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twilighteve-writes · 4 years

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Feather One Divided -- Chapter 10: The Lead

Feather one divided, fate’s ties frayed, Fractured and wedged, scattered and gone.

After sharing an unsettling dream of Felldrake, the Three Caballeros decided to join back together with Xandra to form a stronghold in case the sorcerer returned. But Felldrake’s plans proved to be bigger than they expected, and when he struck so close to home, it was all Donald could do to keep his family – and himself – together.

(Also available in AO3)

(Chapter 1)

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Pieces reach to one another.

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Something snapped and disappeared.

Huey dropped wordlessly to the floor, feeling strangely like a ship unmoored. Next to him, Dewey stumbled and caught himself at the wall, took a few quick, shallow breaths, and let out a sound that might have been a scream if it didn’t end up as a whimpered squeak.

“Louie,” they both spoke at the same time.

“What of him?” Violet asked. Her eyes searched theirs.

“We… can’t feel him anymore,” Huey said. His voice sounded like it had come from some faraway place, and his ears felt stuffed with cotton. “It’s like… like us being able to reach him before was us following a thread, and now the thread is snapped and gone.”

Dewey steadied himself and stood more firmly, but Huey could feel rather than see his knees quiver all the same. “Then we have to be faster. Come on.”

Huey took a deep breath. The cotton stuffing his ears dissipated, and he stood up. He still felt wobbly, but he was standing, and that was something. “What are we taking?”

“I’m… not sure yet,” Dewey admitted. “Something that protects, definitely.”

Webby frowned. “I’m not sure there’s one like that, in here. The Other Bin usually has things that are more… volatile.”

Dewey scowled. “Then something that can wreck Felldrake.”

Webby thought it over. “I don’t know if there’s anything like that, either, but Uncle Scrooge keeps quiet about the things he keeps here. We can maybe look around, but…”

“We might accidentally trigger something,” Lena finished. “And it won’t be pretty.”

“You’re the person who knows all about Scrooge’s adventures,” Violet said, looking at Webby. “Any ideas at all? It doesn’t have to be anything particularly shielding, just anything that could possibly be useful at all.”

Webby mulled it over, but Huey was the one who spoke. “The ring,” he said, voice soft enough that he was surprised the others even heard it at all.

Dewey blinked at him. “The Void Ring?” he asked. Huey nodded in clarification.

“Isn’t it the ring that made Uncle Donald and Aunt Della’s magic all… dirty?” Webby asked.

“Yes.”

“Isn’t it kinda scary to grab?” Dewey asked nervously. For a guy who was all for raiding his uncle’s dangerous treasures he sure looked uncomfortable with the prospect of taking one of the more disturbing things in the bin.

“Good. Maybe it’ll poison Felldrake’s magic,” Huey said with a huff.

Lena let out a low whistle. “Didn’t think you have it in you, Red.”

“We might need something to heal with but Uncle Scrooge always has the Orb of Remedies with him,” Dewey mused. “We’ll probably be okay. We’re pretty quick.”

“And if we keep our distance we can avoid getting hurt,” Huey reminded pointedly.

“Sure, sure.” Dewey walked off, leading them deeper into the bin, and Huey sighed.

They eventually found the ring, and Violet took and put it into a leather pouch Webby had prepared to make sure it wouldn’t harm anyone in its vicinity. Lena looked relieved that the trip was pretty much uneventful for once and admitted she and Webby had, once, sneaked into the bin before.

“I’ve seen some stuff,” Lena said with a shrug.

“Like what?” Dewey asked in curiosity.

“Like a vision of Webby being turned into a doll which then got shredded,” Lena answered, completely deadpan. She shrugged again. “It’s okay, that’s not real. It’s from a dreamcatcher that apparently shows you your worst nightmare.”

“I can’t decide if the fact that your worst nightmare if Webby being horrifically maimed is heartwarming or horrifying,” Violet said with a frown, obviously disturbed.

“Let’s go with heartwarming, because I don’t want to think of the implication that me being maimed is even an option to be someone’s worst nightmare at all,” Webby blurted. “We’ve got the ring, let’s get out now.”

