#the court of public opinion considers them guilty long before the actual court has a chance to prove it beyond a reasonable doubt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

noctomania · 3 years ago

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I want you to understand the cause and effect of what has led to what is going on in texas at least re: abortion laws.

First off let me clarify: Roe v Wade was not law...yet. When you see a ___ v ___, that is an opinion. Not in the sense you may think. It's an opinion decided through litigation which means it's a powerful opinion that has been hammered out through the judicial process of a lawsuit being drawn up, and worked out in court. It could be a local, state, or federal court. Typically the ones that are most significant are federal, or ones that have come before the US Supreme Court - either because it is the federal government that is being challenged, the defendant petitions to move it to federal, or that the case has been elevated through appeals.

There are particular circumstances that determine if a case can go federal level:

"Federal court jurisdiction, by contrast, is limited to the types of cases listed in the Constitution and specifically provided for by Congress. For the most part, federal courts only hear:

Cases in which the United States is a party;

Cases involving violations of the U.S. Constitution or federal laws (under federal-question jurisdiction);

Cases between citizens of different states if the amount in controversy exceeds $75,000 (under diversity jurisdiction); and

Bankruptcy, copyright, patent, and maritime law cases.

In some cases, both federal and state courts have jurisdiction. This allows parties to choose whether to go to state court or to federal court."

Federal courts may hear cases concerning state laws if the issue is whether the state law violates the federal Constitution.

In the case of Roe v Wade, the attorney's filed to the Supreme Court since the argument was that the state law was a violation of a federal law - specifically the 14th amendment assertion of right to privacy. That is what determines the jurisdiction in this case.

RvW was decided in 1973 with a 7-2 ruling in favor of Roe's right to privacy and ultimately right to choose how to treated her pregnancy. Why hasn't it been turned into law? Obvious reasons over the years include what party is in power in executive, congressional, or even judicial circles. Right now though we have a D in the executive and congress, but something many are overlooking is the critically important and understates judicial branch - which holds significant changes Trump installed.

Also regarding congressional, though there is a stronger hold on the house (even with 3 vacancies), the senate is just barely D majority with 50 R, 48 D and 2 independent as shown in the charts below. The two Independent Senators, Bernie Sanders of Vermont and Angus King of Maine, caucus with the Democrats which brings it 50/50 and the US VP - Harris (D) in this case - is the President of the senate and ultimately serves as a tie breaker for votes as well as situations like this even divide of party members. Were the VP a republican than republicans would still have a senate majority.

I will dive more into what's going on with the senate and why even with a D majority it isn't where it needs to be as it's a bit less straight forward.

So how the hell are abortion rights being challenged? Why aren't the all powerful democrats doing anything?!

Well, they are and have been doing a lot - and I urge you in moments when you are frustrated by feeling as though "dems aren't doing anything" to dig deeper to understand how our government operates. It's very clear there is a poor comprehension of our civics system by the general population which is why I'm using this as an opportunity to not only inform but also to learn more myself. I was educated primarily in Texas public education system. I was privileged enough to have decent teachers, but there is still much to learn. I'm doing research as I write this. I've already learned a lot. Come learn with me!

Alright, you're on board with learning more? Great choice! Let's get into it.

So with dem control of executive and congressional branch, all that is left is judicial.

"Trump appointed 54 federal appellate judges in four years, one short of the 55 Obama appointed in twice as much time."

Trump also had a major influence on the nation’s highest court. The three Supreme Court justices he appointed – Neil Gorsuch, Brett Kavanaugh and Amy Coney Barrett – are the most by any president since Ronald Reagan (who appointed four) and the most by any one-term president since Herbert Hoover

Donald Trump has appointed and the Senate has confirmed 220 Article III federal judges through November 1, 2020, his fourth year in office.

The average number of federal judges appointed by a president through November 1 of their fourth year in office is 200.

Judges are supposed to be neutral impartial parties who use only what is presented in court and through the judicial process (which involves looking at current standing laws) to determine their decisions in court instead of using their personal opinion or political sway to inform them. However, as we saw all too often, trump was not interested in impartiality. He was interested in control, asserting his own personal opinion, even on occasion insisting he himself as president had more control than the constitution actually allows. So with that conflict and the fact he installed so many judges really makes huge impact on the judicial branch of our government. Since every branch is supposed to be fair and equal this causes a lot of road block when one branch is neither fair nor equal. You can't simply use the other two the gain up on the third - though in this case that would be convenient for dems, it would be much less convenient when the parties were reversed. It's also important to acknowledge the reality that D are not always impartial either - which again we will get to after judicial chat - nor are all R unfair. This can be a hard pill to swallow, even for me. Reality is not always easy to accept.

So of course appointments made by trump, of which there were many, can not be trusted to actually be acting in good faith, but in favor of personal or political interests (which also often come down to personal interest of a financial persuasion). When judges are not impartial, they may make decisions that ultimately contradict what was presented in court or what the law of the land says. Typically if a hearing with the Senate Judiciary Committee (you can see an example here of the first day of Amy Comey Barrett's hearing day 1/3) determines that there is a conflict of interest or that they are illgitimate, then ideally a judge will be blocked from appointment. This clearly also depends on the makeup and impartiality of the Senate and thus the Committee. The Committee will debate and vote on whether or not to confirm every nomination made by a President. (it used to require 3/5 of the senate or 60 votes but since 2017 only requires a "simple majority" or 51 votes for confirmation)

I want to take a quick aside here and go a little philosophical in understanding judicial impartiality, because I hope it will help you have some perspective on how it's an inherently difficult matter. Ultimately the court's impartiality comes down to checks/balances and faith. Not religious faith, but faith in humanity and honesty. Trusting that there is no hidden motive or lies or manipulation at play. We tend to have to rely heavily on the checks and balances part since faith in humanity can be easily manipulated with lobbying and politicians eagerness to look bipartisan for popularity in elections (appealing as more bipartisan is considered a way of winning over more votes like centrists and those just left and right of it). Checks and balances allows oversight of the 3 branches over one another and attempting to keep the scales balanced in order to prevent any one branch being too powerful and ultimately to avoid the US being something more like a monarchy - which was a primary goal at the time of forming the constitution and government since it is what we had fought to escape in the first place.

"So judges aren't allowed their 1st amendment rights?!"

Humans are merely humans no matter what title they have or role they play and humans are inherently flawed and partial. Nobody is perfect and some make mistakes as well as bad faith decisions for ulterior motives (could be a matter of loyalty to well funded lobbyists or even general unchecked and ultimately supported ignorance or a power grab). After and throughout checks and balances, that is where the faith part comes in that we hope we can trust judges to put their personal opinion aside and go with what the evidence presented in court and the law and super precedents tell them. We trust the Committee to do their due diligence in researching nominees and asking them tough questions. Realistically everyone can and likely will have some kind of opinion on any major issue, so it is not that anyone expects a justice to not have a personal opinion, only that they not use it to determine their decision in court. So, say i was a judge looking at a defendant accused of a civil rights infringement and i personally felt that they were guilty but there was no or not enough "valid" evidence to prove it, I couldn't assert they are guilty just based off my own opinion. I would have to depend on the evidence shown in court proving that it has infringed on precedents or existing law.

(All the appointments made by trump can be viewed more in detail here.)

"BLAHBLAHBLAH WHAT ABOUT THE SUPREME COURT"

It would be too tumultuous for me to dig into each of the 3 Supreme Court judge appointments by trump in regards to current issues around Roe v Wade, so I'm going to focus on one that is likely most relevant in particular: Amy Coney Barrett. Barrett was an appointment made when Ruth Bader Ginsburg's passing caused a vacancy in the court. (Why didn't she retire under Obama? The Senate was GOP controlled which made the odds of a pro-choice appointment being confirmed low). RGB was well known for being a strong advocate for the right to choose and for a long time was a stronghold in the court to ensure Roe v Wade was upheld. Since trump wouldn't want to lose too many votes from women and allies to women, he made the clear choice to appoint a woman which is what i would call performative in the case that though Barrett is a woman she does not particularly stand on the side of women's rights.

In day two of Barrett's confirmation hearing, Senator Klobuchar honed in on Barrett's opinions regarding Roe v Wade - especially as to whether it is considered what is called a "super precedent", an important matter when talking about codification. Klobuchar makes it clear that Barrett has said she finds Brown v BoE to be a super precedent despite the Supreme Court never impressing that opinion, but refuses to consider Roe v Wade a super precedent despite that being a Supreme Court opinion. Barrett's argument is that "scholarly literature" she has read has asserted it is not a super precedent because calls for its overrule has never ceased, where as cases such as Brown v Board "nobody questions anymore". Klobuchar digs in again asking if US v Virginia Military is a "super precedent" and Barrett refuses to answer - or as she phrases it "grade" - because it wasn't one of the cases Barrett spoke about in an article she had written.

After Klobuchar asked Barrett if Roe v Wade is a super precedent, Barrett asked Klobuchar how the Senator defines a super precedent. Reasonably so, Klobuchar - who is a senator and not a judge - scoffs and puts that responsibility back on Barrett who was nominated to be a Supreme Court judge. Barrett obliges and asserts a definition that she uses is of (supposedly not conservative) ONE scholarly opinion which depends on a case being "so well settle that no political actors and no people seriously push to overrule"

In a scholarly opinion in 2006 by Michael J Gerhardt at University of North Carolina School of Law defined a super precedent in many ways one being "decisions whose correctness is no longer a viable issue for courts to decide; it is no longer a matter on which courts will expend their limited resources."

However:

in the Roberts hearings, Charles Fried, a prominent conservative legal scholar at Harvard, agreed explicitly that Roe was a superprecedent. As solicitor general under President Ronald Reagan, Mr. Fried had asked the court to overturn Roe. But testifying on behalf of Judge Roberts, he said that Roe had become a super-duper precedent that would not and should not be overturned, because it was reaffirmed in 1992 and extended in subsequent decisions protecting gay rights and the right to die.

Here is a good example of what happens in academia and why i take "scholarly research" with a heap of salt since I have experience in doing scholarly research. When you are doing research, your audience is trusting that you have run through all the hard work of researching both sides of a specific matter - not just looking up opinions based on whether they are from a conservative or a liberal as that is not supposed to be what determines their opinion on any particular matter.

You are supposed to be actually looking into all the differing opinions on the specific subject matter. While it does help to have a context of the profile of the one giving the opinion, it is the evidence they present in their argument that is what should be prioritized in research. The audience is also trusting that the sources the researcher uses are valid, researched, and impartial and that any studies they use are peer reviewed and use proper methodology and are also impartial without any sway from funders. Since many academic resources that would elaborate on these details are often gatekept through paywalls or language or other accessibility barriers, it can be difficult for the general population to do their own research - the majority of which do not have access for one reason or another - they are left with nothing but to choose to have faith the researcher they are reading did their job earnestly.

Barrett focusing on opinions from scholars (actually it seems she is more dependent on one particular scholar's opinion - Gerhardt as seen in notes 128-132) based on whether or not they are typically conservative scholars is basing it on an irrelevant matter when she should have been taking on all opinions about super precedents and digging into comparing and contrasting them based on whether or not they hold water. It seems more like she sought a defense for her pre-determined opinion and insulated it from challenge by excluding any other assertions despite their significance. She ultimately failed at her responsibility as a researcher.

On Wednesday 9/2/21, the Supreme Court voted 5-4 to not block Texas SB8, a decision that weakens Roe v Wade.

Now this has been a very long form way of spelling out just SOME of the impact that trump has had on the judicial branch. I want to now go back to 2016 when he was elected, and try to extrapolate why what happened in that election was a serious failure in regards to those responsible for casting their votes: The People.

"We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."

"We the people" is every single resident and/or citizen of the nation at any time. The constitution is essentially a contract drawn up between every single one of us including those born and raised here, those who move here, those who's communities were here before the formation of the nation, and those who may be a citizen but living elsewhere. The diversity of The People in every faucet of human life makes this document necessarily complicated and amendable. In consequence the way in which our government is also complicated but also amendable. One matter that has been a point of contention since the dawning of the nation is the right to vote.

Who could vote & When (.):

1776: white men over 21 who owned land

1870 Racial barriers eliminated tho 15th is not enforced by states

1920: white women can vote

1924: Native american's given voting rights

1964: Civil Rights Act - all above 21y/o may vote regardless of identifiers such as race - ensures Black people's right to vote

1971: Voting age lowered to 18

1984: Accessibility extended to disabled americans by setting accessibility standards

In between all of these are other matters that challenged the accessibility to voting for one population or another such as literacy tests, naturalization, and polling taxes. Many of the challenges were directly challenging to People of Color particularly Black Women. To this day there are still many who must fight to assert their right - a right that should never be denied, never be thought of as less than inherent. Access is less a concern for the wealthy and well to do as their needs are never on the line the way it is for people who are poor, Black, disabled, immigrant, or even just have a primary language other than English.

For those of us who have never had to fight to utilize our right to vote in our life have too often shown that we do not respect the power in this right. Or rather know exactly how powerful it is and choose to use that power in a destructive way because we aren't getting our faves. For the first many many years I was eligible to vote, I refused to at all because I do not like how our government and politicians conducts themselves. As soon as I learned about the filibuster I was so pissed I didn't want to partake at all. Have I be impacted by this personally? To an effect, but not in a way that impacts my life significant enough for me to really notice. But in congruence with other privileged decisions not to vote, it has certainly impacted many lives. In a nation where communities are still fighting to have the law meant to protect them properly enforced, it is entirely a privilege abused to choose not to vote.

Though I was 18 in 2007, 2016 I cast my first vote.

Why? Because it was finally looking as though I may face personal consequences if I didn't. Prior to 2016 i wasn't worried bc there was obama, i wasn't old enough to vote when bush was up for relection and seeing him win again embittered me further. by the time I was 18, I saw how unreliable 3rd party was despite my parents being all in that gambit, and otherwise it all felt like nobody was paying attention to the issues only on popularity contests. All i thought of though was my perspective on the matter. It was all me-centric, my choice to withhold from voting in any election. When trump started to look less like a joke and actually got traction, I saw my neighbors trump signs and i looked at where i was in life. I had also began to actually do the work and stop letting apathy guide my decisions, but to rather listen to my humanity and my responsibility as my neighbor's neighbor.

Quite literally. At the time my neighbor was a Black woman. I only spoke to her once and it was when she came by to selflessly make sure I was going to be ok when our landlord was kicking us out to sell the place out from under our feet - something I hadn't even considered doing yet seemed like second nature for her to do (to be fair i was struggling to find a place but i've no idea about her life). I wish i had gotten her name and stayed in touch, it's kind-hearted people like that that are hard to come by. I'm still working on being as selfless.

I was and am proud to have not only voted in 2016, but for my first vote to have been for a woman. I was scared and for someone other than myself for once in 2016. I had high hopes for Clinton based on name recognition and basic common sense.

Humans are not perfect. Nor are they inherently humble.

Trump encouraged arrogance among the most ignorant leaning right. Sanders encouraged arrogance in the most ignorant leaning left. Clinton seemed to always get the most dramatic fire though from both sides, which signaled to me some kind of mess was going on. My own parents tried to sell me on Sanders, but by this point I had a better concept of how to properly research and untangle the mythologies that were parroted by my own parents about Clinton. Even when I proved their parroted lies wrong they were unwilling to concede, only to move the goal post or deflect.

Now, I get to my point.

Which is to really smack upside the head of anyone who chose not to vote in 2016, everyone who is left or liberal but voted for trump, everyone who wrote in someone else. If trump hadnt made it in as POTUS, paired with the republican majority senate, the landscape of the judicial branch would not have faced such a conservative shift, it wouldn't have given mcconnell so much influence, it wouldn't have resulted in the pandemic being so much worse than it needed to be. Many lives would have been spared. You can only blame the government for so long until you realize we are the government, we install the government, and we hold power we must use wisely. We the People.

Many who voted for clinton have been critical of her. As we always should be critical of those we choose in any level of government. We the people hold responsibilities that build this nation from the ground up, and without adherence to those responsibilities it puts other's rights in danger. When we decide that something doesn't matter that much to us or weighing it against the consequences we may personally face - you're failing in your responsibility to your neighbor who is likely doing far more justice to you than you are extending to them.

Yes my white people i look at you.

Yes my white men I look at you.

Yes my white queers I look at you.

Yes my white degree holders I look at you.

Yes white youth I look at you where I once was. When I was younger and arrogant and naive and apathetic and bitter and I let all that guide my choices instead of my concern for the neighbor who was looking out for me.

I still matter in the formation and function of tomorrow's government and I'm going to make sure I let my impact be constructive for all my neighbors who have extended such courtesy to me by not shirking my main duty to make an informed vote in every election i may partake in from local to national.

The differences among us in this nation may seemingly tend to fall along party lines, what the real metric is:

Do you give a fuck outside your own home?

Or is it just about what you want, what you think, what you feel? Nothing in this nation is just involving you or your bestie or your family, we're in this together whether we like it or not. Trust me as someone who struggles daily to find the humanity in others, I know how toxic that can be to your perspective when you give into it. Believe in benefit of the doubt, believe in change, believe in your power to do good for others. Believe and invest in your humanity.

While i can be mad at conservative votes for trump that was to be expected. I'm far more disappointed in the right AND DUTY to vote being given up by so many on the left simply because their fave didn't make it to the finals. That is not how establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, or secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity. AOC and Pressley and Porter did not make it where they are by their supportive constituents abdicating their right to vote.

I accept my faults in never having voted before 2016 even in local elections. It was stupid and selfish and 2016 woke me up to that reality. You don't go from 0 to trump overnight. Do you accept your fault in not voting in 2016 when one of the most detrimental candidates was running and won?

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tiramisiyu · 4 years ago

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【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: Main Story 4-1 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Video

Chapter 4 – Heart’s Fire: 4-1 / 4-3 / 4-5 / 4-6 / 4-8 / 4-9 / 4-11 / 4-12 / 4-13 / 4-15 / 4-17 / 4-18

I originally did not translate this part when translating Chapter 4, but for the sake of completion, I’m putting this here now! I am also planning to go through the rest of the Ch.4 translation to revise and check it again, in coming days.

Café

While I was sorting out Gong Cheng’s experiment notes with Zuo Ran, I suddenly received a call from Lu Jinghe.

[Flashback]

Lu Jinghe: Hey, you busy right now? Could you come out for a bit? I’m right at the café downstairs from your law firm.

MC: What is it that’s this urgent?

Lu Jinghe: I’d like to entrust you with a case, and I can’t talk about it clearly over phone. Otherwise, I wouldn’t specially come over.

Lu Jinghe: Have I impeded your work? My apologies, if it really isn’t convenient, could I meet up with you after work tonight?

Lu Jinghe: Taking up your rest time doesn’t seem to be that good either, but I…

What would trouble Lu Jinghe to this extent? My curious heart was hooked on by him.

MC: I’ve got time right now. Wait for me for a bit – I’ll go let Lawyer Zuo know.

Hearing that Lu Jinghe was looking for me, Zuo Ran furrowed his eyebrows, but he didn’t hold me back.

I hurriedly cleaned up and rushed straight to the café downstairs.

As soon as I came in, I heard the sound of Lu Jinghe’s fingers snapping. He was sitting at a booth by the window, waving at me.

MC: Since this thing has made you so anxious, could it be that you’ve noticed a clue about that fake Artist Z?

After the case where Lu Jinghe was framed for murder, he and I went to see an art exhibition again, yet we unexpectedly encountered an Artist Z counterfeit case.

To artist Lu Jinghe, the nature of this case was extremely vile. We recently have been looking for related clues nonstop, but there were no developments for now.

Lu Jinghe: It’s not related to Artist Z. What’s up, have you been concerned about that case the whole time?

Lu Jinghe: Thank you, I hope it didn’t add extra burdens onto you.

Without silver-tongued smooth talking or playful teasing, Lu Jinghe actually thanked me in complete earnestness?!

MC: You’re a bit different from usual today – exactly what issue did you run into?

Lu Jinghe: Have you heard of the person named Huang Haochu?

MC: Is it that famous appraiser and Leinster Auction House’s partner, Huang Haochu?

