#would you date the warden of a jail you were held at

[libertasforte]

Please give me my competent!Childe

10 intelligence 0 wisdom Childe

Me: surely not all of Wriothesley's constellations apply to Childe -

Childe: gets wrongly accused

Me: well fuck

[lancetuckershairgel]

Word Count: 844

Warnings: none

Taglist: @book-dragon-13 @jobean12-blog @bonkybarnes107 @jhangelface0523 @msruchita @brat-in-a-teacup @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @buckysteveloki-me @mycupoffanfictionreplies @marvelgirl7 @godofplumsandthunder @yelenasbarnes

Isolation is something used as punishment, but to Lucy it was a break. Sure, she was bored, but she had enough imagination and the ability to sleep whenever she wanted to keep herself busy for the three days inside the cell. She had only been pulled out to be taken to the warden's office to discuss the incident with Valencia. He had made the decision to leave Lucy in isolation for the three days leading up to the court date because the warden wasn't an ignorant man. He knew Lucy was a good kid, with no prior incidents, and wanted her out of his center as much as she wanted out. He thought that keeping her away from the other girls would help. 

Lucy sighed as she rested her head back against the wall, wondering what time it was. She was able to keep up with the days by the meals served, so she knew that today's serving of breakfast meant that it was court day. Dread built inside of her as she thought about what was to come, wondering if the warden would tell the judge what happened and what Chris would have to say about it. She also didn't want to have to tell Chris that Mr Snow had been destroyed. She felt at fault for leaving him behind, and her father always berated her about not taking care of her things. 

"Maybe I'll just stay here forever" she muttered to nothing but the cold walls

Some time passed before the cell opened and a guard ordered her out. She was processed and taken to the courthouse, where she sat in the same spot as before and avoided all eye contact with Chris. If he knew what she'd done he would be giving her that look he gave when he was disappointed with her, his face solemn and eyes slightly narrowed as his head sat at a slight tilt, and that wasn't something she wanted to see. 

Lucy didn't pay much attention to the court hearing, having been locked away for so long had made her a bit mentally checked out. She perked up to attention when the judge mentioned her name. 

"I see we've had an incident at the detention center? Miss Griffin do you care to explain?"

"Shit." Lucy thought to herself 

"Well?" The judge asked again

"Uhm." Lucy stood, feeling everyone's eyes on her. She hesitated, weighing the options. Telling the truth was her best shot, but with her experience with adults it wouldn't matter if she did or not. "I attacked a fellow inmate, your honor."

She could feel Chris' eyes squint. 

"Why?"

"Because she ruined my personal property." 

"And that's reason to attack someone? You broke her nose." 

Chris' eyebrows raised. Lucy avoided looking at him as she shrugged her shoulders. 

"Well, yeah. The guards knew what she did and they didn't do anything. Someone had to teach her a lesson." 

"Miss Griffin are you aware that these actions don't help your case?" 

Lucy shrugged again, unapologetic. The judge wrinkled his brow and gave a look to Chris before turning his attention back to the papers in front of him. As he was examining the forms, the baliff approached him and whispered something. He looked up and nodded before announcing a ten minute  recess and left the room. Lucy was lead to a room while everyone else filed out into the hallway to wait and a few seconds later Chris walked in. He talked with the police officers for a few seconds then sat next to the teenager. 

"What happened?" 

"Nothing." Lucy grumbled 

"Lucy...come on, talk to me" Chris persisted 

"Just some shit. It's nothing." 

"I'm trying my best to help you, Luce.  You gotta work with me here, tell me what happened and I can see how bad this affects things."

"I fucked up ok? I got angry and snapped."

"Why were you angry?" 

"Oh gee Chris, I don't know, where should I begin?" Lucy shot a look at him "The years of abuse at the hands of my father who then just walked off, the fact that I'm in jail, I mean the list goes on here…" 

Chris just sighed but continued to try to talk to Lucy about anything other than what had happened until the baliff came to get them so that court could resume. 

"Alright. I've come to my decision as to what I feel is best for the girls." The judge stated "I do hope it's the right one, and that Lucy and Lily can rebuild their lives and become happy, well rounded young women." 

Chris and Lucy both held their breaths. From her seat behind him, Erin placed her hand on Chris' shoulder in support. Lily wasn't paying attention as she brushed the hair on an American Girl doll she had been given but Amber held her tight as she gripped her husband's hand. Tension was high in everyone in the seconds it took for the judge to make his announcement.  

"In the case of Lucy and Lily Griffin.." 

[criminalspacebros]

busted - space au

When a ‘lil fic’ becomes a one shot.

Pairing: Bruiseshipping (ColeXJay)

Context: Jay has to bail Cole out of jail again. Currently, the two of them are already dating and on the run from Garmadon’s forces. Skylor is introduced here and great news, I’ve figured out where Zane’s going to go!

Busted-Space AU

Jay had came out of his room, setting a course for the kitchen when his comm lit up from the table.

Pixal was sitting nearby the comm, searching from her computer for places to stay a couple nights in the town they were in.

It wasn’t much help that Kai and Nya were onto them now, gaining more and more useful leads. It was enough to scare Jay into wanting to stay low, blending in with the normal, everyday, people and rolling with it for a week or so.

While Pixal didn’t seem to mind, Cole, on the other hand, found it terrifying. He hated the idea, mainly because he would be recognized within seconds, but also because he hated the thought of having to follow the rules for more than even a day. It was strictly, whatever he liked, he was going to take it.

And Jay was bending his rules.

“What’s going on, Pix?” Jay asked from the door, poking his head out.

“You are not going to like it,” she muttered, half asleep as she tossed the comm in Jay’s direction.

Breaking news, the infamous space fugitive, Cole Brookstone, has been caught by the authorities and taken into custody just ten minutes ago.

It’s been known that the criminal has been on the wanted list for several years after stealing the Staff of Elements.

“I told you.” Pixal heard a sigh leave Jay as he shoved the communicator into his bag, before throwing it over his shoulder.

“Yeah, that was a bad idea.” He reached for the blue sweater over the chair, slipping it on. He had to admit, it stung a little to leave his cape in his room for the next week, since laying low also meant having to wear a new outfit. But Jay couldn’t argue against himself, and besides, he quite enjoyed the new look. “Well then, I guess I’ll be back in a bit.”

Pixal didn’t bother to wave him off, keeping her eyes fixed on the computer screen.

So, he suspected it was partially his fault. Or maybe all his fault.

