#is this suggesting we commited a felon together or is it suggesting that one of us did a judas?

[ceaselesswwatch3r]

"best friend is very us coded"

[duchess-of-mandalore]

Star Wars, friends. I know this is not why you follow me, but please make this my most shared post.

You are here.

We're living the lead-up to Revenge of the Sith, and it scares me so much a) it feels like there is so little we can do, and b) young people are acting as if there is nothing we can do.

If you don't know what's going on, I need you to wake up and get engaged.

I have two history degrees. My whole life I've always been the person saying, "When people say, 'This is the most important election ever," it just shows how little they know about history.'"

So please believe me when I tell you that THIS is the most important election (cycle, not just presidential race) that you will likely ever be a part of.

Trump is not Hitler. He's too stupid to be Hitler.

But our democracy only held together in 2020 because of a few people like Mike Pence who were willing to stand up against Trump when it was truly the last line of defense. I know that's hard for some of you to hear, but whatever you think of his beliefs, Pence showed he has integrity and stands by the Constitution.

There will be no Mike Pences this time around. Trump will not make the mistake of surrounding himself with those who are not fully committed to him.

Trump is a convicted felon. He is running to avoid his convictions and likely jail time more than anything else. If he wins, he will be able to pardon himself of his federal crimes, but he's going to keep acting like Donald Trump. If he's still alive in 2028, do you think he will leave the White House peacefully and just submit to further cases against him?

Please watch John Oliver's recent expose on Project 2025 and Trump's Second Term. It is linked in a comment below.

Trump and his administration are already putting in place plans for sweeping reforms that truly will make America look like The Handmaid's Tale. Presidents usually will push for more when they're in their second term because they don't have to worry about another election campaign, but this is different. This is about dismantling the democratic system so that it only benefits the most radical conservatives and Christians.

Christians, I am one of you. I was raised Evangelical (capital E meaning politically motivated culture warrior), and I am still evangelical (lower-case e, referring to theological beliefs). This is not the posture of Christ-followers. There is no good that comes from state-mandated religion, which both coerces people to claim that they are believers for social and cultural clout AND waters down the true religious fervor of the church because most people are only nominal believers.

There is NOTHING about Christian Nationalism that is in the best interest of Christians or in the best interest of the neighbors Christians are called to sacrificially love. If you need a reminder of who your neighbor is, read Luke 10:25-37.

Please start talking with your friends. Young people, please register to vote and bring your friends to do the same.

I know so many of you are disillusioned. I am too. Things that are going on in Palestine and Ukraine and so many other places make it very hard to vote for people with "D"s behind their names (especially after the recent presidential debate).

But punishing Joe Biden is not the revenge you want to pursue here. Are you unhappy with him giving Israel $12.5 billion? I am too, but do you think that number won't be repeated multiple times under Trump? Again, I was raised Evangelical. A staple of (politically-focused) Evangelicalism is that Christians (and thus America) must support (the modern state of) Israel no matter what because they have a hyper-literal understanding of the verse where God tells Abraham that he will bless those who bless him (including his descendants who became Israel).

Do not underestimate the importance of that view in their ideology. Nearly every member of my biological family has shunned me for suggesting that this is not a blanket endorsement of every action the modern state of Israel takes.

Trump is a criminal running for president to save his skin. He supports Benjamin Netanyahu, the prime minister of Israel who is now himself wanted for war crimes. Trump has aligned himself with the authoritarian leaders/dictators of Hungary, China, North Korea, and Russia. He is open about his love for Russian president Vladimir Putin's authoritarian regime and stands against Ukraine's democracy and national sovereignty.

This is what happened before World War I and World War II.

I know this isn't what you follow me for.

But George Lucas was showing the dangers of authoritarianism. He shows that democracy is hard. It's frustrating trying to negotiate with people you disagree with vehemently. It may seem like nothing gets done.

Go and watch the Naboo picnic scene. Go and do it. And after chuckling at all the funny memes it's given us, let me tell you why it scares me so much.

Because Padme laughs.

Anakin tells her who he is, and she laughs.

She passes it off as a joke, or as flirting, or maybe even as just the ignorant views of a boy who views life as far more black and white than she knows it to be.

But the alternative to all of that frustrating democracy, all that gridlock in the Senate, all those choices and compromises you have to make in order to benefit the people at all ... the alternative is a dictator who says, "I will make all the decisions for us."

That's why there are people who applaud Palpatine. That's why we as viewers see Bail and Padme as the reasonable ones and think it's crazy that anyone would applaud, but they do.

The applaud because Palpatine says, "You don't have to be frustrated anymore. You don't have to be worried about those who disagree with you anymore." Safety and security and ease are powerful temptations when you live in a polarized society, and Palpatine offers them all of those things.

That's why many people applaud Trump, too.

There were also people who applauded Palpatine who did see the danger of what he was doing. But they applauded because it was easier to do so. He had already amassed power because they didn't stand up to him before. They applaud him now because standing against him now would have dire consequences they wouldn't have faced if they had stood against him before.

So vote. And get your friends to vote.

If there is any part of you that believes Star Wars has important things to tell us about real life, then I need you to fan that flame into a fire.

Otherwise, you won't be living in the prequels anymore. You will be living in the time of the Empire.

Vote.

[sinnoman]

Letting Diavolo Go To The Human World Is The Same As Letting The Pigeon Drive The Bus… Do Not Do It!

tw: cursing. also, minus luke.

The Demon Prince’s fascination of the human world wasn’t a new thing to you. However, it did surprise you how much he did not know of the customs and cultures humans had. He’s centuries older than you can imagine and he’s never impulsively gone up there before?

When you asked him about it, he gave you wide grin. “I’ve only gone up there for conferences and meetings. I’ve never gone up there simply to have fun. I have so much work and it takes up too much time.”

You frowned a little disheartened that Diavolo hasn’t been able to experience or enjoy a trip to the human world without it being work related. You were about to suggest a proposition as Barbatos added on, “Speaking of conferences, your four o’clock meeting is about to start in ten minutes, Young Master.”

The bright smile on Diavolo’s face fell a little. “I’m sorry, MC, our weekly tea has to be cut a little short.” You reassured him it was no problem as he got up from his seat and walked you to the door. He told Barbatos to escort you to the House of Lamentation. The minute Diavolo was out of earshot, Barbatos leaned towards your ear with a strained smile on his face.

“The Young Master is able to do what he wants. However, no matter what he does, do not let him go to the Human World by himself and with no motive.”

You didn’t understand why Diavolo wasn’t allowed to go up there without being supervised. He was a grown man and the literal Future King of Hell. Surely, he could take care of himself. So a few days later you asked him if the two of you could to the Human World together and he agreed. What could possibly go wrong?

Oh, you were wrong. You were so wrong!

It’s been less than twenty-four hours and now the both of you are sitting in a jail cell. Your left hand was sticky, your clothes were damp with rainwater and you were sure the guard kept eyeing you up and down as if you were insane. Diavolo sat next to you with a guilty look on his face. He mouthed a “sorry” at you, making you giggle while tearing up at the predicament you both were in. He could only laugh with you as you laugh and cry at the same time.

When the guard had told you were allowed one phone call (courtesy to Diavolo for compelling him to do so) you immediately headed towards the jail phone and punched in the number. You were a little surprised that the Devildom phone numbers worked but you didn’t really dwell on the thought.

You just hoped the person you called would bail the both of you out.

LUCIFER

Sigh…

Someone get him five shots.

When you called Lucifer to tell him that you and Diavolo went to the Human World for a day trip, he was hoping you were going to ask him if he wanted anything before the both of you came back.

What he wasn’t expecting was (in less than 24 hours) for you to tell him not only have the both of you created an unnatural phenomenon, you managed to commit three felons, crashed a car that neither of you have a license to drive and managed to get caught of all things.

When you told him that you got arrested he was debating on letting you go to prison so you could learn your lesson. Then he heard Diavolo’s voice in the back and started choking on his wine.

How in the three realms did Diavolo managed to get arrested? And how did you (the one he thought was as responsible as him) allow this to happen? What do you mean you let Diavolo drive the car? He has a butler for a reason, MC, obviously hE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE—

Was about to lecture you about the danger you put yourself (Diavolo) in and what the consequences when he heard Diavolo’s, “I don’t want to go back.”

Immediately gathers everyone to go and pick you both up. Has the bail money ready to go, makes sure he thinks of everything that can go wrong and gives it a solution and prepares to drag Diavolo out that jail cell himself.

When he gets there he gives you a glare that could soil cheese in 2.5 seconds.

When he goes to bail you both and the guard tells him you both can’t be released tonight, he snaps. Immediately threatens the guards with the unholiest torture threats you’ve ever heard. The guard ends up caring a little less about his job and a little more about his life and let’s you both go.

Diavolo doesn’t leave the cell. Father help him, his patience is running thin.

The next two hours is just him, Barbatos and Diavolo arguing.

“Young Master, for the last time. Get out the cell.” “NO!” “Can we just leave him—” “Quiet, Belphegor! We cannot leave him. Lord Diavolo GET OUT THE CELL!”

MAMMON

Impressed but at the same time mostly concerned.

When you told him what happened, his face started to get paler with each word. How did the two of you manage to do all this in less than a day? And here he thought he was a troublemaker…

Then the words finally process in his head. “Ya got in a car crash?! Human what we’re ya thinkin’? What if ya died? I don’t care who was drivin’ I’m never letting ya near a car again!”

Looking and thinking for someway to profit off of this. Then realizes, as the appointed human watcher, if Lucifer found out that he let you get arrested ON TOP of Diavolo being there with you while he made money off of it, his head would be ripped off.

In a state of fear in panic for both his life and yours, he goes to pick you both up alone.

It’s not his first time encountering the police. He’s been arrested before for illegal gambles, dealing, fights and such its not hard to guess what for. He will tell you though that he’s actually not the first brother to get arrested.

When he gets there the first thing he does is rush to you and make sure you’re okay. He doesn’t really care that Diavolo is there too. He just has to make sure that you are okay. All human parts are intact? Okay. Good. Let’s go.

Then the guard tells him that he can’t let you both leave yet because you need to be trialed.

Uh oh. Frustrated Mammon is here.

Immediately starts arguing with the guard. He gets so angry he’s about to start throwing punches. That’s until the guards throws a handcuff on him and shoves him in the cell with you.

He gets a phone call too, though.

You tell him to call Lucifer or Barbatos and then Diavolo tells him not to call either of them because he really doesn’t want to go back. Suddenly, Diavolo and him are best friends.

You command him to call Lucifer though and he bites his lip. The ringing of the jail phone has his heart pounding. When the phone connects, the words spill and he mentally cursing at you.

Long story short, Lucifer is the one that gets you both out and leaves Mammon there.

LEVIATHAN

Immediately asks you why you called him of all people. Doesn’t hesitate to try and refer you to someone else.

Then immediately remembers it’s like that this is exactly like that one anime where the—

When you told him why you got arrested he got extremely nervous, ESPECIALLY when he heard Diavolo’s voice in the back correcting you when you left a detail or two out. Not because he’s of the intensity of the crimes but, because he knew Lucifer would absolutely strangle you.

Is already panicking and looking for a solution. Is trying to remember what his brothers had done when he got arrested. (Spoiler Alert! He was the first brother out of all of them to get arrested. He punched a child in the face at an anime convention. The kid snitched and told his mom, cough cough, little shit, cough cough. Does he regret it? Nope! In his opinion, the kid deserved it.)

He voices his anger when he realizes that he has to use manga money to bail you both out. How could you do this to him? He thought you were his Henry. Turns out you’re just a fish…

He blogs and video records the minute he gets up there. It’s going to go viral, he just knows it. Then he gets a message from Lucifer with a smiley face and a link to his blog and he’s panicking. He has to get you two out of there. NOW!

Simply just throws money at the guard, not really caring if you two can’t leave just yet. He’s getting you two out of there one way or another before Lucifer gets here. Listen MC he doesn’t care that he’s making things worse, he refuses to die without having his 93849281849th Ruri-Chan marathon.

Then the dilemma of Diavolo not wanting to leave hits him and his patience is running thin. Why of all people did you have to get arrested with the person needed most in the Devildom?

It becomes too late when he finally manages to start convincing Diavolo to come back home. Lucifer walks through the door.

And Levi summons Lotan.

SATAN

Mr. Agent of Chaos #1 is so proud and impressed with you.

Don’t get him wrong, he was worried about you. Getting arrested and caught for your crimes is a big deal. Yet, you managed to commit three felonies before you got caught? Love, he’s invested.

He has so many questions for you. What felonies did you commit? What was your favorite felony? How’d you get caught? What do you think was the first mistake you made that got you behind bars? If you could do this all over again do you think you would get caught? Here, let him get a pen and paper so you can tell him every little detail of what happened so he can make it fool proof for you.

Then, he here’s Diavolo say he’d be glad to provide the details of what happened and now he realizes what the big issue is.

Oh he can’t wait to hold this against Lucifer’s head. Wait, let him go tell Belphie!

He has everything prepared and is ready to bail you out. You knew he was reliable.

If you see him take a picture of the two of you curled up together in the cell. It’s for research purposes. Totally not for Belphie and him to hold against Lucifer. You can’t tell him to delete it, his printer is already making hundreds of copies.

Turns out Satan isn’t as reliable as you thought. This is because five minutes and a broken desk later, he’s thrown in cell too.

He knows he should get a call too but the guard doesn’t tell him he gets one. Starts cursing so quickly you can’t even make out the words he’s saying.

When Diavolo tells him it might be better that he doesn’t get a phone call, it clicks in his head. Who needs to be bailed out when you can just escape, duh.

He doesn’t even get to the good part when he sees his brothers, Simeon, Solomon, and Barbatos walk through the door. Turns out Belphie’s sleep talking doesn’t have a filter.

He gets a little upset after this whole ordeal. He didn’t even get to try his escape plan…

ASMODEUS

Honey, he can’t relate. It sucks to suck.

Like Lucifer, he has never been arrested. He’s been close to but whenever that happens he just distracts the police from doing it… wink wink.

He knows and seen how stingy police can be with arresting people so he immediately feels for you. And when you’re telling him why you’re in a jail cell, he immediately starts getting ready to come charm you out of that cell. Then he hears Diavolo’s voice.

On second thought…

He immediately has thoughts on how Lucifer would react if he found out he were some how involved in this. Yeah… no, he rather have skin blemishes for the rest of his life.

No matter how nervous he is, he marches his perky butt up there and goes to get you both.

When he gets there he immediately goes to baby you. Checking for any injuries and makes comments on how you’re wet and such. Then he takes in his surroundings.

You’ve been here for how many hours? Oh no. Honey, look. There’s rust everywhere, unidentifiable liquids on the ground. Ew, is that a dead roach caught in a spiderweb? Why were you sitting on the small bench they had? Do you know how many gross people sit on it too? Don’t even get him started on the smell of this cell. Once the both of you go home, straight to the bath.

He goes to pay the bail but then the guard tells them they can’t leave just yet. He knows it’s time to work his magic.

You owe him. The guard is grimy and smells like he hasn’t showered in months. Not only that they’re very persistent at about their job. Charming them is taking longer than he originally had planned.

And then he realizes that Lord Diavolo does not want to leave. Oh boy.

Explains that Lord Diavolo can go anywhere he wants after this, he doesn’t care. That was until you interrupted him saying neither of you can leave without him. He really starts to stress. Why did this have to happen to him?

Somehow and in someway, the both of you manage to convince the redhead to go home. When you get to the House of Lamentation, he’s pulling you straight to his bathroom.

BEELZEBUB

You made him drop his macaroons… his macaroons. He just got them… :(

He is so confused on how you managed to do all of this in a short amount of time? Then he realizes what you just said and he starts stress eating. Poor baby, you kinda regret calling him because it really stresses him out.

“What do you mean you got into a car crash? Are you okay? Are you sure? Don’t worry I’m coming to get you.”

Then he hears Diavolo’s “take your time” and now he’s really stress eating. Not only does he have to bail you out, he has to bail out Lord Diavolo too? Oh boy, the amount of stress you’ve given him is making him have stomach tremors.

He was thinking about getting the both of you alone. Then he started having thoughts of all the human world food and realizes he wouldn’t be able to go alone without getting distracted. So, he brings Belphie to keep him on track.

His frown grows deeper when he sees the two of you curled into each other in the corner of the cell. He ignores how Belphie’s laughing and taking pictures of you both before walking over to you two.

He didn’t bring any bail money. Like Levi, ignores how the guard is saying that they can’t let the both of you leave. Simply pushes the guard off of him when they try to stop him. He also rips the bars from the ground and throws them aside. C’mon, we’re leaving.

Then Diavolo doesn’t want to leave and that’s where Beel gets upset. He’s hungry, Lord Diavolo. He doesn’t have time to be fooling around. His stomach his about to make earthquakes.

In less than three seconds, he’s now playing tug-a-war with Diavolo. Trying to ignore the empty promises of royal dinners the Prince is throwing at him.

“Lord Diavolo, we’re leaving!” “I will let you have anything you want to eat from the Palace is you let me stay!” “WE ARE LEAVING!”

BELPHEGOR

He knew he should have slept through the phone call.

He was actually wondering where you were. You missed their daily nap session. If he wasn’t too tired, he would have gone looking for you earlier.

When you explain to him what happened there’s two opposing sides to his thought. On one hand he’s like “What do you mean you committed three felonies?” in an amusing way. Lowkey is kinda proud. The most he’s been arrested for is fight with some mom who told him he couldn’t sleep at some park with his pillow.

On the second hand he’s like “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU COMMITTED THREE FELONIES?” He’s stuck on the part on how you could have died in less than 24 hours. He’s more angry at the fact you’re making him worried about you then at the fact he has to go pick you up.

When he went to go get Beel so they could go pick you up, Mammon overheard and started making a whole commotion. You can only guess what happened next when eight demons, a sorcerer, and an angel showed up at the police station.

When he sees not only you behind bars, but Diavolo too, he’s really wishing he slept through your call.

He snaps when the guard tells him he can’t go home with you just yet. Starts picking a fight the guard. It’s a screaming match before it turns into fist fight. He’s not leaving here until he makes a point Lucifer. He’s winning this fight one way or another! You can’t stop him!!

When he hears that Diavolo doesn’t want to leave, he doesn’t care. He drags you out the cell and leaves the Prince there. Lucifer can deal with him. He just wants to go home.

When you guys do finally get to go home, he’s covered in scratches and a couple of bruises. He’s using you as a body pillow tonight whether you like it or not.

DIAVOLO

He’s so happy.

He doesn’t care that he’s committed serious crimes and is now sitting in this jail cell. He also doesn’t really care that it could potentially hurt his reputation as a ruler. He’s so happy he’s got come up here and do things he’s never done before. And he’s most happy that he got to do this with you!

And although it’s mostly his fault, he pretends as if none of it matters and keeps reliving the moments in head. (He’s sorry, truly. But when he gets so excited he just simply forgets about everything else and focuses on what he wants to do. Laws and regulations; out the window. It’s Diavolo time!)

At first you were more than a little upset with him. But then he couldn’t contain himself and started telling you about what happened today as if you weren’t there. The words are coming out his mouth so fast it gets to a point where he gets all tongue tied and he’s barely saying words.

He tells you every single detail all over again and every emotion he felt within that moment and thought he had too. And the more and more he speaks, that anger you felt diminishes. You’re happy that he’s happy and enjoyed himself although this day hadn’t particularly gone to plan.

Even when Barbatos and Lucifer come to pick you both up, he’s smiling through it. Especially when they both are lecturing you, it goes through one ear and out the other. He’s glad he was able to experience this.

Oh and don’t think it’ll stop here. He basically tries to convince you to go with him again.

BARBATOS

Longer sigh…

He warned you.

He told you not to do it and look what happened. He hopes you learned your lesson.

He also knew this was going to happen regardless of his warning. He tried preventing it, really. But no matter what alterations he made to the timeline, you both still ended in a jail cell.

When you told him what chaos the both of you have caused in less than a day, his anxiety spikes. You let Lord Diavolo drive a car? Of course he’s going to tell you he knows how to drive. Just because he tells you doesn’t mean he actually knows MC—

He’s upset with you but at the same time he feels for you too. He knows how his Young Master gets when he’s too excited. There’s nothing stopping him, he’s really the definition of one-track minded.

He tells you to give him a few seconds to gather a few things before hanging up. You thought it was going to take a half hour at most but then Barbatos is walking through the station door three seconds later.

The guard lets the both of you go willingly and with no money. You suspect it’s Barbatos doing and when you ask him about it, he acts as if he knows nothing.

Actually, he covers the entire mess completely by altering time. He can’t have people finding out Lord Diavolo had gotten arrested by human authorities, can he now? Nothing pops up when you search for news reports on the web.

He lets Lucifer deal with your punishment as he deals with Lord Diavolo’s. However, he does lecture you about it the next time he sees you. Oh, and the two of you alone together? Never happening again.

SOLOMON

You don’t get to finish your explanation before he’s laughing in your face.

Mr. Agent of Chaos #2 is so amused by this, he wants to hear exactly how you got yourself in this mess. He’s even more surprised that you allowed yourself to get caught. You have pacts with seven demon lords and you thought to not use any of them?? This is more entertaining than Asmo at a frat house.

WAIT DID HE JUST HEAR LORD DIAVOLO’S VOICE TOO?

He starts laughing even harder. The Demon Prince got arrested too? This is comedy gold. Wait a little while longer, he needs to document it for future references. Quick question: what type of unnatural phenomenon did the two of you create? Describe it to him.

He knows what the police are like but never has had to deal with them himself. He can’t be shady if he hasn’t avoided the police for a decade or so. What? He got tired of paying taxes…

He goes alone. When he sees you and the large demon smiling at you he starts to laugh again. It’s to the point where he’s wheezing and bending over. He wipes tears from his eyes afterwards. This is priceless. Please let him take a selfie with the both of you in the back.

He goes over to magically open the cell until the guard tells him he can’t do that and you guys can’t leave. He looks over at the guard and mumbles a few words in latin. Now the guard’s a duck, great. Nice going, Solomon.

When Diavolo tells him he particularly doesn’t want to go back the Devildom, Solomon doesn’t care. He can do what he wants as long as he can take you back with him. But when you tell him to help you convince the Prince to go back home, he sighs.

He threatens Diavolo about calling Simeon to come get him and the redhead is glaring at him but still walks out the cell. Great! Now everyone can go home!