Lu Jinghe: Right, that’s him. He counts as the one who enlightened me on the path of art, and I’ve always respected him deeply.

MC: But I remember that last year, Huang Haochu… was murdered?

Lu Jinghe: Yes, Teacher Huang is no longer here.

Lu Jinghe: Last year, a scandal on Leinster counterfeited auction goods was exposed, and public opinion pointed towards Teacher Huang as the one behind it.

Lu Jinghe: The media claimed that Cui Yuan, Leinster’s boss, got into conflict with Teacher Huang due to accountability questions about the counterfeit case.

Lu Jinghe: In their fight, Cui Yuan used his own tie to suffocate Teacher Huang to death.

The alleged counterfeit goods scandal stated that, after a deal was reached on Leinster’s auctions, they would use fakes to replace the authentic goods, handing them to the purchasers.

The replaced authentic goods appeared on the artwork black market. Leinster sold them twice, exploiting this for large profit.

After this matter occurred, Leinster Auctions’ reputation took a nosedive, verging on bankruptcy.

Boss Cui Yuan found appraiser and partner Huang Haochu, requesting that he come forward and bear the responsibility, and to cut ties with the company, but he was rejected by Huang Haochu.

Due to this, the two fought, which led up to a murder.

MC: I saw a related report online, but my impression was… there still hasn’t been a judgement on this murder case?

Lu Jinghe: There is indeed no judgement. Plus, the true circumstances of the case is as different as can be from what the media reported.

Lu Jinghe: In their investigation, the police noticed that the police did not murder Huang Haochu maliciously. Instead, he assisted Teacher Huang, who had depression, commit suicide.

MC: Assisted suicide?! Does Cui Yuan not know that this is illegal?

Lu Jinghe: The police speculated that Teacher Huang had started considering death due to depression, to begin with.

Lu Jinghe: With Cui Yuan assisting his suicide, it would be perfect timing to use this tragedy to counter the unfavourable public opinions brought by the counterfeit auction goods, thus saving Leinster.

MC: These methods sound…

Lu Jinghe: Hah, I also don’t agree with the police’s conclusion. Plus, Cui Yuan himself has remained firm in not pleading guilty.

Lu Jinghe: After Cui Yuan was arrested, he said the whole time that he had nothing to do with Teacher Huang’s murder, and he knew nothing of the murder.

Lu Jinghe: He wants to plead innocence for himself, and has gone through several lawyers due to this, resulting in the repeated postponement of trial time.

Lu Jinghe: The day before yesterday, the court decided that a trial would be held for this case next Thursday, and they would not extend the time period again.

MC: It was probably the Public Prosecution that raised a lawsuit for this case. It couldn’t be that you’re looking for me to defend Cui Yuan?

Lu Jinghe: In name, you would be defending Cui Yuan, but in reality, I want to request you to help me find out Teacher Huang’s real murderer.

MC: Huh? You believe that Cui Yuan was not the murderer?

Lu Jinghe: No. To me, he is still one of this case’s suspects.

Lu Jinghe: It’s just that the emotional pain and guilt he’s displayed towards Teacher Huang doesn’t look at all like he’s putting on an act to be exonerated.

Lu Jinghe: I suspect that this case truly does have another, hidden story, and I can’t just sit and watch without doing anything.

MC: It’s already been nearly a year since this case, and few clues are left. Hopes of this case being reversed are very weak.

MC: Plus, it’s already Friday today, and there’s only five whole days of time. I’m afraid that there’s not enough time…

Lu Jinghe: I apologize, I know I’m troubling you…

Lu Jinghe: I also just found out about this inside info on the case. Otherwise, I wouldn’t think about investigating so long after the case happened.

Lu Jinghe: If the Lu family’s lawyers appear in this case, it would only hype up and feed into the media, and it would be incredibly unfavourable to the investigation. So…

MC: You’ve misunderstood, I’m not finding excuses to evade this. I just didn’t want to let you down. Plus, there are some things I must say upfront.

MC: If it’s just investigating the truth, of course there’s no problem. But I cannot lightly agree to being the defense lawyer, with regards to the suspect’s vital interests.

MC: I require that I meet with Cui Yuan first. Only after getting an understanding of the details of the case can I decide whether to defend him.

Lu Jinghe: We’ll do as you say. I’m already very grateful that you’re willing to try, and I naturally won’t make you accomplish anything.

MC: In a moment, I’ll go look up the files on this case to understand the details of the police’s investigation.

Lu Jinghe: Thank you for your hard work. I still ended up bringing trouble to you.

Lu Jinghe lowered his head and lifted the coffee cup, revealing a sliver of sadness as he spoke.

Lu Jinghe: People on the outside often think that the Pax Group is enormously powerful, and there is nothing that the heir to Pax can’t do.

Lu Jinghe: But it’s actually the exact opposite. I have a lot more instances of “no other alternatives” and “no way out” compared to typical people, due to my identity.

Lu Jinghe: Around me, the friends that I can speak truthfully with are very few.

Seeming like his own words induced some state of mind on him, he sank into silence, turning to look out the window.

The sun shone on his slim ears, and the gemstone studs reflected a dazzling light, but there was no way to disperse of the desolation in his appearance.

MC: Don’t you still have me? I’m your friend.

Lu Jinghe: Yes, I still have you. Good thing I have you.

#tears of themis #tears of themis translations #mihoyo #未定事件簿 #lu jinghe #tot translation

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crowleyellestair · 5 years ago

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Hello! * waves hand excitingly like a five years old* Could You please write somethig for Eskel? I love him so much and there are just a few drabbles about him. I was thinking something fluffly? Like he's courting reader (or something like the blurb you wrote)? He's such soft boi

Sorry for the tardiness, but I’m officially done with the college semester, and can finally get to writing!

AN// He is a soft boi. Bashful boy, I call him. Much longer than I intended, but I hope you like it!!

Aedd Gynvael was out of the way for any witcher, unless one was coming back to Kaer Morhen from the Dragon Mountains. There was really no reason Eskel had made his way up to the place the first time round. He hadn’t had any food for the trail, but he was also a week early, and could easily hunt. Maybe it was his distinct need for people. Despite being a witcher, he still enjoyed company. He loved his pack, but Lambert wasn’t the freshest flower to take all contact from. Gynvael wasn’t exactly the best place for large numbers, and proved perfect for small interactions. Maybe he had made his way up for one final contract. Usually, Eskel reveled in the relaxation and laidback training, but he felt something under his skin, aching to expel energy.

Maybe it was fate.

That’s what Dandelion had believed, at least. Eskel didn’t know how he found himself asking the bard for help either, but mindlessly walking to Gynvael had worked out so perfectly- the very thing that led him here now. Y/n was a bookshop owner that had moved there after her aunt passed. She had lived in the south, and had quite the enterprise, though she felt she had a duty to keep that store in her family. He hadn’t known there was a bookstore there, and it seemed quite old. Again, most witchers don’t happen upon Aedd Gynvael, but Eskel had connections. Every bookstore knew of every other official store, yet he had never heard of this one. It was luck that only a month before he had visited, Y/n took over the shop.

It was even more luck he had come upon for her to be a gentle soul, happily inviting him in. Y/n had taken one look at him and pointed him to a few books he had loved, somehow reading him just as easily as the books that surrounded them. Y/n had actually found some titles he hadn’t heard of, and he left after a great discussion on the validity of new Elven poetry with a handful of new books.

It wasn’t until he had made it back to the fortress that he found a small book under the pile. A short Dwarven love novella. Now, Eskel loved books, and he didn’t discriminate on what he read. He does have preferences though, and a guilty pleasure of his were those small love stories that wives read once they finished with their sewing circles. There was a long contemplation on whether or not she was a mage or had some form of magic, but he remembered not feeling anything. So, once winter had passed, he decided to place the books on his personal shelves, and take some important texts back to her that she lacked in her personal selection.

A year had passed, and when he went back, he found the woman still in the little shop. A small bundle of books was wrapped for his reappearance, despite her admitting she wasn’t sure he’d ever visit again. Eskel had spent a week in town, arriving two weeks earlier, so he could have time to spare.

Eskel wasn’t one to rush into things, unless he was following his fellow wolf. But he trusted them to have at least some semblance of a plan. With Y/n, however, he was ready to rush into anything headfirst. There were too many kind smiles or polite offerings that he would be a fool to even think of passing her by. When he heard Dandelion was visiting for the winter, he hadn’t thought of the repercussions of courting the woman, he simply asked how he could.

So, there they sat, the grand hall empty despite the two at the table. The witcher had snuck away from scaffolding to try and get the bard alone. There were brown locks being tucked under a bonnet despite there not being a need for the feathered hat. Eskel had started to regret asking, as the younger man seemed too excited to help.

“I’m just saying that it might help if I saw the lady.”

“I don’t need an audience, bard. I simply need ideas for courting.” His hand brushed his cheek, and his eyes casted to the table. “I haven’t been near any court in a while, and I don’t know what is considered acceptable.”

“Aedd Gynvael hasn’t seen a proper court in a while either.” Golden eyes shot up to the poet, and he sighed apologetically. “What have you done so far? Where do you want this to go? A simple romp or something a little more permanent?” While the witcher had started this, he certainly wasn’t ready to finish it. He doesn’t want any of the brothers to walk in, but an excuse to get him out of the mess he has created would be welcome.

“Don’t know yet. I gave her some old tomes for her personal collection, and I hung around town to just…talk.” And they had. Eskel had walked her to and from everywhere she went, and they spoke of everything. He didn’t know what it was, but she was able to coax stories out of him like syrup over hot pastries. The man had unburdened himself of so much over the week that was soaked up by a caring ear. It was a blessing and a curse, as it meant that Y/n didn’t speak too much of herself, thoroughly making courting much harder. Eskel didn’t know her favorite flower or poem. He wasn’t even sure if she truly loved music- all things that normal courtship has and expresses love.

Love

Maybe too early to say such a word, but the excitement of him being able to have it in the future when he thought he could never be on the receiving end has set everything on a faster timetable. But he doesn’t want to cheap out on her- Y/n deserves proper courting. Proper courting for a proper lady. It was clear that she was more of a lady than any in high courts or any daughter of a noble. Hell, she could be more of a man than most, as well. But maybe he shouldn’t bring that up to her. She might laugh at the thought, but even the slimmest chance of offending puts that off the table.

“Eskel, my friend, out of everyone here, I expected you to be the romantic. Yet here you are, giving me nothing to work with.” Julian’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, though the pressure to add more pushed them from his mind out into the open.

“She’s manly.”

“What?” Shock and confusion painted his face, and Eskel felt like his face would melt by the embarrassment.

“I mean… Y/n has a way about her. She’s more noble than most knights I know. Her time in the south hadn’t treated her right, but despite that, it was her home. She only moved up here because her aunt wanted the store to stay in the family.” Dandelion nodded in understanding before his hand went to cup his own chin in thought.

“She’s a bookstore owner, lives on her own, has gone through hard times in the south…hm. Write her your own poetry.” Eskel practically choked on the inhale of breath at his advice.

“My own? I don’t think that’s wise.” The poet’s brow raised, not believing that his advice isn’t being taken. Eskel started to internally scold himself now that he needs to write poetry. He’s read thousands of poems, but that didn’t mean he was qualified to write his own.

“Eskel, I’m trying to help you start. I know it seems farfetched, but what do you have in mind? You need something for her to remember you by. If you’re traipsing in the south for two thirds of the year, she needs something powerful and from the heart.” The witcher’s shoulders sagged an inch, conceding to his fate.

“When you put it like that, bard, it makes sense.” The two men stare at each other for a couple of moments, Dandelion letting the older man work through his thoughts. Bashfully, the witcher’s hand found his cheek again, feeling the heat under even the scarred skin. “How do I… start?”

Winter came and went for the shopkeeper. Gynvael didn’t have much foot traffic, but Y/n had started to incorporate a library system within the shop, allowing people to borrow for a smaller fee. The change of weather from the south to the north had been drastic, and the first winter had been dreadful. This winter, however, was made much warmer due to the heat in her chest. Eskel hadn’t visited after the first winter, only giving her the books once he made his way back before this one. The thought of him carrying important tomes for half a year just for her had a way of lighting her world. Being a business owner herself often scared away suitors despite their interests in her. Court life was also difficult. In the south, she was either made fun of for reading too much, or she wasn’t encouraged to express opinions created by these books, even if they were historically accurate. The north had been a nice change. And despite the weather and longing, Y/n wouldn’t change her station after the witcher tried to sneak into her store as to not be seen by the rest of the public.

The large man had seemed swept off his feet by her, and she couldn’t believe it. A small bookstore owner lifting him up just through books and being kind? It made her yearn to know what he had gone through. She had gotten some stories, but she knew she’d sit and wait her whole life if she had to, just to hear more about him.

When the bell went off in her shop, she now only wished it to be that man. Winter was officially over, but Y/n understood her location in relation to the rest of the continent. It would be out of his way to travel to her, then travel south, but when she didn’t hear footsteps after the bell, her heart soared. As she suspected, the large man stood in the lobby of the shop, arms tight to himself, and eyes casting everywhere on high alert.

“Did I miss the year, or are you really here after winter?” A large smile spread on her face upon seeing the man. She would never admit to anyone that her smile grew upon seeing his red face match the color of his gambeson. Though, she was sure that he could hear how fast her heart was.

“I wanted to see you.” It slipped past his lips without running through his filter, and his heart also sped. “I mean, I have something for you.” Eskel was fine and excited to start something, but he didn’t want to seem like he was dragging her along due to his speed. He wanted to be by her side every step of the way. The brown parcel in his hand was burning, and he regretted how fast he jabbed the wrapped item towards her. The witcher was mesmerized as her smile never faltered. Y/n’s fingertips brushed gently along the back of his fingers as she took hold of it, and Eskel did everything in his power not to flinch. When his hand was emptied, he did everything in his power not to reach out. The woman nodded towards the seat behind the counter, and pulled the small footstool out from between some shelves. Even after he insisted heavily during his last visit, she always made sure he sat in the chair, rather than the stool or standing.

She sat, carefully unfolding the brown wrappings, as if that too was apart of something precious. Eskel’s hands started to fidget in his lap. Y/n sat in front of him, looking like a black pearl on shore. The smile faded to a gentle grin, but the joy of his return was ever present. A light dress was all she wore, seemingly used to the colder weather, and now it being spring, trying to reason with mother nature to bring warmer tides simply through fashion. Her hair was down, caringly cupping her face as a mother did a babe. Gentle eyes tried to catch glimpses of him, seemingly not capable of holding resentment for him. The more he thought about everything that was perfect about her, he started to try and predict what her reaction might be. He was lucky enough to travel down the trail with Geralt and Dandelion, who reassured him every step of the way. Now, he can’t bare what his mind has conjured. He finally made his mind up, moving to leave when he heard a small gasp.

The small book had been hard to make, but he was pretty proud with how it turned out in the end. There had been a witcher, long passed, that had been a poet, who had kept a book in their library. Vesemir had given it to him, somehow finding out his plan. The cover and spine were nice, but the pages had been falling out. There weren’t any extra pages either, but Vesemir had paper pulping supplies the younger witcher used. After finishing the paper, he rearranged everything, attaching it to the spine and adding some ironwork detailing at the edges. The first half was poetry and musing of the other witcher about life and witchering, but the second half was all Eskel’s poetry of the woman now holding the book.

Y/n gently carded through the pages, stopping on the little note he wrote for her at the start of his section. It was simple and quick, but lifechanging for her.

Remember me. I’ll always come back.

The witcher could hear- almost feel, her heart pounding. The grin had spread like a wildfire and she bolted from her small stool into his standing form. The arms around his waist were crushing, but he quickly folded himself around her as well.

‘Would you mind reading some to me?” she asked. Of course, he had agreed, and she closed the shop despite it being morning. He was brought to her home above the shop, and was in the common room were there wasn’t a couch, but a cushion area by the window. She sat, back to chest as he read to her. They both had seemed to fall asleep, waking the next day. Eskel had to leave, but he gave her the address of the postal in the south that he would visit twice while away if she ever had the inclination to send something. She told him that she would probably start writing even minutes after he would leave, as she would already miss him. Before he left, he noticed a shelf completely empty besides a handful of books. He knew the tomes he gave her were in her room, but when asked, it was apparently for him.

“I order things from other places, or sometimes I leave for Oxenfort showings, and I grab things I think you’ll like. I already have a new parcel, if you want to take some for the road. If not, you always have a shelf here.” Eskel agreed, and promised to write to her. It was a month into traveling, and he had already lost his small comb on the bottom of his bag.

As he rummaged through, he found another small book that he didn’t remember putting in there. He pulled it out, recognizing the quickly scrawled authors name. The inside of the cover had a small, fine writing made out to him.

I know the author of that Dwarvish novela, and asked if he’d write a second part after you said you’d enjoyed the first. It’s your own personal copy, as he isn’t going to ever publish it. Enjoy.

There’s another note under it, somewhat smudged due to the ink not drying in the time she wrote it and closed the book.

There’s no way I could ever forget you. I’ll always be waiting

(Check out my other Eskel Blurb : Reading)

#witcher imagine #witcher x reader #eskel imagine #eskel x reader

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scripttorture · 5 years ago

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Human Rights: An Introduction

The Human Rights Act is a piece of legislation most people have probably heard of but there’s a lack of understanding about what it actually says and does.

For a start there’s a difference between the Human Rights Act and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The former is a set of laws from the 1990s based around the European Convention on Human Rights. The latter is a state from the UN just after the Second World War which was envisioned as a roadmap to a better, more humane world.

This is a brief introduction, I’m not a lawyer, going into the detail is beyond me and probably only useful for a very small minority of stories. Keep in mind that I’m UK based and the content and enforcement of human rights laws varies from country to country.

Behind the Universal Declaration of Human Rights is a rather revolutionary idea: that everyone, regardless of who they are or what they’ve done, is entitled to a basic standard of treatment simply because they’re human.

I’m going to go through the Universal Declaration as a quick, bullet point list to give an idea of what people see as essential to human rights. I’m going to go through the articles of the Human Rights Act in more detail to give an idea of how countries turn the ideals into law.

The Universal Declaration of Human Rights

All human beings are born free and equal.

Everyone is equal regardless of race, colour, sex, language, religion, politics or where they were born.

Everyone has the right to life and to live in freedom and safety.

Everyone has the right to be free from slavery.

Everyone has the right to be free from torture.

Everyone has the right to be recognised before the law.

We are all equal before the law.

Everyone has the right to seek justice if their rights are violated.

Everyone has the right to be free from arbitrary arrest, detention or exile.

Everyone has the right to a fair trial.

Everyone has the right to be presumed innocent until proven guilty.

Everyone has the right to privacy and freedom from attacks on their reputation.

Everyone has the right to freedom of movement and to be free to leave and return to their own country.

Everyone has the right to seek asylum from persecution.

Everyone has the right to a nationality.

Everyone has the right to marry and to have a family.

Everyone has the right to own property.

Everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion.

Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression.

Everyone has the right to freedom of peaceful assembly and association.

Everyone has the right to take part in government and to have equal access to public service.

Everyone has the right to social security.

Everyone has the right to work, to equal pay, to protection against unemployment and the right to form and join trade unions.

Everyone has the right to rest and leisure.

Everyone has the right to a decent standard of living, including food, clothing, housing, medical care and social services.

Everyone has the right to education.

Everyone has the right to participate in and enjoy culture, art and science.

Everyone has the right to a social and international order where the rights in this Declaration can be fully realised.

We have a duty to other people and we should protect their rights and freedoms.

Nobody can take away these rights and freedoms from us.

The Human Rights Act

There are 14 Articles in the Human Rights Act. I’m not covering Article 1 and Article 13 because they effectively state that countries should apply the Human Rights Act and enforce laws protecting human rights. There’ll be a sentence or two about what each Article says and a little bit of unpacking what that means.

Article 2: Right to life.

This actually has quite a broad application. It does mean that nobody has the right to end another person’s life, but it also means that states have a responsibility to protect people’s lives and consider whether any action effects life expectancy. Making a hospital inaccessible to a group of people could breach their right to life if it means their life expectancy drops.

