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stressedspidergirlsfandomblog · 5 years ago

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This is the first chapter to that random ass idea I had that got over 100 notes. Thanks to @ahh-fuck and @ruusverd-witcher annnd @shelikesgoodfics this actually got developed into more than a tumblr post. So, thanks. You can read here under the cut.

When Geralt had first left Kaer Morhen, he had had trouble believing everything he had been taught about humans was true. Times had been changing, and the general public had been turning on witchers. He had left, expecting to make some kind of fortune, a name for himself, and to live differently than he had lived in the keep. He had expected fear to stop dogging his footsteps. He had been wrong.

And yet, when he had killed his first monster, he had learned every single cynical training master had been correct. The girl had not thanked him, he had not done a noble deed, he had simply killed a rapist, and terrified normal people.

His life, as promised, had been full of miserable hardship, frequent wounds, and constant discomfort. It was near impossible to get a room in some towns, and yet in others he did just fine. He had some friends across the continent, at least until Blaviken. There, he had managed to turn himself into an enemy of most people, and with his distinctive white hair it wasn’t as if he was easy to hide. The alderman had turned on him, but without arresting or killing him at the very least.

Stregobor had made his life even worse, spreading disdain for witchers all because Geralt hadn’t wanted to help him. They had a history as it was, and it wasn’t the first time Stregobor had fucked him over. The sorcerer had almost gotten him killed all thanks to general maliciousness and a faulty hourglass. Geralt was sure if he ran into Stregobor again, it would end badly for him, again.

It was for the best that he didn’t have feelings, not truly. A few vestigial memories, much like the now-useless tendon some people still had in their forearms. A reflex, perhaps, was all that remained of what it meant to feel. And if that didn’t always feel exactly true, well, he would make it true. The trials had hurt, and he had no desire to find himself back at Kaer Morhen as a failed experiment where they would attempt more trials to try and eradicate any lingering feelings of his. Not that he desired or didn’t desire, he killed monsters for coin so he could stay alive. That was it, that was all there was. He meditated to maintain control of his mind and body, he slept when and where he safely could, he ate when he could, and whenever possible, found a hot bath.

Until Posada.

He had decided to check out a ‘doevil’ in the fields at the Edge of the World. Since no such things existed, he had been somewhat derisive with the local townsfolk looking to contract his services. While he had not been wrong, the creature had been anything but a ‘doevil’ of any kind, he had received more than he bargained for.

The creature had been a sylvan, and while they had tussled, the creature had meant him no real harm. While they had tried riddles, and scuffles, it had near ended bloody when Filavandrel and his ilk had debated killing the witcher and Jaskier. Who had, for some gods forsaken reason seen Geralt in a tavern and decided to attach himself to the witcher like a burr on a woolen blanket. It had not displeased Geralt, since he could not feel displeasure, but it did inconvenience him, because now he had another life to protect other than his own. And he did not need that kind of encumbrance.

Nothing he had done had worked to drive the bard away, which had made things even more difficult. Not aggravating, he would have no idea what aggravation felt like. Not speaking to the bard did nothing. Not sharing supplies did nothing. Not giving details of various monster hunts did nothing. So Geralt switched tactics. He tried describing how he got his scars in gruesome detail, or at least so he’d thought. The bard simply complained he was light on details like always and had asked more questions. Just how bad did the bite of a wyvern hurt? Was a crushed ankle truly that hard for a witcher to recover from? Utterly mystified, Geralt had given up on driving away his unwanted hanger-on.

Soon enough they were sharing whether Geralt wanted to or not. If ‘want’ was even the right word for it. He was not accustomed to having to share what little he had. It didn’t make any sense to him that the bard would add to his supplies, or share a nicer blanket, or anything else. But being devoid of feelings it would make sense he would not understand the actions of those who had them and acted on them. Jaskier noticed he was cold, and as such put their bedrolls together and spread his cloak around them both. Jaskier’s cloak was much better quality and trapped heat far better. While he could not conceive of a single reason for the bard to do this, it meant he was warmer and experienced less physical discomfort so he didn’t bother to protest.

No part of the witcher code said he had to suffer privation. Nothing he had been taught said he had to be uncomfortable. It was just that he probably would be. If Jaskier could afford better food than he could, there was no rule saying he could not eat some of it if it was offered to him. And so by that logic he was able to accept things from the bard without hesitation. To kill monsters he needed enough to eat, and he could not lose fingers or toes to frostbite and still maintain his skills as a swordsman.

Another thing that made no sense to him at all was Jaskier’s lack of fear of him and total acceptance that Geralt would rarely if ever speak to him. Sometimes he would share a one-word answer or question, but much more than that was frequently out of the question. After he had made the mistake of letting Jaskier listen in on him negotiating a contract, the bard had puffed up full of righteous indignation.

‘Why won’t you talk to me like that? Look at you! You can speak full sentences when you want to! I thought all of that up in Posada was because of the elves and the lady of the fields, I thought it was some kind of magic. Now I know you just choose to be taciturn and silent with me on purpose!’

It had been patently unfair and untrue, Geralt just had no idea what to say to him most of the time. His response was simply ‘then go.’ He would have liked to have said ‘if it bothers you so much, you can go. I never asked you along. I’ve never asked you to stay, I’ve never done anything to indicate I want you trailing me around like a lost pup. And yet here you are.’ He just couldn’t do it. Jaskier hadn’t asked a question. Hadn’t demanded an answer, had just yelled at him for a bit, panting, and left to get himself a drink at the tavern. Geralt had been surprised the bard had returned that night. He had reeked of sex and ale, making Geralt’s nose itch uncomfortably. It had been difficult to fall asleep after that. The woman the bard had chosen had a particularly noxious perfume, and with his heightened senses he could hardly breathe for the rest of the night.

When he had packed up his things that morning, he had not expected Jaskier to stay with him, walking beside Roach like always. They passed through Aedirn into Temeria, heading for Redania.

Geralt had no way to explain to Jaskier what his training had entailed. Young witchers were not supposed to speak out of turn. They were not supposed to speak at all unless spoken to. They should use the minimum number of words to answer any question. If the training master could figure out how to answer with fewer words, you took that many raps as punishment for wasting time. The only time you were allowed to speak first or add words was when negotiating. You needed the skills to get a fair price per the risk of the monster. While adding excessive words was still punished, the training over how to negotiate was far more comfortable.

They continued on together, and while fishing for a meal stumbled upon a djinn. Immediately Jaskier did something completely stupid. While Geralt might not know what it is to have feelings, he fully knows the difference between stupid and not stupid. Deciding to call upon the power of a trapped and angry air-spirit was the definition of stupid. Not to mention he’d seen another side of the usually pleasant bard that day. Wishing apoplexy and painful death and forced love onto others. It had been an oddly uncomfortable chain of events. Geralt would have wished for a meal, which was why they were fishing in the first place. If only Jaskier hadn’t ignored him and had left more slack on the line they would have been eating catfish, not fighting off a djinn amphora.

When Jaskier had suffered horrible damage to his throat as a result of his impetuousness and questionable decision-making skills, Geralt had dragged him onto Roach and pushed both himself and his horse to find help. It had been more or less worthless. Chireadan had not given him the details of what tangling with Yennefer would entail at all. Just as Geralt had found he did not want the bard to lose his voice. It made no sense and made his stomach coil in knots. What should he care? Perhaps it would save him the trouble of having to keep the other man alive as they travelled. He had told the half elf he would sit on a scorpion for Jaskier. And he had meant it, which left him wondering for hours what was wrong with him.

By the time he had reached the sorceress he had managed to figure out why he would do anything for Jaskier: It was his duty as a witcher. He was there to save the people, albeit usually for coin. Although Jaskier did often provide a roof over his head, a warm bath, body heat, and the use of his cloak and bedding. It might not be coin, but it was a creature comfort freely given. A transaction, and he was indebted to the man with the cornflower blue eyes.

When all was said and done in Rinde, the town half destroyed, Geralt had learned something in him that should have been dead wasn’t. After kissing Yennefer he knew he would never want to kiss anyone else the way he wanted to kiss her. Sex with her had been unlike anything he had ever experienced and he would have done anything to do it again. Dangerous for a witcher to want anything other than the meeting of basic needs. He had left Rinde with Jaskier in tow.

It had been easy to ditch the bard in Oxenfurt and take a contract down the Pontar. With winter coming he had no desire to spend the frozen months stranded in the cold and made his way back to Kaedwen and Kaer Morhen just as the first snows began to fall.

He had spent much of his time that winter in meditation, working to quell and destroy any lingering vestigial feelings inside of himself. He had considered cutting out his own tongue rather than risk it betraying him around his companions. The urge to talk, to tell Jaskier things was sometimes so overwhelming he would have, if he had had any idea of how to begin. The problem was that he shouldn’t want to tell Jaskier anything, he should just want him gone. He should not hope that they will meet up again when spring begins to thaw the land and make travel possible. In fact, he should be relieved that he will be only responsible for himself until their paths cross again.

It had been easier to justify his longing to see Yennefer again. Sex was a primal want, and the witcher mutations hadn’t removed those from him. While it wasn’t a need, and his own hand would suffice when necessary, it had been so different with her. He had slept with plenty of whores, but there was something different about not paying. About someone who looked you in the eyes and desired you. No shame, no disgust, no vague reek of fear, nothing to indicate any distaste with the act. Not that many whores minded him, he was polite, he didn’t ask for much, and as such he wasn’t treated too oddly. There were plenty of monsters who looked like normal men, and whores had plenty of experience with those. There were also monsters who were nothing to be afraid of, and the women were well aware Geralt was one of them. No one looking to hurt you would say things like ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’

He stopped in Vengerberg on his way to a contract in Guleta. He’d made his way through Kaedwen trying to decide what to do with himself. Several contracts, little to eat, and a few non-life-threatening injuries had perhaps clouded his judgement and he’d found himself looking up the sorceress. She’d welcomed him with open arms, a hot bath, and several warm meals. Not to mention she had let him share her bed. In that time he’d recovered and moved on to the contract further south. Then, unable to help himself, he’d gone back to her. If pressed for a reason he could not have said why.

She had notified him of contracts she heard of through her own networks, and he had taken them. Sometimes she was able to portal him there, much to his and Roach’s disgust. Neither one of them liked walking through those cold black holes into an abyss. He was usually left to make his own way back, but at least it saved him some time overall. He was also never required to make his way back, either. Sometimes he felt a bit like a housecat, allowed out to wander as it willed and if it came back, all the better. And if not, well, there were other cats.

