#criminal justice II | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honeykaes · 6 months

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three rounds

boxer!wriothesley x reader II 3.0k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, boxer! au, modern au, blood, fighting (boxing), rough sex, wriothesley picks reader up, standing full nelson, semi-public sex, creamipes, fingering, overstimulation, dacryphilia, dumbification, childhood friends to lover, secret dating, mention of the criminal justice system, implied family abandonment, unedited

synopsis: you and wriothesley had been best friends for ages. you were there when he broke ties with his rich family, when he failed the police academy and now in his success in the boxing ring. this will be the match to decide if he earns the belt and he wants his cheerleader, whom he's secretly dating, to be there in the front seat to witness it.

The glare from the bright white spotlights made you squint and lift your hand up. Black spots littered your vision as you adjusted and stared down at the ring in front of you. Crowds surrounded the entire ring, cheering and yelping in delight excited for the match getting ready to begin.

This was the final match to determine who received the golden belt any professional boxer in England clawed their way to attain. To get it, they would have to rip it out of the claws of the previous boxing champion, Attainer. This would be no easy feat, but you knew that would not stop him from achieving his goal.

“Now we have the underdog, quite literally! Can we get some noise for the newbie with attitude Wriothesley!” the announcer yelled out from the speakers. As soon as he was introduced, the crowd’s noise grew louder, admiring the man coming out. His short black hair was as scruffy as ever, adorned with streaks of gray he insisted wasn’t from age. His eyes, piercing icy blue, looked to the crowd in determination as he lifted his arm up waving to them and a lopsided smirk.

He was extremely muscular wearing his scars littering throughout his chest, neck, and face with pride. As he slung under the ropes of the rings, he gazed at the crowd once more as they cheered—eyes scanning for someone until they settled on their own. His eyes softened and his smirk grew, winking over to you as your heart fluttered.

“Oh my god! He actually noticed me! This is the best day ever!” a girl cheered behind you. You chuckled to yourself fighting the urge to turn around and spoil her fun. No one in the ring would know that look was for you, and you alone.

You and Wriothesley have been together for a few years now. You were there when he was at rock bottom and you would be there when he finally took the heavens or himself.

“Round one! Fight!”

You knocked on the shabby door, hearing banging from the other side as your heart pumped in your chest in anxiety. Wriothesley had been avoiding your calls all day since he got out of prison and was under probation.

“Wriothesley! Open the door!” you yelled out. No response came except for the constant sound of smacking. Your hand grabbed on the handle turning it only for the door to crack open. A yelp escaped your lips watching a cockroach scutter across the floor into the hallway from the hallway. Cursing silently to yourself and surprised Wriothesley still didn’t say anything, you closed the door looking over to see the barren studio apartment.

There was hardly anything in the tiny space beside a mattress that was directly on the floor with some blankets thrown across it, a large bean bag chair to the side, and a large punching bag swinging in the middle of the room. The sound of smacking echoed out once more as Wriothesley continued to punch it, still not facing you.

Earbuds were placed in his ears, your sounds must've been drowned out by how loud he was playing his music. You slowly approached him, calling out his name once more as he continued to ignore you. With a sigh, you placed your hand on his back. He immediately tensed up and he turned around.

He scowled over to you, frowning prominent on his lips. Bags were under his eye, a fresh cut seemed to linger there too. He must’ve got it before getting out of prison. Your eyes softened in pity and Wriothesley took his earbuds out and sighed.

“Are you okay? You’ve been ignoring me for days since you got out,” you murmured. Wriothesley grumbled under his breath and sighed, wiping the sweat clinging to his brow. He must’ve been exercising for a while now.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to always check on me like you did when we were kids. I’m not the little rich kid trying to understand public school anymore…” Wriothesley muttered. You clinged your tongue, rolling your eyes at his response.

“Yeah, you’re not, which is why I don’t know why you are acting like a kid and avoiding me. We're friends. You got arrested and kicked out of the police academy, of course I want to check in with you and make sure you’re okay. Shit sucks, understatement of the year, but I want to help you through this,” you replied. He doesn’t respond and looks away, eyes narrowing in shame. Your eyes flickered down to his ankle bracelet, blinking. It will be six months before it’ll come off and he'll be free from it.

“Please can you just…” you sighed, “You don’t need to carry all of this by yourself. I’m not going to abandon you no matter how many times you try to push me out. We are in this together. I promised that to you before and I mean it now.”

Wriothesley remained quiet walking over to his mattress before collapsing on him, the springs creaking loudly as they adjusted to the new weight.

“Frankly, I’m not sure why you seem so adamant about staying beside me. Why? Do you got a crush on me or something,” Wriothesley murmured, covering his eyes with his hand. There was a pause as you struggled to say anything and simply looked away. Noticing you not saying anything, Wriothesley uncovered his face looking over at you in shock before it softened. A chuckle soon rattled throughout the tiny studio apartment.

“Ah, I guess that explains it then, huh?” he murmured, looking over to his hand covered in sports tape. He flexed his fingers, pondering the words he wanted to say to you as butterflies flew throughout your stomach. Was he going to send you out? Was he going to pretend you didn't say anything?

“...I don’t regret going to jail for what I did. I know what I did wasn’t wrong but naturally bastards with more money than me can get away with it and paint me as the villain to absolve them from their crimes,” he murmured getting up in front of you.

“I’m not going to let that stop me though,” he murmured. The pitter-patter of the rain outside hit the window as Wriothesley chuckled once more.

“London is like this, gloomy, gray with pricks who take advantage of the disadvantaged. This city eats up anyone they can. I don’t plan on being part of the menu. Something good will come out of all this shit…” he murmured. His fingers lifted your chin and a soft smile curled on his once serious expression.

“Besides, I think things are shaping up positively in some ways already. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Once his probation period ended, Wriothesley went to the gym often to clear his mind when he wasn’t working at his part-time contracting job. He wanted to join an amateur boxing ring, only for his skills to gain the attention of recruiters looking for more talent in the professional ring.

Signing on to a team and management, Wriothesley quickly flew through opponents. The crowd had deemed him as “Cerberus” for his scruffy yet handsome appearance along with his famous three-punch combo.

It had been three years since you two started this journey and this match would show if it was worth it.

“Ooh! The Attainer got a left hook to connect the frazzling crowd favorite! Can the doggie get out of this or will the beat finally get tamed!”

You snapped out of your thoughts, clenching your jaw seeing Wriothesley stagger from that hit. Blood began to dribble from his lip. A flash of anger shot through his eyes as he glowered at Attainer with frustration. As Attainer went for another blow, Wriothesley swiftly dodged to the left. Time for the final round was ticking down quickly, he’d need to make this count if he wanted to win.

Dodging another attack and seeing an opening, Wriothesley quickly rushed his gloved fist forward connecting it to the champion, Attainer.

“One,” he muttered, drowned out by the deafening noise and muffled from his mouthguard. Seeing the opening swift to try to adjust, Wriothesley refused to let him, connecting another punch in the stomach to his opponent. Attainer gasped, the wind knocked out of him from the blow.

“Two,” he grunted, dodging another desperate blow from Attainer. With one more opening he saw, Wriothesley went in again connecting his final blow to Attainer’s face.

“Three!” he grunted. Attainer staggered, body fumbling to the ground as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The referee sprung from outside the ring, smacking his hand down to the side of the opponent, counting those three numbers. Wriothesley stood to the side, chest gleaming in the stage light from his sweat as the crowd cheered in bewilderment and excitement.

“TKO!!”

Roars of cheers echoed throughout the stadium. You couldn’t stop grinning, joining in the celebration as Wriothseley lifted his arm up signaling his victory against the champion. Flashes of light flickered off as press and camera from fans, sports journalists, and anyone wanting to gobble every opportunity and second, they could to get this shot. His eyes wandered to yours, smiling wide as you gave a small wave back.

As a camera quickly came into the ring, a microphone shoved in his face to conduct the first interview of the new champion, you slowly got up from your seat and the chaotic cheers of the stadium and headed to his private quarters in the locker room to wait for him.

Thirty minutes went by before the door flew open and slammed shut as he entered. As soon as his eyes met yours, he walked up to you, arms wrapping you in a tight hug. You chuckled, wrapping your arms around Wriothesley’s torso, smelling the sweat wafting from him.

“I told you doll,” Wriothesley smirked, as you chuckled once more.

“You did!” you chimed with a wide smile. Wriothesley leaned in close, lips millimeters away from one another.

“And you know what I want more than anything,” he whispered, capturing your lips. His hands settled against your ass, squeezing the soft globes as you gasped, placing your hands on his. He massaged it, tapping it as he finally let your kiss go—a translucent string of saliva connecting your now glossy lips with his.

“W-What?! What if someone sees us? You built your reputation back up just to risk destroying it with a stupid scandal. ‘New champion has a partner caught fucking in the stadium!’ The press will eat us alive,” you stammered out. Wriothesley chuckled lowly, nibbling your earlobe.

“If they give me shit, who cares? It’s my managers who thought it best to keep our relationship a secret. I should get to celebrate how I see fit. They get their win and I get you, everyone’s happy,” Wriothesley whispered, grinding his hardening cock against your leg. You sighed at his response.

“What am I going to do with you,” you muttered. You gasped as Wriothesley smacked his palm down on your ass —the sting of dull pain shooting through your body.

“Fuck me, that’s what.”

Wriothesley brought his lips down to yours once more, the adrenaline from the match still coursing through his veins. He takes his shorts off, heavy cock popping up and rolling against his chiseled abdomen. It lulled to the side against his black happy trail, flushed tip already budding with precum as veins pulsated throughout the thick flesh.

You lowered yourself on your knees, grabbing onto his length as he sucked a sharp breath in. You smeared the precum, finger playing with his sensitive tip. You pumped a few times before opening your mouth and taking him into your mouth. The familiar salty taste of sweat and precum hit your tongue as you bobbed your head.

“Aww, giving me a little reward? You shouldn’t have,” he teased, grabbing a fistful of your hair. Your tongue swirling along the tip, sucking hard as Wriothesley’s body shuttered and hips slightly faltered. His nails dug into his thick thighs, trying to contain himself as you continued to suck and swirl against him.

“That’s it. Open up a little wider for me lovely,” he murmured, using his other hand to tap at your throat. He used the grip he had on your hair to sink you further down his cock. You fought the urge to gag, but he had trained your throat to fight against the feeling. You soon completely had his entire length down your throat, nose brushing against the thick hair of his bush.

He pulled them away, as an audible pop echoed throughout the small room while you caught your breath. Drool leaked from the side of your mouth, eyes watching as Wriosthelsey continued to jerk at his cock. It twitched in his grasp.

“Open your mouth for me like the good doll you are,” he murmured. You obeyed, opening your mouth wide as a low groan ripped from his lips, tip hovering over it. Globs of cum shot from him, falling on your tongue as you resisted the urge to spit or swallow. His hips shuttered, bucking a few times before he finally began to soften and leaned over wiping some that managed to spill out on the corner of your lips.

“Swallow for me…” he cooed. His smirk widened watching your throat bobbed as you did, trying not to shiver from the taste.

“So good for me. Get up. I think it’s time for the spotlight to be shared,” he murmured as you got on your feet. His hands gripped your bottoms pulling them down and onto the ground, before your underwear went with it. He haggardly popped a few buttons off from your blouse, showing off a bit of your chest to him. You could feel him beginning to grow against your thigh.

“Wriothesley!” you yelled out, as he lifted you up. His hardening cock slides against your drooling slit, gathering up the slick clinging onto your cunt. He does this growing harder before he’s finally fully erected once more. Wriothesley hooked his forearm against the back of your knees and leaned against the wall before he sank into the warmth of your cunt—roughly plunging inside of you.

You moan in surprise at the position, your body bouncing from his quick thrusts. Objects hung on the wall bang to his pace as the sound of smacking skin reverberated throughout the locker room.

He finally put one of your legs down, in the process reaching deeper inside of you as your body jolted in pleasure. With his now free hand, he moved his palm striking your needy clit—the shock of the pain and pleasure caused your walls to flutter down on his cock, as he groaned in delight.

“You like that, I felt just how tight you gripped me just now,” he cooed, nibbling against your neck. His fingers continued to toy with your clit, rubbing tight circles and occasionally smacking his fingers down on it. Your body shivered at the simulation he was giving you, cock brushing against the spot that made you see stars.

“Fuck! Wriothesley. There, there! There!” you babbled out, tears beginning to prick your eyes.

He shifted his position and grip on you, turning you around so your back was to the wall and keeping you up with one hand gripping tightly against your ass. Your legs had instinctively wrapped around his waist, allowing him to rut against that spot with more precision. His eyes lingered on your chest, admiring the flash of your pebbled nibble that would greet him with every bounce of your body.

His hand grasped your jaw, his blunt nails digging to the sides of it,

“Gonna cum for me? Yeah?” he murmured, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip as you rapidly nodded, tears beginning to cascade down your face. He grunted, feeling your walls cave in making it harder to continue to buck inside of you.

“Show me how good a champion’s cock is then,” he grunted. With more nodding and babbling of his name, your eyes rolled to the back of your head—body arching as you finally reached your high, shivering in pleasure.

Wriothesley pistoning his hips sloppier, let out a low moan of your name before shutting his eyes and connecting his lips with your own. His hips faltered, ropes of cum spilling inside of you and filled you to the brim with his essence.

Lifting his head up, he chuckled noticing your fucked-out and tired expression moving your body in his arms before placing you down on the couch. He admired your chest slowly rising from your chest, eye makeup messed up and smeared from your tears.

“Sorry, was that too much for you,” he murmured with a smile, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He went over and put his shorts on, tucking his softening cock beneath it. You groaned, lolling your head to the side as Wriothesly approached you again. His cum was beginning to leak down your thighs. He couldn’t stop himself from pumping two fingers into your overly sensitive cunt, pushing his cum back inside of you as you whimpered at the sensation.

“Don’t worry. Just rest here and we can leave afterward for dinner, if you’re still up for it that is,” Wriothesley murmured. A knock on the door caught his attention as he got up and walked over to the door, cracking it so your form was completely hidden by his stature. He scowled, only for his gaze to turn to shock seeing Clorinde, his manager glare at him. She let out a side, crossing her arms.

“Next time you plan on fucking your partner, please do it when I don’t need something in the locker room, that is not ours I’d like to add, and have to wait elsewhere until you’re done to do so. The papers are on the table, I expect to see them on Friday when you show up for our press briefing,” she grumbled before walking away.

Wriothesley chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“My bad, Clorinde…”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley imagines #wriothesley scenarios

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theminecraftbee · 2 months

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> check social links

(Which Social Link should I check on...?)

0 FOOL School Rescue Committee Should this really be an official school club? The group of Persona-users that I'm in now, whether I like it or not. At least I'm helping people by doing all this weird magic nonsense...

I MAGICIAN Scar A fellow Persona-user a year below me, although my senior in fighting Shadows. He's dragged me into his scam crystal-selling operation, which is actually weirdly fun.

