#my two goals the year are start entering my photos into state fairs again & go see the world fair in japan with a friend

[blazingopus]

Green Haze - Golden Wind

This story ended up much darker than I had intended. It was very difficult for me to write in some places. Drawing from detective noir can do that sometimes. For the squeamish of you (and this is in no way a judgement), I will list the parts where there is body horror in bold. Please enjoy.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3LZDJ6gWi5HP2P2YCMTcn1?si=A4Kncm8JR_mkOdszS7TCww

You're a private investigator taking photos of someone who spots what you are doing. What happens next?

Napoli, and all of Italia for that matter, is ruled by The Famiglia. A complex web of businessmen, smugglers, politicians, assassins, drug peddlers, hustlers, bookkeepers, and every other role a mafioso could fill. Money acquired legally and illegally is funneled throughout the web, funding the various operations and front businesses. And pulling all the strings from the shadows is the illusive Boss, hiding his identity to preserve his life and keep control over all of Italia. He hears all, sees all. Little happens in the Famiglia without the Boss knowing at least in passing. This is the Empire called Passione. At least, this is what I hear when dealing in the underground.

I am a private investigator. I am paid large sums of money to investigate things that the police cannot, or will not, touch with their pristine hands. I say this, knowing that most of the police are in bed with corrupt politicians. The same politicians working closely, or at the very least taking bribes from Passione.

I only know this because I was in the police force for a few years myself. I saw first hand what went on behind closed doors. They say they want law and order. They say that they want to protect people. They say that they serve the citizens of Napoli. Lies. Nothing but lies. Most who join the force are corrupted by the system and the people. The few who do not leave of their own accord or are forced out.

Morality is a funny thing. Philosophers, authors, religious figures, and other thinkers have debated and formed their own frameworks to understand it. All of which are very different. But there are some basic ideas that most people tend to agree on. Killing innocents is bad. Stealing is bad. Lying is bad. Usually. There are more shades of grey to it all than an overcast sky. And many are willing to throw it all away for their own gain.

I walked away from all of it. The corruption, the lies, the posturing, the cutthroat environment. I was done with it all. I took the skills I had learned as a police officer and went into business for myself. You see, when the world is stripped of morals and decency, there are few things of value: Money. Information. Sex. Sometimes drugs, depending on how you felt that day. And the occasional organ. Of these, information became my currency. I procure information you want, for a price. Unlike the information brokers of Passione, I work on the street, I take the photos, and I steal the evidence. I can provide some of the most incriminating, career ending, reputation ruining information that the brokers would spend millions of Liras for. That is, if I were to sell it to them.

I don't work for Passione, and I have only worked with a few members. Poor souls. They had such ambitions of righting the wrongs, undoing the injustices from the inside. All of them ended up dead soon after their last visit to my office. Seems that the Boss doesn't much like members of his Famiglia trying to undo everything he had worked for.

It was a few days ago when another poor soul asked for my services. An up and coming politician with bright eyes and a noble heart. After being elected to a local office, he had found the government was as corrupted as any other. He was on a valiant quest to rid all he could of the "evil" out of Napoli. I told him that most do not survive that silly quest of his. He replied saying that, 'He would be one of the few who did, and bring some decency to his fair city.' He owed it to the people who elected him into office. I could tell he was a stubborn man, hellbent on his sacred duty. All I could do was shake my head and accept the upfront fee from him. How naïve he was.

Among some other things, he wanted me to look into a young man named Bruno Buccellati. The valiant knight had concerns about where Buccellati stood, since he liked to keep a low profile. While he was a mafioso, he was in good standing with the people of his territory and was a trusted right hand man to Polpo, the capo of Napoli. He suspected that Buccellati was either a noble individual like himself, or was playing nice to everyone to get an advantage. I told him it didn't matter either way.

I spent a couple of days getting a feel for his regular haunts. The people who lived and worked in his territory had a favorable view of him, but were somewhat protective of him. I was able to get more information out of them when I told them that he had helped me not too long ago, and was wanting to repay his kindness. Many said he would not accept any gifts or rewards, but wished me good luck. I didn't need it, but it was appreciated.

Buccellati moved around a lot, completing assignments from Polpo and maintaining the businesses under his jurisdiction. He did however, favor a particular restaurant. He tended to have small meetings there once a week or so with the team he was building. Such things were not uncommon in Passione. Many higher ranking mafiosi had a team of trusted few to help with whatever they were up to. It was a crucial part of the structure of the Familgia, and most teams were extremely independent. It was important that teams did not know of each other, so that separate operations could be conducted without interference or information leaking. At least, that was the intention. For some, it didn't matter how independent or how secretive a team was. Once they gained a certain level of status and notoriety, no matter how careful and secretive they were, word got around about their exploits. The only exception, of course, was the Boss.

The strange thing was, of the two people Buccellati had on his team, both were under the age of 18 and both had criminal records. Pannacota Fugo had allegedly murdered a teacher of his, and had a genius level IQ. If Buccellati played his cards right, he might make Fugo a crucial member of Passione. Narancia Ghirga was a different story. He had ran with gangs most of his younger years and only committed petty theft. From all I could gather, I could not understand why Buccellati had put him on his team. He had no outstanding qualities that I could find. The boy hadn't had an education in years, and had no particular skills.

There wasn't much else I could do now. I had been watching the restaurant for the past few days. I did a little snooping around the restaurant itself, and I found that Buccellati had made a reservation for tomorrow at noon. Four top. If I had to make a guess, he might be recruiting a new member or making some sort of deal. I would have to wait and see.

I made sure I look the part. The goal is to get a good look at Buccellati and his team. Take a few pictures. Start collecting some information about them. In order to accomplish this, I decided to dress a little casual chic. I was playing the role of a photographer for a travel magazine, getting some pictures of the local shops and the people in their natural state. It was important that the magazine had some candid photos along with the glamorized landscapes and reused building shots. At least, that was what I would use as an alibi.

I set up across from the restaurant at a quaint cafe with outdoor seating in the front. I had previously asked the owner if it was alright if I took a few pictures, and he let me eat free for the publicity. He didn't ask many questions. It was ten till noon, and the lunch rush was ramping up.

From what people told me, Buccellati had a few defining features. Piercing blue eyes. Dark hair cut in a severe bob. Pair of gold clips to adorn said bob. Suit with strange poke-a-dot pattern. Exposed chest with a tattoo or lace undershirt, no one could tell for sure. For someone who was so skilled at keeping a low profile, he was damn good at standing out from the crowd.

My eye caught someone entering the restaurant. Blue, hair, gold, pattern, chest thing. That must be him. I watched him talk to the host, who led him to a table right in front of a nearby window. My lucky day. At the table, I could see two other individuals, both looked to be young. These were most likely Fugo and Naranchia. They matched the descriptions I had come across earlier.

I was still watching the customers coming and going. Buccellati would not have reserved a four top if he was not expecting another person. Who that person was, I had no idea. A male walked in that made me pause for a minute. It was not his attire, which was also very distinct. Pale hair and skin deeply contrasted by his dark and broody clothing. It was the fact that it gave me a strong feeling of deja-vu. I didn't think it was a past client, or a past target. It went farther back than that, into the past I wanted to forget.

I took a sip of my water and made myself focus again. Fortunately for me, the mysterious man joined Buccellati at his table. He was lucky number four. It took about an hour and a half for them to order, eat, and discuss their business. The entire time, I was taking notes for one of the articles I was writing. At least, that is what I told the cafe owner. I was making note of particular ticks or quirks they had in their movements and speech patterns. I was also able to get a few pictures of them, but the main photos I was wanting would have to be taken as they left the restaurant.

I put my stuff in my bag when I saw they were beginning to wrap up. I left my camera hanging around my neck. I watched Buccellati pay the bill. The four of them stood up. They moved to the front of the building. I moved the camera to my face. I snapped a few photos as they came out the front door.

My heart stopped.

The last one out was the mysterious man. I finally remembered him. Abbacchio. He was one of the victims of the cruel justice system. I was coming to the end of my time in the police when I heard the news of his departure. He had made a hard decision, and it didn't pay off for him. I had worked close with him on some assignments, but I had not seen him since...

His deep purple eyes met mine through the lens. Deep. Accusing. Damn it. Why did I hesitate? I lowered the camera, keeping eye contact with him. His eyes bore into me. They were full of distrust and suspicion. Did he recognize me? Had he caught on to what I was doing?

Abbacchio finally broke eye contact with me, slowly walking away. I let our the breath I didn't know I was holding. I didn't know what his next action was going to be, but I needed to get the hell out of there. Damn it! How could I have been so reckless? So stupid? I could have just compromised everything. I put my camera in my bag and told the waiter my thanks.

I walked briskly toward the nearest train station. While it would be much more convenient to own a car, such a thing was dangerous. Cars can be tracked via licence plate, or could identify my apartment if someone should see me on assignment. That means my options for transportation are limited. Taxis would be faster, but I can blend into the crowds and loose people easier that way. If it all plays out properly.

When I reached the station, I bought a ticket and waited to board. I stood in the crowd, watching around me for anyone from Buccellati's team, or anyone else suspicious. I stepped on the train and found a seat. No one of note came on board. I spent the train ride anxious, my mind racing. Would Abbacchio do anything? Would they hunt me down? I could handle myself well enough, but the members of Passione were dangerous individuals. If they did, I probably wouldn't live through it. But this is what I signed up for when I took up this line of work. This is all my own doing.

The train came to a slow stop. I stood up and stepped onto the street. Heading straight home would be stupid. It would be better to head to the office first, where there would be people to witness anything that might happen. I walked over a block or two to the building where my office was located. I entered and unlocked the door. Inside was the same as I had left it. The heavy wooden desk sat in the back of the room with a chair to match. In front were two large chairs. I picked them out especially because they were very, very uncomfortable. I didn't want people staying longer than they had to, and having comfortable chairs just encouraged people to linger. It was important with the kinds of people I deal with.

I picked up the few documents I had sitting on my desk and stuffed them in my bag. They weren't of great importance, but I could not afford to leave any sort of evidence out. After most of my assignments, if I didn't think they would be useful I burned most of the information I had collected. I didn't want any evidence pointing to me if something got out. I usually didn't need it anyway. There were a few exceptions, though. I had a few safes in my apartment containing very valuable information that might come in handy one day. Don't know when, but you never know when you need to expose someone, or blackmail them, or call in a favor.

I straightened up the place before I left again. Speaking of calling in favors, if shit hits the fan, I might have to do that. Working in the professions I have, you get to know the right people, or the wrong people that need a favor. I didn't want to cash my chips in just yet, but I didn't know how all this would play out. I might not even have time to call in the first place. I have to be damn careful.

I locked the door and headed out onto the street, looking for a cab. My apartment was a bit away from my office. While I would have liked to be able to walk home every day, I didn't want anyone following me home that easily. I hailed a cab down and gave the driver directions.

As soon as I got home, I set the several locks on my reinforced door. Some may say I am paranoid, but that paranoia has kept me alive through some pretty bad scrapes. I quickly changed out of my clothes, throwing on a tank top and sweatpants. If they come for me tonight, I at least want to be comfortable. I then went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. It wasn't the first time I was going to miss out on a lot of sleep. I will have to keep up throughout the night.

I reached into a kitchen drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I needed something to calm my nerves. I hate smoking and would have much preferred alcohol. Alcohol makes me sleepy, and being able to aim is important if hell breaks loose. Nicotine would have to do instead. I took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling the sickening smoke. Stale, this pack was getting old. I would have to pick up a new one soon.

I went back into my bedroom, opening up the top drawer of my bedside table. I took the two pistols I kept in there and checked the clips inside. I turned off the safety and stuck one in the waistband of my pants, feeling it settle against my spine. I picked up the extra clips I kept as well, putting two in my bra and sticking the rest in my pockets.

I went to the kitchen and grabbed one of my kitchen chairs, dragging it in front of my door. I poured myself a cup of coffee. I walked over to my chair and sat in it backwards. Pistol in my right hand, coffee in my left, cigarette in my mouth. I waited throughout the night with my eyes trained on the door, waiting for anything to go wrong.

The night passed to morning, and the time passed in silence. The sun rose on a new day. I was still alive and unharmed, for now at least. I rose from my seat and quickly showered. I hit myself with the cold water to wake myself up again. I tiredly put on clothes, keeping the pistol in its spot next to my spine. I put the other in the holster I keep in my jacket. I grabbed my bag and walked out my door, undoing all the locks from the night before.

I made my way back to my office without incident. The door was still locked and intact. Everything was in place inside. I sat down behind my desk and pulled out my notes, going over what I had collected over the past few days.

Buccellati seemed decent, at least. Many people went to him for counsel and help. He was Polpo's most trusted mafioso and went above and beyond to complete his missions. He ran his territory well and kept businesses alive. Giving his team a second thought, he probably picked them up off the street and took them in. The younger ones looked a little rough around the edges, and the one that was probably Narancia did not know what comb was. Still, I have run into a lot of people that looked like good people who ended up being rotten to the core.

I sighed and rubbed my face. I needed more coffee, but I didn't want to get up to actually make it. I was pretty much done with Bruno Buccellati, and I needed to move on the other targets my client had hired me to dig up dirt on. That is, if Buccellati didn't come after me and cut my life very short.

I sighed again and stood up, starting up the coffee maker. I watched blankly as the pot filled with caffeinated hot bean water. I needed to stay alert. I needed to stay awake. My life might depend on it.

I poured myself some coffee and walked back to my desk. I didn't need this information much anymore. I put everything in a manila folder and put it into a small safe under my desk. Damn thing was heavy, so it wasn't like anyone was carrying it out anytime soon. I took out my small spiral notebook from my bag, and looked at the list I had written a few days before. It was the list of targets I had been hired to investigate. I took out a pencil and crossed out Buccellati's name. Who would be the best target to go after next?

My head snapped up. There was a knock at my door. I quickly shoved the notebook back in my bag. There were a few possibilities going through my head. My client; he seemed to be a little impatient when I took the job from him. It could be a potential client, they liked to drop in sometimes. Or, it was Buccellati. That last one had my heart thumping against my chest and adrenaline filling my veins. I checked the guns on my person. Everything could go bad very quickly.

I stood up and crossed the room. I hesitated for just a moment before grasping the doorknob and pulling it open.

My heart stopped for just a moment. Before me stood Bruno Buccellati and Abbacchio, their eyes bearing down on me with serious expressions on their faces. I did my best to maintain a stony expression despite the terror filling me.

"Can I help you, Gentlemen?" I asked professionally. I might be able to talk my way out of this.

Buccellati nods his head slightly. "Yes. Do you have time to talk, miss?"

"I do." I moved aside and gestured for them to enter. They slid past me and moved to the chairs situated across from my desk. I swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Of all the things that could have happened, this was probably the worst. I would have to be smart about this.

I moved over to my office chair to sit down. A part of me was quite pleased to see Abbacchio becoming visibly uncomfortable trying to settle himself in his chair. Buccellati also looked very uncomfortable, but he was trying his best to not let it show.

"Allow us to introduce ourselves," Buccellati said as I pulled myself up to my desk. "My name is Bruno Buccellati," he gestured to Abbacchio, who had a stern glare on his face, "And my companion is Leone Abbacchio."

"A pleasure," I replied politely.

"It's not," Abbacchio shot back in a low voice. The glare on his face intensified.

Buccellati looked back to me with suspicious eyes. "Though, I am sure that you already know who we are."

"It is my business to know things, Mr. Buccellati." I had to be careful. "Word of you has spread throughout Napoli. It is not uncommon to hear tales of you in the crowds." I looked over at Abbacchio. "And Abbacchio and I served on the same police force together. We had some assignments together from time to time. Now, you said that you would like to speak with me. Are you interested in my services?"

"Not quite." Buccellati shifted his weight a little. "Your reputation precedes you, Miss (Y/N). You are known as a very talented private investigator, perhaps one of the best in Napoli."

I chuckled a bit. "Those words are not mine, Mr. Buccellati. I let my clients decide for themselves if my work is up to par." I tilted my head a little. "It also seems you know who I am. You know your way among the town gossip."

Buccellati cracked a small smile. "It has helped me before in the past, I must admit." His eyes bore into mine again. "What exactly do you do in this profession of yours, Miss (Y/N)?"

I had to play it cool, use a bit of misdirection. "I am a private investigator. I investigate whatever my clients hire me to. Cheating spouses, missing family members, the occasional long lost flame. Many people think that we like working with reporters, but they almost never tell the full story. Police are not much better. Too wrapped up in internal politics to investigate properly and arrest the right people."

"Many people also think that you investigate corruption." Buccellati interjected, his eyes still trained on me. "There are many politicians that do whatever it takes to achieve their goals, no matter how illegal."

I took a breath in. "I don't do that kind of investigating, Mr. Buccellati. If I were to investigate one bad politician, it would take me years to unravel the web of misdeeds and lies. Bad people tend to work with other bad people, who would also be exposed. All for what?" I shrugged. "There will always be corrupt politicians. Removing one would lead to another taking his place, if you could remove him at all. Best to stay out of it entirely. There are many people out there who need help that the police and politicians cannot provide. In doing my work, I hope to provide some solace to them."

"Do you really believe that garbage?" Abbacchio growled at me. Anger was washing over him. "Talking about helping people by going through their private lives. Sounds like a load of shit to me."

"Abbacchio, calm down," Buccellati ordered. His voice was stern and commanding. Abbacchio turned away, becoming more broody by the minute.

Buccellati looked back at me. "Passione is a powerful organization in Napoli, and all of Italia for that matter. It controls one of the largest drug trades in the world, and engages in many illegal activities. Surely, there would be people interested in finding out all they can about it, and the people who comprise its members?"

Buccellati was proding around, trying to find a way to pin me down. I would have to be careful how I answered "Yes, there are many people who would like to uncover the secrets of Passione. I have had my fair share of people try to enlist my services, but I have made it policy to turn them down. The mafiosi don't much like it when people go sniffing around where they shouldn't, and they tend to respond rather violently when they do. I also do not take any assignments from members of Passione. One job leads to another, and you either end up a member of Passione yourself or very much dead. Neither sound very appealing to me."

Buccellati nodded intently. "What kind of people do you take these "assignments" from, Miss (Y/N)?"