She did not mind his silences, or his one-word answers and questions. She knew what he was thinking. She could have entire conversations with him without him ever having to open his mouth. Although, she did eventually stop answering him unless he verbalized a response to her. It was easier after a while, sharing books, talking about abusive rulers, that sort of thing. History was easy, too, because he could recite answers to her just like he might have back in his schooling at the temple in Ellander, or at the keep.

While he did not like when she lost her temper at him, he bore it. And eventually grew brave enough to push back. She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever really met before. The first time he’d snapped back he’d expected to find himself deposited in the middle of a frozen wasteland with no memory of how he’d gotten there. It hadn’t happened. They had bickered. He had left of his own free will, which surprised him, and then come back a few hours later feeling calmer. It had just been adrenaline, he told himself, not anger. Witchers couldn’t feel.

He ran into Jaskier on another contract, and was not unhappy to see the other man. They travelled together while he took down a bruxa and then he found himself drawn back to Vengerberg. No magic. His medallion wasn’t so much as twitching. No, he just felt like it would be alright to be there. A place where he had food, a roof, a warm place to sleep, and intellectual stimulation alongside the physical. It was as much a haven as he could have imagined while growing up. While Yennefer lost her temper and threw things around and was horrible at any kind of compromise, she never hit him. She never deliberately sought to hurt him or wound him. It was a strange kind of life. Until finally he moved on.

He faced down Foltest’s daughter and rescued her from being a striga. Afterwards, he recuperated in Ellander in Melitele’s temple until Jaskier came to find him. The bard had heard Geralt was injured and came to see him. It was good to see Jaskier again, and Geralt had found it was slightly easier to talk to the bard. Not as easy as he might like, but sometimes he was able to express a thought or two. Maybe get in a full sentence, and when he couldn’t, if he stared at the bard’s lute long enough Jaskier would sing or play and any need to have a conversation would be swept away by the music.

He had suffered some interesting events in Cintra, but he had six years before he would need to deal with the fallout of that particular incident. It had been nice to see Mousesack again. The druid was not shy of admitting their friendship and it had gotten him out of some miserable scrapes here and there. Not to mention it had stopped Calanthe from having his head decorating a pike on her castle walls. He sometimes wondered what Mousesack got out of their friendship.

He understood with Jaskier that the bard got inspiration for songs, and fame for being ‘trusted’ to travel with a witcher. And he got laid quite a bit for being brave enough to travel around with a monster. Geralt had greatly disliked when they had traveled to Oxenfurt and Jaskier had wanted to introduce Geralt to some of his friends. They had treated him much like they might treat a bear on a chain. A curiosity, a horrible beast trained to perform some tricks, but nothing of any value of its own beyond its strangeness. The bard had seemed mostly oblivious, and Geralt couldn’t fault him. It wasn’t as if he tried to keep up with the conversation or pay much attention. And he had absolutely refused to do any ‘sword tricks’ until they’d mostly given him up as a mute. It had been underwhelming.

The only good part of their time in Oxenfurt had been having access to the library. Geralt had never seen so many books, not since the sacking of the keep. But some of these books had nothing to do with anything important. It was odd to read a book of stories and fables without being asked to look for the truths behind them. He could just sit in a chair, in the library, and read as he pleased. It was somewhat like his time with Yennefer. Calm, peaceful, and given to quiet contemplation. Outside of the occasional drama and fuss. His presence had unsettled and upset some of the students and teachers. For others he had been a source of fascination. They had hounded him, trying to seek answers he couldn’t have given them even if he’d wanted to. With his enhanced hearing he had been well aware of how people thought of the ‘dumb albino witcher’ the bard had acquired. As if Geralt was a possession Jaskier could purchase.

This was perhaps why they had purged witchers of emotions. A normal man would be enraged at such treatment. A normal man would perhaps rise to the challenges, show off his skills and mastery, and would as such find himself swinging from the gallows. Geralt was not a normal man, and Geralt had bitten his tongue, and stayed silent, and crushed himself small. He left Oxenfurt with all of his belongings and his limbs firmly attached.

It was frustrating to be around people who didn’t think he had anything to offer other than brute force. While it wasn’t a new experience, he had gotten somewhat accustomed to Yennefer taking his intelligence for granted. She never over explained things or treated him like a simpleton. Overall Jaskier didn’t either, but at times he put Geralt’s teeth on edge. Finally, one night around the campfire he had snapped, “I’m not stupid.”

Fear had automatically swamped him. Or at least a conditioned fear response. He had frozen; eyes wide with horror that he had said anything out loud. No one had asked him his opinion and speaking out of turn was incredibly stupid. Surely now the bard would give in to the urge to cane him, and he would have to take it, rather than risk angry villagers tying him to a stake and burning him alive. Or hanging him after a solid beating. Perhaps they would draw and quarter him instead? No one would allow him to defend himself and let him escape consequences.

“I know you’re not,” Jaskier had frowned.

Geralt had been confused and lost, this was not how the exchange went. He spoke out of turn, and then he got hurt for it. Sometimes, when he knew the punishment was inevitable or just absolutely worth it, he would dig himself into a deeper hole. This was not one of those times, and he’d sat there by the fire, utterly dumbstruck.

“Why would you think I felt you were stupid?” Jaskier pressed, brows furrowing.

“You talk to me as if I haven’t lived more history than you’ve read,” Geralt tells him flatly, hoping that’s the end of the conversation. It’s the truth, at least. And he had been asked to share his reasoning. So he had. There could be no punishment for that, could there? Besides, the bard wasn’t strong enough to truly hurt him, was he? He wasn’t particularly delicate but he wasn’t strong like Vesemir. Or any of the other training masters. He could take whatever abuse the bard wanted to inflict on him.

“I’m sorry, you just don’t speak much, it’s hard to judge. I know you aren’t stupid, Geralt. I’ve never thought that. Not once. Perhaps a little thick about some specific things, but not in general. You’d be long dead if you weren’t incredibly intelligent. It’s just, when you aren’t responding any, I end up making more noise than I need to so that I can fill up the spaces.”

“Like now?”

“Yes,” Jaskier snorts. “Exactly like now. Can you forgive me?”

“For what?”

“Hurting your feelings?”

“Can’t hurt what isn’t there,” Geralt told him affably. “At least now I know why you make so much fuss over everything.”

“What?”

“To fill up the spaces.”

“Oh, good, I’m glad this is what we’ve come to understand. Not that you should talk more,” Jaskier had laughed. “Or that I wouldn’t mind conversation from you. I like when you add your insight. It’s very…”

“Insightful?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Jaskier had not known what to think when he had met Geralt. The other man had been nothing like what he’d expected a witcher to be. Geralt had chosen to help people when given the chance, often times for a pittance rather than what he should have been owed. When he heard of a contract but people threw stones at him, he frequently waited until nightfall and would consider taking the monster on regardless. It depended on how dangerous it was, and if he thought perhaps making his way back through later would result in a warmer welcome. He had expected a witcher to be devoid of all feeling, nearly inhuman, and while intelligent, intelligent in a predator way rather than a human way.

The more time he spent around the witcher, the more he learned everything he thought he knew about them was wrong. Or at least this particular one didn’t fit the mold. Geralt rarely discussed much of anything with him, unwilling to be drawn into conversations. He could be coaxed into a sentence here or there but seemed to prefer one word answers, no matter how simple they made him seem.

Jaskier hadn’t even known that Geralt could communicate in full sentences until he heard him negotiate a contract.

“Not enough coin.”

“What? That’s a hundred crowns!”

“For a pack of creatures you can’t even identify? You expect me to go out into the dark with no idea what I’m facing for barely enough coin to purchase a room in an inn and a bath?”

“You’re a damn witcher! It’s what you do! The coin should be a bonus, you murderous beasts were made to kill, so kill damnit! The monsters, not us!”

“I hardly see much difference right now,” Jaskier had interjected idly. He had ignored Geralt’s glare but hadn’t bothered to speak up again.

“I kill monsters for pay. If the pay is too low, I walk.”

“We don’t have more to give you!”

Geralt slapped the contract down on the table. “I can read. Here the offer says two hundred. Not one, but two. Double. So I am telling you, you honor the contract, I bring you the corpse as proof, you pay me, and we pretend none of this happened. I won’t stay on, I’ll move to the next town over and you needn’t see me again. Or, you continue to kick up a fuss, I walk away, perhaps someone you care about dies, and you wish you’d paid the fee you advertised.”

“Fine! You fucking bastard!” The man spat at Geralt’s feet.

“I will take half the coin up front, in case you decide to continue your lying streak. You will have, as collateral, my horse and whatever gear I don’t take with me on the hunt. When I get back, you will give me the other half of my pay, and I will collect my property and go. Are we clear?”

“I won’t shake hands with a mutant such as yourself. But aye, damnit, just as you said it will be.”

“I will be staying behind to watch that the witcher’s things don’t mysteriously vanish while he risks his life for an ungrateful pisspot such as yourself. And before you decide to test me, just remember I am quite famous. And many people are very fond of me across many kingdoms. If you think your life is unpleasant now, I can assuredly make it worse.” Jaskier smiled broadly, using a grin he had learned from one of his history teachers at Oxenfurt whenever a student fell asleep in class. That particular teacher had been rather fond of carrying a small riding crop with him for such occasions.

Geralt had been surprisingly sensitive to the moods of others, and initially Jaskier had chalked it up to his heightened senses and training. With more exposure to the witcher, he found it came out of genuine compassion -even if Geralt would insist it absolutely did not because he felt no such thing. He wasn’t capable of it. Which was utter bullshit. He had seen his friend happily entertaining the village children while the bard booked them a room at the inn. Not everyone approved of letting children near such a ‘vicious monster,’ but once they saw Jaskier with him and unharmed it tended to help. Not to mention the fact Jaskier was absolutely unafraid of touching Geralt, touching his things, drinking from his ale cup, or just in general being a horrific nuisance. The witcher always tolerated him with good grace. He had asked about it once.

“Why must you go out of your way to treat me like a pet?”

Jaskier had been utterly shocked Geralt had bothered to initiate a conversation much less speak in more than monosyllables. It had taken him a few minutes to gather his wits. “Think about it, Geralt. If they see me fussing with your hair in a way that clearly aggravates you and you don’t kill me, what are the odds you will kill their children?”

