#penny yells about the legal system

[nyarmand]

i’m going to lecture you about the law and you will like it(or not, up to you)

okay so first of all it is not just important to know the law if you’re like me and you want to be a lawyer, or a judge, or whatever. literally everyone should know at least the basics of the law because you’re living under it and you ought to know what it is you’re living under. (if you take this as a ‘penny agrees with all laws’ then you had better stretch before you reach that far because otherwise you’re going to pull a muscle. laws as a concept are not inherently good or bad. there are good laws and there are bad laws.)

the law intersects with every part of our lives, so it is not only prudent but often vital to know as much as you can about it. it’s better to know more than you need to than to find yourself in a rough spot with no knowledge to fall back on.

anyway, into the actual lecture. note that i am merely a student of the law so while i am fairly confident in what i am about to say you should ALWAYS do your own research. be proactive! these things could become quite helpful in the future.

furthermore, note that i am an american citizen and as such my knowledge is based on the american legal system. if you are not in america your legal system may be entirely different. (and if so, i would love to hear about it!)

there are several overarching ‘types’ of law, but as my interest and therefore much of my knowledge lies in criminal law, i will be talking about that.

i’m guessing i don’t have to tell you what crime is. if you don’t know, then i think you have a lot bigger problems on your hands.

now the other half of criminal law is, well, punishment. but that takes a lot of forms.

first, you have to be deemed culpable. what does culpability mean? well, the word culpable means ‘deserving of moral blame or punishment; at fault; having acted with indifference to consequences and to the rights of others’. 

take for example the difference between someone who causes the death of a friend due to unknowingly giving them food they’re severely allergic to, someone who kills another while drunk driving, and someone who poisons their spouse to cash in on life insurance. in all three of these cases, someone has died due to the actions of someone else. but who is culpable?

this is where the concept of ‘mens rea’ comes in. ‘mens rea’ is latin and means, in short, ‘a guilty state of mind’. 

criminal offenses are usually defined with reference to one of four criminal states of mind: intent, knowledge, recklessness, and gross (criminal) negligence. 

in the first example, the person who caused the death of their friend did not intend to do so. they had no knowledge that their friend was allergic to the food they were given. they weren’t acting recklessly, and they weren’t negligent. they are not culpable.

in the second example, the drunk driver did not intend to kill anyone. but most everyone knows it’s dangerous to drink and drive. they were acting recklessly and negligently by driving inebriated. they are culpable; probably facing negligent homicide.

in the third example, the spouse’s death was intentional, and planned as well. that’s where the most culpability comes in. the killer would face first degree murder charges. (you can read more about murder and manslaughter charges here.)

of course, one also has to take into question responsibility. this is one of the reasons why juvenile offenders have much lesser sentences than they would if they were an adult; society recognizes that they are young and their brains are not as developed as an adult’s would be. however, in the case of particular crimes such as murder, a juvenile offender can be tried as an adult. it all comes down to specific cases.

‘but penny!’ you might say. ‘two adults might not get the same sentences either!’

well, there’s a reason for that, as well: depravity.

say that one person shoots another in the head, point blank. their death was most likely very quick. 

on the other hand, think of some of the most horrible murder cases you know of. the ones that make you cringe and maybe even cry just because of how awful they are. (if you don’t know any that are that bad, good for you. seriously.) 

one of these crimes is considered far worse than the other--and for fairly obvious reasons. the person who committed the latter crime will likely get a worse sentence than the person who committed the former.

there are other reasons why people might have very different sentences, but most of them don’t fall under the legal system. by that i mean, there is no law that states that a person of color gets a higher sentence than a white person. it’s the result of societal views and prejudices. because i am talking about the law itself, i will not get into them here. still, it is important to know that such things exist and occur.

of course, this all assumes that the person in question is even convicted! in most cases, this will be decided by a jury--a group of (typically) twelve people, otherwise unrelated to the case, who listen to the case presented in court and decide whether or not the defendant(person accused of the crime) is guilty or innocent.

now, there are two important elements that determine guilt: mens rea, which we’ve already gone over, and ‘actus reus’. that’s latin again, meaning ‘the criminal act’: the physical act that is declared a crime. in murder, the actus reus is homicide; in burglary, it’s unlawful entering with criminal intent; et cetera, et cetera. actus reus is a pretty simple concept: it’s the thing that the law says not to do. and either you did it, or you didn’t. 

further note: if you intend to harm one person but in the process make a mistake and harm someone else instead, you are still culpable. you had intent to harm and you committed harm. WHO the victim is is actually pretty irrelevant(though you’ll likely get a much higher sentence if you hurt, say, a child, than you would if you hurt an adult).

and that’s a very basic explanation of the elements that go into determining guilt. i may talk more about further procedures later...

[the-violet-void]

___Meet The inhabitants of The Violet Void___

Penni- short for Penumbra. the host. you'll see it the most often. mostly. just a voidpunk voidgirl voidthnng trying its best. is a member of the in system polycule

Lili- short for Lilith. the responsible one, tries her best to help us make good decisions. enjoys video editing. is a member of the in system polycule

Ember - goddess of flame. incredibly vain and quick to anger if you ever see us yelling and getting really pissed off that's her. she's also very protective of us, stepping in to defend us and the people we care about

Soul - a big meanie who intentionally triggers our psychosis to mess with us. thankfully she hasn't been as successful since we got treated

Cherri - (pronounced cherry) really enjoys learning about drugs, and is interested in trying basically all of them. she's so far happy just sticking to weed (we use legal altcanabinoids) thankfully, but she has an interest in all sorts of drugs. is a member of the in system polycule

Jane - basically a big ball of depression. we do all we can to try to support her

Zorra - some people just want to watch the world burn, she wants to dance through the flames while humming a jolly tune

Vhoid - an entity that inhabits our body, and will inhabit someone else's when we die. it's only want is to bring about the end of all things, but it's waiting for the right time

Eris - basically a living shitpost. loves to sew confusion and fuck with people, she means it in a lighthearted way

Star - hard to explain. she's chill but she doesn't understand the world so good. please be patient with her as she'll have a lot of questions

Sara - exists in littlespace. loves coloring and playgrounds and stuff like that. absolutely loves plushies

Amy - nonverbal, but an absolute sweetheart. can only communicate through noises and text. gets frustrated sometimes because we struggle to get thoughts across through text due to our neurodiversity. is a member of the in system polycule

Lana - loves to eat, i dont know much about her because i cant hear her thoughts, but i know she's there because she takes over the body to make pizza rolls or whatever

Katie - has an impulse to steal shit, she can't help it so we just have to keep a really good eye on her. she stole Skellanimal Silly Bandz once and we wont let her live that down. they were pretty cool though tbf

Zenith - super friendly tv headed girl. happy to be anyone's friend if they're nice

there are many headmates who form, have a brief conversation with whoever's around or just gives us their thoughts on whatever is going on, then disappear, seemingly forever

[toysoldiers-rwby]

[CS] 10. Learning Pains

Cutting Strings

Characters: Penny Polendina, Aurora Glade, Winter Schnee, May Marigold Word Count: 5.5k

Everything crumbles under a weak foundation.

Read on Ao3

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Faunus Oddities: 1  

Penny looked down at Aro, watching her carefully. She breathed in, and in, and in. So deep Penny thought she was part Aquarian mammal. On the exhale she pressed her hand firmly, but gently to avoid waking her up, on Aro’s exposed cleavage, as close to the center of her lungs as possible-  

“Wha…”  

Penny locked her joints. She could feel several hydrolic system stiffen, making her jerk anyway. Thankfully Aro was exhausted from yesterday’s combat class. Her scared ears twitch and she cuddled her pillow, hair splayed out without any horns to cradle it in.  

Winter and May looked mildly amused but mostly confused. Winter cleared her voice, speaking in a normal volume this time. “What, pray tell, are you doing Ms. Polendina?” Winter asked, her voice faux professional. Her cool mask soften by slight tilt of her lips and raised brow. Though she did still held her hands behind her back.  

“I’m trying to figure out if Aro purrs,” Penny answered.  

“Can’t feel it even though you laying on her?” Winter asked, her voice perfectly leveled. May grabbed her shoulder biting a finger to refrain from laughing. She did snort when Penny stuck her tongue out at her.  

“My sense of touch is… not sensitive.” Penny answered carefully. It was a wonder her father got it working at all. Penny settled back on Aro again, careful not to knock her leg off of the couch. Penny had missed her chance to gather data and had to wait. Again Aro took a deep breath that went on far too long. Long enough for May to comfortably lean against the back of the couch and for Winter to hover next to her.  

On the exhale Penny placed her hand back on Aro’s cleavage. Luckily organic beings had remarkably even breathing when they sleep, so it was easy for Penny to keep an even pressure-  

"I definitely heard something," May mubmled, understandably skeptical. “But she’s a goat Faunus.”  

“Feel it!” Penny grabbed her hand and dragged it to Aro’s chest. She tried to pull it out but Penny adjusted her grip and strength.  

“This is so inappropriate!” May hissed, blood quickly rising to her cheeks. “You fell asleep on her again! It’s alright if you- well not touch but- but!” Penny pouted and let go. May barely stopped herself from flying backwards.  

“You said it was bad to touch strangers without asking.”  

“This is, it’s different- Winter!?” May’s voice took on an odd strangled and restricted tone as she failed to stop from yelling. Winter had placed a hand on Aro’s chest and another delicately around her neck. Penny was a little worried about how much blood seemed to be in May’s face but she was also enthralled at the pressure Winter needed to maintain around Aro’s neck. “What are you doing?!”  

“Trying to listen and feel, Marigold.” Winter answered. She leaned in and closed her eyes, ear directed at Aro. Finally on the next exhale there was that soft sound again. Winter nearly jumped. Instead she pressed just a little more on the hand on Aro’s chest until the noise drifted off. “Aurora purrs.”  

“I told you!”  

"She does not! She’s a goat." May yelled back.  

“I didn’t peg you as a racist.”  

Winter jerked back while Penny and May screamed. Thankfully the deaf women didn’t wake up startled. Instead she roused gently from all the movement. Penny made an odd noise. Perhaps a yelp as she was suddenly shifted and held. Aro had clasp a hand on her should to leverage herself into a sitting position while her other one was on Penny’s waist to make sure she didn’t fall off. The metal women went from nestled atop Aro to in her lap.  

Penny stilled trying to calm her processors. Her father was able to upgrade a few drivers to better accommodate all the physical sensations but the artificial skin wasn’t meant to be artificial, but rather synthetic, in combination with organic analysis and inputs. Too much all at once caused her Aura to glitch her systems, a flood warmth and power to hardware that didn’t need it. Such as the one that simulated dopamine and serotonin.  

From the kitchen Xanthic and Ciel grinned and sneered. Xanthic looked at May and Winter, signing something. Penny’s sign language has gotten better but she didn’t feel accomplished when the only sign she recognized was ‘forget’.  

“Did ya’ll forget my house is bugged?” May whispered to Winter. The Specialist groaned into a hand. Aro snapped her fingers, getting their attention and signing at them with a frown. May cleared her throat and translated. “What… are you all doing?”  

“These idiots,” May pointed at Winter and Penny. “Was trying to find out… if you purred.” May said.  

Aro nodded. Though in understanding or confirmation was unsure. She paused to wake up a little more. She stretched her back and arms high above her head. Penny watch, her shoulders and arms flexed. She could see the muscles in her neck and shoulder jerk. From Penny’s place on her lap she could feel several joints pop back in place.  

Lazily reaching for May’s hand she pressed it firm on her bralette covered chest, fingers splayed wide. May let out a strangled noise body tense and blood rushing to her head. Her posture relaxed a little when a deep and loud rumble vibrated from Aro’s entire torso.  

Penny tensed. Nearly feeling her Aura surged to several systems. Particularly her visual analysis, which was for some reason searching out May’s reaction, and her incomplete sensation of touch.  

May took her hand back, signing back to Aurora. “Okay, okay. The goat can purr.” Aro gave a tired and crooked grin, ears wiggling slowly and lethargically. Penny allowed her leader to slide her onto the couch.  

“Shall I get ready now or make breakfast first?” Xanthic translated this time.  

“Get ready now.” May said, her signs stressing ‘now’. Aurora laughed, grabbing the baggy shirt from the armrest and walking up the stairs. Penny noted how May’s eyes traveled Aurora’s form, lingering where the shirt barely covered her bare thighs and boy shorts. Winter’s gaze was similar to Penny’s brushing across her neck and chest.  

Once out of sight, May practically collapsed over the couch. She had a hand over her chest. Her heart must be beating hard, trying to spread her blood across her body instead of just pooling at her cheeks, ears and neck.  

“I’m dead. This had to be a dream.”  

“I don’t think the dead can dream,” Penny said a little slowly. Her commentary was usually interpreted as ‘snark’ rather than facts. But Winter and Ciel laughed so Penny didn’t mind too much.  

“Considering how tame that was it’d consider it a nightmare.” Xanthic called from the kitchen. “You’ve been crushing on her for what? Five years and not even fucking in your dreams?”  

“I don’t know it definitely had that softcore porn vibe until you interrupted,” Ciel said, her dry tone-  

“Wait, what?!” Penny asked. She felt her circuits nearly frying. Her general knowledge included basic sex education. Basic. Between human men and women. For analytical reasons she was able to recognize signs arousal and simulation but her processors struggled to directly link her own actions to intercourse.  

It was easier when she remembered how flush May was. With new context her processes suddenly rewrote May’s lingering gaze as ‘hungry’ and Winter’s hands on Aurora changed to possessive. Then dominating.  

“Oh.” Penn took a deep breath, trying to cool down her power unit. Her temperature was slowly increasing to dangerous limits. Luckily Winter handed her a glass of water and she gulped it down. Penny will have to do more research… Perhaps she’ll request Aro to make her one of those backdoor Scrolls.  

Morning classes was a little difficult to focus on. As students of the Accelerated Program their schedule was altered to focus on their strengths and smooth out any weaknesses. Team APCX was smart, as a team their academic scores passed most fourth years so they focused heavily on combat training, Grimm studies, and military vehicles and other equipment.  

Physical Conditioning was in their morning routine. While the other students try their best to regulate their behavior around Aurora and Xanthic, they prefer to completely avoid them locker rooms. They were too intimidated by the pair, even if their civilian lifestyle meant their bodies weren’t as tone.  

Those brave enough to share the same row of lockers as Team APCX were also controlled enough not to stare. Unlike Penny who took far too long to change. Her eyes constantly wandered to Aurora.  

“Soo,” This time Aro held Penny’s stare. She crossed her arms under her sports bra, “Any other Faunus related curiosities I can satisfy?”  

“I think I’m legally obligated to stop you two from fucking,” Xanthic said in her usual dead drawl, “It’d be unfair to May.”  

“Blatantly ignore the actual law in front of your Officer teammate,” Ciel scowled. She then looked at Penny and Aro. No matter how hard Penny tried to focus her gaze on the floor her peripherals kept her alert to any movement. “Serious request, no more softcore porn.”  

“You two should fuck if that’s where your mind goes. They were being completely appropriate,” Aro laughed. Her voice was loud and ringing in the locker rooms. Penny was vaguely aware of clothes shuffling and metal clacking against metal as lockers closed. “Hold on, I got another Faunus secret to show off.” Aro pushed off her locker and walked towards the more populated area in nothing but her sports bra and boyshorts.  

Ciel and Xanthic sneered as there were some shocked noises. A gasp of surprised and louder slamming lockers. A few of the shyer students hurried out of the locker rooms.  

“Hey Neon.”  

“Good morning Aro! How badly did you piss off General Ironwood to get Conditioning in the morning.”  

“As bad as you, it seems.” Aro laughed. “Can I brow your nunchakus?”  

“Of course- Oh! Are you gonna show them your freckles!!”  

“… It was a surprise.”  

Neon Katt came around the corner, dragging Aro behind her. Unlike Team APCX she was partially change for a military work out.  

“Fun fact! A lot of nocturnal Faunus,” Neon stressed, eyes on Aro who only rolled her glowing ones in return. “And some other types have a secondary coloring only visible under UV and neon lights!” She cracked her nunchakus, a bright purple light imitating out, then held them to Aro’s skin. Under the violent glow bright blue and pinks dotted her cheeks and down her neck. Further down there were intricate… patterns across her chest…  

Penny had to focus really hard on the scientific mysterious to keep her hands from wandering. It was easier to put them in nonsexual context when Neon shined the glowing nunchakus on her torso. Her pattering was large sports that grew into large planes. It wasn’t as intricate or bright.  

“Wow, that sure is interesting to my cybernetic eyes,” Xanthic drawled. Neon and Penny giggled as the hacker finished dressing for class. "I’ll wait outside and stall if you idiot take too long with the anatomy lesson."  

“You seriously need to get laid,” Neon taunted. She slipped her shirt completely on and following her out. “I’m sure Ivori would-”  

“I’m like 20… Wait I think 21. Find someone older.”  

Their chatter slowly faded among the crowd. Ciel held her Scroll to her locker, and was satisfied when it clicked closed. She left and Penny focused on changing, trying to keep her eyes forward even as her partner waited patiently.  

“No more Faunus questions…” Aurora’s teasing tone drifted off. She closed her eyes briefly, ears shifting around out of habit as she focused her senses through her aids. Penny paused, waiting for her to continue and was a little startled when her hand was suddenly on her abdomen. Her processors struggled with the input. The area wasn’t as vulnerable as organic ones but it wasn’t a common area to be touched. Perhaps May had a point about inappropriate touching and asking permission.  

Aro to lean in and splay her hand wide across her artificial skin. The pressure she applied gradually increasing, glowing eyes watching her hands. Her artificial skin didn’t give as much as organic ones…  

“Penny, there is no one in the else in the room.” Aurora whispered. The tone was tense. Her power unit slowly leveled its output, the simulators mimicking serotonin gradually stopping. For a moment. Aro’s hand brushed a completely flat surface.  

Organics had belly buttons.  

“How much of you is metal? Is… is this why I never see you eat anything solid?”  

“That’s…” Penny struggled to answer. Aro lifted her hand off her and took a step back. Her head and brows tilted with worry. There were so many protocols it choked her from saying what she wanted. “That’s classified.” Penny said. Pain flickered across Aro’s features before Focus could hid it. Penny never saw her ears pointed so low and she never wanted to see it that way again. Aro sared at her for a few moments before nodded and leaving the room quietly.  

Penny took a breath and rested her head against the cool metal locker. She stopped all thought that wished for the impossible, such as the simulations that weighed Winter and Aro’s reactions. Penny knew May would be furious. The Happy Huntresses would steal Elm’s rocket launcher and shoot it at General Ironwood.  

Penny slapped her cheeks and focused.  

Her next test was the Vytal Festival a few months away. Perhaps if she does well Ironwood would feel safe and confident enough tell Winter…  

Neon and Aro was already on the track, stretching. This time Harriet was able to join them, adjusting settings to randomly create hard-light obstacles or even rotate the individual tracks backwards or forwards.  

Ciel and Xanthic were doing more general body conditioning with Flint and Ivori. As Accelerated students they were privileged to the more advance training equipment but also had higher expectations. She could see Xanthic eye the panel their instructor was using to set up the usual suicides run and weights. Ciel elbowed her partner, a warning glare to not hack the technology.  

A loud explosion signaled the start of the speedster’s race, plus Aro. For once the mechanic was leading right from the start. Harriet seemed to struggle to catch up, her semblance needing a warm up to reach top speeds.  

For those with well-conditioned bodies and above average strength, Atlas Academy decided to focus on strength and Aura. Penny and Kobalt went through their usual warm ups at their own pace. Penny did it to blend in at first, but found that it helped her Aura and power unit prioritize and optimized her systems.  

Her conditioning consisted of maintaining high Aura concentrations to bolster their physical bodies and further increase their offensive and defensive capabilities. Kobalt was skeptical of Penny at first. But after the first day of taking metal fist to her sides with little damage to her Aura levels he looked at her as a challenger. The rest of team FNKI and APCX were worried. That expression slowly stopped after the first few days but sometimes Ivori or Ciel would stare a little long. Aro adjusted much slower.  