“Wait,” Dewey said. He headed off another way. “We got that around the same time as the pin. Maybe…”

Huey blinked. “Dewey… you’re taking the Three Feathers Pin? But it made our magic go wild,” he protested.

“I mean, if the worst thing happens and we have to do something, making our magic go wild and hope Felldrake gets hit by it seems like a good enough plan,” Dewey said.

“It’s really not.”

“What other choice do we have? We’re not strong enough to go against Felldrake.”

Huey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. At length, he finally relented, “…okay. Okay.” He opened his eyes and looked at Dewey. “But we’re still not engaging.”

Dewey balled his fists in apparent anger. “But if – “

“I know you meant that as, like, a last resort sort of stuff, but we’re not engaging, okay? Not if we can help it,” Huey hissed. “I know Mom and Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge are getting Louie back, but if – if – “ his words hitched in his throat and he swallowed. “I don’t want to take any risk, okay? I don’t want to lose you. Any of you,” he added, throwing a glance at the girls.

Silence hung, thick like honey, and Huey felt warmth beneath his feathers at the words he had let slip. He didn’t regret speaking them, however. Every word was sincere and true, and they all deserved to know how he felt.

It was broken by Lena, who was arguably the one most unused to open expressions of care and love. Her voice was layered with a wavering front of sarcasm that was as transparent as the wet sheen in her eyes. “Aw, aren’t’cha sweet, Huey? I would sell you for a corn chip, though.”

Huey snorted. “You’re as bad as Louie.”

“Did we figure you the person-to-corn chip conversion? I don’t think you’re worth just one corn chip. You’re worth three just for that confession alone,” Dewey pointed out.

Violet took out a calculator, seemingly out of nowhere. “Well, we can probably figure it out by weight. A corn chip is light, so let’s say it’s about two grams per chip. How much does the average adult weight?”

“Okay, stop, we’re not here to figure out person-to-corn chip conversion! And you’re worth a million corn chips for that confession, okay?” Webby broke in.

“Hey, we don’t know if that’s the correct weight.”

“No offense, Vi, but I don’t really care because it’s not body weight that matters but how precious you are, and you’re all precious to me. Come on, we gotta move.”

“What is this, National Heartfelt Confession Day?” Lena muttered under her breath. The group complied with Webby’s request all the same. They grabbed the pin on their way, having Violet handle it too, and Dewey insisted on making another round to see if there was anything else they could grab. In the end, though, they came out not taking anything else. What they suggested to each other ended up being vetoed on ground of the artefact being too dangerous with a side of downright useless against Felldrake.

When they emerged from the bin, there was a beat when they simply stood silently. “Now what?” Lena voiced their shared thoughts.

Huey turned to Dewey. “Yeah. Now what? It’s your idea; you should know what we’re gonna do next. Right?” He squinted at Dewey.

Dewey put his fingertips at his temples. “Okay, gimme a sec, I’m thinking.”

Huey sighed in exasperation. “Dewey.”

“Give me a break! I didn’t think I’d get this far!” Dewey flailed his arms, settled, and took a deep breath. “Okay! Okay. We can’t try to track the well on our own, none of us have the correct magic. So… so what about we tail Uncle Donald instead?”

Violet tilted her head. “And how do we do that?”

Dewey fell silent, but then there was a gleam in his eyes that Huey didn’t entirely like. He rubbed his hands. “We can do that,” he said, “by blackmailing Launchpad.”

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When they crashed into Launchpad’s garage, he had Fenton over, along with another duck Huey didn’t recognize. Dewey did, however, and he pointed at the man.

“Hey, aren’t you Drake Mallard? The dude who was to be the actor for the cancelled Darkwing Duck movie?” Dewey asked, still pointing. Huey slapped his hand down because really? Dewey should know by now that pointing was rude.

“Um, yes. That’s me.” The man blinked at them, then he turned to Launchpad. “LP, I know you said you were told to babysit some children and we might end up having to help, but I didn’t know you meant five of them.”

“Uh, normally there would be six of them actually – “

“Six?! LP how are you still alive?!”