II PRIESTESS Beef Pretty large and muscular for a priestess, but sure, I'll bite. A volunteer EMT who is trying to decide whether to follow his family's wishes for university.

III EMPRESS Gem A fellow Persona-user in my year. She wants me to help her study for entrance exams, apparently. Not sure why she's asking me, I missed an entire semester? But it's good enough study for me as well.

IV EMPEROR Impulse A fellow Persona-user in my year. He has a single-minded devotion to overworking himself, despite the fact he seems to be trying to prove it's fine for some reason.

V HIEROPHANT Xisuma An older man who hangs out in the local tea shop. Keeps trying to parent me for some reason, although it seems like his relationship with his actual family's a bit less good, so maybe that's why.

VI LOVERS Etho My lab partner. The whole school's obsessed with him for some reason. My only solace is that he seems to be just as disconcerted by that fact as I am.

VII CHARIOT Skizzleman A fellow Persona-user in my year, and my first friend in this town. I'm helping him find a part-time job. He's sort of ridiculously cheerful, but I know he understands me better than most people.

VIII JUSTICE Grian A fellow Persona-user a year below me, although my senior in fighting Shadows. Keeps dragging me into his pranks, although for such a gregarious guy, he's weirdly isolated.

IX HERMIT Joe Hills One of my teachers, and the head of the School Rescue Committee. He's, frankly, the most bizarre guy I know, and I don't know what to make of any of the "wisdom" he tries to impart on us.

X FORTUNE Tango Apparently, he's a bit of a prodigy in the robotics club, but he first came to me to confess he's considering quitting. I have no idea why this is my problem, but Impulse frowned at me about it, so here I am.

XI STRENGTH False A local martial artist who's been decorated with a number of titles. I just wanted her to teach me how to fight better, but apparently, she's starting to doubt her own fighting ability as well.

XII HANGED MAN Jimmy Igor's assistant in the Velvet Room. He's a bit of an idiot, but he's also my idiot. Mostly wants to request I escort him to places in the human world, although he wants specific fusions sometimes too.

XIII DEATH Cleo A "florist" in town who can source us weapons and fence goods from Altered Space. I'm pretty sure she's actually Yakuza, or at least criminal. She and Joe know each other, although strangely, she doesn't seem to remember from where.

XIV TEMPERANCE Iskall and Stress Two priests at the local shrine. I work for them occasionally to help them with odd jobs around town. They share some common past they don't like to talk about.

XV DEVIL Ren The student council president. He's bizarrely mad with power on a good day, which is weird, because he's also bizarrely kickable on a good day. Keeps on trying to rope me into the Student Council.

XVI TOWER Doc An inventor trying to invent a safe new clean energy source. According to rumors, his last try exploded, killing his lab partner, which constantly makes me question why I'm here.

XVII STAR Zedaph Proprietor of the famous local "Mystery Stir Fry Extravaganza". Frankly, his creations terrify me more than Doc's do. I have no idea why this is Impulse's favorite restaurant.

XVIII MOON Mumbo A fellow Persona-user in the year below me. Apparently, he still gets bullied a lot, but he has a scheme to, and I quote, 'learn to be something scary, like a horse.' Good luck with that, mate.

XIX SUN Pearl An artist that I've always admired. Recently, she was in a terrible car accident, and her hands now constantly shake because of it. I still think she can draw organic shapes better than me, though.

XX JUDGEMENT Soul Reappearance Committee Judgement. Hah. I guess you'd call this Judgement Day, sure.

XXI THE WORLD ... It's me.

#smallishsona au #a bee fic #WOO I HAVE THE FINAL LIST OF EVERYONE!#some of joel's descriptions here actually give away the social link plotline #but a FEW of them actually do not.#but WOO HERE ARE THE SOCIAL LINKS! :D

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smallfrenchstudyblr · 6 months

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Justice as spectacle in Fontaine, or a too long word vomit from a tired PhD in Law gushing over Genshin 4.0

Alternative title: “Justice must be seen to be done”, a visual playbook by Genshin 4.0

Intro: This is a valid use of a PhD in law, actually.

I made the mistake of playing the 4.0 update of Genshin while I was finalizing my PhD in law and politics, and the result was my brain refuse to think about anything else than judicial performativity and the use judicial spectacle in Fontaine. So time to make good use of 9 years of University by dissecting why I absolutely love how Fontaine’s justice system is presented. It was initially much longer and covering why justice as a spectacle is not necessarily an issue or sign of a disfunctionning legal system, then what exactly about the Fontainian justice system is actually fucked up, but it got too long so I’m keeping that for the indeterminate future. So the pitch of this thing is: Mihoyo is basically providing us with an animated First Person POV game version of legal ethnographic works on justice and the courthouse, and it is really cool.

And since I am a nerd with both too much time to read and to play, we are making this a proper academic, with literature and all, because listen to me, LEGAL ACADEMICA IS COOL, ACTUALLY, and law and literature at large is a genuine field of study that we, as a society, need to talk about more.

[also there is non-zero chance that I edit this brainrot and submit it for publication at some point]

Warning: I am basing this on 4.0, up to and including Act IV Chapter II (hence no discussion of the prison system) and if Mihoyo thwarts the whole thing with 4.1 [oops I am late so now 4.2, since 4.1 did not thwart it] then let’s do what we do when new results contradict existing theories in academia and just collectively agree to ignore it.

TL;DR: Someone at Mihoyo read Simonett’s 1966 essay on The Trial as One of the Performing Arts [Here, just read it, it is fascinating] and decided to make it everyone’s problem

Part 0: if this was not Tumblr.com I would make a recap explaining broadly what Genshin and Fontaine are but since you are reading this I’m going to assume you already know the context.

Part 1: Ok so how does the Fontanian Justice system work, exactly?

Alright, so each area of Teyvat has 1) one core theme/value and 2)a threat to that core theme/value.

Mondstadt has Freedom and people living in fear of a dragon.

Liyue has Contracts/order and the pandemonium of having Rex Lapis killed.

Inazuma has Eternity and being virtually frozen in time.

Sumeru has Knowledge and being entirely manipulated by the Akademia.

Fontaine has Justice and… Justice being parodied into a spectacle?

WRONG.

Because the spectacle of justice, especially the way it is done in Fontaine, is not antithetic to Justice itself. Spectacle is part and parcel of Justice and of any courthouse. Sure, all the dials are turned to 11 and y’know, it is legit called an Opera, but that is more the writers being a bit on the nose and adding drama for the player. The spectacle of Justice, itself, is not that far off from reality. And, hot take but bear with me: it is not (necessarily) a problem.

Ok, let’s dive into what we know of the justice system in Fontaine.

Broadly speaking, we have seen the criminal justice system, and it is an accusatorial, or adversarial model. It’s the US-style criminal procedure: you have a defendant trying to prove that they didn’t do it your honor, and a prosecutor proving that they totally did it your honor. To avoid this becoming a fistfight, you have a strict procedure to follow outside but especially inside the Court, and in the end, a neutral third party decides on the outcome or the trial.

Ok, now let’s zoom on a few things, and why the theatrics of them are actually very common.

Furina, our cringefail darling, is the prosecutor. And they get a lot of stuff right regarding the role of the prosecutor! She decides whether or not to prosecute, based on the information that she has, and whether she likes her odds or not. Fittingly since she is the Archon, the prosecutor in a trial represents the State, the interest of the State (the judge ! does ! not!). It makes sense that Furina, the ruler (theoretically) would be prosecutor and not judge. Moreover, and as we see plenty of times during the trials, Prosecutor Furina is not concerned with the victim, and not even necessarily with the truth; the prosecutor wants to know how likely they are to obtain a conviction in the end. Her job is to be convincing enough to establish a legal truth.

Neuvillette, for his part, sometimes look terribly powerless… but friends, that is what a Judge sitting during a criminal case often is. The first part of his job is to find sufficient information for the prosecution to decide whether or not to prosecute; he is supposed to be entirely neutral at this stage. He kickstarted the investigation straight after the death of Cowell, and was also the one starting investigation on Vaughn right after Lyney is proved innocent. He gathers enough evidence, hands them over to Furina and asks “So? Are you game or do you want to leave that alone?”

And once the prosecutor has decided to move forward with prosecuting, his job is to make the procedure move along, take some decisions based on new information, ensure all respect the rules (hence Childe’s immediate smackdown when he starts to act out a bit too much at the end. My man is here to make sure the rules are enforced and that also applies to Snezhnayan gremlins). In the liminal space of the courthouse, he is the supreme authority… over the procedure. He can tell anyone, including Furina, to stfu k thx. He starts and stops the trial. He allows witnesses to be heard or not.

And the last party involved at this point is the defense, usually the Traveler and any adorable twink we befriended that day [good for you, Traveler, good for you]. They present evidence, they have to be convincing, it’s basically Ace Attorney, we know that part.

Part 2: Mihoyo makes it clear that we are all actors in the Courtroom

Ok, first moment of pause.

Even though these are the most basic parts of a criminal trial, they are ALREADY steeped in drama and theatrics, both IRL and in Fontaine.

First off, Furina plays a prosecutor, Neuvillette plays a judge and the Traveller plays the lawyer.

No but really: they play their role in the Courthouse.

The game painstakingly presents Furina for the first time not as a prosecutor in a courthouse but as a cringefail princess. When we see her initially welcoming the Traveller, going “Fight Me” at them in the streets of Fontaine, she is not a prosecutor, she is just Furina the cringefail princess. We meet Furina as Furina, and later on only, we see her with her Prosecutor face. Furina is not a prosecutor, outside of the Courthouse.

I don’t even have to explain how much Traveler plays lawyer. We are, and I cannot stress it enough, NOT lawyers (yes, even you who developed an unhealthy obsession with Ace Attorney before Genshin). The developers even took the time to develop an entire new gameplay to really, really highlight that is a behavior that the Traveler can only have in the Courthouse. Traveler is not a lawyer outside of the courthouse.

Neuvillette is a bit of a special case. We do meet him for the first time in the Courthouse, as a Judge. But once again, the moment we meet him outside of the courthouse, he is much more approachable, definitely not the same persona as when he bitchslapped my problematic Harbinger into the Meropides prison [we are so going to write something about the Meropides prison once I have played enough 4.1 my friends – update post 4.1: ok Mihoyo that was weak commentary on the privatization of prison and prison labour but I’ll take it]. Neuvillette is probably the one that is the most associated with his courthouse persona, but there is still this gap between Neuvillette-Judge and Neuvillette-reflecting-in-the-end-of-Chapter-II.

So everyone is just themselves in their daily life, but there is something about a Courthouse that turns people into their judicial role. That’s what we call the liminality of the courthouse (Hadar, 1999). And it exists IRL, in a way shockingly close to what we see in the Opera Epiclese.

Magistrates, whether prosecutors or judges, do not act in their own names, they have a role to play. Someone woke up that morning, had breakfast, swore at the neighbour who did not park properly again, spilled some coffee on their documents again ffs, stumbled a bit on the little steps leading to the courthouse, and then, they put on their costume and started to play the role of the judge. As someone who has been in what can only be referred to as “backstage” of a court , and entered the courthouse with the magistrates, I cannot stress enough how drastic the shift in person is the moment a magistrate steps into the space of the trial room.

From there on, they are a Role. Furina, like any prosecutor, is not a prosecutor, until they are The Prosecutor, and then they are not themselves anymore, in the enclosed space of the courthouse. Have you ever seen a lawyer talk in their daily life the way to talk in a courthouse? No. Someone is just some person, until their put on the robe and their Lawyer Face and start their Lawyer Movement and Lawyer Tone. Traveler cannot go all OBJECTION when they have a disagreement with a random shopkeeper in Teyvat. The game doesn’t even give you the option – because you are not lawyer, unless you are in the court. None actually plays a lawyer, unless they are in the courthouse.

And an adversarial model encourages this. You have character, but for it to be a play, or an opera, you need a narrative (murder, ok, that will kickstart a narrative) and you need dramatic tension. Drama is created by the opposition of two characters having opposite goals, confronting each other. Simonett, a former Minessotta Supreme Court Judge, has a fascinating article called “The Trial as One of the Performing Art”, which really ecapsulates how an adversarial system is built on this drama:

‘The trial has a protagonist, and antagnonist, a proscenium and an audience, a story to be told and a problem to be resolved, all usually in three acts”.

More than an inquisitory model (hello, fellow continental Europeans), parties are encouraged to bounce off each other, take initiative, undermine and interact with each other. US courthouse TV shows loooove that, and Genshin absolutely leaned into that. The potential for drama was so strong and intrinsic to the story that For the first time, we got to play a character that was not even with the traveler: Traveler was off investigating, and we played Navia in the courthouse, because the sheer drama of being in the courthouse is too good for the game to pass.

Do you see it yet? Here is more. A judicial role is a role. IRL, a lot of it is emphasized by the robes -the - sometimes complete with wigs and accessories- that judges and magistrates must wear before entering the space of the courthouse. You put them on like you put on a costume -defendant, prosecution, judge and even audience alike (Cabatingan, 2018), there is a ritual of preparing for the performance of a trial the way you prepare for a play. Genshin characters cannot change their clothes [give us a proper fancy-af-judge-robe for Neuvilette Mihoyo you COWARDS], so the game does all it can to realllllyy show you a separation between the judicial role and the actor playing I in the courthouse.

Part 3: Game designers said yes this an Opera and a Courthouse because these are the same thing and they are right

[The urge to include Foucault in this section, but I do not have Discipline and Punish with me rn, rip]

Ok, ok, why not. But what about the stuff that is not in your random courthouse, like a damn AUDIENCE and the fact that it takes place in an actual OPERA ?

Aight, we gotta dive a bit deeper into two things: the role of audience in the judicial spectacular, and studies on legal architecture/judicial space. I told you legal research was cool.

Let’s start with the most obvious one: architecture.

The architecture of Courthouse is actually really important for the delivery of justice. The building embodies the task itself, and targets evert single person that interacts with the building in any way? It matters specifically because we take it for granted, that this this is just a building, that there cannot be more to it. Or: “Law in its everydayness, banks on the usage of visual means of representation, for they seem to lack artifice, and thus enjoy high persuasiveness” (Kumar, 2017, also this is a study on the architecture of the Indian Supreme court and it is so good). But thi is, of course, on purpose.

My friends, your local courthouse looks like an opera. Recently, I went to a play which was entirely a trial, and they barely had to do anything to set-up the scene because… the opera looks like a courthouse, and vice versa. Fontaine’s Opera Epiclese is this on steroid, and also actually used for entertainment like the magic shows, but its architecture and structure are so close to a proper courthouse that once you see it you cannot unsee it. Not matter how different they might look from each other, all, ALL courtroom have the same setup:

Judges on an elevated position compared to all other parties : Neuvillette absolutely kills it here [my man is placed so high up I was close to writing something about the religiosity of justice.]