“Aah, fuck!” Her face slammed right into a hard-light barrier and she stumbled back. Neon laughed, passing her and taking second. The mechanic didn’t get up right away, instead looking at Penny with guilty eyes.  

Penny looked away first and focused on her Aura before each impact from the robot’s fist. She tried to ignore the several blast that rang out from the track. After defensive conditioning, Penny’s next exercise was continuous Aura control. She’ll push a heavy block of metal, only unlocking the gears that bolt it down when her Aura level was at the threshold. Below and it would lock. If it was below for too long the block would slowly reset and push Penny back to the starting point.  

By the time their hour and half Conditioning class was done both Teams were exhausted.  

“I hate it when Harriet joins,” Neon mumbled as they walked into the lockers. “All we do is run!”  

“My legs are on fire…” Aro mumbled. This time Aro wandered directly into the showers, not bothering with her clothes or even closing the stall as she stood under the cool stream. It hissed angrily at her augments, cloud of steam quickly filling the showers.  

Penny stared at her for a moment. Normally she would gather her clothes and slipped into another stall, opening her own vents and letting the cold water chill her systems. But Aurora really pushed her prosthetic this time. She was able to overtake Harriet twice. She even in regular sparing it would overheat. While not on literal fire, the temperature could be dangerous.  

“Would you like some assistance in removing your prosthetics?” She asked.  

“No softcore porn!” Xanthic said. Some students chuckled softly, too exhausted to be shy. Neon let out a whistle.  

Aro didn’t reply or respond.  

Penny looked closer. She didn’t see the blue glow of her eyes through the steam. She tried to calm the protocols that instantly went to the worse scenario. Her tired Aura seemed to awaken again, energy suddenly flooding her system. It ramped up, as Penny took a step for closer observation. She barely saw any glow from all of Aurora’s cybernetics and augments. She definitely could hear it humming loudly over the shower- Aro’s body suddenly buckled. Penny watched as all power in her legs flickering off.  

“Aurora!” Penny lunged forward, catching her. Her footing slid across wet tiles and she slammed with unfamiliar weight pressed on her. Penny took a sharp breath. The metal prosthetic really was at a dangerous temperature, even for her. She quickly adjusted to make sure her artificial skin didn’t melt. “Aurora!” Penny laid a hand across her forehead and pulled her hand back. The horns around her head was the same dangerous temperature, even when it was directly under the cold spray.  

“Move!” Xanthic shoved Neon and a few random students aside. In the hacker’s hands was Aro’s Scroll and red flashing warnings. “Agh! That idiot overheated- Neon! Get some medics!”  

“R-Right away!” Neon was out of the room, a rainbow trail lingering behind her.  

“Don’t!” Penny quickly stopped Xanthic from reaching out with her bare hands. “It’s too hot.” The hacker’s solution was to slip off her shirt, taking the extra time to thoroughly soak it in the water before wrapping it around the cybernetic legs.  

Penny felt around Aro’s skull for that hidden button for her aids. She ignored several warnings about temperature or how all her senses felt numb. She struggled to trace the cybernetics to a familiar spot she’d seen Aro press down on before. She didn’t flinch at the hot steam blowing in her face when she finally found the manual release.  

Everything was oddly numb but focused. Her own senses narrowed down to the single stall and Aro’s breathing. Every so often Xanthic’s voice would pierce the fog but Penny moved without conscious thought. Her hands felt around Aro’s thighs without order. Pressing on the manual release when she barely felt the seam.  

She murmured an apology, automatic and flat as Xanthic scrambled away from the steam. Penny released the other prosthetic and the hacker kicked the metal into another stall and turned the cold water on it. Penny was about to carry Aurora out but Xanthic stopped her.  

“Penny!” It took a few yells of her name for her to focus. Xanthic’s expression was nearly grounding. It was too conflicted, too concern to calm Penny down but it was enough to get her to listen. “Her… both of our augments are deeper than they look.” The hacker confessed.  

Penny braced the women against her own chest. It slowly turned into a hug. She faught the instinct to hold her tighter. She could barely differentiate Aro’s breathing from the spray of water. She knew a tight grip would only do more harm so Penny focused on what she could feel. Aro’s steady heartbeat against her own Aura wild chest.  

That grounded Penny. Xanthic pressed a well-hidden button at the base of Aro’s neck. After holding it down for three seconds, several slits along her skull but mostly her neck opened and vented out more steam.  

Aurora let out a low groan that rolled and vibrated through her chest. Physically Penny relaxed. She adjusted her hold on Aro to angle her better under the cold water. Internally she felt ready to combust herself. Fear driving her systems so hard they temporarily malfunctioned and now her processors were trying to fix corrupted or missing data. Penny dropped her head onto Aro’s shoulder. Her skin was much cooler now but still a dangerous 106 degrees.  

The last conscious thing Penny remembers is watching the medics lay a soaking wet yet still feverish Aurora Glade onto a stretcher and pushing her away. Harriet gave Penny a look that barely held any guilt. “Team APCX will be notified when she wakes up.”  

Her high cognitive functions didn’t return until lunch. She remembered a few hours after Aro feinted, Xanthic was called to assist in something regarding Aro’s technology. As Xanthic’s primary supervisor Ciel was forced to follow. Penny took notes throughout her classes with no real attention to what the instructors were saying. True to routine her body automatically wandered to the mess hall but Penny stopped. Without her teammates she had no reason to enter and pretend to be organic.  

“Salutation Penn!” May’s voice called out. Penny turned around to see the Huntress approaching her. She found herself burying her face into her shoulder, the pressure somewhat relieving the Aura building behind her eyes.  

“Hey, hey,” May gently whispered to her. Her hands rubbed up and down Penny’s back attempting to calm her down. “Aurora will be okay. She survived the journey from Menagerie to Atlas and several White Fang assassination attempts. She won’t die from her own augments.”  

Penny buried her face deeper into May’s shoulder and nodded. She knew it was an unreasonable feeling but her protocols, processors, no line of code knew how to rationalize the fear and worry. Instead the same thoughts looped as if it would answer herself. What if her overheating cybernetics caused permanent neural damage? What could she have done to prevent possible said damage? How much metal Aro had hidden under the surface? Then Xanthic’s suspicions of experimentation-  

Her thoughts clouded her analysis and kept spiraling until May pulled her into an unfamiliar area of the Academy. The dorms. APCX was one of the few teams that didn’t live together or on campus. Xanthic’s home was slowly becoming their usual base of operations but everyone also had their own places to retreat too.  

In the elevator May pushed the button for one of the highest floors. When it stopped she popped the ceiling open. “By the Brothers,” She chuckled, “Winter was right, they still haven’t fixed this yet.”  

“Where are we going?” Penny asked.  

“It’s a surprise!” May said as if it was a suitable answer. She easily jumped through the hatch and offered Penny a hand. The metal women tried smiled and a pretended to accept her help. The elevator shaft looked a little unkempt, with a large panel missing in between floors. Before them was an open crawl space dust and cobwebs caused May to hesitate long enough for lock on the elevator cable to open and it slowly lowered.  

“Ah, fuck!” May jumped into it and Penny followed after. Luckily the pair didn’t trip on each other. They barely had enough room to walk normally and getting tangled or pressed against each other would be uncomfortable for May. The Huntress pulled out her Scroll, illuminating the crawl space for herself.  

“Ugh. I remember this place being a lot bigger.” May muttered. Due to the thin space she occasionally bumped into her. Penny grabbed her hand and held onto it. It was a numb feeling and she wasn’t sure why she did it until May squeezed back and flashed her a small smile. Whatever locked Penny’s systems at minimum finally lifted enough to at least try and recuperate May’s efforts.  

“Can I get hints to where we are going?”  

“Depending on what you ask.” May answered.  

“Is it a restricted area?”  

May laughed, “Of course! Those make the best hideouts.”  

“Is it… surveillance?”  

May’s grin turned a little wicked for a moment, “Nope.”  

“Does Xanthic know about it?”  

May winked, “I’m the better spymaster.”  

Before Penny could ask any more question they reached the end of the crawl space. May carefully pushed the wall, trying to slide it up out of it slits. It took four tries but it eventually popped out and she slide it aside. She had forgotten it was in the middle of the day. Her internal clock had told her lunch would be finishing soon and she should be making her way to Military Machinery Operations class. She deleted the internal reminder and adjusted the aperture in her eyes to filter less light in.  

May stepped out onto a hidden platform, shadowed by another overhanging piece. The view was unobstructed by other buildings. While it wasn’t at the very edge of Atlas, it was tall enough to get a view of Mantle below and the white snow of Solitas that stretched around for miles.  

“Welcome to the… uh…” May’s boisterous voice quickly lost steam. Her cheeks flaring pink again.  

“I believe Robyn called it the Dove’s Nest-”  

“Winter!” Penny gasped and ran out. She stopped short of throwing herself onto the Specialist. Winter gave her a tired smile and relaxed into the misting white fur of her summon. This time an Alpha Manticore. It lounged on its side, completely at peace with being used as bedding for two. “Aro…” Her Faunus was curled at Winter’s side, eyes closed and those soft sleeping purrs rumbling from her.  

“Woah, slow, Penn.” May said quickly grabbing her shoulder. Penny didn’t even notice she was running again. She slipped her hand back into Penny’s and they walked closer. Aro was in a hospital gown, back completely bare but lower body covered in her boyshorts. Penny didn’t get a good look at her earlier, with all the steam and water obscuring her vision. Right now Aurora looked a little flush, skin a little damn… like she was recovering.  

“Is she doing better?” Penny asked.  

“Ideally,” Winter said with a frustrated sigh. “The hospital was making her… restless. So I took her here.” May let go of Penny’s hand and laid across the Manticore’s back and wings to reach Aro. She pressed a hand to seemly clammy skin. Winter glanced back at Penny who didn’t take another step. She smiled gently, completely free of the image she needed to maintain on military grounds. It reached her eyes. It didn’t have a literal glow like Aro’s but it did seem to light up, “My summons are completely under my control. Perfectly harmless unless I wish otherwise.”  

Penny couldn’t help the skeptical twitch of her nose. The Specialist always sent constant waves of white Beowolves at her during training. Winter laughed at it, soft and light. The sound and sight of May with Aro melted Penny’s guard enough to approach the usually dangerous beast. Her self-improvement codes told her skin contacted optimized her ability to performed under emotional stress. She mildly wondered if the Manticore would fulfill that odd requirement.  

Penny slowly reached out. At first the Alpha Manticore didn’t feel like anything. Just a cool pressure against her hand. Then slowly her processors adjusted, focusing on the tingling cool against her skin. Still very faint. “It’s… soft and cold. Oh!”  

The Manticore took a deep breath, pushing firmly against Penny’s hand and letting out a growling exhale. Aro jumped a little startled. She immediately calmed seeing May’s face and barely looked around to see Penny or Winter. A happy but high pitched purr came from Aro as she learned back into May’s hand.  

“Morning, doll.”  

May didn’t answer but smiled, a light blush dusting her cheeks. With her eyes close and no aids communication was limited to sign and writing. May grabbed Aro’s other hand, fingers tracing words onto her palm.  

“I feel… hot. Dizzy. Headache.” Aro’s words slowly started to slur. May jumped over the Manticore, settling next to Aro. The mechanic immediately curled up to her chest. “I’m okay. Tell Penny I’m okay.”  

“She knows,” May murmured, writing the words onto her skin.  

Penny walked around, taking Aro’s previous spot next to Winter. Once against the cool furs Penny nearly drifted into sleep mode. Her Aura was pushed during training and her simulations and processers kept burning an excessive amount of energy as well as-  

“Penny,” Winter gently called out. Her hand slipped into hers and gave a tight squeeze. The pressure paused the spiraling line of through. “Are… are you alright? Xanthic and Ciel informed me that we you a little… despondent. After the accident.”  

Penny looked at May and Aurora. Her eyes kept wandering end of her form and the abrupt end at the nubs instead of the usual prosthetics. She frowned and looked back up at Winter, “I was so scared…” She did everything right and it might have not been enough. It wasn’t a problem she could fix. “I couldn’t-”  

“You did well and prevented any permanent damage.” Winter quickly interrupted. “Xanthic and Dr. Pietro are drafting upgrades. The problem was a faulty part from my father’s company.” She practically hissed out. The Manticore let out another growling exhale along with several other frustrated twitches. Particularly its tail, which hit May and Aro. The two grumbled, voice a little scratchy with sleep.  

Penny giggled watching the pair try to adjust into the Manticore again. This time Aro was more awake and restless. She’d whine and wiggle, elbowing May several times. With a tired groan May propped herself up and pet Aro’s hair slowly lulling the deaf women back to sleep. Winter and Penny giggled. The Manticore responded with slight jerks.  

“If you wake her up again I swear…” May scowled at her. Aro grumbled and complained, a bunch of slurred noises and not any real words. She did manage to nuzzle May’s hand, pulling it off her hair and pressing a kiss her wrist. All fight immediately left May. It looked as if her flight instincts kick instead. Though she didn’t move with Aro curling against her.  

“Sleep, doll.” Aro murmured, pulling May back down.  

Penny settled back into the soft furs of the summon. Slowly sleep mode turned power consuming functions. Combat analysis and Floating Array was set to standby. Those thoughts that kept her alert, ready to respond slowly faded. She watched the sky, content to listen to Winter’s giggle and May’s soft groans.  

“You should have kissed her back.”  

“Shut up. It’s not that easy.”  

“Oh?” Penny glanced at May who seemed to fidget under both their gazes. Kissing seemed like one of the easiest actions a Huntress could do. “It takes at least 2 muscles to kiss someone. 23 or 34 for more rigorous types.” May let out a panic noise, a little strangled as she was forced to restrain herself or wake Aro.  

“I-I’m not. There’s a time and place and heavily drugged and sedated isn’t it!”  

“Five more years won’t be the right time either.” Winter said. She settled on her side, half propped up to talk with May. Idly her thumb continued to brush the back of Penny’s hand though her grip slipped into a comfortable position and strength. “If you’re that much of a prude ask her out first.”  

“Oh that’s rich coming from a Schnee.”  

“I’m deaf but I can feel you idiots talking.” Aro loudly grumbled. “Go the fuck to sleep.” May grumbled and complained, up until Aro suddenly propped herself up. She pushed May’s back firmly against the Manticore and hovered over her for a few seconds. “Fucking. Sleep, Marigold.” Then she practically collapsed onto her chest. May dropped an arm across her eyes, face a vibrant red. Winter hid another giggle behind her hand and completely relaxed against her summon.  

Penny closed her eyes. Her low Aura levels and safe environment triggered Sleep mode, primary systems entering a low performance state and easing cognitive thought to the bottom of the power list. Power to her sensors was cut, limiting Penny to just her sense of touch and hearing. She couldn’t feel the soft Manticore fur or the cold it gave off, instead she barely registered Winter’s hand in hers. The soft purrs from Aro was temporarily hidden by May’s deep breaths, a little shaky from how hard her heart was beating. Sometimes she heard Winter and May but couldn’t truly process what they were saying.  

Oblivious relations: 4. Useless Lesbian: May Marigold. Penny Polendina.  

Error: System corrupted. Invalid analysis detected.

[whitleyschn33]

What do you think of Ironwood x Willow pairing? Even if they don't get married do you think Ironwood would try to be a more "fatherly figure" to Whitley?

I don’t really have strong thoughts on Ironwood x Willow, but I’ve seen some really cute art of it that I liked, so I would say that I passively ship it? Like, I wouldn’t go out of my way to look for art of it or read fanfiction for it, but if I came across art or fanfiction for the pairing, provided it’s well done, I’d probably smile and nod and go with it. I can’t see it working well in canon until Willow’s had a long time to recover from her previous marriage - it wouldn’t be fair to either of them to go into a relationship while Willow is still dealing with Jacques’ influence - and I’d honestly much prefer Willow have already had time to reach back out and at least begin to rebuild relationships with her children. Ultimately, Willow’s relationships with her children are what make her most compelling as a character for me, so I’d rather focus on that before any kind of romantic relationship.

TL;DR: It’s cute, but I wouldn’t want to see it until a long time after Jacques, or as an AU.

As for Ironwood and Whitley, I can’t see Ironwood actively trying to fill the fatherly role in Whitley’s life, but I can see him just wanting to be a good role model in general (no pun intended), and be a positive male influence for Whitley (cause Lord knows he needs one, desperately). Spectralscathath in a post I reblogged recently pointed out that Ironwood is the only person we see be civil to Whitley, and that hit me like a slap in the face with how true that is. Weiss started her first conversation with him with hostility in her voice, Jacques either ignores or yells at him, and the less said about RWBY and Co., the better. Ironwood, on the other hand, is perfectly civil and even jokes with him - yes, I’m choosing to count the dining table conversation as a joke, or at least banter. He clearly knows how to interact with young teens (he does run a combat school), and he gets along with Whitley despite their differences in opinions.

(On a tangent, something I noticed about the dining table thing is that Whitley is absolutely right about Ironwood’s party size. Ironwood has brought himself, Winter, Penny, Qrow, the Ace Ops, and RWBYJNOR for a total of 17 people, unless I’m forgetting someone again. The dining table only has 16 chairs. Ironwood’s party alone has more people than can fit at the table, never mind the other council members and Robyn. Yeah, I know that only 4 of Ironwood’s group actually enters the room initially, but most of the people he brings don’t need to be there. Presumably, the only people that are going to be needed are the people actually at the rally, Ruby, Ren, Penny, Marrow, and Nora, Clover as Marrow’s commanding officer, maybe Winter just as backup for Ironwood, and maybe Qrow as the closest thing Ruby has to a legal guardian here (I have no ideal how Remnant legal systems work, though). The rest of the cast honestly has no business being here, and considering most of them do nothing (hell, I forgot multiple times Qrow was even there when counting the group), there’s no benefit to most of them being here either. Okay, tangent over)

So, for Ironwood and Whitley, despite the rockiness that would probably come from Whitley’s side, I could see Ironwood doing his best to try and form a good relationship with him and be a good role model. Ironwood has been shown to be good with children, and that absolutely extends to his treatment of Whitley. With enough time, reflection, and bonding, I could see Whitley eventually coming to consider him family. Perhaps not a father figure, since Whitley’s only experience with fathers is Jacques, but something close to that - a positive male figure in his life that he can respect and feel close with.

Thank you for the ask! I actually would have had this up sooner, but the first time I tried to write a reply, my computer crashed and I lost it.

Have a good day, and stay safe!

[tahnex]

Road to Graduation

Hi, so this is the first chapter of a new RWBY fic. I’m stuck in quarantine with time on my hands, an idea, and decided screw it, let’s write a RWBY fic. A very quick bit of background, this is canon-compliant until after the Volume 7 finale, then it goes its own way. The first two chapters are mostly setting the scene and giving some background for the following story, so apologies if they’re a bit long, and a little heavy on dialogue and exposition, but there’s a fair bit that needs to be explained.

(Also the title is currently temporary, I’m pretty bad at titles and this was the first idea that came into my head that sounds decent enough).

Anybody who wants to be like a beta reader or give any reviews or anything is REALLY welcome to do so! I don’t have one at the minute, so it might be a little rough around the edges. Any, click below for the actual chapter!

It’s been a month since they fought Salem. A month since Ozpin had taken over Oscar’s body and, with a little help from Ruby’s silver eyes, wounded Salem enough to force her into the Winter Vault, with Penny sealing it, and Salem, away. Tyrian had been recaptured and, whilst in a fury at Salem being sealed, was goading the Ace Ops with how many people he had killed in the fight, and accidentally let slip he’d also killed Clover. Robyn Hill had used her semblance on both Qrow and, under heavy restraints, Tyrian, proving Qrow’s innocence and his release. The CCT towers are slowly being set up again, and a message was sent to Vacuo to make sure they didn’t try to open the Summer Vault, along with a promise to Beacon that the Atlesian Military would send help to rid Vale and Beacon of the Grimm that were plaguing the city and old Academy grounds, including the Wyvern Grimm clinging to Beacon Tower. Once the two kingdoms worked together, and nearly the full might of the Atlesian military was brought to bear, the Grimm surrounding Beacon were forced back and Beacon returned to the way it was two years or so ago.