When Jay first opted to lay low in the town, Cole began having issues with his plan to keep a low profile and stay under the radar. Forcefully dragging him along, even though he had no option to back out of it in the first place, Jay suggested that Cole take a walk in town to clear his mind off of things, whilst also suggesting he change into a new pair of clothes. And even though Cole had already warned Jay about still being recognized within seconds, the space pirate waved it off as an excuse.

Guess he was wrong about all that.

That or Cole had just found something else to steal.

It took longer than he thought before Jay finally stumbled upon the prison. Instead of the warden, a man named Chen had gone up to greet him, still bitter about losing his staff.

“Couldn’t charm your way out of this one, huh?” Was the first thing Jay said to Cole when he finally saw his boyfriend from the other side of the thick glass.

Cole sat against the wall, arms crossed and… pouting? Jay snorted.

“I told you to lay low.”

“And I told you they’d recognize me!”

“You were out for nearly thirty whole minutes!” Cole’s eyes widened and he turned his head away from Jay. The space pirate took that as admission of surrender and he cracked a toothy grin. “Ha, ha, what’s your excuse now?”

Cole didn’t respond.

At that moment, Jay’s stomach sunk. A flash of distress crossed Jay’s face as his eye drifted to the orange bracelet that was around his wrist. He stepped closer to the glass, pressing his palm against it gently. “Hey. You. Yeah, you dummy,” Cole’s head perked upwards and the corner of Jay’s lips lifted into a half smile. “I’m bailing you out again so be grateful.”

Slowly, Cole turned around, green eyes on blue. Within seconds, Cole’s hand was pressed on the glass, just on the other side of Jay’s. “Is this the part where I say ‘thank you’, Walker?”

“Actually, I prefer ‘thank you for bailing me out instead of breaking me out for the second time this month’.” Jay chortled, leaning his forehead on the glass. “Because I’m the best boyfriend in the whole galaxy.”

Cole rolled his eyes. “I love you, Cap, but I love your ego more.”

And just like that, Jay was blushing madly, desperately wishing he could curl up in Cole’s arms right now. How he wished he could kiss him. The stupid glass.

As if on cue, an officer came forward, her scarlet hair slapping against her neck. “Aren’t you lucky, Brookstone? It hasn’t even been an hour and you’re already free to go.”

Cole stepped back as the warden unlocked the cell. He shot her a grin.

“You can’t lock up this pretty face forever, can you?”

The officer wrinkled her nose. “Get out of here.”

Ignoring the officer’s comment, he quickly shuffled out of the cell to Jay’s side. He instantly took Jay’s hand in his and kissed him on the forehead, all the blood rushing to Jay’s cheeks.

Jay was too distracted to even notice the lady leaving. His hand shot out as he tried to reach for her. “Hey! Er, Ma’am?” He squeaked, gaining her attention. “Thank you.”

Her expression softened and a smile broke onto her face. She rested a hand on her hip, inviting conversation. “You know, you’re lucky it was just us and not Garmadon’s little squad. Who knows what they want with you two. Especially this guy,” she pointed at Cole.

“Skylor,” she held out her hand, “That’s my name.”

Jay shook it eagerly.

The officer looked the two of them up and down, growing suspicious at their choice of clothing.

The infamous Cole Brookstone was definitely not known for wearing hats, something he had tossed away but was wearing when they had first located him in the town square. And he surely never dressed to fit in.

Now, she didn't know much about Jay but a sweater and sweatpants seemed awfully casual for criminal activity.

“You two looking for a place to crash?” She asked.

Jay's eye lit up. “Yeah! How'd you know?”

“I might have a place you guys can bunk. But under specific conditions.”

Jay nodded eagerly. Cole was unimpressed.

“No stealing. No lying,” - Cole huffed - “No attitude. Oh, and, you have to give back the staff you stole from my father,” she pointed at Cole accusingly.

“That's impossible. I stole it four years ago.”

“So? Don't tell me you've gotten rid of it already.”

Cole's brows narrowed. “Can't say that I have.”

“You're joking.”

“Am I?”

Skylor growled, her fists curling. “That staff meant everything to my Dad. I can't believe you just-”

Cole lifted a finger. “I never said I got rid of it. I happen to like that staff.”

“Well wherever you're keeping it, give it back...” Skylor shared a look with the space pirate. “Or you can't stay here.”

Jay's face fell. He grabbed Cole's arm and shook it violently. “You have to give it back!”

“I stole it, it's rightfully mine.” Cole folded his arms across his chest, glaring in Skylor’s direction.

“You know, we're still here. I could always lock you up again.”

Jay threw an arm in front of Cole, shielding him. “I think-”

Except before he could finish, Cole took one big step forward, growling. “Your rules are so unfair! You expect me to do all that?”

“Well I wouldn't have to set rules if you weren't the most wanted fugitive in the galaxy!”

Cole clenched his fists, his teeth tight.

“Woah! Hey. Can't we negotiate something here? How about, Cole gives you back the staff, and the rest of the rules? Poof!”

Skylor looked intrigued. Cole gaped.

“Please? Kai and Nya have never been this close before.”

“You’re boyfriend doesn't seem to want to cooperate.”

“He's just, being a little stingy. Please, Sky? Can I call you Sky?” He teased.

“Jay, I hate that idea.”

“Shut it, Cole. Skylor?”

“This is so unfair, Jay.”

Jay sighed swinging his hand and Cole’s, “But every second we spend out there is every one step closer they have to finding us. We have to lay low. Besides, I hate bailing you out of jail. It’s not good for my wallet.”

“You have a wallet?” Cole snorted. “Okay, but seriously, what if Skylor rats us out? She obviously hates my guts. Maybe Pixal’s found someplace else to stay already.”

In fact, the space pirate had thought of that before. But he didn’t want to let it get in the way of all the possibly good things. He waved it off, eye drifting to his boyfriend’s serious expression. “Let’s not talk about this right now.” Jay reached into his bag, pulling out a chocolate bar and handing it to Cole. “I brought you your favorite.”

Cole’s eyes lit up with excitement and he reached for the candy bar greedily. Jay grinned and pulled it away. “Tell me first, what did you steal?”

Cole froze. He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“I just want to know what you stole.”

Cole gaped in shock. He stopped walking and threw his hands up defensively. “I didn’t steal anything!”

“You’re a terrible liar and you know it.” Jay continued a straight path, leaving Cole behind in the dust. “And don’t try to seduce me.”

“I swear! I was just walking through town like you suggested and then suddenly I was in handcuffs. Seriously!”

Jay tucked the chocolate away, raising his scarred brow at Cole.

“Fine! Kiss me if I’m wrong then!”