Fenton broke through the chatter with a quick look at their group and straightening up when he saw Lena and Violet. “Oh, hello! We met before, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but we didn’t introduce ourselves because you were busy with the magic-proof tech,” Violet said. She stepped forward and offered a hand. “My name is Violet. This is Lena.”

“Hi,” Lena said, waving.

“Hi Violet, hi Lena!” Fenton said cheerily, shaking Violet’s hand. “What brings you guys here today? Do you normally just barge into LP’s garage unannounced like this?”

“Um, no,” Huey said, feeling offended at the conclusion Fenton drew.

“Launchpad we need you to help us tail Mom and Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge,” Dewey demanded without preamble.

Launchpad, who was drinking, spat out his drink back into the red plastic cup he was holding. “Sorry, what?”

“We want to tail Aunt Della, Uncle Donald, and Uncle Scrooge,” Webby elaborated. “We want to make sure they’re fine, and get Louie, and in case things get bad we can be prepared.”

Launchpad, for all he acted like a birdbrain at times, looked positively horrified at the prospect. “Kids,” he began slowly, “they’ll kill me.”

“It’s okay, we’ll make sure we stay out of sight,” Violet assured.

“It’s not only them, Mrs. B will kill me too and she’s so much better at spotting things when things get weird,” Launchpad said. “I can’t help you with this. They meant it when they said it’s too dangerous.”

“Well, Darkwing Duck always says to get dangerous!” Dewey protested.

“That’s not – “ Launchpad rubbed his face with both hands. “Oh my god, was I wrong to bring them to marathon Darkwing Duck with me…?”

“Hey now, it’s never wrong to bring kids to watch Darkwing Duck. It’s the best show in the world,” Drake protested.

“Okay, let’s not get hasty here,” Fenton, ever the peacemaker, waved his hands in a placating manner. “Why do you want to tail your – um, the adults to begin with? I’m sure they have their things handled.”

“Because the bad guy they face is bad news and he’s gotten Louie and Uncle Donald has failed in getting Louie back,” Dewey said.

“We don’t blame him,” Huey added. “But it’s clear Felldrake’s stronger, and we don’t know if Uncle Donald and José and Panchito can deal with him on their own. And… Gyro said something to us, before.”

Fenton blinked. “He did?”

Huey nodded. “He said… he said that he thought maybe Mom and the uncles won’t like how he said things either, but if the worst case scenario happens, and they… fail… then Dewey and I, and probably Louie too, we’re the only people with magic we know of who even stand any chance to go against Felldrake.”

Fenton blinked again, then something dawned in his eyes. He closed them with a furrow of his brows and he let out a sigh. “Ugh, Gyro… if he’s not my boss I definitely would have whacked him…” he whispered, almost too soft for Huey to hear.

“Don’t blame him. He’s not wrong,” Dewey said glumly. “We don’t know who else have magic, after all.”

Drake tilted his head. “Magic isn’t real,” he said carefully, sounding more like he was asking than stating. In response, Dewey glowed blue-white and let a crackle of electricity dance on his feathers, while Huey lit himself aflame. Drake jolted in surprise in response, and Huey hid his smile by biting the inside of his cheek to keep it from getting wider. Dewey didn’t bother, openly smirking at the reaction.

Drake turned back to Launchpad. “LP, how are you still alive?” he asked again, with more feeling this time.

“Luck,” Launchpad answered glumly. “Kids, I really don’t think it’s my place to do this. It’s really not safe for you.”

“Launchpad, you really should at least consider helping us,” Lena said. “Look at them. Do you think they’ll stop pestering you?”

“I know they won’t, but I can’t just go ahead and help you guys tail your mom and uncles. And Mr. McD is my boss! I can’t just tail him! And they want you to not go with them for a reason!”

Dewey shook his head. “Launchpad, for real. We’re asking you so it’s just a little bit safer. And this way, you can still keep an eye on us.” He glanced at Huey, and Huey understood what he meant instantly.

He sighed and played along. “You can’t stop us. We’re only asking you out of courtesy.”

Fenton let out an uncertain uhhh while Drake stared at them skeptically. Launchpad, who was the only one even remotely familiar of the shenanigans they’d gotten into, immediately stared at them with trepidation. “What do you mean, courtesy?” he asked.