 Following that, a rather awkward conversation took place in Atlas tower, involving the now General Winter Schnee, Team RWBY and JNR, and with Professor Goodwitch on call from Beacon.

 “What do you mean our licenses were revoked?!” Yang slammed her hands down on the table.

 Winter sighed, “Former General Ironwood revoked your licenses when you declined to support his plan to save Atlas. I’ve…”

 “You mean when we refused to let him sacrifice the whole of Mantle and the people in it.” Blake retorted, glaring at Winter.

 Winter met Blake’s stare for a beat before continuing, “As I was saying, I’ve tried to reinstate the licenses, as well as issue you new permanent ones, however when he revoked the licenses he blocked all seven of you from being granted a license by anyone with Atlesian authority, including military and the council.”

 Ruby turned to the scroll with Professor Goodwitch on, “Professor? Is there anything you can do?”

 Professor Goodwitch’s voice came through the scroll, slightly crackly as the CCT system was not back up to its prior strength, “Atlas is the only country who can produce Huntsmen licenses without graduating at an academy. Without returning to an academy, completing your education, and then graduating, we cannot grant you your licenses.”

 At this nearly everyone looked crestfallen. “So, despite everything that’s happened, there’s nothing you can do? We helped to defeat Salem! Surely that should count for SOMETHING!” Jaune yelled.

 Professor Goodwitch sighed, “I appreciate your frustration Mr Arc, and the whole of Vytal is thankful for your assistance in defeating Salem…”

 “Not that they’ll ever know about it” muttered Blake.

 “Thank you for your comments Miss Belladonna, but considering the panic you all saw in Mantle and the amount of Grimm it brought, would you really wish that on the rest of Vytal when they learned of an immortal Queen of the Grimm that is trying to destroy humanity?” Professor Goodwitch replied sharply, “Even if she is sealed away, it would still bring panic and Grimm, leading to loss of life.”

 Blake looked down embarrassed and Yang glared at the scroll.

 “Back to your point Mr Arc, I’ve spoken to the council members in Vale, and informed them that your absence from all of the Academies was approved by Professor Ozpin before his death, and your recent efforts were part of an extended mission, watched over by Qrow Branwen. Fortunately, news of his mistaken arrest, which I WILL be speaking to you about General, did not reach Vale. I have convinced them that due to the success of your highly secret mission, your entire second year, for all of you, was passed.”

 “Is that really all you can do?” Ruby said quietly.

 “Yes Miss Rose. That is all I can do.” Even to most of the people in the room Professor Goodwitch sounded tired, and possibly even a little sad.

 Everyone looked at each other, slightly unsure of what to do or say until Ren spoke up “So what happens now?”

 “If you all still wish to graduate and become professional Huntsmen and Huntresses, you are welcome to return to Beacon to complete your training there, starting in your third year. I’ll give you until 5pm tomorrow to decide. Since the disaster of the last Vytal Festival the council is trying to keep a much closer eye on Beacon, so I have to tell them what is happening with you seven at their next meeting tomorrow.”

 Ruby looked back to the scroll “And if we refuse?”

 “Then you will not become legal Huntsmen and Huntresses.”

 There were a few moments of silence before Winter spoke up, “You can go back to your rooms now to discuss this. It’s the best option you have.”

 Taking her not so subtle hint to leave, the two teams left the room, but not before hearing Professor Goodwitch turn her attention to Winter, “Now, would you please be so kind as to explain not only why the hell you put out a warrant for Qrow’s arrest, but also why you then followed through with it?” Any further words were cut off by the doors sealing behind them. Ruby and Yang glanced at each other grinning slightly, they’d been on the receiving end of one of Professor Goodwitch’s scolding, more than once for Yang, and knew how bad it could be.

 It wasn’t long before they reached their rooms and split into their respective teams.

 Ruby and Blake sat on the beds, with Weiss and Yang taking chairs opposite their respective partners, Yang spinning hers round to sit backwards.

 “Well Ruby? What do we do?” Blake asked.

 Ruby looked to them all in turn, “What do you guys WANT to do? I know I’m the leader of our team, but I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to…”

 Weiss was the first to reply, “Personally, my vote is to graduate and become a Huntress. My only other option would be to take over the Schnee Dust Company, but I don’t want to do that, in fact I want nothing to do with it. I’m done with Atlas; Ironwood was the last straw.”

 Yang looked to Blake before facing Ruby “I don’t know Rubes, to be honest I’m not happy with the whole situation, if they do this to us now, what’s to say something else won’t happen again in the future? I’m not sure about returning to Beacon, but I want us to stay together as a team.”

 Blake looked at Yang directly whilst saying “I want to stay as a team, so I’ll follow you guys.” Yang smiled in response.

 Ruby looked down at the ground for a moment, “All I’ve ever wanted was to be a Huntress. To help people. If the only way to do that is to go back to Beacon and graduate, then I would do that. But being together as a team is more important. We got split up once before, that’s not happening again.” She looked at the time on her scroll “It’s getting late, we’ll sleep on it and see what we think tomorrow.”

 The others nodded their agreement and got ready for bed. Across the hall, JNR was having a similar discussion.

 “What happens now Jaune?” Nora looked to her team leader.

 “I don’t know Nora, I don’t know.” Jaune sat down on his bed heavily.

 “Me and Ren have nowhere else to go, we don’t have a family or home to return to, it’s just us three now. So, we’ll follow you where you go.” Nora looked to Ren for reassurance, slipping her hand into his, and he nodded.

 “Thanks you guys,” Jaune smiled at them both, “To be honest, returning to some kind of, I don’t know, normal life would be good you know? Finishing school and actually having something to show for everything we’ve done would be good. Plus, I could kinda do with a bit more training,” he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

 “Then back to school we go,” Ren said quietly.

  The next day they all met up in Winter’s office. Professor Goodwitch was on call from Beacon again, “Well, have you all come to a decision?”

 Ruby and Jaune looked at each other and nodded. The two teams had discussed it over breakfast that morning. “Looks like you’re going to have to put up with our team again Professor,” Ruby smiled.

 “And ours.” Jaune chimed in after Ruby.

 “Good. Pack your things, you’ll be on the next flight to Vale, it leaves tonight.” Winter nodded at them all.

 “Mr Arc? If you, Miss Valkyrie and Mr Ren could all remain for a moment, there is something we need to discuss with you three.” Professor Goodwitch said.

 Jaune looked at Ruby and said, “Go on, we’ll catch up to you.” Ruby looked a little confused but nodded and led her team out the door. “Yes Professor? What is it?” Jaune turned back to the scroll.

 Team RWBY reached their room and packed their things, Weiss double checking to make sure they’d left nothing behind, before heading to the landing platform, finding someone waiting for them. “Hey kiddo, looks like you’re hitching a ride back to Vale with me.”

 “Uncle Qrow!” Ruby sprinted to give Qrow a tight hug. “I was worried about you” Ruby whispered into his coat. Yang came up behind Ruby and gave her uncle a hug as well, whilst Weiss and Blake stood back a little, not sure what they should do.

 “I’m alright, just tired of this cold.” Qrow said, looking to the door as it slid open to reveal Winter standing in the doorway.

 “Weiss. Come here.”

 Weiss breathed out before turning to walk to her older sister. “Yes Winter?”

 They walked to one side of the doorway and Winter stood awkwardly for a moment before replying, “I’m glad you decided to continue your education.” They were silent for a moment before she continued “Now that Father is in custody, and will never touch our family again, I will…see what I can do to help Mother,” she motioned to Qrow with her head, “If that alcoholic idiot over there can drag himself to sobriety, I will see what I can do to help Mother achieve the same.”

 Weiss almost couldn’t believe what she was about say considering how he had treated her but… ”And Whitley.”

 Winter looked a little surprised at Weiss.

 “He was always closer to Father than us or Mother. He will need support as well. Especially as he is now the heir and will take over the company.” Weiss swallowed hard, wanting to say the words before she changed her mind.

 Winter looked solemn for a moment, “Yes, we all neglected him, and Father took him completely under his influence. I will try to help him as well, but I suspect Klein will be better able to help Whitley than me.”

 Weiss smiled at the memory of her friend and former butler and, seeing the members of Team JNR come out into the air said, “This will be goodbye then sister.”

 “Yes, it will be.” Winter nodded, before Weiss grabbed her in an impromptu hug. Winter hesitated for a moment before smiling slightly and returning it. “Try to write or call more often too.”

 “I will” Weiss smiled at her sister, before turning and walking back to her team.

 Qrow looked up at her arrival, nodded curtly to Winter, then turned, slipped his hands in his pockets and walked up the ramp onto the aircraft. Winter sighed, shook her head, then stood to attention as the others waved goodbye and followed Qrow up the ramp and back to Vale.

 Ruby lingered slightly before continuing into the aircraft, a little upset Penny hadn’t come to see them off, but the ever-energetic girl had left on a mission from Winter a week ago and wouldn’t return for a few more days. Sitting down with the rest of her team opposite Qrow and JNR she heard Weiss ask Jaune “What did Professor Goodwitch want to speak with you about?”

 Jaune looked slightly awkward and Nora a little cross, whilst Ren remained relatively impassive as always. “She said when we arrive, we need to go to her office and speak with her straight away, just the three of us. She didn’t say anything else.” Weiss and Blake suspected something wasn’t being said but decided that the others would tell them in time, and for now, all they wanted to do was lean back and rest. Just before closing her eyes to sleep Ruby noticed Qrow leaning back, eyes closed trying to sleep, but with a glimmer of green in his right hand.

   After arriving at Beacon, they all wearily climbed out the aircraft, Yang and Ruby giving long hugs to Qrow, before he walked off, raising a hand to say goodbye. The seven climbed up the steps to the main doors, not noticing there was someone standing next to Professor Goodwitch.

 “Salutations friends!”

[barra-cuuda]

So some interesting life stuff happened. Feel free to skip because it is long, personal and about the legal system and I’m writing about it because I’m happy and proud of myself.

About a year ago, I filed a wage complaint against my former employer for cutting my pay before notifying me of a pay cut, stealing my tips, not paying overtime, and not giving me my lunch breaks. They were really so much worse than that, though.

Basically, these people are wealthy and from a Western European country with much stricter labor laws than here in the US. They decided to open a business in California because the climate is similar to the Mediterranean climate they’re used to and they figured that it would be “easier,” to open a small business in the US. It’s cheaper and, again, more relaxed labor laws. However, they never bothered to even learn the laws before opening and chose to flat-out ignore them and play dumb when called out on their bullshit.

The tl;dr version is fuck these people. Here’s specifically why:

Among their long list of various OSHA violations, labor law violations, immigrant abuse, and general “not illegal, but that’s a dick move,” types of offenses: watching the surveillance camera footage at all times to nitpick mistakes employees made throughout the day, taking “mistakes,” out of the tip pool (which was somehow always a flat $60-80/week even though we’d make those kinds of tips per employee in one day), bullying a pregnant coworker and refusing to accommodate her medical needs during her pregnancy (literally saying that they didn’t care if she miscarried), and yelling at us for sweating while cooking in between a 450F cooking surface and a 350F waffle iron. They also basically trapped one of my coworkers into never being able to leave. She was from the same country as the owners, but her immigration status fell through when she divorced the American that she married. The owners paid her under the table and constantly held the income “they gave her,” over her head and blackmailed her into doing all sorts of awful, degrading shit. She said she couldn’t leave because the owners were “so kind,” to her and she felt that she couldn’t look for other work without risking getting deported. All the stuff I mentioned barely scratches the surface. I could write a book about all the shitty-ass bullshit these shitlords pulled. Again, fuck these people.

The pay cut they gave me was the last fucking straw. I filed that complaint against them and estimated that they owed me $2,000 at the very least.

While I did have some evidence, I didn’t have enough to feel confident about my case. I didn’t hire a lawyer, either. It was just me and my understanding of the law against the two owners, their lawyer, and the employee that they bribed into pushing their narrative. They fought dirty, too. They fabricated “evidence,” against me, falsified their business reports, and slandered my character. Favorite line from my fake coworker: “Who are you going to believe? A marine biology student with top marks at a prestigious university, or an uneducated low-life working a minimum-wage job?”

Some parts I felt confident about. The lawyer seemed to have very little understanding of what the complaint was actually about and he couldn’t provide any evidence that my pay cut didn’t take place in the way I described. He seemed panicked for most of the hearing. Any new evidence that I provided caused him to panic further. The labor commissioner conducting the hearing also caught everyone in their party in a few lies. But hey- if you tell a fake story and provide falsified evidence, it’s pretty much a given that the details won’t match up. So that was pretty tasty.

Other parts, I didn’t feel confident about at all. The sheer number of people telling the same story while I was the only one standing up for myself felt discouraging. Also, some of the evidence I had wasn’t the right kind. I couldn’t even provide some of the most damning evidence because of technical difficulties. I walked away from it deciding that I didn’t win the case, but oh well... at least I stood up for myself.

Well. Yesterday, I got an envelope in the mail from the department of labor. When I skimmed the letter, I saw “...you will find the enclosed check...” and my heart went “!!!!”

The department of labor awarded me with every penny that my former employer owed me.

Justice has been served piping fucking hot to these shitlord bastard capitalists, I can pay off my debts, and tonight, I dine on sushi with a cool $3,000 in my bank account.

It’s not quite enough to buy me a whole new life, but it’s pretty fucking close.

[lalalouie]

no offense but if I were a closeted millionaire white man in a relationship with my ex-bandmate I would simply not sign an illegal contract that forces me to fake the paternity of a child and force our family and friends to play along. rip to your version of louis, but i'm different

“Illegal” we’ve been over this 14 THOUSAND TIMES. WHO IS GOING TO PURSUE LEGAL ACTION ON THIS? Louis is the only victim here and going up against Sony and their endless resources is literally impossible. HOW HARD IS THAT TO UNDERSTAND? You want him to spend every penny he’s ever made on a years long legal dispute AND THEN come out with a lost lawsuit on the other side? Because that benefits him how exactly? He ends up broke and out of the industry altogether and we never hear another word from him.

How do you think lawsuits work exactly? He says “judge this is illegal, void the contract” and the judge says “you’re correct” and that’s the end of it? Are you 12? Have you never learned a single thing in your entire life about the legal system? What’s your excuse for not understanding the basics here?

Actually don’t bother answering because I genuinely don’t even know where this came from and I won’t engage further. Maybe you sent it to the wrong person, i haven’t said anything to prompt your ask. I shouldn’t have answered but I am having an allergic reaction to something and am VERY IRRITABLE RIGHT NOW and this was the perfect excuse to yell a bit. Thanks for the outlet.

[ky-the-squiddy]

I. The Will

He wasn’t even given any time to grieve.

Not that he really needed it. Everything was still numb, so Cash’s mind mostly spun on plans and preparations and knowledge of what needed to be done.

(It did not spin on the sight of broken bones through the gaps between balusters. He did not hear the heavy, wet, crunch of a head cracking on the floor reverberating in his head at all hours. There was no need to think about how his hands shook as he untied the taut string wrapped across the top of the stair, so he didn’t.)

The phone call not even twenty four hours after the police finally cleared the mansion was not unexpected, though Cash would be hard pressed to say if it were unwelcome or not. Either way, it was necessary. His father’s body would have joined his younger brother’s at the funeral home by now, and they both would join Cash’s older brother in the family crypt soon enough. He was the last one left. So this was necessary.

What was unnecessary was being made to wait.

The room was small, made smaller still by the dark oak panelling that lined the walls and the over-large, overstuffed lounge chairs that sat at the edges. He perched on the edge of one, hands clasped in his lap, muscles tense from being made to stay absolutely, perfectly still. Same as always. Same as the hours spent in this room when he was younger, hearing the muffled conversation from the next, fearing the furious and one-sided yelling that may erupt, fearing the inaudible muttering even more so. It was silent now.

The receptionist in the corner looked up at him, prompted by some unseen alert system hidden behind the panels around her desk.

“Mr Calwell will see you now.”

Cash stood, straightened his suit, gave the receptionist a nod of acknowledgement, and headed for the door. He did not take the deep breath he wished he could. He couldn’t afford to show his nerves, even out here.

The seats inside Calwell’s office were no less uncomfortable, the decor no less ostentatious. Lawyering pays well. Lawyering for the rich and amoral pays even better.

“Master Klimek. Thank you for coming.” Niceties. Cash could feel Calwell’s gaze measuring him up for what he was worth, and deeming it very little.

“I’m hardly a child anymore, Gregory. I had hoped to have grown out of that particular title by now.”

“My deepest apologies, Cashimeer.” No ‘Mr. Klimek’. Cash was unsure if Calwell’s returning insult made him feel worse, or better. “Old habits, and all that.”

“I quite understand. With… everything that’s happened recently… Clinging to familiarity is comforting.”

“Indeed.”

There was silence. Cash refused to break eye contact. After what he’d seen, what he’d done, he would not allow himself to be broken so easily. Everything he had left was on the line, and, now more than ever, he could not show weakness.

Calwell cracked first, breaking the tension with a clearing of his throat and a shuffling of papers on his desk. Cash did not allow himself a smile. He was in mourning, after all.

“But to the matter at hand. Regarding your father’s last will and testament, things have gotten… complicated. The last copy is more than a year old and left nearly everything to your younger brother. With Aleksii’s death, most of your father’s holdings have no one direct to pass to.”

Part of that was untrue. Cash had found Marinos Klimek’s actual last will buried in a drawer in the study three days ago. Assets had been divvied up between business associates, distant relatives, and golf buddies, without any mention of either of his remaining sons. Cash had known his own name wouldn’t be on it, but the lack of Aleksii’s had confirmed his suspicions that Marinos knew Aleksii’s death would be coming far sooner than the doctors had predicted.

It was unsigned. Undated. Unofficial.

It made wonderful kindling.

“As far as things look to pan out,” Calwell continued. “The Klimek estate and its assets will be absorbed by Antikythera Industries, and the ownership of said company to be divided up amongst the shareholders. Without specifics on how this should be done, there will no doubt be plenty of in-fighting, backstabbing, illegible legalese, and other such arguments over the carcass of your family’s wealth. As there’s no mention of you, Cashimeer, I called you here to give some… friendly advice.”

Calwell leaned forward, hiding the cruel smile on his face behind interlaced fingers. Cash could still hear it on his voice.

“Pack up. Leave. Avoid the upcoming, years-long legal tangle, and disappear.”

Cash’s finger tapped against the arm of the chair in a slow, calculating rhythm. His other hand cupped his chin and framed his face as he stared at Calwell, refusing to be intimidated.

When Cash didn’t respond, Calwell decided to throw in one last barb. “After all, Master Klimek. You’re an adult now, as you’re so eager to clarify. I don’t see why you won’t do just fine on your own.”

“What was the exact wording of the will?”

Cash’s sharp question made Calwell hesitate, the abrupt change in topic throwing him for a loop.

“Pardon?”

“The will. Regarding Aleksii’s inheritance, what was the exact wording?”

Calwell stuttered and fussed about with the files on his desk until he brought up a neat sheaf of paper. His eyes scanned over the paragraphs to find the right section and he cleared his throat with a neat cough.

“‘To my youngest son, Aleksii Josafat Klimek, I bequeath ownership of the-’”

A handwave from Cash silenced him. “It specifies ‘my son,’ which is the only important part of that piece of paper, as far as I’m concerned.”

“It also specifies your brother’s name, which most courts would consider rather more important.”

“Yes, but you and I both know, Gregory, that my father liked to keep things in the family. He went to extensive lengths to try and do so. As executor of his will, do you really think he’d be pleased to see the members of the board squabbling over something my family has spent generations building?”

“I know he’d be even less pleased to know that you gained control of things.”

Cash pursed his lips in irritation. As true as that was, he wasn’t going to admit it. “Why? I’m his son and heir, and the only one left at this point.”