An exception is made for authority figures using ‘proportionate force’ in the course of arrest, escape from prisons or to prevent violence against other people.

Article 3: Right to freedom from torture and inhuman or degrading treatment.

This does what it says on the tin. It bans to use of deliberately inflicted pain (mental or physical) using the legal definition of torture. It then expands that to include the same acts in scenarios that wouldn’t legally be torture.

Article 4: Right to freedom from slavery and forced labour.

This Article defines and bans slavery. You can read more about modern slavery in this ask.

There are a couple of exceptions, the first is sentenced community service or prison labour. The next is state-sponsered relief efforts in an emergency. So if there’s an earthquake and your character is capable of taking part in relief efforts governments can require them to take part. It also doesn’t cover things that are classed as normal parts of being a citizen, such as jury duty.

Article 5: Right to liberty and security.

The idea behind this is individual protection from unreasonable imprisonment. Essentially it means that if you’re arrested you need to be told why and what the charges are. You need to be taken to court promptly, have a trial as quickly as is practical and be able to challenge your imprisonment in court if you think it’s unlawful.

It essentially means that a character can only be imprisoned by the state if there’s a clear, lawful reason for it, such as being found guilty of a crime or being sectioned under laws relating to mental health.

Article 6: Right to a fair trial.

This counts for characters charged with a crime and for characters who think state action has impacted their civil rights.

It means that cases need to be held in a reasonable time, by impartial decision makers. People involved are given all the relevant information and have access to lawyers and interpreters.

It also means that a character who is going to court should: be presumed innocent, allowed to remain silent, told what they’re charged with, provided with a lawyer, given time to prepare their case, given any relevant information, allowed to attend their trial, put forward their side of the story and question or call witnesses.

There are restrictions on Article 6. In the UK there are exceptions under immigration law, tax law and laws to do with voting rights. People can also be restricted from accessing courts if they miss a defined time limit for bringing a case to court or if they repeatedly bring cases that are judged as a waste of time.

Article 7: No punishment outside the law.

This means that a character shouldn’t be charged with a crime if their action wasn’t against the law when they did it.

There is an exception for anything that is ‘against the general law of civilised nations’. What that essentially means is that if a character commits war crimes (ie genocide) they can be charged even if there isn’t a specific law on the books.

Article 8: Right to a private and family life.

This one is pretty broad. It essentially boils down to the idea that a state can’t tell you who to form a relationship with or how valuable those relationships are. The state also can’t dictate what your lifestyle should be, so long as you’re not harming anyone else.

The simplest part of this is characters having a right to remain in contact with their families. But it also means a right to developing a personal identity, covering things like figuring out sexuality, deciding how to dress, how to live and how to participate in society. In it’s broadest sense this means a state has an obligation to make sure all groups of people can participate in social, cultural, economic and leisure activities. It also means a state should make sure no one’s personal information is shared without their consent.

Interfering with a character’s rights under this Article need to be proportionate and there needs to be a good reason, such as preventing a crime or protecting the rights and freedoms of other people.

Article 9: Freedom of thought, belief and religion.

This Article protects the right to hold beliefs, change them and, to a certain extent, put them into practice. It includes no-religious beliefs, such as atheism and pacifism. But it does need to be sincere, serious and concern important aspects of human life.

The right to hold and change beliefs is regarded as absolute but the right to put them into practice can be suspended in order to protect public safety, health or the rights and freedoms of other people. Once again, this is supposed to be proportionate.

Article 10: Freedom of expression.

This covers public protest but it also covers the media, books, art, TV and the internet. It counts for the person giving and receiving information, so it doesn’t just cover the producers of a show but the audience as well.

It’s supposed to protect an individual if they want to criticise the government or other prominent individuals but it also covers fiction and the arts.

And once again there is an allowance for proportionate restrictions to prevent crime and protect other people. Which means that hate speech is not protected. Information can also be suppressed to prevent prejudicing judges and to prevent release of private information that was given in confidence.

Article 11: Freedom of assembly and association.

The crux of this Article is that people should be allowed to form and join peaceful groups and shouldn’t be forced to join any groups. The usual examples are political parties and trade unions.

Again, this can be suspended if it’s a proportionate response that’s necessary to prevent a crime or protect other people’s rights.

Article 12: Right to marry and start a family.

Restrictions on this right mostly come from national laws about things like the age of majority (legal adulthood) and what counts as incest.

Article 14: Protection from discrimination in respect to these rights and freedoms.

This essentially means that all the rights and freedoms defined in the act apply to everyone. It covers things like race, disability and religion but it also covers things that aren’t discussed as often, like ‘illegitimate’ births, trade union membership and linguistic minorities.

It also covers indirect discrimination. Which means that if a general rule disadvantages a particular group it’s going against Article 14.

In short-

Human rights are a powerful, levelling concept and regardless of whether your story is set in the modern era they can be relevant. Consider whether the cultures in your world have equivalent concepts and whether they prioritise the same rights. If you’re writing fantasy or sci fi consider whether these rights and broader conception of personhood are extended to any non-human groups.

The concept of human rights grew out of violations of them. This codified standard came from a background of war crimes, and that means that the factors deemed worthy of protection say something about the cultures and history which fed into them.

Do all these factors apply to your world? Do the same kinds of discrimination exist, historically or in the present? What do people deem ‘proportionate’? Did historical trauma feed in to the concept of dignity and correct behaviour? Did it pre-date them? Is there even an attempt at defining universal rights or is everything dependent on the local law and culture?

Most stories are not going to need you to go through and define an equivalent (or not) of the Universal Declaration. But a rough idea could help you sketch out ideals about right and wrong, it can help to make a world feel more consistent, deeper and richer.

Available on Wordpress.

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#tw torture #masterpost #human rights #Universal Declaration of Human Rights #torture and the law #discrimination #international law #worldbuilding

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dark-and-twisty-01 · 5 years ago

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George Emil Banks

The first call was chilling enough: Two lay shot on a Wilkes-Barre street.

But as Robert Gillespie headed to the scene where George Emil Banks began his massacre 35 years ago this week, the scope of the situation began to mount as the bodies piled up. Gillespie was on Interstate 81 when the next call from a detective informed him of a second crime scene, in Jenkins Township. Four shot dead.

When Gillespie arrived in Wilkes-Barre, he learned that not only were the two there shot outside a home on Schoolhouse Lane — one fatally — but eight more bullet-riddled bodies were inside. Four were children. The two youngest were 1. Decades later, Gillespie can still see them.

“You never forget seeing a child that has been brutally murdered,” said Gillespie, the former Luzerne County district attorney who prosecuted Banks.

Thirty-five years later, Gillespie and Al Flora Jr., one of the attorneys Gillespie battled in the courtroom over Banks’ culpability and competency, reflected on the details and aftermath of the murderous rampage Banks wreaked on the Wyoming Valley on Sept. 25, 1982.

Banks gunned down five of his own children and eight other people on Schoolhouse Lane and in a Jenkins Township trailer park in the largest killing spree by a single mass murderer in Pennsylvania history. Most victims were shot at close range.

After a highly publicized trial that lasted just under two weeks, a jury from Allegheny County found Banks guilty of 13 counts of first-degree murder on June 22, 1983. The next day, the panel returned 12 death sentences and one life sentence for the murders. For the prosecution, the outcome was bittersweet.

“We had done nothing but work toward it for a year and there was some pride, but no pleasure, in hearing the jury actually assert he should be put to death,” Gillespie said. “But if there was ever anyone who deserved the death penalty, in my opinion, it was George Banks.”

Yet Banks, inmate No. AY6066, was never executed. Now 75, he remains on death row at Graterford, a maximum-security prison in Montgomery County. He is a distant shadow of his former self.

First violent crime: 1961

It wasn’t long after Banks was discharged from the Army that he committed his first serious violent crime, the shooting of an unarmed tavern-keeper during a robbery in 1961. He was sentenced to six to 15 years in prison, then was hit with additional time when he briefly escaped in 1964.

Despite the escape attempt, Banks was granted parole in 1969, and his sentence was commuted by Gov. Milton Shapp in 1974.

After prison, Banks was hired by the state, first by the Department of Environmental Resources, then as a guard at the State Correctional Institution at Camp Hill in Harrisburg.

Weeks before the murder spree, Banks was suspended from prison-guard duty after he locked himself in a guard tower with a shotgun and threatened to kill himself. Fellow guards also had complained Banks had been talking about committing a mass killing.

He was placed on involuntary sick leave and was supposed to see a psychologist on Sept. 29, 1982, but four days earlier he embarked on the unprovoked killing spree that defense attorneys have long argued was a product of paranoid delusion.

The night before the killings, Banks was at a birthday party in Wilkes-Barre where he drank beer, played darts and fawned over a woman’s T-shirt that read “Kill Them All and Let God Sort It Out.”

Banks and the woman switched shirts, and he donned it underneath military-style fatigues the next morning when he methodically began walking through his home firing an AR-15 rifle.

When the rampage ended hours later, Banks had killed 13 people at two homes — seven children, his three live-in girlfriends, an ex-girlfriend, his ex-girlfriend’s mother, and a bystander in the street. Five of the seven children were his own; he has fathered at least seven.

Banks holed up at 24 Monroe St. in Wilkes-Barre, where swarms of police tried to convince him he should give himself up because his five children were alive and in need of blood. A phony radio broadcast was played to support the ruse. Banks finally surrendered after a four-hour standoff.

‘A delusion’

Flora last met with Banks in 2010.

That year, after numerous rounds of appeals, Luzerne County Senior Judge Joseph Augello ruled Banks was too mentally ill to be executed, describing the inmate’s mindset as a “tossed salad of ideas and beliefs.”

Augello wrote that Banks is not competent to be executed “because he has a fixed, false belief, a delusion, that his sentence has been vacated by God, the governor and (former President) George W. Bush. He believes he is in prison illegally, and he should be going home. He should be out there ministering to the people, but there is a conspiracy against him.”

The U.S. Supreme Court upheld the ruling in 2012.

At trial, Banks’ bizarre behavior was a constant obstacle, Flora recalled. He refused to cooperate with Flora and fellow defense attorneys Basil Russin and Joseph Sklarosky Sr., who had hoped to have him declared not guilty by reason of insanity.

Banks took the stand in his own defense, then delivered a rambling account of the shootings. During that account, he showed jurors the gory photographs of his victims that his attorneys labored to keep out of trial. Banks, who is bi-racial, then claimed he had only wounded the victims and said racist police officers had fired the fatal shots to frame him.

Prosecutors argued Banks’ motive was based on his fear of losing control over his extended family.

The trial attracted such a throng of attention from relatives, onlookers and national media that presiding Judge Patrick J. Toole instituted a lottery for courtroom seating.

Gillespie said Toole was clear on courtroom decorum: There would be no emotional outbursts from relatives of Banks or his victims.

And while not an outpouring of emotion, Gillespie acknowledged he had to hide tears from the jury at one strenuous point during the proceedings, when a child victim’s young brother testified about reporting the murders to 911 using a phone covered with blood and brain matter.

“No child should ever have to see that and tell a whole bunch of strangers what had happened,” Gillespie said.

Locked in isolation;

Flora, who long has fought to have Banks declared incompetent, said the case is now considered closed, and Banks is destined to die in prison.

“Being locked in a cell 24 hours a day and being in isolation will have a profound effect on someone,” Flora said. “George has significantly deteriorated. He is severely mentally ill … and there is likely no treatment for him.”

Gillespie, now in private practice in Hazleton, said he never thought of Banks as a victim, but as a misogynist who hid behind claims of a racial divide. But, Gillespie conceded, he was smart.

“I thought that George Banks was a very intelligent person,” Gillespie said, noting that during one of his first encounters with Banks, the mass murderer draped himself in a blanket so a psychiatrist couldn’t discern reactions to his analysis.

But Banks’ hatred also defined him, Gillespie said.

“He hated women,” Gillespie said. “He cared for his sons, but he had no feelings at all towards his daughters or stepdaughters. He was, quite frankly, a cold-blooded killer.”

BANKS’ VICTIMS:

Schoolhouse Lane home:

• Regina Clemens, 29: girlfriend, struck by a bullet on her right cheek that spiraled into her heart.

• Susan Yuhas, 23: girlfriend, shot five times while holding his 1-year-old daughter, Mauritania, who was fatally shot in the head.

• Dorothy Lyons, 29: girlfriend, shot in the neck while in a chair.

• Bowendy Banks, 4: son, shot in the left cheek while turning away from his father.

• Montanzima Banks, 6: daughter, shot in the head and chest.

• Foraroude Banks, 1 - son, shot and killed while being held by his half-sister, Nancy Lyons.

• Nancy Lyons, 11: stepdaughter, died of a gunshot wound to the head.

Outside Schoolhouse Lane home:

• Ray Hall Jr., 22: bystander, shot and killed when Banks left the Schoolhouse Lane home.

Heather Highlands mobile homes, Jenkins Township:

• Sharon Mazzillo, 24: former girlfriend, shot in the chest.

• Kissmayu Banks, 5: son, single shot to the forehead.

• Alice Mazzillo, 47: Sharon Mazzillo’s mother, shot in the face.

• Scott Mazzillo, 7: Sharon Mazzillo’s nephew, shot in the head.

• Survivor — Jimmy Olson, 22: bystander, outside Schoolhouse Lane home, gunshot wound to the chest.

#George Banks #tcc true crime #true crime blog #true crime community #true crimes #true crime #real cime post #real crime #tcc real crime #real crime blog #real crimes #real murder #real murders #the serial killer Chronicles

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drawingconclusions · 4 years ago

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THE 2020 ELECTION

Again, everyone and their gerbil is chiming in about the upcoming election, so I figure I should join in, too. Before continuing, you should know I haven't been studying anyone else's reasoning for which candidate they'll support. What I'm writing now is something I've been planning on doing for several weeks. So enough with the preliminaries, let me come right out with it.

I'll be voting for Trump and Pence this election. As I've said before, there are some of Trump's tweets that makes me wince, and certain public spats he gets involved in which I sometimes find completely unnecessary. But it's my opinion that the Trump/Pence ticket is the best choice for America at this point in time.

I suppose I could focus on the positive things Trump has done and act as a cheerleader for his campaign. But there are people who get paid to do that. And besides, you can look all that up for yourself (although you may have to do some digging, considering how the mainstream media hardly talk about it). But right now I'm going to mostly focus on something else, on why I can't vote for the Democrats.

First of all, it took far too long for the Biden campaign to denounce the violent protests that occurred throughout America over the past summer. In fact, some of Biden's staffers even chipped in to provide bail for the destructive anarchists who were causing the damage. So that makes me seriously wonder about their commitment to peace and whether their campaign will engage in machiavellian tendencies to anarchy, which you know I can't support.

If you're concerned about censorship in social media or in other aspects of life, then you may want to reconsider supporting a Democrat in the 2020 election. If you recall, the tech companies who have been engaging in censorship of conservative content or content that could potentially harm Democrat candidates are the same ones who were nearly brought to tears when Hillary Clinton lost the election in 2016. They've made no secret of their support for left-leaning causes and candidates, and if Biden & Harris are elected, I suspect dissidents and people with what they consider the "wrong ideas" will likely experience censorship on a more widespread level. I heard a report that the Biden campaign actually requested that Facebook begin to censor the Trump campaign. And remember, the left is the party that in some quarters declared that "speech is violence" and actively engaged in silencing speakers (sometimes violently) on American campuses. Freedom of speech is a bedrock of America. If you value it, then you should really stop and consider which candidates will fight for it and which ones will casually erode our treasured freedoms without even batting an eye.

I cannot support the left's abhorrent disregard for human life and I can never forget Governor Northam's talk about keeping a newborn baby "comfortable" while the parents gibly decide whether to keep it alive or not. Infanticide is still infanticide no matter how you may describe it. Many Democrats support unlimited abortion (or infanticide) for any reason, and I can't embrace that. And as for the thousands of elderly coronavirus deaths from nursing homes in Democrat-run states, that's an issue for another day that deserves its very own post.

The left has repeatedly made clear their disdain for people of faith. Just look at how Democrats treated Kavanaugh during his confirmation hearing in 2019 and how they treated Amy Coney Barrett during her previous confirmation. Take some time and do research on how many companies & organizations besides Amazon follow the Southern Poverty Law Center's guidelines for charity giving, etc. According to them and others, many faith-based organizations are considered some kind of threat to society for simply believing (as I do) that marriage is defined as a relationship between a man and a woman. And does anyone remember how some Democrat localities and states treated churches & people who tried to attend services during the pandemic? It's just a hunch, but I have a feeling that would likely continue and possibly increase under a potential Democrat administration.

I know there are some Republicans who pay lip service to faith, if only just to gain votes. And I'm not terribly concerned about either the right or the left trying to stamp out people of faith. God is sovereign and He's in control of it all, not them. Christianity & Judaism have persevered for centuries despite severe persecution at times. God's kingdom is the rock from the vision of the book of Daniel, the heavenly kingdom that will supersede and outlast all earthly kingdoms. I speak out for freedom of religion because I don't want to see America become another communist China or socialist Venezuela where both Muslims & Christians alike are targeted for what they believe.

This not-so-recent behavior of the left to attempt to change the rules if you don't like how something turns out is another reason why I can't vote Democrat this election. Look, I'm not naïve enough to believe that Democrats are the only ones who are willing to do this. Republicans have likely also been guilty of this in terms of redistricting of voter precincts, etc. But I'm just a bit astounded (and not astounded) by the fact that Nancy Pelosi & others have proposed creating an oversight committee to decide any President's fitness for leadership, and by the various calls from the left to literally pack the Supreme Court by adding more than nine judges (and likely potentially left-leaning judges). Presidents are decided by the public & the electoral college, not by a Congressional committee & unelected board members, and the Supreme Court isn't meant to be some kind of factory for churning out legislation. They're there to evaluate laws, not make them.

And I know I'm being long-winded here, but if you would just bear with me for just a little more. The progressive left have made it public that electing Joe Biden is "a doorway to a destination". In other words, Biden isn't liberal enough for them, and if he is elected, they'll push to enact their own aggresively liberal agenda in all of its toxic forms. In my opinion, there are too many far-left liberals in all aspects of government already who have done lasting damage to America. Do you really think Lt. Col. Vindman is the only liberal in the military who strives to advance their own agenda at the expense of the country? What could have been if Lt. Col. Vindman & the Democrats in Congress had chosen to focus on preparing for this pandemic instead of spending time on an unnecessary impeachment in November & December of 2019? And do you really think Sheriff Scott Israel is the only liberal in law enforcement who would rather talk about gun control instead of focusing on the real causes & other potential solutions to society's problems? I know there are good people who work in government, but I've seen others who have become nearly psychotic in their pursuit of baseless investigations and mindless causes, so much so that I'm truly concerned about our national & local security with some of these types of people in charge. And heaven help us if green new deal subjects like cow flatulence become a top priority for America in 2021 and beyond.

Unfortunately, many of these people, or liberal activists to be more accurate, can't be voted out. But that's why I'm voting for Trump & Pence this election. I believe they're the best chance we have for addressing the problems & excesses of unelected bureacrats in government. I know that Republicans sometimes give a free-pass to certain organizations. And I realize that conservatism doesn't always equal Christianity. Sometimes they do a disservice to America's other immigrants by lumping the bad ones with the good ones. The Bible says to lookout for the alien or immigrant (...but I agree with Republicans that doesn't mean open borders or being lax on immigrants who have committed heinous crimes.) And sometimes conservatives become far too chummy with corporations at the expense of the common people, when they should be fighting injustice wherever it's found. But this is how I'll be voting in this election. Of course there are some local Republicans I still can't support, and if the Republican party ever veers off into a completely crazy zone, I'll drop my support. I'm not bound to one party or the other.

And I hope you'll take what I've written today and evaluate it for yourself. Don't let me or anyone else do your thinking for you. Do your own homework, look at the issues, and cast your vote. Future generations will thank you for it.

#vote2020 #vote #election2020 #2020 election

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 5 years ago

Text

Services No Longer Required

A/N: probably not the kind of smooch you thought you were gonna get with this one, but a smooch nonetheless! This is a one shot with no connection to any other Logan AU or fics I’ve posted. And it ran completely away with itself.