“Well, if you know and you go with us you can still make sure we’ll be okay, right? There’s no one to do that if we go on our own,” Huey said. “I mean, we could have just run off on our own but we didn’t.”

“Whuh – Mr. McD is, like, out of country right now,” Launchpad said. “There’s no way you can tail him on your own.”

“We jumpstarted Uncle Donald’s boat once. We can do it again if it comes down to it,” Dewey said with a shrug. “I can do it again right now, if I want to. It’s not that hard.”

“You did what to your uncle’s boat?” Drake asked, eyes wide.

Huey shrugged at him with more nonchalance than he thought was possible. “We wanted to go to Cape Suzette.”

“You never told me about this,” Lena said. She looked giddy with the prospect of her friends having done something like jumpstarting a boat. “Red, I thought you’d be the type to stop your brothers!”

“I mean, I tried, but there’s no stopping Dewey and Louie was all for it too,” Huey answered easily. “And when you can’t beat them, join them.”

“And there’s nothing stopping us for doing the same thing now,” Dewey added, pointedly looking at Launchpad, who looked like he wanted to cry. It made Huey feel guilty, and it probably made Dewey feel guilty too, but this was something they both wanted to do. Huey inwardly noted to apologize to Launchpad when this was all over.

“But, wait,” Fenton said, hands flailing. “I know you want to have Launchpad with you, but what will you tail your family with? There’s no plane to go after them. And what’s stopping the tech to short circuit? You all know tech and magic don’t mesh.”

Launchpad brightened and shot Fenton an immensely grateful look. “Yeah! That’s a good point!”

“I mean, if we want to tail them safely then we probably would stay far enough away that we won’t show up in their radar,” Webby pointed out.

“And Fenton’s here,” Violet added. “I’m sure you can build us a better radar to track them with. And what’s stopping you from magic proofing our vehicle?”

Fenton opened and closed his mouth wordlessly for a moment. “Wait – wait a second here, don’t rope me into this.”

“You’re the one who helped Launchpad with telling us the shortcomings of our plan. Are you planning to abandon Launchpad now that you’re in this too?” Lena challenged.

“Um,” Fenton squeaked.

Drake tilted his head. “You kids really won’t back down, huh?”

“No way,” Dewey said forcefully.

Drake stared at him for a moment, then looked away. He rubbed his neck. “You know, I… I know someone. Friend of a friend of a friend, sort of. He… has access to a plane.”

Huey straightened at once. “You can help us?”

“DW!” Launchpad whined.

“I mean, you kids are pretty much set on going,” Drake pointed out. “And I was a stubborn kid, too, so I know you guys are serious about going on your own. Plus I also have experience dealing with… super stubborn kids, and just straight out telling you no isn’t the route I can take if I want you kids to stay put – and you guys don’t want to stay put, so that point is moot anyway. If you really have jumpstarted a ship before, there’s no telling if you won’t do it again, and as impressive as that feat is you’re still all kids. It’s really better if someone goes with you so you won’t get hurt or anything.” He glanced at Launchpad. “And really, I think it’s better to go with them than let them go on their own now. If you go with them, you can at least tell your boss you can’t stop them so you decided to keep an eye on them. If you don’t, there’s no damage control. Best care scenario, you get fired.”

Fenton shuddered. “I don’t know if I want to know what the worst case scenario would be,” he said. “And if Launchpad is involved and I know and don’t help, I’ll face the consequences too.”

“I’m glad I’m not working for Scrooge McDuck,” Drake sighed.

“Oh no, there’s no stopping Uncle Donald and Mom from hunting you,” Huey said as casually as he could.

“See? Now I’m roped in, too.” Drake shook his head. “I’ll… contact the guy. But I don’t know if it can withstand magic, or if the radar is good enough.”

Fenton let out a longsuffering sigh. “I can make some modifications.”

Launchpad looked at his two friends and let his face drop to his hands, groaning loudly. “…I’ll pilot the plane,” he said at last.

Something like hope settled in Huey’s chest. Things were finally starting to look up.

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The flight to take the money seed was a lot longer than any of them was comfortable with, no matter how far Della had stretched her skills both as a pilot and as someone proficient with magic. She was at the ends of her limit by the time they landed.