“Perhaps. But… You and I both know, child, that Marinos never considered you to be either of those things.”

While the atmosphere in the room had been icy from the start, this was the comment that turned things glacial, with all the slow, inevitable destruction that implied. Cashimeer Klimek was not a killer. A murderer, yes, but not a killer. However, in that moment, he would have gladly shoved Calwell’s gold-plated pen through the man’s eyeball.

He could hardly have justified it as self-defence this time though, pre-emptive or otherwise. So he remained still and silent.

“As things stand,” said Calwell, smirking. “You are to receive nothing, and I see no reason to adjust things in your favour. I’ve given you your warning, whether you take the advice or not is entirely up to you. Good day. And I’m so very sorry for your loss.”

Calwell stood, the chair groaning against the floor as it slid backwards. He stuck out one arm, showing Cash the door.

Cash rose far slower, head bowed, hands tight around the arms of the chair. Once he was on his feet he made no motion to leave, only stood there silently, radiating a frost-bitten fury.

“Therese. Wilkins.”

“What nonsense are you spouting now, child?” Calwell shook his head and marched around his desk towards the exit, fed up with the conversation and ready to end it, but Cash persisted.

“Therese Wilkins. And Alana Dae. Two reasons you should reconsider, my dear Gregory.”

It was time for Calwell to turn icy too. “I don’t see why either of them have anything to do with anything.”

“You don’t? Then I would advise you to visit an optometrist, because you obviously can’t see past the end of your nose. You really think that neither Marinos’ sister nor Aleksii’s mother will try to claim the estate? You really think that neither of them won’t have stronger arguments than any members of the board do?”

“One’s married to a gambling-addicted wastrel and is too poor to afford an even halfway decent lawyer, and the other was divorced with such an iron-clad contract that there’s no way she’s getting a penny. I would hardly consider either of them to be threats.”

“Not alone, anyway.” Cash finally met Calwell’s gaze again. His eyes burned with destructive intent. If I go down, I’m taking you down with me, and as many of the fat fucks on the board of directors who line your pockets too.

Calwell was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, it was slow enough that Cash knew he was hiding a tremor.

“Child, if you are implying what I think you are…”

“My name. Is Cash. Cashimeer, if you must. Not Master Klimek. Not ‘child’.” Cash spat the word out with all the venom of a cobra. “I am legally recognised as Marinos Klimek’s only remaining son, and as any true lawyer would agree, that title carries weight. Especially considering the wording of my father’s will.”

Cash advanced towards Calwell, using his considerable height to loom over the man. Calwell refused to cower, but the handful of extra inches meant that, no matter what, Cash looked down on him.

“I will do the first half of what you suggested, yes. I will take what I can and I will leave. And then I will return, with Therese and Alana and an army of lawyers in tow. Blood is thicker than water, and anyone who knew my father knows how much he believed in that. You want this thing to be drawn out? Then so be it. Just know that by the time it is done, every one of your clients will know how ready you are to sell them out. And I wonder how well your little business will do then?”

By the time Cash finished his little speech, he and Calwell were chest to chest. Cash’s voice had gone low, taking on a borrowed tone he was used to being on the receiving end of. Well, no more. It was effective, so he’d use it himself.

Calwell’s expression was well past dawning and was instead in the late afternoon of horror. But he did not speak. He did not break eye contact. He knew the moment you looked away from a tiger was the moment it pounced.

“However…”

There was a subtle shift and Cash no longer loomed. His voice grew lighter, but only in the way that iron is lighter than lead. Calwell let his lungs risk a breath again.

“I would be willing to reach a compromise,” continued Cash.

“O-oh?” said Calwell.

“Indeed. Shall we sit?”

Cash stepped back and gestured towards the chairs. There was no comment on the insult of Calwell being invited to take a seat in his own office. Soon enough they had resumed their positions as if the insults and threats had never been traded.

“Now,” began Cash. “I’m sure you can figure out what I want. I want what is entitled to me by the Klimek name. The estate. Ownership of Antikythera. The money, the heirlooms. Everything that the will states would have been left to my brother, down to the very last dust mote in the attic.”

“I hope you realise how difficult that will be do organise without outside parties having their own complaints.”

“Of course. But we will deal with those issues when they arise. You are a very good lawyer, after all, and I have faith in you, as my father did.”

“And what about my side of this ‘compromise’?”

“You get paid.”

Calwell opted to give Cash a withering look rather than responding. Cash pretended not to notice and continued.

“What I mean to say, is that you continue to get paid. Your firm remains the one the Klimek family uses, and with the ruckus that will be kicked up after people wait a tactful amount of time after the funeral, you will get plenty of business from me indeed. Enough that a pay rise might even be considered. If certain other clients of yours decide to whine about… other plans… Then you simply need to show them the will. It’s obvious enough to go from one interpretation to another, is it not?”

Calwell eyed over Cash for several more seconds before finally responding. “You’re asking me to do a great deal for very little reward other than what I’m already owed. If this is the sort of business practice you put in place then I can’t see you doing too well with your would-be inheritance.”

“In fact, my dear Gregory, I’m asking you to do your job. Because I will make sure it is mutually beneficial. It’s hardly an unfair deal.”

“And if I don’t ‘do my job’?”

“Then I find someone better to do it instead. The most basic business strategy you can find.”

The calculating gaze aimed at Cash told him everything he needed to know about Calwell’s current thought process. He was revolted that this man, this child, this mistake in front of him had manipulated him so easily. But Calwell was not the type to let a grudge over a freak of nature interfere with the obtaining of money, and a steady job offer that shouldn’t involve too much paperwork after the first month or two was not to be sniffed at.

Cash was already smiling even before Calwell nodded.

“A sound plan, Mr. Klimek.”

The terrified moment it took for Cash to process the name was hidden by his languid movements as he moved to shake Calwell’s hand. Firm grip. Dry palm. Not too warm, not too cold. A slight nod, and maintain eye contact throughout. Practiced perfection.

The conversation rambled into legalese as Calwell discussed plans and intentions, informing Cash of the true extent of the Klimek family holdings. Cash nodded and hummed his assent throughout. He’d known all this already, studied every inch of his family’s records late into the night in an attempt to impress a man who never saw him more than an unwanted thing. But if it helped Calwell regain some semblance of footing in this new business relationship, then Cash would play along.

Eventually they both stood, shook hands once again, and Cash turned to leave. Before he could reach the door, Calwell spoke.

“You’re your father’s son for sure, Cashimeer. It’s a pity he could never see that.”

Cash gave a beatific smile as the barbed praise jabbed into his chest and settled deep, sinking into a pool of blood of its own causing.

“My dear Gregory, I’m much, much more than that.”

And with a respectful nod, he was gone.

When he arrived home the mansion was empty. The staff dismissed, no guests to be heard, and no presence lurking in his brother’s bedroom or his father’s study. Cash would be hard pressed to say if he enjoyed the silence or not.

He went to his room, shucked his coat, carefully hung it back in the wardrobe and finally sat on the edge of his bed. It was only then that he let his muscles truly relax, rather than the disciplined rigour of professionalism or the carefully crafted languid posture of casualness. The shaking started almost immediately, with hot, fat tears falling onto his hands not long afterwards. No attempt was made to brush them away.

After all, he was in mourning.

[hedgehoggery]

An Unexpected Reunion

So I woke up from my alcohol-aided slumber on Friday night to produce a very typo heavy note telling myself to write a particular kakayama AU that I guess I had dreamed about lol. Anyways here’s the first chapter from that. It takes place in the late 80′s/early 90′s in a questionable neighborhood in New York City. Everyone’s favorite Plant Boy has grown into a full-fledged Plant Man, and our silver-haired hero is a tutor for an after-school gifted and talented education program designed to keep kids off the streets of their bad neighborhood. 

Word Count: 1161

Chapter 1

Yamato looked around his shop and smiled. All the saplings were lined up in neat rows by type: fruit trees, flowering trees, shade trees, and more, and the mingling scents created an immense sense of calm that Yamato felt he’d never before experienced.

He sighed, content. The smell of the trees was the only real home he’d ever known. Growing up in the foster system had been tough on little Yamato, but the brief escapes he had to the city parks and, once, the forest a few hours outside the city, had held his fracturing psyche together. Now, finally an adult, Yamato was free from the legal bounds of the foster system and had poured every last penny of his life savings into opening this, his very own Tree Nursery.

Everyone who knew him had said it was a stupid move - an 18-year-old couldn’t possibly hope to build a successful business for the ground up, not to mention a tree nursery in the middle of the city! But with each passing month that Yamato didn’t fail, his doubters became quieter and quieter until they had finally stopped altogether. They hadn’t quite reached the point yet where they changed their tune into one of support, but Yamato figured the silence was the only acceptance he needed.

Jingle jingle.

The door to the shop opened and an elderly couple walked in. Yamato walked around the counter to greet them.

“Good morning!” He smiled warmly at them. “How can I help you?”

“Good morning, young man,” the wife began. “Our neighbors recently decorated their balcony with fruit trees and it looks stunning! I never knew trees could thrive in a potted environment, and I’m quite envious of the aesthetic the live plants bring to their apartment. They told us they bought their trees here.” Yamato could hardly believe his ears. A recommendation from a satisfied customer!! He felt the urge to jump around the shop and dance wildly, but forced it down.  

“Yes, ma’am, I have several options for your potted fruit trees. Come with me and I’ll show you.” He guided the couple towards the lime trees he had sold the previous customer and, after very minimal convincing, sold them three trees.

“Thank you for your business!” He called out to them as they left. He heard the wife murmur something about a “nice young man” to her husband as the door shut behind them and smiled. Success felt closer with every happy customer.

____

“Hey, pay attention when I’m talking to you, Naruto!”

The orange jumpsuit-clad teen jumped, dropping the pencil he had been attempting to balance on his upper lip. Kakashi stared at him with his most menacing expression.

“Ehh, sorry Mr. Kakashi,” Naruto said. Kakashi sighed and shook his head before addressing all three of the teens sitting in front of him.

“As I was saying, a friend of mine has set up a basketball league for kids in Shinobi GATE like yourselves, and I think it would be a good idea for the three of you to sign up. Lord knows you need something to waste your energy on.” Kakashi had directed the last sentence directly at Naruto and, as if taking it as a personal challenge, the teen jumped up to stand on his chair and thrust his fist into the air.

“Alright, basketball! Sakura, Sasuke, let’s join the team and show everyone else in GATE who’s boss!” The other two teens sighed.

“No thanks, I’m not interested in stupid things,” Sasuke said.

“Yeah, I’m not sure my mom will let me join,” Sakura echoed. “She already says I spend too much time away from home.”

“I’d really like all three of you to join,” Kakashi repeated. “You need to exercise more than just your mind. You may be GATE students, but you’re all really lazy. At least think about it.” He checked his watch. “Anyway, it’s five o’clock so you all need to get going. Be safe on the way home and I’ll see you tomorrow right after school.” Sakura and Sasuke pushed out of their chairs as Naruto leapt down from his.

“Hey guys, let’s stop on the way home and get dinner or something!” Naruto said.

“I wish I could, but my mom will kill me if I eat before I go home,” Sakura said, dodging the arm Naruto was trying to throw over her shoulder. Kakashi didn’t miss the expression of dejection that shot across Naruto’s face, but it was only a second before he lit up again.

“How about you, Sasuke? Come on, let’s go eat!” Sasuke sighed.

“With you?” Naruto nodded enthusiastically, seemingly oblivious to the insult in Sasuke’s tone. He sighed. “Fine. I don’t have anything to eat at home anyway.”

“Hey, Naruto, do you even have money for dinner?” Kakashi asked skeptically. Naruto pulled out his wallet.

“Ehh… not really,” he admitted, pulling out three one dollar bills. Kakashi sighed and pulled out his own wallet, producing two tens and handing one to each teen.

“There, make sure you eat something with vegetables in it,” he said.

“Thanks, Mr. Kakashi!” Naruto yelled, running out of the room.

“You know he’s just going to buy ramen, right?” Sasuke said. Kakashi shrugged. Sasuke sighed and followed after Naruto.

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Kakashi!” Sakura waved as she followed behind the two boys. Kakashi shook his head affectionately as he watched them leave. It had never been in his plans to be a mentor in the Shinobi GATE program, but plans hardly ever went as expected and - he hated to admit - he was actually somewhat enjoying helping the kids. He had grown up in this neighborhood himself and he knew how tough it could be.

He gathered up his belongings and started walking towards his apartment. The air was cool - winter was just turning to spring - and he pulled his ever-present scarf up to shelter his face from the wind. A faint odor on the breeze caught his attention - a familiar scent, but one he hadn’t smelled in so many years. It smelled almost… woodsy. Kakashi sniffed the air and found the source of the mysterious odor, a shop across the street. The sign above the door offered him no clues as to why it would provide the familiar scent - “Yamato’s Nursery” meant nothing to him. Before he could realize what he was doing, he found himself jaywalking across the street to find the source of the scent.

Jingle jingle.

The door played a cheery tune as he pulled it open and stepped inside. He looked around, confused. A… tree shop? He chuckled. That would certainly provide a woodsy odor. A surprising pang of disappointment flooded Kakashi’s stomach. It was just trees, but it had seemed so much more… familiar…

“Kakashi?” His head shot up. That voice, that voice which so unmistakably matched the familiar scent, it could only belong to…

“Tenzo. It’s certainly been a while since I’ve seen you.”

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Viridian Vanguard (Part 20)

As Yang had warned, the line at the Pits’ administrative desk moved painfully slowly. It seemed that every number that was called was for a huge team that needed to form a secondary line as they signed and vetted their paperwork in batches, an individual who was missing some important document or other bureaucratic hang-up, or a counter had suddenly closed, and just wouldn’t seem to open again.

The take-a-number holo chimed, Weiss looked up, back down at the number in her hand, before she groaned. “This is taking forever...” she whined as she stuck it back into Pyrrha’s jacket pocket, then pulled the garment around her again. “How can this system be so slow and inefficient...?”

“Welcome to paperwork for the rest of us!” someone quipped as they headed up to the counter.

The standing crowds began to shift as folks found seats, curses and yelling erupted as others were stolen by particularly sneaky and agile individuals. Someone looked pointedly at Weiss as he put a hand on a free spot on a bench, she shook her head. The Fae shrugged, and took it.

“Oh come on!” Yang shouted as she knelt on the ground on all fours.

Weiss ignored her and continued sitting on her back, calmly readjusting her legs.

Some time later, Pyrrha returned from her trip to the “Grub Hub,” carrying a single shake. “I’m back!” she said. “I’m sorry it took so long, it looks like the breakfast rush is already here.”

“Just hand me my shake, please,” Weiss said as she held out her hand. Pyrrha did, Weiss took a sip out of it, and immediately perked up. “Mmm! This is actually pretty good! How much was this?” she asked before she took another drink.

“180 Shinies.” Pyrrha replied.

Weiss nearly choked on her drink. “WHAT?! How does the Pits expect to charge so much for this?” sheasked, looking at her cup.

“Primary business tactic,” Yang explained. “Cheap entry, jacked up everything else. That’s part of the reasons they can afford to pay us so well, by the way, so I wouldn’t be the most vocal critic of it, if I were you...”

Weiss sighed, and sipped some more of her shake, enjoying it a lot less than earlier.

Just ten minutes after six, their number finally came up. Having already read through the terms of their contracts, and briefed on any issues through holo-chat earlier in the week, all they really needed to do was personally affix their signatures on paper copies, alongside giving their fingerprints, and additional hard evidence that they were actually there at the Pits when the documents said they were.

<Is blood needed?> Weiss asked sarcastically as they seemed to near the end of the list of proofs.

<If you wish,> the clerk replied in all seriousness, reaching into his desk, and pulling out a small knife wrapped around a clean cloth, glass vials, and a box of bandages. <The Pits never says ‘No’ to additional security.>

Weiss paused, staring at them, before she said, <I was joking.>

The clerk looked mildly annoyed at that as he put the items back into his drawer.

Eventually, the newly registered Furies left the counter, each with their own personal duplicate of their copyright, contained inside complimentary waterproof, fireproof, and reinforced tubes, complete with a leather-covered chain that they could use to tie it around their wrists or waists.

“This seems a little excessive for copyright,” Pyrrha said, feeling the weight of it all in one of her hands.

“It is once we rise up the ranks, and our name starts to be worth something!” Yang replied as she tied her duplicate around her wrist. “This is one of the easiest and most convenient ways to shutdown anyone trying to take advantage of our rep without our permission, like selling ‘official’ merchandise on the sly, so keep it somewhere safe, never forget where you hid it, and do not, I repeat, do not tell anyone else where it is.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you guys, it’s just that I’m worried about what certain unscrupulous folks will try to get all three of these babies, among other things.”

“So basically, treat this like criminal syndicates treat their real estate deeds?” Weiss asked sarcastically.

“Exactly!” Yang replied, pointing at her. “Anyway, that’s everything we needed to do in the Pits today! I’m going to go ask around and check out our competition, you guys can go do your own things now.”

“I’ll be watching a couple of live matches, then!” Pyrrha said. “Weiss, would you like to join me?”

“Maybe some other time, when I’m not as under-dressed,” Weiss said, looking down at herself. “I’m heading home, I’ll leave your jacket at the living room.”

“Alright, have a safe trip!” Pyrrha said, waving goodbye before they all went their separate ways.

Weiss returned to Keeper’s Grove, stashed her contract in her and Winter’s safe, then went down to her laboratory with Penny, working and checking on her ongoing projects, and practicing some useful skills, like how to make medicine with field equipment. Thanks to her collar, and Penny needing to stay plugged into the wall to after joining Winter on her night shift, almost everything went by at a snail’s pace.

On this particular day, Weiss didn’t mind, enjoying the peace.

Then, by ten o’clock, she got a message from Yang: “We’ve got trouble heading straight for the Grove in 15 minutes. Look decent, put your game face on, and make sure to bring either Dad or Penny with you to the road leading to the Tube station.”

Weiss tried to send her a reply, but Yang’s comm-crystal was already set to “Do Not Disturb” mode. She sighed as she took her hands off the magic oil press she was using, and muttered, “Well, this doesn’t seem ominous and menacing at all...”

“Would you like to me to ready my defensive measures, Weiss?” Penny asked. “If you carry me to the meeting location, I’ll be capable of doing one or two stunning blasts before shutting down for lack of power, but that should be enough to help you get away to safety.”

“Don’t bother,” Weiss said as she began to take off her working gloves and mask. “With Yang and Pyrrha, I’ve already got more than enough protection if things get ugly.” She noticed her loaner runeblade as she hung up her gear, before she shook her head and headed out without it.

“It’s not like I’m going to be able to do much with it, anyway...” she thought to herself.

It turned out to be the right decision as Yang, Pyrrha, and a trio of female Fae she’d never seen before also came completely unarmed, even if the atmosphere was far from friendly. With Penny in her hands, Weiss stepped up beside her friends, and checked out the strangers.

The one in the center was was a stockily built tamaraw Fae, an impressive set of V-shaped horns extending behind her head. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, and was so angry that Weiss could clearly see the puffs of hot air coming out of her nostrils.

The one on her left was a slender chicken Fae with a prominent crest of obnoxiously bright, neon green feathers styled like a Mohawk, the prominent talons of her feet making her seem even taller. She gave them all the evil eye, the decorative spikes and crystalline skulls on her clothes and accessories gleaming as ominously.

The one on her right was a meerkat Fae, much smaller and younger-looking than her companions; she seemed just as pissed as the others, but her being just as tall, if not shorter than Weiss ruined any sort of intimidating quality she had.

“Who the hell are those?” Weiss whispered to Yang.

“Big one’s Keren, tall girl’s Vigne, tiny gal is Sayuri,” Yang whispered back, eyes still on the trio.

“And why exactly do they all look like they want to kill us?”

“Because they’re not too happy we’ve got their old team name now.”

Weiss blinked. “Wait, did we steal it from them?!”