“Hm.”

As they got more used to each other, Jaskier was more able to read his moods and body language and knew when he wanted to ask a question. While sometimes he truly had no idea what Geralt could possibly want to know, he learned several ways of asking a question that allowed Geralt to respond and also ask his own. Frequently, his questions were about emotions and what it was like to have feelings. Usually more framed as an attempt to understand why Jaskier did things the way he did, and not in terms of himself. After all, as Geralt frequently reminded Jaskier, he had no feelings and couldn’t conceptualize them in terms of himself.

Another thing the bard had learned that he hated was Geralt was almost incapable of asking for help. He also wasn’t entirely aware of his own needs. While Geralt knew he had to eat, he also knew he could go several days without food and so when their packs were low he went without. Jaskier honestly hadn’t noticed, which horrified him in ways he couldn’t explain. He had noticed after they had split apart for a while and reunited in Verden. Geralt had been looking gaunt and moving a little more sluggish than usual and it had taken a ridiculous amount of effort for Jaskier to determine the source of the change.

The witcher had been emaciated and coming upon the brink of starvation. Jaskier had badgered him for hours before they had stopped to make camp and Geralt had stripped out of his armor and shirt. His skin had looked stretched across his bones like he was curing it for leather. The next major town they hit on their way to Brugge, Jaskier had spent exorbitant sums on food and a comfortable room for them to stay in while Geralt recovered. He was also learning that Geralt did not sleep properly often and was truly horrible at taking care of himself because he didn’t see a need to.

The bard had been almost tempted to drag Geralt back to Aedirn and Vengerberg to see if the witch would take him back simply because at least he’d been well fed and clean when he’d lived there.

“Don’t you feel hunger?”

“Yes.”

“So why not eat?”

“No coin.”

“I know you can hunt.”

“Too tired.”

“That’s not it, I know you. You can set snares just fine. Or grub up a tuber or some berries.”

“No good hunting.”

“Ah. You mean you worry the peasants you pass would go hungry if you killed a rabbit they might never catch?” Jaskier looked to the sky as if a voice would answer him in place of Geralt’s taciturn silence. “You have to eat, because you have to keep up your health to kill monsters so you can get more coin. When was the last time you bathed somewhere other than a stream or puddle?” The bard had worked more soap into his hands and carefully started washing more muck out of Geralt’s hair. “You wouldn’t ask Roach to carry you without feed for weeks, or grass to crop. She’d die. You also walk her so she doesn’t get worn out or lamed when you’ve ridden her a long ways. You have to take at least half as good care of yourself as you do the damned horse.” He had been somewhat amused to see the witcher falling asleep, apparently enjoying the sensation of fingers massaging his scalp. However, Jaskier’s tirade was far from finished. “Geralt!”

“Shh,” the witcher had rebuked him, closing his eyes, and leaning into the touch. Jaskier hadn’t had the heart to keep pressing him after that. He had instead watched as Geralt fell asleep in the bath, trusting Jaskier to finish cleaning his hair.

While overall he was fairly sure he was unsuccessful teaching Geralt to take better care of himself, he did notice problems earlier on. It was easier to notice when Geralt’s head started to droop just a bit, and to decide he was simply ‘too tired’ to go on and they needed to make camp or stop and eat before going on. He learned different signs for when Geralt was in pain, and how severe it was, and berated him soundly every time he let a wound fester without proper treatment. Occasionally they’d split apart for a few months only to run into each other again and Jaskier would take up dogging Geralt’s footsteps until the vagaries of fate pulled him away. He was always pleased to note, however, that Geralt never looked as bad as he had in Verden.

After Caingorn they had headed west. No real destination in mind. They were well enough supplied that they could afford to travel at a somewhat leisurely pace. Jaskier continued to pester Geralt and occasionally found himself wishing he hadn’t.

“And what would be so bad about all that?”

“A whipping.”

“Ah.” His voice had dried up in his throat. “But… when you were just children?”

“Discipline.”

“A whipping?”

“Children need discipline,” Geralt had repeated.

“I see. Of course. That… that quite makes sense. Of course. How could I be so silly?”

“What?” he’d demanded, deeply unsettled by Jaskier’s odd jabbering.

“I just, no one ever whipped us. Not that I’m aware of. Sure, a switch, or in the case of one professor a riding crop. But, Geralt. A whip?”

“Hard life,” he’d shrugged.

“I know,” Jaskier had said softly, knowing if he apologized Geralt wouldn’t understand. The gesture would be meaningless. Not unlike how Geralt had long since given up on shaking hands to seal contracts and now when people held their hands out he just stared blankly. Without humanity behind things, without feeling, without veracity, it was meaningless.

“What kind of monsters do you think you’d like to run into?”

“None,” Geralt grunted from Roach’s saddle, looking at him oddly.

“Well, then how will you gain enough coin for a hot meal and a nice bath?”

“Don’t need one.”

“Yes, but you like them. I know you. We’ve been friends long enough that I know what you like. I know your favorite meals, I know you like warm baths. I also happen to know how much you do enjoy a kip on an actual bed in a decent inn. Especially after weeks on the road.”

“Unnecessary,” Geralt argued back, uninterested in talking about this further. Jaskier knew if Geralt had wanted to keep talking he would have expanded the conversation some or tried to make some kind of eye contact rather than just bite off the shortest answers possible.

“If you weren’t a witcher, what would you want to be?”

“Can’t want,” Geralt had reminded him.

“Bullshit. Your body wants food, your mind wants rest, your cock wants sex, you know damn well what wanting is.

“Not very poetic,” Geralt had hummed, still refusing to engage. Then he’d eyed Jaskier slyly. “If not bard, what?” seeming almost pleased with his ability to turn the conversation away from himself.

“Oh, a viscount,” Jaskier said breezily, and laughed when Geralt choked in response. “Yes, I’d be Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz de Lettenhove, and I would fall in love with a Duchess and sing songs for her as long as my heart desired.”

“Honest?” Geralt presses, eyeing him oddly and Jaskier knows what he’s really asking.

“You know how to speak in sentences, Geralt. Try it.”

The witcher had snorted at him in disgust, spit on the path and lightly kicked Roach into a faster walk.

“What you’re feeling right now is annoyance!” Jaskier called after him, slipping his lute from his back to his chest so he could walk and play.

Many miles later, Jaskier had slowly convinced Geralt to describe some physical sensations to find out if they matched up to human feelings. He had felt that perhaps if he could draw some parallels it would make Geralt less resistant to being honest with himself. Their conversations were stilted at best, but it fostered a different kind of trust between them, something fragile and new.

“Palms sweat, stomach hurts,” Geralt offered, eyes roving as he tried to think of other symptoms he could register that Jaskier might translate into a feeling. “Headache, sometimes. Nausea?”

“Perhaps spoiled clams?” the bard suggested and then laughed when he saw Geralt huff. “Could be nervous. I know when I’m about to do something I don’t want to do I frequently feel nauseous. Especially when I first started performing. Oh, I would sweat like a pig until I had the audience singing along with me. Or stamping their feet, or just… listening. When I knew they were my audience now, not just a collection of people. Or, when as a boy I knocked over a very expensive vase my mother was fond of. I had to tell her the truth of course, but all the same I wasn’t sure how she would react and my stomach twisted in knots.”

“Did not.”

“Of course not literally, I suppose I could say it like you did, it hurt, I was nauseous. But that’s not very poetic is it? And you seem to think I always have to wax poetical or I’m somehow doing something wrong when I talk. Then you get frustrated I won’t speak plainly for you. So please, Geralt, which would you prefer?”

“Quiet,” the witcher supplies without taking so much as a second to think.

Jaskier knew by now that the little look Geralt gave him out of the corner of his eye was his version of a smile. He still puffed himself up, knowing that was what Geralt wanted. “You asked!” he protests, happy to put on a small show if it will amuse his friend. “You started the conversation! You don’t get to decide to just end it! That’s not how this works! Didn’t they teach you manners at your witcher school?”

“No,” Geralt tells him after a moment’s pause and careful consideration. “Elbows off the table. Please and thank you,” he mimics and Jaskier knows he’s hearing an impression of long dead training masters. Geralt had surprised him many a time with his impersonations. With his enhanced hearing, Geralt was well able to mimic tone and vocal pattern when he felt like it. “Children are to be seen, not heard,” he continues, a small crease between his brows. “Chew with your mouth closed. Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.”

Jaskier isn’t sure if he should smile or not, he can hear the stuffiness in Geralt’s rumbly baritone. The precision of the words spoken in a way Geralt would never say them. He settles on a somewhat bland smile, a little unsettled. “That sounds rather miserable. So you learned table manners, perhaps, but not the very fine rules of conversation.”

Geralt glances at him, and Jaskier hates that he can tell the memories weren’t fond ones or even amusing ones. The witcher lifts a shoulder. “Yen helped some,” he offers.

“I’m sure she did,” Jaskier agrees quietly, rather than make a jibe at the sorceress’ expense. Usually it’s worth it to get Geralt riled up over it, but right now it seems unnecessarily cruel.

“You talk more,” Geralt adds, sensing the bard’s discomfiture and not sure of how to help.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” Jaskier smiles. He lightly squeezes Geralt’s shoulder and brushes his cheek before standing up to stretch. “Are you intending to walk us all the way to Poviss?”

“Contract,” Geralt reminds him firmly.

“So we will walk until we find one, and if it takes us until we cross the mountains and hit the coast, then so be it,” Jaskier sighed.

“Alright?”

“Of course, Geralt. Just tired. We’ve been walking for weeks without so much as a barn in sight. You darting awake at every noise in the night makes it a little hard to sleep.” Jaskier feels his heart break when he sees Geralt’s shoulders round. “I wouldn’t change anything about how we travel. At least not you and I. I would do anything I could to make people treat you kindlier. But, Geralt. I am so glad you’re alert and ready to keep us safe against any danger. I hope you know that.”

Geralt just grunted, curling into his bedroll and turning to look up at the stars above them. Hesitant, and more than a little afraid to ask, he glances over at his friend and licks his lips before opening his mouth and shutting it.

“What?”

The witcher shifts uncomfortably in his bedroll. It isn’t allowed. He isn’t some infant, some juvenile simpleton begging for a scrap of kindness and entertainment. He glances around a bit, trying to find some sort of lie but can’t help himself from staring back up at the stars.

