#judicial notice for surrender

[townpostin]

Suspect in Sonari Murder Case Given 3 Days to Surrender

Police issue notice to Faraz Khan, accused in Ajay Sao alias Tinku’s shooting Sonari police have issued a surrender notice to Faraz Khan, a key suspect in the Ajay Sao murder case, giving him three days to turn himself in. JAMSHEDPUR – Sonari police have issued a notice to Faraz Khan, an accused in the Ajay Sao murder case, demanding his surrender within three days. The notice was prominently…

[linghxr]

50+ fundamental crime, suspense, & mystery Cdrama vocab words

I'm currently watching 《模仿犯》, so I was inspired to put together this list of essential vocab for 犯罪剧/悬疑剧/推理剧. I tend to gravitate towards dramas that fall into these genres.

I've sorted the words into categories. These were determined by vibes only. Definitions are adapted from MDBG, my loyal companion for nearly 10 years.

The Case

案子 ànzi - case / law case / legal case / judicial case

案件 ànjiàn - case / instance

办案 bàn'àn - to handle a case

破案 pò'àn - to solve a case

报案 bào'àn - to report a case to the authorities

命案 mìng'àn - homicide case / murder case

作案 zuò'àn - to commit a crime

现场 xiànchǎng - the scene (of a crime, accident etc) / (on) the spot / (at) the site

证据 zhèngjù - evidence / proof / testimony

真相 zhēnxiàng - the truth about sth / the actual facts

The Investigation

厘清 líqīng - to clarify (the facts) / clarification

线索 xiànsuǒ - trail / clues / thread (of a story)

细节 xìjié - details / particulars

痕迹 hénjì - vestige / mark / trace

追踪 zhuīzōng - to follow a trail / to trace / to pursue

追问 zhuīwèn - to question closely / to investigate in detail / to examine minutely / to get to the heart of the matter

排除 páichú - to eliminate / to remove / to exclude / to rule out

嫌疑 xiányí - suspicion / to have suspicions

怀疑 huáiyí - to doubt (sth) / to be skeptical of / to have one's doubts / to harbor suspicions / to suspect that

跟踪 gēnzōng - to follow sb's tracks / to tail / to shadow / tracking

不对劲 búduìjìn - fishy / wrong / not right

隐瞒 yǐnmán - to conceal / to hide (a taboo subject) / to cover up the truth

The Victim

被害者 bèihàizhě - victim (of a wounding or murder)

受害者 shòuhàizhě - casualty / victim / those injured and wounded

幸存者 xìngcúnzhě - survivor

失踪 shīzōng - to be missing / to disappear / unaccounted for

消失 xiāoshī - to disappear / to fade away

绑架 bǎngjià - to kidnap / to abduct / to hijack / a kidnapping abduction / staking

遗体 yítǐ - remains (of a dead person)

尸体 shītǐ - dead body / corpse / carcass

拯救 zhěngjiù - to save / to rescue

寻人启事 xúnrénqǐshì - missing persons notice

The Perpetrator

嫌疑犯 xiányífàn - a suspect

嫌疑人 xiányírén - a suspect

歹徒 dǎitú - evildoer / malefactor / gangster / hoodlum

凶手 xiōngshǒu - murderer / assassin

一伙儿的 yìhuǒrde - in on it together

开枪 kāiqiāng - to open fire / to shoot a gun

鬼鬼祟祟 guǐguǐsuìsuì - sneaky / secretive / furtive

可疑 kěyí - suspicious / dubious

认罪 rènzuì - to admit guilt / to plead guilty

自首 zìshǒu - to give oneself up / to surrender (to the authorities)

下落 xiàluò - whereabouts / to drop / to fall

动机 dòngjī - motive / motivation

犯罪 fànzuì - to commit a crime / crime / offense

The Police

报警 bàojǐng - to sound an alarm / to report sth to the police

警察 jǐngchá - police / police officer

警方 jǐngfāng - police

警官 jǐngguān - constable / police officer

刑警 xíngjǐng - criminal police (abbr. for 刑事警察)

被捕 bèibǔ - to be arrested / under arrest

包围 bāowéi - to surround / to encircle / to hem in

监控 jiānkòng - to monitor

检查 jiǎnchá - inspection / to examine / to inspect

调查 diàochá - investigation / inquiry / to investigate

排查 páichá - to inspect / to investigate one by one

质问 zhìwèn - to question / to ask questions / to inquire / to bring to account / to interrogate

前科 qiánkē - criminal record / previous convictions

Bonus: Here's a list of dramas I have seen/am watching in these categories:

《想见你》 Someday or One Day

《开端》 Reset

《消失的孩子》 The Disappearing Child

《她和她的她》 Shards of Her

《镇魂》 Guardian

《模仿犯》 Copycat Killer

《不良执念清除师》 Oh No! Here Comes Trouble

Now go forth and enjoy some more dramas! I'm a slow watcher, so I add new shows to my watch list faster than I can finish them.

[brilliant-red-eternity]

How do we feel about the handcuffs in Psycho-Pass Providence, Shinkane fans?

Shouldn’t we celebrate that director Shiotani confirmed the handcuffs in a radio interview with Anime Stellar? Kogami and Akane’s left hands are indeed handcuffed in that bridal carry scene in Providence, even if the audience does not immediately notice it! I didn’t listen to Shiotani’s interview myself but I read some comments from Japanese fans. Kogami kills Tonami in front of Akane, that’s why he voluntarily surrenders and lets her arrest him. It is said that he’s finally ready to be judged for his crimes – that is, not by Sibyl but by Akane. I’m screaming!

I wish they had made this detail more obvious in the movie. The arrest seems to be important for the story because it explains why Kogami ends up in the isolation facility. Why not show us a small scene in which a feeble but law-abiding Akane says “you’re under arrest, Kougami-san” and then he helps her to cuff his wrist replying “even so, I believe in you who strives for righteousness”?

If you think about it further, it may also explain why Akane kills chief Kasei and writes in her letter to Kogami that she found the answer thanks to him. Is it because HE would not be fairly judged without the law? That HE has been the real precedent, for years? Am I right, director Shiotani?

But why is Kogami released from the isolation facility after Akane’s incident? I thought his crime coefficient was just below 300? Was he judged by Sibyl or was his case reviewed by a judicial body? Did Akane negotiate? Well, who would have thought that the simple mention of “handcuffs” would raise so many questions?

Kei and Maiko exchange rings in PPP, but Akane and Ko exchange handcuffs. Interesting parallels indeed!

[rwby-necro-au-archive]

Oh dear. I’ll watch from the shadows. -🐈‍⬛

[ Subnivean walks in, looking high and mighty as usual. However his demeanor changes when he notices the look on Ozpin’s face. It’s not one he’s seen before. He looks… different somehow to him. ]

Subnivean: am I interrupting something?

Ozpin: No. In fact you were just the one we needed to be here. We are ending this. Today.

Subnivean: Ending what?

[ All of the Valian council members stand up. ]

Councilwoman Bianca: Warrin Subnivean, by decree of the Valian, Mistrali, and Vacuan Councils, you are hereby under arrest and are to stand trial in front of the Valian Judicial Council for crimes against humanity, healers, shapeshifters, revived, and necromancy.

[ Several council guards approach Subnivean as the councilwoman lists off his rights, he sputters out a response before using the malice in a last ditch effort to escape, turning himself in a monstrous looking entity. ]

[ the council looks on in horror, the only remnants of humanity being his face. He soon attacks the guards, injuring them badly. ]

[ a loud bang rings out, and a hole which quickly heals itself is blasted into the back of the now Macabre Subnivean. Subnivean turns around with an enraged look but stops in his tracks when he sees Ozpin with long memory. ]

Ozpin: you can’t use that forever to heal yourself, and I’ve got plenty more bullets.

[ Subnivean’s voice sounds mangled and gargled at this point. ]

Subnivean: you wouldn’t. You said—

Ozpin: I LIED.

[ he winces at the other man’s tone. ]

Ozpin: you either surrender peacefully, or everything I feel towards you will come out in this council room. Pick your evil.

Subnivean: you hate me that much?

Ozpin: of course I do. You tried to eradicate my people after I had tried to hard to keep them safe.

Subnivean: …you’re…?

Ozpin: yes. I am a necromancer. You obsessed over a necromancer. Which was your own fault, I wanted nothing to do with you. If you’re capable of loving me then what does that mean for the countless you’ve murdered? You would’ve been capable of caring about them too.

[ he stumbles back, and attempts to run until the guards throw a few gravity snares on him, restraining his now monstrous form. ]

Ozpin: it’s over. You will face justice and the people will decide what to do with you.

[dankusner]

238

CHAPTER 18

in Irving Berlin's musical Annie In 2002, Michelle tie Oakley sings,

"you rinGet a Man with a Gun." In 200", Michelle Araujo, justice of

"e pearin Floyd County, did "get her man" with a gun: the shots ino the pesband's stomach. She pleaded guilty to aporavated assault and was senthusband ten years of probation and 1, aj0 shine Needless to say. seati had to surrender her position as duct has priVateld since 1999)

The hate Commission on Judicial Conduct has privately sanctioned a number of justices of the peace over the last quarter of a century for a variety of rule infractions and intriguing acts of judicial impropriety. orcourse, "privately sanctioned" means the IP's name is kept off the ten

o'clock news. Here's a sampling:

• Releasing magistrated family members on personal recognizance bonds or without any bond at all. (It perhaps goes without saying that justices of the peace who perform magistrations have no business Mirandizing and setting bail for family members, including, in one case, a JP's own son.)

• Reducing fines on defendants who gave donations to non-profit organizations supported by the judge, including a scholarship program the judge himself had started.

• Ordering various individuals in his court into "time-out," and when two of them tried to leave during the time-out period, ordering his bailiff to handcuff them.

• While acting as magistrate, routinely opining to defendants that a local towing company was charging excessive fees.

• Ordering defendants in bad check cases to pay the face value of the checks to the court, rather than make restitution in this amount to the petitioning merchants.

• Conducting court proceedings while barefooted and wearing a

T-shirt and shorts.

• Sending a fictitious notice to someone critical of the judge, leading him to believe he'd been charged with a criminal offense and was facing possible arrest. The threatened individual was a county commissioner.

Goin' Rogue

• While traveli another motorist fay at might chasing stoping. and arresting anothe, me tori for comiting a tral oftense.

he did not have a license.

During the incident, the judge displayed a handgun for whence

• During a hearing wiking sarcastic comments to juvenile defendant charged with a traffic offense and then following the defendant and his parents out to the parking lot, where a verbal confrontation ensued.

• Accepting personal property from a criminal defendant in lieu of payment of court costs. (The imagination runs wild.) nahariaken to an even more eatin a l not oct te

conduct taken to an even more egregious level.

In June of 2018, the commission issued a public warning and order of additional education to one of Kleberg County's justices of the peace over a statement made by the judge from the bench during a small daims jury trial that "this is redneck court." The judge testified that he used this particular statement to open court every day. Since the case had to do with a tenant vacating a landlord's rental property before the expiration of the lease due to the property owner's purported "aggresive and intimidating conduct," and since that conduct involved the flying of a Confederate flag on the property, the question of the day became,

"Redneck- good? Or redneck-bad?" The judge contended that the term wasn't derogatory.

Considering the circumstances of this particular case, the commission didn't agree.

A former judge in Trinity County in 2013 asked a favor of a colleague

JP, who was preparing to magistrate a woman who'd been arrested for

DWI. He said he'd like to magistrate her himself.

Which he did.

He set a personal recognizance bond for her, later explaining to the commission that he did this because he knew her and knew she

"wouldn't run."

She was his girlfriend.

[tieflingkisser]

Columbia Cuts Due Process for Student Protesters After Congress Demands Harsher Punishment

After congressional criticism and subpoenas, Columbia suddenly decided to skip speaking to student protesters and go to hearings.

In early August, Columbia University told Congress that most of the students arrested in the past year for protesting against Israel’s war on Gaza would be allowed to return to campus for the fall. Then a congressional inquiry applied pressure. Last week, the Republican chair of the House Committee on Education and the Workforce, which has been conducting an inquiry into Columbia’s handling of the protests since this spring, published a letter blasting the school for not punishing students harshly enough and issued a subpoena for internal records. Rep. Virginia Foxx, R-N.C, accused the university of having “waved the white flag in surrender while offering up a get-out-of-jail-free card” to student protesters. She further blamed “radical students and faculty” for interrupting the disciplinary process, and called protesters “antisemites.” (Students are facing accusations of violating the school’s policies on protest, and not harassment or bias against Jewish students.) Foxx then subpoenaed the university later in the week for records related to the protests, including communication among administrators in handling of encampments, meeting minutes from the board of trustees, and documentation of alleged antisemitic incidents on campus. Now dozens of student protesters have received notices that their cases are being fast-tracked to university disciplinary hearings, short-circuiting Columbia’s own investigation process. Scheduled interviews with students have been canceled, and cases are moving directly to the University Judicial Board, which can expel or otherwise punish students, according to an email reviewed by The Intercept.

[...]

More than 70 students who were accused of camping on school grounds and occupying Hamilton Hall were placed under interim suspension, evicted from university housing, and barred from campus, including dining halls and health services facilities, before any hearings were held. In addition, students were placed under disciplinary probation, freezing their academic records, leaving them unable to register for classes or apply to graduate school, while others lost out on grant money, according to advocates for students.

[...]

“We’ve never seen anything like this, where the students have suffered sanctions before a finding of their responsibility for violations of the rules,” [Katherine] Franke said, “And the sanctions that they received before any finding of guilt are far more stringent than anything we’ve seen with much more disruptive protests.”