“We didn’t steal shit!” Yang snapped at Weiss, her eyes suddenly fiery red. She stopped herself, and took a deep breath, her eyes turning back to normal. “Look, I’ll explain the entire situation later, just let me do all the talking with them while you and Pyrrha stand by my sides and look tough, or just make it seem like they don’t bother you at all, alright?”

Weiss turned to Pyrrha. “We have the evidence overwhelmingly in our favour, don’t worry,” she said as she patted her duplicate, still in its tube and tied to her waist.

Weiss sighed, before she moved up to Yang’s free side, and scowled at the original Furies’ direction.

Yang took Penny from Weiss’ hands, and whispered to her, <Dedicated recording mode, multi-angle shots. Turn up the footage quality and sound sensitivity high, too, I don’t want any ambiguity if this gets messy.>

<Affirmative,> Penny said, before her tail and her ears started transforming as she hovered up between the two groups, looking like a fuzzy camera drone with auxiliary lenses, and an external sound receiver.

Satisfied, Yang stepped forward and threw her arms out. <Alright: we’re all here and ready! Lay it on us, sister.>

<Do you think this is funny…?> Keren snapped. <Get your laughs fucking us locals over?>

<On the contrary, we’re dead serious!> Yang said, holding up her duplicate. <So serious we put down money and our names on it.>

Keren stomped her hoof in the ground, hunching her shoulders as she clenched her fists. <Give it back—now,> she growled.

<You can’t demand someone to give back what you didn’t own,> Yang said calmly. <I checked several times, both on the Codex and at the Pits in-person, and have the saved and dated proof on my comm-crystal saying your copyright to our name expired at 6AM today!>

<And you think you could just steal it from right under our noses?!> Keren bellowed.

Yang’s eyes flared red again. <We didn’t steal shit!> she roared. She clenched her fists and took several long, deep breaths, before she continued, <All we did was wake up early, and stand in that line, with all our documentation in order and our Shinies ready, the same, legal process we would have done if we were going to lay claim to any other name.

<We did nothing to stop you, lie to you, or try to sabotage you in any way, nor did any of us even know who any of you were until you cornered me from out of nowhere, looking like you were about to gang up on me!

<As a matter of fact, it’s your fault you didn’t renew your copyright when you still had the exclusive right—two months before expiry, if I’m not mistaken?>

Sayuri faltered for a moment, Vigne and Keren maintained their composure. <Things happened,> Keren said quietly.

<And I’m sorry to hear that, but that still doesn’t change the fact that we were well within our right to take the name for ourselves, according to the written rules and regulations of the Pits,> Yang said. <If you three find you can’t follow those, then maybe you should all think about careers elsewhere...?>

Keren fumed, thick plumes of hot breath jetting out of her nostrils. <And maybe you three should start learning the unwritten rules of the Pits, especially since two of you fucking soft-skins can’t even understand the language they’re in!>

Yang looked like she’d just been socked in the face, her eyes flaring red and her hole body tensing up. <Look, what the fuck is it that you three want?!> she yelled. <We own the copyright from now till next year, and we have a shit ton of hard evidence to back us up! Even if you do take your beef to the honours, I am willing to bet a mountain of Shinies that they every single one of them will reject you, then charge you up front for wasting their time, trying to enlist their help to win a case that was already lost before it started!>

<Well, it’s a good thing we’re not doing that!> Keren barked, before she looked to her companions in turn. <Vigne! Sayuri!>

<On it!> they both cried.

Keren dramatically stomped both her hooves as she hunched forward and bared her horns, Vigne flapped her wings and scratched the mud beneath her with her talons, and Sayuri lunged and hissed, showing off her sharp teeth and her claws.

<We, the original Furies hereby challenge you to a duel, where the winner gets the copyright to the name!> Keren shouted. As one, the three of them dramatically pointed, and cried: <Do you all accept?!>

<Hang on, I gotta translate and consult with them first,> Yang said, before she turned her back to the original Furies.

Keren roared in frustration and started stomping about, Sayuri spluttered and fumed in confusion and anger, Vigne flapped her wings again, this time trying to calm them down and keep them from charging forward.

Yang, Pyrrha, and Weiss ignored them all as they huddled up.

“I take it the three of them are challenging us to a duel, to try to win the right to use their name again?” Pyrrha asked.

“Our name, but otherwise, that exactly, yeah,” Yang said.

“Do we really have to entertain this?” Weiss asked.

“Yes.” Yang replied.

Weiss groaned. “Ugh, please tell me you’re kidding...”

“I sincerely wish I was, Weiss, but the potential damage to our rep is just too great,” Yang said. “Even if we took our name fair and square, there’s no way folks are going to interpret our rejecting their challenge as anything other than our being too scared to fight them, or wanting to personally insult all three of them by implying they’re so beneath us we don’t even think it’s worth our time to fight them—not a good look for a brand new team, especially one that hasn’t even had a single official match in the Pits yet.

“First team impressions and reputations stick with a fighter, even long after they’ve left the group and gone on to new teams or fly solo, we have to get this right.”

“Please tell me we can at least set the conditions and the date.” Weiss said.

“We can, it’s our right as the challenged party, don’t worry,” Yang said. “The only things I have to insist on is that it be a completely vanilla, best 2 of 3 rounds toss-up, with a third-party judge and spotters, while being recorded and live-broadcasted on the Codex—ideally, the fight’s in the Pits, too.”

“Can’t we just have it at the training grounds again, with Ren and Nora officiating, and the others spotting?” Weiss asked. “All of that sounds ridiculously expensive.”

“I second that.” Pyrrha said. “We’re all down a great deal of shinies from all the fees, and it’ll be a long time yet before any of us ever see a paycheck from this, let alone that much money.”

“We’ll see if we can’t convince them to pony up the costs themselves, then,” Yang replied. “They definitely already have the dough to spend since they were supposed to register today, and it’s not like we need to spring for the fancier arenas, or high-ranking staff.”

“And if they say ‘No’?” Weiss asked.

“Then we can try to convince the Pits to make it a real, official bout, sell tickets, and HQ live-feed access and recordings to make up the costs, maybe even get a share of it if we can convince enough folks to get on board with sponsoring it.

“So with all that in mind: are we in agreement that we’re going to accept the challenge?’”

Weiss sighed, and said, “Yes… I always figured at some point I’d have to sell off pieces of my dignity to pay off my debt, anyway...”

“I’m so sorry, Yang, Weiss, but I have to say no.” Pyrrha said sheepishly.

“What?!” Yang spluttered. “Why?!”

“Will you look at her?” Pyrrha asked, pointing at Sayuri. “Even if it is legal for me to do so, I can’t willingly harm a child!”

Yang nodded. “Yeah, now that you say it loud, it would be a pretty shitty thing if we beat the crap out of someone half our age, even if she was willingly participating in a team match-up...”

“And that’s only occurring to you now...?” Weiss asked.

“Sue me!” Yang cried, throwing her arms up. “I’m used to the Valentino Underground, and trust me, shit got fucked up down there! Anyway, you want me to ask if they’ll agree to a 2v2? We’ll probably have to make it their choice who goes up against who, though.”

“I’d like to take that risk if you neither of you mind,” Pyrrha said. “I really don’t want that weight on my conscience.”

“I’m good with it,” Weiss said.

“And so am I,” Yang said, before she turned back to the original Furies. <Hey! You guys mind if we do it as a 2v2, your pick on who goes up?> she shouted.

<And why the fuck would we do that?!> Keren shouted back.

<Pyrrha here doesn’t want to fight Sayuri, says she doesn’t want to beat up a little kid!>

Sayuri’s eyes widened. <Little ki--?! I’M FIFTEEN, DAMN IT, I’M ONLY A FEW YEARS YOUNGER THAN ALL OF YOU...!> she screeched, so sharp and shrill everyone had to cover their ears.

<OW! FUCK! SORRY, FORGET THAT WE ASKED!> Yang shouted.

Sayuri stopped screeching, before she sharply spun around, and sulked.

Yang turned back to Pyrrha. “She’s actually 15!” she said loudly. “Since you’re fine with fighting Ruby, is it back to a 3v3?” she said, holding up three fingers on each hand.

“Yes!” Pyrrha replied, alongside a thumbs up.

Yang turned back around, and said, <Alright! We accept your challenge! Let’s shake on it, and start hashing out the details!>

The two teams met in the middle and started negotiating, Penny acting as witness. After finding a suitable date for all three of them, setting the terms, and convincing the original Furies to cover most of the costs of the fight (if extremely reluctantly), they sent the necessary requests and downpayments to the Pits.

<Don’t you dare bring anything less than your best, alright?> Keren snapped. <I want the whole realm to know why you don’t fuck with the Furies.>

<Ditto that, especially the rep!> Yang said, smirking. <Should really help us get off the ground, what with the stigma we carry.>

Keren started to rumble ominously, before Vigne put a hand on her shoulder and led her and Sayuri off.

“Is this going to be the first of many folks challenging us to a fight for one reason or the other?” Weiss asked flatly.

“Definitely,” Yang said, nodding. “Don’t worry though: we can definitely afford to be a lot more selective with our future fights once we win this.”

“Don’t you mean ‘if’ we win this?” Pyrrha asked.

Yang chuckled and smiled. “Aw, c’mon, Pyrrha, have a little more faith in us Furies, will ya? Fights are won before they start, after all!”

[nyarmand]

All right, time for a little lesson in the law.

‘Homicide’ refers to the taking of a human life. The word itself comes from the Latin ‘homicidium’, which in itself comes from ‘homo’(man) and ‘caedere’(to kill).

There are three general categories of homicide, at least within the United States: murder, manslaughter, and justifiable homicide. Now, homicides can be placed into other categories--for example, the ‘felony murder’. I’ll talk about that in a different post as it’s a very interesting subject on its own, but has too much to get into here. But the ones widely recognized are the aforementioned main three.

Now, justifiable homicide is exactly what it sounds like. It isn’t really a legal charge, since it’s justifiable--you can’t prosecute someone for it. It’s a classification and one that can be used as a defense against a murder or manslaughter charge. A homicide can be considered ‘justifiable’ if, for example, it was committed in self-defense. Legally, a soldier or police officer killing someone is also usually declared justifiable except in particularly egregious cases. (This is not to say that this is the correct way to go about things; it is simply the way things are at the current time. Do not confuse legality with morality. That is a common mistake to make, but also a very dangerous one.)

On to the actual potential charges.

Murder comes in several sub-categories as well. You’ve probably heard people say things like first- or second-degree murder. Those are actually very crucial differences.

Second-degree murder is what happens when someone is killed without the requirements for first-degree murder(I’ll get into that in a minute). For example, a ‘crime of passion’ might be considered second-degree murder--the typical example of a crime of passion is someone coming home to find their spouse in bed with someone else and killing them in a fit of anger. In this case there was intent to harm and perhaps even kill, but it was not a planned event. The death sentence is typically not an option for those who have committed second-degree murder, but they can still receive life imprisonment or another harsh sentence.

First-degree murder has three requirements: willfulness, deliberation, and premeditation. You may also hear the term ‘malice aforethought’. Whether that falls under the original three requirements or is considered something else entirely depends on jurisdiction. 

Willfulness essentially means that the killer had the specific intent of killing. Note that that doesn’t necessarily mean killing the victim! If someone intends to kill but ends up killing the wrong person or a random person, that’s still considered willful and does not disqualify them from having committed first-degree murder.

Deliberation and premeditation is essentially that they took time to think about it. It doesn’t mean that they had to have an entire planning session; deliberation and premeditation simply must occur before, and not at the moment of the killing. That’s what differentiates a crime of passion from first-degree murder--someone who commits a crime of passion acts in the heat of the moment. There’s a reason that people say someone killed ‘in cold blood’--it means that they were in control of their faculties and knew what they were doing, as opposed to acting without thinking. Someone convicted of first-degree murder will usually face a very harsh penalty; they might receive life imprisonment or even the death sentence.

There are exceptions to these categories, but they often depend on jurisdiction, as many laws do. 

Manslaughter, on the other hand, is what happens when a killing is not intentional. There is no such thing as an ‘accidental murder’--that falls under the manslaughter category, in which case the killer did not plan or intend to kill anyone, even in the heat of the moment. You may hear it called ‘negligent manslaughter’, ‘negligent homicide’, or other such terms. A manslaughter charge is usually the direct result of an accidental death caused by another person--for example, a drunk driver who strikes and kills someone would be charged with manslaughter rather than murder. Whether or not the killer has to be aware of the risk varies based on jurisdiction, as do possible sentences, but those convicted of manslaughter typically face much lesser charges than those convicted of any degree of murder.

[toysoldiers-rwby]

[CS] 1. The Rebels

Cutting Strings

Characters: Penny, Ironwood, Pietro, Aro Word Count: 5k

Penny is almost ready to leave the lab. But is she truly ready for how unpredictable the world can be?

Read on Ao3

NEXT

  Day 239 since creation. Day three since latest artificial skin tear. Three trials cleared.  

Penny waited as Dr. Pietro and General Ironwood configured the training room. She closed her eyes and bounced on her feet. Processors warming up for the trial to come, with a review of the previous ones.  

The second test was the easiest and soon breathing became second nature. Dr. Pietro and General Ironwood tested her strength. Several broken equipment later, they tested her control. That was the hardest to pass. Everything broke under metal fingers. Dr. Pietro had to make several alterations to the synthetic skin Penny wore. It was a complicated mix of Dust and wires that relayed Aura and pressure to her processors.  

The first test overloaded her systems. Too many inputs, too many anomalies. But strangest error was conflicting drivers…  

Penny realized it after the 5th prototype. Father didn’t design the artificial skin! No scientist, or official Atlesian scientist did! Ironwood was very hesitant and careful with his words whenever she had asked about it.  

Dr. Pietro smiled and said, “You’ll meet her… hopefully soon.”  

Penny frowned remembering it. Father said the last bit softly, as if he was whispering to himself. Like it was a secret from the General. But he couldn’t have forgotten her sensitive hearing. One that could detected a change in his voice, even if Penny did not know what it meant. Yet. It was similar to when Ironwood talked about the council.  

Was it contempt? What did it feel like?  

“Ahem. Penny, darling?” Dr. Pietro called out. A hand rested against her own and Penny opened her eyes. Her background processors did tell her someone was approaching but she was too focused on internal questions.  

“Is the last trial ready?”  

“Yes but… is something on your mind?”  

“Is that possible?” Penny asked with wonder. “The mind doesn’t take physical form so-”  

“No, no, darling,” Dr. Pietro chuckled softly. He let her hand go after softly patting it. “You seemed to be thinking hard about something.”  

“Oh!” Penny perked up, “It’s about who created this artificial skin. Does General Ironwood not want me to meet them? If they are capable of adding functionality or upgrades wouldn’t it be more productive if they know what I am?”  

Dr. Pietro was silent for a moment. Penny saw his eyes flicker, small twitches in his face before everything smoothed out. He let out a long and tired sigh, “I guess brains run in the family.” He muttered. She noted soft whispering seems to be personal so she didn’t comment on how brains don’t have the functionality to run. “I tried convincing James but… there are other factors at work.”  

“Hm…” Penny nodded. It wasn’t answer but she was satisfied with the attempt. For now.  

Penny entered the training room. Hard-light shaping the room into one with random short square. Up in the control room, Penny could see the unique silhouette of her father and his chair next to Ironwood. They talked briefly before the General’s voice came through the speakers.  

“Penny, your final test is a combat test. Your goal isn’t just to destroy the bots, it’s to show me what your made of.”  

She frowned, head tilting and raising a brow. “But sir… You already know what I’m made of.”  

There was a moment of silence. Then some soft chuckling through the speakers. “Show me that you are combat ready.”  

That lit a spark in Penny. She grinned, swords flaring from her backpack. “Yes, sir!”  

Side panels opened an Atlesian Knight-130 marched into the training room. They were… stiff. Mechanical. She looked at her own hands for a moment. Opening and closing them. The artificial skin detected her fist, hide the ball joints. Everything looked natural…  

Penny looked forward, “Ready, sir!”  

The AK-130 opened fired and marched forward. The bullets were easy to deflect with Floating Array and it took little effort to slice them open. She took a moment, looking at the sparks and wires…Then next wave AK-130 marched forward, opening fire. It was wasn’t a challenge. They were predictable. Her own programming was far beyond what the AK line could simulate.  

2, 3, 4 waves later and she looked to the control room. Penny saw two additional figures before the speakers on the AK-130 crackled to life.  

“Security Breached-”  

“Uh! Ignore that!” A stranger’s voice quickly said over intercom. “I have full permission to alter their program this time!”  

“This time…” Another women softly muttered with a snort.  

For a moment the AK-130’s guns lowered. Then several in the rear broke out into a sprint- Penny gasped. Flanking maneuvers were beyond this current model. Her instincts moved Floating Array in front of her. Spinning blades slicing bullets. Two bots ran left. Two running right. Three marched forward, a constant burst of bullets.  

Penny retreated back. Floating Array shifted into guns and boosted her into cover. That was her intention anyway. She technically didn’t need it-  

“Oh!” A bullet bounced off the hard-light structure. Penny stepped behind it. There was a conflict in her programming. There was a 100% chance of success in standing her ground and fighting, a 20% she might get hit. But… she wasn’t scared. So what if she got hit? Her chassis can withstand more pressure than the bullets can create. Yet was just something telling her to protect herself.  

But she was not in any real danger.  

The flanking robots appeared first, only to be shot in half. Floating Array spun around her. Red and faint smoke caught her eye. She had charged it too fast. With a small frown Penny shifted it back into her swords. Jumping out of cover she sent them flying forward, piercing the remaining three robots.  

After that the waves blurred together. No breaks. Just an endless stream. The bots grew more and more challenging. From basic flanking maneuvers to militant sacrifices and distractions. Sometimes her own AI struggled to find a satisfying solution and it left her frozen on the battlefield. Then the bigger guns came out.  

The Spider Droid.  

It dropped in front of her from the ceiling. Metal tiles broke under its feet, a small explosion of sparks, wires, and broken metal. Penny blinked up at it. That didn’t make sense. General Ironwood would never allow such a dangerous-  

The cannons charged.  

Penny stood her ground, stance widening as Floating Array charged for another attack.  

The intercom crackled, the two strangers bickering despite the General’s presence.  

“Are you crazy!? That will kill her!”  

“Ironwood said not to hold back!”  

“Of course an Atlesian wouldn’t understand consequence! Shut it down or-”  

Penny gasped. The cannons fired before they were fully charged. Floating Array pushed her back, firing at the ground just avoiding the attack.  

“Glade! Get back this instant!” This time Ironwood’s voice rang through the speakers instead of being muffled through thick glass. A few seconds later the doors of the training room opened. A women with familiar yet unfamiliar gold horns skated in on hard-light blades that cut into the metal floor. She was in the Military’s Database, but file came up. Not an ally, not another soldier, a student… A civilian.  

What was the General doing? Why was she in this facility?  

Penny frowned. “Ma’am. Please evacuate.”  

The goat Faunus paused, staring at her with… an expression. One Penny have never seen in the labs, with her father or General Ironwood. Brows furrowed, mouth in a small scowl, head tilted. Did Faunus express themselves different? Penny filed it away for later. Right now a flash of alarm came over the Faunus features.  

“Move!” In a burst of bright red and purple she was suddenly carrying Penny. Metal talons of the giant security bot pierced the floor where they both once stood.  

Her metal frame was nearly five times stronger than the floor. Without reinforcing it with Aura. “Your assistance is not necessary!” Penny frowned struggling against a surprisingly tight hold.  

“Glade!” The General’s voice came from the speakers again. It was lower, hard. Her programming instantly recognize it as commanding and furious. She didn’t like it. “Do not interrupt Ms. Polendina’s combat test.”  

“Not happening Tin Man!” The women yelled back with a roll of her eyes. Glowing Eyes… Civilians don’t normally have their semblance unlocked. Penny heard a soft sound of metal cutting metal and looked down. The hard-light blades barely floated above the surface, then it dug deep stopping the drift. Purple glow and weightlessness despite Penny’s high density? Gravity Dust, Penny concluded with a nod, and a very skilled, non-civilian usage of it. “Besides, you seriously thought I’d just stand by and watch? What does my record say?”  