Prosecution and accused on two opposite sides, virtually separated by the judge, even putting the defendant in their own little liminal space in the liminal space (Zoettl, 2016, Mulcahy, 2007)

Audience space and trial space clearly separated, with interdiction for the audience to enter the trial space

Audience space allowing to clearly see all angles of the trial space

The architecture of courthouse is strikingly similar to that of an opera’s, both in its spatial organization and its grandiose. The entire building is an opera, not just the ground of the stage. You even have a lobby, the space right in the Opera but not the courtroom, which is very similar to the space where people mingle during the interlude at the Opera – the social settings were many legal negotiations happen (Hansen, 2008)

[Fun fact: I am pretty sure the design of the audience space of the Opera Epiclese was inspired by two Parisian Opera houses: the Théâtre de la Comédie Française et the Théâtre du Châtelet. The stage itself is almost more church-like ; I am curious if anyone knows what the inspiration for the “outside building” actually was, for the Opera Epiclese?]

Eltringham (2012) has some really cool writings about the architecture, and people interact with the structure of courts (in his case, the International Criminal for Rwanda) and how all these features contribute to making the courthouse this liminal space where people can play their role, whether they realise it or not.

But, Almost-doctor, I hear you say, what about the spectacle ?! The audience enjoying the show ?!

Ah, yes. The audience. Just as with an Opera, the audience and the actors enter through differentiated means (the “segregation of circulatory systems”), all with their own point of access to the stage or the seats, and never the two shall meet. It is so important to a court system that you will find this feature highlighted by the architects that renovated the Bordeaux Courthouse and the US courthouse design and planning guide [These are just fun and striking illustration I stumbled on while writing this, you can find dozens of others from any given country]. These differentiated access path help reinforce the liminality of the courthouse not just for the actors, but for us, the audience as well.

You could even agree, with Garapon, that the audience itself is “playing” the audience, in the Courthouse (go read Garapon’s 2004 book, if you read French, it’s so good I swear and like it fueled 90% of whatever this word vomit is)). You are not really yourself, you have new, liminal role of spectator. A trial has a “need for a public”, even a silent one. “'Performance always intends an audience”, for Kapferere. and we can indeed talk about a Performance of Justice, when talking about how justice unfolds in the courthouse, especially in a criminal trial (Sausdal and Lohne, 2021).

The audience is an inherent part of the spectacle of justice – because is there a spectacle if there I no audience? If comedians perform a play with no audience, did it really happen? In the words of our own European Court of Human Rights (I am quoting the ECtHR on Tumblr.com, what is life): “Justice must not only be done, but must also be seen to be done” (Delcourt v Belgium, 1970). For Garfinkel “Legal rituals ... depend on the outside witness to confer on them not only recognition but validity” (Garfinkel, 1956);

Or, to put it more eloquently: “The need for the presence of a validating public at trials is enshrined in many constitutions and built into the very fabric of court complexes throughout the world. (…) Tthe court as a whole requires its reflection in the bodies of validating witnesses in order that this created place will bring sufficient gravity to itself.” (Eltringham 2012).

If a courthouse was just about the truth, or the parties involved reaching an agreement on what the truth is, there would be no need for the theatrics. We could handle a trial in a meeting group like problem-solving session in any run-of-the-mill company. Put everyone around the table, have a moderator, have a decider. That actually exist, it’s called arbitration, and you may have never heard of it despite the absolutely enormous amount of money that are involved (we are talking literal Billions of dollars every year, here), because the whole point is that it is discrete and confidential. But that is not how trials are, anywhere. It does exist though. It is called private arbitration, a form of private justice that focuses on problem-solving, expediency and secrecy, often because my friends, it involves big names and big money.

But justice? My friend, it needs to be a spectacle. It needs an Opera. Because this is how it gains sociological legitimacy, and it needs sociological legitimacy to function. By having an audience, it gains transparency and accountability.

Conclusion: teaser on why the spectacle of justice is not necessarily always totally bad, but also I am too tired to fully argue that.

Now, you might that it’s a bad idea. That what Genshin is doing is denouncing this inherently spectacular aspect of Justice, that there is something inherently wrong in justice being public and publicized for the gain of legitimacy, and sure, spectacular justice can become a parody of justice or a manipulation of justice and this has happened many times in history. And yes, you could go for that (although show trials have typically been at the service of an authoritarian regime in a transition phase, rising or declining, and target political opponents, which we do not see in Fontaine) but… I have another take for you.

Justice being a spectacle is not… inherently bad.

Hear me out. Making justice into a spectacle does not have to affect its outcome. The presence of a public does not change the course of a play.

Spectacular justice brings elements of entertainment such as narrative fulfillment and catharsis. That is clearly what Fontainians want: a satisfying end to the story, the truth exposed. Justice as a spectacle help people make sense of their reality, comfort them in knowing that justice does prevail. That the guilty do not go scott-free, that the good guys win, that justice is transparent, that prosecutor need to be able to build a good story to prosecute, and there is no good story is there is not someone who caused harm, and a victim that deserves justice. And, from the information we have so far, this does not seem to lead to miscarriages of justices, or a generally biased justice system. But frankly this is too long already and I just wanted to show that the depiction of the Spectacular in everyday justice is actually present everywhere IRL, and Genshin is just providing a really handy illustration, at this point of the story.

The Fontanian system is fucked, don’t get me wrong, but that’s not about the spectacular on its own. Long story short since it be worth its own word-vomit-style essay, it’s because the jury has been replaced by ChatGPT and there is no civil court, only a criminal court, k bye.

#I have no idea what this is it just would not leave my brain until it was written #genshin impact #tagging genshin bc it is the most relevant #law and literature #Usual followers feel free to ignore #Genshin people: this is NOT my usual content #might fuck around and turn it into something publishable at some point #this is probably still full of typo but I am not proof reading a word vomit that goes on this hellsite

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anarcho-smarmyism · 1 year

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so i finally went and fixed all the broken links to my educating to overthrow page, where i upload excerpts from nonfiction books i’m reading (sometimes one or two, sometimes nearly the whole damn book) for public consumption. i don’t have a laptop at home now to facilitate uploading quotes from any of the books i’m reading now, but since people have been recirculating a lot of these quotes since i reblogged a lot of them recently, i figured i would make another post directing yall to them.

if you find any of these quotes helpful or interesting, please find and read the whole thing -bonus points if you use your public library or buy locally (fuck amazon)!

“No one is going to give you the education you need to overthrow them. Nobody is going to teach you your true history, teach you your true heroes, if they know that that knowledge will help set you free.” -Assata Shakur

Educating to Overthrow - All quotes and links to educational works.

A link to Googledocs folder with PDFs of many educational works

Lies My Teacher Told Me

The Creation of Patriarchy

Stanford Law Review: Gender, Violence, Race, and Criminal Justice

How Nonviolence Protects the State (PDF)

With Allies Like These: Reflections on Privilege Reductionism (PDF)

The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness

Are Prisons Obsolete? (PDF)

Edward the Dyke and Other Poems

Delusions of Gender (PDF)

Imprisoned Intellectuals (Download PDF)

Between XX and XY: Intersexuality and the Myth of Two Sexes

Capitalist Realism (PDF)

The Revolutionary Ideas of Karl Marx (PDF)

The Conquest of Bread (PDF)

Rise of the Warrior Cop: The Militarization of America’s Police Forces

Locked Up by Alfredo M. Bonanno (Download PDF)

Testosterone Rex: Myths of Science, Sex, and Society (Download PDF)

Free Comrades: Anarchism and Homosexuality in the United States (PDF)

Killing Hope: U.S. Military and C.I.A. Interventions Since World War II (PDF)

Gender Outlaws: The Next Generation

A History of American in Ten Strikes

Insurrectionary Anarchism: A Reader (PDF)

The Principles of Anarchism (PDF)

The Abolition of Work (PDF)

Mutual Aid: A Factor in Evolution (PDF)

#trans #racism #anarchism #socialism #queer #education multiplies power

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kana-de · 6 months

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★ MENTALLY ILL BITCHES FROM HOMICIDE DEPARTMENT ☆

aka characters introductions.

masterpost / next

[name] - rank II detective. graduated from criminology university, after that enrolled in a police academy for an investigation course. worked for two years in homicide department, but had a large burnout from all the number of work and pressure, and quit for a year, now coming back to the same - not really same - place. [name] was a rank III detective before quitting, but now her place is taken by someone who seems to be getting promoted quickly.

scaramouche - rank III detective. graduated from criminology university with a master's degree and took crime analysis and criminal intelligence courses for another year. he monitored free places in the precinct for some time and, after seeing that he has a chance to get a job as a detective there (read as: after [name] quit and he saw a free job vacancy) immediately applied to practice in homicide department. was promoted to rank II almost instantly because of his abilities.

kazuha - intelligence analyst under sheriff's office. the only sane person out there. graduated from criminal justice and took practice in working with security threats and trending crimes. at first wanted to enroll into an IT major, but decided to just take programming courses and enroll in criminal justice instead, taking an intelligence analyst job after graduation. also, is the absolute cat lover #2 (or #3?), but due to the fact that he spends a lot of time on the computer, he has poor vision, and, usually, mistakes some heaps of garbage on the road with cats.

heizou - detective sergeant. graduated from criminology university with a master's degree (he shows off in front of everyone because of that). at first was a rank II detective like [name], but after solving two big cases which have been closed for nearly a year, got a promotion to a detective sergeant. specializes on finding all possible information, collecting evidence and analyzing it, takes most cases' investigations on himself and most people from homicide department rely on him a little too much.

albedo - forensic scientist. graduated from medical university with a speciality of surgeon, then found himself applying for practice in crime laboratories. despite his strange and, in some kind, even scary speciality, is an absolute cat lover that's why [name] - #1 cat lover on earth - liked him so much.

★ SOMEONE NOT FROM THE PRECINCT ☆

yanfei - attorney (lawyer). [name]'s highschool best friend. graduated from law university and got a juris doctor degree from an accredited law school. works in a court. helped [name] in many things - and continues to do so - such as pick a speciality in uni and help her mentally during the burnout a year ago. didn't want [name] to go back to working as a detective, worrying about that she may need therapy again.

★ synopsis - you worked as a professional detective in a nearby precinct for nearly two years, but then quit after having a burnout from all the work and pressure. now, a year and a full therapy later, you're back to that same precinct, but... your place is taken by another detective, sending you working a rank lower!

★ author's notes.

scara being the absolute BOOKWORM.

no jk i just wanted him to be badass.

★ taglist - open (comment to be added).

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matan4il · 2 months

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Amin al-Husseini docu: part 7

Translator's notes:

-> Auschwitz as a camp was huge, bigger than most cities. It was built in parts. The initial, concentration camp was built close to (and was named after) the Polish town of Oświęcim, called in German Auschwitz. It was later expanded, too. The extermination camp, centered around the gas chambers, was built in 1942, and by that point, the entire camp's area was so big, that this part was closer to (and named after) the Polish town of Brzezinka, called in German Birkenau. The concentration camp part was nicknamed Auschwitz I, the extermination camp part was Auschwitz II, Auschwitz-Birkenau, or just Birkenau. There was also an area known as Auschwitz III, where the factories using (mostly Jewish) slaves were.

-> The Sonderkommando were Jews who had been forced by the Nazis to operate the gas chambers. They were often selected based on being less able to communicate the horrors they'd seen to other Jewish slaves in the camp, for example many of the Sonderkommando were Greek Jews (while most European Jews were Ashkenazim, who shared the common Jewish language of Yiddish, the majority of Greek Jews were Sephardim, and spoke the Jewish language of Ladino. Thus, communication between the two groups was harder). Even when the Sonderkommando were physically capable of going on with their work, the Nazis would routinely exterminate them, to wipe out the witnesses of this industrialized genocide. My wonderful colleague, who you see interviewed in this docu, Professor Gideon Greif, in addition to writing one of the most comprehensive books about Auschwitz, also recorded the testimonies of the last surviving Sonderkommando, and published them in an emotionally difficult to read, but really important book, titled We Wept Without Tears. The photograph of Shaul Chazan, one of the last sonderkommando, is from a 1993 trip to Auschwitz, where Prof. Greif recorded a few of the testimonies, as they were being given in the place they were about. This docu has now been translated into English. The book was also the basis for the Oscar-winning film, Son of Saul.

-> The Capo was a camp slave, who was appointed by the Nazis to "supervise" a group of other camp slaves. In Nazi camps where regular criminals were incarcerated together with non-criminal groups, such as Jews, the Capos were often the former, because a part of the idea behind using the Capos was to implement a "divide and rule" system, meaning the less empathy the Capo had for those under his "supervision," the better. Some Capos did what the Nazis told them to out of fear, some enjoyed their new status and were abusive to their fellow camp slaves, and some Capos tried to use the position in order to help, even save, other slaves. I'm detailing this, because there's a misconception that all Capos were traitors.

-> Dieter Wisliceny was directly responsible for the murder of over 106,000 Jews from Slovakia and Greece alone (and he helped Eichmann with the extermination of over 500,000 Hungarian Jews, too). He was arrested by the Americans and NOT put on trial at Nuremberg. Wisliceny was eventually brought to justice by Czechoslovakia, which demanded his extradition.

-> I hope it's okay to add something personal, because the docu briefly shows a translation of a letter written by the Mufti to the Romanian Foreign Minister. My great uncle is Jewish Romanian author and Holocaust survivor, Norman Manea. He wrote about a part of what my family's been through because of the collaboration between the Nazis and the Romanians, as the Jews from eastern Romania were exiled to Transnistria by the hundreds of thousands to die there, in his memoir (which was translated into English), The Hooligan's Return. I have pictures of starved Jewish kids in Transnistria, their bodies look like skeletons everywhere, except their swollen bellies (a now known symptom of starvation). I don't bring these pictures to the museum, unless I have reason to believe I may have Holocaust deniers in the group, the pics are that terrible to me. Among the rescue attempts of Jews, the Mufti stopped a plan to save 80,000 Jews from Romania, and 5,000 Romanian Jewish kids exiled to Transnistria. I can't explain how I feel about that. He never paid for his crimes, they're not even recognized, but then the anti-Israel crowd screams that this is all about "the occupation," even though the State of Israel didn't even exist during WWII, when the Mufti sentenced to death a part of my people, a part of my community, and maybe even a part of my family.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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cogitoergofun · 4 months

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A group of former officials for Republican presidents urged a federal appeals court to shut down former President Donald Trump's claim of "absolute immunity" from criminal prosecution.

In an amicus brief accepted by the Court of Appeals in the District of Columbia on Tuesday, the officials said siding with Trump would "encourage" future presidents to commit crimes and stage coups to remain in power.

"Nothing in our Constitution, or any case, supports former President Trump's dangerous argument for criminal immunity," the officials wrote.

Justice Department Special Counsel Jack Smith brought criminal charges against Trump earlier this year, alleging he conspired to obstruct Congress and keep himself in power after losing the election to now-President Joe Biden.

Trump is trying to get criminal charges tied to election interference in 2020 thrown out. His attorneys have argued that he has "absolute immunity" for what he did as president.