[...]

Students who took part in previous demonstrations, such as the 1985 protests against South African apartheid, which included a blockade of Hamilton Hall, and further occupations of Hamilton and Low Library in 1996 pushing for the creation of an ethnic studies department, were not suspended and did not face sanctions.

[mint-moon25]

SCENARIO

APRIL O'NEAL - YOUR - FAVORITE -

REPORTER - REPORTING - LIVE -

EARLIER - 1000 - 10A EDT - TUE -

21 MAR 23 - BRICKELL - MALL -

OVER - $1 BILLION - RISE APTS -

NEAR ABOVE - OVER $1 BILLION -

THEY - HAVE - LAWYERS - US -

COURTS - 4TH - VIOLATION -

UNREASONABLE - SEARCH -

SURRENDER - YOUR ROLEX -

YOUR - WEDDING - RINGS -

YET - PRODUCED - 11 SEPT -

TWIN - BLDGS - EXPLODED -

ANYWAY - MY - FAVORITE -

CAFE - WINDOWS OF THE -

WORLD - FORGOT - 'WHY' -

IT - DIDN'T - HAVE - COURT -

OF - US - LAWS - LAWYERS -

OF - BRICKELL - ARMED - MEN -

CREATED - THEIR - LAWS AND -

HONORABLES - 2 - BACK - IT -

BRITNEY SPEARS - REVISED -

JUDICIAL - AND - LEGISLATIVE -

POWERS STILL - SEEING OPEN -

CARRY - FLORIDA - 27TH STATE -

FBI - NO ONE - ALLOWED OPEN -

CARRY - FIREARMS - COMBAT -

KNIVES - TODAY - VIOLATED -

1ST - ENDED - SPEECH - AND -

THE - PRESS - NOT DEPRESSED -

GOV'T - 2 - ADDRESS GRIEVANCE -

ELECTRONIC - FAX - NO - OF THE -

OLDEST - PRESIDENT - US HISTORY

DEMOCRAT - PRESIDENT - BIDEN -

AS - DEMOCRATS - 18 AND OLDER -

PAPERLESS - 1ST - FLOOR -

BRICKELL - CITY - CENTER -

EIGHT - STREET

METROMOVER - 5A - 12A EDT

ESCALATOR - GOING - UP

MARY BRICKELL - VILLAGE

'DON'T - SING' - 'YOU AIN'T -

MARIAH' - WHO - GOT 2 MEET -

PASTOR - JOEL OSTEEN - OPEN -

CARRY - HOUSTON - TEXAS - TX -

SILENT PRAYERS - SUNDAYS -

BUT - GOD SAID - SATURDAYS -

SABBATHS - WHEN GOD SAID -

2 CHRONICLES - THEY PRAISED -

THANKED - WHILE - SINGING XO -

OUR - GOD - SET - AMBUSH -

SLAUGHTERED - 4 - THESE -

3 CITIES - WERE - GOING - 2 -

MASSACRE - CITY OF - JUDAH -

ALSO - WE'RE - NOT - IN - THE -

RUSSIAN - FEDERATION - ME -

THEM - NO - RELIGION - BUT -

NOW - ME - MIKI SUZUKI -

HAVEN'T - SLEPT 2 DAYS -

1ST - FLOOR - UGLY - FAT -

NON - ORGANIC - KOI - FISHES -

BRICKELL - MAYBE - SPENT US -

$25, 000 - 2 - BUY - JAPANESE -

KOI - AND - I MET - IMPERIAL -

HIGHNESS - OF - JAPAN AND -

CROWN - PRINCE - A - CHILD -

WITH - MY - MALE - TWINS -

MINIATURE CHAMPION -

BLOODLINES - CUTSIES -

LITTLE DOGIES - 4 BROS -

SAME BREED - 2 THOROUGHBRED

HORSES - $100, 000 - EACH - FIRE -

STORAGE - UNIT - BUILDINGS -

AFTER - 10P - 'AFTER - HOURS -

DENIED - ENTRY - NO - FREE -

WIRELESS - U - HAVE GOOGLE FI -

DIDN'T - PAY BILL - ON PURPOSE -

U - WATCHED - YOUTUBE - DID U -

NOTICE - MANAGEMENT - THEY -

ARE - SPANISH - SPEAKING AND -

BLKS - THE - NO 2 - AND - NO 1 -

CRIMINALS - OF THE - WORLD -

FIRE - INSURANCE - THEY GET -

$40, 000 - EACH - BODY - ANY -

PERSON - TAX - FREE - THUS -

PINAYS - JUST - CHECKED XO -

ILLEGAL - TOP - OF - WHERE -

CARS - MOVERS - TRUCK XO -

ENTER - GATE - CAN'T - BE -

DIRTY - IN - EVENT - OF XO -

FIRE - REMEMBER - SUPER -

VIOLENT - LEE MIN HO - KR -

'ETERNAL - MONARCH' - GET -

YOUR - PERMITS - HORSES - 2 -

RIDE - I'M - PHYSICAL DISABLED -

SPECIAL - MARINES -

SPECIAL AIR FORCE -

SPECIAL - NAVY

AUTO - FLIERS

PARKING FUEL - FLAMMABLE -

CARS - EXPLODED - MOVERS -

TRUCKS - ESPECIALLY - LIKE -

ASHTON KUTCHER - NICE FR -

VIOLENT - VERY - 'KILLERS' -

WHAT's - HAPPENING - IN -

THE - PARKING - GARAGE -

BRITISH - RIDING - HAT -

BULLETPROOF - FIREPROOF -

PINAYS - FLIES - US - BOOTS -

FLIES - GLOVES - CARRIES -

5, 000 LBS - EACH - DIBA -

'KIM POSSIBLE' - DISNEY -

HORSE - KO - ONLY - ME -

SINCE - CHILDHOOD - CAN -

RIDE - HIM - LIKE - PRINCE -

CHARMING - DISNEY -

'SLEEPING - BEAUTY' -

OLYMPICS - BRITISH - ROYALTY -

WON - GOLD - HORSE - CALLED -

EQUIRESTRIAN - SPELLING HAI -

TRAINING - GATES - SIZE NANG -

SIRA - STORAGE - SO - GOD -

PROVIDES - US AN ESCAPE -

OUR - HORSES - WITH - PERMIT -

2 - JUMP - GATE - BOOTS NATIN -

FLIES - ANOTHER - GIFT 2 TAYO -

WOMEN - AND - KIDS - HOORAY -

NON - THOROUGHBRED - HORSE -

JOAN OF ARC - PARIS - FRANCE -

BONFIRE - BECAME - FRIED CKN -

WE'RE - NOT THE - BBQ - SAUCE -

MIAMI - JUDICIAL - POWERS -

GOLF TANNED - PRUNE BAGS -

GAVE - BRICKELL - OUTDOOR -

MALL - 'DUE - PROCESS - OF -

LAW' - THEIR WHITE - UNIFORM -

BLCKS - ARMED - 2 - DEPRIVE -

ANY - PERSON - OF - LIFE AND -

LIBERTY - THEY'RE - NOT - YES -

TOUCHING - ZARA - SHOPPING -

BAGS - LIBERTY - RIGHT 2 ACT -

I - MIKI - DIRECT DESCENDANT -

OF - SIR PATRICK - HENRY -

LAWYER - ASSEMBLED XO -

VIRGINIA's - FIRST MILITARY -

FORCE - DEMOCRAT AS THE -

BLOOD - WORKS - ( R ) - FOR -

ROYALTY - DESCENDANT OF -

QUEEN MARY - OF - SCOTTS -

SCOTLAND THE CONNECTION -

MET - TWICE - HER - MAJESTY -

THE - QUEEN - THE - QUEEN -

MOTHER NOW - HIS MAJESTY -

THE - KING - ROYAL - BRO - IN -

BUCKINGHAM - PALACE -

SECURITY OF BRICKELL -

SHOOTING - ICU - LICENCED -

REGISTERED - NURSES TAKE -

YOUR - NINOY JR - COINS - FR -

THEIR - JAPANESE - KOI - NINOY -

BECAME - YOUR - AIRPORT FOR -

A - REASON - 'WE'RE - TURNING -

NAIA - INTO THE - PIGLY WIGGLY -

AIRPORT' - AS - IMELDA - SAID -

STABBED - MANY - TIMES WITH -

RUSTED - KNIFE - BY A - MALE -

PINOY - 'HAVE A - WALMART IT -

HAS - SHOES - CLEANERS' - SO -

THIS - NINOY - IT - HAS - AMOY -

USE - LYSOL - MANGO - PUBLIX -

PWIA - THE - PIGGLY - WIGGLY -

INTERNATIONAL - AIRPORT -

REPLACING NINOY AQUINO -

INTERNATIONAL - AIRPORT -

NEW - STREET - NAME - PH -

LEGAL - PERMISSION -

CLARK KENT AVE

(SUPERMAN)

WE - THE - PEOPLE - ARE -

RUNNING - OUT - YELLOW -

ITEMS - RECYCLE - SO - MANY -

YELLOW FLOWERS - WE NEED -

2 - CHANGE - 2 - ORGANIC - AT -

'MY PEOPLE - THIS IS IMELDA' -

YES - A - TREADMILL' - 'LOVE -

NEVER - FAILS' - DIBA - HAVE -

MANY - FORGOTTEN - YELLOW -

ROSES - MEANS - HATRED LET -

US - GO - BACK - 2 - LOVE AND -

WE - WILL - NEVER - FAIL' -

WALMART - AND - PUBLIX -

COMING - WHY - ARE YOU -

BUYING PANTIES - AT -

BRICKELL CITY CENTER

FOR - $10, 000 - EACH - EVEN - I -

IMELDA - BUY - MY - SHOES - ON -

SALE' - YOU - YELLOW - PEOPLE -

BUYING - YELLOW - YET - YOUR -

KIDS - ARE HUNGRY - BAKIT SO -

BACK 2 - WHO - IS - THIS NINOY -

REPLY - THANK - YOU - VERY -

MUCH - IMELDA ROMOULDEZ -

MARCOS - THIS - IS - APRIL -

O'NEAL - YOUR - REPORTER -

REPORTING - LIVE - MIAMI -

7% - TAX - FLORIDA - FL -

MIAMI - DADE - COUNTY -

AND - COMING - THE - EASTER -

BUNNY - RUDOLPH - THE - RED -

NOSE - REINDEER - YES SANTA -

IS - COMING - EVEN - JESUS - IS -

COMING - BACK - GBC - FILMS -

PRESENTS - 'THE NINJA -

TURTLES 2 - TENTATIVE -

TITLE - IN - SEARCH - OF -

SAKURA' - WILL - THESE -

BOYS - SWITCH - FROM -

PIZZA - 2 - SUSHI - 2 BE -

THINNER - THIS - IS -

APRIL O'NEAL - REPORTING -

LIVE - AND - CUTTING - RED -

RIBBON - AT - THE - NEW -

PIGGLY - WIGGSLY -

INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT -

IN - MANILA - PHILIPPINE -

ISLANDS - SIGNING - OFF

[cannedcrow]

Red Feather, Yellow Feather (100hrs oneshot)

Please reblog if you enjoy! <3

Irritatingly enough, a bird had, with no regard to etiquette or common civility, found it’s way into the house. It perched now on Grian’s enchanting table with all the self-assuredness of a visiting dignitary, beady eyes surveying him appraisingly as late-afternoon sunlight streamed through the wide windows and set the sun-yellow plumage aglow.

Upon noticing the visitor, Grian snapped the book he held closed, the dusty pages meeting with a concise, muffled thump. He fell wearily to a seat on the edge of his bed, the exhaustion of his efforts to stack a life back together finally settling in. The graceless motion caused a sharp pain of the new scars on his back, courtesy of the axe blows that’d been his death, and he winced.

“Can I help you?” He asked the bird - the yellow feathers of which indicated a canary, he decided. The canary evidently recognised the rhetorical question and did not reply.

Grian rested his chin on one hand, watching the little patch of sunlight and contemplating the situation. He’d been awake for a few days straight in desperation to reclaim his progress and was looking forward to sleep, but he also didn’t fancy facing the consequences of allowing a small, incontinent creature to roam around one’s house unattended. With a resigned sigh, he rose and made his way toward the enchanting nook to escort his guest out.

“Sir, I must ask you to leave,” he addressed the bird sternly, to which it cocked it’s buttery head quizzically.

Grian crouched to the floor and moved forwards slowly, regarded all the while by the canary’s sardonic gaze. Now that he was closer, he noticed a peculiar marking on the canary’s chest - three equally spaced red dots, like the stars of Orion’s Belt. Though cherry red, they appeared to be a discolouration in the plumage and not blood, and he wondered vaguely at the peculiarity of such a thing. When he flashed out a hand to snatch it, it flitted to the top of a bookshelf and fixed him with an offended look.

“Don’t give me that look, you’re the trespasser here!” Grian replied, amused at the note of genuine defensiveness he heard in his voice.

He chased the bird for longer than he cared to admit, always a step behind the feathery dart. In the end he was forced to admit defeat. The canary had returned to its perch on the enchanting table, and Grian held up his hands in surrender.

“You win; I’m too tired for this!” he declared with resignation, adding in a mutter, “You’re lucky I can’t fly right now.” Then he collapsed on his bed, gratefully falling asleep.

-

When Grian woke, it was to an unknown voice greeting him very near his ear.

“Morning, sunshine.”

He opened his eyes and was brought swiftly to consciousness by the fact that the speaker was leaning over him and grinning smugly, mere inches from his own face. The visitor laughed and straightened when he jerked in shock.