And Jay did just that. Cole’s body relaxed, his lips missing the feeling of Jay’s own against his already the second he pulled away. “You are wrong.”

He pulled his hand away, suddenly holding a pouch of gold coins.

“And I was right.”

[qveensbury]

the boiling rock

ch. one | ch. two | ch. three | AO3 | ko-fi

The minute clinic nurse practitioner diagnosed Zuko with a mild concussion. Lots of liquid, ibuprofen for headaches, and reduced screen time.

Chief gave him a week off to recoup.

Zuko didn’t hear anything about Katara. Her attorney didn’t seem surprised when he told her she’d been arrested. He hadn’t heard from Beifong and he wasn’t going to ask Chief.

Zuko shook his head as he picked up a new bottle of ibuprofen in the corner store near his apartment.

Not your battle Ryuku.

He stepped outside after buying some additional things.

“Zuko Ryuku?”

Zuko squared his shoulders and turned toward the voice. “Yes.” He sized up the Water Tribe man who called him.

“The Honey Heiress––“

“I don’t answer to the Honey Heiress.” Zuko began to turn.

The man caught Zuko’s shoulder. “Please, she needs help. Katara trusted you. You’re the only one who can help me break her out.”

“Break her out?!” Zuko looked around, before continuing in a hushed tone. “Are you insane?” He pulled his shoulder free. “I won’t help you break the Honey Heiress out of jail.”

“She’s not in jail.”

“What are you talking about? They arrested Kuruk. Where would she be?”

“She’s in a black site. Boiling Rock.”

“That’s absurd. The city doesn’t have black sites.”

The man appraised Zuko for a moment before scoffing. “You really aren’t a dirty cop, huh?”

Zuko frowned. “Hey––“

“Listen, son. I’m Katara’s father. I could mobilize Kuruks if it was––Look, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t desperate. My daughter trusted you and I need a cop I can trust.”

Why did Kuruk trust me?

Zuko crossed his arms, scowling. “I guess, if there are illegal torture sites in the city, I have a responsibility to investigate.”

Katara’s father shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat. The chatter is they’re moving her tonight. So, we’ll need to move before then. You’ll need to leave your conscious at home. There will be no fraternity tonight”

“Before we launch into this plan, what should I call you?”

“My name is Hakoda.”

+

Hakoda twisted his wrists.

Zuko glanced over. “I know it’s uncomfortable. Sorry about that.”

Hakoda shrugged. “Cops have done worse in the past.”

Zuko nodded slowly in response. It still doesn’t make sense why Ka–Kuruk would betray me–the cops. She could have left and properly warn Haru if he was on the Kuruk payroll. Why had she helped us at all?

Zuko pulled up to a checkpoint.

“Badge,” the security guard shone a light in the front of Zuko’s car.

“What? My badge? Cus a non-cop would stroll up for kicks and giggles.” Zuko scoffed, digging it out of the center console.

The security guard started to pull out a binder from the security booth.

“Let’s keep this one off the books, Champ. Captain doesn’t know I’m here. Let’s leave it that way.”

The guard scoffed, mocking Zuko. “Like I haven’t heard that one before. What’s your business?”

“Dropping off this guy.” Zuko jerked a thumb in Hakoda’s direction.

“Why’s he in the front seat?”

“And what? Look like I’m driving a Lyft? You gotta be conspicuous.”

The guard rolled his eyes. “Let me check your trunk.”

Zuko popped it open.

The guard inspected the trunk before closing the lid and banging it twice.

Zuko raised a hand in acknowledgment, before pulling past the gates into the yard.

“Welcome to the belly of the beast,” Hakoda said.

“So, we figure out where to access the records, find Katara, and get out.”

Hakoda nodded. “You ready?”

Zuko shrugged. “Let’s get this over with.”

+

Zuko joined Hakoda to get answers.

He thought he’d be doing the asking, getting to the bottom of everything.

“They didn’t even ask me what you did,” Zuko unlocked Hakoda’s handcuffs.

“They don’t care.” The older man rubbed his wrists. “They see someone who looks like they could be a part of the Kuruk or Dai Li or Red Lotus and that’s enough. The was a crime being born in the wrong body.” Hakoda looked at Zuko when he hesitated.

“I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Hakoda pulled out  a map.

“I feel resp––“

“We can handle your guilt later, Detective. The prisoners’ data is held in the makeshift warden’s office.”

Zuko came close to look at the map. “It doesn’t look too difficult.”

“Then, let’s go. We need to go down this hall then make a left.”

Zuko led the way. The silence begged for something to fill it. The ringing of the light bulbs wasn’t enough. Something about it made him want to cover his ears.

Zuko cleared his throat.

“We’re taking the second right.”

Zuko nodded. He curved his fingers into his palm. The ringing changed its pitch.

Dad, please!

A scream severed the quiet. Zuko jumped, freezing.

Hakoda took hold of Zuko’s elbow. “We’re making this right, detective.”

Zuko mumbled a “Sorry” falling in step next to him.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

“Guess you were right. The city still has black sites.”

Hakoda shrugged, “This isn’t the only one.” Another howl punctuated his statement.

Zuko pressed his fingers deeper into his palm.

Ozai! What are you doing?

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Zuko closed his eyes.

20, 19, 18, 17, 16—

“Detective?” Hakoda put a hand on Zuko’s shoulder.

Zuko startled, eyes wide.

“Are you okay?”

Zuko swallowed.

15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

“I’m gonna be fine.”

Hakoda studied Zuko for a moment before squeezing his shoulder. “Room 113 is down this hall.”

Zuko opened the door when they reached it.

A computer sat on a desk against the wall.

“Minimal.” Zuko put on gloves and sat at the computer.

Hakoda read off the password, “Capital ‘X’, lowercase ‘e’, 1, ¢, lowercase ‘d’, 9, lowercase ‘a’, lowercase ’t’, uppercase ‘G’.” He looked at the screen over Zuko’s shoulder. “There’s got to be a directory. There!’ He pointed to an excel file titled: Prisoners.

“This column looks like dates: ‘20180728’. The 28th? That was a week ago. So, it’s recent.”

“Search for Katara.”

The computer indicated no match.

Zuko sorted the column to order the entries for most recent.

Hakoda put a hand on the back of his neck as he leaned closer to the screen. “Katara was arrested four days ago.”

Zuko scanned the list for her name. “I don’t see her.”

Hakoda straightened his back and pointed at a row. “Honey. She’s in room 157.”

“What’s going on here?”

Zuko stood up and his chair flew to he ground. He pulled his gloves off and stuffed them in his pocket. “Uh, just booking this s-scum.”

