#jimmy is useless in the trials

[saccharineheartx]

Mouthwashing x Outlast Trials AU

[toutallyahoe]

━ hebrews 9:22 ,, mouthwashing

requested by: –

pairing(s): curly x male reader

word count: 1856

warnings: canon spoilers, cursing, character death(s), attempted murder, murder, deaths oh my god so many deaths help, j*mmy (ew 🤮)

a/n: yeah, im surprised it aint porn too

"Indeed, under the law almost everything is purified with blood..."

Pained laboured breaths left what was once a hopeful man's lips. Well, hopeful was far from what he had become over the years, crippled by the trials and tribulations of what life had put onto him— yet he persevered despite the doubts that ate him whole. Curly persevered despite it all...

But does he still want that?

Laying in the Medical Room's bed without any control of his own body— burnt body— without feeling any sort of pain that he wished he would just die was difficult. Even breathing was difficult but he was forced to do so. Forced to endure. But Curly wanted to die. More than he had wished in the past... but he can't. Forced to lay in bed, feeling helpless as he watched his crew... his friends... descend into madness.

If he could cry, Curly would. The pain of his entire body doesn't hurt as much as the pain and guilt in his chest. Well, Curly thinks so. He doesn't know if the pain in his chest is the guilt of eating him or just the normal pain of being burnt alive to the point his skin is gone. But Curly still felt sick and hopeless. So despaired by it all. Because despite being forced to lay in bed and watch helplessly as everyone descended into madness, Curly knew it was his fault. And it eats him up.

Anya had already said her good bye after she locked herself in the Medical Room with him. Saying how despite everything he had done (or lack there of), she forgave him. Curly tried to talk, to reach out but all it came was garbled mess of croaks and pained wheezes as his throat hurts from the pain. Curly had to watch helplessly as she finally decided to escape the nightmare that came to the Tuplar crew of the Pony Express... to them.

The pain in his chest worsened as Curly could hear a pained screaming echoing throughout the room and it took a second for him to realize who the screamer was. But once Curly realized, his heart dropped as he wanted to cry more. Daisuke showed up in his peripheral vision, looking worse for wear since he had last seen the younger man. Curly wants to cry harder seeing Daisuke all bloodied and hurt, with so many cuts and gashes as Curly realized that in order for Daisuke to come inside the Medical Room despite Anya locking it, it was through the vents that were connected to the Utility Room. The same vents Curly knew was dangerous... fuck.

Curly had believed in the past he was a good captain. The crew in Tuplar sang his praises after all to the point Jimmy always mentions how annoying it was. Curly would have brushed it off like all the times but he knew deep inside he did feel a sense of fulfillment to be called that. A good captain. Because it made him feel like he was actually doing something worthwhile with his life.

But he doesn't believe that anymore.

How can he? Failing Anya despite the trust she placed on him to confess what his friend— what Jimmy had done to her? Where did she have to take things in her own hands? Failing Daisuke from Jimmy's manipulation that the poor young man is now crying from the pain of his injuries as well as he was screaming at Anya to wake up? Failing Swansea where he had to watch the older man lose himself to the little bits of alcohol in the Dragon's Breath mouthwash they were delivering? And worst yet... failing you as he watches the happy man descend into despair along with the crew.

Curly felt useless as he laid there motionless and despaired in bed. He can hear Swansea cursing out as he and Jimmy dragging out Daisuke who was moaning and groaning in pain. He didn't hear Anya anymore... will never hear her voice ever again.

It all was a blur. Time passed by so quickly... not that Curly knows how long it had been. The pain made it hard to focus on his surroundings but he saw someone standing in front of the medical bed. Curly let out a pained croak when he saw it was you. The one who used to be a picture image of a calm and collected crew member of his who had bright eyes that looked at him with love and respect looked frantic yet oh so tired as your dull eyes are red and puffy from crying, tear stains on your sunken cheeks. Lips quivering as you looked down at Curly. There was panic and mania in your eyes. Curly dreaded it.

"Let's rest now," You said, your tone shaky and raspy. You bite your bottom lip to stop your lips from quivering until you tasted blood that grounded you a little bit. "We can rest now, right?" You asked as tears brimmed your vision on what you were about to do. You looked at Curly and gave a smile. A smile that Curly knew was far from genuine. It didn't reach your eyes. Not the same sweet smile you would send him when you two would wake up early in the morning, in bed together. Far from the one Curly is used too. It looks despaired, haunting...

Curly tried to talk, to reach out. But just like Anya, he failed. Like he always does.

"!!!"

Curly wanted to cry when he felt your hands wrapped around his throat. He wheezes in pain as his body thrashes automatically when you squeezed. It hurts! It hurts— but let him die! There were salty tears falling down his bandaged cheek, stinging him as he could see you finally breakdown. Losing it all.

"We can go together! Everyone is gone so let's go together like you said!" You said as a deranged laugh left your lips. "Aren't we in this together, captain? We can rest!" You put more pressure down Curly's throat.

"Please, just stop suffering already!" You wailed as your entire body was shaking. You desperately tried to tune out Curly's pained noises and thrashing as you sobbed. You didn't want to do this— but you had too. No one else was going to put Curly out of his misery. No one is giving your poor captain mercy.

Anya already died, her rotting corpse was beside you, slumped over the floor. Daisuke had his head split open by an axe by Swansea. You were there to witness Swansea put down the young man. You already knew Swansea was dead somewhere around the ship. Especially when you had heard two loud gun shots rang out eerily inside the Tulpar— Jimmy was fucking insane! You knew that oh too well as you watched that monster descend to madness.

You knew you only had so little time to do what you needed to do. To finally put Curly out of his misery because you knew Jimmy wouldn't. You can accept whatever responsibility is left when Curly is gone. Whether Jimmy kills you with a gun or you having time to get the axe and kill Jimmy yourself... it'll be fine as long as you take Curly out of his misery first. Because Curly deserves it.

"Please wait for me," You cried as you looked at Curly through your tears. "I'll be close behind, okay?" You say as you smiled. The blood from your bruised bottom lip stuck to your teeth as you smiled. You look deranged but Curly could only admire you. He wanted this. He wanted to die— to have the suffering end already. Curly just wished it didn't have to be you to put him down knowing how much you loved him.

"I love you," Curly heard you sobbed as black spots formed in his vision. Curly already had trouble breathing after the crash but he can barely gasp for air, not with your hands on his throat, trying so hard to kill him. Slowly, Curly's body stopped thrashing, too weak as the black spots continued on to fill his vision. He can barely see your broken face now.

He was going to die. Curly was going to die... and that's fine.

Curly just hoped you won't suffer painfully before you both are reunited once again in the after life. Hah, when did he even believe in an after life? Curly lost hope of a god existing so many years ago. But if there was a god, Curly hoped they would be kind enough to let him see you again after this. To see the others too. But mostly... Curly just wants to see you—

Bang

Thud

Curly let out a painful gasp as his lungs burned while greedily took a lot of air to fill it back up. His throat hurts so much. If he could tear up, Curly knows he would with his one singular eye left from the pain. Everything hurts. Fuck. It hurts...

Wait.

Pain... was pain part of death? Living was painful and Curly thought death would be more welcoming. Curly would have thought it would be peaceful like when the air was deprived from his lungs as you strangled him. When Curly knew he was dying as his vision darkened. You— where were you? Why was Curly's head ringing so loudly? Was... was he still alive?

Why... why was he still alive?

Why?

Why?

Why?!?

Didn't you promise to take him out of his misery? Was it all a lie? But the pain— the pain in his throat was real! Curly swore it! Where were you? Where were you?!? What happened?!?

Curly found his answer when he saw a shadowy figure where you once stood. Where you should be. And seeing the face of the figure, Curly wanted to cry and scream. Wanted to yell until his throat was raw and burned. Curly wanted to thrash his burnt body and cry.

But he can't. Curly can't...

"It's okay, I saved you," Curly heard Jimmy say. Curly wanted to bitterly laugh at his words. Jimmy didn't save him. Far from it. Jimmy depraved him from his peace! What more can Jimmy take away from him?!? Where were you?!?

Curly could only let the man whom he used to call a friend carry him without much of a fight as he was tired and still processing what everything just happened, wondering where you should have been. Did you chicken out on killing him? Was your love for him too much to kill him? Then where were you then?

Curly looked at Jimmy with dull eyes as he was carried away from the Medical Room. You were nowhere in sight— until Curly saw you... dead on the ground with a puddle of blood around your head... no. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO—

"Don't worry, Curly. I'll fix this..."

"And without the shedding of blood... there is no forgiveness of sin..."

[brn1029]

On this date in music. Leaning heavily toward Classic Rock…

April 12th

2016 - Led Zeppelin

A US court ruled that Led Zeppelin founders Robert Plant and Jimmy Page must face trial in a copyright row over the song 'Stairway to Heaven'. The copyright infringement action had been brought by Michael Skidmore, a trustee for the late Spirit guitarist Randy Wolfe, who played on the same bill as Led Zeppelin in the 1960s, and claimed he should be given a writing credit on the track.

2000 - Metallica

Metallica filed a suit against Napster, Yale University, The University of Southern California and Indiana University for copyright infringement.

1990 - The Beatles

The Astronomical Union's Minor Planet Centre announced that Asteroids 4147-4150, would be named Lennon, McCartney, Harrison and Starr after the four members of The Beatles.

1975 - David Bowie

During an interview with Playboy Magazine David Bowie announced his second career retirement, saying, 'I've rocked my roll. It's a boring dead end, there will be no more rock 'n' roll records from me. The last thing I want to be is some useless f—ing rock singer.'

1969 - 5th Dimension

The 5th Dimension started a six week run at No.1 on the US singles chart with 'Aquarius / Let The Sunshine In', a No.11 hit in the UK.

1968 - Pink Floyd

Pink Floyd released their fourth UK single 'It Would Be So Nice', written by Richard Wright with Roger Waters' 'Julia Dream' on the B-side. Pink Floyd were on tour in Europe on this day, and played their second night at the Piper Club, in Rome, Italy.

1967 - Mick Jagger

Mick Jagger was punched in the face by an airport official during a row at Le Bourget Airport in France. Jagger lost his temper after The Rolling Stones were being searched for drugs resulting in them missing their flight.

1966 - Jan Berry

Jan Berry (Jan and Dean) was almost killed when he crashed his car into a parked truck a short distance from Dead Man's Curve in Los Angeles. Berry was partially paralysed and suffered brain damage. Berry was able to walk again after extensive therapy.

1963 - Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan performed his first major solo concert at the Town Hall in New York City. Dylan played a 24 song set including 'Blowin' In The Wind', 'A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall', 'Highway 51' and 'Last Thoughts On Woody Guthrie'.

1957 - Lonnie Donegan

The 'King of Skiffle' Lonnie Donegan was at No.1 on the UK singles chart with 'Cumberland Gap.' The Scottish musician was a former member of Chris Barber's Jazz Band.

1954 - Bill Haley

Bill Haley recorded 'Rock Around the Clock' at Pythian Temple studios in New York City. Considered by many to be the song that put rock and roll on the map around the world. The song was used over the opening titles for the film 'Blackboard Jungle', and went on to be a world-wide No.1 and the biggest selling pop single with sales over 25 million. Written by Max C. Freedman and James E. Myers, 'Rock Around The Clock' was first recorded by Italian-American band Sonny Dae and His Knights.

[childofaura]

I finally got to watch the Trollhunters movie...

And it was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. Waited to watch it so I could watch it with my friend, and good thing too because boy, we were screaming.

Spoilers under the cut, with my criticisms:

So the only pros I could really say we had:

1. Strickler and Nomura were back.

2. The animation was pretty cool.

And that’s it. That’s pretty much the only thing I can think of that was positive about this film.

Nnnnow, we’ve got the criticisms:

1. Nomura and Strickler’s deaths. Holy hello, can you say “cheap-shot deaths”? Also you’d have thought that Nomura would have died earlier given that they were at the top of the Titan with no cover. Couldn’t they make armor, or something? Either way my queen didn’t deserve that death.

2. Needless conflict for Jim feeling like he’s not fit to be the Trollhunter anymore; literally everyone felt like they couldn’t stop the incantation unless Jim’s amulet was working?

3. Steve was reduced to the shallowest character I could imagine. Also... the pregnancy thing? Really? Were they trying to top off Jimmy Neutron in most awkward alien pregnancy? And I guarantee that joke wouldn’t fly if the genders were reversed, but apparently teen pregnancy’s a funny joke when it’s a guy :/ (inb4 people say “it’s just a joke”: Yes I know. But like I said, reverse the genders and I know people would throw a shitfit).

4. The cat-dragon (I can’t be bothered to remember his name, I’m sorry) did not even feel like a sacrifice. You’re telling me the Chinese trolls can’t just make another horngazel? Speaking of which, the horngazel just... breaks? No rhyme or reason to it, a thing that has never had durability issues breaks so we can have story-driven conflict.

5. Everything about Tobes’ death. This series has spent so much time minimizing Tobey being Jim’s friend in favor of giving Jim more screen time with Claire, so much that it feels like they saw Tobey as enough of a lesser character that it was safer to kill him off. His death felt more insulting than honorable.

6. The whole plot in general just felt... underwhelming. You give the sorcerers (I refuse to call them gods, they couldn’t do jack shit unless they have something to boost their powers) these crazy time-traveling relics, something that could... I dunno... be used to pull back villains from the past (Bullar, Gunmar, Zeron Brotherhood, Morando, King Arthur, etc), liven up the antagonist cast a bit, and all it’s really used for is making big Titans that through a really crappy plot twist can destroy the world.

7. People will hate me for this, and it’s fine, I don’t care: Everything involving Claire. This is all my subjective opinion so if you don’t feel this way, that’s totally okay, but: Claire is the most shallow two-dimensional female character in the show whose only drive is just Jim. And it just gets worse through the series. She’s supposed to be the “wahmen empowerment” character that female viewers are supposed to connect with, but I’ve only ever hated her. The movie (And the series in general but let’s focus on the movie) makes her unbelievably powerful when plot demands it, useless when it’s needed, and motivated by absolutely no one else but Jim. Literally nothing can hinder her or make her suffer consequences; Make a giant portal despite being “spent”? Oh she just faints for like five minutes and she’s awake and perfectly fine just in time for the plot. Going to the Chinese Troll Market without bringing a weapon? That’s okay, she can just disarm a guard and use a weapon literally physically impossible for her to wield due to the weight difference, and something she’s never had training with.

Let me just say we were absolutely cheated to have not gotten Book Claire. We could have had a Scottish descendant of a warrior race who actually has standards, but instead we get someone unworthy shoe-horned into the role who was made more important than she really should have been.

8. That whole ending, like... what? The point of the amulet is that it’s supposed to have chosen the one it thought was the most worthy. I get that in the fake time-travel episode of Season 2, if Jim hadn’t accepted it, it would have gone to someone else, but there’s no way it would have just automatically switched to Tobey. And what is that supposed to mean, now? Isn’t that just gonna fuck up Jim’s relationships with everyone? Blinky won’t be his mentor and therefore won’t become the surrogate father figure, Strickler won’t go through his trials with Jim because he’s not the one he has eyes on as a target and therefore won’t bond, Draal will no longer be Jim’s brother-in-arms... did they get a greenlight to make a what-if season or is this the end, and it’s supposed to be left up to our interpretation? And how is THAT supposed to save Tobey?

9. Also an added note: Naari’s death had no impact. You killed a character whose build-up to the main cast was all done off-screen between seasons. Did I like Naari? I did, she was cute and well-designed and I liked that she was so fond of Douxie. Did I feel sad when she died? Not really. Also, what the hell was with the inconsistencies of the Titans and the sorcerers? They didn’t explain if they could only be felled by each other or not, you’d think the bombs would have hurt the ice guy when they exploded, but the golem just re-creates itself again; but suddenly Naari stabs him and THAT hurts?

This whole thing was a mess. My other friend was right, I can see why this movie made people mad.

[touchstarvedsam]

Can I ask why you don’t like castiel?

WELL.

In theory, he was an interesting character, and then he overstayed his welcome, became more useless than I could deal with, and betrayed Sam and Dean more times than I even want to talk about. Had he stayed for the initial extent of his usefulness, he wouldn’t have been bad. Just a regular dick with wings that showed up with a mission, completed said mission, and then dipped like he was supposed to. But nah.

Instead, he stayed.

He let Sam out of the panic room, which Sam and Dean still don’t know about, by the way, so Sam is still the only person blamed for the apocalypse when Castiel is the real fault. So that right there is strike one. He continued on letting everyone think that Sam is the reason -- that Sam should take all the blame -- for everything that went wrong with Lucifer rising. Even to this day, that terrible coward still hasn’t come clean and still pretends to be their friend. He let Sam hate himself for all these years when, had he not let Sam out of the panic room, it never would have happened. If Dean found out? Even now? If Dean found out this season, he would never forgive Castiel. Ever.

Strike two was, you know, the entirety of season six. He pulled Sam out of the cage then just left him. He left him! Just let him go on like nothing happened. Didn’t check on him, didn’t make sure he was okay. Yanked him out of hell, soulless, and peaced the fuck out. I think he even knew Sam was soulless, and the whole soul-fisting thing to figure out “what’s wrong with Sam” was just a ploy. Also because he’s a dick.

So besides the whole soulless thing, when there’s clearly something wrong with Sam, he completely denies that he knows anything about Sam’s rescue from perdition, and just continuously lies to Sam and Dean.

He spends the whole season sneaking around with Crowley, spying on Sam, Dean, and Bobby, pretending to burn Crowley’s human remains to look like he’s on their side, like, come on.

Then he killed Dr. Visyak for her blood to open Purgatory, broke the wall in Sam’s head for his own selfish gain, nearly fucking killing Sam in the process. Betrayed Crowley and took in all the souls of Purgatory and became this horrific killing machine that didn’t care about a single human being. He slaughtered countless humans because they weren’t what he wanted them to be. He killed countless angels, which, I never cared about the angels anyway but STILL.

He killed Balthazar for helping Sam and Dean find him.

Also, let me backtrack a second. Jimmy Novak. He murdered Jimmy. Ruined the whole Novak family. Destroyed Claire. And it took him like four whole seasons to feel bad! It took Hannah, my favorite angel who is literally an angel, feeling bad for Caroline and Caroline’s husband to realize that taking a vessel hurts the humans. Hannah gave him a conscience. It just took too damn long.

Then, leaving Dean in Purgatory. I literally don’t care that he said it was to protect Dean; Dean was a human in a world of monsters he hunted, monsters he’s definitely killed. Didn’t even say, “if we stay together, you’ll get hurt,” just fucking disappeared. He didn’t think for a second, “hey, this is a hunter in here with me... maybe he would be in just as much danger as I am,” nope, just up and left.

Trusting Metatron??? Being a dumb fucking asshole???? Wanting Sam to continue the trials despite learning that it might kill him????? Because fuck Sam Winchester, am I right?

How far do you want me to go here? He’s not a good character. He’s not a good person. He didn’t warn Sam and Dean that Jack was an almost entirely soulless ticking time bomb. Then he made Dean think that Dean was in the wrong for being upset about Jack killing Mary. And then Dean apologized to him? When he never once deserved an apology. Dean apologized to motherfucking Castiel who didn’t deserve one... but he never fucking apologized to Sam for all the shit he’s done wrong to Sam. How fucked is that?

Castiel should have stayed dead ANY of the multiple times he has died. Preferably back in season 5 when Lucifer killed him. Fucking Chuck always bringing back the useless angels.

I could probably rant about my hatred for him more, but this post is already long enough. My hatred for his actor, on the other hand... that would have to be a whole other post.

[jadekitty777]

It’s done. It’s done! HOLY SHIT IT’S DONE. Two months later and I finally complete this monster of a tale. I can’t believe the effort this baby took that, once upon a time, was supposed to be a oneshot.  Gosh, I hope for those reading the wait was worth it - I for one am so relieved to complete this!

(Still) Day 8: Free Day for @taiqrowweek

Rating:  T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 16k - yes, 16,000 words

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: ...On Your Every Word

~

Between the hecticness of getting checked in, shown to a private room where Qrow was allowed to be uncuffed and dress in more ‘court appropriate’ attire, and then meeting up with Rhodes for one final run down – the next hour pretty much passed in a blur.

Before he knew it, he was walking into the massive conference room in which the UFK did all their business. The room was mostly taken up by tiered, half-circled seating so that the four kingdoms could face one another as they talked politics. But the rest of the room was left open, allowing for a “stage” in which prototypes of innovations could be placed or guest speakers could stand. This area had been transformed – at the far ends were two desks for the defense and prosecution to sit at and a single chair in the center for the testimony portion. There were a few reporters standing near the entrance so they could capture every second of the trial, but no gallery for an audience. Qrow wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

He took the seat beside Rhodes at the defense table, clasping his hands in front of him to hide their shaking. He was certain his scent was giving him away anyways.