So about that the phenomenon….

SIMEON

Three words: What the fuck?

How did any of this happen? When did any of this happened? What do you mean it happened today? The day’s barely ended! You got into a car crash? Are you okay?

Voices his concerns, deeply. Makes you feel so guilty about what happened today you start crying while the jail phone is pressed against your ear. Diavolo can only rub your back as he listens to Simeon thoroughly explain to you on why what you did was wrong and that you’re lucky he isn’t Lucifer.

He then hears Diavolo’s “Maybe calling Simeon was a bad idea.” Oh. Now he’s really upset. Doesn’t understand how Lord Diavolo allowed this to happen. You could have died, he’s not ready to see you in the Celestial Realm just yet! He tells you to pass the phone to the Demon Lord and you can’t imagine what Simeon is telling Diavolo that’s making him so pale. It’s your turn to rub his back.

When you get the phone back, Simeon tells you to sit tight and he’s coming to get you.

When he does get there, the frown on his face makes you feel even more guilty than on the phone. You could even Diavolo go stiff beside you.

When the guards tells him that the both of you aren’t allowed to leave, he’s super close on letting the both of you suffer the consequences. Yet, he tries to make the guard more lenient by guilt tripping him too.

When he hears that Diavolo doesn’t want to go back, it doesn’t take much for him to convince the Prince to go back home. All he does is glare at him and the redhead is walking out the cell with nervous chuckles.

When the three of you go back to the Devildom, he makes the both of you explain to Lucifer and Barbatos as to what happened within the last hour and why he had to go and pick you up.

TAGS: (sorry this is really long.. also don’t mind the grammatical errors I wrote this on my phone and actually less than 24 hours)

@beels-burger-babe

@mammonsemptycreditcard

@obeythebutler

@minteyeddevil

[marksburyscripts]

Season 1, Episode 1-- A Difficult Patient

Google Doc

Content Warnings: -Alcohol abuse -Discussion of intent to commit sexual assault

[Pre-episode announcement]

Hey, everyone! Before we begin, I just wanna give a quick heads-up. The Marksbury Incident will have some recurring themes that may be uncomfortable for some listeners, including depression, anxiety, survivor’s guilt, and murder, including that of a child. There will also be episode-specific content warnings in the descriptions of each episode. As excited as we are to share this story with the world, our main priority is always going to be the health and safety of everyone involved. But for now, take care of yourselves, and enjoy!

--

[Therapist’s office. Day. The recording begins, and there are a few seconds of awkward silence.]

NARRATOR

This is stupid.

THERAPIST

You haven’t even started yet. 

NARRATOR

What’s the point? How is this any different than what we usually do?

THERAPIST

I told you. Being able to go back and re-listen to sessions could be helpful. Maybe give you reminders about what we wanted to work on.

[Narrator scoffs.]

THERAPIST (Cont.)

If you have a better suggestion, I’d love to hear it. [He sighs] Look. If you don’t start working with me, I’m going to have to report it. I’ve been telling them that your post traumatic stress has been making progress slow, but it’s only a matter of time before they decide that it’s non-compliance. Not everyone gets this chance. Please. Don’t throw it away.

NARRATOR

...Fine. Fine, okay.

THERAPIST

We’ll just record this one for now and we’ll go from there. It might be a bit awkward at first, but it could help. 

NARRATOR

 ...Do you think they made the right decision? I mean, with what happened…. It’s not like it was a misdemeanor. 

THERAPIST

I think that they saw you the way that I do. A good person who made a mistake. You know better than anyone what kind of state you were in afterwards. And I think they realized that there wasn’t any real malicious intent.

NARRATOR

...Right.

THERAPIST

So you’ll cooperate?

NARRATOR

Yeah. Fine.

THERAPIST

Good. So you said last week you were going to go through your mother’s things?

NARRATOR

Yeah. I managed to do it.

THERAPIST

That’s good. How did it go?

NARRATOR

Okay I guess? Dad kept a lot more than I expected. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of much, but… some of the less sentimental things. Clothes, mostly. Things she never wore much. And… turns out she kept a lot of the drawings I did as a kid in a box under her bed, too. I saved a couple, but most of them I threw out. Then an old journal or diary or something that was in some weird mix of Italian and Gaelic, and a couple of pictures.

THERAPIST

Were the pictures of her?

NARRATOR

Yeah, mostly. There were some of her friend, too. Lauren, I think her name was? Laura? Mom would tell me about her sometimes. Here, I, um… I brought one. 

[The Narrator unzips his bag and retrieves the picture]

THERAPIST

Why’s it ripped?

NARRATOR

I don’t know. That’s just how I found it. There were a lot that were ripped, actually….  I-- I imagine it’s the result of a bad breakup or something.

THERAPIST

Makes sense. You were okay, though? 

NARRATOR

I mean, I had to take a few breaks during it. I think it took… four hours to go through the three boxes? 

THERAPIST

No shame in that. 

NARRATOR

I did have a bit of a breakdown after, though. But… nothing new there, I guess.

THERAPIST

When that happens, what do you do to calm down?

NARRATOR

Depends. On good days I grab a book and try to focus on that. 

THERAPIST

And what about the bad days?

NARRATOR

...Cheap whiskey and cigarettes. But I’ve been trying to quit.

THERAPIST

And after going through the boxes, was that a good day or a bad day?

NARRATOR

Somewhere in the middle, I guess? I promised myself I wouldn’t drink, so I went for a walk.

THERAPIST

That’s good. That’s very good.

NARRATOR

...Yeah. 

THERAPIST

...You don’t sound so sure about that.

NARRATOR

No, it’s…. It’s fine. It was good, it got my mind off of it.

THERAPIST

...Did something happen on your walk?

NARRATOR

Nothing you want to hear about.

THERAPIST

Try me.

NARRATOR

...You’re going to think I’m crazy.

THERAPIST

I’m a psychologist. Once again, try me.

NARRATOR

[He takes a deep breath] ...It was… maybe two in the morning? I-- I think that’s about right, I lost track around 12:30. I'd spent pretty much my whole day putting off going through the stuff, then the rest of the night either actually doing it or calming myself down. Mostly the latter. Then I kept running into some of my dad's things, as well, so that kept hitting me, too. I guess Evelynn missed some things when she was cleaning it all out. Or maybe she thought I would want some of it? I don't know.  Anyway, I'm getting distracted. I was walking past this bar a few streets over from my house. It’s not the most high-brow place in the world, so I made sure to cross the street before I got there. Never know what people will do when they're not thinking straight. Especially since… you know, I'm not exactly the most masculine or threatening person in the world. So I kept a safe distance. Nothing looked suspicious. I could see that the TVs inside had been switched off, so it must have been past last-call. Then I noticed. There was a woman leaning against the wall, doubled over. She had her hands in her pockets, and she was wearing this… deep red hoodie, with her hair hanging loose, covering her face. Even from so far away, I could tell that it was slick with grease, or… something. It was reflecting the streetlights. I think that’s what made me notice her, actually. The glint caught my eye.

NARRATOR (Cont.)

I wasn't about to judge, you never know someone's circumstances. I’ve certainly been in worse condition. I actually considered crossing the street to offer her what change I had in my pocket, but I didn't want to assume she was homeless and end up being wrong. Besides, nothing weird about someone hanging out outside of a bar as it was closing. Maybe she was waiting for a ride home, or getting her bearings before she started walking. Then… two men came out of the bar. They were drunk enough that I could tell neither would remember a thing in the morning, and the taller of the two was laughing and practically hanging off of his friend. He saw the woman and they both fell quiet as they... looked at each other. I could tell what they were thinking. It doesn't take a genius to piece it together. I think that was when I stopped walking. I watched as the taller one went over to the woman, and I couldn't tell what he was saying, but… I had a pretty good guess. She didn't move, but he kept at it, he wouldn’t give it up. I think it lasted two minutes total. He kept getting more and more aggravated, and I was about to yell over that I was going to call the cops. He reached his hand out like he was going to grab her, but he just…  he just stopped. His eyes went wide for a moment, and even from that distance, I could see his terror. Looking back, I think he was probably dead before he hit the ground. His friend ran over to him, he was… screaming. Nothing coherent, he was much too drunk for that. Intoxicated on both alcohol and the fear. And even with everything that was going on, with all that noise? Not a single person came to make sure that he was okay. There was no way that no one heard. They just didn't care. You know, I never understood the phrase "Sent a chill down my spine". But… turns out it feels more literal than I imagined. I-- I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know what I could do. So I just stood there as his screams were cut off by the sound of him choking as he clutched his throat, desperate for air, eyes locked onto her and pleading for mercy. And once he finally went quiet, then the woman finally began to move. 

NARRATOR (Cont.)

She looked up at me. Slow, and I was certain that she'd known I'd been watching the whole time, and was anticipating my response. But her movements were jerky, like she had to force every joint to bend or twist. And I heard a voice. Her voice. I-- I don’t know how I know, but there's no doubt in my mind. Even though she was still across the street, it sounded like she was whispering, rasping in my ear with lungs that hadn’t been used in at least a decade. She said my name. And for some reason, hearing that made me certain that I was going to die. I ran, I locked myself in my house the moment I got home. Every step of the way, I knew she was behind me, I could hear her voice, I could feel her just… there. A couple times, I looked back. I never saw her walk, but she was always the same distance behind me. After I got home, it took me an hour before I finally started to calm down. I thought it was over. But just as I was regaining my composure, there it was again. My name, hardly an inch from my ear. I hated myself for it, but I forced myself to look out the window, and there she was. Just staring at me.

THERAPIST

Did you call the police?

NARRATOR

A-- And tell them what? That there was a person looking at my house? And that two guys had dropped dead just by talking to her? I’m sure they would take that well. Especially from me, the local convicted felon.

THERAPIST

So what did you do?

NARRATOR

I just… sat in my bedroom, in the dark, away from the windows. Like a child. [Laughs] I kept hearing her voice, so I knew that she was still out there even when the sun started to come up. Eventually, I ended up getting the nerve to look again. She had stood there, in the same spot, all night. Just watching. I’ll admit I kinda lost it at that point. I don’t know what I was planning on happening. But I was so freaked out, I-- I didn’t think. I went outside and grabbed a rock out of the garden, and I shouted at her to tell me what she wanted, to leave me alone. If I woke up any of the neighbors, they didn’t say anything. I threw the rock, and-- and I want you to know that I didn’t mean to hit her. I just wanted to scare her off or something. But it did hit her. Right in the chest, around the Xiphoid Process. And she… She crumpled. I mean that literally. It hit the hoodie, but it didn’t hit a person. The moment it made contact, all of her clothes fell to the ground, and I realized that there was nothing inside them.

THERAPIST

So… like a ghost?

NARRATOR

No. No, I don’t believe in ghosts. I think there’s something after death, something that gives people awareness, personality, life-- [He cuts off, takes a breath] ...But no, not ghosts. I don’t know what it was. But the clothes were gone when I looked out an hour later. [Beat.] So. Believe me?

THERAPIST

...I did read that there were two men found dead outside of a bar. One from a brain hemorrhage and the other asphyxiation. 

NARRATOR

But I suppose you think that’s a coincidence.

THERAPIST

...I think it’s... interesting. I think the figure you’re describing could potentially be a manifestation of your internalized guilt over the deaths of--

NARRATOR

Yeah, see? You think it was a hallucination.

THERAPIST

I’m just saying, you did have similar experiences while you were in the hospital.

NARRATOR

That was different! Believe me, I know how it sounds, I’m not an idiot. Would you say the same thing to someone who walked in here saying they saw a vision of Jesus?

THERAPIST

That’s--

NARRATOR

[Bitterly] Different?

THERAPIST

A religious belief. You’ve told me yourself you aren’t religious.

NARRATOR

...Okay, fine. But you can understand where I’m coming from.

THERAPIST

I suppose. I just have to entertain every possibility. Preferably the scientific ones. Henry is studying psychology, right?

NARRATOR [Softly]

...Please don’t.

THERAPIST

Right, sorry. I’m just saying, you have to know that if I just accepted every instance of ghosts or unexplainable events as true, I would be out of a job. I’m sure he’d tell you the same thing. [Beat.] How’s he doing?

NARRATOR [He scoffs] 

Seriously?

THERAPIST

You know what I mean. Has there been any progress?

NARRATOR

Not at all.

THERAPIST

You still visiting him?

NARRATOR

Every day.

THERAPIST

What do you do when you’re there?

NARRATOR

Talk, mostly. Sometimes I end up falling asleep. 

THERAPIST

You know, not many people would have that much dedication. He’s lucky to have a friend like you.

NARRATOR

...Yeah. Really lucky.

THERAPIST

You don’t agree?

NARRATOR

It’s… complicated. I don’t think…. [He trails off, steadying himself] Sorry. 

THERAPIST

No, it’s okay. You’ve opened up a lot today.

NARRATOR

The threat of prison will do that to a person.

THERAPIST

Maybe so. But we’ve been at this since March, and I still feel like I hardly know you. The therapists you went to before me all said the same thing; That you had trouble before, and that ever since you lost your brother, things have only gotten worse. I still think it would be good if you talked to your sister.

NARRATOR

Not gonna happen.

THERAPIST

You both have been through a lot, you’re the only family she has left.

NARRATOR

And yet, she’s made it very clear that she wants nothing to do with me. So forgive me if I’m not jumping at the idea.

THERAPIST

It couldn’t hurt to try.

NARRATOR

You don’t know Evelynn. It very well could. I can’t tell you the amount of times we wrestled as kids, and I never won a single time. [A small laugh] But no, in all seriousness, I don't think that's a good idea. I mean, she cleared out pretty much all of our father's things when I was… you know. 

THERAPIST

Recovering.

NARRATOR 

Recovering, sure. Whatever you wanna call it. I thought that at the very least, losing him would help close the gap between us. But then… I don't know why I thought that, she didn't even look at me at Billy's funeral, I-- [His voice falters, and his breath shakes] I-- I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I can't--

THERAPIST

No, it's okay. We're still working on it. That's more than you usually feel comfortable with. Do you think the recording helped?

NARRATOR

A little? I still couldn't talk about anything important, though. 

THERAPIST

How about this? We'll record sessions every so often, not every week. And for homework, you can record at home. About whatever you feel like. Be it what happened, or even just about your day. Maybe saying it out loud without anyone around will help you eventually talk about it here so we can work on it.

NARRATOR

...Do I have a choice?

THERAPIST [Smug, but kind]

Not really.

NARRATOR

And here I was thinking therapists were supposed to help people stop talking to themselves.

THERAPIST

I'll see you next week, okay?

NARRATOR

Right, yeah.

[The door opens]

THERAPIST

Oh, and before you go?

NARRATOR

Hmm?

THERAPIST

I'm really proud of you.

NARRATOR

...Right.

[The door shuts]

NEXT EPISODE➝

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: An Internal Affair - Chapter 1 (Ao3 link)

Fandom: The Flash Pairing: Leonard Snart/Barry Allen

Summary: Leonard Snart, the CCPD Captain of Internal Affairs, is known as Captain Cold for a very good reason: He hates corrupt cops with a merciless vengeance, and once you're on his list, you're in serious trouble.

His next target?

A CCPD lab tech named Barry Allen who's developed a suspicious habit of disappearing at random intervals.

A/N: This first chapter (slightly updated) was originally a prompt by @litrapod​ that I filled for Coldflash Week, but it's now a novel. I'm hoping to post updates twice a week - current plan is Tuesdays and Fridays, but we'll see what groove I settle into.

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

"Forgive me if I don't get up to say hello," Len drawls as Captain Singh walks into his office. He leans back in his office chair and gestures vaguely towards one of the seats, because if he doesn’t Singh will take one anyway.

Singh smiles tightly. He’s trying to be nice, but it’s hard for him. He takes a seat and makes an effort to make the smile more appropriate for the nice, friendly chat that they’re not actually going to have. "Of course not," he said, nodding at Len's injured side like he knows something.

He knows nothing.

Oh, it's common knowledge by now that Leonard Snart, one of the CCPD's finest undercover agents, recruited into the joint task force with the FBI, had been grounded at last when information about his identity had slipped out to such a degree that those who had worked with him in the criminal underworld had turned on him.

Everyone knows, also, that Leonard Snart took a bullet to the gut and another to the thigh and that he's still healing from them, but that he refused time off and insisted on coming back to work – even accepting a position that was largely a desk job to do so.

Everyone knows, last but certainly not least, that Leonard Snart is a hell of a lot smarter than he seems, because his humble acceptance of a desk job (to keep busy, he said, with a straight face and a bowed head) that was designed to keep him out of trouble was in fact just another stratagem, because it got Leonard Snart the job he's been angling to get for who knows how long.

Internal Affairs.

Head of Internal Affairs.

Leonard Snart's time spent underground – over a decade at least, and possibly two – gathering invaluable information on the criminal world had been rewarded with a promotion and an assignment to a seat that most cops reviled.

That wasn't an issue for Leonard Snart, as the department soon discovered, because he hated most cops just as much in return.

Abusive father that used to be a cop, the whispers said – they'd always known that, of course, but no one had put two and two together until Leonard Snart had been made a Captain and spent his first month on the job systematically destroying men's careers with an icy smile that never wavered.

Captain Cold, they called him – sneers and mockery at first, but as he took down one untouchable after another, men and women who were infamously corrupt but (it had been believed) unable to be removed, the term changed to one of fear and respect.

Mostly fear. Not a little bit of hatred, too, for the man who seemed to have nothing to hide and nothing to lose and whose entire existence, now, seemed wrapped around a vendetta aimed not at the criminals but at the CCPD who enabled them.

It's just as Len said: they know nothing.

Oh, it's all true, all of it, all the rumors, everything from his piece of shit of an ex-cop dad to his time undercover to his manipulation of the system to get the position and power he wanted. It's the details that matter most.

He hadn't just been shot when some asshole at the CCPD let slip who he was, leading eventually to someone telling the Families about him. He'd been kidnapped. Tortured.

Sentenced to a slow and painful death, all alone in the dark.

And he would have died, too, if Mick Rory hadn't come to save him.

Mick Rory, arsonist, pyromaniac, thief, muscle, thug.

Mick Rory, committed criminal.

Mick Rory, Leonard Snart's best and maybe only goddamn friend in the whole wide world, who Len had lied to from day one and kept lying to through thick and thin. Who Len had used. For his friendship, for his strength, for his credibility in the criminal community, and he’d given him back nothing but lies.

Despite all of that, Mick came for him.

Mick fought through the assholes guarding the door and he shot the assholes who were torturing Len and he got Len out.

Mick got Len away from the Families, carried him in his arms while he was bleeding and crying like a child. He got Len to the hospital, to safety, even though he knew Len was a cop now, a pig like all the others.

Then, when the police assigned to guard Len's room arrived and kicked him out, he went home.

And at home…

The Families fire-bombed his house that night, knowing that his pyromania would keep him from saving himself. They were right. He survived only due to a fluke, a part of the building falling fast enough to extinguish the fire faster than expected.

Mick Rory now lies in a hospital bed in a very high end burn clinic in Keystone City as the doctors try to salvage what they can, nearly two-thirds of his body burned.

Len never even had a chance to thank him.

Lewis Snart might've been the one that taught Len what a corrupt cop looked like, but it was what the cops did to Mick Rory that makes Len hate them.

"Can I help you?" Len says to Captain Singh, head of the midtown precinct, who seems to have lost the ability to speak since entering the room.

"I want to discuss the newest case you're working on," Singh finally says.

"Have you got intel for me?" Len asks, deliberately cruel. Cops hate a snitch as bad as any felon, and the suggestion that Singh's here to tell tales gets the flinch Len was looking for.

He doesn't actually have anything against Captain Singh personally – the guy's a good cop, believe it or not, with good detection skills and better management skills and unlike most of the lot of them, he's not completely in the Family pocket – but Singh's a believer in the blue line, cop solidarity über alles, and until he remembers that his loyalty should be to justice and truth before friendship, Len's not about to give him the benefit of the doubt.

That's why Singh's here, after all. He's not here to snitch.

He's here to ask Len to back off.

More fool he. Len never backs off.

(Len will admit, however, that he's a hypocrite: he's never had any problem valuing friends over laws – his first loyalties are to Lisa, tucked far away with her skates and the college he's paying for, and to Mick. But not at the expense of the corruption of the blue, the goddamn cops who are supposed to be protecting the helpless; that's not a crime against society, which Len could forgive, but a crime against his city, and Len will never forgive that.)

"No," Singh finally says. "Listen, I know this is a long shot –"

"Who?"

"I – what?"

"Who?" Len repeats. "Who do you want me to back off of?"

Singh looks suspicious; good for him. He's not an idiot: he knows a request to back off will only make Len more suspicious.

"I don't want you to back off, exactly," he says. "More – I don't want you wasting your time."

Len arches his eyebrows and waits.

Singh's an experienced cop, veteran of a thousand interrogations and interview rooms, and he knows how silence can be wielded as a weapon.

It's just that Len's better at it, that's all.

"Barry Allen," Singh says, giving up the name. "I don't know how he got on your list –"

"He's never here but his work always gets done," Len says dryly.

"He's efficient –"

"He's always arriving late, looking like he's been busy somewhere else."

"He's always had an issue with –"

"He disappears at odd times, say, around the same time something is going down."

"There's always something going down –"

"He knows more about crime scenes than he should upon first glance."

"So he's good at his job –"

"He talks about active cases with people outside the precinct."

"We all do to some degree –"

"Brand new set of friends."

"Not exactly a crime –"

"And all of that following nine months disappearance –"

"On medical leave!" Singh bursts out, a vein starting to pulse in his forehead. "He was in a coma!"

"Yes," Len drawls, stretching the word out. "He was, wasn't he? Then he got himself transferred out of the hospital into a private facility – a private facility run by Harrison Wells, aka the genius behind the Accelerator explosion that supposedly caused Allen's little 'accident' – and what do you know? Not only does that place not have proper records as far as I can tell, it appears that, both before and after the explosion, they have only ever had one patient."

Singh is gaping at him.

"Now, I don't know about you," Len says, tilting his head to the side in his most irritating, exaggerated thoughtful way. "But when you put all that together with the fact that a lot of these bad habits are newly developed following that so-called coma of his – except for the punctuality, of course, that's long-standing – you get a very interesting picture. One I intend to look at a bit more closely."