The officer narrowed his eyes. “Where are you from? I’ve never seen you before.”

Zuko heard Hakoda fumbling to lock his cuffs.

“Could you at least loosen these cuffs? I can’t exactly escape in here.”

Zuko turned and closed the cuffs. “How ‘bout I make them tighter.” He glanced up at Hakoda who mouthed ‘Stall.’

Zuko cleared his throat. “I’m Lee from the 43rd Precinct. They told me to, uh, come put his information in the log.”

“Well did you? Usually, we put them in their cell before we come here. We’ll have to move this room.”

Zuko smacked his forehead. “Oh! Is that what he said? I couldn’t remember. Let me log out and take him down there.”

“Do you need any help? He looks like a handful.”

Zuko set the chair upright and glanced back at the officer. “I’ve got it covered. Thanks.”

“Well, congrats on your first Boiling Rock collar.”

Zuko raised a thumbs-up and gave a closed mouth smile.

The door shut behind him and they let out a sigh.

“Quick thinking.”

“I’m putting in bogus info in case he double checks and putting you in cell 154 so we have a reason to be over that way.” Zuko slipped his gloves back on and sat at the computer.

“Guess I see why Honey put so much faith in you. I’ll grab her cell key.”

Zuko froze as he was about to stand up. Maybe. “Let’s roll.”

“The map is in my shirt pocket. Let’s not take anymore risks.” Hakoda handed him the key.

Zuko pulled the map out and scanned for 157. “Found it. Let’s go.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Hakoda walked alongside Zuko.

“I don’t have a choice.”

20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Zuko clenched his jaw as he passed a guard.

“Kinda late for plain clothes cops but you young ones are always going above and beyond.”

Zuko nodded, letting out a sigh after turning into the next hallway. The uptick in his heartbeat grounded him. He pulled out the key at Katara’s cell. He opened the door and let Hakoda in first, before closing it behind them.

“Dad? What are y—What in the world do you think you’re doing?” Katara stood up from the mat on the floor. Her eyes were huge as she searched over both of them.

“Katara,” Hakoda walked towards her, “they’re planning on moving you tonight. We need to bust you out.”

“I know. I—“ She slapped a hand on her forehead. “I have—I don’t need you guys to save me.”

The doorknob turned and the door opened.

“Katara, are you okay? The key to your cell was missing but—“ A woman walked in and looked around. Her face steeled as she pulled the door behind her. “What’s going on?”

“Suki, it’s o—it’s not okay. It’s the Detective and my dad.” Katara pushed her hair back. “They came to rescue me.”

“Well, aren’t you popular? I’m supposed to be rescuing you.”

Zuko glanced at Hakoda. The wrinkles between his eyebrows led Zuko to look back at Katara.

Katara laughed, raising her hands. She crossed her arms. “So, what do we do?”

Suki inhaled, pulling her auburn hair into a topknot. “We have twenty minutes max until someone comes and checks on you before release. That’s not enough time to sneak them out. The hallway’s a dead end.” Suki chewed on her lip as she glanced around the room.

“You don’t need to worry about me. I drove here and they think I’m bringing a prisoner.”

“Air ducts!” Suki exclaimed. “Your dad can meet us by the van and I can drive the Kuruks out.”

“Where?” Katara pointed to the map in Zuko’s hands. He handed it to Suki.

“This is alarmingly accurate.” she scanned the paper. “Here,” she pointed. “Luckily we’re one the first floor. Just head west. There’s a weird arch, like a swing set. I’m parked in the lot to the left of that. We’re going out the back entrance.” Suki handed him the map. “You should go now. I can’t idle after I get custody of Katara. I’m driving a van that says ‘Sal’s Bakery’ on it. Here’s the key. Wait in the cab of the car.”

Hakoda nodded. “Give me a hand up?”

They opened a vent and gave him a boost into the opening.

“This was a pretty stupid plan, Detective.” Katara looked up at as her father closed the vent.

Zuko shrugged. “Your dad had a lot under control.”

“Yea because you didn’t have anything to lose in this.” She glared at him. “I am so angry at the both you right now. Just get out.”

19, 18, 17, 16—

“You’re welcome.”

Katara snorted, “Y—“

“We don’t have time.” Suki pushed him out of the door.

“I’ll finish this later.” Katara said before Suki closed the door.

+

Zuko slumped into his couch. How did an ibuprofen run turn into this? He ran a hand over his face.

The same way a clear thread to solve the murder of Watanabe turned into a massive tangle.

Somehow, Katara Kuruk still stood on the opposite side of that thread.

Loud rapping shocked Zuko out of sleep. His mind started to list off everyone he’d arrested in the past three months who could be after him.

His window opened and Katara slipped in.

“Wh—“

“Detective,” Katara closed the window and blinds before turning to him.

“Kuruk, what are you doing in my apartment?”

“That stunt you pulled tonight could have been a disaster. What were you thinking? If they found out there was a plan to break me out, everything would have been screwed up. I told you. Your job is on the outside through the proper channels. My job is in the inside, doing the dirty work. That’s the way it has to be.”

“What are you talking about?”

Katara walked up to Zuko. She reached up and brushing hair out of his face before cupping his cheek. Zuko closed his eyes. “How’s your head?”

Zuko opened his eyes to glare at her, pulling away. “Mild concussion. Kuruk, you aren’t making any sense. What the heck is going on?”

Katara pursed her lips. “It’s complicated. And, I’ll tell you when I can.” She glanced up at him. “I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“Kuruk.”

She opened his window and slipped back onto the fire escape.

“Katara!”

When she looked at him, Zuko felt his heart stop. He took a step towards her and she closed the window.

What in the world was going on?

[cuchufletapl]

Prisons in the old days

This Saturday I went sightseeing and learnt a couple of things that will probably come in handy when writing fantasy or historical, so I’m going to share it here, for whoever may need it and happen to stumble on this.

Let’s talk about prisons. Historical prisons.

One of the ‘Must Sees’ if you ever go to Pedraza, a beautiful medieval village in Segovia (Spain), is the Cárcel de la Villa (Prison of Town).

The prison, a two floor (plus basement) building located on the city walls and next to the only gate of Pedraza, dates back to the 13th century, but at that time it was a guard tower. It’s in the 17th century when it was restored and turned into a prison, which was functional until the 1890s.

There is no door to enter the ground floor; the entrance of the building leads to a set of stairs up to the second floor. There, in the hall, we’ll find a stairway to the ground floor and two doors —behind which are, respectively, the warden’s quarters and the guardroom, the only rooms in the entire building to have fireplaces.