The prosecution came in next. The tall, sharply dressed beta strutted in with a smirk and an aura of arrogance, like he’d already won before proceeding had even begun. Qrow had heard bits and pieces about Arthur Watts – apparently, Pietro and he had a long-standing rivalry in the courtroom, though the elder man didn’t go much into it. What he had gathered was the lawyer was sharp on his feet and merciless. He could change tactics faster than a snake bite and the only defense who’d ever been able to keep up with his quick wit was Pietro himself.

“Gentlemen.” Watts greeted them, snide in just one word. Qrow was already annoyed.

The questioning portion was going to go great.

Finally, the entirety of the UFK filed in, taking their seats in their respective portions of the stands. Over thirty people in all, there were many faces Qrow recognized and even more he didn’t. Yet, the four that took the only seats in the front row, the heads of the councils, needed no introduction. First was the jovial and high-spirited Theodore, the representative of Vacuo, who’d held his position so long because the votes always ended in a landslide on his favor. Beside him was James Ironwood, holding two seats on the Atlas council and, as a medaled general of the military, had helped to fund some of the most prolific technological advancements of their age. Next sat Leonardo Lionheart of Mistral, a man who’d spent his many years in term building up the educational needs of his people, and had the average-high tests scores to prove that focus had paid off. Lastly, was Ozpin, who was the youngest head of Vale’s council ever to be inaugurated into office and since that induction, had been pushing forward as many progressive policy changes as he could.

These were the four Qrow would have to plead his case to and hope he drummed up enough sympathy for them to pardon him.

From the way they looked down upon him, eyes seeming to judge the very way he breathed, it never felt more impossible.

“If we’re all in order, I believe we may get started.” Ozpin was the one to speak up and though his voice was something Qrow recognized easily, there was something so uncanny hearing him in person, rather than on the radio or TV. “Though it’s a tad untraditional, Theo, James, Leo and I will all be your acting judges for this trial. Each one of us can sustain and abstain a motion and we will move this trial along if any filibustering starts up. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your honor.” Pietro replied, echoed by Watts.

“Good. Are the defense and prosecution ready?”

“We are your honor.”

Ozpin nodded. “Then, the trial of Qrow Branwen v. the Four Kingdoms has officially begun. The prosecution may begin their opening statement.”

Qrow took a deep breath as he watched the opposing lawyer get to his feet.

Here we go.

~

“-are usually upset and asking for me to help them.”

“How do your clients find this hidden parlor of yours?”

It was too easy.

That was the whisper prickling at the back of his head, as he orated how his clients located him. Pietro and Rhodes had coached him, prepared him on what to say for every question and how much to say. So, he’d been expecting the interrogation of his livelihood – his full name, when he started his work, what he made financially, the ways he kept himself off the grid, where he purchased his inks and needles, how he mixed it with his own scent, who he contacted when he needed a new dwelling to hole up in.

It was everything he’d been expecting, which meant something was wrong.

“I see, so everything was word of mouth. Yet, you claim your average clientele was about 4 people a week.” Watts was pacing, a hand running over his mustache.

Qrow tried not to follow his movements too much, nor look up at the council staring down at him as he sat in the center chair, feeling like a jester about to perform. “Yes.”

The lawyer hesitated, hovering almost thoughtfully, before turning to face him fully. “That’s quite a lot for an underground business, Mr. Branwen. Are you certain there isn’t something else you were offering your clients?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.” He replied stiffly, the stifling vernacular feeling odd on his tongue.

“Then let me rephrase: Were you also having sexual transactions with your clients?”

His eyes blew wide, his temper rising into an explosive, “WHAT?!” That wasn’t quite drowned out by Rhodes extremely loud, “OBJECTION! What’s the relevance?”

“I just find it strange that the accused has held up a traveling business for twelve years now on underpaid work, yet kept up a steady stream of customers. Customers whom, may I remind the court, are already feeling emotionally vulnerable – as Mr. Branwen here himself has already attested to. As an outsider looking in, that raises some concerns.” Watts didn’t quite hide his smirk as he looked up at the council, and Qrow realized at that moment he’d gotten him. He had been trying to throw him off kilter, and it had worked.

“Abstained.” Leonardo said just as Theodore enthusiastically hollered, “Sustained!”

The Mistrialian shot his fellow councilman a frown. “What? Why?”

“I just want to see where this goes.” He looked a little too proud as he lent back in his chair. Qrow felt himself sinking in his own.

“This isn’t a courtroom drama, Theo. We can’t simply have people follow useless tracks of information simply to indulge ourselves.” The other said, sounding like a man whose patience was already wearing thin. “This has nothing to do with the crime the defendant is being tried for.”

Theodore rose a finger, tsking. “Isn’t it though? Mr. Branwen is on about a dozen counts of misconduct and malpractice. Who’s to say this isn’t relevant?”

“Well…” Leo started, then merely trailed off with a shake of his head, as if he’d lost the heart to fight.

For a split second, it seemed the motion from Vacuo would pull through – then James spoke up instead. “Be that as it may, there is no evidence to continue this inquisition.”

In all his years, Qrow never thought he’d want to thank Tin Man Jimmy, but right then he could have kissed him.

Then Watts had to open his mouth yet again, “I actually believe one very specific document we’ve submitted might in fact raise some concerns that not all of Mr. Branwen’s dealings were solely professional. But if it would please the court, I can rephrase again.”

What!?

As the council leaders mulled that over, Qrow sent a panicked glance back at his lawyers. The duo shared a look, before Rhodes made a quick hand gesture of twirling his index fingers around one another.

Roll with it.

How was he supposed to just-

“We’ll allow it, for now.” Ozpin decided, sealing his fate. “Proceed.”

Watts nodded before turning back to him, looking very much like a shark about to circle its’ prey. “Mr. Branwen, you’re an unbound alpha, correct?”

“Yes.” He answered, forcing down the growl that wanted to erupt.

“And as you’ve reported, every single one of your clients was an omega. It would not be unusual for a connection, of sorts, to come about. These things happen every single day after all.” Watts said, gesturing to the air as if love was equally plentiful. “So, my question is, did you ever develop feelings for any of them?”

His reply was short and clipped, “Of course not.”

“May I remind you Mr. Branwen, that you are under oath. Is what you just said completely true?”

For a split second, he hesitated. There was no way he could know.

…Right?

Yet, something about the glint in the beta’s eye told him to be wary, so this time when he repeated his defense, it was as unambiguous as possible, “I never developed any feelings for any of my clients while I was working with them.”

“I find that’s a very interesting claim to make.” Watts strode over to the far side table, where the evidence for the case had been laid out. His tattoo machine and inks were the most prominent pieces there, but the lawyer bypassed them, rifling through a stack of papers at the end of the table. When he returned to where Qrow was sitting, he was holding just one sheet. “I have here a log of all visits made to you during your stay at the prison. I’d like you to read a few of them for me.”

Oh fuck.

“Let’s start with November 30th, shall we?”

Mouth dry, Qrow weakly said, “Pietro Polendina and Rhodes Dium.”

“Your lawyers, of course. And December 6th?”

He almost felt detached from his own body as he obediently read it off, “Taiyang Xiao Long, Yang Xiao Long and Ruby Rose.”

“The clearance level for these three lists them as family.” The beta glanced up towards the court to clarify. “Records show that Taiyang and Mr. Branwen’s twin sister Raven are the sires for Yang Xiao Long. Now…”

Qrow braced himself as Watts looked down on him once more.

“What about November 27th?”

He blinked, so baffled he gave an audible, “Huh?”

“November 27th, right up here Mr. Branwen. What does it say?”

His gaze followed where the other was pointing. “Clover Ebi?”

In the corner of his eye, he noticed how James sat up a little straighter, a hint of metallic musk filling the room, but most of his focus stayed on Watts. He couldn’t actually be thinking that he… and Clover…

Yet, sure enough, the beta pulled the page away and said, “Now why would the Captain of the Atlas Ace Ops be visiting you?”

Qrow couldn’t quite fight the smile on his face and for the first time since the trial had started, he felt himself relax. He knew Clover was down the hall, probably laughing his head off as he waited for his turn to take the stand.  

“Something humorous, Mr. Branwen?”

He settled back. “Of you thinking Clover and I are getting it on under the sheets? Yeah, that’s hilarious.” He heard more than one barely contained chuckle from around him – and Theodore didn’t even try. “Clover’s a former client and a friend. When he found out I got into a bind, he came by to help me out. There’s nothing more to our relationship beyond that.”

Again, even as his attention stayed mostly on the beta, Qrow noticed the Atlas leader lowering his hackles.

How odd.

Watts was glaring at him now, but Qrow didn’t balk, waiting for the other’s next move. The last thing he was expecting was what followed, “I have no further questions.” Before heading back to the prosecution desk.

Even Rhodes seemed confused as he was motioned over for the cross examination. Yet, as they met eyes, a silent agreement passed between them not to falter as they got ready to read their lines.

~

“And how old were you when you lost Eris Branwen?”

“Thirteen.”

It was the sob story of the ages.

At least, that’s what it was meant to sound like. Yet, as Qrow spun the tragedy of his childhood, he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed, using his mother’s name to try and sway the court.

Rhodes hummed, as if he were thinking it over, even though he already had the next question ready to go. “Would you say it was her passing that eventually inspired you to start your work?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t enough to simply speak it, he had to perform too. So, he kept his head angled down, playing it up like the loss was still affecting him terribly.

Purgatory. That was probably where he was going when he died. If not, then something worse. Some place with fire and pitchforks.

“What did you hope to accomplish?”

He clenched his fists, the ferocity in his tone no act, “At first, I was just kind of down on my luck and trying to make a quick buck. I had the drawing skills so I thought, why not? I could give omegas another way to get rid of their brands without them having to carve out their own skin, and make a little money on the side until I could find something more stable. But the more involved I got, the more I felt I couldn’t just walk away from this. I realized I was giving them something they desperately needed – a way to take back their lives.”

Qrow looked up, meeting eyes with each of the kingdom’s leaders as he spoke, “Every omega who has to go to a reformatory is branded. It doesn’t matter what reason they’re there. They could be considered too outspoken. They could have just lost a mate. They could be sick like my mom! And part of their bullshit recovery is to scar them? They don’t get a choice of anything – not the word, not the placement, not even that it happens.” He gestured a bit wildly, voice rising an octave. “They’re treated more like property then people! And while this is happening to thousands of omegas every year, too many of us look the other way. But after my clients started sharing their stories, their pain with me, I refused to look away anymore. So I decided to dedicate my life to my work.”

“Even knowing that one day, you’d probably end up in the courtroom?” Rhodes asked, voice soft in the wake of Qrow’s intensity.

“Yes.” He replied firmly. “I’d go to jail a thousand times over if it meant making the difference for just one person.”

“And how do you know that it does?”

Internally, he felt himself ease, knowing this was the last question. “Because they keep finding me. No one would keep telling others where I am if they didn’t think I’d helped them.”

Rhodes nodded, taking that in, before he moved to dismiss him, “Then Mr. Branwen, I only have one final question.”

Wait, that wasn’t the plan!

Qrow tensed as the beta continued, “You’ve already attested with the prosecution that your relationships with your clients were always kept either on a professional or platonic level. Is there a particular reason why?”

He took note of the way the lawyer shot a meaningful glance towards Watts’ table, and it clicked. Right, Clover’s testimony went after his – there was no doubt the opposing lawyer was going to try poking holes in his own story by grilling the omega. This was his last chance to strengthen his own case.

He could have said anything, really, but what Qrow decided on was the truth, “Because I was already in love with someone well before the day I started my first tattoo.” His lips quirked up, the smile small but eternally fond, “He never felt the same, but I already know no one is ever going to take his place in my heart.”

What must Tai be thinking, watching this from home?

Heh, he probably thought he was pathetic.

If Rhodes was surprised by this revelation, he didn’t show it. “Thank you, Mr. Branwen. I have no further questions. You can return to your seat now.”

As he stood, Qrow couldn’t help but glance back up at the leaders, trying to gauge their reactions. Theo was nodding to something his most trusted righthand, Xanthe Rumpole, was whispering in his ear, their expressions a bit tight. James seemed lost in thought, rapping his knuckles along the desk in front of him. Leo kept mussing up his mane of hair, frown pronounced. As for Ozpin, he was a complete enigma. Expression hidden behind the hands crossed in front of him and eyes concealed in the glint of his glasses, it was impossible to say what he was feeling.

It was even more impossible to say whether any of it was positive or not.

He slumped back into his seat, accepting the pat from Pietro and whispered, “You did good my boy.”

“Sure hope so.” He murmured back. It was a relief to be done – but the trial had only just begun.

Across the room, Watts stood to call on the first witness.

~

“Name and occupation.”

“Clover Ebi. I’m the Captain of the Ace Ops.” The announcement was almost unneeded, as the omega had come dressed in full uniform, all his merits in plain view. He was even standing at parade rest, rather than taking the seat offered. But the most obstruse item of all was the mark on his arm – normally covered by a bandanna, the tattoo on the lower part of his bicep was in plain view. It was a simple rewrite of Ebi, now in brilliant green ink, with a trail of linked shamrocks branching off from the end of the I and circling around his arm to meet back at the E.

Watts’ eyes narrowed as he regarded him before turning to the council, eyeing Atlas’ side. “Before I go further, perhaps it would be wise to address the obvious conflict of interest here.”

“Objection.” Pietro called. “Arthur, we cleared this prior to coming here. If this was a concern, it should have been brought up then.”

“A slip of judgment on my part, clearly. It does not change the fact that the person who appointed the good captain here to that position is currently sitting as an acting judge right now.”

James crossed his arms over the table, leaning forward. “If it would ease any concerns, I could certainly testify as well.”

“Ah, not to correct you your honor, but the proper ethical thing to do is to disqualify yourself.” Watts said, running his index and thumb over his mustache. Qrow almost expected him to start twirling the ends of it.

This wasn’t good though. James had two votes on the Atlas council – if he was taken out of the equation, it would be nearly impossible to win Atlas’ judgment.

Underneath the table, Qrow’s foot started to bounce nervously.

Next to him, Rhodes lent in, murmuring, “It’s okay, we were expecting this to happen.”

Sure enough, Pietro cleared his throat, clarifying in a way that almost sound practiced, “I think the proper term in this instance is ‘excuse’, as he should only need to be absent for the proceeding he may be biased against. General Ironwood would clearly be welcome to return once Captain Ebi’s testimony is finished. If that is how the court wishes to proceed of course.”

There were some whispers from above, but it was Leo who spoke first, “It would probably be for the best James.”

“Ha! Yeah, he is your golden pup after all.” Theo joked boisterously.

James shot the Vacuon a disapproving glance, “Must you be so crude?” He turned to the man across from him. “Oz?”

“I have to agree.” He decided. “Your judgment is generally sound, but the connection is undeniable. Stepping down for now is the right call.”

“Very well. Feel free to come get me once this portion is complete.” The general stood.

Almost automatically, Clover saluted him. “Sir.”

In the wake of his departure, Qrow could hear the reporters jabbering on excitedly from the back. Faintly he could pick out one of them saying, “There’s no telling how Atlas’ judgment will go with the head of the council being excused during their most critical witness.”

It filled him with dread – but between Rhodes and Pietro, neither of them looked even slightly unfettered.

“The prosecution may continue.” Leo allowed.

“Thank you, your honor.”

~

Round and round the questioning went again. Back in parade rest, Clover answered everything with a decisive and steady demeanor. Most of it was the typical stuff – when had he first heard about Qrow, how did he locate him, how much did it cost him to have the work done.

Eventually, the dreaded one came: “During your dealing with the defendant, did he ever show any inappropriate behavior towards you?”

“No. He was very professional and respectful of my personal space.” Clover reported.

Watts rocked back a bit on his heels. “But unlike most of Mr. Branwen’s clients, you happened to keep in touch with him?”

“Not exactly. I left Qrow my contact information in case he ever got into trouble and needed help. He only utilized it a few times over the years.”

“Is that how you ended up visiting the defendant on November 27th? He called you?”

Clover shook his head. “No. Qrow was never allowed to make a phone call.”

“That means you would have had to of located him on your own.”

“Yes.”

“I apologize but I don’t seem to understand.” Watts held out his hand, as if gesturing for the other to throw him a bone. “You’re telling me that for the most part, your relationship ended after the transaction. Yet, when Mr. Branwen was arrested, you voluntarily chose to locate him?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you go through such a hassle for someone you’ve met all of once and talked to only a handful of times?”

Clover shifted his head, just enough to spare Qrow a glance over his shoulder, before he faced forward once more. “Everyone needs someone in their court when they need help. Qrow had sacrificed a multitude of things to be in ours. I wanted to be in his if there ever came a time he needed it.”

“So it was merely obligation.”

“No.” Every without seeing his face, Qrow could hear the smile in the omega’s voice, “I’d like to think we’re friends.”

Watts didn’t seem moved by this show of comradery. “Are you absolutely certain Captain Ebi that there is not more to your feelings then that?”

“I’m positive. But if you need proof,” Clover posture relaxed so he could reach up, pulling down his collar in a way that was almost obscene. “I can assure you I did not get this from Qrow.”

Watts stared, then hissed between grit teeth, “I have no further questions.”

As he stepped away, the council went alive with noise as did the reporters. Qrow could already hear tomorrow’s headlines.

Ace-Ops Captain, Bonded?!

He swallowed down the guilt as he imagined the heckling the omega was likely to get upon returning to work. While he only knew the rough basics of military culture, he absolutely knew how much shit omegas got if they were discovered to be in any sort of relationship. The few retired ones he’d worked with over the years all generally held the same belief that joining the service not only meant signing away their life but also their right to finding a mate.

If that weren’t bad enough, Clover would also have to deal with Jam-

Qrow could practically hear the flip switching the light on, his eyes going wide.

No fucking way.

He glanced over at Rhodes as the man got to his feet to start his cross-examination, giving him an assured smile as he went. To his left, Pietro just seemed pleased, like things had gone exactly the way they’d planned. Had this been why they hadn’t been worried when James got tossed out? Because the mere presence of his own mate would have a sway on him?

That was either ridiculously brilliant or needlessly risky. No wonder they were the perfect lawyers for him.

~

Like a major gearing up to grill down a new recruit, Rhodes paced back and forth across the floor as he spoke, “Captain Ebi, you claimed Qrow was not given a phone call when he was imprisoned. Do you have proof of this statement?”

“Beyond Qrow’s word, no.” Clover admitted. Unlike Qrow, who was following his lawyer’s movements, the soldier was perfectly disciplined, staring straight ahead.

“Then, what makes you so certain he’s telling the truth?”

Before he could reply, Watts interjected, “Objection, that answer would be an opinion not a fact.”

“I’ll retract it then.” Rhodes conceded. “Captain, were there any other issues with my client’s legal rights that you’re aware of?”

Clover nodded once. “He wasn’t in the public system. Everyone incarcerated should be listed there, but I had to use my military clearance to locate him instead.”

“And how-”

Obnoxiously, Watts cleared his throat. Qrow couldn’t help but shoot the other man a glare – though the lawyer hardly seemed to notice as he drawled, “As fascinating as this all is, that’s prejudicial evidence and has very little to do with the crime the defendant is being tried for. If Mr. Branwen wishes to file for improper due process, he can handle that in Atlas’ civil courts.”

“Sustained. Mr. Dium, I suggest moving on.” Oz decided.

“Yes, your honor.”

It wasn’t a surprising outcome; truthfully, they’d both told Qrow it would likely get tossed out before they really took off running with it – especially after they discovered who the prosecutor was. Regardless, they’d agreed to keep it in to hopefully drum up more sympathy in the council. With so little said, it was hard to say if it would make an impact at all.

Hardly shaken, Rhodes barreled on. “Captain Ebi, you attested before that omegas in the military are branded with their last name. When does this procedure occur?”

“During the first week of recruitment training.” Clover reported.

“Do you get to choose where that mark goes?”

“No.”

“And alphas and betas are exempt from this?”

“Yes. Only omegas have to go to the brander.”

“I see.” The lawyer paced over to stand before him. “Did any of your commanding officers ever explain this discrepancy?”

Though Clover remained steady, Qrow could see the way his hands clenched a little tighter where they were crossed behind his back. “My sergeant at the time had said that when we signed up, we signed away everything to our Kingdom, including our bodies. Since omegas can’t control their scents or how distracting they might be to the other alphas in service, the tattooing was a way to alter that smell so it would be less desirable.”

“Now, perhaps this is merely because I’m a beta,” Rhodes waved a hand to himself as he said this, “But I always believed alphas had just as strong of a scent. Are you saying theirs wasn’t distracting to you on the field?”

The soldier shook his head in response. “No, they were. A few omegas were even known to freeze if an alpha’s scent was particularly overtaking in the moment.”

Though his eyes were trained on the two of them, in the corner of his eye Qrow noticed the furtive looks Sleet and Camilla – two of Atlas’ council – were sharing. Yet, it was anyone’s guess if their concerns came from the obvious discriminations or from allowing omegas to enlist at all.