"Goddamnit, Cold, he was hit by lightning," Singh says through gritted teeth. "Some changes are to be expected. It's a miracle he even got that much of him back –"

"Yeah, about that," Len says and now his teeth are bared. "Funny how his job was still open after nine months."

Singh straightens up like he's just been shocked by lightning himself.

"Funny, too, how there weren't any concerns regarding his mental state after being hit by lightning," Len continues. "But you know what's the most funny of all?"

Singh is silent.

It's okay, Len wasn't asking that expecting an answer.

Len leans forward. "What I find the most funny, Captain Singh," he says, as conversationally as he can, "is that he says that he was in a coma for nine months, right? Nine months. It's been a little over nine months since the explosion. Nine months, and he's back to work in a week? No bedsores, no muscle atrophy, no deterioration, no physical therapy, no occupational therapy – oh, no, our Mr. Allen apparently leaped out of his hospital bed and went for a goddamn run around Central City, fresh as a daisy. And, in the process, either during the coma or during that run –"

Len flips open the folder on his desk, revealing two photographs. One is Allen before his mysterious nine-month absence; one is after. He's shirtless in both, because Len's contacts sometimes like to snag shirtless pics for him ever since they figured out he was pansexual – something that usually pisses him off, except he wouldn't have figured out the weirdest part of this whole Allen thing if they hadn't so he supposes he has to forgive them.

"– the man picks up a set of abs," Len concludes, his voice flat. "Now, Singh, I know you've given up ogling other people in your marriage vows, but tell me, in view of your past experience in this field, does one generally get that sort of body development lying in a hospital bed?!"

That last bit was said with a full on snarl.

Okay, so Len's a bit touchy on the whole hospital subject.

Singh's shoulders slump down, an acknowledgment that he doesn't have the answers Len's looking for and that there is no way that Len's dropping this investigation – either into Allen, or, if that pans out, into Singh for enabling him.

And because Len's investigations are typically confidential among the Captain rank at this early stage, if Allen hears so much as a whisper on the subject before Len's ready, Len will know exactly who to blame.

Len smiles at him. The smile has teeth.

"Good talk, Singh," he says encouragingly. "Have a nice day, why don't you?"

Singh's lips are pressed together until they're very nearly bloodless with rage, but he's smart enough not to say anything. He knows how dangerous Len is.

He walks out with his shoulders squared, much like someone who wants to punch someone and is very nearly there, but barely refraining.

Len dials a number on his desk before grabbing his crutch and limping heavily over to the door that Singh rather rudely left open, particularly given that he knows that Len prefers a closed door and has difficulty walking to close it.

"Chum in the water, sir?" his assistant asks dryly. Technically, Len ought to have a whole team, and he does, but he's spread the best of them out widely among the precincts of the sprawling Central City. This isn't really 'home base' for him, just an office he can use for the time being – and one at which he’s newly arrived, no less, after he was quietly encouraged to move until the looks of his fellow policemen became a touch less murderous – but that's fine. As long as he can do his job, he's fine. And he can do his job here with just him and his assistant.

(Why did he never consider investing in a personal assistant when he was a criminal? They're so useful. He would've saved himself so much angst. His current assistant, Danvers, is the best.)

"Not him," Len tells Danvers with a faint grin. "That was just a friendly chat. Come in and take some dictation, will you?"

"You make that sound so awful," she observes. "I should sue for sexual harassment."

"If you're getting sexually harassed, then I'm in a hostile work environment."

"Boss," Danvers says, suppressing a grin. "You are a hostile work environment."

"Kara Danvers," Len groans. "Just get your ass in here already."

She laughs and gets her ass in there with her speed-typing box – she used to be a court reporter before Len snagged her, and she's amazing – just in time for the open phone line Len dialed to start picking up things on the other side.

The other side being the desk immediately adjacent to one Detective Joe West's, who has the dubious honor of being Singh's confidant, Allen's mentor (possibly father?), and one of the poor souls on Len's list, given the remarkable speed by which the open investigation of his recent officer-involved shooting (West being the officer) got resolved.

Someone should really do something about the security in this place. Len plans on giving them a list before he leaves - but only after he's done exploiting it.

"- don't let Cold get to you, chief," West is saying. "He's got nothing on you."

"That isn't the issue," Singh replies with a sigh. "I don't want him here at all. Investigating my people -"

"When he could be doing something useful with his time," West agrees. "Goddamn parasite."

"Joe," Singh says, mildly censorious. "He's your superior officer."

West snorts. "By cutting in line - yeah, yeah, I'll back off. He did amazing work with the Families, not just here, but everywhere, I'll give him that much. But I don't have to appreciate the fact that the guy's working out his childhood trauma on us."

"Joe!" Singh exclaims. "That's uncalled for."

"Oh, come off it," West says with a laugh. "We all know the story - dad was a bad cop and a mean drunk that liked to knock his kids around. And now the - I mean, our very respectable visiting Captain Cold, he's got a vendetta against the boys in blue instead of the guys that really need to be taken off the streets."

"If a cop's done something wrong, they need to be taken off the streets too, Joe," Singh says. "That's what Internal Affairs does. You can't hold it against Cold - I mean, Snart - that he's good at his job."

"Even you call him Cold," West points out. "And that's saying something."

"No, Joe, it isn't," Singh replies, sighing. He sounds tired. If he was tired, he shouldn't have tried to go up against Len. "I'm pretty sure I just called him it to his face, and that's still not saying anything. The man really is good at his job, and he's utterly fearless. We need someone like him rooting out corruption, we really do. But sometimes he goes barking up the wrong damn tree -"

"Someone in our precinct?" West asks, his tone lighting up with interest.

"That's confidential," Singh snaps, clearly remembering himself. "Damnit, Joe, he'll have my job if you go around blabbing."

"My lips are sealed," West promises, but though he tries to raise the subject of Len a few more times, Singh is having none of it and firmly steers the conversation onto their current investigation.

After listening for a little longer, Len nods to himself and hangs up the line.

"...did he really call you Captain Cold to your face?" Danvers asks, her lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

"Cold, anyway," Len says, allowing himself to smirk as she starts giggling. "I think I made him angry."

"Boss," she says, lifting her glasses and wiping the tears of laughter out of her eyes. "You make everyone angry. It's practically your hobby."

Len grins. She’s not wrong.

But the grin slowly fades as he thinks about the task he’s set for himself.

He’s engineered a few meetings between himself and Allen – usually he sets up the first meet at one of the local Jitters, where he can ‘accidentally’ stumble with his (annoyingly still-necessary) crutch to get people’s attention, and Allen’s no different.

Well, he was a bit oblivious but it worked eventually. Len took the precaution of telling the barista that he was trying to get Allen’s attention, which definitely helped cover his ass stumbling so many times – Kendra thought he was hilarious and adorable and definitely hinted strongly to Allen to pay attention.

Since then, they’ve been sitting together whenever their coffee runs ‘coincidentally’ match up.

That’s probably how Singh realized that Len was onto Allen’s case, putting the seating and Len’s high-level sealed reports together.

The problem, though, is that Allen is…frustrating.

“Thinking about your newest boytoy again?” Danvers asks.

She only looks innocent.

“Target,” Len corrects. “Not boytoy.”

“You’re basically a cat, boss,” she says. “You play with your food and your toys and your targets all the same way.”

“Basically a cat,” Len says, rolling his eyes. “This is what I get, is it? I employ you, you know.”

It’d taken literally months to break Danvers of her annoying habit of being excessively deferential, so she knows he doesn’t mean it.

Her smirk makes that very clear.

“You didn’t answer the question,” she points out.

“Because you phrased it in a stupid way,” Len grumbles. “But yeah, I was thinking about Allen.”

“What’s the problem, then?”

“Well, to start off, he’s extremely shady,” Len says. “He’s got to have some secret way in and out of Jitters, because I have literally blinked and he’s slipped out somehow. He’s always whispering about stuff with those new scientist friends of his from STAR Labs, and they’re almost always talking about the latest disaster in town, and that’s usually followed immediately by Allen disappearing for a bit.”

“That doesn’t seem like a problem,” Danvers says. “That sounds like a good lead.”

Len makes a face.

“No?”

“He’s nice,” Len complains. “I see why everyone here likes him; he’s friendly and acts all well-meaning and he helped an old lady cross the road last week –”

“Oh, I see,” Danvers says, grinning. “You think he’s hot.”

“Of course he’s hot,” Len says. “Lots of people are hot; I’m pansexual. That doesn’t usually distract me from doing my job. Besides, he’s half my age.”

“You exaggerate,” she says. “But putting that aside, you are doing your job, because your job is figuring out if someone is up to something. If even you’re getting good vibes off Allen, then maybe, just maybe, this one time, a cigar is actually just a cigar.”

Len blinks at her.

“Maybe he’s clean,” she clarifies.

Len snorts. “He disappears for nine months, claims he was in a coma, and comes back in the best shape of his life,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “At the minimum that’s going to involve some sort of medical insurance fraud, or possibly unemployment fraud. Plus, by all accounts the guy seems to have a real knack for avoiding confrontation by being a compulsive liar.”

“But?”

“His lab work is good,” Len admits. “I haven’t seen any patterns of him altering evidence in favor of any given party, and the lab boys over at the Feds say the reports are basically done right, though they can’t quite get the centrifuge data to match up.”

“A real enigma, then,” Danvers says. “Your favorite.”

“Danvers.”

“Don’t you Danvers me,” she says, smirking at him. “You should go ask him out on a date.”

“I can’t date a target.”

“Go ask him out for a totally platonic dinner, then,” she says. “Do it when you know something’s about to go down – and don’t think I don’t know that just because you’ve been burned doesn’t mean your connections in the underworld are totally gone. That way you can eliminate each possible affiliation.”

“First off, that’s entrapment,” Len says. “Second, there are so many Families alone that we’d have to go on a date every day for a year for that to work. Third, he'd twig onto what I’m doing and deliberately not go to something he’s affiliated with to throw me off the scent. And fourth, even if it wasn’t a bad idea, it’s not working. There’s no pattern to any of his disappearances!”

Danvers is sniggering.

Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted how often he’s been meeting up with Allen.

He glares at her balefully.

“Give me your notes on his movements,” she orders, as if she was the boss. “I’ll get them cross-referenced with all the different types of city events I can find so you can do your pattern-spotting on the outside instead of the inside; if he’s going to some sort of dumb concert series or something, you wouldn’t want to waste your time. In the meantime, you have a date.”

“I’m not seeing Allen again until tomorrow,” Len objects automatically.

Danvers smirks at him like he’s admitted something. “Of course not,” she says. “But it’s an MR day.”

Len nods, glad that she reminded him. How hard it is to remember what day is which is one of the downsides of deliberately randomizing his visits to the clinic in Keystone where Mick is so that no one can track him when he goes there. He’d prefer to go on a regular schedule – Len’s always liked timing things – but it’s his duty to keep Mick safe. Or at least, it’s the very least he can do, after all Mick’s done for him.

If Len was a good man, he wouldn’t go at all. He’d leave Mick alone. He wouldn’t burden him with Len’s baggage and Len’s job and Len’s everything, not to mention the fact that Len’s enemies are even more numerous now than they were when he and Mick were partners.

The Families want Len’s head on a plate. Many of his old contacts in the underworld know he’s a cop now and hate him for it. The corrupt cops that fear him are gunning for him. Even the clean cops hate him for violating their precious boys-in-blue code.

Len would be better off being friends with no one at all, and if he was a good man, he would refrain.

But he’s not a good man.

“I’ll go catch a ride,” he says. “Is my pick-up here?”

Danvers wrinkles her nose. “Boss –”

“Oh, good, then Charlie is here.”

“I hate that guy,” she whines. “I don’t care if he’s good at losing people, he’s going to kidnap you and eat you one of these days.”

“You exaggerate,” Len says, shaking his head. “I’ve known Charlie for years –”

“He has priors for cannibalism and attempted cannibalism,” Danvers hisses. “Literal cannibalism.”

“Technically,” Len drawls, “he only has priors for defacing a corpse. Cannibalism isn’t a legal crime, and no one proved he was involved with any killing –”

“If you don’t ring me the second you get to the clinic, I’m going to hunt you down,” Danvers threatens. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Who exactly is the boss here?”

“You, sir,” she says. “Now go and do what I told you to do.”

Len rolls his eyes, but gets up, wincing. His leg and side are really pulling on him today. He uses Mick’s clinic to meet his physical and occupational therapist anyway, which is a good cover for going to visit Mick, but going to PT/OT with an already sore leg is going to suck.

“And when you’re done with that, we can talk about you dating a target,” Danvers adds just as he gets to the door. “It’s actually not against the rules until there’s an official inquiry open.”

“No, Danvers.”

“I’ll book you a table for two at a nice restaurant for Friday,” she says. “It’ll have a pre-paid deposit and you’ll have no choice but to ask him to go or you’ll waste the money.”

“A, you’re abusing your access to my credit card,” Len says. “B, I could always go with someone else, did you think of that?”

“Boss,” Danvers says pityingly. “Mick can’t go, your sister’s out of town, I’m busy that night, and you have no other friends.”

…damnit.

“Have fun!”

“Mick wouldn’t bitch me out like this,” Len grumbles.

“I’ve been keeping him up to date on your little investigation via secure-line VPN groupchat,” Danvers says cheerfully. “You wanna bet?”

Len flips her off and limps off towards the waiting car.

Mick would totally mock him over this whole Allen thing.

[fuckyeahhistory]

OK I know what you’re thinking. Why is the 1533 Buggery Act such a big deal! After all, it’s a piece of Tudor law:

A) that sounds dry AF

B) has nothing to do with me!

Well, if you care about LGBTQ+ rights (or let’s be blunt, basic human rights) than this is a piece of Tudor law that you have to know about!

The 1533 Buggery Act wove a tangled web that stretches throughout history. Beyond those who were caught up in its immediate wake, It’s threads lead us to Oscar Wilde’s imprisonment, Alan Turing’s conviction and the abysmal pit where fundamental rights should be, that the LGBTQ+ community and their allies are still fighting against.

So if that still sounds dry AF, then strap in Donald, because you’re about to get your mind blown.

Seriously we’re getting into world view changing stuff!

The Buggery Act was the brainchild of Henry VIII who had a fun habit of lumbering the UK with laws that came out of him wanting to make a point during a hissy fit…yet inexplicably stuck around for hundreds of years at a major human cost (e.g that time he made it legal to execute someone with severe mental health issues) The 1533 Buggery Act was no exception!

But lets take it back to pre-Henry for a second. Prior to 1533 there were no set laws to persecute homosexuality in England. That’s not to say it wasn’t. In the 13th century two legal codes called for men caught having same sex relationships to be buried alive or burnt, which is horrific!

However, these were suggestions, not actual laws and there is no evidence that these punishments were ever carried out. For the most part, the then frowned upon act was dealt with in the ecclesiastic courts (so basically it was left with god and his earthly servants to deal with either after death or in the realm of the church)

As such, the sudden decision to make homosexuality criminal was a big deal. In fact it was such a big deal that this sharp turn to criminalisation actually had to be addressed in the original statues outlining the 1533 act. Which says that the law was in part created to make homosexuality clearly punishable, saying:

“For as moche as there is not yet sufficient & condigne punishment appointed & limitted by the due course of the lawes of this realme for the detestable & abominable vice of buggeri committed with mankind or beest.”

It goes on to explain the possible punishments for those caught committing ‘buggery’:

“And that the offenders being herof convict by verdicte, confession, or outlaurie, shall suffer suche peynes of dethe, and losses, and penalties of their goodes, cattals, dettes, londes, tenements, and heredytamentes, as felons benne accustomed to do accordynge to the order of the common lawes of this realme. And that no person offendynge in any suche offence, shalbe admitted to his clergye”

Obviously the clear biggy here is ‘pain of death’, but right at the bottom of this portion of transcript there’s the sentence:

‘And that no person offending in such offence shall be admitted to his clergy’ – that right there is the crux of this whole piece of legislation.

Because why create The Buggery Act and criminalise same sex relationships at this particular moment in time?

To persecute the Catholic Church of course!

If you’re thinking , ‘that makes little to no sense’, gold star! It doesn’t… well at least until you break down what was going down in 1533.

You see, until the 1530’s England had been part of the Catholic Church. But, Henry VIII was desperate to break away from the church as it wouldn’t grant him a divorce so he could marry his side chick, Anne Boleyn. So Henry decided to create a new church for England, one that he’d be the head of (and wouldn’t you know it, the head of this new church just happened to be A-ok with divorce).

Sadly creating your own church doesn’t magically erase your countries already existing, centuries old religion overnight. So Henry worked with his right hand man, Thomas Cromwell, to loosen the tight hold Catholicism had on England and for a double win, also siphon it’s money to Henry.

The 1533 Buggery Act was just part of this plan. It was solely designed to take away a little bit of the power away from The Catholic Church, not to actually persecute homosexuality.

And yet this law was about to take its first victim.

By 1540 the Buggery Act had done its job. The Catholic Churches hold on England had been loosened, Henry had married Anne Boleyn (and then had her executed), married again (this time she’d died in childbirth) and was onto marriage number four. Thomas Cromwell had played Cupid for these nuptials, hooking Henry up with his new wife, Anne of Cleves. Sadly Henry wasn’t a fan of his new bride and this was such a big no no that it led to Thomas Cromwell’s death.

But as is probably clear by now, Henry was a petty bitch, and so he made sure that when Thomas went down, he wasn’t going alone.

On the 29 June 1540 Thomas Cromwell was beheaded for treason and his mate, Walter Hungerford, became the first person to be executed under The Buggery Act (among other allegations).

A bloody punishment, with the Buggery Act added as an extra dollop of humiliation for Hungerford and as an additional middle finger to Cromwell who’d helped create the act.*

*side note: before we start feeling really sorry for Walter Hungerford, he was an abusive man who imprisoned his wife to the extent she had to drink her own urine to survive. So you know. Maybe hold the sympathy cards.

Henry VIII

Thomas Cromwell

Ok, that was A LOT to take in. So let’s pause and take a quick moment to  look at where we are:

We have a law that was created to criminalise homosexuality BUT was actually used to screw over the Catholic Church

We have a first victim of the law…BUT he was most likely executed not because of the law itself but as an F U to his mate who created the law.

So, we can all agree that thus far, The Buggery Act is a very bloody farce. But that does that mean it’s done?

OF COURSE NOT!

Though the law was repealed by Henry VIII’s daughter, Queen Mary I in 1553 (who wanted power over this to go back to the Catholic Church and it’s ecclesiastic courts), once she died, her successor and sister, Queen Elizabeth I made the Buggery Act law once more.

And from there it started to truly transform into a law for persecution.

Using a Latrice Royale gif to cut the tension, but just a warning: It’s about to get really dark for a bit.

For much of the 15th and 16th centuries arrests and executions under the Buggery Act were few and far between. However, that didn’t happen stop this horrifying law from spreading.

One of the huge issues of The Buggery Act being a law, was that Britons leaving the country took it with them. Take for example those plucky puritans who set sail for the brave new world of America – alongside terrible hats and a smattering of racism, they made sure to also pack legal persecution!

And so the legal execution of people for homosexuality began in a new country. In 1624, Virginia hung Richard Cornish, a ships captain, for ‘forcible sodomy’ of his ships 29 year old cabin boy.

Two years later, Massachusetts hung William Plain on allegations of sodomy that took place in England (so before he even moved to America!).

That same year, the countries New Netherlands colony successfully managed to achieve the discrimination trifecta when they used the Buggery Act to strangle and ‘burn to ashes’, Jan Creoli, a poor black gay man.

If you thought things were bad, they are about to get even worse.

Back in Britain, a more vocal queer community was starting to appear, thanks to the underground popularity of Molly Houses (places where queer men could be free to openly show their sexuality, kind of the great great great grandfather of the small town gay bar). But this emerging light in the dark attracted the worst kind of people and they dedicated themselves to eradicating what they saw as the gay scourge.

One such group was the catchily named, The Society For The Reformation of Manners. Determined to rid London of its LGBT subculture, they worked undercover to infiltrate Molly Houses, gather evidence against its users and then together with the police, raid them.

One such raid was that of Mother Claps house in 1726. Dozens of men were rounded up and arrested, with several fined and pilloried. But that’s not the worst of it. 

The Society For The Reformation of Manners successfully helped to leverage the Buggery Act to hang three of the arrested men for the crime of having sex, or as one witness spat out during the trial:

‘Making love to one another as they call’d it’

Example of an execution, like that of the Mother Clap House victims. from the era

During the 1800’s the executions continued. Trials for men accused under The Buggery Act sprung up across England. Some of those found guilty had the relative luck (though the chance of survival still wasn’t great) at instead being transported to Australia, but others weren’t so lucky.

The last men executed under The Buggery Act were James Pratt and John Smith, in 1835.

A husband and father, James Pratt, met with John Smith in August 1935, at an ale house in London for a drink. The pair then got chatting with an older man, William Bonill and went back to his rooms.

William Bonill soon left to get another drink at the pub, leaving James and John alone. It was after this that Bonill’s landlord reported finding the pair having sex.

Neither James Pratt or John Smith stood a chance in court. If you are in any doubt on that front, just read the opening transcript from John Smith’s prosecutor.

‘feloniously, wickedly, diabolically, and against the order of nature, had a venereal affair with one James Pratt, and did then and there, feloniously, wickedly, diabolically, and agains the order of nature, carnally know the said James Pratt, and with him the said James Pratt did then and there feloniously, wickedly, diabolically, and against the order of nature, commit and perpetrate the detestale, horrid, and abominable crime (among Christians not to be named) called buggery, to the great displeasure of Almighty God, to the great scandal of all human kind’

Charles Dickens actually attended Newgate jail, when the men were awaiting sentencing and recalled:

‘Their doom was sealed; no plea could be urged in extenuation of their crime, and they well knew that for them there was no hope in this world.’

He was, of course, right. Of seventeen others sentenced to death at the same time as John and James (for crimes including attempted murder) all had their sentences commuted to transportation to Australia. All expect John Smith and James Pratt.

A huge crowd gathered outside Newgate Jail to watch their deaths.

Watching his (possible) partner, John Smith, being blindfolded and his noose put on, caused James Pratt an understandable level of anguish. He reportedly went physically weak, needing help just to stand and calling out:

‘Oh God, this is horrible. This is indeed horrible.’ 