Warning: language, discussion of sexual assault

Word Count: 4,780 (oops)

Prompt: from @gollyderek

You tried not to roll your eyes as you raised your glass to your lips. It was expensive champagne; you knew because you hated it. You could taste the pretension in the way it flaunted its dryness like no liquid should. Swallowing the whole flute in one go, you sucked air through your teeth to cleanse your palate of the cloying wealth. A server came by, skin tight dress painted onto her mathematically perfect proportions, and you plucked another glass from her tray, trading it with your empty one. The sudden fluctuation in weight distribution on the tray would have made the average attendant spill the remaining refreshments, but she adjusted beautifully. Of course she did.

“Are you enjoying your evening, miss?” the server blinked at you from behind lush lashes, her wide eyes bright, her plump lips open at just the right degree.

You peeled your eyes away from the display you’d been failing to avoid across the room, letting them land heavily on the smiling, overpriced piece of equipment in front of you. One manicured finger tapped against the glass you’d snatched as you considered how to answer her, Logan’s hand sliding slowly over the shoulder of the man whose ear he was whispering into catching the corner of your eye. Not at all, but my job requires me to be here so here the fuck I am. “Yeah, sweetheart, it’s a real blast.” You wondered if these fuckbots spoke sarcasm.

She smiled, her round cheeks shrinking her eyes as her lips drew up into a bow. Wonder if he designed this one. Picked out the tits or the mouth or… You didn’t want to think about what else Logan may or may not have requested on the particular model in front of you. “Well if there’s anything you need,” she gave a little giggle that matched the bubbles in the champagne.

This time you didn’t bother trying to hide your eyeroll. “Yeah. If there’s anything I need, doll, I’ll let you know.” She doesn’t speak sarcasm, but I’m fucking fluent. Her saccharine smile left a sour taste in your mouth. You took another sip of champagne to counter it as she flounced off, not a drop spilled as she swayed through the crowded ballroom, hips and ass trailing behind her, barely concealed beneath the shimmering white fabric. Who even falls for that shit anyway? A quick glance in either direction yielded at least seven pairs of eyes glued hungrily to her curves. You wanted to be surprised, but you’d shared a conference table with some of these men, and so you couldn’t be. Come on, Tom, you’re married for fuck’s sake.

You reluctantly returned your eyes to the far side of the palatial space, and were met with Logan’s, waiting for yours. His eyes were brown, you knew, the color of coffee without cream. But right now, his teeth flashing in a grin before clamping around the earlobe he’d just shared a secret with, they were coal black, embers flickering dangerously in their depths. Logan’s grin curved around the man’s flesh as he maintained eye contact with you. The recipient of the bite let his eyes roll closed and you felt your nostrils flare. Oh, come on Logan, really? You drained the contents of your glass and set it on a credenza as your heels clicked across the marble floor, finally unable to just sit back and watch.

.. .. .. .. .. .. ..

It had been almost six months to the day that you’d met Logan Delos. His family attorney had hired you to help “protect his image” after incriminating photos that hinted at a sex scandal were leaked to the press alongside damaging accusations that had been proven false, but still threatened to mar Logan’s- and by extension, Delos’- reputation. You thought you’d known what to expect when it came to Logan; in fact, you had even gone so far as to argue with your boss about taking him on as a client. But Delos Inc. and its subsidiaries had been using your firm for years.

“They’re one of our oldest and most important clients,” Cynthia, your boss had said in an even tone from behind her coffee mug. “And you’re one of the best we’ve got now.” She looked at you, the power in her green eyes magnified by the black rimmed glasses that were perched high on her nose. You let out a miniscule breath and clenched your jaw. You’d just received a promotion that came with a substantial raise due to the work you’d done on the last case you’d been assigned to- a pop star coming back to a wavering fan base after a stint in rehab- and you knew that Cynthia assigning you to the Delos account meant that she was reinforcing her faith in your ability to represent her firm. “This is the sort of thing you’re going to be handling now,” she told you seriously. “Playboys and pill poppers in the public eye with too much money and a penchant for extraordinary mistakes. That something you can handle?” She set her coffee down on the polished mahogany desk between you, observing every little tick and twitch in the muscles of your cheeks and lips. She’d always been good at reading people, you knew, which was why she’d been able to climb as high as she had in her profession.

You knew it was fruitless to try to hide what you were thinking. You shook your head, resigned to the fact that you’d have to take on the case. “Cyn, just tell me if you think he’s guilty before I get into this, okay? I know what the court verdict was but… what do you think?”

Cynthia flattened her hands on the desk and tilted her head. “I’d never send you into a lie, you know that.” You nodded. Yeah, I know, just… “And I have personally worked with Logan Delos in the past, and I can tell you with 100% certainty that there is no way that he is guilty. He takes his work and his career and his company far too seriously to ever jeopardize it. Is he a sharp tongued asshole who loves to flirt and dives headfirst into excess? Absolutely, so you’ll have your hands full. But under all that…” she looked for a more professional term but came up short, rolling her eyes. “Under all that bullshit, he’s a decent man. Smart, too.” She sighed. “Actually one of the few that I like to work with, because he values a professional opinion.”

“Alright, Cyn,” you smoothed your hair back. Guess this is happening. “When do I leave?”

“Tomorrow morning. You’re on the 9am to Los Angeles.” Cynthia slid a packet of information across the desk to you, your travel itinerary on top. “It’s a six month assignment, so we rented out an apartment for you.” Six months? Damn. The longest assignment you’d had prior to this one had been half that time, and you’d been able to stay in NYC for most of it, only travelling with your client when necessary. You flipped through the file as Cynthia continued speaking. “Because of the circumstances, you’ll have a temporary office within the Delos Inc. building. You’ll be working closely with Mr. Delos and several other entities, and you will be expected to attend all public appearances and events.” Working closely with Mr. Delos? You looked up from the information then, hands frozen midway through flipping the page. Usually you worked behind the scenes, putting out fires before they had a chance to spark. Actually attending events and getting that much face time with your clients was something completely new for you. You recovered, looking back down at the file in your hand, eyes scanning the printed packet and going wide when they landed on the keywords: sexual indiscretion, abuse of power, sexual assault.

It’s not true. You reminded yourself. The accuser was found to be lying, and the whole situation had been fabricated or spun grossly out of control; some assistant claiming that Logan had forced himself on her, holding her career over her head in exchange for sexual favors. You flipped another page in the packet and landed on a profile of Logan’s past relationships- a model, an actor, an heiress, another model, a member of the Russian ballet- none of them were Delos employees. Even without having met him, you knew that the accusation didn't fit his M.O.

Another flip of the pages in your hand uncovered photos that made your breath catch slightly. Oh, damn. Yeah this isn’t a man that has to force himself on...anyone. They were tabloid shots, one of Logan getting out of a gleaming black limo, long legs in perfectly tailored dress pants, one hand in the pocket of his jacket, arm bent at an angle that showed off his trim figure. His nutty brown eyes were warm above the blinding smile he wore, and even though it was just a photo you could tell that he moved with confidence from the stance that he took. The second photo was taken in a restaurant, Logan’s long fingers wrapped around a glass that he was using to gesture with. He was speaking animatedly about something to two men and a woman, his eyebrows raised and his mouth open. All three at the table with him were Delos employees according to the notes that were paperclipped to the photo page, and the female intern pictured was the one who had launched the accusations. The two men present had been called on to share their side of the story, both of them making it clear that they had not witnessed any inappropriate behavior at that dinner or at any other time. Your eyes went back to Logan, to the magnetic way that he drew the attention of those around him. Again, it was just a photo, but you could feel his energy coming through the page in the way that he so comfortably carried himself.

You looked up at Cynthia and found her studying your reactions to the photos. “As you can see, he’s quite the catch.” You cursed yourself for the color you felt rising to your cheeks. “And combined with his net worth, you can see why someone would get the idea into their head that he could be threatened for not giving them what they wanted.” You glanced back down at the pictures, and felt a twinge of sympathy for the overwhelmingly attractive young man in them. “The accusations were dismissed, and the intern has been fired and is being sued for defamation of character, but the connotations of a situation like this stick. Delos is concerned that the public memory of this incident will be that Logan can’t be trusted with female employees.” Cynthia rolled her eyes once more. “No one’s worried about his male employees apparently. Sexist fucking country we live in.” You let out a small laugh. From the list of relationships you’d reviewed, it was clear that Logan spent just as much time with men as he did with women. “So, part of the reason why you will be working so closely with him, is to improve that public memory. Of course you’ll offer advice about how he should behave for the next few months to shake this story, tell him to tone down the flirting and all that. But the other benefit is that you’ll prove that Logan Delos can work with a woman without making an advance on her.”

“Well, since I’m not on billboards or runways I’m not really his type, so that should be no problem.” You closed the information packet and set it on the desk. “Thanks for trusting me with this one, Cyn. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t. And we’ll have weekly conferences so you can let me know what’s going on. I’m always available if you need advice, but,” she stood and you did the same. “I have no doubts that you can handle this one like a pro.” She’d walked you out of her office then, and the next morning your bags were packed and you were boarding a flight out of the cold and into the sunshine.

The first meeting with Logan confirmed what you’d read in those photos- his confidence was off the charts. He was entirely comfortable in any setting, because he was entirely comfortable in his own skin. He knew who he was and he made no apologies for it. He was equally as proud of his business dealings as he was of his three months of sobriety from heroin and painkillers, and as eager to leave the mess of this situation behind him as he seemed to be to show you around the building. At the end of the tour he’d shown you to your office, just two doors down from his own. You thanked him, and set your things down, starting to settle in. You thought he’d left, but when you turned back around he was still standing in the doorway, an almost tentative look crossing his handsome features. That’s different.

“Can I talk to you for a minute? About all this…” he gestured to the briefcase you’d opened on the desk.

You nodded, holding a hand out to indicate that he should go on. “Sure Mr. Delos-”

“You can call me Logan, it’s fine,” he waved you off, pulling the door closed behind him. You made sure to keep the desk between you, as even though the door was shut, the large window allowed anyone passing through the hall to peek in, and you didn’t want any of them getting any ideas about what was going on.

You nodded again. “Okay, Logan. Look, if you’re worried about my qualifications, I can assure you that-”

He cut you off again by holding up one hand, pointer finger extended. “No, that’s not… Delos has been using your firm forever. I trust Cynthia, so I trust you. I’m sure we’re gonna butt heads, but I know you’re gonna do a great job with this fucking mess.”

You cleared your throat as he kept his eyes on you. “Well, I’m glad to hear that Mr. Del- Logan.”

He took a step closer, and that tentative look was still there. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter and you were struck by the seriousness in his eyes. “I want you to know that none of it was true. I didn’t...I’d never do what she said I did.” I know… You had been skeptical only for a few minutes, before Cynthia put your doubts to rest, before you read through the packet, before you met the man in front of you. “This company means...everything to me, so I’d never do anything that would…” he shook his head, a piece of hair falling loose. He swiped it back and out of his eyes. “But more than that, I’d never use my position to manipulate someone… I’ve been on the other end of that...I respect my employees. And I’d never do anything like that to someone I respect...Hell I’d never do anything like that to anyone, respect or not.” He blinked, but you could see how much he wanted you to believe him in those dark chocolate eyes. “Look, I’ve… I’ve been with people who I’ve worked with before, but only after they’d left the company or after their services ended. I’m...careful about it…” he let out a derisive laugh. “Even if that’s the only thing I’m careful about.”

He was showing you a small crack in the confident facade with this honesty, and even though you suspected that he was right- you’d likely butt heads plenty of times over the next few months as you helped him repair the public opinion of him- you found yourself growing angry that someone would throw such damaging lies at someone as honest and sincere as Logan. You gave him a small smile that you hoped was reassuring. “I know, Logan. I believe you fully. It’s despicable, the lengths some people are willing to go to for a little attention. I truly am sorry that this happened to you, and we’re going to do everything we can to make sure that it’s entirely behind you.”

He nodded, hands in his pockets. “Good. Well, I’ll let you get settled. You know where my office is if you need anything.”

You thanked him, and he left the door to your office open as he left, turning down the hall to go to his own office, double the size of yours as it should be. He’s intense… this is going to be quite the assignment… You blew air out through your lips as you sunk into your desk chair, wasting no time in getting to work on a blueprint for this project: Cut back on the flirting in public, show up to any and all press releases to show that he’s more invested in the business than the business interns, strong emphasis on giving back to the community, large donations to foundations that support equality in the workplace, etc.

The six months had passed much more quickly than you would have guessed. The first fundraising event that you’d attended had left you feeling like Cinderella at the ball… combined with a little bit of fairy godmother as you reminded Logan not to get too physical with his date for the event, and that he should make a speech to draw attention to the cause that was being supported. He’d groaned and called you a buzzkill, but he’d done what you’d asked, and that had pretty much set the tone for every interaction. “You’re no fun,” was a commonly used phrase, and he’d taken to introducing you to certain people as his “own personal killjoy”. You rolled your eyes and played along, but you knew that he appreciated the work that you were doing, because he heeded your every suggestion. Your private meetings with him had become less and less daunting as time went on and the two of you got to know one another, allowing for less walking on eggshells and more nitty gritty facts, eventually causing Logan to eye you suspiciously from across your desk one afternoon, and say “Ya know, I think you know more about my personal life than anyone I’ve ever dated.”

You swallowed the coffee you’d just sipped and stared at him. Despite the sometimes cocky way he’d behaved, and the seemingly unquenchable sex drive, you had to admit that you liked Logan. As a person. He happened to be the most physically appealing person you’d ever laid eyes on, but you were learning things about him that you liked, too. “It’s my job to know these things, Logan.” But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t also enjoy it.

“It won’t be your job forever,” he pointed out. “You gonna just forget all that stuff when you leave? File it away in some cabinet somewhere until I make my next big mistake?” There was a mischievous spark in his eye as he asked.

Couldn’t forget you if I wanted to and you know it. You shook your head. “Still have a few weeks here.”

“Too bad,” he muttered, and you couldn’t tell what he meant- too bad that you were leaving soon? Too bad that you’d have to move on to another client? Too bad that you were still an employee and therefore off limits? Don’t be stupid, he can’t be interested in you when he’s got runway models on speed dial.

You cleared your throat. Change the subject. “Let’s talk about the Delos anniversary party. It’s coming up, and it’s the last event I’ll be on for. I’ve outlined some points that I think are important to stick to…” You watched the twitch of his lips as you brought it back to business. Is that...disappointment?

.. .. .. .. .. .. ..

When it was finally time for the anniversary gala, the unofficial end to your contract with Delos Inc. and your time with Logan, you’d felt tense in a way you’d never felt at the end of an assignment before. Everything had gone perfectly, and Cynthia was more than pleased with the updates that you’d been giving her. But the last week leading up to the gala had been the most contentious with Logan. You’d reminded him that he shouldn’t worry about who to bring, that he should focus on celebrating the Delos brand and the success that the company has enjoyed, to which he replied that he wanted you to be his date.

“Logan. That would destroy everything we’ve been working on this whole time.” Is he fucking serious?

“Would just be nice to take someone to one of these things that actually knew me, that gave a fuck about more than my money.” He shrugged. “Can’t tell me you’re not interested.”

Son of a bitch. “Logan.” Of course I’m interested but that would ruin everything for both of us. “Come on, don’t be ridiculous.”

He narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together. “No. Wouldn’t want to be ridiculous. Alright then, I’ll see you at the party. You can take one of the Hosts as your date if you want.” Hitting the “want” with a little more aggression than necessary, he turned on his heel and exited your office then, leaving you speechless and confused. What the fuck was that about?

For the most part, he’d stuck to the plan for the party. He’d chosen a tried and true date- a model named Raife that he’d been seen with plenty of times and who had never tried to exploit him or use him or do or say anything damaging. He’d made the speech that you’d written, he’d shook all the right hands and refrained from drinking too heavily. He hadn’t occupied the same square foot as you the entire evening, though you’d felt his eyes on you plenty of times, and they seemed pleased that you hadn’t come with anyone- even more pleased at your seeming distaste for the perfection of the Hosts that were present. All in all, he’d been behaving perfectly all night. But now that the party was winding down, getting into its final hour, he seemed hell-bent on raising a red flag. The intimate way he was interacting with Raife finally got your attention, and you’d seen him grin as you set your empty glass down on your way across the room.

You cleared your throat as you came to stand before him, arms crossed over your chest. “Logan, can I have a word with you?”

He remained seated, one arm draped over Raife’s shoulder. Instead of answering you, he nudged his date and turned to him. “See? What’d I tell you? She’s here to yell at me.” He looked up at you, shit eating grin on his face. “Go ahead, then.”

“A private word, please, Logan?” You arched one eyebrow to show that you meant business.

“I am in trouble,” he joked to Raife, who matched Logan’s smile with one of his own. Despite the teasing and the hard time he was obviously trying to give you, Logan stood and followed you out a nearby door into the empty hallway. A clock on the wall showed that it was just minutes to midnight and the end of the event.

“Logan, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” You asked, thoroughly annoyed with him for how he’d been acting ever since you told him that you couldn’t be his date a few days prior. “You’re just throwing everything we worked on away? Why?”

“So it worked?” His eyes flicked up to the clock and then back to you as a smirk grew on his face.

You sighed, utterly exasperated. You liked Logan. You’d come to think of him more as a friend than a client, learning about him, learning how to deal with him- how to deal with him when he was being a shit like he was now. But you also liked Logan, and because of that, you couldn’t wait for this job to be over, to be back in New York and far away from the thing you wanted most but couldn’t have. “What are you talking about? What worked?”

He watched the second hand tick up towards the twelve on the clock before taking a step towards you. “You’re jealous.” He licked his bottom lip, running his tongue along it.

“Jealous? Logan, what-”

Another step. “Raife knows I just needed someone for the night, you know. And technically,” the clock chimed midnight as he pointed to it, eyes firmly on you. “Technically, your services are no longer required here. You don’t work for me or with me or…”

“Logan. You can’t just…” you shook your head. Is he serious? He wanted my attention? Because he… “Logan, we can’t.” I want to, though.

He took one more step until there were only inches between you. He was careful not to touch you, but you felt your skin tingle at the thought that he was close enough to. “Why not?” he asked softly, softer than you’d heard him speak for the entire six months, much softer than the tone he’d taken with you in the past few days. “Why can’t we… I like you...you...you know me…”

I do know you, Logan, I know you too well. “Logan…”

He stood straight and put on his boardroom face, speaking your name in an authoritative tone. “Your services at Delos are no longer required.” He held the face for a few seconds, then let his smirk slide back across his lips. “And as such, I’d like to take you out.”

You swallowed, head spinning. What would Cynthia say? Is this even happening? I can’t, he’s...I mean, he’s...goddamnit. “Logan, I… my career, I… I can’t see my clients, I-”

“I’m not your client anymore. And I don’t plan to need your company’s services ever again...As boring as the last six months have been,” you rolled your eyes and so did he and despite yourself you felt a grin forming. “I’ve learned a lot from you...not just about how to save face, but about how I deserve to be treated and talked to and…”

“You deserve respect, Logan, and happiness and-”

“Then come out with me. Please. No one’s ever treated me like you have and...you didn’t just do what the job required, you bothered to get to know me. You gave a shit about me and not just the bottom line. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think you were gorgeous.” He dropped his voice. “And I never lie.”

“Logan, you don’t know how much I want to say yes, it’s just-”

“Then say yes. We don’t have to go out right away, you can go back to New York and then I can-” he shook his head. “I don’t know, I’ll come out there in a few weeks and it won’t be connected to work at all. Just...just say yes.”

You thought it through as much as you could with two glasses of champagne and Logan’s intense stare swirling through your brain. If we wait a while...if I go back home first… if I’m no longer connected to him for work… fuck it. He was over the top and loud and unapologetic. He was magnetic and attractive and you were just as enamoured by his personality as you were by his smile and his eyes. You liked Logan Delos, more than you thought possible when you first heard that you’d be working with him, and he was standing before you telling you the exact same thing. “Yes, Logan.”

His mouth dropped open but he snapped it shut, eyes warming and smile growing. “Yes?”