“Did no one notice that issue?” Rhodes asked, beginning to pace again.

“They did – but our drill sergeants would only lay in on the recruit for losing their nerve.” Clover explained.

“During your time at the training camp, did anyone ever claim they had frozen up from an alpha’s scent?”

“No. Everyone was too afraid too. I spoke up once though when one of my buddies was getting reamed for it.”

“And what happened when you did that?”

“I was told to drop until I dropped.” At Rhodes’ arched brow, Clover clarified, “Meaning I was forced to do physical exercise until I was close to passing out. It was a common punishment for extreme insubordination.”

Qrow had heard this story before – it had been one the younger had shared with him while under the needle. That was how he knew just how much Clover was glossing over. Like how his drill sergeant at the time was also an alpha, and when she started shouting at the recruit in question, the shock of another alpha’s hormones so soon after the first only caused them to freeze up more. Or how the screaming had gone on for nearly ten minutes before Clover had stepped in. That during the duration of his punishment, the omega was constantly forced to push his limits every time he fell down from exhaustion, because his sergeant would threaten him with being kicked out if he didn’t get up.

It was from that, that Qrow finally understood why Clover had wanted the rebrand so badly.

Either Rhodes had already also noticed the inequity or had planned out his questions, because his next was: “Was anyone else given the same treatment for speaking out of turn?”

“No.” Clover’s tone didn’t quite hide his annoyance. “The only other time I saw someone go through it was for someone who tried to smuggle beer out of the kitchen.”

“Would you say this experience was what led you to eventually find my client and ask for his assistance?” Rhodes had stopped again, facing him once more.

“Yes; when I was appointed Captain, I felt a responsibility to my fellow omegas to take a stand against the inequalities we face in the military. Rebranding was the most visual way I felt I could do that.”

“Yet, until this day, no one publicly knew about your rebranding. Is there a reason for this?”

He hesitated, before continuing bravely, “My significant other convinced me not to. He said that I was already rocking the boat and if I rocked any harder then I’d capsize it. I took his advice to heart and committed myself to waiting.”

“And what were you waiting for?”

For the first time, Clover dared to break posture, looking up at the council as he declared, “A day in which I could tell my story and know people were finally listening.”

A brief but powerful hush fell across the court.

Rhodes let it hold a few seconds more, before finally saying, “Thank you Captain Ebi. I have no further questions. You may step down.”

~

There was no denying that something had changed in the court. The air had become tense and heavy.

It only seemed to grow as Maria took the stand next. To appear less threatening, Pietro took over the questioning when it came time for the cross examination. That way it seemed kinder as his questions unraveled bits and pieces of Maria’s past as a trafficked omega when she was only thirteen. Hearing it the second time through was no less easy then the first, and Qrow had to lower his head to hide his shining eyes. Simultaneously, Theo’s jokes seemed to disappear, his expression having hardened to something grave as he listened to one of his own people’s cruel upbringing.

“In my time, there was no way to take a stand against the things that happened to us.” Maria pointed her cane towards Qrow. “Having that whippersnapper over there redo my mark was my way of fighting back after all these years. The atrocities of my generation are thankfully long gone; but it’s clear to me there’s still much to be done with this one.”

After her, was Robyn. Needing no coddling, Rhodes stood at the forefront once more – but he hardly had to ask questions to get the woman to talk. She hadn’t taken the position of the Omega Alliance’s leader by being quiet after all.

That’s perhaps why it seemed to boom across the walls as she pointed up at the council, “With all due respect to the court, not a single person on any of the four councils is an omega! Who speaks for us? Our rights are decided by those who don’t know what it’s like to live oppressed. That’s why the Alliance protected Qrow – because when you’re oppressed or even simply supporting the oppressed, the rest of the world is quick to try and silence you.”

By the time Rhodes was dismissing her and taking his seat once more, he seemed a bit overwhelmed. “Miss Hill is quite the spitfire, isn’t she?”

“That she is. I think even our council was a bit overcome, seeing her in person.” Pietro’s laugh was hearty.

Qrow couldn’t fight the faint smile, though his nerves quickly took it away. There was only one witness left and then it was judgment time. The hours they had been at this suddenly seemed too short. “So, only Vernal left?” He asked needlessly, wincing when his voice cracked.

“Well, actually-”

Pietro never got to finish as Watts stood up and said, “I’d like to call the final witness, Taiyang Xiao Long, to the stand.”

There was no conscious thought.

He stood up, fast enough his chair tipped over, snarling angrily at the other lawyer, “WHAT?!”

In the next second, Rhodes was pulling him down by his arm, getting to his feet and saying rapidly, “Ah, can the defense have a quick recess first please?”

“I see no reason for that. We’re almost at the end and the UFK’s time is very valuable.” Watts interjected, smirking like things were finally going his way. “We can simply excuse Mr. Branwen if he can’t control himself.”

Fuck everything. He was going to go punch him in the face.

“Now, now, let’s all just calm down. It’s been a very long day and I’m sure all of us could use a breather.” Oz held a hand out towards their table, as if offering them a bone. “Fifteen minutes for the defense.”

They made it out the door in one.

The little sitting room he was brought to by a guard was entirely ignored as he whirled on his lawyers, voice rising, “How could you do this to him?!”

“Now Qrow-”

“Don’t!” He growled, not that it had any effect on the betas. “Denounce him as a witness! I am not going to allow you all to humiliate my best friend in front of the whole world!”

“We can’t do that. The only way Taiyang can be dismissed at this point is if he refuses to testify.” Pietro explained.

“Oh fucking perfect! This is just...!” Qrow threw up his hands, storming to the other side of the room. It was only the fact that the armchairs looked more expensive than his childhood house that prevented him from kicking any of them.

He picked up a forgotten notepad from one of the tables, tearing the pages to pieces instead.

Pietro rolled up beside him. “We didn’t seek him out. He volunteered to testify.”

“And you let him?!” Riiip. “You’re so smart, but you couldn’t figure out why I didn’t want him to be a part of this?”

“We know you’re hopelessly in love with him.”

It was a good thing magic didn’t exist – otherwise the glare he sent to Rhodes might have melted him on the spot.

Pietro hastily intervened, “What my associate means to say is, we understand your feelings have led you to be… less than objective on this matter.”

He couldn’t turn his imaginary superpower on the old man even if he tried, so he just went back to his quiet destruction.

“But the fact of the matter is, no one made this choice but Taiyang. For the same reason I imagine you made yours, my boy.” He gave him a comforting pat. “He wanted to protect you.”

Qrow paused halfway through a sheet. But after a beat, he scowled, tearing the rest. “Of course he does, that’s just… him! He’s not thinking it through. If this goes badly, he’ll never be able to get away from being part of this case. Someone will always remember. I don’t want him to live with that shame.”

“You know, I sat down with all the potential witnesses.” Rhodes began gently, “Most of them had another agenda, coming here. Good ones, of course, but still. Everyone else we considered were all preoccupied with making a statement. Taiyang was the only one who came here solely for you.” He came over, standing on his other side. “I don’t think the repercussions matter, even if he hasn’t considered them. Because to him you’re worth the risk.”

His old friend, Déjà Vu, nettled at the back of his head. Why did that sound so familiar?

Pietro added, “I think we all also agree you certainly shouldn’t go rotting away in a prison either. So, trust us all a little bit longer. We’ll see this through.”

“Can’t cry ‘till it’s all over, right?”  Qrow grumbled, the ripping finally stopped.

“That’s how it goes. Chin up, my boy. We got a case to win.”

~

It was certain. After today, wherever Qrow was going after he died, a section would be reserved solely for him.

Because he seriously could not be marveling just how wonderful Tai looked in a suit as he walked into the room. He even shot Qrow his ever-radiant smile as he made his way between the tables, taking his seat in the chair still set in the center of the room.

Leo lent forward. “Young man, do you swear that everything you are about to say will be nothing but the truth?”

“I do.” Tai said, placing a hand to his heart.

“The prosecution may proceed.”

Watts stood. “Thank you, your honor.” He was already spitting out his first question as he crossed over. “Please state your name and occupation for the court.”

“Taiyang Xiao Long. I’m an 8th grade teacher at Signal Academy.”

“Mr. Xiao Long, how did you come to know the defendant?”

Tai lent back in the chair, crossing his ankle over his knee as if he was about to have a casual conversation with the other man. “We grew up a few houses down from each other. Both our parents were of Mistrialian descent and Qrow’s family had recently moved to Patch. My mother felt it was important we got to know them and make them feel welcome. The rest is history.”

“What age were you?” Watts plucked at his mustache. Every time he did, Qrow couldn’t help but think the other was scheming up something.

“It was right before 1st grade started, so I was five, almost six. And Qrow was already six.”

“That’s quite a long time. And what would you consider your relationship with Qrow to be?”

“We’re best friends.”

Watts arched one fine eyebrow. “Not brother-in-laws? After all, the record shows Yang is his biological niece.”

“Uh, well,” The omega rubbed the back of his neck. “Raven and I never married. So, we’re not legally related.”

“I see.” Was the reply, something methodical behind the way the elder let the words drawl out slowly. Stalling as he thought. “But you two have remained close all these years?”

“I mean, we’ve had our ups and downs like any other friendship and his work tends to keep him distant.” Tai lent back, his next statement confident and sincere, “But yes, Qrow is my closest and most trusted friend.”

Though Qrow already knew that truth, the sentiment still made his chest warm brilliantly.

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t have a chance to settle, because Watts chose now to take the shot.

“So then surely you noticed when Qrow’s fascination with omegas first started?”

Tai spluttered. “P-Pardon?”

“Hmm, so that’s how he’s playing it.” Qrow barely caught Pietro’s murmur under the crack of Rhodes’ hand smacking the table.

“Objection! Arthur that’s a leading question.”

The other lawyer gave a shrug, as if it didn’t truly matter. “So it is. I retract it.”

Had he done that on purpose? Nails scratching across the table, Qrow barely withheld a scowl as he started to figure it out as well. Watts was trying to give the idea he was obsessed. It didn’t matter that the question was getting tossed aside; just the implication he wasn’t fully mentally sound would stand out.

He breathed out slow, trying to reign in the anxiety.

It was fine. They still had to do the cross examination – which would be the chance to do some damage control.

“Am I still allowed to answer it?”

The entire court’s attention snapped to Tai, shocked and bewildered.

A beat, then suddenly the reporters were in a frenzy while Qrow desperately tried not to tear out his own hair.

Tai what are you doing!?

Even Watts wasn’t completely unfazed, having to clear his throat first. “Uh, yes, well... I suppose that is up to the court.”

“If he wants to, why not let him?” Predictably, that was Theo.

James sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Because it can lead to unsustainable evidence. Really Theo, have you ever sat in on a real court hearing before?”

“Nope!”

Qrow was beginning to think the only way he was winning Vacuo’s majority was by entertaining them enough.

From the opposite side of the bench, Oz sipped from his mug (when had that appeared?) as he peered down at Taiyang. “Do you believe what you have to say is important to this case?”

“I do, your honor.” Tai sounded so certain. What in Brothers’ names was he up to?

“Then let’s hear it.”

He nodded, facing the prosecutor once more. “The reason Qrow has such an interest in omegas is because he used to be one.”

Oh boy. Qrow sunk a bit in his seat, practically feeling the cameras turning towards him.

For the second time in ten minutes, the court went into a frenzy – bad enough that Leo had to call for order to quiet everyone down.

Watts was staring at Tai like one would a countryside bumpkin. “As fantastical as that claim is Mr. Xiao Long, biology does not work that way. Qrow was born an alpha, therefore he is an alpha.”

“Yes, he is, but he wasn’t raised like one. Qrow’s parents were convinced he would be an omega, so they groomed him to be one. He went to omega-based primordial classes. He could sew by the time he was nine and he was cooking with his mom a few months before she passed away. And that doesn’t even begin to cover all the socialization differences.” Tai uncrossed his legs, leaning forward. “Just because Qrow presented otherwise doesn’t take away from the fact that for thirteen years, he was an omega. So of course he feels a connection with the dynamic he was once a part of.”

“That’s a bold claim to make, but I’m afraid you don’t have the psychological expertise to back it.”

“Perhaps, but I do have personal experience.”

“As a teacher, you mean?”

“No.” Qrow didn’t have to see it to know Tai’s smile was smug. “As someone who lived his first fourteen years as an alpha.”

That got the court going again, though more contained this time around.

Watts seemed to be at the end of his rope with this clown show, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

It was a small, but significant, victory.

~

“So, you’ve never sat in on any of Mr. Branwen’s tattooing sessions with another client?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

“I had no reason too. Not only would it be invasive for the omega having the work done, I’d seen and experienced first-hand how careful Qrow was with his work.”

“How can you be certain he wasn’t just treating you, his closest companion, as an exception?”

“I suppose he did in some ways. Like not minding our eight-to-ten-hour sessions for weeks on end. But as far as his work ethic goes, when I found him, he was thin as a stick because he was sacrificing his grocery budget just to make sure he had all the needles and antiseptics he needed in stock.”

The questioning had been going on for nearly forty-five minutes.

At first, he assumed Watts was just continually trying to dig through his history via Tai, hoping to find something incriminating to prove Qrow was, in fact, a spawn born from the deepest pits of darkness. While that was certainly somewhat true – such as spinning his introverted habits into something more sinister (“Did Mr. Branwen ever have other instances in which he had issue working with others?”) – it didn’t seem the lawyer’s primary goal. The realization of what was creeped up on him as he noticed Glynda hide a yawn behind her hand and Lil’ Miss check her watch.

“He’s stalling.” He hissed.

“Yes.” Pietro was equally displeased. “It’s one of his favorite tactics. He knows the more time he takes, the less we have. I figured he might do this right at the end.”

“Can’t you do anything?”

He rubbed a hand under his chin thoughtfully. “In a normal court, no… but perhaps in this one…”

“We’ll give it a shot.” Rhodes agreed, getting to his feet. “Objection! Arthur, you’ve been at this for quite some time. Is this line of questioning going anywhere?”

The other lawyer waved to Tai, “I merely wish to delve into as much of the defendant’s history as possible, seeing as Mr. Xiao Long here is our only character witness.”

“But wasn’t it also you who said the UFK’s time was valuable?”

“Are you accusing me of wasting time Dium? That’s not a true objection.”

From further above, James asserted, “As it is, I’m thinking to sustain it regardless. I’ve heard about as much of Mr. Branwen’s teenage escapades as I care to hear.”

As the conversation went on above them, Qrow couldn’t help but notice the way Tai fell back some in his seat, a line of exhaustion weighing his shoulders. It seemed Watts’ tactic hadn’t just affected the court. The omega had been very careful the entire time, never giving too much with any answer and, if he could, trying to keep things in a positive light.

He imagined since his best friend was trying to hold up one of the most cynical bastards he’d ever known, his arms had to be getting tired.

“Stop that. You’re not a joke, you know?”

The echoing words chiding him left his lips quirking upwards.

Heh. Right. When was he going to learn to stop underestimating the other man? Tai wasn’t here simply to get him out of trouble; he was here because he believed in Qrow. Not just what he represented, or the work he did, but him at his core. If anything, Qrow was the one being the real fool, not even humoring the idea that very little of what Tai had said so far even stretched the truth.  

That maybe, just maybe, Tai truly did regard him that highly.

Gods, He thought fondly, What did I ever do to deserve you?

As if he could feel Qrow’s stare, Tai glanced back. Though it was hard to tell from this distance, he seemed almost nervous.

Despite knowing he probably wouldn’t be able to make it out, Qrow mouthed as precisely as he could, ‘You’re doing great!’

Something must had translated, because Tai grinned.

“-Four more questions, understood?” Leo was saying, tuning them back into the trial.

“Understood your honor.” Watts replied. There was something almost deadly in his eyes as he faced Tai once more, like he was staring down a dueling opponent and he was best trying to figure how to win the draw. “Mr. Xiao Long, we’ve been speaking of the defendant’s purchase history for some time now, but there’s one in particular I would like you to look at with me.” Much like he had with Qrow, the lawyer picked up some documents from the evidence table, bringing them over. “As the court is already well aware, alphas and omegas are both required to be registered with the pharmacy, so that suppressant usage can be documented and properly distributed.” He stopped in front of Tai. “This is from six years ago, during the same months you happened to have testified you were within contact with him in Argus.”

Qrow sat up, ramrod straight as a stone dropped into his gut. Fuck.

“Will you read for the court the purchase made on July 27th and then the one made on August 12th, including the amounts and prescription length?”

Tai seemed confused, even as he complied, “Moschidor, 200mg, thirty-day use. $28.50. Odocoilus, 300mg, fifteen-day use. $53.66.”

“So, let me clarify what occurred here.” Watts said, gesturing with the papers to the court, “The defendant was on Moshidor, one of the cheaper suppressants on the market, but known for its general effectiveness for every day use. However, before the defendant’s prescription was even close to being finished, he was purchasing Odocoilus, a much more expensive and aggressive suppressant. We’ve also already covered that the defendant’s budget constraints hardly allowed for such lavish spending. Which only leads me to believe that he was in a position in which he had to make this purchase.” He spun back to Tai and took the shot, “So the question is Mr. Xiao Long, do you happen to know if some sort of incident occurred to spark this change?”

At a loss for words, the omega just spluttered. “I, well, uh…”

“Please answer the question Mr. Xiao Long.” He pressured.

Tai shifted uncomfortably, ducking his head. “He… had a spontaneous rut.”

Qrow’s nails dug into the grain of the table, hearing the too-loud whispers of the reporters start up.

“Well now isn’t that fascinating.” Watts exclaimed, looking much like a man who had just discovered a gold mine. “Spontaneous ruts are most often caused by the presence of a potential mate. It wouldn’t be an unforeseen happenstance, being around as many omegas as he was. But then, that doesn’t line up with Mr. Branwen’s declaration of holding a candle for someone well before his tattooing days, now does it?”

In the brief hush, Qrow worked out the options. Tai could lie, of course. Could say he just missed a few doses – but then Watts would string that along to make him seem irresponsible and intentionally hazardous. Or, maybe he could convince everyone the suppressants just stopped working because his body became too accumulated to his current prescription. It would work, if only it couldn’t be easily countered by the fact that effectiveness goes down overtime, and other rut-like symptoms would have popped up months prior to the full cycle.

It was with a sinking feeling he realized there was only one ‘good’ answer to that question.

A flush was working its way up Tai’s neck, pinkening his ears, as he no doubt came to the same conclusion. “It does, actually. Because…” His whole back rolled with the breath he took before raising his head, “I’m that person.”

Yet again, an explosion of noise overtook the court.

Qrow shut his eyes, as if he could shut it all out. The little victory they had gotten earlier on in the testimony felt like a consolation prize to the defeat they were facing now. Even with only two questions left, Watts had a dozen little ways he could twist that information and the precious seconds it took the leaders to call for order only gave him more time to figure out exactly how to best ruin the most beautiful thing in Qrow’s life.

Ruin it he clearly wanted too, what with the way Watts steepled his fingers together and smiled menacingly as he waited patiently for order to be restored before speaking, “Mr. Xiao Long, I’m afraid I feel like I’m missing a few pieces here. Your statement implies you triggered Mr. Branwen’s rut. However, spontaneous ruts don’t come about from a mere crush. Otherwise, we’d have every teenager in the world out of school every other week. Mr. Branwen had to be in a situation in which he felt you could become his mate for a rut to happen in this manner. So, what occurred between you two to create this chain reaction?”

“We… spent the night together. Platonically!” Tai stressed quickly. “It was my birthday and we’d had a few glasses of wine together. He invited me to stay over for the night. Nothing else happened.” A pause, then Tai added in rashly, “We’d done it a million times before so I didn’t think anything of it. I hadn’t known Qrow had had any feelings for me at the time, otherwise I wouldn’t have stayed.”

Qrow grimaced and hunkered down, already knowing what was about to be said.

Sure enough, Watts grabbed the lead in like he’d just fished his best catch of the day, “I find that very curious of you to say. Because Qrow’s already attested to the fact you never returned his feelings – but he failed to say when you rejected him. Now from this account, it seems to me he manipulated you into a hazardous situation, using your ignorance to his potential gain.”

Fury burnt in his gut, angry tears brimming. That wasn’t what happened! He’d never… could never have lived with himself, if he’d hurt Tai like that. How was it right that someone could mock his love this way? Make it seem like a sham.

Yet just as it felt like all he could do was sit here helplessly as the one thing he’d held most dear fell apart for all to witness, Tai stood up for him, chair scraping back, voice near explosive all on its own, “No! That’s not the truth!”

Watts merely arched a brow at the emotional display, and rather than calling him out for the outburst only egged him on further with his final question, “Then what is the truth, Mr. Xiao Long?”

“The truth is it was my fault!”

Oh Tai… Qrow shook his head, willing him not to take the fall for him but unable to stop him as he bravely carried on.

He expected some outlandish lie to protect him.