*“Technically Glade doesn’t have a record because she was found innocent of all the 43 charges of assault. Or she was assisting legal Huntsmen, so there for it wasn’t assault.” The hacker’s voice playfully informed.  

Glade huffed, glaring up at the control room. Then those glowing blue eyes shifted to Penny. “Want to shut them up?”  

“I… I…” Penny froze. Her processors didn’t know what to make of Glade’s tone or grin. Part of her said not to follow the advice of a women with a possible criminal record. But this situation was an anomaly her simulators could never mimic. Curiously eventually won but Penny’s caution didn’t fade. “Possibly. What do you have in mind?”  

“Teach that Atlesian what consequence means.” Glade suddenly dodged back, eyes not leaving Penny even as several shots followed her. The women easily dodged them all. “The main cannon is on cooldown! We need to piss it off first!”  

“That is counterproductive to my goal!”  

Glade rolled her eyes. Much to Penny’s relief, the possible Civilian stopped blindly dodging and finally looked at the Spider Droid. Penny noted the glowing Dust in the women’s legs. It glowed a soft purple, as gravity gently lifted her off the ground again. Small debris floated until Glade drifted away.  

“Is it really a victory if it ain’t fun?” The non-combative asked with a wink. Penny frowned and didn’t answer. She allowed Glade to focus on dodging.  

Why would enjoyability of her mission override the results?  

The fight continued and with two targets the Spider Droid was more aggressive. Penny was more passive. She couldn’t take any drastic measures with an unknown variable on the field. She had to be more careful, more mindful of the synthetic skin hiding her metal frame. Worst yet she couldn’t entirely focus on the Droid. More and more processing power went to Glade, trying to predict her next move and analyzing the fastest way to help her.  

The Faunus women should be frighten. She had no weapon to defend against one of Atlas’ strongest military robots. Instead, the non-combative laughed. A glance at Floating Array showed no signs of overheating. She sent the blades as deep as she could get it into the Spider Droid’s chassis.  

Too deep.  

Penny gasped, pulling the strings but it didn’t budge. Glade jumped on, gravity Dust latching her onto the metal as if it was the floor. She pulled at the handle of the swords but that didn’t work either.  

“And victory goes to me!” The hacker laughed over the speakers. The main cannons started charging again. Glade cursed, kicking at the joints but the hard-light blades on her legs couldn’t cleave through the thick metal.  

“Jump!” Glade yelled.  

Certainly Penny didn’t hear right, “Jump?”  

“Yes! Jump!” Glade repeated. “As high as you can!” Penny jumped but didn’t obey the second command. That much force would break the floor. Of course the Droid’s targeting parameters means that the cannon followed her up. The Faunus ran off the barrel and waited a few seconds.  

The cannon hummed louder and louder, energy shining bright.  

Then Glade leaped off, lunging at Penny and grabbing her. “Oh shit,” Gravity pulled hard on both of them. Much harder than anticipated, with Penny’s mass. Penny barely had time to shift their positions, moving Glade on top of her as her robotic body created small crater in the floor, bending tiles up and causing broken wires to spark at her false skin.  

Beyond Glade, Penny saw the cannon aimed at-  

“The control room!” Penny gasped.  

“Off, off, off!” The hacker’s fingers scrambled across the keyboard. “I can’t-”  

Dad!  

Penny shoved Glade off her. She charged Floating Array for a full shot and aimed for the rear joints of its legs. It pierce through. The Spider Droid tilted back, impact just a few feet above the control room. Hard-light barrier flickering at the impact. The Spider Droid shut flickered, smoke coming from the joints as it overheated and shut down.  

It reminded Penny to take a deep breath. Her Aura was awake and sending nearly overwhelming power through her circuits. Emergency took priority over her own systems and they were on the verge of overheating as well. Penny slowly eased out of a battle stance. It took a while for her combat analysis to catch up and finally read the situation as a success.  

It helped that Glade was on the floor laughing. She had a hand over her eyes, “Goddess and Gods! I’ve never been more terrified in my life.”  

“And…” Penny frowned looking down at her. “You’re laughing?”  

“I’m alive, unharmed, rescued by a cute girl.” Glade listed. There was a quiver to her voice, almost smoothed out with a grin. Penny frowned down at her. Glade, the other visitor called her. “Where’s the negative?” Glade asked rolling onto her knees and pushing herself onto her feet- prosthetic feet, most of her legs were metal- with a long groan. “I’m out of breath. How do people do this?”  

“With proper training, one you rejected time and time again,” Ironwood answered through the speakers. Even as Glade made a face and attempted to wave away the voice. “Ms. Glade, Ms. Xanthic. Thank you for your… assistance. A transport will be here shortly to return you both home.”  

“Of course he’d want me gone as soon as possible. Can’t blame him,” Glade sighed under her breath. She gave Penny a smile as she walked… or floated- how much gravity Dust is on that women, to the door, “Nice to finally meet you!”  

Penny wasn’t sure if the feeling was mutual.  

When she returned to the control room. The two strangers were gone but they left small pieces of evidence. Coffee rings on the terminal, which all Atlesian military personal and student faculty knew not to do. Some bits of candy and scratch marks on the floors were proof that Glade was up here too.  

“Penny.”  

She stood at attention, eyes snapping back to General Ironwood. “Yes, sir?”  

“I apologize, I haven’t been completely honest with the final trial.” The General started, “It wasn’t just a combat test, but also how you would handle yourself in an uncontrolled environment, with… unorthodox civilians.” So General Ironwood… brought in a hacker and Glade because he knew and wanted them to disobey orders?  

“Gah,” Dr. Pietro scoffed at him, waving Ironwood’s concerns away. “What do you think of Glade, darling?”  

Penny paused, replaying footage of the fight. “She’s… good with Dust. Reckless.” Glade dodged without acknowledging the Spider Droid, "Very perceptive." She listed. But it didn’t feel right.  

“But what do you think of her?” Dr. Pietro gently prodded.  

Penny hummed, trying to turn off her combative protocols and focus beyond the fight. It was difficult. Her programing was confused, telling Penny a civilian wouldn’t run towards danger. “I don’t… understand?”  

“She ran out because she thought you were in danger,” Dr. Pietro corrected with a smile. Penny didn’t like the way it lacked the same muscles as usual. How it slowly sank into… something sad? “Glade is hotheaded and stubborn at times, but she’s brilliant. And deep, deep beneath it all, caring.”  

“It’s because of that brilliance she shouldn’t be sent on this mission,” Ironwood argued, but it had no real effort in the tone. “Though I suppose a personal connection with you Doctor, will ensure Penny’s success.”  

Penny frowned, staying silent until she was finally addressed again. Ironwood listed many cons against Glade and the hacker while her father gently persuaded that some of them were advantages. Her father was silent as the General emphasis that they weren’t trustworthy.  

Finally Ironwood sighed, “Penny.” She stood at attention again. “One fight doesn’t prove that you are ready for true combat, against the Grimm, against higher powers, but you have proven capable of fulfilling this duty.” This felt a little redundant but Penny didn’t speak up. She willed her processors to focus on what Ironwood was saying instead of comparing the list of pros and cons herself. How can a kind person be untrustworthy- “So we are sending you to the Vytal Festival.”  

“What?” Penny gasped. Her Aura flared a crossed her systems, giving more energy than she needed. She found herself bouncing, fist tightly clenched. “I’m going to Vale!”  

“And school,” Dr. Pietro added with a smile.  

At that Penny paused, head tilted in confusion. Anything she’d need to know about fighting Grimm could easily be downloaded. Studying was… an obsolete method to obtain information for her.  

“It would be suspicious if a student with your talents suddenly appeared at the Vytal festival with no public record. The other nations may try to accuse Atlas of cheating.” Ironwood said with a soft chuckle. “Ms. Glade is one of the possible teammates we have chosen for you.”  

“Oh! I think me and Ms. Glade will get along splendidly-” Penny cut herself off with a gasp. What did Glade say? Nice to finally meet you. They did call her brilliant- “Did she design the sensors in the Artificial skin?”  

General Ironwood frowned, looking at his right arm. “That… and more,” He said, one again whispering the last bit under his breath. His face was different than her father’s when he did it, but it was definitely not a positive emotion. Could the same physical behavior be used for more than one emotion? Why did the General not trust Glade?  

“Father, may I formally met Ms. Glade?”  

Dr. Pietro let out a nervous and sad laugh. “Soon, darling. We’ll let Glade recover first. She’s not who she used to be,” His eyes shifted to Ironwood. Why? Whatever look that crossed over her father’s face was gone in an organic blink. “And Ms. Xanthic pushed that Spider Droid well past its limitations.”  

With the meeting winding down and Penny’s final trial run a success she was dismissed back to the labs. Her walk was quiet and undisturbed. Only her father and Ironwood had permanent access to this facility. A brief research into Ms. Glade brought up several women in the data banks. She filtered her Faunus Horns and found none.  

Penny frowned and adjusted the parameters. Instead of horned Faunus she filtered it to all Faunus’. Only one women came up but the features were wrong. Instead of those golden horns wrapping around her head there was ears protruding from the sides. She looked at the meta data for the date.  

Weird right? She looks better with the horns.  

Penny paused. Tempering with official Atlas records was a criminal offense. And it was not a glitch. Penny refreshed her visual feed, blinking a few times and referred the page on Glade. The photo changed to one that did not fit Atlas’ requirements for a dossier. All photos must be shoulders up, forward facing with a neutral expression.  

This one had several people it and was dynamic. Glade struggled against another Faunus who laughed and used her legs to keep a golden prosthetic horn out of reach- as it sunk into her Deep Pockets. Or at least Penny hoped the horns were prosthetics. The photo itself could be altered. A hacker was not a reliable source of information.  

Huntress Fiona Thyme bullying civilian Aurora Glade.  

Penny looked around. The hallway was empty but there were was a drop of evidence that someone other than her father and General Ironwood has passed through. Precisely a drop of coffee on the ground. Penny looked around, “Altering Atlas information is a poor method of communication, Ms. Xanthic.” Her scroll pinged before she was done speaking.  

“It’s about sending a message.”  

“How does changing the delivery method-”  

“By the Brothers- I’m not one of Ironwood’s soldiers so he can’t order me around like one. I want to know what’s up.”  

“Well… the city of Atlas is up.”  

Penny had to wait a few seconds for a response. For some reason it made her nervous.  

“Okay, plan b. We’re going to see the goat.”  

“The goat- Ms. Glade!”  

“Yep. I’ll meet you here.” Ms. Xanthic sent a map of the facility with a red blinking dot at the back. “All the cameras are on loop but hurry. I don’t want get caught again.”  

Penny held the scroll to her chest. This… This wasn’t an approved course of action. Meeting a hacker skilled enough play with Atlas Drones and the database was not a smart thing a robot should do. But didn’t care. She bounced on her feet and looked around. If she snuck out her father would be disappointed… Right? But it seems that he wanted her to meet Ms. Glade. For unknown reasons General Ironwood is stopping him. Glade jumped in to rescue her, her father believes Glade is kind and trusting. The Faunus wouldn’t harm her…  

But every reason and logic was drowned out by curiosity. This was a situation that was beyond what her simulators could produce.  

“Okay.” Penny whispered to herself. She felt… unsure?  

The ride to Mantle was awkward and silent, except for the soft music playing from the speakers. Ms. Xanthic was… not as welcoming or kind as Ms. Glades. The only similarity was their abnormal eyes. Glade’s glowed from her semblance while Xanthic’s was glowing obviously cybernetic.  

Her first words to Penny was, “Don’t talk to me. Talk to Glade.” So Penny quietly sat in the transport and played with her hand.  

Until the view outside… Outside the lab her attention.  

“Wow! The sky is gorgeous!” The vast blue melted into pink and reds, brighter than the lights or plasma cutters in the lab. “It’s much different in person…” Penny closed her eyes and pressed her for head to the window. With a thought she recalled her visual data of just seconds before. The view of Atlas and Mantle, the setting sun and a palette of color Penny never saw within shining metal walls. It was better than the pre-installed photos. It was the same as the world beyond the window, pixel for pixel but… Being outside…  

“Brothers, you really do sound like Glade sometimes,” Xanthic mumbled under her breath, cybernetic eyes rolling. “But… I know what you mean. Things haven’t been the same with these replacements.”  

“If I may,” Penny said looking at the hacker. She gestured for the girl to continue talking, “What happen to your eyes?”  

“Nothing you’ll find on the net,” Xanthic said. Her chest puffed out a little proud. The grin on her face matched her a lot better than the scowl but it was gone in a few seconds. “Seems like Dr. P gave you an upgraded version.”  

“Oh um… Possibly.”  

“What happen to yours?”  

At that Penny found closed her mouth, lips pressed to a tight line. Nothing happened to them, she was created with these eyes. But that was highly confidential information. Penny is highly confidential information. She shouldn’t be out here. Penny looked at her hands in her lap, wringing them ever so slightly. If anyone applied the right pressure they could feel the ball joints in her fingers.  

“A secret for a secret, Ms. Polendina,” Xanthic said resting back against the backseat. She took a shaky breath and hugged her jacket to herself. “I thought Mantle had heaters? How is it this cold.”  

“I…” Penny couldn’t tell a stranger, a hacker, she was a robot and couldn’t feel the cold. “This is my first time in Mantle.”  

“I guess… you can say it’s my first time down here too,” Xanthic said with a small laugh.  

The silence afterwards was much more comfortable and shorter. The transport landed right on top a building. Penny thanked Xanthic’s robot butler who looked at her but did not respond. Instead Xanthic frowned and rolled her eyes, “So much like Glade…”  

“Do you know Ms. Glade?” Penny asked following the women to the roof access. She watched her pull out her scroll. The hacker didn’t press it to the scanner for entry, she opened it and… Lines of code appeared- Xanthic hacked the locked and the door hissed open. Penny gasped, “We can’t break into Ms. Glade’s home!”  

“Is it really trespassing if she’s expecting us?”  

“Well, we are…” Penny paused double checking the dictionary and Atlesian laws in her head. “Not infringing on her privacy.” Penny wrung her hands again. This was definitely not acceptable behavior, even her father wanted her to meet Glade, he definitely disapprove of this. “Nor have we come with the intent to harm… but…” Glades may not want to harm Penny but this was a hacker. Penny could be lured into a trap though… she would easily be able to sense whatever was lurking in the dark and fight her way free.  

“Oh, now the huntress-in-training is scared? Where was this with the Droid?” Xanthic said, once again rolling her eyes. Penny frowned. She wasn’t scared. Safety protocols was just overreacting again. “Then I’ll have Glade drag you in. And to answer your question, no. I don’t know the damn goat personally, Glade’s reputation precedes her.” Xanthic entered without checking to see if Penny would follow.  

After a small nervous dance and looking around as if someone would order her, Penny finally entered the building. She made sure the door would properly lock behind them. Xanthic was just a few steps down, looking at the building’s layout on her scroll.  

“Her living quarters are… second floor from the top. Fun fact, she owns the entire building and her shop is the first two floors. Space between that and her apartment are testing rooms, workshops and storage.” Xanthic pocketed her scroll and lead Penny down a few more steps then to a door which she immediately opened.  

Penny expected another hall but instead was greeted by bright lights and a living room. Random bits of machinery laid scattered the place, almost in an organized mess. Penny could see an open drone on the coffee table, screws and internal parts too close to a prosthetic arm to be organized.  

From the other end of the living room a door opened. Glade had that expression again, brows furred, mouth slightly open. After spending time with Xanthic, Penny realized Glade was glaring a little. Behind her another young adult in Police Academy uniform. She stared intensely at Ms. Xanthic.  

“Ashley Xanthic. Age 19. Recently found guilty of hacking Atlesian Military Facility.”  

That odd face Glade had on instantly turned to joy. At least that was something Penny knew. “And you were ragging on my record! You were dumb enough to get caught!” Glade said throwing her head back with a laugh.  

Xanthic scowled, a blush contrasting her blue bob. “Shut it, you goat!” That only made Glade snort and laugh harder. “I have so many regrets.”  

“I suppose breaking the law, multiple times, isn’t one of them.” The officer-in-training frowned. She walked around Glade but no further into the apartment. Her eyes inspected Penny, “You are… unknown.”  

“She’s Penny Polendina,” Xanthic said while Glade tried gasping for air. She just laughed harder. The hacker hummed, not a pleasant hum like father’s singing. Xanthic had her lips parted in a slight scowl, so more of a growl than a hum? Ms. Xanthic waved her arms, “This bitch is Ciel Soleil, and you’ve already met Aurora Glade.”  

“Play nice, Xan,” Glade giggled. It finally stopped once she detached her metal feet. There was a soft hiss from the prosthetic and from pain. Glade slotted lighter, simpler ones. Indoor feet, Penny giggled to herself. “Shoes off, make yourself at home! Apparently we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”  

But Penny is a highly classified weapon. She wasn’t suppose to be out here, wasn’t suppose to be with people. “What… do you mean?” Penny asked hesitating. Her mind quickly fired up several scenarios, most of them involving the hacker discovering her origins-  

“I was trying to get rid of my records but found something else linked to my file,” Xanthic said with a shrug. She took Glade’s offer and walked into the kitchen. The sound of a coffee machine followed. “Apparently we’re going to be a huntress team.” Of course! Ironwood was saying something about Glade and the Vytal Festival. “I’d like to meet everyone on my terms before becoming Ironwood’s puppet.”  

Penny tried not to flinch under those words, but it spat out like hot wires against her processors. At first she thought no one notice but Glade’s eyes lingered a little too long. They both looked at Ciel when she scoffed.  

"I’m not interested in behind dragged into whatever you anarchist have planned. If the General of our Kingdom," Penny noted how Glade and Xanthic rolled their eyes, “Has a directive for us we’d best follow it,” Ciel said. “I have an exam tomorrow, so if you’d excuse me-” She was not excused. Glade stepped in front of her.  

“I’ll help you study,” Glade offered, “I helped my friends all the time while they were in combat school.”  

Ciel looked up with a stare that had no emotion. A blank stare? Penny believed it was called. “We aren’t friends.”  

“But we will be teammates.” Glade said with a grin. She leaned forward until she was eye level with the officer-in-training and held up one finger, “And it’s called being polite.” A second finger went up, “A new perspective will help.” Three used her thumb instead of her ring finger, “And this way you won’t be wasting time going back home and cooking your own dinner.” Then Glade straighten out to nearly half a head taller than Ciel and held out her hand. “Good?”  

“Those are… acceptable terms,” Ciel relented with a sigh. She shook her hand and finally stepped into the apartment. “Rumor has it you’re a good cook.”  

“Rumor has it you humans have a taste buds like cardboards.” Glade said with a small laugh. She looked at Penny and crossed her arms. “What? I need to talk you into staying too?”  

Penny was still by the door, hands clasped together. She bounced a little, still unsure if she should stay or go… Her father trusted Glade. General Ironwood didn’t trust either of them. But if the hacker and mechanic wanted to harm her they would have done it already. And if not, P.E.N.N.Y could handle two civilians.  

“Hm. No, I think I’ll stay for the moment, Ms. Glade.”  

“Ugh, Glade is too formal. My friends call me Aro.”  

Friends call me… Penny gasped bouncing a little more. Her power core leaking her Aura into too many components, “We’re friends?!” Someone wanted to be friends with her?  

“Only if you like how Aro sounds- Hey!” Glade yelped, tackled a few steps backwards. The gravity Dust in her legs tethered her to the ground. Ciel and Xanthic frowned glancing at each other. Ciel gestured to the babbling ginger and the laughing goat but Xanthic choose to look around for cream and sugar.  

Day 239 since creation. Three days since last artificial skin tear. Four trials cleared.  

Day One of Team APCX.