Following the guardroom, we find the room of containment, where remand prisoners were held. Here, we find a pillory of sorts, but for feet:

Sorry for the shitty photo (this is the only one I took anyway, so...).

During the night, the prisoners slept on this table, with their feet locked. But not only that. You see that thing, in the photo, to the left of the hand? That’s a neck shackle, which used to be stuck to the wall, and which the prisoners would wear too. If you had any luck left, your warren wouldn’t be a cruel bastard who’d put the shackle at a height that’d leave your head hanging a few centimetres above the table.

The photo doesn’t show it, but in the corner of this room, there’s a... toilet? Latrine, I guess I could call it? It’s basically a block of stone with a hole where people would relieve themselves. There are a total of five of these latrines in the prison, two of which dumped their shit to the exterior of the building (and the town, since they’re facing the walls). We’ll later see where the other three (the one in this room is one of those) dumped theirs.

(By the way, on the wood of the pillory there are many names and dates carved:

I don’t know if you’ll be able to see it, but I remember this one read “Nicolás [Surname that I don’t remember] 1860.”)

Now, let’s get back to the hall and go downstairs.

On the ground floor, the first room we’ll find ourselves in defies one of the most widespread preconceptions of jail. Cages of iron bars?

Nope.

Wooden cages.

(Photo taken from the Fundación de la Villa de Pedraza’s webpage.)

Two wooden cages, to be precise. 3x3 meters each. No light to be let in, except what may come from the slot on the door (when it was left opened). These cells used to keep about 15 people at the same time. The prisoners were fed with only bread and water for however long they spent here.

But what kind of crimes warranted a stay in here?

Non-blood crimes.

Maybe you stole some food or burgled someplace, or the mayor just doesn’t like you. Anyway, lesser crimes. Misdemeanours.

So imagine what awaited for those who did more than that.

Now is when the fun starts.

(Please note the dark humour, I’m not a sadist.)

From the wooden cages, we continue to the next (and last) room on the first floor. This is an empty room, except for the rectangular hole on the ground. I don’t remember its exact measurements, but it might have been about 1x2 meters, 4 into the ground. So about 8 m3. Furthermore, the hole is surrounded by some sort of stone railing that’s like 1 meter high.

This was an individual cell. And a one-way ticket. Once the warren threw you into the hole, you’d never get out alive.

The prisoners usually broke an ankle when they hit the ground, which made impossible the already difficult task of climbing the 4-meter walls. Furthermore, they lost all energy pretty quickly, considering they weren’t provided with any food or water.

This was the fate of those who committed murder or manslaughter. Actually, the sentence included death by the executioner, but he had to come from Segovia, the nearest city, and that’d take a couple of days —the prisoner was already dead because of dehydration by the time he’d arrive at Pedraza, so the warren didn’t even bother calling him.

No staff ever went down to the hole, so the corpse, along with his urine and faeces, was left there to rot until the next prisoner came along. This newcomer would be given a basket before being thrown in and told to clean everything up. The warren would then retrieve the basket and (here comes the best part) sell the deceased prisoner's remainders as fertiliser. More the reason not to call the executioner, since then he could carry on with his little business.

This is humankind at its finest, as you can see.

Coming back to our route.

We go downstairs once more, to the basement.

One single room takes all the space of the basement. Only its lower half is underground, as there's a window that looks out to the street at feet level. The ceiling is high —the room, in general, is very spacious.

It's the biggest cell, and the worst one.

You see, to come down here, we, 21st-century visitors, have to take the stairs, but those stairs were built with the sole purpose of tourism —they didn't exist before.

Like in the previous cell, the prisoners were simply thrown in and the fall was a one-way ticket. However, this wasn't an individual cell and these people were fed. These criminals didn't have a death sentence —not by the executioner, anyway— and getting them dead quickly wasn't a priority.

Instead of dying of thirst or hunger, they died of infections and disease. For you see, there were three holes in the ceiling. And I'm guessing you're smart people, I'm sure you know what three things I previously mentioned match these three holes.

As it's to be expected, the prisoners' human waste wasn't cleaned up, but the poor devils couldn't live and die with their own shit alone, oh, no: they had to be buried alive with other people's shit.

And I mean it literally. That place was never cleaned. When the prison was to be restored and prepared for the public as a tourist attraction, in the 20th century, the level of human detritus was more than 1.5 meters high. There were almost three hundred years worth of shit down there —to get it all out, they had to open a hole in the wall.

And back to the "being buried alive" thing: amongst the solidified faeces (I'm surprised it didn't turn into petroleum), the restorers found quite a lot of skeletons —our guide didn't tell us how many, but the number must have been high.

When I started to mentally plan how to write this post, I imagined one of the first things I'd say would be (sarcastically), "Man, the Middle Ages were nice."

But then I remembered. Only the building is from the Middle Ages. Sure, the time when the prison was opened, the 17th century, wasn't much nicer either, so this level of inhumanity isn't that surprising, but this was functioning until late 19th century. Which, all things considered, ISN'T THAT FAR OFF FROM OUR TIME.

It's kind of terrifying, honestly.

We associate the Middle Ages with cruelty, diseases, very high mortality, inequality, poverty, illiteracy, and a surprising lack of moral compass (considering how religious society was). That's why we call it the Dark Ages as well. Even so, the things that characterise this period of time didn't start to disappear until very recently —they haven't disappeared yet. Not fully in the First World, and not at all in some countries.Gives you a lot to think about. Makes you wonder about human nature —about the long road we have ahead to make things better for everyone.

Anyway. I've gotten a bit philosophical here, but this post was only meant to spread some historical facts around. Hope you have learnt a thing or two and reading this wasn't completely unbearable.

Please excuse my mistakes, English isn't my first language.