Some sort of tall tale that he’d conjured up to push the blame off of himself so that Tai looked like the guilty party in all this.

What he didn’t expect – the last thing he’d ever expect in the entire world – was what Tai said next.

“Qrow’s rut didn’t trigger because of his feelings, they triggered because of mine!”

WHAT?!

….W���What?

Even as the press stirred up behind him and the council bore down from above, Tai didn’t halt, tone trembling on the words, “I had started falling for him when we met up again. But I was too much of a coward to tell him, because the last time I had, my entire life was upended!” He pointed frenziedly towards James’ section. “I got shipped off to Atlas and my daughters ripped away from me! Years I’ll never get back, because I had dared fall in love a second time. I couldn’t stand the thought of it happening again, so I… I never told Qrow.” His arm fell and, with it, his ferocity.

Qrow didn’t need to see him to know he was crying.

“Not that it would have mattered. Qrow was already staying away as much as possible to keep me and my girls out of this. Telling him, when we couldn’t be together, would have been cruel.” Tai hung his head, ending softly, “I loved him too much to break his heart that way.”

The irony was, he certainly didn’t feel that was even possible, with how full his heart suddenly was. He wanted to cry. He wanted climb the tallest mountain in the world and shout his happiness until it echoed into the canyons. But more than anything, he wanted to jump up and take Tai into his arms and never, ever let him go.

Watts cleared his throat, reminding him where he was and that his life was on the cusp of being nothing but three stone walls and a door with bars. “I suppose… I have no further questions.” He walked back to his table, only stopping long enough to gripe, “And take your seat, Mr. Xiao Long.”

As Tai sat back down, Ozpin lent forward, surprisingly kind as he offered, “Would the witness like a moment, before we continue?”

“No.” He snuffled, running a hand over his eyes. “I’m okay. I apologize for the display.”

The leader only nodded, “Very well. The defense may proceed.”

Pietro gave Qrow a firm pat on the back, “Hang in there, my boy.” Before making his way to the evidence table. He picked up a paperback book and, strangely, a measuring tape, before rolling himself over to Tai. “I promise to be brief, Mr. Xiao Long. Now, you said it took about six months for my client to finish rebranding your mark, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And during those six months, you met every Sunday for up to ten hours a day, correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And where is your brand?”

“It’s on my back.” Tai made a vague motion towards the area. “Across my shoulder blades.”

“I see. So, it’s not in plain view. Would you please remove your shirt to show the court?”

That had Watts snapping, “Objection! We’ve seen Qrow’s work on the other witnesses. We don’t need to disgrace Mr. Xiao Long in such a manner.”

“I do promise that I am going somewhere with this.” Pietro told the court. “Mr. Xiao Long’s time with Mr. Branwen was significantly longer than any other witness or potential witness we encountered, but I believe seeing it will only truly express why.”

The four leaders glanced at one another, before James tipped his head, “We’ll allow it. Mr. Xiao Long, if you would.”

Tai got to back to his feet, turning around. His fingers fumbled a bit over the buttons of his shirt as his eyes met Qrow’s, a confliction of feelings playing across his face. Qrow couldn’t help but feel a storm well within him. There was so much he wanted to say and to make up for. But all they could have right now were their gazes on one another, the longing between them almost tangible.

Tai shrugged out of his shirt, the fabric falling to the floor.

A ring of gasps could be heard from some of the councilmembers.

Qrow didn’t need to see it to know why, remembering every line he’d etched like it had been just yesterday.

He could almost feel his hand moving once more, his outline detailing the S into an 8 – Tai’s birthdate. Within the top and bottom circles, the colors of dawn and dusk bloomed anew along the beaches of Patch. Both the upper and lower half were drawn out symmetrically so they mirrored one another. Both had the same sands, the same waves, the same distant isles of Vale, and even the same birds flying in the sky. The only difference was the time of day, so that the sun rose and fell in infinity.

Beside it was the former L that was now shaped like an arch window. Spilling out of the shadows of a deep cave was a glorious four-legged dragon, with scales of gold and wings like a bird’s folded upon its back. It was peering down at where the end of its tail was curled up like a small spiral, where a little black bird was perched, beak open in song.

Then was the U, no longer detectable as it had blossomed into a simple silver rose, a loving reminder of a pendant Summer herself once wore. The edges of the rose were given a red tinge to match the woman’s graduating hair. A few of the petals were giving way, delicately falling on either side. Cursive script had been added both above and below the rose, the exact words of a poem the woman had once adored, versing out: ‘Thus kindly… I scatter’.

Finally came the T, now transformed into a maple tree not unlike the ones spread around the yard of Tai’s house. This one was on the cusp of autumn, its bright green leaves having a blush of reds, oranges and yellows. At the time it was a wish, the colors a representation of the family Tai hoped to raise at his former summer home. Below the tree, a sea of white daisies and sunflowers had sprouted up, stems bent like they were dancing. A new beginning in the sunlight.

Each one was created with a steady hand and careful consideration for the man who bore them. So that when Tai walked out the door that final time, it was no longer with shame, but with pride that he could wear something on his back that was as beautiful as he was.

Pietro allowed them to stare for several long seconds, before he requested, “Rhodes, if you could assist me for just a moment.” The other lawyer was quick join him, taking the tape measure as it was handed over. “If you would, could you measure out the length of the first tattoo for me?” The ruler made a metallic hush as it was pulled out and held against the man’s back. “Now Mr. Xiao Long, could you read for us the reading on the tape?”

Tai glanced down as Rhodes held it out towards him. “Eight and a half inches.”

“And what was the first letter of the word on your back?”

“It was an S.”

“Is the S still discernable?”

“Yes. It’s one half of the figure eight.”

Pietro nodded, glancing at his associate. “Just to make sure it is fully understood, Rhodes, can you trace the letter so that the court can clearly see what Mr. Xiao Long means?”

“Of course.” Rhodes complied, stepping to the side so it was in clear view as his finger followed the line.

“Thank you. You may return to your seat Rhodes. As can you, Mr. Xiao Long.”

Tai met Qrow’s eyes one more time, and this time gave him a tiny smile, before he turned to settle back into the chair. He fetched his shirt up off the floor.

While Tai was making himself decent once more, Pietro drew the attention his way as he held up the book to the court. “I have here in my hand a guidebook from the New Horizons Reformatory, the very same one Mr. Xiao Long attended. In chapter three of this book, are the guidelines for omega branding.” He flipped over to the chapter he had to be talking about, holding it out to Tai. “Mr. Xiao Long, would you please read aloud the parameters for acceptable size of the brand, as listed under section 3?”

“A brand is not to exceed the length of two inches and no larger than the length of the chosen body part to prevent words from circling around the limb.” Tai recited obediently.

“Mhm. And can you also read aloud section 5?”

“The chosen word cannot in any way be considered: derogatory, defamatory or otherwise indecent to be seen by the public eye.”

Pietro lowered the book. “Mr. Xiao Long, the word that was on your back is entirely indiscernible, but am I correct to assume it was a four-letter word that started with an S?”

“Yes.”

“Would you please tell the court what that word once was?”

Tai took a breath and the room seemed to hold it with him.

Then, he released it and the terrible truth along with it, “It used to say ‘Slut’.”

Not a word was uttered. Even the reporters in the back had nothing to say, because it spoke for itself.

Qrow chanced a glance upwards. Few could look at Taiyang, and those who were did not hide their humanity. Of course, it was the four leaders that seemed the most prominent. Theo’s frown was heavily pronounced, his gaze burning holes into the tabletop in front of him. James was running a hand over his eyes, a sagging to his once proud shoulders. Leo was shaking his head, murmuring quietly to himself. And Oz, as usual, was near completely unreadable, hiding his expression behind his hands again.

Hope beat like a frail thing in his chest and he tried not to hold it too hard.

The silence was eventually broken by Pietro snapping the book closed with an air of finality. “Thank you, Mr. Xiao Long. I have no further questions. You may step down.”

“Well,” Leo spoke up, as the two men began to move. “As there are no further witnesses, we’ll allow for the final statements. After that, the jury will convene for a judgment and-”

The rest of it faded to background noise, Qrow’s fixation completely on Tai as he passed between the tables.

The omega paused, just long enough to mouth a single word to him before he continued on:

‘Soon.’

It felt like a promise.

~

Thirty minutes was all it took to decide his fate.

He had thought the deliberation period would last longer. That everything they’d done here today would shake up at least some people’s conventions. Yet, for the decision to be made so quickly meant there’d been little to no discourse. No split votes. No uncertainties. Nothing that held up their ruling.

Almost as if their verdict had been made well before he even first walked into the room.

It didn’t seem to add up. After all the heavy expressions, outbursts, and shocked silences, Qrow had thought they had had an impact.

Had it all just been for the cameras?

Had nothing mattered?

Traversing the path back to the conference room for the last time, Qrow felt like he was walking back to the gallows.

“Don’t look so glum. It’s not over yet.” Pietro urged as he wheeled along beside him.

He scoffed. “Tch. Might as well be. Face it wheels, they already knew what they wanted to do with me before we ever started this dog and pony show.”

“Perhaps…” Was all he said and thankfully no more.

On his other side, Rhodes offered him a firm pat to the back, though it failed to do much when his own expression was crooked with nerves.

Too soon, Qrow was settled back into his chair between his lawyers. Not much had changed about the room, except the witness chair was gone and the reporters had been given permission to encroach further in the room – most of them stood only ten feet away from his table. Across the way, Watts was completely at ease, his hands clasped before his face to hide a smirk. No doubt because he too knew this was already over.

Ozpin spoke first, “We’ve called you back in here because our councils have reached our verdicts. Each head of council will give their individual verdicts based on majority vote before giving our unanimous ruling. Mr. Branwen, we ask you to come to the center of the room as we read our verdict.”

The heat of an invisible spotlight followed him every step of the way as he did as requested, until he stood in the exact spot he’d made his initial testimony. But the anxiety he’d felt then was nothing compared to now – heart pounding, ears rushing, hands curled up into fists to hide their shakes. It took all of his strength to look up and face the court. Every face he looked at was carefully blank, giving away nothing.

Barred, like he soon would be.

“James,” Oz gestured towards him, “Since the defendant was apprehended on your kingdom’s grounds, I feel it only appropriate to allow you to go first.”

“Thank you Oz.”

As the general got to his feet, Qrow ducked his head to hide his grimace. It was better this way. Hearing the one kingdom that assuredly condemned him meant he couldn’t possibly get his hopes up by any other rulings.

James began, voice commanding all attention to him, “In the case of Qrow Branwen v. the Four Kingdoms-”

He screwed his eyes shut. On the cusp of the end of his life, he swore it flashed before him. Tiny, trivial, nearly uncatchable bits of the people he’d left behind or let down.

His father’s stern hand.

The softness of his mother’s hugs.

His twin’s pretentious stance.

His nieces’ excitement every time he came home.

The buzzing of his pen as he drew a thousand different works of art upon a thousand different people.

“-We, the council of Atlas, ruled 3-to-5 and find the accused…”

But of everything that slipped in and out like sand through an hourglass, the one that held tightest without letting go was Tai. Until there was nothing left in his memories but the bright smile he’d first fallen in love with eighteen years ago.

A smile he’d taken for granted twelve years ago.

Had fought to bring back six years ago.

Now, today, he’d be taking it away, as the world who cared nothing for an omega’s happiness found a way to break his heart for a third and final time.

I’m sorry, Tai. Qrow thought helplessly just as the verdict was declared.

“-Innocent of disorderly conduct against omegakind.”

Qrow wasn’t sure if the boom he heard was Watts’ hands meeting the table from shock or his own head exploding.

Had… he truly heard that right?

As he dared peek in James’ direction, he swore he got the hint of a smile on the man’s face as he took his seat once more. A glance back, and he could see Pietro and Rhodes’ optimistic expressions. Watched the reporters twitter about animatedly, repeating the ruling into their cameras.

“Can you believe-”

“The ruling is in-”

“-and in this shocking turn of events-”

“-Atlas’ decision is innocent!”

The shock hadn’t even had a chance to start wearing off, before Qrow’s focus was forward once more as Leo was encouraged to go next.

His proclamation was much shorter: “The Mistral council finds Qrow Branwen innocent in a 6-to-9 ruling.”

Then went Theo, who had the audacity to wink at him before speaking, “The Vacuo council ruled 7-to-11 that Mr. Branwen is innocent.”

Breath coming short and every bit of him tingling, Qrow could barely contain his anticipation as Ozpin stood to give the final verdict:

“In a unanimous 8-to-8 ruling, we the Vale council also declare the accused innocent. As the UFK has reached a shared ruling, Qrow Branwen will be acquitted of all charges against him.” Before the commotion could really get going, the leader held up a hand, speaking over it, “Furthermore, this case has brought to our attention that omega branding has become an outdated and, quite frankly, inhumane practice. Thus, we have decided that any form of branding will be prohibited in all institutions across the four kingdoms from this day forward.”

The reaction to those words was a thunderous roar that rattled the windows and shook the rafters. It took Qrow a moment to place the source, until it hit him that it was coming from outside. It was the massive crowd that had gathered on the lawn, all cheering so loudly that it was bouncing off the walls, amplifying the noise until it resonated more like a pride of lions triumphantly sounding off, letting their voices be heard.

Silenced no longer.

In the wake of it, Ozpin was almost inaudible as he finished, “This court is now adjourned. Qrow, you’re free to go.”

It took him a moment to get his legs to cooperate, relief turning his limbs to jelly as he swayed back over to the table. Both lawyers were quick to greet him.

Rhodes’ excitement was palpable in the way the pat he delivered to his back was enough to whoosh all the air from his lungs. “Come on Qrow, smile! You’re not walking out of here in handcuffs.”

“I know, I just… did that really just happen?” He questioned, half-expecting to wake up from the past five minutes and discover it was all just a dream.

“That it did. Hold it with pride that this was a well-earned victory.” Pietro congratulated, holding out a hand. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, my boy.”

For some reason, that was what finally got the tears to gather, though Qrow stubbornly tried not to let them fall as he shook the other’s hand. “Thank you. Both of you. I wouldn’t have had a chance without you.”

“Believe me when I say the thanks is all from us. Working on a case like this is something lawyers only dream of.” Rhodes replied. “I haven’t seen this old man so invigorated in years!”

“Now Rhodes, don’t make it seem so self-serving. Anybody with eyes could see Qrow was no criminal. In the end, it’s not the prestige that I’ll be holding onto, but the joy in seeing this young man walk free.” The elder admonished.

The battle was lost as the first tear slipped down his face, though Qrow was quick to wipe it away. “I-”

“Mr. Branwen! Can I get a statement?”

He started at the shout, seeing one of the reporters beelining towards him – though her call had drawn the attention and ravenousness of the others. Sharks, all of them.

Pietro mumbled quietly, “Rhodes, I believe Qrow needs to make a hasty exit.”

“Got it.” Before he could blink, the lawyer was pushing him between the cameras and the microphones, saying diplomatically as they went on by, “While I’m certain Mr. Branwen would love to answer all your questions, he has a rather important matter to attend too.” He would have sworn it was just a ruse meant to dissuade the press. But then they reached the doors, and Rhodes was leaning over, whispering in his ear, “Take a left, then go down the second hallway. You’ll find an elevator there. Tai’s on the second floor, room 218.”

The realization hit like a strike of lightning.

Right, no more cells. No more handcuffs. No more guards.

If he stepped out of this room, no one would stop him.

He was truly and wholly free to go.

Which meant…

“Go get him.”

Qrow hardly needed the push, feet pounding loudly on marble as he sprinted down the hallway, running faster than he ever had in his entire life. His shadow stretched alongside the wall beside him, cast by the falling sun outside that came through the floor to ceiling windows. A glance outside revealed the masses still celebrating. They were a sea of faces, indistinguishable in the dimming light, but their rapture was universal. Seen in the hugs being shared. Shoulders being cried on. In the group that had started to dance for no other reason than to share in each other’s joy.

Tomorrow, they’d remember the other battles still left to be fought, the inequalities still meant to be corrected – but today was for rejoicing, for reveling in one of the most monumental gains for omegakind in over fifty years.

Through the tinted windows, Qrow smiled to them before disappearing around the second corner without a single one of them ever knowing he was there.

Unseen as he always was meant to be.

~

The elevator was taking too long.

“Come on, come on.” Qrow pressed the button another half dozen times, tapping his foot impatiently. As he waited, he couldn’t help but wonder what Tai was doing right now. Was he still watching the newsreel on his scroll? Or was he standing by the window, watching the ongoing merry-making of his fellow omegas? Or maybe he was pacing the room, just as anxious to see him as Qrow himself was.

Gods above, he didn’t even know what he was going to say to him. All he knew was he needed to be with him, right now.

He stared at the light above the door like he could will it to light up.

Another few seconds passed and it remained offensively dark.

“Tch!” He scowled at it, rushing back into hallway, sprinting for the door at the end that had a sign marked “Fire Escape” on it. He sent a silent prayer that it wouldn’t be alarmed as he reached for the knob.

Only for it to swing open of its’ own accord.

Qrow’s heart jumped as he suddenly found himself staring back at Tai, disheveled and winded, on the other side. Like he’d just run the entire way here.

The omega took about a half-step out before his eyes blew wide as he realized who was standing in front of him. “Qrow! How did you – I mean, what are you doing?”

“Coming to find you.” Qrow rasped, swallowing a bit. “How ‘bout you?”

Tai’s scent spiked, nerves making it sharper, more prominent. “I, uh, same. Was trying to use the elevator but-”

“It was taking too long?” He guessed, a smile pulling at the edges of his lips.

“Yeah.” Tai said, beginning to grin along with him.

Then they were laughing, as it hit them that in their haste to see one another, they had done the exact same thing. Qrow’s amusement only grew, when he surmised that the reason the elevator was probably taking so long was because it was on Tai’s floor, waiting for the blond who already was long gone.

He was just starting to get ahold of himself, taking in a breath to speak, when a ding sounded off and voices and footsteps filled the hall. He glanced back, unease filling him as he recognized Robyn’s voice. Though he imagined she was probably going to join the festivities out front, if she spotted him, she’d surely want to catch a word. He wasn’t the only one to pick up on the issue, because Tai abruptly grabbed onto his wrist, yanking him into the stairwell. The door whispered shut behind them.

“Sorry, I just…” Tai trailed off, letting go.

Which was just unacceptable. Qrow reached out, capturing his hand in his and squeezing tightly. “I know. Me too.” The omega looked between their hands back to him.  “So… all this time?”

“I, yeah.” He sucked in a sharp breath, a swell of emotions caught in his tone, “I wanted to tell you so long ago. But, I just – Gods I don’t even know where to start.”

He hushed him soothingly, brushing away the tears threatening to fall. “Hey, none of that now. Remember what you told me before? Just because they’re your feelings for me doesn’t mean I own them.” That same hand quested further, winding around the back of his head to card through blond locks. “In fact, forget all that. I don’t need you to explain and by Gods do I not want you to apologize, for anything.” He lent forward, until their foreheads brushed and all they could see was each other. “I just want to know: This is really what you want? You want to be with me?”

Those beautiful blue eyes that Qrow’d seen be as turbulent as a stormy sea and as calm as an undisturbed lake stared back at him in a way he’d never quite seen before. They had softened to something strikingly warm and crystal clear, much like the beaches of Patch. Like home.

“Yes.” Tai resolutely replied, gentle and sweet. “Yes, I really do.”

Overwhelmed, Qrow could only bring him that much closer, promising against his lips reverently, “Okay. Then I’m yours,” before the distance between them closed.

Somewhere, the world was still turning around them. But for Qrow, his own had been off its axis for months now.

It was only in Tai’s lips against his that he felt it finally right itself once more.

~

It was still blissfully early in the workday when Qrow led his final customer back to the front of his shop, going through the care instructions like a mantra. “-And don’t forget, no direct sunlight until it’s fully healed. Got all that?”

“Yep!” Gretchen assured, her high voice giving an almost musical lyre to her words. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to get rid of all my stupid knee-high socks.”

Distracted by a random flutter of anxiety, his response came late, “Ah, don’t mention it.”

They walked into the lobby area – or, as he often jokingly referred to it, his art museum. The walls were covered in nothing but framed mementos of his work. Some were just drawn onto sketchbook paper, others were actual photos of past clients showing off their marks. The room was fairly sparse besides a small desk that had his itinerary for the year and a desk phone. A few chairs were also scattered about the room for friends or family of the client.

In one of them sat Gretchen’s brother, Hazel. Upon seeing them, the absolute mountain of an alpha got to his feet, trudging on over. “All done?”

“Uh-huh.” The woman launched herself at him and despite her petite size, Qrow could tell her hugs were rather large. “Thank you for paying for this.”

“I’m just glad it made you happy.” He said with complete sincerity, his own embrace lifting her off the ground.

Qrow had to wonder if it was like getting a hug from a grizzly bear. Still, the sight pulled a smile out of him. It was always reassuring, seeing his clients getting the support they deserved. “Call if anything doesn’t seem right, okay?”