I looked at him suspiciously. "A variety of individuals. If you are wanting specifics, I am afraid I have a strict confidentiality policy. I do not share any information about any previous or current clients, or anyone I have or am investigating. Any information I find stays between me and the respective client. What they do with said information is their business."

Buccellati narrowed his eyes at me. " I want to change subjects, if you don't mind."

I nodded. "Go ahead." I had the sense that this conversation was taking a turn for the worse. I could feel my pulse speed up.

"Yesterday, Abbacchio saw you taking photos of me and my team as we were leaving a restaurant." Abbacchio turned back to me and stared at me like he was reading my soul " Not only were you taking photos of us, you were in the perfect location to take them. You were either very lucky that day, or you had been investigating me and tracking my movements." He leans forward, his voice becoming more direct and commanding. "So I ask you, what were you doing there that day, and why were you taking photos of us?"

I had to keep reminding myself to stay calm. I could not let anything important slip. I could not show weakness. And I could not answer that question. "I am not at liberty to say. I told you I keep my work confidential."

"That's fucking bullshit," Abbacchio yelled at me. "You know damn well that someone is trying to get dirt on us!"

"I told you, whether or not that is true, I cannot and will not release any information to anyone but my client."

Abbacchio stood up suddenly, violently knocking over the chair in the process. Anger seethed across his body. "I am not taking any more of this. You tell us everything, or I will beat the living shit out of you!"

I stood up, pulled the pistol out of my jacket and aimed it at him. I knew that if I pulled the trigger, the first bullet would lodge right between his eyes.

"You can try, but you would have to reach me first."

Before anything else could happen, there was a small flash of blue light in the corner of my eye, before something hit me square in the chest. I fell back a few feet, my body feeling like it was tearing apart. I landed on my side, my muscles not functioning and my joints not moving. I didn't know what kind of weapon Buccellati had used on me, but it was very effective. I moved my head a little, just enough for Buccallati and Abbacchio to come into view.

Buccallati looked deep into my eyes, murderous intent in his cool blue pools. "I'm tired of playing games, Miss (Y/N). Tell us what we want to know, or I will have to resort to more extreme measures. And know that I am very good at telling when people are lying."

I gave him a defiant glare. "You think you are the first person to threaten me? I have put up with a lot of shit in my life, I doubt you can do anything to me to make me talk."

His gaze lingered on me for a few seconds. Then he looked to Abbacchio. "Move her onto her back and support her head. I want her to see this."

Abbacchio nodded and knelt down next to me, sliding his hands under my arms and easing me onto my back. He pulled me up to his chest, and I could see my body splayed out in front of me. My arms and legs were in strange and unnatural angles, but they didn't look broken or damaged. Still, they were doing some very unnatural things.

I looked up at Buccellati. He was rolling the sleeves of this suit jacket to expose his forearms. "There have been many sorts of punishments used over the course of human existence," he said as he kneeled beside me. "Disembowelment is particularly brutal and painful. Most people don't tend to live through it. It just so happens that I have an ability that allows such an act to be easier on the both of us."

He outstretched an empty hand, and touched me just above my collar bone. If I could move, I would have flinched away. Abbacchio and Buccellati's strange power kept me from doing much of anything. Buccellati clenched his hand like he was grasping something. He then moved his hand down my sternum, over my abdomen, and stopped just below my navel. A thin line was left on my clothing. He then took both hands and pulled on both sides of the line he drew. Slowly, my clothes and my skin separated together to reveal what lay underneath.

I could see inside myself. I saw my heart as it drummed and sent blood shooting through my arteries and veins. I could see my lungs rise and fall with my breathing. I watched my stomach churn and move. My intestines pulsed as they did their digestive dance. I could see all the red and soft organs that were keeping me alive and well. Everything was wet and held together by long, thin membranes you could see though. I couldn't move, but that didn't stop me from shaking in fear.

"How easy it would be to kill you," Buccelatti said as he looked into my eyes. "All I would have to do is squeeze your aorta until your cells die of oxygen deficiency, if your heart doesn't explode first. Or I could cut off the air to your lungs and let you suffocate. But if I wanted to make this really painful," He moved his hands over to where my intestines pulsated, "I could simply disembowel you. That would be much longer and more painful, giving me more time to get some answers out of you."

My shaking was becoming worse, my breathing becoming ragged. I kept my eyes locked on Buccellati, avoiding the horror he had unleashed. "Even if I do tell you, you would just end up killing me anyway."

He gave me a small, terrifying smile. "I may be a mafioso, Miss (Y/N), but I can assure you that I am a man of my word. You tell me what I want to know, and all this will end."

"Either way, I'll be spilling my guts."

"That's the idea."

He reached into my body and grabbed hold of my small intestine. Reaching into his pocket, he brought out a small pocket knife, flipping it open. He brought the blade to my abdominal cavity, preparing to cut the thin membrane that held my organs in place. He was going to pull my intestines out right in front of me.

Tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to thrash around, do something to stop it, but nothing was working. I could feel hot tears running down my face. I began to scream, to beg, to plead with Buccellati to stop. This was not worth getting my intestines ripped out for. This was not worth dying over.

"What were you doing yesterday?" he demanded an answer. "Why were you watching us? Why were you photographing us?"

The tears kept coming. "I was hired to."

"Obviously. Who hired you?" Buccellati nearly yelled.

I choked out the client's name.

He thought for a moment. "You said that you didn't work for politicians. You also said that you don't investigate members of Passione. You are either lying or you are very confused, and I doubt you are the latter."

I dropped my head back and stared at the ceiling. "It doesn't matter if I take the job or not. Either way, he ends up dead. They all do."

"They end up dead?" Abbacchio questioned from behind me.

"Fools who think they can fix everything. Undo all the terrible things that Passione has done. Rid Napoli of corrupt people. They don't understand what they get themselves into." I swallowed and let more tears fall. "I try to warn them. Try to tell them they are playing with fire, but they never listen. They are so hellbent on being the hero that they don't have time to listen. It doesn't matter if I get them the information or not. They never have enough time to do anything with it. Passione always finds out. Passione always comes for them. And the fools always end up dead."

My words hung in the air for a moment, the mafiosi taking in what I had said. "That still doesn't explain why you took the job." Abbacchio said softly. "You could have refused him."

"I know, " I whispered. "But if I did, he would turn to other places to get what they want, and most of them are being funded by the government officials or are members of Passione. He would be found out and dealt with much quicker than if he came to me. The problem is, idiots like him tend to have family and friends that care about them. If I take the job, instead of someone else, he might live just a day longer."

I lowered my eyes to look at Buccellati again. He looked intently at me, but I couldn't read his expression. What was he thinking? Did he hate me? Did he think I was a fool for even thinking like this? Did he feel sorry for me for lying to myself, justifying working for these poor souls?

Buccellati put the knife back in his pocket, taking out a handkerchief to clean his wet hand. He stood up and walked over to my chest. "Help her up, Abbacchio." The two of them lifted me to my feet, careful not to hurt me.

I looked down at my body again. My limbs were normal and straight. There was no gaping whole in my torso. I was magically whole again. I wiped some of the tears off my face. What kind of superpowers did these people have?

I took control over my body again, trying to regain my balance. I smoothed out my clothing and adjusted myself. I took a deep breath in. "If you gentlemen would excuse me," I said without looking at the mafiosi, " I will return shortly." I promptly walked out the door and turned down the hall. I opened the lady's room door and headed to the sink.

I took a few haggard breaths. My body had stopped shaking but I was still trying to recover. I wasn't dead yet. I was still intact. I just needed to let my body calm down.

As far as interrogations go, that was very effective for how little he actually hurt me. How the hell did Buccellati open me up like that without actually cutting into me? Was this all some sort of fever dream? Or a nightmare?

I turned on the faucet and ran the water over my hands. I needed to gather myself. I splashed the cool water over my face. I glanced at the mirror as my face dripped. I looked like death. All the color had drained from my face, there were dark bags under my eyes. Even the muscles under my face didn't have enough energy to move properly. I grabbed a few paper towels and dried my face.

I was so tired. I didn't want to be here anymore, to deal with Buccellati anymore. I just wanted to sleep forever and let the world pass me by. Damn it all.

I gripped the edge of the sink. I had to go back in there. I had to face them one more time. I didn't have a choice. They had gotten what they wanted from me. I didn't know what other information they would attempt to get from me. I didn't know if I would want to give it to them. Besides, my bag was still in there.

I gave myself a few more adjustments in the mirror before walking out into the hall. I told myself to breathe, to stay calm. I forced myself to walk to my office door. I gripped the doorknob. I turned it and opened the door.

Abbacchio was sitting on top of my desk, one leg tucked under him while the other dangled off the side. Buccellati stood off to the side, involved intensy with the conversation with his companion. The chair that Abbacchio flipped over was still laying on its side. They did, however, pick up my office chair. The both of them looked at me as I opened the door.

"Are you alright, Miss (Y/N)?" Buccellati asked me, a concerned look on his face.

I closed the door behind me. "Well enough, at least." I looked up at him. "I am surprised you would even ask that."

He gave me a strange look. "I may be a mafioso, but I am not heartless."

"You could have fooled me."

Buccellati looked at me intensely. "You would do whatever necessary to protect what is important to you, am I right Miss (Y/N)?"

I thought for a moment. "I suppose so."

"So would I. In my business, people important to you end up dead if not protected."

I sighed. "I see your point, Mr. Buccellati." I walked over to my office chair. "My question is, who is important to you? Who is so close to you that you would torture and kill to protect?"

"Haven't you done enough digging as it is?" Abbacchio growled at me. He was always a little prone to bad moods, but I don't remember him being this bad.

I glared at him. "I answered you damn questions, you might as well answer mine."

Buccellati raised his hand. "She's right, Abbacchio. We owe her an explanation for what happened that day." He looked back to me. "Miss (Y/N), would you join us for lunch? I would be happy to answer any questions you have."

I gave him a confused look. "Why would you trust me? How do you know I won't just sell all the information you give me?"

"I agree," Abbacchio spoke up. "This is stupid, Buccellati. We have more pressing matters to attend to."

Buccellati looked back to me, a small smile on his face. "Something tells me that you can be trusted. But I will only answer you questions if you come with us."

I thought for a few moments. This could be a trap, certainly. But I didn't think so. Buccellati didn't seem like he had something up his sleeve. Free food also didn't sound so bad either. I leaned down and grabbed my bag.

"Lead the way."

Half an hour later, I was sitting in a restaurant. The very same restaurant I watched the day before. Sitting across from me was a very calm Buccellati and a not as calm Abbacchio. I scanned over the menu, trying to narrow down what I wanted to eat. It all sounded so good. After the waiter took our orders, he whisked away our menus, leaving the three of us to talk.

Buccellati folded his hands over his face. "So, what do you want to know?"

I thought for a moment. "Narancia Ghirga. Why is he on your team? I can understand Abbacchio. He has a lot of skills from his career as a police officer. He also has a lot of knowledge on how both criminals and police operate. Pannacotta Fugo is extremely intelligent, and can probably think his way around problems. Narancia has no particular skills or qualities that set him apart."

He took a breath in. "It is not a simple story. Fugo found him alone and broken on the street. He brought Narancia to me in the hopes that I could help feed him. He was also in bad shape and needed extensive medical treatment. I made sure he had a full recovery. I could tell as time went on he began to idolize me." He looked away for a minute. "This life I lead is not for most people. It can destroy you if you are not careful. I didn't want to drag Narancia into it. I sent him home to his father to continue his education."

I leaned forward, intrigued by the story he was crafting. "Then how did he become a mafioso?"

Buccellatti gave a momentary smirk. "He went behind my back. Went directly to Polpo for initiation. He requested to be under my command. I accepted." He took a sip of his water. "He might not look like much, but Narancia fights to the bitter end. He is deadly when he wants to be, and is extremely loyal. I could not ask for a better charge."

During the course of the meal, I asked many questions. I learned more about what had happened to Abbacchio, the hard choices he had to make. I learned about Fugo, the difficult life he led of study and high expectations. And I learned of Buccellati, his life of fending for himself and his father. Now, he fights for Napoli, doing what he can for the people.

While the stories were being told, I told mine. I had always wanted to make a difference here. There was this righteousness that always burned within me. But whenever I tried, someone or something always stopped me. The only correct way to get anything done in Napoli is the illegal way. So I stopped trying. I used my skills to support myself, maybe help where I could. But the more you dig up, the more you realize how evil people can be. The more it beats you down and takes hold of your soul.

By the time everything was said, we had finished eating and Buccellati was paying the bill. Once he had finished, he looked to me. "Would you wait for us outside, Miss (Y/N)? There is something I would like to discuss with Abbacchio."

I nodded. "Of course."

I wandered out the front door and leaned against the building. I watched the people pass by. One person in particular caught my eye. A teenage boy wearing an altered pink private school uniform. His blond hair braided down his back and his bangs intricately set. A strange sight indeed. But not the most extravagant person you would see in Napoli.

I saw Buccellati and Abbacchio walk out of the restaurant. I stood up and walked to them. "Before we part ways," Buccellati said to me, "I have one more question to ask you."

"Another one?" I joked.

He smiled for a moment. "Just one. What do you think of joining my team? With your skills, you would make a valuable asset. You already know Abbacchio, and the two of you would work well together."

"I am the last person who would want to join Passione," I said promptly.

He shook his head. "You would be a member of Passione, but you would be working for me." He looked intently at me. "You of all people would know how I run things. I am trying to make Napoli better for everyone. Would you join me in doing that?"

I avoided eye contact, trying to make sense of everything. Just earlier that day, we thought of each other as enemies. Now, he had seen something in me that compelled him to ask me to join his cause. And Abbacchio had agreed to this? He had been so antagonistic towards me.

I looked Buccellati directly in the eyes. "I would need to wrap up my assignments, or try to get out of them somehow. But, yes. I will join you, Mr. Buccellati."

He nodded. "Good. I was hoping that would be your answer. By the way, you don't have to call me 'Mr.' anymore. Bruno will do just fine"

I smiled up at him. "You don't have to call me 'Miss.' either. (Y/N) works just as well."

[rufousnmacska]

Secrets and Confessions Part 5

A Crescent City Ruhn-Hypaxia fic

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

*****

Part 5

*****

Ruhn was in the process of sorting through a pile of probably useless tech when the knock came at his door. Expecting Bryce, he yelled, “No one’s here.”

The door opened to reveal Tharion Ketos, wearing a tailored suit and a smug grin.

“Fuck,” Ruhn grumbled. “What the fuck do you want?”

Ketos walked in as if he owned the place, pulling out a chair and taking in the room with curious eyes. The books on the seat were moved to the desk, atop a precarious stack of papers. “Hello to you too. Do you always swear so much?”

“All the fucking time,” Ruhn said, not bothering to return the greeting. He left the junk and turned to face Ketos. “Who let you in?”

“Your band mates.”

“What?”

Ketos wrinkled his brow. “Aren’t you three in a band or something? The way you all dress made me think-“

Ruhn growled. “What. Do. You. Want.”

The mer held up his hands in a peace offering and leaned back in the chair. “I’m here to discuss some things.”

“This better be Aux related because if it isn’t, I’m throwing your ass out.”

“Well I’m in luck because it is about your Aux unit.”

He hoped Tharion couldn’t see the disappointment on his face. He’d heard nothing from Hypaxia in the last few days. And he was too much of a coward to contact her, even though his control was eroding. He was embarrassingly close to calling her. Signaling for Tharion to go on, he sat on his bed, willing himself to concentrate.

“How many of your Aux unit would follow you?” the mer asked. “Hypothetically. Rough numbers.”

“To overthrow the asteri? Or to overthrow my father?”

“Both.”

Ruhn barked a laugh as Ketos was apparently done with the bullshit. He held the male’s sharp gaze as he thought about it. Just a few weeks ago he’d wanted to be involved with the rebels. Had even considered this very question, on many occasions. His Aux unit was comprised of the best of the Valbaran Fae. The strongest and smartest. All of them would follow him against the asteri.

Against his father though …

“Are they mutually exclusive?” He didn’t give a shit about his father. But he wasn’t sure if he was ready to lead a coup either.

“Not necessarily. If you can suggest a way to do one without your father becoming an equally bad replacement, I’m all ears.”

“Shit.” He really didn’t need to say anything else. The rebels might not know the extent of his father’s plans, but they had to have a good idea. They’d be idiots to not have a plan for the power vacuum if they were successful against the asteri.

Tharion stood and straightened out his suit jacket. “You can think about it. Let me know.” He headed for the door, and just as Ruhn was about to break and ask about her, Tharion said, “She wanted to tell you. Since the Summit. I know you understand why she couldn’t.” He made a vague gesture in reference to the ever-present cameras and recordings throughout the city. “And I know you understand that it was for your safety as well as for ours. Now, I can’t speak to anything personal between you two. But Hypaxia is the last person in the world to manipulate someone. Even for this cause. She’s the moral compass of the operation. And if you can’t get over whatever bullshit betrayal you’ve concocted in that pierced head of yours … Well, I guess it’ll be your loss.”

Ruhn said nothing as Tharion opened the door and started out. But the mer wasn’t done. With a wink, he said, “Your loss might be my gain.” And before Ruhn could throw something at him, he shut the door, yelling back, “Call her you fucking idiot!”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “What the fuck just happened?”

A buzz came from his phone and he rolled his eyes. The evening check in.

Did you clean your room yet?

For fuck’s sake Bryce. What’s with this obsession about cleaning?

It’s a good distraction when you feel like shit. Believe me. I know.

The truth in that made his annoyance fade. And made him feel bad for wallowing in self pity for so long. She’d survived much worse than a break-up. Considering where they’d been less than a year ago, barely speaking, fighting when they did … He smiled, glad that she was hounding him.

He sent her a photo of the progress he’d made, which he thought was pretty good. She disagreed and told him to get back to work.

As you wish your highness.

Don’t fucking call me that.

Ok your highness.

If you keep it up I’m coming over to supervise.

He sent a princess symbol with a heart. The heart always worked to end her tirades.

Laying back on his bed, he stared at his phone, wondering if he should take Tharion’s advice.

Tomorrow, he thought. After I straighten some shit out.

