that the cinematography and director are going against what their producer (Monica herself) says, about her relationship being based on a power imbalance and therefore to frame as part of the MeToo movement.

UUUUhhhh, Linda is in total deranged mode and just linked the Clintons to the death of Vince Foster. Urgh.

Still another almost sterile interaction between the Clintons. One has to ask how did they manage to even conceive a daughter if they won’t even touch fingertips.

So, the cigar is mentioned and yeah, she acknowledges it was kinda her idea. I don’t know if I have anything else to say on the matter, other than that’s probably a recipe for a yeast infection.

I appreciate the parallel/image of putting Broaddrick’s case as a footnote. Honestly, I am still uncertain about that one, because I’m all for believing victims or presumed victims, but it doesn’t seem to jam with who WJC is at all (he drank the “respect women juice” decades earlier, in a time where it wasn’t fashionable at all, so I cannot reconcile what I believe his persona to be to what JB says. Also, I’m again wary of her for partecipating in Donald Trump’s stunt at the second (?) debate against Hillary).

THANK GOODNESS WE ONLY HAVE ONE EPISODE TO GO AND THEN THIS WILL BE OVER!

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me-and-your-husband · 4 years ago

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Need Someone Part 6

Summary: The trial begins.

Warnings: age gap, mentions of kidnapping and attempted sexual assault, mentions of a rape kit

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Note: Lets say reader is 18 and in senior year.

NOT BETA READ!

I swallowed the large lump at the back of my throat as the trial began, my hands clasped together in my lap, palms sweaty. Andy grabbed my attention as he cleared his throat and stood up, giving me a knowing glance before approaching the jury. He drew in a breath before beginning to recite his opening statement, and oh how hard I tried to keep my gaze off his toned body.

“We are all looking for the same thing here, justice. That’s what I’m here to do, get justice for the young woman over there, who had any sense of safety in this world stolen from her when the defendant kidnapped her and held her captive for three days,” he said, gesturing towards me with his hand. The sudden overwhelming feeling of all eyes on me caused me to stare down at my hands, focusing on my breathing. “He tried to strip her of her innocence, take away the one thing she’d never know had been taken. And he almost succeeded. I’m here today to tell you the truth, and its up to you if you choose to listen, or to turn a blind eye to a young woman who’s life has been put on hold due to the defendant. Please, listen to the case and you will understand why the defendant is indeed guilty, and we can bring a sense of twisted justice to the plaintiff, Y/N Y/L/N.”

A few nods came from some of the jurors, some hums of acknowledgement, and some were harder to read. Andy let his statement sink in for a moment before taking his seat beside me. He placed his hand on top of my sweaty one. To an unknowing person, someone who wasn’t Andy or I, it would have been completely platonic. But Andy and I hid a shared look in our eyes, a reassuring look. He pulled his hand away from mine when the defense attorney began his opening statement.

“We are all gathered here today to find justice. But I’m here to bring justice to the name of the wrongly accused Robert Haddock. I’m here to convince you all that the plaintiff killed Robert after an unrequited sexual interest transpired at 1271 Aspin Way on the 7th of October.”

My head snapped towards Andy, and with panic in my eyes I asked, “Did you know that the defense was taking that approach?”

“No. No, I didn’t,” Andy answered, eyes trained on the defense attorney and jaw clenched. He ran his hand over his face and rubbed his temples as the other attorney continued.

“You’ll understand that Robert is the victim here, not Ms. Y/N. So, if you pay attention, hopefully you’ll see the truth, and you’ll understand that this is nothing but a desperate cry for attention on the prosecution’s part.” I let out a shaky breath when the attorney looked my right in the eyes with a cold, dead stare. I took my head in my hands as Andy platonically put his hand on my back in an attempt to calm me.

Being the only witness, I was on the stand pretty much the whole time. This meant that all Andy could do was send me reassuring glances from across the room. He’d give me a soft smile and a nod, and I’d nod back taking in a deep breath.

When it came time for him to question me, I was prepared. We had rehearsed what to say the few days that he had been with me after it all played out.

“Ms. Y/L/N, it’s true that you were walking home from your friend’s house that night, correct?” I froze. We didn’t talk about this, but I still answered honestly, the judge beside me a constant reminder of the oath I took when I got on the stand.

“Yes,” I stated simply.

“And who was that friend, Ms. Y/L/N?” He asked me with wide eyes. Why would he ask that when it’s very possible for him to just leave it out completely? Doesn’t he know that he’s dragging his own son into this?

I gave him a look of confusion, in order to communicate silently the message of, “what the fuck?”. He just nodded and mouthed for me to answer the question.

I took in a reluctant sigh. “Jacob Barber.” The jurors let out what sounded like a collective gasp. Some covered their mouths in shock, some didn’t regard it. Andy nodded with his eyes on the ground, one arm on the lectern I was stationed at.

“Your Honor, I’d like to call Jacob Barber up to the stand as a witness after the defense has a chance to cross examine,” He said directly to the judge.

“Mr. Barber, you do understand that you’re talking about your son, here?”

“Yeah. Yes, I do.” Andy nodded, eyes shifting back to me.

“Alright, if that’s what you want to do. Are you done here?” The judge said quite judgingly, to put it ironically. Andy gave a swift “Yes, Your Honor,” and gave me a grin before walking back to where we sat earlier. My brows were raised in an extreme sense of confusion, wondering why he would put Jacob on the stand. My thoughts were cut short, when the other attorney I found out to be Mark Grimm approached me for the cross examination.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said. I gave a small “hi,” back in acknowledgement. “This is probably very hard for you, so I’ll try not to overwhelm you too much, alright?” He said, flashing a million-dollar cocky smile at me, making me turn my gaze to my fidgety hands.

“You’re nervous. Why do you think that is?” He asked me, back completely turned to everyone else, yet speaking loud enough that the whole courtroom could hear.

Andy stood up abruptly. “Objection! Relevance,” he called out.

“Sustained,” the judge said monotonously.

Mark sighed. “Alright, alright.” He removed himself from his place directly in front of me and began pacing the floor. “So, Ms. Y/L/N, have you ever been romantically involved with someone?”

“Objection!” Andy almost whimpered out.

“Mr. Grimm, where are you going with this?” The judge said, tired of the antics.

“Please, Your Honor, you’ll see.”

“Alright. Objection overruled.”

“So, have you ever been romantically involved with someone?” he badgered.

I gulped down the lump in my throat, giving Andy a worried look. His hand was rubbing his beard anxiously, something that shouldn’t have turned me on in this situation, but it did.

I pulled myself back to reality. “No. Not officially, no.” I answered, looking anywhere but his eyes as he paced with his hands behind his back.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never been in a relationship.”

“But you’ve had feelings for someone?”

“Yes.”

“So it would be fair to say that you know what romantic feelings are, you’ve felt them and would act on them. Yes?”

“I guess so.”

“When you first encountered Robert Haddock, did you have these feelings for him?”

My snarky answer died in my throat with offense. “Objection! Relevance?” Andy shouted in frustration.

No reply from the judge.

“With all due respect, Your Honor, you’re not seriously considering letting him ask her that?” Andy questioned, at his widths end.

“Sustained. Mr. Grimm, I’m cutting short this cross examination. We will pick up tomorrow with Jacob Barber’s testimony, as well as a few pieces of evidence. We will also hear more from Y/N Y/L/N herself. Court is adjourned, see you all here tomorrow.”

I stepped off of the podium and avoided the prejudice eyes of the jurors and the few members in the audience. I slid passed people as Andy packed his briefcase, and I made it out of the courtroom before him. I pushed open the doors to the front of the courthouse promptly. The chilly air hit my face and I held my hand against my stomach, the urge to throw up growing on me. That is until I felt a large hand grip my shoulder.

“You alright?” Andy said, voice laced with concern that also showed in his eyes.

I huffed out a solid puff of air, accumulating in front of our faces. Despite the slight Boston chill, the sun shone bright, highlighting all of his perfectly chiseled features.

“No,” I whimpered out as I shook my head, letting my emotions spill out all at once after keeping them bottled up for so long. Hot tears stung my eyes, cascading down my cheeks and dripping onto the pavement. Andy set his briefcase down and wrapped his arms around me, burying my face into his neck. My hands grabbed at his shirt as he placed his chin on my head.

“It’ll be okay, shh,” he whispered reassurance to me. He finally moved our heads so he could look at me. “What can I do? What do you need?”

I took a breath in, looking everywhere but him. His hands cupped both sides of my head, and I could smell the aroma of his musky cologne evermore. Taking a deep yet shaky breath, I met his eyes.

“I just…I…” I swallowed and placed my hands on his. “I need someone, please.”

He kissed my forehead and placed his head back on mine.

“Let’s get out of here. We can talk somewhere more private, okay?” He asked me with a pleasant smile, to which I nodded my head fervently. He led me to his car as I wiped my face with the back of my hand. I’d pay the fee for my car tomorrow. I just needed him right now.

On the ride to wherever we were going, he called Laurie and told her he’d be home late.