You laughed and nodded. “Yes. I’ll go out with you. In two weeks. In New York. And Logan?”

“Yeah?” His smile changed the tone of his voice with how genuine it was.

“I never want to work for you again.”

He laughed then, checking both sides of the hall before taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. They lingered on your knuckles and you felt warmth spread from your hand, up your arm and throughout your chest. It was the most chaste kiss he’d ever given anyone, but the way he kept his eyes locked on yours as he let his teeth graze your skin told you that he was capable of much more. “Deal,” he promised as he pulled away, fingertips brushing your palm before letting go of your hand.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @agent-bossypants @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @belladonnarey @ymariejp @obscurilicious @ms-delos @songtoyou @gollyderek @traeumerinwitzhelden @breanime @drinix

#logan delos #logan smooches #logan westworld #logan delos x you #logan delos x reader #kiss prompts #smooch drabbles #services no longer required #kiss at a party #with confession of feelings #not your typical smooch #but still a smooch

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justsomekpopstuff · 6 years ago

Text

Protest (Youngbin College!AU)

Requested by @jin-hua

Pairing: Youngbin x Reader

MASTERLIST: to find it, just look up “justsomekpopstuff masterlist” on my blog, since external links still are not fixed. It should be in there. Sorry about the inconvenience!

student: Kim Youngbin

major: political science

Youngbin from his freshmen yeah was considered a natural-born leader

and obviously he therefore became considered the “leader” of the campus

he was voted student body president his sophomore year

so clearly everyone thinks he is more than capable enough as a leader

he helps out every year at freshman orientation because he knows how scary it can be to move up to college

he wants to make sure all the lil freshmen coming in don’t freak out too much

recruited both Inseong and Dawon to help out as well because they definitely have the personality to make the younger ones feel welcome

also called the “campus dad” due to his dad-like personality

can and will take care of every single person on campus that is younger than him

they are his children

he must protect

due to his leadership and public speaking skills, he obviously chose political science as his major

president of the debate team on campus

already has an internship lined up for him after graduation too

because of all this, he is a very big rule follower

he likes doing things by the book and keeping things in order

however, even he had to admit that there were certain things about the way the campus was run that he still didn’t like

but because he didn’t want to compromise his position or disrespect the dean of the campus

that was, of course, until he met

he was in his dorm when he got a call from the Dean of Student Affairs

the Dean told him that there was a person standing in front of the student union holding up a sign “Education is corrupt, reform NOW”

the Dean asked him then to talk to the student and get them to leave peacefully because they were being a “disturbance”

he really couldn’t say no to them, so he sighed and accepted, closing his notes and leaving his dorm

as he walked over to the student union where this student was, he thought to himself

he thought...maybe....he didn’t really want to stop them

he wasn’t really a fan of how the education takes advantage of its students with very little reward

and after all, you had a right to protest and make your opinion known as a student

so who was he to tell you to stand down?

he made his way to the student union to see you, standing there very stoic by the entrance with your sign in hand, just like the dean had said

you looked so strong and confident, Youngbin could hear his heart begin to beat in his ears

he walked up to you sheepishly, hands hidden in his pockets which was very different from his usual professional-looking demeanor to stand in front of you

“So...hi...the Dean of Student Affairs asked me to see if you would be willing to stand down...maybe?” he asked quietly

“No”

your response had made his heart beat even faster

you responded so quickly and with such power that he barely had time to think of a response

“Um...may I ask why...you’re doing this?”

“Isn’t it obvious,” you asked him with a slightly sarcastic tone. “The university is demanding more from its students than it is returning. They say they are preparing us for the future and yet give us nothing in return. There is no assurance that what we do here is going to bring us any kind of luck in the real world. On top of that, most students are being forced to pay more money and take more credits than they can handle leaving thim exhausted and in debt, and yet the university just keeps asking for more. It is time for that to change. Education should not come at the cost of mental and monetary exhaustion. That’s just the facts”

Youngbin definitely knew you had a point, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he didn’t agree with you

you were proud and true to your word

you definitely had guts, and to be honest, stopping you was now the last thing that he wanted to do

however, he did make a commitment to the dean

so one last try was needed

“have you...tried talking to the dean...maybe?”

“i’ve tried to contact the dean every semester about changing the policy, and I have been ignored and blown off every single time. I’m done with not being listened to. Its time things changed, and I don’t care how long I have to stand out here until something does.”

“...Okay.”

Youngbin looked to your feet and saw extra signs sitting there, most likely made for other students that wished to join

he grabbed one that said something similar to yours and stood next to you quietly

“...What are you doing?” you asked

“Joining you. You have a good point, and I agree. And, if you cant beat them, join them”

“...aren’t you like, the head of student affairs or something?”

“your point being?” he looked at you with a questioning look on his face.

“...okay...”

the two of you stood there in confident silence, getting some looks from other students and faculty that passed by

that was, until an hour later when the campus police showed up and dragged the two of you to the dean of student affairs’ office

you two sat there in the uncomfortable chairs as the dean stared the two of you down with an angry look

the dean lectured the two of you for what felt like hours, talking about how inappropriate your actions were, and how they were especially disappointed in Youngbin, who was the leader of the campus

you honestly felt like you both were going to be suspended at the least

however, thankfully due to Youngbin’s position and good graces, the two of you were only sentenced to doing a work study in the student food court for two months, starting right after the both of you ended classes

the reasoning?

“maybe being an actual part of this campus will straighten you out”

you rolled your eyes once you were out of the office, but you had to admit you were glad you were not expelled

you were about to turn to Youngbin to talk to him when you heard the dean call him back into the office

you gave him a sorrowful look, and he gave you a look in return that told you he would be fine

you only hoped he was right

not wanting to be there for the aftermath, you went back to your dorm to get some rest before you had to start your sentence

the next day after your classes, you made your way to the restaurant you were assigned to work at

you met with the grumpy and tired looking manager as they gave you a rushed run through of the cafe, throwing an apron and hat at you before sticking you in front of a sink full of dishes

you sighed, knowing that you would be seeing this view for a while, and got to work

your silent labor, however, would be cut short because about an hour later, Youngbin was shoved in right next to you

“good to see you aren’t dead” you joked as he got to work on the other big stack of dishes

“yeah, but I did get an extra earful of ‘you should be ashamed - a man of your position on campus?’ blah, blah, blah...” he trailed off as you chuckled

“well, you are their golden boy. They expect more from you than to ‘disobey the order’”

“yeah, well sometimes the order needs to be changed. You said it yourself. Change has to happen eventually for the betterment of the campus. Sometimes it just takes on person to stand out”

“So what ended up happening?”

“Oh yeah they kicked me out of ASI for the rest of the semester”

you stopped and looked at him, feeling guilty that you had caused him to lose his position

“I am so sorry, this is all my fault...”

“I don’t regret it for a single second...and hey, they didn’t say anything about me re-running next semester” he smiled at you

“You sure this won’t like, throw your entire future out the window?”

“Even if it does, I still wouldn’t change a thing”

the two of you smiled at each other and got back to washing the dishes in a comfortable silence

It was pitch dark out by the time the two of you finished your work and were allowed to clock out

you were exhausted from standing all day and all you wanted to do was go back to your dorm and sleep for days - even though you had to repeat the same thing tomorrow

“Hey, its dark out, maybe I should accompany you back to your dorm?” Youngbin asked you

“If you want,” you replied

the two of you walked in silence again to the dorms, taking in the cool night air

“So, I was thinking...” Youngbin started as you began to near the buildings

“What?”

“I think you’re pretty cool, and you have a lot of good ideas...I’m interested in getting to know you some more...so maybe tomorrow, once we are done with our shift, we could, I don’t know...grab a late-night bite to eat? If you want...”

you chuckled as he slowly and awkwardly got his words out

“I would love to,” you smiled at him as the two of you reached your building’s doors

“Great,” Youngbin smiled at you. “It’s a date.”

“It certainly is”

needless to say, that night was the beginning of a very bright future for the two of you

Youngbin as a boyfriend is honestly a dream

he knows how to treat you RIGHT

he knows that you are passionate about respect and being treated as an equal

and he takes that into account regularly in your relationship, asking for your opinion on things and making sure he knows where your boundaries are

he trusts that you know how to take care of yourself

but there are still times when he will pamper you and take care of you

he also knows that if anyone wrongs him, you will have his back

and the person who wronged him will have to face your wrath

which is very comforting to him that he has a kick-ass s/o who can stand up for themselves

you and the boys lead the protest to get Youngbin back into ASI as the president

there’s flyers and banners and protests involved

and honestly he could feel the heart eyes intensifying

you found out that he had almost lost his internship due to the whole ASI thing

and you felt so guilty that you went down to the place to make a case for him

needless to say they are now hiring both of you right after graduation

speaking of the boys

you become parent number 2 to the ragtag group

you make sure that they are being treated well and taking care of themselves

Youngbin also enlists your help to take care of the incoming freshman and make sure that they transition without too much trouble

you are essentially the campus power couple

and you wouldn’t have it any other way

#youngbin #sf9 #sf9 imagines #sf9 reactions #sf9 scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop headcanons #sf9 headcanons #youngbin imagines #youngbin scenarios

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aswithasunbeam · 6 years ago

Text

The Trial of the Century

[Read on AO3]

Rated: G

Relationships: Aaron Burr & Alexander Hamilton; Alexander Hamilton/ Elizabeth “Eliza” Schuyler

Summary: The treason trial of former Vice President Aaron Burr commands the attention of the whole United States. Even so, the arrival of an old friend takes Burr by surprise. Hamilton never could resist a good fight with Jefferson, even if that means taking Burr on as a client __ A historical AU where Hamilton (just) survived his injuries in the duel

Richmond, Virginia

July 1807

Sticky, chocolate covered fingers hover over the white knight on the chess board. Young Aaron’s piercing eyes peeked up at Burr from under his shaggy dark fringe. His grandson sought a hint for the wisdom of the move he was contemplating, Burr understood.

“Think it through, Gampillo,” Burr encouraged without giving anything away as he rummaged in his pocket for a handkerchief. Theodosia has already scolded him for spoiling the boy with too many sweets. His grandson’s hand retracted slightly from the knight as his eyes scanned the board once more. Burr reached out to wipe the evidence of the chocolate square from the boy’s fingers and face.

Aaron squirmed backwards in his chair.

“Here you are, then,” Burr granted, handing the handkerchief over.

“Papa?” Burr glanced up guiltily at his daughter as she entered from the foyer. Her gaze swept briefly over her son’s chocolate stained fingers, prompting a fond shake of her head. She then returned her attention to her father, her expression turning inscrutable. “You have a visitor.”

He frowned. Who would be interested in paying him a social call at a time like this? Theo wouldn’t allow just anyone entrance to gawk at the so-called traitor, surely. His mouth parted to ask the identity of this unexpected guest, but a commotion in the hallway interrupted the thought. One of the decorative tables in the foyer had been upset, by the sound of it, the thud of ceramic on wood carrying in along with the squeaky whine of a wheel in need of oiling.

“Careful, Robert.” The soft voice had a slight rasp to it, but Burr recognized it immediately regardless.

Hamilton.

Burr felt his heartbeat quicken. He rose from his seat, then stood, feeling awkward and wrong footed at the abrupt appearance of a man he thought never to see again. What could Hamilton possibly want?

The front of the chair appeared first, blanketed feet resting motionless on the footrest as the bulky chair struggled through the narrow door. Theo moved to hold the door open as wide as possible. When at last the chair bumped over the divider on the floor, he looked upon Hamilton for the first time since that cursed morning at Weehawken.

Hamilton had been both absent and omnipresent to Burr for the length of his long convalescence. His hair had gone wholly gray in the intervening years, and wrinkles were prominent in his thin, haggard face. A hint of mischief still twinkled in his eyes, however, matching the quirk of his lips as he examined Burr in turn. Hamilton was enjoying this, Burr realized.

Burr remained frozen in place, his lips still slightly parted, searching for something to say. Should he be apologetic? Irreverent? Friendly? Hostile?

It was who Hamilton broke the silence, and his first words weren’t directed to Burr at all. Attention on Theo, still holding the door, Hamilton said, “Thank you for your assistance, my dear.”

“I’m glad to see you so well, Mr. Hamilton.” Hamilton’s charming smile was mirrored on Theo’s face. She stooped down to the chair and placed a friendly kiss to Hamilton’s cheek, then waved a hand towards her son. “We’ll leave you to your business.”

“Traitor,” Burr mouthed when Theo caught his eye. She looked not at all amused at the little jest. The potential death sentence seemed to have robbed her of her sense of humor.

As she swept from the room, Aaron in tow, Hamilton turned that charming smile on him. “I heard you were in need of a good lawyer, Mr. Burr.”

A disbelieving chuckle forced its way out of Burr’s chest. The gall of him, to refuse all communication, then appear when the trial of the century presented itself. “Did you, now? Your intelligence was mistaken. I have plenty of lawyers, in fact. Six in all, including myself.”

“I’m certain I’m better than any of them. Especially you.” Burr laughed again, more genuinely this time. “Are you really in any position to refuse help?”

He can’t deny the truth of the statement, but he needn’t admit to it out loud. Instead, he asked with some incredulity, “Did you really travel all the way here on an assumption that I’d require your assistance? And does Mrs. Hamilton know you’re here? She must be beside herself.”

“Such concern for my wife, suddenly,” Hamilton charged, his brow raised. Burr shrank back slightly, a niggle of guilt beginning in his chest at the thought of the pain he’d caused poor innocent Eliza. “She came with me, for the record. I was on business nearby, anyway.”

“In Richmond?”

“Philadelphia. Richmond isn’t much farther to travel.” That was a patent falsehood, and they both knew it. “So?”

“Why would you want to help me?”

“Because I dislike Jefferson more than you,” Hamilton answered simply.

A rueful smile began on Burr’s face. “If only you’d come to that realization a few years ago, so much unpleasantness between us could have been avoided.”

“Oh, I still don’t think you should hold power.” Burr frowned heavily as Hamilton gave him a dismissive little wave. “But I’d hate to give Jefferson the satisfaction of putting you to death. He’s sounding more and more the vengeful tyrant every day.”

“Shouldn’t I be put to death? Fomenting rebellion in the West is treason, is it not?”

“Are you guilty?”

It’s a good thing Hamilton rarely handled criminal matters, Burr considered, as he sank back into his seat and invited Hamilton closer. Hamilton’s servant obliged, wheeling the chair nearer. “You should know better than to ask a criminal defendant such a thing, Hamilton.”

“I never ask clients questions I don’t already know the answer to,” Hamilton retorted.

“Oh?”

“That you had designs on Florida and Mexico, I believe readily enough. I had thoughts of taking Florida for the United States myself once upon a time.” Burr smiled at the admission. “But Jefferson’s theory that you meant to use that plot as a cover for inciting rebellion in the Western states, that you might ride into the federal city and usurp the rightful government, smacks more of a deranged fever dream than an actual charge.”

Burr inclined his head. “I quite agree. As could the grand jury. Martin thinks they might decline to indict me, which would save us the whole business of a trial. You may have wasted a trip.”

Hamilton scoffed. “Of course they’re going to indict you. It’s a grand jury—they’d indict a loaf of bread if the prosecutor laid it before them.”

“Three grand juries before them declined,” Burr pointed out. “Two in Kentucky and one in Tennessee.”

“You’re being judged by Virginia gentlemen now, not the toothless, riotous simpletons of the back country.”

“You know, it’s a wonder they don’t like you out there,” Burr remarked dryly.

Hamilton hummed, unconcerned. “Marshall is sensible, though. He’ll want to find in your favor. You need to give him reason to do so. The only real evidence for the prosecution is Jefferson’s imperial declaration that you are guilty beyond a doubt. That’s nothing in a court of law. The Constitution requires an overt act of war levied against the United States, observed by two separate individuals. As I understand it, you weren’t even there during the whole business on Blennerhassett Island. Does Wilkinson have any other circumstance to use against you?”

“My counsel is well aware of all this,” Burr pointed out, ducking the question. “Why should I let you have the glory of arguing the case?”

Hamilton smirked as he gestured to his motionless lower half. “You’re right. For what could you possibly owe me a favor?”

“So it’s a favor, now? I thought this was for my benefit?”

Hamilton shrugged carelessly. “However you’d like to see it.”

“And you presume that I feel inclined to make amends.”

“I presume nothing.” Hamilton’s expression softened perceptibly. “I know you wish to make amends. I saw the regret on your face the moment I fell. You tried to run to my side; you would have, had Van Ness not caught you by the arm and forced you away.”

The scene overwhelmed Burr’s vision for a moment, the sun-dappled ridge, the smell of gun powder, Hamilton rising up on his toes before sinking downwards, a red stain spreading across his belly. He hadn’t meant to hit him, not really. He’d wanted vindication, an apology for the awful things Hamilton had said, not Hamilton’s death.

The hours, days of waiting, praying, that followed had been harrowing. Even when it was announced that Hamilton would not die, Burr hadn’t been safe in New York. A warrant went out for his arrest on the charge of dueling, though none had been issued against Hamilton. He’d fled Southward to safer ground, and hadn’t yet returned home.

“I would have paid you a call,” Burr began, the apology that had lived in his chest beginning to bubble out. “The timing didn’t seem appropriate. And then I had to leave—”

Hamilton sliced a hand through the air to cut off the explanation. “I wasn’t in any condition to receive you then anyway.”

They shared a long, quiet moment.

“You need me,” Hamilton insisted, jumping back to the topic at hand. “Your counsel is more than competent. I’m sure they will be able to convince Marshall and jury that the prosecution lacks evidence to convict on such a serious charge. But a not guilty verdict won’t mean much if it appears to have been won on a technicality. You’ll win in the court of justice, but not in the court of public opinion. Then what? Flee back to the West, or to Europe?”

“And you’ll win over the public?” Burr can’t help the skeptical tone in his voice. Hamilton’s never exactly been popular with the people, outside of the passage of the Constitution and the first few months after his catastrophic injury.

“Jefferson’s people are lost to you, whatever you do,” Hamilton replied. “But my support can win forgiveness from the Federalists. You could come home to New York.”

Burr hated just how good that proposal sounded.

“If they indict me,” Burr decided, emphasizing the first word, “We’ll talk.”

Burr fumbled in his pocket for the card with Hamilton’s current address scrawled across the back in his familiar, sloping hand. Two guards trailed behind him, allowing him one last stop before taking him to Luther Martin’s where he was to remain under house arrest. He was keenly aware of his conspicuousness as people peeked around curtains to watch his progress down the street.

“I’m surprised you’re not staying with Marshall,” Burr had remarked when Hamilton had jotted down the address for him.

“He offered,” Hamilton had replied as he finished penning the Broad Street address with a flourish. “But it seemed rather a conflict of interest given what I was in town to do.”

Matching the number on the card to that of house before him, Burr took a steadying breath and tapped his cane against door twice. Theo had been the one who insisted he call on Hamilton. Now that the grand jury had handed down an indictment, the threat of death loomed large over them all, except for his dear little Gampy, who remained happily oblivious.

A servant admitted him to a small parlor to wait. He paced anxiously for several minutes, painfully aware of his armed escorts waiting just outside, until he heard voices in the next room. Peeking his head out the door, he saw Hamilton and Eliza in the larger parlor across the way. Hamilton was bent forward in the chair, his arms braced against his knees, as Eliza tugged up his shirt to reveal his back and scooped something out of a small jar with her fingers.

“You’re in pain,” Eliza was saying, her expression severe. “Doctor Hosack said to apply the analgesic cream when you first feel a twinge, so it won’t get worse. And frankly, I don’t much mind keeping that man waiting.” The reference to Burr dripped with a loathing of which he hadn’t imagine the normally sweet, friendly woman capable.

Hamilton grimaced as his wife smoothed the contents of the jar gently over his spine. Her hand seemed to linger longer than necessary, savoring the touch. At last, she readjusted the shirt into place and moved to assist her husband back into his usual position.

“I can do it,” he snapped with an edge of frustration. She stood back patiently while he struggled to adjust himself up in the chair. The effort seemed to leave him mildly breathless.