In the meantime, he went out into the hallway and shouted for Flynn and Dec. They came up after getting rid of the drunk fae and shifters they’d had over. Luckily, Dec was stone cold sober, and Flynn was close enough.

“How many from the unit can we trust?” He didn’t need to go into more detail. They knew everything he did about his father. Hel, they knew everything about him.

Everything except the truth about the Oracle’s prophecy. Which now seemed like it might be a good thing. If ending the bloodline meant ending the threat posed by his father, then Ruhn had no problem with his destiny. He’d proudly sacrifice his title if it led to a meaningful peace for Midgard.

His fingers itched to call Hypaxia and tell her exactly that.

But just then, Dec began rattling off names. Tristan nodded along, a far off look in his eyes that meant he was planning. And so Ruhn began planning too.

*****

The room was much emptier than Hypaxia had been expecting. Instead of a table surrounded by all the upper echelon rebels and their seconds, a lone figure sat at the far end. There wasn’t a single ashy blonde hair out of place on Jesiba Roga’s head, and her eyes were as unforgiving as the sharp edged nails she tapped on the table.

“You’re early,” she said by way of greeting. Hypaxia almost let out a breath of relief, thinking that meant there would be more coming. But the witch had seen, or sensed, her reaction and said, “It’s just us today.”

Sitting a fair distance away, she said, “I was told the full group would be meeting. Did I receive incorrect information?”

Jesiba didn’t answer, just took a drink from a glass that held a golden brown liquid. It looked like scotch, but Hypaxia didn’t know for sure. And she wouldn’t, as the witch didn’t offer her anything, alcohol or otherwise.

Hypaxia was tired. Already tired of the political bullshit required not just in her role with the rebellion, but as queen. Technically, regardless of what she’d renounced and who she now claimed to serve, Jesiba was one of her subjects. Hypaxia wasn’t stupid enough to order her to do anything. But for Cthona’s sake the witch could show a little respect. If not to her queen, at least to another person.

The grin that twisted Jesiba’s mouth made her remember where she was. Remember her place. Queen or not, she wasn’t in charge here. But she’d be damned if she played the good little witch to this sorceress.

She suddenly thought of Ruhn, realizing his fondness for cursing had rubbed off on her. Ignoring the pang in her heart, she returned Jesiba’s smile.

“I assume you are aware of the various prophecies at play here,” Jesiba said, the unspoken “girl” successfully conveyed in her condescending tone.

Refusing to be baited, Hypaxia simply said, “I am the Witch Queen.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Which means you’re aware of what role your lover is to take. Or, is it former lover? I’m afraid I haven’t kept up on the state of your affairs.”

Wanting to roll her eyes at the stupid double entendre, she let it and the insult go. “Of course I am aware. That is why I want him recruited.”

“Still?”

“Still.”

Jesiba ran her finger around the lip of her glass as she studied her. It made a wavering, melodic sound that left Hypaxia thinking of Ruhn again, and his sensitive hearing. She’d never considered herself a good singer, but he adored her voice. Whether she was speaking or singing, humming or moaning, he would sometimes close his eyes in appreciation.

“The union of the sword and blade is not something to be left in the hands of the fae. The Autumn King is a fool if he thinks otherwise.” Jesiba’s brusqueness tugged her out of the soft memories.

“The Prince is not a fool. And he is not a minion of his father.”

Those cold gray eyes were like shards of ice and Hypaxia felt her skin prickle. She knew Jesiba was skilled in all kinds of power. Witch magic as well as whatever ghastly practices she’d learned from the Under King. But Hypaxia had been taught by her mother, by the wise, old witch elders, and by the other ancient beings hidden in their mountains. Jesiba’s attempt to enter her mind would not work.

“I have nothing to hide Ms. Roga. Why don’t you just ask me your questions and we can both return to our work.”

The witch smiled that knife-like grin again, giving off a fleeting look that Hypaxia thought might be admiration. At her ability to keep Jesiba from shuffling through her thoughts or her bluntness, she wasn’t sure.

After another drink, Jesiba said, “Danaan is necessary. I don’t like it, but he’s necessary. As critical to our goal as his sister.”

At the mention of Bryce, Hypaxia caught another quick expression on the witch’s face, like that of a parent worried for her child. She’d seen it often enough on her own mother’s face to recognize it.

Jesiba continued. “Mirrors of the starborn siblings begot by Theia. Both of Theia’s daughters inherited their mother’s power, but not equally.”

Hypaxia wanted to argue that Ruhn had more to him than met the eye, perhaps even his own eye. But she didn’t. Those powers were his to wield. His to understand and develop. He’d kept them hidden for a reason and it was not her place to reveal them.

“Bryce is the horn,” Hypaxia said, knowing the prophecies as she’d already stated and hoping to shorten Jesiba’s lesson. “She will open the rift so we may dispose of the asteri and then seal it.”

“It’s not quite that simple.”

The previous disdain in Jesiba’s tone had returned. Her own annoyance bubbled close to the surface. Hypaxia knew damn well that it wasn’t that simple. The asteri were ancient, immensely powerful beings. “So why is the prince necessary? Beyond the sword?”

“The sword isn’t his.”

That stopped Hypaxia and she couldn’t help the shock that settled on her face. “What do you mean? He pulled it from the stone in Avallen.”

“It calls more strongly for Bryce. For her starlight.”

She held Jesiba’s icy stare, thinking, remembering the prophecies and the visions she’d just claimed to know. Running through all the arcane knowledge passed on from her mother. When it hit her, she felt her eyes widen. And saw another brief look of approval cross the witch’s face.

“He is the blade,” she whispered.

The approval disappeared as fast as it had come. Sorrow, genuine and unexpected, met Hypaxia’s gaze now.

Despite all her training, this had been a detail left unexplained. Either unknown by her witches, or unspoken.

The blade did not truly exist. Not literally. It was a metaphor. And like Helena’s sister, Theia’s lesser known daughter, the blade was to be the sacrifice.

Prince Pelias had killed the younger sister himself with the Starsword, joining her fractional amounts of starlight to his own to ensure the rift was sealed.  

Jesiba had known.

“I am sorry to be the bearer of such news,” Jesiba said, having the grace to continue looking sorry.

Hypaxia sat, silent and unmoving. Ruhn was to die for this rebellion to succeed.

She’d been under no illusions that most of them, or even any of them, would survive this. She wasn’t foolish. And yet, she’d allowed herself to fall in love with him. Let him become such a huge and necessary part of her life, that she didn’t want to imagine her life without him.

“He knows,” she croaked. “About the rebellion. He caught me meeting with Tharion and he overheard …” She trailed off. Jesiba wasn’t reacting. Which meant she’d already heard about it from Tharion. “Why are you telling me this? Why now?”

“Against my better judgment, I like you. I will never recognize you as my queen, but … I am pleased that you are leading the witches.”

Hypaxia didn’t reply, not sure if the admission was a veiled slight against her mother.

“Hel,” Jesiba went on with a harsh laugh, “I even like Danaan. You two are a good match.”

“Then why? Why refuse me every time I asked to bring him in?”

“I should think that is clear. Though, maybe my reputation has outgrown itself. I may be a coldhearted bitch, but I’m not entirely heartless.” After a pause, she said, “I knew you were growing close to him. Even if his role in this won’t be borne out for several years, making you live with that knowledge was not my first choice. With the loss of your mother still fresh, I didn’t think you should have to deal with another death.”

Another death.

Unbidden, a memory of her mother consumed Hypaxia. It was from shortly after she’d been diagnosed with her illness. Queen Hecuba didn’t look sick, which made the news harder to bear. And she didn’t seem concerned about the death sentence she’d just been given. Instead, she was calm and cool, like always, smiling at her daughter.

You will get through this, her mother had said, insisting on comforting others instead of seeking it. There will be worse to come. More battles to fight. But you will prevail. And at the end, you will not be alone.

At the time, she hadn’t considered that what her mother was saying might be prophetic. But now, she knew. It had been a vision. And while the words seemed vague, to a witch’s ears, they were anything but. From a mother to a daughter, the deeper meanings were obvious.

She blinked to find Jesiba still staring at her. Still examining her. There was no attempt to probe her mind again, just genuine curiosity. And anticipation.

“That’s not going to happen,” Hypaxia said forcefully, expecting some sort of dismissal. But Jesiba just smiled. What Hypaxia had once seen as contempt on the witch’s face, she now saw as respect. It was still that of an elder towards a student, a superior to an inferior. But it was there, genuine and appreciated. And it made her sit a little straighter.

“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear,” Jesiba said. “Bring him in. And do whatever the Hel it takes to get around that damn blade prophecy and make sure he lives. I’ll get you access to all of my resources.” Seemingly without thinking, Jesiba added, “You’re not the only one who would be devastated by his death.”

Bryce, Hypaxia realized, feeling stupid for not making the connection sooner. The only person Jesiba seemed to care about, despite her ridiculous threats to turn the woman into whatever low creature struck her fancy.

Jesiba rose to leave and reached the door as Hypaxia said, “Wait. If he agrees to become involved, I’m not hiding anything from him. He will be told everything.”

The witch shrugged. “That’s your call.” But her eyes narrowed and the air seemed to crackle around them in warning. “Telling Bryce is mine.” And with that, she was gone.

Under her breath, Hypaxia said, “You could have at least given me an idea of how to tell him.” Then, with a deep sigh, “Fuck.”

To be continued...

*****

Tagging @itach-i @queen-of-glass

Thanks for reading! If you’d like to be tagged let me know :)

Fanfic masterlist

[angeltriestoblog]

I figured out what I want to do with my life! And made a vision board!

It came to me in a flash, really. One minute, I was watching a handpainted narration of the life and death of one of the greatest painters of all time, and next thing you know, I've abandoned it completely and started furiously typing away at my laptop about what I envisioned myself to be in five years' time. And I know I've had my fair share of false alarms in life: I thought I had what it takes to be a lawyer after seeing Legally Blonde for the first time while on my way to a school field trip, and seriously considered pursuing a career as a fashion blogger or MTV VJ because I was kind of fed up with school.

But this one just makes sense. Advising and assisting clients in producing content, collaterals, and campaigns according to their business objectives and based on collected data! It marries my love for writing, my knack for snooping around (the academic term is research!), and the specialty in technology and management my university ensures I'll have at the end of my four-year degree. i have yet to see how it’ll allow me to give back to society since that’s also a factor I want to consider in looking for a dream job but I’ll make it work. I found it hard to sleep that night, thanks to this nerdy, giddy kind of adrenaline rush I had. I broke down this big idea into smaller and smaller action steps until all I had left was a refined list of ideas and intentions, and a splitting headache.

I needed to make sure I was constantly reminded of their existence so all my choices and decisions would serve as a step closer to reaching all of them. So I caved in to the wishes of the "law of attraction" side of the Internet, and created my very own vision board! Simply put, this act of visualization is a powerful technique that can be used to manifest desires and reach goals. Our subconscious minds mainly recognize symbols and images: by merely looking at our vision boards everyday, subliminal messages are being sent to our brains, which will encourage them to work tirelessly to achieve the statements we are feeding to them. I can't find any explanation for this that's less abstract but since many people seem to swear on it and I have a lot of free time and printer ink, I figured why not, right?

It was convenient that I had this small corkboard from Daiso already stuck to one corner of my bedroom wall with several layers of double-sided tape. It used to be a year-long calendar of birthdays but I realized that I've never referred to it and often have to rely on either Facebook reminders or stock knowledge--there is no in between. All I had to do was to look at my list of goals, and compile photos that correspond to each of them, cut them up and arrange them in an aesthetically pleasing manner. You'll see below that I lacked the stereotypical luxury car and beachfront mansion with a walk-in closet and that's because I decided to focus on my goals for the next five years so it looks even a little bit more achievable.  

Here's the finished product, along with explanations for each picture, to make this how-to more personal and to also hold myself accountable.

 Make my girl Jenna Rink and everybody at Poise proud by writing for a magazine | I had listed a specific one at the time, and if you follow me on Twitter and Instagram, you already know what it is and how this endeavor turned out - but on this blog, I'll shroud it in a little cloud of mystery for now and talk about it more in a future post. I'm very happy producing content for this space of mine and have no intention of stopping any time soon. But at the same time I know that I'd be missing out if I didn't take the chance to be part of a community that leads me to like-minded individuals, allows me to grow even more in my craft, and "gives creators a space to speak their minds and push the limits of their artistry, without imposing any restrictions or expectations", as I stated in my application form.

 Be active in three organizations next school year | (I had to blur one of them out because I'm not a member yet and I don't want to jinx it.) I know it's bold of me to assume that we'll be returning to school any time soon, but if we are ever lucky enough, I want to outdo myself when it comes to the orgs I'm a part of. I have been a good follower throughout my first two years of college but now I believe it's my time to try my hand at leading a group of people and being more involved in the conceptualization and execution of projects.

 Go on a trip to Europe | Not even just a specific group of countries anymore (I used to be a France, Italy, Spain supremacist)--I mean the entire continent! (But then again, with its rich history and culture, picturesque tourist spots, diverse cuisines... even the sheer adrenaline rush that comes with being in a land completely different from the one you come from, how could anyone not want to go?

 and 12. Get the job of my dreams | I actually nicked these photos from the website of a cooperative I want to work for once I graduate from college. I know that I can't plan out the rest of my career trajectory as early as now: things are bound to change at some point, but I hope that I stay in a field that combines creativity and business strategy to craft campaigns, create meaningful content, and market solutions to brands.

 Expand my network | I acknowledge how knowing people who know people who know people can open windows of opportunities that I wouldn't have been able to have anywhere else. But I also look forward to building genuine connections with people from all sorts of industries. Talking to the same circle of friends can sometimes feel like you're trapped in an echo chamber: there is certainly much to learn from others' viewpoints.

 Volunteer to teach kids | I don't think the written word could have changed my life as much as it did, had it not been for the presence of English teachers who believed in the power of the language to shape the minds of the youth. I guess this is just me trying to give back and help the next generation express their ideas and bring them to life by channeling my inner John Keating.

 Maintain a clean workspace that is conducive to productivity | Especially during these days, I spend a solid 18 out of 24 hours sat at my desk, trying my best to make magic happen. It's very important that I keep it a constant and active source of inspiration, free from any distractions, and at the right level of comfort. Although it's not as minimalist as I hoped it would be and my table is about an inch too high for my liking, I'm still pretty satisfied!

 Document memories consistently, be it through a physical or online journal | Speaking of clearing out my room, I recently found around 20 notebooks I had filled up over the years. Though maintaining them must have been such a hassle especially as I got older and reading through them was a distraction from completing the task at hand, I am thankful I painstakingly chronicled everything going on in my life and kept them in good condition. Seeing the goals I had set for myself all those years ago and how I achieved most of them without making a conscious effort has inspired me to do my older self a favor by putting in the work now so she can reap the rewards. (While I'm on this note, can anyone recommend a good app for journaling? I keep all my current entries in my Mac's Notes app because even though I am more of an analog person, I seemed to have lost the patience and persistence required to keep a physical journal. But at the same time, I'm scared of my laptop suddenly cr*shing and wiping out everything I had stored)

 Stay focused on my work always | I didn't know how to show this without having to spell it out in words so I Photoshopped my face onto the head of a woman working in a cafe because those who study in coffee shops along Katip always look like they're getting stuff done.

 Keep learning about the world even when I'm outside of the classroom | And this is not limited to frequenting the nearby museum, although that does sound like a great idea right now. This could also mean attending seminars, workshops, and talks, buying books and binge-watching documentaries or YouTube videos about a topic that I find interesting, engaging in discourse with someone (plus points if they have a different viewpoint!)

 Write my own book | Before I even found out that humans were destined to pick a career and work until they died, I already knew that I wanted to spend my days as a writer. Specifically, I wanted to see my name on the cover of a book: By Angel Martinez. (Please refer to the 4:32 of this video and look at how far this dream actually goes back.) But once I realized that I wanted to enter the world of business, I thought I would have to give this up altogether. Thankfully, I now know that one's ability to get published is not reliant on their career--I mean, even beauty gurus get book deals these days. I'm not really sure what it's going to be about but I'd honestly be down for anything: even if it's just a compilation of my best entries on this blog.

13. Go all out when I take myself on self-care dates | I'm talking about picnics at the beach, with a basket full of fruits, a posh looking hat, and a good piece of classic literature! Or fancy dinners for one complete with as many glasses of red wine as I can down! People watching at Downtown Disneyland like my paternal grandmother in hand, with a plastic bag of souvenirs on one hand and a cream cheese pretzel on the other! (The possibilities are endless and I'm already mapping most of them out.)

14. Be financially stable enough to re-enact that one scene in Pretty Woman where Vivian Ward struts down the streets of Beverly Hills in a chic white dress and black hat, an endless number of shopping bags in tow | The part where I humiliate a sales lady who snubbed me the day before because she didn't think I could afford what she was selling by saying, "You work on commission, right? That's right. Big mistake, big, huge." is entirely optional.

I also included some two inspirational sayings that were originally laptop wallpapers from The Everygirl. I feel like they perfectly sum up the attitude I want to have as I forge my own path and accomplish everything I have set out for myself. If I was somehow able to convince you that this activity serves as the perfect springboard for all your dreams and aspirations, here are a couple of tips that could hopefully help you make yours!

Be ready for some intense introspection | Though it may look like a simple arts and crafts activity at the surface, making an effective vision board simply cannot be achieved if you're not willing to do some much needed reflection and watch it balloon into a full-on existential crisis. Identify which areas of your life are most important to you and how you would like to see them evolve over a period of time.

Specificity is key | The trick is to make your goals as concrete as possible, then translate them into visual elements. I know some people who wanted to get into particular universities, who have Photoshopped their names onto acceptance letters and pinned those to their corkboards. As stupid as that may sound in retrospect, I reckon it's an elaborate way of claiming something that's right within your reach.

Design it any way you want | Don't feel pressured to make it look like it's worthy to be on someone else's Pinterest because that's exactly how you lose sight of why you're doing it in the first place. The only person your final output has to resonate with is you.

Don't get discouraged | Although a vision board can attract positive energy and manifest your intentions to the universe, one thing it isn't capable of doing is granting your wishes in an instant. Don't be upset if what you have cut out and stuck on has yet to happen: I truly believe in the saying that the more you look for something, the more it seems to avoid you. Instead, continue to work hard and focus on the progress that you have already made.