[jopok-krp]

Welcome to Jopok! Please follow the ADMIN TWITTER within 48 hours of acceptance, or your faceclaim will be freed up 

Personality:

if sangwoo were to be put on the alignment system, he would be chaotic neutral. he tends to go with the flow and follow orders as they are given to him, and, despite his loyalties within taurus and towards his family, he is highly individualistic. he expresses himself wholeheartedly whenever possible and very much values social interaction — preferably with people that aren’t inherently boring. dry conversations are difficult for him; his charismatic side tends to liven those up more often than not, but every now and then he finds himself pulling away from individuals he cannot identify with in the slightest and (shockingly) complaining about it towards his brother later on.

on the subject of his brother, he values sanghyun far more than he values himself. his actions may not reflect this (especially not when he loves to pull little pranks and gets into lighthearted scuffles with sanghyun almost daily), but he would undoubtedly put his life on the line for his twin and would sooner die protecting him than standing aside to let anything bad happen. this in and of itself can be difficult at times, because the two seem to have the same idea of getting in front of the other should things go awry on any of their jobs (thankfully, that doesn’t happen often).

sangwoo can be quite loud at times, especially when excited. the apartment complex’s landlord has surely received a few noise complaints whenever sangwoo is playing games due to how loud he yells, but he does his best to quieten down whenever he thinks about it or is asked to. on top of this, he’s very soft-hearted despite his murderous line of work. outside of his job, he wouldn’t hurt a fly — much less a person. he loves to play little tricks and get involved in mischievous, chaotic things, but he would never participate in anything malicious lest it be a requirement. one of his favorite tricks is to confuse others alongside his twin brother, and it is also for this reason that he has remained uninterested in anyone romantically; if they cannot tell him apart from sanghyun, then he doesn’t want anything to do with them on that front.

Background:

kim sangwoo was born into a family that had next to nothing. his mother and father struggled to make ends meet, and the addition of not one but two sons (unexpected for them, even more so considering how difficult it had been to conceive in the first place— but god, they couldn’t pass up the blessing of children merely because of their financial struggles) made things that much harder. they lived in a run-down house in seoul and did their best to provide for the twins, sometimes going hungry just to give their children something to eat; despite their struggles, they succeeded in taking care of both sangwoo and sanghyun and sending them to school.

life was never easy. sangwoo tended to stay closer to his brother than others earlier on in life and slowly allowed himself to branch out, showing a far more charismatic side as he progressed throughout grade school. he grew up humble and overly aware of his family’s situation in comparison to others’, and, at first, it mostly served to make him more weary around those that were more fortunate than himself.

as time progressed and the shortage occurred, however, sangwoo found himself seeking opportunity through such people. his brother had always been a fan of pokemon (rightfully so, but sangwoo would always take the argument of eevee being the absolute best pokemon to the grave) and envied a fancy, light-up pokeball keychain a boy had on his backpack. sangwoo knew there would never be a way for sanghyun to acquire that keychain through any legal means; he also knew that if they could swipe that, they could wipe other things as well. thus, they tried; sangwoo distracted the boy through natural conversation while sanghyun snatched it up, and no one so much as batted an eyelash towards the two when their classmate realized his keychain was missing. everyone believed he’d lost it on the way to school that day; it was replaced the very next day, and that’s when sangwoo understood they’d gotten away with their petty theft (and easily, at that).

their second theft was a bit more difficult and far riskier than the first, but sangwoo had faith in their abilities and an open mind towards what the future could bring should they become more successful in their efforts. it was a gold-plated bracelet that hung loosely around a girl’s wrist — one that looked like it could sell for a pretty penny. they used the same method as before; sangwoo distracted her with interesting conversations and sweet smiles while sanghyun swiped it right off of her wrist. it took sanghyun three tries, but he got it — and, again, the two were never caught.

the twins’ petty thefts became bolder as the years progressed; they moved from stealing little trinkets — some to be kept for sanghyun, others to be sold for money — to bigger things, whether it be nicer jewelry pieces or even cell phones. the two would hide the money they made until it was a large enough amount to warrant sealing within an envelope and putting in their mailbox for their parents to find; this was the best way they knew to help their situation without letting their parents know what they were up to or that they were involved in the ‘mystery money’ to start with. by fifteen, they’d worked out a system for taking and selling.

unfortunately, their system wasn’t perfect. in the summer of 2031, the twins stole a phone from one of their higher-profile classmates; it had her elite family’s contacts and other sensitive information within it and would surely go for a high price, but there was a hitch in the deal when they met with their buyer. they continuously tried to negotiate the selling price, and, when sangwoo’s brother put his foot down to stop the haggling, the three fought. a verbal altercation turned physical rather quickly, and sangwoo had to get behind the man to help sanghyun trap him. they were able to protect themselves this way, killing him in self-defense. the blood was on their hands.

they evaded police by staging it as a robbery (thanks to years of watching crime shows and paying far too much attention to forensic science on sangwoo’s side of things) and shared a silent understanding between one another that they hadn’t meant to kill him; it was that guy or themselves at that point in time, and they did what they had to do. later that week, they put another envelope full of money in their mailbox for their parents to collect.

things were quiet and smooth for the twins for a few months after that. their deals seemed to go off without a hitch most times aside from the difficult buyer or two that tried (and failed) to haggle prices down, but the line of work they’d entangled themselves within would never be an easy one. though murder was always the last thing on their mind even after the incident at 16, the same situation occurred in both the spring and winter of 2032. both times, the twins kept the item they intended to sell as well as the money — and both times, the person was of interest to a gang known as taurus. the twins hadn’t the slightest clue about the hit already on the buyers’ heads.

they staged the kills quite well back then; again, years of being interested in far less legal things played to their favor in times like those. sanghyun knew a thing or two about chemicals, and sangwoo knew a thing or two about how the scene should look. together, they almost made it look easy to get away with murder.

sangwoo never had a clue about the eyes that followed him and his brother after those incidents. he continued on with his life just as he had before, indifferent towards the crimes he’d committed and merely looking towards his future just like his peers. it was a surprise, then, when taurus approached the two in 2033 with an offer neither of them wanted to refuse. they were to join the gang and serve them, and they’d receive protection and money in return; it was far from a difficult decision to make, especially when this would guarantee their parents’ livelihoods as well as their own.

these days, sangwoo works under the alias of tai. he attends college in seoul as a forensics major, playing off of his inherent fascination with the science he’s carried for years on end. his parents believe him as well as his brother rei to be well-paid interns within the college they attend, and they intend to keep it that way; after all, ignorance is the easiest way to keep his parents safe. he hadn’t meant for his life to end up this way — killing as a profession, determining ways to cover up murder, pre-meditating that murder for as long as it takes to deduce the perfect time and place — but what works works.

[neuropathicgypsy]

Yesterday Jesse was seriously being a bitch to me and his daughter. Just being absolutely disgusting.

So I tell rhe FBI, Jesse needs more charges on him.

S they're at this federal penitentiary. It's unconventional and they had to sign all kinds of agreements and legal papers to be there. Like you can let me escape and I won't sue. But I'll be put back in jail for max. And worse punishment

So it's an earn your way prison.

For example. Dejoria heard screams and heard that some of the other people were being sprayed with the fire hose. So she took her bible and put it under the plastic pillow case to protect it because it's literally the only thing she has to read. And it's thick.

Well they were doing my side of the prison and they had to investigate her to see what's going on. So the sprayed her. And it's super hot water. Then it gets cold when you have no way to dry off and there's no sun, etc.

So she just put her head on her knees and cried and tried to get warm. Jumping jack and crying. So they went to check on her and they opened her actual person door not tray/handcuff door (just a big crack) and told her to put her hand out palm up but she was also told to put her hand on the wall mid way, yelled so she panicked and put both hands on the wall. She was supposed to just put the jail cell hand on the wall. So the jail guard took her hand faced it palm up and slid a heater handle onto it. And let her take it into her cell to dry her cell, blanket and warm up.

She was the only one of two out of 9 people that got a heater. 9 people got sprayed. 2 got a heater.

When they open the door it showed her they were trusting her emotional, spiritual and physical reaction to be true. And they were rewarding her.

I suppose that would anger some of you. Some or all of you victims. But I saw her later. And she was truly traumatized. And she didn't complain to anyone at all. Just took the punishment. Cried like a baby but didn't whine. Just had pure emotions.

I don't order people to do anything -- let me make that clear --- I tell on the bad guys and I say when I've had too much then they take action. I can't lie, well I could but I don't. Everything is extremely monitored. I also didn't make the punishment system. It's a federal guideline thar have been tweaked and worked on for years. I'm actually quite surprised about how it all works. But I'm also very pleased.

It's much like "on Earth as it is in Heaven" The infamous Lords Prayer. If you're worth a shit you're left alone. Or rewarded after a punishment.

They're all in the testing phase.

So I'll continue to tell us why we will have a very Merry Christmas:

Jesse James escaped and apparently broke his back and has been laying in a dirt street for over 12 hours. He was given a tiny bottle of morphine just like the kind he stole from my sick and hurt babies. Without a needle to extract it. With double sealed lid.

JP Degoria also escaped but Jesse told him he was going to kill him and to turn back. So he did like the coward he is and he got the shovel they used and went to a different part of the yard to dig himself another hole.. using the corner of the yard which makes it more difficult to actually get out. Then he found himself a floral print dress and a pair of black High heels a tad too small. So keep that in your mind. He's fleeing all jolly in a pair of heels his nappy gray hair flowing behind him.

So what happened was, I said Jesse needed more charges.. like fucking with me and his kid. Except. They were all okay, "get your shit, you're moving" and took them out barefoot in the cold, basically in rhein underwear. Then they stopped about 100 foot from the fence where there were 2 or more shovels. And the door of the van opened. So they made their choice to escape custody at that time.

Then Jesse went and dug like a dog on his hands and knees after JP helped start the hole

Jesse ended up finding some tennis shoes and an old burly coat. His section was only woods.

The section JP eventually escaped from held an "established" fake town with food, clothes, electricity, water, beds. Everything like it was 1950. He's having a lovely time creating more charges like breaking and entering, theft, grand larceny, auto theft and more. While on federal land. So it's federal charges. No misdemeanors here

Meanwhile Jesse lays in pain in the middle fo the road, having fallen off the back of the van he tried to comadeer.

They took Alexis Dejoria out, too. But she refused to get out. But she wss screamed at to get out. So she did. But just sat in a ball and cried and waited. At the road away from the fence. So she was allowed to get back in after about an hour. She was also allowed to use a direct cell phone to call her kid. She did and finally her daughter answered.

For billionaires they're penny pinchers and don't want to pay the outrageous costs of collect calls. So it was finally her ability to talk to her daughter. She was just crying and crying. Absolutely terrified and hysterical. It was pure emotions. While we may all believe she deserves that. It's not really an eye for an eye. But she's learning alot now through her own eyes. And she's suffering. Which is the point of prison.

If she continues she will eventually be moved to a better housing unit. The one where good behaviors go. She can commisary, talk to other people, make cheaper phone calls, be in a regular type prison.

Right now they're all in solitary confinement.

Escaping adds a year to that sentence. So she saved herself that year and got a phone call to her daughter and since it's Christmas she also gets to call her today, free of charge.

That wasn't me. I didn't say she could do that

But to further reward her they did use my suggestions and they gave her bleach and a sponge and music to listen to as she cleaned. She had to return the music and did and said thank you and didn't whine she couldn't listen longer.

They wanted to allow her to feel some of the freedom she gave up.

I think she deserved it

So while JP found himself an old wooden jail and scratchy wool blanket and a slab to lay on, Jesse not desiring to move, near woods just like he took Matt Hagan over 30 years ago and starved and beat ---- they're still both enclosed in jail.

So they escaped. Yet. They haven't even left.

It's a maze. They use it as training facility for army/police type shit and there's fences all over and if you don't know where you are...

For example. Jesse would go under a fence to get to where JP is so Jesse wold think "freedom" but JP to get there Jesse is would think he's going back to prison that way cause the woods. So he would escape even more if he went the other way, he would think.

And to make shit lovely, their holes are already covered back up.

**they don't have their sentences yet. They're only charged but they will be held n solitary for a year now because they won't be able to actually escape. Eventually they will get them.

***also they were incorrect last night in the communication styles with me last night. It's expensive to call, they can only leave messages tho. The other person listens. So in in good behavior they make regular person to person calls.

***extreme pain today so anything else that's misleading, whatever. I don't care.

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Who Is the Captive?

Barbara Underwood from her book, Hostage to Heaven

AUGUST 1976.

“Come immediately to Hearst Street. Pack for a week. You’ve got to look mature, up-to-date. This is a very special mission so I can’t tell you over the phone. They’re probably listening in. All right?” The voice was not waiting for an answer. It had delivered its command.

“Teresa, there’s one thing. My mother’s flown all the way to San Francisco to spend the weekend with me. I haven’t seen her in two years. She’s coming to Washington Street tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t worry about your mother. You can pray for her,” the voice advised, determined and dispassionate.

“Shall I call her tonight?” I asked hesitantly. “What shall I do?”

“No, absolutely don’t call. You’ll have to explain too much. Leave a note at the front desk and someone’ll treat her gently when she arrives tomorrow. Say you’ve been called out of town on an unexpected emergency,” Teresa ordered. “Now come quick. Amos and Irene are waiting.”

I hung the phone up, nervous with the excitement of imminent intrigue. Racing upstairs two at a time, I thought of my sparse wardrobe packed in brown grocery sacks in various closets. I had nothing fashionable to wear, only corduroy pants and turtlenecks, my daily uniform for flower selling or Boonville ranch life. As I rooted around the sisters’ wardrobes, I suddenly felt inadequate, wrongly chosen for the mission. Trying on dress after dress, I appeared to myself too young, too babyfaced, too tomboyish.

All the dresses were too short.

“Oh, no, my poor mom,” I thought abruptly. “She’ll never understand.” But I knew such thoughts were looked on as total faithlessness; I had to extinguish them.

Finished packing, wearing a tailored blue dress a staff sister had lent me, I scribbled a note which read: “Dear mom. I’m sorry I can’t see you. I’ve been called out of town on an emergency because a Family friend of mine needs me. I’ll write you later. Love, Lael (Barb).”

As I was driven across town, guilt was replaced by a secret sense of power which flooded me—after all, I’d been chosen to represent God and the Lord of the Second Advent. I was being given this chance to help establish the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth.

Irene, an elegant, angular-faced Jewish woman from New York with a gutsy, omniscient manner, greeted me at the door of the palatial Hearst Street center. I’d never felt comfortable around her. I’d been in the movement two years longer than she, but she had swiftly ascended to a higher position of responsibility and power. I knew too well about myself what Teresa had once told me, “Your problem is, you came as a wild rose and you’ve never been properly pruned.” Irene was already pruning others.

Amos, tall and restrained, disguising his urchin spirit, waved me a good night as he crawled into his sleeping bag next to the front door to guard the entrance to Hearst Street center. “Heavenly dreams,” he called out in a paternal voice. “Get some sleep. In the morning we’ll tell you what’s about to happen.”

Irene and I marched up the three flights of newly carpeted stairs. We opened our sleeping bags, removed our first layer of clothes, and, in order to execute a quick wake-up in the morning, hopped in, slips, hose, and all. “Let’s pray, then I’ll tell you the plan,” Irene said.

“O.K. You and either Jonah or Amos will be flying to Columbus, Ohio, to try to free Michele Tunis from deprogrammers and bring her back to the Family. We know where they took her after her parents kidnapped her because she left a note with her wallet in the San Francisco airport indicating Phoenix, Arizona. Then two days later she left a message and address in the stall of a john in Illinois; someone mailed it to us. She’s at the Alexanders’ house in Munroe Falls, Ohio, being deprogrammed. Of course, she’s there against her will, and we don’t have much time before they could break her. They could even be torturing her right now. You’re to go along to help influence anybody in the state government or courts, or police departments, to help release her. This is criminal. We’ll talk more in the morning. We only have three hours till we get up. Good night.”

“Amazing,” was all I could answer; my shivering I kept to myself.

“Hurry, Amos,” Irene yelled. “Onni and Abba are expecting us for breakfast by eight!” Onni (meaning “elder sister” in Korean) was the handsome, forbidding spiritual commander of Sun Myung Moon’s Unification Church in California. Her will was undisputed, her decisions about policy matters autocratic and final. With her mystically manipulative aura, she was Moon’s most faithful and accomplishment-oriented disciple, was called his “daughter-in-spirit,” and was often bodyguard and caretaker of Hak-Ja Han, Moon’s wife, when she attended special public events in New York and San Francisco. Although everyone worshipped Onni’s passionate and indefatigable ambitions for God, privately she was regarded as impersonal and scary by certain staff members and novitiates alike. Abba (meaning “father” in Korean) was the name Onni had given to Dr. Mose Durst, a kindly, philosophical, tender Jewish college professor whom she’d handpicked as her husband and been married to in a “blessed” service performed by Moon himself. Dr. Durst, a credible public performer, had developed a benign front organization called New Education Development Systems, Inc., whose generalities about love and sharing appealed to and brought in many innocents, who later discovered they had somehow become members of the Unification Church. Together, Onni and Abba formed the leadership of the Moon mission on the West Coast.

We piled into the car. Within minutes, Amos, Irene, and I entered Onni’s magnificent western-style Berkeley Hills mansion, named The Gardens, through a controlled intercom system of electronic gates and doors.

We took off our shoes, stopped for pious and grateful prayers, and looked to each other for further directions. Soon someone beckoned us into the kitchen, where breakfast was being served: pancakes, bagels, yogurt, cheeses, eggs, juice, coffee. Preparations were always dignified and bountiful around the local “true parents.”

Onni came in with a flourish and indicated we should sit. Abba trailed in behind, fatherly, affectionate, with his arm around Jonah, one of the business-brain-children of the church.

I rose to shake hands with Dr. Durst. We all waited to see what kind of mood Onni was in. Our spiritual lives—which is to say everything that mattered to us—depended on pleasing her.

She wore curlers in her striking black, usually stylish hair; she was the least adorned I’d ever seen her. She radiated impatience, anxiety. Dr. Durst, too, looked more than usually upset.

“So, Jonah, you know how to get Michele back?” Onni barked in her idiomatic Korean-American blend.

“Well, we know where she is, but we don’t know who to go to when we get there. Play it by ear, I guess,” Jonah answered.

“You mean you don’t know what to do?” Onni accused. An oppressive silence followed.

“Amos, you go instead. Jonah, you don’t have head for this.” Jonah, shocked and speechless, turned to Dr. Durst for support. But there was no help there, either.

“Amos, you know all legal part? You and Lael make plane reservation right now. Lael, do exactly what Amos says. You must get Michele back. She so stupid to go with her dad. Good luck.” Onni got up and went out of the room.

Dr. Durst seemed near to tears. We knew he, too, saw deprogramming as the violent death that stripping away one’s spiritual life meant to the Church. The end of all hope for Michele ... He showed us out the door, offering unspoken encouragement.

Amos and I stood for a moment on the doorstep. We had our orders, but no strategy. We’d have to devise a battle plan, using only God’s intervention and guidance.

At the airport Amos immediately assumed the parental role. From now on, I was to be his “object” and support, his obedient assistant ... his attractive child. He purchased the tickets and we boarded the United airliner.

Picking out window seats, Amos motioned me to sit down. He took my hands in his and, as older brother-in-charge, urged, “Let’s pray: Heavenly Father, we’re so sorry for your misery. We know you’ll never have a moment of happiness until our Father has subjugated Satan in the spirit world and started the Kingdom on Earth. We’ll do everything we can to claim our sister, Michele, back from Satan’s grasp.” His beseeching voice concluded, “We pray that you can work through Lael to follow Amos exactly, and that together we can bring victory to our True Parents. Amen.”

It was a long ride. Amos opened his attache case and handed me piles of news articles and leaflets on the recent barrage of kidnappings and deprogrammings by parents of various cult young people, from Unification Church to Hare Krishna to Children of God. To the Church, the real devils appeared to be Ted Patrick, a black man known for his forceful snatches; Joe Alexander, senior and junior, noted for their legally sanctioned deprogrammings; and the Alexanders’ “mercenary” attorney, young Michael Trauscht from Tucson, Arizona. Michele was being held captive by the legal device of a conservatorship her father had just been granted by a California court. Her father had claimed she was in need of temporary parental guardianship because she was susceptible to “artful and designing” people in the ranks of the Unification Church. This was the first I’d ever heard of such a legal tangle; it sounded threatening, and I agreed with Amos that conservatorships must be fraudulent. We made a solemn vow to use any means necessary to spring Michele from her captors.