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@sunflowercaptian

@zaddychris

@ilovemarvel-andcats

NEED SOMEONE TAGLIST

@zaddychris

@sunflowercaptian

@lexeeehhh

@kelbabyblue

@lovelivelife128

@kalesrebellion

@princess-evans-addict

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

@wesleypiper

@unnuevosoltransformalarealidad

@sherlockinand

@sunnydisposition-08

@rosalynshields

@denisemarieangelina

@a-golden-sunflower-volume-6

@helenaeisenhower

@charmed-asylum

CEVANS/ CHARACTERS TAGLIST

@patzammit

#chris evans x reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber #cevans #chris evans #defending jacob #cevans x reader

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nanagoswife · 4 years ago

Text

Bending The Law - Part 1

Summary: You’re a lawyer in Gotham. You are supposed to uphold the law, but you defend the unlawful to help out the underworld. It felt like your duty as your father was apart of it. After a huge case, it leads you to a new place.

A/N: This is the first time I’m keeping a story to a specific character. If there’s any tips or pointers you have, I’d be more than glad to hear them. Enjoy!

“We find the defendant,” your heart was pounding. So much of your time was taken while trying to keep your client out of jail. The juror continued, “not guilty of first degree murder.”

The breath that you were holding in escaped you. All the tension and stress from these months was released at the words. Overwhelming joy filled you while looking at the happiness in your client’s eyes.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. You’ve done so much for me.”

“It was my pleasure,” you leaned in closer. “Try to be more careful next time.” A smile spread across his face and he gave a small nod before joining the small crowd that supported him through the trial. There were a few new faces in the group, you noticed.

You turned away and packed everything up. The notepads, documents, they all went into the case you carried with you since your first trial. This case, though, had been the toughest one yet. Yes, you represent many people from the underworld of Gotham, but it didn’t really bother you. You grew up with it.

Your father was the head of some criminal group that you never knew the name of. All you had known was, when you were still a teenager, he had allied with another criminal empire so that he could spend more time with you and your family.

“Excuse me,” a voice sounded from behind you. Turning to the voice, you saw a man with short white hair and a few scars on his face. He seemed familiar for some reason. “On behalf of our boss, we thank you. We really needed him.”

A small grin appeared on your face, “I owed him this.”

Confusion slightly showed on his face at your words. You told him about how he once covered for you in the past. He was a childhood friend and gave you a few alibis to keep you out of trouble from your father.

“Ah. Well, thank you again.” The man nodded and joined the rest of the group who waited at the door for him.

Before they walked out, your client gave you a wave. Smiling, you waved back before turning to your case and packing the last few pens and whiteout. There was someone you were meeting and you’d be damned if you were late.

Running up the doorsteps, you rung the doorbell. Looking at your watch, you were relieved to see you were a few minutes early.

The door swung open to reveal your sister. “For once, you’re not late, kiddo.”

“You know my job eats up my time, sis.” A laugh chimed from her as she tugged you into her house. You almost completely fell to the floor from the force.

Your sister, Kristy, strode towards her kitchen with a skip in her step. There was no doubt that she was grabbing a drink for the two of you. One thing you had noticed was that your sister was dressed up.

“Did you have a plan for the night that I didn’t know about?” The question was one you needed an answer to. Usually you’d leave it be and just go with the flow, but you were expecting that you were just going to a regular restaurant.

Kristy turned around and held eye contact with you before speaking, “We are going somewhere to not only get food, but also party, kiddo.”

“I thought all the bars around here had crappy food. We already tested this out long ago,” you said. Not only were you confused, but you dreaded having to eat the terrible food they all had.

“Hell no. There is one place that I’m sure you’ve heard of.”

“What did we miss?”

“The Black Mask Club,” she said with excitement. “A friend of mine told me about it.”

“And by friend, do you mean Zach?” She gave a sly smirk as she started towards you. Reaching you, she took your hands in hers.

For a moment she stayed like that. You saw she was trying to choose the right words, “Yes. He’s also meeting us there.”

Kristy seemed to shrink as if she was waiting for a negative response. Honestly, you didn’t care. It meant that you could get out of having to actually talk all night. Your sister seemed to only ever talk. So, you were more than happy to know you wouldn’t be the only one on the receiving end.

The only answer you gave was a shrug. Slowly, a smile grew on Kristy’s face.

“Is that what you’re going to wear?” she gestured to the blue dress you wore.

“Why? Is something wrong with it?”

The smile reappeared on her face, “No. It’s amazingly stunning!”

“Hey, boss!” Roman turned around to the voice. He was greeted by Zsasz who was still closing the distance between them.

Seeing that he was lighter in his steps made him optimistic, “I hope there’s good news.” He was glad that the club hadn’t opened just yet. It assured that they would be able to have this conversation without any prying eyes.

“The greatest actually. Michael was found not guilty!” A large smile spread across Zsaz’s face, “That lawyer fucking pulled it off!”

A great sense of joy filled Roman. Michael was valuable and he couldn’t afford to lose him. He wanted to know who the lawyer was. When he offered, Michael had turned down using one of Roman’s. He said that he already had one.

“That’s spectacular news! Just for that, we’ll let him celebrate. Anyone who he brings that was supposed to be stationed tonight, get it filled.” With that, Victor nodded and started arranging anything and everything Roman told him.

Watching Victor disappear, he decided he’d wait to ask about the lawyer. He wanted to thank them in person. Hearing about it all from the news and Victor, he knew how much work was put in to get this result. It only costed months of non-stop work to find any little thing that would show innocence.

Sitting down to think, a martini was brought over. Not only did the lawyer amaze him, but he admired the dedication. Instead of paying off witnesses or judges or finding a way to tamper with something, this lawyer went deep.

They didn’t play dirty, they did it the hard way and searched for any loophole that would apply. Yes, he wanted to meet them. For now, he’d celebrate.

“Are you sure they’re actually going to have good food?” Honestly, that was the only thing you really cared about. The trial you had only let you have cheap takeout and delivery. After it all, you really just wanted a decent meal.

Kristy was about to reply, but got distracted when she saw Zach walking towards them. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes once they met each other.

Zach waved hello before taking your sister into his arms. Uncomfortable, you looked away to where you saw the line for the club. How had you never heard of this place?

“Come on,” you heard Zach suddenly say. Being the third wheel, you walked behind them. A small chuckle came from you as you thought about the relationship those two had. They weren’t exclusive, but more like friends that got some fun when they wanted. It didn’t really make sense to you.

Walking to the front of the line, the guard at the front let you all in and gave a nod to Zach. Loud music filled your ears as you walked into the club. The sight of everyone dancing, drinking and talking all around made you smile.

Your arm was suddenly pulled, “Follow us, kiddo. Zach got a table reserved for us!” Resisting the urge to roll your eyes again, you obeyed.

Almost instantly, a waitress came over to take your drink order. Thankfully, there was a great assortment of real food. Joy filled you.

After some time, Zach and Kristy left you to go and dance after enjoying their own meal. Not feeling up to it, you just stayed and sat at your table. It gave you time to admire the red setting.

Red, that was a great choice for what you usually saw going on at clubs. Passion, heat, joy, activity and love. What type of love? It didn’t matter. All you knew was that it represented what clubs really were in many ways. Even in the darker aspects.

“Y/N!” you suddenly heard a voice yell your name. Looking over, you saw your client, Michael. A smile spread across your face as you watched him make his way over to you from his group.

Giving a small laugh, you stood up and hugged him. “Let me guess, celebrating today’s victory?” you said while pulling away from your long time friend. His own smile spread across his face.

“You know it. Now let me guess. You’re here with your sister who ditched you for or with a guy.”

“Well, you know Kristy. Always having fun,” you replied sarcastically.

Laughing, he placed a hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t you come with me. I’m sure my friends won’t mind. You are basically my sister after all.” Lightly he pushed your shoulder with a playful tint in his eyes.

Shrugging, you accept. Michael’s smile grew bigger as he gestured for you to follow him to the table he was at.

Roman arrived to a very lively Friday night crowd. Usually he would’ve been pleased, but annoyance was the only thing tugging on him. Not because of visitors, but because of the situation he just had to deal with. How he wished he could just kill the clown.

Going to the bar, his drink was immediately placed on the counter. His eyes searched around to spot any issues at all.

A smile played on his lips when he saw Michael and his group. One person caught his eye. There was a girl laughing along to the conversation they were all having. She looked very comfortable with the group.

For a moment, he studied you. You were amazingly beautiful. His mind started to wander as he continued to study your features.

Roman wanted to know more about who this girl was. He was glad that he had a reason to go over there anyways. Ever since Zsasz told him the news, he had been caught up with phone calls. Michael deserved a personal congratulations for his victory.

“So, Y/N, how the hell did you pull that victory off?” one of the men asked after settling his laughter.

“A shit ton of Chinese food,” you replied, still laughing. The entire group burst out in their own laughter.

It died down as soon as someone said, “Here comes the boss.” Following Michael’s gaze, you saw a man in a white suit with some sort of floral button-up shirt walking towards you. One of his gloved hands raised his martini glass as a greeting.

“My, my. Look who it is,” Michael stood up as the man started talking once he was close enough. They shared a firm handshake.

“Roman Sionis, I would like you to meet Y/N Y/L/N.” You stood up and exchanged your own handshake, nervousness slightly filling you. He was someone you only knew through reputation. “She’s not only like my little sister, but she’s the one who worked tirelessly these few months to keep my ass out of jail,” he exclaimed.