“I will.” With a wave goodbye from Gretchen and a silent nod of gratitude from Hazel, the pair left his shop together, plans to visit the ice cream shop down the block trailing after them.

He locked the door behind them, a sense of anticipation rolling through him. It was rare he got to close up shop before sundown on a Friday and he was looking forward to a nice, relaxing weekend at home. He worked out the stiffness in his neck and wrist as he went about the motions of preparing for the following week. The pen was taken apart and dropped into the ultrasonic cleaner. While the cycle ran, he settled back out front to make a few calls, confirming Monday’s appointments.  Next, he checked the inks, refilling the black and blue that had begun to run low. By the time he was done with that, the cleaner was done and he reassembled the pen, storing it away in its’ kit.

After that, there was nothing left to do but pull out his scroll and text Tai.

Early night at the shop. Should be home by six.

He felt the response in another wave of anxiety well before he heard the jingle from his device. Just getting dinner started. See you soon.

Qrow hesitated, tempted not for the first time today to just ask what was up with his mate, but like every other time, he pushed the selfish desire down.

After they’d bonded, he and Tai had established early on that neither of them wanted the other to drop everything to be at each other’s beck and call whenever they felt a hint of a negative emotion. It was too stifling and, when it came right down to it, too insulting. He didn’t need Tai in his ear while dealing with an ornery customer any more than Tai needed him at his side every time one of his coworkers got on his nerves. They both wanted to feel trusted, not coddled.

So, curiosity wasn’t a great reason to break that trust.

Whatever was making Tai feel so jittery, he knew he’d tell him when he was ready. Until then…

Could pick something up on the way home, if you’d rather. He offered.

The reply was just a picture of their kitchen counter, spread with the familiar ingredients for his favorite curry dish, followed by a cheeky, You sure?

He folded quicker than a bad poker hand. Forget I said anything.

Tai just sent back a bunch of laughing faces.

Qrow took it as a good sign.

~

Harbinger’s Tattoo Parlor was located in a small shopping center in central Patch, easy to find even for the farthest of travelers. It was also a convenient fifteen-minute drive from the forest-entwined cabin Qrow called home. The trees acted like a natural privacy fence, with only a winding dirt road the only way in. Driving in, the home seemed to glisten in the late afternoon light, a recent coat of timber stain having given the logs a dazzling sheen, making the decades-old structure appear newer than it was. Little planters of sunflowers and daisies surrounded the front and eastern sides of the home, adding a serene splash of color to the dwelling. He gave the blooms an appraising eye as he continued down the path to the backyard, parking by the shed.

No sooner after he’d cut the engine and started making his way towards the house, did the door burst open and his nieces came flocking out.

“Hi uncle!” Yang said, snatching the keys as she went. “Bye uncle!”

He blinked down at his empty hand. “Hey, wait!”

“Love you!” Ruby dropped a kiss to his cheek, bouncing on by with a few colorful giftbags swinging on her arms and a bundle of fur clutched between her hands.

“You’re taking Zwei too?!”

Already halfway in the driver’s seat, the younger alpha shouted back, a clear tease in her tone, “Thought you didn’t like the ‘mangy mutt’?”

“I don’t – was just hoping you were leaving him there!” He retaliated, waving a hand behind him as he headed inside. “Have fun. And don’t crash my car.”

The roar of the vehicle coming to life drowned out whatever response they may have given him. He counted his blessings the Valkyrie residence was only a few houses away as he watched them peel away before stepping into the kitchen. The sound that greeted him was the swishing of a wooden spoon mixing food into a skillet, the heat up high to bring it to a shimmer.

“Welcome home!”  Tai greeted with an unusual amount of enthusiasm.

Unsure if it was wise to address it or not, Qrow erred on the side of caution as he strode over with nothing more than a casual, “Hey sunshine.”

He waited until the omega had set the cover down on the pan, before gathering him up in his arms and pulling him back against his chest. When that was met with no resistance, he nuzzled against the side of his neck. After being surrounded by a variety of different scents, it was nice to be enveloped by only his mate’s earthy aroma.

“Mm, how was your day?” Tai asked as turned in his grasp to return the gesture.

Qrow tilted his head back to allow him. “Good. Finished off Gretchen’s mark today.”

“The one who wanted the gingerbread house?”

“Yeah.” He shivered a bit as lips brushed against his bond mark, the scarring having left the area extra sensitive. “How was yours?”

Another spike both in his gut and in Tai’s scent. But his mate only brushed it off with a chuckle. “Oh you know my students, they always like to kid around.”

He groaned, nipping his ear in retribution. “No.”

That got him a more honest laugh. Tai wiggled free, turning away to start cleaning up the dishes and spices he’d left out. “It was math and movie day, so nothing interesting to report.”

With his back turned, he couldn’t see the way Qrow frowned. He’d hoped once they were in the same room together, Tai would open up. Now, he had no idea what was going on. Unless…

He eyed the skillet, his favorite dish still bubbling away underneath the top. It wasn’t unusual for him to make it, but after a long, tiring week at work, slaving over a stove was the last thing either of them wanted to do. Usually, they had pizza or leftovers or something quick and easy. Tai deciding to do something special reeked of him trying to butter him up for something.

Then, there was the oddity of the girls’ bringing Zwei along for a birthday party. Fun as the puppy was, he was also a lot of work and Qrow really couldn’t see a group of teenagers willingly wanting to spend an entire weekend watching him. Especially when he couldn’t get his own to clean their rooms.

Which meant, either they’d been bribed or Tai had been.

“Really, nothing at all?” Despite his mounting suspicion, he kept his tone casual, crossing over to the fridge to fetch himself a drink.

Another clench in his gut. Another lie on Tai’s tongue. “Yeah. It was just another normal day.”

Normal his ass. Qrow pulled out a beer, cracking it open and kicking the fridge door shut all in one motion. He swore to the Gods, if all this was over some new mutt hiding out in their shed, he was going to lose it.

Tai passed him on the way to the sink, pausing just long enough to drop a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

…But, he supposed he could play along.

~

“Want dessert?”

The call from the kitchen roused him and Qrow’s eyes slipped back open.

He had long ago kicked off his shoes and his ankles were crossed over the coffee table while he lounged back on the couch. The T.V. was playing the latest episode of All Our Life but he’d long ago tuned out whatever comedy the campy sitcom was trying to pull. It had been going downhill ever since Season 3 anyways. Tai must have felt the same, if he’d decided to clear the dishes instead of waiting for the credit roll.

“What are we having?” He yelled back, hitting the power button on the remote with his toe. Maybe they could put on a movie instead.

“Tried and true!”

He snorted. “Sure.”

There was a clack as the pantry opened and closed. The nerves had spiked again, bad enough Qrow had to take a few deep breathes. He sat up straight, bracing himself for the ‘news’. He’d already planned out his reaction. He couldn’t wait to yank Tai’s chain over adopting yet another mangy menace for them to care for – even if he was going to give in in the end.

“Oh, that reminds me, I thought of a great joke.” Tai said as he came back into the room.

Oh Gods, this was how he was going to tell him? Forget it. The furball was going back to pound. “Great is relative with you.”

“Oh hush up and listen! So, what did the bumblebee say to the sugar ant on his birthday?”

His brow furrowed, confused. That didn’t really lead to ‘puppy’ or ‘kitty’. “I don’t know, what?”

“He said,” Tai replied as he tossed him the packaged cupcake, winking as he did, “Boy, this sure is a sweet gift!”

“Ha. Ha. I’m just dying over here.” He deadpanned, ripping open the plastic.

Qrow waited for the rest of the punchline to come, but his mate only dropped down next to him, saying nothing even as his anxiety skyrocketed. Alright. Still not ready then.

He sighed softly, tugging out the cupcake, removing the cardboard bottom.

And froze.

“Speaking of gifts…”

Tai’s voice seemed to come from far away, barely tugging away Qrow’s focus as it centered on the little square in his hand.

Flecks of chocolate had clung to it, but it wasn’t enough to block out the words written on it in happy, yellow ink:

We’re pregnant.

“We’re… You’re…” He stilted out, mind whirling as he looked at his mate, “We’re gonna have…?”

Tai was biting his lip, but it didn’t quite tame the growing smile as he nodded.

Love and affection surged so strongly in Qrow’s heart, Tai’s eyes started to water. The omega was laughing by the time Qrow had dropped the things in his hands to instead pull him into his arms, hugging him as tight as he could. He rained kisses and adoration along the other’s face. “I love you. I love you so much. My Gods. We’re really having a pup?”

“Uh-huh.” Tai swiped away some tears budding in Qrow’s eyes now, even as more fell from his own, the emotions growing between their bond intense and overwhelming. “Found out this morning. I’ve been waiting all day to tell you.”

“I knew you were freaking out about something. But I thought you were gonna tell me we were getting another dog!”

Tai guffawed loudly. “Of course not! Unless…”

“No!!”

He only dissolved into more hysterics. Qrow was soon to follow, the joy contagious.

~

It was hard to know how long they stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, but eventually they found themselves sprawled together on the couch, talking long into the night about all the little wonders their future now held. From how they’d break the news to Ruby and Yang to how they wanted to decorate the spare room when it became a nursery, there was so much to think about. But rather than feel worried, Qrow only had anticipation in his heart.

“I can’t believe you thought I’d freak out.” He remarked, smoothing soothing circles along his mate’s back.

Tai rose a bit from where he was resting on his clavicle. “I mean, I know we talked about it here and there, but we hadn’t exactly planned this.”

“Sunshine, I dunno where you’ve been the past two decades, but nothing in my life was something I planned out.”

“That’s not-!” The omega paused his own argument, adding humbly, “…entirely true.”

He snorted. “Good save.” He carded a hand through blond locks. “Look. A few years ago, I never even dreamed I’d ever have you, let alone the chance to make a family with you. So, no matter how it happened, I definitely don’t need a plan to know I want this. Don’t you?”

“More than anything.” Tai confirmed, ducking his head. “In fact I… couldn’t help but think this was a do over. That this time I’d get to raise a child without interruption from, well, anything.”

Sorrow skimmed over their connection, almost unnoticeable. Old hurts from broken hearts and cruel injustices, things that had healed with time but never forgotten in how they hurt.

Qrow pressed a kiss to his forehead, murmuring, “Third time’s the charm?”

“Heh, guess it is. Though,” His expression turned teasing, “Aren’t you a bit of a bad luck charm, Mr. Crow?”

He groaned, dropping his head back against the armrest of the couch. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Tai pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “That’s the crime of loving me.”

“Well, if that’s the case, lock me up and throw away the key.” He declared like the delinquent he was.

“And you say I have bad jokes.”

“You do. I, on the other hand,” He said, gesturing grandly, “am an artiste.”

Tai’s chuckles were a victory all on their own.

But the reward was in the kiss that followed, devotion intertwining through the bond.

Qrow tilted his head, giving back as much as he was given. His left hand clenched onto the back of Tai’s shirt, where just underneath rested the colorful tapestry that once was the symbol of a new start. Now, it lay with his right hand’s caress to the side of Tai’s belly where their child was steadily and surely growing.

A new beginning that they’d embrace together.

[96thdayofrage]

20 Years of Post-9/11 Amnesia

Memories of the last 20 years are rarely focused on increased state violence and repression in the post-9/11 world. The damage has largely been forgotten.

The constant demand that we “Never forget!,” the events of September 11, 2001 is rather laughable. Forgetting is difficult after enduring 20 years of war propaganda. News stories about that day are plentiful albeit useless, that is to say they add nothing to our understanding of why the U.S. was attacked and depend upon sentiment, jingoism, and tried and true claims of exceptionalism to maintain fear, hatred, and support for war.

The aftermath of September 11 gets surprisingly short shrift but it is just as important as the who, what, when, where, why, and how of that date. It was just three days later that the Senate and House of Representatives voted to begin what are now called the forever wars. On September 14, 2001 California’s congresswoman Barbara Lee cast the lone vote against the Authorization for Use of Military Force. It gave George W. Bush broad authority to “use all necessary and appropriate force against those nations, organizations, or persons he determines planned, authorized, committed, or aided the terrorist attacks that occurred on September 11, 2001…”

The 9/11 event isn’t forgotten, but the near universal approval of the attack on Afghanistan is rarely mentioned now. The corrosive impact of that war on international and domestic law is also swept under the rug. In the past 20 years presidents have claimed the right to kill anyone they claim is a threat, deny the right to civilian trials, and gather and keep electronic information on everyone in the United States. These assaults on human rights have been largely forgotten, as the shock of the day turned otherwise intelligent people into supporters of aggression.

Thanks to the state’s collusion with corporate media, there was even an unwillingness to find out how the attacks were carried out and ascertain who in Bush’s administration should have known what was going to happen. During that summer of 2001, Attorney General John Ashcroft refused to fly on commercial airlines. He obviously knew there was a threat.

Black Agenda Report’s Glen Ford was one of many eyewitnesses to strange activity on the day in question. He recounted meeting two men in Jersey City, New Jersey watching the towers burn. They claimed to be Polish but spoke Hebrew, had fake press passes, brand new cameras, and a joyful attitude about the unfolding tragedy. There were other reports about Israelis ostensibly working for a moving company who also watched the towers fall and celebrated as they did. These documented incidents inconvenience the official narrative and were given insufficient attention by the government and their friends in media.

The shamefully inadequate 9/11 commission didn’t take place until months later. George W. Bush and his national security team garnered fawning media attention but hardly any scrutiny about what they knew and how the attacks were carried out. No one was fired, no one resigned, and hard questions were eschewed in favor of deference to the people who failed their country so badly.

Even when there was reporting on links between Osama bin Laden, the U.S. government, and the Saudi royal family, the stories cast suspicion everywhere except where it should have been directed. They rarely delved into bin Laden’s beginnings as an ally of the U.S. in the Afghanistan regime change effort, and his ties to the Saudi allies that would have embarrassed the Bush family and the entire foreign policy apparatus. It is true that bin Laden relatives and Saudi royals were whisked out of the country when airspace was shut down for everyone else. But tales of evil Arabs predominated instead of real reporting which would have asked hard questions about every president from Jimmy Carter onward who funded jihadists like bin Laden as proxies for U.S. foreign policy designs.

By all means let us remember. Remember the drone strikes, the kill lists, the Abu Ghraib torture, and the Guantanamo Bay prison where men still languish after 20 years. Remember that the rush to war in 2001 was followed by the invasion of Iraq in 2003. Remember that Secretary of State Colin Powell lied at the United Nations about non-existent weapons of mass destruction. Remember that even our popular culture has been impacted, and that film makers are given access to classified documents if they agree to produce pro-torture propaganda. The New York Times wouldn’t even print the word torture if the U.S. was the perpetrator. “Harsh interrogation techniques” and other such euphemisms were substitutes for the truth.

Twenty years later the U.S. is a changed country and not for the better. Congress still gives presidents broad authority to bomb, change foreign governments at will, and sanction any country that becomes a target. Regime change is acceptable as long as U.S. troops aren’t directly involved in the dirty work. The media follow suit and citizens who object to wars of terror and a growing surveillance state are marginalized. Even politicians who call themselves progressive go along to get along and eagerly vote to support a defense budget that is now more than $750 billion.

Memories are limited to September 11, 2001 and not to what happened afterward. The attacks were a pretext for doing what the imperialists always wanted. Glen Ford put his strange experience in perspective. “In effect, Washington was claiming revenge as the motive for crimes that it had long been planning to commit. Precise causality for the specific events of 9/11 becomes near-irrelevant, submerged in the much larger aggression that was conceived long before the towers fell.”

It is little wonder that there is so much confusion about the world we live in now. War, austerity, and inequality were just what the ruling class ordered. They needed a war against humanity and they have been waging it for the last 20 years. If there are going to be shared memories about post-9/11 life, that harsh truth must be among them.

Margaret Kimberley’s Freedom Rider column appears weekly in BAR, and is widely reprinted elsewhere. She is the author of Prejudential: Black America and the Presidents . Her work can also be found at patreon.com/margaretkimberley   and on Twitter @freedomrideblog. Ms. Kimberley can be reached via e-Mail at Margaret.Kimberley(at)BlackAgendaReport.com.

[ladylesso]

thea gushes over kate's "alex vs the school for good" fanfic

i've reread this fanfic twice before it was finished but now it's finished, therefore i will read this beautiful work of art a third time and i have no regrets because this is the best fanfic in the entire fandom and i love kate so let's go (u never asked for it but here it is @pumpkinpaperweight)

i love how alex's close relationship with her parents, especially tedros, is already established within the first scene

alex is so witty and her mind is so sharp i've missed her so much :')

alex ribbin on tedros and agatha laughin as a sign of encouragement is my favorite thing

chapter 3: hooray for teenage angst

I STILL CAN'T GET OVER THE FACT THAT TEDROS NAMED HIS DOG CHICKEN THAT IS SUCH A TEDROS THING TO DO

will there be a one shot on the multiple ooty ambassor incidents????? i am Excited

"...and the author of this tale had lost their copy of The School for Good and Evil, and therefore could not remember exactly what the School for Good was meant to look like. They were running entirely off memory, and not doing a bad job, all things considered." KATE AKSKSJDKLFJ

get this: what if the camelot years were just a fever dream and alex vs is canon. what if.

chapter 10: these dogs are still alive for plot devices and comic relief don't @ me

marcy girl chill out

omg dean cromwell vs alex wearing the boys' uniform scene - iconic and sora-approved

oh my god i actually thought sophie stopping thorne was a scene in the actual books instead of in alex vs skdjkdfs

i love kate's adult! sophie - very realistic and in character

chapter 13: HA! GAY!

talib and sora my babies my precious my lovelies

"talib grinned, looking back in the direction of the classroom - sora kept looking at him and missed a step on the stairs" gay

chapter 15: my gran could do better, and she killed a warlock with a cheesecake - I LOVE THE CHAPTER TITLES SO MUCH

alex is so precious why are people being so mean to her :'( sora and i will happily burn them alive

"chaddick and lancelot always smacked her with the butt of the sword to signify a hit, but tedros had tended to sort of half-heartedly shove her off of the mat, unwilling to hurt her" tedros being a good and caring soft dad :')

"alex, what does your dad have?" "low self-esteem?" JESUS ALEX SKDFJLSDJFLJFSLDJ

"alex's temper was utterly uncontrollable, and hort didn't know how he'd forgotten- now it was all rushing back to him in one big, rather traumatic, wave" I'M LAUGHING

omg four year old alex defending her father i'm heart eyes

#i don't like this cromwell bat bring dovey back

"sora's brain was still trying to work out which panic he should prioritise more -the super deadly predators trotting at his feet, or the fact that talib was holding his hand?" Gay

seeing alex cry is like seeing a friend crying - it makes you sad and murderous

"we have been in so many fights.” said alex tiredly. “i wish our author would think of something else. but she won’t, it’s the Trial by Tale next, and that’s all fighting” KATE

chapter 21: EMMA, THEY'RE HOMOSEXUALS

"sora had snatched nadiya’s handkerchief and thrown it to talib like a maid watching her favourite knight" [crying] i would kill a small child for them

sora and alex trying to hide behind each other at the same time is makin me burst into hysterics

oooo sora bout to murder a bitch

sophie acting like an actual dean :')

nadiya's such a queen we stan

june being friends with talib and fondly calling him an idiot is my new religion

alex saying she's the "loser daughter" and me knowing that tedros and agatha are watching her right now hurts. thanks a lot kate

june and thorne???? ship????

omg sora laying it on thick and pretending to be unconscious so talib could carry him sldjsdlkfjdslf

SORA COMPLIMENTING TALIB ON HOW BEAUTIFUL HE LOOKS IN FRONT OF THEIR CLASSMATES

"my darling angel prince" that's Gay "sora fiddled with talib's collar" GAYYYYY

"gentle marital dispute" i adore kate's humor

TALIB PUNCHING THORNE TO PROTECT SORA

"wow,” said sora dreamily.

“he just punched someone in the face, sora,” sighed marcy.