“Oh,” Jaskier says quietly, watching Geralt look away and back up at the sky several times, throat and jaw working as he wrestled with himself. “Well, let me curl in closer, so I can point at them while I talk.”

It’s a simple matter to shift their bedrolls so Jaskier can shift his head onto Geralt’s chest, using him as a pillow. “There, that one, the belt, the Hunter. There’s many stories about him across the continent and he has many different names, but you knew that. Perhaps one day I’ll find a story of the Witcher written in the sky, instead. Who knows?” he keeps his voice in the simple cadence he uses for telling stories. “But, for now, we’ll stick to what is. And I will tell you what my mother told me about how the Hunter found himself immortalized among the stars…”

#geraskier #gerlion #yenralt #yenneralt #jaskier x geralt #lil ot3 as a V here #but mostly just the boys #will write more fic in exchange for comments #in case anyone's wondering

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crimsoncityhq · 5 years ago

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The night has been advertised by multiple commercials in the civilian’s homes, and even dead bodies littered on some residence lawns. It’s dusk on a Thursday in February. The gates to the Fire and Ice Festival are lowered after hours of waiting in the biting Chicago tundra, and the crowd, over 4,000 strong, rushes in. Most are expecting a night of drunken freedom, cozied up by the outdoor heaters that promise a warm welcome, but some foresee the chaos bound to erupt across the lawn.

The first act takes the stage, and anyone who isn’t inebriated, courtesy of the open bar, is perceptive enough to realize that, no, that’s not Kanye West. Instead they are mesmerized by the lyrical lip syncher Dante Yeast—he looks enough like him, it’s better not to question it. One would think that the O’Sheas, Vasiles, and the Fausts all gathered in one spot would spell disaster, yet the evening rolls on without a hitch, despite the tensions slowly building in its periphery. Fausts members, too, are scattered across the ocean of bodies, but some faces are missing, figureheads who pull the strings.

Maybe they’re absorbed by the crowd; maybe they thought better of attending, but there’s a sense of unease that settles in the air. It’s not quite right, but no one can put a finger on why. Another beer, and the thought is lost is the swell of the music—if they didn’t know any better, they’d think the bass replicates the sound of distant explosions.

You’re free to start plotting. You can start posting starters/threads tomorrow, February 20th, 2020 at 7:30PM CST ! Part II coming February 24th ( Plot Slots can be found below the cut ! )

We’re going to allow each person to choose two plot slots for two characters max .If there are any leftovers, we’ll let members know when they can sign up for thirds.

You’ll notice that some of these plots are public, so feel free to have your character react to them/ notice them even if they aren’t happening directly to your character. However, if something feels like it happened privately to another character, please check in with their Mun to see if it’s okay for your character to know.

To be clear: these are not the only things that happen to your character during this plot drop and you are more than welcome to cook up your own trouble.

To sign up for a plot slot message the main! You can start doing that as soon as right now!

CHARACTER A, CHARACTER B, CHARACTER C, are approached by the venue to play as impersonators for the opening act of the show. However, it turns out…they are the show along with other noteworthy impersonators.

CHARACTER D & CHARACTER E end up camped out at the ticket box office on the other side of the lawn seats. They want a refund for the musical event after their cards were erroneously charged the next day on ADAM & EVE. Much to their surprise they come face to face with CHARACTER F( Faust ).

AUTUMN DAWSON is shitfaced prior to arriving at the music festival. They try to crowd surf before the opening act, and would get immediately dropped if NATHAN BURR didn’t catch their fall.

CHARACTER I & CHARACTER J purchased tickets to meet the bands backstage. They are led by the security detail of the event to two tents filled with a scent of gunpowder. Upon further inspection, they find a crate of fireworks. Do what you will.

CHARACTER K jumps on stage to hijack the mic and accidentally falls and breaks their ankle.

CHARACTER L & CHARACTER M are dosed with PCP by a stranger serving up “free” cocktails. Everything is a blur and they both snap back to reality an hour later, but they’re in the middle of an intense fist fight.

EFFIE FAUST & CHARACTER O engage in a mud wrestling contest that is being judged by no one whatsoever.

CHARACTER P & CHARACTER Q make out in a port-o-potty, but realize shortly after they’re locked inside. It’s up to CHARACTER R to either let them out...or tip them over.

CHARACTER S is mistaken as Pat Benatar. ASLI DEMIR drunkenly convinces them to go on stage to sing LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD.

CHARACTER U & CHARACTER V go hard on the alcoholic beverages & psychedelic treats at the start of the festival, by the end of it neither of them know where their shoes or wallets are.

CHARACTER W finds their soulmate in a drunken stupor and grinds on them for the better half of two hours, only to realize the grindee is ZHI ROU, who has been uncomfortably shifting away from them this entire time.

CHARACTER Y breaks all of their glow sticks and covers themselves in the liquid. It’s all fun and games until that shit starts to burn. CHARACTER Z does their best to quench CHARACTER Y with every bottled water they can find.

CHARACTER A1, CHARACTER B1, & CHARACTER C1 are hired security guards for the event. They have no clue who hired them to do it.

INGRID VASILE starts to overdose on COCAINE. LEV VASILE notices their struggle and assists them to the med tent. DOMINIC MURPHY is around the med tent and notices the commotion.

CHARACTER F1 tries to charge their phone using the musical equipment & gets electrocuted. Also it starts to play the most recent song listened to on their phone which is SONG OF THEIR CHOICE.

GRIFFIN DYER is held up at security when they try to enter the venue, because they tried to smuggle in a small animal. CHARACTER H1 isn’t really security and jacks the animal instead.

SERENITY MICHAELS starts to question their sanity when they see a small animal run in circles in front of them and jet off towards the direction of the port-o-potty.

RACHEL BYRNE feels something small and furry scaling the back of their dress, and, assuming it’s someone’s hand, slaps DAHLIA CAVALLI in the mouth before the small animal scurries away and they have to apologize.

CHARACTER L1 chases the small animal and just when they are sure they’ve caught it, the animal bites them on the neck. CHARACTER M1, who is higher than a motherfucker and hallucinating, sees CHARACTER L1 cradling their neck and automatically assumes a vampiric transformation is happening. CHARACTER L1 has to survive the following attack from a stranger with a pocket knife.

CHARACTER N1 is on their fifth drink at the venue. They hear a loud slurping noise, only to find the small animal lapping their beer in hand. Out of surprise they scream which causes the animal to shit on their hand and run away. CHARACTER O1 looks on in amazement, wonder, and terror as CHARACTER N1 wipes their hand on an unknowing CHARACTER P1. CHARACTER O1 is conflicted if they should say anything but takes a Snapchat video of the whole scenario anyway. It goes viral on Tik Tok the following evening.

The small animal finally gets caught by SANTIAGO PEREZ in a battle that lasts 10 minutes. The small animal is then given to CHARACTER R1 whom they assume is the owner.

CHARACTER S1 is lost to the world, and passes out directly in front of CHARACTER T1 that had just spent twenty minutes in line for a cup of water. The cup of water is spilled on top of CHARACTER S1.

NAOMI WASHINGTON & CHARACTER V1 become instant buddies when they chant to the sound of “SHOTS” around the crowd. IRINA KOSHKIN takes this literally and pulls out their gun ready to fire.

CHARACTER X1, CHARACTER Y1, CHARACTER Z1 all show up to the venue wearing the same exact outfit. You have declared them your number 1 enemy for the entirety of the music festival.

CHARACTER A2 is high as fuck and thinks they’re making a flower crown for CHARACTER B2…..except it’s a crown of shrooms instead. CHARACTER B2 wears the crown, but has to swat CHARACTER C2 away who keeps trying to eat them.

CHARACTER D2, CHARACTER E2, CHARACTER F2 suffer from dehydration. They try to find help at the med tent, but they can’t find where it is.

ROSA LEON gets handsy with the bartender at the open bar and leads them away for a quick fuck, allowing RYAN HAYES and CHARACTER I2 to raid the bar freely.

CHARACTER J2 is the aforementioned bartender and realizes a moment too late their station is being cleared out. Instead of returning to their position, they throw on some neon bracelets and join the party.

CHARACTER K2 is doing some sick backflips in the middle of the crowd and are called out by the currently performing act mid-set for drawing attention away from the stage. CHARACTER K2 does another backflip to retaliate, but accidentally kicks CHARACTER L2 in the face.

JESSE VALENCIA hijacks a ELECTRIC BLUE STRATOCASTER from the backstage, and they are not caught.

DAVUT DEMIR feels like they’re being watched and finds a silhouette with a rifle narrowed in on them perched upon a nearby building. They quickly retreat to find OPHELIA O’SHEA and P2 and warn them about the occurrence, who realize there are multiple snipers surrounding the pavilion.

CHARACTER Q2 swears they heard a sound of explosions over the music, being in front nearest to the stage. They grab the microphone and scream, “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE.” CHARACTER R2 & CHARACTER S2 start to openly panic.

CHARACTER T2 (O’Shea) gets into a physical altercation with CHARACTER U2 (Vasile). They don’t stop until one or the other is knocked unconscious.

ANDREA REED & BIRDIE MENDOZA try to leave the event, but notice that they’re trapped in the auditorium. CHARACTER X2 makes it to their vehicle, but is stuck in place by the surrounding vehicles around them. Unable to escape fully, they return back to the venue.

CHARACTER Y2 hates their life at this music venue, because they’re stuck behind a rather sweaty individual. Their sweat keeps hitting them in the face, and at one point, they catch it in their mouth. It incites a ferocious bout of vomiting, and CHARACTER Z2 is trying to help, thinking they’ve been drugged, but CHARACTER Y2 can’t even explain what it is that made them sick.

TATIANA BLANTER is hit with a spare bullet, but no one is able to find where the source is. As no one around seems to have their gun out. CHARACTER B3 conceals their weapon perfectly.

NOVA DEVERAUX suffers a panic attack due to the crowd gathered, and clings onto CLARA DAVILLA who is unable to get them to the med tent.

CHARACTER E3 feels something warm splash on their face. They are unsure if it’s warm beer or urine. They’re pretty sure it’s warm beer, but remain conflicted the rest of the festival. CHARACTER F3 offers the shirt off their back for CHARACTER E3 to wipe the liquid off their face.

