#but before that he was always partners with Rorschach because

[gaycrouton]

Oversized Scrubs

season three | slight hurt/comfort | protective mulder | 1.8k | ao3

Black lace. A pink bow. Some sheer thing that haunted his dreams. He never meant to see any of it, he looked away as soon as his brain caught up to his eyes. It just sometimes took longer than he was proud of because of the southern redirection of his blood flow.

It was just something he’d gotten used to over the past few years of working with her. If Scully was doing an autopsy, chances were, he’d accidentally get a clear shot down her shirt.

The first time it happened, he almost couldn’t believe his eyes. It was like his mind was treating the creamy, pale expanse of Scully’s torso like a Rorschach test. Scully’s clothes were usually baggier, at least her suit jackets were, but for some reason, more often than not, the small woman wore scrubs that were several sizes too large for her frame. This meant the neckline would fall away from her torso if she bent down even slightly, and since he towered over her, he was always in the line of sight.

Mulder never said anything because it felt inappropriate to bring up. He knew the autopsies physically took a toll on her without making her feel like she needed to modify her posture so her pervy partner would stop looking at her breasts.

Only, that was just it. While he’d have the decency to look away, he’d often turn his head to find the local medical examiners making a similar discovery before suddenly paying a lot more attention to her than they previously had been.

Sometimes they smirked at him like getting a free peek at the unsuspecting medical doctor was an inside joke, and it made his blood boil. 

Much like it was right now.

He didn’t particularly like Officer Gonzalez to begin with, the man seemingly couldn’t differentiate confidence and arrogance and made it everyone else’s problem. Mulder hadn’t expected him to come to the autopsy bay, but apparently, the man wanted to treat the victim’s body like a carnival attraction. Mulder hadn’t been paying attention to what he was saying, but he noticed when the constant hum of the background noise came to a halt. 

When he glanced over to see if Gonzalez had left, he saw a sleazy grin had been what sealed his mouth shut. The man looked like he was trying to raise himself up on the balls of his feet, and it became painfully obvious to Mulder why that was when he glanced at Scully who was currently bent over the body as she collected debris samples.

Deep purple satin.

He immediately pulled his attention up towards her face and saw she was completely none-the-wiser to the fact Gonzalez was treating her job proficiency like a strip tease.

“I thought you were going to canvas the area for more bodies?” Mulder stated firmly, stepping in front of the officer to effectively block Scully from his line of sight.

Gonzalez smirked at him, and Mulder knew he was only chagrined because he thought he’d stepped on Mulder’s toes. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he replied, the real meaning of his words causing Mulder’s jaw to clench.

He stood there for a minute until he couldn’t hear the departing officer’s footsteps, but the sound of Scully’s murmured voice caused him to turn back around. “I thought he’d never leave.”

She was still hunched over, and he was still avoiding looking at the valley of her torso. A familiar weight settled uncomfortably in his chest, and he felt like a prick for not mentioning it to her sooner. Over three years of working together, there had to have been at least a couple dozen people who had leered at her without her knowing because he was too chickenshit to say anything.

“Hey Scully,” he stated, walking towards the other side of the table.

“Hm?” she hummed in reply. She glanced up when he didn’t answer, and, upon seeing the look on his face, stood up straight. “What’s wrong?”

“Um,” he sighed, stopping when he caught sight of the tape recorder hanging down from the ceiling between them. “Could you turn that thing off for a second?” he asked, gesturing to the tape recorder.

She gave him a look, but complied nonetheless. “Is something wrong?”

“Well,” he paused. Knowing he had to have this conversation didn’t help him when it came to figuring out what to say. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way.”

She cocked an eyebrow and continued to stare him down. “Then say what you mean.”

“Why are your scrubs always so big on you?” he asked.

“Because most of the places we go only have scrubs for men,” she replied, compiling his guilt. “Why do you ask?”

He bit his cheek and rubbed his chin. “I just wanted to let you know that… sometimes, when you bend over… it’s easy to see down your shirt.”

There was a moment of silence that made his balls rescind into his body in fear. “I wasn’t trying to look, it’s just-“

“I’m constantly bent over during an autopsy,” she finished flatly.

“I just thought you might want to know,” he replied, looking towards the door where Gonzalez had just exited.

When he turned around, he saw her attention had followed his and her eyes snapped back with a look of understanding. “Is that why you, in so many words, told him to get lost?”

“I also thought his cologne smelled bad,” he joked lamely. Scully looked down at herself, as if really assessing her scrubs for the first time. The collar of the shirt was so big that it effortlessly exposed her collarbones; no matter how she shifted or adjusted, the shirt dwarfed her. His gaze flickered down and he noticed a small protrusion on her hip and the way her pants legs were rolled up a few times. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having a hard time getting scrubs in your size? I could have told the morgues to have some ready for you before we fly out,” he asked.

“Mulder, you know most of the autopsies I do are spur of the moment,” she sighed. “And while that’s a sweet gesture, I already have to deal with their surprise at seeing a female pathologist. I don’t want to deal with their frustration at being requested to accommodate me.”

“I could always-“

“Is it really that bad?” she interrupted with a frown, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I’m just tall, so, uh, yeah,” he stammered awkwardly. “You don’t even have to bend over very far for it to gape.” 

Her lips pursed to one corner of her mouth as she let her head fall back in defeat. “Did someone say something to you?” she asked, her tone pitching up slightly like it did on the rare occasion she got embarrassed.

That wasn’t what he’d meant to do, and the guilty knot of pressure in his chest was beginning to creep up his throat. It was now obvious to him the large scrubs were a subtle sign she wasn’t invited into the space she had a right to, that it already was uncomfortable for her, and now he’d gone and made her self-conscious.

“I’ve caught a few guys staring,” he admitted softly. “I should’ve mentioned it earlier, I just,” he paused, taking a deep breath before exhaling, “so much time has passed that I didn’t want you to think I hadn’t said anything because I was ogling you.”

“You weren’t?” she asked. The soft inflection of her question made his eyes widen before he saw the smirk on her face. 

“You already have one potential sexual harassment complaint you could file against me from when you found all those videos in the cabinet,” he teased back.

“I would never file a complaint for that. You were just being such a good friend for holding onto Frohike’s collection for him,” she deadpanned.

Mulder openly chuckled at that, and Scully looked pretty proud of herself for it. He was relieved they were able to diffuse the tension with humor, but he knew he’d unleashed something that was bound to continue to be a problem. 

He was about to say something when he saw Scully lift the bottom of her shirt up. The action revealed to him that the drawstring of the pants was effectively useless; instead, Scully had taken a hair tie and cinched the waistband herself. He watched as she deftly removed the drawstring from the scrubs and re-cinched the waist before letting the hem of the shirt fall back down.

Scully then took the string and tied it around her waist like an apron, adjusting the fabric as needed. “How very MacGyver of you,” he teased.

She offered him a small smile before clearing her throat. Then, looking at him with the utmost expression of professionalism, she said, “I’m going to resume working now. Will you tell me if it’s bad?”

“Are you giving me permission to look down your shirt?” he asked playfully.

“One-time offer.”

Scully bent over, only this time glancing up at him as if to check if he was looking. There was an eroticism to the action he hadn’t expected and it made his breath catch in his throat. “Well?” She asked, her voice deeper from craning her neck up.

Mulder let his eyes flicker downward and was met with the sight of her collarbones peeing over the collar of her shirt. “Leer-proof,” he replied.

“Good,” she nodded, flicking the tape recorder back on and signaling the end of the conversation.

He stuck around for a while, waiting to see if she found anything notable from the external exam before deciding to take his leave. There were a few family members he needed to interview, and he still felt a little grossed out seeing the organ removal process.

Mulder let her know where he was going, but he was stopped right when he got to the door. 

“Mulder,” she called out softly, making him turn around to look at her.

“Yeah?”

He watched a sly smile spread on her lips as she continued working on the body. “Your fly’s down.”

---------------

*I promise I haven't abandoned any of my other works. I've taken a vow not to join any exchanges until I'm caught up with everything. Grad school, serotonin deprivation, and no free time just go hand-in-hand. I was typing this on my phone to be a note for later, and it just ended up writing itself so I figured I'd post it here as a little thing. Again, promise I will be updating my other WIPs as soon as I can.

[excellentblurrecognition]

zach snyder isn't a fascist in the way that he has no idea what fascism is and seems to truly believe that you don't need a greater political understanding than "respect and be nice to each other :)." HOWEVER this also means that when he is faced with fascism in a narrative that he didn't write, he doesn't know what he is looking at and mostly just sees another muscle-bound superhero power fantasy. so he ends up uncritically glorifying fascists and fascism more than anyone would like.

for example, his treatment of rorschach in his watchmen adaptation. rorschach is a fascist. openly and unapologetically. he sees every problem in society as a downstream result of moral and social degeneracy. he is biased, not to be trusted. everything he tells us is warped and we are supposed to be aware of that, we are supposed to be using the information he provides while ignoring his conclusions. because he is a Bad Guy. he is a Bad Guy. every single one of the 'heroes' in watchmen is a very bad guy. the entire point of watchmen is the corruptive force of power.

but our beloved zach snyder needs a good guy to fight the bad guy and loves action heroes and superpowers and when it came time to pick a villain in his adaptation, the actual fascist had less material power than wealthy, intelligent ozymandias.

now keep up with me. every single one of the powered 'superhero' people in watchmen is a fucked up bad guy. the worse guys by impact are the ones who hold more material power. so yes, rorschach writing his fascist dreams in his journal is less bad than ozymandias trying to nuke the whole world to force humanity to unite against a single enemy and stop killing each other. rorshach is absolutely a foil to ozymandias (social v antisocial, grand aims/global importance v petty hatreds/anonymous agoraphobe, etc), but THAT DOES NOT MAKE RORSCHACH GOOD. that does not make the fascist an uncomplicated good guy that the reader is supposed to identify with. he is still absolutely 100% a direct and unapologetic fascist who wants to wants to sterilize poor single mothers.

so how did it happen? how did rorschach turn into watchmen's hero? why was my partner (a huge fan of snyder's watchmen adaptation) shocked to find out that rorschach sucks and is supposed to suck?

because snyder is a very nice person who is also kind of politically illiterate. he has a habit of thinking very shallowly about the underlying logic of the narratives he adapts. his process of adaptation is seemingly motivated almost purely by nostalgia, recreating the joy and engagement he felt as a teenager reading the comic for the first time. a teenager who did not have the experience or education to pick up on the work's themes and political discourses. so you know what generally isn't there? thematic and political comprehension. to be honest, i've always found it unfortunate that his relationship to these works doesn't seem to have developed at all with age and experience. they're dead stories, relegated to the past and flattened into a trigger for the simplistic joy of childhood ignorance. interaction with the story is not to understand it or wrestle with its meaning but to tap back into the mindstate of his teenage self.

before we continue: i'm being a bit mean so break time to remind ourselves that when snyder regained control of the justice league movie, he went very far out of his way to put respect back on Ray Fisher's name, expand his role and make him the "heart of the film," and pointedly make a very public series of actions that denounced joss whedon and his racism more completely and effectively than words ever could. he is a good person. when push comes to shove, he behaves in real life with respect and kindness to the people he interacts with.

incidentally, this is why he has such a loyal and dedicated fanbase, and why they react so violently to any criticism of him or them. nostalgia psychologically serves as your mechanism for affirming identity continuity. like. if you move, the culture is different, expectations of you are different, and how you are interpreted is consistently different, your brain freaks the fuck out because identity is a social construction formed by negotiation between you internally and your social context externally. if your social context changes, it's HARD to keep a consistent concept of your identity, which sends your brain haywire. so it gives you nostalgic memories, it says 'no. i am who i say i am and i have proof. here it is." when his works or his interpretation of adapted works are criticized, it's an attack on their identity, on their perception of and relationship to formative memories and how those formative memories are used to salve social discomfort in the present.

so now he's finally not adapting, he's making his own ip. and it's a weird sort of half-adaptation of star wars, which is, like watchmen, a very political narrative. and i'm very curious about how it's going to go. theoretically, there is no intense nostalgia warping his vision. it's a new ip. but we can't deny that part of the reason rebel moon exists is because the new star wars movies sucked so much and snyder and his fans want a good reboot of some kind. there's still that nugget there, of trying to recreate the emotional experience and engagement of the first time reading/watching a nostalgic story, not necessarily to create a good, new story.

so i have a feeling rebel moon is going to be extremely forgettable and unchallenging. a nostalgia soup of old star wars combined with simple unexplored political virtue signals that have little to no deeper storytelling elements or worldbuilding to reinforce them.

[popculturebuffet]

Watchmen Issue By Issue Retrospective: “The Judge of All The Earth”

Hello all you happy people and once again time’s up, times here for the Watchmen, courtesy as always of @weirdkev27​ whose monthly patreon sponsored reviews have made this retrospective possible If you have something you want me to look at every month or just some fun one offs yourself consider joining my patreon here. 5 bucks a month gets you a review, a vote when I do my monthly polls, and other fun stuff.

Previously on Watchmen:

As it turns out the Comedian somehow slighted everyone related to both to the Minutemen and the almost team the Crimebusters. Neither were named the Watchmen because shut up, filling in the world while aslo filling us in on just how much no one would miss the attempted rapist and pregnant mother of his own child murderer, while also setting up important things for this issue: Dr. Manhattan’s slowly growing detatchment from humanity and one of his old foes having cancer. We also found out whatever’s going on is big and horrifying that again the guy who shot an unborn child for kicks was terrified by it. So join me under the cut as we pick up from there as things only get worse for our heroes and for the judge of all the earth.  Content Warning: Violence and Sexual Assault will be discussed due to the material being reviewed. 

We open with a black teenager reading a pirate comic next to a surly newstand owner ranting about how comics changed, how real life capes killed the superhero genre, about how we should nuke the reds. Standard “okay grandpa” stuff. I do find it a neat shift though that here superhero comics never got the second wind they did in real life after WWII, but died out. 

The comic, Tales of the Black Freighter, was, like the various fictional book excerpts, added to pad out the comic while still enriching it, a story that parallels our main villians and his fears as a captain and the sole survivior of a ship wreck deals with isolation and corpses. Originally I just skimmed these bits.. and that was dumb as their still thoughly enjoyable and in my teenage idiocy, I was so focused on getting through the plot I didn’t stop to consider this extra stuff was vital to flavoring said plot. 

Anyways the creepy redhead man who we later learn is rorschach scares the crap out of the guy as we cut to laurie in bed with Jon, who decide she has time enough before his confrence for a quickie... and to make this a three way as he decides to use TWO of himself which freaks her out. What I like is how Moore treats this: she’s RIGHT to be freaked out as he didn’t ask her first and her consent is king. While it’d be a fun treat if he showed he was cloning himself across two bodies, without her knowing it’s instead a terrifying invasion and he rightfully stops the moment she starts acting in terror. Given HOW LONG it took media to get consent right, I give moore credit here. 

Laurie is willing to forgive though since it was a well meaning if still creepy mistake.. until she finds out Jon WASN’T EVEN IN THE ROOM, using two of his clones to stimulate her while he worked and got ready for his interview. It’s hugely unsettling too: the idea of making love to your partner only to find out he wasn’t even in the room, that he cared so little for your consent that taking care of your needs and pleasing you was just a box to check off while he did “more important things” it’s immensely creepy and Laurie’s walking out is understandable... while Jon is so detached he barely registers it.

And as she leaves we see contrasting shots of Jeanny Slater, Jon’s ex... and from her dialouge it’s easy to wager she ALSO has cancer, as she’s taken up smoking again simply because it no longer matters. And she’s talking to some paper called nova express, whose gathering a story on Jon... I see this ending ENTIRELY well for him and the world in general. 

So Laurie naturally runs to quite literally the only friend she has.. Dan. Dan’s getting a new lock because he’s the only friend Rorshach has EVER had and he’d like this cycle to stop at some point. Also nice little mythological nod, the locksmith being from “Gordanian Knot” lock co..and one that if spotted you can probably guess how well this works out. Then again Dan Dreiberg, mechanical whiz who built himself a fucking flying ship and gadgets.. can’t be bothered to create an alarm system so this is more on him. Or on doors. They are the greatest foe of Vox Machina for a reason after all. 

Either way Laurie needs a shoulder to turn to and very transparently having a crush on Laurie, and even if he didn’t being a generally decent man, with Laurie admitting she just thinks Jon sees her as a collection of Atoms. 

So thus our big climax for the issue is two parallel stories and in a way so brilliant yet subtle I only noticed while doing this review: the dan and laurie half is in heavy red and yellow contrasts, while the Manhattan half is in mostly full colors but with a lot of purple and of course Manhattan’s  blue (which is darker in this scene due to him darkening it for television). This allows a clear division between both stories besides content, contrasting colors without hurting the eyes or drawing too much attention to itself. The most clever trick though is that one panel is always bigger than the other and every page in this one has the same structure: jon’s side has one small panel, one double panel and one small panel, and lauries has double, small double. It also shows gibbons is ALWAYS working in the comics trademark 9 panel framework, something I never considered, simply expanding panels when needed but still keepign the same layout. While I always appricated Moore’s work on the book and always thought Gibbons was talented this readthrough has given me such an apprication for just how heavily thought out Gibbons work here is. How EVERY panel is placed perfectly, every gesture has a reason. I feel it’s gibbons why we’ve had artists like mike allred, jamie mckelvie and david aja since who truly use the panel as the canvas it waas always meant to be. 

Dan and Laurie’s story is the easiest to cover so we’ll tackle that first. The two take a walk to Hollis.. but get accosted by muggers. Even with Dan out of shape and both likely long out of practice.. they still EASILY kick their asses and it’s glorious to watch.  They also pant heavily afterwords.. and two thigns are clear: one that felt amazing and two..

So they awkwardly part glances then ways since Laurie’s tired enough for one night.. and clearly trying to ignore how she feels about dan as she’s still sorting the rubble of her previous relatoinship. 

As for Jon his night goes even worse as has been building: the guy from Nova ambushes him at what’s supposed to be a palid, crowd pleasing press interview to say ther’es nothing going on in afganhistan for him to intervene on, usual goverment dribble... but is noticably affected as the pieces come together: his former assitant/jimmy olson, jeany, moloch.. they all have cancer.. and he’s the common thread. And despite his detachment... this CLEARLY rattles the guy, not wanting to answer questions not for the usual reasons but because this is a genine shock. and the crowd MOBBING the guy instead of letting him leave and process this.. goes about as well as you’d expect. (Rearranged the panels for this just as a heads up.. and for convience)

He simply teleported them.. but the sheer weight of everything is a lot. But it says a lot to Hollis’s character, as he tells dan the bad news, that despite Jon being so powerful.. he’s not afraid for himself or anyone in the audience.. but Jon. 