“i’m dying, not blind. that was hot--”

im going to have a heart attack

sora dragging tedros is my new favorite thing

"sora smiled in a very self-satisfied sort of way, almost as if he knew the annoyance he’d caused several hundred miles away" this is sora's true talent

i love how alex breaks the 4th wall

sora: i don't know whether you've noticed, alex, but i can be really rude?

alex: ur not that rude to me

sora: because i thought it might make u cry

:') i love their friendship so much

yes alex! call him out! sora IS emotionally constipated!

omg im curious as to what color alex's fingerglow is

OMG ALEX'S TALENT IS RELATED TO AGATHA'S I LOVE IT

newsflash cromwell! we don't care about ur reputation OR you

alex clutching onto her aunt's arm :'(

awwwwhhh alex w curly hair!! <3

talib is the sweetest boy ever oh my goodness

OH MY GOD HE'S A PISCES OF COURSE KSJFSDJF SOFT BOY

sora is an aquarius HAHA suits him

alex's dramatic entrances are clearly from sophie's influence :')

talib gifting sora roses that's Gay

sora foreshadowing how ros and raiden will get along >:)

sora is a grumpy old man in a 16 year old body but WILL eat his friend's questionably edible birthday cake made for him don’t test him

TALIB AND SORA KISSING QUEEN KATE REALLY DELIVERS

SORA MAKING THE FIRST MOVE I AM SCREECHING I AM GOING TO BITE MY ARM OFF

oh my go d talib don't go ohmygod kate why

OMG ROSALINE POV I'M EXCITED

agatha planning a wrestling match with her and tedros vs cromwell and agatha confirming that the coven have spilled blood over june and will not hesitate to do it again is my favorite thing

if u look closely or if u look at all, ros is clearly a never

tedros: i don't have favorites

agatha: i do. you're my least favorite

tedros: i'm ur husband

agatha: so?

omg alex is tedros' favorite and marcus is agatha's favorite so does that mean ros is sophie's favorite

and now we're in marcus' POV? kate just keeps delivering

omg the famous camelot family scene i've been waiting for is finally coming to fruition

it's official: we stan emi

whenever i hear somebody call agatha the queen of camelot, i get this tight ache of pride in my chest

i love how marcus just looks at his father and tedros knows exactly what he's asking :')

raiden and the twins, marcus and ros? my Body is Ready for ros vs

WHAT IS IT WITH PEOPLE SLAMMING THE DOOR OPEN IN THIS FANFIC KSHFDJFSLJLJ

anemone campaigning for a ranking board that says who has the hots for who is something i can get behind

"there was a brief scuffle whilst both tedros and agatha fought to hug alex at the same time, which she didn't look in the least bothered about" ALEX FAMILY TIME YAY <3

alex introducing agatha, her famous mother, to her roommates is one of my favorite things

"alex stuck her tongue out at her and went back to rifling in her mother's cloak pockets for food" if this isn’t me -

alex being a wingwoman to make her mom sign marcy's copy of the tale of sophie and agatha is my favorite thing #1972934794

talib not recoginizing tedros as the king of camelot but as alex's dad :')

THE COLD SHOULDER SMOULDER

i love how ros could tell how much a fashion piece costs and what material it is just by looking at it

"there was a resounding crash, and another blade caught his, halfway" i love how tedros entered into this chapter kate is such a good writer

im lovin these marcus and ros descriptions

"rosalind and marcus looked at each other, then, slowly, back at jimmy. both of them suddenly looked a lot older than they were. raiden wondered how much damage they could do as a team. probably quite a lot" "raiden resisted the urge to squish marcus's cheeks" ROS VS HERE I COME

sophie rushing bc she senses drama is a big mood

omg i love these camelot year references

"...whilst tedros tried to pretend he hadn't just tried to shove agatha behind him, and awkwardly returned Excalibur to its sheath" his instincts :')

people mentioning that alex is a big sister makes me feel warm inside

the image of tedros braiding rosalind's hair gives me heart eyes

OMG GIN MILLS AND THE GOODS REFERENCE HAHA I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE KATE

im glad they're talking about alex and the reverse mogrification incident! i am also Intrigued

wait i thought ros and marcus were 10 years old? but agatha mentions how ros is 13? did i miss something

alex and hester aunt and niece relationship :')

this unspoken understanding between the pendragons is everything bless u kate

"i love it when Evers act like Nevers," emi told her grandsons from under her tree. “it’s good for the liver.”

EMI KNOWS ROS IS A NEVER SHE CALLED IT

oh alex u sweet darling child of course sora and talib are boyfriends even thorne could see it

this alex and thorne thing? gotta say,,,,,, i see the ship possibilities

SORA YOU EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED BUFFOON JUST TALK TO YOUR BOYFRIEND TALIB OH MY GOD

omg the everboys sitting in the beautification lesson im excited

emma,,,,... darling,,,,.........,,, they're Gay

i support alex's plan to look hot for the snow ball and single-handedly destroy the buffet

i love how tyler and marcy are in the squad now :')

anemone: WHO

talib: i'm not telling u!

anemone: WHICH GIRL

talib: not a - not a. uh, girl

anemone: I RESPECT THAT ALSO

tyler, nadiya, and marcy quietly discussing alex's type LKSDJFLSJFK

sora im bout to body slam u talk to ur bf u idiot donkey don't be like teenage tedros and agatha

"akiyama sora is a dead man," muttered nadiya" i bow to one (1) queen

SORA'S GAY PANIC

chapter 29: fellas is it gay to protect roses from winter damage

"poor thing,” she added as an afterthought. alex was forcibly reminded of her aunt’s 100% Evil status"

i love these scenes with sophie <3

"er. it's okay, professor," said sora's mouth. alex for the love of christ help me you useless git, said sora's eyes"

FINALLY SORA YOUR TWO BRAIN CELLS KISSED AND EXPERIENCED COMMON SENSE

alex saying marcy has horrible taste in men but swearing to take tyler's kidneys if he doesn't go for marcy - true friendship

AWWWWHHHHHH ALEX CAME UP WITH THE IDEA FOR THE EVERGIRLS WHO DON'T WANT DATES TO GO TO THE SNOW BALL WITH ANEMONE <333333

anemone just said the f word is this legal

the amount of times i've screamed over sora nd talib is too much to count - sometimes in excitement and sometimes in pain

"he was cut off when talib seized his collar and kissed him, much harder than sora had kissed him the first time" my lungs are exploding

ANEMONE IS ME I AM ANEMONE

"sora exercised all the curse words he knew in her native language. alex grinned. "you sound like ros. except ros knows more words" oh??????????

i've smiled more reading chapter 29 than i have this whole year

sora: weren't u listening to the announcement yesterday

alex: who was doing the announcing?

sora: pollux

alex: nope

love that tedros deemed his wedding outfit a Sacred Object

i love how tedros and rosalind bond over fashion

alex has a daily ritual of high-fiving the statue of king arthur, her grandfather. i love her.

omg tedros adopting a pseudo father figure role over tyler love that

i said love so many times but i can't help it this fic is just too good

it's official: sora is alex's partner in crime

so just to catch up, the squad consists of alex, nadiya, sora, talib, tyler, marcy, and june - and out of this chaos rises a mom friend: nadi

i never knew how much i wanted to see the teachers gossiping until i got it

of course agatha never hired a nanny for her children she loves them too much to ever not raise them herself >:((((((

magazine with a pic of talib: major hottie alert!

sora: finally, some high-end journalism

kate ur mind is amazing

omg i love this curses! the musical plot point im excited

ros? as the queen of camelot? Sign Me Up

SORA ND ALEX WROTE THE SCRIPT KSJFSDLJFSLD HERE WE GO

alex is drawing a six pack on her stomach with a pen to prepare for her role as tedros somebody please help me my lungs have ruptured 

title reference on a crop top!! impressive!!

"MORE PANACHE !" sophie bellowed at the stage" did soman write this or did u kate

is marcus on the autism spectrum???? it would be great if he was

"alex said a quick prayer to rosalind, patron saint of spinning half-truths to people and getting away with it"

im grinning so hard at agatha possibly dying of laughter during alex's rendition of curses! the musical

"tedros made a sound like an animal in pain and sank down so low in his seat that he was barely visible. agatha burst into hysterical cackles, reminding ros, not for the first time, that she had been raised by an actual witch" "'tedros' and 'hort' had a rap battle that ended up getting too personal and devolved into a fistfight" AGATHA AND I ARE BOTH GOING TO DIE

"she turned around, saw tedros stood behind her, and screamed. tedros held up the programme, open on the page which said rewritten by akiyama sora and alex pendragon. alex screamed louder."

i adore the news' headlines

what's on the school master's mind??????????

omg is it about marcus and ros??

YES IT IS SKFDSJFL

chinhae is ros' friend and both of their names were circled in red bc the school master has a plan for them. whoaaaaaa

"slowly, she turned back to look up at the school master's tower. and got the distinct feeling someone was meeting her gaze" chills

finished 1:06 AM june 14, 2020

[helianthus21]

Heli’s Fix-It Rec List

So a while ago I was asking for some fix-its for the Casifer storyline and got some amazing recs. And because they were all so good for my bitter heart, I decided to compile a list of spn fix-it recs by the season. The hashtags give info about whether the fic is gen or has a ship (which would be Destiel bc. you know me) and what issue the fic is trying to resolve or fix, as well as other things that I thought should be mentioned.

Here we go:

Season 8

A Room Of One’s Own by NorthernSparrow All Dean wants is a little privacy. Cas doesn't understand.

#destiel #explicit #post-s6 guilt #closure for godstiel

Season 9

Human Perspective by skydark Post 8x23 AU.  After the fall Dean realizes he's not trying teach Castiel to be human for purely selfless reasons; he hopes to gain something from it, too.

#destiel #human!Cas #endgame angel!cas #trueforms #team free heaven

There Are Many Things by imogenbynight In which Dean and Castiel learn, through trial and error, how to be together.

#destiel #9x03 #human!cas

My heart is beating from me by Enochian Things (Salr323) After Rexford, Castiel tries to live a normal life and Dean tries to let him go...  But nothing’s ever that easy.(Canon divergent from s9e06 “Heaven Can’t Wait”)

#destiel #human!cas #Daphne Allen #suicidal thoughts

Forgotten by NorthernSparrow Sam and Dean are working a case in Wyoming, but are distracted by news of a dangerous angel called "Castiel" who they can't remember ever having heard of before. The name seems a little bit familiar, but neither of the boys is sure why.

#gen fic #team free will #amnesia #human!cas #you will cry ur eyes out #i’m not kidding

Flight by NorthernSparrow Sequel to Forgotten. A/U from mid season 9. Castiel is human and wounded, and Dean and Sam need to get his grace back - and his wings. Things do not go as intended and Cas faces a difficult road. 

#destiel #team free will #wing fic #suicidal thoughts #Sam/OFC #you will sob

Season 10

Playing With Fire by aini-nufire When Charlie unearths the Book of the Damned, she draws the attention of the notorious Styne family, who will stop at nothing to get it back. And even with the help of an angel and a phoenix, the Winchesters might have bitten off more than they can chew…

#gen fic #Charlie lives

The Forever Crown by whichstiel Charlie's back on earth after being dead for over a year. As she investigates her mysterious resurrection, something lurks near her old Michigan stomping grounds.

#Charlie lives #Charlie/Gilda

The Most Important Thing by NorthernSparrow Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).

#destiel #amnesia #team free will #Cas & Claire

Season 11

What is Hidden, What is Seen by ExpatGirl The Darkness has descended, and Castiel must make a choice. What, in reality, is the nature of Free Will, and where does love end and self-effacement begin? And why didn't Castiel know about the Mark of Cain and its relation to The Darkness in the first place? This began as a one-shot called "The Hanged Man" and has turned into...something else.

#destiel #s11 rewrite #Charlie lives #Hannah lives #Cas deserved better #trueform

Pieces by Castiel_For_King Castiel switched places with the Devil to give the world one last chance.  Almost a year after taking his place in the cage, Sam and Dean finally manage to get him out.  Unfortunately, some pieces got left behind.

#post-casifer #trauma recovery #wing fic #team free will #temporary amnesia

There’s An Angel In These Woods by Castiel_For_King "It had hurt, Dean remembered.  It had hurt deeply whenever he would snap out of worry or raise his voice in frustration and Cas would shrink away from him with fear flashing in his eyes and move instinctively towards Sam – where he felt safe, away from the threat, away from Dean.  It was that – seeing Cas looking at him like he was the dangerous thing that made his wings tremble and spread – which had been the driving force behind Dean’s quest to temper his ingrained reflexes and make an effort to act less like…well, a hunter.  Because he’d only just recently learned that it made Cas feel like prey.  Even if the angel didn’t understand what it was that he was feeling."

#destiel #post-casifer #trauma recovery #wing fic #team free will #Jesse/Cesar

Favorite Son by aini-nufire Coda to 11x18: Amara's plan to get God's attention works.Now with follow-up chapter after 11x20

#post-casifer #gen fic #team free will #Chuck & Cas

We Band of Brothers by LadyWallace S11 AU—Amara must be defeated, but Sam and Dean can’t do it alone, thus some unexpected help arrives in the newly resurrected archangels. But figuring out how to save Cas and Lucifer from Amara and creating a trap that will hold her might be too much to handle. Will they survive the final fight, or will the world fall into Darkness? Gen-No Slash

#gen fic #casifer #team free will #angel brothers

Three Angels Walk Into A Bar by 29-pieces Lucifer can't take on Amara by himself. Michael is useless, but there's another archangel that he might turn to - one who is none too happy about his big brother parading around in Castiel's body. Oh, or that whole thing where Cas is being tortured instead of left alone. Even if they beat Amara, how are they supposed to rescue Cas when the Devil holds all the cards? S11 AU

#gen fic #casifer #team free will #angel brothers

Season 12

The Choice by aini-nufire Post 12x19 “The Future” - It takes them a year to find Cas.

#brain washing #gen fic #team free will

The Sum Of My Regrets by procasdeanating “A quick trip to the past, that’s all. Look Cas, I know we can’t do anything about all the innocent people getting into the crossfire of our battles, but this I can do. Let me rescue this child and give Lily Sunder back her life. What can possibly go wrong?” In which Dean Winchester travels through time, learns a thing or two about best laid plans and falls in love with an angel – all over again.

#destiel #minor character undeath #cas in a female vessel #Lily Sunder

[cornerstorebitch]

okay now u gotta go into detail on ur opinion about both of them

god ok. this is gonna be a big wall of text.

the first thing i have to say about sandy hook is this: there is a very hard and fast distinction to be made between adam lanza and other school shooters. i think it’s fundamentally an unfair comparison to talk about sandy hook versus other school shootings. sandy hook is truly the only school shooting i would point to as an example of mental illness being the clear precipitating factor & there’s countless evidence you can point to for this but i think the simplest is in the fact that, as far as any of his writing indicates, the motivation in sandy hook was based in a paranoid delusion and not in the rage and vengeance (against classmates, parents, teachers, ex girlfriends, society) that is generally the hallmark of school shootings. he was also a lifelong anorexic, significantly agoraphobic especially as he got older, and wrote extensively about pedophillia in both a positive and negative light (my point in mentioning that last part being that he was most likely abused as a child, especially when you factor in the childhood anorexia). adam lanza is 100% an exception to the general trait markers of school shooters or mass shooters in general and i think it’s insane to talk about sandy hook in conjunction with columbine or the other more recent one whose name is escaping me in this moment (the one that had snapchat videos documenting some of it in, i believe, florida).

this is the other thing i have to say about sandy hook and if conspiracy talk rustles your jimmies plug your ears i suppose: sandy hook is the lone example of a school shooting that is genuinely highly fishy. i am not referring to so called actors or faking deaths or anything like that but i AM referring to the strange behavior of the officials and other adults involved (the medical examiner & the man who apparently harbored some the kids during the shooting especially), the contradictory accounts of what happened / who the shooter was / how many shooters there were, and the extreme implausibility of a 95 lbs mentally ill ~20 year old managing to kill 26 people via almost entirely clean headshots in 6 minutes (from the first gunshot). so chew on that, i guess.

as far as casey anthony goes, like the wm3, this is a perfect example of a case that will never be solved due to media bias and interference and police misconduct. i can talk all day long about the timeline of events and what i think actually happened but this is what i really want to say about the casey anthony case - the prosecution stupidly gambled hard on a capital murder charge despite at NO POINT having any solid forensic evidence directly implicating casey anthony or proving premeditation beyond reasonable doubt.

most people misremember the trial as having been very damning for casey anthony when in fact it immediately became apparent that the longer the prosecution talked, and the more they allowed her family members to talk, the less likely it looked that she was capable of pulling off a premeditated cold blooded murder for the simple reason that she and her family are completely off their fucking rocker.

this was compounded by the fact that the only significant forensic evidence they had, caylee’s body, had been tampered with and moved not once, not twice, but a MINIMUM of three times. the prosecution’s entire case relied on the placement of a piece of duct tape on the corpse and without that they could not prove premeditated murder. obviously you cannot say where the duct tape was originally and all the other forensic evidence (the ‘foul smell’ in her truck, caylee’s hair with an apparent decomp ring, her search history) became absolutely useless without that. had they charged her with a lesser murder charge, such as negligent homicide, they almost certainly would’ve convicted her.

one thing that will always bother me about this case - casey anthony has a brother who originally was on the side of the prosecution and either did or had intended to testify against her (i don’t remember if he did or not) but at some point mid trial he abruptly switched sides to the defense, allegedly upon finding out “something” about the case, though it’s unclear what exactly that was. it’s always seemed to me that there’s very one big obvious puzzle piece missing in all of this that i can’t put my finger on and i would bet money that whatever her brother found out is exactly what it is.

[wafflewarriors]

The Not-So French Mistake

Chapter 2: Reluctant Researching

Castiel awoke drowsily, his back and legs cramped from his contortion against the wall, a blanket draped over him. His thoughts were slow, and he recognized Dean’s shape, which had deflated into a dormant state in the desk chair while the sun was peeking over the horizon steadily.

The girl, who was splayed along the couch, stirred beside Castiel, who was currently accompanying the floor. Her stable, slow breaths vivified, and she awoke with a gruff sigh. “Hm?” she murmured hoarsely, lethargy still weighing her words. Once again, she didn’t recognize her surroundings, and panic snapped away her drowsiness.

She fumbled to sit up, backing into the armrest of the couch. In a blind scramble to search for a weapon, she snatched a loaded gun off the coffee table that had been deserted casually after a past hunt. She clicked the safety off with professional haste and aimed the barrel at the nose of the man before her.

Castiel froze, a moment of doubt sifting through his bloodstream. Typically, he would not waver when faced with a pistol, but he had to consider his predicament cautiously. While his grace still lingered within him, his powers were dwindling. Primal instincts such as hunger and sleep were solid proof of his increasing humanity. Castiel hesitated because he wasn’t certain that the bullet wound would ever heal with his lacking angel abilities.

Some instinct within him, likely more human than angel, urged him to suffer to a terror deep in his gut as the pistol aimed at him. Perhaps Jimmy Novak was steering such a response.

Her hand trembled as it gripped the gun.. Just one tremor and his vessel’s brain could splatter the wallpaper. He would rather Jimmy not endure such. If he would ever persuade the weapon’s parting, she would need to be calm.

Intentionally slow, he raised his hands. “It isn’t what it looks like,” he insisted kindly. He wished Dean would waken already. Why, of all times, must he sleep now?

She squinted and trembled less, anger washing over her. “Really?” she challenged, “Because it looks like I’ve been kidnapped―twice now!” Fury twisted her features now she held the upper hand. “Somebody better offer answers! Where am I?”

Dean had risen from his brief sleep, escaping even the notice of Cas. “A place you do not belong, trust me.“.

She observed the hunter sternly, rage voicing her actions. He was built like a soldier but dressed in leathery materials. His worn jacket was a simple brown, along with boot-leg denim jeans, and logger boots. The ancient necklace dangling to his collarbone rocked against his black button-up.

“Everyone keeps saying that,” she hissed sourly, “and it’s ticking me off.” The gun pressed against the cartilage of Castiel’s nose, firmly held.

“Okay, okay.” Dean acceded, glancing toward the stairs and doors to check for any thing that might send her into a spontaneous round of shooting. Finding none, he gave her what she wanted: the truth. “Angels abducted you,” he responded outright, smugly awaiting her response.

She dug the barrel of the pistol into Castiel’s cheek and said, “And? You think I haven’t gathered that?”

Castiel, having finally controlled his fragile humane responses to threat (specifically reigning Jimmy), was now curious. “How is it obvious?”

She shot a skeptical gaze to the angel. “Your wings… they’re kind of difficult to ignore.” She gestured with her free arm to his sides. “The other brutes who manhandled me also had those stupid feathered appendages, so give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you in the face right now.” Her voice was frigid.

“My wings?” Castiel wondered aloud, “You can see them?”

Dean laughed, “Wait, wait, you actually have wings?” He inspected the angel’s shoulders from where he stood, expecting to see feathers. “How can she see them?”

At the sudden movement, the girl balked, “I will shoot him.” Not an ounce of humor laced her tone or expression.

He shrugged it off. “Ain’t going to do a thing, sweetheart. Not a scratch.”

“Would you like me to test the theory?”

“If it makes you feel better.” Dean said, jutting his chin. He was clearly confident in the angel’s abilities.

Castiel, however, was not so confident. “Dean,” he berated. “That is not wise. My grace is withering as we speak. A bullet will render me useless. I suggest we present her with information.” Despite the steady advice, the silent plea rang like a church bell.

Deflated, Dean sighed. “Right, okay, but can you at least lower the gun? It’s stressing him out.”

She agreed, and allowed the weapon to rest on her leg, hand tense and prepared. “Now, what is going on and where am I?”