CHARACTER G3 is doing photography for the event, but realizes midway through the show that the performers aren’t who they say they are. They spot a face they know to be Faust affiliated in the crowd and scurry off toward the exit, only to be stopped by CHARACTER H3 (Faust) at the door.

MILES ST CLARE is the first to notice the lack of Fausts at the start of the music venue. They make their way to the police station in hopes of figuring it out, but instead they encounter burning police cars and chaos.

#crimson.event #crimson.plot #gang rp #crime rp #mature rp #overdose tw #violence tw #drugs tw

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investmart007 · 6 years ago

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WASHINGTON | Trump: news media wants confrontation, even war, with Russia

New Post has been published on https://is.gd/EkKNQx

WASHINGTON | Trump: news media wants confrontation, even war, with Russia

WASHINGTON — President Donald Trump accused the news media Thursday of trying to provoke a confrontation with Russia that could lead to war, as he continues to push back against criticism of his summit with Russian President Vladimir Putin.

“The Fake News Media wants so badly to see a major confrontation with Russia, even a confrontation that could lead to war,” the president said on Twitter. “They are pushing so recklessly hard and hate the fact that I’ll probably have a good relationship with Putin.

We are doing MUCH better than any other country!” Trump also complained that many news reports about him are “total fiction.”

The media “is going Crazy!” he tweeted.

“They make up stories without any backup, sources or proof. Many of the stories written about me, and the good people surrounding me, are total fiction,” Trump said. “Problem is, when you complain you just give them more publicity. But I’ll complain anyway!”

“The Summit with Russia was a great success, except with the real enemy of the people, the Fake News Media,” he declared.

It marked the start of Day Three of Trump trying to manage the political fallout from his widely criticized performance at the summit meeting with Putin this week in Finland.

Putin, in his first public comments about the summit, told Russian diplomats Thursday that U.S.-Russian relations are “in some ways worse than during the Cold War,” but that the meeting with Trump allowed them to start on “the path to positive change.”

“We will see how things develop further,” Putin said, evoking unnamed “forces” in the U.S. trying to prevent any improvement in relations and “putting narrow party interests above the national interest.”

Trump had toughened his tone about Russia on Wednesday, saying in a CBS News interview that he told the Russian president to his face during Monday’s summit to stay out of America’s elections “and that’s the way it’s going to be.”

That rhetoric marked a turnabout from Trump’s first, upbeat description of the sit-down. Still, Trump backtracked on whether Russia is currently targeting U.S. elections. Asked the question Wednesday, he “no” answer put him sharply at odds with recent public warnings from his own intelligence chief.

Hours later, the White House stepped in to say Trump’s answer wasn’t what it appeared.

The zigzagging laid bare the White House’s search for a path out of trouble that has dogged the administration’s discussions of Russia from the start, but spiraled after Trump’s trip to Helsinki. After days of criticism from Democrats and Republicans, Trump —who celebrates his brash political incorrectness — has appeared more sensitive than usual to outside opprobrium.

The scale of the bipartisan outcry at Trump’s stance toward Putin has only been rivaled by his 2017 waffling over condemning white supremacist demonstrators in Charlottesville, Virginia.

“I let him know we can’t have this,” Trump told CBS News of his conversations with Putin. “We’re not going to have it, and that’s the way it’s going to be.”

Would he hold Putin personally responsible for further election interference? “I would, because he’s in charge of the country.” The CBS interview followed two days of shifting statements by the president.

On Monday, Trump appeared to question the findings of U.S. intelligence agencies that Russia interfered in the 2016 election.

His reservations, expressed 18 months into his presidency and as he stood next to Putin on foreign soil, prompted blistering criticism at home, even from prominent fellow Republicans.

On Tuesday, he delivered a scripted statement to “clarify” — his word — the remarks Monday. He said he misspoke by one word when he said he saw no reason to believe Russia had interfered in the 2016 U.S. election.

On Wednesday, he was asked during a Cabinet meeting if Russia was still targeting the U.S., and answered “no” without elaborating. That came just days after National Intelligence Director Dan Coats sounded an alarm, comparing the cyberthreat today to the way U.S.

officials said before 9/11 that intelligence channels were “blinking red” with warning signs that a terror attack was imminent.

White House press secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders said later Wednesday that Trump actually was saying “no” to answering additional questions — even though he subsequently went on to address Russia.

“The president is wrong,” GOP Sen. Susan Collins of Maine said of Trump’s one-word response. Told that Sanders had since clarified, she responded: “There’s a walk-back of the walk-back of the walk-back of the walk-back? This is dizzying.”

Trump has refined and sharpened his presentation since Helsinki. At the news conference with Putin, he was asked if he would denounce what happened in 2016 and warn Putin never to do it again, and he did not directly answer. Instead, he delivered a rambling response, including demands for investigation of Hillary Clinton’s email server and his description of Putin’s “extremely strong and powerful” denial of meddling.

Trump asserted Wednesday at the White House that no other American president has been as tough on Russia. He cited U.S. sanctions and the expulsion of alleged Russian spies from the U.S., telling reporters that Putin “understands it, and he’s not happy about it.”

The muddied waters have deepened critics’ concerns that Trump is not taking threats to the U.S. electoral system seriously enough.

Pressed on why Trump has repeatedly passed on opportunities to publicly condemn Putin’s actions, Sanders suggested Trump was working to make the most of an “opportunity” for the two leaders to work together on shared interests.

One such opportunity is what Trump termed an “incredible offer” from Putin to allow the U.S. access to Russians accused of election hacking and other interference. In exchange, Putin wants Russian interviews of Americans accused by the Kremlin of unspecified crimes.

Sanders said Trump was still weighing the offer with his team, adding, “We’ve committed to nothing.” Russian officials have said they want to interview Kremlin critics Bill Browder and former U.S. Ambassador to Russia Michael McFaul.

McFaul tweeted Wednesday that he hoped the White House would denounce “this ridiculous request from Putin.” Lawmakers have urged Trump to reject the deal.

“We’re going to make sure that Congress does everything it can to protect this country,” said Sen. Cory Gardner, R-Colo., who heads the party’s campaign arm.

A number of senators are swiftly signing on to a bipartisan bill from Sens. Marco Rubio, R-Fla., and Chris Van Hollen, D-Md., to slap new sanctions on Russia or any other country caught posting ads, running fake news or otherwise interfering with election infrastructure.

Sanders called the legislation “hypothetical” and declined to say whether the president would back it.

Two other lawmakers, Sens. Jeff Flake, R-Ariz., and Chris Coons, D-Del., will try to force a vote Thursday on a resolution backing the intelligence community’s findings that Russia interfered in the 2016 election and must be held accountable. A similar House vote Tuesday failed on a party-line vote.

The Republican chairman of the Senate intelligence committee, Richard Burr of South Carolina, said if Trump doubts that Russia would again try to intervene, “He needs to read the intelligence.”

At the Hudson Institute think tank in Washington last Friday, Coats said, “We are not yet seeing the kind of electoral interference in specific states and voter data bases that we experienced in 2016; however, we fully realize that we are just one click on a keyboard away from a similar situation repeating itself.”

His comments came the same day the Justice Department unveiled an indictment against 12 Russian military intelligence officers for their role in hacking Democratic groups during the 2016 campaign.

By ZEKE MILLER, KEN THOMAS and LISA MASCARO ,Associated Press ___

#even war #news media wants confrontation #President Donald Trump #Russian military intelligence #russian president vladimir putin #Senate intelligence committee #TodayNews #U.S. ambassador #Washington #Washington News

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newstfionline · 8 years ago

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The Founding Fathers Encrypted Secret Messages, Too

By Rachel B. Doyle, The Atlantic, March 30, 2017

Thomas Jefferson is known for a lot of things--writing the Declaration of Independence, founding the University of Virginia, owning hundreds of slaves despite believing in the equality of men--but his place as the “Father of American Cryptography” is not one of them.

As a youth in the Virginia colony, Jefferson encrypted letters to a confidante about the woman he loved. While serving as the third president of the newly formed United States, he tried to institute an impossibly difficult cipher for communications about the Louisiana Purchase. He even designed an intricate mechanical system for coding text that was more than a century ahead of its time.

Cryptography was no parlor game for the idle classes, but a serious business for revolutionary-era statesmen who, like today’s politicians and spies, needed to conduct their business using secure messaging. Codes and ciphers involving rearranged letters, number substitutions, and other now-quaint methods were the WhatsApp, Signal, and PGP keys of the era.

Going into the Revolution, Americans were at a huge disadvantage to the European powers when it came to cryptography, many of which had been using “black chambers”--secret offices where sensitive letters were opened and deciphered by public officials--for centuries. It was not uncommon for the messages of Revolutionary leaders and, later, American diplomats in Europe, to be intercepted and read by their enemies, both at home and abroad.

As a result, early Americans “operated in multiple secret languages during the Revolution,” says Sara Georgini, the series editor of The Papers of John Adams, at the Massachusetts Historical Society. “They didn’t throw away those habits once the new nation got formed.” The Founding Fathers continued to rely on encryption throughout their careers: George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Alexander Hamilton, John Adams, John Jay, and James Madison all made ample use of codes and ciphers to keep their communiqués from falling into the wrong hands.

But no one went as deep into the encryption game as Jefferson. Born in 1743 in Shadwell, Virginia, Jefferson was learning Latin, Greek, and French by the age of 9. He went to the College of William & Mary at 16, to study physics, math, and philosophy, and by early 1764, Jefferson, then 20 years old, was writing letters in code. At first glance, a cryptic letter he sent that year to John Page, a close college classmate, is difficult to parse: It drops Latin phrases in the middle of what sound like emotional ultimatums about an upcoming contractual agreement with some man, whose name is written in Greek characters.

“My fate depends on ad???eß’s present resolutions: by them I must stand or fall,” Jefferson writes. But the Greek characters are in fact an anagram for Rebecca Burwell, a 17-year-old from Yorktown he wanted to marry. Four days later, Jefferson decided that his earlier code was too obvious. “We must fall on some scheme of communicating our thoughts to each other, which shall be totally unintelligible to every one but to ourselves,” he told Page.

Although most encrypted letters were a mixture of cipher and “plaintext,” deciphering them could be a patience-straining process. It was easy to mess up during the encoding or decoding process. Letters using dictionary and book codes--where the writer provided a set of numbers that indicated the page, column, and position where the word they wanted could be found in an agreed-upon book--could become garbled by line-counting errors.