“Hey,” she urged softly when he was settled, prompting him to look up at her. Leaning down, she fussed with his blanket, and then pressed her lips to his in a slow, loving kiss. When she pulled back, her hands cupped his face in a gesture of cherishing adoration. “I love you.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “I love you, too.”

His gaze shifted towards Burr a moment later, and the smile disappeared. Eliza turned towards him as well, her eyes narrowing at the sight of him. Burr retreated back into the small parlor, uncomfortable at having witnessed the private moment.

The progress of the wheelchair towards the smaller parlor was audible. Burr remained standing, leaning on the mantle, while Eliza guided the chair into place opposite an arm chair. Hamilton tilted his head back to look at her.

“Could you give us a few minutes?”

“No,” she said, firmly.

“Betsey,” Hamilton sighed, a note of amusement entering his tone, “I hardly think I’m in any danger. What do you think he’s going to do to me in the middle of the parlor at three in the afternoon?”

“I never expected Mr. Burr would do anything to harm you.” Accusation and betrayal laced her words. Her hands rested protectively on the back of her husband’s chair as she spoke. Burr’s eyes went to the floor like a chastened child. “I have no interest in giving him the opportunity to prove me wrong again.”

“It’s fine,” Burr assured them both. “I'll only be a minute. I just came to say, well, to ask.…” He pushed out a breath. “The grand jury handed down an indictment. I'm to be held under house arrest at Martin's during the trial.”

Hamilton nodded, unsurprised.

“I need your help.” Burr couldn’t look at Eliza as he said it. He waited, half expecting Hamilton to grin or to gloat.

Instead, Hamilton gave him a reassuring smile. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Burr.”

The relief that fluttered in his chest surprised him. He didn’t need Hamilton to assure victory in court, he knew. But his help promised something more than dodging a death sentence. The promise of forgiveness, of home, resided in Hamilton’s open expression. Unable to articulate the soaring feeling inside him, Burr managed only a whispered, “Thank you.”

#hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #aaron burr #theodosia burr alston #aaron burr alston #eliza hamilton #hamliza #post-duel au #hamilton lives

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helshades · 6 years ago

Text

nikolai-mikhailovich:

I can't . . . I can't even read these any more XD . . . can the anons just unfollow or download New X-Kit to block 'Assange' or whatever terms they need to stay sane? Why is this discussion still running? XD

@nikolai-mikhailovich, I... am not entirely sure, to be frank. Mostly, I suppose the minds of intellectually-lazy people are made early and it makes them very obstinate. Somehow I suspect they already know they’re in the wrong, so they will try to guilt-trip you, or misconstrue your ideas and arguments; ultimately, though, they don’t have much to say.

Where they are more of a nuisance is that you do waste a lot of time replying to people like those, and I believe you have to reply to those people because you will always need proof at some point that you can counter-argument on such topics. At the risk of feeding the proverbial troll, bad arguments on serious subjects must be analysed, discussed and counteracted. Someone I admire once said about fascist ideas that they always seem evident at first, to those at least who won’t try to see further, which frankly is many people; the problem is, countering those simplistic ideas takes a lot of time and a lot of educating as you need to paint a whole cultural context for why, say, the numbers of immigration don’t automatically explain the numbers of unemployment. Short-sightedness usually wins because it’s short. Intelligence, literally, implies that you take the long run to link ideas together.

yourellamental:

Thank you for posting that Julian Assange is the most important whistle-blower of all time. That is TRUTH !!

@yourellamental, thank you for the kind words!

I will add that no matter his personal faults, Mr. Assange should be given political asylum to protect him from extradition for political reasons that have nothing to do with whether we find him nice or not. Even if he were to be proven guilty of sexual misconduct (perhaps we ought to remember here that he was never accused of rape in the first place, as both women accusing him recognised that the sex was consensual; international media have reprised the term ‘rape’ but it is incorrect, perhaps gravely so, considering it does smear the name of a man who never even charged with the offences or crimes he is accused of committing, and is therefore innocent in front of the law) the facts remain that his capture by the United States would be an international tragedy impacting the very core of what the West holds true and dear concerning freedom of the press and freedom of information. Let him be heard, even tried for those alleged sexual assault charges, but let it never be a pretext to use him as an example for all journalists henceforth tempted to cross the path of superpowers that would do wrong without consequence.

nikolai-mikhailovich:

I have to say, I can fully understand - and support - victims having anonymity, but why not also people accused? I don't know enough about the case to voice an opinion, but we've had celebrities in the UK found innocent, but - during the course of the investigation - traumatised by press coverage, intrusive paparazzi, and their reputations ruined (not to mention vigilante justice). Since when was "innocent until proven guilty" something only 'bad' people believe in?

You know, in early phases of our dispute the darling Nonny made a spiteful comment about ‘leftists blindly supporting rapists’ and I didn’t take the time to answer at that point, but I’m going to come back to it.

‘Just saying. I don't care about the US. He needs to be extradiated to Sweden to face his rape charges. That's what a lot of UK MPs and officials want anyways.’

Followed by a disparaging remark about the very real menace Assange faces of being tortured and either getting a life sentence or being executed, threats that I am supposed to have made up, of course. I did provide context for this and the fact that several U.S. officials have been on record advocating for Julian Assange’s execution, or life-long imprisonment, and even for him to get abducted from within the embassy.

‘I don’t care about the U.S., he needs to be extradited to Sweden’. It is almost absurd to be this dense. Like The Guardian’s Glenn Greenwald noted back in 2012 when the U.K. Supreme Court rejected Assange’s last appeal: Sweden ‘has a disturbing history of lawlessly handing over suspects to the U.S.’ which has actually sent innocent asylum seekers to be tortured once extradited to America.

As for ‘what a lot of UK MPs and officials want’... Indeed. Speaking of leftists speaking up for human rights and, you know, democracy:

‘The UK government, headed by Theresa May, is gloating over Assange’s arrest, issuing statements that are clearly prejudicial to any legal proceedings. When May, speaking to parliament, declared the “whole house will welcome the news this morning that the Metropolitan police have arrested Julian Assange,” Tory MPs and many Labourites cheered in approval.

Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn issued a pro-forma statement declaring that the extradition of Assange “should be opposed by the British government,” but he kept his mouth shut when May issued her denunciation before parliament and has maintained a silence on Assange during his forced asylum in the Ecuadorean embassy.

As for the United States, while the Trump administration is now leading the campaign against Assange, the Democratic Party is solidly behind his persecution, blaming Assange for contributing to the exposure of the crimes for which Hillary Clinton was justly and massively hated. One of the central aims of the Democrats’ anti-Russia campaign has been to justify the attack on WikiLeaks as part of a broader campaign for internet censorship.

Added to the list of those responsible is the pseudo-left, the organizations of the upper-middle class in the US and internationally, which seized on the initial fraudulent and trumped-up rape allegations against Assange to justify his persecution and their own cowardly abandonment of Assange to American imperialism.

For its part, the establishment media, which functions as an arm of the state, has jumped in to support the attack on Assange.’

Many people will have a disturbing tendency to support ‘human rights’ only when it applies to things they like or comprehend, and generally things that don’t shake their sense of self. They’re not interested in legal proceedings and fair justice, they want to know that if they were the ones being accused of anything, they would be protected. Meanwhile, since being accused only ever happens to other people, they know they can safely join the howling cohorts from the comfort of their home and rejoice at the idea that someone bad, who isn’t them, is being punished for something that they have not committed, or that they have, but whose consequences they have escaped scot-free.

[...] “Mr. Assange is not a free-press hero,” declares the Post. “Unlike real journalists, WikiLeaks dumped material into the public domain.” By the Post’s definition, the only “real journalists” are those who self-censor at the behest of the Pentagon.

These newspapers, which once published the Pentagon Papers, are nothing but apologists for US imperialism. One can only imagine the howls of outrage that would issue from the media if it was the Russian government that had carried out the forcible seizure and arrest of a journalist and critic of its foreign policy!

In the seven years of Assange’s confinement in the Ecuadorean embassy, much has changed. Most significant is the eruption of class struggle internationally. It is the fear of the emergence of the class struggle, combined with growing opposition to capitalism, that is compelling the ruling elites to destroy all democratic rights, including the freedom of expression, of which Assange's persecution is the most grotesque example.

In the working class there is overwhelming sympathy for Assange. A dividing line has opened up in social, economic and political life. The ruling elites are shedding their democratic pretenses. Their media and the pseudo-socialist opposition—the representatives of the politics of the affluent upper-middle class—function as defenders of the state and the dictatorship of the financial oligarchy.’

You’ll forgive the overwhelming leftist but, yes. Quite.

#answers #yourellamental #nikolai-mikhailovich #free julian assange #julian assange #asile politique pour julian assange #political asylum for julian assange

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artyblogs · 7 years ago

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Launch Date ch 5 One Angry Pantoran

Star Wars the Clone Wars, Ahsoka/Riyo

Launch Date summary: In which Ahsoka mistakes Riyo for an office secretary, Riyo is sometimes too gay to function, and R7-A7 is determined to be a trollish kark.

First Chapter : Previous Chapter : Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: Riyo is kinda ride-or-die for Ahsoka. She's not really subtle about it.

Breaking News flashes across the holoscreen before a male Hosnian anchor appears.

“Good evening, Galactic Republic. Welcome to tonight’s segment of HNN. I’m Lyrax Pentigure. Tonight’s top story: A planet-wide manhunt is underway by the Republic for the recapture of Jedi padawan Ahsoka Tano. She is considered armed and dangerous and was last seen fleeing into the Coruscanti undercity. The Five Hundred and First Legion, led by Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, has assured the public that they are doing everything within their power to bring her back into custody. Padawan Tano is charged with the murder of Letta Turmond and with the extensive bombing of the Jedi Temple hangar that happened earlier this week, which left at least two dozen dead and many more wounded. Joining us tonight is Rogan Cham, who is live at the Republic prison and taking statements from witnesses. We go to him now. Rogan, are you there?”

Riyo can’t hear the rest of the segment over the ringing in her ears. What? What?

“We have gotten a hold of the footage of the murder of Mrs. Turmond. Please be warned, what you will see is quite graphic and not suitable for younglings. If you have a heart condition, please look away now.”

They play the clip. Riyo’s jaw drops in horror.

“While we have invited the Jedi Council to send a representative here tonight, they have declined, citing professional conflict of interest,” Lyrax says. “So joining me tonight is a third-party analyst specializing in the Force. Thank you for being here this evening, Doctor.”

“Thank you for having me, Lyrax.”

“In the clip, Padawan Tano appears to be using the Force to murder Mrs. Turmond. Is that possible for a Force-wielder to do?”

“Yes, quite possible….”

Riyo turns off the holoscreen and lets the remote slip from her numbed fingers. It lands with a muffled thump on the rug next to her foot. Thoughts, half-formed, swim in Riyo’s head, each shouting for attention.

She’s a good person!

Could always investigate it yourself….

Don’t be so naive! That clip is damning enough.

You’re a senator, not a detective.

She ran. She ran! How guilty does that look?

The room spins around Riyo and she shuts her eyes. She thinks about how warm Ahsoka’s eyes are when she smiles. They’re the clearest blue.

If you get involved, you’ll be put on lists.

That’s never stopped you before.

You’re going to form an opinion without all the evidence?

Sure you’re thinking clearly? You’ve got that crush….

“Shush!” Riyo shouts to herself. All the anxious, extra thoughts in her head fall silent. She clenches her jaw and picks up her black data pad to send a few messages. Thirty minutes later, and she has strong-armed herself into having access to the investigation files. She opens them up and reads, but the more she reads, the angrier she gets.

Letta Turmond’s body hasn’t been scheduled for an autopsy.

All the guards that Ahsoka allegedly beat up when she escaped the prison facility haven’t been interrogated.

Despite having multiple security holocams in that prison, the footage from all the other holocams isn’t being gathered, or looked at, or submitted into evidence.

Riyo wants to throw the data pad across the room. Either the investigators are inept eopies, or someone is actively trying to hide evidence. She gasps, and her mind goes light speed.

Ahsoka’s being framed, but it’s not by just one person. The one who murdered Turmond must be a Force-wielder, by virtue of the Force choke. There must be at least one other person to hide the proof of the existence of the first. An entire team maybe. And they’re doing all this without being noticed. Who has enough power to set this all up? Who has enough influence?

The more Riyo thinks about it, the more a sense of foreboding settles in her stomach.

Does she still want to get involved?

The next morning, over yet another cup of coffee, Riyo watches the blank holoscreen and wonders how badly she’ll regret turning it on, but turns it on anyway. On the holoscreen, a female Twi’lek anchor straightens the data pad on her desk before looking up at the camera.

“Good morning, Galactic Republic. This is Ultana Anya for Coruscant News Desk on HNN. Today’s top story: Former Jedi padawan Ahsoka Tano was captured by Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker and the Five Hundred and First Legion late last night in the Coruscanti undercity, where she was found in possession of a couple hundred kilograms of nano-droid explosives. Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin released a statement assuring the Republic that Miss Tano will be charged with Treason against the Republic and that her trial is scheduled to take place later this morning in a public military tribunal. Miss Tano is also charged with the murder of Letta Turmond and with….”

Riyo turns the holoscreen off and picks up her black data pad. She’s been monitoring the investigation all night for any changes and new evidence, but none have showed up. She switches out of the Investigation site and goes into the court dockets to search for Ahsoka’s trial. When she finds it, she scans the names for Ahsoka’s assigned litigator: Padmé Amidala.

Of course she would be. And who else would do the job justice? Riyo calls Padmé’s hologram comlink. It rings twice before it’s answered.

“Riyo?” Padmé asks before she peers closer. “Are you alright?”

“Just another all-nighter. That doesn’t matter. May I talk to you about Ahsoka’s trial?”

Padmé’s eyes widen in surprise. “Yes, but not over comlink. There’s not much time. Please meet me in my office, Riyo.”

“Thank you, Padmé.”

When the call ends, Riyo packs her things and is out the door in less than a minute.

Padmé’s office is bright with morning sunlight and finely decorated. It even smells faintly of potpourri. Padmé ushers Riyo into her office and locks the door behind them.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” Padmé asks.

“What? No.” How can she eat at a time like this? “Padmé, have you seen the files for this case? It’s so unfair. How could they do this to her? How could the Jedi expel her from the Order?”

“It doesn’t look good,” Padmé says. She presses a rainbow berry muffin into Riyo’s hands. “I’ll do my best, but really, it’s up to Anakin.”

“What do you mean?” Riyo asks. She takes a bite of the muffin out of politeness and finds that she’s actually really hungry. She takes another bite.

“Anakin’s trying to find the real culprit of the Jedi bombings.” Padmé eases into her chair with a sigh. “He has a lead, but we don’t know how long it’ll take for him to follow up on it.”

“So all you can do is stall.” Riyo finishes her muffin and wipes the crumbs from her mouth. “But if you drag the trial on too much, the Chancellor will throw you out in Contempt of Court.”

“True. And therein lies the problem. I cannot be a good litigator for Ahsoka and stall for Anakin at the same time.”

“But someone else could stall.”

Padmé nods. “It would be incredibly difficult.”

“Let me do it,” Riyo says. “Please.”

Padmé beams at Riyo. It’s gone after a moment, making Riyo wonder if she imagined it. Padmé takes up a data pad and taps on it.

“I’ve assigned you a place on the jury,” she says. “Good luck.”

“Thank you, Padmé. Good luck to you too.”

“And Riyo,” Padmé calls to her just before she leaves. “You cannot falter. Not even once.”

Riyo nods and the door of the office slides shut between them.

The following items are not allowed in the courtroom: all weapons, comlinks, and (for some reason) Neimoidian finger traps. Riyo gives up her derringer and her comlink to Magnus before she steps into the Jury Box and settles into her seat, leaving him to wait for her outside. The courtroom is a vast, empty, intimidating room. The Chancellor sits on the Judge’s Dais, which is raised to the highest point in the courtroom. He sits in his chair like a king in his throne.

The Jury Box and the Press Box are the next highest points in the room on opposite sides of the the Judge’s Dais, and below them are the Gallery Boxes, where people can sit in on the trial and watch as long as they’re quiet. They’re full to the brim with people, and their low murmurs echo around the room. In the middle of the court are platforms for the defense and prosecution.

When Ahsoka is escorted onto the defendant’s platform, the sound from the Gallery rise in volume and the Vice Chancellor must bang his staff on the floor to keep order. Everyone in the Jury Box is too steeped in a culture of politeness and ceremony to contribute to the noise, but their cool demeanor is damning enough. Ahsoka looks so small from where Riyo sits; a spot of orange surrounded by the dark, gaping abyss below. Padmé and Tarkin take their respective places as the defense and prosecution.

Thus, the Trial of Ahsoka Tano begins.

Padmé is a marvelous litigator; eloquent and concise. As terrible as these last two days are, at least Riyo gets to watch her in action. However, Padmé has pitifully little to work with and her defense is short.

Admiral Tarkin undoes all of Padmé’s good work within minutes. He’s not the stirring orator that Padmé is, but he has a mountain of evidence, and he knows how to heckle Ahsoka, who takes his bait.

Too soon, the jurors are sequestered in a soundproof room to deliberate. On Pantora, juries must reach a unanimous vote, making hung juries possible. On Coruscant, the majority jury vote wins, so Riyo must keep everyone from casting their votes as long as possible.

The head juror is Senator Kin Robb, a hawkish woman whose apathy for Riyo is only matched by her loathing for Separatists. They’re joined by Senators Bail Organa, Mon Mothma, and a few other senators, bringing their number up to twelve. They sit around a long conference table, leaving Kin Robb the seat at the head.

“My fellow senators,” Kin says. “I think we’ve heard all that we need to hear. On the table before you are one-time-use data pads, where you will cast your votes for Miss Tano’s fate.”

“Wait! Please.” Riyo stands up.

“Senator Chuchi, you have something to say?” Kin asks.

Riyo looks around the room at the other senators and steels herself. “Yes. You see, I believe that Ahsoka Tano is innocent, and this is why.”

Riyo stands there and talks. She doesn’t stop.

Halfway into the first hour of her speech, Bail Organa seems to catch on to what she’s doing, and he settles back in his seat. The only sign of his amusement is a subtle twitch of his goatee. He catches Mon’s eye and winks at her, and Mon looks back and forth between the both of them in astonishment. She too, makes herself comfortable and folds her hands in her lap.

At the one hour mark, a clone trooper knocks on the door.

“Excuse me, Senators. Is everything alright in there?”

“Yes, trooper.” Kin shoots Riyo an annoyed look. “One of us is still deliberating.”

“Ah. I see,” the trooper says. “I’ll take my leave then.” He goes, and everyone turns back to Riyo.

“You were saying, Senator Chuchi?” Bail asks. Riyo continues. At the two hour mark, the trooper knocks again.

“I’ve brought lunch for everyone.”

“Thank you, Trooper,” Kin says. “Senator Chuchi, are you done?”

“I’m not done, Senator Robb.” Riyo ignores the groans of the other senators. Kin stands aside so that the trooper can carry bags of sandwiches into the room.

“If you are so determined to speak, then I suppose you won’t be needing any food,” Kin says. Mon’s eyes widen and a senator on the other end of the table gasps. Riyo’s eyes narrow. She knew that this might happen. She straightens up and looks Kin in the eye.

“You are correct, Senator. I won’t be needing food. If I may continue?”

“Please do,” Mon says.

Riyo talks. She kicks off her shoes to stand more comfortably, but its too late. Her feet and legs are already in pain from fatigue. At the three hour mark, another Senator raises his hand.

“Are there breaks? I would like to use the refresher.”

Mumbled agreement winds its way around the room.

“Unfortunately, Senator,” Bail says, “We must stay in here until we cast our votes.”

“You can’t keep us in here forever,” Kin says.

“Indeed,” Bail says. “We’ll go one at a time then, so it isn’t an official break. Senator Chuchi, I’m afraid your predicament disqualifies you from reprieve.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Senator Organa,” Riyo says. “Fortunately, I am prepared to talk for a long time.”

Four hours into Riyo’s speech, her voice cracks. She is so tired. Her body aches from the strain of standing up for so long, but she can’t lean against anything, not even the table. Her stomach has started gnawing on itself. Riyo hides her discomfort under a mask of indifference and keeps going.