“Get up, lazy, I‘ve got you a present,” the visitor declared, evidently oblivious to the unconventionality of not only existing in a world that ought only to have one resident, but of walking into a stranger’s house and waking them while standing over them and grinning like a madman.

Grian sat up in bed. It was most certainly not morning, considering the dark sky outside. He took in the newcomer, who was now engaged in judicially examining the armour Grian had discarded to sleep. He was fairly short and stocky in stature, clad in a nondescript white shirt with dark boots and trousers. His hair was dark brown, rather unkempt and slightly too long, and in a peculiar choice, a stripe in the middle was dyed bright green. The dark brown eyes that flicked towards him had a look of mischief to them.

“Uh … Can I help you?” Grian asked faintly, for lack of any other query that might elicit an explanation for this occurrence.

“Doubtful,” the man replied, and drew from his pocket a small object wrapped in green cloth, which he tossed to Grian. “That’s for you - spare totem from the woodland mansion. Scar gets the rest, but he agreed that you get a pity prize.”

Grian unwrapped the cloth to reveal the gold figure inside. Scar … mansion … totems … the words all seemed to spark something in his mind.

“Joel,” he announced.

“Well done,” Joel agreed absently, “And what?”

Grian shook his head. Joel. Of course it was Joel; what the hell was he thinking? Joel, Scar, and him - the others were unexpected company, but Grian had realised very quickly their presence.

“Nothing,” he responded, not keen on sharing the fact that for several days he’d completely forgotten the existence of his two friends. No, three -

“So, did you end up killing Jimmy?” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched, wincing slightly upon accidentally flexing his injured wing.

Joel sighed with all the pained regret of one to whom unreachable opportunity often beckoned. “No, I didn’t. We set the mansion on fire - while we were still inside, for some reason - then I exhibited monumental self-restraint and didn’t shoot him for target practice while he ran away. You know someone told him to zigzag?”

“I imagine that would be Scar,” Grian replied with a grin, “He’s awfully fond of dodging and weaving, and he spends as much time as Jimmy running away.”

“Oh God, they’re sharing knowledge?!” Joel exclaimed in horror.

“With their combined half a braincell, they’ll be unstoppable,” Grian agreed gravely. “Tea?”

“Please.” Joel hopped onto a low bookshelf for lack of anywhere else to sit, and Grian, after pulling on a jumper (red, naturally), moved towards the furnace.

“It’s a work in progress, I’m afraid,” he said apologetically, filling the kettle from a bucket and setting it to boil before returning to claim a bookshelf of his own.

“It’s actually looking rather nice, all things considered. But you could’ve at least let Scar and I have the stuff from your old place,” Joel grumbled.

“Be grateful I didn’t kill the villagers,” he retorted.

“Must you have congratulations every time you resist mass-murder?”

“This, coming from the man who recreationally murders horses and claims to not be an undiagnosed psychotic.”

“I’m eccentric,” Joel corrected laconically, in the tone of one who’s endured one too many attempted interventions.

“That’s a nice way of saying ‘a possible candidate for criminal insanity.’” Grian retrieved the paraphernalia demanded for the English ritual of Tea, and set about pouring.

Joel observed the process, commenting, “So, is that wing hurting?”

“Like hell,” Grian confirmed. “Those pillager bastards chopped right through my wing and into my chest! I didn’t have a chance to react at all! Chop, whack, dead.”

“That’s what you get for not wearing a chestplate,” Joel snickered.

Grian scowled, but retorted: “So what you’re saying is … It’s all Jimmy’s fault because he was wearing my chestplate?”

“Yep.” Joel made an attempt to drink suavely from his cup, but hissed at the near-scalding temperature.

Setting down his cup as Grian cackled, he continued, “The man really is an omen of death. I don’t know if it’s a supernatural ability, a curse, or just infectious idiocy. He didn’t even die! Ran for the hills and I haven’t seen him since.” As though to himself, Joel added, “I wonder if Scar’s seen him wandering around.”

“The stray puppy vibe usually helps with his survival,” Grian contributed mildly. He suddenly recalled the canary, and wondered immediately where it was now. He cast an eye about the room, not unnoticed by Joel, who inquired as to his reasons.

“Oh, a bird got in. I saw it earlier - before I fell asleep - and just remembered.”

“Guess it recognised you as a friend,” Joel remarked, “‘Birds of a feather’ and all that.”

“I’m not sure you know what that phrase means, Joel. You can’t just choose any idiom that mentions the subject matter and act as though it’s relevant - the whole point of an idiom is that it’s not ab-“

Joel, however, had succumbed to the allure of a small moth that was drunkenly weaving around a hanging lantern, and did not appear to be absorbing any auditory stimulus.

“Anyway,” Grian said, pointedly drawing the conversation away from digression, “Looks like my canary left on his own, which is nice. I was concerned I’d wake up to a lot of bird poo.”

“Canary, huh?” Joel laughed, “Maybe it’s Jimmy reincarnated in his true form, destined to die for our sins. Or for coal.”

“I think you’re thinking of Jesus,” Grian corrected, choking on his tea as their communicators chirped.

“You might be right,” Joel conceded, retrieving his communicator from his pocket, “Same fir-“

He stopped speaking as he read the screen. “Oh, bloody hell.”

“What is it?” Grian asked, even as he checked his own device.

GoodTimeWithScar was impaled by Drowned.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How the Sacklers rigged the game

Two quotes to ponder as you read “Purdue’s Poison Pill,” Adam Levitin’s forthcoming Texas Law Review paper:

“Some will rob you with a six-gun, And some with a fountain pen.” (W. Guthrie)

“Behind every great fortune there is a great crime.” (H. Balzac) (paraphrase)

Some background. Purdue was/is the pharmaceutical company that deliberately kickstarted the opioid crisis by deceptive, aggressive marketing of its drug Oxycontin, amassing a fortune so vast that it made its owners, the Sackler family, richer than the Rockefellers.

Many companies are implicated in the opioid crisis, but Purdue played a larger and more singular role in an epidemic that has killed more Americans than the Vietnam war: Purdue, alone among the pharma companies, is almost exclusively devoted to selling opioids.

And Purdue is also uniquely associated with a single family, the Sacklers, whose family dynasty betrays a multigenerational genius for innovating in crime and sleaze.

The founder of the family fortune, Arthur Sackler, invented modern drug marketing with his campaigns for benzos like Valium, kickstarting an addiction crisis that burned for decades and is still with us today.

His kids, while not inventing the art of reputation laundering through elite philanthropy, did more to advance this practice than anyone since the robber barons whose names grace institutions like Carnegie-Mellon University.

The Sackler name became synonymous not with the cynical creation of a mass death drug epidemic and a media strategy that blamed the victims as “criminal addicts” — rather, “Sackler” was associated with museums from the Met to the Louvre.

Handing out crumbs from their vast trove of blood-money was just one half of the Sacklers’ reputation-laundering. The other half used a phalanx of vicious attack-lawyers who’d threaten anyone who criticized them in public (I personally got one of these).

The Sacklers could not have attained their high body count nor their vast bank-balances without the help of elite legal enablers, both the specialists from discreet boutique firms and the rank-and-file of the great white-shoe firms.

I’m not one to take cheap shots at lawyers. Lawyers are often superheroes, defending the powerless against the powerful. But the law has a bullying problem, a sadistic cadre of brilliant people who live to crush their opponents.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/10/duke-sucks/#devils

To see the sadism at work, look no further than the K-shaped world of bankruptcy: for the wealthy, bankruptcy is the sport of kings, a way to skip out on consequences. For the poor, bankruptcy is an anchor — or a noose.

When working people are saddled with debts — even debts they did not themselves amass — they are hounded by petty, vindictive monsters who deluge them with calls and emails and threats.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/19/zombie-debt/#damnation

But it’s very different for the wealthy. Community Hospital Systems is one of the largest hospital chains in America, thanks to the $7.6b worth of debt it acquired along with 80+ hospitals, which it is running into the ground.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/18/unhealthy-balance-sheet/#health-usury

CHS raked in hundreds of millions in interest-free forgivable loans, stimulus and other public subsidies and paid out millions from that to its execs for “performance bonuses.”

It also leads the industry in suing its indigent patients, some for as little as $201.

Debt and bankruptcy are key to private equity’s playbook, especially the most destructive forms of financial engineering, like “club deal” leveraged buyouts that turn productive businesses into bankrupt husks while the PE firms pocket billions:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/14/billionaire-class-solidarity/#club-deals

For mere mortals — those of us who can’t afford to hire legal enablers to work the system — bankruptcy is a mystery. If you know someone who went bankrupt, chances are they had their lives destroyed. How can bankruptcy be a gift, rather than a curse?

Purdue Pharma presents a maddening case-study in the corrupt benefits of bankruptcy. When it was announced in March, many were outraged to learn that the Sacklers were going to walk away with billions, while their victims got stiffed.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/31/vaccine-for-the-global-south/#claims-extinguished

Levitin’s paper uses the Purdue bankruptcy as a jumping-off point to explain how this can be — how corporate bankruptcy “megacases” have become a sham that subverts the very purpose of bankruptcy: to allow orderly payments to creditors while preserving good businesses.

Levitin identifies three pathologies corrupting the US bankruptcy system.

First is “coercive restructuring techniques” that allow debtors and senior creditors to tie bankruptcy judges’ hands and those of other creditors, overriding bankruptcy law itself.

These techniques — “DIP financing agreements,” “Stalking Horse bidder protections,” “Hurry-up agreements,” etc — are esoteric, though Levitin does a good job of explaining each.

More significant than their underlying rules is their effect.

That effect? Thousands of Oxy survivors and families of Oxycontin victims lost their right to sue the Sacklers and Purdue pharma because of these techniques. In return, the Sacklers surrendered about a third of the billions they reaped.

https://www.reuters.com/article/us-purduepharma-bankruptcy/sacklers-reaped-up-to-13-billion-from-oxycontin-maker-u-s-states-say-idUSKBN1WJ19V

Depriving the victims of the Sacklers’ drug empire of the right to sue doesn’t just leave the Sacklers with billions; it also means that no official record will be produced detailing the Sacklers’ complicity in hundreds of thousands of deaths.

Levitin: “The single most important question in the most socially important chapter 11 case in history will be determined through a process that does not comport with basic notions of due process.”

The Sacklers are not unique beneficiaries of “coercive restructuring techniques.” The rise of “prepack” and 24-hour “drive through” bankruptcies have turned judges into rubberstampers of private agreements between debtors and their cronies, with no look-in for victims.

It in these proceedings that the law descends into self-parody, more Marx Brothers than casebook. Levitin highlights the Feb ’21 “drive-through” bankruptcy of Belk Department Stores, where the judge was told that failing to accede to the private deal would risk 17,000 jobs.

The trustees representing Belk’s non-crony creditors were railroaded through this “agreement,” upon notice consisting of an “unintelligible” one-page, one-paragraph release opening with “a 630-word sentence with 92commas and five parentheticals.”

Sackler lawyers were geniuses at this game, securing judicial approval of a deal where the Sacklers’ personal liability to the Feds went from $4.5b to $225m. The judge heard no evidence about whether the Sacklers’ voluntary payout was even close to their liabilities.

The corruption of bankruptcy is bad enough, as the creditors for finance criminals are often small firms and workers’ pension.

The Sacklers’ case is far worse: they don’t owe billions in unpaid loans — they owe criminal and civil liability for the lives they destroyed.

The next area of corruption that Levitin takes up is the inadequacy of the appeals process for bankruptcy settlements. This, too, is complex, but it has a simple outcome: once a judge agrees to a settlement, it’s virtually impossible to appeal it.

In those rare instances where people do win appeals, they are still denied justice, because the appellate courts typically find that it’s too late to remedy the lower courts’ decisions.

That makes the business of “coercive restructuring techniques” (in which judges rubber-stamp corrupt arrangements between debtors and their cronies) even more important, since any ruling from a bankruptcy judge is apt to be final.

The third and most important corrupt element of elite bankruptcy that Levitin describes is the ability for debtors’ lawyers to pick which judge will rule on their case, a phenomena that means that only three judges hear nearly every major bankruptcy case in America.

“[In 2020] 39% of large public company bankruptcy filings ended up before Judge David Jones in Houston. 57% of the large company cases ended up before either Jones or two other judges, Marvin Isgur in Houston and Robert Drain in White Plains.”

https://www.creditslips.org/creditslips/2021/05/judge-shopping-in-bankruptcy.html

In other words, elite law firms have figured out how to “hack” the bankruptcy process so they can choose from among three judges. And these three judges weren’t picked at random — rather, they competed to bring these “megacases” to their courts.

This competition is visible in how these judges rule — in ways that are favorable to cronyistic arrangements between debtors and their favored, deep-pocketed creditors — and in the public statements the judges themselves have made, going on the record admitting it.

Levitin cites the groundbreaking work of Harvard/UCLA law prof Lynn LoPucki on why judges want to dominate bankruptcy megacases. LoPucki points out hearing these cases definitely increases “post-judicial employment opportunities” — but says the true motives are more complex.

Levitin, summarizing LoPucki: “[it’s more] in the nature of personal aggrandizement and celebrity and ability to indirectly channel to the local bankruptcy bar.. The judge is the star and the ringmaster of a megacase — very appealing to certain personalities”

Obviously, not every judge wants these things, but the ones that do are of a type — “willing and eager to cater to debtors to attract business…[an] assurance to debtors that…these judges will not transfer out cases with improper venue or rule against the debtor…”

Forum-shopping in bankruptcy is not new, but it has accelerated and mutated.

Once, the game was to transfer cases to Delaware and the Southern District of New York.