US District Judge Tanya Chutkan, the federal judge overseeing the criminal case, rejected Trump's arguments. In a December opinion, she wrote that his presidency "did not bestow on him the divine right of kings to evade the criminal accountability that governs his fellow citizens."

Trump's attorneys appealed that ruling, bringing it to an appeals court in a bid to stop a trial scheduled for March from taking place.

In the brief filed earlier this month, the GOP former officials — who include former Deputy Attorney General Donald Ayer and conservative legal icon J. Michael Luttig — say that argument is an "especially weak case" that would undermine the Constitution.

"The last thing presidential immunity should do is embolden Presidents who lose re-election to engage in criminal conduct, through official acts or otherwise, as part of efforts to prevent the vesting of executive power required by Article II in their lawfully-elected successors," the group wrote in the brief.

Letting future presidents commit crimes to overturn election results they didn't like would turn the Constitution "on its head," they added. Such "boundless" immunity would "encourage" presidents who lose reelection to "employ criminal conduct" to stop the election winners from taking power, they wrote.

The group noted media reports that Trump's allies were encouraging him to use the military to enforce his election lies — and said a future president who lost reelection could deploy the military or armed federal agents to stage a coup if Trump gets his way.

"These terrifying possibilities are real, not remote," the officials wrote.

Among the other Republican officials who signed on to the brief are ex-Senator and UN Ambassador John Danforth; former Solicitor General under Ronald Reagan, Charles Fried; and Mickey Edwards, a former House lawmaker and chairman of the Conservative Political Action Conference.

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fatehbaz · 10 months

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And the penal colony was to remain a viable alternative to the penitentiary, not only in nineteenth-century Britain, but also in twentieth-century France [...]. But what might it mean to have a rigorous and distant form of imprisonment, located in a colony and continuing until the mid–twentieth century? [...]

---

French Guiana emerged as an early favorite for the placement of a French penal colony. [...] Daniel Lescallier, [...] authored a work entitled [...] (Exposition of the means by which to develop French Guiana). In it he points to the example the British have set in exporting offenders to the colonies [...]. Louis-Napoleon, still serving in the capacity of president of the republic, threw his weight behind [...] the exile of criminals as well as political dissidents. “It seems possible to me,” he declared near the end of 1850, “to render the punishment of hard labor more efficient, more moralizing, less expensive [...], by using it to advance French colonization.” [...] The era of the French penal colony was now open; the new French Empire had begun its Botany Bay, even as the British original [penal colony in Australia] wound to a close. [...] The double logic of the British system also drives the French imagination; proposals alternatively concentrate on a desire to punish criminals and rid the Metropole of their presence, on the one hand, and a hope of furthering the work of colonial expansion and economic progress, on the other. Within this logic the focus shifts between the need to colonize, the need to punish [...].

In the case of France, it shimmers with colonial fantasy, allowing future Australias to emerge on tropical horizons. [...] [T]he penal colony requires location. The specificity of the site matters; it is the very place that is to enact punishment [...]. The penal colony is in essence a geographic technique [...]. But despite frequent outcries and sensational reports, the French Guiana penal establishment continued to exist through the end of World War II. [...] As geography itself becomes a technique of isolation, the French penal experiment in Guiana threatens further ordeals implicit in separation from all that is civilized. [...] In sensational accounts these tropics incessantly punish [...]: “Fever and dysentery get every man! Clouds of buzzing mosquitoes and fire ants sting your aching body while you labor [...].” As the commandant of the bagne would inform convicts on their arrival, “The real guards here are the jungle and the sea.” [...] Many of the prisoners, after all, were from urban environments [...]. The terror of Devil's Island takes shape amid metaphoric invocations of the jungle and of the savage [...].

---

For those in Metropolitan France the penal colony served as a hidden punishment, a distant if graphic terror, retaining elements of torture out of public view. Yet it retained a veneer of reformation, for the convicts were still told to “make a new life for themselves.” In addition, shipping convicts away from France in the name of colonization cloaked their punishment in the robes of the “civilizing” mission: they would be part of an effort to build a greater France, to develop Guiana, and to integrate it into a Franco-world system. At the same time the bagne underscored that resistance to the humane norms of France could lead to decivilization and exile in the wilderness. [...]

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For those sent to French Guiana, however, the penal colony served directly as a public display, a constant reminder of the operations of justice. The convicts were not merely confined but forced to labor on public works. Official executions were performed by that once-humane instrument, the guillotine, but before an audience of convicts and by a fellow convict, far beyond the gates of Paris. A slower execution, that of the “dry guillotine,” the effects of the tropical climate, surrounded the entire process of deportation, reminding the convicts that this punishment could only happen here and not within Metropolitan boundaries. Theirs was a raw and primitive environment, one of torture and deprivation away from the public eye. Against the truth invoked in their conviction -- justice -- lay a suggested truth invoked in their punishment: no longer civilized, they were no longer human.

---

And for those already living in French Guiana, the penal colony also served as a public spectacle, if one not aimed directly at them or of their making. Not only did the proximity of prison life to their own lives parade the power of justice before them in an immediate fashion, but the constant importation of prisoners for this apparatus of punishment emphasized the particularly colonial nature of this power. Uncivilized elements were sent to them; their relation to France was that of a repository for human waste, and acts and punishments deemed unseemly for the homeland could still occur within their boundaries.

In addition, the appropriation of the names “Guyane” and “Cayenne” in myths of the bagne and “Devil's Island” precluded other identities, while burdening the area with a symbolic brand and a historical chain to France. “The bagne,” writes Ian Hammel, “left only a disastrous brand on Guiana.”

Brand here means “trademark” as well as “scar,” indicating purpose, function, and maker.

To be remembered as a penal colony is to be remembered not only as a prison, an exotic place of horror, but also as a colony, the object and product of another. [...] Modernizing France, a convulsive patchwork of provinces, cities, farms, and factories, casts its shadow overseas. [...] The penal colony takes shape at a crucial moment in European colonial understandings of place and labor. Slavery had just been abolished in the French Empire […]. If slavery were at an end, then the crucial question facing the colony was that of finding an alternative source of labor [...], not only in French Guiana, but also throughout colonies built on the plantation model.

---

All text above by: Peter Redfield. Space in the Tropics: From Convicts to Rockets in French Guiana. 2000. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]

#abolition #ecology #forests #imperial #caribbean #colonial #landscape #haunted #futures #modernity

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lucyandthepen · 9 months

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last eden - ii . | lmh

part i, ii, iii

only one thing has ever mattered to you, in this lifetime, and in all others : mark lee — even if he doesn't know yet, and even if he may never remember.

pairing: mark x reader verse: canon/idol!verse, soulmates trope rating: T warnings: none, i think! word count: 9k

A/N: i have not properly proofread this as i finished kinda editing at like 2am in what felt like a fever dream so if you see any mistakes, shoot me a quick message!

Going home is a traumatic experience, to say the least. You don’t actually get to leave the venue right away because, try as you might, you can’t escape the iron grip of the security guard who’s all but glued you down to the ground. You can’t do anything except watch the van speed off while a bunch of fans try (in vain) to follow it. You might have tried to follow it, too, except you already know you’re swimming in boiling water with the current viewing public (plus a couple of really miffed guards) and you might have gotten trampled on anyway.

You end up spending the next three and a half hours down at the police station. At first, you’re worried that they’re going to take your picture or something, but since you don’t have any kind of criminal record — well, until now — you end up waiting the entire time just to hear the chief of police grumble about how it’s too early for this kind of mess and why do all of these girls do all these crazy things for boys that don’t even know them. You don’t say much for the ten minutes it takes him to write your report and lecture you about how strong, young people should do something more substantial with their time and try to pick up skills that will help the community and sharpen one’s mind in pursuit of wisdom, which is really just a roundabout way of saying stop jumping idols. You leave the station with a heavy heart and a new strike against the justice system.

The bus stop is a no-go for you; it’s surely packed with fans who’ve no doubt spent the rest of the morning skipping class, eating breakfast, and probably talking about how outrageous you had been. The subway probably isn’t an option, too, so you end up taking a cab all the way back to your place, except you don’t actually have enough money to pay for the entire fare, so you’re forced to alight four streets away instead. You walk for about twenty minutes before realizing your body is crying in outrage for food; you hadn’t fed yourself at all this morning, save for the ten or so sips of water you had in the back of the M! Countdown studio.

With less than 10,000 won in your pocket, you end up just going into the nearest 7-11 and buying a triangle gimbap to avoid passing out completely on the street. You eat it just as slowly as you walk, partly because you want to savor it, but mostly because you want to avoid having to look Heehyeon in the eye.

Heehyeon. She probably knows everything. No, scratch that — you know she knows. She spends so much time on the internet that you’re sure she’d have her mind fused with a robot if she had enough money. Plus, she’d specifically told you not to do anything dumb, so of course she’d have kept an eye out for the actual dumb thing you really did.

When you arrive at your apartment, you linger behind the door. For some reason, you think about knocking, even though it’s your place and you have a key. You feel unfamiliar and unwelcome — pretty much the effects of ostracising yourself from the general public with just one dumb decision. Even though you decide there’s nothing for it except to face it head on, you try as much as possible to be silent when entering, hoping that Heehyeon has decided to skip out on all things digital today and just take a really long nap.

Of course, with the trajectory of your luck today, it’s no surprise that she’s sitting at the table with her laptop open and a half-eaten apple in her grasp, her free fingers scrolling quickly through what you assume to be the longest comments section ever. Her expression is tired — not sleepy tired but about-to-give-up tired. She doesn’t even have to look up for you to assume a guilty expression while you linger by the doorframe that separates the small kitchen from your living room.

“So what’d you get?” She asks, tone flat.

“A really long lecture and a couple of scratches on my forearm,” you try to sound light, but your attempt only causes the mood to darken a little more. “I didn’t have to pay a fine, or anything…”

Heehyeon glances up at you. You can tell she’s deciding whether or not to comfort you or chew your head off. Luckily, she’s intelligent enough to create a third option under the correct assumption that choosing either of the first two approaches would only end in tears for everyone.

“There’s still some pizza on the counter.”

It’s silent as you extract a slice from the box; the sound of the chair scraping against the floor raises the tiny hairs on your arm and the back of your neck at how loud it is. You don’t eat yet, though; you watch Heehyeon click click click click away, chewing on your bottom lip. It feels like a time for confession, but you’re not even sure where to begin. Before you can open your mouth to really say anything, she beats you to the punch.

“For future reference, when I say ‘don’t do something stupid,’ I mean—”

“Yeah,” you swallow hard. “You mean ‘don’t try to rip someone’s arm off in an attempt to get them to remember you.’ I know.”

“Okay, good. I’m just checking because this isn’t like back then in Greece where police didn’t exist.” She peers over her screen at you, expression unreadable.

“Rome was a better time, though.“ It had been a simpler time. No one had to wear socks with sneakers. You didn’t need an 8 to 5 job. Most importantly, Mark was in love with you. Your lower lip trembles at the memory.

“You all died in a natural disaster,” she reminds you. “But yeah.”

You two lock eyes properly for the first time, and something bubbles up in your chest. You’re not sure what gives you away; maybe it’s your flushed cheeks, or maybe it's the shaky inhale, or even the dangerous flutter of your eyelashes, perhaps. Whatever it is, Heehyeon has her laptop monitor down and is reaching over to clasp your hand in hers just before you burst into tears.

She doesn’t say anything, knows that words won’t really work right now. She just lets you cry it out, and you spend what feels like an hour shifting between weak hiccups, broken sobs, and unholy wails. You only really slow down when you feel like your throat is on fire already, and you have to sluggishly reach into your bag and dig out the water from earlier. Heehyeon’s thumb skates across the back of your hand idly as you try to make up for all the fluids you’ve lost; you even end up sloshing a good amount of the water down your front.

The passing of ten or so minutes sees you in a better state by a fraction; your eyes are puffy and your lips are swollen, but at least your lungs are processing a better amount of air now, and your nose, albeit being congested, has stopped running so much. It’s at this time that you find you still know some words, so you manage to blubber them out to your roommate.

“H-he looked at me like I wasn’t e-even human,” you choke out. “His f-f-face was so — I’d never seen him like th-that. He was mad — no, he h-hated me!”

“_____________, stop it.” She says firmly, and you’re not sure if she means stop saying that he hated you or if she means that you should stop crying, which is what you’re already threatening to resume. “You and I both know that your approach won’t win any congeniality awards this year, but he doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t even know y— okay, I’m sorry, I just meant —“

She’s torn between exasperation and pity as another sob resurfaces, and it takes her at least fifty I’m sorry’s and one trip to the fridge to get you another bottle of water to settle you back into silence. At this point, you’re cried out; your entire being is begging for sleep and you can no longer breathe through your nose.

“But you’re r— right.” You hiccup defeatedly. “He doesn’t even know me. I don’t know how to even get close to him. I just want to give up.”

Heehyeon lapses into silence, and a small voice in the back of your mind tells you she’s biting her tongue. She knows you won’t give up, but you can see she wants to support this decision. A part of you resents that, but in this state, you can’t help but feel like she would be right. Not trying would be a lot easier than trying.

“This just… means that you have to go down a different route. Try another less aggressive, less crazy way.”

“Everyone there must have thought I was crazy,” you groan. When she chooses not to say anything, she only confirms it. “What are they saying? Now, in the comments — what are they saying about me?”

“Nothing out of what would be ordinary.” She tries to spare you, her hand already pressed hard on her laptop, but you manage to move it away from her and turn it to face you instead. For a moment, Heehyeon looks like she wants to stand up and leave you in case you throw a fit, but she remembers she owns half the place, and the result of this is her half-standing before stopping and sitting back down again; she knots her fingers together nervously as you skim down the page she has open. The text isn’t surprising, but it’s not like the knowledge of that soothes your tattered spirit anyway.

NCT’S Mark ATTACKED BY SASAENG FAN

After NCT’s M! Countdown pre-recording today, Mark of NCT experienced a distressing event. As the idol group was about to leave CJ E&M Ent. Building, an unknown sasaeng fan broke through security and tried to abduct him. Area management was quick to apprehend her, and she has been taken to the appropriate authorities. Staff members quickly confirmed with us that Mark is safe and uninjured. His members are currently with him.

NCT will appear on M! Countdown for their special comeback stage tonight at 6PM to perform their newest title track, Favorite (Vampire).

TOP COMMENTS

[+1113, - 17] Ah seriously… it’s 2021 and sasaengs are still like this? Stop wasting your time on your oppas like this and study for your exams… stupid.

[+743, -122] NCT is really this popular. While I don’t condone any sasaeng activity, you can’t deny this is the result of being this famous…

[+556, -98] I was there when this happened. Really, it was crazy. She really looked like she was going to rip his arm off. I thought for sure he would die. So embarrassing…

[+89, -77] Desperate f***s. Haha. Does she really think Mark will fall in love with her like that? Ah,, really. It’s kind of funny. Dumb b****.

[+179, -2] The security should really be tighter. ㅠㅠ Mark-ah, don’t be discouraged!