Have you made a vision board of your own already? How has it turned out, and how many of the things you had put up have come true? I know you may be a complete stranger from the other side of the world but I'd be happy to hear from you anyway! Wishing you love and light always, especially during trying times such as this. Wash your hands, pray for our frontliners, and check your privilege!

[river-phillips]

This Is The House That Doubt Built | River, Maya & Iann

Accompanied by Iann and Maya, River checks out the home of the late witch Leeman Calloway, her only lead on finding her parents. A man obviously linked to her parents in some way, he must have left answers behind. But will the house have what she needs, or simply leave her with more questions?

@ianncardero   @mayaparker

River had been sitting outside of the house for about fifteen minutes, intentionally here earlier than she’d told Iann and Maya to meet her. She’d checked the house number and the street sign against the slip of paper Ephram had given her more times than she could count, just to be sure. It wasn’t the mansion she’d been expecting from a witch with old money, but it was still one of the biggest houses in the area. The architecture definitely had european influences, looking like the oldest place on the block. She sat on the stair of her RV, facing the house. The windows seemed like mirrors in the setting sunlight, reflecting the blinding light into her eyes. When she heard a car pull up, she gave Jackson a little pat on the head and then closed him inside the RV.

Maya showed up pretty much as soon as she could given travel time. Honestly she jumped at the opportunity to think of something other than Shaw. The house was Tudor in style or some sort of English anyway. Instead of approaching the house though she went over to River where the selkie sat on the stair of her RV. "What's up dude?" she asked.

The chugging old Westfalia showed up, and Iann parked it across the street, jogging over to where the two women were. "This place?" Iann asked, squinting up at the rather well-maintained house. Iann was surprised; he'd been expecting something a bit more...shack-like. He paced in front of it, trying to look around the sides. "Either someone's been doing the up-keep on the outside, or this place has a spell on it. Externally, anyway." He looked at River. "We should make sure there aren't any, ah, booby traps."

River greeted Maya when she showed up with a small wave, and soon Iann was upon them as well, already jumping into it and scoping out the house. "Probably the neighbors," River said, gesturing to the other houses on the block. "People probably trim the hedges and cut the grass so their property values don't go down." At the mention of traps, River looked to Maya. "I think that's your cue." The sun was setting quickly, and the street lights had kicked on. River reached into the small backpack she had sitting at her feet and handed each of them flashlights.

Maya glanced up when the Westfalia rolled up. Iann didn't both with pleasantries instead immediately speculating on the presence of booby traps in the house. When River mentioned that was her area of expertise she shrugged, "I mean I thought I was just hear for my Young Frankenstein references, but yeah I can see what i can do." She approached the front of the house. Closing her eyes she felt some sort of barricade in front of her. "Yeah, there's something here. Like a..." she searched her mind and her magic for the word. "An illusion." Stepping past the edge of the yard she opened her eyes. The yard had transformed into an overgrown mess. "Oh yeah, this is a hot mess," she said and glanced back at Iann and River, "But no booby traps as of yet."

Iann barked a laugh at River's speculation about the neighbours keeping the place maintained for the sake of curb appeal, and when Maya used her magic to confirm it, Iann nodded and snorted. "The things we do for appearances..." Iann clicked his tongue, then looked down at River, motioning her to follow Maya. "After you," he said, as if it was an incredibly generous offer. "I have my lockpicks if it's needed." If Maya had her own ways, Iann didn't mind that either. "Or maybe we'll get lucky and the front door will be ominously unlocked, ooooooh." He squiggled his fingers lightly along River's small shoulderblades.

River raised her eyebrows as Maya confirmed an illusion on the property and Iann had a laugh about it. "I guess that's the muggle in me," she chuckled. It was times like this when she was acutely aware of just how out of touch with the supernatural she still was, even if she felt she was getting a hold on it all. She stepped up to the front of their little group and sure enough, the yard was overgrown and the exterior of the house was in complete disarray. A pit formed in her stomach as she approached the porch, and when Iann tickled her back, she jumped, letting a hand fly back to slap his arm. "Not cool!" she hissed with an involuntary smile. Turning back to the door, she grabbed the knob and pushed. To her surprise, it swung open. The house had that cliche haunted house feel. The creepy crawlies. The heebie jeebies. Whatever you wanted to call them. As the door creaked open and the moaning of the hinges echoed through the house, the River stepped inside. Even though there had been an estate sale after Calloway’s death, there was still quite a bit of stuff there. It seemed the place had been ransacked before, but many drabber items had simply been left alone. Cobwebs hung across furniture covered in sheets. Floorboards were missing and the white wallpaper was dirty and peeling. Teens had definitely gotten in here at least once before, sprawling graffiti across the walls in blood red spray paint that bled into eerie patterns. It was easy to see how this house was once a rather stately place to live, however. Gold and silver fixtures were stuck on many iron accents (with some of them recognizably snapped or cut off, undoubtably for the cash). The hardwood floor was a magnificent oak, and the staircase leading up from the foyer was equally as beautiful, even under the heavy coat of dust. To each side of the foyer was a dining and living room, left and right respectively, and leading back past the staircase was the kitchen it looked like, and undoubtedly a few rooms back there she couldn’t see the entrance to. “Where should we start?” she asked the others.

Maya found the fact the front door was unlocked almost unbearably suspicious. She held her flashlight in a way that meant it could be used to hit someone. Upon entering the house she first looked for movement. Hearing and seeing none did nothing to relax her. Although to be fair she was on edge a lot these days. "Well when I was a delinquent teen we didn't bother looking for basements, so I'd start there. Maybe a dumbwaiter?" She paused, considering a moment her own motives. "Honestly I might just want there to be a dumbwaiter."

Iann was surprised that the door was open, and although he was playing off as light-hearted, his eyes were sharp and keen as he looked around. Fortunately he was taller than the other two and could look beyond them. The house was lavish - or at least it was, once. 13 years ago, even. Iann whistled lowly. "What were your folks doing getting bailed out by a guy as well-to-do as this?" Iann murmured. "Whatever relationship they had, they were clearly on the receiving end." Iann honestly didn't know too many selkies who were, well, wealthy. Not in a landfolk definition anyway. No selkie corporate fatcats or selkie families in Jamara, unless they won the lottery or something (and then their estates were generally eccentric and oceanic). "Do you think...do you think your folks...lived here? Watch the floor, don't fall through." He headed to the staircase, testing a couple of the stairs, and they seemed sturdy enough for his weight. "Whatever we do, let's not split up, hm? Maya, see if you can find a concentration of magical residue in the house? And River..." Iann motioned to some old knick knacks in the old living room. "Maybe there's photos in there, something that you might, ahhh recognize. Do you know what, ah. What your bio-parents looked like?"

At Iann's first question, River's stomach balled up all over again. It's almost as if she'd been so focused on finding Calloway that she'd forgotten about her parents. Focused on the next step and not the end goal. "The basement sounds like a good idea," She headed down the hallway back to the kitchen, and about halfway there, almost directly under the stairs, was a large oak door that probably weighed more than she did. She reached for the knob and pulled, but it wouldn't budge. A latch with padlock held the door in place, but grabbing the lock to examine it, she realized it had no keyhole and no combination dial. "Uh, maybe we'll come back to this." She walked back out into the foyer. "Yeah, I've seen a couple pictures." Each of her siblings had been sent away with one. All except her. "Let's check out the living room," she suggested, walking into a space that felt more like the size of a mini ballroom. She started shining her light on the knick knacks on the mantle, most of them tiger themed.

Maya listened to Iann speculate as she looked around. It did seem the house had been abandoned for awhile. Dust had settled on nearly every available surface. She followed River as the selkie went through the kitchen. There River found a door without an obvious way in, no keyhole or combination dial. Maya ignored River's suggestion that they check the living room. A lock like this meant something was behind it. Closing her eyes Maya thought of what Faye had said. She had something like the power of suggestion and maybe she could suggest to the lock that it opened. To that end she also gave it a sharp thwack with the butt of her pocketknife. It bust open. "I don't about y'all, but I'm going to check behind door number two."

Iann lingered between the two women, as River headed into the living room and Maya remained near the mysterious door. He shifted back and forth on his feet, looking between the selkie and the witch as they did their thing. "Don't go alone!" Iann hissed at Maya. "What'd I just say about not splitting up?" He shined his flashlight towards River, raising an eyebrow at the rather garish tiger-based knick-knacks. "What the hell's up with those tigers? River? Both of you better keep talking at me or else I swear to fucking god."

River heard the padlock clatter to the floor in the hallway and abandoned the gaudy tigers to rush back to Maya. The padlock was laying on the hardwood and the large door to the basement had swung open. "You broke the lock? Sweet!" But as she approached, she and Maya were kicked back by a force punch to the gut, knocking both of them on their asses as the door swung shut violently.

Maya felt something, magical, knock her and River back on their asses. She stood, eyeing the door suspiciously. "Rude," she said, "But there's definitely something down there." For at least the moment it didn't seem to want to let them in though. She glared at it for another moment as if that would scare it into opening for them. Turning back to the other two she asked, "Someone said something about tigers?"

"Unbelievable," Iann muttered, once his shock and alarm receded. It seemed that despite the violent rebuke from the basement's door, the two young women were alright. Still, Iann bent forward to not really help River up but just sort of brush the dust off her jacket like he was a fussy Auntie. "If it shut itself then it can be opened. Just has to be opened the right way....and I'm beginning to think this house is just one big puzzle." And it was waiting for you, Iann wanted to say to River, but he didn't. Maybe not River specifically, but someone. Someone who knew there was a mystery in this house that needed to be solved. Iann was just glad that it seemed to be River. That so far, he hadn't noticed any evidence of other people breaking into the house to do some snooping, other than the bored teenagers looking to vandalize, of course. "What'd you find in the living room, Kansas?"

River took a moment to get to her feet after being knocked back, coughing a little bit at the dust kicked up in the flurry. Getting to her feet, she brushed past Iann and pushed on the basement door. It wouldn't budge. "Fuck," she hissed, giving the door a curt kick with her boot. She turned around, running frustrated fingers through her hair, and sighed. "Uh, yeah, tigers. Living room." She marched out of the hallway and toward the gaudy tigers again. They were carved out of marble. The more she looked around, the more she noticed the motif all around the place. "What's with this guy and tigers?" she asked aloud while searching around some more, finally finding an end table and opening the drawer. Inside was a bit of junk. Notepads, pens, nail clippers. But there was also a tattered envelope, filled to bursting with what looked like pictures. She picked it up and pulled the first one out. When she laid eyes on the faces, her chest tightened. “This is…” It was all of them. Leeman Calloway. Her parents. Her adoptive mother. Pictured with a bunch of other people, all smiles and laughter as they posed for the camera. Next picture. Her dad kissing her mom on the cheek. Next picture. Calloway with his arm around her adoptive mom. It was really them. It seemed all the pictures were of the same night. A tear dropped from her eye and landed on her mother’s face, distorting the ink as the old photo paper wrinkled a little with the moisture. She hadn’t even realized she’d started to cry.

Maya followed Iann and River. After all this wasn't her show. She kept looking over her shoulder for danger, for someone or something to stop them from investigating. Evidently the house had a plan for them. Glancing over at River Maya noticed her crying. "You okay dude?" she asked, hesitantly stepping forward. She didn't want to give a hug that River didn't want, but did seem like the selkie needed a hug.

"Maybe he's some sort of shape-shifter...like selkies only. Uh." Well honestly Iann had never actually found any proof about shapeshifters who weren't either werewolves or selkies, but. Anything was possible, right? He poked around as well, only looking behind him at the other two when he heard Maya ask if River was okay. "Wha..." Iann came over, looking over River's shoulder at the photos. He reached down and plucked the ones River had already looked at from her hands, squinting at them. "You recognize them? Who are they? These ones..." Iann touched his fingers along the faces that looked familiar, if only in the way they held a resemblance to River herself.

River nodded quickly, sniffling and wiping away some tears when Maya approached her. “Yeah, I’m okay…” Then Iann came over and took some of the photos. “That’s my parents,” she said, pointing them out in the photo. “And that’s Calloway right there. I recognize him from the sheriff’s computer.” She took a deep breath before pointing at a fourth face. “And that’s my adoptive mom.” She handed over some of the photos to Maya too, so she could see, and quickly flicked through the rest of the ones in her own hand. “But I don’t see anything that’s gonna help us in these,” she said quickly with another sniffle. Her tone was curt. Dismissive. Somewhat defeated. “We should try another room. Maybe upstairs?"

Maya took the photos when they were offered to her. It didn't escape her notice that River had avoided her question. She let it happen though, not wanting to prod an already open wound. "Yeah upstairs," she agreed and headed for the stairs. She climbed them carefully, waiting for the stairs to turn into a slide or some other ridiculous booby trap. Instead she was delivered safely to the second floor. Trying the first door on the left Maya found it locked. "Hey, Iann you got a lockpick?" she asked. She could probably suggest to the lock that it open with her magic, but she'd rather keep something in reserve in case they met something more menacing than a locked door.

"Adoptive mom?" Iann said in surprise, lingering in specific at the photo of Calloway with her adopt-o-mom. Everyone in the photos definitely seemed happy. If not good buddies and pals, then maybe good co-workers. But co-workers in what? Here Iann had been assuming that Calloway was the 'big bad' behind River's parents deaths, but now he was reluctantly wondering otherwise. It'd be much simpler if he was bad and they were good, but. Simple wasn't life, was it? If River didn't keep a hold of the photos, Iann pocketed them himself and followed the pair up the stairs carefully. Each stair groaned under his weight, but he tread lightly. One hallway, which allowed Iann to glance into a couple of the other rooms, but he didn't see anything at a glance. He returned to where Maya was with the locked door, his eyebrow raised. "No busting it open?" he asked, pulling out the kit from his other pocket and unrolling it. Crouching down, Iann stuck the tools between his lips, using them when needed to try and pick the lock. He heard a click and Iann turned and looked up at River as he carefully twisted the knob open.

As the newly unlocked door swung open, River’s heart started to pound. All these locked doors meant something had to be hidden here, and she was starting to dread what that might be. She stepped forward and through the doorway into a medium sided bedroom, completely devoid of any furniture. Just moonbeams streaming through the window to hit the hardwood. But when she swung her flashlight up to get a better look, she spotted a small table in the corner littered with tiny objects. She approached it carefully, finding sigils she didn’t recognized, shaped onto the table with sea salt. Scattered around it were pearls, shells, and rocks. “Do you guys know what this is? Some sort of…ritual or something?” she asked, turning back toward Iann and Maya.

Maya shrugged, "Figured I should save the magic in case we like run into a ghost or Frankenstein or something." She stepped out of the way allowing Iann to pick the lock. To her mind the fact that the house was leading them to locked rooms seemed odd. Wouldn't it be better to slowly swing open a door? After all they might not have a lock picking kit. Or maybe the house figured a locked door would pique their interest. Following River into the room she looked around at the various ocean-adjacent objects and the sigils. Mostly she was familiar with her own magic, but this felt vaguely magical. It wasn't as strong as the illusion making the house appear well kempt. "Whatever it is it seems amateur as fuck," she said with a shrug.

Iann looked around first, before coming over to the strange little ritual altar on the table. No bed, no living went on here. Just this ritual table. "Calloway was a witch?" Iann couldn't remember if River mentioned that or not. He wanted to pick up the little tidbits to get a better look and feel, but resisted the urge. "The sigils aren't familiar to me but...I don't know much about, ah, magic related to seafolk," Iann said regretfully. "And whatever this is, it was either meant to impress someone who didn't know any better, or an attempt at a very specific sort of spell. I can't believe the salt stayed...like this. Lovely..." Iann murmured, dying to touch it.

River nodded. "Yeah, I told you he was a witch," she said. She took note of Maya's observation. That the set up looked amateur. She didn't know what that meant in the grand scheme of things. Or what this whole spell set up was even for. Did it have some deeper meaning, or was he charming his laundry done? There was no way of knowing and River hated this. They were only finding more questions, no answers, and she was getting impatient. Her annoyance was obvious on her face, she was sure. She always had a hard time hiding her emotions. "There has to be something else in here," she said, tearing across the room to a closet. She pulled it open. Empty. She darted out of the room, leaving Iann and Maya behind, and started to search the others on the floor frantically, all almost equally as barren. When she returned to the hallway empty handed, she let out a frustrated, ragged breath.

Maya continued to look around. Her eyes looked for something out of the ordinary. Perhaps a clean spot where there ought to be dust. She didn't know much about magic related to sea creatures either and had to rely on her more human senses. Iann's words that the salt had stayed put caught her attention. "Here," she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture, "We can look these up later, see if we can't figure out what they mean." As she said it River, for lack of a better term, freaked out. River scampered around, opening and slamming doors. Maya moved to the doorway to watch her. "I still bet there's something in the basement, although how we're going to get in I'm not sure," she said keeping her voice and demeanor calm

Iann had the luxury of not being particularly affected by any of this; after all it wasn't his family, his danger. He made a grunt of appreciation when Maya thought to take photos of those strange salt sigils with her phone, then followed River back out into the hallway. "River..." he started to say, but his next words were swallowed up by a sharp intake of breath. "Did - did you hear -" Iann fell silent again, when the creaky hinge noise was even louder this time. And it was coming from downstairs. Leaning over the banister, Iann craned his head as he looked down and then he looked back at River. "That basement door's open again. Maybe this time?" Maybe it was time. He headed down, reaching the open door and touching it gingerly. It didn't slam shut, and just opened even more, but not exactly inviting. Iann shone his flashlight down, but he couldn't see the end of the stairs. "Those stairs don't look particularly sturdy."

River started to try to calm herself, taking deep breaths as she stood in the middle of the hallway. She could feel a panic attack threatening her, and she was doing her best to stave it off. Maya's calming tone was helping. But her heart got pounding again when she heard the creaking of hinges downstairs. She wordlessly followed Iann down the stairs to the basement door. He touched it and it didn't slam shut, but her approaching would be the ultimate test. And when she did...nothing. The door stayed open and the creepy basement invited them to come down. She desperately wanted to run down there, but stopped herself. "This feels like a trap, right?..."