We then get an absolutley GORGEOUS sequences as Jon announces to his minders, who were planning to quarnitine him, that since he dosne’t seem fit for humanity anymore, he’s going to the last place untouched by captalism. 

And he’s going now after a brief stop in arizona to pick up an old photo of Jeanie.. and himself before he transformed, bidding one last look to the sky... as he goes away in a massive flash of light, a truly haunting sequence.

And the next day the news has hit.. and the implications are clear. The cold war was as hot as it was in the real world... but here they had manhattan as a living nuclear deterrent. Now he’s gone, things are bad and the once mouthy newsman.. is now shaken to his core and gives the kid at his stand the comic... figuring there’s not much time left. 

Laurie faces bad news as she finds her room being scrubbed by men in hazmat suits, and the agent basically blaming her for it, asking if she put him under stress.. and while he’s right america’s nuclear deterrient being gone is VERY bad..... she’s not at fault, and it shoudln’t be her , or anyones fucking job to be someone sole emotoinal support. Especially a walking bomb. if you were geninely concerned about this, you should’ve gotten him a friend AND laid. But you only gave him one person so when he finally emotonally collapsed he had no one to help him. 

Dan also gets the bad news his lock was broken by who.. but unlike last time where he was a condescnding ass about dan quitting.. this time Shack Attack seems geinely concerned.. as much as a human facebook post from my uncle chuck can be anyway. His theory their after heroes is no longer that... and Dan isn’t safe. 

And the ending is as this issue has been potetic and striking... Jon arriving at the beauty and wonder of mars and for the first time in three issues.. smiling.. before frowning at his old photo. All this contrasted with President Nixon and his men in the war room seeing that an attack would at BEST take out the east coast, and that a “quirk of the wind” could doom them all and giving it only a week to think.. and the country possibly only one week to live. This ending hit harder for obvious reasons: with the ongoing invasion by russia and putin trying to use the nuke as a bludgeon to prevent other countries from doing more than sanctions and slowly draining his people’s economy and freedoms while trying to destroy an innocent country. I.. I wish.. I honestly wish things had gotten better and this story was no longer relevant. But until people get better and until madmen like putin stop existing.. that simply will never happen and it always will be. Thank you for reading. 

A current ongoing games bundle to help the ukraine. 

[aguagua]

here. have a Chunk of a danror thing I was doing because im stumped on writing dialogue for the second half. started just typing this in my notes when I was sick.

its about the comfort of a bacon egg and cheese sandwich but I didn’t even GET to the bacon egg and cheese sandwich part. so it’s also about post keene, like maybe a year after, Ror and Dan lol. I’m not good at writing so be nice to me. enjoy

Patrol drove into later hours than anticipated. Certain gangs needed handling. Certain people needed apprehending. Rorschach’s lost track of time more often than he wants to admit. Time isn’t that important to him anymore, and who wouldn’t put off the time that came to tear off his face and put on a disguise for the day? But, the nite hours give Rorschach the blanket of protection he needs to operate and exact the justice this city so desperately needs. The daylight seems to frighten a specific type of evil back into whatever holes they crawled out of for the evening. But Rorschach will soon be vulnerable to the curiosity from crowds of 9 to 5’ers making their morning commute. He needs to get away from prying eyes. Normally he’d take to the sewers, climb down the nearest manhole, but, the gash on his leg needs serious tending. Unfortunately, he can’t risk getting an infection, not when the responsibility of protecting New York has now fallen solely on Rorschach’s shoulders. Not a single costumed hero is left to care for this dying community. His kind is, in fact, a dying breed.

Canal Street, where his apartment is, too far. The alley he normally leaves his things, too exposed. Time was short as the sun lazily climbed up into the sky, soon it would be a spotlight all on Rorschach. He’s in Bryant Park now. Which means the brownstone is only a few streets away and Daniel isn’t normally awake yet. Rorschach can go down to the basement, fix himself up, and eat a bowl of cereal before Daniel would ever notice. Smart idea. He’ll be safe there. The vigilante begins his trek, limping slightly but he distracts himself from the pain he feels in his calf by digging his fingers into his palm.

************

Daniel and Rorschach have not spoken to each other since the night after the Keene Act was passed. When Daniel decided to quit. Maybe it was better that way. No words needed to be shared anymore. What would even be said? Some poor attempt at reminiscing about the good old days? Good old days that Daniel chose to end? Or maybe it would be some long lecture about how Rorschach should hang up the mask. “There’s still a chance to get out.” A lecture that would sound more like a desperate plea. Ridiculous.

Through their lack of conversation, raised an unspoken agreement. It’s an uncomfortable thought to Rorschach, to know someone is thinking of him. That Daniel still has his concerns and wants Rorschach to be safe. That he cares.

When Rorschach sneaks in through the kitchen window (He’ll save Daniel the humiliation of breaking his lock again. Ha ha.) and makes his way down to the Owl Nest, he finds just some of the terms of their agreements. Replenished first aid with plenty to spare, just begging Rorschach to take them with him. The cot, back by the super computers, with fresh sheets. Always fresh. Rorschach has rested his head there more than a few times.

And Rorschach knows when he goes upstairs to eat, he’ll find the surplus of canned foods he knows Daniel did not buy for himself. The leftovers in the fridge that are tucked in the fridge, in kitschy owl casserole dishes. The cherries that Daniel does not like eating. The sugary cereal. The occasional cola. Any and all of the foods in the Rorschach diet.

Rorschach initially thought this was a method for Daniel to catch Rorschach and sit him down for a long lecture, that all this stepping out of the way had an ulterior motive, it was bait. But, he’s heard a handful of times when Daniel was awake and about upstairs and he never came down the Owl Nest steps. He never hustled into the kitchen when Rorschach was there, scarfing down cold, canned soup. Rorschach would come here and take care of himself, with food, medical supplies, and rest that Daniel provided and will always provide. Daniel respected their silent agreement and Rorschach’s space. Perhaps, Daniel, too, didn’t know how they could hold a conversation. Maybe he felt conversation was worthless but still felt the need to provide his ex partner some kind of reparation for leaving. Maybe Rorschach scared him now. All avenues made sense.

He wishes Daniel would see him. No he didn’t. Yes he did. No he didn’t.

*******

Rorschach grabbed the first aid kit, took his place on the cot, rolled up his torn pant leg (will have to repair later) and went to work. In a skirmish with one too many Knot Tops, one of the few that remained standing managed to knock Rorschach down and dig into his calf with a knife. The perpetrator didn’t succeed in incapacitating Rorschach, to say the very least.

Rorschach bit his lip to hold back a hiss as he cleaned the injury with antiseptic. Such an outward expression of pain is a weakness (it’s human) and Rorschach isn’t weak (or human).

It frustrated Rorschach to no end that he had Walter’s limitations. He couldn’t just brush off an injury, ignore the hunger pains, stave off sleeping, at least not for so long. He always pushes his body to its absolute limits. But, avoidance to these Human needs (Walter’s needs) would lead to burn out, poor performance and he can’t allow that.

So, Rorschach properly cleans and stitches the cut, with a nice tight stitching. He sits back on the cot, letting the pain dully throb in his leg while he stares out at the Nest.

A layer of dust covered everything except Rorschach’s small corner. Archie was covered in a large tarp. A whole world was down here, locked away, covered up and left to rot. Rorschach could replay dozens of memories in this space, in every little corner. The back of the workshop where Daniel broke his arm in the exo armor. The workbench, where they sat and shared colas, strategizing for their takedown of King of Skin. By Nite Owl’s locker where Daniel found a rat chewing at his uniform and Rorschach chased it down the tunnel. Beside Archie, after taking down the Big Figure, celebrating a little too closely of each other. On the steps where Nite Owl revealed himself to be Daniel Dreiberg and opened the door to share his private life with Rorschach.

How was it so easy for Daniel to close out this part of his identity? Easy, maybe, considering Daniel had the privilege to turn away. He had another life. Rorschach did not.

Best to not harp on the past, he thinks. Rorschach permits himself a pause. Lets the thoughts stop racing, a period to sit in the silence, and rest his eyes.

The quiet is cut short by the sound of footsteps upstairs. Daniel’s awake early. Why? He’s never been an early riser. Rorschach walked over to the stairs, listened close to the footsteps. Sounds like he’s still on the second floor. Rorschach could take his chances, grabbing some canned food and run back down to the tunnel. No. Not a smart move. Will be caught. The footsteps are down in the kitchen now. Something is placed down on the table. Cabinets are being opened. The fridge. It’s time to leave.

But he doesn’t want to. Yes, he does. No, he doesn’t.

Maybe the pain and exhaustion loosened Rorschach’s restraint, could be the excuse he tells himself later. Body betraying his usual code, Rorschach walks up the steps and opens the door.

*****

“Rorschach?”

[valdomarx]

hi! i was wondering, what are your thoughts on geralt and jaskiers characters in the tv show? also i sincerely cant tell what the writers were going for with their relaltonship in the last episodes (umh you know. jaskiers "we shuould go to the coast")

if we start by comparing geralt and jaskier/dandelion’s characters in the books and games (with the caveat that my knowledge of the books is patchy):

geralt and dandelion have a pretty straight forward, fond relationship. geralt has no problem telling anyone who will listen that dandelion is his friend. he talks about him often when he’s not around (it’s cute). even though dandelion is frankly pretty useless, geralt adores him anyway because he appreciates his loyalty. their relationship is in many ways not very complex because they just like each other and look out for each other as close friends do. they rarely argue.

dandelion would undoubtedly be a great romantic partner for geralt, so i can see why people like geralt/dandelion. and i can also see why many of these people are pissed at the way their relationship was handled in the netflix show.

because netflix geralt and jaskier are fundamentally messy. if you look at jaskier, i would argue it’s demonstrated in the show (although never stated explicitly) that he’s in love with geralt. there are the longing glances, the song he wrote about it, the way he delivers his lines (and, going by joey’s comments about how jaskier isn’t a womanizer he just falls in love with whatever person he’s around, i’m pretty sure he’s played that way deliberately). it’s very clear, very loud pining if you’re paying attention to jaskier’s relatively few scenes.

but netflix geralt is, bless him, a goddamn mess. he can’t articulate his feelings, he’d die before admitting that he needs anyone else, and he’s so full of self-loathing it makes it difficult for him to make connections with those around him. he communicates very little verbally, and even his body language and facial expressions are extremely controlled.

so there’s one interpretation that says: geralt doesn’t like jaskier. he’s an annoyance at best and a hindrance at worst. all he ever does is get in the way and badger geralt when he wants to be left alone. geralt might feel some guilt if jaskier gets hurt because of him, but no more than he’d feel for any stranger. jaskier is laughable for ever thinking that geralt could care for him.

but there’s another interpretation that says: geralt can’t say what he wants with words but he says it with actions. he gripes and teases jaskier but he always, always lets him join on his travels. he could gallop away from him in an instant if he wanted, but he never does because despite his grumbling, he loves having jaskier around. jaskier’s songs have done more to improve his quality of life than anything else in decades. and more than that, jaskier offers a warmth and a care with no expectation of return. geralt loves that wholeheartedly, and when he chooses to push jaskier away, it’s because he’s distraught at the idea of him being hurt, because jaskier deserves so much better.

and this is why i think fandom has latched onto geralt/jaskier so tightly. because there’s this fascinating ambiguity - does geralt love jaskier back or does he not care at all? - that begs to be explored in fic and art and meta. geralt’s expressions are so pared down that they’re open to a number of interpretations, so trying to understand his motivations is like taking a rorschach test about your view of relationships. and that ambiguity is what leaves people feeling that they want more, hence the abundance of fanworks focused on this version of the characters specifically.

[phlebiac]

🍒🍊🍋

🍒 : how much does violator value companionship? does he constantly keep people around him, or does he prefer to be alone often? does he have or desire to have many friends? does he see every meeting as an opportunity to make a new friend?

   though he loathes to admit it, vi values companionship more than he lets on. he helped raise four younger brothers and spent most of his time with them, so when he was tossed into the human world all by his lonesome, he had a pretty rough time adjusting. luckily for vi, he stumbled upon his now long-time companion lucey ashton, who took pity on his situation and adopted him into her friend group. since then, violator's mainly stuck by lucey and company, as they understand his quirks ( see: difficult personality ) better than most and worked tirelessly to earn his trust. since then, violator has additionally befriended rorschach, detectives sam burke and twitch williams, and wanda blake.

   he has a nasty habit of self-isolation due to his reluctance to open up to and depend on others, but that doesn't mean he likes being alone; ideally, he's situated at lucey's side, or rorschach's, if not both at the same time. vi is charismatic and silver-tongued - he knows how to talk to people and get them on his side, but is very reluctant to show any emotional vulnerability in front of those he hasn't known for a long time. ( or... you know, those he has. ) though he enjoys having friends, the walls he puts up around himself make them hard to come by.

🍊 : does violator desire romance? is it something he would actively seek out, or prefer to happen more ‘ naturally?  ’ what is his love life like? does he have any exes or past flings,  or crushes?

   now that violator has experienced romance, he's realized how much he enjoys it and how badly he wants it in his life. he's a lonely guy and sharing such an intimate relationship with another person gives him a sense of purpose and fulfillment; additionally, having someone to confide in, and share affection with, greatly comforts him and puts him at ease. prior to coming to earth, he's never had that before.

   so far violator has been in love twice and it wasn't something he sought out either time - i honestly don't think he would go out of his way to look for love of any kind. it took him a long time to come to terms with himself that he was even capable of feeling love, seeing that it's a scorned emotion where he comes from. but when vi does love, he loves very very deeply. because his attachments are so few and far between, he latches onto people tight - particularly his special someone. he's doting, he's protective, he loves being physical and cracking jokes with his partner. a good sense of humour and a willingness to snuggle up is a huge Must for him.

   dating vi isn't always easy, though. insecurity tends to make him clam up and get distant and/or passive-aggressive. his mood swings and ill-temper won't disappear just because he loves someone, even if he makes more of an effort to restrain himself around them. ( and he will, trust me. ) sometimes he explodes out of nowhere or makes unfair assumptions. a lot of this is tied to his dislike of himself and lack of confidence in his ability to maintain a relationship ( despite his desire for one ), and it usually takes a pretty patient, strong-willed and compassionate person to be able to deal with these kinds of behaviours. i firmly believe vi can learn, but it will take a great deal of time, effort and reassurance.

   he's known rorschach for years and has been dating him for a little over a month - he's head over heels in love with the guy. rorschach tends to bring out his softer side. he had a serious relationship with united states security group director jason wynn in the comics, which fell apart due to vi becoming unstable, emotionally abusive and generally dangerous to be around. my violator loved jason dearly, but chose not to get back together with him due to guilt and a firm belief that jason is better off without him; he feels that his actions towards him are beyond forgiveness. additionally, vi once harboured a years-long obsession with al simmons and a friends-with-benefits relationship with sam burke - the latter of whom he’s still on good terms with and talks to on a regular basis.

   🍋 ; what kind of meals does violator have? does he eat regularly, or the standard 2-3 meals a day? does he have to be reminded to eat, or is he likely to remind others? does he cook, or have others cook for him? do he eat healthily, or not so much?

   it depends on the state of his mental health, who’s around him and what’s available to him at the time. if left to his own devices, violator will quite literally eat whatever he can get his hands on - usually whatever’s in the nearest dumpster, or the cheapest fast food place in the vicinity. ( or, if he’s feeling particularly bloodthirsty, a freshly-plucked human heart. ) he’ll eat when he’s hungry; sometimes that’s multiple meals a day, sometimes it’s not. usually you don’t need to tell him to eat unless he’s feeling particularly upset, and if you’re a special person in his life he will notice if you don’t eat and make sure that you do. you will need to remind him to eat his fruits and vegetables and should expect to deal with some complaining about the latter.

   as for violator’s cooking skills... let’s just say it takes him years of practice before he gets any good at it, but he catches on eventually.

[depths-of-hope-and-despair]

Retrospect

Not altering her typical nightly routine, Aditi found herself clutching onto one of her empty glass bottles by the end of the evening. Thankfully, she made it back to her room before finally closing her eyes, in hopes of a good night’s rest. Her last thought was that she would end up in the same office once again.

And wouldn’t she know it, she actually returned into the very same office, seated on the very same chair, with the very same man expecting her visit this time, smiling widely as he arched his back like a cat, basically buzzing as he greeted her: “Ah, if it isn’t Aditi. Back already, you just couldn’t get enough of me the last time.” He chuckled, leaning back in his chair and opening a notebook, scribbling in it as he continued. “Not that I can blame you, of course. I also have been looking forward to our....reunion.”

He slid the notebook aside, instead focusing on her again and asking: “How was your day? Did you follow my advice or were you not ready yet? Have you read any good books lately?” Typical therapist talk, though there was something about it. He didn’t break eye contact, just like last time, but this time he seemed more prepared.

Aditi blinked rapidly to take in the vision before her, not believing her eyes at first. Why was she back here? Her dreams rarely repeat. What is this? Her confusion turned to annoyance quickly, growling at the man in front of her, already unhappy with his presence. “Is this some kind of joke?” She spat, looking around the room for the sign of any change in scenery. “I try to drown my sorrows with alcohol to sleep peacefully for once, and I’m sent back here. Wonderful...” She grumbles.

Her gaze narrowed again at his questions. “It has been one night. I am not a speed-reader, I prefer to take my time and enjoy books. As for your advice, yes. I did open up to one of my roommates. Which wasn’t very successful, due to her having no emotional intelligence whatsoever.” She couldn’t help but pout that time, actually angry her attempt to open up took a backseat. “What on earth could you possibly have for me now? What else do you want to know?” She asked, guarded and standoffish.

“Magnificent! I see we are already making great progress, good job!” He remained calm, not caring about Aditi’s anger in the slightest, merely jotting something down in the notebook as he continued: “It is an important first step to take the courage and open up to someone. It is great for coping and you have more support that can help you direct your focus away from the past.”