Your insides have disappeared; there’s this dry hollowness in your stomach that allows you to push the laptop away without a word. Your pizza is still on your plate, but the crust is stale now and the most prominent topping on it is your tears. It’s a good thing that you’re not that hungry anymore.

“They… can’t be expected to understand,” Heehyeon tries carefully. You don’t say anything in response because you know she’s right, but it doesn’t make you feel much better. It also doesn’t make you feel much worse because, really, how much further down can your heart go? “I know you don’t really want to hear this right now, but I think it would be better if you just stayed low.”

“I know that.”

“Okay. I’m just — you know. I’m just saying.” You can tell she’s run out of comfort to offer; she’s no longer sure what to expect from you now that you’ve hit the top three on the checklist of what she had prepared for, which was (1) cry, (2) hate yourself, and (3) look at netizen comments that never promised anything good. You know that she’s willing to play it by ear and try to help, but you’re too tired. You had been up at the crack of dawn for virtually nothing, and you just wanted to crawl in the dark hole you called a room, sleep for ten years, and eventually die.

Except even that wouldn’t be an escape for you. Not really. Just another fresh start into a harder life.

When you stand, Heehyeon does too, and she holds out her hands carefully like she’s worried you’re going to keel over. You both know she doesn’t have the strength to actually carry you, though, so you bear with the sluggish, lead-like feeling your limbs seem to be constrained by and trudge into your room.

“I’ll turn up the air conditioning,” she says, breaking the silence. “I know you don’t like getting sticky when you sleep.”

You open your mouth, but nothing but a pitiful sound comes out. She waves it away, knowing what you mean. You’re thankful she’s this sensible at the best of times.

“For what it’s worth, __________, I—” she checks your expression again, just in case, before she continues. “I’m sorry this happened to you. But if there’s anything I know about you, it’s that you’ve never failed to make it work. I believe in you, even if you don’t really believe in yourself right now.”

Another sad noise escapes you, and Heehyeon nods in understanding, giving your arm a little squeeze before leaving to tamper with the temperature controls.

You should have noticed how dark the sky was today.

You should have, but you don’t because you have too much on your mind today — too many things to do. The main street is a fifteen minute walk from your house, and you have to be home by noon. There’s simply no time to take note of the weather.

You have to be more careful of where you step these days. The town had never fully recovered from the quake of 62, and the cracks in the pavement had deepened when the rainy season had started up; shallow, murky puddles now pepper the road, and you weave around them while trying to avoid any human collisions.

Everyone around you is wearing thicker, heavier clothes now. The turn of the season is near. It’s probably why the sun isn’t beating down on you, even if it’s close to its high. You tuck your limbs closer in as you cross the road, watching your feet to ensure you don’t slip on the rocks when you hop on them. There’s about a ten-inch interval between each one, and you have to make sure you land on just the right spot where your foot can fit. One misstep means a sandal drenched in sewage.

For some reason, Via dell’Abbondanza isn’t as crowded when you arrive there. For a main street, it’s a little too quiet. You can hear the harmony of sighs coming from the different stalls lined up on either side of the road. Not much good business today, then, you think.

You make a point to jingle your relatively small coin purse as you approach one stall. A flurry of limbs reveals the merchant’s son just standing up, trying his best to look attentive. He’s about your age. You’ve only seen him a few times as a child, and even fewer times as you grew up; when you left the merchant’s side of town to get married, you’d forgotten him, along with every other boy and girl that lived in that area. You’re sure you know his name, but you can’t quite place it; you know his father more, as he’s usually who greets you with fresh produce every week.

You express your mild surprise at seeing him by saying, “You’re father’s not well today?”

“Gout’s acting up again,” he answers. The lives of the somewhat rich weren’t always fabulous, you guessed, but you had never stayed long enough to really find out. “It’s just me today. What can I get you?”

“I’ve got a list.” Your eyes sweep over the goods, spread out before you, and you absently hand it over along with the sack. Tanned hands move swiftly, making sure to fit all the produce your tiny pouch can handle. “Do you have anything sweet?”

“I’ve got some fresh apples,” he offers, hand hovering over a bright red pile of fruit.

“Maybe something a little more special.”

He pauses for a moment before abandoning your sack, only half-filled with produce, to go to the back of the stall. Two minutes of rummaging results in him extracting a tiny bag from a box and spilling its contents onto his palm. Even in the grim light, they shine like gold pieces — small, round things rolling around in his hand. You lean forward to take a closer look.

“What are they?”

“Honey drops. Some men from India came with them last week. They say the Greeks love it.” His fingers curl in a little. “What do you need something special for?”

“It’s for my son. We’re celebrating his birthday today.”

The merchant’s son doesn’t say anything anymore; he turns his palm sideways and lets the honey drops fall into your pack. You stand in silence as he finishes off your list, tying the sack neatly up with the rope again. When you’re digging around for the money, though, he speaks.

“You were very young when you got married.” It’s not what you’d have expected, but you nod in response all the same. “Your father… he was upset. My father said he didn’t see your father for at least a month here. He let your brother manage the goods.”

“He was more upset that he didn’t get the dowry he was expecting out of me,” you say, tone rather clipped.

“So, it’s true, then? You ran away with a farmer. That’s what people say.”

“People still talk about it?” You frown. “It’s been years. I love him. I don’t regret it.”

“I never said — I’m sorry if you felt like I was criticizing. I’m not. I just didn’t—” he sighs. “I just think it must be nice.”

“To be gossiped about?”

“No. To marry for love.”

A dull silence follows, and you’re not sure how to react to his words. Instead, you ask, “How much?”

“Just twenty denarii.”

“And the honey drops?”

“You just take them,” he shakes his head. “For your son. Think of it as a gift for him.”

You offer him a small smile before counting out the silver pieces carefully. He cups his palm under your hand, skin brushing briefly against yours as you tip the money to him. Something like electricity runs up your arm and hits the back of your neck, and you both draw back sharply, looking sheepish.

“Thank you. Give your father my best,” you say, rubbing your neck.

“I will. Have a good day.”

Even though it’s noon when you get back, you can’t find the sun; the wind that blows against the back of your neck is hot and dry, though. Your son’s face is flushed when he runs to the door to meet you, but at least he doesn’t look uncomfortable; his eyes are wide with excitement. At the age of three — well, four today — he’s got too much energy trapped inside his tiny form, and he constantly tries to release it by running the perimeter of your tiny home. As you sit at the table, he resumes his crusade, sometimes standing on his tiptoes by the window and yelling “Domitian is our savior!” You’ve never figured out where he’d learned that, but you know it always tires him out a little faster, so you just let him be.

Around what feels like his hundredth time around the house, he sticks his head out of the window again. Instead of screaming the same praise for the emperor, he ends up saying, “Papa’s home!” Your head snaps up, and, sure enough, there’s a playful little knock on the door not a minute later. Your son almost trips over his chubby legs as he goes to open the door, revealing your husband, sun-kissed skin covered in a sheen of sweat and a wide grin across his face. More noise ensues as your son lets out a happy squeal at being swept up in his father’s arms and carried over to the table, limbs flailing fruitlessly. His arm collides with the side of your face gently when your husband leans down to press his lips to your forehead, and you let out a surprised laugh at the contact.

“I didn’t think they’d really let you come home early,” you say as your husband sets your squirming son down on a stool before taking his own seat. He starts unpacking the rest of the produce you’d left inside the sack.

“I said I couldn’t miss this special occasion,” he chuckles. “Besides, it looked like it was going to rain, anyway. What’s this?”

He rolls a honey drop between his calloused fingers. Your son stops making a fuss on his own and turns his attention to the sweet, eyes widening.

“Gold?” He whispers. Your husband bursts out laughing.

“Son, if we ever had this much gold, I could give your mother the life she truly deserved.”

“Stop it,” you smile, shaking your head. “You two are all I could ever ask for. I’m the luckiest person alive.”

“Frankly, I think that’s me, but let’s agree to disagree.” He flashes you another grin you can’t help but mirror. Your son reaches over and tries to grab the drop when you’re not watching, but your husband is smart enough to hide it in a fist and put it back in the sack where it can’t be reached. “Let’s save that for later. Should we pray first?”

The meal is filled with small talk. You tell your husband about the merchant’s gout. He tells you about one of the men who work with him on the field who had been caught and punished for stealing a bit of barley. You make him promise never to do that, and he pretends to be hurt by your lack of faith in him before making the promise, coupled with a kiss to your palm. Your son finishes his food quickly and goes to the window to yell one more time before asking the both of you if the emperor had greeted him a happy birthday. You assure him of it.

The food and the running around (at least, in your child’s case) quickly makes you sleepy, but your son insists that you both sing him a birthday song before you take him in for a nap. You don’t have that gift, so you let your husband lead, opting to clap along instead. Two minutes later, your son is yawning so widely you can see the back of his throat, and you pick him up to bring him to bed.

“What about the gold drops?” He asks sleepily.

“They’ll still be there when you wake up,” you promise. He concedes and lets you cart him off.

You’d only just seen your son off to sleep when you feel it — the first wave of something. It’s mild at first, but it’s quickly followed by a second, longer one. You stumble out of the room to find that your husband is also standing up, brow furrowed.

“An earthquake?” You ask.

“It could be,” he mutters. “But it—“

The third one is accompanied by a terrifying sound; it’s a deep rumble that passes through the earth under your feet and resonates in your chest. Instinctively, you run forward, and your husband wraps you in his arms. You both look out the window.

No one is on the street now, but you can see a few heads also peeking out of their windows. All their eyes seem to follow the same line, and you quickly direct your own gaze to what they’re so focused on. When you see it, you let out a weak gasp. Your husband’s hold on you grows tighter.

The thick outline of the volcano is different today; more than just its normal conical shape, you see a thick cloud of thick, gray smoke rising up from its tip. The cloud is moving fast — too fast to be something you could shrug off. Your husband seems to think the same thing, because he lets go of you quickly but keeps a hold on your arm, towing you towards the room where your son rested.

He can barely get out the words “we have to leave” before he’s interrupted by the sound of an explosion. You don’t see it, but you feel it instantly; the air grows alarmingly hotter, almost burning your skin. A new smell enters the hot wind; it’s sharp and unpleasant, sticking to the back of your throat.

There’s another tell-tale rumble in the floor, and your son screams in confusion as he sits up in bed. You land by his side, holding him close to you. You say it’s fine, but it’s not.

Another explosion. It’s much louder this time, maybe because people are screaming outside. You’re screaming too, face pressed into your son’s hair. It’s much too hot now. Too hot, like the air is setting you aflame completely.

The last two things you feel are your son’s tears dripping onto your knee and your husband’s form pressed firmly against you. It’s his body that catches most of the impact when the last explosion sounds off and you’re completely engulfed in ash.

When you come back into consciousness, you notice that your shirt is sticking to your back. Despite Heehyeon turning down the temperature, you’d still sweat through the nightmare. She’d been kind enough to leave you a glass of water by your bedside. You throw her a silent thank you as you throw your head back and gulp it down. You drink almost desperately, as if you’re trying to wash the last of the ashes out of your throat.

You ask your boss if you can leave work early when Heehyeon texts you that you have an “urgent package” a few days later. You’re pretty sure it’s for the fansign event. She lets you take the rest of the day off, but she can’t hide her exasperation.

“NCT models for Nature Republic,” she says pointedly. “You get to see them all day.”

“It’s not the same thing as seeing them in person,” you defend yourself.

“You go to a fan sign to see how pretty they are. What’s the difference?”

You feel like telling her that the difference is that in a fan sign, the love of your life is a real, three-dimensional person you can talk to and not a life-sized standee at the front of the shop, but you don’t really want to argue. She had just given you the day off, anyway.

“Just remember you’re working double shifts this Monday.” She says this like it’s a punishment, even though weekdays mean later opening times and less customers. “Sejeong has already covered for you twice this week. It’s a good thing she’s okay that you’re such a big NCT fan.”

There are two big boxes by your door when you get home, your face still flushed from running up the stairs; one has already been ripped open, and a big chunk of what was inside has already been extracted. You can hear the sound of ripping plastic and the regular sigh coming from the kitchen, and you enter it to find your roommate with a cutter in her hand and at least twenty NCT albums spread out across the table. She’s in the process of opening one of them, peeling off the cling wrap and shaking out the papers inside.

“You know you don’t even have to open them, right?” You say slowly. “They don’t stick the ticket inside. They do the draws on the websites, so all you need is the receipt.”

“I know; you told me that,” Heehyeon leans back, tossing the free Genie streaming pass to the side. “I’m looking at the photocards.”

“You don’t sound happy.”

“They’re all the same. You shouldn’t have bought it in bulk.”

“I had to,” you frown. “They say it’s better to get a whole range of entries instead of sparse numbers.”

“Well, you also got a whole range of Kim Doyoung photo cards.” To prove her point, she tosses a photo card in your direction. “Oh, and one Taeil card. So far.”

“No Mark?”

“No; it’s what I’ve been looking for.” You think she’s acting really considerate and touching for you until she says, “They’re the ones that make the most money often. Him and Jaehyun”

“You can’t sell my photocards.”

“Why not? You have at least ten Doyoungs right now. What are you going to do with them; make a Kim Doyoung photocard fort?”

You ignore her, taking an album instead and peeling off the wrapping. You leaf through the first few pages, but it’s the Chinese version, and you can’t read it, so you just skip to where all the extra goods have been stuck. When you turn the photo card over, you sigh. It’s just Jaehyun.

You don’t even get through the entire stack that Heehyeon has laid out on the kitchen table before you give up. Obviously, the photo cards aren’t urgent, so you just let her collect them with the Genie passes and move on to the boxes again. You nearly break a nail trying to rip open the other box, but it’s worth it; you manage to get your hands on the receipt, wedged between two albums, and the list of lottery entries for the fansign has been stapled to it.

Heehyeon has given up too, and she stands by the doorway as you scan the numbers. “So how many entries do you get?”

“Depends on how many albums you buy.”

“Well, how many albums did you buy?”

“A hundred and fifty,” you respond, not batting an eyelash.

“You crazy bitch,” she sighs heavily. “We could be living in a better apartment if you hadn’t thrown all your money at NCT.”

“At Mark,” you correct her. You may be a crazy bitch, but you’re also pretty loyal. “Our apartment is great now, anyway.”

“So if you do get a fan sign pass, what’s the plan?”

It sounds like a test or something, like there’s only one right answer to the question. There really is only one right answer, and you let her hear it. “The plan is not to attack anyone.”

“Good. I approve of this plan. But I’d sleep better knowing that I could actually make sure you stuck to it.” Her expression says what she doesn’t verbalize. Unlike last time.

“I’d be lucky to get one fan sign pass, let alone two.”

“Maybe you should let me take the one fan sign pass instead. I’ll give Mark your love.”

You make a motion to throw an album at her, but she doesn’t budge, knowing fully well that you won’t attack her with anything that expensive. She just sticks out her tongue in reply.