Maya's head turned at Iann's question. She had dismissed the noise as the settling of the house. Following the other two downstairs she saw the basement door was open. Apperently the house had decided they were worthy of seeing what was down there. When Iann touched it the door didn't slam or throw him backwards "I mean I'm assuming all of this is a trap," she said, "But I can go down first." Shining her flashlight down the stairs she moved cautiously. The third to last step snapped underneath her. She barely managed to catch herself with the wall and managed to drop her flashlight into the hole in the process. "Aw fuck, can I get some light down here?" she shouted back up the stairs.

"Oh - oh! I gotcha, I got --" Iann slapped at his jacket for a moment, until he pulled out a little glob of what looked like blue plasticine. He pressed his thumbs into it and then lobbed it down the stairs where the bioluminescent thing glowed brighter and gave Maya and the stairs an eerie but visible illumination.

As River saw Maya almost fall into the snapped stair, she didn't wait for Iann to throw his glowing stone down to her. She took off down the stairs, hearing them groan under the quick movement. Once she reached Maya, she reached out to help her up. "Way to take one for the team," she teased, her tone forced. She was trying to stop herself from freaking out again. Stepping over the stair, she stepped onto the basement floor carefully, and when she did, the room lit up like a Christmas tree. Not from any sort of electricity. No, little orbs of light hung in the air near the ceiling. The basement was painted white concrete, pristine compared to the rest of the dilapidated house. Eerily so. And unlike the rest of the house, there was no clutter. No junk. Just a display case on a pedestal with a gold object inside that she couldn't quite make out from how far away she was. "Well that's not creepy at all..."

Once she was on solid stair again Maya rotated her ankle, making sure it wasn't sprained. It felt fine. Her attention was quickly grabbed by the small blob of light Iann tossed down the stairs at them. Shaking off River's worry she replied, "Don't worry about me. I'm fine. And Iann later you're going to have to tell me about that little blob thing." For now though there was a task at hand. Maya followed River into the basement proper. It was too clean, too white. The whole set up set off alarm bells in her head. "See I want to take it and get the fuck out of here, but I've also seen Raiders of the Lost Ark," she said, stepping forward to inspect the pedestal for any sort of booby traps.

"Well someone's going to have to take a closer look at it," Iann said approaching the pedestal. "It wanted to be found...but only after we saw that shrine thing first. And the photos, maybe." Iann looked at River. "This is the payload, and you came here for answers."

River approached the pedestal slowly. Inside was what looked like a pocket watch on a stand. It was delicate. Intricate in design. Looked extremely expensive. "Maya's right, I can't just...." she started, making an exaggerated grabbing gesture. But what if she could? He was right, the house had guided them down here. Gingerly, she pressed her fingertips to both sides of the glass case, tilting it back on a hinge so the pocket watch was exposed. She reached out to grab the watch slowly, but hesitated. “If something happens, y’all better run,” she said, before wrapping her fingers around the golden watch. When she did, her vision whited out. It felt like electricity was coursing up her arm and through her body. Her head flew back, sending her reeling to the ground, and she started to convulse. Her mind was ablaze, flashes of different colored lights, faces, objects. Everything passed too quickly for her to recognize, blurring together in a flurry of painful passes.

Maya wouldn't be surprised if the house allowed River to take whatever this gold pocket watch like artifact and only River. The question was quickly answered as a hard no though. "Holy fuck," she said, but refrained from grabbing River. Contact with her might just injure Maya was well. When it was over she stepped forward carefully, "River, can you hear me?" Her focus narrowed first to making sure River was okay. They could worry about how to better investigate the object after that was settled

In truth, Iann wanted to see what would happen. The convulsions were disturbing definitely - but Iann felt confident that any physical ramifications didn't compare to whatever River might be experiencing...emotionally? Mentally? Psychologically? It took precedent, and he was glad that Maya didn't try to touch the selkie but tried getting a response from River nevertheless. "We'll - if she doesn't change, then we'll take her out of here," Iann said to Maya.

The flashes…they finally faded, and the bright white ceiling of the basement came back into view. River’s eyes were dry, the back of her head hurt, and her body ached all over. She heard Maya’s voice and her eyes flicked over to the witch’s concerned face. “Yeah,” She sat up slowly, looking down at her hands to see the pocket watch gripped in her fist. She opened her hand to find it undamaged. Reaching up to touch the back of her head, she came back with red fingertips, twisting around to see a little red stain of her blood on the white floor. “Shit, what happened?”

Maya sighed in relief when River spoke. She was a little worse for wear it seemed, but not dead or unconscious which was a plus. "Not entirely sure, but I would put that in like a handkerchief or a sock or something before it tries to electrocute you again," she replied. This was probably their cue to get out of here. Any further investigation could be done near a first aid kit. "And we should probably head out too since this house seems to have showed us whatever it wants to show us."

"What happened? What the hell happened to you??" Iann replied to River's question. When he saw the blood on her fingers, Iann came around to eye the blood on the floor. They should leave, but...it wasn't a good idea to leave one's blood on a witch's floor, even if buddy was long dead. "Ah - you two go on? I'm - I'm gonna just clean this up first." Iann was sure Maya would be able to get River out fine, make sure she didn't have a concussion or anything.

"I don't really remember." Taking Maya's advice, River slipped her boot off and took off her sock, dropping the pocket watch into it and shoving it into her jacket pocket. Then she slipped her boot back on and carefully got to her feet. “I didn’t really black out. I sort of….whited out? But it didn’t really show me anything.” What the fuck did this house want from her? Ugh. Every movement hurt as she leaned on Maya for support.

Maya accepted River's weight easily. She glanced down at Iann was cleaning River's blood off the floor. "Okay," she said, "We'll meet you outside." She trusted Iann to clean up. Careful to be gentle Maya helped River up the stairs. Once they were outside she sat River down on the steps of her RV. "Okay, can you tell me your name and the date?" she asked, inspecting River's pupils for dilation. "And if I can have your wrist I want to check your pulse, just in case."

It seemed like whatever happened, the strange timepiece that River took out of the house was like removing the heart of the house. It wasn't like Iann could sense magic himself, but there was a thrum that just seemed to fade. The house became a house, nothing more. Iann felt it was safe then, to dart out of the house to his van, grabbing some enzyme cleaner and other supplies to rid River's blood from the site. Even if the house wasn't imbued any longer, others could still come in here and make use of it with the right skills. And considering River was being hunted down, better safe than sorry. He went up the to ritual alter then as well, nabbing a shell. Just one. No harm in that.

River took a deep breath. “River Iris Philips. It’s January 17th.” She offered her arm to Maya. “I swear I’m fine,” she insisted. She watched as Iann came out of the house after cleaning up the blood. “Thank you guys for coming with me. Seriously.”

No sign of a concussion. River's pulse seemed fine as well. Maya wasn't entirely satisfied, but there didn't seem to be any immediate physical danger. Of course that left plenty of room for potential mental or emotional danger. "Totally dude. And call me if you need anything else yeah?" Maya replied.

River stared at the house again, back to its illusionary self now that they were outside of the barrier. Reaching her hand into her jacket pocket, she gripped the socked watch to make sure what had just happened was real. In her other pocket were the pictures. They hadn’t gotten any clear clues. No smoking guns. No obvious answers. But she was used to this. She often had little to work with when she was trying to find her siblings in the past and had managed. They hadn’t found any sort of map pointing to her parents like she’d hoped, but they’d found a thread to follow, and that was good enough for now.

[intoxicatedeuphoria]

Day 1: Chess (Royai Week 2017)

NECESSARY EVIL

She would be the queen who would make him king.

Roy Mustang fiddled with his silver pocket watch nervously. His lieutenant – no, it’s captain now – was late.

Fifteen minutes late to be exact.

Riza Hawkeye was never late…

…unless something happened to her.

The door opened with a creak, and the newly promoted brigadier general almost jumped out of his seat.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” the blonde woman began, entering the room with her beloved dog, “but Hayate’s leash broke on our way here, and since the pet supplies store was on the way, I decided to drop by before coming here. I apologize for not calling.”

Roy released a sigh of relief. “It’s alright, lieu – err, captain,” he fumbled awkwardly. “Sorry, I’m still not used to your new rank.”

“It’s the same for me, sir,” she admitted with a slightest hint of a smile.

He sat up straight and motioned for her to take a seat. “Well, let’s get to business then, shall we?”

She settled on the armchair across his, while Black Hayate laid down by her feet.

She inhaled deeply, as if preparing herself for the worst.

“Col—“ she shook her head, then tried again. “Brigadier General Mustang, may I have your permission to speak freely?” she requested weakly, so unlike her.

He nodded.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but…” Her right hand grabbed the arm of the chair tightly and continued. “I’m afraid I cannot watch your back anymore in the near future.”

Nothing could have prepared him for her declaration.

He froze in his seat, his breath caught in his throat.

For a minute or so, his mind went utterly blank.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded harshly. It was all he could say after recovering a part of his wit.

“Please don’t get me wrong,” she said steadily even when her hands shook as she placed them on her lap. “I’m not abandoning you, sir. I just found a better way to help you reach the top, that’s all.

Their eyes met, and hers were filled with equal parts of desperation and dread. He could only guess at how his looked like. He was a convoluted mess of emotions, and panic was slowly taking over his entire being.

“Do you trust me?” she asked, her voice so gentle that it calmed him down considerably, but not completely.

He kept his gaze on her as he replied. “With my life.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his confession, and he added as an afterthought, “…and everything in it.”

It took her a second longer to recover.  A sigh escaped her lips, then her explanation came afterwards. “Please believe me when I say I’m doing this for your – no, for our goal. Right now, I’m still working on the details, but I promise you, everything will be worth it.”

No, not everything. I can’t lose you. Roy screamed inside his head.

He tried to reign in his feelings, but he was failing miserably.

“What is this really about, Riza?” His voice was loud, but trembling.

Her eyes widened once again, but she regained herself in a blink of an eye.

Slowly, the corners of her mouth lifted as she countered carefully, “Which chess piece do you think is the strongest, sir?”

“Definitely the Queen,” he responded in a heartbeat with an intense gaze directed at her.

The direction of their conversation bewildered him, but he decided to indulge her. After all, Riza Hawkeye was a woman of purpose. There must be a point in all of this. There had to be or he would lose his mind from the confusion.

“…and when is she most powerful?” she resumed her questioning as she crossed her arms.

“When she’s moving across the board,” he stated mindlessly.

“Precisely.” A proud grin took over her countenance.

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you getting at?”

She ignored his question and started speaking instead, “The Queen is useless when she’s always next to the King. She, out of all the other pieces, has the greatest chance of leading the King towards victory.”

Roy tilted his head to the side. He already knew all of this, so why–

“One last question, sir,” she declared suddenly, effectively interrupting his musing. “Who is more powerful than the Queen?”

He scratched his chin before he voiced out, “Isn’t it the King?”

“Don’t you think he’s the weakest one of them all, sir? After all, he’s the main target, but can only move one square at a time.” She reasoned out evenly.

He let out a displeased grunt.

Riza chuckled softly at his undisguised dismay. She knew how much he adored the chess metaphor, and here she was, insulting the King who was supposed to be him.

“Fine,” he acquiesced, letting her have her fun. “Then pray tell, my fair lady, who is more powerful than the Queen in the game of chess?”

She regained her composure, then captured his gaze once more.

“The person who moves the pieces across the board.”

Her answer floored him, and all of a sudden, everything fell into place in his mind.

Riza watched as his eyes lit up in comprehension. He might not know what the actual plan was, but at least he had some idea who the players involved might be.

In about two years’ time, Führer Grumman, her maternal grandfather, would set the stage for her, and she planned to take the country by storm as the First Granddaughter. If everything went according to their plan, she would become the de facto First Lady of Amestris since she was the one – and only, he assured her – woman in the führer’s life.

By doing so, Riza believed that she could pave the way to the top for him.

It was a brilliant idea, really. She came up with it after reflecting on the events that led to the Promised Day.

It was her conversation with King Bradley, in particular, that prompted her to come up with this plan. She knew that the homunculi got away with what they had done for centuries because they were good at manipulating the perception of humans – of the masses, in the case of Wrath. They eventually stopped the homunculi’s plot and brought down the Bradley regime, but the system – as well as the institutions associated with it –  that Father and his homunculi had established remained.

And then one day, Riza realized that the only way to beat it was to join it.

It was high time they started playing politics.

In the end, politics was simply another game involving cunning moves and great sacrifices.

She finally understood why her grandfather insisted on playing chess with Roy. He was preparing his favorite protégé for what was in store for him the closer he got to the top.

This time around, she refused to become a passive piece.

She would lead him to victory and would do so in a way only she could.

She would be the Queen who would make him the King.

HAPPY ROYAI WEEK~!!

Soo... it’s a little rough around the edges since I was cramming so much a bit. It’s supposed to be the prologue for a multichapter fic entitled Playing Politics, which I was planning to work on maybe never eventually. I’m still deliberating whether to write the rest of it because I would have to ignore Roy and Riza’s epilogue photo (where he’s a general without the ‘stache please and she has short hair) for this story to make sense. Going against canon breaks my heart, but the canon is breaking my heart, too!! T__T

[runawaywidow]

The Uber drivers were plentiful, but not always well marked.  The friendly fellow working in the median near the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg helped us find a black car.  The driver quoted us a fair price to our desired location and we all hopped in.  He took us safely to our location and advised us that we would be safe if we stayed on the main block in Maboneng Precinct.  We paid him and thanked him, and imagined how shocked our husbands would be over our inhibitions!

When the four of us from our book club decided to travel to Africa to go on safari, we wanted to make the most of the trip.  We googled, pinned blogs and borrowed library books about Africa.  After several dinner meetings, and communications with a travel agent, our itinerary was settled.

Two nights in Johannesburg.  Six nights on safari and 3 nights in Capetown.

We flew from New York to Johannesburg on British Airlines with a 2 hour layover in London.  The long flight in coach was bearable with friends, and movies and wine and my butt pillow.  Really, the butt pillow was key on this trip.  We tried to sleep a little on the 11 hour flight from London to Johannesburg.  We had a busy day ahead of us.

We arrived in the morning and were met by our driver that had been arranged in advance by our travel agent.  Some people avoid visiting Jo’burg due to poverty and crime.  We avoided those areas and did not go out late at night and were just fine.  Should you visit Johannesburg? YES!

Our driver took us to The Winston Hotel in Melrose Estate, Johannesburg.  A small boutique style hotel with a pool, bar and restaurant.  The service was friendly and although the rooms weren’t ready, we enjoyed lunch by the pool upon arrival and soon checked into the spacious rooms.

Our hotel called for a taxi to take us to the Apartheid museum   We felt being in South Africa we should get some background information on the history of the country.  Apartheid was designed to segregate people of different races: white, black colored (mix of black and white) and Asian. Upon entering the museum, you must enter through a randomly generated admission ticket: white or non-white.  It gives you a sense of the era.

After our visit we were stumped with how to get to the next place.  One of us had the Uber app but cell service was not so good, the sun was setting and we needed help.  The friendly valet hailed us a ride to Maboneng Precinct where we enjoyed strolling the street looking at hand made crafts. We dined in a crowded restaurant featuring live music and African cuisine called Pata Pata. After dinner, the restaurant manager called an Uber for us and went out to the street to talk to our driver to be sure we made it back to our hotel safely.  We felt safe and full of adventure after our first day in Africa.

Our car was waiting in the hotel parking lot at 4:30 am.  The hotel packed us breakfast for the ride as we started our hour journey to Bill Harrop’s Original Balloon Safari.  Three balloon were impressively inflated and we climbed into a basket holding 12 adults.  We took amazing photos and were awed by the quiet being thousands of feet about the ground.  Upon landing we toasted with a champagne breakfast.

Our private car was waiting after the flight and took us to the nearby Cradle of Humankind.  We took a guided tour of the Sterkfontein Caves were the discovery of a 2.3 million year old human fossil (Mrs. Ples) was found in 1947.  The museum detailed archaeological developments throughout history. After we had our fill of history, our driver took us back to the hotel where we spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing poolside and enjoying dinner at the on site restaurant.

Day 3 the Uber driver picked us up early and we headed to the airport for a flight to Durban King Shaka International airport.  The one hour flight is relatively inexpensive with over 150 flights from Jo’burg per day.  Our flight was uneventful and we were met by a van from the Zulu Nyala Heritage Safari Lodge where we planned to spend the next 6 nights.

We arrived after the 3:00 safari had already left so we were unable to take a drive on the first day.  The property was pleasantly designed with 2 outdoor pools, a large restaurant, spacious rooms with updated bathrooms, a lobby with WiFi, a shop and even a Zulu Cultural Village with daily tribal reenactments.

Day 4 in Africa we started with a 6:00 am drive to the nearby fenced in Zulu Nyala Game Reserve.  The reserve is small at seven square miles.  It has 4 of the big 5 – Leopard, rhino, elephant and cape buffalo – no lions but we did see a very relaxed cheetah.  Our guide planned to be with the 4 of us and 6 other guests for each drive during the week. He let us know about different excursions available and we made arrangements to take advantage of those as well.

Each day we had a morning and late afternoon safari drive. Our guide would communicate with the other trucks who were also in the reserve and bring us to the areas where animals had been sighted.  We saw giraffes walking beside our truck at sunrise, hippos swimming in a waterhole, a cheetah sunning herself on the road, elephants drinking from the river, cape buffalo and a variety of deer.

We planned a visit to a nearby residence to have a close encounter with 2 beautiful, tame older elephants.  They had been orphaned and hand reared and now wandered free at this private reserve.  They seemed to enjoy visiting with us as we fed them and posed for photos during our visit.

Another afternoon we took advantage of a different game park that had lions.  We were in for a thrill when our tour guide brought the truck not 10 feet away from 2 lionesses and 2 cubs lounging in the sun.  We watched for over an hour as the cubs nursed, napped, played and then mom pounced but missed a clueless warthog who wandered too close to the family. Lion Safari in South Africa

Not being ones to lounge around on this trip, we decided to head to the Indian Ocean with our guide one day.  Feet in the ocean is always a fun goal on any trip!  Our excursion this day also included a boat ride on the St. Lucia River to see hippos, birds and crocodiles.  We had lunch in a little beach town that warned people of hippo crossings – the most dangerous animals in Africa that cause more deaths than any other animal.