The fact he practically ignored her seething anger only fueled it to new heights. “Your “step forward,” got me nowhere, aside from being judged.” She hissed, her hands gripping the table hard enough to leave small indents with her claws.

“Quite the opposite, Aditi.” He reassured her, observing her denting the table, the wood basically regenerating itself after a few seconds, elaborating: “How would you feel, if someone suddenly revealed something deeply upsetting to you? Maybe your friend was caught off guard. I’m sure they will react differently tomorrow, when they have time to digest the information. You said they lacked emotional intelligence. So it takes longer to compute.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Her bright eyes shined through the dark, staring straight through him with an unreasonable amount of annoyance.

He chuckled, looking up at her, intense eyes almost glowing in the blue light. “I can get you something to drink if you want, but therapy usually takes more than one session. Granted, most people only need one session from me.” His laughter was darker this time, more sinister, but before Aditi could question him, he procured two pieces of paper and two pens.

“For our session today, I thought we would make the pictures ourselves. Who needs Rorschach anyway.” He spoke lightheartedly, sliding a paper and pen across so Aditi could take it, explaining: “It is easy, really. We all have something that causes us grief. Just let your thoughts wander and draw what’s currently haunting you on the paper. I will do it too, since you seem to like it when I participate.”

Aditi scowled down at the blank thin canvas offered to her. What causes her grief? What kind of therapist needs to know that? Did he believe he could make her grief subside by talking about it? Ridiculous. However, she knew the dream wouldn’t end unless she played along sadly. Disgruntled, Aditi picked up the pencil and paper and began to draw. She drew three sketches that immediately came to mind when associating with grief.

The three sketches she slide over to him, were; a sketch of a boy with spiky hair and wearing a button up shirt and tie with a smile, a sketch of her own clawed hand, and lastly, a sketch of a woman with short hair, cat pins in her hair, and broken arm. She too was smiling. She tapped her foot impatiently while awaiting his own paper and the questions to come.

He merely smiled, unfazed by her impatience, turning to his own paper and beginning to scribble. His artistic talent came fully to shine, taking a few minutes longer than her as he drew like a madman. He handed Aditi his paper, revealing a small picture. It showed a man with black hair that was parted in the middle, he looked similar to Albert, trying to get away from a group of horrific looking creatures and a man, only a big, toothy smile visible.

As sneaky as ever, Aditi grabbed his paper quickly, eyes glancing over it and firing her question off before him. “Who is this? Why does he look similar to you?” She questioned.

“He is my arch nemesis. We met during college. He....doesn’t have it easy at the moment. Someone wants him dead and almost succeeded, he disappeared for a few months. I am concerned he will meet an untimely demise.....” He sounded like he wanted to add something to that, but he already said enough. He was just a dream after all.

“And that brings you grief... why exactly?” Aditi asked, one of her claws carefully tracing the sketch under her palm. “You say he is your worst enemy, yet you feel grief at the thought of his demise? Do you worry you’ll be bored once he’s gone and nobody will challenge you? Or is it.. something else?” She inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s....complicated...” He responded, sighing into his hands as he contemplated whether he should tell her or not. He decided with a more simplified version: “He...challenges me in a way I have never seen with anyone else before. In university we raced to be the best in our class and he pushed me to great heights. Without him, I feel....bored. Nothing presents a challenge anymore. What fun is it to be at the top without someone you can watch squirm at their defeat?” He chuckled at the thought, reveling in the thought that he won in college against Vincent, even if their rivalry wasn’t the reason for his concern. It was… something else entirely. “Enough about me, dear. It’s your turn.” He held his hand out expectedly.

Begrudgingly, Aditi handed over the paper, watching him study the little scribbles closely before he wondered: “Who are they? A friend? Or a relative?” He seemed oddly off-put when he said relative, not even questioning if Aditi hurt them. He already knew she did.

Her expression flattened. Not deflating with depression, more so turning into a forced neutral gaze. “The male is one of my partners. The female is... my sister. A relative, yes.” She explained.

He studied the drawings a little closer, squinting and nodding to himself. “I see. Something bad must have happened if it causes you so much grief. Did you get in an argument with your relative and your partner got hurt in the process?” He traced the lines with his maybe gloved hand before putting the paper back down, looking back up at Aditi.

The tall girl sighed at him requesting an elaboration from her. “My partner, he... I was fated to kill him and be the successor to his legacy. Of despair, that is. The later years of my life, when he rebelled and chose hope, I was taught to hate him for betraying us. And now, look where we are. How can I be certain he loves me? Or that he is only toying with me to keep himself safe? How could you love someone who was destined to be your enemy? I don’t understand how he can choose. I understand Lucy. She found me, and I am grateful for her existence to no end. She means a great deal to me, and I would do anything to protect her. I feel the same about him. Yet... there is always the doubt in my mind. That he can’t love me. That he would be better off alone.”

“Just because he chose hope over despair doesn’t mean that he cannot love you. One doesn’t exclude the other.” His gaze softened a bit as he continued: “Your concerns are valid and you are not stupid for having these doubts, but if you ask me, you should seek conversation with him. At the end of the day, I’m just a therapist, and not a mind reader. All I can do is reassure you and encourage communication.” He grabbed his pen and drew a heart around the three of them, showing it to her: “See? It’s not as difficult as you think it is. Sometimes life seems like rocket science, but really, it’s just a quick skip over the river. You just need to take the offered hand.”

At this advice, she sunk into her chair and huffed. “.. It feels impossible to communicate how I feel to him without hurting his feelings. I fear, should I say anything wrong, he’ll blame himself. I pick my words carefully, but, there is no use tiptoeing through a minefield, is there? At times, it... feels better to be silent. To not make the problem worse. It’s... difficult to understand why anyone would choose me. Truly, their standards for beauty must be low.” She tucked a hair behind her ear and frowned at the ground.

He nodded at her doubts about the relationship, admitting to her: “I don’t think that silencing the problem away is going to help. You may not hurt him at the moment, but you are hurting yourself that way. If you leave these doubts unaddressed, they might be the reason the relationship will fall apart. Even if it hurts for a moment, I’m sure he will understand. It is a roadblock you need to work past. You are an intelligent and beautiful young woman, I’m sure both of them are willing to work with you for you.” He tapped his pen against the sketch of the three of them, surrounded by the heart again, inquiring: “Don’t let your doubts, or your pride, get the best of you. You might regret it in the end.”

“... I suppose. I don’t want it to fester forever, but I also don’t want to blurt out my own worries during an awful time. Timing does matter, I believe.” She sighed with a frowning, knowing he was right but unable to fully vocalize it outside of a slight nod. “.. I will talk to him. In the future. I will.” She promised to herself and him all the same.

“Now. About your sister.” He folded his hands together, resting his chin atop them as he leaned forward to listen.

She paused to inhale before speaking. “My sister has never liked me. We had opposing views from a young age. Our...” She swallowed trying to hide the contempt she held or having to use this word. “... mother. Our mother pitied us against one another frequently, to build our competitive spirits. She wanted a life she couldn’t have. I only wanted her to stay safe.” Simplifying their story into a normal family felt so strange. She was stubborn about not telling this man everything just yet. Dancing around the details would be fine for now. “She was reckless. I saved her from danger, took the blame for her idiotic decisions, and showed her everything I knew. Yet it.. was never enough. She never wanted anything to do with me. Mother treated her differently as well. Gave her... things I wasn’t allowed to enjoy myself. I grew jealous because of that. Between her taking my efforts for granted and my own jealousy, I came to resent her, sadly.” Her eyes looked to the side, clearly unhappy with this fact. She didn’t want to hate her own sister. She was the closest she had to someone who understood her own strife. Why did they have to be enemies? Was it her own fault? Was it Trifle’s? Both of theirs? Or was it all to blame on Celia? Would blaming anyone even fix the problem at all...?

He listened patiently when she revealed her concerns about her family. For a moment, just a moment, he felt a connection. It made him shiver, but he quickly disguised it as an arm movement. He had this weird feeling yesterday too. He should look into this more. But for now he needed to offer some advice. “So your sister got preferred to you by your abusive parental figure?” He tried to sum it up, humming and tapping the pen against his palm. “Maybe....try to see things from her perspective? I understand you wanted to protect her, but maybe she didn’t see it like that at all? Think about her character in comparison to yours and what your attempts at protecting her might have looked like from her perspective. And, if you find something....maybe try to contact her and apologize? I know, I know, it doesn’t fix anything that happened, those memories will always remain....but it is not only to clear your conscience, but also to show her that you changed. That you realize your past flaws. Try to explain yourself, how you feel jealousy over everything she had that you were denied. Try to explain your perspective too. Maybe she will understand it. Maybe she won’t. But at the very least you tried and got it off your chest.”

“I never.... said... she was abusive..? My mother.. I mean.” Aditi spoke of her confusion before being able to filter the words coming out. Realizing she had let out her doubts, only made her surrender more information. Was there any use in hiding it? He’s inside my head. He likely already knows. This “therapy session,” is only fun and games for him. “... Captor. She wasn’t my mother. She was my captor. My birth mother died when I was very young. My birth father likely doesn’t know I exist, since he never reared his face in my life. My captor raised me. Celia, is her name. My sister... isn’t blood related. I don’t.. have a family. I never have.” She admitted, frown noticeably turning less forced and more genuinely sad. “Trifle,'' is my sister’s name. She wanted freedom. I wanted her to keep her head down and survive. We had different priorities. I hate..” She took a deep breath, shuddering on the way out. “I hate her. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t want to hate her. But, every time I see her I- hah... she’s everything I’m not. I feel like a child again when I look at her. I feel helpless to my own emotions. It makes me feel... weak. So, I... I don’t look at her anymore.”

“Ah, so she wasn’t your mother after all, and she is not your blood relative. You were....all her prisoners, do I understand that right?” Now he had a better picture of the situation, thinking about it for a moment. “It is a difficult situation you are going through, and it probably always will be, but please trust me when I tell you, that it is okay to feel resentment. When you see her, all you can think about is what she had and what you hadn’t, right? ....I think you should take your time with this. Maybe tell her or write to her that you need some time away from here if you and her see each other often and just...take your time. It is okay to feel resentment, it is okay to carry that resentment for years, but you must also not forget that you are not there anymore. You have a place of your own, and you have acquaintances and you have a relationship” He smiled, tilting his head lightly as he assured her: “You are not alone. And things will get better. We will take it one step at a time, alright?”

The advice centering her family affairs seemed to catch her off guard. All her life, by everyone she confided in about Trifle, she was told her resentment wasn’t valid. She was wrong for hating her sister so adamantly. Trifle didn’t deserve it. She was a victim too. Never mind that Aditi was treated worse on purpose. Poor Trifle would never hurt a fly, and Aditi was cruel to her, so she must be in the wrong, right? She was the villain, like always. Everyone invalidating her only grew her hatred more, towards her sister and herself. It felt strange looking someone in the eyes, who thought she wasn’t entirely at fault. She couldn’t seem to find the words. What was there to say? The fact someone finally understood filled her with relief and tons of sadness on top of it. She barely knew him, and he understood her side more than anyone else did. It was pathetic, but gratifying, all in one. “... We? What do you mean? You intend to keep coming back to my dreams?” She felt herself smile for once. “You’d miss me too much? Heh..”

“Yes, Aditi, I just don’t know how to continue without my favourite hostile patient by my side, we are essentially best friends now!” He chuckled, he had no malice in his voice. He was just joking, thankfully, starting to chuckle to himself as he leaned forward, commenting: “I can tell you have taken a liking to me too, considering all the information you share with me.” He had a little smile on his face, a mixture of smug and happy, enjoying that he finally got through her walls. At least a little.

That description of her family life made him furrow his eyebrows though. Could she be...? No, this wasn’t possible, was it? He didn’t know, it could be her. But there were so many people with the same story. Did her find her? After all those years? “Aditi, would you mind answering me a question? You can always decline of course.” He cleared his throat, getting a little nervous as he asked: “Are you....did you have a name before your current name? You were ‘adopted’, weren’t you?” He just....needed to make sure....

Hearing his question, one of her hands reached up to toy with her midnight hair. “Yes. I’ve had three names in my lifetime. Aditi is my chosen name. Oddity was the one my captor gave me. My birth name was Orabelle.” She explained, tilting her head to the side curiously. “Why do you ask?”

When she said her name, he dropped the pen he had still been holding in one hand, his face morphing and making it look like he just invented a brand new emotion. He muttered something under his breath, hand starting to erratically grab the pen and write something in the notebook, calming himself down in a matter of seconds. “....I’m sorry Aditi. but I cannot tell you yet....I will eventually though, I promise....” And he meant it.

A weird noise echoed through the office, like a cuckoo-clock that was being tortured and Albert sighed, the disappointment heavy on his face. “It seems like this is the end of our session. How unfortunate.” His lips quirked up to a gentle smile, his two fangs poking out from his upper lip again as he ended their conversation with: “I hope we can see each other again very soon.”

Aditi watched his responses to her comments, mouth twitching to a smile when she felt needed. The reaction to her name caught her attention most, of course. When he dropped the pen, her smile dropped with it, back into a curious frown with her eyebrows knit. As he promised to inform her of it later, her mouth opened to protest but was once again cut off by the strange sound. “What do you m-?” She began, but as soon as the words left her, she jolted back to reality, waking up in a cold sweat like before.

[tales-unique]

THIEF

Chapter 1

         DATE          NOV 14TH, 2042

         TIME          PM 05:17:08                          :09                          :10…

Deviancy had given Connor a new perspective on Detroit, one that he would forever be indebted to Markus for allowing him to achieve. As he entered the Detroit City Police Departments headquarters and ascended in the elevator to where the police offices were, now frequented by both human and android officers, he pondered various topics while deftly flicking his coin from one hand to the other.

To clarify, it had been four years since Markus had led his revolt in pursuit of freedom and equality for androids, both deviant and otherwise, and ultimately won the favour of those who had once been their oppressors. It had been an arduous journey, with many casualties, but ultimately their goal was achieved; androids were now a recognized people and were finally free. There was still much work to be done and in the years since those fated days, Markus had worked tirelessly to bridge a gap that many had deemed impossible to completely fill. So far it had all be favourable due to the determination of Markus to lead a peaceful revolution, one that had brought many humans around to their cause. Their plight had resonated with many who themselves had felt downtrodden and outcast, and Connor felt himself comparing it to other accounts in history where humans had turned on their own kind just as easily; it was in their nature to be this way, he would often remind himself, to keep any negativity in check. With a flick of his wrist, he captured the smooth metal coin in between his fingers, brow creasing briefly. A report had been filed; an altercation between two humans and an android with another human having been caught fleeing the scene. As the words flitted in his cybernetic brain he felt a small frown tug at his lips. Although there was much positive progress in the way of equal rights and liberties for androids there were still those who feared the changes, both human and androids alike. It was inevitable that there would still be clashes, as Markus himself had informed the people of Jericho, and soon the peoples of the world, but Connor felt somewhat calmer knowing that there was a conscious effort now to limit these instances. Especially as he was able to return to his previous occupation within the Detroit Police Force. Now a fully-fledged Detective, no longer attached to Cyberlife since its collapse, Connor now focused on being able to help Markus in the best way he knew how; by ensuring that androids contributed to society in a positive way. Pulling himself from his reverie as the metallic ding of the elevator doors opening sounded, Connor politely nodding his head to a pair of other detectives that entered the elevator as he left, his feet carrying him swiftly to the bright, open room where he worked. The layout and the design were still the same, with tables lined out neatly with each lieutenant’s name presented on a plaque, but now there was one more decorated desk— his own. “Good evening, Lieutenant,” Connor smiled as he strode to his desk, situated opposite the decorated, yet grizzled, detective and his partner of some time. “Hey Connor,” came a somewhat exasperated sigh, to which Connor’s brows furrowed once more, his head tilting a fraction as he assessed the situation. Hank looked tired, far more so than usual, and Connor noted with some shock that there were no traces of whiskey in the cooled coffee that sat forgotten in his mug. Ceasing his analysis Connor settled at the edge of Hank’s desk, glancing at a report the older man had been staring at for what he imagined to have been a while, judging by the way he seemed to have no focus on it whatsoever. “You look tired, is it a rough case?” Connor spoke out, inclining a hand to the report Hank possessed, expression becoming more perplexed when a gruff laugh was his response and a shake of the head. “No, no, actually, it’s pretty shit. Fowler thinks I ought to take it easy every once in a while, the bastard,” Hank almost snarled, soon tossing the report onto his desk without a care. He glanced up at Connor, who looked at it expectantly. Still something of a poodle, that boy was, and Hank almost missed the motion of his hand already waving to allow Connor a read. “Go for it,” he huffed, turning his eyes to his terminal, “just some burglary attempt, nothing major, he just wanted my input since the witness is— Hmph .” The way Hank abruptly ended his sentence didn’t go unnoticed by Connor as he took the report in hand to read what little had already been documented, eyes scanning over it wordlessly. He looked sour, like in those first meetings between them when all of this began, and it worried Connor. In truth, human emotion was still somewhat new for the android, though he was more at peace with it than some. Slipping from his perched position, Connor gave a small nod, setting the report back down. In seconds he had already gained the knowledge, the rest was a mere formality. “I believe the fact than an android is involved may be a reason why Captain Fowler assigned you the case,” he gave a small shrug, locking gazes with Hank. The older man only hummed in response, leaning back in his chair, giving the non-verbal hint for him to continue. “After all, we are still, technically, the best team for handling any deviant behaviour, isn’t that correct Lieutenant?” A small, chipper smile was given, and he could see Hank’s shoulder slack in acceptance. Connor could more often than not bring the old detective around to his way, in that same way a child always gets what they want in one capacity or another. With a grin Connor straightened his tie, falling into step with Hank as the two made their way to the interrogation rooms.