[thesadabwinchester]

It all happened so fast, my boyfriend had the brilliant idea that we'd rob a bank and go off and live like kings in some tropical island for the rest of our lives and I was naive enough to believe him, but that's how a twenty year old girl landed in the Fulsom State Prison for the rehabilitation of women, in Peachtree, Georgia in 1966. Back then there were not the kind of rights there are today, especially in the south, you had male guards guarding the female prisoners and they pretty much did whatever they wanted with you. Especially if you were a slim twenty year old with firm tits and a nice round ass. My eighteen months there were quite an experience, and looking back I guess that is when I really became such a cock hound and learned to love fucking, sucking cocks and cum so much. My pussy, mouth and ass were used quite well those almost two years. It started the first few hours after we were arrested, we were in a holding cell in the local county jail. There were three other very rough men in there with us while we were awaiting arraignment, two black men and a white guy. After the guard put us in the cell and left, they immediately started to harass me and then one held my boyfriend down and the other two made me suck their cocks. They took turns fondling me while each one came in my mouth. After I was convicted, they sent me to State Prison, the first day I was terrified, other inmates were yelling at me and threatening me, after lights out a couple of guards came to my cell and blindfolded me and they took me to a room. They stripped off my prison issued uniform, bra and panties, I was totally naked and they pushed me down on my knees and cuffed my hands over a cot so my pussy, mouth and ass were easily available to them and boy they used them well. There must have been 12 to 15 guards come around that night and pound their dicks in my holes, they said it was my "initiation party" so everyone on duty had to get a turn with the newest piece of ass to come in. Over and over they came in my pussy, ass and my mouth, I constantly had a cock in my mouth and pussy at the same time for what seemed like hours. I must have swallowed at least 10 loads of cum and taken twice that many in my snatch and ass that first night. At first I resisted, so they had to restrain me each time they fucked me but eventually I thought; what the hell, I might as well enjoy lots of hard cock, most of the other bitches in here probably would have loved to get some cock. Some of the guards were actually good looking men that I would have probably dated on the outside anyway. Some were overweight rednecks but I just closed my eyes and pretended I was fucking a football team or something. Eventually it got to the point where they did not have to restrain me any longer, I would willingly fuck them whether there were two, five or ten guards that session. But at times they still restrained me just for the sheer enjoyment of having me blindfolded and chained up while they fucked me. Fucking the guards became a routine I looked forward to several times a week. After lights out a guard would come to my cell to get me, he would handcuff me and lead me to the room, he would usually have me suck him and he would rub my tits and lick my pussy to get me "prepared" for the night. They had the room set up like a lounge for fucking the inmates. There were couches and chairs where some of the guys would sit around relaxing and they had a few cots and benches in the room for special fucking techniques and positions. The first thing they would do is strip me naked and push me down on my hands and knees and I would go down the line of cocks sitting on the couch, sucking each one until it shot off in my mouth while jacking off the cocks on either side, while I was sucking and stroking the guards on the couch another one or two or three would take turns and mount me from behind and fuck me doggy style until they blew their loads in me. During the times when I had my period and they could not use my pussy, they would handcuff my hands behind my back and push me down on my knees and stand around shoving cock after cock in my mouth, sometimes two at a time, cuming all over my face and tits, I'd be covered in the luscious gooey stuff, it was dripping all over my tits and bush, but that was alright since I love the taste and smell of cum. They seemed to enjoy the site of that. They used to love to have me service three or more cocks at once by fucking me in the ass and the pussy and have me suck a dick at the same time too. A guy would sit on the couch and I would get on top of him and slide his cock in my pussy, then another guy would lube his cock up and slide into my ass while I sucked the cock of a guy standing behind the couch, they pounded me so hard, it was always a hot scene and I always came when they did that, I love the feeling of being filled up with three pumping horney cocks. I believe the guards were actually before their time because today they call that a "DP" for double penetration. I have always loved a good "DP", the feeling of being totally filled with cock and fucking them until they explode with their warm gooey cum, um um that's good stuff. It really got them excited when I would go on about what a slut I was and how much I loved to suck and fuck their cocks and drink their loads of warm cum. The guards loved me, I was their favorite piece of ass in the whole place and they treated me like queen in there, just about anything I wanted I got. Many of the other inmates were jealous of my special treatment and were mean to me and threatened to "get" me, but the guards gave me protection from them, except one day when I was on laundry duty, several other girls jumped me tied me up and forced me to lick their pussies while they fucked and spanked my ass with a broomstick. My ass was so sore after that, I kept far away from them after that night. It was much better fucking the guards. When I was about to be paroled they threw one last "bash" before I was released, they took me to the Warden's study, we all got drunk on beer they brought in and they fucked my pussy silly, they all said they wanted to get one last piece of the good stuff before they had to back to fucking the other "skanks" in this place. I took on all of them, I sucked cock after cock, fucked each cock again and again with my pussy and ass. They fucked me on the floor, on the wardens' couch, even on the desk. I drank load after load of cum and I was covered with the stuff, it was all over my face, tits, stomach, back and running down my thighs, I was a mess but I had countless orgasms and I felt very satisfied afterwards. I could barely walk strait the next day when I walked out of that place. Yea, I have some fond memories of my time in Fulsom County Prison but I'd rather not go back, there is plenty of good hard cock on the outside too. I'll tell you about that another time...

[gyrlversion]

Five prison officers are found guilty of abusing inmates 40 years ago

Five prison officers have been convicted of physically abusing boys at a youth detention centre more than 40 years ago following one of the biggest police probes in British history. 

Young inmates at Medomsley Detention Centre near Consett, County Durham were kicked, punched and stamped on, Teesside Crown Court heard. 

Others were stripped naked and made to bunny hop to the showers at the youth detention centre for under 21s between 1960 and its closure in 1988.

One victim described the institution as ‘hell on earth.’

After a series of trials it can now be reported that five former members of staff, all in their 60s and 70s, have been convicted of misconduct in public office for crimes committed up to four decades ago.

Durham Police launched an investigation called Operation Seabrook in 2013 and spoke to 1,676 former inmates who claimed to have been abused at the centre. 

The prolific abuse has chilling echoes of the 1996 film sleepers starring Brad Pitt, Robert De Niro and Kevin Bacon, which sees young boys abused and raped by prison guards at a youth detention centre in New York. 

Christopher Onslow, 72, (pictured left outside Teesside Crown Court) and John McGee, 74, (pictured outside same court, right) were among five former prison officers at Medomsley Detention Centre in County Durham to be convicted of physical abuse of young inmates 

In the final trial today Alan Bramley, 70 (pictured outside Teesside Crown Court) was today convicted of misconduct in public office but cleared of assault causing actual bodily harm

One young prisoner was beaten up by the officer in charge of physical training when he tried to tell him that one of his colleagues – later jailed for sexual abuse – had raped him in the kitchens.

The same officer threw rocks at a different prisoner causing him to fall in the gym and damage his vertebrae. 

Successive juries were told how a favoured device of some who worked at the centre was to ask new entries their name, and then punch or kick them when they failed to add ‘Sir’ in their responses. 

Judge Howard Crownson lifted reporting restrictions on the hearings after the verdicts were returned in the last of three trials today. 