The announcement comes up later than expected; Heehyeon’s laptop is out on the kitchen table again after a quick argument about who should clean up the albums (apparently, since they’re yours, you are also responsible in some way; you’d played rock, paper, scissors with her, and had promptly lost). You put up a SuaSua page that autorefreshes the Synnara website while you eat dinner. Heehyeon tells you about how someone at her office had stuck a ripped bag of popcorn into the pantry’s microwave and had caused the butter to explode and leak out of the appliance, leading to the entire floor smelling like burnt popcorn. You ask her if that “someone” was her, and she starts talking about how the weather today was unusually hot.

Synarra’s website crashes for a good ten minutes, showing only a white page with a proxy error, and you realize they must be adding the announcement already. You grab the laptop and yank it towards you while Heehyeon inhales the rest of her rice quickly before moving her chair closer to yours and sticking her head closer to the monitor. A chipped gray nail drags down the screen, leaving a long fingerprint streak, and she says the numbers out loud as you check the list.

“98?”

“No.”

“121?”

“Nope.”

“How about 145?”

She loses almost all of her saliva trying to carefully read out the numbers, but there’s such a short list drawn from a slew of album sales that you’re slowly losing hope. Only about a hundred people will be able to enter the fan sign. You glance back at the boxes by the door, wondering if they’re enough. You’d thought so at first — 150 albums were a lot — but now you’re unsure. Heehyeon says something you don’t catch.

“What?” You ask dumbly.

“I said, do you have 322?”

“Oh-“ You check the first page of the list. Nothing. You’re holding your breath when you flip the page, your eyes more carefully counting the numbers. 317. 318. 319. God, please don’t let it stop there. 320. 321. “Yes, I—”

The paper is snatched out from your grasp before you can complete your poor word choice. Heehyeon’s jaw falls steadily lower as she counts the same numbers and arrives at the magic one.

“You crazy bitch,” she says for the second time today, but it’s less accusing now; in fact, it’s more of an awed whisper. “It actually worked.”

“You’re sure it says 322?”

You both take turns checking, but there’s no denying it. Your number is there. You’re going to the fan sign.

“This is crazy,” Heehyeon murmurs, and she sounds like she really thinks it’s the single most astonishing thing she’s ever seen in all of her lives. “I’d already written out my comforting in-case-you-didn’t-win speech.”

You don’t say anything in response; your mind is much too far away, focused on a week from now, on a day you would see Mark again. It wouldn’t be like M! Countdown. You’d be calmer. You’d be able to explain yourself. Maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to set things right. It’s a gamble, facing him again, but at this point, you feel like fate is finally starting to take your side, and you’re too high from running with it to think about all the cracks in the road.

Heehyeon takes you to CGV Apgujeong on the Saturday of the fansign a week later. There are a number of fans on the orange subway to Apgujeong station, and you panic momentarily in the fear that some of them might recognize you as That Sasaeng from Hell, but they don’t even pay attention; they’re too busy talking to each other, flipping through their albums and showing each other which gifts they want to give to the members. One of them has a goodie basket, and you tilt your head to read the card attached to it.

Mark oppa, please eat these snacks and gain some strength. Czennies are always with you!

It hits you again that the fan demographic for this group isn’t exactly the work a full time job kind, so they have to call him oppa. When you point this out to Heehyeon, all she does is give you a patronizing look and ask if you’re just jealous that you’re not the only one who can lovingly call him that. You ignore her for the rest of the train ride until she tries to make it up to you by dragging you into a coffee shop and buying you a churro.

Even though there are only 100 winners, the crowd at the building is at least five times larger. It’s M! Countdown all over again with the line, except only a select few can really go inside, and the others are just hanging around with their cameras to see if they’ll be able to get a glimpse of NCT. No one bothers you, and you start to realize that maybe less people had seen you in full during The Incident; maybe at that time, you had just looked like a very aggressive blur of pink. It also helps that Heehyeon is chatting to you loudly while dipping and re-dipping her churro into her chocolate so that you can keep your mind off of your building anxiety.

Of course, that dam breaks the moment security says only people with the winning albums can go through the door. Instinctively, you cling onto Heehyeon, and you realize you actually do want her in there with you. She’s the one that has to extract herself from your hold.

“Go on, _____________.”

“I’m terrified,” you admit, fiddling with the sticker on the album that says 322.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Just remember what we talked about.” She leans in closer to whisper. “Keep your cool. Explain yourself. Say sorry for the other day, and give him the thing.”

You make a face. Right. The thing. While fans had brought their little dolls and gift baskets and toys, you had a letter — a stupid, handwritten letter that you tried to explain yourself with in the vaguest way possible (to avoid looking even more like a lunatic than you probably already do) while also begging for forgiveness for your attitude. You aren’t very good with words, so Heehyeon had stood behind you coaching you through what to say. All in all, the letter’s a mess, but at least you’re not going in empty-handed.

The elevator’s the only way to the theater where the fan sign is going to be held, so they let you in by batches. When it’s your turn, you get stuck between the wall and another fan the wrong way, the handle bar of the elevator digging into your stomach. You spend what feels like ten whole minutes like two uncomfortable inches away from Mark’s huge face on the poster that runs along the three walls of the elevator before you arrive at the fifth floor of the building and everyone trickles out of the cramped space. At this point, you’re absolutely nauseated, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the whole handle-punching-you thing in the elevator, or if it’s because you’re growing more and more nervous at the prospect of seeing Mark again.

The auditorium is full when you’re ushered to your seat, and you get to stay near the back, which is elevated so that you can see everything, albeit from a distance. Three long tables have been stuck together on the little stage they have set up in front of the theater screen curtains, and there are nine chairs set up in a row behind them. The sea of fans in front of you houses a good number of pink dots, and you remember what those Jaehyun fans at the M! Countdown pre-recording had said about how you could pick out a Mark fan by the color of their shirt. You’re not one of them this time, though; Heehyeon had told you not to draw any kind of attention to yourself, and a violently fuschia shirt was the antithesis to that advice. You content yourself with miserably counting how many people are wearing pink.

You’re in the 20 or so range when a loud cheer erupts from the crowd, and you start; you had been so busy counting that you hadn’t noticed that the staff and security had taken their place around the stage, soon followed by the NCT members themselves. They enter in a line, waving at the crowd enthusiastically. Johnny, who is leading the line and takes the farthest seat from the starting point, is throwing out a flurry of finger hearts that the crowd goes wild over. When they’re at their places, they do their greetings before taking their seats, and the fans quiet down to listen to Mark, who is starting off the opening ment and talking about how he’s really happy about this comeback.

You lean forward in your seat, your eyes trained on only him. Mark looks different today from when you last saw (some would say attacked) him. Today, there are no traces of make-up on his face, no hair products in place. His skin looks dewy and bright, and he’s wearing glasses, perched just on the edge of his nose. They move when he scrunches his nose as he laughs, and he has to push them back to keep them from falling when he leans forward to look at the other members down the line. The white shirt he has on is a little too big for him, but it looks comfortable. Seeing him on stage for a performance is different, you realize. He looks so… at home like this. So normal. So happy.

It makes your heart ache even more.

There’s nothing to do but wait for your turn, and it’s a long time until then. The process goes on a per-row basis to avoid a messy and overcrowded stage, and you watch as fans enter the line one after another, stopping to chat with each member. Some of them have obviously done this before — at least, enough times to be comfortably chatting and laughing with members who remember them. Others are a little more starstruck, and they come off the stage crying, their tears spilling over on their albums — more specifically, Johnny’s face, since they usually have the books open to his photo.

The more people that go up, the more unsure you are of this whole scenario. You wish you could be the kind of fan that they would remember fondly, but most of the members hadn’t even seen you properly when you’d run up to Mark. Probably the only person that would remember you apart from him would be Doyoung, and your only interaction with him had been him trying to pry you off his friend. Chances are, you’re going to end up like the other kind of fan that just broke down during the course of the fan sign, but maybe not for the same reasons.

When the row in front of you is led to the stage, you start feeling sick. You think it’s because you’ve been sitting too long, but, deep down, you know it’s you fears eating away at your insides, and this is only confirmed when you’re advised to stand, and you actually raise a hand to your mouth, pressing two fingers against your lips tightly just in case your churro decided to make a reappearance.

The walk to the stage is horrendously long, and even though you know the other fans are too busy leafing through their signed albums, you feel like you’re under scrutiny. The staff make sure you go up one by one to avoid some kind of traffic jam, and when it’s your turn, you feel your knees go weak. You’re not sure what you look like, but you can’t look that great. The staff at the front of the line asks you to hand over your album and follow the other fans, who’ve had to kneel in front of the idols. You’re inwardly thankful, because there’s almost no strength left in your calves.

The first member in line is Taeil, and he greets you quietly and without fuss. The staff member hands him your album, and he asks for your name. You barely manage to choke it out, and it’s embarrassing when he has to ask for it again. It’s worse with Yuta, who’s so intimidatingly attractive that you actually feel the need to scoot backwards onto your knees. He even asks you to spell out your name because your voice has gone too small.

“You seem so nervous,” he laughs. “Is this your first fan sign?”

“Um,” you answer unintelligibly. “Sorry?”

“No, no. I don’t mean it like it’s a bad thing. But don’t be nervous in front of us. We like seeing our fans happy.”

“Yes. I’m… happy.”

He spares you an amused glance as he’s finishing up his signature. You don’t know what’s so funny, unless you look paper-white and that somehow sets his funny bone off. Luckily, Taeyong isn’t the excessively talkative type — at least, not the kind that makes you feel like you’re under a lamplight in an interrogation room — and the only thing Haechan asks you is if he should call you “noona,” to which you also smartly reply with “uh.” You can’t remember when his birthday is; all you can think about is trying to keep consciousness. He just writes “noona” next to your name, anyway.

When you get to Jaehyun, you truly feel like you’re going to throw up. Mark is right beside him, talking to another fan animatedly. You hear him say something about ghost pepper noodles. He can’t take spicy food, you remember. Your head is light, and the room is spinning, and is that a halo around Mark’s head?

“You must like Mark, huh?”

When you look back at Jaehyun, it looks like a bright light is shining behind his head as well. He only spares you a quick glance, his entire body leaned forward to sign your album carefully. You lick your lips, unsurprised to find them bone dry.

“I — sorry,” you say quietly, and he laughs easily, signing across his torso in the picture. You briefly consider that these people have a weird sense of humor.

“No; it’s fine. Mark has so many fans, doesn’t he? It’s because he’s really talented and humble.”

“You’re… talented and humble too,” you mutter carefully. He chuckles again.

“Thank you. What did you say your name was again?”

“______________.”

He scrawls it messily above his signature before tilting his head back to look at the overall effect of his handwriting vandalizing his own photo. The last stroke of your name just touches his forehead in the picture. “_____________, I hope you continue to love and support Mark and NCT, then.”

Jaehyun pushes your album to the side towards Mark, but your hands are already outstretched to receive it. There’s this long, awkward pause where you’re just cupping thin air and he’s just staring at your hands, and you want to apologize again, except you’re not sure what to apologize for. He just bursts out laughing again, and takes your hand in his to shake it so you don’t look foolish. There must be a lot of static in the air, because the moment your palms make contact, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, as if you’ve been weakly electrocuted.

He must feel it too because he draws back quickly, and his eyes, previously crinkled with laughter, are now wide and alert. On you. Your stomach drops as an unmistakable expression of recognition reforms his features. His jaw drops.

“Hold on—“

You’re screwed. He must recognize you from The Incident. You open your mouth, but you don’t even know what to say, and before you even have a chance to form a word, the girl beside you inches closer to kneel in front of Jaehyun; the staff behind him is motioning for you to move faster. All you can do is shoot him one last pleading look before you move in front of Mark, and he’s still staring at you, a little dumbfounded, as you side-crawl further away.

Mark is talking to Doyoung, unaware of the hold-up you’ve caused. They’re sharing a joke, and Mark’s laughter rings in your ears. You actually feel yourself drowning out all the noise around you and focusing on the sound of it. All you can hear is that laugh, coupled by the erratic beat of your heart that feels like it’s about to rip through your chest.

It happens again — that slow-motion, tunnel vision thing you’d felt right before you’d rushed towards him last week. You think it’s nerves at first, but you quickly realize it’s your body warning you of an impending disaster.

He turns to face you, his eyes a little glassy and unfocused from laughing. He doesn’t recognize you for a moment, slim fingers already reaching out for your album and uncapping his pen. It’s only for a split second, really, but you lock eyes in that small span of time. The realization seeps through his gaze as his memory feeds him the information you fear the most.

Mark drops his pen at the same time that he pushes his chair back; the movement is so sharp and violent that the table he’s sharing with Doyoung and Johnny scrapes forward, hitting your chest — not too hard, but enough to knock a little wind out of you. The members look up in alarm at the noise, and it’s only aggravated by Mark’s loud voice hitting all four corners of the auditorium.

“It’s you—!”

Doyoung is the second to recognize you, and he stands up, looking still disoriented but mostly angry, and he jabs his index finger in your direction as if he wants everyone to know you’re the one Mark is referring to.

You don’t know what to do; you put your hands forward, but this just seems to cause an even larger riot. Staff are by your side in a second, and this burly guy grabs you by the elbow and hoists you up. A vague memory of him as the same guy who’d grabbed Mark after the pre-recording pings in the back of your mind, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You go up without resistance, but your gaze is still fixed on Mark, who is now just staring back at you in alarm, half his body hidden behind another security guard who’s shielding him, as if he thinks you’re just going to propel yourself forward and strangle the life out of someone.

Everyone at the table is standing now; even the fans are on their feet, looking livid. Suddenly, everything in your field of vision swims, and you feel the tears spilling over your cheeks, leaving hot, wet streaks of make-up that can’t look attractive.

“Mark,” your voice comes out weakly. “Mark, please. Please — just listen—”

Even if he were to really listen, you don’t have time; you’re already being dragged away by the staff, and they take you through the fire exit to avoid a bigger scene. This entire time, you’re looking back at the table, and you’re trying to call out Mark’s name, but he’s refusing to look your way now, shakily taking his seat as the staff realigns the tables. The only time you stop yelling is when the fire exit’s door slams shut.

It doesn’t take long for you to sober down, and you try telling the staff you weren’t planning on doing anything weird, but they aren’t taking any chances. Two big guys keep your arms practically pinned to your sides as they escort you to the first floor, where building security had called up the police again. You at least feel a little lucky that they don’t parade you out up front where everyone can see you.

You desperately want to call Heehyeon, but they’ve confiscated your phone and your wallet, so you just sit in the back of the police car, trying not to scream. You hadn’t even done anything, but he’d panicked anyway. You’d already spent your time regretting The Incident, but this, by far, was its worse effect. If you ever showed up in front of him again, you’d probably be given a real restraining order.

No one talks to you at the police station; they’re so busy trying to deal with other cases of misdemeanor here and there that they actually just let you sit by the door for twenty minutes. You could leave, but you don’t; you’re not taking any more chances right now. Eventually, you’re led into a temporary holding cell next to a shoplifter, and you’re suddenly glad they’ve confiscated your valuables.