Five hours in, Kin slams her hands on the table.

“Senator Chuchi, that is enough!”

“I’m,” Riyo begins, but the other senators cut in.

“Not done,” they chorus.

“Yes, we know,” another senator says from the back.

“Let her speak, Senator Robb,” Bail says.

“Your amusement is irrelevant, Senator Organa! Senator Chuchi may be content to play a fool, but I will not let her make a mockery of the justice system!”

“Sit down, Senator Robb,” Riyo says. Her gold eyes are narrowed and her mouth set in a thin, savage line. Kin almost takes a step back. “I’m not done.”

“No,” Kin sits down. “Please continue.”

Around six hours in, Riyo loses her voice. She clears her throat, and drinks some water, but in vain. Kin stands up and stares down her imperiously.

“You’re done.”

“No,” Riyo tries to say, but it doesn’t come out. Her throat is hot and ragged, like she’s been swallowing razors.

“You’re done, Senator Chuchi,” Kin says, and Riyo clenches her jaw. Not yet, not yet! She can go a little longer. Desperation squeezes her heart.

“But, I just,” Riyo tries again.

“Sit. Down.”

Riyo sinks down into her chair, defeated. Satisfied, Kin surveys the entire jury room.

“Despite Senator Chuchi’s valiant efforts to dissuade us, we have all heard the evidence presented in the courtroom and thus already know what the verdict should be. Please take up your data pads and vote on what Miss Tano’s fate should be now.”

Riyo pulls her data pad towards her. She taps on Not Guilty and she knows it isn’t enough. When the court reconvenes, she sits back in her seat in the Jury Box and scans the courtroom for Anakin. He isn’t there. She catches Padmé eye and mouths, “Where is he?”

Padmé gives the slightest shake of her head and lowers her gaze. Riyo clenches her hands in her lap. One of the senators stands up and reads from a small data pad.

“The members of the court have reached a decision.” He taps on the screen to transfer the information to the Chancellor’s data pad. The Chancellor nods and stands up to deliver the verdict.

“Ahsoka Tano, by an overwhelming count of,” but he never gets to finish his sentence. Anakin Skywalker barges through the courtroom doors like a big damn hero, announcing to everyone that the real culprit is Barriss Offee.

Ahsoka wants to run back into the Council Chamber and scream that she’s made a mistake. That what she really does want is to be a Jedi Knight. She’s earned it more than twice over. She deserves that title, and all she’s ever wanted was to be a Jedi Master someday. But even as half of her is begging to go back, Ahsoka presses on, making her way out of the Jedi Temple. She can’t stay in this place for another minute. The Force, merciful as It is, keeps her from bumping into anyone else on her way out. If she did meet someone, she might not keep herself together and she might even change her mind about leaving.

Anakin runs out after her and tries to get her to stay, but all he ends up doing is rehash a lot of things she already knows. He even hints at his forbidden relationship with Padmé.

“I know,” Ahsoka says, and Anakin gapes down at her. Ahsoka looks out at the sunset and remembers a different sunset seen from an observation deck so many years ago. In that instant, she realizes that she can’t just leave Anakin here like this. She whirls around to talk to him again, surprising them both.

“Come with me.”

“Ahsoka.”

“I’m serious. Come with me! Expelled. Expelled and barred from the Jedi Order. Those are the words the Council used, so they can chew on that. But you, I could never turn my back on you. No matter what happens, you’ll always be my master.”

Anakin’s look of surprise softens into incredible fondness. Ahsoka presses on.

“You could be who you want, be with who you want! What do you say?”

Anakin closes his eyes. “I can’t.”

Ahsoka, resigned, gives him a watery smile. “It’s a standing offer then. I’ll see you around, Skyguy.”

“Wait,” Anakin says. He looks down at the padawan braid clenched in his fist and takes Ahsoka’s hand. When he pulls away, he leaves the braid clasped around her wrist as a bracelet. Ahsoka stares in wonder at it, then reaches up to cover it with her other hand.

“You’re a sap.” Ahsoka smiles despite herself.

“You’re the one who’s about to cry. You still wanna leave the Jedi?”

“Yeah. I can’t…I need to figure things out, and I can’t do that with the Council looking over my shoulder.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Snips.”

“I’ll miss you too, Skyguy.”

“Have fun. Be safe,” Anakin shouts as Ahsoka walks away so that she can still hear him. “Make good choices!”

Ahsoka laughs through her tears as she walks down the Jedi Temple steps. She almost bumps into her old Astromech droid.

“R7?” Ahsoka asks. She clears her throat. R7 whistles. “What are you doing here?”

R7 beeps.

“I can’t. I’m not a Jedi anymore.” Something cracks in Ahsoka’s chest at that and she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “I’m not a Jedi anymore. And you belong to the Republic.”

R7 beeps again.

“That’s called stealing.”

Halfway into R7’s tirade, Ahsoka raises her hand.

“Stop, no need to curse. Fine, come with me, but I don’t have a plan.”

R7 extends his manipulators and presents a wrist hologram comlink with a flourish. Ta-da!

“For me? Aw, you shouldn’t have.” Ahsoka snaps the comlink onto the forearm of her gauntlet and notices that there’s a missed call. She calls back and after a couple beeps, Padmé’s bust appears in the hologram.

“Padmé!”

“Hi, Ahsoka, I just heard the news from Anakin. I’m sorry it didn’t work out with the Jedi.”

“It’s okay. Thanks again for being my litigator. It means a lot.”

“You’re very welcome, but I didn’t do it all myself. You should thank Riyo too.”

“Riyo? She was on the jury, right? What did she do?”

Padmé’s eyes widen in surprise. “You don’t know? No one told you why the jury deliberated for so long?”

“No. Why? What happened?”

“Riyo stalled the jury vote with a filibuster. She gave Anakin time to investigate. Bail tells me she did very well.”

“Oh,” Ahsoka says. That’s all she can say.

“You should go see her.”

“Yeah, I’ll go see her,” Ahsoka repeats. A knowing smile spreads across Padmé’s face and she gives a little wave before she ends the call. Ahsoka sighs. “Let’s go, R7.”

Riyo has fallen asleep in her office chair, which is impressive, considering how uncomfortable it looks. Ahsoka and Magnus watch her from the other side of the desk, absolutely unsurprised.

“She hasn’t slept in close to thirty-six hours.” Magnus’s whisper is a low rumble in his chest.

“Then she shouldn’t be here, she should go home,” Ahsoka whispers back.

“She won’t listen to me, but she’ll listen to you.”

Ahsoka moves closer. Despite the angle of Riyo’s neck, she still looks incredibly peaceful while asleep, and Ahsoka almost doesn’t want to disturb her. Riyo’s forehead is smoothed free of thought, and her dark lashes rest against her cheeks. A loose lock of purple hair has fallen across her face, and Ahsoka reaches out, wanting to tuck it behind her ear.

She falters and gently shakes Riyo’s shoulder instead.

“Riyo,” she whispers. Riyo stirs under her hand and Ahsoka pulls away. “Wake up.”

“Ahsoka,” Riyo tries to say. Ahsoka gasps.

“You lost your voice.”

“I’m fine.” Tea and honey hasn’t improved Riyo’s voice much. It’s still raspy and painful to hear. She straightens up in her chair and stretches out the kinks in her back. There’s a popping sound and she sighs and relaxes.

“You need to rest,” Ahsoka says.

“I need to work,” Riyo whispers.

“How can you work like this?” Ahsoka asks. When Riyo doesn’t answer, Ahsoka smirks. “There, see? I win. Come on, we’re taking you home.”

“We?”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka says. She and Magnus share a look. “I feel kinda responsible.”

“But it’s not your fault.”

“Riyo, let me take care of you.”

Riyo hesitates, then nods. She picks up her bag and the three of them leave the office.

When they get into Riyo’s apartment, R7 requests a power outlet and Riyo points to one. R7 beeps his thanks and rolls off to recharge. Riyo goes into the kitchen and Ahsoka follows her.

“Are you really going to cook right now?”

“I can still do things.”

“Wow, no. I promised that I’d take care of you, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Riyo gives a silent chuckle. “Then can you please make tea?”

Ahsoka makes tea and cooks bacon and eggs, which is the only thing she knows how to cook without Riyo’s help. They eat in the living room while watching a hologram show, and whenever Riyo says some scathing commentary, she has to lean closer to Ahsoka so that she can hear her. Ahsoka doesn’t really mind how close they end up getting. It’s cozy, with her in her customary blanket and Riyo as warm as she is. As nice as…whatever is happing is, however, Ahsoka can’t shake this mess of emotion that’s bottled up in the back of her mind. It’s demanding and needy and it pops.

“I can’t believe Barriss killed those people,” Ahsoka says. Riyo glances at her and turns the volume of the holoscreen down.

“Neither can I,” she whispers.

Ahsoka closes her eyes against forming tears. “Maybe someone put her up to it? Maybe it’s an act?”

“I doubt anyone could make Barriss do anything she didn’t think was in the interest of the greater good.”

“Then…then how long has she felt this way? And she didn’t talk to anyone? She didn’t talk to Master Unduli. She didn’t talk to me and we’re supposed to be friends. I don’t understand why she didn’t just…tell someone.”

“Maybe she felt like she couldn’t go to anyone in the Jedi Order,” Riyo whispers. “When you were feeling bad about things, you came to me, and I’m not a Jedi.”

“That’s…true,” Ahsoka says. Everyone else in the Jedi Order is fighting in this war, and no one ever complains. So who the hell is Ahsoka to complain? Who is she even supposed to talk to? Anakin and Obi-Wan are always too absorbed in the next stages of the war to decompress. Plo is usually in the Outer Rim and too busy to take a comlink call. Just keep that lightsaber up, and keep your head down, and maybe you’ll live to see tomorrow.

But Barriss couldn’t cope. Ahsoka remembers their call through the hologram booth, and the fight in the warehouse. There was no time then to notice anything other than Asajj’s helmet and lightsabers, but in hindsight, the assailant was so much shorter than Asajj.

“But still, how could she frame me?” Ahsoka asks. “I thought…I thought I meant more to her than that.”

“I’m sorry,” Riyo whispers.

“It’s…I’m so confused. Everything’s messed up. Barriss was supposed to be a good person, but…you know. And then Ventress was supposed to be Sith scum, but she’s not anymore?”

Riyo’s eyes widen in surprise. “Asajj Ventress isn’t a Sith anymore?”

“No, she’s not. She’s just a bounty hunter now. And, and she helped me while I was on the run. I guess the galaxy is a wonderful place sometimes? Everything was so clear, and now it’s not. It’s so…it’s.”

Riyo lays a hand over Ahsoka’s clenched fist. Ahsoka blinks and realizes that the mug of tea and data cards on the coffee table are rattling. She loosens her hands and the rattling stops.

“You’re overwhelmed,” Riyo whispers. She pulls away and continues as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. “When I feel that way, I find it’s a lot more manageable to handle one problem at a time. It’s not alright, what’s happened to you, and it’s not going to go away overnight. But maybe, if you chip at it bit by bit, it’ll get better.”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka says, still staring at the mug. “Yeah.”

“Do you have a place to stay?”

“What?” Ahsoka can’t believe her montrals. Stay here, with Riyo? After that little display? Considering what she might still do?

“You could stay here until you get back on your feet,” Riyo whispers. She clears her throat and winces.

Ahsoka gapes. “That might not be a good idea. I’ll stay somewhere else.”

“It’s no problem, Ahsoka. Don’t worry about it. So many others have abandoned you. I won’t be put on that same list. You can take the couch. I’ll get you a pillow.” Riyo gives Ahsoka a smile and leaves. She comes back with a pillow and an armful of blankets, which she presses into Ahsoka’s arms.

“How do you have all this?” Ahsoka asks as she makes her bed on the couch. “I thought Pantorans didn’t feel cold?”

“Are you saying Pantorans can’t be comfy?” Riyo asks. When Ahsoka sputters, she laughs. “I’m only teasing. We don’t feel the cold while we’re awake, but when we sleep, our body temperature gets dangerously low and we could slip into a pseudo-hibernation state.”

“Oh so that’s why you sleep with sweatpants?” Ahsoka asks.

“No, I don’t wear—yes. That’s why I sleep with sweatpants.” Riyo flushes indigo and can’t meet Ahsoka’s eyes. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Ahsoka considers leaving Riyo’s apartment. When she first started using the Force, it was akin to a youngling clumsily learning how to walk. If she tripped and fell, she was only in danger of hurting herself. She’s never lost control of the Force like that before. It felt cold. Ahsoka pulls her blanket tighter around herself.

If she left now, then Riyo would be safe. It sickens her to think that she could be dangerous to anyone, let alone to Riyo, but she is.

However, Riyo’s the only one so far who’s helping her through this. If she left now, then there’s a very good chance that whatever is going on with her is going to get worse. Riyo may have learned a little about the Force throughout their friendship, but she wouldn’t know what happens when a Force-sensitive gets…unfocused.

“Ugh.” Ahsoka buries her face in her hands. Great. This is just what she needs on top of what’s happened: an ethical dilemma.

BWOOP BWOOP. R7 rolls towards her. Ahsoka gives him a tired smile.

“Hey, bud. You’re a logical guy, mind solving a problem for me?”

R7 tells her that that’s a terrible idea.

“I know. It’s just, well.” Ahsoka explains to him her dilemma in a low voice, so that she doesn’t disturb Riyo. While she does this, the pieces click together in her mind and she falls silent.

R7 tells her that it sounds like she’s already made up her mind. She has. Force forgive her, but she’s going to stay.

The machine shop is plunged in darkness. Power tools and parts are strewn about the slick, cracked duracrete floor, tables are tipped onto their sides, and sparks fly out from loose wires in the half-demolished walls. Ahsoka struggles to free herself from a mess of wide, flexible ducts that are snaked around her.

“Hello?” she shouts. Her voice echoes back to her. She finally gets to her feet and picks her way across the mess. “Hello?”

“Help!” someone calls, and Ahsoka turns around. “Over here!”

It’s Mechanic, and she’s dangling from the ceiling while wrapped in a tarp and tangled in a mess of thick, cabled wires.

“Hi,” Mechanic says.

“What the kriff happened in here?” Ahsoka rights the nearest table and drags it over to Mechanic, who tries her best to shrug.

“The entire week happened! You try keeping a psyche together under what’s been going on lately.”

“Okay, you have a point. Thank you.” Ahsoka stands on the table and reaches up to pull on a couple cables. “But who put you up here?”

A sinister laugh echoes around them. Ahsoka and Mechanic share a look.

“She’s still in here?” Ahsoka asks. Mechanic shrugs again.

“She’s a part of you like how I’m a part of you. We can’t just leave.”

“Where is she? Why can’t I see her?”

Mechanic hisses through her teeth. “I hoped you wouldn’t ask that.”

“Why?”

“If you’re not a Jedi anymore, then what are you?”

“What?” Ahsoka notices her hands. They’re ashy and streaked with familiar sickly veins. “No!”

“Ah, wait! Don’t panic!” Mechanic wriggles around, looking very much like a crazed caterpillar while she’s wrapped in the tarp.

“I am not Sith!” Ahsoka shouts. All the machines in the room shake from her anger and Ahsoka gasps and turns around to look at them. Behind her, the cables snap and Mechanic falls to the floor with a crash.

“Ow.”

“I’m not Sith,” Ahsoka repeats, her fists clenched. Mechanic wrestles her way out of the tarp and dusts herself off.

“Can you maybe chill?”

“How about maybe you chill?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me! No, you know what? No.” Ahsoka raises her hands. “We’re not having this conversation right now.”

“You say that, but how else are we gonna clean this mess up?”

“Shush!”

Any further conversation is cut off when the machine from last time flickers to life. The two Ahsokas turn to it and get closer to better see. On the holoscreen looms the Jedi Temple, under repairs and frequented by Jedi. A bit of static later, and the Temple is on fire. Dark smoke billows into the air. People scream and run.

“Oh Force, turn it off.” Ahsoka reaches out, but as soon as she touches the screen, she gets sucked through it to the steps of the Jedi Temple. She smells the smoke and the screams reverberate in her montrals.

“No!” Ahsoka shouts. She flinches when something deeper in the Temple explodes.

“Good soldiers follow orders.” A clone trooper raises his blaster and aims at Ahsoka, who reaches for lightsabers that aren’t there.

“Trooper, stand down,” Ahsoka says.

“Good soldiers follow orders,” the clone says again. He’s joined by more clones who mutter the same thing and take aim. They shoot.

Note Bene: Before I even started writing this fic, I needed to justify Riyo’s status as the Senator. How the hell is she qualified to be such an important politician at such a young age? How? I agonized over it until I realized that she would be qualified if she was the Pantoran pseudo-equivalent of Alexander Hamilton, hence the parallels between them.

If you’ve been enjoying this story and want to see more, there’s good news: It’s available on AO3 and Fanfiction.net. Check it out! Please leave some comments for me so I can feel better about my existence.

#star wars the clone wars #fanfiction #riyosoka #Ahsoka Tano #riyo chuchi #artillery writes #Launch Date

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junker-town · 4 years ago

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How the 1919 Chicago White Sox Could Have Gotten Away With Throwing the World Series

Bettmann Archive

If you’re gonna fix the World Series you gotta plan ahead

In 1919 the Chicago White Sox conspired to throw the World Series in return for cold hard cash. But they got caught. Instead of being rich World Series runner ups, they were maligned, hated, kicked out and dubbed the Black Sox. Which I think is a real shame. If you don’t agree, consider this: the Sox were both super underpaid and subject to a reverse clause which basically meant that they had to accept their bad contract or get out. In those circumstances, cheating was a way to even up the ... sorta ... fine, maybe I’m trying to justify cheating because it’s fun to get away with stuff. But either way, with better planning and foresight, the Chicago White Sox could have gotten away with throwing the World Series. Here’s how:

Get The Flu

Star Sox pitcher Red Faber actually missed the World Series because he got the flu. Now, if everyone had just hung out with Red a bit and contracted the flu, they’d be in the clear! Just go play baseball all sick, and as long as nobody pulls a Michael Jordan, you’re losing the World Series with a bona fide excuse that basically isn’t cheating!

Now I suppose the White Sox might not jump at this idea cuz like... the flu can be serious and deadly etc etc. If they wanted to throw the World Series more safely, they could have thrown it in a way no one would ever expect.

Bet On Yourself

The White Sox could simply bet they’d win the World Series. Okay, technically this is reverse-throwing the World Series, but it’s still gambling so hear me out. They were the favorites, so it wouldn’t be that hard to accomplish. And best of all, it would be impossible to get caught! Nobody would be like “Wow, they’re playing really hard. Something’s fishy!” If anyone did say that, they’d be considered a monster. Ever heard of the spirit of competition, you monster?

There is a negative side of this plan, the payout would be kinda measly since the Sox were slated to win. The whole low risk, low reward thing.

So far all these ideas are all about not getting caught. But, the truth is, even though the White Sox got caught, they did manage to “get away with it” legally speaking— they were found not guilty after some evidence mysteriously disappeared. However, the MLB was so pissed with how this scandal tarnished their wholesome, squeaky-clean image, they banned the players for life. A bummer! Especially because that consequence could have been avoided with a little PR spin. Some ideas:

Flood the market with poems about baseball

Okay, I know this one sounds weird, but I’m pretty sure poems were fairly popular in the old days. Poems were like their memes. Before anybody knew anything fishy was going on during the 1919 World Series, the Philadelphia Bulletin published the following poem:

Still, it really doesn’t matter, After all, who wins the flag. Good clean sport is what we’re after, And we aim to make our brag To each near or distant nation Whereon shines the sporting sun That of all our games gymnastic Base ball is the cleanest one!

Okay, couple of observations about this poem. Fans in 1919 were very lame. “It doesn’t really matter who wins the flag because baseball is such a clean sport, hooray!”? That’s embarrassing. But, after they were caught cheating, this poem was certainly something everyone could point to and say “See! See what the White Sox did to our beautiful game!” Popular sportswriter Ring Lardner even wrote a parody, which I hesitate to call a parody because it has no humor.