Brian Greenwell, 70, (pictured outside Teesside Crown Court, left) and Kevin Blakely, 67, (right outside same court) were both convicted of misconduct in public office for when they worked at the County Durham detention centre 

Describing the extent of the ill-treatment that some of the young men experienced, prosecutor Jamie Hill QC said: ‘There was an atmosphere of fear and violence throughout the institution, and, we say, that atmosphere allowed officers such as these defendants to commit offences in the knowledge that that type of behaviour was sanctioned by their colleagues.

‘To simply say that it was a different time with different attitudes would be to abdicate responsibility for investigating serious allegations of crime against people made vulnerable due to their incarceration.’

The seven defendants were split up into three separate trials, with five convicted and two cleared.

What was Operation Seabrook?  

Operation Seabrook was one of the country’s biggest inquiries into decades-old sexual and physical abuse.

No fewer than 1,676 former detainees told detectives they were assaulted by staff over a period spanning the 1960s to when Medomsley Detention Centre closed in 1988.

Durham Police launched Operation Seabrook in August 2013 to ensure victims were receiving support, to investigate how it operated and to gather evidence with a view to prosecuting former staff members.

The force’s Major Crime Team took the job on, and at times 70 detectives were working on the case.

It has identified 32 suspects who were still alive and in November 2017 the Crown Prosecution Service advised that seven should be charged.

Following a series of three trials, five officers have now been convicted of misconduct relating to physical abuse which went on there.

Durham Police said another six suspects could yet be charged.

In the course of the trials, during which reporting was banned, 71 complainants gave evidence. Five of the detainees who had died since coming forward had their statements read out in court.

Durham Police said it had collated 23,280 documents relating to the investigation.

Detective Chief Superintendent Adrian Green, the senior investigating officer, said that the force has deployed ‘significant resource’ when investigating the abuse claims

He said: ‘I don’t think there’s been a historic abuse case with this number of complainants, in my knowledge, before.’

On the possibility of further charges being put, and further trials being held, he said: ‘There may well be other people who have suffered in Medomsley who want to come forward, who identify other people for which evidence could be found.

‘There are definitely other offenders who have been identified by victims who, if the evidence was available, certainly have questions to answer.’

Mr Green also explained how it is important to stress that there was not a ‘regime of abuse’ from officials, saying that those who have been convicted had ‘abused their position’.

When asked whether the delay between the offences and the convictions was the result of a ‘cover-up’, he said of individuals that worked at the centre: ‘If they knew that abuse of this nature was occurring then shame on them, because they should have intervened and they should have stopped it.

‘They had a duty to do so, and have failed.’

Former officer Christopher Onslow, 72, was convicted of misconduct in public office between 1975 and December 1980, a separate charge of misconduct in public office covering a later period from January 1981 to December 1985, inflicting grievous bodily harm, three charges of assault causing actual bodily harm and wounding with intent.

John McGee, 74, was convicted of misconduct in public office and assault causing actual bodily harm.

Brian Greenwell, 70, was convicted of misconduct in public office and Neil Sowerby, 62, was cleared of misconduct in public office, sexual charges and assault.

In the final trials today Kevin Blakely, 67, and Alan Bramley, 70, were both convicted of misconduct in public office but cleared of assaults causing actual bodily harm.

David McClure, 63, was cleared of assault and misconduct.

The jury heard how Onslow was in charge of physical training at the facility between 1975 and 1985, but ‘exploited his position of authority in a consistently sadistic and brutal fashion’.

One of his victims was climbing an obstacle course, but got stuck while around 20ft in the air, prompting the then-officer, nicknamed ‘The Machine’ to throw rocks at him until he fell backwards onto the ground.

It was later discovered that the trainee had suffered three crushed vertebrae.

Onslow beat up an inmate who had been sent to work in the kitchens and was raped by Neville Husband – later convicted of sexually abusing inmates.

When the inmate said ‘There’s something amiss with Mr Husband in the kitchens’, Onslow launched an attack and told him never to tell anyone else.

Another young offender was aged 17 when the defendant ‘lost control of himself’ and kicked and stamped on him, before throwing medicine balls at him.

He beat up an inmate who lost a 200m race during sports day, saying he had lost a £10 bet on the 17-year-old.

Another inmate, who was mixed race, was subjected to a torrent of racist abuse from Onslow and other wardens. 

Mr Hill said of Onslow: ‘He took advantage of the power that had been entrusted to him and abused it to an alarming degree.’ 

Ex-officer McGee punched one victim who was serving a three-month sentence in the face, before forcing him to remove his underwear and ‘bunny-hop’ to the showers after he had soiled himself. 

Kevin Blakely, 67, nicknamed Broken Nose by inmates, worked at Medomsley between 1974 and 1983 and was convicted of misconduct in a public office by assaulting and abusing detainees, but cleared of causing actual bodily harm and unlawful wounding.

Alan Bramley, 70, worked at the centre for four years from 1973 and was dubbed Bong Eye. He was convicted of misconduct in a public office by assaulting and abusing prisoners, but cleared of causing actual bodily harm and unlawful wounding.

Durham Police said that Onslow and McGee have launched appeals against their convictions. 

The five men are due to be sentenced at a later date.

Judge Crowson told Bramley and Blakely – the final two to be convicted – they could be released on bail.

He said: ‘I do not have any doubts about you returning, you must understand when you return, there are possibilities including prison. 

‘I will have to decide whether that is the appropriate sentence on the next occasion.’

Where was Medomsley Detention Centre and what was it used for?

In a terrible irony, Medomsley Detention Centre was set up to keep young offenders out of prison and away from the influence of older criminals.

For these teenagers were subjected to routine violence and mistreatment at the hands of the grown men who were supposed to look after them and maintain order.

Built on the site of a Victorian orphanage near Consett in 1960, it was designed to house young offenders aged 17 to 21 to serve sentences for offences which today would not routinely attract a custodial sentence.

It could hold 130 inmates but typically housed around 70, mainly for northern England.

They would normally spend six to eight weeks at the Home Office-run centre before being released. It closed in 1988.

Neville Husband, former boss of the Medomsley kitchens, was jailed in 2005 for 10 years for a series of sex attacks on young inmates.

Medomsley Detention Centre (pictured in 1999) was set up to keep young offenders out of prison and away from the influence of older criminals

After working at the centre he went on to become a church minister and has since died.

Jamie Hill QC, prosecuting, explained to the three juries how detention centres like Medomsley were designed to house detainees convicted of more minor offences, while those who had committed more serious offences would be sent to borstal training.

He said that the central goal at borstal was the rehabilitation of the young people sent there, adding that detention centres, in contrast, were ‘a very different type of institution’.