It’s quiet, save for the footsteps of the shoplifter that’s pacing agitatedly. She keeps forgetting she doesn’t have a watch and actually checks her bare wrist every so often, as if she’s waiting for someone. You let out a long sigh and press your back against the wall for a second before you realize you don’t know what’s been near it, and you shoot up straight again, your features morphing to express disgust. Your cellmate snickers.

Heehyeon must know something’s wrong already. By now, everyone’s left the auditorium, and it won’t take a public service announcement for her to catch wind of something bad happening in the fan sign. She’d have to ask security about you, then wait for a cab to get to the police station. If she’s as smart as you think she is, she should be outside trying to bail you out of your overnight stay.

Your spirit lifts for the first time since the fan sign as you see the officer that apprehended you come back into the holding areas. He stops in front of your cell, gesturing for you come forward before getting the keys to unlock the cell.

“You’re letting me go?” You confirm, watching him struggle with the keys.

“Your friend paid your bail,” he drawls out the word friend, like he’s disgusted by the idea that Heehyeon is paying for your release. “He’s signing the papers outside.”

He?

You’re nothing short of confused when you exit the holding area, and your eyes immediately scan the police station for Heehyeon. There’s no sign of her though.

The only person you recognize is NCT’s Jaehyun, standing taller than almost everyone in the room, grinning and gesturing for you to come over.

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maidenson88 · 3 months

Text

MATRIARCHY CRIMINAL LAW — BASIC LAWS — PART II

IN THE NAME OF THE QUEEN, HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, EMPRESS OF THE MATRIARCHY, RULER OF THE MATRIARCHAL WOMEN, PRIME EMPRESS IN HER OWN RIGHT APPOINTED BY HER GYNARCHIC SISTERS — HERE THERE IS THE CRIMINAL LAW OF THE MATRIARCHAL STATE!

Now that we have the basic principles of foundation of Matriarchal State we can advance to the next step, to analyze the Criminal Law of Matriarchal State. Criminal Law in Matriarchy State is the compendium of Matriarchal & Gynarchic Laws that relates to a crime. It prescribes conduct perceived as threatening, harmful, or otherwise endangering to the property, health, safety, and welfare of Lady-Citizens of Matriarchal State. Most Criminal Law is established by statute, which is to say that the Matriarchal Laws are enacted by a Matriarchal legislature. Criminal Law includes the punishment and rehabilitation of male domestics or Lady-Citizens who violate such laws.

Women must have preponderance in the Criminal Law of Matriarchy State over any male creature.

Criminal Law varies according to jurisdiction, and differs from Civil Matriarchal Law, where emphasis is more on dispute resolution between two Lady-Citizens and victim compensation, rather than on punishment or rehabilitation of rebel males.

Criminal procedure on Matriarchy State is a formalized official activity that authenticates the fact of commission of a crime and authorizes punitive or rehabilitative treatment of male offenders.

THESE ARE SOME OF THE CRIMINAL LAWS UNDER "MATRIARCHAL JURISPRUDENCE" AND ITS BEST CRIMINAL LAWS PROPOSED BY THE LEADING GYNARCHIC LADIES WHO HAVE EXCELLED IN GYNARCHIC LAWS IN THE MATRIARCHY STATE OVER THE YEARS...

CRIMINAL LAW ON MATRIARCHY STATE

1.-) GENERAL PROVISIONS

a.-) Purpose of Criminal Law is to protect the interests of Matriarchy State (MAST) and the rights of all Lady-Citizens and male domestic slaves of state or private.

b.-) Means to achieve the purpose of the Criminal Law are threats of punishment, sentencing and executions of punishments and other precautions.

c.-) Criminal Law applies to all persons with Matriarchal citizenship no matter where they commit the crime.

d.-) Criminal Law applies to all persons without Matriarchal citizenship if they commit the crime in the territory which is under MAST administration.

2.-) FUNCTIONS IN THE JUSTICE SYSTEM

a.-) Person in charge of MAST Judicial System can only be a Woman with the status of Lady-Citizen of MAST.

b.-) Functions in MAST Justice System are:

i.-) Imperial Judge – appointed and dismissed by the Empress.

ii.-) Authorized Court Lady-Officer – appointed and dismissed by the Empress.

iii.-) Imperial Prosecutrix – appointed and dismissed by the Empress.

iv.-) Head Court Executrix – appointed and dismissed by the Empress.

v.-) Regional Court Executrix – appointed by the Empress after prior approval from the Head Court Executrix, dismissed by the Empress.

vi.-) Prison Wardress – appointed by the Empress after prior approval from the Head Court Executrix, dismissed by the Empress.

3.-) A CRIME

a.-) A criminal act is a dangerous act for Matriarchy State (hereinafter MAST) or for an individual, which damages or harms Her/his rights or legitimate interests.

b.-) Crime committed by Woman must be intentional to be criminal; For men it is enough to be negligent to commit a crime.

c.-) Degree of danger of committed crime is determined mainly by the significance of the protected rights or interests affected by this crime, the manner the crime was committed and its consequences and the motive of the culprit.

d.-) The Decision, whether the committed offense was a criminal act, its name and definition, its qualification and the subsequent sentence of punishment is the responsibility of the independent Imperial Lady-Judge or the Authorized Court Lady Officer, who judges the case.

4.-) DEFINITIONS AND TYPES OF CRIMES

a.-) Crimes are divided according to their severity, the amount of caused damage and danger for society:

i.-) Offense.

ii.-) Crime.

iii.-) Extremely serious crime.

b.-) Extremely serious crime is considered especially:

i.-) Insult to Her Majesty the Empress of Matriarchy State.

ii.-) Disgrace and defamation of Imperial Symbols of Matriarchy State.

iii.-) Subversive activities against Matriarchy State.

iv.-) Avoiding Tax obligations against Matriarchy State.

v.-) Repeated violations or defamation of any of the "Basic Principles" listed in Matriarchy State Deed of Foundation.

5.-) AGGRAVATING CIRCUMSTANCES

The aggravating circumstance that allow the use of a higher penalty rate is considered:

a.-) If there is very serious consequence caused by the crime.

b.-) If the offender committed the crime repeatedly.

c.-) If the crime was committed against a MAST Lady-Citizen who performs a state function, Noble-Woman of MAST or against the Empress.

d.-) If the offender had not confessed before the end of the trial.

e.-) If the offender is a State or Private Slave registered in the Imperial Registry of Slaves.

6.-) EXTENUATING CIRCUMSTANCES

An extenuating circumstance, that allows to lower the penalty rate, will be taken into account as follows:

a.-) If the offender is a Woman.

b.-) If the offender confess before the end of the trial, expresses regret in a form of financial compensation to the damaged party.

c.-) If the only motive of committing the crime was to protect interests of Matriarchy State or the Empress or his Lady-Owner or Female-Guardian.

d.-) If the crime was committed by a free male based on a wish or an order from a Lady-Citizen.

e.-) Ignorance and lack of knowledge of Legal Norms is not an excuse and is not an extenuating circumstance.

7.-) DOUBTS

a.-) In case of doubt or lack of evidence, the Court always decides in favor of the defendant if it is a Woman.

b.-) In case of doubt or lack of evidence, the Court always decides in disfavor of the defendant if it is a male.

8.-) CRIMINALITY OF THE OFFENSE

a.-) Acts committed by the Empress are not considered as criminal.

b.-) Noble-Women of MAST with higher nobility rank are judged for their crimes by the Empress only.

c.-) Act committed by Woman is a criminal crime only if the crime has been accomplished.

d.-) Acts committed by males are criminal already at the stage of preparation or attempt to commit a crime.

e.-) Criminality of the offense shall be judged according to Matriarchal Law, which was valid at the time that the offense was committed.

f.-) Judgment of foreign state cannot be executed in the territory under Matriarchy State administration nor can have any other effects there.

9.-) NECESSARY DEFENSE

a.-) Act, which would normally be considered as a crime, but used to eliminate threatening or persistent assault on Law protected interests, is not a criminal offense.

b.-) Necessary defense is not considered in a case, when the defense is clearly inappropriate to the attack.

10.-) LIMITATION

a.-) Criminal prosecution in the form of an indictment can not be commenced for an offense committed by a Woman if at least one calendar year has elapsed since the commitment.

b.-) For offenses committed by males, the limitation period is set to 20 years no matter the type of offense.

11.-) PURPOSE OF THE PUNISHMENT

a.-) Purpose of the punishment is to protect Matriarchy State and individuals against offenders, to prevent the convict from committing further crimes and lead him by the punishment to a proper life in the future.

b.-) The purpose of publishing all sentences and public execution of corporal punishments is, moreover, preventive educational influence on potential future offenders.

12.-) TYPES OF PUNISHMENTS

a.-) For the committed offenses, a MAST Court may impose the following penalties:

i.-) Forced labor (for male slaves only of state or private.)

ii.-) Loss of honorary noble titles and awards (for Lady-citizens.)

iii.-) Prohibition of activity (for Lady-citizens/male slaves.)

iv.-) Financial penalty (for Lady-citizens/male slaves.)

v.-) Confiscation (for Lady-citizens/male slaves.)

vi.-) Corporal punishment (for male slaves only of state or private.)

vii.-) Punishment of public humiliation (for male slaves only of state or private.)

viii.-) Imprisonment (for male slaves only of state or private.)

ix.-) Prohibition of residence (for Lady-citizens/male slaves.)

x.-) Loss of Matriarchal citizenship (for Lady-citizens/male slaves.)

b.-) The Court may order a combination of different types of punishment in one sentence to the offender.

c.-) Punishments described in §12, letter a), roman numbers i, vi, vii, viii may be imposed by the Court to male offenders only.

13.-) PUNISHMENT ASSESSMENT

a.-) Determination of the punishment type and its assessment for a criminal offense is fully within the jurisdiction of the Court, unless this law specifies otherwise.

b.-) When determining the type and extent of the sentence, the Court will take into account the attenuating and aggravating circumstances and the state of health of the convicted person.

c.-) For each type and extent of punishment, the Court also determines an alternative punishment in the form of a financial penalty, except the punishment under §12, letter a), roman number x.

d.-) When determining the amount of an alternative financial penalty, the Court will take into account the real financial possibilities of the convicted if these are known.

e.-) If the Court sentences the offender who has been previously convicted, but the sentence has been suspended conditionally, the Court adds to the sentence also the original conditionally suspended sentence.

14.-) PUNISHMENT OF MULTIPLE OFFENSES

If the Court sentences the offender for committing more offenses, it will punish him separately for each offense and the total punishment is the sum of all the sentences stated in the judgment trial.

15.-) CONDITIONAL PUNISHMENT

a.-) A Court may postpone the punishment execution under condition that the convict will not commit any other offense in the future against Women, MAST or a third party.

b.-) Conditional punishment execution may only be imposed to persons that have not committed a crime in the past against Women, MAST or a third party.

c.-) If a person in conditional sentence commits another crime in the future, it is not possible to punish such person conditionally again.

d.-) Conditional punishment can not be sentenced for committing a extremely serious crime against Women, MAST or a third party.

16.-) ACCUSATION ACQUITTAL

a.-) If innocence of the defendant is proved during the trial, She/he is acquitted by a liberating verdict of the Court.

b.-) Court case records where the accused has been acquitted are removed from the publicly accessible sections of the Register of Criminal Records of Matriarchy State.

c.-) All costs are paid in this case by the complainant.

d.-) Acquittal is not possible in self-indictment.

17.-) PUNISHMENT EXECUTION

a.-) If the Court impose an unconditional punishment, it will be executed without any delay and with maximum strictness.

b.-) The Court precisely defines the type and extent of the punishment in the judgment.

c.-) Imposed punishment of forced labor according to §12, letter a), roman number i, must be executed only in favor of MAST or MAST Lady-Citizens.

d.-) Imposed corporal punishment according to §12, letter a), roman number vi,:

i.-) Must be executed by the Court Executrix of Matriarchy State unless it is stated otherwise in the judgment.

ii.-) The execution must be documented for the Court's purposes and its subsequent publication in the Register of Criminal Records of Matriarchy State.

iii.-) The execution must be public and with announced date, time and place, if it is executed in the territory under Matriarchy State administration.

iv.-) The corporal punishment may be repeated if the Lady-Judge decides that the punishment has not been executed with sufficient severity by the Court Executrix of that punishment.

v.-) It shall be executed by using a single tail leather whip with length of at least 130 cm (51 3/16 in) unless stated otherwise in the judgment.

vi.-) It may be interrupted as a result of the sentenced person's health problems and it will be completed as soon as the conditions of the convicted person permit.

vii.-) The convict has a right to choose which Court Executrix will perform his punishment, if it is not directly stated in the judgment.

e.-) Punishment of public humiliation according to §12, letter a), roman number vii, may only be executed in the territory under MAST administration, with announced date in advance, time and place.

f.-) Punishment of imprisonment according to §12, letter a), roman number viii, can only be executed on place and in a facility certified by Matriarchal State's Court Executrix Office.

g.-) The convict is obliged to pay all costs associated with the execution of his sentence imposed on him.

18.-) CRIME NOTIFICATION

a.-) Any person who learns in any way of committing an offense which has a sign of a criminal offense is obliged to inform immediately to Empress' Office or to any Lady-Citizen who is an Imperial Lady-Judge, Authorized Court Officer, Imperial Prosecutrix or Court Executrix.

b.-) Failure to notify a criminal offense may be considered by Court as a criminal offense.

c.-) A notification that is knowingly not based on the truth will be considered as a criminal offense on false accusation.

19.-) CRIME INVESTIGATION

a.-) Any investigation, taking and verification of evidence, as well as the possible hearing of suspects and witnesses, shall be carried out by the Lady-Imperial Judge or the designated Authorized Court Lady-Officer.

b.-) Every Matriarchal citizen is obliged to provide maximum cooperation to all authorities involved in the investigation.

c.-) Imperial Lady-Judge is authorized to use painful interrogation methods on male slaves private or public in the presence of his Lady-Owner if applies, and/or if She has asked for it.

d.-) To perform a painful interrogation, the Lady-Judge may appoint any Woman providing any function in Matriarchy State Justice System.

e.-) Painful interrogation must not leave a permanent consequences on the interrogated male slave of state or private.

f.-) Information obtained in painful interrogation has the same probative value as the information confessed to the Court voluntarily.

20.-) TESTIMONY

a.-) Every Matriarchal citizen is obliged to testify in front of a Court if called upon to do so by Court.

b.-) The witness is always obliged to tell the truth to the Court, and give true information during Her/his testimony.

c.-) In case of doubt, the testimony of Woman has more probative value than the testimony of a male.

d.-) If the Court insists on testifying in person at the place where the Court takes place, all costs are to be paid to the witness after the trial has ended by the convicted person or by the complainant if the convict was acquitted.