A surprised but pleased expression wiped Roman’s face. Your cheeks went red at the compliment, “I was just doing my job. I also owed you for all you did for me as kids.” Playfully, you pushed at Michael’s shoulder.

“Well, I greatly appreciate your dedication, Y/N. Would you like a drink?” Roman asked. There was something in his tone that made you feel like you couldn’t refuse.

Smiling up at Michael, you gave him another nudge before looking back at Roman. “Sure. See you in a bit Mikey,” you said as you walked towards Roman. He gestured to a path that led to the bar.

@stardancerluv @jaydenwoo

#roman sionis pov #roman sionis #roman x reader #black mask x reader #bop #Ewan McGregor #fanfic #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis x y/n

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nitewrighter · 4 years ago

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Humble Pie

None of the prompts in my inbox are currently speaking to me, so I decided to fill in a gap in my fic continuity and write something non-shippy. So here’s McCree’s recruitment into Blackwatch!

-----

It was the most crowded the Panorama Diner had been in god-knew-how-long. Overwatch agents and local law enforcement mingled in a mix of blue and beige, some clustered around table booths hasty laptop and holo-comm stations, some pacing about the floor, talking on their own comms and headpieces with officers back at Watchpoint Grand Mesa or even as far as Zurich. The most crowded Panorama had been, and no one was eating.

Well... almost no one.

“You sure you don’t want any?” said Gabe, pressing the side of his fork into the slice of apple pie, sectioning off the flaky crust and gooey filling.

Jesse McCree frowned sullenly at his own plate, his own slice of pie already in a puddle of melting vanilla ice cream. He moved to pick up his fork and the chain of his handcuffs clinked with the movement. He glared up at Reyes from beneath the brim of his hat, but Reyes kept calmly eating.

“It’s good pie,” Gabe said with a slight shrug. The corners of McCree’s mouth pulled inward in a repulsed little scowl.

“Ain’t you got anything better to do?” McCree growled. There was a pitchiness in his voice that spoke to the last miserable ekes of puberty in all their acne-speckling glory still clinging to his scrappy form.

“Oh we’ve got all the time in the world,” said Gabe with another forkful of pie.

“Where’s Ashe?” said McCree.

“Her folks posted her bail, and I have a stack of forms from her family legal team roughly as thick as your head that forbid me from saying anything further on her involvement in this incident.”

“Oh,” McCree huffed a little and eased back in his seat, “Guess that means they’re coming for me next,” A smug smile eased onto his features, but Reyes didn’t seem to respond to that, just let McCree’s words sit in the air between them as his fork scraped across his plate, gathering bits of pastry and melted ice cream dappled with cinnamon.

McCree first basked in the silence as victory, but as he noted the lack of reaction in Reyes, doubt crept in slowly. Reyes gently set his fork down on the side of his plate and looked up at Jesse. The calm eye contact from Reyes was all it took for Jesse’s nerves to bubble up in his throat.

“I mean... “ a short nervous laugh rippled out of him, “Th-that’s what they said, right? They’d be representin’ me, too?”

Reyes said nothing, just gave him a steady look.

“Right?” that pitchiness sharpened in his voice, nearly making it crack.

“...it’s a tough truth of this world, kid,” Reyes said, leaning back in his seat slightly, “Don’t get involved with rich kids. They can buy their way out of trouble, but you...”

“No--” McCree interrupted him, “No--there’s--there’s been a mistake. Ashe said--she said---”

“Maybe there was honor amongst thieves out here, under an open sky,” said Reyes with a weary shrug, “But I can’t say the same in the US legal system. And it’s a story jurors would love to hear: the pretty, oil tycoon princess just wants adventure, just wants attention, she gets mixed up with the dastardly local trash... falls in with a bad crowd... oh but she can change, she just needs another chance--it was Jesse McCree doing all the work, anyway, it was all his idea. Is that even his real name? Oh but don’t worry, 12 years in a maximum security cell oughta straighten him right up.”

All color had drained from McCree’s face. The look in those eyes would have been heartbreaking if Reyes wasn’t well aware he was a little shit.

“So that’s the stick,” said Reyes, picking up his fork, “Do you want to hear about the carrot, now?”

McCree tried to bring some hardness back to his expression, but his brow was still crinkling, realizing just how easy it was for Ashe’s family to throw him under the bus and how he had refused to see it for so long.

“...I ain’t a rat,” said McCree, staring down at the pie, “’sides, not like I can give you anything useful anyway.”

“I’m not looking for information,” said Reyes, “I’m looking for insight. A sharp eye. A steady hand.”

“Fresh blood,” McCree tilted his head up a little. Reyes gave a small single nod.

A small scoff escaped McCree. “You can forget it. I ain’t a narc and I ain’t cannon fodder.”

“Did I say I was looking for a narc or cannon fodder?” Reyes pointed a fork at him, “Overwatch has plenty of those in our ranks already, rebuilding after the crisis is going to take more than bright-eyed button-up dumbasses star-struck by propaganda,” Reyes set the fork on his plate again and pushed it aside, now picking up a binder that had been on the seat next to him and flipping it open to CCTV photos of McCree. One was of him fixing up a dilapidated hover bike, another was of him carrying groceries in both arms for an old woman, and there were several photos of non-lethal gun wounds, “We had to do months of research to pull off this sting operation, and you know what I saw? Guts. Resourcefulness. Resilience. The ability to defuse high-tension situations. The ability to convince other people towards your own goals. The marks of a man who lives by a code... or at least is starting to. You wanted to be the goddamn Robin Hood of Route 66, but you’re young, you’re cocky, and you’re sloppy, and now you’re here.”

“You know how many ‘you have so much potential’ weepy speeches I’ve had to sit through?” McCree muttered.

“I don’t know, but I can guarantee you that whether you say yes or no, this is the last one,” said Reyes.

McCree’s glance fell down to his handcuffs. “It’s like that, then?”

“It’s like that,” said Reyes.

McCree was silent for a long time.

“I can give you the usual spiel--three square meals a day, roof over your head, travel the world and meet new and interesting people, top notch combat training--but you’ve heard all that shit before, and that didn’t convince you then, so there’s no reason it’ll convince you now,” Reyes went on, “You had fuck-all to do around here, but it wasn’t like you were going to join Overwatch or the army just to get out of here--you didn’t want to get out by fitting into someone else’s mold.”

McCree made a near-scoffing “hm” noise that hinted at a smile.

“Did I read you right?” said Reyes.

“Fuck you,” the words came almost warmly out of McCree and his eyes were fixed on Reyes with a pensive curiosity that made Reyes wonder how interesting the conversation got out here in the middle of nowhere. McCree rubbed his chin, with one hand, the cuffs forcing his other hand to lift and hang lazily with the motion. “...y’know, I saw you in all those Crisis propaganda movies... thought you’d be more like Morrison.”

“Morrison can have all the clean-scrubbed soldiers he wants,” said Gabe with a shrug, leaning back in his seat, “Me? I want the survivors. I want the cockroach motherfuckers.”

McCree snorted at this.

“Dying for a cause you believe in,” Reyes followed up, “That’s easy. I saw loads of people do it... doing what needs to be done though... being willing to live with that shit afterward because there’s more shit to be done... It takes a certain kind of person to do that. And I’d rather have that person on my team than rotting away in a cell.”

“On your team,” McCree repeated, squinting skeptically.

“After the proper training of course. And there’s medical care. Dental. You get dental with the whole outlaw thing?”

McCree’s lips self-consciously closed over his teeth on instinct.

“And for what it’s worth, we’ll let you keep the hat,” said Reyes.

That smile tugged at the corner of McCree’s mouth. He resettled in his seat slightly, picked up his fork and sectioned off a bit of his own pie, now a virtual pile of pastry and apple mush beneath the melted remnants of its vanilla ice cream.

“Cockroach motherfuckers, huh?” said McCree, taking a bite of the pie.

“Working team name. Jack’s been pushing me toward ‘Blackwatch’ but what the hell does he know?”

“What does he know?” said McCree with a smile, taking another bite.

#overwatch #jesse mccree #gabriel reyes

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whenitsdarkweilluminate · 3 years ago

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Baku 2012 – Semi-Final 2

Host: Azerbaijan Slogan: “Light Your Fire!” Participants: 42 Voting method: 12-point system (50/50 system - combined) Format: 2 Semi-Finals / Grand Final = the top 10 of semi 1 & 2 + the Big 5 + host General Overview: This semi-final feels like a send-off for a few countries. 2012 is the last year we'll see Turkey and Slovakia participate, and the penultimate time for Bosnia. They don't come back until 2016 where they don't even qualify, so this effectively feels like the end for Bosnia too. SF2 is also heavy on the Balkan ballads – there's 4 of them! Including Serbia, Slovenia, Croatia, and Bosnia. North Macedonia starts off as one as well. Not to mention Estonia delivers one of the biggest ballads of the contest. So I guess it's not surprising that Slovenia and Croatia couldn't qualify. There sure are some discrepancies between the two voting methods here. The juries were not fans of Turkey (13th) or Norway (dead last), while the televoters felt cold towards Ukraine (17th) and less enthused about Malta (11th). The two countries missing out from the televote top 10 are Bulgaria (oof) and the Netherlands (sure?). And from the jury top 10 it's Croatia and Georgia (how????). Also of note, Croatia would've qualified over Norway under the 2016+ voting system. The one thing the jurors and televoters did agree on was putting Sweden at #1, unsurprisingly. The interval act stars the 5 most recent Eurovision winners singing a medley of their respective winning entrants, set to traditional Azerbaijani instruments. With the exception of Ell & Nikki leading a chorus of “Waterloo” – I guess they were saving “Running Scared” for the Grand Final. And of course Dima Bilan oversings “Believe”. The hosts do this golden ticket thing again to reveal the 10th and final qualifier.