Connor had initially been indifferent to interrogating the woman that had been caught fleeing the scene. He concluded that she was a criminal, albeit not as dangerous as the android they were investigating who had been present, and thus deemed it another step towards completing the mission. He did find it interesting to note that it was statistically higher for men to be caught attempting burglary than women, but he still held the conviction that she was just a criminal. However it soon became clear to him as they continued that she was no ordinary burglar or indeed no ordinary woman. It had taken mere seconds, perhaps even less if that were possible, to hear her audible growl as her eyes narrowed on the mirror before her, one that she outed as being two-way and no doubt concealing the detectives within, an iciness to her tone that caused even him to stiffen. She spoke out harshly, daring them to come back and try to make her talk. It was this statement that caused Hank to groan as he stood at Connors side, hand dragging down his face; no doubt this was why he seemed so drained earlier— he’d already attempted to speak to her before. Before any other words were uttered Connor initiated a scan, one that turned his LED a consistent spinning circle of yellow. In truth he had been reluctant to remove it, becoming almost fond of the light at his temple, viewing it as part of his still-forming identity. Connor the android sent by Cyberlife still remained, he simply had evolved, but like other androids and even humans he wanted to still resemble some small part of the life that led him to this point. Instantly there came a mugshot photo of the suspect before him, her name suspended in neat lettering beneath it. VERONICA VORNE. The name intrigued him, mostly because of the alliteration of her name and its ease when being pronounced. He continued to sift through the walls of text, briefing himself on the basic demographics and the like that had been catalogued for her file before coming to her criminal history. Predominantly she was known for serial burglary, though one account of public assault coupled with resisting arrest had resulted in a two year sentence. Having ascertained such information he then moved on to the young woman herself. Shrouded in the typical dark attire of a thief she looked so stark against the white background, like a concise Rorschach inkblot. The clothes were thick, black sleeved shirt and denim jeans, designed to keep her well insulated and warm in the cold November weather, just as the solid boots on her feet did. As she lifted her wrists to flex them, testing the range of movement she had with the handcuffs, Connor noticed her fingerless gloves. He then moved to her leather coat, which was still zipped and dappled with wet patches from where snow had melted upon it. It seemed fitted to her shape, and Connor couldn’t help but wonder how she was able to evade capture long enough to have made it outside while wearing it. He noticed no hood nor cap on her person that would have obscured her face. It was then he recalled an officer with a black balaclava in hand, speckled with moisture in places, which was most likely hers. No doubt it was taken upon her arrest so they could identify her. It was in this moment that Connor took a moment to survey her face, taking in her features. Everything about her seemed to resemble the stark contrast between dark and light. Deep-coloured eyes, glowing a rich brown in the fluorescent of the lights were set against the bright whites of her eyes, though he detected the faintest of blood vessels there; from stress, he surmised. They were framed in long, delicate lashes that dared to flutter ever so lightly every time she heard movement behind the locked door. Then his gaze shifted to observe her skin, which was rosy to a degree, as he had seen from her mugshot photograph, yet the harsh light only exaggerated the pale undertones. Tilting his head minutely during the scan he noted the softness of the features themselves, their femininity, as his eyes looked over her dainty nose, to her lips. They were a dusty shade of pink, like the Spring Roses he sometimes saw in the park and would have looked warm and inviting had they not been pulled into a harsh frown. With a turn of her head towards the camera her hair gave a small flourish, having been released from the confines of her hood upon capture judging from the tousled look it held. Despite this frazzled appearance Connor noted its healthy condition and medium length, it falling in waves down her back. The colour of its strands resembled her eyes in its rich brunette colour and sported a gleam that eluded to her fondness for hair care. A well-kept thief, he noted to himself. With the rudimentary scan complete, the whole process taking less than a few seconds, Connor returned to reality, his gaze now looking to Hank once more, relaying the information he’d gathered as he so often did. “Veronica Vorne, born in downtown Detroit on—” “Relax, I know who she is,” Hank soon interrupted, watching with some amusement as Connor looked at him in confusion, his eyebrows soon raising upwards towards his hairline. “Not personally ,” Hank quickly added, “but our paths have crossed a few times, little shit.” The term was said with a fondness Hank didn’t show often, and even then it had only been picked up on because Connor was an android. Tilting his head, Connor silently willed Hank to continue, wishing to learn more, earning a deep sigh from the older officer and a roll of his eyes. “I’m not playing ball tonight Connor, so stop lookin’ at me like that! Just go, get in there, and let’s do our thing, Christ.” It was clear it grated on Hank’s nerves to be pulled into such a basic case, though Connor knew there may be more to it. He would pry into it at a later time, for now he tasked himself with following Hank’s lead, eyes falling upon the wayward thief once the door sealed behind him.

It was the sharp sound of the door opening that made Veronica’s eyes turn to them, eyeing them warily for a moment before widening in recognition; she'd almost expected it to be that asshole, Gavin, again. Hank’s name fell from her lips and Connor would have almost mistaken it for breathless if not for the fact she was not out of breath at all, at least according to his interface anyway. humans had such strange mannerisms, ones that were often contradictions to themselves. Connor took to standing back from the table, allowing Hank to sit opposite her, and for a moment all was silent. Both Hank and Veronica sat back in their respective seats, Hank with his arms crossed, studying the woman before him, and Veronica with an almost childish pout of her lips, eyes narrowed again as she attempted to formulate a way to be out of this predicament. Hank was the first to break their stalemate, shifting to lean forward with his arms resting on the table, gaze staring at her squarely. He read out her rights for a second time, to which she gave consent to waiver, and it was then that Connor learnt that she’d already violated the agreed terms of her bail once before. This, the android concluded, would result in jail time unless she cooperated with them on their investigation. Raising an eyebrow Hank regarded Veronica as her own brows knitted together for a moment, contemplating the situation; tell them what she knew and be a rat or continue her vow of silence and maintain a paper thin loyalty. The quote “no honour among thieves” suddenly came to Connors mind as he continued to stand with his arms folded across his chest. There was a soft sigh from the woman, tired and annoyed, as she looked away from them both. It was then that she finally opened her mouth to speak, and Connor felt himself perk up in anticipation of what she was going to say. “I don’t know anything about an android, or an android murdering anyone. I was just there to rob the place, alone .” To say that Hank was enraged by her statement was obvious from the way he slammed a hand down upon the metal table, causing the young woman to jump in her seat, eyes wide; startled. They bickered back and forth, starting with Hank’s low growl that she was spouting a load of bullshit and he was in no mood for it. Veronica, on the other hand, maintained her innocence in the matter vehemently, suddenly panicked. She claimed that she’d entered the premises alone with the sole intention of committing a robbery and had no knowledge that there’d been an android there at all nor that said android had been involved in a previous murder that they were currently investigating. However Connor could see from the subtle twitch of her eye that this was at the very least, a half-truth, to which he stepped forward and placed a strategic hand upon Hank’s shoulder, just at the moment he was about to lunge forward with another verbal attack. “Might I try, Lieutenant?” The request was simple enough, but Connor was unsure if Hank would allow him the chance to question Veronica, even though he was rather stressed by the whole situation. For a moment or two Hank regarded him, eyes narrowed suspiciously while he did so, before he gave a huff and a nod, vacating the seat. With a polite incline of his head Connor settled into it, briefly glancing to the door as Hank exited the room; perhaps it was better for all of them that he was given time to cool down. Throughout the whole thing Veronica had sat in relative silence, but as Connor turned his gaze to her, hands clasping together upon the table before him, he noticed how she looked almost distressed that Hank had left the room. With a calm smile upon his face Connor watched her closely, tilting his head slightly as he noticed how she seemed to retreat slightly within herself, her eyes becoming wide and almost fearful. Was she aware that he’d caught onto her bluff? Did she know she stood no real chance against him when it came to the interrogation? Connor was curious to discover the reasoning behind her fear but wanted first to calm her enough so that she would at least talk to him. “Hello, my name is Connor, and you are?” He started out modestly, casually, but it only served to cause her to stiffen in her seat. His smile faltered slightly into a small frown but he refused to give up. He would try a kinder approach before he would press her any further. Glancing to the mirror he sighed, looking back at her once more. “Lieutenant Anderson may seem coarse in his approach, but he means well,” Connor began, watching as Veronica shifted her gaze to the mirror briefly before locking her gaze to him again, following each movement he made. Taking this as a positive sign, Connor continued, even going so far as to lean in slightly, regarding her more. “He just wants to solve the homicide investigation and we think you may have crucial information—” “I don’t know anything!” The abruptness of her interruption caused Connor to pause, his LED flickering a circle of yellow before he straightened in his seat. He noted how Veronica then swallowed nervously, knowing that her outburst had convinced him of the opposite, that she did indeed know something about the case. Lowering her head down she forced her gaze downcast, settling to stare at her bound hands, form fidgeting slightly in her seat. Connor knew that he was close, something in itself that surprised him given how aggressive she’d been beforehand at times when Hank had been interrogating her. Clearly there was an emotional element that he had uncovered, or perhaps it was the fact that he was a complete stranger, and an android, that had shaken her resolve, and caused her to become flustered. Connor was undecided for the moment but felt the time right to begin to apply pressure to the situation. “You do realize that if you don’t help me you will go to prison,” he snapped suddenly, harsh and unforgiving, once again causing her to jump slightly in her seat. “Tell me, Veronica, do you want to go back to prison again?” His question was pointed and it caused her eyes to immediately fly up to meet his own, her hands splaying out on the table’s surface as she shook her head meekly. It was a slow process, but Connor soon began to pull threads of relevant information from her. It was interesting to find that she did indeed know nothing of the android that they were investigating, despite both having been reported to be in the same property, yet he did learn of another android, the one who she had been indirectly protecting all along. An older model, possibly an AF200 model judging from her limited description, discarded and left to shut down, that she had named Zen. Veronica had refused to let them go unnoticed, to be forgotten. She took the android to her home and, with what little she had, attempted to repair or rebuild what she could. Of course she wasn’t even remotely qualified for such a task, but attempt it she did and this led her to steal so that she could then purchase or trade for what she needed. Connor listened quietly, his LED consistently yellow, until her tone lowered and her voice faded into silence. Her eyes were downcast once more and held a forlorn sense to them that caused Connor to unclasp his hands, reaching one out to gentle cover her own. At the gesture Veronica lifted her gaze ever so slightly, acknowledging the contact. They were both silent for a moment before Connor spoke up, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I give you my word that Zen will not be hurt, but I need you to be honest with me. Do you know anything about the android? Anything at all?” He pressed further, and although she was uncomfortable she did give a small nod that was coupled with a sigh. “I know someone who might know about the android. He’s done a couple jobs with me in the past, runs with a small group in the area where the guy was killed,” she hummed lightly, and Connor could feel her fingers twitch slightly underneath his own, unaware she was tentatively brushing the inside of his palm as though to calm herself. Catching herself part way through Veronica sucked in a breath, pulling her hand free to the edge of the table, eyes pointedly looking to the side. “I’ll see what I can get out of him,” she added, briefly glancing to the two-way mirror with a glowering expression. “You hear that Hank?” Came her biting comment, voice raised, “I’m going to see what I can do to help your little case!” She huffed, dropping back against her seat, almost as though she’d deflated. It was amusing to Connor, who sat with grin upon his lips, which on increased when she turned her gaze to him and gave a small flicker of a smile. It seemed like she was fighting herself to do so however by the way she turned her head away and tried to pinch her lips together, eyes glittering despite only looking at the wall. With the interrogation over, Veronica was escorted by Hank to one of the holding cells until the information she had given them could be credited and what little information they had could be written up. It needed to be collated with the rest of the information from the couple whose home she had tried to rob. In truth, she was still in a lot of trouble considering she had violated the terms given to her at her last arrest, despite having given them a possible lead, but that wasn’t the main concern Connor had. Remaining a few steps behind as he followed the pair Connor silently contemplated what would happen to her once the investigation was over. Of course, his rationale told him that she would continue to be as she was and that he would most likely cross paths with her again following the next crime she committed, but he also found himself thinking beyond that narrow, professional viewpoint. He was concerned that there would be no saving grace for her next time, that she would be arrested and charged and ultimately end up in prison for more than her previous sentence. It was then he recalled the android, Zen, whom she had become fond of. Like a lonesome puppy, who would care for them while she was gone? Who would inform them of her absence? The questions, though trivial in comparison to his investigation, bothered him and it was noticed immediately by Hank, who had now turned back to the android after Veronica was settled into the holding cell. “You alright Connor?” The older detective asked, concern lacing his gruff voice, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder. When he was met with only a simple yes Hank’s eyes narrowed and he hummed his suspicions. Casting a gaze behind him he spotted Veronica watching them with interest, eyes bright and curious before she quickly looked away. With a small huff of a chuckle, he guided Connor away back to their desks, already surmising what the issue could be. He may have been old, but he wasn’t stupid. Pushing the android down into his seat Hank moved to his own, settling into it with a deep sigh. There had been the glimmer of hope that he would be able to leave work early for once, but that had been long extinguished. Flicking his tired eyes to Connor he found the poor android to still looking as perplexed as before. Leaning back in his chair he contemplated opening that can of worms and ultimately decided that he owed Connor that much at least, given all they’d been through. With as much of an expectant look as he could muster, Hank sat up straight, gaining Connors full attention at last. “Something on your mind, Connor?” He then asked, resting his arms on his desk, eyebrows raising when the android opened his mouth to speak, with some difficulty he noted. “I’m curious, Lieutenant,” he began, to which Hank hummed dryly, already having guessed as much already, “what will happen to Miss Vorne once her usefulness has run its course?” He asked almost innocently, somewhat shocking the older detective. When Hank didn’t reply Connor continued on, brows furrowed, hands gesturing along with his voice. “I only ask because it’s statistically proven that offenders will continue to offend unless prevented from doing so, and she’s already stated that she steals in order to help repair the android she saved, Zen I believe she called them—” “Focus, Connor,” Hank drawled, leaning his head against his hand. “Ah, yes. What I mean to say is that I believe we should, at least, try to help her in some way. Maybe we could utilize her as some kind of informant, perhaps? Her connections may prove useful in our investigations, especially if the lead she’s already provided us proves correct,” he concluded, pursing his lips as he studied Hank’s expression. Connor could feel a sense of unease cross over him and he also detected panic flare within him, which only intensified when Hank snorted sourly and shook his head. “Holy shit, you’re worried about her!” He exaggerated, eyes wide as he swivelled slightly in his chair to look at his terminal, incredulous. Releasing a deep breath Hank attempted to distract himself with his work before looking to Connor once more, who looked at him with a look of despair painted on his face, like a puppy lost off its leash. “Veronica’s fine , Connor,” Hank attempted to console him, “she’ll give us the lead like she promised and she’ll prance outta here like nothing happened and returned to that android of hers, okay? There, did that clear your conscience?” The sarcastic nature of Hanks comment didn’t go amiss and Connor gave a frown in response, LED oscillating between blue and yellow before finally settling back to its standard blue ring. “Actually, Lieutenant,” Connor began pointedly, mimicking his sarcasm, turning his gaze toward the corridor that housed the holding cells, “I don’t believe that it has.” He then turned his gaze back to Hank only to see that he now held his head in his hands and was groaning at the situation before him. He knew that he could stop it before it could properly start by demanding that Connor let it go, but he also knew that Connor wouldn’t be able to do just that so easily and would probably attempt to do something himself to help her. Thus he decided that the best action to take was to give in to Connor’s newfound humanity and let the little shit in on the fun. Pushing his chair away from his desk with his feet Hank stood up with a grunt, beckoning Connor to follow him with a flick of his hand. “Well, are ya coming or what?” He then called, smirking at the sound of the android scampering to follow him towards the holding cells.

Captain Fowler was, to say the least, not impressed by Hank’s insubordination. To have released Veronica without permission had annoyed him enough, but to then come into his office and request, dare he say demand, that she be given a probationary period to try as an informant for their case? Well, that was something else entirely. Ultimately, with a lot of convincing from both Hank and Connor, the Captain reluctantly agreed to allow Veronica to operate as an informant on the condition that she would report any and all findings she could to them in order to further their case and any other cases that she may find knowledge of. Any leads that produced breaks in the case would result in leniency to her prior charges, something that would no doubt tempt her into doing a good job. There had also been the warning that if she didn’t perform well there would be consequences, but Hank hadn’t the patience nor the care to properly listen, but Connor had. It hardened his resolve to ensure she did well, and remained safe, while she worked alongside them. Upon seeing Hank and Connor move to leave the Captain’s office Veronica stood straight, watching them expectantly as they descended the small set of stairs, hands in front of her as her fingers twisted around the balaclava that had been taken from her previously. “So, what’s happening? Am I free to go now?” She asked eagerly, bouncing slightly on her heels. She needed to hurry home to check on Zen, to make sure the android hadn’t gotten into mischief while she’d been gone. Her expression dropped slightly when Hank began to explain the conditions of her release but she ultimately came to accept them. Not that she had much choice. The notion of working with someone on the inside brought forth memories of infiltrating Jericho for Connor, and although it wasn’t all a positive memory a small smile come to his lips as he recalled the moment he finally came into his own and became deviant. It opened to him a whole new perspective on life, one that he was now determined to embrace wholeheartedly. Amidst his recollections he’d noticed that Veronica had fallen a couple of steps behind them upon leaving the police headquarters, the cool night breeze having ruffled her hair. He stopped to watch for a moment to watch as she brushed the waves back, bringing her hood up to trap them. When he finally caught her attention he felt his lips twitch upwards, motioning for her to continue at his side. When she accepted the offer by falling into step beside him Connor felt a similar feeling to the one he’d experienced back in the police headquarters; a slight nervousness blooming in the pit of his artificial stomach so to speak. Humans would often engage in small talk when walking with one another, or so he’d observed, and since Hank had decided to stop and do just that with another officer who was just returning, Veronica was left to his company, and his company alone, so he took the chance to engage her in conversation. Pausing on route to Hank’s car, Connor turned his head to Veronica, who looked at him curiously, stopping as he had. It was now that he could truly regard the difference in height between them. He was at a minimum a few inches taller than her, give or take an inch due to the thick heel on her boots, for he had calculated her at five feet and five inches when inside the station, again taking the heel size into consideration. He gave a small, polite cough, having realized that he had been staring, a small blue hue lightly dusting the tops of his cheeks. Wanting to distract from any uncomfortable instances, Connor felt it best to begin a conversation with her, noting as he did so the small tremble in her limbs. “It’s a rather cold night, are you alright?” Although her clothes were insulated, the lack of movement meant that the chill of the night air was able to affect her, and Connor wanted her to feel comfortable, especially with him. They were going to be partners, after all, and her well-being and morale was now something to consider. “Oh, no, I’m fine,” Veronica replied with a soft smile before her brows furrowed slightly, taking in his smart appearance. “Aren’t you cold?” The question caused his own eyebrows to raise upwards slightly and he opened his mouth to correct her, for androids couldn’t feel the cold as humans could, before deciding that he would take her concern as it was. Giving her a small smile in response he shook his head, smoothing his suit jacket down with his hands on impulse. “No, I’m not cold, but thank you for asking,” he then replied, eyes drawn to the way her breath created entrancing wisps of mist in the air before vanishing without a trace. There was still so much that enthralled him about humans, from their mannerisms to their very beings, which was to be expected from an android programmed to be as inquisitive and curious as he was. Silence then fell upon them for a moment before a cough drew their attention, Connor turning his head to see Hank stood, alone, with his arms crossed, watching him and Veronica with an inscrutable look upon his face. “Is something wrong, Lieutenant?” Connor questioned, though he couldn’t understand if anything would be wrong. He had just been idly chatting while Hank himself had done so. “Well I’d like to get home before I freeze my balls off , thank you,” came Hanks sharp quip in response with a roll of his eyes, though his gaze soon narrowed with a huff when Veronica snickered at the comment, shaking her head lightly. Connor watched the small exchange with some interest before he regarded Veronica again, once more looking at her with a curious, if somewhat concerned, expression. “How will you be getting home?” He questioned, his auditory systems noting the sound of Hank entering his car; the familiar creak of the car door and the slam of metal. “Might I suggest you share a ride with Lieutenant Anderson and myself?” It was a kind gesture and an appropriate one to make, judging from the way Veronica smiled warmly. Thus he couldn’t help how his brows knitted together in confused shock when she politely, and somewhat awkwardly, declined. Her reasoning was that she didn’t want to be any more of a bother than she already had been for the pair and that her home wasn't so far away that she couldn’t walk there. “Oh,” he replied after some thought, looking dejected amidst his confusion, “I see, but I’m afraid I must insist. A woman shouldn’t walk the streets alone, especially on a winter’s night.” His heart, though artificial, was in the right place, and he wasn’t going to allow Veronica to put herself in danger for the sake of a little burden. One that he calculated would only be around twelve or so minutes, if the snow held off at least. Connor wanted to remain respectful of her independence but the android was too chivalrous to be beaten, and after a small bout of back and forth banter Veronica finally gave in with a sigh, thanking him quietly as he motioned with his hand for her to make her way to the car. It was a relatively quiet drive, with only the melodies of the quiet jazz that Hank enjoyed filling the space of the car. An obvious difference from the Heavy Metal Connor was usually met with. The android rode shotgun with Hank at the wheel, while Veronica was settled in the back behind him. Stealing a glance at her through the rear view mirror Connor noticed how she had her head turned to look out the car window, a weary expression on her face, illuminated at regular intervals by the street lights. He studied her until they reached her address, or as near to as she felt comfortable with revealing, and then he watched as she shifted forward in her seat, eyes looking between them both. “Thanks for the ride, guys, I appreciate it,” she murmured, nodding her head in acknowledgement as Hank assured her it wasn’t too out of his way, her gaze then turning to Connor, who had turned in his seat to regard her. “Goodnight, Miss Vorne, and please refrain from getting into any more trouble tonight,” Connors' voice held a teasing edge, one that caused her to smirk lightly in response. “I make no promises,” Veronica countered with a small chuckle and with that she slipped out of the car. She gave a small wave as she then crossed the street, blending into the shadows as she walked the rest of the small distance to her home, leaving Connor to decipher his thoughts about her.