21.-) SELF-INDICTMENT

a.-) Any Matriarchal citizen who has committed a criminal offense, or an act that may be considered a criminal offense by a Court, is obliged to notify the Court of this fact by submitting a self-indictment.

b.-) All male slaves of Matriarchy State are obliged to submit a self-indictment for crimes they have committed before gaining an open case for criminal status by an Imperial Prosecutrix.

c.-) For crimes reported on the basis of self-indictment, the Court will impose a moderate punishment, since the self-indictment is considered as a attenuating circumstance.

d.-) Authorized Court Lady-Officer may also decide on guilt and punishment in the case of self-indictment, without the need of proper judicial proceedings led by a Lady-Judge.

e.-) Submitting a self-indictment is charged according to Official Matriarchy State Price Lists and the fee is paid by the complainant.

22.-) ACCUSATION OF ANOTHER PERSON

a.-) If there is a reasonable suspicion that a person to whom this Law applies, has committed a criminal offense, then Matriarchy State will accuse such person through the Imperial Prosecutrix.

b.-) Any Citizen of Matriarchy State can submit an accusation in order to be investigated by Imperial Prosecutrix's Office.

c.-) Accusations of other persons is always decided by the Imperial Lady-Judge in a separate Court case.

d.-) The Court is entitled to reject any meaningless accusations or by lack of evidence without discussion.

e.-) Accusation of another person based on false information is a criminal offense on false accusation.

f.-) Submitting an accusation on another person by a Matriarchal Citizen is charged according to the Official Matriarchy State Price Lists.

23.-) PARTICIPATION

a.-) Person who was involved in a crime even partially conscientious will be punished just like the principal offender.

b.-) Person who knew about a crime set up and did not report the preparation to a person in a Judicial Matriarchal System or the Empress' Office will be punished for assisting a criminal offense.

24.-) CRIMES COMMITTED BY MALE SLAVES

a.-) For the purposes of this law, a male domestic slave is meant a State or Private slave registered in the Imperial Registry of Slaves of Matriarchy State.

b.-) A male slave is criminally responsible, just like any other person or subject under this law.

c.-) A male slave is also criminally responsible for acts committed upon order from his Lady-Owner or Female-Guardian.

d.-) A Lady-Owner of a male domestic slave is not criminally responsible for the acts committed by Her slave without Her knowledge.

e.-) If a male slave has committed a criminal offense based on order from his Lady-Owner, then the Lady-Owner is fully criminal responsible for this act against the Legal norm.

f.-) A Lady-Owner of a slave bears financial responsibility for the material damage caused by the crime committed by Her slave who was in Her ownership and watch.

25.-) VIOLENT OFFENSES COMMITTED ON MALE SLAVES

a.-) If a male domestic slave is damaged by his Lady-Owner, such conduct is not qualified as a criminal offense and cannot be persecuted by Matriarchal Justice System.

b.-) Unauthorized use or damage of a strange male domestic slave by Woman is qualified as a misdemeanor and can only be subject to a financial penalty with obligation to compensate any material damage to his Lady-Owner or Female Guardian.

26.-) JUDGMENT

a.-) The judgment at the end of each Court case is made by an Imperial Lady-Judge or by an Authorized Court Lady-Officer, who has judged the case.

b.-) The judgment is made in written form and delivered to the defendant, to the complainant and to the Register of Criminal Records of Matriarchy State.

c.-) If there is a conviction, the judgment is placed on the publicly accessible Matriarchal State website and other sites of information from the Register of Criminal Records Section.

d.-) The judgment becomes effective:

i.-) Immediately, if the convicted gives up the right to ask for mercy.

ii.-) After 7 days if the convict has not sent a request for mercy to the Empress' Office.

27.-) APPEAL AGAINST THE JUDGMENT

a.-) Only Woman has the right to appeal a formal sentence of a Lady-Judge in Matriarchy State, this could be submitted to the Wise Women's Council Office or to the Empress' Office directly.

b.-) No appeal is permitted against the judgment of the Imperial Lady-Judge or the Authorized Court Lady-Officer by any male domestic, from state or private ownership.

c.-) An Imperial Prosecutrix can appeal a judgment against the acquittal of any male slave, if She deems necessary, or if She thinks Lady-Judge did not judge the male slave with the severity expected, or if She thinks there were flaws in the trial or if new evidence that was not taken into consideration during the trial appears later on time.

d.-) A Lady-Prosecutrix can appeal a judgement for serious crime cases committed against Woman or Matriarchy State, i.e., She can appeal an acquittal on:

i.-) Male castration (In case of repeated rape or repeated physical violence against Woman.)

ii.-) Male euthanasia (In case of murder against Woman or in case of a deceased Lady-Owner with no transfer of rights to another Lady-Owner, a Daughter, or Matriarchal State and who clearly states in favor of male euthanasia in Her will.)

iii.-) Capital punishment by hanging (In case of acts of rebellion against the Matriarchal State rightful order of Women over men on its "Gynarchic Principles" or against the Empress Herself.)

28.-) EMPRESS' MERCY

a.-) Every convicted person has the right to appeal for mercy from the Empress of Matriarchy State within 7 days period from the judgment through the Empress' Office.

b.-) Submitting an appeal for mercy is conditioned by payment of a non-refundable fee according to Official Matriarchal State Price Lists.

c.-) Until the decision on mercy is made by the Empress, the sentence is suspended.

d.-) The Empress is not bound by any time limit for Her decision of mercy.

e.-) The Empress in appeal for mercy may decide:

i.-) Comply in full extent.

ii.-) Comply partially.

iii.-) Reject the appeal.

f.-) The Empress's decision of the mercy is delivered to the sentenced person and published in the Register of Criminal Records of Matriarchy State.

g.-) If the appeal for mercy is fully or partially rejected, the judgment becomes effective immediately.

29.-) REGISTER OF CRIMINAL RECORDS

a.-) Register of Criminal Records (hereinafter RCR) is administered by the Empress' Office.

b.-) Purpose of the RCR is to register and publish accusations, self-indictments, and judgments on publicly accessible websites of Matriarchy State, publishing evidence of punisment, executions of convicts, disclosing and publishing further Court cases within Matriarchy State.

c.-) Record in the RCR is decisive in any dispute over the criminal history of each Matriarchal citizen.

d.-) Each Matriarchal citizen has right to request the RCR to delete the record of his case, sentence and/or punishment, but not earlier than six months after the date of publication of the relevant material.

e.-) This request is charged with a non-refundable fee according to Official Matriarchy State Price Lists.

f.-) Deleted record is no longer accessible to the public but is archived without time limitation for the needs of the Court or for another Matriarchy State Authorities.

g.-) All other features concerning the Register of Criminal Records are described in its internal regulations according to Matriarchy State regulations.

30.-) FINAL PROVISIONS

a.-) This law becomes valid on the date of signature by the Empress of Matriarchy State.

b.-) This law becomes effective on the day of publication on the official websites and newspaper of Matriarchy State.

This Compendium Of Criminal Laws Has Been Approved By The Empress Of Matriarchy State.

SUMMARY

Firstly, as we have learnt in this second part regarding Criminal Law of Matriarchy State, Women must have preponderance in any criminal law legislature in a Matriarchal State over any male creature. Is important for Gynarchic Women to exercise with severity their own compendium of Matriarchal criminal laws, in order to set an example and to prevent future infractions by male domestic slaves, owned by the state or private, i.e., imagine the case of a serial male rapist who sexually abuse a Lady-citizen and is sentenced to male castration, it could be that he gets an Empress' mercy decree the first time, but the second time that he commits another sexual abuse against another Lady-citizen then is here when the Gynarchal Women must set an example and certainly castrate this male rapist to prevent more similar crimes to this one against other Lady-citizens, Criminal Law it is also a good thing in order to maintain order in a Matriarchal State and certainly male castration must be regulated on this Compendium of Gynarchal Laws.

Secondly, I consider most relevant is the one related to "doubts," as the Gynarchic Women clearly state in case of doubt or lack of evidence a Gynarcha Court must always decide in favor of Women; While in case of doubt or lack of evidence a Gynarchal Court must always decide in disfavor of male domestics slaves. This point is very important because in this way Women take again preponderance, the same that I stated above, the preponderance of Women in Gynarchy is Paramount, it really does not matter what a male said, what really matters is what Women said in a Gynarchal Court of Justice, that is the reason why Women in Gynarchy must have high standards and convictions towards Female Supremacy. And it may be that sometimes the system can play agaisnt males, but is not that the point? The Gynarchal systema was not designed to favor males but instead it was designed to favor Women. That's why teenage Women must learn since an early age to never feel "sorry" or "pity" for a male domestic when he has been affected by an unfair or mistaken judgment by a Dominant Woman, on the contrary Gynarchy Women must feel empowered when something like that happens and the enjoy the unfair fate of that male, as She must be fully Gynarchic all the time no matter what.

Thirdly, I consider relevant the "limitation" point because again it gives Women of the Gynarchy preponderance just by the fact of being Woman, just as it should be, as it clearly states that in order to prosecute a Woman it has one calendar year before the offense expires; While for offenses committed by males the limitation period is set to 20 years and no matter the type of offense. This is one of the most beautiful paragraphs of criminal law in Matriarchy State because it gives Women Freedom while in the case of male domestics it bounds them to a pepetual good behavior in obedience to the Gynarchic Deeds of Foundation for life. Is important in any Gynarchic Criminal Law that crimes committed by male domestics do not expires so quickly, and the Gynarchic Women have considered 20 years to be ideal for this regard, i.e., imagine the case of a male domestic who has committed sexual harassment against a teenage Woman, when that Woman becomes more Dominant by Gynarchic nature, She will have up to 20 years upon this offense to accuse that male domestic to the Prosecutrix Office and take that male to trial, blessed be the Gynarchic Justice System, and any male accused of sexual harassment must pay his wrongdoing against any Woman of the Gynarchy.

Fourthly, regarding the types of punishment for male slaves, owned by state or private, I think is marvelous and it should be taken as the perfect model by Women everywhere, let's start analyzing the first one: "forced labor." Of course forced labor can only apply to male slaves and is the first point because the Gynarchic Women through forced labor redirects the negative energy from male slaves offenders into something good for the Matriarchal State. It is very important that Women everywhere see "forced labor" of male slaves as something normal and use it wisely for the advancement of Matriarchal State and Women in general. "Corporal punishment" also plays a very important role here, and as the Gynarchic Women say, Lady-Judges must always search severity on the punishment by the Imperial Executrixes, and if they are not satisfied, they should ask for the repetition of the punishment with more severity and these corporal punishments must be always carried on with a single tail leather whip of 130 centimeters this is very important so that the male domestic offender can feel the pain in his flesh and prevent him to commit another offense in the future. I consider Paramount as well male "imprisonment," as this in imprisonment in a facility certified by Matriarchal State's Court Executrix Office must bring the male domestic offender to Gynarchic order. Here is important that Court Executrixes exercises a stern correcting behavior so that this male offenders totally surrender to the Matriarchal State standards, i.e., Court Executrixes must feed all males in imprisonment in dog bowls from the male slop with the leftovers of the Lady-Citizens always and without any excemption.

Fifthly, when regarding to "Testimony," in a Gynarchic Court is important that in case of doubt, the testimony of Women must have more probative value than the testimony of any male domestic. This is important because again it gives Women preponderance in the Gynarchy, just as it should be, according to the Gynarchic Women it only takes the testimony of two Women against a male domestic for him to be condemned, which is something wonderful and an admirable thing, that Women everywhere should embrace it and fully accept it. It is important that the Woman always has a position of Lordship over all males, no matter Her age, so that this point can be fully exercised. Women must be feared and respected by the male domestic slaves, period!

Sixthly, I consider of vital importance to Matriarchy State the "Appeal Process." According to this point only Woman has the right to appeal a formal sentence of a Lady-Judge; And no appeal is permitted against the judgment of a Lady-Judge by any male domestic, from state or private. Again Women take preponderance in Gynarchy, just as it should be, and there is nothing wrong even if the defendant is innocent and is declared guilty, because males must have limited rights or no rights at all in a Gynarchal System, so it must be the responsibility a male drone to prove his innocence to a Lady-Judge, this is the foundation of Gynarchy and for what we all who believe in Gynarchy & Matriarchy must pray on to the Gynarchic Goddess to become in reality, once you reach this point there is no turning back, as the Gynarchic Women will exercise the Gynarchy with severity, just as it was supposed to be with Dominant and Demanding Ladies everywhere. blessed be the Gynarchic Goddess! It's important that State Prosecutrixes appeal when a male domestic is acquitted, there have been cases in Matriarchy State where, for example, a Gynarchy Court has ruled against castration of a male domestic, however thanks to the appeal initiated by the Prosecutrix, many of these males if not almost all of them, will end up being castrated even if they are innocent, because this is Gynarchy and this is as it should be, Women need to learn to be bitches, witches or whatever you want to call it because it is only through this way that Gynarchic Goddess can fully bless the Gynarchy! My admiration to those Prosecutrixes that have reverted a male castration acquittal through the appeal process, they are exemplary Women of law in the Gynarchic State, just as it should be. Prosecutrixes must not be limited to revert male castrations through the appeal process but as well as cases of "male euthanasia" and of course in cases of "capital punishment" especially in cases of sedition and male insubordination to Matriarchy State. At the end that's exactly the work of an Imperial Prosecutrix "chase male offenders."

And finally, Seventhly, here I want to give a general summary focused on "the Empress." As you were able to see, the role of the Empress is Paramount in "Gynarchy," She is in fact like a Queen Bee to the honey bees, and it is for that reason that an Empress must be trained for that executive position of the Matriarchy since childhood. Much of the success of the "Gynarchy" depends on the fact that an Empress should not be soft and weak Empress, but on the contrary She must be a stern Empress, a hard and firm Empress, who must set the example to all the Women in the "Gynarchy." Only a harsh and rough Empress can vitalize the Gynarchy, when we see at nature most often the honeycombs that fail are those who have a weak Queen Bee and these honeycombs usually are destined for extinction: While on the contrary the honeycombs that have a strong Queen Bee are destined to success, and that success can be felt in the honey that has produced that honeycomb. That's why if an Empress need to set an example, i.e., with Her own son then She does it without hesitation, in any area that is required, from the castration of Her own son, or to the euthanasia of Her own son, or to even a capital punishment of Her own son then She does it. These three are like the most radical exampes, but we can summarize this point that the Empress must set an example in exercising the full "Gynarchy" with Her own male relatives always and no matter what, with no exceptions allowed even for Her own son or any other male relative. When to exercise the "Mercy" or not is something that the "chosen" Woman to be a future Empress must be taught during Her Gynarchal instruction and education, but we can say that and 80/20 rule is the most optimum, which means She must only have mercy in the 20% of the cases, in other words She must have "mercy" in rarely occasions, even if the male is innocent She must deny "mercy" in the 80% of the cases. A good Empress certainly will allow as many castrations of male drone/domestic offenders as possible, as well She must allow as many male euthanasias as possible and of course She must allow as many capital punishments as possible in order to safeguard the Matriarchy State from sedition, insurrection and male rebellion against the Gynarchic Deeds of Foundation its Principles and the Matriarchal State Itself.

Blessed be the Gynarchic Goddess!

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