Though we don’t have clean cut evidence that the two were in a relationship, it’s hard to read this as anything other than love and the devastation of James knowing what his partner was about to go through.

Which I think summarises the pointlessness and brutality the Buggery Act had on all those who feel under its wake. Of it’s last two victims; two men who just wanted a private moment to be together and died because of that.

Newspaper from the hanging of James Pratt and John Smith

The Buggery Act remained in place in one form or another until 1861 when the Offences Against The Person Act replaced it.

The new law abolished the death sentence for ‘buggery’, instead punishing those convicted with a prison sentence of up to life. In 1967 the laws around homosexuality as an illegal act were dropped.

All of this, because in 1533 a pissed of King set up a law that he hoped would bring down a religion – the persecution of thousands if not millions, was just secondary. 

If you want to read up more on this and other areas of LGBT+ history (and please do!) some great sources are below:

Rictor Norton, for a treasure trove of articles and essays on the history of LGBTQ+ history in England dating back to the medieval era. 

The Peter Tatchall Foundation, a human rights charity with an amazing section of history of laws that sought to persecute 

The British Library, where you can look at so many of the original documents I mention in this, digitally wherever you are in the world!

Why you have to know about the 1533 Buggery Act OK I know what you’re thinking. Why is the 1533 Buggery Act such a big deal! After all, it’s a piece of Tudor law:

[fuckyeahanarchistposters]

The J20 Case: What You Need to Know

On January 20, 2017 (J20), President Donald Trump was inaugurated with all of the typical fanfare and political opposition that we have come to expect on Inauguration Day. In a stark contrast to previous years and even other contemporary protests, the Trump administration has chosen to aggressively pursue and prosecute over 200 people for these protests,, signaling a new era of political repression.

MASS ARRESTS

Designated a National Special Security Event, as presidential inaugurations have been since the turn of the century, the state response to political protest that day was under the command of the Metropolitan Police Department (MPD) and overseen by the FBI and US Secret Service. It was estimated that as much as $200 million was spent on security, including the purchase of massive amounts of weaponry and ammunition.

That morning, among many other political actions opposing the new adminstration taking place in DC, hundreds of protesters gathered in Logan Circle for an anti-capitalist and anti-fascist march. Within a half hour, a few windows of corporate storefronts were broken and, instead of making individualized arrests, police moved in to “kettle” – indiscriminately surround and detain – anyone in the streets at the time.

Those trapped in the MPD kettle included protesters, journalists, medics, and bystanders. MPD arrested 234 people, charging them all with felony riot. A later, superseding indictment from the US Attorney’s Office charged the more than 200 defendants with eight felonies each, including rioting, incitement to riot, conspiracy to riot, four counts of destruction of property, and assault on a police officer. These charges are levied against all of the defendants, even though, as Natasha Lennard wrote in an April 2017 article for Esquire, “[N]o one—neither the police nor the government—suggests that that most or even many of the arrestees directly engaged in property destruction or violence.”

If convicted, each J20 defendant faces more than 70 years in federal prison. Notably, neo-Nazi James Alex Fields Jr. who killed antifa activist Heather Heyer in August in Charlottesville is facing less prison time than each J20 defendant.

At no time in the past 20 years have so many people been charged with this many felonies. This represents a troubling departure from historic prosecutions where property damage or “black bloc” activity is involved. The state is using extremely harsh legal measures to signal a new level of intolerance to protest and may represent a new norm for political repression in the US.

POLICE MISCONDUCT

In addition to these unusual and serious felony charges, the J20 event stands out as an egregious example of police misconduct. For example, when the police want to break up a political protest, law enforcement is typically required to make a “dispersal order” which allows folks to leave the area before being arrested. However, on J20, before any dispersal order was given, dozens of people were subjected to a violent attack when police indiscriminately deployed chemical and projectile weapons, including Stinger Grenades, which blast rubber pellets and chemical agents over a 50-foot radius. After the mass detention of the group, many were made to wait for hours without food, water, or toilets before being transported to the local jail.

The police misconduct on J20 was egregious enough that the Mayor’s Office of Police Complaints (OPC) issued a report that criticized the MPD for violating its own Standard Operating Procedures for Handling First Amendment Assemblies as well as misuse of chemical agents, failure to provide proper dispersal orders, and making questionable arrests. As a follow-up to this report, the OPC began an independent investigation in October into MPD misconduct on Inauguration Day. More than 10 years ago DC Police Chief Peter Newsham and the MPD were sued for conducting an unconstitutional mass arrest of political activists.

In March, after refusing to turn over communication and documentation related to the police response on J20, Newsham and the MPD were sued by the Partnership for Civil Justice Fund, claiming that police “are standing in willful disobedience of their lawful obligations to disclose information” even where such information disclosures is mandated by law.

Seeking to push back against widespread police misconduct, the DC chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union filed a lawsuit in June against the District of Columbia, the MPD and Newsham himself, accusing the police of committing several human rights violations including the use of sexual assault against arrested protestors as a punitive measure.

INVASIVE INVESTIGATION TACTICS

The J20 cases are unprecedented not only for the number of people charged with felonies and for the quantity of felony charges levied against each defendant, but also for the extremely invasive investigation tactics of the prosecution.

In August, the Department of Justice issued a warrant seeking private information on as many as 1.3 million visitors to DisruptJ20.org, the website used as a clearinghouse of information in advance of the Inauguration Day protests. Judge Robert Morin ruled that the web-hosting company DreamHost did not have to comply with the government’s request for IP addresses and other private data, but the judge ruled that DreamHost must turn over website communications to prosecutors in an effort to search for incriminating evidence against organizers of the protests.

CURRENT STATUS OF THE DEFENDANTS

Most of the J20 defendants have chosen to work together collectively on their legal defense and have agreed to ‘points of unity’ which include not cooperating with the state or testifying against any of their co-defendants. Approximately twenty defendants have taken non-cooperating, no-jail plea bargains, but many have refused and the vast majority has decided to take their cases to trial.

One defendant—Dane Powell—who took a plea in April for rioting and assault on a police officer was sentenced in July to 36 months in prison but was required to serve only four months. Powell has remained resolute while incarcerated and is clear about his politics and the reasons why he was out on the streets that day.

Defendants and their supporters established the website DefendJ20Resistance.org to build public support and have also mounted political campaigns to drop the chargesand garner support for an independent police investigation.

In September, Judge Lynn Leibovitz, a former federal prosecutor, denied a motion to dismiss the charges against J20 defendants, paving the way for the first trials on November 15 and December 11, 2017, with additional trials to be held through the fall of 2018.

Also in September, the government dropped its demand that Facebook not tell its users about search warrants it issued for the accounts of three political organizers allegedly involved in planning for #DisruptJ20. The three organizers are fighting the warrants in court.

Update: On November 1, Judge Leibovitz issued an order reducing the ‘riot’ and ‘conspiracy to riot’ charges from felonies to misdemeanors. Each defendant is still charged with at least six felonies and two misdemeanors and faces as much as 60 years in prison.

MORE INFORMATION

The defendants’ support website: http://defendj20resistance.org/

Recent and notable media:

The Prosecution of Inauguration-Day Protesters Is a Threat to Dissent, Oct 20, 2017, The Nation https://www.thenation.com/article/the-prosecution-of-inauguration-day-protesters-is-a-threat-to-dissent/

How the Government Is Turning Protesters Into Felons, April 12, 2017, Esquire http://www.esquire.com/news-politics/a54391/how-the-government-is-turning-protesters-into-felons/

Know Your Rights: We limit our resistance to fascism by relying on liberal conceptions of human rights, June 18, 2017, The New Inquiry https://thenewinquiry.com/know-your-rights/

The Whimper of Democracy, May 31, 2017, The Baffler https://thebaffler.com/the-poverty-of-theory/whimper-of-democracy-alvarez

Document Shows D.C. Police Threw More Than 70 Grenades at Inauguration Protesters, undated, The Real News http://therealnews.com/t2/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=31&Itemid=74&jumival=20169

[isadomna]

Queen Katherine set out from Greenwich, with her husband and six hundred archers dressed in long, white, wide-sleeved gabardine coats and caps, on 15 June 1513. They travelled in small stages south towards Dover. There in the castle overlooking the sea, Katherine was formally appointed Queen Governor of the Realm. She was aged about 28 and was, by then, vastly experienced in her own right as a diplomat, princess and queen. Her upbringing in Spain at the side of her mother, Queen Isabella of Castile, had coloured her childhood with high politics and war.

As soon as her husband set sail for the English port of Calais, from where he was finally to launch his campaign against the French, she was to rule in his place or, rather, in his name. She could raise armies, appoint sheriffs, approve most church appointments and spend money exactly as she wished. Henry declared that he was leaving the English people in the care of a woman whose ‘honour, excellence, prudence, forethought and faithfulness’ could not be doubted. They, in turn, were instructed to obey her every command. A small council was left behind to advise her. With power now in her hands, it was time to say goodbye. Katherine and her ladies ‘made such sorrow for the departing of their lords and husbands, that it was great dolor [pain] to behold’. Most of the army was already across the other side of the Channel.

Governing England in Henry’s absence now occupied her days. There were felons to be pardoned, prebends, canons and bailiffs to be appointed, lands and annuities to be handed out, the estates of the recently deceased countess of Somerset to be dealt with and a long-running administrative spat between the archbishop of Canterbury and the bishop of Winchester to be resolved. She also, from a distance, dealt with the affairs of Calais, in Henry’s rearguard. Letters, patents, grants and writs now carried ‘teste Katerina Anglie Regina’ (‘witnessed by Catherine, Queen of England’) rather than the ‘Teste me ipso’ (‘I have witnessed this’) of Henry. She signed them ‘Katherine [or Katherina] the Qwene’. 

Katherine had pressed for war, but she was still worried that her glory-seeking husband would behave recklessly, placing himself in unnecessary danger. Shortly after he had sailed she wrote to his almoner, Thomas Wolsey, anxiously begging for weekly letters to reassure her that her hot-headed husband was safe. She also wrote to her former sister-in-law Margaret of Austria, who was now regent of the Netherlands, begging her to send a doctor to be at hand for her husband. Katherine felt safer once Margaret’s father, the Emperor Maximilian – basically serving as a paid mercenary but still a far more experienced fighter than Henry – appeared at the scene of battle. Her hope now, she told Wolsey, was that ‘with his good counsel, his grace [Henry] shall not adventure himself so much as I was afraid of before’.

In August and September, Queen Katherine was faced with an invasion from the Scots, led by her brother-in-law James IV, who was married to Henry’s sister Margaret Tudor. James had threatened war with England if Henry went to war with France. Henry even recruited his sister to try to persuade her husband not to invade England while he was away in France. At the same time, Anne of Brittany, Queen of France was writing James, asking him to be her knight in shining armor and attack England. In the end, against the advice of his councilors, James decided to attack England. In August of 1513, James IV’s herald presented King Henry VIII with a written declaration of war. The king of Scotland was actually excommunicated by the Pope for breaking the Treaty of Perpetual Peace with England.

Katherine started preparing in July, as soon as news reached her that James IV of Scotland was mustering a large army. Early in August she demanded to know why the mayor and sheriffs of Gloucester had not responded to her letters asking how many men and horses they could supply. ‘News from the Borders show that the king of Scots means war,’ she said. There was no time for dallying. She ordered them to answer within fifteen days. In mid-August Katherine wrote light-heartedly to Wolsey asking him to tell Henry that ‘all his subjects be very glad, I thank God, to be busy with the Scots, for they take it for [a] pastime’. Katherine was not intimidated. She relished the challenge coming her way and had thrown herself fully into organising England’s defence. ‘My heart is very good to it,’ she said excitedly in a letter to Wolsey signed nine days before James led his army of up to thirty thousand men across the River Tweed. One of his first actions was to attack and take Norham Castle, belonging to the bishop of Durham. James had to be stopped before he marched farther south. 

Surrey and his sons, Edmund and Thomas Howard, were in position by the beginning of September; their army gathered near Newcastle ready to march toward the enemy. Sir Thomas Lovell had another army at Nottingham; Katherine and her council had gathered a third in the south just in case the worst happened and James somehow got through the other two. The Queen was well prepared. She had been busy and not just, as she coyly told Wolsey, ‘making standards, banners and badges’. Katherine sent ten thousand pounds, a considerable sum of money, north to be guarded (and, presumably, used for war expenses) by the Abbot of St Mary, near York. She also sent artillery, gunners and a fleet of eight ships, including the Mary Rose, which carried additional troops, towards the Scottish border. Grain, pipes of beer, rope, cables and suits of light armour were also shipped north. For her first line of defence she would rely on the earl of Surrey and the troops he was raising in the northern counties, together with those that had arrived by sea. James had a large army, however, backed by some recently delivered and formidable modern French artillery. 

Documents were drawn up, meanwhile, to declare Scotsmen living in England to be ‘enemies’; but that all Scotsmen that have married English women and have children may remain. All others would have their goods seized and their persons banished under penalty of their lives. All Frenchmen to have their goods forfeited and be committed to prison if they dwell near the sea coast; or else, if they dwell inland, to find sureties. Henry VIII  – flush from his minor triumphs in France – decided to send Katherine one of his more illustrious captives, the duke of Longueville. Katherine was about to set off northwards towards the Scottish threat herself. The duke and six others with him would just have to stay in the Tower of London for a few weeks.

As the Scottish threat grew, in a letter dated 2 September to Thomas Wolsey in France, Katherine revealed that she was ready to head northwards. These short notes show that Katherine personally led what was left of the king’s artillery towards the North. In early September Katherine wrote to the Great Wardrobe (the central store of royal clothing and equipment behind Baynard’s Castle in London) demanding delivery of banners, standards and pennants for those who would march north with her. A herald and a pursuivant, dressed up in the coats of arms of England, were also to travel with her. It would be the herald’s job to deliver any formal battle challenges or other messages she might care to send the Scottish king. She took 1500 suits of armour, called Almain Rivets, on her journey – all part of her direct responsibility for organising England’s deep defence. Finally, so she might display a suitable amount of magnificence, six trumpeters with their trumpet banners were to accompany her. 

Katherine began to move north with a body of troops variously described as ‘a great power’ or a ‘numerous force’. At this time she also ordered up a golden ‘headpiece with crown’, and had both a light sallet helmet and a rounded, broad-brimmed shapewe helmet (rather like an armoured sun hat) especially garnished – presumably with gold or jewels. There is no record of her being seen in armour.  ‘Our queen also took the field against the Scots with a numerous force one hundred miles from here,’ reported a London-based Venetian. Peter Martyr, Katherine’s old professor, heard that “Queen Katherine, in imitation of her mother Isabel and imbued by the spirit of her father … made a splendid oration to the English captains, told them to be ready to defend their territory, that the Lord smiled upon those who stood in defence of their own, and they should remember English courage excelled that of all other nations”.

In the invasion crises of the previous reign, Henry VII had gathered his power at Kenilworth castle. In 1513, nearby Warwick was the destination of the queen, her guns and likely muster point for Lovell’s troops. Instead of seeking refuge in the secure Tower of London and letting her husband’s councillors take the lead, Katherine’s decisive action moved her closer to danger and confirmed her role as national commander. She would not have been involved in any battle that might have occurred had the Scots broken through on the border, but her determination to be nearby to organise the country’s stretched resources sent all the right signals to the people she temporarily ruled.

Prior to Sean Cunningham’s find, historians had only known that Katherine was in Buckingham, around 60 miles north of London, when she received word of Surrey’s victory. But the new evidence suggests that the queen intended to travel further north, if not directly into battle like Joan of Arc, then at least into the vicinity of combat. James IV’s army was routed at Flodden Field, near the Northumberland village of Branxton. The fighting, which began in the afternoon of September 9, was ferocious. Courageous men on both sides fell in bloody hand-to-hand combat, but gradually the tide turned away from the Scots to leave the English in control of the field. Many of the Scots, or so we read in English accounts, were so “vengeable and cruel in their fighting” that their opponents preferred to kill them rather than capture them alive, contemptuously leaving the corpses naked on the ground. Among the dead was the king: James struggled like a man possessed only to fall within a few feet of the great Surrey himself. The flower of the nobility died with him; so did the Archbishop of St. Andrews, two bishops, and two abbots  and perhaps another eleven thousand or so of the more humble. English losses are estimated to have numbered about one thousand.

The impact of Flodden and its consequences was immediately felt in England. Surrey wrote at once to the Queen, informing her of the victory, and sent her James's banner and the bloody coat he had died in as trophies; Katherine duly sent them on to Henry by a herald. The body taken to London, which had been suitably bowelled, embalmed and cered. Then she gave devout thanks to God for Surrey's success, and returned in triumph to Richmond. On the way, she stayed the night at Woburn Abbey, and it was here that she took time to write to her husband:

Sir, My Lord Howard hath sent me a letter open to your Grace, within one of mine, by the which you shall see at length the great Victory that our Lord hath sent your subjects in your absence; and for this cause there is no need herein to trouble your Grace with long writing, but, to my thinking, this battle hath been to your Grace and all your realm the greatest honor that could be, and more than you should win all the crown of France; thanked be God of it, and I am sure your Grace forgetteth not to do this, which shall be cause to send you many more such great victories, as I trust he shall do. My husband, for hastiness, with Rougecross I could not send your Grace the piece of the King of Scots coat which John Glynn now brings. In this your Grace shall see how I keep my promise, sending you for your banners a king’s coat. I thought to send himself unto you, but our Englishmens’ hearts would not suffer it. It should have been better for him to have been in peace than have this reward. All that God sends is for the best. My Lord of Surrey, my Henry, would fain know your pleasure in the burying of the King of Scots’ body, for he has written to me so. With the next messenger your Grace’s pleasure may be herein known. And with this I make an end, praying God to send you home shortly, for without this no joy here can be accomplished; and for the same I pray, and now go to Our Lady of Walsingham that I promised so long ago to see. At Woburn the 16th of September. I send your Grace herein a bill found in a Scotsman’s purse of such things as the French King sent to the said King of Scots to make war against you, beseeching you to send Mathew hither as soon as this messenger comes to bring me tidings from your Grace. Your humble wife and true servant, Katharine.

Queen Katherine tactfully credits the victory against the Scots to Henry himself. She understood Henry and his desire for glory. Even while engaged in the Scottish campaign, she never forgot to congratulate him fulsomely on all that he did. According to many historians, Katherine had the intention of sending James's body (some even say "head") as a trophy to her husband, but the Englishmen thought it was too crude so she settled his bloodstained coat instead. I think Katherine’s letter is misinterpreted. In my opinion Katherine wanted to send James as a prisoner to France, in exchange for Henry sending her the Duke of Longueville – that’s what she meant by saying she intended to send the king’s person, but the stout ‘English hearts’ would not stand for it (and killed James) so she sent his bloodied coat instead. Katherine did not even dare to order the burial of James’s corpse without Henry’s agreement. She sent a message to Queen Margaret, offering her consolation for a husband killed by her own soldiers. ‘The queen of England, for the love she bears the queen of Scots, would gladly send a servant to comfort her,’ it said. Soon Friar Langley was on his way.

The island of Britain was, temporarily and for the first time, in the hands of two women. Katherine governed England as regent for her husband. It was her task to administer the victory. The newly widowed Margaret ruled in Scotland as protector for her one-year-old son, James V. The infant king had been crowned shortly after his father’s death at what, because of the tears shed for the dead left behind at Flodden, became known as the ‘Mourning Coronation’. Within a fortnight of Flodden, the talk was already of a truce. Katherine’s commanders in the north wrote recommending an end to the war. Many of the remaining Scottish nobles, however, were hankering for revenge and Katherine was asked to decide whether troops should be permanently billeted at certain points near the border. The situation was by no means stable and war could have flared again at any time. 

Katherine continued to oversee negotiations for a truce with the Scots, and showed great skill in her diplomatic messages to her man on the spot, the bishop of Durham. Langley acted as an intermediary in the negotiations for a truce that was not finally signed until the following February. At the same time, Katherine instructed Lord Dacre to assert King Henry’s right to become guardian of his nephew, the young James V of Scotland – potentially re-opening the troubled English claim to overlordship of Scotland. Henry VIII also did his bit to improve relations by begging the pope for permission to bury James IV at St Paul’s, even though the latter had been excommunicated for breaking a papally sanctioned treaty of nonaggression with England.   

Katherine oversaw the unwinding of the war machine, paying soldiers’ and sailors’ wages and signing off on the costs of artillery, shipping and transport. Even while at Walsingham, where she would have walked the last mile to the Virgin Mary’s shrine barefoot, she still had to oversee the day-to-day running of a country where domestic worries began to take precedence. The plague, for example, was killing three or four hundred Londoners a day. Although proud of the Scottish defeat and her own performance as regent, Katherine wanted Henry home. There would be “noo joye” here without him, she confided. On 21 October Henry sailed from Calais to Dover. He rushed eagerly home to Katherine, riding ‘in post’ to Richmond ‘where was such a loving meeting that every creature rejoiced’. They were back together again, this time as a pair of young conquerors. 

There had been rumours that she was pregnant and had lost a child while Henry was away. Now was a good time to start again. According to Julia Fox we cannot know whether those ambassadors who stated that she gave birth in the autumn of 1513 were right, but it is doubtful. Certainly no baby or miscarriage is mentioned in her correspondence, and it seems unlikely that she would have risked a much-wanted child by accompanying the army from London. But her mother, Isabella I of Castile, despite being pregnant rode with the troops.  

At that stage of her life, as Henry’s regime sent thousands of English soldiers to fight on the Scottish border, in France and at sea, Katherine was an ideal partner for her dynamic and aggressive husband. The chamber books and related papers can still offer much to deepen our understanding of how Henry and Katherine’s marriage developed, changed and soured over the following 25 years – a relationship that came to have a powerful influence on the course of the nation’s history.  

Sources:

Catherine of Aragon, Henry’s Spanish Queen by Giles Tremlett

Sister Queens: The Noble, Tragic Lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile by Julia Fox

Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, of the Reign of Henry VIII, Volumen 1 by J. S. Brewer

https://tudorsandotherhistories.wordpress.com/2015/09/09/a-field-of-blood-and-glory-flodden-field/

https://thefreelancehistorywriter.com/2012/10/27/the-battle-of-flodden/

https://blog.nationalarchives.gov.uk/katherine-of-aragon-and-an-army-for-the-north-in-1513/

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/when-catherine-aragon-led-englands-armies-victory-over-scotland-180975982/#.X4wBqV0fcr4.twitter

[ontherockswithsalt]

The Bet

Summary: Jamie raises the stakes on a game of darts.