Donald could tell from the feel of her magic.

He wasn’t the only one who did. Uncle Scrooge noticed, too, and he laid his hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay, lass?”

Della jumped – a clear indicator that she wasn’t, but the smile she threw on was decidedly deceptive. “Yeah, never better! I can do this all day.”

Donald frowned. Uncle Scrooge did the same and gave her a stern look. “Della.”

“What? I mean that, I’m fine!” She stood and wobbled back into the seat instantly. “Okay, not as fine as I’d like. But mostly fine.”

“You kept using magic the whole way,” Uncle Scrooge pointed out. “Rest up when you can. We’ll be back quickly.”

“But – “

Donald scowled at her. “Don’t make me tie you into your chair, Dell.” His magic brushed hers to drive home the seriousness of his threat, and she stilled. The brief jolt of surprise, disbelief, and longing clued Donald in to how much she’d missed him, and he wondered how long it had been since he’d let their magic mix and mingle together.

Far too long, it seemed. But his magic was different, changed when he took on the amulet again. He had noticed how the difference in his magic made Della hesitate when she first realized his magic had changed, and he thought it had been kindness to keep his magic out of her reach.

He shelved that for later. He had other things to worry about, right now.

Panchito groaned. “Donald, you’re using my lines to her!”

Donald rolled his eyes. “Hey, if it fits.”

“That can’t do, Donal’. You have to be creative with your threats,” José said.

Donald threw them a withering look. He opened his mouth to retort, but Magica cut him off with a scoff, “Are we going to dawdle here all day or are we going in to take the seed?”

Goldie let out a noncommittal sound. “I mean, I’m content to sit back and watch the drama unfold.”

“We’re facing a time limit,” Magica reminded.

“Which is why we need to get the seed! Let’s go!” Della stood from her seat, only to fall back into it when Uncle Scrooge pushed her down with his cane.

“After what you did last time with Dewey, I’m not ready to let you near the seed yet,” he said. “And you need rest.” He glanced at Goldie and Magica. “Can I trust you two to babysit her?”

“Babysit?!”

Goldie lifted a brow. “You just don’t trust us to go inside, do you?”

“Well, that, too. But I also need someone to keep an eye on this rascal.” Uncle Scrooge poked Della with his cane, prompting an indignant hey from her.

Goldie smiled. “Fair enough. Shame, I was hoping I could have spent some more time with dear José on the way, but I suppose that can wait until later.” At the curious hum José let out, she shrugged. “Our magic does have some similarities.”

José’s eyes lit up. Panchito and Donald shared a look, decided then and there that Goldie and José teaming up would be a bad thing for absolutely everyone else, with Goldie being able to charm absolutely everyone into trusting her and José being able to coax absolutely everyone into doing what he wanted, and dragged him out of the plane, into the cold. Xandra followed them silently – she had been silent for a while, eyes scanning the horizon with an alertness that Donald hadn’t seen in a while – and nudged them to walk faster.

Uncle Scrooge led them, and in the end the walk to take the money seed was as uneventful as uneventful could be. They were back to the plane soon, and while Della was all reared up to fly again, Uncle Scrooge managed to coax her into resting some more.

“What now, though? We can’t just sit still and do nothing here,” Della protested.

“We’re not sitting still and doing nothing,” Xandra said, speaking up for the first time. “We’re giving Donald a chance to figure out how to track the well and the logistics of dealing with the magic.”

Donald blinked at her. “Will it be draining?”

“Very,” Xandra said. She bit her lip in thought for a moment. “Try drawing out power from the amulet, and maybe extra energy from José and Panchito.” She glanced at the two inquiringly.

Panchito nodded readily. “Of course! Take as much as you need.”

“Anything to minimize the risk,” José added.

Donald took a deep breath and stared at the three golden seeds in his palm. He didn’t really want to draw power from José and Panchito, didn’t want to treat them as magical batteries, but if it came down to it he’d probably do it unconsciously. The amulets were connected to one another, and it was ridiculously easy to follow that connection to the person wearing them.

“Okay,” he breathed. He looked up at Xandra. “How do I do this?”