I’m forever blowing ballgames, Pretty ballgames in the air, I come from Chi, I hardly try, Just go to bat and fade and die.

Alright Lardner, nobody died. I know it’s a poem but take the pathos down a notch.

When there are only two poems about baseball in the paper, yeah — everybody’s gonna read ‘em. It’s 1919, what else are people gonna read, their own obituaries? But if there’s like 20 poems? 30 poems? They’re gonna get old real quick. Plus, the Sox could influence public opinion with their own poems. For Example:

Baseball is a fun game The players each have their own name Because they’re real people with real lives And it’s no big of a deal if a team dives

Or take this one for a spin:

I like baseball a lot But there are too many rules Here’s a thought Playing by all of them’s for fools

Be nicer to “Sleepy” Bill Burns

“Sleepy” Bill Burns went along with the cheating, then turned state’s witness and testified against his teammates. But maybe if the rest of the guys had been a little nicer to Sleepy, he wouldn’t have. Like, why not give him a nicer nickname? Something like “Handsome” Bill Burns. Maybe something more direct like “Loyal” Bill Burns or even “Our Best Pal Who We’d Never Betray” Bill Burns. It’s a long one, sure, but it might pay off. A united front is a good look. Plus, you’d keep the sordid details out of the press.

Snitch on others

There were allegedly attempts to fix the World Series in 1903, 1905, 1914, 1917 and 1918. Give yourself the old “everybody’s doing it!” excuse.

Hire security for players testifying in court

You might think it’s bad PR to have a bunch of security guards keeping the public away from the players, but consider what happened when fans were able to not only speak to them, but touch them. You’ve probably heard this story because it’s so memorable:

According to The Chicago Herald and Examiner, a little boy tagged along after shoeless Joe Jackson’s grand jury testimony, tugged at Jackson’s sleeve and said “Say it ain’t so, Joe?”

The rhyming anecdote heard round the world.

But if Shoeless Joe had security, the little kid would have just been brushed to the side. Maybe that’s not the best look for the White Sox, depending on how hard security brushed him, but like, at least the interaction wouldn’t have been the perfect analogy for the White Sox ruining baseball’s innocence

Now it ends up that the Chicago Herald and Examiner reporter invented that whole story. But that wasn’t revealed until years later — after the damage was done. If the White Sox had hired security? Everyone would know that reporter was a liar right away. And maybe it would blunt the White Sox betrayal a bit if someone else in this story was a bad guy too. Maybe the 1919 populace would start to realize they’re a liiiiiiittle too naive all around?

The Black Sox Scandal didn’t have to be a scandal at all. If only I had been there to advise the team in 1919— oh wait no I can’t live without modern comforts like Netflix and food delivery and good couches and like those pre-written email responses gmail has now.

See you later!

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glittergummicandypeach · 4 years ago

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Catholic Bishops’ Theological Mistakes on Abortion Come at a High Price | Religion Dispatches

The facts do not seem to be in dispute: a man from Vitória, Espírito Santo, Brazil raped his ten-year-old niece. By the time her pregnancy was discovered, her local jurisdiction declared that she was four days over the limit and the fetus was scant grams over the weight permitted for an abortion. She was transported 1000 miles to Recife, Pernambuco where she had an abortion as allowed under the circumstances by Brazilian law.

In a decent, just world, the perpetrator of this morally reprehensible act of rape and incest would be tried, found guilty, and sent to prison for psychiatric help and personal rehabilitation. The child involved, who reported that her uncle had raped her repeatedly since she was six, would receive the medical treatment she needed, the psychological care she deserved, and the privacy to deal with it. Instead, the little girl was denied local medical attention on a technicality. She had to travel a great distance which meant that her pregnancy was further along by the time she actually had the abortion.

People gathered outside the hospital to express their views in favor of and against the procedure. An anti-abortion advocate, who had worked in President Bolsonaro’s Ministry of Women, Family and Human Rights, revealed the child’s name in the press. Her young life, already turned upside down, was turned inside out.

I observe this case from a distance. But it resonates with other such heinous examples of patriarchal thinking and doing that are common in the United States. The US is embroiled in deadly struggles because of systemic racism, a health crisis far beyond the magnitude of the virus in other developed countries because, like Brazil, the U.S. government’s response has been inadequate and absurd. Thirty million people are unemployed while the stock market is surging upward. So to hear Catholic religious leaders rail about abortion is to witness theological mistakes in the making.

Three years into the Trump government, anti-choice rhetoric is baptized and confirmed by religious sycophants like Timothy Cardinal Dolan. U.S. Catholic bishops pass over Trump’s egregious immigration policies, economic injustice to people made poor, and racist rhetoric simply because the President professes to be anti-abortion. This singular focus on the fetus makes bad situations like that of the little girl in Brazil much worse. I’ve seen these dynamics play out repeatedly, with Catholic bishops intervening to fuel the fires rather than acting like pastors. Their suitability for ministry is in deep question.

In the recent Brazilian case, Archbishop Walmor Oliveira de Azevedo Belo Horizonte, the president of National Conference of Bishops of Brazil (CNBB), opined: “Sexual violence is terrible, but the violence of the abortion is unjustifiable, considering all existing resources available to guarantee the lives of both children.” I beg to differ with him. Sexual violence and all that surrounds it is so terrible that abortion is not only justified, but to be recommended in this case despite whatever resources might be available for the child (singular) involved. A grievous crime is only made worse by the theological analysis and priorities that extend the suffering and give the wrong message about what’s at stake.

First, the primary ethical issue in this case isn’t abortion but sexual violence. It wasn’t a one-off thing, but, according to the child, the uncle sexually abused her for years. Where were the bishops then? The courts will decide guilt or innocence of the perpetrator, but the reality is that no ten-year-old should even know what sexual assault is, much less how long they’ve experienced it. What happened to her was evil.

Pregnancy at age 10, which is at least a year before many girls even begin to menstruate, is a biological and psychological event for which no child is prepared. There aren’t enough resources in the world to justify burdening a child with that experience. The issue at hand is the well-being of a child who’s in a physical and psychological state of extreme vulnerability. Focus on that child helps to prioritize what to do and why. Recourse to abstract concepts like “right to life,” “abortion on demand,” and “fetus is a person” skew the theological conversation away from the pastoral reality at hand and toward a patriarchal parochial norm that violates the pregnant woman once again.

To be clear, there is only one child abused in this case, not two as the bishops would have it. The fetus is simply not a child no matter how much the bishops wish that were the case. There is no consensus on when life begins, but there is consensus that children are to be nurtured not violated. A fetus is part of the reality here, but it is not a person and there is an important difference.

Second, contra the Archbishop and his fellows, abortion is more than justified in this instance. In fact, justification is not necessary, as ethicist Rebecca Todd Peters spells out clearly in her insightful book, Trust Women: A Progressive Christian Argument for Reproductive Justice. Women have been coerced into ‘justifying’ their reproductive choices for generations even when they’re raped. It’s the unpregnant Catholic bishops who need to justify having the nerve to do anything but support this child at her time of deep distress. Given that none of them will be involved in raising a child who would result from this crime, they have no right to proclaim what the person most deeply affected should do.

Now that the girl’s name is public, it would simply be a matter of time before the offspring would be known publicly, an unspeakable burden to impose on any child and family. No one can say with certainty when human life begins. But we can say with absolute certainty when humane treatment ends. Forcing a child to bring a pregnancy to term against her wishes and well-being is clearly inhumane.

The bishops are the ones who need to ‘justify’ what moral standing they have to express an opinion, what ecclesial authority they possess to try to make their way normative. If they were to update their moral theology, they would learn that in postmodernity, when women are full and free members of society, women must evaluate and choose responses not in a vacuum but in the ravages of patriarchy.

With a little study, the bishops would soon learn that abortion is viewed very differently when cast in contemporary scientific terms and in light of women’s oppression than when it’s seen in their medieval cosmology. A pregnancy is not a thing to be evaluated but a relationship to be respected in a family constellation of which bishops play no part. Poor, young women of color suffer abuse most often. There is no excuse to make it worse by ignoring the reality of women’s lives and the choices women make to survive.

The bishops could learn a lot from SisterSong, women of color who advance a reproductive justice approach. Reproductive justice means “the human right to maintain personal bodily autonomy, have children, not have children, and parent the children we have in safe and sustainable communities.” This would help the bishops understand that there are many good choices, including abortion, in hard situations.

Third, child abuse is another factor in this case. I refer to the physical abuse of the young girl by her uncle. But I also refer to the abuse that anti-abortion activists heaped on her by revealing her name. They added stress to her young self by protesting the choice she, with her family, made. Those people abused her, forcing a private decision to be made public, a self-defense survival strategy cast as criminal activity.

While these people act on their own, it is important to underscore that they’re informed and encouraged by Roman Catholic clergy who consider abortion the most important moral issue. The Brazilian bishops have a long history of this kind of rhetoric. But the U.S. bishops proclaimed abortion the “preeminent priority,” more important than economic injustice, racism, ecological disaster, war, and more. Such theological simplicity allows church officials to leave aside sexual violence, child abuse, racism, poverty, lack of healthcare and education, and so many other factors that go into a case like this. The bishops’ theology is missing an interstructured analysis which tough problems require. As a result, the bishops are complicit in the commission of grave mistakes. When governments and some in society take them seriously, their outdated approaches cost people dearly.

Finally, this tragic situation cannot be redeemed simply with analysis. Human care and compassion figure largely. Still, there are things we can learn going forward. One is that reproductive justice is a moral good. When further pain and suffering is avoided, when additional lives are spared devastating social stigmas, when men stop controlling women, justice accrues. When women are able to make choices that are best for themselves and their families, abortion and raising children are among the many ways women choose life.

Theological mistakes are costly. The Brazilian bishops’ words ring hollow. They’ve perpetuated the ideology that abortion is worse than sexual assault, that it can never be justified, and that resources to raise children somehow mitigate the tragedy. In the real world, where young girls are raped, families are left to cope with the aftermath including another child to care for, and when children are abused, a theology of mercy, compassion, and justice grounded in the complex analysis of real social problems is required.

A Portuguese version of this article was published by Católicas pelo Direito de Decidir (Catholics for Choice) in Brazil.

This content was originally published here.

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daresplaining · 7 years ago

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Do you think Matt is better suited as a prosecutor, or a defence attorney, as he seems to have been most of the time? Which, in your opinion, does he seem to prefer?

This actually doesn’t come up as much as you might think, so it’s hard to point to a specific panel and say “Hah! Yes, Matt prefers ____”. There’s also not a ton of consistency, and he will occasionally jump from defense to prosecution from one case to another without explanation. But his general trend is toward defense, and since that’s the type of law he’s practiced for most of his career, we can assume that’s what he’s most comfortable with. He hasn’t shown a particular talent for one over the other either. He’s a good lawyer no matter which side he’s on, but overall, he’d rather spend his professional life keeping innocents from going to jail than throwing bad guys in jail– which is part of the reason why he does the Daredevil thing in his off-hours. That way, he is able to balance out the occasional instance of defending people he knows are guilty. And that leads right into your other question, so we hope you don’t mind if we go ahead and answer that here too…

All the time. There’s a reason he’s been disbarred so many times. (Actually, there are two reasons, but we’ll leave the Kingpin out of this for now. The problem is mostly Matt.)

Judge: “Our issue is less with your sabotage of the Ogilvy case than with Nelson & Murdock’s now-disclosed history of ethics violations. Your past activities as a vigilante, as well as the questionable actions you and your partner have taken to preserve that identity, leave us no flexibility. With a heavy heart, this court hereby disbars Matthew M. Murdock and Franklin P. Nelson.”

Daredevil vol. 3 #36 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Javier Rodriguez

Matt is a moral guy but a very unethical lawyer, simply because he does operate on both sides of the law. Every single case he takes on is tainted in this way, because he nearly always uses his Daredevil identity and powers to gather evidence and determine guilt. At this late point in the Marvel universe (and with the exception of the period when the Superhero Registration Act was being enforced), being a vigilante doesn’t seem to be quite as illegal as it is in our world, simply because there have been so many dang superheroes around for so long. However, Matt is put on trial for vigilante activity– which we’ll be talking about later in the post– and it’s still a clear breach of legal protocol, and not what a lawyer should be doing. There’s also the factor of his powers, which he uses on a regular basis to give himself an edge, and on which he relies to an unwise degree. He hates defending guilty clients, and has gotten himself into trouble before by trying to determine guilt via heartbeat. All of this isn’t just a Matt problem, by the way– though it does tend to come up more with him than with other superhero lawyers. There’s a great issue of She-Hulk, for example, (She-Hulk (2004) #1, to be specific) where Jen loses a winning verdict because she saves the world while the trial is going on, and the judge rules that this biased the jury in her favor.

But Matt is the Unethical Lawyer poster child when it comes to this sort of thing, and this conflict has been a major theme in Daredevil comics, particularly within the last decade-or-so. With this in mind, we’re going to be providing just a few examples, rather than a comprehensive list of offenses.

The “Worlds Collide” story from volume 4 #15.1 focuses specifically on this dichotomy of legal work versus superhero work. Early in both his legal and… extralegal careers, Matt is assigned to defend a man who he apprehended as Daredevil. While spending his nights trying to ascertain whether his client is actually guilty, in court he is put in the position of arguing against the concept of superheroes.

Matt: “What are his motives? What does he want? I want to know who this man, this ‘Daredevil’– who is, essentially, accusing my client of murder– I want to know who he is. Other than a criminal. We know he’s at least guilty of assault… and, in the case of the defendant, involuntary imprisonment. Consider the facts… An unknown man in a disguise attacks someone… tackles him to the ground… and yet it’s the person who was assaulted who gets arrested? This isn’t justice. And it’s not how the justice system is supposed to work.”

Daredevil vol. 4 #15.1, “Worlds Collide” by Marc Guggenheim, Peter Krause, and Matt Wilson

Matt is fully aware of the irony of making this argument and yet continuing to try and determine his client’s guilt as Daredevil. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, and he cares deeply about his career as a lawyer. That’s an important point that we want to make clear. It’s not just a cover/source of intel for his secret life, as jobs occasionally are for superheroes– he genuinely loves being a lawyer and cares about the legal system. But even in this story, at this early point in his career, he feels justified in taking massive liberties with the law for the sake of ensuring that justice is actually done. He’s a self-assured enough person to believe that he knows best, and that his interventions as Daredevil are fair and necessary. That doesn’t mean they are– but that’s his mindset, and it always has been.

Matt: “A man murders. He leaves clues. He did it. He’s guilty. He’ll pay for the crime. Simple. That’s the beauty of justice. Daredevil tracks him, Matt Murdock makes him pay. Simple, gorgeous justice. When I’m poor, blind Matt Murdock, it’s easy to believe in the law, in the courts. Why is it, soon as I put on this suit– I feel that belief cracking? Doesn’t matter. Tonight will be different. I’ll reel the killer in, and the courts’ll get him locked up for life. Pure, beautiful justice.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #251 by Ann Nocenti, John Romita, Jr., and Christie Scheele

(By the way, this is a good example of what we were referring to in response to your first question. Matt is thinking like a prosecutor here.)

To explain his willingness to cross these lines– if not to necessarily justify it– we need to look back at his origin story. A key part of his decision to become Daredevil in the first places was the fact that his father’s killers didn’t go to jail for their crime– and I’m partial to renditions of his origin that make clear that he only goes after the Fixer and friends himself after they’ve been put on trial.

Matt: “We did it all by the book. The police weren’t surprised that Sweeney and Slade were involved and it wasn’t long before they were arrested. But, on the day of the bail hearing, suddenly, they had some Park Avenue attorney. His hair gel cost more than what Foggy and I were wearing.”

Daredevil: Yellow #1 by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale

He sees justice fail, and so steps in to pick up the slack. Whether this was a good move on his part is up for debate. He unintentionally causes the Fixer to die of a heart attack long before he has a chance to go to jail, for instance, which is a moral issue all on its own. But with this inciting, highly personal incident always in the back of his mind, and as his legal career continues to show him the gaps and weaknesses in the system, he feels continually justified in filling in the cracks with his own brand of crimefighting.

But credit where credit is due– right now, at this very moment in the current run (spoiler alert!), Matt is taking steps to address this issue. He and the D.A.’s office are attempting to set precedent for allowing superheroes to legally contribute their skills and testimony to criminal investigations, without being forced to reveal their identities.

Matt: “Slug’s gang escaped, but we got him, and I picked up plenty of evidence with my super-senses. If the judge lets me testify, I can put him away, and maybe get him to turn over on his crew. It is legal. I’m sure of it. And if I can pull this off… if I can testify without taking off my mask, then we all can. Any secret identity hero. Spider-Man… even Blindspot. […] It could change everything. Our powers let us gather evidence the cops just can’t. If we can present it in court, legally… no more tying up bad guys, leaving them for the police and praying the system can get a conviction. We can be part of the process from start to finish.”

Daredevil vol. 5 #22 by Charles Soule, Goran Sudzuka, and Matt Milla

This still doesn’t seem to address the fact that Matt is both a superhero and a lawyer, and is still free and willing to interfere in questionable ways in his own cases with no oversight– but hey, it’s still a big deal.

Generally, the instances of Matt behaving unethically that are emphasized within the narrative specially for being unethical, involve Matt trying to protect his life as Daredevil. His identity has been leaked to the press twice. The first time, fortunately, the journalist was discredited before the story got too far or Matt had to make any big moves. But the second time, when his secret identity is printed on the front page of the Daily Globe (not to be confused with the Daily Bugle) during Bendis’s run, he is forced to choose between accepting the charges or lying, both in public and in court. He opts for lying (with Foggy’s full-if-uncomfortable support), and the two of them even go so far as to sue the Globe for libel.

Foggy: “Working either side of the law? This means Matt Murdock defrauded the American justice system by faking a trial against Daredevil. And that’s just the most recent example. Matt– you can’t. You can’t come clean. You can’t come out. First? You’ll get disbarred. And then… then you go to jail. You know I’m right, pal. So the thing we do? We fight this. […] We get up on the highest tree and we scream: liars! We sue everyone in sight until their heads spin off their bodies.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #33 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

When he is put on trial for operating as a vigilante, Matt contemplates fighting his way out of the courtroom and just running away, before deciding to plead not guilty. He does, notably, feel bad about all this later, and reflects on it in volume 3 #36 when he finally decides to out himself as Daredevil. But that certainly hasn’t stopped him from lying and playing with the law since.

Arguably the most egregious– and certainly the most memorable– example of Matt’s shaky legal ethics (which Foggy references in the excerpt above) is the “Playing to the Camera” arc (DD vol. 2 #20-25). This plotline centers around Matt and Foggy getting hired to sue Daredevil, allegedly for causing some major property damage. Matt knows he didn’t do it, and is affronted that his honor is being impinged by some troublemaker pretending to be Daredevil. Despite the obvious immorality such a thing would involve, and Foggy’s protestations, Matt takes the case to keep control of it and prevent other lawyers from snooping around in Daredevil’s business.

Matt: “Foggy, if we don’t take the case, Griggs’ll keep at it until he finds someone who will. Like Claude Unger. And the last thing Daredevil needs is Claude Unger poking around in his life.”

Foggy: “We can’t do it, Matt! It’s insane! To say nothing of the ethics! Allowing yourself to be hired to sue yourself– it’s illegal! You could be disbarred!”

Matt: “It’ll die on the vine. Remember, the case has no merit. Once we investigate and I find this imposter, it falls apart, end of story. It’ll be over inside of a week.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #20 by Bob Gale, Phil Winslade, James Hodgkins, et al.

Surprise– it’s not over inside of a week, and it does go to court, and Matt finds himself in the position of having to sue himself. He manages to be in two places at once by convincing Peter Parker to pretend to be Daredevil, going behind his (DD’s) lawyer’s back in the process. It’s a hilarious, utterly unethical mess– and one Matt is perfectly willing to undertake for the sake of protecting his identity.

In short: lawbreaking is inherent in the superhero genre, and Matt’s position as a lawyer and devotion to the proper functioning of the justice system in no way prevents him from bending legal ethics to their absolute limit.

#queenmorganlafay #Daredevil #Matt Murdock #Foggy Nelson #Asks #Commentary

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