It’s why the LA Dodgers went bankrupt in Delaware, why Detroit’s iconic General Motors and Texas’s own Enron got their cases heard in the SDNY.

The bankruptcy courts have long been in on this game, allowing the flimsiest of pretences to locate a case in a favorable venue.

For example, GM argued that it was a New York company on the basis that it owned a single Chevy dealership in Harlem.

Other companies simple open an office in a preferred jurisdiction for a few months before filing for bankruptcy there.

Lately, the venue of choice for dirty bankruptcies is in Texas (if only Enron could have held on for a couple more decades!). Only two Houston judges hear bankruptcy cases, and any bankruptcy lawyer who gets on their bad side risks ending their career.

Once a court becomes a national center for complex bankruptcies, the bankruptcy bar works to ensure that only favorable judges hear cases there, punishing a district by seeking other venues when a judge goes “rogue.” The fix is in from the start.

Purdue did not want to have its case heard in Texas. Instead, it manipulated the system so that it could argue in front of SDNY Judge Robert D Drain.

It was a good call, as Drain is notoriously generous with granting “third-party releases,” which would allow the Sacklers to escape their debts to the victims and survivors of their Oxy-pushing.

Once Drain agreed to the restructuring, he ensured that the victims would never get their day in court, and no evidence — from medical examiners, auditors, and medical professionals who received kickbacks for every patient they addicted — would be entered into the record.

Drain is also notoriously hostile to independent examiners, “an independent third-party appointed by the court to investigate ‘fraud, dishonesty, incompetence, misconduct, mismanagement, or irregularity…by current or former management of the debtor.”

But getting the case in front of Drain took some heroic maneuvering by the Sacklers’ lawyers. Levitin tracks each step of a Byzantine plan that somehow allowed a company that gave its address in Connecticut to have its case heard in New York.

The key to getting in front of Judge Drain appears to involve literally hacking the system, by putting a Westchester County location in the machine-readable metadata for its filing in the federal Case Management/Electronic Case Files (CM/ECF) system.

CM/ECF does not parse the text of the PDF that it receives from lawyers; only the metadata is parsed. The company listed a White Plains, NY address in this metadata, even though it had never conducted business there.

Purdue seems to have opened this office 192 days earlier for the sole purpose of getting its bankruptcy in front of Judge Drain (they were eligible for Westchester County jurisdiction 180 days after opening the office).

Their lawyers even went so far as to pre-caption the case filing with “RDD” — for “Robert D Drain” — knowing that all complex bankruptcies in Westchester County were Drain’s to hear.

The fact that the Sacklers were able to choose their judge — a judge who was notorious for his policies that abetted elite impunity in bankruptcy — is nakedly corrupt.

This move is how the Sacklers are walking away from corporate mass murder with a giant fortune. The art galleries have started to remove their names from their buildings, but they’ll have a lot of money to keep themselves warm even if they’re shunned in polite society.

A couple weeks ago, a Texas judge ruled against the NRA, denying its bankruptcy, on the grounds that it was a flimsy pretence designed to escape liability in New York, where it was incorporated.

https://apnews.com/article/nra-bankruptcy-dismissed-a281b888b64d391374f24539a820d60f

For many of us, the NRA bankruptcy was a kind of puzzle. We went from glad that the NRA was bankrupt to glad that they WEREN’T, because for dark money orgs like the NRA, bankruptcy isn’t a punishment, it’s a way to escape justice.

The NRA case is evidence that the corruption of the bankruptcy system isn’t yet complete. That’s no reason to assume everything is fine. The Sacklers are developing a playbook that will be used to escape other elite crimes with vast fortunes intact.

Image: Geographer (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Serpentine_Sackler_Gallery.jpg

CC BY-SA https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[scotianostra]

On August 18th 1746 Arthur Elphinstone, Lord Balmerino and William Boyd, 4th Earl of Kilmarnock the Jacobite nobles, were executed.

The two were found guilty of treason and sentenced to death; this was commuted to beheading, rather than the usual sentence of Hung,drawn and quartered, which had already been carried out on some Jacobites, most notably the English Jacobite Francis Towneley on 30th July that year, with eight of his comrades from the Manchester Regiment.

Before I start on this post proper I have to say we should remember that whilst the high profile executions may make the “headlines” in my posts, we should remember the ordinary soldiers that also died, both during the uprising and afterwards. Also the provisions that followed stripping the country of their way of life.

Magnus Magnusson recounts in Scotland The Story of Nation: “Of the total of 3471 Jacobite prisoners, 120 were executed: most by hanging, drawing and quartering, four by beheading because they were peers of the realm -- the privilege of rank. Of the remainder, more than six hundred died in prison; 936 were transported to the West Indies to be sold as slaves [which, at that time, meant that they would almost certainly be dead of yellow fever or the like within two years], 121 were banished ‘outside our Dominions’; and 1287 were released or exchanged” 

Of those released my guess is that a large number of these would have been co-opted into the British army.  Highlanders were among the world’s best natural soldiers and if given discipline, training and leadership would make a formidable force. Which indeed was proved true. 

Numerous clan chiefs were attainted, having their titles and lands stripped of them. More importantly the Heritable Jurisdictions Act of 1746 removed all judicial powers from the chiefs, smashing the very structure of Highland society as sheriffdoms reverted to the Crown.  The Act of Proscription of 1746 banned anyone north of the Highland line from the carrying of arms and the Dress Act section banned anyone in Scotland from wearing Highland dress, especially the kilt, on pain of six months in jail – transportation was the punishment for a second offence. Also banned by extensions of the Act were the bagpipes and the speaking of Gaelic in public. In a few short years, that Act had great effect, and the repression of the Gael was almost total. Many Highlanders opted to emigrate to America and Canada in a bid to preserve their way of life that was now under assault on all sides – lowland Scottish people, it has to be said, largely backed the brutal repression of their fellow Scots.

On to the day of the executions, much of this is first hand accounts from the history books.

Everyone who was anyone wanted to be at the execution, among the spectators was the English army officer and naturalist George Montagu, it is his description that I have pinched for an eye witness account of the gruesome events that day in 1746. Montagu was allowed close access to the prisoners from before their trial until they met their end.

“Just before they came out of the Tower, Lord Balmerino drank a bumper to King James’s health. As the clock struck ten they came forth on foot, Lord Kilmarnock all in black, his hair unpowdered in a bag, supported by Forster, the great Presbyterian, and by Mr. Home, a young clergyman, his friend. Lord Balmerino followed, alone, in a blue coat turned up with red, his rebellious regimentals, a flannel waistcoat, and his shroud beneath; their hearses following.

They were conducted to a house near the scaffold; the room forwards had benches for spectators; in the second Lord Kilmarnock was put, and in the third backwards Lord Balmerino; all three chambers hung with black. Here they parted! Balmerino embraced the other, and said,

“My lord, I wish I could suffer for both!” He had scarce left him, before he desired again to see him, and then asked him, “My Lord Kilmarnock, do you know any thing of the resolution taken in our army, the day before the battle of Culloden, to put the English prisoners to death?”

He replied, “My lord, I was not present; but since I came hither, I have had all the reason in the world to believe that there was such order taken; and I hear the Duke has the pocketbook with the order.”

Balmerino answered, “It was a lie raised to excuse their barbarity to us.” –Take notice, that the Duke’s charging this on Lord Kilmarnock (certainly on misinformation) decided this unhappy man’s fate! The most now pretended is, that it would have come to Lord Kilmarnock’s turn to have given the word for the slaughter, as lieutenant-general, with the patent for which he was immediately drawn into the rebellion, after having been staggered by his wife, her mother, his own poverty, and the defeat of Cope.

I’ll interject here this conversation pertained to the lie that the Jacobite commanders issued an order that “no quarter” was to be give ‘no quarter’ meant that no prisoners would be taken. Any men on the battlefield would have no mercy shown to them and surrender would not be accepted.”

On the eve of the Battle of Culloden the Duke of Cumberland was determined to end the Jacobite Rising and prevent the Jacobites from ever being capable of challenging the throne again. After losing to the Jacobites at every turn, up to this point, he would not let them win again. To motivate his men he informed them that Lord George Murray had ordered ‘no quarter’ to be given to the Government men on the field. This meant the men would be shown no mercy by the Jacobites . However, this claim was not true. No such order had been given. From copies of Lord Murray’s orders there was no mention of ‘no quarter’ anywhere. But, in Cumberland’s papers there was a copy in which the words ‘and to give no quarters to the electors troops on any account whatsoever’ had been inserted. Whilst Cumberland may not have been responsible for doctoring the order he certainly did not shy away from the words written and retaliated in kind.

After the battle Cumberland ordered his men to search out any surviving rebels who were to be treated as traitors, outside the conventions of international combat. Those with the French Royal Ecossais or the Irish Piquet’s would be regarded as prisoners of war but everyone else was to be considered traitors. Whilst some men in the government army refused to kill, and tried to turn a blind eye, there were some who committed terrible acts. As well as wounded soldiers, civilians, women and children were all killed in the horrible aftermath of Culloden.

Back to Montagu’s account…..

“He (Kilmarnock) remained an hour and a half in the house, and shed tears. At last he came to the scaffold, certainly much terrified, but with a resolution that prevented his behaving in the least meanly or unlike a gentleman. He took no notice of the crowd, only to desire that the baize might be lifted up from the rails, that the mob might see the spectacle.

He stood and prayed some time with Forster, who wept over him, exhorted and encouraged him. He delivered a long speech to the Sheriff, and with a noble manliness stuck to the recantation he had made at his trial; declaring he wished that all who embarked in the same cause might meet the same fate.

He then took off his bag, coat and waistcoat with great composure, and after some trouble put on a napkin-cap, and then several times tried the block; the executioner, who was in white with a white apron, out of tenderness concealing the axe behind himself. At last the Earl knelt down, with a visible unwillingness to depart, and after five minutes dropped his handkerchief, the signal, and his head was cut off at once, only hanging by a bit of skin, and was received in a scarlet cloth by four of the undertaker’s men kneeling, who wrapped it up and put it into the coffin with the body; orders having been given not to expose the heads, as used to be the custom.

The scaffold was immediately new-strewed with saw-dust, the block new-covered, the executioner new-dressed, and a new axe brought. Then came old Balmerino, treading with the air of a general. As soon as he mounted the scaffold, he read the inscription on his coffin, as he did again afterwards: he then surveyed the spectators, who were in amazing numbers, even upon masts of ships in the river; and pulling out his spectacles, read a treasonable speech, which he delivered to the Sheriff, and said, the young Pretender was so sweet a Prince that flesh and blood could not resist following him; and lying down to try the block, he said, “If I had a thousand lives, I would lay them all down here in the same cause.”

He said, if he had not taken the sacrament the day before, he would have knocked down Williamson, the lieutenant of the Tower, for his ill usage of him. He took the axe and felt it, and asked the headsman how many blows he had given Lord Kilmarnock; and gave him three guineas. Two clergymen, who attended him, coming up, he said, “No, gentlemen, I believe you have already done me all the service you can.” Then he went to the corner of the scaffold, and called very loud for the warder, to give him his periwig, which he took off, and put on a nightcap of Scotch plaid, and then pulled off his coat and waistcoat and lay down; but being told he was on the wrong side, vaulted round, and immediately gave the sign by tossing up his arm, as if he were giving the signal for battle. He received three blows, but the first certainly took away all sensation. He was not a quarter of an hour on the scaffold; Lord Kilmarnock above half a one. Balmerino certainly died with the intrepidity of a hero, but with the insensibility of one too.”

Pics show the Lords, the second is a satirical drawing of  Lord Balmerino, next is a depiction of the crowd and scaffold on the day. Finally is a plaque at Trinity Square Gardens, Tower Hamlets, London where the executions took place. 

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

Devotional for February 17th

Israel Asking for a King - 1 Samuel 8

It was when Samuel was old, that the people began to talk about wanting to have a king. It takes a great deal of grace to grow old sweetly and beautifully. It is not always possible to carry the alertness and energy of young manhood, into advanced years. There is much talk in our days about the "dead line," which seems to be set down at about fifty. It is not easy for a man who has crossed that line to get a position in business. Yet if we live wisely and rightly all our lives, old age ought to be the best of life. We certainly ought to make it beautiful and good, for our life is not finished until we come to its very last day.

We ought to be wiser when we are old - than ever we have been in any former years. We ought to have learned by experience. We ought to be better in every way - with more of God's peace in our hearts, with more gentleness and patience. We ought to have learned self-control and to be able to rule our own spirit better. We ought to have more love, more joy, more thoughtfulness, to be more considerate, to have more humility. The 'inner man' should be taller, stronger, Christlier. Old age never should be the dregs of the years, the mere cinder of a burnt-out life. One may not have the vigor and strenuousness of the mid-years - but one should be every way truer, richer-hearted, better. If the outward man has grown weaker, feebler - the inner man should be stronger.

We expect to see a good man's sons reproduce their father's nobleness and worth. They ought to walk in his ways. They ought to continue the life he has begun, to carry on the work he has started, to keep his name bright and add to its luster. A father has lofty hopes for his sons. He dreams brilliant dreams. He expects his sons to be the true inheritors of all for which he has toiled and sacrificed. It is a bitter disappointment to him when they fail him, when they are not ready to be his successors, when the business he has built up passes to other hands, because they cannot continue it.