Xandra sat cross-legged in front of him and prompted him to do the same. Once seated, she took his hand and pushed his fingers to grip the seeds in his hold. He let her.

“Close your eyes,” she said, “and breathe deeply.”

Donald complied.

“The magic in the seeds is faint, but I know you can sense it,” Xandra guided. “Can you feel it?” At Donald’s nod, she squeezed his hand. “Okay, now dive into it. Let its magic mix with yours. It will be counterintuitive because it’s not water magic, but it’s possible to do.”

Donald took a deep breath. He could feel the seeds’ magic, just as Xandra had pointed out. Something about it reminded him of Louie; of something glimmering and precious, but it was different. Louie’s magic was a quiet thing that breathed, but the seeds’ lay dormant, and Donald wasn’t sure if it could grow stronger if stroked awake. He tried anyway, nudging and poking it with his own magic, and it was like trying to mix water with oil. Until, slowly, the seeds’ magic began responding to his better and agreed to mix and be molded.

Immediately, he could feel himself being drained. He frowned, grunting, almost instinctually reaching deep into himself and grasping at the tethers of José and Panchito’s bonds and drawing from them.

Something shifted and pushed at him, wriggling in his head and making way to put itself in. It slotted into place, something screamed to be found, and Donald opened his eyes with a gasp.

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Della didn’t like how Donald looked right now.

She knew he was trying to get Louie back. Her baby. His, too, probably even more so than hers. But it didn’t change the fact that Donald looked different, felt different, and she didn’t like that.

The moment Donald wore his amulet, his magic had changed. It felt like the sea, but it was also more; it was also rain and rivers and lakes, but it was still also the sea, it was still Donald. The moment he reached into the seeds’ magic, the body of water that was Donald’s magic changed its face yet again and Della couldn’t recognize it.

And the change of magic was accompanied by a physical one, and something in her squirmed until she tasted bile in her throat. His magic, normally enveloping him in wave-like deep sea blue light speckled with white seafoam, had adopted a pale aquamarine with glittery golden sheen that shone through him and spread gold all over the interior of the plane. By him, José and Panchito exuded a similar golden sheen; dimmer but there all the same, most likely a byproduct of the way their magic were intertwined with one another’s through their amulet.

The initial change of his magic and the way he kept his distance after had been alienating enough. The fact that Della was watching it change once again into something she could barely recognize made a part of her want to weep.

Donald gasped and opened his eyes. His dark eyes had changed light, the lightest aquamarine, a glittery gold sheen covering the irises and spreading to the sclera until the white was nearly covered with all-encompassing gold. His magic, now barely even feeling like water anymore, pulsed. “The well,” he breathed softly.

Xandra leaned forward, hands hovering uncertainly around Donald. “Do you know where it is?”

Donald blinked. His gaze was almost blank, and his voice was lilting and untethered. When he spoke, his answer was almost as chilling as the nearly unrecognizable, eerily clear voice he used.

“Home.”

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sonoundiocreaturaottusa · 5 years

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Let's make some clarifications on Leaving Neverland

For five years, these men – both professional actors – have been suing Michael Jackson’s estate for hundreds of millions of dollars. This lawsuit has generated thousands of pages of court records: witness statements, motions, depositions and disclosure. These public documents PROVE beyond any reasonable doubt that the men are lying. The whole media knows about these documents, but are refusing to report on them.

*Both men strenuously defended Jackson, including under oath, for decades, and only decided they’d been molested years after his death, when they were both in financial trouble and filed a lawsuit seeking hundreds of millions of dollars. That lawsuit was thrown out of court – twice – but the men are in the middle of an appeal, giving them a gigantic financial motive to lie.

*Since filing their lawsuit, both men have repeatedly changed their stories, frequently telling directly contradictory versions of the same supposed events. For example, Wade Robson has told at least four directly contradictory stories about the first time Jackson supposedly abused him.

*In the lawsuit, Robson was caught lying under oath so brazenly that the judge threw out his entire witness statement and said no rational juror could ever believe his account.