[theprinceandagcd]

imma talk about what jason said real quick and why it doesn’t bother me

below the cut because its kinda long but 

“At the end of this season, Bellamy accepts what Clarke did leaving him behind to die in the fighting pit, and Clarke accepts what Bellamy did to put the Flame in Madi's head, both fairly huge betrayals. Ultimately their relationship is at a point where it's been before and where it's always been heading which is that they are, at this moment, non-romantic soul mates. They are better together. They are partners. Monty realized that and that's why he chooses to wake the two of them up first and nobody else. As always Bellamy and Clarke are at the center of the show and that relationship is hugely important. That's all I'll say in terms of the Bellarke of it all. It's a Rorschach test in many ways; people bring to it what they bring to it and we write it and put it out there in the world and let it be judged. It's not going to be an answer that satisfies a lot of people, I understand. I feel like it's so much rarer and more special in television where the two leads have that kind of non-romantic, soul mates, partners, teammates; how often have we seen the two leads get together? This is not something that is done as often in television and personally I think it's special. I'm not saying one way or another where it's going but certainly at the moment it's in a place that I think is pretty cool.”

Upon first read, this def made me a little angry, but I don’t see Jason saying “yo this is never going to happen” and I also don’t see him saying “oh yeah this is definitely happening”-- it’s the same speech that any writer will give and sounds a lot like trump trying to answer a serious question (ie a lot of words and never actually giving a straight answer)

He’s not going to come right out and say it’s going to happen because he wants as many people as possible to watch his show for as long as possible. Is he kinda a jerk to us about it? absolutely, a lot of the time. but we’ve been watching this show for five years and they always say things like this, but then the actual content of the show gives us things like 1) Clarke looking on sadly during/after two of the main four or so B/echo snippets, 2) some high key non-platonic looks, 3) SERIOUSLY HAVE YOU SEEN THE WAY THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER?? and 4) the possible series finale ending with them, arms wrapped around each other and staring at their future

“I’m not saying one way or another where it’s going” and the fact that he said “at the moment” TWICE-- I’m not studying what jason rothenburg says. I’m focusing on what the show does. And the show has made this all about bellamy and clarke and how much they care about each other, and made it where them being together just makes sense. 

I stan (one) slow burn ship

[comic-movieheroesranked]

Cinematic Comic Characters Ranked! (Year 2009) Final Part

It’s rough coming right after a fantastic year of movies (2008) but 2009 did pretty well for itself. Terminator Salvation is our only sequel and we also get an X-Men spinoff with X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Kids favorite shows come out with Astro Boy, Dragonball: Evolution, and G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra, and we got a couple of thrillers with Whiteout and Surrogates. We also get the debut of the controversial Watchmen! Here’s your TOP 20!

*SPOILERS AHEAD FOR ALL HIGHLIGHTED MOVIES ABOVE*

20. Tom Greer (Surrogates)

"You don't change what's been done. You and I know that better than most people."

Tom Greer is a cop living in a world where surrogates are used for everything and humans don't even leave their bedrooms. He gets thrown into a murder case where people are dying through their hosts and gets his whole world turned upside down when his surrogate is destroyed. Now Greer is forced to live as a human again and deal with the emotions and risks that comes with it. After stopping Canter from killing every human attached to the surrogate, he ultimately decides to let the virus destroy the surrogates and returns to home to fix his relationship with his wife.

19. Kyle Reese (Terminator Salvation)

"Come with me if you want to live!"

Introducing a young Kyle Reese, the man who goes back in time and ends up being John Connor's father, was such an interesting dynamic. Kyle looked up to John, completely unaware that he was the one who created him, along with Sarah Connor. Star being his traveling buddy proves that he's good with kids and his character really shows when he calms down all the prisoners and continues to inspire them despite their dreadful looking futures. Skynet recognizes him as the biggest threat so he ends up becoming the number one target and has to get rescued by John and Marcus, another man he ends up looking up to.

18. Snake Eyes (G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra)

*silently fights with ninja sword*

Another mute on our list, Snake Eyes has taken a vow of silence after it appeared his arch enemy, Storm Shadow, killed their master. Now on the G.I. Joe team, Snake Eyes is called in when the team desperately needs a win. He pulls through for the most part, until Storm Shadow comes back in the picture. Personally, there's not much emotional investment I can give to a mute that literally covers his entire body to the point that I never see facial journeys or expressions. Like yes, he's a bad ass, but I really wanted to know how he felt knowing that Storm Shadow wasn't the one who killed his master after all.

17. Adrian Veidt/Ozymandias (Watchmen)

"I don't mind being the smartest man in the world, I just wish it wasn't this one."

Our villain, not villain of the movie. Adrian is one of the only superheroes to reveal his identity, now using his incredible brain to help out the world...as well as start a toy line. Turns out he's the one that killed The Comedian and managed to block out Dr. Manhattan from his plan to 'save the world'. How does he do this? By blowing up cities full of millions of innocent people. Unlike most villains, he doesn't give the heroes a chance to stop him, he pulls the trigger and gets away with it. The worst part? His plan sort of works. All the world leaders decide to band together in peace to heal their major losses and will look to him and his resources for guidance. He also had this really cool looking purple tiger that he killed for no reason and knowing Zack Snyder as a director, I think Adrian is supposed to be bisexual with his high interest in Alexander the Great.

16. Kayla Silverfox (X-Men Origins: Wolverine)

"Walk until you bleed... then keep walking!"

Kayla Silverfox is a mutant with the ability to control others through touch. After her sister is taken by Stryker, she agrees to start a relationship with Logan and fake her death so that he would seek revenge and agree to go through the Weapon X program. I guess she really did care for him, but it's hard to believe it when she only brings it up as a way to convince him to help her rescue her sister. I think it does show she cares though when she tries to convince him not to kill Victor, not wanting him to give in to his animal side. In the end she does actually die, getting shot by Stryker, but not before she gets Stryker under her control and makes him disappear.

15. Wallace A. Weems/Ripcord (G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra)

"Don't start being all nice now."

Everyone needs a comic relief, and on the G.I. Joe's team it's Ripcord. Literally every seen he was in he ends up being the butt of a joke, which obviously got old really quick. It was nice to see him bring out the emotional side of Scarlett and he did truly care about Duke when he was in trouble, so he was more bearable after that. He does come through in the end, flying one of the fastest jets known to man to take out the three missiles launched at three huge city populations all by himself.

14. Shana M. O'hara/Scarlett (G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra)

"Kill all the bad guys."

With Cover Girl dying early on in the movie, Scarlett ends up being the only girl representing the Joe's. Being just as smart as Breaker and one of the best fighters on the team, Scarlett proves she's not t be taken lightly. Her knowledge of different languages helps Ripcord take down the warheads at the end of the movie and we see her start to embrace her emotional side instead of just being the perfect robot soldier.

13. Daniel Dreiberg/Nite Owl II (Watchmen)

"God I'm tired of being afraid, afraid of war, afraid of the mask-killer and afraid of this goddamn suit, and how much I need it."

Daniel is the nicest guy in this whole movie! He doesn't even do much that's super nice, he just doesn't do anything that makes him an asshole like every other guy in the movie. Even though he's the second Nite Owl, he's considered the best, even by the original. He takes not being a hero anymore pretty well and starts living a normal life, but he starts craving the suit more and more as each day passes by. Laurie coming back in his life is the match to light the fire and he officially comes out of retirement to help save the world again, as well as have some steamy sex with Laurie on his owl-shaped jet/ship. There's really nothing he can do to stop Adrian's plan or to stop Rorschach's death but he is able to call Adrian out on his hypocrisy before continuing his life fighting crime with Laurie.

12. Victor Creed/Sabretooth (X-Men Origins: Wolverine)

"Nobody gets to kill you but me!"

So in a bizarre twist, Victor Creed is actually Logan's older brother. As they grow up, its blatantly obvious that Logan is the superior brother though, and that creates some jealous tension coming from Victor. When Logan 'abandons' him and quits Stryker's team, he works with Stryker to bring him down. He also hunts down any mutant that can help with Weapon XI. Being Stryker's glorified lap dog ends up benefiting him in no way, shape, or form as Stryker reveals he lied and that the adamantium wouldn't work on Victor like it did Logan. Of course this doesn't go well and the two brother duke it out, with Logan coming out as the winner, even more so when he decides to spare Victor's life. Victor returns the favor, helping Wolverine defeat Weapon XI before running off, making it clear their rivalry is still very much a thing.

11. Conrad S. Hauser/Duke (G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra)

"My army."

The main G.I. Joe, the All-American hero that will never give up on a mission and do whatever he can to complete it. I liked Duke his heart was always in the right place, but I just got to drag him for the situation with Ana for a bit. He really thought the best thing to do after her brother's death was to abandon her? Like, he can't really be that dumb, can he? And then to not even try to contact in her in FOUR YEARS?? The only reason he runs into her is because her not-dead brother brainwashes her to be this ass-kicking villain he ends up having to go against. Anyways, Duke was an essential member when it came to stopping Cobra. When everyone else was down it was him that stopped the nanobites from destroying all of Paris. And in the end it was him that snapped Ana out of her mind control and then pursued The Doctor to get him arrested. His dedication to the cause is extremely valiant, but maybe he should take some therapy lessons on how to open up to his fiance when there's a little drama in their lives.

10. Carrie Stetko (Whiteout)

"I gotta go out and do the rounds."

Carrie is one hardcore woman who has been fighting for her life from the get go. Even before the investigation in the Antarctic she had to tango with death as she fought off a man her partner released on her, making her trust in others lessen obviously. Then she moves to Antarctica where she now has to deal with the continents first murder, days before she was going to retire permanently. During the investigation, she nearly gets killed like five times and ends up having to get get TWO of her fingers amputated. With all that she still manages to stop the killer as well as confront one of her closest friends. Afterwards though, she decides not to retire, but does ask if she could be stationed someplace warmer.

9. Astro (Astro Boy)

"This is my destiny."

I loved Astro! He was just so nice and kind and helped everyone he could but because he was a robot everyone had to treat him like shit! Even with his father abandoning him, Hamegg wanting to profit off him, and President Stone wanting to destroy him for his blue core energy, he still did all he could to do the right thing and did everything he could to help anyone who was in danger. His level of awareness was also incredible! Like his willingness to sacrifice himself even though he still had the mind of a thirteen year old was incredible and I'm so glad he survived and became Metro City's new protector.

8. Walter Kovacs/Rorschach (Watchmen)

"Men get arrested. Dogs get put down."

I was conflicted with Rorschach because yes, he killed not one, but two dogs, but I totally understand why. They were owned by a man who brutally murdered a little girl and then fed her to them. The birth of Rorschach happens on the night he kills the man instead of turning him into authorities. He starts serves his own brand of justice even after the Watchmen are disbanded. He's the only one that starts investigating The Comedian's murder, which leads him to getting framed for Moloch's murder. In prison, Rorschach takes down a lot of enemies he's put in there before he breaks out with Nite Owl and Silk Spectre II. When Adrian succeeds in killing millions of people to save billions, Rorschach is the only one who refuses to keep quiet and his stubbornness leads to his death by Dr. Manhattan. However, the truth is still in Rorschach's personal journal so who knows how long Adrian's forced peace lasts.

7. Thomas Arashikage/Storm Shadow (G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra)

"Now you will die without a word."

I don't know why but I loved Storm Shadow, but I did have one slight problem. Why on Earth would he wait until he literally dies by Snake Eye's hand to reveal to the other ninja that he wasn't the one that killed their master? That was the only reason Snake Eyes considered him an enemy! And the only reason he took that vow of silence in the first place! Even if he didn't kill his master, he definitely felt some type of way about him favoring this random white kid who showed up so maybe he was still bitter about that and wanted Snake Eyes to think he was the killer. Either way, he was a dangerous foe, probably killing the most people out of everyone in the film. Oh, and did anyone else notice he had the world's first fidget spinner? Because I sure did.

6. John Connor (Terminator Salvation)

"I'll be back."

John Connor has finally shaped into the man Skynet feared he'd be, a leader of the Resistance. He has become a beacon of hope and is always looked upon during times of great stress by his peers, no doubt because of his calm and collected personality he's developed over the years at war. With his mother's tapes to guide him, John ends up doing his best to find his future father, Kyle Reese. He ends up doing so with the help of Marcus Wright, a hybrid human-machine. At first, since he hasn't been told about him by anyone from his future, John doesn't trust him, but when it appears the man is in control of the machine, John teams up with him to rescue Kyle and the other humans from Skynet. In the rescue mission, John comes face to face with The Terminator, who nearly kills him by wounding him to close to the heart. It's Marcus's sacrifice that ends up saving him and allowing him to continue on and lead the resistance against the machines.

5. Logan/Wolverine (X-Men Origins: Wolverine)

"You wanted the animal, Colonel. You got it."

Wolverine is back and this time we get all, or at least most, of the questions to his passed answered. When did he discover his powers? When he killed his father for killing the man he THOUGHT was his actual father. How did he get involved with Stryker? He joined his team of mutants along with his brother, Victor. When Logan didn't want to kill innocent people, he ditched. How did he get his metal claws? Victor shows up and 'kills' Kayla, Logan's girlfriend at the time, so Logan goes to Stryker to put him in the Weapon X program so he can have the adamantium in his skeleton. His biggest struggle is staying on the line between man and animal. It's hard when he ends up fighting almost every character (like the Blob, Agent Zero, and Gambit) and literally fights in every American War since the Civil War. Of course it's discovered Kayla didn't actually die and was working for Stryker but his feelings are still there for her so he keeps his grudge on Victor, defeating him without giving in to his animal side. The biggest threat in the end is Weapon XI, an uber-powered Deadpool. Once he's defeated, the last remaining question is answered. How does Logan lose his memory? Stryker shoots him in the head twice with adamantium bullets and it's only because he's young and his shape that his healing powers saved him. All in all not the greatest origin story but it's the first of a great trilogy with Logan centered on the front lines.

4. Laurie Jupiter/Silk Spectre II (Watchmen)

"I am not afraid."

Laurie had the biggest arc, for me, in this movie. She still puts up with her bitter mother despite disapproving the women's fondness to the Comedian, a man that tried to rape her. She also struggles with her relationship with Dr. Manhattan, who's omniscient persona really puts a strain on them both. She leaves him after reuniting with Daniel, the second Nite Owl. I think in the end she wanted someone who would give their full attention to her when it counted, which is something Daniel was able to do. Back in the crime fighting life, she teams up with Daniel and Rorschach to stop Adrian from destroying the world. In order to do so, she has to confront Dr. Manhattan to get him to help, which ends up with her finding out The Comedian is her real father. Even though she's distressed about it, it gets Jon to help, but they end up being too late. When everything is said and done, Laurie forgives her mother and continues fighting crime with Daniel.

3. Blair Williams (Terminator Salvation)

"I saw a man, not a machine."

Blair Williams is one of the best pilots working for John and the resistance who teams up with Marcus after the pair try to rescue Kyle and Star from the machine gatherers. After taking care of a group of bandits, the pair end up getting close with each other as Blair leads him back to headquarters. During their travels Blair assures Marcus that he's a good guy and that all humans deserve a second chance as long as they want one. When it's discovered Marcus is part machine, Blair sees the human in him and decides to betray the resistance and rescue him. After John forgives her, she ends up flying the plan that rescues them from Skynet Headquarters before it explodes. She grows feelings for Marcus so she's a little upset when he offers to give his heart to John so the other could live, but understands that this is his second chance.