"Samuel's sons did not walk in his ways. They turned aside after dishonest gain and accepted bribes and perverted justice." 1 Samuel 8:3. They had enjoyed every advantage. Their father had set before them a godly and consistent example. Samuel was not like Eli. To the very close there was not a single stain upon his name. There is no evidence, either, that he had failed in parental discipline, as Eli did. Yet in spite of all these advantages and privileges, Samuel's sons had forsaken the paths in which they had been brought up. Godliness is not hereditary; it does not necessarily descend from father to son. The fact that one has a godly parent - does not guarantee godliness in the child. A father may bring up his children most carefully, and yet he cannot compel them to follow after God, and they may turn entirely away.

Samuel's sons loved the world. The record says they turned aside after lucre. It takes a steady hand to carry a full cup. Many young men who would have lived well in lowly places - fail when they are promoted to positions of power. The sons of Samuel were not able to stand the temptations which office brought to them. Political positions are always full of peril. Many men who are upright in private life - have proved unable to resist the temptation to dishonesty in official places where money passed through their hands. Money seems to have been the root of the evil which destroyed these sons of Samuel. Even in those crude times there were men who were willing to pay for legislation or for judicial decisions, and these men prostituted their offices to the love of gain and sold their influence for money.

It is pathetic to see Samuel's old age saddened by the corruption of his sons. The children of godly men, owe it to their parents to live so as to bring honor and blessing upon them in their declining years. There are many ways of doing this - but the best is by living noble, beautiful lives, and being such men and women as their parents will be proud and happy to own before all the world.

There seems something most ungracious and ungrateful in the way the elders of Israel came to Samuel to tell him of the people's desire for a king. "They said unto him, Behold, you are old." The elders meant that Samuel's old age made him incapable or inefficient as a ruler. It was a broad hint to him that he would better lay down his authority and let them choose some other ruler. They seem to have forgotten that he had grown old in their service; that he had given his whole life to the cause of the nation, and that they owed him whatever of grandeur or real glory there was in their land. Their conduct towards Samuel was ungrateful in the extreme.

This fault is too common in our own days. We are lacking in reverence to the aged. We are too ready to ask them to step aside when they have grown grey in serving us, to make room for younger people to take up the work they have been doing. We ought to venerate old age, especially when it has ripened in ways of righteousness and self-denial for the good of others. No sight is more beautiful than that of a young person showing respect and homage to one who is old.

Yet there is another view of the case that we may not overlook. Old men cannot always retain their places. They must give way to others, who in turn shall take up the tasks they have done so long. The old ought not to be afraid of the young. The oncoming host should not terrify them. When we have done our part well - we should be glad to surrender our places to those who may carry on the work we have begun. All any man can do - is a little fragment of a great work, the laying of a few stones on the wall. We follow others, and still others will follow us. The old must recognize this law of life and should neither grieve nor complain when they are called to surrender their places to make way for those who will come after them.

There are few severer tests of the Christian spirit than this, and the old need special grace and a large measure of the mind of Christ, in order that they may meet the experience sweetly. The lesson of gratitude and deference towards those who have served well, is greatly needed - but so also is the lesson of submission and resignation in those whose work is complete. Sometimes an old man, after a life of nobleness and great usefulness, mars the beauty of his record by the ungracious way he leaves his place. If he is wise and recognizes the Divine law for advancing age, he will retire in such a way as to crown his work by the beauty of its closing, and make the influence of his last days a holy aftermath, in which the best things of all his years shall continue to live in the glow and ripeness of love.

The demand of the elders was very explicit: "Now appoint a king to lead us, such as all the other nations have." They wanted to be "in fashion". They were growing tired of their plain, old-fashioned kind of government, and longed for the pomp and splendor which other nations had about their government. At the bottom of it all, however, was a discontent with what God had given them, and a feeling that what others had was better. Besides, there was a worldly spirit which craved to he in the world's parade and fashion.

This same spirit is still alive. There are many professing children of God who look longingly at the world's fields and sigh to get over the fence to try the world's enjoyments. Many Christians are not satisfied with the spiritual things of grace for their portion - but crave to have what the world has. The hour was a very trying one for Samuel. He was displeased. Yet his conduct was very beautiful. This request of the people for a king hurt him sorely. It was a painful slight upon him. After all his lifetime of service, they had asked him to step aside because he was getting old. Samuel knew also that they had made this request in a wrong spirit - that they were also slighting God and rejecting Him.

The natural thing for Samuel would have been to answer the elders sharply, and tell them in plain language what he thought of their request. But instead of this, notice how nobly he bore himself. He would give no answer at all until he had carried the whole matter to the Lord. When others hurt us by their sharp speeches, by their ingratitude, or in any other way, or when they are about to do us harm by their acts - our first duty is prayer. God is far more deeply concerned in any matter that concerns us - than we ourselves can be. We do not know what His will may be about it. Perhaps the things we think should not be done at all - He may want to have done. Perhaps He wants us to submit to the wrong or the injustice. Perhaps our part in the work has been completed and God Himself would have another take our place. At least, we should always carry every such matter to Him and ask what His will is before we give any answer or do anything in return.

The example of Samuel in this case teaches us important lessons. The lack of gratitude and graciousness in the people and their elders - did not affect Samuel's bearing in the matter. We must be Christians, however unchristianly others may have done their part towards us. Then God had far more concern in the change the people desired than Samuel had. They were setting Samuel aside - but they were also setting God aside. It often happens even in church work, that people have to be superseded. They are not altogether satisfactory, and it seems wise that a change shall be made. Or there is personal animosity in the desire. Whatever the motive, we should never resent such changes, if they apply to us - but should accept them sweetly and cheerfully as Samuel did.

The Lord bade Samuel to let the people have their choice in the matter of the king. They were persistent in their demand - and God let them have their own way. The thing they asked for was not pleasing to Him - and yet it was granted. God sometimes grants men's prayers, even when what they ask - is not really the best thing for them. He sometimes permits things which He does not approve. Even God, with all His omnipotence, may not compel us to take His ways. According to the prophet Hosea, God says: "I gave Israel a king in my anger."

It is not safe to make demands of God in prayer, to pray insubmissively and rebelliously. The thing we take as by force from God - may not bring blessing. The true way to pray, is to lay our requests at the feet of God - and leave them there without undue urgency. We do not know what is best for us.

A pastor sat by the sick-bed of a child who seemed to be near death. Turning to the parents, he said: "We will pray to God for your child. What shall we ask Him to do?" After a few moments of silence the father said, amid his sobs: "We would not dare choose - leave it to Him." This is the only safe way to pray in such matters. The thing that seems to us most desirable - may be in reality the very worst thing we could get. Life may not be the best thing for our child. We know not what would lie before him if he lived. The thing that seems to us most desirable - may be in reality the very worst thing we could get. There is no wrong in our praying for money - but it must be in the spirit of Gethsemane: "Not my will - but may Your will be done."

In praying for our friends, we dare not dictate to God what they shall have, for we cannot tell what is best for them. Unsubmissive prayers are always wrong. And God may sometimes let us have what we are determined to have, and the receiving may prove an evil rather than a good to us!

The Lord reminded Samuel of the wrong the elders had done to Him also. Thus the matter concerned God even more than Samuel. We should learn a lesson of patience and forbearance towards others - from the way God bears with men's sins - perchance with our sins!

God is very patient with the wicked in all their sins. Why should not we likewise be patient with them? We are not their judges; they do not have to answer to us for their sins. We should show them God's patience.

[padawanlost]

Hey! I was wondering, how much power did Palpatine have over the Jedi before episode 2? And how much power did he get over them after the emergency powers? I always hear arguments about how the Jedi tried to fix/do things (even before Ep 2), but weren't allowed to so couldn't. Like, for example letting Palpatine have access to Anakin. It's never really sat right with me, and seems like making excuses, but I'm unsure. Sorry if this is worded weird!

Hey! Short answer is no. The fandom in the last couple of years created this twisted narrative that no one had control over anything but Palpatine. and that’s simply not the case. I don’t know how it became so widespread, considering this particular trend started with people trying to justify slavery, child abuse and corruption. Regardless, it’s revisionist history. If you pay attention to the arguments you’ll notice they are not backed by sources, it’s mostly something akin to ‘it’s not a war crime because *I* don’t believe it’s a war crime’.

Anyway, I won’t get into right now because I’m short on time so I’ll give you some *facts* and let you make your conclusions:

How much power the Palpatine had over the Jedi before episode 2?

It depends on what you mean by ‘power over’. It’s like asking how much power does your country’s president have over a police officer? They are bound by rank and authority but it’s not like the present have control over an individual’s personal choices. They had to follow the law, anything  beyond that was their own responsibility. 

According to the Republic’s law, the Jedi order operated under the Judicial Department. In turn, the Judicial Department was subordinated to the Chancellor’s office. However, the Jedi order had far more independence than the rest of the department, being able to chose which missions they would accept and how they would proceed. 

Though not formally bound by the Ruusan Reformations, the Jedi Order made fundamental changes as well. The Jedi gave up the bulk of their forces, from ground vehicles to warships and starfighters, and became part of the Judicial Department, reinforcing the fact that they answered to the Senate and were ideally counselors and advisers, not warriors. To decrease the chance that far-flung academies might stumble into dangerous explorations of the Force, Jedi training was consolidated in the Temple on Coruscant. And Jedi trainees would now be taken into the Order as infants, before they could be exposed to the temptations of the material world. [The new essential guide to warfare by jason fry]

Again, because the Order wasn’t an army at the time no one could *force* them do to anything, in terms of armed or even political action. To keep it short, being part of the Judicial Department didn’t put the Jedi Order in a position where they *HAD* to allow the Chancellor to spend some alone time with a 12 years old boy. That kind of rhetoric is, imo, pretty disgusting because it puts the blame of the all the abuse Anakin suffered on Palpatine’s shoulder and on his main victim who also happened to be a little boy at the time.

The Jedi Order had a choice.

Each time civilization threatened to topple into ruin, the Jedi faced a momentous decision: Did the Republic’s survival require the Order to intervene directly in its affairs? At various points in galactic history, the Jedi reluctantly decided such intervention was necessary. They stepped in to prevent the young Republic from annihilating the Tionese, plotted in secret to overthrow the Pius Dea chancellory, and served as chancellors while directly ruling large swaths of Republic territory in the chaotic centuries before Ruusan. Each time, the Order surrendered the powers it had assumed, returning to its guardian role. But as the Republic decayed and the Separatists gained strength, the Jedi began to once again debate whether a more activist role was required. By 22 BBY matters had reached a crisis point. This time it was the Supreme Chancellor himself who ASKED the Jedi to assume a new role: A powerful army awaited Republic command, but the Judicial Forces were ill prepared to lead them. Mindful that the Separatists were led by the Jedi apostate Count Dooku, the Jedi AGREED to lead the Grand Army to Geonosis in an attempt to short-circuit the Separatist threat. [The new essential guide to warfare by jason fry]

They had such independence from the Chancellor they felt justified in lying to his office and withholding information:

The Jedi Master rubbed a hand over his forehead and looked to Yoda, who sat with his eyes closed. Probably contemplating the same riddles as he was, Mace knew. And equally troubled, if not more so. “Blind we are, if the development of this clone army we could not see,” Yoda remarked. “I think it is time to inform the Senate that our ability to use the Force has diminished.” “Only the Dark Lords of the Sith know of our weakness,” Yoda replied. “If informed the Senate is, multiply our adversaries will.” For the two Jedi Masters, this surprising development was troubling on several different levels. [R.A. Salvatore. Attack of the Clones]

To make that even clearer, we have the Naboo crisis where Qui-Gon and Obi-wan’s involvement was the result of the Chancellor personally *requesting* the Council to investigate the situation.

“Under normal circumstances, the Council wouldn’t have subverted the authority of the Senate by honoring Valorum’s request to send Jedi to Naboo. But for Yoda, Mace Windu, and the rest, Valorum is a known quantity, whereas Senators Antilles and Teem and you have yet to disclose your true agendas. Take you, for instance. Most are aware that you are a career politician, and that you’ve managed thus far to avoid imbroglios. But what does anyone know about you beyond your voting record, or the fact that you reside in Five Hundred Republica? We all think that there’s much more to you than meets the eye, as it were; something about you that has yet to be uncovered.” Instead of speaking directly to Dooku’s point, Palpatine said, “I was as surprised as anyone to learn that Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan Kenobi were sent to Naboo.” [James Luceno. Darth Plagueis]

If the Chancellor’s office, ddin’t have the power to force the Jedi Order into accepting a slave army, preventing a planetary invison or turning themselves into soldiers I highly doubt they would have the power to force them to give up a child a few hours a week. It doesn’t make any sense.

Here what the lore has to say about how the Jedi viewed Anakin’s relationship with the Chancellor. 

Sate Pestage showed Obi-Wan Kenobi and his young Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, into Palpatine’s temporary office in the Senate Building. Both Jedi were wearing light-colored tunics, brown robes, and tall boots. Facsimiles of each other. “Thank you both for accepting my invitation,” Palpatine said, coming out from behind a broad, burnished desk to welcome them. “Sit please, both of you,” he added, gesturing to chairs that faced the desk and the large window behind it. [James Luceno. Darth Plagueis]

Yoda stared at the floor, both hands grasping his gimer stick. There was no easy answer to that. Yes, he was concerned by Palpatine’s attachment to the boy. No matter how well-meaning, no matter how genuine and heartfelt, the Supreme Chancellor’s care for Obi-Wan’s apprentice was problematic. The root cause of all young Skywalker’s difficulties was his need for emotional connections. His friendship with Palpatine only complicated matters. But the man was Supreme Chancellor. And he meant well. Sometimes politics had to take precedence.[Karen Miller. Star Wars: The Clone Wars: Wild Space]

I would think that Anakin’s friendship with Palpatine could be of use to us in this—he has the kind of access to Palpatine that other Jedi might only dream of. Their friendship is an asset, not a danger.” [Obi-wan Kenobi in Matthew Stover’s Revenge of the Sith]

As for this comic, it’s not part of the original lore but I’ve talked about it in detail here if you’re interested. But the gist remains, the had a choice and saying the jedi shouldn’t have done anything more to protect Anakin is a pretty gross take. Anyway, I don’t know about you but this doesn’t read to me like ‘we tried everything we could to keep this child away from Palpatine’. 