Dean worried his lip, knowing the answer to the question was flat-out batty to regular civilians. “At least give us your name. ‘The girl’ has become popular, but I’m assuming you wouldn’t be too fond of that nickname.”

“Sydney. Quit stalling.”

Dean lifted his hands in surrender. “If you say so, cupcake.” He sat back into his seat while his fingernails secretly etched into the wood. “You’re in another dimension. Some angels swapped you into our reality. For whatever reason, we don’t know. We rescued you. Whatever plans they had for you, they probably weren’t legal. Not that angels care about legal.” He gestured to the clutter and stacks of books around them. “We’re researching dimensional travel, okay? Castiel here could transport you back, but he says he’s drained. And apparently, it’s nearly impossible otherwise.”

She halted any further movement, recognition flaring within her eyes. “No,” she denied. “No, this is―no.”

Castiel and Dean eyed her in mild concern.

She laughed half-heartedly, “I knew this seemed too familiar, but…. you’re Dean and Castiel, aren’t you?” After a pause, she cussed under her breath. Their silence had answered her inquiry. “Jesus. And Sam’s outside?”

Dean nodded warily, “How―”

She suddenly felt dizzy. “Because I have a friend who watches this, um, television show? It’ called Supernatural. You’re the Winchesters. God, this show has no freaking fourth wall,” she said, her hands meeting her temples to calm her racing mind.

“Oh, great,” Dean cheered sarcastically. “Another universe where our lives are just another television show. Always fond of those. Tell me something: why on earth would people enjoy watching our lives?”

She laughed at the sheer stupidity of her situation. “Because you guys are heroes! You’ve had your rough spots and sore years, but no matter how many trials and obstacles block your way, you push on. It’s inspiring, and a bit depressing, if you ask me.” Sydney shook her head in disbelief. “You’re popular where I’m from, if it helps anything. You’re a worldwide-famous kind of deal. My friend, Iris, is obsessed with you two.”

Worldwide, huh? Dean sported a pained expression. “Well, if you know who we are, then you know we’re here to help.”

She nodded thoughtfully, the gun in her hand slackening as her grip loosened. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess.” She clicked the safety back into place and set the weapon onto the coffee table in front of her. Slumping into the couch, she assessed her fate. “Oh my god, I just threatened you guys with a gun. I just threatened Dean Winchester with a gun. I’m so screwed,” she squeaked. The butterflies in the pit of her stomach panicked as excitement and fear battled within her.

Dean fidgeted. “You’re fine. No harm done. We get it a lot, actually.” Being addressed as something of a celebrity was as awkward as it was foreign. The most famous he’d ever been was Most Wanted in America, and even that was a stretch, being legally dead, and all.

The front door creaked open and in trudged the groggy moose himself: Sam Winchester. His clothes were wrinkled from curling into the car seats and tossing restlessly. Along with that, the bruises under his eyes had faded into a pale grey.

Sydney observed his status: hair length told her she was dealing with sometime around Season 8, and his plaid button-up was sagging from the boiling temperatures outside the air-conditioned walls. “The car is like an oven today. It nearly baked me alive,” he complained, rolling up his sleeves to cool himself. Meeting the eyes of Sydney, he lit up, “You’re awake.”

“Impeccable timing, as television goes,” Sydney commented tersely. Her attitude was peckish and cheeky while her body language read bitter. Overall, it was a crappy demeanor.

“What?” Sam’s eyebrows crept up to his hairline as he attempted to soak in the criticism so early in the morning. Especially out of the person they saved yesterday. Gratitude was difficult to come by these days. “What’s she talking about?”

She studied Sam oddly, “You’re fake. You gotta be. That’s my conclusion. This is all too freaking specific and creepy.”

Dean had had enough. He retorted indignantly, “From my perspective, you’re the fake one. I’ve spent a majority of my life learning what is real, and this world is definitely one.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t take advice from a fictional character,” she said hotly.

Sam could see this argument was heading on a dangerous path, so he briskly intervened, his tone clipped, “If you would be rational, you would realize you’re both real―because you can physically see each other.”

Castiel agreed. “Sam’s right: an argument over this is not productive. You’re just unaware of each other’s existence, considering the wall separating your realities. ”

They were ganging up on her. Sydney snapped toward the angel, “I’m still not convinced that this isn’t a dream… or nightmare, for that matter.” She paused, “Why am I dreaming about you now?”

This was nightmare-worthy. Three very intimidating men had her surrounded in an unfamiliar house, and were arguing heatedly over whether they were a figment of her own imagination. Also, this could definitely be considered kidnapping. The only things that were keeping her compliant were their faultless references to Supernatural and their apparent copy-paste faces that matched their description and behavior down to the freckles.

“Who’s to say anything isn’t a dream?” Sam was now suggesting, which was enough to hold her tongue for the moment.

“Besides,” Dean countered, “a dream this vivid would be the work of angels. So either way, angels are meddling with your cantaloupe, kid.” Dean quipped, tipping the empty glass on the table in a search for alcohol. The dry bottom disappointed him. He stood, prepared to scavenge the fridge, but an arm blocked his path. An inevitable foe: the determined moose.

“We need you sober, Dean. Don’t think I didn’t notice the empty bottles in the kitchen.” Sam advised, squandering any of Dean’s future intentions.

Dean felt attacked; was he that predictable? “But―” He dared to argue. Seeing Sam’s persistence, he obliged. “All right, okay.”

Sydney crossed her arms in obstinance. “Prove it. Prove this isn’t a dream.”

Dean appeared agitated by the ridiculous demand. He said, “And how are we supposed to that? We can’t just―”

“Actually you can,” Sam interrupted with a barely tolerable amount of excitement. One of these days, Dean would need to exit the room after practically smelling the amount of dork that radiated off of his brother. “It’s impossible to read numbers or words when you’re dreaming. It’ll resemble scribbles and babble because your brain doesn’t process them into REM sleep. So if we have to prove our authenticity, check and help us research while you’re at it.” He nodded keenly, a sly glint in his eyes. He had won.

She glared, aware she had been outwitted. “Fine,” she bit out venomously. She swiveled toward the unending stack of books littering the living room and plucked an unsuspecting hardcover. Once freeing its stiff pages, her jaw clenched in silent disbelief to her discovery.

Dean lifted an eyebrow and concluded his next actions would be to check up on his Baby, and not make friends with more booze, in heed to Sam’s wishes.

Sam trailed along.. “She sure is something,” he finally said after the recent aggressive standoff.

“A tiger,” Dean agreed.

The sun channeled down to the earth with one sweeping, broiling gaze; anything in its view was showered in waves of heat. Pine trees withered, leaves shriveled, and life wilted. The sun’s torrid touch sent ripples into the air as another summer day sprang into a heat spell. Dean found the feverish weather unnatural in the fall months, but August had recently withdrawn, so nobody paid mind. It was just ‘mother nature doing her thing’.

Something told Dean that the sun’s slow ability to rise automatically equaled a long, tiresome day. He wasn’t ready for it, or anything for that matter, but he was bracing himself for the inevitable.

He patted the Impala fondly, which had cooked to a temperature nearly that of a hot stove, and admired his car’s brilliance in the rays of the amber morning sun. The hood was gleaming, the windows were glossy, and the bumper glittered in a metallic luster. He had been tempted to kiss her if she hadn’t been scalding hot. His Baby was gorgeous.

Sam, amused by Dean’s worship over his vehicle, smiled faintly. That car had seen the worst and the best of times since the day they were born. No matter what wreck got into, Dean would fix her right up to the childhood imperfections and all. Dean was adamant about leaving each flaw and fault in the car from their youth to preserve its personality. What would the Impala be without the army man that Sam crammed into the ashtray or Legos that Dean shoved into the vents? 

“Even when Dean rebuilt her from the ground up, he made sure all these little things stayed, ‘cause it’s the blemishes that make her beautiful.” ~Chuck Shurley

That car had been around longer than anyone ever involved in their twisted lifestyles.

Sam recalled the days when wide, toothy grins and trivial pranks had been common practice. Back then, their ambition of the family business had been guided by positive energy and hadn’t yet weighed on them like a clingy burden. Hunting hadn’t been a chore: it had been a personal commitment. They had saved people because they knew of the lurking evil and how to defend against them. They helped because they could and it was right.

Of course, their reason for hunting still existed, but back then it had been simpler. Dig the grave, salt, burn; find the monster, how to kill it, and go through with that plan. There were no complicated angel issues, no Leviathans, and they had been spared the constant deaths. Now, it was their job and duty to save the world at any moment’s notice, which seemed outright wrong for anyone to have forced upon them. Even the undefeated Winchesters.

Fortunately, no matter how much crap they endured, the Impala remained intact. And within all the memories stuffed and crammed into Sam’s worn mind, their car was always present.

Sam gave the Impala a little pat of his own, compelled to acknowledge the vehicle’s constant stability throughout his life, whether or not it was just a car. He owed it that.

Dean was almost antsy as he sat on the polished hood. “Sam, something ain’t right with that girl.” His thumb absentmindedly rubbed at the metal, smudging it with a line of oily fingerprints and then yanking his hand away as the roasting metal met his skin. Dean had done so twice now, which told Sam that something was unquestionably at the forefront of his brother’s thoughts.

Sam took a special interest in the claim, weighing what had riled him. “What makes you say that?” He had noticed nothing suspicious about her, just that she was as feisty as they got.

“She can see his wings, Sammy.” he said, licking his lips and lowering his voice to an urgent whisper. “Castiel’s. ”

Intrigued, Sam pinched his lips, and a crease appeared between his eyebrows. “Cas has wings?” He tried to visualize the concept, but the notion of invisible feathers adorning Castiel’s backside sounded bizarre.

“I know, that’s what I said!” Dean exclaimed animatedly at the relation. “I didn’t even know he had wings. I thought that was just a metaphor for his mojo or something.” He itched for a drink. “I’m telling you, something about this is bad news.”

“Alright.” Sam believed him. After all the hardship they had coped, he knew that when Dean had an intuition, it was usually correct. “But, what’s got you like this though? We deal with this stuff all the time.”

Dean shrugged, his shoulders rigid. “I don’t know. But it’s not settling in my gut right. I mean, with angels involved and a separate dimension, this could be anything,” he said, his point becoming clearer. Angels, in their book, were commonly associated with chaos. Apocalypse, Lucifer, Leviathans… you couldn’t blame the hunters for suspecting another round of mayhem they would be enforced to patch up for the ignorant celestial beings.

“You’re right,” Sam admitted. “So… I guess we do what we’ve always done, then. Find out what we’re dealing with and do what we have to.”

They understood.

[sulietsexual]

🔥 The OC

IMO, The OC had a spectacularly strong first season and then slowly started to decline after that. While certain characters and relationships were still given good development after Season 1, overall the show seemed to suffer from a lack of focus and overly long seasons which dragged out unnecessary drama and introduced too many different storylines, resulting in Ending Fatigue and Darkness Induced Audience Apathy.

With the exception of the Oliver Storyline, the first season of The OC is a fantastically written season, which establishes all the characters and their varying trials and issues, provides solid characterisation and builds the central relationships of the show beautifully. The OC Pilot is one of my favourite Pilots ever and wonderfully sets up the dynamics of the show. Almost every storyline is well-developed and well-written, drawing the audience in and letting us get to know the characters on a really deep and personal level, while managing to maintain a perfect balance of melodrama, subtle comedy and real-life issues. Using Ryan as the Audience Surrogate who gets introduced to the wealthy and dramatic world of Orange County and slowly sees the ugliness beneath the shiny exterior worked perfectly and allowed the audiences to get to know the characters and community of the show along with Ryan.

Unfortunately, every season after Season 1 suffers from a lack of direction and increasingly lacklustre storylines. Season 2 starts out strong, with Ryan and Seth both shown to be lost at the beginning of the season and having to find one another and make their way home but after the first few episodes the season starts to decline. Lindsey was a terrible character and a poor substitute for Marissa and she and Ryan had zero chemistry, which made their romance all the more tedious. It was just painful to watch Marissa suffer all season watching Ryan fall for someone else. Zack was another boring character who served no purpose other than to keep Seth and Summer apart, which was also really grating. And even the adults had storylines which were very hard to watch, such as Sandy and Kirsten’s deteriorating marriage and Julie’s disastrous affair with Jimmy and the effect it had on her sham marriage to Caleb. While there are some very enjoyable episodes tucked into the mess, the season doesn’t really find its feet again until the last handful of episodes, with the introduction of Trey and his messed up relationship with Ryan, Kirsten’s alcoholism and the amazing finale. But overall, Season 2 can be hard to sit through.

That being said, the badness of Season 2 is nothing compared to the trainwreck that is Season 3. Removing Marissa from the core group was a terrible idea and the new characters introduced are, once again, very lacklustre, especially Johnny, who was one of the most useless characters to ever grace the show. Putting him in between Ryan and Marissa in order to once again cause drama between the two (honestly, why couldn’t this show let those two be happy?) was beyond irritating, especially because the actor had no chemistry with Mischa, and Marissa only really seemed to latch on to Johnny because she felt sorry for him. Seth turns into a raging idiot halfway through the season and decides that lying to and breaking up with Summer is somehow the best thing to do, which made zero sense. The storyline of Sandy taking over the Newport Group was boring, and I can barely even remember was Kirsten and Julie were doing all season. And while the season finale was amazing and heartbreaking, killing off Marissa Cooper was the biggest mistake the show ever made. Which leads us to …

Season 4. Look, I actually don’t mind Season 4 because it restores the lighter tone from Season 1 and there are some very entertaining and fun episodes sprinkled throughout the season. I like the personal growth that Julie Cooper goes through and her and Kirsten’s friendship is a highlight. But there are two big issues with Season 4 which I cannot reconcile with and that is that the show does not give the characters adequate time to grieve and deal with the aftermath of Marissa’s death and the rushed development of the Ryan/Taylor ship. All the fallout from Marissa’s death is literally wrapped up within the first four episodes and then the rest of the season she is barely mentioned and Taylor’s ruthless and stalker-y pursuit of Ryan is highly uncomfortable and kind of undermines how much Marissa meant to Ryan and how hard it really should have been for him to move on. The season finale is also kind of overly saccharine, although I do love the parallel of Ryan seeing a homeless kid and offering him help with Sandy reaching out to him in the Pilot.

This all being, The OC has some really strong characterisation and many of the characters undergo incredible growth. Ryan Atwood goes from a violent, distrustful and isolated teen, to a warm, open young adult, who learns how to curb his more violent tendencies and makes something of himself. Summer Roberts starts the series as a vapid and self-centered Alpha Bitch and somehow morphs into an incredibly compassionate, socially aware activist, who learns that she is so much more than just Orange County and the frivolous lives of those who inhabit it. Seth Cohen develops from a self-centered and judgmental introvert into someone who can selflessly let the woman he loves go to find herself and become who she needs to be, and discovers an inner strength and peace. The adults all grow and change in their own way, in particular Julie Cooper who starts the series as a judgmental and cruel Trophy Wife and ends the series a single mother finishing college and learning to stand on her own two feet.

At the end of the day, I will always love The OC. It has really great characters and pretty decent characterisation, there are many, many great episodes throughout the show, even in the bad seasons, it has an amazing soundtrack and I really love the cast. But the show really only has one truly great season, which is a shame, because that one season really showcases the series untapped potential and everything it could have been.

[taiblogcomics]

Police Brutality

Hey there, crystaline power-ups. Another issue of The Movement is happening soon. In fact, it should be just below this line of text! Let's get into it~

Here's the cover:

Another good one. This is easily one of the most claustrophobic covers I've seen, and I mean that in a good way. Everything's closed in, and with the lighting solely being on Katharsis, it really makes you identify with her position. You really put yourself in her situation, and it really sells how tough it is to take her down. Good stuff~

We open right where we left off--no, not from the last issue. From the cover. Which, I guess, also continues from the last issue, but the point is: Katharsis in a really bloody, knock-down-drag-out battle with the cops. The cops are all shouting useless things, like "She broke my damn nose" and "hold her down", while Katharsis herself keeps silent and lets her narration captions do the talking. Eventually, she's pinned down, and mob boss James Cannon pervs on her creepily for a bit (and also drops some racist remarks) before telling the boys in blue to take her downtown.

Meanwhile, Rainmaker makes a dramatic two-page splash entrance. And I do mean "splash", since she's a weather manipulator. Thunder, rain, and lightning; danger, water rising, and all that. The wind rips a few of Mouse's rats away from him, to his despair. Everybody hangs onto something. And though they can't hang on much longer, they will never let go. Nobody can get enough of a foothold to use their powers, and Rainmaker tells them that whoever survives should take a message back to their masters: this is what happens when you challenge the storm clouds.

We cut over to the streets of Coral City. A homeless fellow with a dog is pan-handling on the sidewalk, and a woman gives him some money even though her boyfriend berates her for doing so. The guy is grateful regardless, and he decides to spend the money splitting a cheeseburger with his dog (whose name is Jimmy). Suddenly, as he's walking, a little personal raincloud appears over him. He knows what this means and begins to run. He's quickly cornered by a person with a big knife, and the homeless guy begs him to at least not hurt his dog. The Cornea Killer promises. He's not a monster, you know.

Speaking of getting burgers, though, Vengeance Moth (which I will probably shorten to "Moth" after first usage each issue) brings the prisoners some cheeseburgers. Officer Whitt (the asshole, remember) muses that they're still warm, and Moth realises he's trying to triangulate their position based on local restaurants. Whitt muses that the comment he made--the one about asking an underage girl to flash him some skin, remember--would get him a suspension at most. Yet they've locked him with no trial, no representation, no contact. Who's more merciful here? Moth is fortunately called away before she has to respond to that bullshit.

The battle against Rainmaker continues, with Virtue directing Mouse to attack Rainmaker's people as a distraction. Virtue gets blasted with lightning in response, while Burden's demonic side suddenly surfaces. She blasts Burden too. But Mouse has got his teeth on the jugular of one of Rainmaker's pals and is threatening to bite down. Virtue explains that she thinks someone's using the Cornea Killer's weird circumstances--the personal raincloud--to frame Rainmaker. Rainmaker calls off the attack, and gives them two names. Her own (Sarah) and the name of who they're looking for: James Cannon.

James Cannon was a Wall Street boy and now he's working his way through the town. He wants a perfect city: no crime, no conflict, and no poor people. One of these things is not like the others! Despite the help, though, Rainmaker opts not to join with Virtue's team and disappears into the fog. She does leave Virtue her number, though. They can't stick around, however. Tremor's just gotten a call from their own headquarters. They've found out the cops have Katharsis in custody, and that's gonna be a problem for everybody.

Officer Yee is protesting that their holding of Katharsis is wrong, but the other cops are built like linebackers, so he's unable to do much more than that. Meanwhile, Cannon's in there beating on Katharsis while she's tied to a chair, telling her she's stupid for getting in his way and that "business doesn't have a Geneva Convention". She's just laughing it off, taunting him about the terrible powers her friends have to inflict on him. Gotta say, I admire her guts to still be laughing in this predicament.

Virtue, meanwhile, appears in Captain Meers' office, telling him his coffee sucks and offering an apology for the way she revealed his wife's infidelity. Meers is currently pissed because his SWAT team and Officer Yee are unaccounted for, and dispatch can't raise them. Virtue offers him an exchange of prisoners, and her replies that they're not at war and he's not holding any of her people anyway. He tells her the police are here to protect people, and they will not be threatened or held hostage. She shrugs, saying she tried to do it the easy way. And to close the issue, she opens the blinds, revealing a mob of people in silver masks, ready to burn the station down.

Good issue. The mystery keeps building, and the characters continue to shine. You get to see Katharsis, Rainmaker, and Virtue be awesome, and you get to see Whitt and Cannon be despicable. Also builds on the Cornea Killer thing a bit more, keeping it interesting. You get the revelation of framing Rainmaker, but why and more importantly how? We’ll just have to keep reading to see~

[dark-and-twisty-01]

David Richard Berkowitz (Son of Sam)

New Yorkers are accustomed to reports of violent death in every form, from mundane to the bizarre. They take it all in stride, accepting civic carnage as a price of living in the largest, richest city in America. But residents were unprepared for the commencement of an all out reign of terror in July 1976. For 13 months, New York would be a city under siege, its female citizens afraid to venture out by night while an apparent homicidal maniac was waiting, seeking prey. 

The terror came with darkness on July 29th, 1976. Two young women, Donna Lauria and Jody Valenti, had parked their car on Buhre Avenue in Queens, remaining in the vehicle and passing time in conversation. If they saw the solitary male pedestrian at all, they didn’t take note of him. In any case, they never saw the pistol that he raised to pump five shots through the windshield. Donna Lauria was killed immediately; her companion survived and got off “easy,” with a bullet in one thigh. The shooting was a tragic incident, but in itself was not unusual for New York City. There was scattered sympathy but no alarm among the residents of New York’s urban combat zone...until the next attack.