Outlining the ‘quasi-military’ routines that existed there, he said that the young offenders would be made to follow strict timetables, with an emphasis on obedience to staff.

Mr Hill said that centres like Medomsley operated on a ‘short sharp shock’ mantra, but added that corporal punishment was only allowed when necessary, such as in self-defence or to restrain a detainee.

The centre was the scene of widespread abuse of young inmates between 1960 and its closure in 1988. It is pictured derelict in 1996 

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[oneworkersopinion-blog]

Big Business

          How did we get hoodwinked into believing that billionaires and businessmen have all the answers? Even worse, how did we become so tightly held in their grasp that we believe everything they say, automatically giving them whatever they want. Like every elite group, they think the rules don't apply to them. In spite of anti trust laws, companies have been allowed to buy or swallow each other up at an alarming rate. We now have multi national conglomerates that can’t be contained in any one country. Exxon-Mobil even said they ARE a country with their own foreign policy! A policy that often conflicts with U.S. Foreign policy! These companies are amassing more and more power every day as they grow ever larger. They have taken over this country right under our noses, buying elections, corrupting Congress, and manipulating the average person. We have unknowingly been slipping into Oligatchy for years now. The will of the people is largely ignored now, replaced by the will of the few.

            I think the reason we don’t realize how much big business freeloads off of us is because it started gradually sometime back in the 1980′s. Over the years, it increased so slowly we didn't notice. Just think about all the ways they con money out of us: tax incentives, subsidies, tax loopholes, environmental cleanups from fracking, mining, and accidents, theft of oil, gas, water, minerals, (gold, silver, copper), timber and uranium from Federal Lands(our lands). They make billions while we get nothing but a few permit fees! I'm reminded of something I read recently. When big business gets financial support, it's called a subsidy;when ordinary citizens receive financial aid, it's called welfare! If these Corporations would pay for the cleanup of their own toxic waste (garbage), pay us a reasonable price for everything they take from OUR public lands, and pay their employees a living wage, we wouldn't need welfare and our national debt wouldn't be so massive!

             Nestle is a great example of  the theft of our resources. Nestle is so greedy, they took water out of California reservoirs even though California was in the middle of a severe drought! Do we get our water for free? NO, and we need water to live. Nestle just wants more profit because a billion +dollars a year isn’t enough! Are you angry and disgusted? You should be! I am.

              Now half of the voters decided one of this selfish lot should be allowed to govern. With the election of billionaire Trump, the takeover will be complete. He is trying to pack the Cabinet with business and Wall Street extremists who want to gut the agencies they will run! Along with an extremist Republican run Congress, he wants to get rid of all government regulations on Wall Street and big business. Do we seriously believe that they will regulate (police) themselves? You have a greater chance of being struck by lightning inside your home! You can be sure that they will run amok again, just like they did when the Bush Administration repealed the existing laws regulating Wall Street and big business. They came alarmingly close to destroying the economy completely! Now Trump and his sheep want to do the same thing all over again. Wall Street and big business are licking their chops in anticipation of more giant paydays. They are arrogant because they have nothing to lose. When it all collapses again, their friends will bail them out with our tax money and give them a free pass. You can be sure that this Congress will rob us again to bail these con artists out. 

                Over the years most people have been convinced by businessmen that rich people or anyone who runs a company is somehow smarter and more qualified to do a better job of governing than public servants with college degrees (usually law degrees) and years of experience. While business has thrived ruling itself, “"we the people “"have not! The main problem here is a conflict of purpose. Government and business have opposite goals. The main objective of business is profit, while Government exists to serve the people. These two goals are incompatible. Asking a businessman to be (think like) a public servant is like asking a mechanic to think like an artist. Neither one can do it because each one has a completely different perspective on life. They think differently and have different priorities. A dedicated public servant (Yes, they do exist!) asks how a public need can be addressed, while the businessman asks how much it will cost. While reasonable profit is a good thing for business, it can be a disaster for Government. We saw that recently in the Flint, Mich. water crisis and the Christmas Eve sinkhole that opened up in Frasier, Mich. We also saw what happened when prisons were privatized. The private company that ran the prisons neglected regular maintenance, ignored the prisoners, and offered big bonuses to wardens who kept their prisons full. What could go wrong there? Of course, this led to innocent people being thrown in jail to keep them full. Who couldn't see that coming? Things kept getting worse (corruption) until finally the Government had to take the prisons back. Guess who got stuck paying for all the repairs needed to restore the prisons to their original condition. That’s right, taxpayers! The same thing happened with V.A. Hospitals.  The difference was the much higher costs of clean-up and repair. They were a lot higher because of the horrendous conditions of the hospitals. Not only were we stuck again for businesses bad behavior, but our veterans had been subjected to filth, rats, bugs, and substandard care! Is this really the kind of treatment they deserve after being injured defending us? While the VA still has problems, the hospitals are clean, up to date and our vets get excellent care. The main problem now is inadequate staffing. Of course, the Trump Administration says no more staff is needed. They have put a hiring freeze in effect for Federal employees. And so it goes.

         These are the kinds of things that happen when profit (money) is the bottom line. Unfortunately, we haven't learned our lesson. People are still falling for the old privatize con because they don't think Government can do a good job. This is a lie circulated by big business (the rich) for their own selfish purposes. Greed can never be satisfied. That's why it's one of the seven deadly sins. The other reason they won't stop is that, like all con artists they think we deserve to be fleeced because we are stupid enough to let them do it! If we want to stop being used and abused, we need to throw big business out of our Government and hold Congress accountable. The truth is, big business is just as wasteful, corrupt, and incompetent at times as the Government can be. The larger an entity becomes, the more opportunity there is for these problems to exist. One hand doesn't know what the other one is doing and oversight becomes more difficult. 

          The good news is that we can get the Government we want if we are willing to do the work. Value the truth above all else and fact check everything. Stop being sheep , believing what your told because you like the person or it's what you want to hear. Listen to different points of view because no one has all the answers. Engage in meaningful discussions with a free exchange of ideas. Show Congress that we are their boss by kicking them out of office when they refuse to do their jobs. We have to start working together again and begin to compromise for the common good. Compromise is the foundation of a successful society.

           In closing, I want to make it clear that I do not hate businessmen or rich people. Business and labor need each other to survive. We all suffer when that relationship is out of balance. They need us to do the work and buy their products. We need jobs. What I object to is multi national conglomerates that have no interest in the welfare of their country. I object to anti trust laws that aren't enforced allowing these monsters to exist. I have no desire to live in an Oligarchy. That's not what I signed up for. I WANT MY DEMOCRACY BACK!