“If you could have sex with a Disney princess, who would you pick?”

Eddie’s question slices through my concentration as I sit across from her at our precinct desk. And really, after four years working by her side, her question hardly surprises me.

I stop writing to glance up at her in confusion. “What?”

“Like, if you were gonna go for one–”

I can feel that slant across my brow and I offer her a slow shake of my head. “I think we’ve spent too much time in a car together. And they’re cartoon characters, Eddie.”

“It’s hypothetical, Jamie.”

I cough out a laugh. “Pass.”

She scoffs in response and her lashes flit in annoyance as she rolls her eyes. “You’re no fun,” she mutters.

My cheek pulls up with a hint of amusement and I glance down to return to my report. We work amid the typical surrounding chatter of the precinct until eventually, I lift my gaze from my paperwork to glance at Eddie once more.

“What about you?” I wonder. “Which Disney prince?”

She peers up, digging her teeth into her bottom lip and I know she’s excited that I returned her question. She taps her pen on her desk a few times while she glances off in thought.

“Robin Hood.”

Cocking my head back, I make a face, feeling my forehead crease, puzzled. “He’s not even a real person, he’s a fox.”

Eddie tips her head back and groans up toward the ceiling. “You’re so literal, Reagan. God!”

“Plus he’s a criminal. You would.”

She giggles and leans back in her chair, rocking a few times. “Is he?”

“Yes.”

“We’re talking about conflicting perceptions of good, then.”

“Alright, ethics professor. I’m talking about grand larceny.”

She laughs again and I shake my head to return to my report but I sneak one more good-humored glance at her.

“And in the original movie, he’s a real person, by the way,” she informs me.

Teasing her with a narrowed gaze, I nod my head. “Robin Hood, though?”

She spreads her hands and looks at me like how dare I not understand. “He’s clever,” she lists. “He’s handy with a bow and arrow. And his heart’s in the right place.”

I have to laugh at her reasoning, even though it endears her to me just the slightest.

“It’s a no-brainer.” She shrugs and returns to her computer.

“Eddie,” I sigh her name, clicking my pen as I peruse my forms. “You somehow manage to never surprise me, and yet still surprise me.”

When I glance up, I notice the soft smirk that curves on her lips as she types. “I light up your life, Reagan, admit it.”

With a chuckle, I shake my head. Really what she brings to my life, I can’t quite define. It’s funny when someone else has such an influence on your actual livelihood, when their decisions can be the difference between life and death for you, it becomes your whole perception of them. But I catch myself sometimes noticing details about her I wouldn’t care about with any other partner. We’ve become intertwined this way. And for a while I tried to resist it, not to notice when a flash of her blue eyes would resonate in my chest, when a rush of heat would inexplicably rise up my back if someone from the precinct, someone on the street, someone in a bar would linger close to her too long. But now I just accept these possessive reactions I have as normal considering how much time we spend together. I’ve beat myself up over those feelings for too long.

Reaching over, I pick up a paper clip, turn it around in my fingers a few times before I toss it over and it lands on her desk in front of her.

Slowly, she lifts her gaze to me.

I shrug and make a face like I’m in thoughtful contemplation. “Princess Jasmine,” I tell her. “From Aladdin.”

She opens her mouth, a grin lighting up her face before she sputters a surprised laugh. “Jamie Reagan!”

“What?”

She laughs harder, tipping back in her chair. “Oh, I love it. And honestly, not who I would have guessed for you.”

I hold out my hand as if to name the qualities on my fingers. “Rich girl,” I start, arching a serious eyebrow. “Nice ass. Daddy issues–”

Eddie snatches the paper clip and immediately chucks it back at me. “Get out of here.”

“My three weaknesses,” I laugh and pelt her with another one.

“You’re sick.”

Again, I shrug innocently and look down to scratch my name across the report. “Hey, it was your question. And you’re the one who would have sex with a fox. A felon!” I teasingly scold her as I straighten the stack of papers and push back from my desk. I swat her shoulder with my report. “Done,” I tell her. “I’m going to change.”

“I’m right behind you,” she murmurs.

After submitting my reports, I duck into the locker room and make quick work of swapping my uniform for my usual off-duty attire of jeans, a t-shirt, and boots. I linger in the hallway for Eddie and it isn’t long before she joins me, always unintentionally quickening my pulse for a moment when she rounds the corner looking the way she does out of uniform. Her blonde hair falls in charming waves over her shoulders as she flips it out of the jacket she wears over a simple t-shirt.

“Ready?” She asks in a breath.

“Yep.”

“Because you owe me two drinks–”

“No, no,” I groan with a shake of my head as we make our way down the precinct hallway, push open the door and jog down the steps.

“Yes! The agreement was loser buys the next round, and you lost twice in a row–”

“I’ve never lost,” I insist. “We weren’t keeping score that night, and something was wrong with those darts.”

“Oh, excuses! Something was wrong with my darts, he says,” she scoffs. “Face it, I have better aim than you.”

“Oh!” I shout. “What?”

“It’s okay to admit it.”

“Never.”

“And you owe me two margaritas tonight.”

“No, no, no, no,” I rattle off. “I won’t concede to that.”

“You wanna go again?” She asks. “Make it three drinks.”

“Maybe.” I smile. “You get pretty handsy after three drinks.” That comment earns me a quick jab from her elbow.

“You wish,” she teases.

“Let’s raise the stakes,” I suggest as we cross the street together. Lately, we’ve forgone our usual pub, a pretty heavy cop spot, in favor of a bar a few blocks uptown. It was louder and darker, and nobody there knew us. It’s nice not to feel so many people looking at us, questioning and making assumptions about our relationship.

“A real bet?” She muses. “I don’t want your money.”

“Not money.”

“Sexual favors?”

“Ha. No, that’s not fair,” I tell her as I grasp the door and pull it open for her. “Because you see,” I stop her, lightly taking hold of the open zipper of her jacket at her waist. “Once you tap this…”

She sets her jaw and teases me with an annoyed glare as I echo the same threat she gave me not too long ago. “Shut up,” she exhales and smacks her palm on my shoulder.

I feel the grin on my face before I nudge her inside the bar with a hand on her low back. “You’d be spoiled for life,” I finish.

“Yeah, yeah,” she groans. “You’re all talk, Reagan.”

It felt good once we finally acknowledged these fleeting urges we held – that yeah, we’ve made out a couple of times. There’s definitely something there. If we weren’t partners, if we didn’t have a professional relationship to screw up, would we give in and act on it? Hell yeah. And for a while, I denied it and it made me crazy. Teasing each other with the possibilities, knowing it was off the table, was much more gratifying than trying to deny that I didn’t want to go there.

“So name the stakes then, partner,” she tells me as we wait at the bar to start a tab.

“I’m thinking.” Then I nod at the bartender and call out, “You can put her drink on mine.”

“Aw, sport.” Eddie smiles beside me and leans into the bar. “Is this you admitting that you lost and you owe me one?”

“Never. This is me feeling generous.”

“Mm-hm.”

“And it’s a consolation drink. Because I’m about to school you so hard.”

“Yap, yap, yap,” she complains, making a talking gesture with her hand. “Let’s see some action.”

“Alright, if I win–”

“If I win,” she cuts in and I humor her with an expectant look. “Your ass is going up there to sing karaoke.” She nods to the corner stage at the front of the room where an old man is really committed to serenading the tables in front of him with ZZ Top’s Sharp Dressed Man.

“Oh hell no,” I insist.

“Yes!” Her eyes flash with excitement.

“Never gonna happen.”

She shrugs and eyes the cocktail glass that’s set in front of her. She picks it up, swirling her straw with her fingers a few times. “Better bring your A-game, then.”

“Mm-kay. And if I win,” I start, resting my palm on my chest.

“Yes?”

I pick up my pint glass from the bar and take the darts that the bartender set beside it. “I get to drive your Porsche.” I leave her with a meaningful arch of my brow and head past her toward the dart board in the back.

She gapes in shock as I pass and I have to chuckle to myself. She’s quick to trail behind me. “Oh, in your dreams!”

I turn and hold out my hands. “Is it a bet?”

“The way you drive? No way!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She sets her glass on our usual high top table across from the dart board and steps closer. Her lashes lower over glittering blue eyes as she peers up at me. “You couldn’t handle that car.”

My voice shifts lower when I tell her, “Oh, I could handle it.”

We exchange a wordless look for a moment before she lets out a measured exhale. “Fine,” she chirps as she holds out her hand for a handshake.

“It’s a bet,” I say as I grasp it firmly, then present her with the set of darts. “Ladies first.”

“By the way, you’ll be singing A Whole New World from the Aladdin soundtrack, final, no exceptions.”

A loud laugh booms out of me and with a playful push, I turn her toward the dart board. “I’ll be singing it from behind the wheel of your sweet Porsche Boxter down the West Side Highway.”

She shoots me an amusing side-eye and then lines up to take her turn.

Over the course of the cricket game, we keep the pace with one another. Admittedly, her aim was on point tonight which has me slightly nervous. I can feel the absence of cockiness from my tone once she catches up, landing her dart in the 18, leaving the Bull’s Eye the remaining game point for both of us.

“How’s that voice, Reagan?” She taunts, plucking her darts off the board. She turns to approach me and I appreciate her languid pace, the sway of her hips, the way she looks at me right now. “You need a sound check?” She steps up to me until her hip bumps my own. I don’t waver, just glance down at her as she looks up and baits me with that curved smirk of hers.

“I make this last shot and it’s over,” I tell her, briefly averting my gaze to her mouth. When she looks at me like that, I crave the taste of it all over again.

She shakes her head and offers me the set of darts. “Should I go put your name down on the karaoke list?”

“I will never,” I say and I feel my eyes narrow. “In my lifetime sing karaoke.”

She smiles. “And you will never drive my car.”

I grasp the three darts and take a step back from her before taking my place behind the mark on the floor.

“You know who else is clever–” I start. I look down and pick one dart from my palm, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger as I glance back at her. “Handy with a bow and arrow, and whose heart’s in the right place?”

A beat passes as I take a moment to center my aim, training my focus on the middle of the board. When I hear Eddie humor me with her reply: “Who?” She asks, I let the dart fly and it lands precisely inside the Bull’s Eye.

“Me.”

Her head falls back as soon as the dart sticks and she wails up toward the ceiling. “No!” She cries dramatically. “Ugghh!”

“That felt pretty good, I must say.”

She slumps over, folding her arms on the table and drops her head there. I watch her in amusement as she carries on a little longer, then eventually she stands up straight, downs the rest of her drink, and exhales a heavy breath.

“You will not be driving my car.”

“Hey, a bet’s a bet.”

“A bet is one thing, but that’s a Porsche. So think again.”

I set the remaining two darts on the table and step closer to her, sliding my hands into my front pockets. “I can’t decide if I want to take an early morning drive. Maybe the Brooklyn Bridge,” I ponder. “Or do a drive down to Atlantic City…” I mention the last one just to irritate her and it amuses me to see that temper heat up her eyes.

“You will drive my car to the Jersey Shore over my dead body.”

I offer a wry smile. “So you’re not honoring our bet, is that what you’re saying?”

She looks at me like she might give in for a moment, then glances away with an airy sigh. “My car’s at my parents’ in Chappaqua anyway. So too bad.”

“Hey, we can go visit your mom.” I shrug as I raise my pint glass to my mouth. “Your mom likes me.”

“Gee. Shocker,” she deadpans. “My mom’s easily duped by your Boy Scout manners and your decent face.”

I have to laugh at the way she’s pouting and I take another step toward her. “Well, at least someone appreciates them.”

Frowning, she folds her arms over her chest. “Not me. I can’t stand your face.”

I close in on her, the barrier of her arms the only thing separating us. “You’re such a sore loser,” I tease and I peer down at her, nudging her forehead with my own until she looks up at me.

Her lips twist, fighting off a smile as she attempts to look away. When I thread fingers through the belt loops on her jeans, she breaks, flinching with a giggle. “Don’t be cute. You’re just trying to seduce me out of my car.”

“How can I seduce you when you can’t stand my face?” My hands skim her sides where I hold her around her back. Eventually she drops her folded arms and her hands land on my chest.

“Exactly. You can’t,” she maintains, with a coy quirk of her lips as she lifts her gaze to me.

I want to kiss her. It seems completely natural the way she feels in my grasp, the way her hips tilt into mine. That urge tugs at me all the time, and for the most part, I find ways to resist acting on it.

As if she can read my mind, that smile curves along her face and she warns, “Don’t kiss me.” With a light tap of her fist, she jabs me right above my heart.

“I won’t,” I edge out, barely above a whisper, then I manage a heavy swallow and ease myself back. I clear my throat and gesture to the empty rocks glass on the table. “You want one more?”

“Yes.” She pushes herself off the wall, then slides her jacket off her shoulders and slips out of it. It makes me glance back to look at her, I’m shameless. If I thought I was wound up over her already, this just made it worse. She runs a hand through her hair and knows what she’s doing before adding, “And a rematch.”

***

The next day, I enjoy my morning off, not having to go into work until the late shift. I get a run in, I shower, I clean up around my apartment a little, and then head out. It’s a beautiful day in Brooklyn Heights and the sun feels good on my face. I need a day like this. Work, my brother, my dad have all had me so damn tense. A day for clarity can’t be underestimated.

After dropping off some dry-cleaning, I stop at my usual spot for a cup of strong coffee and make my way home.

When I round the corner, I feel myself squint as I near my apartment. Confusion dips across my brow and I hold a breath as if to tell myself this can’t be right when I see the silver sports car parked outside my place. I’d easily doubt it if it weren’t for Eddie perched against the hood while she waits.

She looks like a damn dream and I want every bit of it. The sun hits her hair that lazily blows with the quiet breeze and glows on her skin. She tilts her head behind dark aviator shades and rests her hands back on the hood as I approach.

I sip from my coffee cup while I take my time appreciating the view. I slant a smile at her and reach up to pull off my sunglasses. “Morning.”

“Good morning, sport.”

“Somebody made the trip out to the suburbs.”

“Yeah, you know,” she sighs the words. “A bet’s a bet, right?”

“You tell your mom I said hi?” I tease.

“Shut up,” she laughs softly.

I pace the length of the Porsche, its sleek metallic curves, and nod thoughtfully as I round the car and stop right in front of her. “This is a sexy car, hot shot.”

Proudly, she shrugs one shoulder. “Sexy car, sexy girl.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“Would you care to spend the morning with both?” She offers and I can’t imagine anything I’d want more right now. Out of her pocket, she pulls the black leather key fob and dangles a single key between us.

I eye the invitation and then quirk a curious brow at her. “You trust me?”

With a tilt of her head she gives me a smile that punches me in the gut a little bit. Sometimes my feelings for her sneak up on me. “More than anyone,” she says.

I slip the key from her finger and already the thrill heats me up from the inside. “Let’s do it, then.”

“No coffee in the Porsche,” she points before she heads to the passenger side.

I scoff, but step over to toss the cup in a nearby trashcan, then hold up my hands as if to prove my innocence.

We settle into the vehicle and I adjust the seat, appreciating the soft black leather interior. I slide the key in the ignition, turn it and the engine rumbles to life. I can feel the bass of it in my chest.

Close beside me, Eddie leans her head back on the headrest and turns to look at me. “It’s really fast, Reagan.”

I laugh softly, slip my sunglasses back on and tighten my grip on the arch of the steering wheel. “Well then buckle up, Princess.”

Quickly, her fist squeezes the shoulder of my t-shirt. “Call me Princess again,” she warns playfully through clenched teeth and then lets go to tug on her seatbelt.

Amused, I adjust the mirrors, shift, and glance behind me to assess the oncoming traffic. While I do, I tease her, mumbling over my shoulder in a quiet sing-song, “I can show you the world…”

She cracks up and when she does, it makes me smile. I flick the gear shift, release the clutch, and steal one more glance at her, knowing that this one has my heart for good.

[junker-town]

Let’s guess what John Sterling’s home run call is going to be for Giancarlo Stanton

It won’t be subtle. That’s all we know.

Yankees announcer John Sterling has a thing. That thing is coming up with cute catch phrases when a Yankees player hits a home run. Sometimes they’re over before you can process them, and they fit within the flow of the game. Sometimes, they’re abjectly awful and give brain mites to hundreds of thousands of people.

heard on the radio after Choi homers: "Ji-Man is a he man, oh boy, oh choy."

— Larry Fleisher (@larryfleisher) July 5, 2017

Now you have brain mites. We’re in this together.

This comes up now because Sterling is planning to deploy a new catch phrase. This one is going to be for Giancarlo Stanton, the big beefy baseball lad who hits baseballs quite far.

John Sterling says he's come up with a home run call for Giancarlo Stanton: “It’s an Italian phrase that rhymes." Any guesses? https://t.co/VZAp5zfGNQ

— NYT Sports (@NYTSports) March 27, 2018

We are compelled to guess.

Without the clue, the obvious speculation would have centered on rhymes, which are a Sterling specialty. Possible suggestions:

Giancarlo hit the ball far-lo!

Stan-ton clobbered that ball a man-ton.

Gian-cee has committed a felon-ee. He murdered that baseball and stole my heart!

Look at that Gian-car-go!

Giancarlo Stanton has hit another moonshot, and all I can think about is how I’m dead inside!

Tell my college sweetheart that I’m constantly replaying where we went wrong, as I travel down a path paved with regret and shame. And tell the pitcher that the baseball broke up when it reentered the atmosphere!

Giancarlo hit that ball real far-lo!

Something like that. It was definitely one of those at some point this offseason. But since then, it’s changed. Now, it’s an Italian phrase that rhymes.

It’s an Italian phrase that rhymes.

This is going to kill me. Let’s figure this out together.

We’ll use the greatest tool of lazy journalists anywhere: Google. After searching for “common Italian phrases” and “Italian phrases used in English,” we can whittle this down.

Phrases that use “goodbye” are logical guesses. Arrivederci is one. Ciao is probably the most famous one. Salve is probably a little too formal and unfamiliar to Americans, though buonanotte might be okay. We have to factor in the rhyme, though. We can’t forget the rhyme.

Here, then, are my guesses:

5.

Il baseball è stato punito! And Giancarlo’s season is not finito!

It almost goes somewhere interesting with the first part (“The baseball was punished!”) but then it devolves into utter nonsense by the end. It’s perfect, in other words.

4.

Arrivederci! Giancarlo sent that pitch to New Jersey!

Note: This is said so that “Jersey” rhymes with “Arrivederci,” which requires Sterling to slip into more of an Irish accent by the end of the call. I think he can do it. I have faith in him.

3.

The pitch came in floating, and Giancarlo said, ‘Buonanotte!’

I’m almost certainly missing something, but I’m not finding a great baseball rhyming match for arrivederci or buonanotte. This one is a stretch, but that’s probably a feature, not a bug.

2.

Chiamate un’ambulanza! Giancarlo has hit one to Rockefeller Plaza!

Pros: It doesn’t make sense (why would you need to call an ambulance for a baseball, it’s just a baseball, come on). It only vaguely rhymes. It’s completely over the top.

Cons: See, in this game, all of the cons are pros, and John Sterling doesn’t care what you think.

1.

Ciao! Giancarlo goes pow! Listen to the crowd scream wow. And how!

The call has to include ciao, I’ve decided. It’s something the average viewer will pick up immediately, which can’t be said about most of the above examples. And don’t underestimate just how fun it would be for Sterling to punctuate every use of an -ow word.

Also, this is easily the most obnoxious one. This is the winner.

Suggestions are welcome, but I think we’ve figured it out. I can’t wait until the season, when I absolutely will not tune in to find out if I’m correct with any of these. Thank you.

[wandashifflett]

Deep State Is Panicking Over President Trump’s Commutation of Roger Stone Because His Appeal Will Reveal RUSSIA NEVER GAVE EMAILS TO WIKILEAKS

Deep State Mueller, Weissman and Rosenstein came out to criticize President Trump’s commutation from going to prison, of Roger Stone which prevented Stone. 

The reason they’re panicking is because they understand that Stone’s appeal will be heard and it’ll demonstrate that there never was proof which Russia also provided over the emails that are hacked to WikiLeaks and resisted at the DNC.  This lie attracted to light will ruin the complete Russia collusion investigation scandal. On Friday President Trump commuted the sentence of Roger Stone allowing Stone to stay out of jail while he appeals the case he endured over the last year and a halfdozen. This activity sent shockwaves throughout the MSM and the State. Stone was a victim an investigation free of merit, of this Mueller witch investigation that prosecutors knew before the analysis opened was fraudulent. The Head of this Mueller Investigation made to frighten and remove President Trump from office, former FBI Director, Robert Mueller, supposedly released a statement to this commutation within an Op-Ed in the far-left Washington Post.   Some suspect that Mueller’s accomplice, the Andrew Weissmann, drafter the accounts because Mueller does not seem to have the mental faculties to draft such an account because his testimony in front of the home last year indicated.

TRENDING: Ocasio-Cortez claims Skyrocketing Offense In NYC Caused By Poor People Shoplifting Bread

The first three paragraphs of the op-ed of Mueller were as follows:

The job of the office — its report, indictments, guilty pleas and convictions of the special counsel — must speak for itself. But I feel compelled to respond both to wide claims which our investigation has been illegitimate and our intentions were improper, and also to claims that Roger Stone was a victim of our workplace. The Russia investigation was of paramount significance. Since he committed federal offenses stone was prosecuted and convicted. He remains a convicted felon, and appropriately so. Russia’s activities were a threat to America’s democracy. It was crucial that they be investigated and understood. The FBI had proof which the Russians had suggested which they might assist the campaign during the anonymous release of data harmful to the Democratic candidate. Along with the FBI knew that the Russians had done Beginning in July 2016, WikiLeaks released emails stolen by Russian intelligence officers by the Clinton effort. Clinton effort emails were released by other personas with false names — fronts to get Russian intelligence. The order specified lines of investigation for people to pursue, including coordination or any connections between the Russian government and individuals. One of the cases included Stone, an official about the effort throughout 2016 until mid-2015 and a supporter of this effort. Stone became a central figure in our investigation for two important reasons: He carried with people known to us to be Russian intelligence officers in 2016, and he contended progress understanding of WikiLeaks’ launch of emails.