The plane let down in Columbus after two hearty meals, a catnap, and lots of earnest prayer and discussion. It was midnight.

Determined to save every penny for God, suitcases in hand, we Walked arm in arm two miles down a straight highway to the Holiday Inn. Stiff and formal, I felt like I was enacting American Gothic amidst the hayfields and cricket sounds of the Ohio summer.

I hid outside while Amos rented a single room. Dr. Durst had advised Amos to “be careful,” which, in the puritanical Church doctrine of total chastity before marriage, meant “no compromise” or, practically speaking, two separate bedrooms. But, eager to be frugal, Amos simply prepared a separate bed for me—the tub in the bathroom! We both laughed uncontrollably at the primly propped pillow, delighted we’d “obeyed” Abba without spending the extra cash.

At 5:00 a.m. Sunday we woke for Pledge Service. Together we carried out the Familial Unification Church ritual, chanting our lifelong devotion to God and Moon and our burning antipathy to Satan—who was everyone opposed to Moon.

Honoring the sacrifice Moon had made for us during his imprisonment in North Korean prison camps years ago, we drank orange juice and coffee but couldn’t eat till noon. Amos, in an elaborate and sanctimonious gesture, put sugar and cream in my coffee. To serve another in the Church is the highest honor; inverting usual habits, the server becomes the victor. A cup of coffee or tea offered and taken has cosmic significance.

Amos rented a silver Dodge and we drove to Ohio State University and made ourselves comfortable in the faculty club. Chanting under my breath for a good lead into our puzzle, I sparked up a conversation with what turned out to be the head of the dental school. After hearing my careful story, it developed that he’d graduated from Berkeley and knew the dean of a law school in northern Ohio very well. What a gold mine!

Amos was pleased with God’s effort so far.

After several phone calls, Amos made arrangements to meet with the dean of the law school that night. We knew Munroe Falls, where Michele was being held, was a suburb of Akron. Only two hours’ drive away, we were getting warmer....

The dean of the law school invited us into his orderly office. Calling himself a follower of New Education Development Systems, Amos pleaded Michele’s case. After Amos finished, our dean promised us that his assistant, Dean Reece, who’d handled the Vietnam Calley case, would help us the next day. The dean showed us briefly around his law school, bought us hot chocolates, and offered to let us sleep in sleeping bags in the student lounge. Surprised but grateful, we declined the hearty invitation because we needed to be where we could plan more privately.

Monday morning we charged into the Akron Public Library, fighting crowds of people swarming to see the famed Soap Box Derby, and combed through thousands of feet of microfilm of newspaper and magazine articles about the Alexanders, Michael Trauscht, and deprogramming.

The microfilms led us deeper into espionage and masquerade. We discovered there was an Akron person who conducted deprogramming from a subterranean office in an alley beneath the haunted-looking Brown Derby Hotel. The label on his door read Mind Freedom.

Inside worked a young, slapstick psychologist who claimed he knew everything about the recruitment methods of Hare Krishna, T.M., Scientology, and, worst of all, in his opinion, Unification Church.

We introduced ourselves as Amos and Lael; soon he’d handed me a New Age Magazine article by a journalist named Bob Banner about our own Boonville ranch. I recognized the magazine writer instantly; the article was all about Bob Banner’s experience in my group (and he named me) up on the recruitment farm! I excused myself hastily to go to the bathroom while Amos—unaware—kept presenting himself as a deprogrammer with special expertise in the neurophysiology of brainwashing. Amos, however, was soon handed the article, came across my name, and shortly excused himself, too, to fulfill “other obligations.”

Close call! we breathed, out on the street.

Dean Reece met us that afternoon. A gentle southern hulk of a man, he took in every word of our story and scoured it in his mind. I trusted him at once, but Amos made it clear by several sharp looks that I was not to reveal so much information. Reece himself, a loyal Baptist, said he didn’t care for the deceptions and dubious goals of some of the cults, especially Moon’s army (whom he suspected, despite our circumspection, we had some connection with), but he was concerned for the civil rights of “a woman being held against her will.” He promised that if we could verify Michele’s presence in Joe Alexander’s Munroe Falls house, he would go there accompanied by the local chief of police and talk to her. He recommended we do some sleuthing that night and find out exactly where she was.

Equipped with new Penney’s tennis shoes, a can of chemical eye-spray, and a deafening noisemaker, I stole through the molasses-black woods behind Prentiss Street, while Amos patrolled the pleasant rural neighborhood from the car, its headlights switched off. I’d never spied on a suspected house before, but I was well versed in stealth; flower sellers for the church dare illegal entrances to restaurants, bars, and office buildings, all of which forbid solicitations, from San Diego to Toronto. I prayed to be invisible and for the chorus of neighborhood dogs to stop yelping so suspiciously.

I crept up to the back of what I was sure was the right house and clung to one side of a tree. Finally I dared to look in.

Sure enough, Michele herself sat in the kitchen with a group of people. She looked tired and high-strung, but that was to be expected. After all, she was surrounded by the worst people on earth, the ones God raged against.

Yet, as I watched in fascination, eight ordinary-looking people around the dinner table bowed their heads and prayed. Then everyone laughed and talked companionably as they ate.

I grew more and more outraged. How could they pray, even presuming to address God? How could they pretend to be happy? I remembered Dr. Durst’s lecture: “God and Satan, good and evil, look exactly alike. But one is for world benefit, one is for self-benefit.” Who, the thought flashed in me, dictates or defines world or self-benefit? I let the troublesome wonder escape, seized as I was with the abrupt desire to let Michele know that her saviors had come, that her true Family was nearby, that her captivity was about to end....

Then, through the gold-lit window of the homey kitchen, I watched Michele get up, yawn, stretch, and leave the room with three young people. Eventually I edged across the moonlit lawn on hands and knees, hiding myself in the shadows alongside the back porch in order to eavesdrop on the people who had just entered it. A pair whom I guessed to be the Alexanders were talking with another couple whom I recognized from photographs as Michele’s parents. I studied their faces, earnest and worried; they looked malevolent, plotting....

Then a phone rang. When it did, I recognized my only chance to dart away unnoticed in the flurry of interruption.

Panting, and fearful of discovery, I caught up with Amos’s car and climbed in the window to avoid the noise of the door banging. Amos yelled when I stepped on his hand. I shushed his cry, only to sit down on the noisemaker in my back pocket! The pair of us, unintentional clowns that we were, eased the car through back streets to the main highway.

“Amos, she’s there! I saw her! We’ve got her!” I exulted.

“Is she tied up? Does she look bruised or beaten?” he demanded.

“Mostly just nervous. Out of place,” I replied, more slowly.

“Great, we’ll have her out by tomorrow. The dean’s reliable.

Thank you, Heavenly Father. Let’s pray.” Then, “You hungry, partner?” Amos coaxed.

“Anytime you are, chief,” I joked.

“We haven’t eaten all day. Let’s stop at the Red Barn. You order and I’ll call and give the good news to Onni.”

“Give her my love,” I offered awkwardly.

“I expect she gets all she needs from God,” Amos rebuked me. I felt like Cain, whose offering had been rejected.

After we ate it was midnight, but Amos’s and my night watch wasn’t over. Shortly after Michele had disappeared with her father in San Francisco, Mitch, a responsible Church member, had been seized in a hotel by his uncle and father on a conservatorship order and flown to Ohio to stay with one of the Alexander sons. Amos was intent on recovering Mitch, too, though his loss to the church was considered less disastrous than Michele’s, as she was a top staff member. We roved from one end of Akron to the other blindly searching for every Alexander listed in the phone book. We turned in unsuccessfully at 4:00 a.m. after singing boisterously to keep ourselves awake.

We met Dean Reece at ten sharp in his office the next morning. Amos told him the results of our reconnaissance the night before, filling in more details about my part than I’d supplied him. Reece listened closely, then put in a call to the Monroe Falls chief of police. An appointment was set up an hour from then in the sedate bedroom town.

As we crowded the dean into our rented car, he talked about an episode a month earlier when a boy had come bursting into his office, insisting that he buy some peanuts. Reece, from Georgia, couldn’t refuse, but he fumed to us now about the brazen intrusion. “That was Unification, wasn’t it?” he pressed. “I tell you, that kid acted like a little demigod, as though his work was more earthshaking than any I’d ever heard of.” Amos and I, in silent fraternity, winked at each other. Someday it would all be clear....

The sterile beige police station didn’t offer us much relief from our anxiety. We chanted incessantly in a lifeless cubicle while Reece conferred with the cop. When both insisted on going to the Alexanders’ home without us, Amos rebelled.

“No representation without us. Satan could get into the dean, especially with that policeman beside him. He’s not sympathetic,” Amos muttered to me confidentially.

More conferring.

Amos lost.

But as soon as the two men left, Amos instructed me to stay behind in the jail and pray hard. He was going to take the rented car and park outside the house on Prentiss Street anyway. After all, God had made him Michele’s guardian.

Amos later told me that at the very moment of his arrival, Michele and her mother had driven up from an errand. The dean and chief were with Esther Alexander on the front lawn awaiting their arrival.

Amos had hurled himself out of the car and run toward Michele.

“Michele, Michele, Lael and I are here. Onni and Teresa love you,” Amos shouted.

Instantly Michele turned to Esther, wild-eyed. “Get me away,” she begged. Esther Alexander grabbed Michele’s hand and ran with her into the house.

“Hey, you go back to the police station,” the chief came out on the porch and angrily shouted at Amos. “We told you to stay away.”

In dismay, in anguish, Amos drove back to join me. He didn’t interrupt my chanting nor did he offer any insight. Instead he held his head in his hands and cried for the pain of Michele’s betrayal.

The minutes we waited were merciless; more like light-years.

Dean Reece and the chief finally entered our room, sober-faced. The chief said, “The girl doesn’t want to see you. She says she cares for you both but she plans to stay with the Alexanders. She believes the conservatorship is justified. So do we,” added the chief.

I shot a hard, blazing glance to Amos. “But I thought conservator-ships were a fraud, a setup,” I backed him up.

“What did Michele say about Onni or Teresa?” Amos begged.

“I heard someone say—I can’t remember who—that Teresa has a devil’s mesmerizing ability,” commented the chief; he seemed open to that possibility.

“That’s a lie! They’re the devils!” Amos pounced.

“Now listen here, you’re a nice-looking pair of kids. The woman you claim is being held against her will wants to be there. Something’s fishy,” the chief remarked.

Dean Reece stood, judgelike hands behind his back. “It seems Michele’s undergone an experience called deprogramming. You’ve heard of it, of course....”

“Yes, and that’s exactly why we’re here. They’ve just finished intimidating, maybe even torturing her, ripping God out of her life in hateful cold blood,” Amos exploded in fury. “If Michele doesn’t come back with us, it’s because they’ve planted false, evil fears in her about a life she loved just two weeks ago. They’re the ones doing the brainwashing, can’t you see?”

“Look,” calmed Reece, “she appears to have control of her senses, and although she appreciates what you’re trying to do for her, she’s happy where she is and wants to stay there.”

“What makes you so afraid of deprogramming?” suddenly asked the chief.

Shocked, vulnerable, I waited for Amos to speak up. “Well,” he said, “my faith must be deeper than Michele’s ever was, but all the same, I wouldn’t relish having it threatened in inhuman ways.”

“How do you know it’s inhuman? Michele speaks highly of both the Alexanders and her parents.”

“She must be brainwashed,” I concluded.

“They’ve taken the Messiah out of her life and Satan’s possessed her spirit. She’s no longer responsible,” Amos added.

“Nonetheless, you two had better think pretty hard before you go traipsing all over America trying to uproot people from a situation they prefer to be in,” warned the cop.

“She no longer knows what she wants. She’s captive. Michele can’t be herself,” I spoke up.

“That, my girl, is a very serious accusation. Who are you to go around legislating or determining one preferred reality for another?” Reece moralized.

The policeman jumped on me. “Who told you to do this anyway? Maybe you’re the captive?”

I didn’t care what he said; I knew I was absolutely right. He simply didn’t understand God. How could he know that the final Truth of God had been proclaimed by the Lord of the Second Advent, who was living in New York at this very hour?

“I hope we’re still friends. I expect you’ll hear from this Michele again. She seems like a sweet person, and sincere. Let me take you both to lunch back at the Holiday Inn,” offered Reece. Since we’d been trained never to refuse a gift to a heavenly child, Amos and I accepted. But the meal was pervaded by our stunned silences.

On the phone to Onni before our return to San Francisco, Amos tried to explain Michele’s action. He told me it seemed beyond Onni’s mental capacity to accept. Michele, Onni said, was lost in Satan’s hands. 

Then Amos surprised me by a more practical note: Onni feared that Michele knew many secrets about the inner operation of the Church and would tell.

We were ordered home immediately. We owed God a thousand repentances; Onni left us with customary guilt.

“Amos,” I summarized on the plane, “one thing I’ve realized through this disappointment is how vicious and deceiving Satan is. Satan turns everything upside down. And God is helpless without our faith. I could never be deprogrammed. God needs me and I love Him too much.”

Two weeks later I finally talked by phone to my parents. Teresa told me my father had called our centers repeatedly trying to find me. I explained to my mother the mission I’d been on; she made little comment about being abandoned on the Washington Street porch when she came to visit.

What I couldn’t tell either my father or mother was that in June, when I’d begged them to come down just once more to a weekend seminar and they refused, I’d gone out and spent two hours in the dark crying under a tree in Lafayette Park.

That evening I’d finally given my mother and father up. I’d prepared never to see them again in my life, if God demanded.

When I’d come in from that heartbreaking darkness, my real parents had irrevocably and eternally become Moon, Hak-Ja Han, Onni, Dr. Durst. As I had been repeatedly taught in the cult, it was they who were my True Parents.

Onni Durst – The Dragon Lady

One Family meeting with Onni Durst scarred my soul

Moon’s ultimate truth is … absolute obedience – Allen Tate Wood

[samanthapagesof]

The Ranch Family-Part 3

Sept

Conflict and grief consumed the body him as a young man. His life was set for him from the moment of his conception. Placed on the path to success, and excelling at nearly all things, except perhaps a taste for the arts.  He was born into a family of the top 1%. Money was never a concern, but rather a toy. His family owned most of the major city, from real estate to local business. This silver spoon paved the way for this man.

However, standing as a titan of business didn’t exactly give his family quite the best reputation amongst the people. This distaste had grown amongst the inhabitants of the city. Protests and civil unrest had become commonplace among their investments. Seeing his family's legacy become tattered in such a way inspired him to fight back in the only way he thought possible, the legal system. Except, his ivy league law degree and tunnel vison would lead to his eventual downfall.

In the most coveted areas, the allies and gutters gave way to hippies and the other dregs of society. It was there he met June. He walked through the streets of his sacred city, contemplating how to wash away the filth that infested it now, he saw her. He stood chiseled and refined, a beacon of what the area was supposed to have been. A man such as himself accepts nothing but the finest, in any regard, but something had pulled him in. Something he was never able to attain, the sheer embodiment of art.

He understood exactly how to get what he wanted, from most women. She proved to be unlike anything he’d ever known. Enraptured by this manifestation, he fell directly into her manipulative web. It weaved into his mind and destroyed his soul. Within three months he had lost his job, family, and everything apart of his childhood. He renounced his family name and took one June had chosen, Sept; the month they met and ironically when his life began to fall apart. Plus June created a new last name for the pair of them and their unborn child, Lox.

Month three was the epitome of all things wrong in Septs life. June was pregnant and was fueled with rage in her pursuit of revenge against her father. Somehow having convinced Sept to take the last of the money his family gave him, in stipend for his well being, and sue her father for abuse in almost every way. Septs kind and broken heart signed every last penny to her in hopes of pleasing her.

After the court ruled in favor of June's father not only was she an absolute wreck, they were broke. As what June's father claimed was, a kind gesture, he set Sept up at a family friends local slaughterhouse. Where he and June would have to raise the unwanted child growing in Junes belly.

The years drag a part of Septs soul with them every time it passes. Sad and grief consumed the body of the withered man. Mindlessly working while fully aware of his corrupt boss, who purposely keeps cutting his chances of ever leaving. With the birth of his second child, Sept felt anger and resentment take his body and through whatever means necessary he was going to flee with his family.

With little savings, June found a pathetic excuse of a plot of land labeled “ranch” with a teardown kind of house and an almost nonexistent shack-like building, June said she would make it into her “silent sanctuary”, a place she could escape too. Stretching themselves more and thin, they could barely afford it and off they went. Sept hasn't felt any other option besides sadness and depression for over 10 years and each mile closer he got a chain to his old way of thinking began to break free.

THE MORNING

June still asleep, Sept creeped out of bed and went about his morning routine. He made a small and simple breakfast, got dressed, and checked on both boys. Oddly enough the same way for both of them, checking breathing patterns and basic vitals. Taught by June after her nurse friend taught her when Jan began his drug benders. Then for Feb because of his vocal cord paralysis. Both seemed alive and breathing was normally enough not to worry.

Armed with his resume he set off to apply for a second job because June doesn't work, then off to his day job; local janitor. How could he have fallen so far from the path to success he was thrust upon.

Going about his day was always a bore but liberation from the resentful exchanges between him and June was too sweet a taste. While not legally married, he was as bound to her as one can get without being surgically attached or physically chained. The enchantment of the soul and will has the strongest hold on a person. The clock is 20 till his average release time. Packing his things he encounters the local call girl. Everyone knows who she is and what she is, but Sept has always been past that and looks for the best inside people. She goes by Scarlet. Sept was not the type of man to wander but her charm had snuck its way past Junes hold on him.

June, the mother of his children and the women who ruined his life. Scarlet, a local girl with a big reputation.

“My sweet September” She whispered.

“Ms. Scarlet, you look breathtaking as always”

“ My, it seems I have caught you on your way home” She brushed her hair behind her ear and arched her back enough to make her breasts seem larger than they were.“Mm, what a shame. I guess I will not keep you any longer” She turned to leave.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Is there something you need?” He asked shakingly.

“It's nothing really, I didn’t need help with anything. More like an ear that is willing to listen” Her eyes intsting. Her siren call was pulling him in.

“I can listen” he pleaded.

“Its five till, are you sure?

“Absolutely” he stated.

Listening to Scarlet speak was like drinking hot chocolate. Sweet to the taste and warmth fills your body. She cared what Sept had to say and think, or so she made him believe. He hadn’t felt any kind of affection sense Feb was a toddler and only wanted to confront from this father when June couldn't be bothered with child care.

Two hours later, Sept is sprawled over the old student desk he used as his own and a nearly naked Scarlet on top of him. Shaken, he wiggles his way out from under her and sinks to floor in pure shock. What happened, his mind was black. Last he remembers was the clock at five till. Two hours past he needed to get home.

His mind still blank on the situation still asleep at his work he rushes home.

The smell of cannabis consumed the house, the kitchen empty and no sign of June. Sept rushes to the bathroom to clean the smell of Scarlet off of him.

After changing clothes he basically swims through his off-brand and poison-like cologne. He hears rustling down the hall, he walks towards the door and into Feb's bedroom. He finds Jan on top of Feb with his hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing so hard his face was purple and the vein about his left eye was pushing so hard against his skin it looked this it was going to burst. June gripping Jans arm struggling to rip him off, but her strength does nothing to stop Jan Sept runs over and pulls her off. Begging and screaming at Jan, Sept tries to break to lock Jan has on Feb. “He’s going to kill him” the same thought yelling in his mind. Before he realizes it Septs feels something shatters around him and...

SLAM.

The sound of Jans head cracks on the floor, his body falls limp and Feb’s eyes roll back into his head like a bowling ball. Both Feb and Jan fall unconscious.