The alternative was having secrets stolen and--then as now--even leaked in an embarrassing scandal. As some of the colonists grew more radical following the Boston Massacre, a cache of private letters by Massachusetts Governor Thomas Hutchinson and his lieutenant were leaked and published in newspapers up and down the Eastern Seaboard. In the letters, Hutchinson said that colonial Americans were owed only a fraction of the rights English citizens could expect. Americans took to the streets to burn effigies of the two men.

On Christmas Day in 1773 none other than Benjamin Franklin copped to being the source of the leak, a sort of colonial Julian Assange. He lost his job as deputy Postmaster General of North America, but things accelerated quickly toward revolution and war, raising the stakes for secret communications even higher. Soon, similarly compromising documents emerged from the offices of colonial governors in New York, Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina--duly stolen and leaked to newspapers.

During the Revolutionary War, American leaders had “an informal and amateur approach to espionage,” says Georgini. Some relied on dictionary codes. George Washington, a code enthusiast himself, used an invisible-ink formula devised by John Jay to communicate with the members of his spy cell, the Culper Ring, in British-controlled New York City. “If deciphered, the British could identify the senders, arrest them, and hang them,” says Alexander Rose, the author of the book Washington’s Spies: The Story of America’s First Spy Ring (now a TV series, Turn: Washington’s Spies).

Even after the war was finished, Washington remained suspicious of sending letters by mail. “By passing through the Post offices [my sentiments] should become known to all the world,” he complained in a 1788 letter to Marquis de Lafayette.

As the newly formed United States entered the world of diplomacy, invisible ink and book codes were no longer going to cut it. Forced to hold its own against sophisticated European players, American cryptography evolved in tandem with U.S. diplomacy, explains Georgini. Its foreign ministers communicated in a riot of different secret methods, and the deluge of codes and ciphers sailing across the Atlantic was a chaotic assemblage of individualized systems. The diplomatic corps in Europe generally relied on variations of the clunky, medieval-era nomenclator system, which saw statesmen lugging around long code lists, where hundreds or thousands of words and syllables--from “a” to “Amsterdam” or “Aaron Burr”--were reassigned as combinations of digits. Still, it is estimated that more than half of all U.S. foreign correspondence ended up in British hands.

Back on U.S. soil, domestic surveillance was still a major concern heading into the 19th century. “The infidelities of the post office and the circumstances of the times are against my writing fully & freely,” Jefferson concluded in 1798, when he was vice president. His concern, says James McClure, the general editor of The Papers of Thomas Jefferson at Princeton, “was the opposition getting a hold of something he wrote: They would put it in the newspapers and use it against him.” But even writing in code was not a failsafe. Jefferson understood that the popular nomenclator system was vulnerable to security breaches; all it took was a code list falling into the enemy’s possession. So he decided to go a step further. “Jefferson got interested in encipherment systems that didn’t rely on lists,” says McClure.

Sometime in the 1790s, Jefferson designed a “wheel cipher,” which was “so far ahead of its time, and so much in the spirit of the later inventions, that it deserves to be classed with them,” writes David Kahn in his seminal cryptography book, The Codebreakers. Jefferson’s device, which included 36 turning wooden wheels with the letters of the alphabet marked on their edges, was remarkably similar to a device the U.S. Army adopted more than a century later, in 1922.

“Had the President recommended his own system to Secretary of State James Madison, he would have endowed his country with a method of secret communication that would almost certainly have withstood any cryptanalytic attack of those days,” Kahn writes. “Instead he appears to have filed and forgotten it.”

Many of the other methods that Jefferson was most enthusiastic about, such as the “perfect cypher,” designed for him by the mathematician Robert Patterson, just never caught on. As with privacy-minded people trying to get their friends to use PGP keys today, sometimes the newfangled inventions felt like too much trouble. Jefferson’s U.S. minister in Paris, Robert Livingston, simply refused to use Patterson’s complicated transposition cipher--where plaintext is reordered and transformed--while negotiating the Louisiana Purchase. Jefferson developed a specialized non-list cipher to be used by Meriwether Lewis for his expedition into the Louisiana territory that hinged on the keywords “antipodes” and “artichoke.” Lewis did not appear to share the president’s enthusiasm, or was just too tired from crossing the continent on boat, foot, and horseback. He never ended up using it.

The best method of keeping encrypted messages completely secure appears to have been losing or destroying the translation key. To this day, scholars are still working to piece together decoded passages in diplomatic letters from the revolutionary generation. “There are at least three codes for which no key has been found,” says McClure.

A couple of years ago, a cryptographer at Princeton finally managed to crack Patterson’s supposedly “indecipherable” code. It turns out, an encoded block of text that Patterson sent to Jefferson in 1801 as an example of an unbreakable code was the Declaration of Independence.

#Thomas Jefferson #founding father and cryptography #cryptography and Jefferson

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actofwarquotes · 8 years ago

Text

T. Carpenter, The Trial of Col. Aaron Burr on an Indictment for Treason, 1807

Page 113: Sir, we are aware that there never has been open deed of war committed by any person or persons whatever, but more especially by the prisoner: and then the Court are told that this is our defense, what are your honors to do between the contending advocates? Must you not say, “satisfy us that the fact has been committed, and then we will do you justice.” But it is in vain for you to say that you will connect this business with the Treason, when you are called upon to prove the facts. Why should we not now hear the facts as to the Treason, and afterwards, those which relate to intention? Now, is there any sort of reason to be given why the prosecutor should be indulged in his belief that he can prove, what he supposes, will amount to an open act of war? Open, I say, because it is to be known—it is to be understood by all men—it is not to be left to a man’s mind—all metamorphoses are to be excluded–all deductions of fine traits of treason are to be excluded. It is to be open to the sense of every man in our land. The same reason will satisfy the poor, the learned and the ignorant, that the act of war has been committed. This is the bound which our Constitution has placed upon the “overt act of levying war.” And if our Constitution has not prescribed its limits within narrower bounds, shall the Attorney be permitted to do it? Now, sir, the officers of justice are herein limited, because the number of treasons shall not be increased; and it is bounded within those limits because they shall not be decreased. They cannot be made fewer, nor more.

Page 206: I have gone through all the points, Sir, that I consider necessarily attached to this subject. There is another point however, which on account of its immense importance, not particularly respecting this case, but all others of this nature that may come before a Court. It is, that before any evidence can be given—(even admitting every one of these points to be against us) towards the connection or participation of Col. Burr in the Treason said to have been committed, the overt act of Treason itself must be proved. And of that the Court must Judge. Upon this ground we fear not to meet the testimony: admitting all that has been said: even admitting the declarations of that unhappy wretch who was brought here to give testimony respecting the transactions on BI’s island, who was so ignorant that he could not even name the month when he was there: and who was so unprincipled as to declare, at one time that arms was leveled at Gen. Tupper, when no one who was present besides knew of such a thing, and when himself even had differently related it. Admitting his testimony, even, to the fullest extent, and that (if the gentlemen please) it proves an act of war, yet this is a solitary witness, and the act and constitution require that there should be two witnesses to produce a conviction in cases of Treason. But if all of it is believed, we seriously declare that no part of the transaction bore the least semblance of war. Why, Sir, there really was a smile on the countenance of every gentleman, except the prosecutor, when they found what slender evidence h had to depend upon to support the charge of levying public war, or any war at all.

Page 209: Chief Justice. When there are distinct propositions, the Court will decide them; but when there is a distinction in the argument only, how can the Court separate them? Now, if I understand the course of the argument advanced, it is continued under four different heads, or reasons: first, that Mr. Burr not being present, he cannot be charged with the Treason, secondly, that under this indictment he cannot be tried, because it is stated to be deficient for specified reasons, thirdly, that the guilt being of a derivative nature, the principal ought first to be convicted; or that a proof of his conviction ought to be in Court before the accessory can be tried. And now he is, fourth, about to required it to be proven that the act charged was “an overt act of levying war against the United States;” and therefore eqnuiers what is levying war. He says before any testimony can be let in to connect him with that crime, it is necessary to prove that there was an overt act of war: which he denies to exist.

Page 210: This is an important dissection.—“It must be avowedly levying war against the United States.” Justice Foster to be sure allows of potential force, but if you examine all his writings, you find that it was his opinion that actual violence must e used before the act of Treason could be said to be committed. Now surely it would be an actual violence, if they were to go to the palace of the King, and order him away, if the force was sufficient to compel his obedience: even though there should be no act of war committed. We shall not find a case in the books that goes farther than this. Vaughan’s case comes the nearest to the prosecutor’s advantage. He had been carrying on war against his country under a foreign commission from a foreign prince (France) in a ship called the Royal Clencarty, but meeting with a ship of superior strength, he struck without battle. Therefore two counts in the indictment: one for levying war against the King; the other for adhering to the King’s enemies. Lord Ch. Just. Holt, on that case says, that marching with arms is levying war, if the act be of a public nature. The Court even doubted how far the sailing with a French commission, or privateering, would support the prosecution since there was no open act of war done, but they depended upon that count which charged him with adhering to the King’s enemies. I shall therefore rely upon the form of the indictment, and think it necessary to be proved that there was an overt, or open act of hostility commenced and carried on. I do not know but I might have gone too far when I considered the indictment vitiated by the omission of the word “public.”

Page 213: Mr. Wickham. We say, Sir, that having proved everything that they can prove, as to what relates to the overt act, that it is not, in itself, an act of war; and therefore, all declarations, or all evidence that relates—even I will say to the quo animo, is inadmissible: for if there be no overt act proved, the proof of intention is not admissible by law. Now, Sir, how can I show that there is no sort of evidence of the overt act, unless I am permitted to state what that evidence is? Mr. Woodbridge states that everything was peaceable and quiet on the island when he was there; (which was the night of their departure) and everyone else says the same. He is asked what passed between him and Mr. Tyler? He says that he would not oppose the constituted authorities of the country, if he should be attacked by authority, but should patiently submit—but if he should be attacked by a mob, who had no powers, he would resist. Mr. Dana perfectly agrees with Mr. Woodbridge. He passed over there and not a word was said to him, or a question asked, though the people did not know who he was. And yet this was the period of the existence of this bloody war!