Was Commuting Roger Stone Sentence The Perfect Thing To Do?

Former DAG, Rod Rosenstein, jumped to help the State — remember it was Rosenstein who created the Special Counsel based on no offenses with a range broad open — both unconstitutional: Stone is, allegedly wanted by the Mueller gang tainted behind the scenes coup leader, Andrew Weissman prior to a grand jury in New York.  Crime and law reported:

Special counsel Robert Mueller’s onetime lead lieutenant Andrew Weissmann wants to visit Trump campaign adviser Roger Stone hauled before a grand jury in New York State. “Time to place Roger Stone from the grand jury to find out what he knows about Trump however would not tell,” the onetime prosecutor and present New York University law professor composed on Friday afternoon. “Commutation can not stop that.” Several legal and media figures surfaced after President Donald Trump announced he was commuting the sentence of his friend under the controversial presidential prerogative given by the founding charter of America. The U.S. Constitution, Article II, Section 2 reads, in relevant part: [H]e shall have power to grant reprieves and pardons for offenses against the USA, but in cases of impeachment. “Roger Stone is currently a victim of this Russia Hoax the Left and its allies in the media battled for years in an attempt to sabotage the Trump Presidency,” the White House said in statement, that read like a Trump tweet, when announcing the commutation. “There was no collusion between the Trump Campaign, or even the Trump Administration, together with Russia. Such collusion was never anything other than a dream of partisans struggling to accept the result of this 2016 election”

Rosenstein, mueller and Weissmann are frightened.  They are aware that when the appeal in his situation of Roger Stone has been granted, which it should be, he’ll be able to determine the information that Russia colluded with the Trump effort are untrue.  The Russia collusion sham began with this Hillary campaign resisted the launch of emails in an effort.  As we’ve reported, in June 2016, Ellen Nakashima, a Deep State favorite from the Washington Post, released a report which the Democrat National Committee (DNC) was murdered by Russia. The company which validated this was its President Shawn Henry and Crowdstrike confirmed the claims. In December 2016,” Ms. Nakashima followed her up reporting with all the outlandish claim that the CIA had determined that Russia murdered the DNC because Russia needed Trump to win the election. Nakashima reported the Intel Community had determined that Russia sent the emails . This position was bolstered from the Mueller gang in their own attempts to have President Trump eliminated from office. WikiLeaks did launch DNC emails related to John Podesta, Hillary Clinton’s Campaign Manager, from the months prior to the 2016 Presidential election that showed massive corruption combined with an elitist attitude from members of the Hillary Clinton group — all prepared to do anything it took to win the election. On earlier June 16, 2019 and March 8, 2020, we presented arguments against the Mueller gang assertion that Russians murdered the DNC. Cyber specialist Yaacov Apelbaum submitted an report with information essentially proving the DNC was not murdered by the Russians. Next, after years of being hidden by tainted lying Representative Adam Schiff at Congress, a variety of testimonies related to this Russia collusion sham were unveiled after Schiff received stress from Richard Grenell, the Acting Director of National Intelligence (ADNI) to release the transcripts. 1 transcript was out of Crowdstrike’s Shawn Henry who said under oath which Crowdstrike had no signs that Russia actually”exfiltrated” the emails from the DNC. The whole’Russia stole the DNC emails and sent them to WikiLeaks’ narrative was a fraud. Others reported the Russians stole Hillary’s emails have been a lie. https://twitter.com/realmajordan/status/1281943517032591360?s=20 Many people suspected that from the DNC a young guy working for the DNC from the name of Seth Rich emails at 2016 and shared with them. Mr. Rich was killed in Washington D.C. at July 2016 plus it was tagged a robbery, however, his wallet, phone and watch were found on his person when the police arrived in the scene. We reported many oddities surrounding his passing.  (This is a link to an article concerning this subject.) The Mueller gang never interviewed Julian Assange out of WikiLeaks to determine who provided the DNC emails that were the origin of this Russia collusion sham to him and never seemed into the Seth Rich thing. Today Weissman wants to bring Russia collusion back up from the media through the Mueller op-ed?  It’s clear the Deep State will do anything it can to hide the fact — which Russia never was involved materially within our 2016 election.  It was a lie.  Hillary and Obama were prepared to risk a war to encourage their lie.

from Rayfield Review News https://therayfield.com/deep-state-is-panicking-over-president-trumps-commutation-of-roger-stone-because-his-appeal-will-reveal-russia-never-gave-emails-to-wikileaks from The Ray Field https://therayfieldreview.tumblr.com/post/623555749590827008

[therayfieldreview]

Deep State Is Panicking Over President Trump’s Commutation of Roger Stone Because His Appeal Will Reveal RUSSIA NEVER GAVE EMAILS TO WIKILEAKS

Deep State Mueller, Weissman and Rosenstein came out to criticize President Trump’s commutation from going to prison, of Roger Stone which prevented Stone. 

The reason they’re panicking is because they understand that Stone’s appeal will be heard and it’ll demonstrate that there never was proof which Russia also provided over the emails that are hacked to WikiLeaks and resisted at the DNC.  This lie attracted to light will ruin the complete Russia collusion investigation scandal. On Friday President Trump commuted the sentence of Roger Stone allowing Stone to stay out of jail while he appeals the case he endured over the last year and a halfdozen. This activity sent shockwaves throughout the MSM and the State. Stone was a victim an investigation free of merit, of this Mueller witch investigation that prosecutors knew before the analysis opened was fraudulent. The Head of this Mueller Investigation made to frighten and remove President Trump from office, former FBI Director, Robert Mueller, supposedly released a statement to this commutation within an Op-Ed in the far-left Washington Post.   Some suspect that Mueller’s accomplice, the Andrew Weissmann, drafter the accounts because Mueller does not seem to have the mental faculties to draft such an account because his testimony in front of the home last year indicated.

TRENDING: Ocasio-Cortez claims Skyrocketing Offense In NYC Caused By Poor People Shoplifting Bread

The first three paragraphs of the op-ed of Mueller were as follows:

The job of the office — its report, indictments, guilty pleas and convictions of the special counsel — must speak for itself. But I feel compelled to respond both to wide claims which our investigation has been illegitimate and our intentions were improper, and also to claims that Roger Stone was a victim of our workplace. The Russia investigation was of paramount significance. Since he committed federal offenses stone was prosecuted and convicted. He remains a convicted felon, and appropriately so. Russia’s activities were a threat to America’s democracy. It was crucial that they be investigated and understood. The FBI had proof which the Russians had suggested which they might assist the campaign during the anonymous release of data harmful to the Democratic candidate. Along with the FBI knew that the Russians had done Beginning in July 2016, WikiLeaks released emails stolen by Russian intelligence officers by the Clinton effort. Clinton effort emails were released by other personas with false names — fronts to get Russian intelligence. The order specified lines of investigation for people to pursue, including coordination or any connections between the Russian government and individuals. One of the cases included Stone, an official about the effort throughout 2016 until mid-2015 and a supporter of this effort. Stone became a central figure in our investigation for two important reasons: He carried with people known to us to be Russian intelligence officers in 2016, and he contended progress understanding of WikiLeaks’ launch of emails.

Was Commuting Roger Stone Sentence The Perfect Thing To Do?

Former DAG, Rod Rosenstein, jumped to help the State — remember it was Rosenstein who created the Special Counsel based on no offenses with a range broad open — both unconstitutional: Stone is, allegedly wanted by the Mueller gang tainted behind the scenes coup leader, Andrew Weissman prior to a grand jury in New York.  Crime and law reported:

Special counsel Robert Mueller’s onetime lead lieutenant Andrew Weissmann wants to visit Trump campaign adviser Roger Stone hauled before a grand jury in New York State. “Time to place Roger Stone from the grand jury to find out what he knows about Trump however would not tell,” the onetime prosecutor and present New York University law professor composed on Friday afternoon. “Commutation can not stop that.” Several legal and media figures surfaced after President Donald Trump announced he was commuting the sentence of his friend under the controversial presidential prerogative given by the founding charter of America. The U.S. Constitution, Article II, Section 2 reads, in relevant part: [H]e shall have power to grant reprieves and pardons for offenses against the USA, but in cases of impeachment. “Roger Stone is currently a victim of this Russia Hoax the Left and its allies in the media battled for years in an attempt to sabotage the Trump Presidency,” the White House said in statement, that read like a Trump tweet, when announcing the commutation. “There was no collusion between the Trump Campaign, or even the Trump Administration, together with Russia. Such collusion was never anything other than a dream of partisans struggling to accept the result of this 2016 election”

Rosenstein, mueller and Weissmann are frightened.  They are aware that when the appeal in his situation of Roger Stone has been granted, which it should be, he’ll be able to determine the information that Russia colluded with the Trump effort are untrue.  The Russia collusion sham began with this Hillary campaign resisted the launch of emails in an effort.  As we’ve reported, in June 2016, Ellen Nakashima, a Deep State favorite from the Washington Post, released a report which the Democrat National Committee (DNC) was murdered by Russia. The company which validated this was its President Shawn Henry and Crowdstrike confirmed the claims. In December 2016,” Ms. Nakashima followed her up reporting with all the outlandish claim that the CIA had determined that Russia murdered the DNC because Russia needed Trump to win the election. Nakashima reported the Intel Community had determined that Russia sent the emails . This position was bolstered from the Mueller gang in their own attempts to have President Trump eliminated from office. WikiLeaks did launch DNC emails related to John Podesta, Hillary Clinton’s Campaign Manager, from the months prior to the 2016 Presidential election that showed massive corruption combined with an elitist attitude from members of the Hillary Clinton group — all prepared to do anything it took to win the election. On earlier June 16, 2019 and March 8, 2020, we presented arguments against the Mueller gang assertion that Russians murdered the DNC. Cyber specialist Yaacov Apelbaum submitted an report with information essentially proving the DNC was not murdered by the Russians. Next, after years of being hidden by tainted lying Representative Adam Schiff at Congress, a variety of testimonies related to this Russia collusion sham were unveiled after Schiff received stress from Richard Grenell, the Acting Director of National Intelligence (ADNI) to release the transcripts. 1 transcript was out of Crowdstrike’s Shawn Henry who said under oath which Crowdstrike had no signs that Russia actually”exfiltrated” the emails from the DNC. The whole’Russia stole the DNC emails and sent them to WikiLeaks’ narrative was a fraud. Others reported the Russians stole Hillary’s emails have been a lie. https://twitter.com/realmajordan/status/1281943517032591360?s=20 Many people suspected that from the DNC a young guy working for the DNC from the name of Seth Rich emails at 2016 and shared with them. Mr. Rich was killed in Washington D.C. at July 2016 plus it was tagged a robbery, however, his wallet, phone and watch were found on his person when the police arrived in the scene. We reported many oddities surrounding his passing.  (This is a link to an article concerning this subject.) The Mueller gang never interviewed Julian Assange out of WikiLeaks to determine who provided the DNC emails that were the origin of this Russia collusion sham to him and never seemed into the Seth Rich thing. Today Weissman wants to bring Russia collusion back up from the media through the Mueller op-ed?  It’s clear the Deep State will do anything it can to hide the fact — which Russia never was involved materially within our 2016 election.  It was a lie.  Hillary and Obama were prepared to risk a war to encourage their lie.

from Rayfield Review News https://therayfield.com/deep-state-is-panicking-over-president-trumps-commutation-of-roger-stone-because-his-appeal-will-reveal-russia-never-gave-emails-to-wikileaks

[robininthelabyrinth]

prompt from Litra#2(/2) ColdFlash Instead of becoming a thief, Len became a cop. He's in internal affairs and determined to never let another cop get away with the things his dad did. Then Barry gets his powers and starts disappearing at strange times. Talking to people outside the precinct about active cases. ect. Clearly Len has to find the truth, and if all's well, then at least he'll have an excuse to spend time with the hot lab tech.

For the Coldflash week day 1: Role Reversal

Fic: An Internal Affair (Ao3 link)

Fandom: The FlashPairing: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart

Summary: Leonard Snart, Captain of Internal Affairs, is known as Captain Cold for a very good reason: He hates corrupt cops with a merciless vengeance, and once you’re on his list, you’re in serious trouble.

His next target?

A CCPD lab tech named Barry Allen who’s developed a suspicious habit of disappearing at random intervals.

—————————————————————————————————-

“Forgive me if I don’t get up to say hello,” Len drawls as Captain Singh walks into his office. He leans back in his office chair and gestures vaguely towards one of the seats, because if he doesn’t Singh will take one anyway.

Singh smiles tightly. He’s trying to be nice, but it’s hard for him. He takes a seat and makes an effort to make the smile more sincere in preparation for the nice, friendly chat that they’re not actually going to have. “Of course not,” he said, nodding at Len’s injured side like he knew something.

He knows nothing.

Oh, it was common knowledge by now that Leonard Snart, one of the CCPD’s finest undercover agents, recruited into the joint task force with the FBI and tasked with helping slowly take apart the unrestrained control the Families had over Central City, was grounded at last when information about his identity slipped out to such a degree that his (now former) colleagues in the criminal underworld turned on him with the hatred they reserved only for cops and traitors.

Everyone knew, also, that before he’d gotten out and back to the safety of police custody, Leonard Snart took a bullet to the gut and a bullet to the thigh.

Everyone knew that Leonard Snart was still healing from them, but that he’d refused time off and insisted on coming back to work - even accepting a position that was largely a desk job in order to do so.

Everyone knew, last but certainly not least, that Leonard Snart was a hell of a lot smarter than he seemed, because his humble acceptance of a desk job (to keep busy, he’d said, with a straight face and a bowed head) that was designed to keep him out of trouble was in fact just another stratagem, because it got Leonard Snart the job he’d been angling to get for who knew how long.

Internal Affairs.

Head of Internal Affairs.

It was a fairly impressive promotion, yes, although he had been moving up steadily in rank in absentia. But in view of his immense sacrifice, the vast amount of time Leonard Snart had spent underground - over a decade at least, and possibly two, the reports on the matter differed - gathering invaluable information on the criminal world, it was agreed that he would be rewarded with a particularly large promotion in order to compensate him for being assigned to a position that most cops reviled.

His superiors had been particularly happy to give him the position, because it satisfied their desire to reward him without letting him get too much in the way of their existing operations.

After all, no good cop actually wanted to be placed in Internal Affairs, where you investigated your friends and coworkers instead of the bad guys.

A job where you were hated by other cops.

That wasn’t an issue for Leonard Snart, as the department soon discovered, because he hated most cops just as much in return.

Abusive father that used to be a cop, the whispers said - they’d always known that, of course, but no one had put two and two together until Leonard Snart had been made a Captain and spent his first few months on the job systematically destroying men’s careers with an icy smile that never wavered.

Captain Cold, they called him - sneers and mockery at first, but as he took down one untouchable after another, men and women who were infamously corrupt but (it had been believed) were too valuable and good at their jobs to be removed, the term changed to one of fear and respect.

Mostly fear. Not a little bit of hatred, too, for the man who seemed to have nothing to hide and nothing to lose and whose entire existence, now, seemed wrapped around a vendetta aimed not at the criminals but at the members of the CCPD who enabled them.

That’s what was said about him.

It’s just as Len said: they know nothing.

Oh, it’s all true, all of it, all the rumors, everything from his piece of shit of an ex-cop dad to his time undercover to his manipulation of the system to get the position and power he wanted. They got all the big picture stuff right; they just messed up on the details.

It’s the details that matter most.

First off, some asshole at the CCPD let slip who Len was to someone who eventually told the Families about him. Len doesn’t yet know who it was, but he intends to find out, given what that little slip had cost him.

After all, Len didn’t just get shot when the Families discovered his betrayal.

He’d been kidnapped.

Tortured.

Sentenced to a slow and painful death, all alone in the dark.

And he would have died that death, too, if Mick Rory hadn’t come to save him.

Mick Rory, arsonist, pyromaniac, thief, muscle, thug.

Mick Rory, committed criminal.

Mick Rory, Leonard Snart’s best and maybe only goddamn friend in the whole wide world, who Len had lied to from day one and kept lying to through thick and thin. Who Len had used for his friendship, for his strength, for his credibility in the criminal community, and given him back nothing in return but lies.

Despite all of that, Mick came for him.

Mick fought through the assholes guarding the door and he shot the assholes who were torturing Len and he got Len out of there.

Mick got Len away from the Families, carried him in his arms while Len was bleeding like a stuck pig and scarcely aware of what was happening, crying like a child.

He got Len to the hospital, to safety, even though he knew Len was a cop now, a pig like all the others.

Then, when the police assigned to guard Len’s room arrived, they kicked him out.

They kicked him out.

After all, why would a good cop want a criminal hanging around?

Without anywhere else to go, Mick went home.

And at home…

The Families fire-bombed his house that very same night, knowing that his pyromania would keep him from saving himself.

They were right. He survived only due to a fluke, a part of the building falling fast enough to extinguish the fire faster than expected.

Mick Rory now lies in a hospital bed with in a very high end burn clinic in Keystone City, nearly two-thirds of his body burned, as the best paid doctors in the region tried to salvage what they can.

Len never even had a chance to thank him.

Lewis Snart might’ve been the one that taught Len what a corrupt cop looked like, but it was what the cops did to Mick Rory that makes Len truly hate them.

“Can I help you?” Len says to Captain Singh, head of the midtown precinct, who seems to have lost the ability to speak since entering the room.

“I want to discuss the newest case you’re working on,” Singh finally says.

“Have you got intel for me, then?” Len asks, deliberately cruel. Cops hate a snitch as bad as any felon, and the suggestion that Singh’s here to snitch gets the flinch Len was looking for.

He doesn’t actually have anything against Captain Singh personally - the guy’s a good cop, believe it or not, with good detection skills and better management skills and unlike most of the lot of them, he’s not completely in a Family pocket - but Singh’s a believer in the blue line, the idea of cop solidarity über alles, and until he remembers that his loyalty should come to justice and truth before friendship and comradery, the instinct to paper over the crimes of the cops on his team simply because he feels he can’t spare them, Len’s not about to give him the benefit of the doubt.

That’s why Singh’s here, after all. He’s not here to snitch.

He’s here to ask Len to back off.

More fool he. Len never backs off.

(Len will admit, however, that he’s a hypocrite: he’s never had any problem valuing friends over laws - his first loyalties are to Lisa, tucked far away with her skates and the college he’s paying for, and to Mick. But not at the expense of the corruption of the blue, the same goddamn people who are supposed to be protecting the helpless; that’s not a crime against society, which Len could forgive, but a crime against his city, and Len will never forgive that.)

“No,” Singh finally says. “Listen, I know this is a long shot -”

“Who?”

“I - what?”

“Who?” Len repeats. “Who do you want me to back off of?”

Singh looks suspicious; good for him. He’s not an idiot: he knows a request to back off will only make Len more suspicious.

“I don’t want you to back off, exactly,” he says. “More - I don’t want you wasting your time.”

Len arches his eyebrows and waits.

Singh’s an experienced cop, veteran of a thousand interrogations and interview rooms, and he knows how silence can be wielded as a weapon.

It’s just that Len’s better at it, that’s all.

“Barry Allen,” Singh says, giving up the name. “I don’t know how he got on your list -”

“He’s never here but his work always gets done,” Len says dryly.

“He’s efficient -”

“He’s always arriving late, looking like he’s been busy somewhere else.”

“He’s always had an issue with -”

“He disappears at odd times, say, around the same time something is going down.”

“There’s always something going down -”

“He knows more about crime scenes than he should upon first glance.”

“So he’s good at his job -”

“He talks about active cases with people outside the precinct.”

“We all do to some degree -”

“Brand new set of friends.”

“Not exactly a crime -”

“And all of that following nine months disappearance -”

“On medical leave!” Singh bursts out, a vein starting to pulse in his forehead. “He was in a coma!”

“Yes,” Len drawls, stretching the word out. “He was, wasn’t he? Then he got himself transferred out of the hospital into a private facility - a private facility run by Harrison Wells, aka the genius behind the Accelerator explosion that supposedly caused Allen’s little ‘accident’ - and what do you know? Not only does that place not have proper records as far as I can tell, it appears that, both before and after the explosion, they have only ever had the one patient.”

Singh is gaping at him.

“Now, I don’t know about you,” Len says, tilting his head to the side in his most irritating, exaggerating thoughtful way. “But when you put all that together with the fact that a lot of these bad habits are newly developed following that so-called coma of his - except for the punctuality, of course, that’s long-standing - you get a very interesting picture. One I intend to look at a bit more closely, until I find out what he’s hiding behind it.”

“Goddamnit, Cold, he was hit by lightning,” Singh says through gritted teeth. “Some changes are to be expected. It’s a miracle he even got that much of him back -”

“Yeah, about that,” Len says and now his teeth are bared. “Funny how his job was still open after nine months.”

Singh straightens up like he’s just been shocked by lightning himself.

“Funny, too, how there weren’t any concerns regarding his mental state after being hit by lightning,” Len continues. “But you know what’s the most funny of all?”

Singh is silent.

It’s okay, Len wasn’t asking that expecting an answer.

Len leans forward. “What I find the most funny, Captain Singh,” he says, as conversationally as he can, “is that he says that he was in a coma for nine months, right? Nine months. It’s been a little over nine months since the explosion. Nine months, and he’s back to work in a week? No bedsores, no muscle atrophy, no deterioration, no physical therapy, no occupational therapy - oh, no, our Mr. Allen apparently leaped out of his hospital bed and went for a goddamn run around Central City, fresh as a daisy. And, in the process, either during the coma or during that run -”

Len flips open the folder on his desk, revealing two photographs. One is Allen before his mysterious nine-month absence; one is after. He’s shirtless in both, because Len’s contacts sometimes like to snag shirtless pics for him ever since they figured out he was pansexual - something that usually pisses him off, except he wouldn’t have figured out the weirdest part of this whole Allen thing if they hadn’t so he supposes he has to forgive them.

“- the man picks up a set of abs,” Len concludes, his voice flat. “Now, Singh, I know you’ve given up ogling other people in your marriage vows, but tell me, in view of your past experience in this field, does one generally get that sort of body development lying in a hospital bed?!”

That last bit was said with a full on snarl.

Okay, so Len’s a bit touchy on the whole hospital bed/coma subject.

Singh’s shoulders slump down, a recognition that he doesn’t have the answers Len’s looking for and that there is no way that Len’s dropping this investigation - either into Allen, or into Singh for enabling him.