Our time on safari ended too soon but we had one more exciting part of our journey to go: Capetown.

The people at Zulu Nyala Heritage Safari Lodge arranged for our transportation back to Durban for our two hour flight to Capetown.  Upon arrival taxis were available, however our travel agent had once again booked a car service for us to our hotel.  We had researched hotels and decided that The Portswood Hotel near the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront would best suit our needs.

We settled into our hotel rooms then quickly took an Uber to Table Mountain.  The cable car is accessible from the bottom in town and brings a group of about 60 up to the top.  The views were amazing and we stayed to watch the sunsetting.  One of the best sunsets ever.

We called for another Uber back to our hotel, freshened up and walked over to the lively waterfront area.  Lots of shops, restaurants and tourists walked happily beside the ferris wheel, street musicians and boats along the harbor.  We had arranged with a native South African who had visited the States to give us a private tour during our time in Capetown.  We met him during our breakfast, which of course was included with the hotel room as had been every morning of our trip so far.

We packed a bag and piled into his car for our wine tasting tour day which started at a local farm.  Then onto the Stellenbosch vineyards and some sight seeing at Boland Mountain Complex Park.  Dinner that night was at the hotel and we turned in early.

Day 11 we met at breakfast and started our trip down the coast of Capetown.  We went as far south as we could get at the Cape Point National Park. We drove past a wild ostrich and then onto Boulders Beach where we walked along a board walk and saw then happy little penguins on the beach. After a lovely lunch at Fish Hoek in Kalk Bay where we saw seals and sea lions on the dock we headed to Muizenberg to see the surfers and the colorful beach cabanas.

Our day trip was amazing as always and we felt the urge to shop and bring home souvenirs that evening.  Plenty of shops had stuff to buy right there at the waterfront (although we could have gotten the same thing if we waited until we got to the airport)

The last day, we had an afternoon flight.  Our tour guide picked us up after breakfast and took us through the colorful streets in town called Bo-Kaap. After taking a few fun photos, we drove up Signal Hill to see Table Mountain from another angle as well as Robben Island where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for 18 years.  After that we went to the beautiful Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden where we ate lunch and saw the most interesting flowers and birds.

Each day of our visit we were more in awe of what we experienced.  From the people we met, to the animals we saw to the places we visited it was indeed the trip of a life time.  Some of the trip was done with our own research.  Some was supported with the help of our wonderful travel agent, Rosemary Martinek.  Some was provided by the safari we went on.  Some with a little help from a friend.

If it is on your bucket list, do it.  You will not be disappointed!   amzn_assoc_placement = "adunit0"; amzn_assoc_search_bar = "true"; amzn_assoc_tracking_id = "runawaywidow-20"; amzn_assoc_ad_mode = "manual"; amzn_assoc_ad_type = "smart"; amzn_assoc_marketplace = "amazon"; amzn_assoc_region = "US"; amzn_assoc_title = "My Amazon Picks"; amzn_assoc_linkid = "4855e4af5258f3292f5186fb8dfc125c"; amzn_assoc_asins = "B01AITOZSA,B07CVG467T,B07RXW9J75,1492620599";

Best 12 days in South Africa without renting a car The Uber drivers were plentiful, but not always well marked.  The friendly fellow working in the median near the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg helped us find a black car. 

[relationshipadviser-blog]

Bail reforms complex relationship with tech

New Post has been published on https://relationshipqia.com/must-see/bail-reforms-complex-relationship-with-tech/

Bail reforms complex relationship with tech

On any given day in the United States, more than 450,000 people are behind bars awaiting their constitutionally mandated fair trial. None of them have been convicted of a crime — they’ve been accused of committing a crime, but no formal ruling of guilt or innocence has been made. That means these hundreds of thousands of people are incarcerated simply because they don’t have the financial means to post bail. 

Bail was originally designed to incentivize people to show up for their court dates, but it has since evolved into a system that separates the financially well-off from the poor. It requires arrested individuals to pay money in order to get out of jail while they await trial. For those who can’t afford bail, they wind up having to sit in jail, which means they may be at risk of missing rent payments, losing their jobs and failing to meet other responsibilities. 

Money bail is all too often a common condition to secure release from jail while a case is in progress. Cash bail systems result in leaving many people incarcerated, even though they haven’t been convicted of a crime. 

The cash bail system in the United States is one of the greatest injustices in the criminal justice system, ACLU Deputy National Political Director Udi Ofer tells TechCrunch. Bail reform, Ofer says, is a “key way to achieve” the goals of challenging racial disparities in the criminal justice system and ending mass incarceration. 

As we explored in “The other pipeline,” the criminal justice system in the United States is deeply rooted in racism and a history of oppression. Black and Latino people comprise about 1.5 million of the total 2.2 million people incarcerated in the U.S. adult correctional system, or 67 percent of the prison population, while making up just 37 percent of the total U.S. population, according to the Sentencing Project.

With a criminal justice system that disproportionately affects people of color, it’s no wonder the cash bail system does the same. For one, people of color are 25 percent more likely than white people to be denied the option of bail, according to a pre-trial study by Dr. Traci Schlesinger. And for the black people who are given the option to pay bail, the amount is 35 percent higher on average than bail for white men, according to a 2010 study.

The national felony bail median is $10,000. For those who can’t afford it, they have to rely on bail bond agencies, which charge a non-refundable fee to pay the required bail amount on the person’s behalf. The bail bond companies, which are backed by insurance companies, collect between $1.4 billion and $2.4 billion a year, according to the ACLU and Color of Change.

Source: ACLU/Color of Change

And if bail bond companies are out of reach, those who are sitting in jail awaiting trial are more likely to be convicted of the crime they were charged with. The non-felony conviction rate rose from 50 percent to 92 percent for those jailed pre-trial, according to a study by the New York City Criminal Justice Agency. Along the way, leading up to the trial, some prosecutors incentivize people to plead guilty to the charges even if they’re innocent.

“It’s time to end our nation’s system of cash bail that lets the size of your wallet determine whether you are granted freedom or stay locked up in jail,” Ofer says. “Money should never decide a person’s freedom yet that’s exactly what happens every day in the United States.”

Pre-trial detention is also costly to local cities, counties and taxpayers. It costs about $38 million a day to keep these largely nonviolent people behind bars, according to the Pretrial Justice Institute. Annually, that comes out to about $14 billion to jail unconvicted people.

“The only people benefiting from bail is the for-profit bail industry,” Ofer said. “If we’re ever going to end mass incarceration in the United States, then we need to end cash bail.”

Bail reform is coming

Across the nation, bail reform has made its way into a handful of states. New Jersey’s bail reform law took effect last January; since then, its daily jail population has dropped 17.2 percent, and courts have imposed cash bail on just 33 defendants out of 33,400, according to the ACLU.

The ACLU itself is working on bail reform in 38 states, including California, where Ofer says he is optimistic reform will happen this year. Right now, a pre-trial release bill, Senate Bill 10, is up for consideration in the Assembly. The bill argues California should ensure people awaiting trial are not incarcerated simply because they can’t afford to pay bail. The bill also advocates for counties to establish pre-trial services agencies to better determine if people are fit to be released.

The bill, introduced by Senators Bob Hertzberg and others, is backed by the ACLU and Essie Justice Group, an Oakland-based organization that advocates for actual justice in the criminal justice system.

“Today we have a system that allows for people to be released pre-trial if they have enough money to afford their bail,” Essie Justice Group founder Gina Clayton tells TechCrunch. “Everyone else is required to sit inside of a cage without any way out.”

Essie Justice Group works mostly with and for women who have incarcerated loved ones. Often, the only way out for people is help from family or a plea deal, Clayton says.

“When we see people making the bail, we see that women are going into tremendous debt and are also beholden to an industry that has time and time again been cited and known to practice in quite an incredibly despicable way in terms of coercing and harassing their customers,” Clayton says. “When we think about who are the people who know about what’s going on with bail, it’s black and brown women in this country.”

For the past two years, Essie Justice Group held an action around Mother’s Day, with the goal of bailing moms out of jail or immigration detention. Last year’s action led to the release of 30 women.

Photo via Essie Justice Group

Can tech help?

The short the answer is maybe. Earlier this month, Google banned ads for bail bond services, which Clayton says is the largest step any corporation has taken on behalf of people who have loved ones in jail. But while tech can help in some ways, Clayton has some concerns with additional for-profit entities entering the criminal justice system.

“There are definitely tech solutions that I’m very against,” Clayton said, but declined to comment on which ones in particular. “I will say that my energy around this doesn’t come from an imagined place. I’m seeing it happen. One of the things we’re seeing is companies who are interested in bail reform because they see another opportunity to make money off of families. Like, ‘let this person out, but have them, at a cost, check in with people I hire to do this fancy but expensive drug testing three times a week, pay for an ankle shackle or bracelet and GPS monitoring.’ I think the companies that are making money off of those types of things are the ones we need to be wary of.”

There is, however, one for-profit company that immediately jumped to Clayton’s mind as being one doing actual good in the criminal justice space. That company is Uptrust, which provides text message reminders to people regarding court dates.

“I think that is a really great addition to the landscape,” Clayton says. “The reason I’m a proponent of theirs is because I understand their politics and I know what they won’t do, which is take it a step further or get involved with getting incentivized to add on bells and whistles that look less like freedom for people but more revenue for them.”

Uptrust, founded by Jacob Sills and Elijah Gwynn, aims to help people make their court dates. While the movies like to depict flight risks and people skipping town ahead of their court dates, failure to appear in court often comes down to a lack of transportation, work conflicts, not receiving a reminder, childcare or poor time management, Sills tells TechCrunch.

That’s where the idea came to humanize the system a bit more, by enabling public defenders to more easily connect with their clients. Uptrust is two-way in nature and reminds people on behalf of the public defender about court dates. Clients can also communicate any issues they may have about making it to court.

“If the public defender knows the client has an issue, they can usually get court moved,” Sills says. “But if they don’t have the information, they’re not going to lie on behalf of clients.”

Because public defenders don’t have much budget, Uptrust doesn’t charge very much, Sills says.

“But they really care about the client and one of the things we saw with this was we needed to change the whole front end of the system to be less adversarial and more human,” Sills says.

In addition to text reminders, Uptrust enables public defenders to assist with other needs clients may have.

“A lot of stuff around bail reform is around risk assessment rather than need assessment,” Sills tells me. “But we saw a lot of these individuals have needs, like help with rides, child care or reminders.”

Public defenders who are invested in the care of their clients can remind them via Uptrust to do things like ask for time off work or schedule child care.

For the end-user, the client, Uptrust is all text-based. For the public defenders, Uptrust offers a software solution that integrates into their case management systems.

Since launching in the summer of 2016 in California’s Contra Costa County, the court appearance rate improved from 80 percent to 95 percent, Sills says. To date, Uptrust has supported 20,000 people with a five percent FTA rate.

“As we improve product, if we can get [the FTA rate] down to 3 percent, you really can start taking that data and pushing forth major policy change,” Sills says.

Uptrust’s goal is to shift from risk assessment to needs assessment and ensure people are supported throughout their interactions with the criminal justice system.

“Our view is in terms of bail reform, we need to make sure there’s not a proliferation of things like ankle monitors and whatnot,” Sills says. “For us, success is really being a subcontractor to the community as well as working with the government. I think there’s a huge risk in bail reform as it relates to technology because people see it as a big business opportunity. If a company replaces the government, they may not have the community’s best interest in mind. So it’s important to keep in mind they have the community’s best interest in mind.”

Similar to Uptrust, a tech organization called Appolition works by operating within the confines of the system. Appolition, founded by Dr. Kortney Ryan Ziegler, enables people to funnel their spare change into the National Bail Out fund. As of April, Appolition has facilitated more than $130,000 to go toward bail relief. Ziegler was not available for comment for this story.

Promise, on the other hand, aims to provide an alternative to the cash bail system. In March, Promise raised a $3 million round led by First Round Capital with participation from Jay-Z’s Roc Nation.

The idea is to offer counties and local governments an alternative approach to holding people behind bars simply because they can’t afford bail. With Promise, case managers can monitor compliance with court orders and better keep tabs on people via the app. GPS monitoring is also an option, albeit a controversial one.

Let’s say you get arrested and end up having a bail hearing. Instead of asking you to pay bail, the public defender could suggest a pre-trial release with Promise. From there, Promise would work with the public defender and your case manager to determine your care plan.

“It’s clear that our values are about keeping people out of jail,” Promise CEO Phaedra Ellis-Lamkins told me on an episode of CTRL+T. “Like, we’re running a company but we fundamentally believe that not just it’s more cost-effective but that it’s the right thing to do.”

Instead of a county jail paying $190 per day per person, Ellis-Lamkins said, Promise charges some counties just $17 per person per day. In some cases, Promise charges even less per person.

It’s that for-profit model that worries Clayton.

“Whenever you bring in the for-profit ethos in a criminal justice space, I think we need to be careful,” Clayton says.

She didn’t explicitly call out any companies. In fact, she said she doesn’t feel ready to make a judgment on Promise just yet. But she has a general concern of tech solutions that “dazzle and distract system actors who we really need to hold accountable and see operate in more systemic, holistic ways.”

Solutions, Clayton says, look like social safety nets like hospitals and clinics instead of jails.

“If we want to really move ourselves away from this path we’ve been on,” Clayton says, “which is towards normalizing state control of people, then we should be really careful that our system that once looked like slavery to Jim Crow to mass incarceration doesn’t then become tech surveillance of all people.”

Read more: https://techcrunch.com

[mysteriouslyzealouspandalov-blog]

Bail reforms complex relationship with tech

New Post has been published on https://relationshipguideto.com/must-see/bail-reforms-complex-relationship-with-tech/

Bail reforms complex relationship with tech

On any given day in the United States, more than 450,000 people are behind bars awaiting their constitutionally mandated fair trial. None of them have been convicted of a crime — they’ve been accused of committing a crime, but no formal ruling of guilt or innocence has been made. That means these hundreds of thousands of people are incarcerated simply because they don’t have the financial means to post bail. 

Bail was originally designed to incentivize people to show up for their court dates, but it has since evolved into a system that separates the financially well-off from the poor. It requires arrested individuals to pay money in order to get out of jail while they await trial. For those who can’t afford bail, they wind up having to sit in jail, which means they may be at risk of missing rent payments, losing their jobs and failing to meet other responsibilities. 

Money bail is all too often a common condition to secure release from jail while a case is in progress. Cash bail systems result in leaving many people incarcerated, even though they haven’t been convicted of a crime. 

The cash bail system in the United States is one of the greatest injustices in the criminal justice system, ACLU Deputy National Political Director Udi Ofer tells TechCrunch. Bail reform, Ofer says, is a “key way to achieve” the goals of challenging racial disparities in the criminal justice system and ending mass incarceration. 

As we explored in “The other pipeline,” the criminal justice system in the United States is deeply rooted in racism and a history of oppression. Black and Latino people comprise about 1.5 million of the total 2.2 million people incarcerated in the U.S. adult correctional system, or 67 percent of the prison population, while making up just 37 percent of the total U.S. population, according to the Sentencing Project.

With a criminal justice system that disproportionately affects people of color, it’s no wonder the cash bail system does the same. For one, people of color are 25 percent more likely than white people to be denied the option of bail, according to a pre-trial study by Dr. Traci Schlesinger. And for the black people who are given the option to pay bail, the amount is 35 percent higher on average than bail for white men, according to a 2010 study.

The national felony bail median is $10,000. For those who can’t afford it, they have to rely on bail bond agencies, which charge a non-refundable fee to pay the required bail amount on the person’s behalf. The bail bond companies, which are backed by insurance companies, collect between $1.4 billion and $2.4 billion a year, according to the ACLU and Color of Change.

Source: ACLU/Color of Change

And if bail bond companies are out of reach, those who are sitting in jail awaiting trial are more likely to be convicted of the crime they were charged with. The non-felony conviction rate rose from 50 percent to 92 percent for those jailed pre-trial, according to a study by the New York City Criminal Justice Agency. Along the way, leading up to the trial, some prosecutors incentivize people to plead guilty to the charges even if they’re innocent.

“It’s time to end our nation’s system of cash bail that lets the size of your wallet determine whether you are granted freedom or stay locked up in jail,” Ofer says. “Money should never decide a person’s freedom yet that’s exactly what happens every day in the United States.”

Pre-trial detention is also costly to local cities, counties and taxpayers. It costs about $38 million a day to keep these largely nonviolent people behind bars, according to the Pretrial Justice Institute. Annually, that comes out to about $14 billion to jail unconvicted people.

“The only people benefiting from bail is the for-profit bail industry,” Ofer said. “If we’re ever going to end mass incarceration in the United States, then we need to end cash bail.”

Bail reform is coming

Across the nation, bail reform has made its way into a handful of states. New Jersey’s bail reform law took effect last January; since then, its daily jail population has dropped 17.2 percent, and courts have imposed cash bail on just 33 defendants out of 33,400, according to the ACLU.

The ACLU itself is working on bail reform in 38 states, including California, where Ofer says he is optimistic reform will happen this year. Right now, a pre-trial release bill, Senate Bill 10, is up for consideration in the Assembly. The bill argues California should ensure people awaiting trial are not incarcerated simply because they can’t afford to pay bail. The bill also advocates for counties to establish pre-trial services agencies to better determine if people are fit to be released.

The bill, introduced by Senators Bob Hertzberg and others, is backed by the ACLU and Essie Justice Group, an Oakland-based organization that advocates for actual justice in the criminal justice system.

“Today we have a system that allows for people to be released pre-trial if they have enough money to afford their bail,” Essie Justice Group founder Gina Clayton tells TechCrunch. “Everyone else is required to sit inside of a cage without any way out.”

Essie Justice Group works mostly with and for women who have incarcerated loved ones. Often, the only way out for people is help from family or a plea deal, Clayton says.

“When we see people making the bail, we see that women are going into tremendous debt and are also beholden to an industry that has time and time again been cited and known to practice in quite an incredibly despicable way in terms of coercing and harassing their customers,” Clayton says. “When we think about who are the people who know about what’s going on with bail, it’s black and brown women in this country.”

For the past two years, Essie Justice Group held an action around Mother’s Day, with the goal of bailing moms out of jail or immigration detention. Last year’s action led to the release of 30 women.