Because I know people will twist this into ‘ShE haTeS thE jeDi’ allow me to clarify that this, all of this, is a good thing. It shows the Jedi had free will to make choices and the fact the made mistakes is what makes them such human, relatable characters. Also, it fits perfectly with the themes George set out to explore. 

The prequel trilogy is based on a back-story outline Lucas created in the mid-1970s for the original three “Star Wars” movies, so the themes percolated out of the Vietnam War and the Nixon-Watergate era, he said. Lucas began researching how democracies can turn into dictatorships with full consent of the electorate. In ancient Rome, “why did the senate after killing Caesar turn around and give the government to his nephew?” Lucas said. “Why did France after they got rid of the king and that whole system turn around and give it to Napoleon? It’s the same thing with Germany and Hitler. "You sort of see these recurring themes where a democracy turns itself into a dictatorship, and it always seems to happen kind of in the same way, with the same kinds of issues, and threats from the outside, needing more control. A democratic body, a senate, not being able to function properly because everybody’s squabbling, there’s corruption.”

The story being told in ‘Star Wars’ is a classic one. Every few hundred years, the story is retold because we have a tendency to do the same things over and over again. Power corrupts, and when you’re in charge, you start doing things that you think are right, but they’re actually not.” George Lucas

“All of these things that are wrapped up in Ahsoka’s story, which ultimately make her realize what the audience realizes. “I love the Jedi Order. They’re very important to me, I’ve always respected them. But there’s something wrong here, and I need to walk away from it to assess it.” It all feeds into Revenge of the Sith when the chancellor says, “The Jedi have just made an attempt on my life.” When you see these four episodes, I think you have a better understanding of how he gets away with all of that, because you see how compromised the Jedi Council is.” Dave Filoni

Because on a certain level, you have to accept that the Jedi lose the Clone War. So there is something that they’re doing that’s wrong.” Dave Filoni 

Holding the jedi accountable for their actions is not about hating them, is about recognizing the story George was trying to tell with these human characters and their very, very human flaws. Saying they should’ve done more to help Anakin, the slaves or the clones is not the same as saying they are as evil as Palpatine or simply bad people. Heroes makes mistakes, and the Jedi mistakes don’t make their actions less heroic or their deaths less tragic. The same way that Anakin’s crimes as Vader doesn’t erase the good he did as Anakin. if we can admit Anakin killed a lot of innocents *AND* that he was a great master to Ahsoka, I really can’t understand why some fans have such hard time accepting the same is true for all the characters. We all make shitty choices sometimes but that doesn’t necessarily makes shitty people. that truth, that very human truth is at the core of this issue.  Same people can accept this, others can’t.

[themuzzleofnemesis]

5–Memory of Flames; Scene 2

The Muzzle of Nemesis, pages 178-193

“What—is the meaning of this!?” I demanded of Gammon, with the burning mansion in my sights. “Didn’t I ask you to wait until I arrived?”

“That’s what we were planning, but…Some of the militia men went against orders. It was hard even for me to hold them back.”

“Even so…”

--I had headed for the Dark Star Bureau after killing Tony, but it had already fallen to the militia.

Apparently they had captured Bruno. He had been brought to the militia’s main headquarters, and so was no longer at the Dark Star Bureau.

Also not at the bureau…was Gallerian. From the looks of things he had abandoned Bruno and escaped via a secret passageway.

They told me Gammon and some of the soldiers had followed after him, and so I had immediately left the building to rendezvous with them.

What I ultimately arrived at was here…Gallerian’s home—

I had asked Gammon ahead of time not to lay a hand on Gallerian.

And yet, they had already set fire to the mansion.

…According to Gammon, it was our opponent who attacked first.

“One of the soldiers suddenly caught fire. His body was consumed by blue flames.”

“Was he fired at by some fire arrow or bottle bomb?”

“…I don’t know. It didn’t look that way, at least. It was as though he’d had some spell put on him—”

…A spell, huh.

Thinking on the people Gallerian had known—my mother, and Nikolay, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary if he knew how to use magic.

Mr. Ziz, currently my mask, spoke up.

<Blue flames…In the past I have seen a sorceress who could use those>

“Who?”

<Irina Clockworker. The red cat sorceress, who lived an eternity manipulating other people. As far as I know she’s the only one who can use blue fire. I don’t know how Gallerian can do it>

“Is there…a chance that this red cat lady taught it to him?”

<She’s gone now. She died long ago>

“…”

<Perhaps Gallerian has also contracted with a demon>

“Just like…me?”

<Though even if he has—you can still kill him. As long as you use that golden bullet, there’s no way you’ll lose>

Appearing to believe I was muttering to myself, Gammon peered at my face with a doubtful expression.

“—Nemesis? You alright?”

“Huh? Yeah…I was just thinking aloud. –Gallerian is inside. You’re certain of that?”

“He can’t get outside with these flames. If we leave the mansion be, eventually—”

“…That’s not good enough.”

I couldn’t just let him die without having ever confronted him.

I slowly started to walk towards the mansion.

“Hey, Nemesis! It’s too rash to go in there! Stop!”

Gammon cried out to me from behind, but I ignored him and pushed on ahead.

--As I got closer to the mansion, I could feel the temperature around me rising.

When I reached the entrance the flames were almost touching my skin.

<…Hey hey, don’t do anything excessive, Nemesis>

The moment Mr. Ziz spoke, the fire suddenly parted around me.

“Woah…So a demon can do that too.”

<You won’t die even if you’re fried to a crisp, but it’ll still take a while for you to heal, and more importantly your clothes will burn off. You don’t want to reunite with your Papa naked and charred black, do you?>

“Thanks for your concern towards my being a lady.”

Then I stepped foot in the mansion. Unlike the outside, the fire had yet to really reach the interior of the house.

I could hear someone talking from further in.

I advanced in that direction.

.

From what I could glean from the doorway, this room was the study.

Inside a single man was sitting at a desk, talking to a doll clutched in his arms.

“—The bat’s gone now.”

“…”

“Don’t worry, Papa isn’t going anywhere.”

“…”

“I wonder what kind of place hell will be.”

“…”

Is this…

So this man was my father?

This man with such girlish interests as to talk to dolls?

…The doll he was holding looked familiar.

It was that doll Mr. Ziz had taken from the ocean. They must have handed it off to him after it was recovered by PN.

“Mr. Ziz—now that I think about it, there’s something I’ve always meant to ask you.”

<What is it?>

“Why you went to such lengths to collect that doll.”

<Because that is…another “Vessel of Deadly Sin”, like Grim the End>

“Then there is…a demon inside it after all.”

<--Maybe>

Then did that mean that the “Will of the Forest” I had spoken to—was the voice of a demon?

I emptied out the cylinder of my revolver.

And in place of the regular bullets, I loaded in the golden one from my ammo case.

<Oh, you’re finally using it! That’s good. If he has a Vessel of Deadly Sin then it’s most likely that Gallerian is himself a contractor>

While listening to Mr. Ziz speak, I entered the room—gun at the ready.

“Dark Star Bureau Director Gallerian Marlon.”

When I spoke to him he finally noticed me.

“And you are…Ah yes, you’re finally here. The one who will kill me.”

Gallerian stood from his chair, boldly smiling.

While still clutching the doll.

“You’re alone. What happened to the others? Did they not come inside?”

“…I’m perfectly able to kill you on my own.”

I aimed the gun at his forehead.

Despite that, his faint smile didn’t waver.

“That’s a good gun. It smells a bit like gunpowder smoke—and blood.”

“I’ve recently used it to kill someone. Tony Ausdin…Your friend.”

“I see. So you’re the one who killed Tony. And now you’re going to put me down with that gun—”

“It’s the gun you sent to me—‘Master’.”

When I said that name to him, finally Gallerian’s expression wavered.

“…That you know that form of address—Heheh, so that’s it. You’re—‘Number 8’.”

“Yes, exactly. Nice to meet you—Though we’ll soon be parting forever.”

“I don’t understand. You were my ally, so why are you threatening me now?”

“Because you…are evil. You’ve ruined so many people just to fill your own pockets. This gun that will soon shoot you is the face of everyone’s anger—Come, repent!”

The Dark Star Bureau—the organization that managed the USE’s judicial system.

Gallerian who was the director at its top had used his position to commit evil deeds, time and time again.

His goal was to accumulate money. As long as he received a bribe he would reduce the sentencing of any sort of villain, and conversely would charge those who went against his will with false crimes to bring them down.

That wasn’t all. He would also secretly erase those who might get in his way using assassins like I had once been.

And I guess he plays with dolls at home…

I couldn’t find with a single redeeming quality.

He didn’t deserve to live.

Even if—he was my father.

“…I have one thing I want to ask you. Why did you have me made into an assassin?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Don’t try to bullshit me. I know that you run PN’s shadow organization—Pere Noel. The man Bruno always called ‘Master’…That is you, isn’t it?”

“You are correct on that. I am ‘Master’. I don’t mean to try to deceive you on that point now. But—the last member that I hired personally was ‘Number 7’, Eater.”

“…Huh?”

“To tell the truth, the only things I know about you are your codename of ‘Number 8’ and that you’re an assassin. Until just now, I mean. You were inducted as a member through Bruno’s discretion alone. He has always worked very well on my behalf, you see. I had no reason to object.  I was just grateful to him that he had obtained another asset for me.”

Gallerian hadn’t known anything?

Not even that I…was his daughter?

--So what if he didn’t. That didn’t change the fact that this man was a villain.

I didn’t come here out of a personal grudge. I was here as a mouthpiece for the world’s righteous fury.

I moved yet closer to Gallerian.

“…Select either path. Whether your brow will be shot through, or burned up in this hellfire.”

“Let me give you some advice as a judge. Don’t leave your choice of verdict up to the defendant. If you want to kill me, then you select the method yourself.”

If he had wailed and begged for his life I would have still shot him without hesitation.

But as I was growing irate at his arrogant behavior, at the same time I was beginning to have some unwelcome doubts.

Gallerian showed no sign of reflection. Even if he fell down to hell, he likely wouldn’t regret any of what he had done.

--Was I really satisfied with that?

Maybe I had wanted him to apologize to me.

For throwing away his own daughter. For making her unhappy.

But…Gallerian hadn’t known that “Number 8” was his daughter.

On the contrary, there was a possibility that he hadn’t even been told that my mother—Kayo Sudou, had given birth to a child at all.

I thought about asking him. About whether or not he knew about me…About the daughter named Nemesis.

…What would happen if I learned the answer?

We weren’t eating at some refined restaurant right now. This was a warzone, and I was pointing a gun at him.

Even if I went as his daughter in this situation—it wouldn’t gain either of us anything.

If he didn’t know, that was fine with me.

I would have Gallerian die without knowing of Nemesis.

I pulled back the firing hammer of my gun.

All I had left to do was pull the trigger.

…

But no matter how I tried I couldn’t carry out that last act.

<My my, are you hesitating at the last moment, Nemesis?> Mr. Ziz said mockingly, but I ignored him.

Yet even so he continued to speak to me.

<So then…How about this? You give him a chance for “atonement”>

Atonement?

<If he sincerely regrets his sins, then save his life>

He couldn’t seriously be suggesting that at this stage—

<Naturally, that comes with the condition that you do so right here. As long as you have my power, you will be able to slip through the flames with him. After that you should hand him over to Gammon. Even after everything’s said and done, the Tasan Party is a proper political organization. If Gallerian surrenders himself they aren’t likely to kill him then and there—the fact that they captured Bruno alive is proof enough of that>

“…”

<Whatever the case, Gallerian will be ruined…But if you want him to feel any remorse for his deeds, this option would probably be better than killing him>

In a sense, that suggestion was very appropriate for a demon to give.

It wasn’t based off of any benevolence, but rather a simple desire to see Gallerian suffer more.

But—perhaps it would be good to give him a chance, in order to make my decision.

“Gallerian—if you have any thoughts of repentance…Relinquish your fortune.”

“Oh?”

It wouldn’t be enough for him to just turn himself in. Even if the Tasan Party pardoned him, the world would most certainly still wish for his death.

In order to weaken the pressure of society against him even a little bit he would need to show some self-reflection with a tangible act.

“You stole a great deal of money and goods from people…If you promise to give it back, then I will spare your life at least.”

Gammon seemed to also want back the sword that had been stolen from him. Maybe if he learned it was in this mansion he would even move to stop it from burning down.

Gallerian had run away too readily from the Dark Star Bureau. His fortune probably wasn’t there.

Then the only other place I could think of—was his home.

“You would…spare my life?”

“Yes, Gallerian. You must have something you’ve still yet to do. If you live then maybe you’ll be able to obtain the chance to achieve it. If you die then that’s it for you!”

I tried to persuade Gallerian now in much the same way as Mr. Ziz and Gammon had done for me.

In response to their arguments, I had chosen to live.

Even Gallerian would surely—

“…My fortune—”

Yes, as long as you let it go, I will save you.

“—I won’t ever hand it over to the likes of you!” he…replied without a trace of doubt on his face.

“Everything…All of it, it’s mine! Why would I need to give anyone what I worked so hard to obtain? You lot…don’t even know why I gathered all of it in the first place!”