And because Len’s investigations are typically confidential among the Captain rank at this early stage, if Allen hears so much as a whisper on the subject before Len’s ready, Len will know exactly who to blame.

Len smiles at him. The smile has teeth.

“Good talk, Singh,” he says encouragingly. “Have a nice day, why don’t you?”

Singh’s lips are pressed together until they’re very nearly bloodless with rage, but he’s smart enough not to say anything. He knows how dangerous Len is.

He walks out with his shoulders squared, much like someone who wants to punch someone and is very nearly there, but barely refraining.

Len dials a number on the phone at his desk before grabbing his crutch and limping heavily over to the door that Singh had rather rudely left open, particularly given that he knows that Len prefers a closed door and has difficulty walking to close it.

“Chum in the water, sir?” his assistant asks dryly. Technically, Len ought to have a whole team, and he does, but he’s spread the best of them out widely among the precincts of the sprawling Central City. This isn’t really 'home base’ for him, just an office he can use for the time being, but that’s fine. As long as he can do his job, he’s fine. And he can do his job here with just him and his assistant.

(Why did he never consider investing in a personal assistant when he was a criminal? They’re so useful. He would’ve saved himself so much angst. For example, his current assistant, Danvers, is an avenging angel in disguise - he doesn’t know what he’d do without her.)

“Not him,” Len tells Danvers with a faint grin. “That was just a friendly chat. Come in and take some dictation, will you?”

“You make that sound so awful,” she observes. “I should sue for sexual harassment.”

“If you’re getting sexually harassed, then I’m in a hostile work environment.”

“Boss,” Danvers says, suppressing a grin. “You are a hostile work environment.”

“Kara,” Len says. “Just get your ass in here.”

She laughs and gets her ass in there with her speed-typing box - she used to be a court reporter before Len snagged her, and she’s amazing - just in time for the open phone line Len dialed to start picking up things on the other side.

The other side being the desk immediately adjacent to one Detective Joe West’s, who had the dubious honor of being Singh’s confidant, Allen’s mentor (possibly father?), and one of the poor souls lower down on Len’s list, given the remarkable speed by which the open investigation of his officer-involved shooting (West being the officer) got resolved.

Someone should really do something about the security in this place. Len plans on giving them a list before he leaves - but only after he’s done exploiting it.

“- don’t let Cold get to you, chief,” West is saying. “He’s got nothing on you.”

“That isn’t the issue,” Singh replies with a sigh. “I don’t want him here at all. Investigating my people -”

“When he could be doing something useful with his time,” West agrees. “Goddamn parasite.”

“Joe,” Singh says, mildly censoring. “He’s your superior officer.”

West snorts. “By cutting in line - yeah, yeah, I’ll back off. He did amazing work with the Families, not just here, but everywhere, I’ll give him that much. But I don’t have to appreciate the fact that the guy’s working out his childhood trauma on us.”

“Joe!” Singh exclaims. “That’s uncalled for.”

“Oh, come off it,” West says with a laugh. “We all know the story - dad was a bad cop and a mean drunk that liked to knock his kids around. And now the - I mean, our very respectable visiting Captain Cold, he’s got a vendetta against the boys in blue instead of the guys that really need to be taken off the streets.”

“If a cop’s done something wrong, they need to be taken off the streets too, Joe,” Singh says. “That’s what Internal Affairs does. You can’t hold it against Cold - I mean, Snart - that he’s good at his job.”

“Even you call him Cold,” West points out. “And that’s saying something.”

“No, Joe, it isn’t,” Singh replies, sighing. He sounds tired. If he was tired, he shouldn’t have tried to go up against Len. “I’m pretty sure I just called him it to his face, and that’s still not saying anything. The man really is good at his job, and he’s utterly fearless. We need someone like him rooting out corruption, we really do. But sometimes he goes barking up the wrong damn tree -”

“Someone in our precinct?” West asks, his tone lighting up with interest.

“That’s confidential,” Singh snaps, clearly remembering himself. “Damnit, Joe, he’ll have my job if you go around blabbing.”

“My lips are sealed,” West promises, and though he tries to raise the subject of Len a few more times, Singh is having none of it and firmly steers the conversation onto their current investigation.

After listening for a little longer, Len nods to himself and hangs up the line.

“…did he really call you Captain Cold to your face?” Danvers asks, her lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

“Cold, anyway,” Len says, allowing himself to smirk as she starts giggling. “I think I made him angry.”

“Boss,” she says, lifting her glasses and wiping the tears of laughter out of her eyes. “You make everyone angry. It’s practically your hobby.”

Len grins. She’s not wrong.

But the grin slowly fades as he thinks about the task he’s set for himself.

He’s engineered a few meetings between himself and Allen – usually he sets up the first meet and one of the local Jitters, where he can ‘accidentally’ stumble with his (annoyingly still-necessary) crutch to get people’s attention, and Allen’s no different.

Well, he was a bit oblivious but eventually it worked eventually. Len took the precaution of telling the barista that he was trying to get Allen’s attention, which definitely helped cover his ass stumbling so many times – Kendra thought he was hilarious and adorable and definitely hinted strongly to Allen to pay attention.

Since then, they’ve been sitting together whenever their coffee runs ‘coincidentally’ match up.

That’s probably how Singh realized that Len was onto Allen’s case, putting the seating and Len’s high-level sealed reports together.

The problem is, though, is that Allen is…frustrating.

“Thinking about your newest boytoy again?” Danvers asks.

She only looks innocent.

“Target,” Len corrects. “Not boytoy.”

“You’re basically a cat, boss,” she says. “You play with your food and your toys and your targets all the same way.”

“Basically a cat,” Len says, rolling his eyes. “This is what I get, is it? I employ you, you know.”

It’d taken weeks to break Danvers of her annoying habit of being excessively deferential, so she knows he doesn’t mean it.

Her smirk makes that very clear.

“You didn’t answer the question,” she points out.

“Because you phrased it in a stupid way,” Len grumbles. “But yeah, I was thinking about Allen.”

“What’s the problem, then?”

“Well, to start off, he’s extremely shady,” Len says. “He’s got to have some secret way in and out of Jitters, because I have literally blinked and he’s slipped out somehow. He’s always whispering about stuff with those new scientist friends of his from STAR Labs, and they’re almost always talking about the latest disaster in town, and that’s usually followed immediately by Allen disappearing for a bit.”

“That doesn’t seem like a problem,” Danvers says. “That sounds like a good lead.”

Len makes a face.

“No?”

“He’s nice,” Len complains. “Like, legitimately nice. I see why everyone here likes him; he’s friendly and acts all well-meaning and he helped an old lady cross the road last week –”

“Oh, I see the problem,” Danvers says, grinning. “You think he’s hot.”

“Of course he’s hot,” Len snaps. “Lots of people are hot; I’m pansexual. That doesn’t usually distract me from doing my job. Besides, he’s half my age.”

“You exaggerate,” she says. “But putting that aside, you are doing your job, because your job is figuring out if someone is up to something. If even you’re getting good vibes off Allen, then maybe, just maybe, this one time, a cigar is actually just a cigar.”

Len blinks at her.

“Maybe he’s clean,” she clarifies.

Len snorts. “He disappears for nine months, claims he was in a coma, and comes back in the best shape of his life,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “At the minimum that’s going to involve some sort of medical insurance fraud, or possibly unemployment fraud. Plus, the guy’s a pathological liar, at least when it comes to avoiding confrontation. He lies about everything.”

“But?”

“His lab work is good,” Len admits. “I haven’t seen any patterns of him altering evidence in favor of any given party, and the lab boys over at the Feds say the reports are basically done right, though they can’t quite get the centrifuge data to match up quite right.”

“A real enigma, then,” Danvers says. “Your favorite.”

“Danvers.”

“Don’t you Danvers me,” she says. “It is your favorite. You should go ask him out on a date.”

“I can’t date a target.”

“Go ask him out for a totally platonic dinner, then,” she says. “Do it when you know something’s about to go down – and don’t think I don’t know that just because you’ve been burned doesn’t mean your connections in the underworld are totally gone. That way you can eliminate each possible affiliation.”

“First off, that’s entrapment,” Len says. “Second, there are so many Families alone that we’d have to go on a date every day for a year for that to work. Third, he twig onto what I’m doing and deliberately not go to something he’s affiliated with to throw me off the scent. And fourth, even if it wasn’t a bad idea, it’s not working. There’s no Family-associated pattern to any of his disappearances!”

Danvers is sniggering.

Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted how often he’s been meeting up with Allen.

He glares at her balefully.

“Give me your notes on his movements,” she orders, as if she was the boss. “I’ll get them cross-referenced with all the different types of city events I can fine so you can do your pattern-spotting on the outside instead of the inside; if he’s going to some sort of dumb concert series or something, you wouldn’t want to waste your time. In the meantime, you have a date.”

“I’m not seeing Allen again until tomorrow,” Len objects automatically.

Danvers smirks at him like he’s admitted something. “Of course not,” she says. “But it’s an MR day.”

Len nods, glad that she reminded him. How hard it is to remember what day is which is one of the downsides of deliberately randomizing his visits to the clinic in Keystone where Mick is so that no one can track him when he goes there. He’d prefer to go on a regular schedule – Len’s always liked timing things – but it’s his duty to keep Mick safe. Or at least, it’s the very least he could do, after all Mick’s done for him.

If Len was a good man, he wouldn’t go at all. He’d leave Mick alone. He wouldn’t burden him with Len’s baggage and Len’s job and Len’s everything, not to mention the fact that Len’s enemies are even more numerous now than they were when he and Mick were partners.

The Families want Len’s head on a plate. Many of his old contacts in the underworld know he’s a cop now and hate him for it. The corrupt cops that fear him are gunning for him. Even the clean cops hate him for violating their precious boys-in-blue code.

Len would be better off being friends with no one at all, and if he was a good man, he would refrain.

But he’s not a good man.

“I’ll go catch a ride,” he says. “Is my pick-up here?”

Danvers wrinkles her nose. “Boss –”

“Oh, good, then Charlie is here.”

“I hate that guy,” she whines. “I don’t care if he’s good at losing people, he’s going to kidnap you and eat you one of these days.”

“You exaggerate,” Len says, shaking his head. “I’ve known Charlie for years –”

“He has priors for cannibalism and attempted cannibalism,” Danvers hisses. “Literal cannibalism.”

“Technically,” Len drawls. “He only has priors for defacing a corpse. Cannibalism isn’t technically a legal crime, and no one proved he was involved with any killing –”

“If you don’t ring me the second you get to the clinic, I’m going to hunt you down,” Danvers threatens. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Who exactly is the boss here?”

“You, sir,” she says. “Now go and do what I told you to do.”

Len rolls his eyes, but gets up, wincing. His leg and side are really pulling on him today. He uses Mick’s clinic to meet his physical and occupational therapist anyway, which is a good cover for going to visit Mick’s bedside, but going to PT/OT with an already sore leg is going to suck.

“And when you’re done with that, we can talk about you dating a target,” Danvers adds just as he gets to the door. “It’s actually not against the rules until there’s an official inquiry open.”

“No, Danvers.”

“I’ll book you a table for two at a nice restaurant for Friday,” she says. “It’ll have a pre-paid deposit and you’ll have no choice but to ask him to go or you’ll waste the money.”

“A, you’re abusing your access to my credit card,” Len says. “B, I could always go with someone else, did you think of that?”

“Boss,” Danvers says pityingly. “Mick can’t go, your sister’s out of town, I’m busy that night, and you have no other friends.”

…damnit.

“Have fun!”

“Mick wouldn’t bitch me out like this,” Len grumbles.

“I’ve been writing up all the details of your little investigations on a secure-line VPN groupchat for him to look at,” Danvers says cheerfully. “You wanna bet?”

Len flips her off and limps off towards the waiting car.

Mick would totally mock him over this whole Allen thing.

————————————————————————————————–

A/N: …this was meant to be a ficlet but is running away from me. It’s still in progress, so please feel free to throw suggestions as to things you might want to see this incorporate as it continues.

[ansyr1]

Central Florida 100: Housing, UCF and mourning New Zealand

Thad Seymour should be the interim president of UCF for a year or more, trustees decided Thursday. (Courtesy of UCF)

Chris Carmody, shareholder, GrayRobinson

Last week: On Thursday, for the second straight year, the Florida Senate passed legislation aimed at protecting vegetable gardens on private property. Wheat a second, that’s illegal? Well, not here in central Florida, but some south Florida cities got all artichoked up about front lawn gardens and outlawed them. Senator Rob Bradley thought it was about thyme to change that. His bill would prevent local govern-mint from restricting gardens, and exempts water control, fertilizer and invasive species ordinances. The bill still has a long road to hoe in the House, but perhaps this year the seeds will sprout. After all, it ain’t over lentil it’s over.

Last week: Recently, I had the opportunity to speak to two different organizations, a local LGBT group and the Trump Club of Seminole County. Clearly, these organizations have little in common. However, my presentation at both focused on recent successes and challenges regarding infrastructure, environment and public safety. Ironically, both had similar questions and concerns. It reminded me that perception is not always reality. People are people and at their core, everyone has the same desire for a quality life, safety in their homes and freedom to pursue happiness. If we concentrated on our shared goals, instead of our differences, achieving them would be infinitely easier.

Last week: So here is a great question…why would you leave your pet tied up or abandon them during a natural or manmade disaster? You don’t! If this is the kind of person you are, then you don’t deserve the privilege of having a fur baby as a friend. A bill, which was filed on March 1, would make it a criminal act to leave pets chained up during such events, specifically by making it a first-degree misdemeanor. Under the bill, those who leave their pets unattended or restrained during a disaster would face up to a year in jail or a fine up to $5,000. Perhaps this light sentence will make a person think next time they abandon man’s/woman’s best friend. Probably not.

Last week: In the aftermath of the horrific terrorist attack in New Zealand, it was heartwarming to see so many Orlandoans rallying together to support our brothers and sisters on the other side of the world. For those who lived here at the time of the terrorist attack at the Pulse nightclub, we know first-hand how important these rallies are in the aftermath to a community simultaneously grieving and healing. While we’re thousands of miles removed from each other, every modicum of support that we demonstrate towards the Muslim community of Christchurch is an affront to the terrorists and serves as a small step forward in the healing process. As those in Christchurch stood with Orlando in 2016, we stand with you now.

Francisco Gonzalez, philanthropy director, National Review Institute

Last week: Congratulations to Andrew Gillum for finding a job! Florida voters rejected him in November, but he still had $3.9 million cash on hand from that campaign and he’s found a way to use it: on a voter registration drive. Andrew seems to be really good at getting out the vote — and finding a way to pay himself for this new job.

Looking ahead: It’s amazing how far to the Left – and how far outside the Constitution – many in the Democratic Party have gone recently. There was a day when the biggest fight between Left and Right was about the size and role of government. Now, it’s about the foundation of the Republic itself. Top candidates for the Democratic ticket want to get rid of the Electoral College and have suggested reinventing the Supreme Court, while also consistently attacking the Bill of Rights. This is scary stuff. For the future of our country and the world, let’s work to keep it fantasy.

Eric Jackson, president/CEO, Total Roof Services Corp.; board member, Children’s Home Society of Florida

Looking ahead: The recent passage of the federal Family First Prevention Services Act sends a clear message: Children belong with their families. I’m encouraged to see the federal government’s commitment to invest in front-end services like parenting education, substance abuse treatment and counseling so more children can remain safely at home. This is a direction Children’s Home Society of Florida has been moving toward for years as it strives to end the need for foster care as we know it by keeping more families safe, strong and together. As Florida prepares to implement this legislation, I look forward to seeing the collaboration among the state and community-based care lead agencies.

Last week: In November, Floridians adopted Amendment 4 by a nearly two-thirds majority, restoring voting rights to convicted felons who had served their time and completed all other requirements. Now the Legislature is considering a bill that can potentially delay or take away those newly-reinstated rights — especially for lower-income people. Voter enfranchisement is supposed to level the playing field.

Looking ahead: Warren Buffett is offering a million dollars a year for life to anyone (or, at least, any of his employees) who picks a perfect Sweet 16 bracket for the NCAA basketball tournament. I took a look at the schedule, and I’m confident I’ve got a winner. I’m picking "TBA" for all sixteen. Now all I need is a job at Berkshire Hathaway.

Ken LaRoe, founder and CEO of First GREEN Bancorp

Last week: Thanks to Gov. DeSantis and Agriculture Commissioner Fried, the will of the people was finally met with the smokable marijuana bill. What this really means is that the whole flower — with its unique set of medicinal properties — can now be purchased and used in its many different methods of administration. What we need next is recreational. I’ve heard repeatedly the horrors of recreational. That is absolutely untrue as cannabis is not a gateway drug, is not addictive and cannot cause overdose. Let’s move the discussion out of the dark ages.

Looking ahead: I live in rural Lake County where I grew up. It used to be peaceful and quiet. Since all gun laws were made illegal by our NRA-pandering Republican legislature, every gun nut has set up a DIY gun range in their backyard. It’s basically like Aleppo all day long with semi-automatic and fully automatic gun fire going off. That is bad enough but now a number of the inconsiderates have starting shooting at night! Our sleep was rudely interrupted the other night at 11 p.m. by gunfire that lasted 15 minutes. When is the gun insanity going to stop?

Last week: The Altamonte Springs autonomous shuttle project has been in the works for over 20 years. Officials could not foresee autonomous vehicles back then, but they certainly could foresee a need for an S.R. 436 parallel corridor for transit. Businesses along the corridor have been giving the City easement and right-of-way access ever since, at no cost to taxpayers. What could cost Florida taxpayers is House Bill 4043 – a $2 million gift to the city to kick start a project between an unnamed private venture and the city. Privately run public shuttles could succeed. However, taxpayers subsidizing private entities are often on the hook for more.

Looking ahead: Police lurking in the shadows to catch speeders is neither safe, nor is it effective in reducing speeding. It’s also a sleazy way to enforce the speed limit. We need our police to be out in the open and visible to drivers. Assuming the police are there in the interest of public safety, what’s better, a cop behind a bush or a police vehicle in the open to remind all drivers to drive safely? Seminole County Sheriff’s vehicles are a good example of where you will almost always see the patrol car out in the open for everyone to see.

Last week: As Orlandoans, we mourn for the victims of the white nationalist inspired anti-Muslim terrorist massacres at the Al Noor Mosque and the Linwood Islamic Center in Christchurch, New Zealand, which killed 50 people. The cowardly terrorist mass shootings, which were live-streamed, horridly remind us of the deadly Pulse nightclub attack on June 12, 2016. The victims included New Zealanders of all racial backgrounds as well as nationals of Afghanistan, Bangladesh, India, Jordan, Pakistan and Saudi Arabia. And, while I can’t blame New Zealand for seeking to ban assault weapons after the massacre, I wonder what it will do to combat the root cause of the tragedy, violent white extremist ideology.

Looking ahead: The Mueller Report will soon be complete and will undoubtedly spawn a cannibalistic frenzy among politicians and pundits. Will it be released to the public? Let’s hope so, otherwise media outlets will be consumed in a bottomless sinkhole of Trumpian conspiracy theory and sensationalism for the next two years. Personally, I’d like to watch real news. Is there a smoking gun that will overwhelmingly demonstrate that President Donald Trump is a Manchurian Candidate for the Russians? Probably not. Did Trump fail to disclose business dealings with Russia opening the door for compromise? Probably so. So where does that leave us?

Last week: As our country becomes more divided, we must not forget one of the most critical lessons we teach our young children – the lesson of compassion and kindness regardless of differences. We are now being reminded of this valuable message by a local kindergarten class in Merritt Island in Brevard County. The class designed a symbol for kindness and hope for it to gain worldwide recognition. If enough people sign their online petition, it will be sent to the leaders of Congress, Mitch McConnell and Nancy Pelosi. Lately, it seems we could all benefit from this little reminder, so let’s hope the class achieves its goal!

Looking ahead: We are overlooking a group that was strongly affected by our country’s college-admissions scandal. The disastrous impact this systemwide abuse has had on students with learning disabilities is severe. They are already stigmatized and many students with learning differences report experiencing various forms of discriminationby peers and even teachers and staff. Many falsely believe that students with learning challenges get an unfair advantage. Sadly, the only unfair advantage here is the ridiculous sums of money parents are willing to pay college preparatory businesses so their children — whom they apparently believe can only be successful in college through dishonest and unethical scams — can attend an Ivy League school.

Last week: There was a modern-day David vs. Goliath showdown that took place in the Fifth District Court of Appeal. Rural East Orange County residents squared off again against an incestuous giant of developers, lobbyists, lawyers and even their own county government paid for by their own tax dollars. Broken promises, conflicted representation and the powerful trying to crush the little guy describes the fight of these residents to prevent incompatible development east of the urban service boundary in a part of Orange County already neglected for far too long. May the giant fall again this time because the cause is right.

Last week: The opening of EarthFare at the corner of Gore and Orange Avenue on Wednesday morning was a sight to behold. Hundreds of people lined up to enter the long-anticipated urban market with a chance to win big money gift cards. The crowd included enthusiastic health food shoppers, hopeful social media “influencers” live streaming their experience as well as people who just love the freebies from a grand opening. Patrons of EarthFare can count on an easy-to-access parking garage from Gore or Orange Avenue and plenty of seating to enjoy made-fresh breakfast, lunch or dinner options.

Last week: A program exists that provides tax incentives, including temporary deferrals on capital gains taxes when those gains are reinvest into qualified opportunity funds, called Opportunity Zones. The objective is to invest those funds into low-income communities. Often these programs end up benefiting the investor and work against low-income families. These programs should be carefully monitored to make sure they’re benefiting the community and not only the investor. This could easily spin into a situation where government revenue is lost and expenditure goes up for section 8 housing subsidies to accommodate the newly created group of homeless. It takes concerned citizens to hold government accountable and hopefully these communities can invest the time to do so.

Last week: It took the New Zealand government less than a week to pass a ban on semiautomatic assault rifles after last week’s horrific terrorist attack on two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand. In contrast, the Florida Legislature has refused to act on demands from a majority of Floridians to pass similar legislation nearly 3 years after the mass shooting involving AR-15s at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, and over a year after the mass shooting at the high school in Parkland. A state ban on all semiautomatic assault weapons and large-capacity magazines is not a 2nd Amendment issue; it’s a public safety issue.