✓ Serbia: Željko Joksimović - Nije ljubav stvar This is Željko's 4th Eurovision entry including his writing credits, and all of them have placed in the top 6 so far; with this one reaching 3rd. He also co-hosted the 2008 contest, so he's basically ESC royalty at this point. His previous songs were all breathtaking and otherworldly in their own ways. The stage setting really sold “Lejla” as well. “Nije ljubav stvar” is another majestic Balkan ballad from him, but it doesn't do anything new. The structure is kinda expected in how it progresses. Still, Željko gives a classy professional performance here. He includes rich traditional instrumentation as always. And the two halves of the song contrast each other well. So the song opens with a piano and violin focus. Then the first half of “Nije” is a delicately textured piano ballad, where Željko sings about his lover leaving him. He takes a mature and understanding approach in letting go. The instrumentalists also walk slowly and solemnly in the background during this. Then the drums and the woodwind enter to pick up the pace, as two violinists duel for space on the stage. This transitions into the intense, climactic, unrestrained second half. The percussion and the harmonies strike as an oncoming storm, as Željko sounds more emotional about the situation. Still, while this entry is skillfully crafted, it doesn't move me as much as I'd like. ✓ F.Y.R. Macedonia: Kaliopi - Crno i belo Speaking of songs with contrasting halves. “Crno i belo” changes from a soft piano ballad into an angsty rock song. But the genre switch is unexpectedly effective. The first minute is melancholic and wistful, where Kaliopi stands in the spotlight against a dark backdrop, as she yearns for the hesitant subject to embrace a romantic partnership with her. She feels it's obvious (“everything is black and white”) and they're denying their feelings (“I choose happiness, you choose sorrow”). Suddenly, the electric guitars send staggered jolts of electricity into the air, while the background illuminates, and Kaliopi commands “look into my eyes now”. It's where the song's tone switches to ardent determination. Then the tempo accelerates to let the anxiety release. The chorus inserts some jabbing violins to increase tension. The bridge adds a guitar solo, followed by Kaliopi unleashing a scream. Finally, the song ends by returning to the start. Overall, this entry is pretty kick-ass haha. Kaliopi's classical vocal style is suited for the piano ballad portion. So I love how she also leads the rock portion with such fierceness. Incidentally, “Crno i belo” is North Macedonia's only qualifier between 2008 and 2018. But it gave Kaliopi redemption after her 1996 NQ. × Netherlands: Joan Franka - You and Me The final chapter of the Netherlands's 8-year NQ streak. “You and Me” is probably best known for Joan wearing a Native American headdress on stage. She doesn't appear to have Native American ancestry, so it's really just cultural appropriation, and it was only 9 years ago. As for the song, “You and Me” is an acoustic guitar-lead campfire singalong. There's even a series of burning fire pits on stage to convey that image. When the first chorus hits, the indie folk instrumentation enters as the camera cuts to the musicians on the side of the stage. There's a fiddle, a banjo, an accordion, and a foot-stomping percussion beat. They eventually walk over to join Joan on the last chorus. In the lyrics, she reminisces over a childhood crush she had at age 5, and she reflects how they've grown distant over the years despite still living on the same street. It's a sentimental look back on how things have changed. The song has a clear melody, but it feels somewhat amateur? And I'm really not a fan of Joan's unrefined vocal style in this. It's especially noticeable in the quieted bridge. ✓ Malta: Kurt Calleja - This Is the Night Yeah, I don't think this needed to qualify. Was the foot dancing really THAT impressive? The routine involves Kurt and the guitarists shuffling their feet from side to side, and stamping their right foot down, all to the rhythm of that stuttered “ey – ey – ey – ey-yea” hook. It's a memorable gimmick, sure, and that hook is catchy, but it's so corny and “lame”. As for the song, “This Is the Night” is an early 2010s club banger. The verses follow a ball-bouncing synth. The chorus employs a “Marry The Night”-esque buzzing saw. And the bridge introduces a revving dubstep breakdown. There's also silhouettes of club-goers on the LED screen and the DJ on stage is rather excitable. I also like how the female backing vocalist waits until the bridge to make her appearance. But overall “This Is the Night” feels so bland and characterless and average. The lyrics aren't anything special – Kurt is gonna seize a second chance opportunity to win over his crush. His charisma doesn't win me over. There is a hopeful tone, but I just don't connect to it. And his falsetto shriek is unnecessary. × Belarus: Litesound - We Are the Heroes Yet again, there was controversy surrounding the Belarusian selection. The national televote was deemed fraudulent, so the original winner (“All My Life” by Alyona Lanskaya) was overturned. Litesound were chosen instead, with their song being re-vamped by Dimitris Kontopoulos. Despite all that, “We Are The Heroes” is still one of the most empty entries of 2012. The melody is mundane, the chorus lyric is cliche, and this quivery pulsing dance-pop production is generic. The song actually begins with a stately sound set against a royal blue backdrop. But it doesn't last. The message is about not getting discouraged by the world around you. The singer offers support in facing adversity. He labels us as “winners” and “heroes” as he pumps his fist in the air. And the performance ends with a pyro blast. But ultimately, it's too cheesy to land. It's not the anthem it's trying to be. And the song is the opposite of edgy for their rock band image – ie. the hair, the chain-link shirt, the spine-curved mic stands. It's somehow both earnest and unconvincing. Also, that moment where the guitarists lean horizontally during the “lose faith in gravity” lyric doesn't quite work either. × Portugal: Filipa Sousa - Vida minha Another underrated Portuguese entry. “Vida minha” was composed by the same team responsible for “Senhora Do Mar” (2008), so that would be why. It's stylistically similar. The song progressively escalates in intensity, and embraces a rich, colourful texture of traditional Portuguese instrumentation. In “Vida minha”, the accordion and the plucking strings drift in and out of the mix. They paint a vivid, romantic image of the Iberian seaside. But it's the percussion that really powers and sets the pace of this song. It's so persistent. It moves like heavy footsteps, as it reverberates and slams the surface. The song begins with a dreamy tone, as Filipa walks through the downtown of her city. But once her thoughts drift towards yearning to be with her lover, the atmosphere intensifies. The percussion becomes louder, the backing choir becomes ominous, and Filipa's vocal is powerful as her desires overwhelm her. The song then takes a necessary breather in the bridge, before transitioning into a very haunting final chorus. It's a very intense arrangement, but it never feels too dreary or overdone or too serious. It takes a compelling journey. ✓ Ukraine: Gaitana - Be My Guest This is... borderline annoying. The trumpets sound like elephants (or mountain alphorns) and Gaitana oversings it, in particular those “la la la”s. Or that big note in the bridge. Her vocal style reminds me of Anastacia. The production is kind of abrasive too, between the sprinkler-spurting synth and the wobbly dubstep second verse. “Be My Guest” is trying to sound HUGE, and that can be overbearing. Still, the song is bursting with inviting energy. The lyrics are about offering friendship and welcoming everybody in. Her big vocals sells the enthusiastic, celebratory nature of that. As does the thumping chorus and the trumpets. While the dubstep section keeps things fresh. The staging is well-executed too. The performance begins with the 4 LED screen blocks sliding open, alongside some regal strings and drums, as a way to announce Gaitana's entrance. The screens will also display a flash mob at the end. Also, the trumpet players are lively in the background. And her flower headband is a memorable look. In the end, “Be My Guest” finished in 15th, which is one of Ukraine's lowest placements ever. Random side note: this always makes me think of that song from the The Beauty And The Beast. × Bulgaria: Sofi Marinova - Love Unlimited Speaking of those Romanian crossover hits. This is basically just Inna's “Hot” mixed with “Mr Saxobeat”. But I mean that as praise. Dance club beats were everywhere in 2012, and this eastern Balkan style was a refreshing take. “Love Unlimited” opens with a distorted chant (which returns in the bridge). The verses then introduce the predominant rapid, pipping dance beat. The first half of the chorus drops down and builds anticipation (I love this part btw), allowing the second half to effectively release. Like, that chorus is hectic and claustrophobic. But Sofi keeps up with it. The way she lists off the phrase “I love you” in 10 different languages is fierce. It emphasizes the song's message about love and pain being universal regardless of societal divisions. Not the most original message, but the multiple languages aspect makes it unique. The “Za teb... za men... ZA TJAKH” hook is a strong one too. But... where was the budget for Bulgaria's staging this year? (Aside from the pyrotechnics). It looks so empty with Sofi alone on stage as she steps back and forth. It doesn't suit the song either. Ultimately, this lost out on qualifying due to a tie-breaker with Norway. × Slovenia: Eva Boto - Verjamem Slovenia's Balkan ballad isn't anything new, so I can understand why it was overlooked. Moreover, the staging conveys a story but it's a bit creepy? It involves a bunch of wedding dresses and very serious facial expressions. The performance begins with one of the backing singers chanting a hymn, while stalking Eva from behind. The first half of the song is a pensive moment, backed by harps and a growing orchestra, where Eva yearns to reunite with her ex. And she has faith it'll happen. This section concludes with the drums intensifying to a peak. Following this, the tense marching band rhythm starts, as the chanting lady ditches her veil and walks over to touch and stare at Eva again. Eva doesn't acknowledge her presence however. The next chorus sees the full backing join to give an ominous harmony. Finally, the outro, has the backing chant the phrase “Because I don't give up until the end”. This is where Eva declares her unyielding determination. Structurally speaking, this