On October 23rd, Carl Denaro and Rosemary Keenan parked outside a bar in Flushing, Queens. Again, the gunman went unnoticed as he crouched to fire a single bullet through the car’s window. Wounded, Carl Denaro survived. A 44-caliber bullet was found on the floor of the car, and detectives matched it to slugs from the Lauria murder. Just over one month later, on November 26, Donna DeMasi and Joanne Lomino were sitting together on the stoop of a house in the Floral Park section of Queens. A man approached them from the sidewalk, asking for directions, but before he could complete the question he had drawn a pistol, blasting at the startled women. Both were wounded, Joanne paralyzed forever with a bullet in her spine.

Again the slugs were readily identified, and now detectives knew they had a random killer on their hands. The gunman seemed to favour girls with long, dark hair, and there was speculation that the shooting of Denaro in October may have been an “accident.” The young man’s hair was shoulder length; a gunman closing on him from behind might have mistaken Carl Denaro for a woman in the darkness. Christmas season passed without another shooting, but the gunman had not given up his hunt. On January 30, 1977, John Diel and Christine Freund were parked and necking in the Ridgewood section of New York, when bullets hammered out their windshield. Freund was killed on impact, while her date was physically unscathed. 

Virginia Voskerichian, an Armenian exchange student, was walking toward her home in Forest Hills on March 8, when a man approached and shot her in the face, killing her instantly, Detectives noted that she had been slain within 300 yards of the January murder scene. On April 17, Alexander Esau and his date, Valentina Suriani, were parked in the Bronx, a few blocks from the site of the Lauria-Valenti shooting. Caught up in each other, they may not have seen the gunman coming; certainly they had no time to dodge the fusillade of bullets that killed them both immediately, fired from point-blank range. 

Detectives found clearly a crudely printed letter in the middle of the street, near Esau’s car. Addressed to the captain in charge of New York’s hottest manhunt, the note contained a chilling message. 

I am deeply hurt by your calling me a weman-hater [sic]. I am not. But I am a monster. I am the Son of Sam....I love to hunt. Prowling the streets looking for fair game - tasty meat/ The weman [sic] of Queens are the prettyest [sic] of all....

The note described “sam” as a drunken bute who beat members of his family and sent his son out hunting “tasty meat” compelling him to kill. There would be other letters from the gunman, some addressed to newsman Jimmy Breslin, hinting at more crimes to come and fueling the hysteria that had already gripped New York. The writer was apparently irrational but no less dangerous for that, and homicide investigators had no clue to his identity. On June 26, Salvatore Lupo and girlfriend Judy Placido were parked in Bayside, Queens, when four shots pierced the windshield of their car. Both were wounded; both survived.

On July 31, Robert Violante and Stacy Moskowitz parked near the Brooklyn shore. The killer found them there and squeezed off four shots at their huddled silhouettes, striking both young people in the head. Stacy died instantly; her date survived, but damage from his wounds left Violante blind for life. It was the last attack, but homicide detectives didn’t know that yet. A woman walking near the final murder scene recalled two traffic officers writing a ticket for a car parked close to a hydrant; moments later, she had seen a man approach the car, climb in, and pull away with squealing tires. A check of parking ticket records traced the old Ford Galaxy belonging to one David Berkowitz, of Pine street, Yonkers. Staking out the address, officers discovered that the car was parked outside, a semiautomatic rifle lay in the “Son of Sam’s” distinctive, awkward style. When Berkowitz emerged from his apartment he was instantly arrested and confessed his role in New York’s reign of terror.

The story told by Berkowitz seemed tailor-made for an Insanity Defense in court. The “Sam” referred to in his letters was a neighbour, one Sam Carr, whose Labrador retriever was allegedly possessed by ancient demons, beaming out commands for Berkowitz to kill and kill again. One one occasion he had tried to kill the dog, but it was useless; demons spoiled his aim, and when the dog recovered from its wounds, the nightly torment had redoubled in the intensity. A number of psychiatrists described the suspect as a paranoid schizophrenic, suffering from delusions and therefore incompetent to stand trial. The lone exception was Dr. David Abrahamson, who found that Berkowitz was sane and capable of understanding that his actions had been criminal. The court agreed with Abrahamson and ordered Berkowitz to trial. The gunman soon pled guilty and was sentenced to 365 years in prison. 

Ironically, Berkowitz seemed grateful to Dr. Abrahamson for his sanity ruling and later agreed to a series of interviews that Abrahamson published in his book Confessions of Son of Sam (1985). The interviews revealed that Berkowitz had tried to kill two women during 1975, attacking them with knives, but he turned squeamish when they tried to fight him off. (”I didn’t want to hurt them,” he explained, confused. “I only wanted to kill them.”) A virgin at the time of his arrest, Berkowitz was prone to fabricate elaborate lies about his bedroom prowess, all the while intent upon revenge against the women who habitually rejected him. When not engaged in stalking female victims, Berkowitz reportedly was an accomplished arsonist: a secret journal listed details of 300 fires for which he was allegedly responsible around New York. In his conclusion, Dr. Abrahamson described his subject as a homicidal exhibitionist who meant his crimes to be a public spectacle and harbored fantasies of “dying for a cause”.

There is another side of David Berkowitz, however, and it surfaced shortly after his arrest, with allegations of his membership in a satanic cult. In letters mailed from prison, Berkowitz described participation in a New York cult affiliated with the lethal “Four P Movement,” based in California. He revealed persuasive inside knowledge of a California homicide, unsolved since 1974, and wrote that “There are other Sams out there - God help the world.”

According to the story told by Berkowitz in prison, two of neighbour Sam Carr’s sons were also members of the killer cult that specialized in skinning dogs alive and gunning victims down on darkened streets. One suspect John Charles Carr, was said to be the same “John Wheaties” mentioned in a letter penned by Berkowitz, containing other clues that point to cult involvement in the random murders. Calling themselves “The Children,” the cultists operated from a base in Untermeyer Park, where mutilated dogs were found from time to time. Cult members represented the “Twenty-two Disciples of Hell” mentioned in another “Son of Sam” letter. Suspect John Carr fled New York in February 1979 and “committed suicide” under mysterious circumstances in Minot, North Dakota, two days later. Brother Michael Carr died in a single-car crash in October 1979, and New York authorities reopened the “Sam” case after his death.

Newsman Maury Terry, after six years on the case, believes there at least five different gunmen in the “Son of Sam” attacks, including Berkowitz, John Carr, and several suspects one a woman who have yet to be indicted. Terry also notes that six of the seven shootings fell in close proximity to recognised occult holidays, the March 8 Voskerichian attack emerging as the sole exception to the pattern. In the journalist’s opinion, Berkowitz was chosen as a scapegoat by the other cultists, who then defaced his apartment with weird graffiti, whipping up a bogus “arson ledger” which includes peculiar, out-of-order entries to support a plea of innocent by insanity. 

Berkowitz himself confirmed the occult connection in conversations with fellow inmates and letters mailed from prison. One such, posted in October 1979 reads:

I really don’t know how to begin this letter, but at one time I was a member of an occult group. Being sworn to secrecy or face death I cannot reveal the name of the group nor do I wish to. This group contained a mixture of satanic practices which included the teachings of Aleister Crowley and Eliphaz [sic] Lebi. It was (still is) totally blood oriented and I am certain you know just what I mean. The Coven’s doctrine are a blend of Druidism, the teachings of the Secret Order of the Golden Dawn, Black Magick and a host of other unlawful and obnoxious practices. 

As I said, I have no interest in revealing the Coven, especially because I have almost met sudden death on several occasions (once by half an inch) and several others have already perished under mysterious circumstances. These people will stop at nothing, including murder. They have no fear of man-made laws or the Ten Commandments.

The latest near-death experience for Berkowitz had been a July 10th prison assault that left his throat slashed, requiring fifty-six stitches to close the wound. Less talkative following his narrow escape, Berkowitz still agreed to a January 1982 meeting with attorney Harry Lipsig. In that Conversation, he referred to the killer cult as follows: 

Q: You had some connection with the church of Scientology, did you not? 

A: It wasn’t exactly that. But I can’t go into it. I really can’t.  

Q: Were you connected in any way or an adherent or covert of the Church of Scientology?

A: No, not that way. It was an offshoot, fringe-type thing.

Q: Were John and Michael [Carr] with the Church of Scientology? 

A: Well, not really that church. But something along that line. A very devious group. 

Q: Did this devious group have a name?

A: I can’t disclose it.

Q: Roughly, how large would you say it’s membership was?

A: Twenty. 

Q: Were they all residents of New York metropolitan area?

A: No.

Q: Were they spread across the nation?

A: Yes.

Q: Did they meet on occasion? 

A: Yes, but I really can’t say more without counsel. 

As Maury Terry noted, both satanic Process Church of Final Judgement and it’s spin-off successor, the “Four P” cult, were “offshoot, fringe-type” movements spawned by Scientology. Both groups were also linked to the Charles Manson Family in California as was convicted killer William Mentzerm named by Berkowitz in prison interviews as the triggerman in the January 1977 shooting of John Diel and Christine Freund. Investigation of the alleged cult continues, supported by testimony from convicted cannibal-killer Stanley Dean Baker, but no further indictments have been filed to date.

[brn1029]

On this date in music history….

April 12th

1954 - Bill Haley

Bill Haley recorded 'Rock Around the Clock' at Pythian Temple studios in New York City. Considered by many to be the song that put rock and roll on the map around the world. The song was used over the opening titles for the film 'Blackboard Jungle', and went on to be a world-wide No.1 and the biggest selling pop single with sales over 25 million. Written by Max C. Freedman and James E. Myers, 'Rock Around The Clock' was first recorded by Italian-American band Sonny Dae and His Knights.

1957 - Lonnie Donegan

The 'King of Skiffle' Lonnie Donegan was at No.1 on the UK singles chart with 'Cumberland Gap.' The Scottish musician was a former member of Chris Barber's Jazz Band.

1963 - Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan performed his first major solo concert at the Town Hall in New York City. Dylan played a 24 song set including 'Blowin' In The Wind', 'A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall', 'Highway 51' and 'Last Thoughts On Woody Guthrie'.

1966 - Jan Berry

Jan Berry (Jan and Dean) was almost killed when he crashed his car into a parked truck a short distance from Dead Man's Curve in Los Angeles. Berry was partially paralysed and suffered brain damage. Berry was able to walk again after extensive therapy.

1967 - Mick Jagger

Mick Jagger was punched in the face by an airport official during a row at Le Bourget Airport in France. Jagger lost his temper after The Rolling Stones were being searched for drugs resulting in them missing their flight.

1968 - Pink Floyd

Pink Floyd released their fourth UK single 'It Would Be So Nice', written by Richard Wright with Roger Waters' 'Julia Dream' on the B-side. Pink Floyd were on tour in Europe on this day, and played their second night at the Piper Club, in Rome, Italy.

1969 - 5th Dimension

The 5th Dimension started a six week run at No.1 on the US singles chart with 'Aquarius / Let The Sunshine In', a No.11 hit in the UK.

1975 - David Bowie

During an interview with Playboy Magazine David Bowie announced his second career retirement, saying, 'I've rocked my roll. It's a boring dead end, there will be no more rock 'n' roll records from me. The last thing I want to be is some useless rock singer.'

1989 - David Cassidy

Two DJ's on Los Angeles station KLOS asked 'what ever happened to David Cassidy' The singer called the station up and the presenters invited him onto the show. David played three songs live on air and was subsequently signed by a new record label.

2000 - Metallica

Metallica filed a suit against Napster, Yale University, The University of Southern California and Indiana University for copyright infringement.

2007 - The Beatles

The Beatles company, Apple Corps, settled a £30 million ($59.2 million) royalties dispute with the band's label, EMI. The suit alleged unpaid royalties on Beatles albums based on an audit of sales between 1994 and 1999, a period which included the release of three Anthology compilations. Details of the settlement were not disclosed.

2016 - Led Zeppelin

A US court ruled that Led Zeppelin founders Robert Plant and Jimmy Page must face trial in a copyright row over the song 'Stairway to Heaven'. The copyright infringement action had been brought by Michael Skidmore, a trustee for the late Spirit guitarist Randy Wolfe, who played on the same bill as Led Zeppelin in the 1960s, and claimed he should be given a writing credit on the track.

[samtheflamingomain]

the fractured but decent

I just finished the new South Park game, The Fractured But Whole, so naturally, I want to pick apart every detail and review it in disgusting depth.

It might seem unfair to compare it to Stick of Truth, but I have a feeling I'll be doing a lot of that.

Obviously, I'm a huge SP fanboy, and had been following the release of the game months beforehand. I watched an interview with Matt and Trey, and they gave a lot of insight into the game, how it would be different from SoT, and how it would be similar. That too will play into my analysis.

Obviously, spoilers ahead.

Let's divide this up for clarity. I'll go through general gameplay, plot, side quests and collectibles, mechanics/UI, and general thoughts, in that order.

Gameplay is a vague term so let's subdivide that: combat, powers, effects and exploration.

Combat is decent. I prefer the system set up in SoT, but the new system has its pros. I like the grid, moving around, and how your stats effect where you can move on the battleground. For example, Clyde has such a high "movement" stat that he can move almost anywhere on the grid.

But it can also get frustrating and confusing. Sometimes there's so many players on the board that moving becomes impossible. Sometimes you're stuck with combat buddies that can't attack, and sometimes it's unclear as to what the board will look like after your turn. For example, knockbacks and moves that change your location aren't always obvious as to how they’ll play out.

Finally, "inspection mode". It's meant to be used to get details on your friends and foes in battle, like their class, their health, and, most confusingly, their status effects and durations thereof. I never used it, and I think it just served to make combat more confusing.

Powers, I'll admit, kinda suck. Once you reach a point in the game where, for some back-assward reason, you unlock ALL POSSIBLE POWERS, it becomes a game of making a goddamn spreadsheet to weigh the pros and cons of more than 15 powers to decide which 4 you can have active in combat. Now, they give us a bit of help by allowing you to switch powers and buddies before a battle, but taking 20 minutes to pick your best powers beforehand is tedious, but also, unfortunately, necessary.

Also, they aren't very interesting or varied. Most powers involve a punch or hit, but there's like 8 of them that are basically the same. A lot don't make sense for their class, while others are completely useless. Finally, fuck all the healing powers. If you've got Kyle on your team, he's 50% a healer, so you have 2 (very weak) moves to use to deal damage. The healing items are much more effective, at least in my opinion.

Effects. What I mean by that is "Might", stats, and "artifacts". This is a lot of convoluted spreadsheet math again. There's hundreds of items that you can stick in your stats to improve your "Might". This is very hard to explain and even harder to balance.

Say you have six slots. There's more than 100 things that can go in those slots. Some of them improve your health stat, but eliminate your ability to move. Some of them downgrade your buddies' health while increasing your damage dealt. There's a total of (I think) 12 stats that can be affected by these "artifacts". Each one is assigned a number, and adding up all these numbers gives you your "Might" - which I still don't understand what, if anything, this means.

Exploration. Very little has changed since SoT in this department except there's fewer fast-travel locations, a slightly bigger map, and more (and better) puzzles throughout the world. One of my gripes would be the uselessness of many locations - a good 50% of the buildings or locations are only relevant once, and there's no need to revisit them later. (Canada, Mephesto's, the strip club, the Italian restaurant, City Wok, and U-Stor-It just to name a few).

But like I said, the puzzles are quite good, and actually challenging at times. Sometimes it involves spotting something a buddy can knock over, or noticing a little pinwheel that can get you on top of buildings. With the addition of the fart powers (reverse, pause, summon self and shift night/day), these puzzles are more complex and often have multiple steps involved.

Alright, onto the plot. I think it's much better than SoT. It starts out similar, with one faction of kids against the other, then brought together to fight a bigger foe. But they did this in a better, funnier, and ultimately more effective way, in my opinion.

For example, what seems like a silly side-quest leads to Stan (from the other faction) helping your faction, which then leads to both groups joining once they discover something bigger going on.

Now, this "bigger thing" is pretty confusing, especially at first. There's a lot of parts that don't seem to match up. The mayor is apparently failing the city, the cops are working for a racist slime monster (literally), and the sixth-graders are hoarding cats. It eventually comes together: the town is falling apart due to the main foe putting cat urine into the city's drugs and alcohol in order to cause chaos to usurp the mayor's seat. A lot of random groups get involved, like the sixth graders and Butters, to try and capitalize on the situation.

Which brings me to the second half of the game, where, in my opinion, a lot of comedic gold is made without it relying too much on nostalgia and throwbacks to the show. Mitch Conner, the main bad guy, is a joke I've never found particularly funny in the show, but in the game, it was easily one of the smartest moves they made.

"Mitch" (Cartman's hand puppet) kidnaps your parents in order to get you to help him win the mayoral race. As soon as this is revealed, all the characters react as they should: by blaming Cartman. No matter how much he insists "Mitch" is acting on his own, independent of himself, everyone turns on Cartman and he goes into hiding.

This, to me, is a much better way of bringing the plot together than in SoT, where the main villain's (Clyde’s) motivation is not very clear or believable. When we see "Mitch's" motivation for becoming mayor (to make every day Christmas), it's so absurd and Cartman-like that it works incredibly well.

And probably the funniest part of the game, right at the end, is when suddenly Mitch Conner takes over Kyle's hand. It makes no sense, but after the entire problem being blamed on Cartman, it takes a hilarious turn, suggesting that maybe Cartman really wasn't really behind everything after all.

And finally, the last battle. There's a bit of bullshit about going forward and back in time, but it ultimately leads to a hilarious battle where the characters fight themselves from the past - when they were still "playing" Stick of Truth. SuperCraig fights Thief Craig, Human Kite Kyle fights High Jew Elf Kyle and et cetera. There was also a great throwaway line from Wendy: "Hey, now I finally get to play Stick of Truth!"

Onto side quests and collectibles. I've stuck these together because they're pretty much the same. There's only maybe 8 side quests, and almost all of them are just "collect X and return to character Y". There's a lot to be desired in that department, in my opinion, but there is some good stuff in the "filling out your character sheet" plotline. Like the farting-flying-unicorn minigame where you help Kanye West's mother reach heaven so you can meet Jesus and choose your religion. Or when you have to learn about microagressions from PC Principal to choose your race.

As for the collectibles themselves, they're a bit much. Collect Yaoi, toilets, artifacts, costumes, Memberberries, Coonstagram followers, character sheets, cats. But that's up to you to care which achievements you pursue.

Now, mechanics and UI. This is the one category I will unapologetically shit on till the cows come home, with the exception of the phone menu, which is actually a very smart way to organize the massive amount of UI in place.

The artifact menu is a mess. It's confusing and frustrating. Same with the powers menu. Very hard to navigate intelligently. Props to the crafting menu, which is rather straightforward. But outside of the phone, the simple act of pulling up the map, seeing your quests and seeing your progress on those quests is very much lacking.

It gets even worse when we get into combat UI. When it's your turn, you get to choose between your three powers and healing items. It's actually somewhat trial-and-error when you go for an attack. Which power is most effective, and from which position on the board? It's a good thing it's turn-based and not timed, because I often found myself spending a good minute or two testing out every possible move.

And I'd be amiss if I didn't talk buddies. There's waaaay too many, and it's pretty easy to see the best ones and never change them: Wendy, Tweek, Cartman and Clyde were my team for the entire game, because nearly all the others have massive, gaping flaws in their combat abilities. For example, Stan only has two good moves, and they're very situation-dependent. They only help if he's in a specific spot and the enemies are lined up perfectly. He, along with Kyle, Kenny and Jimmy, are pretty useless.

Finally, general thoughts. Obviously, no matter my gripes, it's a great game. It's got enough from the last game and enough from the show to make it work. I found it much funnier than the last game, but, and here's one of my biggest problems with it: it was very short.

This brings me back to when I watched Matt and Trey talk about the game pre-release. They specifically said that this game would be longer. It only took me 20 hours to finish the main plotline AND all the side quests and collectibles. The last game took me nearly 30 hours just to finish the main quest. 

Also, they said the combat would be harder. It’s definitely more confusing and convoluted, but overall, it was pretty damn easy, (and I played on the hardest setting), and I only died maybe three times.

Two of the three fart powers (summon self and switch night/day) are pretty useless; I would've liked more interesting uses for these powers, or, even better, different ones. Reverse time and pause time have great applications in nearly every aspect of gameplay, whereas the other two only get used once or twice in very specific circumstances.

Again, I only gripe because I love the show and the games; I wouldn't put this much thought into it if I didn't. There was a lot that I feel like they missed out on, but there was definitely a lot that they got right. Every building has something to offer, unlike SoT, and there's a lot more in the way of puzzles, characters and overall comedy.

I do hope there'll be another game, but I don't know how that would really happen. If they're going to stick to the RPG genre, well, the kids have only ever played Game of Thrones and superheroes in the show. I don't know that there's another way to do this sort of game.

But hey, as we all know, Matt and Trey are full of surprises.

Stay Greater.