*Between 2012 and 2014, Robson wrote two drafts of an abuse memoir and tried unsuccessfully to sell them to publishers. Meanwhile, he lied under oath and said he’d never discussed his allegations with anyone except his lawyers. When the Jackson estate discovered he’d actually been shopping books, the court ordered him to produce the drafts as evidence. They revealed the story of his abuse had changed significantly from one draft to the next.

*Robson was also ordered to release his emails as evidence. He breached the order repeatedly, first by claiming they didn’t exist, then by simply refusing to hand them over. Then he redacted all the emails between himself and his family members and cited ‘attorney-client’ privilege, even though none of his family are attorneys.

*When he eventually complied with the court order and released the emails, they revealed that at the time he was constructing his lawsuit and abuse memoir, he was researching and emailing himself links to old tabloid newspaper stories about abuse allegations against Michael Jackson.

*The emails showed Robson found one particular story from the early 1990s which specifically named he and his mother. He emailed it to his mother and asked whether it was true. She replied, ‘Wow, none of that is true’. He then included it in his story anyway.

*Emails also revealed that throughout 2011/12, Robson was lobbying Jackson’s estate for a job directing and choreographing an official Michael Jackson tribute show in Las Vegas. His campaign to secure this role had included sending emails explaining that his amazing friendship with Jackson meant nobody was better qualified for the role than he was, and he was devoted to doing the best job he possibly could ‘for Michael’. After being told someone else had got the job, he suddenly claimed he’d been abused and filed a creditor’s claim against the estate for millions of dollars.

*Months later, according to Jimmy Safechuck, he flipped on the TV and saw Wade Robson being interviewed about his lawsuit. In that moment, Safechuck suddenly remembered that he had been abused by Jackson as well, so decided to join the lawsuit. He didn’t mention that this epiphany coincided exactly with his inheritance circling the drain after a relative died and the surviving siblings started suing each other – including him – for control of the family business.

*Robson was also ordered to produce his diaries as evidence. In them, he’d written about how these allegations might rescue his failing career by making him ‘relatable and relevant’. He also wrote, ‘It’s time for me to get mine.’ When questioned under oath about what he’d meant when he wrote that, he refused to answer.

*Both men tell stories in the TV show which directly contradict stories told under oath in their lawsuit. In fact, they have continued to change their stories as recently as within the last week.

*For example, Jimmy Safechuck claims under oath in the lawsuit that he only remembered Jackson had abused him in 2013 when he turned on the TV and saw Robson. Yet in tonight’s TV show and interviews promoting it, he claims he knew he’d been abused in 2005 and thus, when asked to testify for Jackson’s defence ‘towards the end of the trial’, he refused to do so.

*But that’s a provable lie. Safechuck was never asked to testify for Jackson’s defence. The judge ruled long before the trial began that testimony could only be heard about certain children, and Safechuck was not one of them. All testimony about Safechuck was literally banned from the courtroom. So Jackson’s defence cannot have asked him to testify – and certainly not after the trial was already underway.

*Robson claimed in a BBC interview last week that Jackson had abused him ‘hundreds of times’. Yet his mother’s sworn testimony is that they went to Neverland roughly 14 times but Jackson was almost never there. She estimates the number of times they visited the ranch and he was actually there was four.

*Questioned about their financial motive, the men now say they don’t care about money and are only suing to embolden other abuse victims by holding the Jackson estate accountable. This is a provable lie. The lawsuit was originally filed under seal and Robson tried to extract a settlement from the estate with zero publicity. Only when the estate refused to pay a bean did he go public.

I could continue, but if you’re still on board with the TV show and its accusers at this point, you are irrational to the point of mania.

This ‘documentary’ covers up all of this information, instead presenting two professional actors’ heavily edited and completely unchallenged testimony without ever examining their credibility, their proven lies and perjury, their constantly changing stories or their financial motives.

Charles Thomson, Ray Fitzwalter Award for Investigative Journalism / 2 x Highly Commended Weekly Reporter of the Year / Local Hero (Highly Commended) @ British Journalism Awards

~ Charles Thomson, Ray Fitzwalter Award for Investigative Journalism / 2 x Highly Commended Weekly Reporter of the Year / Local Hero (Highly Commended) @ British Journalism Awards

#justice for michael jackson #michael jackson is innocent #michael jackson #leaving neverland

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