Page 268: But if, after all, this Court should be of opinion that the prisoner’s presence on the island was necessary to make this an overt act of war, is not this a question for the Jury? The question whether there has been an overt act of war, or not is a mixed question of fact and law: ti is the question made by the issue in this case; it is the very question which the jury are sworn to decide. If, for this objection that presence is a material ingredient in the composition of the act, the court exclude all farther evidence, will this not amount to saying that we have not proved the overt act to the satisfaction of the Court; that the evidence we have introduced, and all we proposed to introduce, will be insufficient to satisfy the Court of the overt act? And will not the Court, hereby, take the place of the Jury; forestall them in the very question which they are sworn to try, and snatch it from them by a coupe de maine?

Page 287: we are brought back to the constitution and act of Congress; and the enquiry is, what is levying war? Gentlemen on the other side speaking on this subject, have very artfully dropped the word ‘levying’ altogether. “Show us your open act of war,” they exclaim; “hard knocks,” says Mr. Lee, “are things we can all feel and understand; where are the hard knocks?” “Where was this bloody battle, this bloody war?” cries Mr. Martin. Nowhere, gentlemen; there was no bloody battle; there was no bloody war. The energy of a despoiled and traduced government prevented that tragical consequence. I reply to all this blustering and clamor for blood and havoc, let me ask calmly and temperately, does our Constitution and act of Congress require them? Can treason be committed by nothing short of actual battle? Mr. Wickham shrinking from a position so bold and indefensible, has said that if there be no actual force, there emus be at least potential force—such as terror and intimidation struck by the treasonable assemblage. We will examine this idea presently. Let us at this moment recur to the constitutional definition of treason, or so much thereof as relates to this case. “Treason against the United States shall consist only in levying war against them;” not in ‘making’ war but in ‘levying’ it. The whole question, then, turns on the meaning of that word, ‘levying.’

Page 305: The first proposition which naturally occurs in the investigation of this subject, relates to the act of war. I say that the acts which are proved to have taken place on Blannerhasset’s island, were not, in themselves, acts of war, and that no proof, whatever, of intention, could make them acts of war.

Page 306: Now, Sir, the proposition on the other side is, that the acts (which have been enumerated) on Blannerhasset’s island, were overt acts of war.—They certainly must be, either against New Orleans, (2500 miles off,) or they must be intended against Wood County in Virginia, I do not know which; for we have never had any evidence to tell us!—Boats, oars, provisions for a long journey, and the descent of the river, are all the materials which the prosecutor can collect to prove an overt act of war! It is probably that the gentleman might calculate upon an overt act of war being meditated against the people of Wood County, because they were provided with such sort of apparatus, as axes, rifles, etc.

But, it is said that the party fled, in consequence of a fear that these people should attack them. Now, I think, that instead of this proving the meditation of an act of war on their part, it proves the contrary. According to this reasoning, if I should run away, to avoid a beating, I am to be considered as guilty of assault and battery. It was upon such suppositions they drew a conclusion.

But, if the act was not against the Western Country it was against New Orleans. And here is Mr. Hay’s definition of treason: “any assemblage of men, convened for the purpose of effecting, by force, a treasonable design, which for is meant to be employed before their dispersion”—is treason. But, Sir, I have collected another definition from the gentleman’s arguments it is this—“any assemblage of three or more persons, without arms, organization, or treasonable thought: and with every mark of peace and patriotism in their hearts: but they have a communication from a fourth person, then 3000 miles off, informing them in terms, not generally understood, of a project, and promising his assistance in it, will constitute an overt act of war, though there be not even the appearance of war in it.”—This monster, Sir, is the common co-partner and child of the three gentlemen on the other side. I have picked up, here and there, as they have scattered them, the limbs, the trunk, and the head; and I have put them together, and will show that it is the genuine offspring of them. I say that an assemblage of three or more persons without arms might constitute a riot, or an unlawful assemblage; but they say that three or more persons meeting, under particular circumstances and with particular intentions, will constitute a levying of war.

Page 308: Now, I will oppose that such a fourth person was on his trial before your honors: he would probably urge, that three person cannot commit war; and that in all the cases put in all the books, no instance has been found in which less than 100 had levied war: he might urge the pages which have been read from Foster and Hale, where it is said, that the number is of no consequence, whether it be 103 or 1000, (an evident proof that 100 is the lowest number expected to levy war)—he might say that in pulling down houses in England, it would require less men, (although 100) than to levy war against the United States. To this perhaps it would be answered, that three men is enough to constitute an assemblage, and therefore, it was enough to make war: and against, that building boats, and fitting them up for a voyage, is enough here to be called warlike preparation. But it might be replied by him, that these boats had no warlike appearance, and these men had no arms—it would be answered, that arms are unnecessary: the assemblage is enough! But, if they had had arms, he might have urged, it was in no wise uncommon in this country for persons to carry arms, where they had the right so to do: he might have produced Tucker’s Blackstone in his favor; and have urged, that a few arms would be necessary for the purpose of killing ducks. But no arms are necessary, the gentleman says, for without them there may be war; and if so without them, what must it be where there were so many. It would not, therefore, be bettering his condition, to prove that they had no arms! It is, then, in vain to say, that one man cannot make war, or that he cannot of himself commit treason, if treason can be wrested out of any transaction. Such an accused person might urge that there was no act of war committed. Ah, in vain would be such a plea, for it would be said, that there was an inevitable evidence of guilt, for they flew secretly and in apprehension, in the night! Nay, this would, of itself, be construed into an act of war! And I am sure, this is the only one that can be found. ……. But, Sir, the prisoner, which I have supposed, would go on to urge that it was acknowledged that Gen. Wilkinson had prevented this civil war, and yet, he would say, “you have charged me in your indictment of having committed an act of war; and an open act of war. I therefore oppose your own declarations to your indictment.” But, say the gentlemen, this was a civil war. Well, Sir, what sort of a war can be treasonable, but a civil war? What sort of magic could be made use of to transform any other war into a treasonable act of war?

Page 311: I hold it as a just position, that a war must have existed, else no person could be charged with the commission of an act of war. In vain might one of us be assailed by the oath of anyone who should swear that we had expressed a guilty intention, if nothing were done towards the execution of a guilty act. And in vain would one be taken up and tried for murder, upon the oath of anyone, if no death and taken place. In vain can one be charged with stealing a horse, upon the oath of another, that he declared his intention to steal it, if no horse were stolen.—The murder is the fact that must be stated and proved, before the accuser can be permitted to go father into other facts.

Page 314: But, of how many men must these “particular bodies” consist? Will three do, or does it require 20 or 30? or must there be a competent number to effect a war against the United States? No, I understand that the traveling of individuals to a place of partial rendezvous, would not be an act of war, because it would not have a warlike appearance; and because it is not a direct marching to the scene of action; but, the “meeting of particular bodies of men” would constitute such an assemblage. Now, I could not understand how it could be made out that three or four unarmed men, marching to a place of rendezvous, would be called war, while a thousand armed men marching to that place of “partial” meeting, would not be considered as guilty of war. ………….. I now come, Sir, to another proposition: which is, that the Supreme Court, whilst they were deliberating on these points, had not the subject before them; and therefore, whatever judgment they gave, it was extrajudicial—or a decision upon a case not necessary to be settled before the Court. It is proper, then, for us to ask, whether this was a case necessary to be settled before the Court? Was it incumbent on the Supreme Court to say, whether that was a warlike assemblage or not? Mr. Hay has admitted, that if it was not a necessary decision, it could not be authority. Now, as there was no question brought before them, the authority must cease, upon the admission of the gentleman himself. How could it be necessary for them to say what constituted a levying war? Could it be necessary for them to say, that force should be used, or that a bar assemblage of men should be considered an act of war upon the depositions of gen. Wilkinson and gen. Eaton? They might have proved that there was, or was not war intended, but surely they proved nothing about any assemblage! the question was not before the Court. Then, Sir, if there was no assemblage proved before the Court, nor any argument used upon it, how could it be necessary that they should enquire into the facts of an assemblage? If the subject had been judicially before them, they were about to do an act that should bind future ages, and affect the lives of thousands. Nay, the very existence of the government itself would have hung on their subject of deliberation. At least then they would have called of the assistance of the bar. And yet, I aver it, from authority, that the question of what constitutes an assemblage was not moved, or debated, at the bar. I now ask your honors, whether you would sit down and deliberately decide upon any supposed question not before you, in a case not called for, nor argued? I ask again, whether, if it had been their (the Supreme Court’s) wishes to have settled so important a point, they would not have wished, and called for the united labors of the bar to assist them? Yes, I will say, that the Court would have pursued that course.

Page 315: I think I may venture another surmise upon a point of so much importance. The doctrine of treason in this country was complicated and undefined in some respects, and no subject of consideration could be more unwelcome to legal minds, for they had not taken it into consideration. [I believe that your honors will accord with me in this point, and I know that I am speaking to your judgment.] The judgment of the Supreme Court was made without a case before them, and therefore, turning over page after page of English books, would illy qualify you to decide on the nature of an overt act of war in this country, where there had been no war committed. Sir, there never has been a case yet in this country, where such a subject has necessarily been taken up; because, there has been no case of treason but where there was war. The cases in Pennsylvania were where there was direct hostility commenced, and therefore, any decision made upon them cannot be applicable to a case where they was no hostility. In England, there are two great classes of treason—the one relates to the mind; the other relates to the actions. The one is compassing the death of the King; and the other is levying war against the realm. And yet, although these treasons are so distinct in their nature and so contrary in their description, even the elementary writers (Hawkins and others) have often confounded cases of compassing the King’s death with cases of levying war, in their defining the nature of treason; and this mixture of cases of a very different nature, which has produced an ubiquity of doctrine, has found its way into our Courts, and proceed error upon error. Thus the Judges in Pennsylvania, and the Judges of the Supreme Court might have been mistaken: and it is impossible to obtain a well matured decision, except there should have been some case or question and argument to aid the decision.