2. Jon Osterman/Dr. Manhattan (Watchmen)

"The world's smartest man poses no more threat to me than it's smartest termite."

The most powerful man on Earth, Jon got his powers as Dr. Manhattan from a freak accident in his lab. With the body of Adonis and powers such as teleporting, flight, multiplying, and growing the size of a titan, there's rare limitations to Jon, which makes him the biggest asset to the United States military. He ends the war with Vietnam by himself and helps Adrian create a world ran by clean energy, but he does have his faults. For one, he treated his ex-girlfriend like shit before he left her for Laurie, who he also failed to care for like she needed him to. However, it's her breakup that makes him give up on humanity and run off to a distant planet. He refuses to help save the world until he discovers the miracle in Laurie's birth, but he ends up too late to save the world from Adrian. When Adrian's plan to bring world peace actually does work, Dr. Manhattan agrees to take the blame so that the peace can remain. He ends up having to kill Rorschach to keep him quiet before saying his goodbyes to Laurie and leaving for another universe.

1. Marcus Wright (Terminator Salvation)

"I am human."

From the beginning I couldn't help but want to to root for this guy. As soon as he wakes up from the future he befriends Kyle and Star and looks after them. He shows Kyle a lot of tricks for survival that the other eventually takes with him when he goes back in time. When the pair get snatched, Marcus tries his best to rescue them, making it his mission to save two people he barely knows. He doesn't think he's a good person, because of what he did in his past, but as Blair points out, he's doing good things now, which is what matters. Even when he discovers he's a machine and that Skynet created him to accomplish John Connor's death, he doesn't give in and proves his human side is in control by helping John rescue everyone. In his final act of redemption, Marcus sacrifices himself by giving his heart to John so that the other could live. With a goodbye kiss from Blair, he dies knowning that he got his second chance at being a good person.

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Interview with Elmer Ramos

Although every one of us is unique and has a specific visual voice, Elmer’s work is truly unlike anything we’ve seen in Square Carousel previously. His exploration into the middle-ground between representational and nonrepresentational art carries a lot of power, via very strong uses of color and shape. We can’t wait to see how he incorporates this experiment into his visual-problem-solving for Square Carousel. Keep reading for more of Elmer’s thought-provoking answers.

”The Fuck”

Q: I love that your work is often open to interpretation, ambiguous, yet somewhat narrative, Elmer. How did you evolve into this style of art, when those concepts are often conflicting?  A: As an illustrator I love telling stories, the more eccentric they are, the more unpredictable they become. During my transition from working strictly with ink and graphite to color monotypes and collage, my process on developing a narrative became more ambiguous. I discovered that by giving a shape some resemblance to a known-object while still keeping them a mystery, allowed for the viewer to wonder what it is or what the story is about. Think of it as a Rorschach test, testing your personality and emotional connections to what you see or what you think you see.

“An Honest Capture”

Q: Tell us about how your work bridges the gap between representational and nonrepresentational.  A: I am interested in the idea of one thing seeming or becoming another. I like to get my ideas from looking at coffee stains, clouds and abstract paintings. As I mentioned previously, like a Rorschach test. I get to examine my personality and emotional relationship to a particular idea or subject. When creating narrative work, I like to give the viewer a hint of what might be happening by using a representational shape but I also leave parts open for interpretation which are the non-representational parts. I look at Kara Walker's silhouette work often, because she can take a large white wall and create an entirely new story by just using the same silhouettes and shapes. You should definitely look at her work. The idea of working representational and nonrepresentational is just another way for me to be able to walk the line between fine art and illustration. In illustration you want to communicate the visual message immediately and in fine art you want to hold the viewer a bit longer, to have them wander into the painting.

“Collage Narrative Representationals and Nonrepresentational”

Q: Explain your process, from start to finish. Step 1: Color Mixing I start off my pieces by selecting a group of colors that work well together. I often consider the magic 3’s, the dominant colors, subdominant colors and the subordinate, or as others refer to as the shadows, midtones and highlights. I use Johannes Itten’s Contrast of Extension when I am developing the palate. This is also considered when I am creating my compositions in order to maintain a balanced and harmonious composition.

Elmer’s drying monotypes, in progress Step 2: Monotype Printing Once the colors are mixed, I use a large printmaking roller to create the color gradients that are going to be printed on eastern paper. These are the monotypes.  Once I am done printing them they are placed to dry for 2 days. 

Elmer’s rice-pasted monotypes, in progress Step 3: Rice Paste After the oil based ink has dried for about two days they get two coats of rice paste in the back and are laid out flat on a large sheet of plexi and left to dry for an hour. I usually have multiple sheets going at once to make the best of the time creating an inventory of colors.

The shape-cutting stage, in progress

Step 4: Compositions During the composition stage this is when I slow down a bit and start thinking about what I am creating and what is the message I am going for, or who I am creating for. The nice part about creating collaged compositions is that nothing is set-in until I know the compositions are done. I usually work on multiple works at the same time in order to be more efficient with my time. 

Shapes, waiting to be placed

Mounting, in progress

Step 5: Mounting Once the compositions are ready and all the shapes have been carefully cut out, I soak the substrate that the cut-outs are gonna go on, usually western printmaking paper. Paper soaks for no less than 5 minutes the paper is pulled from the soaking tub, blotted, laid on the press, lay-out all of my cut out collage pieces creating my composition, and run it through an etching press. The etching press joins the monotype cut-out with the western sheet. The water from the western paper activated the glue on the eastern paper, making them adhered to one another. They then sit to dry for another day using a stack of davey boards to remove moisture from the soaked paper.

Q: What would be your ideal application of this work, within a career?

A: I believe that the collaged pieces lend themselves pretty nicely to advertising and editorial work and that's where I want to continue heading.

I am a big fan of the New Yorker’s spot illustrations and that's another thing that I would love to do is somehow create just spot illustrations using my collage pieces. But I also have a passion for creating logos and vector work which is funny because vector and collage work, as you know, have sharp edges. I like the clean sharp look, that's the reason why I don't print directly onto the printmaking paper. I like to mount because printing will still give you a fuzzy edge, it's very minimal but I am very uncompromising about what I do and so that's why I think collaging gives me that nice sharp edge that I wouldn't be able to get with anything else. Q: What is your favorite project to have ever completed, and why?

A: I have no idea to be honest… I remember two projects way back before the my transition to collage work. They were both for local businesses. One was for Foxy Loxy Print Gallery and Cafe and the other was for Perc Coffee Roasters in Savannah. I don’t become emotionally attached to my work. It’s a business. My biggest reward is having people react to the work in some way. Sometimes, I see people wearing a shirt I designed downtown and that is when I become emotional. Hahaha.

“Foxy Loxy”

Q: You also have a fantastic sense of color and gradients within your portfolio. Do you derive that palette from any specific inspiration?

A: I do have a good idea of what color schemes work well together, I like to follow Johannes Itten’s color theory on color contrast. After learning about Itten’s theory I discovered that the colors I tend to choose, refer to the Contrast by Extension color palate. In this color palate you are trying to maintain a good balance of colors to achieve harmony. You should check his theories out as well. I also studied much of Hans Hoffman’s color theory on the push and pull using color. I also spend a lot of time mixing colors back when I worked in a commercial printing studio. Clients always want that seafoam green that no one ever makes. It always has to be mixed. Arrrgg.. I am also inspired by color blends that are found in nature such as sunrises, sunsets, and stormy afternoons, or just color blends from a field at a distance, i believe we relate to them easier. Another approach is, what I call, the nursery color scheme. Which pretty much means that, I like to mix colors that you would find in a newborn's nursery. That’s another thing, I love kids and it is amazing how their imagination has no limitations. I usually say a kids imagination has no gravity, anything is possible. If you are ever having a creative block, sit with a 5 year old and come up with a story with them.

“Garibaldi’s Cemetery”

Q: Who are your greatest influences?

A: I would say that my greatest influence comes from Julien Pacaud, a French illustrator who does digital collage work and uses really beautiful gradients in his work. I just can't get enough of his work! He is the artist I have been following for such a long time and still continue to be intrigued by his work. He creates atmospheric perspectives and somehow has a way of playing with scale to the point where it makes sense somehow. I would say this is the direction, I want my work to go. I also look at Kara Walker's work for the erratic narrative pieces arranged in a certain way that provides multiple representations or non- representational narratives. I am a fan of vector art and logo designs, so I look at Aaron Draplin, from Draplin Design Co, when I am doing more design type of work.

Q: If you had to choose between always saying what's on your mind, and never being able to speak again, which would you pick, and why? A: I would say that I would choose to never being able to speak again, because I often think about how I’d much rather spend my time expressing my thoughts through my work instead of talking about it. Sometimes when I try to talk and explain my work to someone, the right words won’t come out, so I end up leaving them with a misconception of what my work is about. I also get in trouble when I open my mouth. hahaha. I am bilingual, my first language is Spanish, and sometimes words are just jumbled up in both languages that I have to find another way to explain what I am trying to say. That’s probably why I am an Illustrator.

Elmer’s workspace  Q: What's your favorite food?

A:  My favorite food is anything I don’t have to cook. I just love to eat. I would say my guilty pleasure is eating out, burgers, asian fusion, and pizza. Luckily I have a partner that is an amazing cook and loves to cook. So I tend to eat pretty healthy most of the time. But every now and then I treat myself. Q: Tell us your biggest quirk, while working.

A: My biggest quirk, is having a clean and big table to work on. If I don't have enough space to lay out my paper to create the compositions, I cannot make work. Sometimes I end up spending more time cleaning than creating. I also prefer working in large spaces, and if I don't have a large table, I just lay out rolls of newsprint on the floor and lay my prints out that way and create my compositions that way. I have this crazy idea in my head that if the space I work in is bigger, bigger ideas will come. 

Elmer, enjoying springtime

Q: Anything else you would like the readers to know? A:  The road to being an artist is never-ending, and when you think you’ve figured everything out, more things pop-up. The fun part of it all is the journey of creating and discovering new things. I always think that I'm going to be set on a specific “style” or medium but I just love everything and I am influenced by everything so much. At any point anything can change and switch, so it's okay to like everything and not try to hold yourself down to just one style although for marketing purposes it's really good to just have one style. Always take advice with a grain of salt because no one knows what is going in inside your head other than you.  Can’t get enough? Check out Elmer’s portfolio website here.

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BELLETRIST: What advice do you have for people who have not yet married or who want to be married but aren't?  DANI:  I fear I’m a bit of an expert on this, having been married twice before I married M..  I wanted to be married — particularly in my twenties — because there was some idea I had that this would help settle my life, make me clearer to myself. Of course this makes no sense, but it was how I felt. I wanted a husband because having a husband would ground me. Instead, I married the wrong man (twice) and each time, I felt less clear to myself, less settled. During my brief second marriage I had daily panic attacks, but didn’t know why. I wasn’t being true to myself. And I wasn’t patient.  We all want a crystal ball, it’s part of the human condition, but we don’t get to see the future. I couldn’t have known that there would be a moment, at the age of thirty-four, when I would feel that sense of there you are.  It’s no accident, though, that the moment came when my life was in an undramatic, quiet, patient place, and I had spent some time getting to know myself and what mattered to me. BELLETRIST: You say you've been drawn to the marriages and work of literary couples. We also find ourselves drawn to such people and their work. We think if we look deep enough or long enough clues will begin to emerge. What to do. What not to do. We find flattering similarities and relish in where we feel our relationship is stronger. How ours is 'better'. Why do you think we are always looking for ourselves in other peoples’ relationships? DANI: I think we do this kind of comparing not only with literary couples, but really with couples in general. With people in general. I remember once, years ago, I went on a three day silent meditation retreat, and while there, I began to see what was going on in the noise in my mind — and what was going on very often was comparing.  Am I up? Am I down? Is this person doing better than I am in some way? Is that person miffed at me?  It went on and on, this comparing. Horrifyingly so! But it was a tremendous lesson too, in the uselessness of that kind of mental chatter. It’s human nature, but good to try to harness.  When it comes to literary couples, there is such a paper trail… so often there are clues in their work, or interviews, or journals.  M. and I got to know Rose and Bill Styron in the years before Bill died.  Also, Ellen and Frank McCourt.  There was a tremendous tenacity to both relationships.  I think one difference between “literary” couples and other relationships is precisely that public paper trail.  Perhaps Hourglass is my way of controlling that paper trail (this is just occurring to me at this very moment!) so that it’s crafted and turned into a work of art. It’s natural to look for ourselves in other people’s relationships, and either pat ourselves on back, or resolve to do better.  What other ways do we have to learn?  

BELLETRIST: "Show me your search histories and I will show you your obsessions." This does not bode well for millennials & is absolutely true! What was a pre-internet Rorschach test? Other than a Rorschach test, of course.  DANI: Haha, that’s such a great question. There have always been obsessions, and there have always been unconscious ways of cataloging those obsessions.  As a teacher of writing I also tell my students that if you show me a writer’s oeuvre, I will show you that writer’s obsessions.  Theme is just a fancy word for obsession.  If you read my body of work, you’ll know that I am consumed by questions about secrets in families, the power of the unsaid. And, of course, time and memory.  But I do think that search histories make anything that’s come before pale in comparison.  I mean, you could empty someone’s wallet, or purse, and learn a lot about them.  You could rifle through someone’s closets and know quite a bit about what makes them tick.  It’s the stuff that’s beneath the ways we curate ourselves. The contents of drawers and whatever is under the bed. Search histories are just that on warp speed. 

BELLETRIST: You quote Mary Midgley "We are each not only one but also many" we love this because we feel we are different people to everyone in our lives. We've always felt that you choose the person to spend your life with partly based on loving the person you are when you're with them. We also think you have to like the way they look at you both literally and metaphorically. Do you think some relationships end because you no longer want to be seen the way they see you? Maybe when you no longer fit the person they've made you out to be?  DANI: That was a central preoccupation for me while I was writing Hourglass — the knowledge that two people simply must grow at different rates, and what happens when one path swerves away from another’s — and what you’re getting at here is an even deeper evocation of that.  When we, over a period of years, come to see ourselves differently, or even become different, and that doesn’t jibe with the original tacit agreement or pact (or vows)— what do we do about that? I do believe that’s where some relationships falter and fail. Like, wait a minute, this isn’t what I signed up for. You’ve changed. I feel enormously grateful that M. and I have continued to respect and like the people we’ve become.  Not every minute, maybe not every day, but most of the time that’s what we return to. And perhaps it’s also the sense that the people we’ve become have been shaped by one another. When he looks at me, he sees not only the Dani of today, but the Dani he met, and each Dani in between. And I, for him.  No one else will ever be able to do that, for either of us. There’s beauty in that.

BELLETRIST:  How do you know? How do you know that M. is right for you? Is it a daily thing that you know or did you make the decision a long time ago? DANI: The sense that M. was right for me, from the very beginning, did not feel like a decision, but rather, like a deep-in-my-bones intuition. It was something I had never felt before. Oh, I had talked myself into relationships — told myself that it was a good idea, or that someone was good on paper (god save us from “good on paper!”)  but when those words, there you are, entered my mind upon meeting M., they were unmistakable because they weren’t thought — they were known.  And ever since that first meeting, it has been a daily thing. I’ve never questioned it, even when things are rough.  He’s my person.  BELLETRIST: What is something in your life that could have happened but didn't? DANI: It could have happened that my dad had lived long enough to see me thrive and succeed in my life. But he died in a car accident when I was twenty-three, so he never knew the grown-up me, and the grown-up me never had a chance to make him proud.  That’s a could-have, a sad one.  An incredibly joyful one is that my son, who was very sick as an infant, had the odds stacked against him, and he recovered. When I look at the gorgeous person he is today, sometimes my eyes sting with tears of gratitude. Jane Kenyon has a beautiful poem titled “Otherwise” and I think of these words: “It could have been otherwise.” BELLETRIST: Enlighten us...how do you become comfortable with what you used as the epigraph of your book -- letting yourself fall. Has it been true, for you, that the person you have become has always caught you.  DANI: It’s true that the person I am now is able to catch me. Certainly not the person I always was. I think perhaps we need to allow ourselves to grow into the people who can become the ones who will catch us.  

BELLETRIST:  Do you believe in "soul mates" ? DANI: I believe that there are people in our lives with whom we have a soul connection: these can be friends, teachers, partners… all kinds of people we encounter over the course of our lives. There’s a recognition when this happens, a familiarity, an ease.  I try to be open to feeling it when it occurs.  Though I’m not religious, one of my favorite prayers, a Hebrew Sabbath prayer, begins this way: “Days pass, years vanish, and we walk sightless among miracles.” When we encounter someone with whom we feel that soul connection, it is a miracle, I think. And good to take note of it.  BELLETRIST: In your book you use this refrain - It could have happened. / It had to happen in regards to M. choosing to live a (arguably) less dangerous, more domestic life with you. And then you ask, we think rhetorically, "Has being with me stopped him from being him?"  Was that one of the harder questions you had to ask yourself when writing this book? Do you ever, in real life, dare answer it? DANI: That semi-rhetorical question is in many ways at the heart of Hourglass, and was like a painful, sharp, nearly invisible sliver of glass that pierced me each time I touched it. In writing the book, I was asking the question of both of us, in a way. How have we changed each other, and how have our lives changed as a result of the decision to be together?  Have we become more — or less — ourselves?  In many ways I think these are questions all couples must come up against, time and time again, over the course of a long relationship.  And perhaps asking these questions of each other, and of ourselves, is a part of how we grow.  

As for daring to ask it, in real life, I think the answer is probably yes and no.  M. has become more himself, and less of another kind of self, as a result of being with me.  As have I, after all these years of being with him.  I feel certain of one thing, which is that neither of us would trade it, even in the moments of pain, or anger, or disappointment.  That was another impetus in writing Hourglass — I wanted to really think about that beauty of staying and being formed by another human being, the way water forms rock over time.   BELLETRIST: Disregarding the fact that you're a writer who writes books for a living... why do you, Dani, think it's important to read? We ask this of all of our favorite writers! DANI: Reading is an exercise in empathy.  To read is to enter another world in a way different from any other art form. The reader is actively participating, activating the pages of a book simply by picking it up and beginning.  We discover through reading that we are less alone, as the inner lives of characters on the page become accessible to us.  No matter how foreign or different a life experience might be, the writer is always saying to the reader, and the reader to the writer,  me too.  I’ve been there too.  