song is rather similar to “Molitva” (I stole that observation from a YouTube comment). But it never quite reaches the same impact. Still, this is a formula that usually works on me. × Croatia: Nina Badrić - Nebo Okay slotting Slovenia and Croatia back to back was just cruel. How was either going to stand out? They're both emotionally tense Balkan ballads that build to a powerful climax. “Nebo” begins as an acoustic guitar ballad, with Nina looking upset in a black funeral dress against a dark backdrop. Then the deep cello enters, followed by the grim church bells. Meanwhile, two backing dancers sway on either side of Nina. The song then undergoes a significant tempo shift after the second chorus. The drum speed up, Nina releases some vocal yelps, and the backing vocalists make a bigger presence. All while a giant bedsheet floats in the background. That bridge is a decent transition though. As for the lyrics, Nina doesn't think it's fair that her lover has moved on while she's still heartbroken. She warns that heaven will eventually punish him for it. It's a little too serious for my liking. Otherwise, the song is dramatic, and Nina injects some passion, but honestly I just find this entry pretty forgettable. ✓ Sweden: Loreen - Euphoria (winner review in Grand Final post) × Georgia: Anri Jokhadze - I'm a Joker The f**k is this mess? And why did the juries rank it in their TOP TEN? It's like a tacky, talentless Las Vegas show... featuring a jumbled, incoherent backing track. Seriously, this song indecisively jumps all over the place. And the transitions are so poorly sequenced. Weirdly, the song opens as an orchestral operatic number, with Anri standing in a red cloak. But then he ditches the cloak, as the production abruptly switches to this staggered set of blasts. Following this, there's a drum breakdown. Then the chorus ramps up the pace, where the jogging dance rhythm speeds on by... only for the momentum to slam to a halt. Then rinse and repeat. Later the song gets a bit funky(?). Anri also hops over to the drum and the grand piano like he can't stand still. The lyrics, meanwhile, are self-absorbed, where Anri makes a long list of his personality traits to sell himself to his ex. He makes it all about HIS needs. He just comes off as arrogant and unlikable. It feels forced. His singing is TERRIBLE. The “I'm just a womanizer / Let me be your supervisor” line is cringey. And there's no humour or fun or charm to any of this. The only part I kinda like is the “don't (don't) let me go (let me go)” hook. ✓ Turkey: Can Bonomo - Love Me Back Turkey's last appearance as of 2021, and what a weird entry to leave on. “Love Me Back” is a pirate sea shanty, where the backing dancers use their capes to collectively form the shape of a boat. *rolls eyes*. The Ottoman Empire had a history with piracy, so historically it fits. The opening instrumentation (which reappears in the bridge) sends an ominous signal of an approaching ship, thanks to guitar strings (which I believe is the Turkish baglama) and the drums. It's my favourite part of the song. Following this, the jubilant woodwind riff lightens the mood. The chorus uses the same melody. The verses, meanwhile, employ a boot-stomping percussion beat. It allows for some commanding stage presence. There's some cape choreography going on too. Anyways, the “oh... hey hey” hook, and the slow-down on “But you don't care” are effective. But what ruins this entry is Can's bleating vocal style. He sounds either pretentious or demented, especially in the bridge. The latter fits the “lonely drunken sailor” theme of the lyrics – “Love Me Back” is a story of unrequited love, where Can drowns in his sorrows, somewhere between desperation and denial. But his delivery comes off kinda snobbish. And of course there's the campy element. In the end, this was very much buoyed by the televoters; enough to place it at 7th overall. ✓ Estonia: Ott Lepland - Kuula Estonia's big vocal ballad finishes in 6th place, the same position as “Rändajad”. If “Suus” didn't exist, I'd say this was the dark horse of 2012. Ott Lepland won the 2009 edition of Estonia's version of the Idol franchise. So it's not surprising that “Kuula” is structured like a TV singing competition ballad. It's a slow piano ballad that puts Ott's vocals at the centre focus, as he stands against the dark backdrop, while the orchestra builds in the background. He finishes every stanza (aside from the first one) with a very grandiose and very elongated note. Meanwhile, most of the lines begin with the word “kuula” (“listen”), or something that loosely rhymes with it. The bridge deviates from this pattern, where the melody is less spread out. When the final stanza hits, the stage lights up and the drums take over. In the song, Ott advises observing your surroundings in the present moment, almost like meditation. But by the end, the message shifts: he's the one who wants to be heard. All in all, Ott's vocal climaxes are impressive, and his performance seems personable and confident enough, but the song is too slow and predictable. It was built to showcase vocals, and that's what it does. But vocals aren't my #1 priority. × Slovakia: Max Jason Mai - Don't Close Your Eyes And here's Slovakia's last appearance to date. I'm guessing they felt discouraged after placing last in this semi-final. I mean, sending a hair metal song was always going to be divisive. I'm usually a sucker for the rock entries, but this one is too hostile for me. The song literally opens with a screamo shriek... talk about an instant turn-off. It returns during the bridge as well. Moreover, the instrumentation is too harsh. The electric guitars in the verses are like an automatic rifle firing off. And the lead singer's voice is piercing and screechy. There's a lot of flashing lights too. The chorus melody offers a contrast to the harsher elements, but there's no hook. Instead this song is just a bunch of “noise”. Lyrically, “Don't Close Your Eyes” sees the narrator asking us to pray for humanity's spiritual salvation instead of turning a blind eye to the sins happening around us. I have no idea what the context of that is, but it sounds alarming, especially with a heavy metal/screamo texture. ✓ Norway: Tooji - Stay I was shocked when Norway came last place at the Grand Final. And not just cuz I stan “twink-pop”. Dance-pop club bangers were on trend for the time, and yes the 2012 contest is packed with that genre, but “Stay” is one of the catchier ones. The shout-outs of “SHOUT OUT” and “LOUDER” are strong hooks. The chorus melody sticks. But the most effective hook is the instrumental one – that bit with the three consecutive strings, where the third one squiggles off-course. It opens the song and closes the choruses. And it gives the song an identifying quirk. “Stay” was produced by Peter Boström – the same person behind “Popular” and “Euphoria”. The verses use a buzzing/farting synth, where Tooji confidently walks onto the scene. He heads downtown, succumbs to the loud music, and meets his crush. The chorus, meanwhile, injects frostier, split-up synths, as his anxious desires hit him. It's an engulfing Euro-dance production, and it captures that adrenalized club atmosphere of the lyrics. There's also a drum breakdown and pyro climax in the bridge. Just to switch things up. But the biggest criticism is Tooji's performance. He comes off as overconfident, and maybe not the best vocalist. But the choreography seems tight. And I gotta love those legs-wide-open hip movements. ✓ Bosnia & Herzegovina: Maya Sar - Korake ti znam Bosnia's penultimate appearance, and their most recent qualifier. It's also my favourite Balkan ballad of SF2. The atmosphere is simply gorgeous. It conveys a mood of fragility, and an image of springtime meadows, thanks to the gentle instrumentation and Maya's soothing vocal. She pours her fragile heart into this. “Korake ti znam” is an introspective song about a toxic divorce. The title translates to “I know your moves”; basically, she knows her spouse's habits by now. They're being secretive and distant, and they're blaming Maya for having issues with it. She's made to feel selfish for wanting more time together, and she's had to defend herself. The situation is left unresolved, however. I'd say the lyrics are well-written. On the musicality side, the opening few notes are a good intro. The first portion of the song is a piano ballad, where Maya sits at a piano, which establishes a personal feeling. The first chorus builds a bit of tension towards the soaring strings. This is where Maya begins to assert herself (“Don't ruin my day”). Following this, the bridge segues to a dreamy woodwind solo, as she departs the piano. Finally, the instrumental climaxes in the final chorus. I just love the mood on this entry. ✓ Lithuania Donny Montell - Love Is Blind This entry is probably best known for Donny taking the titular metaphor literally by wearing a damn (glittery) blindfold for half the song. It's not that subtle. Otherwise, this is yet another song that begins as a slow piano ballad; but the light touches of brass gives a lonely night lounge atmosphere. Then the first chorus teases a switch-up is coming. The tempo increases, Donny discards the blindfold, and the ticking percussion powers the rest of the song, alongside a disco-y backing. There's also tiny harmonica(?) nudges throughout, which helps the melody stick in my mind. This song has a throwback vibe to it; which is completed by Donny's tuxedo. He also shows off his dance moves and vocal capabilities here, without being extra about it. His cartwheeling and air guitar moments are cute. And his vocal tricks in the “I can't believe you're gone” part stands out. The LED screen, meanwhile, depicts silhouettes lightly dancing next to (stripper?) poles. In the song, Donny desperately wants his ex back, and he reveals in the second verse he cheated on her. But the phrase “love is blind” suggests this is a bad idea. His 2016 song is more energized, but the smoothness of “Love Is Blind” works too. Although the uptempo portion feels too short. My Ranking: 01. Sweden: Loreen - Euphoria ✓ 02. F.Y.R. Macedonia: Kaliopi - Crno i belo ✓ 03. Portugal: Filipa Sousa - Vida minha 04. Bosnia & Herzegovina: Maya Sar - Korake ti znam ✓ 05. Bulgaria: Sofi Marinova - Love Unlimited 06. Serbia: Željko Joksimović - Nije ljubav stvar ✓ 07. Norway: Tooji - Stay ✓ 08. Lithuania: Donny Montell - Love Is Blind ✓ 09. Slovenia: Eva Boto - Verjamem 10. Estonia: Ott Lepland - Kuula ✓ 11. Ukraine: Gaitana - Be My Guest ✓ 12. Turkey: Can Bonomo - Love Me Back ✓ 13. Croatia: Nina Badrić - Nebo 14. Netherlands: Joan Franka - You and Me 15. Malta: Kurt Calleja - This Is the Night ✓ 16. Belarus: Litesound - We Are the Heroes 17. Slovakia: Max Jason Mai - Don't Close Your Eyes 18. Georgia: Anri Jokhadze - I'm a Joker