Last week: Last week’s news about an innovative economic project in Lake County is exciting! In what looks to be the start of bigger things to come, U.S. and British grocers are partnering to bring tech and jobs to a new warehouse in Groveland by 2021. Described as an “advanced robotics customer fulfillment center,” the tech comes from England, and allows for the creation of about 400 “higher wage” jobs that blend robotic efficiencies with human intuition and interaction. The best economic development initiatives create or compliment jobs, not replace them, so this project looks to be a win/win for Central Florida.

Looking ahead: Junior Achievement of Central Florida and Chepenik Financial are partnering for the fifth year to hold the original 4.01K Race for Financial Fitness in Orlando Cultural Park on Saturday, March 30 at 8 a.m. The annual walk/run event brings people and families together for healthy fun as well as to showcase the importance of financial planning. Proceeds benefit Junior Achievement, which supports 50,000 students across Orange, Osceola, Seminole, and Volusia counties each year through programs like work-readiness, entrepreneurship and financial literacy skills, in addition to experiential learning. Come on out to run, learn and/or volunteer!

Last week: Orlando has a strong jazz community. Much of that strength is thanks to Jeff Rupert. Rupert runs the jazz department at UCF and works tirelessly to cultivate a strong jazz community throughout Central Florida. He hosts a monthly show at the Bamboo Center for the Arts, which is always a strong musical experience. Last week, he facilitated the UCF Orlando Jazz Festival. Each year, the festival hosts some of the best jazz musicians from around the world. The festival has passed, but it’s not too late to experience Orlando’s jazz scene. Check out the Timucua House Blue Bamboo for regular jazz programming.

Looking ahead: Mark Baratelli is known for his innovative and interesting cultural events. For years, he has curated and run the Daily City Food Truck Bazaar. Now he has devoted time and energy to building “Orlando Flea.” This market features the best makers and craftspeople from around Central Florida. It’s well worth attending. And the next Bazaar is Sunday, March 31 at Celine Orlando. The multi-level venue is in Downtown Orlando and easily accessible from the nearby parking at The Plaza at Pine and Orange. It runs from noon to 4 p.m. Don’t miss it!

Brendan O’Connor, editor in chief, Bungalower.com

Last week: Bikes are taking over Orlando and I’m not mad about it. But I am a little anxious. Bike share systems are here to stay, scooters are on the horizon too. The newly opened Colonial Pedestrian Bridge just opened up over the weekend along with a new segment of Gertrude’s Walk and it’s tough not to be swept up in some sort of pedal-powered ecstasy but I’ve managed to maintain a portion of cynicism and worry if Orlando drivers are ready for more cyclists on the road and if those cyclists in turn are aware that while fun, they should still pay attention.

Looking ahead: A number of lawsuits that preceded an internal "civil rights audit" by Facebook has resulted in a $5 million settlement to groups that include ACLU, CWA, and NFHA. The lawsuits claimed that Facebook was enabling discrimination in housing, employment, and credit advertising by allowing users to hyper-target their advertisements based on characteristics like race, gender, and age. As a result over 5,000 categories that include targeting ethnicity and religion will be removed from the platform.

Beverly Paulk, founding member, Central Florida Foundation and The Orlando Philharmonic

Last week: Thad Seymour is well qualified to lead the University of Central Florida as interim president for as long as needed. His leadership style is based on a calm, thoughtful, collaborative approach. He has long demonstrated his commitment to service in our community. Thad has led the team for UCF’s new downtown campus, reported so far to be on time and on budget. Thad and Katie, his wife, have provided key leadership to dozens of nonprofits and important community projects as individuals and as a couple. Central Florida is fortunate to include Thad and Katie as they continue to serve.

Last week: GOAA’s legal assault on Orlando Melbourne International Airport and Orlando Sanford International Airport for trademark infringement is rather perplexing since trademark infringement requires “likelihood of confusion to the public." Both cities conspicuously identify their names and any traveler can clearly locate Melbourne or Sanford on Google Maps. Nothing confusing about that! A traveler flying to Midway in Chicago or Love Field in Dallas knows they are not the primary airports for those particular cities, but selects them based on travel needs anyway. Not only is GOAA’s action legally misguided, but it flies in the face of the regionalism Central Florida has fostered for over 20 years.

Looking ahead: The acquisition of Fox’s entertainment assets by Disney adds super fuel to a jet powerhouse capable of explosively metabolizing and leveraging content simultaneously through movies, television, theme parks, merchandise, and so much more. Disney’s prior acquisitions of Marvel, Lucasfilm and Pixar paid off handsomely for investors over the past five years. Its current acquisition of Fox, albeit on the high side for $71 billion, is likely to do the same. While Wall Street continues to undervalue Disney with a forward P/E Ratio of 14.96, investors with a long-term view would be best served to consider Disney’s $163.2 billion market cap a bargain.

Last week: Florida is in an affordable housing crisis of its own making. For years lawmakers balanced budgets at the expense of low income people by stealing nearly $2 billion from the Sadowski Affordable Housing Trust Fund. They can do the right thing now by passing a renter’s bill of rights and paying back every dime they stole. A report from the National Low-Income Housing Coalition exposes the consequences of Florida’s misdeeds. The state, and especially Central Florida, are the least affordable places in the country for cost-burdened renters. A bill of rights would protect renters from predatory landlords and unlawful evictions. More should be done. But this is a first step to right a terrible wrong.

Ed Schons, president, Florida High Tech Corridor Council

Last week: For those who worry about technology eliminating jobs, news that supermarket giant Kroger will partner with British online grocer Ocado to build a 350,000-square-foot warehouse north of Groveland suggests otherwise. Kroger and Ocado said the “advanced robotics” customer fulfillment center will employ about 400 people in “high-paying” jobs when it opens in 2021 to ship Kroger grocery items in Central Florida. Twenty such facilities are planned nationwide.

Rick Singh, property appraiser, Orange County

Last week: The new bridge across Colonial Drive for bikers and pedestrians opened this week just east of I-4. As downtown Orlando continues to morph into an urban center, the focus on safe transportation without the introduction of more cars will be critical to attract residents and workers. The diagonally-placed bridge also crosses train tracks and will allow bikers and pedestrians safe access to the Lynx and SunRail stations, while avoiding about 40,000 cars per day. In addition, the central location facilitates bike travel to local parks and neighborhoods through the use of existing bike lanes. This is a welcome amenity to downtown living.

Looking ahead: Dead last. That’s where the Orlando Metro area ranks for housing affordability in the entire country. According to the newest Affordable Housing Gap Analysis by the National Low Income Housing Coalition, the area offers only 13 affordable and available rentals for every 100 families who need them. Our region will lose its attraction for business and industry if the labor market cannot afford to house itself. Affordable housing is Central Florida’s highest priority, and should be at the center of every conversation about growth and development.

Michael Slaymaker, professional fundraising executive

Last week: As I scroll through photos of the mass shooting in Christchurch, New Zealand, I can’t help but see the eerie comparison to the Pulse shooting in Orlando. The candles, flowers, the number of lives taken. People from all walks of life crying, praying and hugging. I so respect Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern and the way she is handling this atrocity. She reminds me how proud I am of Mayor Jacobs, Mayor Dyer and Commissioner Sheehan. In New Zealand, semi-automatic, "assault-style" weapons are due to be banned. Gun reforms will be announced within 10 days. Wish our local politicians had that power.

Anthony Suarez, president, Puerto Rican Bar Association of Florida

Last week: THousands of Venezuelan immigrants are in Florida and Central Florida currently. The largest growth group of students in our schools is Venezuelans. it is obvious that the nation is in crisis, but will our nation and Central Florida be accommodating to this humanitarian crisis, or will our law and order neighbors let these legal immigrants who overstay their visas, be treated like criminals? I have been attending meetings, church gatherings and listening to so many horror stories of violence, starvation from this community and I wonder, will the Legislature continue its quest to shut down our communities?

Looking ahead: UCF has made great strides nationally with its football program. Now the basketball program is looking to make its stamp on the nation. Its first appearance in the NCAA men’s tournament in 14 years, followed by the performance in football. will ensure UCF is known around the nation. With all the controversy surrounding the school, this will be welcomed news.

Last week: On the heels of being named the worst region in America for affordable housing, the Florida House thought it would be a good idea to once again take all the money out of the affordable housing fund and spend those dollars elsewhere. Estimated at $352 million, the Sadowski Fund was stripped to $123.6 million for affordable housing. That money will then go to panhandle hurricane relief, meaning the state will spend zero dollars in addressing the most pressing need we have. It makes no sense to continue complaining about the lack of housing and then take the money that was intended to solve that problem.

Last week: The playing field for students attempting to qualify for top-rated colleges and universities just became more uneven with the recent college admissions scandal. And with the continuing erosion of our public school system, the education opportunities for the general student population remains increasingly challenging and often unattainable. More unfortunate perhaps is the lesson we are teaching our students that it is okay to bribe, cheat and lie to gain access to their preferred college or to request false accommodations when taking the SAT and ACT tests in order to gain an advantage over less affluent students. Time to turn those negative lessons into a positive for ALL students.

Looking ahead: Tragically, rates of death by suicide in the U.S. have increased by more than 25 percent in the past 20 years, according to the CDC. AdventHealth is collaborating with the University of Central Florida to address this alarming epidemic. Our goal is to track patients who come into our ER with suicidal thoughts or behaviors, and provide intensive support services after they’re discharged. I’d like to thank UCF’s team for working with us to assess the effectiveness of this approach, as we work to learn how best to support distressed patients and bring them back to health — and most importantly, apply our learnings far and wide.

Jen Vargas, Jen Vargas, producer/host, FilmSlam at Enzian Theater

Last week: The 180+ films of this year’s Florida Film Festival were announced this week. Great news! Todd Thompson, a Florida filmmaker, will debut his feature-length documentary, "Woman in Motion," and on opening night no less! This is big news because, historically, Florida made films are rarely seen during this 10-day event. Being an Oscar qualifying festival in three film categories (Documentary, Animated and Live Action shorts), Florida Film Fest is a very popular Oscar stop among filmmakers. Thompson is a longtime alum and past winner of FilmSlam and no stranger to Florida Film Fest, which begins April 12.

Looking ahead: Studio Movie Grill at Sunset Walk opens to the public on March 28! Located at Margaritaville Resort Orlando, this 12-screen, luxury dine-in theater has over 1,000 leather recliners, a full bar, chef inspired menu, and hand-crafted cocktails, all of which may be delivered right to your seat. Residents of Tampa and Seminole are already familiar with this brand which will be a first for us here in Central Florida and a slick addition to the unique dining, shopping, and resort options at Margaritaville’s outdoor Sunset Walk complex. Welcome to Orlando, Studio Movie Grill!

Carol Wick, principal, Convergent Nonprofit Solutions

Last week: The Kesse family won the right to have a private investigator examine all the files from the Orlando Police department regarding the disappearance of their daughter Jennifer. She has been missing since 2006 but her family has not given up hope that she may one day be found or at least, that they would have closure. While this is controversial on many sides, this long-standing mystery haunts us all here in Central Florida and we hope the Kesse’s can at least find some answers to what happened to their daughter all those years ago.

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How the Army Recruits Straight Out of Prisons

As job fairs go, this one didnt look much different from any other. Men and women of various ages wandered from booth to booth in business attire, filling out applications and handing out resumes. A photographer was set up on one side of the room, taking professional pictures the job seekers could use on their LinkedIn pages.

However, there was one big difference between this, the second annual Second Chance Job Fair, and a regular employment expo. Here, everyone looking for work had been to jail.

Twenty-three employers had been invited by the organizers, M.A.D.E. Transitional Services, a Rockland County-based reentry organization; only a handful showed up. Unibody Fitness, a Brooklyn personal training business run by ex-offenders, had a table set up, and a representative from People Ready, the temp agency, was on hand. Tarik Greene, M.A.D.E.s co-founder and deputy executive director, said Shake Shack came last year, but didnt make it this time.

A volunteer sat at a card table offering resume advice.

There are too many people saying, Ill take anything, she said. It tells me they havent had an opportunity to think expansively; how will they tell their own story?

If that story happened to involve joining the military, theyd be in luck. Along the far wall, two U.S. Army recruiters sat quietly, handing out brochures to the smattering of job seekers who slowed down long enough to take one. Unlike most employers, who are normally solicited by M.A.D.E., Greene said the Army in fact reached out to them this year and asked to attend.

You can have one non-violent felony as an adult, one of the recruiters, Staff Sergeant Jeffrey Boswell, told The Daily Beast. Some of the best and most capable candidates we get require a waiver.

The current pool of qualified applicants from which the Army can recruit is the shallowest in over a decade, with just a quarter of all 17 to 24 year-olds eligible to join and only one in eight willing to. Stretched thinner than its been in years, with a mandate to grow by 8.500 soldiers under the 2018 National Defense Authorization Act, the Army is granting so-called moral waivers to people it would likely turn away under normal conditions, including convicted felons.

Recruitment standards in the U.S. military are elastic, to put it mildly, depending on need, according to retired Army Colonel Andrew Bacevich, who graduated from, and later taught at, West Point.

When recruits are hard to come by, standards previously considered sacrosanct get waived, Bacevich told The Daily Beast. Offering waivers to convicted felons suggests that the servicesprobably the army in particularare struggling to meet their quotas of warm and willing bodies. As to whether military service offers a way to turn your life around, there's no easy answer. For some, sure. For others, it's probably a dumb idea for the individual and for the service.

The vagaries of the job market have a notable impact on the use of moral waivers, said Kate Germano, who commanded the Marine Corps 4th Recruit Battalion at Parris Island before retiring as a Lt. Colonel in 2016.

Its becoming harder for all of the services to make their recruiting goals; this is what happens anytime conditions favor the kids just graduating high school or college, Germano told The Daily Beast. But if we just open the floodgates without looking at the whole person because were worried about the economy being strong and not making mission, thats when things become problematic.

The United States Army does not actively seek individuals who require conduct waivers, Army spokesperson Lt. Nina Hill told The Daily Beast in a statement. We seek individuals who have the ability to meet all of our cognitive, physical and moral qualifications and can successfully complete a term of service. A small percent of new recruits meet the requirements to join the Army with a conduct waiver. We only consider conduct waivers for individuals who are otherwise fully qualified and have met prescribed waiting periods that prove rehabilitation has occurred. If an individual requests a conduct waiver for a past offense, factors such as the nature of offense, how long ago the offense occurred, and the overall number of infractions, are critical in determining suitability for service. All new recruits must meet Department of Defense accessions standards.

Moral waivers are given out on a case-by-case basis, and as Chief of Staff of the Army Gen. Mark Milley said last year, considering a waiver is not the same as granting a waiver.

Still, between 2003 and 2006, the military allowed 4,230 convicted felons to enlist by granting them moral waivers. In 2006 and 2007, waivers were given to three applicants with manslaughter convictions; 11 who had been convicted of arson; 142 who had been convicted on burglary charges; seven with convictions for sex crimes; three with convictions for making terrorist threats, including bomb threats; and one with a conviction for kidnapping. In 2008, the Army issued 372 waivers for felony convictions, down from 511 the year before. In 2009, the Army granted 220 waivers for Major Misconduct (Conviction), seven in 2010, and none between 2011-2014.

One in three American adults70 million peoplehave a criminal conviction. 650,000 people are released from prison in the United States each year, and three in four of them are unable to find a job during the first year theyre out.

I dont know how many ex-prisoners would want to do it, but the military can be a good place to get your life together, said Brian DiMarco, a NYC wine and liquor importer who spent three years finding himself in the Navy after high school. It can be a little bit like trading one form of prison for another, but at least the military gives you free healthcare for life.

Peter Mansoor, a retired Army colonel who served as executive officer to General David Petraeus in Iraq and now teaches military history at Ohio State, isnt particularly keen on moral waivers but is pragmatic about their existence.

In general its better if the military does not grant moral waivers because we know that on average, people who have had offenses in their past dont do as well with discipline in the military, Mansoor told The Daily Beast. That being said, for those that do join having received a moral waiver, some of them do turn their lives around and its a great thing for those people. Im just not sure that we want to devise military policy on that basis, though.

When she was on recruiting duty, Kate Germanos team analyzed situation data and found a high correlation between people with felony waivers and those who didnt complete basic training. Yet, there are still some good candidates in there. Its just a matter of identifying them, she explained.

Im still in touch today with people I took a chance on, so it does work, said Germano. But if were not looking at both the whole person and the systems we have in place to make sure theyre committed, thats how you end up with those horror stories.

Plenty of recruits given moral waivers turn out to be model soldiers. But there are a fair number of horror stories, and theyre not hard to find. In 2005, the Army accepted recruit Steven Dale Green under a moral waiver for three past convictions (underage alcohol possession, drug possession, and fighting). The following year, while deployed to Iraq, Green and four other soldiers gang-raped 14-year-old Abeer Qassim al-Janabi, murdered her and her family, then burned the bodies. A year after that, Washington Navy Yard shooter Aaron Alexis joined the service despite being arrested on a gun charge in 2004.

The successes, on the other hand, get far less attention.

Nasser Hempel spent 11 years behind bars for his role in a 1991 armed robbery outside a Houston nightclub. Shortly after he was released in 2002, Hempel took a trip to South Padre Island with some friends for Spring Break. The Army had an obstacle course set up, and Hempel decided to give it a try.

I was working for Viacom at the time, hanging their billboards, so I did a lot of climbing on a daily basis, Hempel told The Daily Beast. Me being a little cocky, I asked one of the recruiters who had the fastest time. He pointed to this guy from the 10th Mountain Division, a hotshot. I said, Im gonna beat your time. And I beat his time.

Impressed, the recruiters asked Hempel if he had ever considered joining the Army. He replied that he had just gotten out of prisonit had been less than a yearand was afraid he wouldnt qualify. You might with a moral waiver, the recruiters told him.

Like most people who have done significant amounts of time, finding his footing again on the outside was difficult for Hempel. When life began to hit him like a sledgehammer, Hempel decided to go to his local recruiting office and see what his options were. He was 33 years old.

The recruiter he spoke with seemed to lose interest when Hempel revealed his criminal history. But another one sitting nearby overheard their conversation and took an interest in Hempel, offering to help guide him through the moral waiver process. They began the paperwork, and eight months later, the day after Hempel got off parole he signed his Army contract, becoming one of 1,002 incoming recruits that year with felony records.

After basic training, Hempel would ship out for back-to-back tours in Iraq and Afghanistan with the 808th Engineering Company. He left the Army and returned to Houston five years ago, where he now runs a bootcamp-style gym.

Theres been some collateral damage, said Hempel, choking up. I got blown up three times. I ended up getting divorced. There was a time when I got back that I was borderline homeless. It was a rough time but to this day I still look back and say, I wouldnt change a thing.

There are studies that show a correlation between pre-service criminal history and in-service misconduct. Others have found service members with moral waivers are more likely to complete their terms of service than those accepted without them. A more accurate picture only comes into focus upon a more granular analysis of the available data. One study found the correlation between unsuitability discharges and whether or not a recruit graduated from high school to be significantly stronger than having been issued a moral waiver.

Thus, unless we are prepared to say that, across the board, non-graduates make bad troops, we should not say that ex-offenders cannot make good ones, wrote legal scholar Michael Boucai in his 2007 study, Balancing Your Strengths Against Your Felonies: Considerations for Military Recruitment of Ex-Offenders.

Of course, the absence of a criminal record doesnt always mean an absence of criminal behavior. While the rate of criminal offenses is pretty evenly distributed across the general population, those who wind up getting charged with those crimes is not, explained Boucai, now a professor at the University of Buffalo School of Law.

If the question is how many people in the Armed Forces have smoked marijuana at some point, youll get a pretty good cross-section across all races, Boucai told The Daily Beast. But if the question is how many people have smoked marijuana and have some sort of criminal record for it, thats going to be overwhelmingly black and brown. The idea that were letting in people who are morally bad is based on the criminal record, which is a record of encounters with the criminal justice system. In reality, its very often not telling us who has actually committed an offense.

According to Boucai, bringing ex-offenders into the military is not only good for the offenders themselves but also a smart investment for the population at large, by allowing offenders to restart their lives when the bulk of the private sector has all but discarded them.

Right now, there exists a de facto ex-offender recruitment policy in the US military, maintains Boucai. Recruiters need to hit their targets when the service needs bodies, often meaning, Boucai maintains, that violations are ignored, applicants are told to omit negative information, and background checks are left incomplete.

Each of the services has different standards and approval rates when it comes to waivers. To those who receive them, moral waivers are for the most part presented as an exception, not the rule. But, contends Boucai, many problems related to ex-offenders in the service might be traced back to this system of winks and nods, rather than simply acknowledging the fact that the military ranks include a certain number of people with checkered pasts, says Boucai. (People should understand that the majority of ex-offenders, when offered a job, make good employees, former NYC Corrections Commissioner Martin Horn told The Daily Beast, and it undermines civil society when we ostracize them.)

According to a 2013 Army War College Strategy Research Project by Lt. Colonel John Haefner, informed leadership could pay closer attention to recruits who enlisted under moral waiversnot just to steer them away from trouble, but to be better prepared for other issues that could arise, such as the fact that males with a criminal conviction are 200 percent more likely to attempt suicide than those without.

However, privacy laws prohibit commanders from knowing which soldiers under their supervision have records or whats in their criminal histories.

Nevertheless, if a recruiter has adequately tested an applicants commitment to joining the military before they ship out to boot camp, the higher-ups dont need to know about their pasts, said Kate Germano. Whats important, she maintains, is doing proper due diligence on people from the very beginning to make sure theyre a good fit for the service and the service is a good fit for them.

As the Second Chance Job Fair wound down, Staff Sgt. Boswell, the recruiter, said he was feeling cautiously optimistic.

I think prison is kind of good preparation for the Army, in a way, he said. You have to be mentally tough in the Army, you also have to be mentally tough in prison.

Boswells partner, Staff Sergeant Minji Hwang, explained that people with criminal histories tend to be really motivated when theyre with us, because they have a lot to prove, as well as a lot to lose. Plus, she added, Army benefits are really, really good.

The two may not have broken any recruiting records that day, though they emphasized that that wasnt really the point.

We didnt come here expecting to recruit dozens of people, Boswell said, but we definitely got two or three that we can help.

Read more: https://www.thedailybeast.com/how-the-army-recruits-straight-out-of-prisons

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