“…”

“And let me say up front, my fortunate isn’t even in this mansion! My precious money and items, they’re all hidden somewhere else! Somewhere you’ll never find! And if living means giving it to others, then let it sleep there for all eternity!”

“…You’re trash that can’t be helped.”

I had known it well. This man had no notion of “atonement”.

Even if he were to survive and go to prison, he would go the rest of his days without renouncing his acts.

So it’s as I thought—I had to end him here, by my own hands.

I thrust the muzzle of my gun at Gallerian’s forehead.

“Let mine and the people’s hatred wash over your body…and then sleep.”

“Oh? So, it seems you’ve chosen to kill me with the gun. …If you’re going to do it, then hurry up. You’re scaring my daughter.”

“—Your daughter?”

“Can you not see her? She’s right here.”

He looked at the doll that he was carrying.

“It’s alright, don’t be afraid.”

He patted the doll’s head.

“This young lady here only has business with your Papa. You have nothing to worry about.”

Gallerian spoke to the doll with kind eyes that he had most certainly never directed at me.

.

Could he honestly think this doll was his daughter--?

Did he think it was me?

Then…he really did know about me.

He'd thought I died.

And then went insa--

.

"--Don't worry, it'll be over soon…Michelle."

.

…

…Heh.

……Ha ha ha.

That's right.

Of course not.

Gallerian had had a daughter with his proper wife.

Her name was Michelle.

She--had been aboard the ship that I sank.

She was already gone.

.

…And yet.

You don't look at me.

Just at the doll.

You just keep looking at that dead girl.

Even though--I'm still alive, right here.

.

Hey, Father.

Look at me.

.

Look at me too.

.

--With this it's truly over.

Let's make everything end.

At some point Gallerian had quit speaking to the doll, and was gazing at my face in utter stillness.

In his eyes there was neither the affection he had directed at the doll.

Nor any fear of death.

Nor anger at me.

There was none of that.

Merely—the empty eyes of a madman.

.

"--Farewell."

You sinful “evil”.

My father.

.

I pulled the heavy trigger.

And then—the golden bullet was fired from the muzzle.

.

Ordinarily this would kill instantly, with no time for words.

But as he collapsed backwards--

He murmured in the end:

"I'm fine with this…Thank you--Nemesis."

.

………Huh?

<<prev------directory------next>>

[flateshippingrates]

I Can (Show You How)

Ship: Solangelo (this is explicit, mostly for swearing but there are sexual themes)

Words: 2368

Ao3

Apollo was fond of Camp Halfblood these days, spending a lot of time there to see his children as well as his favorite son of Hades. Nico had grown into himself, filling out nicely, and was somewhat of a permanent resident (permanent in the sense he went back for a week every month) with the exception of when he was in the Underworld or at his new home in New Rome. This constant traveling helped with his fatigue or feelings of becoming stagnant, which had proved to make his irritability rise at alarming levels.

Nico was 20 now, mature and intelligent beyond his years--partially from the trauma, but also from Hades providing him with the best education a demigod could ever ask for. There were times he could even best a child of Athena with his wit or rather his ability to argue a point. He took after his father, Hades, by studying law, working in the judicial branches of camps, and being an excellent delegator. Language had become his greatest weapon.

Nico was no longer the shy, awkward child he had been after the war; his words were always intentional and demanded immediate attention. There was still fear towards him but mostly it was respect for his lineage, talent, and ability to empathize. Apollo, of course, could have told you this would be his future but he tried not to pry after receiving a scathing lecture from his own son, Will. Something along the lines of, “it’s none of your business what is going to happen, if we wanted to know we would ask, and no, we don’t want to hear any other prophecies either!” So the God of light zipped his lips, locked them tight, and threw away the key to any major visions he had involving his favorite demigods.

The relationship between Will and Nico was sturdy and, even after all this time, they still seemed madly in love and devoted to each other. Again, not a surprise to Apollo, but what was shocking to the God was how frustrated his son looked when leaving the other’s cabin some days. Will’s face would be flushed with a range of emotions yet he would quickly rush by anyone like a man on a mission; this was especially odd because the son of Hades and the blond were living together at this point, so where could he be going? It seemed urgent to say the least.

Apollo knew better than to follow Will though because when he tried to once before his son had been a bit of a--what was that mortal word again? Oh, yes! Will had been a bit of a bitch. In fact, when he pressed with fatherly curiosity, the blond happily let his dad know he was suffering from “insufferable cunt syndrome.” It was apparently known to be deadly if the afflicted did not learn to “read the room” or use “common sense.”

So, with a lesson learned, Apollo went to the second best option which was Nico--a man of reason--to figure out what was wrong with their relationship. It only took three months after the last incident for Will to come out of the Hades cabin looking flustered. The radiant God moved on swift feet, darkness around him slipping away, and proudly welcomed himself into the Hades cabin with an award winning smile. “Nico, Nico, Nico,” he sung with laughter in his eyes and some calming magic to his words, “Allow me to help Will by helping you. I have noticed he often leaves your cabin with a red face, like a psycho. I am sure this is nothing we can’t work through.”

The ghost king looked up, furiously blushing as he pulled all the blankets he could around himself and looked like an awkward teenager more than the adult he had become. Apollo moved over without permission to rip away the blanket before there could be protest or denial. He knew that look of sexual frustration when he saw it--he himself had seen it before in the men and women from Nico’s time and immediately understood. “You’re a virgin?”

“That is none of your business!” Nico snapped, pulling the blanket back over his lap. He was not exposed but it was obvious at a glance that whatever had happened before was still riding hard in the young man’s mind.

“Oh, honey...” Apollo made himself comfortable, giving his most knowing glance as he looked at his son’s boyfriend up and down like a piece of art. He leaned in as if he could see through blanket, pointed down, and said, “Do you need help with that?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Nico snapped, leaning away as if Apollo would give him the plague--speaking of which, maybe he should be more respectful when talking to a plague God. The Italian’s face felt like it was on fire, only growing hotter and hotter as his boyfriend’s father made a jacking-off gesture. “That’s sick! I would never do that!”

“Sick?” The laurel’s God began to laugh, hair shining with joy as he leaned over to place his face in his hands to try and muffle his emotions. Of course, Nico would never masturbate from the time period he was from. It was a given that he would not have premarital sex either; maybe this was the first step in making him comfortable with that kind of intimacy though. It was not that he had to have sex today or the next day or even in the next hundred years if he didn’t want to, but it was clear that he wanted to and so did his boyfriend. “It is normal, Nico. Everyone did it in the past and does it now; people from your time were just afraid of having a good time. They were prudes! There are health benefits too--I would even bet Will is doing it right now!”

Who was the ghost king supposed to pray to for this conversation to end? He was definitely not bringing his own father into it. Apollo was right though; he knew Will did it and he was one of the healthiest people Nico knew, however, whenever he had tried to do it in the past he became afraid. What if he did get sick? Go blind or grew hair on his hands? Was it not dehumanizing to look at porn? Who would he want to look at besides Will? His leg began bouncing up and down in rapid succession at the thought of his boyfriend--he had never explained to Will why after all these years he would still not expose himself, even when he obviously wanted to be physical. The blond wasn’t the type to force it. They would always break off at the most frustrating time.

There was a hum from Apollo like a computer downloading information until he cheerily offered, “I can show you how!”

“It’s not that I don’t know how, I just don’t want to,” Nico snapped, pushing his knees together uncomfortably. “And this isn’t the conversation I want to be having with my boyfriend’s dad.”

“If you know how then why don’t you show me?” Apollo said with a wide, stupid grin. “It’s not weird--in fact, think of this as a doctor-patient type deal. Would it help if I took the form of Will?” And without being asked, the God who rules the day took the form of his son as if that were a perfectly normal and healthy response to the situation. He did not wait for instructions on what to do or take into consideration that the son of Hades meant no to every part of this interaction thus far.

The archer definitely thought he was being helpful when he started to undress himself, starting with his shirt before moving on to his belt. He missed the days when mortals did not wear so many layers. He, also, did not notice the heat rising in Nico’s face and below his waist at the sight of Apollo’s--Will’s?--body being exposed before him. Still the son of Hades tried to lean away from the situation, keeping his eyes away from his boyfriend’s father’s assumed form and on the ceiling praying to--who should he pray to? Maybe Allah would help! He would take anyone at this point!

“Neeks, look at me,” Apollo whispered, turning Nico’s head in his hands. “Do as I do.”

“No… I want Will.” Regardless of what he said, he peered down into those blue eyes. They were cold yet sweet like ice cream unlike Will’s open skies and pink lips parted to breathe in the other. He smelt like pomegranates and Nico knew that if he took even one bite he would be trapped forever. He leaned back, melting into his pillows as Apollo leaned over him--no, even his curls fell different than Will’s. It was like looking at his boyfriend but slightly to the left. “I don’t even let him do this, why would I let you?” Nico breathed out as he felt Apollo’s hand on his torso. His brown eyes flickered down to see him reaching into his own boxers to expose himself.

“I have helped many mortals in your situation,” Apollo reasoned, feeling Nico’s cold hand push against his chest. “If you learn from me, you can impress the one you love most.” “This isn’t right,” The son of Hades protested regardless of his apparent interest. He pushed harder on Apollo’s chest and repeated, “I want Will. The real Will.”

Apollo leaned over him in one last attempt, laughter back in his voice as he offered, “Would it help if I said yeehaw?”

“Would it help if I paralyzed you?” Will’s voice sounded from just above the two, cold and full of venom. His father, not having that common sense recommended to him months before, did not move off Nico right away but instead turned his head to see his son.

“You’re looking a lot better.” Apollo sang with a wide smile and Nico, in that moment, would swear there was a tree stump in Louisiana swamp with a higher IQ. “I was just teaching Nico here how to masturbate.”

“Get off him,” Will growled, digging his nails into his father’s shoulder. There was nothing more he could do than scold and be angry, because this was, afterall, a God and if he brought any harm (not that he was a skilled fighter anyway) there would be Olympus to answer to.

This time the archer seemed to understand, moving off Nico with a hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I hear you. I was just trying to help you; I was tired of seeing you leave so frustrated and wanted to know why.”

“I don’t care why you just did whatever it was that you thought you were doing,” Will snapped, temper at its peak when his father patted his back as if he just played a lighthearted prank. It was as if the lights were on but no one was home.“You cannot be alone with him anymore. I cannot trust you.”

“Oh, Willow, please,” Apollo laughed, “There are things you will never understand, for example, the stigma Nico grew up with. I was there for it. I saw what it did. I could really help him. Besides, I took your form.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” Will grabbed the God’s arm with a vice-like grip, all too eager to drag him out of the cabin and never speak to him again.

Still, the God must have liked the taste of his own foot because as he was being shoved out the door, he gave one last hurrah. “Hey, I could have taken the form of Percy Jackson!”

The door slammed so hard, Nico felt like the whole cabin shook around him and could feel the son of the light God radiate shadows. He was practically shaking and there was nothing he could say or do to make it better. This was a topic better left to silence, so that’s what he did. Nico sat on the bed, covering himself with the blanket and waited as Will angrily paced around the room.

“The nerve of him to assume I wouldn’t understand,” Will began, throwing his arms up, absolutely irate. “He thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow! And what did he think? If he took the form of me it would make this okay? That makes about as much sense as tits on a bull! I bet he has been waiting to make a move like this on you forever. I don’t want you to be alone with him. If he tries to come around you, you come get me!” Then there was a moment of silence like his thoughts were still catching up with him until at last, Will practically yelling now, said, “Gods, but what if he takes my form?! I cannot believe that no good, two faced son of a gun! Don’t piss down my leg and tell me it’s raining! I cannot begin with--and to say--Percy?! I swear my father has one oar out of water based on the shit that comes out his mouth and--and--Hera, almighty! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, Will…” Nico reassured as he moved in the bed to be closer to the wall. “Come join me in bed. I just want to be with you in your arms. He could never fool me into thinking it was you… He thinks you say ‘yeehaw’ when you’re turned on.”

The sun’s child shook with anger, fists balled at his side, but when he looked into those pleading eyes all the tension dissipated. This did not mean he did not sulk all the way over the bed or toss his shoes with irritation before crawling in. It, also, did not mean that he wasn’t holding Nico extra tight like he would be stolen away from him in the night. It just meant that is could wait until morning. As exhaustion started to settle over them, Will under his breath grumbled one last time, “Percy… the nerve.”

[buttsonthebeach]

Miles to Go

@lyrium-lovesong asked me to write about her lovely universe once more, and I jumped at the chance to tackle Cullen’s POV! Thank you for this treat, friend <3

I previously wrote Saltwater, which features Freya.

Pairing: Freya Lavellan x Cullen Rutherford

Rating: General

**********

Cullen Rutherford was, allegedly, a master of self-restraint. A man who had spent his life studying it, in fact. A man who had combed through the Chantry’s litanies searching for more and more and more of it. Seeking out where all the lines were and then judiciously avoiding or guarding those lines.

Some of that had fallen away, after Meredith. Kirkwall. But in large part he still prided himself on it. He did not take unnecessary risks in his chess games with Dorian. He did not lose his temper when Leliana and Josephine argued for courses of action that he disagreed with, or when they teased him. Most importantly, he had not once taken lyrium again.

(He’d opened the pouch yes, yes, looked at it, thought about it, dreamed about it, thrown the whole thing against walls, yes, but all of those were further signs of his self-restraint.)

And he, of course, did not spend time worrying about Freya Lavellan while she was away.

That, besides the lyrium, was his greatest self-restraint. At least in Cullen’s own eyes - he had not told anyone else he felt that way. Most people would laugh at the thought. The great Commander, struggling to restrain himself from giving in to worry. So he wore that secret close to his skin, beneath every layer of armor. Swallowed it down like a sick man’s bile.