Photo via Essie Justice Group

Can tech help?

The short the answer is maybe. Earlier this month, Google banned ads for bail bond services, which Clayton says is the largest step any corporation has taken on behalf of people who have loved ones in jail. But while tech can help in some ways, Clayton has some concerns with additional for-profit entities entering the criminal justice system.

“There are definitely tech solutions that I’m very against,” Clayton said, but declined to comment on which ones in particular. “I will say that my energy around this doesn’t come from an imagined place. I’m seeing it happen. One of the things we’re seeing is companies who are interested in bail reform because they see another opportunity to make money off of families. Like, ‘let this person out, but have them, at a cost, check in with people I hire to do this fancy but expensive drug testing three times a week, pay for an ankle shackle or bracelet and GPS monitoring.’ I think the companies that are making money off of those types of things are the ones we need to be wary of.”

There is, however, one for-profit company that immediately jumped to Clayton’s mind as being one doing actual good in the criminal justice space. That company is Uptrust, which provides text message reminders to people regarding court dates.

“I think that is a really great addition to the landscape,” Clayton says. “The reason I’m a proponent of theirs is because I understand their politics and I know what they won’t do, which is take it a step further or get involved with getting incentivized to add on bells and whistles that look less like freedom for people but more revenue for them.”

Uptrust, founded by Jacob Sills and Elijah Gwynn, aims to help people make their court dates. While the movies like to depict flight risks and people skipping town ahead of their court dates, failure to appear in court often comes down to a lack of transportation, work conflicts, not receiving a reminder, childcare or poor time management, Sills tells TechCrunch.

That’s where the idea came to humanize the system a bit more, by enabling public defenders to more easily connect with their clients. Uptrust is two-way in nature and reminds people on behalf of the public defender about court dates. Clients can also communicate any issues they may have about making it to court.

“If the public defender knows the client has an issue, they can usually get court moved,” Sills says. “But if they don’t have the information, they’re not going to lie on behalf of clients.”

Because public defenders don’t have much budget, Uptrust doesn’t charge very much, Sills says.

“But they really care about the client and one of the things we saw with this was we needed to change the whole front end of the system to be less adversarial and more human,” Sills says.

In addition to text reminders, Uptrust enables public defenders to assist with other needs clients may have.

“A lot of stuff around bail reform is around risk assessment rather than need assessment,” Sills tells me. “But we saw a lot of these individuals have needs, like help with rides, child care or reminders.”

Public defenders who are invested in the care of their clients can remind them via Uptrust to do things like ask for time off work or schedule child care.

For the end-user, the client, Uptrust is all text-based. For the public defenders, Uptrust offers a software solution that integrates into their case management systems.

Since launching in the summer of 2016 in California’s Contra Costa County, the court appearance rate improved from 80 percent to 95 percent, Sills says. To date, Uptrust has supported 20,000 people with a five percent FTA rate.

“As we improve product, if we can get [the FTA rate] down to 3 percent, you really can start taking that data and pushing forth major policy change,” Sills says.

Uptrust’s goal is to shift from risk assessment to needs assessment and ensure people are supported throughout their interactions with the criminal justice system.

“Our view is in terms of bail reform, we need to make sure there’s not a proliferation of things like ankle monitors and whatnot,” Sills says. “For us, success is really being a subcontractor to the community as well as working with the government. I think there’s a huge risk in bail reform as it relates to technology because people see it as a big business opportunity. If a company replaces the government, they may not have the community’s best interest in mind. So it’s important to keep in mind they have the community’s best interest in mind.”

Similar to Uptrust, a tech organization called Appolition works by operating within the confines of the system. Appolition, founded by Dr. Kortney Ryan Ziegler, enables people to funnel their spare change into the National Bail Out fund. As of April, Appolition has facilitated more than $130,000 to go toward bail relief. Ziegler was not available for comment for this story.

Promise, on the other hand, aims to provide an alternative to the cash bail system. In March, Promise raised a $3 million round led by First Round Capital with participation from Jay-Z’s Roc Nation.

The idea is to offer counties and local governments an alternative approach to holding people behind bars simply because they can’t afford bail. With Promise, case managers can monitor compliance with court orders and better keep tabs on people via the app. GPS monitoring is also an option, albeit a controversial one.

Let’s say you get arrested and end up having a bail hearing. Instead of asking you to pay bail, the public defender could suggest a pre-trial release with Promise. From there, Promise would work with the public defender and your case manager to determine your care plan.

“It’s clear that our values are about keeping people out of jail,” Promise CEO Phaedra Ellis-Lamkins told me on an episode of CTRL+T. “Like, we’re running a company but we fundamentally believe that not just it’s more cost-effective but that it’s the right thing to do.”

Instead of a county jail paying $190 per day per person, Ellis-Lamkins said, Promise charges some counties just $17 per person per day. In some cases, Promise charges even less per person.

It’s that for-profit model that worries Clayton.

“Whenever you bring in the for-profit ethos in a criminal justice space, I think we need to be careful,” Clayton says.

She didn’t explicitly call out any companies. In fact, she said she doesn’t feel ready to make a judgment on Promise just yet. But she has a general concern of tech solutions that “dazzle and distract system actors who we really need to hold accountable and see operate in more systemic, holistic ways.”

Solutions, Clayton says, look like social safety nets like hospitals and clinics instead of jails.

“If we want to really move ourselves away from this path we’ve been on,” Clayton says, “which is towards normalizing state control of people, then we should be really careful that our system that once looked like slavery to Jim Crow to mass incarceration doesn’t then become tech surveillance of all people.”

Read more: https://techcrunch.com

[maggiedoyle]

2018 in Review

I, along with the masses, feel the need to reflect on the year behind us as we move into a new one. All in all, it was a long and hard year for me, but looking back there were many, many good moments. I went through them today via photos on my iphone, to jog my memory of all the things I did, saw, and took in this year. While likely very boring for you, you can read my write-ups by month further down. I also wrote out the accomplishments I’m proudest of this year. What I most want to share, though, is that this exercise made me feel better and infinitely more grateful about the year that I had! It is OK to feel bad about the year, of course, but picking out the good stuff, the memories and accomplishments I will carry with me — that really helped me see 2018 for what it was and feel prepared for 2019.

This year I: walked a whole lot, with a daily average of 5.4 miles this December; started Couch-to-5K (lol) and can now run almost 2 miles without stopping; met my yearly savings goal; started a regular volunteer gig at Tenants Together and volunteered at the Women’s Building during tax season (hmu with ur housing/tax Qs, folks); fulfilled a years-old dream of traveling to Chile and Argentina (and somehow have now visited 5 continents!); spent my first full calendar year at a full-time job; completed my (albeit measly) reading goal of 12 books in 2018 (my favorite was The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes).  

My resolutions include: new savings goal to meet; run a 5k; cook more (lol); write more.

2018 was a long year for a me, a bit of a slog, really. In looking back at the highlights, I also want to be honest about the downsides and the ruts. I experienced a fair amount of depression this year, more than I ever have; I tried to make big life changes that ultimately fell through; and I cried a lot. If you know me well you know my whole life is an existential crisis, but turning 25 I entered a new phase of it and I’m still grappling with finding my place. But I do believe moving through the rough stuff is important and necessary (as Bright Eyes sings, “your eyes must do some raining if you’re ever going to grow.” A little trite, a lot true). I am so, so grateful for my friends and family who have supported me, listened to me, and reminded me of my strengths when I’ve had a hard time reminding myself.     

Onwards and upwards, 2019 <3

January

Rang in the new year with Leah and Sarah in DC and kissed some macaroni and cheese at midnight. Went from SF to DC and back again for family business (and saw all of my cousins together for the first time in years)— on a connecting flight, witnessed the magic of flying into LA at night. Saw so many DC/Maryland friends at a Mags-in-DC happy hour. Women’s marched.

February

Had a wonderful surprise visit from my dear friend Nacho from Chile; had a magical Dolores day that ended with free empanadas from our new friend Paula. Went back to Big Sur for the first time in 10 years (bless Nacho for supporting me in the most difficult driving I’ve ever done, in Matt’s car no less (thanks Matt!)). Went back to LA and visited the Figure 8 wall, the Museum of Death, and LACMA. Started happy hour tradition with Meredith at the Lake Chalet; sliders and lavender lemonades (lemony snickets). Got my first budget through the Port Commission.

March

Pisco party with Will. Celebrated Pi Day with Katie. Made an Irish soda bread for St. Patrick’s and celebrated with the Stones. Took a while to close out my tab because I was not the only Doyle in the bar that night (ha!). Watched the entirety of Six Feet Under, briefly considered career shift to funeral director.

April

Turned 25 and was overjoyed to be joined by my brothers for their first trip to visit me in California. We went to Land’s End and to Santa Cruz. Peter cooked a delicious salmon dinner for us before my party. Special out of town guests at my birthday included Jacob and Pablo (wow was I lucky!). Got the best haircut & highlights of my life (thanks Ms. Siobhan!). Walked to work on walk to work day. Easter morning mass with Gregory. 

May

This was the month I went to Olive Garden at the Stonestown Mall by myself and sat alone at the bar. They treated me like a queen. Discovered internal family systems with my therapist and reached a turning point in learning to value myself. Was featured on SFGOVTV while my boss presented to the Board of Supervisors and I looked beautiful that day. Biked to work on bike to work day. Started volunteering at Tenants Together. Ate a tacro, it was weird.

June

Baby’s first camping trip to Arroyo Seco with Maddy, Vinnie, Gabi, and Joey. We swam in a gorge and I got a sunburn. Then we went to In-N-Out and camped a second night in the Byrne’s living room because we didn’t get a campsite for the second night. Tradr Sam’s with Gregory (he has far too much video evidence of the debauchery of this occasion). Pride at Dolores Park, someone bought me a rainbow jello shot, I vigorously reapplied sunscreen but drunkenly missed the same spots every time.

July

Freezing SF summer. Enjoyed Mamma Mia 2 (here we go again!) with the biggest Cher fan in existence (love 2 Sabrina) and Molly and Filipa. Got some summertime weather in Sacramento with Leah, where we went to a country club to play in their pool and went to the state fair. Elotes and deep fried cookie dough.  

August

Attended the international dog surfing competition (!!!) in Pacifica. Had my first visit back to Ocean City in several years, ate crabs on my grandparents’ deck and Thrasher’s french fries on the boardwalk. Traveled to Chicago for a hot minute and then to Madison, Wisconsin to see two dear friends, Laura and Ryan, get married. Their song was “This Must Be The Place.” Deep fried cheese curds.

September

Another visit to LA, this time to see Maddy and Vinnie in their brand-new home. Ate so much delicious food (Little Ethiopia! Zankou! Tacos!), swam in the Pacific Ocean for the first time (really swam) with Vinnie, and almost got banned from Dodgers stadium. Runyon Canyon and Point Dume with Matt and Jacob. Met a dog who lives in a laundromat after one of Molly’s shows. Published my first budget book.

October

Hiked the Marin Headlands with Matt and walked across the Golden Gate Bridge for the first time (somehow). Dogsat Stella for the Byrnes. Bought cool new glasses for $15. Canvassed for Propositions C + 10. Saw Roma at the Castro Theatre with Sarah, and Alfonso Cuaron and Yalitza Aparicio were there. Fell three (3) times at a haunted house from being scared (Molly as my witness). Killed the Halloween costume game.

November

More canvassing and phone banking for Props C + 10 (C passed!). The seawall bond passed and I was proud to have given presentations to community groups about it. Beautiful, beautiful Dia de los Muertos in the Mission with Tyler. Incredible, incredible trip to Chile and Argentina — too much to write here — terrazando, carmenere and piscolas, la cordillera, empanadas and choripans, a million museums, amazing views, and incredible company in Nacho, Rodrigo, Santiago, Joaquin, Pipe and Paz and Pablo and more. Wow.

December

Clementime with Molly. Successfully recreated my favorite dish from Buenos Aires, pollo a la portuguesa (she cooked!). Visited Sabrina in Santa Cruz, hiked Buzzard’s Roost in Big Basin and attended the greatest Christmas/guitar factory store party ever. Macaroni Grill (!!!) w Mere. Parties and shows with Joe and Pete, the Building Museum with Maddy, drinks and dinners and lunches and brunches with old, old friends. Family festivities. Rewatched all 8 Harry Potter films in a four day span.

[abckidstvyara]

On any given day in the United States, more than 450,000 people are behind bars awaiting their constitutionally mandated fair trial. None of them have been convicted of a crime — they’ve been accused of committing a crime, but no formal ruling of guilt or innocence has been made. That means these hundreds of thousands of people are incarcerated simply because they don’t have the financial means to post bail. 

Bail was originally designed to incentivize people to show up for their court dates, but it has since evolved into a system that separates the financially well-off from the poor. It requires arrested individuals to pay money in order to get out of jail while they await trial. For those who can’t afford bail, they wind up having to sit in jail, which means they may be at risk of missing rent payments, losing their jobs and failing to meet other responsibilities. 

Money bail is all too often a common condition to secure release from jail while a case is in progress. Cash bail systems result in leaving many people incarcerated, even though they haven’t been convicted of a crime. 

The cash bail system in the United States is one of the greatest injustices in the criminal justice system, ACLU Deputy National Political Director Udi Ofer tells TechCrunch. Bail reform, Ofer says, is a “key way to achieve” the goals of challenging racial disparities in the criminal justice system and ending mass incarceration. 

As we explored in “The other pipeline,” the criminal justice system in the United States is deeply rooted in racism and a history of oppression. Black and Latino people comprise about 1.5 million of the total 2.2 million people incarcerated in the U.S. adult correctional system, or 67 percent of the prison population, while making up just 37 percent of the total U.S. population, according to the Sentencing Project.

With a criminal justice system that disproportionately affects people of color, it’s no wonder why the cash bail system does the same. For one, people of color are 25 percent more likely than white people to be denied the option of bail, according to a pre-trial study by Dr. Traci Schlesinger. And for the black people who are given the option to pay bail, the amount is 35 percent higher on average than bail for white men, according to a 2010 study.

The national felony bail median is $10,000. For those who can’t afford it, they have to rely on bail bond agencies, which charge a non-refundable fee to pay the required bail amount on the person’s behalf. The bail bond companies, which are backed by insurance companies, collect between $1.4 billion and $2.4 billion a year, according to the ACLU and Color of Change.

Source: ACLU/Color of Change

And if bail bond companies are out of reach, those who are sitting in jail awaiting trial are more likely to be convicted of the crime they were charged with. The non-felony conviction rate rose from 50 percent to 92 percent for those jailed pre-trial, according to a study by the New York City Criminal Justice Agency. Along the way, leading up to the trial, some prosecutors incentivize people to plead guilty to the charges even if they’re innocent.

“It’s time to end our nation’s system of cash bail that lets the size of your wallet determine whether you are granted freedom or stay locked up in jail,” Ofer says. “Money should never decide a person’s freedom yet that’s exactly what happens every day in the United States.”

Pre-trial detention is also costly to local cities, counties and taxpayers. It costs about $38 million a day to keep these largely nonviolent people behind bars, according to the Pretrial Justice Institute. Annually, that comes out to about $14 billion to jail unconvicted people.

“The only people benefiting from bail is the for-profit bail industry,” Ofer said. “If we’re ever going to end mass incarceration in the United States, then we need to end cash bail.”

Bail reform is coming

Across the nation, bail reform has made its way into a handful of states. New Jersey’s bail reform law took effect last January; since then, its daily jail population has dropped 17.2 percent, and courts have imposed cash bail on just 33 defendants out of 33,400, according to the ACLU.

The ACLU itself is working on bail reform in 38 states, including California, where Ofer says he is optimistic reform will happen this year. Right now, a pre-trial release bill, Senate Bill 10, is up for consideration in the Assembly. The bill argues California should ensure people awaiting trial are not incarcerated simply because they can’t afford to pay bail. The bill also advocates for counties to establish pre-trial services agencies to better determine if people are fit to be released.

The bill, introduced by Senators Bob Hertzberg and others, is backed by the ACLU and Essie Justice Group, an Oakland-based organization that advocates for actual justice in the criminal justice system.

“Today we have a system that allows for people to be released pre-trial if they have enough money to afford their bail,” Essie Justice Group founder Gina Clayton tells TechCrunch. “Everyone else is required to sit inside of a cage without any way out.”

Essie Justice Group works mostly with and for women who have incarcerated loved ones. Often, the only way out for people is help from family or a plea deal, Clayton says.

“When we see people making the bail, we see that women are going into tremendous debt and are also beholden to an industry that has time and time again been cited and known to practice in quite an incredibly despicable way in terms of coercing and harassing their customers,” Clayton says. “When we think about who are the people who know about what’s going on with bail, it’s black and brown women in this country.”

For the past two years, Essie Justice Group held an action around Mother’s Day, with the goal of bailing moms out of jail or immigration detention. Last year’s action led to release of 30 women.

Photo via Essie Justice Group

Can tech help?

The short the answer is maybe. Earlier this month, Google banned ads for bail bonds services, which Clayton says is the largest step any corporation has taken on behalf of people who have loved ones in jail. But while tech can help in some ways, Clayton has some concerns with additional for-profit entities entering the criminal justice system.

“There are definitely tech solutions that I’m very against,” Clayton said, but declined to comment on which ones in particular. “I will say that my energy around this doesn’t come from an imagined place. I’m seeing it happen. One of the things we’re seeing is companies who are interested in bail reform because they see another opportunity to make money off of families. Like, ‘let this person out, but have them, at a cost, check in with people I hire to do this fancy but expensive drug testing three times a week, pay for an ankle shackle or bracelet and GPS monitoring.’ I think the companies that are making money off of those types of things are the ones we need to be wary of.”

There is, however, one for-profit company that immediately jumped to Clayton’s mind as being one doing actual good in the criminal justice space. That company is Uptrust, which provides text message reminders to people regarding court dates.

“I think that is a really great addition to the landscape,” Clayton says. “The reason I’m a proponent of theirs is because I understand their politics and I know what they won’t do, which is take it a step further or get involved with getting incentivized to add on bells and whistles that look less like freedom for people but more revenue for them.”