Page 317: I have said that those parts of the opinion of the Supreme Court relied upon, and which do, in express words entrant themselves upon parts of the opinion of the Pennsylvania Court—that those parts are utterly irreconcilable with other parts of the opinion of the Supreme Court. There is a general, and undefined mode of expression, which must support the ideas that I have advanced upon that opinion.—When you speak of an assemblage, you do not define what an assemblage means: you do not say whether it should exhibit a warlike appearance or not. It must, therefore, be controlled by other parts of the opinion which do go to explain. I will barely allude to those parts (at present) which are inconsistent. Judge Chase, Iredell, and yourself, thought that an overt was not an ordinary act, but an extraordinary act—one that could not be done in secret, but that must be done in the face of the world, and which would admit of a number of witnesses. Now, if the crime consisted in intention, or in any sort of an assemblage common to all men, it consequently could not be so denominated. The intention, the assemblage, and the act must be combined. Now the Supreme Court declared that actual force was necessary: the Circuit Court of Pennsylvania, in two instances, declared the same. Mr. Lewis and Mr. Dallas, whose concessions have been quoted upon us, contended for the contrary, but they were met by Mr. Sitgreaves, and Mr. Rawle, who contended that actual force must be used, to constitute the act of war. [I shall presently come to those parts of the opinion of the Court, and the concessions of the counsel, which will prove these facts.]

The act of Congress declares that, to every overt act, there shall be two witnesses—and not merely to any overt act, but to any act of treason—not only the act, but the character of that act. not only prove that a treason has been committed, but prove the identical acts of that treason—not only to prove the act or war, but to prove that it was an act, and that it was an act of war.

Page 318: Again, Sir, both of the gentlemen have admitted that it is necessary to quality the opinion of the Supreme Court. One of them says the opinion was incorrect, because it was said, that if the people dispersed before the object which they had declared, and had in view, was committed, it could not be war. Another objects to it because you say that every unlawful assemblage would not be an act of war. Now, Sir, all that we want of the gentlemen, is, that when they look to particular words in the opinion, they will look to other parts of it, in order to explain the reason why those words were used.

Page 320: Now, as to the indictment. When this jury bring in their verdict, if guilty, it must be in the manner specified in the indictment. The jury must speak jesuistically, or falsely, unless they find everything stated in the indictment to be true: it is necessary that the indictment should state the act of treason from its commencement to its consummation. Any indictment that charges an overt act, and yet omits the circumstances attending that act, would be vicious, and could not be supported. And can all this be mere form? Must it not be proved in matter of substance as well as form? What is the substance, but the acts done? I ask whether a jury can give a verdict upon any indictment that is equivocal in its meaning? I ask whether it is consistent with reason, that an indictment should charge a treason in making preparation for war, and yet not charge an act of war? Need I refer you to precedents, Sir? If you look into any indictment on record, you will find the words “prepared, obtained, and levied war,” etc. All these things are matters of substance and must be proven—it should state that the war was made.

Page 328: Mr. Botts. I will answer the gentleman. I always say and do what I think is right, regardless of consequences. I have no hesitation in declaring that every word I said was correct; but I had no reference whatever to the integrity of that gentleman. I can attribute nothing dishonorable to the gentleman; he contended that the bar act of enlisting soldiers was sufficient to prove the intention; but, if that be the case, what is to become of the opinion of the Supreme Court, so much relied on? That opinion says, that an assemblage should be formed, in order to compose an act of treason. Now, in England, where intention constitutes the crime of treason, anything may be called an overt act: but, where the crime does not consist barely in intention, but of an act of war, there any act cannot be construed to an act of treason.

Again, Mr. Hay has said that the potential force used on Blaunerhasset’s island, might have been brought to operate either in Wood County, or at New Orleans. Now, it could not be bright to operate on Wood, because no act of war was, or could have been intended there; and whatever might have been intended against New Orleans, was yet but intention, which cannot be construed to be an act of war. Potential force then could not make an overt act of war.

Page 333: Before I enter into the investigation of this very abstruse and important subject, perhaps it may be as well to offer a remark or two as to what those gentlemen have said who followed me in my first remark on this subject,—The counsel have clamorously called for us to produce evidence of an open act of war. “Give me,” said one of them, “evidence of an open act of war.” Another asks whether there was, at Blannerhasset’s island, any roaring of cannon, any rattling of small arms, or clashing of swords! Sir, the gentlemen mistake this subject altogether: they are taking ground which, by the Constitution of their country, they are not authorized to stand upon; and using language which the Constitution never put into their mouths. The Constitution says not one single word about an open act of war. I repeat, Sir, that this word is not to be found there. And yet, with as much frequency, with as much earnestness, and with as much zeal as though the book was lying open before him and every person could read it, the gentleman contended for his principle. “Treason against the United States shall consist only in levying war against them, etc.” This is the overt act of which we speak, and what the gentleman has repeated over and over again must be “an open act of war.” But he has further said it must be an open deed: Of what?—Of war—of battle, and blandishing of arms? This is not the language of the Constitution; according to that, a person must be convicted of an overt act of levying war. These words will bear a very different meaning from those expressed by gentlemen on the other side. If so, they are mistaken in the very commencement of their argument. These words are certainly most important words in our Constitution, and merit our attention. Will the gentlemen say there is no difference in the over act of levying war, and the war itself? if the framers of the Constitution had thought proper to make Treason consist in the open act of war, why did they not say so? If they had meant so, then might you justly have said that Treason should consist only in making war against the United States! There is so essential a difference between the two things, that it is impossible they doll have used words in so unusual a light. When forces are prepared for battle, then there is an “overt act of levying war” committed: but, when the battle is fought, or when the parties rush on to battle, then there is truly an open act of war. This explanation is not merely founded in plain common sense, but it is a necessarily obvious construction of the Constitution, and is as distinguishable as is possible from their construction.

Page 334: Now, Sir, what is the thing that the gentlemen concerned for Mr. Burr, are calling upon the Court to do? Why, to deliver an opinion upon a question of fact, before that question has been argued before the Jury! They call upon you to decide whether there has been an overt act of war committed, or not! and they contend that you are authorized to decide upon that question.

Suppose it should be the opinion of the Court that an overt act of war has been committed, and the Trial should go on and all that evidence which it is their object to exclude, tending to confirm the facts which have been laid before the Jury. I ask whether this Court, knowing that it is not their promise to answer questions of fact, would be willing to give such an opinion to the Jury? The gentlemen will excuse me when I say that they manifest some degree of inconsistency on this subject: they call upon this Court to do what no Court ever did, from the creation to the present time, undertake to decide—to decide upon facts, and which alone can be referred to the consideration of a jury.

Page 384: Here Mr. Martin referred to the cases of Bentwood, and Damarree and Purchase, 8 St. Tr. 218—to show that there must be the overt act of war specified in the indictment, or else, that the charge was for compassing the king’s death. What was the charge in the latter case? It was for pulling down conventicles or meeting houses.

Page 395: What then, Sir, is levying war? That is the question; they say that levying war is levying war! not making war: but it consists in levying troops, in enlisting soldiers, and in preparing for something or other which they may suppose to be like war. I should rather suppose (from the temper and caution with which our Convention progressed through every measure of it,) that they wished to secure to the citizens every right which impartiality could demand. That, if they had meant by “levying war,” enlisting soldiers, or even raising an army, they would have used those terms. The intent for levying that army might have even been declared; but if they stop there, they do not levy war, even if they declare it is with an intent to subvert the government. Levying an army is a preparatory step towards levying war, if that is their object; but a man may levy an army without levying war; that is, he cannot levy war without levying an army first. thus, these are two distinct things; the one must be a preparatory step towards the other. That is, you may levy troops with an intention to levy war; but the preparatory act cannot be the treason, because the treason consists in levying war. In whatever sense, or from whatever authority we may draw our descriptions, it will always appear that levying war is making war: it is an act of war; and it is entirely immaterial which word is used.

Page 396: The decision in Vaughan’s case cannot in any way be considered as conclusive. He had adhered to the king’s enemies, and sailed in the ship Clencarthy, for the purpose of capturing British vessels: he was desirous of taking one ship, but finding it was too strong for him, he did not make the attempt. It was not attempted to prove this an act of war, however; but an act of adhering to the king’s enemies. Foster, 218, makes a distinction between bellum levatum and bellum precussum, as will be seen by the reference and argument. he says, however, that enlisting and marching are sufficient overt acts, without coming to action. If he means an overt act of war, I will venture to say that he is unsupported by a single case: if he means an overt act of compassing the king’s death, there may be many such. This shows us the necessity of forming a proper distinction in such cases. This, however, refers to Vaughan’s case; where the acceptance of a commission from a king, who was the enemy of his lawful sovereign, was one of the acts of treason. The same would respect writing a letter to the king’s enemy, giving him information.—Foster, 220; 1 East, 78. Did the Court, in this instance require that “he, with certain other persons that were with him,” did levy war? No, Sir, because the very indictment specified the acts that he had done: he was considered as having levied war against the king, by adhering to his enemies.

Page 400: I shall now make some few observations which relate to the great Constitutional question, whether persons who would, in Great Britain, be merely accessorial agents, can be guilty of levying war in the meaning of the Constitution of the United States, and thereby be guilty of treason. And here let me observe, as to the argument, that the person who would be most guilty of the crime of treason, might pass unpunished. Sir, the question is not, whether a person counseling or commanding treason be done, is guilty of the crime or not? the simple question is, whether he is guilty of the crime of treason or not? Nor person would say, that he who procures another to do the crime of treason, should pass with impunity. It is not contended, that crimes which would, if completed, amount to levying war, should be permitted to go on without restrain. Persons who advise others to commit a crime, are liable to be punished by the laws of the country. But nothing that may be denominated coming towards levying war, can be denominated an act of war; and nothing is treason but acts of war, and done with a view to change the government of the United States. Every person is criminal that is making preparations for such a purpose; and government, whoever they have good reason to believe that preparations are making for such a purpose, have an undoubted right to make use of the force of the country, so far as the laws will hold them out, to suppress, and put an end to any such measures. The question, therefore, is not, whether government is to look on and see all the preparations made and completed, which is intended for its own destruction, until it is brought to such a pitch that the blow may be struck successfully? No, Sir, government has a right to prevent its being brought into that situation which may be denominated levying war.

Page 445: It has been thought proper to discuss this question at large, and to review the opinion of the Supreme Court; although this Court would be more disposed to leave the question of fact, whether an overt act of levying war was committed on Blannerhasset’s island, to the Jury, under this explanation of the law, and to instruct them, that unless the assemblage on Blannerhasset’s island, was an assemblage in force, was military assemblage in a condition to make war; it was not a levying of war, and that they could not construe it into an act of war, than to arrest the farther testimony which might be offered to connect the prisoner with that assemblage, or to prove the intention of those who assembled together at that place. This point, however, is not to be understood as decided. It will, perhaps, constitute an essential enquiry in another case.

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