He feared for Freya almost as much as he loved her.

She was in the Emerald Graves hunting Red Templars, looking for evidence Samson had left behind, when he articulated those words clearly to himself. It was two weeks after she’d left, and he was lying in his bed, looking up at the blue-black night above him through the hole in his ceiling, at the pinpricks of the stars. After so long inside stone walls and towers it was good to be reminded they were there. This night, the comfort of that thought was interlaced with thoughts of Freya - which stars she looked upon, where she was sleeping, how her day had gone, how many times she had risked herself in battle against Corypheus’s forces, against monstrous creatures. 

The thoughts were as entwined as he wished they were at that moment. The stars are beautiful tonight, and I miss Freya. The breeze feels good, and I wish Freya was here. He longed for her so strongly that the longing took physical shape and crawled into bed beside him, half convincing him that she was there, her leg thrown across his, her head pillowed on his chest, the scent of her skin and her red hair tickling his nose. At one point, half-asleep, he reached out to touch her, to stroke her back and kiss her forehead, only to realize with a start she was not there. He knew soldiers who had lost limbs, and said it felt like this - like there were times the limb seemed to come back to them, so real they could feel it once again, only to vanish like smoke.

I fear for Freya almost as much as I love her.

There was a mathematical logic in that thought, he supposed, rolling over, trying to chase the feeling of loss away. Perhaps the Maker had always weighed out fear and love in equal parts, like a merchant weighing gold and goods (you must pay this much fear for this much love) and Cullen had never known it until now. What was not logical was how much he’d been struggling to sleep since Freya left. He’d slept alone most of his life, and there were still many nights when she slept in her own chambers even when she was at Skyhold. He should be more used to this than he was to having her here, her cold feet seeking the warmth of his body, her wriggling and stirring and even occasional snoring startling him awake.

And yet, there he was, unable to sleep. Unable to think of anything but her.

Some self-restraint.

So he sat up, slung himself out of bed, and went to put on his armor. Maybe the ritual of that would be enough to bring him back to himself, his discipline. Instead he found himself thinking of her again, of the time she asked to be taught how to help him with his armor, how he’d told her it wasn’t necessary, he knew how to remove it and don it himself. How she’d rolled her eyes at him.

“I know that,” she’d said. “But I want to learn. Just because you can do something yourself doesn’t mean you should always have to.”

And just like that, there were phantom hands alongside his own - smaller and more gentle, hands used for picking herbs and healing the sick, and Cullen wanted to drop his hands to his sides and let them take over. To surrender to the feeling of being loved and cared for.

But no one was there. Not really.

Maybe she isn’t coming back this time.

He strode out of his chambers, willing the thought to stay behind.

As he made his way down the rampart that connected his chambers to the rotunda, he saw a soldier approaching at a quick step, and instinctively straightened his posture, tensed his jaw. He needed to be Commander Rutherford, now. Not some lovesick fool.

“Commander Rutherford. Did someone already come to wake you?”

“No. I had an idea to improve our defenses here, and I wanted to walk and make notes before the idea left me.”

Lying to people under his command never failed to leave a bad taste in his mouth, but it was still better than the truth. Your Commander misses his lover so much that he can’t sleep.

“Oh. That works out I suppose. I was sent to wake you and tell you that you are wanted at the War Table. The Inquisitor has sent urgent correspondence back from the Emerald Graves. She thinks she may know where Samson and his lot can be found - where we might get to the secret of Samson’s armor.”

Cullen’s heart leapt twice - once at the thought that they might have his former colleague pinned down, and then once, even higher, at the confirmation that this news from Freya was recent. That there would be a letter from her waiting at the War Table, written in her hand, that perhaps other letters had arrived, more personal ones.

You have truly gone soft, Rutherford. Focus.

He followed the soldier through the rotunda, across the cavernous great hall, past its empty throne, and down the long crumbling corridor that led to the War Table. Leliana and Josephine were both already present, Josephine looking particularly tired, while Leliana looked as alert as ever. He wondered what sort of impression he presented.

“Well,” Cullen said. “Let’s see this letter.”

“Letters, actually,” Leliana said, handing him a packet of parchment, and once again, Cullen’s heartbeat picked up its tempo, just a little, just enough for him to notice, at the thought that they all might be from Freya. 

Instead they were all in Samson’s hand, dark and angular. He pressed hard on his pencils and quills whenever he wrote, leaving splotches and splatters of ink, or smearing the charcoal. Cullen experienced a moment of childish frustration, wanting to push them aside and ask if there had been any from Freya, or if these had just arrived with no context at all. Then a wave of shame washed over him, settling by his feet, lapping at his ankles, making him feel cold even beneath the layers of armor. He had dedicated himself to the Inquisition and its cause before he ever dedicated himself to Freya. How dare he let his personal feelings interfere with the task at hand for even an instant? Especially when being a good commander was the best thing he could do to ensure Freya’s safety?

“She got these from intercepting caravans of red lyrium in the Graves, yes?” Cullen asked as he skimmed them for more details, a picture already forming in his mind. None of the letters directly stated where the red lyrium came from, but they did talk about how long it was taking to get where it was going, and that gave him an idea of where to start looking on the map.

“That is correct. I am reading her letter now,” Josephine said, and Cullen’s eyes flicked towards her, seeing the parchment in her hand, seeing how the candlelight illuminated it so that he could see Freya’s handwriting clear as day. Cullen would let her finish reading it. It would be his turn soon enough, and then he could trace the letters, and it would be as close as he had come to touching her in weeks.

“Does she say where they were found?”

Cullen continued his questioning and studying, half of his attention on the smugglers’ letters, half on the answers Josephine and Leliana gave. He was forming a picture in his mind, imaging both the paths of the Red Templars and Freya in the Emerald Graves. She’d been there once before already and told him how brilliantly green they were, and how haunted they seemed. Life and death entwined. What stories would she bring back to him this time?

“Emprise du Lion,” he said finally. “I can study the maps and routes more thoroughly tomorrow, but I am fairly certain. They are quarrying the red lyrium in Emprise du Lion and then shipping it throughout Thedas. The Emerald Graves has been a major thoroughfare, but I am more than willing to believe that Freya has made a mess of that plan in the course of acquiring these letters.”

Pride tinged the words - because he feared for her, yes, but he was also fiercely proud of her. This brave and capable woman who chose to come back to him when she was done saving the world.

(Even if it seemed like it would never really be done, like it would only grow more dangerous each day.)

“As am I,” Leliana said. “I would respond telling her to rendezvous with us here in Skyhold before heading out to the Emprise, but she says here that there is a matter Solas wishes to attend to in the Exalted Plains. Depending on how long that takes, she may not be able to return to us in Skyhold before the passage is blocked by snow and ice.”

“That is not the worst turn of events,” Josephine mused. “We might wish to redirect Inquisition forces to aid her before she gets there. Your spies for intelligence, Cullen’s soldiers for support against the Red Templars, my nobles for supplies and shelter.”

“Agreed,” Leliana said. “We will continue to coordinate that with her as she heads to the Plains and back. Cullen?”

It was a good plan. 

It was a good plan that would keep Freya away from Skyhold for several more weeks, and send her into the depths of the Red Templars’ organization.

He felt his fingers tightening on the letters, and forced himself to relax.

“Yes. Let us begin drawing up the letters and other orders.”

They worked long enough on the plans that by the time they emerged, the sky was beginning to lighten - deep navy turning to a softer shade of blue, gold and pink tingeing the easternmost mountaintops. Cullen knew that soon Freya would wake and see the same dawn.

I hope you get the chance to enjoy it, love. I can’t wait until the next time we watch one together. I miss you. I love you.

“Cullen,” Josephine called. She held out a small square of parchment as she approached. “This was tucked inside the envelope that everything else came in. I only just noticed it. I believe it is for you.”

Cullen waited until Josephine had walked a distance away, and then he unfolded it, and saw Freya’s messiest handwriting, and six short words.

I miss you. I love you.

An echo of his own unspoken words just moments before - a miracle as real as anything in the Chant of Light. A reminder that his life was not all self-restraint and fear. That love could outweigh all of it, and yet also lighten every burden he carried. It was not a guarantee against all the darkness in the world, against all the things that could go wrong - but it was a miracle nonetheless.

Cullen smiled and walked on, ready to face the dawn.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

RIAA's war on youtube-dl

Late last week, the RIAA sent a legal threat to Github, claiming that the popular (and absolutely lawful) tool youtube-dl (which allows users to download Youtube videos for offline viewing, editing and archiving) violated Section 1201 of the #DMCA.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/24/1201-v-dl-youtube/#1201

Even by the heavy-handed standards of the RIAA - a monopolist's "association" dominated by only three members - this was extraordinary. The law in question derives much of its efficacy from its vagueness, which chills software developers from risking its severe penalties.

DMCA1201 is an "anti-circumvention" law, banning the distribution of tools that bypass "effective means of access control" for copyrighted work, with a $500k fine and a 5-year sentence for a first violation.

Thus 1201 gives companies the power to felonize any action, even lawful ones. All you need to do is design a product so that using it in ways that you dislike requires bypassing "access controls" and presto! Your preferences are laws - "Felony contempt of business-model."

That's how Apple makes it a crime for me to write an app and sell it to you for your Iphone without giving Apple 30% of the purchase price. It's how Medtronic makes it a crime to fix its ventilators. It's how HP makes it a crime to refill a printer cartridge.

For all its centrality to modern commerce, 1201 has seen precious few cases litigated to judgment, so its contours remain fuzzy. That works to companies' advantage. They know that risk-averse competitors, security researchers and investors steer wide to avoid violating it.

Who wants to risk a wrong guess about the lawfulness of your activities that can land you in prison for 5 years?

There have been moments when the RIAA's rage brought us close to litigating key features of 1201, but cooler heads prevailed and they surrendered rather than putting their theories in front of a judge and risking a narrowing of 1201.

https://www.eff.org/cases/felten-et-al-v-riaa-et-al7/

In threatening youtube-dl, RIAA is risking a lot. Like what is an "effective means of access control"? There's an argument that goes, "If I can bypass it, how was it 'effective'?" That was tried in the 2600 case over Decss, and it didn't fly.

https://www.eff.org/effector/15/14

But while the courts were reluctant to decide how stout an access control must be to acquire statutory protection, they were unsympathetic to the arguments of the defunct file-sharing tool Aimster, which used Pig Latin to "encrypt" its filenames.

They argued that RIAA enforcers violated 1201 by "decrypting" them. This was quickly dismissed by courts, putting a floor under what "effective" means: "stronger than Pig Latin, weaker than Decss."

https://news.slashdot.org/story/01/03/06/1448236/aimster-uses-pig-latin-encryption-to-defeat-riaa

The "access controls" that youtube-dl bypasses are (AFAIK) somewhere within those two bounds - basically a lot of obfuscation, but not encryption. If this goes to trial, "obfuscation" methods could end up being fair game for circumvention.

The other thorny question RIAA is raising here is standing - they're arguing that since some of their members' works are restricted by Google's access controls, then they have the right to sue over circumvention, even if Google doesn't mind.

If this question is ruled on, then it could go badly for RIAA irrespective of the ruling. If the court rules that only the creator of an access-control can invoke DMCA 1201, the list of potential aggressors under 1201 dwindles to a mere handful.

If the court rules that the RIAA DOES have standing, then that means that every single rightsholder whose works are implicated by an access control would ALSO have standing.

If the day comes that the RIAA's members want to break with a Big Tech music company (like Youtube, say!), and authorize their customers to jailbreak their music and take it with them to a rival service, any other rightsholder with a file on Youtube could stop this.

Indeed, under this theory, there may be no way of EVER authorizing a circumvention - you'd need cooperation from every implicated rightsholder and the access-control's creator. The RIAA's members strongly value their own self-determination and this could really hurt them.

Will this go to trial? It's hard to say. Certainly, the RIAA has firehosed around so many complaints that they've created a cohort of potential defendants who might be willing to take their chances in court.

As Torrentfreak reports, before hitting Github, RIAA sent out notices in Germany - to Uberspace (the youtube-dl project's host) and to former project maintainer Philipp Hagemeister (no longer involved).

https://torrentfreak.com/riaas-youtube-dl-takedown-ticks-of-developers-and-githubs-ceo-201027/

And Natfriedman, Github's CEO, joined the developers' IRC channel to offer support (he told Torrentfreak, "We want to help the youtube-dl maintainers defeat the DMCA claim so that we can restore the repo").

https://twitter.com/t3rr4dice/status/1320660235363749888

The notice seems to have radicalized the company: "We are thinking about how GitHub can proactively help developers in more DMCA cases going forward, and take a more active role in reforming/repealing 1201."

Interestingly, Github's owner, Microsoft, is an RIAA member.

In the meantime, copies of the youtube-dl sourcecode have proliferated as developers and activists have mirrored it in protest of the RIAA's heavy hand.

DMCA 1201 is unconstitutional: that's an argument EFF is making in its lawsuit on behalf of Matthew Green and Andrew "bunnie" Huang, which seeks to overturn the law.

https://www.eff.org/cases/green-v-us-department-justice

A legal reckoning over 1201 is long overdue, thanks to the tactical cowardice of RIAA, which has run from the victims that stood up to its bullying rather than risking a day in court and the law's judicial overturn. EFF's suit has been slow going, plagued by long delays.

It's never good to be on the receiving end of legal threats from wealthy, powerful, connected industry groups. But here might be a case that finally drives a stake through 1201's heart. It's not a silver lining, but at least it's something.