#eurovision #eurovision 2012 #eurovision review

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anepiphany · 4 years ago

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the bau & jury duty: headcanons.

w/ @ellegreenawy

spencer reid: mutters under his breath when they get slight details wrong.

"do you think you know more than the judge or the lawyers?"

"actually, yes."

"in what respect?"

"in all of them.”

corrects people when they don't call him doctor.

"up next we need mr. spencer reid."

"that's doctor spencer reid."

shows his fbi badge when they ask him for id. would for sure be correcting the layers’ statistics.

"actually, that's not quite right. did you know..."

penelope garcia: would "somehow" never get picked for jury duty. in her words, it’s “magic”. she avoids the topic to the best of her ability, though.

“say, garcia, you haven’t had jury duty in a while, haven’t you?”

“o-oh, i guess i’m just l-lucky. it’s magic. oh look, i think that’s hotch calling me. gotta go!”

emily prentiss: emily would probably convince garcia to do the same thing for her that she does for herself and then once every few months take around 4 days off because of "jury duty".

"emily, you had jury duty this weekend, right?"

"yeah, i did."

"then why are you a lot tanner than you were last week?"

"...tanning lotion in my hotel bathroom?"

"sure, prentiss."

hotch or another bau member questions her about it sometimes, but they didn’t really care enough to actually check. emily was always there for cases and turned her work in on time, so it didn’t matter too much.

“hey emily, you really have jury duty a lot. didn’t you just go like 6 months ago?”

“yeah, must be my bad luck. i should go, gotta pack! yes, need a lot of stuff for the next four days.”

david rossi: rossi just sits there and does not give a single fuck. he doesn’t want to be there and makes sure that everyone knows that. he knows that his team is doing more important cases at the moment, but he’s stuck in this stupid trial. he’s the least involved with the other jurors.

"um, mr. rossi? what do you have to say for this?"

"hmm?"

"mr. rossi, are you paying attention?"

"mhm."

"well, you have to make a decision, it's a tie. it's all down to you now."

"well i don't really care. whatever gets me home faster."

"mr. rossi, do you know who you're talking to? i'm a judge."

"no, do YOU know who you're talking to? i founded the behavioral analysis unit of the fbi. and i’m a best-selling author to boot. what have you done besides sit here and be a pompous dick?"

"i-"

he might not be involved with the other jurors, but he’s definitely paying attention to the trial. the jury would be arguing and he’d make one point that ends up making them all stop talking and end up agreeing. he would also totally do the "hush, the adults are talking" thing that jj and emily do in that one episode with morgan’s cousin.

jennifer jareau: jj wins everyone over with pictures of her kids. she’s too pure to use it to influence other jury members (plus her morals wouldn’t let her either) so instead she just uses it to get really nice catering and bathroom breaks whenever she wants.

"and this is henry, he's 7. the other one is michael."

*everyone awws*

"and that tall one is spencer. not biologically my kid, but close enough."

"how old is he?"

"oh he's 32."

bonus points because she also has jack’s picture on her phone.

"so how many of these are your actual children?"

"depends on what ‘actual’ means."

as the trial goes on, she's complaining about people's incompetence, and the other jurors are so confused.

“is this the really sweet woman who was just showing us baby pictures?"

jj is also either fully supporting the prosecution or fully supporting the defendant. there's no in between. she listens to the evidence so she can decide it fairly, but once she has a decision she has a decision.

"i see this happen every day. i'm a profiler, for fuck's sake. can you not see how the defendant’s story was almost the same, word for word, each time he said it? it was clearly rehearsed. plus, he kept on looking to the left as he thought. it’s a possible sign that he was lying."

“the evidence clearly doesn’t add up! the prosecutor is creating a story out of nothing.” *proceeds to poke holes in every part of their argument until the whole jury is nodding along with her*

aaron hotchner: a little like spencer. he would totally be making comments about everything, because he was a prosecutor. they’d be quiet though, under his breath. he never actually corrects anyone, but you can definitely hear him muttering. sometimes it's a trying-to-be-helpful tone and other times it's a you-dumbass-what-are-you-doing tone.

"no, no. that's not the argument you want to be making."

besides that, he’s pretty much silent. when the jury is discussing, he’ll make one statement and give his opinion and then shut up unless he’s directly talked to. very few times, he’ll get mad or frustrated, like when the case is especially bad or the trial isn’t going well, but he’s still polite about his displeasure.

derek morgan: honestly a lot like jj. decent, upstanding citizen. wins over all the grandmothers. he helps them to their chairs, walks them to their cars, helps them get food, etc.

“hello, i’m derek.”

*cue grandmothers swooning*

he also gets the phone number of every single girl there, regardless of age. but when he starts dating/marries savannah, every time a girl hits on him, he just shows a picture of hank so everyone just simps instead. (he might get those girls' numbers anyway just to offer them dating advice.)

"look at you, hot stuff!"

*shows his lock screen, which is a picture of sav and hank*

"oh, my bad."

“but if you’re ever in need of dating advice, i’d be happy to help.”

he always makes sure justice is delivered, even if that means going against what most other people think. and he’s very vocal about what he thinks.

#criminal minds #headcanons #bau team #jury duty #bau team x jury duty #spencer reid #david rossi #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #derek morgan

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shimmerfall · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1: A Shocking Gambit

"Hey, watch it, creep!"

"Oh, sorry! I-I-sorry!"

On an average day, bumping into a person and knocking them over would warrant more than a stuttered apology. It would definitely warrant more than an apology that was shouted back at the offended party while the perpetrator was sprinting down the sidewalk. And normally, said perpetrator would be remiss to offer anything less than his sincerest condolences for engaging in such rudeness.

"Stop right there!"

Unfortunately, the man didn't have the time to offer any of the dozen or so people he had offended in this manner anything more than quick remorse. The men that ran after him, garbed in cobalt blue uniforms, were gaining quickly. Where the man had to struggle and shove his way down the busy morning street, people nearly jumped out of the way of his pursuers.

Clutching a satchel close to his chest, the man turned down the nearest alleyway and hoped against hope that it wouldn't lead to a dead end. Still, even with more open space to run at full speed, the uniformed men were closing the distance. After emerging from the thankfully open alley and onto a far less populated street, the man searched desperately for his next escape route. At the end of the block, he spotted a fire hydrant, and whispers of a plan began to form in his head as he reached into his satchel and pulled out a gray, disc shaped object.

"Everyone, get away from there!" the man shouted at the few people down the street, then turned a dial on the disc and lobbed it at the fire hydrant. The disc began to hum and spark as it flew through the air, and bounced as it landed near the hydrant. Before the object could touch the ground again, it exploded, scarring the pavement with large cracks and destroying the fire hydrant. Water rocketed from the ground and onto the street as the man ran towards it. Once he reached the torrent of water, he looked back at the men and waited for them to catch up.

The men slowed as they approached the man, stepping into the growing puddle while brandishing metal batons. "Was this your plan?" one of them asked. "Think we ain't willing to get our boots wet?"

Instead of replying, the man took a step back, tossing a disk from his pocket into the growing puddle. The uniformed men waited a moment to see if he was going to run, and once they were satisfied he would not, they stepped forward to apprehend him.

"Hell, if you were just gonna give up anyway, why the whole—aaauugh!" The head of the group cut himself off when he saw that the water they'd been walking in only a moment ago had become electrified. Each of the uniformed men could do little but grunt with clenched teeth against the pain coursing through their bodies.

By the time the shocks had subsided, the men had either fallen to their knees, panting, or were flat on their backs, outright. The head of the group looked up from his position on the ground to confirm what he'd expected, and saw an empty space where the man was before.

"Dammit!" Another of the group said, lying prone and breathing heavily. "They didn't tell us he was a bright-eyes. What kind of sloppy intel are they giving out?"

"Don't think he was," a third man said. "Ain't no use complainin', anyhow.'' He looked up, and was unsurprised to see a figure fly overhead from one building to the next. "We just gotta rely on the foremaster now."