[comepraisetheinfanta]

first lines meme

I was tagged by @actuallylorelaigilmore ^_^

rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories. see if there are any patterns. then tag your favorite authors. 

tagging these talented people: @missanthropicprinciple @victorianoir and any mutuals who write fanfic (I didn’t tag some of you b/c I know you’ve been tagged before but if you want to go ahead and have another go ^_~)

PUBLISHED FICS:

1. THREE DAVIDS

There are three Davids.

Two of them don’t exist anymore, not really.

-= The First=-

The first David is the one Toby and his sisters try their hardest to protect, the one that is impossibly bright and not yet able to fight his own battles.

He can be annoying sometimes, this little puppy, always nipping at Toby’s heels, always wanting Toby’s attention and approval. Toby’s long-suffering sighs fool absolutely no one; they all see how he patiently teaches this David all the things he’ll need to know in the years to come. 

2. THE GODS HAVE CONSPIRED - PROLOGUE

Washington, D.C.

January 2038

Inauguration Day

A long time ago a friend of mine (though there was nothing amicable about our relationship at the time) told me what sort of man it took to be President.

“The man in that job shouldn’t have to be presented with anything!” he bellowed at me. “It’s for someone who grabs it and holds on to it, for someone who thinks the gods have conspired to bring him to this place, that destiny demands of him this service!”

3. KEEPING HIM SAFE

“Why does it feel like this? I’ve seen shootings before.”

Brooklyn - Summer 1965

  Ten year-old Toby Ziegler had spent the afternoon playing baseball with his sister Judith and her friends. Now that Toby was ten and the rest of them were about to enter High School they didn’t often let him play with them, but today they had relented and they had played until the sun had gone down.

   The twenty boys (and Judith, the only girl) had gathered their things and had split up to head home, with five of the boys making their way back home with Judith and Toby because they all lived on the same street

  They weren’t far from their street when shots rang out.

4. THE WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENT 

1966

Westport, CT

 Miriam Lyman heard the wooden floor behind her creak. She put her book aside and turned to look at the little boy she knew she would find, his walk and the sound it made was unmistakable. At five years old Joshua Lyman already swaggered; it was a walk befitting a child who was his family’s little prince, spoiled and adored by all.

  In his small hands there was a large leather bound book.

 "What have you got there, Joshua?“

  “It’s one of your scrapbooks, Nana,” he said, lifting the book higher in order to give his grandmother a better look.

5. WHILE NORMAN SLEPT

New York City

December 1995

  With a quick flick of the wrist, Joshua Lyman, Esq. tossed his subway token. And, with the impatience of a highly-strung racehorse, he waited to hear the click that always followed the sound of his token clattering against a metal surface, the click that told him that he could push the turnstile and dash full speed toward the subway train.

6. INKBLOTS

  Josh is having a difficult time staying connected to what is going on around him. He wants to be aware of his surroundings, to be able to call out for help. But all he can think about as sirens wail and red lights flash is how hard it is to breathe, how much his chest hurts, and how much the blood on the concrete looks like an inkblot.  

 His mind begins to wander through memories dulled by time, made hazier by the pain.

 Rorschach. It’s a funny name, like one of Joanie’s composers.

 Rorschach.

  -schach, like Bach.

7. AN INVITATION

Late May 1987

Westport, Connecticut

Rachel Abravanel felt her bed dip beneath her and she groaned.

“Buenos dias, Rahelica,” said the distinctly deep voice Rachel usually found comforting, but that today brought back memories of the rare days she hadn’t wanted to go to school and her father would have to coax her out of bed.

“Dad,” she whined without making a move to free herself from her cocoon of blankets.

Rachel’s father responded with a low chuckle.

8. IT’S QUIET UPTOWN

November 18, 1969

It was Noah Lyman’s first day back at work since his daughter’s death.

The firm had been extremely sympathetic, had told him to take as much time off as he needed. They’d promised to farm his cases out, everything would be taken care of.

His colleagues felt guilty despite Joanie’s death being no fault of theirs; Noah and Ada had been at a dinner party for the partners and their wives the night it happened after all. 

9. PROMISES

  Ryan Pierce speed-walked past desks, flipped through papers, and managed to avoid crashing into any of the support staff that zipped by.

  Ryan had news for the President-elect on the people they had been vetting for Senior Staff positions. The majority of them had worked for the campaign and had made it through a round of vetting for their campaign jobs so it hadn’t taken long to make sure there weren’t any skeletons deeper in the closets of people who were going to be working in the White House.

10. SHIVA IN THE WHITE HOUSE - Ryan

Washington D.C. - 2043

  Ryan Pierce rounded up the most trusted members of the Senior Staff and told them that their jobs were going to be a little harder for the next few days and that he expected them to rise to the occasion. There would be no setting of fires that would require the President to put out, they would make sure that the West Wing continued to run like a well-oiled machine. Ryan was willing to move heaven and earth to make sure nothing ended up on the President’s literal and figurative desk unless it absolutely needed to.

11. SHIVA IN THE WHITE HOUSE - Sam’s Revelation 

Maryland - 2043

Sam and Toby were sitting in a secluded corner of Andy’s backyard. He’d come directly to Andy’s from the airport with Ainsley. Sam’s two Secret Service agents were parked in front of the house and Ainsley was in the living room with CJ, Andy, and the rest of Toby’s family.

 Toby had known that there was something on his friend’s mind the moment he’d seen him so he dragged him outside and away from everyone else as fast as his old joints would allow, and had waited patiently for whatever it was that was eating away at Sam to come out.

 “I loved him,” Sam whispered, half to himself, as if the statement was more for Sam’s own benefit than Toby’s.

—————

WIPs:

I don’t really have any other published stuff (nothing I’m particularly keen to share) but I do have a my massive af WEST WING vignette collection The Gods Have Conspired currently in progress. The following are excerpts from the beginnings of vignettes I’m working on for that collection.

————–

12.

The Catskills   1966

Several heads turn when Felix appears by the pool. He’s wearing short teal swim trunks that show off his long lean legs, a towel that hangs from his neck obscures most of his chest but a small gleaming Star of David, which hangs from a gold chain is visible in its nest of sparse chest hair, catches peoples’ eyes and makes them wonder what the rest of his chest looks like and hope that he’ll toss the towel off soon. Felix cuts a handsome figure. He’s no strapping David hewn from marble but there is something of a classical handsomeness to him, the contrapposto pose he assumed as he took in his surroundings was certainly giving the girls at the pool ideas.

 13.

2060

  “So, what's it like being a Lyman?” the young bikini-clad woman asked Josh*.

  “Honestly? It's a pain in the ass.”

  “Oh,” his companion responded, not expecting that answer at all. “But like, everyone loves your family, you guys are like a huge deal.”

 “Yeah, but there are certain things Lymans are supposed to do. Like,  just about my entire family is in politics, you know? And that’s not what I want to do with my life. I mean fuck, my mom is an actress and even she’s really involved in political shit. My grandfather was president, my great-great-grandfather was president, so what, I wasn’t around for any of that so why the fuck should anyone expect me to be involved?”

[*This isn’t Josh Lyman DCoS to Bartlet and CoS to Santos, this is another Josh Lyman entirely ^_~]

14.

200?

“Joshua Lyman, you told me you hated cats!”

Josh cocked his head and raised an eyebrow.

“I do.”

“Well you didn’t always hate them,” she replied, waving the picture she had found in front of him. “What’s that you’ve got in your arms?”

Josh snatched the picture from Donna’s grasp.

“That’s Heifetz,” he said as he looked at his smiling five year old self cradling the grey cat like a baby, the cat looking almost indulgent and completely used to being handled by a rough-and-tumble little boy.

15.

2043

   “I never thought- that in my lifetime-”

  “Dad, don’t you dare jinx it or I will make you go outside turn around, spit, curse, and whatever else you are supposed to do, I don’t care how old you are. We’re not done yet, and you are already trying to jinx it.”

  “To have even gotten this far, _____.”

 “Well, leave it to the Jewish President to shake things up in Israel,” _____ said, after flashing his father a cocky grin that made him look like a teenager instead of a middle-aged man.

16.

“Bee. Bee, bee, bee, bee, bee,” Zach shouted.

  “No Zachary, it is To-by, can you say To-by?”

  “Bee!”

  “Just give up, Tobus. He’s gonna be calling you that even after you quit fighting it,” CJ said. “Isn’t that right little man?”

   “Jay!” Zach shouted, raising his arms up toward CJ, his way of asking to be picked up.

 “While you’re busy being a grump over the name ‘Bee’ I am going to embrace the name I’ve been given by my diminutive pal,” CJ said as she lifted Zach up on began bouncing him on her lap, much to his delight.

17.

 ______ ran his hands up his wife’s sides and rested his thumbs under her breasts.

  Annie suddenly went rigid on top of _______.

  “Oh my god, my grandparents had sex in this room.”

  “What?”

  “My grandparents, they had sex. In this room.”

  “Yeah, well I am sure they’ve changed the mattress and sheets since then, even if it is the same bed frame,” _______ said with his attempt at an innocent smile.

  “______ ______!” Annie shouted as she grabbed a pillow and hit her husband with it.

“Ow, Annie, you’re hitting the President of the United States!”

18.

Beginning of 4th year of Seaborn Administration

  Josh Lyman had run as fast as his body would allow from the security check-in desk to the office outside the Oval.

  “Ainsley?”

  “Hello, Josh. You alright there?”

  “Yeah, I just need to catch my breath.”

  Ainsley nodded.

  “He’s in the situation room right now,” Ainsley informed him.

  “D’you know what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know much, I just know what they’ve been reporting in the news.”

 “Which really isn’t much, is it?”

  “No.”

 There was very little the news was able to reveal at this point, the rioters were making it hard for any foreign correspondents to get close to the embassy.

19.

Germany 1945 Jakob tried to steady himself when he felt his legs begin to weaken and threatened to give way underneath him.

He felt his chest begin to tighten and he found himself forced to lean up against the wall. He had managed to get through so much in the last several weeks without letting his emotions get the better of him but he could no longer keep up the pretense that he wasn’t affected by what he saw. The city of his birth in ruins.

It was impossible for him not to be conflicted, his liberators had been left with no options, and so his beloved city had had to pay the price for the sins of its inhabitants; it had to become a shell of its former self, a daily reminder of his neighbors’ transgressions.

20.

2066

~“Wild child full of grace Savior of the human race”~

“They love you to the moon and back, you know,” Margaret says.

“Huh?”

“Your parents, Jonathan, Abbey Rose, the whole family. They love you.”

Josh doesn’t say anything, he decides to stare at the IV port taped to his hand.

She’s so nonchalant about it, just throws it out there while skipping a marble across a chinese checkers board.

-=-=-=-=–

Ok… so patterns… I use way too many commas, I often state the year (because I’m a history nerd through and through and I love to skip around to different times in my massive epics). I lowkey feel like Sophia from Golden Girls… “picture it: Sicily 1922″ hahahaha. I don’t seem to open with dialogue in my finished drafts but my WIPs usually open with dialogue. I’m too tired and lazy to keep looking for patterns ;-P

[demon-animatronic]

Never Would I Ever - Chapter 2

Finally got around to doing chapter 2! I have another story in mind involving a murder at a high school taking place in-between “A Murder on Campus” and “Rorschach Reaper” but I don’t know if I’ll post it as a reader insert or at all. 

Chapter 2 -

Jones and I were interrogating Tess in the interrogation room. Everything was going normal until Tess took a pendulum out. She began to wave it in his face and began saying weird things like:

“But you wouldn't know about being brilliant, would you, Officer Jones? (Your Rank) (Y/N)’s dog, always following, always praising, always failing...It's unbearable, isn't it?”

“Living in (Your Rank) (Y/N)’s shadow, being endlessly scolded for failing to meet their standards... So much frustration, Officer Jones...It has to stop, hasn‘t it? It can't go on forever, it has to stop now. Now and forever. And there's only one thing to do. The right thing.”

Then Jones proceeded to say pretty clearly;

“The right... thing... to do…”

That’s when Jones got up and took his gun out. I tried talking him out of it, giving Ramirez time to run in and knock him out with a frying pan before he could pull the trigger.

Once we knew he was out cold and Ramirez grabbed his gun, Tess became angry, stating how my death, her masterpiece, was ruined.

We decided it was best to stop the interrogation there and lock her up in a holding cell until the trial. We also double checked and made sure she didn’t have anything, like another pendulum, on her so she couldn’t hurt anyone again.

Afterwards, we went back and checked on Jones. Now knowing that Tess hypnotized the murderers of Rani Goshwalla, Lisa Edwards, and Aaliyah Banks into doing what they did. And attempted to do the same with Jones by manipulating him into killing me.

Fortunately, Ramirez was there to save us both. 

Jones mouth was open in shock. He couldn’t believe what he had read. It was definitely his partner’s handwriting and a obvious statement about what happened.

“No. There is no way I did that…I could never do that to my partner!” Jones growled quietly to himself as he put the paper and file away.

Leaving the room, he went to look for Ramirez and ask what happened during the trial since he missed it.

“Ramirez!” Jones called as he walked up to him, stopping Ramirez from entering the bullpen.

“Hey, Jones!” Ramirez stopped and turned to him.

“Can I ask you something?” Jones asked, seeming curious.

“Sure.” Ramirez nodded.

“What happened during Tess Goodwin’s trial?” Jones asked.

“Why do you want to know?” Ramirez questioned.

“Just curious.” Jones shrugged.

“Oh…well…” Ramirez thought for a moment. “She was kind of creepy… I still shudder whenever I think about that smile she gave (Y/N) as she was led out of the courtroom.”

“What did she say or do during it?” Jones asked.

“She mentioned how you were going to snap one day and kill (Y/N) and that they had to be cautious whenever they approach you.” Ramirez blurted out by accident. “BUT they have nothing to worry about.”

“Really?” Jones said shocked, as he felt sweat come from his forehead and he laughed nervously. “You’re right. There’s nothing to worry about because I would never kill them.”

“Exactly. Can we forget about this conversation?” Ramirez asked, hopefully.

“Sure.” Jones nodded. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course.” Ramirez said and headed towards his desk while Jones headed towards his own.

Jones did feel a little better after being told what was said during court and felt even better knowing that there really wasn’t anything to worry about. He wasn’t going to hurt his partner. Not now, not ever.

“Please don’t ask me about it.” You said as you glanced up and saw Jones sit down at his desk again.

“I’m not.” Jones smiled. “Like you said, it‘s in the past. Let‘s move forward.”

“Why’d you change your mind about it?” You questioned, looking at him.

“I realized that there isn’t anything to worry about. Tess is dead and you already know I won’t ever hurt you.” Jones replied, starting to do his own paperwork.

“I’m happy to hear you realized it.” You smiled and focused on your own.

“Yeah. So how has your day been?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Not bad.” You replied. “And you?”

“I’m just realizing how much paperwork I have…”

“That’s what happens when you wait on it.” You chuckled.

“Yeah whatever.” Jones rolled his eyes.

“Anyway…” You trailed off.

---- That Night ----

“Ah, here we are at last, (Your Rank) (Y/N). Did you like my little game? I sure enjoyed it!” Tess smirked from across the table. “So you're our killer, Tess. Or should we call you the Rorschach Reaper?” Jones questioned.

“Unimaginative name, but what can I do? No one asked for my opinion.” Tess rolled her eyes. “I must say, you've taken your time to catch me. You can even say I made you a favor. Had I not decided to kill Madison myself, you would have never known.”

“So why did you do it, Tess? Why kill all those people? Why influence other girls to do your dirty work? Why reveal yourself now?” Jones asked.

“I guess, in the end, everything boils down to one simple reason. What's the point of being brilliant if no one knows about it?” Tess continued to smirk as she brought her pendant out and began waving it in Jones‘ face.

“But you wouldn't know about being brilliant, would you, Officer Jones? (Your Rank) (Y/N)’s dog, always following, always praising, always failing...It's unbearable, isn't it?” She continued.

“What are you doing!?” You questioned her as you looked back and forth from her to Jones.

“Living in (Your Rank) (Y/N)’s shadow, being endlessly scolded for failing to meet their standards... So much frustration, Officer Jones...It has to stop, hasn‘t it?” She ignored me and continued.

“Jones…” You muttered, turning to him fully and watched as his eyes continued to follow her pendulum.

“It can't go on forever, it has to stop now. Now and forever. And there's only one thing to do. The right thing.” Tess said.

“The right... thing... to do…” Jones muttered before standing up and holding his gun at you

You got up too and brought your gun out on him. There was no way you were going to shoot him in a deadly way. But if push turns to shove, you felt you may have to give him a flesh wound in the shoulder if he doesn’t drop the gun and snap out of it.

“Jones, don’t.” You said, now worried. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Yes you do, Officer Jones.” Tess said. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“No it isn’t.” You said, shaking your head. “Jones, fight it. I know you can fight through her hypnotization. You’re stronger than her.”

“The right…thing…” He muttered and you saw him take his gun off of safety. Your eyes widened slightly.

Click

“Jones…” You breathed. “Please, buddy. Don’t let her win. Don’t let her ruin both of our lives. This isn’t how we’re suppose to end.”  

“Shut up!” Tess yelled and stood up. “Do the right thing, Jones! Ignore them and pull the trigger!”

“The…right thing…to do…” Jones muttered.

“Please…“ You begged. “…Dav-“

Bang!

Your back hit the wall behind you as you dropped your gun. You were still alive but your head was bleeding out and you were in a lot of pain.

Looking at Jones, you can see him smirking as he lowered his gun.

Feeling your head, you felt the wound on the side of your head. Forcing yourself up, you managed to look at the state of your injury in the mirror. Your heart sunk at the sight.

The bullet hit the corner of your eye and slid across the side of your head. Through the pain, you can tell your eye had no hope of being fixed. Sliding back down against the wall, you covered your head with one hand and looked at Jones and Tess. You could feel yourself start to pass out.

“Didn’t that feel great, Jones? Now they’ll slowly die as they think about how you were the one to pull the trigger.” Tess smirked, sitting back down.

“Jone….Jonesy….” You choked out, weakly, tears streaming down your face from the pain.