Uptrust, founded by Jacob Sills and Elijah Gwynm, aims to help people make their court dates. While the movies like to depict flight risks and people skipping town ahead of their court dates, failure to appear in court often comes down to a lack of transportation, work conflicts, not receiving a reminder, childcare or poor time management, Sills tells TechCrunch.

That’s where the idea came to humanize the system a bit more, by enabling public defenders to more easily connect with their clients. Uptrust is two-way in nature and reminds people on behalf of the public defender about court dates. Clients can also communicate any issues they may have about making it to court.

“If the public defender knows the client has an issue, they can usually get court moved,” Sills says. “But if they don’t have the information, they’re not going to lie on behalf of clients.”

Because public defenders don’t make much money, Uptrust doesn’t charge very much, Sills says.

“But they really care about the client and one of the things we saw with this was we needed to change the whole front end of the system to be less adversarial and more human,” Sills says.

In addition to text reminders, Uptrust enables public defenders to assist with other needs clients may have.

“A lot of stuff around bail reform is around risk assessment rather than need assessment,” Sills tells me. “But we saw a lot of these individuals have needs, like helps with rides, child care or reminders.”

Public defenders who are invested in the care of their clients can remind them via Uptrust to do things like ask for time off work or schedule child care.

For the end-user, the client, Uptrust is all text-based. For the public defenders, Uptrust offers a software solution that integrates into their case management systems.

Since launching in the summer of 2016 in California’s Contra Costa County, the court appearance rate improved from 80 percent to 95 percent, Sills says. To date, Uptrust has supported 20,000 people with a five percent FTA rate.

“As we improve product, if we can get [the FTA rate] down to 3 percent, you really can start taking that data and pushing forth major policy change,” Sills says.

Uptrust’s goal is to shift from risk assessment to needs assessment and ensure people are supported throughout their interactions with the criminal justice system.

“Our view is in terms of bail reform, we need to make sure there’s not a proliferation of things like ankle monitors and whatnot,” Sills says. “For us, success is really being a subcontractor to the community as well as working with the government. I think there’s a huge risk in bail reform as it relates to technology because people see it as a big business opportunity, If a company replaces the government, they may not have the community’s best interest in mind. So it’s important to keep in mind they have the community’s best interest in mind.”

Similar to Uptrust, a tech organization called Appolition works by operating within the confines of the system. Appolition, founded by Dr. Kortney Ryan Zieger, enables people to funnel their spare change into the National Bail Out fund. As of April, Appolition has facilitated over $130,000 to go toward bail relief. Ziegler was not available for comment for this story.

Promise, on the other hand, aims to provide an alternative to the cash bail system. In March, Promise raised a $3 million round led by First Round Capital with participation from from Jay-Z’s Roc Nation.

The idea is to offer counties and local governments an alternative approach to holding people behind bars simply because they can’t afford bail. With Promise, case managers can monitor compliance with court orders and better keep tabs on people via the app. GPS monitoring is also an option, albeit a controversial one.

Let’s say you get arrested and end up having a bail hearing. Instead of asking you to pay bail, the public defender could suggest a pre-trial release with Promise. From there, Promise would work with the public defender and your case manager to determine your care plan.

“It’s clear that our values are about keeping people out of jail,” Promise CEO Phaedra Ellis-Lamkins told me on an episode of CTRL+T. “Like, we’re running a company but we fundamentally believe that not just it’s more cost effective but that it’s the right thing to do.”

Instead of a county jail paying $190 per day per person, Ellis-Lamkins said, Promise charges some counties just $17 per person per day. In some cases, Promise charges even less per person.

It’s that for-profit model that worries Clayton.

“Whenever you bring in the for-profit ethos in a criminal justice space, I think we need to be careful,” Clayton says.

She didn’t explicitly call out any companies. In fact, she said she doesn’t feel ready to make a judgment on Promise just yet. But she has a general concern of tech solutions that “dazzle and distract system actors who we really need to hold accountable and see operate in more systemic, holistic ways.”

Solutions, Clayton says, look like social safety nets like hospitals and clinics instead of jails.

“If we want to really move ourselves away from this path we’ve been on,” Clayton says, “which is towards normalizing state control of people then we should be really careful that our system that once looked like slavery to Jim Crow to mass incarceration doesn’t then become tech surveillance of all people.”

[junker-town]

2017 is a rebuild year for West Virginia football. Top-25 hype isn’t quite fair.

Don’t be disappointed if Dana Holgorsen falls short of outside expectations this year.

What should WVU sustain in a conference that requires infinite travel, far removed from the recruiting base, with no nearby rivals? The Mountaineers have won either seven or eight games three times in their four years in the Big 12 and were lucky to win four in the other year. If Dana Holgorsen can put 2013 further in the rearview and establish a rhythm in the eight-win range, is that enough? If it isn't ... shouldn't it be?

While his offense is experienced and explosive, his defense has to replace key pieces. But if the Mountaineers could put another top-30 product on the field while saving some of their good performances for good opponents, that might go a long way toward earning him a seventh season.

A year ago, Holgorsen and West Virginia were in an awkward place. Holgorsen had led the Mountaineers to bowls in four of his first five years and was more or less holding onto WVU’s historical pace for success.

His lone glitch year, though — a 4-8 2013 — was immensely damaging, and while he had improved since, he only had a 15-11 record in those years. Nobody sees an 8-5 season like what WVU had in 2015 as a goal; it’s a way station on your way up or down. WVU administrators didn’t appear convinced WVU was on its way up and considered letting Holgorsen walk.

The Mountaineers then went 10-3 in 2016, beating nine-win BYU and Kansas State, winning at Texas and Texas Tech, and finishing in the AP poll for the first time in five years. They produced 88 gains of 20-plus yards, ninth in the country and 26 more than they managed in 2015. They went 4-0 in one-possession games after losing five of their previous seven such finishes.

Aside from a disappointing bowl against Miami, this was the year that fans wanted to see. Holgorsen bought a reserve of goodwill, and he heads into his seventh season renewed. Florida transfer and former blue-chip quarterback Will Grier takes over alongside 1,100-yard rusher Justin Crawford.

All is well. Right?

Well, Holgo might have to spend a little bit more of that goodwill than he’d prefer. Grier helps to mitigate the loss of Skyler Howard, sure, but two of the top three running backs and five of the top seven offensive linemen are gone, and the defense must replace its top three linemen, its best linebacker, and five of its top six defensive backs. The Mountaineers are going to be reliant on youth and newcomers, and the offense is putting a lot of stock in a quarterback who had about two good games before losing his redshirt freshman season to a performance-enhancing drug suspension.

WVU ranks second-to-last in my returning production measure, bringing back just 28 percent of its production, a level that virtually assures regression. Combine that with top-50 recruiting and solid-not-great recent performance, and you’ve got a drastic projected fall.

The Mountaineers win total is projected to fall from 10 to five, and while this is slightly off-base because it doesn’t take transfers into account, Grier only has 1,200 career passing yards. His addition wouldn’t make a drastic difference in the overall formula.

In 2015, WVU was misleadingly good. The Neers ranked 21st in S&P+ despite only winning eight games. They showed huge upside and suffered bad breaks in losses to Oklahoma State and Kansas State. In 2016, they regressed a hair but were on the right end of those lucky breaks.

Now Holgorsen faces maybe his trickiest coaching situation. Despite what the numbers warn, WVU is facing top-25 expectations with a roster that will look almost nothing like last year’s. The possibility for disappointment is high, and if the numbers are right, Holgo will be back on the hot seat.

That’s both fair and unfair. If WVU barely carves out a top-70 2017, as S&P+ projects — I don’t expect it to be that bad — you can debate whether that’s too low a floor for a major conference team with WVU’s recent history. Still, after two straight top-30 seasons, Holgo should be able to afford a retooling season without again being in jeopardy. Setting the bar in the wrong place could make this season feel like a crippling disappointment instead of a foreseeable reset.

Of course, there’s one way to solve these issues: avoid a setback at all. If the newcomers come through, the ceiling’s still pretty high.

2016 in review

2016 WVU statistical profile.

The first half of the regular season could barely have gone any better. The Mountaineers handled Missouri and TCU by a combined 39 points at home, withstood tough tests from BYU and KSU, and throttled Texas Tech in Lubbock. They allowed more than 21 points just once and scored at least 34 points four times.

The upside was still there over the second half of the season, but the efforts were less consistent.

First 6 games (6-0): Avg. percentile performance: 79% (~top 25) | Yards per play: WVU 6.6, Opp 5.1 (plus-1.5) | Performance vs. S&P+ projection: plus-10.4 PPG

Last 7 games (4-3): Avg. percentile performance: 63% (~top 45) | Yards per play: WVU 6.3, Opp 5.9 (plus-0.4) | Performance vs. S&P+ projection: minus-4.0 PPG

The defense still held four of its final seven opponents to 21 or fewer points and averaged a combined 8.4 yards per play against Kansas, Oklahoma, and Iowa State. But the Mountaineers allowed 41 points per game in losses and labored to get past a faltering Texas and an already faltered Baylor.

There were just enough injuries to make this a less consistent squad. Attrition at running back led Holgorsen to tear the redshirt off of freshman Martell Pettaway in WVU’s 11th game, and the cornerback position was one of attrition and shuffling as well. On average, this team probably wasn’t quite as good as its record, but it was still good. And now it has to be just as good with a massive change in the cast of characters.

Offense

Full advanced stats glossary.

Air raid disciples are supposed to air the ball out. It’s right there in the name.

But good coaches adapt to what they are seeing from defenses, and WVU has nearly topped 3,000 rushing yards in each of the last two seasons. Wendell Smallwood was a revelation for the Neers in 2015, rushing for 1,519 yards at 6.4 yards per carry. And while last year was more of a committee effort, JUCO transfer Justin Crawford still hung nearly 1,200 yards on the board (at 7.3 yards per carry), and two freshmen — Pettaway and Kennedy McKoy — combined for 732 yards at 6 yards per carry.

For all the conversation about Grier, the run is now the base of the Holgo offense. WVU was balanced on standard downs last year, rushing 60 percent of the time (almost precisely the national average), but the Mountaineers were run-heavy on passing downs, throwing just 60 percent of the time. They still got the ball to guys in space (83 percent of tackles against WVU were solo tackles), and they still operated with high tempo, but the combination of Crawford, the looks given by opposing defenses, and Howard’s scramble-happy skill set made WVU a run-heavy team.

We’ll see how much that changes with Grier. The former blue-chipper got a lot of mileage out of one incredible performance in 2015; he completed 24 of 29 for 271 yards and four touchdowns in an out-of-nowhere 28-point win over a top-10 Ole Miss. His passer rating was 131.9 in his other five games, however — fine for a freshman, really — and Florida remained mostly a “run the ball and let the defense win” team.

Photo by Mike Ehrmann/Getty Images

Will Grier

The addition of both Grier and coordinator Jake Spavital — last seen co-authoring a Cal offense that attempted 53 passes per game — could lead to a change. But the receiving corps could determine that as well. The Mountaineers have to replace an elite efficiency receiver (slot receiver Dalkiel Shorts Jr., who produced a 63 percent success rate) and an elite big-play guy (Shelton Gibson, who averaged 22.1 yards per catch).

Senior Ka’Raun White and junior Jovon Durante are decent possession guys, but Grier’s probably going to have to count on some newcomers. JUCO transfer and QB-turned-WR David Sills had a big spring, and 6’5 JUCO transfer Dominique Maiden could quickly enter the rotation, and well, we know that redshirt freshman walk-on Druw Bowen can make hard catches, anyway:

YES SIR Druw Bowen! The freshman put in some work today! http://pic.twitter.com/w1a5Yvu2Nn

— WVU Football (@WVUfootball) September 22, 2016

In all, unless a veteran like Durante or return man Gary Jennings begins to discover his ceiling, the JUCOs will be key to keeping the upside high in the passing game.

Something else that could lead to a change (or non-change) in WVU’s approach: turnover up front. Center Tyler Orlosky and left tackle Adam Pankey — 2016 all-conference guys who combined for 78 career starts — are both gone, as are two others who started at least six games last year. That leaves guard Kyle Bosch, tackle Colton McKivitz, and a whole lot of uncertainty up front. Tennessee transfer Ray Raulerson and JUCOs Isaiah Hardy and Kelby Wickline could help quickly, but a drop-off in run blocking is obviously possible.

Ben Queen-USA TODAY Sports

Ka’Raun White

Defense

Tony Gibson has been one of the country’s most underrated defensive coordinators. After a rough first year in charge at WVU, he has over the last three seasons produced Def. S&P+ rankings of 46th, 30th, and 37th, despite dealing with decent levels of turnover each year. One year he’ll have a well-seasoned front six and a brand new secondary. Another year, he’ll have the opposite.

This year, he’s got ... experience at linebacker. Senior Al-Rasheed Benton and sophomore David Long were steady contributors, and Long showed a little play-making potential in logging 4.5 tackles for loss. And he’s got some experienced guys in the back, too; it’s just that only one of them played for WVU in 2016.

Michael C. Johnson-USA TODAY Sports

David Long

Safety Kyzir White combined seven tackles for loss with five passes defensed from the SPUR safety/OLB position. The former four-star recruit has lived up to his recruiting ranking and is the type of hybrid nickel back that every Big 12 defense needs. He’s going to have a lot of new faces around him, though. Safety Dravon Askew-Henry does return after missing 2015 with injury, and Syracuse transfer Corey Winfield joins the mix. But corners Rasul Douglas, Maurice Fleming, Antonio Crawford, and Nana Kyeremeh are all gone; so are safeties Jarrod Harper, Jeremy Tyler, and Khairi Sharif. Of the 11 DBs to record at least 11 tackles last year, only four return. Turnover in the secondary is a huge signifier of a defense that is about to regress, and WVU has a lot of turnover in the secondary.

If Gibson can find some cornerbacks — Winfield? A senior like Mike Daniels or Elijah Battle? A youngster like Jordan Adams or Sean Mahone? JUCO transfer Hakeem Bailey? — you can talk yourself into the rest of the secondary holding steady. So that leads to the next big question mark.

WVU ranked a healthy 30th in Rushing S&P+ last year, an accomplishment, considering the Mountaineers weren’t particularly disruptive — 98th in stuff rate (run stops at or behind the line), 124th in power success rate — but the combination of linemen eating blocks and linebackers flowing to the ball worked.

In Justin Arndt, WVU must replace its flow-to-the-ball guy. A bigger concern: the Mountaineers must also replace all three starting linemen. Darrien Howard, Noble Nwachukwu, and Christian Brown combined for 18 tackles for loss while eating blocks; that’s a tough combination to replace.

Gibson’s going to have to rely on youngsters. There are still veterans like tackle Xavier Pegues, but at end, production’s going to have to come from sophomores Adam Shuler II and Reese Donahue, redshirt freshman Jeffery Pooler Jr., and JUCO transfer Ezekiel Rose. And if Pegues or JUCO Jalen Harvey get hurt, the rotation at tackle is going to be tiny.

WVU’s defense is going to be patched together with duct tape and chicken wire. If the Mountaineers get lucky with injuries and a young end and corner step up, another top-40 performance is possible. But regression is a lot more possible.

Kevin Jairaj-USA TODAY Sports

Dravon Askew-Henry

Special Teams

I have three years of Special Teams S&P+ data at the moment. And in those three years, WVU has gone from ranking 12th in 2014 to 44th in 2015 to 112th in 2016. The Mountaineers ranked no better than 72nd in any single category last year and ranked worse than 100th in three: field goal efficiency (Mike Molina missed four field goals under 40 yards and made just two of five over 40), kickoff success rate (only 32 percent of Molina’s kickoffs were touchbacks, and opponents averaged 23 yards per return), and punt return success rate (21 Gary Jennings returns netted a total of 39 yards).

For better or worse, everybody’s back.

This didn’t affect WVU’s ability to win close games in 2016, but special teams can flip some tight games, and with a far less stable defense, the Mountaineers can’t afford to be this awful in special teams again this year.

2017 outlook

2017 Schedule & Projection Factors

Date Opponent Proj. S&P+ Rk Proj. Margin Win Probability 2-Sep vs. Virginia Tech 25 -10.4 27% 9-Sep East Carolina 100 12.4 76% 16-Sep Delaware State NR 46.4 100% 23-Sep at Kansas 107 9.3 70% 7-Oct at TCU 21 -14.8 20% 14-Oct Texas Tech 66 0.9 52% 21-Oct at Baylor 28 -11.0 26% 28-Oct Oklahoma State 22 -9.6 29% 4-Nov Iowa State 57 -0.3 49% 11-Nov at Kansas State 35 -9.4 29% 18-Nov Texas 16 -11.7 25% 25-Nov at Oklahoma 5 -24.7 8%

Projected S&P+ Rk 69 Proj. Off. / Def. Rk 49 / 80 Projected wins 5.1 Five-Year S&P+ Rk 5.3 (45) 2- and 5-Year Recruiting Rk 44 / 43 2016 TO Margin / Adj. TO Margin* 4 / 8.4 2016 TO Luck/Game -1.7 Returning Production (Off. / Def.) 28% (30%, 25%) 2016 Second-order wins (difference) 7.9 (2.1)

On the surface, it’s not hard to see why prognosticators are sticking West Virginia in the back end of their top 25s. Grier and Crawford in the backfield? Askew-Henry and White back in the secondary? Other familiar names like Benton and White? Sounds good!

It’s going to take quite a bit of good fortune for WVU to live up to that, though. The Mountaineers are starting over on the defensive line and in the secondary, the offensive line has a couple of stars to replace, and despite some veterans, the receiving corps has no proven better-than-average guys.

I figure the S&P+ projection of 69th is a bit harsh — I’m looking at ways to make JUCOs worth more in the S&P+ projection formula, since they’re more likely to contribute early — but something closer to 50th feels a lot more accurate than the top 25. And with a schedule that features games against Virginia Tech, TCU, Baylor, Kansas State, and Oklahoma away from home (not to mention Oklahoma State and Texas in Morgantown), that sets the bar at “just make a bowl again.”

To me, this looks like a reset year for WVU. And that’s okay! The Mountaineers boast upside with underclassmen at nearly every position and should be at a top-30 level in 2018. But if they go 6-6 or 7-5 this year, that should be a sign of good things to come, not a disappointment.

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