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

After checking behind him one final time to ensure his pursuers were incapacitated, the man slowed to a stop, clutching his satchel to his chest as he tried to catch his breath. While he composed himself, he took a moment to figure out his next move, as many of his options were no longer viable, with less available to him each passing moment.

'I can't believe he summoned the Jury on me!' he thought. 'The police, I might've been able to slip by for a few more days, but the Jury?! Who knows what'll happen if they get their hands on me!' He looked at a nearby shop window and saw a man stare back at him with large bags under his eyes and dark circles around them, the reflection telling the brief but vital tale of someone who hadn't slept in several days. He traced his fingers underneath the bags, then sighed deeply. 'Wait... he summoned the Jury on me. Why would...?''

The man's pondering lasted only a few moments, and once he reached his conclusion, he loudly swore, cursing the past few days worth of needless panicking and sleep deprivation, for they both contributed to his inability to see the obvious truth. "God, I'm such an idiot!"

"Hey now, don't beat yourself up."

The man didn't get the chance to turn and see who was addressing him, since as soon as the newcomer was finished speaking, the disheveled fugitive flew face first into the window he was staring at. Whatever had hit him was enough to push him off his feet and slam him into the glass with enough force to crack it before falling to the ground. Dazed, the man tried to sit up, but his assailant planted their foot on the man's chest to pin him to the ground. The man looked up at who was crushing him, and the barrel of a gun filled his vision.

Past the gun was a man wearing the same blue uniform as the last group that had chased him down, only with distinctions. The most noticeable difference, besides the visor obscuring the man's eyes, was that while the previous group wore basic white boots, this new man had a metal exoskeleton on his lower body, with green tubes that ran down the sides of his thighs, wrapped around both shins, and ended at his heels. The gun itself had a similar design, with the tubes coming out around the barrel. Despite the situation, the downed man couldn't stifle the sense of pride in his chest that the equipment was deemed effective enough to be used in the field by higher ranked Jury members.

Of course, this pride could have also been the sheer irony at being threatened with this specific equipment, or the literal pressure of the metal boot on his chest. Either way, he chose not to dwell on the matter very long.

"You can't just write yourself off over a mistake or two," the armed man said. "You just gotta take it all in stride and try to improve for the future. Positive thinking, right? Though, I'll be honest, you definitely made one hell of a mistake, Mr. Greensly."

The man, Greensly, struggled underneath his captor's foot, but it didn't budge. "Please, you have to listen to me," he said, grabbing on to the man's metal clad leg. "I don't know what they told you, but it was all a lie."

"A lie, huh?" The man reached into a pocket on his coat and pulled out a folded document. "Let's see here," he began, unfolding the paper and scanning it for a bit. "Are you not Kenneth Greensly, assistant head of research and development for Verbradyne? And did you not, two days ago, threaten your superior with violence before stealing company property? All the info in this dossier, just a bunch of convenient lies, huh?"

Only after a beat did Greensly find the right words to respond. "I... well, okay, that's more or less what happened, but you don't understand everything, and if you would just give me a chance to explain, sir—"

"Ah, up-bup-bup," the man interrupted. "First of all, no 'sirs', thank you. Name's Jack Jarrick, Jack if I like you. Secondly, save your breath, Ken. I don't get paid to hear your life's story, we're just supposed to take you and your loot back to Verbradyne. Now, to make sure this is all on the up and up, ahem: By the will of order, the Magna Jury declares you discordant. Surrender to our authority, or be made to comply with force."

"Can't you see you're being used?!" Greensly pleaded. "We're both being used, but if you just let me go, everything can be sorted out! Hell, you can take me into the police station yourself, just don't bring me back to Verbradyne."

This gave Jack pause. The report had said the target was dangerous and armed, and seeing Greensly throw that disc bomb thing more or less confirmed that description, and seeing him electrocute his squad gave him more than enough reason to want to take him down. But wanting to go to the police? After all of this, what was going on that he would prefer being arrested over just giving back what he stole?

"Look," Jack said, lowering his weapon and relaxing some of the pressure he'd been placing on Greensly's chest, "I don't know what's going on here, but I'm just doing my job. Whatever side of the story you have to tell, you can tell it after I finish my part in this."

"I... I understand," Greensly said. "We all have our duties, in the end. This is yours. And this is mine." As he finished, he pushed up on the leg Jack was using to pin him, using every ounce of his strength. While that wasn't very much, it was enough to force Jarrick to stumble back. The Juror attempted to right himself, but for some reason, his left leg was stuck in one position, the knee joint of the exoskeleton refusing to budge, and he fell prone to the ground.

"That tech of yours is quite impressive," Greensly said as he stood up and recovered his satchel, which he'd dropped after being thrown into the window. "The Windleap Aegis: a dymatic support unit designed for high mobility in urban environments, made lightweight to accommodate that necessity, and considerably durable considering the previous two features. Wish I'd had time to work out some of the more crucial shortcomings, like the ease with which the joints can be forced to lock up if someone knows what they're doing."

He dusted himself off while backing away from the downed man. "It really would have just been as simple as adding a bit more plating here and there. Barely a loss in function, nothing even noticeable. Unfortunate, but the old man did complain that the client was a bit impatient for their gear. Though, I think that was pot and kettle talk, if you ask me."

"Oh, shut the hell up," Jack said, attempting to undo whatever Greensley did by hitting his armored knee with the butt of his gun.

"For what it's worth, I wasn't lying when I said I understood you. But as I said, we each have our duties. And I owe far too many people to get caught here by you." Greensly reached into his bag, pulling out another of the discs. He turned the dial on the disc, several times more than he had before, and as the last one did, it started vibrating and letting off sparks of energy.

When Jack noticed the device's movement, he ceased attempting to free himself and aimed his weapon at Greensly. "And to think I almost bought your 'two sides to the story' crap. You think I'm just gonna let you blow me up, you psycho?"

"Here's hoping you don't." And with that, Greensly lobbed the disc at Jarrick just as it began to shake and spark even more erratically than before. Jarrick had had his weapon trained on the fugitive, but switched his target to the disc, which had reached its peak in the air and was beginning to descend on him.

With no time left to decide otherwise, Jack pulled on a sliding mechanism at the top of his gun, producing a quick hissing sound as the tubes on the weapon bulged and inflated. Jack finished pulling the mechanism just as the explosive was less than a meter from his face, he pulled the trigger and unleashed a concentrated burst of air from his gun.

The blast carried more than enough force to launch the disc away from Jack, flying swiftly towards the man that initially threw it. Before it reached its new destination, however, the disc exploded, producing a shockwave that sent Greensly through the shop window and all the way to the back wall of the store, where he impacted with a hard thud before crumpling to the ground in a heap. Jack fared somewhat better, the explosion only throwing him a few feet into the street. He didn't escape without injury, though, as his head bounced against the pavement as he landed.

As both men faded into darkness, one slipped away from the waking world while groaning in agony. The other was, of course, also in agony, but managed a slight smirk of satisfaction before pain and unconsciousness overtook him.

-----

First chapter of the story I’m shilling. The rest of it is at the link below. I’ll probably post these up until the sixth chapter.

#novel #story #writing #fiction #little bit of the bubble #shimmerfall

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borisbubbles · 4 years ago

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17. CZECH REPUBLIC

Benny Christo - “Kemama”

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So first off, thank you for the nice commens. 😇The past few months haven’t been the happiest time for me, so thank you for your patience as I scraped my bearings together for another post! 😁

So I will now extend that same sympathy to Benny Christo, whom I think I damn fucking underrated. Let’s jump in~

ENTRY ANALYSIS

As one may expect i INSTANTLY liked “Kemama” because you know, it’s a fun, laid-back, tropical afro-breeze, completely different from anything else we would see in NFs and the year. EXACTLY the type of song I was hoping the Czech NF would deliver (and deliver they did, see NF Corner). This level of mild like swung into strong unironic like upon realizing that the title is a contraction of “Okay Mother” 😍 and the song deals with the subject of overcoming racially-tinged discrimination and rising above the hate. That just feels very poetic and apt? “Kemama” felt like the entry that had to overcome the highest odds in order to earn the respect it so fully deserves, and still hasn’t fully reached it.

.In our Western European bubble, comprised mostly of gays and left-liberal straights, we have a very grateful and universal acceptance of many different kinds of [lizard] people that make up Eurovision casts. Yet with “Kemama” we may have reached an unusually grimy undercurrent of coded racism.

Of course nothing I read was outrageously rancid, than Cod for that. The worst statement I read was a double-whammy of “EWW THIS ISN’T CARIBBEANVISION” and “WHY WOULD SOMEONE FROM *KENYA* WANT TO REP CZECHIA IN EUROVISION?”, and yes they first got the continent wrong and then *also* got the country wrong in the follow-up post and then they were torn limb from limb by a pack of aformentioned left-liberals. I’m sorry but i can’t not have any other response than laughter in the face of yet another fucking MORON faceplanting themselves with words like a... racist JK Rowling if you will?