“That did feel great.” Jones said, raising his gun again. “Now I’m free from your shadow.” He smirked.

You looked at him, sadly.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered as he pulled the trigger again.  

Jones shot up in bed in cold sweat and breathing heavily.

Glancing at his clock, he saw it was 4:00 A.M. Wiping his face, he soon realized what he thought was sweat was actually tears.

“That was horrific…” Jones rubbed his face.

After contemplating for a few minutes, he decided to call you. He needed to hear your voice despite seeing you in a few hours.

Ring

Ring

Ring

“Please wake up, (Y/N).” Jones muttered quietly.

Ring

“…Hello?” You yawned as you were woken up to your phone going off.

“(Y/N)!” Jones said in relief. “Everything alright, Jones?” You questioned.

“NO! I mean… sort of…” Jones trailed off. “Hey, you sure you know I won’t ever hurt you?”

“Yes.” You stated.

“I mean, were not just partners, we’re best friends!” Jones continued.

“Jones.” You said.

“A team till the end.“ Jones replied.

“Jonesy…“ You trailed off.

“And to Hell and back!” Jones continued on.

“You had a nightmare, didn’t you?” You said, realizing that was why he woke you up at 4:00 A.M. Clearly afraid and freaking out.

“How do you know these things?” Jones questioned, curiously.

“Because I know my partner.” You smiled to yourself.

On the other end of the line, Jones smiled too.

“I don’t know what that nightmare may have been about, but everything is okay. I’m fine, you’re fine, Tess is dead, and we will see each other in a few hours completely alive and well.” You added.

“I guess… sorry for waking you up.” Jones said, feeling guilty.

“It’s alright, I was probably going to get up anyway. Just listen to me, alright?” You said.

“Okay?” Jones questioned.

“Stop thinking about that case. There’s no need to scare yourself into having nightmares.” You replied. “Okay.” Jones nodded to himself. “Will you ever tell me what happened from your side?”

“Maybe one day.” You replied. “I’ll see you in a few hours. Maybe you can try and get a little more sleep?”

“I’ll try but I doubt it.” Jones sighed. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” You said, frowning at the sadness and fear he still had in his voice.

“Bye.” He replied back before hanging up.

Jones laid back down and knew he definitely wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon.

Meanwhile, you knew the same and decided to get up and go for a early morning jog to clear your head.

--- At the station ---

Jones eventually stumbled into the bullpen a short time after you arrived. It was pretty obvious he didn’t get any more sleep.

“Jones.” You said, wheeling your chair towards him.

“Hey…” Jones turned to you.

“Need any help with the paperwork you have?” You asked. You had finished all of yours the day before.

“Yeah… sort of.” Jones rubbed his eyes, sleepily.

“Here, give me some and I’ll help you out.” You replied and he handed you a stack.

“Thanks, (Y/N).” Jones smiled.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled back and wheeled yourself back over to your own desk.

[duaneodavila]

Kopf: Footnote 239

As I told SHG sometime back, there is nothing sadder than an old judge trying desperately to remain relevant.

I come out of retirement, briefly, not endeavoring to remain relevant, but rather to complain about the use and characterization of one my past posts by the NACDL in its breathless report entitled, The Trial Penalty: The Sixth Amendment Right To Trial on the Verge of Extinction and How To Save It (Summer 2018).[i] I have no earthly understanding of why the NACDL ended with a footnote to one of my posts from Hercules and the umpire.

As I have written before on Simple Justice, I am not much concerned with the “vanishing federal criminal jury.” See Richard G. Kopf, Kopf: A Contrarian’s View of the Vanishing Federal Criminal Jury Trial (December 27, 2017). Indeed, I sometimes joke that jury trials are unconstitutional because no sane person would randomly select from the great unwashed 12 stiffs to make a decision that can significantly impact both the public and the defendant. Besides, criminal jury trials are almost always a waste of time. With few exceptions, federal criminal jury trials are the equivalent one long guilty plea where the defendant has rightly calculated that he or she has nothing to lose and is hoping to win the lottery. 

In a closely related vein, I am also not much concerned with the obsession of the NACDL about the so-called “trial penalty.”  As a normative matter, it makes perfect sense that people who fail to acknowledge their guilt should be treated more harshly than people who admit guilt. The question, of course, is how much harsher? The NACDL thinks “trial penalties” are too harsh and that they are applied unequally. OK, fine, the NACDL is entitled to its point of view. I’m OK with the status quo ‘cause most federal judges I know and respect are sensitive to the issues raised by the NACDL. Frankly, I am too bored with the subject to engage with the report writ large. I’ve heard and thought about that stuff before. It is old news.[ii]

But I want to bitch. That’s what old men do.

The last footnote in the report, footnote 239, cites to something I wrote.[iii]  I will first provide you with the context and then the footnote.

The Trial Penalty ends with what one expects from the closing argument of a certain segment of the criminal defense bar–that is, a rather badly reasoned appeal to emotion that does not meaningfully grapple with bad facts. Our subject this time is poor Christian Allmendinger. (My last name sucks too!)

Chris (I trust I am not being too familiar) and his partner Brent Oncale bilked people out of more than $50 million. Oncale cooperated and testified, and got 10 years later, reduced to 5 for cooperation. Allmendinger rolled the dice. He got hit with 45 years in prison.[iv]

And so, the NACDL writes, using Chris’s sad story very much as a conclusion, “locating a sentence ‘sufficient, but not greater than necessary’ can easily turn into an arbitrary task.239 In many cases, the excessive pull of the Guidelines prevents judges from meaningfully exercising their discretion under 3553(a).” The Trial Penalty, at p. 56.

Here is how footnote 239 is written:

It is possible[v] that judges find the 3553(a) factors complicated or even contradictory and so they opt to rely on the Guidelines range that has been calculated according to a defined and familiar formula. See “It’s Time To Rethink Or Junk Entirely 18 U.S.C. § 3553(a),” HERCULES AND THE UMPIRE, Blog by Judge Richard George Kopf, District of Nebraska (entry posted July 27, 2014) (expressing frustration that the 3553(a) factors “provide no meaningful guidance to the sentencing judge”), available at https://herculesandtheumpire.com/2014/07/.[vi]

Id. at 78.

Why my Herc post is cited is beyond me. It does not support the conclusion for which it is cited. It is almost as if the writer needed a filler and threw a dart at the internet to find one. Let me be more specific.

Yes, sentencing can “easily turn into an arbitrary task,” but it has little to do with “trial penalties” or the “excessive pull of the Guidelines.” I do not find the 3553(a) “factors too complicated.” I am certainly dull, but I am not quite a moron.

Let me be plain: Section 3553(a) is even more nuts than the results of a Rorschach test interpreted by a chiropractor with meth mouth. It compiles all the various goals of sentencing that scholars have worked so hard to develop as separate and distinct principle-based theories, throws them into a statute, and tells us to act like Goldilocks, “Ahhh, this porridge is just right.”[vii] The task is not “too complicated,” it is impossible.[viii] The NACDL blames the Guidelines when it is the statute that Congress passed that is the villain. The NACDL blames judges for failing to use their discretion while forgetting that one can only exercise informed discretion when the sought-after result of the exercise is evident to the decision maker.

If Congress wants me to engage in common-law judging, fine, then junk section 3553(a) completely. Yet, like Dr. David Banner, the NACDL wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.

If Congress wants retribution, merely tell me and, Sweet Baby Jesus, I will wield the guillotine.

If Congress wants me to concentrate on the offender’s life story, the probation officer and I can pretend to be social workers and do so with happy face emojis. (Although, to be frank [rather than jane], it is true that we would probably never really care.)

If Congress wants rehabilitation, then tell me and I will order RDAP and all the educational opportunities and vocational training that our massive federal deficit spending can supply.

If Congress wants incapacitation, tell me and life sentences will reign down upon those who are unspeakably vile even though the cause for their behavior is found in their genetics, the poverty in which they have been raised, the mental illnesses they suffer, or the sociopathic nature that propels them to prey upon the weak.[ix]

Rejecting the taunt hurled by José and his wife[x], I am not afraid to judge. I just want to know what the hell I am supposed to be judging. Applying section 3553(a) and the vaunted discretion of federal district judges, tell me, for example, how to sentence a very good man who has done a very bad thing? I dare you!

Now it is true that I rely upon the Guidelines and fairly heavily so. This is not because they are “calculated according to a defined and familiar formula”—the NACDL’s polite way of suggesting that judges like me lack a Yale education or are just plain lazy or cowardly. No, I rely upon the Guidelines for precisely the same reasons that the NACDL worries about “trial penalties” being unequally applied.

I rely upon the Guidelines because they slightly help to diminish, but certainly not entirely avoid, unwarranted sentencing disparity both between people in the same case and otherwise. Setting to one side the need to avoid sentencing disparity, the remainder of the section 3553(a) factors–because they are mixed together like the lunch ladies’ cafeteria offerings–amount to little more than free-floating anti-anxiety nostrums to be applied by woke judges as needed.

So, in summary, I have one piece of advice for the smart person who wrote and inserted footnote 239 into The Trial Penalty. In the future, fucking focus.

Richard G. Kopf Senior United States District Judge (Nebraska)

[i] The Trial Penalty mixes apples and oranges. It writes about both federal and state law. The two are obviously not interchangeable, but the report confusingly conflates the two.

[ii] In fact, I agree with some, but certainly not all, of the recommendations set forth in The Trial Penalty (at pp. 59-60). For example, I would not impose an obstruction enhancement merely because a defendant testified but was found guilty.

[iii] SHG tipped me off to the report and the footnote. Coincidentally, Jeff Kay, a now retired AUSA who served as Chief of the Economic Crimes Unit in SDFL, sent me a link to the report on the same day. Great minds and all. Since I was napping, I probably would have missed it. 

[iv] Not noted in the NACDL report was the opinion by Chief Judge Traxler that affirmed the sentence and found the differences in sentences as between Allmendinger, Oncale and one other to be warranted. United States v. Alemendinger, 706 F. 3d 330 (4th Cir. 2013). In that opinion, the Court addressed the difference between Allmendinger and others:

Counsel maintained that Allmendinger and Oncale were similarly situated and should receive similar sentences, and counsel reiterated his argument that the loss found by the court was much larger than Allmendinger could reasonably have foreseen.

In response, the government argued that Allmendinger and Oncale actually were not similarly situated, contrasting Oncale’s prompt cooperation after he was approached by investigators with Allmendinger’s continued evasion and attempts to hide and spend his money, and his possible intention to flee. The government stressed that Allmendinger’s crimes had far-reaching impact, had “destroyed countless lives,” and thus warranted a very severe sentence in order to deter those who would consider committing similar crimes. J.A. 2403. The government also noted that Mackert, who was not an architect of the fraud and who ended up with only $250,000 from his participation in the scheme, was sentenced to almost 16 years.

. . .

Here, the district court heard extensive argument from Allmendinger and the government concerning the extent to which Allmendinger was similarly situated to his co-conspirator Oncale. The district court’s lengthy explanation for the sentence imposed left no doubt regarding the court’s reasons for selecting the particular sentence that it did. Indeed, the court specifically noted that it was considering unwarranted disparities both among defendants in general and among co-defendants within the case. We therefore conclude that the district court’s explanation satisfied the requisite standard.

Also not noted in the NACDL report, perhaps because the opinion may have come out after the report was released, Allmendinger’s section 2255 motion was successful. Appellate counsel on the direct appeal was found to be ineffective for failing to raise a “merger” argument that was nearly certain to result in reversal of the defendant’s money laundering convictions.  United States v. Allmendinger, No. 17-6447, 2018 WL 3117199, at *7 (4th Cir. June 26, 2018). So, Chris is almost certain to have his sentence reduced.

[v] It is also possible that monkeys will fly out of my butt when I summon them.

[vi] The more precise link is this one.

[vii] This is the “not more than necessary” pabulum found in section 3553(a) that is so laughably meaningless.

[viii] It is not only that some of the goals may be contradictory, but far more importantly, it is that the goals when mixed together become completely unmoored from their intellectual foundations.

[ix] See, e.g., United States v. Johnson, 69 F.3d 1092 (8th Cir. 1999) (affirming my imposition of a life sentence on the “gentle drug dealer” who, among other depraved activities, had his brother sodomize a young girl with motor oil to collect a drug debt.)

[x] This is an “inside baseball” reference for which I refuse to provide a citation.

Kopf: Footnote 239 republished via Simple Justice

[oselatra]

Free advice

From the WebMD of Romance and Dr. Love.

Love is a mystery, just like whatever's wrong with your toe. Luckily, the Arkansas Times has two specialists to break it all down: Dr. Love, our prescient, happily married, in-house expert. Is he a real doctor? No. But we created a fake Ph.D. from "Cupid University" on Microsoft Word, printed it out and had someone sign it. So, viola, he's an official authority on affection.Yet just giving out "good" advice felt ... incomplete. Most of us don't go to the doctor with our weird toe problem — we Google our condition and freak out. So, in that spirit, we also have advice from the WebMD of Romance, full of overreactions, misunderstandings and overreactions based on those misunderstandings.

Enjoy!

What advice would you give to switches who need their switch partners to be more dominant at times?

Dr. Love: I assume you're not talking about the switches found in the electrical department at The Home Depot here, but "switches" in the sense of people who participate in power-exchange relationships who are sometimes dominant and sometimes submissive, right? OK, cleared that up, with the most gracefully inserted bit of stealth exposition ever. In relationships, as in synchronized pipe-bomb disarming, patience and careful, deliberate movements are key if you want to avoid being spread all over a wall like a Rorschach blot. That requires good communication. There is no substitute for talking to your partner about what you want, so your line is: "I think it would be really hot if you X, Y and Z'ed more in the bedroom." That said, remember that a partner is not a fetish gumball machine, and you can't just stick a dime in and get exactly what you want. Your partner is a person, and sex, from low-fat vanilla to rocky road with rainbow sprinkles, is something to do WITH a person, not TO a person. So ask, and explain. But if they're not into it — either now or longterm — don't reward their honesty with browbeating, pouting or hurt feelings.

WebMD of Romance: Switching (in case you did not read above) is the reversal (or switching, you might say) of roles in a power-exchange relationship — dominant becomes submissive or vice versa. If, in that switch, you need your partner to become more dominant, I think there is a simple solution: communication. Specifically, you should not communicate that desire — especially not in a calm way — and instead let it fester inside you. Bottle up that anger; let it pool; let it corrode you. Once that small problem with someone you dearly love has blossomed into a full-blown hatred for all their actions, allow something banal they do (like buttering toast or watching TV a little too loud) send you into an unnecessary rage. Yell about this random, normal act. Get, really, really, really mad. When your loving partner asks what the real problem is — so prescient are they, so kind are they, to know you wouldn't just yell about something so silly — you should lie. Say it's only about that one action. Don't bring up this thing about switching at all. After doing that, storm out. Go to a motel. Sit on the gray bed. Watch the TV with the sound off.

What's the weirdest thing you've ever seen inserted into someone?

Dr. Love: I ate a Double Down at KFC once. Does that count?

Can long distance dominant/submissive relationships work?

Dr. Love: Yes, but you need a really, really long leash. (Rimshot!) But seriously, folks, in this age of instant communication — when even the Tom Cottons of the world can find romance — of course they can work. Good, healthy d/s relationships are always more about the mind than the body, and the mind doesn't care if your partner is in the room or two continents away. When you can't be together, you just have to be creative with your mind games. That said, it's kinda inevitable that the junk may eventually overrule the mind, so get-togethers for face-to-face fun time will likely be required at some point if you want to make fantasy reality. If that happens: Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.

WebMD of Romance: No, but you should continue trying for a long time until it becomes that weird, shaky part of a relationship where you're dependent on each other but not in love anymore. Then, have a big fight and break up but keep getting back together every few weeks. When one of you visits the other's city, after seemingly finally actually breaking up, make sure to hook up in a way you both regret. Oh, and you should get jealous, too! Go all Othello and stalk online anyone who's in a photo with your lover. Wait: former lover? Wait: current lover? Wait: WHO IS THAT GIRL WITH HIM!? You get the idea.

When do you think sex education should start?

Dr. Love: Giving people advice on how to raise their kids is tricky, because most of it only applies to your kid, and the part that doesn't is probably bullshit learned from Jenny McCarthy. But in general, I'd say: While parents have been dodging Sex Talks with their kids since mastodons roamed Rose City, disregard that impulse and start early. Appropriate for the age level, of course, but early. Kids are naturally curious. By the time a kid is 3 years old, a parent will have heard more questions than Alex Trebek has in his entire career, and some of those questions will inevitably be about their bodies (your kid's body, not "Jeopardy!" contestants, weirdo). They want to know how they work, even the parts you might find embarrassing or weird to talk about, and they pick up on the fact that boy bodies are different thangirl bodies much, much earlier than you would ever imagine. If you, as a parent, meet those early, completely innocent questions with straight, age-appropriate answers, not only does it tell your kid his or her body isn't something to be ashamed of, it builds a foundation of trust about sexuality. If you can keep it up as they grow, that foundation of trust about The Sex Stuff will let them know: It's cool to ask mom or dad the much harder questions. The answers you give to those questions might just save your child's life, future prosperity or long-term health someday. Or, Plan B, you can follow my parents' sex ed example and just leave a lot of Betamax tapes of 1970s porn in a gym bag in the closet. I didn't know much about sex by the time I became an adult, but I can assure you I was very disappointed when I hit puberty and my body hair didn't come in like Ron Jeremy's.

WebMD of Romance: Sex education should start around 21 years of age, when your child takes their first sip of alcohol — having never experimented with sex, drugs or cursing before that moment. During that talk, emphasize that your child should always be ashamed of his or her body. Use adjectives like "gross," "fleshy" and "sinful." Make abundantly clear that sex is for reproduction — that any desire to have sex aside from reproduction is part of a demented, truly sick, lust. If possible, pass along a copy of St. Augustine's "Confessions." Convince your child that this level of guilt is healthy. Before 21, it's really up to you; it's your kid after all. But the WebMD of Romance recommends a policy of pretending sex does not exist. "How are babies born?" your child asks. Do not answer. Stare them down. "What?" you ask back. "Nothing, nothing," your child says. That blow to their self-esteem should help with the whole shame thing we discussed earlier. Double parent win!

Is sex vital for romantic relationships?

Dr. Love: It's complicated.

WebMD of Romance: Ew, no, you perv.

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