Still, while I never read something outright vile about Benny doesn’t mean I found his deniers really annoying and they were! Think “Ew Solovey is ‘Too Aggressive’ it will NEVER DO WELL IN ESC”, a statement that isn’t coded nor racist (and yet extremely false and misguided), functioned as a similar idea by the same minds. A statement borne from the same breed of narrow-minded stubbornness which has caused elitist morons to be all “there is **SOMETHING** about “Kemama” i do *NOT* like and I cannot lay my finger on it... but I **DO NOT** like it at ALL. It won’t ever qualify because everyone will think the same way I do” -- Eurovision snobs, tiptoeing around racial coda in January 2020.

They would also insist that Benny was “arrogant” because he was seemingly impervious to their (de)constructive criticism. Like, if you were a biracial butterfly living in a slavic country who had to deal with statements such as the above on a regular basis, you WOULD block out the noise. And if you heard them often enough you will start to block them out pre-emptively. DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW COPING MECHANISMS WORK?? (oh wait you’re white-privileged. Nevermind 🙄)

So naturally, when Benny decided that he would revamp “Okay Mother” by adding in MORE African elements it only made me love him even more lol. 😍 Was it a bull-headed, contrarian and possibly really stupid decision? Yes, yes and absolutely yes. Was it worth it? Well he managed to incite even more meltdowns in a group of people I feel nothing but contempt for, so hell yeah? Eurovision was cancelled anyway so who cares how much ‘worse’ “Kemama” actually got.

Okay, so we’ve arrived at the revamp.

Granted, it wasn’t the best ‘vamp, I’d be a fool to deny it. The new elements threw a wrench in the melodic balance of the song. Out went tropical laid-back fun, IN went that fucking guitar oh my god this is some Hotel FM piano levels of overbearing I swear. (nb: this still didn’t stop me from ironically stanning Hotel FM’s lame asses anyway 😍). However, it made the personal backstory that I loved and savoured take a backseat to the now inferior composition. 😭

Regardless, New Kemama was fundamentally the same song, and I fundamentally liked Old Kemama, so whatevs, it made no different to me. In the eyes of many Eurovision diehards we were experiencing WORST PRESHOW SEASON EVER (after three songs... lol) and nothing clinches this brainworm more than a revamp announcement. “OH MY GOD HE WILL RUIN IT! I CAN GUARANTEE YOU I *WON’T* LIKE IT”. Self-fulfilling prophecies, ya know? It certainly didn’t help when the official channel accidentally uploaded a vid with broken soundmixing (‘OMG HORRIBLE LAST IN THE SEMI!!!!’ calm the ever-loving HELL down) and took another FULL WEEK to upload the correct vid. The damage had already been done. Typing "SEE I TOLD YOU THE REVAMP WOULD BE SHITE HA HA HA” in the Kemama comment box really just is the ESC equivalent of reponding with “Actually, *all* lives matter :smug:” to a BLM support pamphlet, isn’t it?

NF CORNER

While not my favourite NF of the bunch, I found the Czech NF to be lowkey epic. Not epic enough to remember its name but regardless Czechvision or whatever marked the end of an era because it was also the last selection spearheaded by Jan Bors :o

I think I’ve made it clear enough in the past that I’m somewhat mixed on Bors Era Czechia - Lake Malawi were a toetapping good, Ickolas was a pockmarked, skin-crawling evil and the other three inhibit a purgatory somewhere between “moderately nice” and “moderate timewaste.”

Still, I have great respect for the man who orchestrated Czech’s comeback after scoring NINE POINTS TOTAL across three years with the mindset of “So what? Why says we can’t win?” so ofc I was all into the idea of the “EIGHT INDIE ANGELS, HAND-PICKED BY BORS HIMSELF” NF that would serve as his swan song.

Naturally things went down the drain the second Bors left, with one of the eight peacing and his successor cancelling the live broadcast (does anyone remember what exactly happened? I vaguely recall one was the cause of the other but lol it’s July can’t be bothered to factscheck (Factsczeck?) anymore, bitches.

Anyway, ON TO THE GOOD STUFF, and yes, there was plenty.

We All Poop - “ All the Blood (Positive Song Actually)”

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Yes, as you can imagine I ofc IMMEDIATELY fell into like when I saw that chyron and invisioned the inevitability of the Czech Rep’s Rep immediately alienating every parent just based on their name alone <3 😍 w/e WAP quickly became that “Good but not great” song you find in every NF that everyone gushes over because it’s the whitest option available. Like, yes, “All the blood” is good, but musically it’s identical to Green Day and Twenty-One Pilots and god name ANY 90s-early00′s American Punk Rock band. For me the enjoyment came from the fact that WAP were openly crazy vegan fundamentalists and the VC clip actively condemns the use ANY animal protein by replacing the cattle and game with LITERAL HUMAN BEINGS. 😍 :fusedmarcintensifies: :kasiamosage:

Pam Rabbit - “Get up”

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Ohhhh YES a glorious experimental Synth-Trap song only I could love and ofc I did. God what is there even to say; the provocative darkness of the verses combined with the swirling amorphousness of the chorus gives me LIFE. LUFF THIS SHIT <3333 Ftr, this was also the fave of Slovene Juror duo / synth angels / Boris faves ZALAGASPER, further proving their pathetic naysayers that they own all things music and the haters can suck a series of-

Barbora Mochowa - “White and Black Holes“

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Lol, yes even with a “Get up” existing, there was a song I liked even more. Barbora proved a very competent Lana del Gay last year, but I was a YUGE fan of this year’s... Kate Bush-Björk blend of ethereal awesome. It is so soothingly beautiful and the rare example of a song that I find completely free of flaws. Were the competition not such a hard place, I’d be pissed she didnt win (at least she won the jury vote MASSIVE KUDOS to every alum on that) but w/e this selection had opions and I’m rather robbed of a “Kemama” than I am of a BRILLIANT IRREPLICABLE AETHERBALLAD. ~Danse balance sûr les white and black holes~

Elis Mraz & Cis T - “Wanna be like”

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I *VERY* strongly felt that if the Czech Republic wanted to win ESC, they should have picked Elis and even now I STILL believe she could have won. That isn’t to say I gushed over “Wanna be like” because I find it kind of annoying lol. Yes, I LOVE an annoying female voice (:Tones&Icackle:) but Elis’s reaches a Camilla Cabello sort of place for me (good lord get Senorita OFF the fucking radio) and the Scat + White Guy Rapping middle-eight. 😬. However, the second I opened up the video clip for this paragraph and was immediately BLASTED by Elis murdering a ukelele and wearing a “schoolgirl” outfit straight from a Japanese tentacle porn movie and OH MY GOD THE AGGRESSIVE TWERKING made me reconsider that hey, this min-sized Meghan Traynor actually kinda highkey owns, yo! Yet, I’m not at all bothered we lost her in the Czech NF because we got UNO DOS QUATRO CINCO SEIS :fatmansplit: fill up the megameme slot instead, so...

Eurovision 2020 vs Eurovision 2021

BENNY RUINED HIS SONG AND NEVER WOULD HAVE QUALIFIED. jk I’m not a moron. Sure, “Kemama” wasn’t an easy sell because you know AFROBEAT in a contest where half of the people watching are fash (ie: all of Eastern Europe, who watch out of ~Nationalistic Sentiment~ 😬), but there are Kemama live renditions out there and he owns them SO hard lol. A few soundmixing issues really would not have stopped Benny from qualifying in that RIDICULOUSLY WEAKSAUCE SEMIFINAL are you fucking kidding me. He probably would’ve bombed in the Grand Final, but I mean it’s Czech and it’s not Ickolas so ofc it would have.

And Czech renewed him for 2021 regardless of the sceptics, woohoo! I think part of it was due the Czech not wanting to re-organize an ENTIRE NF from scratch without Jan Bors, but probably also because Benny owns live when he isn’t engaged in psychological trench warfare with actual human detritus <3 and also because the Czech fucking CARE about their artists and don’t drop them like a sack of rotten potatoes wtfshitprus.

Can’t wait for the moment when he qualifies and Efendi does not, etc, etc.

FREAKY! FRIDAY! FACTOR!

I’d say that the core around which the Ben Drama spun was pretty standard fare: niche fave beats out the concensus fave, meltdowns ensue, people convince themselves it was the WRONG decision because it wasn the result they wanted, try to disown the song and make a fool of themselves because the song slaps, sorry. Even the revamp drama felt more of less generic for me, because yawn fantards melting down over a revamp of a song they don’t even like what else is new.

However, what I do take away that the revamp was ENTIRELY Benny’s idea which he told no one about (cue to JAN BORS having a social media meltdown like he’s Caesar at the Ides of March 💔) added MORE afrobeat just to troll his haters even more <3 God, I’d say it was bad from a musical perspective but this level of in-your-face defiance is fucking iconic and hilarious, sorry. This entire this year is so batshit bonkers that the concept of a someone potentially shooting themselves in the foot and “torpedo’ing” their qualification chances (not rly, he would’ve Q’d anyway lol) JUST to take the moral high ground in a racially coded argument only HE took seriously may not even be the craziest concept in the year! (lol it definitely isn’t. Look at the pics I haven’t greyed out yet)

This and more yield Benny some well-earned Senheads! Yay!!

Score: 3 Senhits out of 5.

#Eurovision #Eurovision 2020 #Eurovision Song Contest #Czech Republic #Czechia #Bohemia #Ben Christovão #Benny Christo

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