(no subject)

[amicably_absent]

Glitch wanted to stay in the cabin forever, but Ambrose insisted on heading back, getting home the day before the trial was set to happen. He didn't elaborate on why, though it was fairly apparent that he wanted to attend, especially when he spent an hour the night before it setting out clothes, putting them in orders with numbers to clearly mark how they went on. It was a lot of work and planning.

Ambrose, also unlike Glitch, had no problems using the privilege of an attendant to help get ready. He gets dressed carefully in what is just shy of a dress uniform but speaks with position to anyone entitled to know it. The attendant helps him with his hair, getting the ringlets settled neatly, if not combed down in his usual manner. He thinks Glitch would protest it and, as he has been told, he needs to stop being ashamed of the line of steel in his scalp. A few touches of make up highlight his pale, striking appearance and he asks Wyatt to escort him down to the court house.

Wyatt has to be there anyway, as the first officer on scene with the small delegation of Viewers who will also present evidence through a mirror set up in court just for that, one with a moratanium frame that Ambrose thinks he might've designed.

The case isn't short, but the conclusion is foregone. He himself is unable to sit to testify, no headcase testimony can be taken by the court, but since he can't remember anything anyway, there would be no point in unnecessarily working him up into glitching.

He does that enough as it is. Each bit of testimony sets off glitches and skips, fragments of thought and getting caught in cycles. It's a hard, long few hours as they plow though it all. They plead guilty, but it's before sentencing that the judge asks if anyone has anything to say.

That's when he raises his hand. "I do, Your Honour."

The judge gives him a long look. "While you cannot testify, the court will recognise any additional statements you have to offer, Adviser Ambrose."

He stands up, smoothing down his military style coat with the tiny badges across the breast marking the medals he won't wear in public. "My learned judge, I would ask you to consider clemency in your sentencing of these men."

He takes a breath to give the noise a moment to subside. "I cannot and will not condone the acts of violence that have been committed, against myself and potentially against other individuals who have suffered violation at the hands of the Witch's surgeons. Justice and retribution is the domain of the court and the police, and it is unacceptable to have the public taking vengeance for actions that may - or indeed may not - have been committed. The court has already taken action against violent offenders, their headcasing is - believe me - punishment enough for their actions, leaving them incapable of directed malice of any consistent amount.

"But.

"The commonality of headcasing as political terrorism to silence dissidence and rebellion is not yet commonly seen, understood or recognised. Ignorance, in truth, is the enemy here. These men were wrong, but they acted in fear and ignorance. I personally feel no need to vengeance against these men, I pity them for being so scared during these dark times past that they cannot reach towards the better future we are all striving for. I pity their ignorance in attacking those who present a visible sign of their ongoing imprisonment, for the thoughts they had, the allegiances they held and not for any crime committed. Headcasing for crime is almost unknown now, but for political motivations? That has been far more prevalent in recent times. Punishment should be a learning aid, to educated individuals and society and this case and serve to educate these men, theoir families and society as a whole. Not just of the heinous acts taken against political prisoners such as myself, but a learning experience that the barbaric and harsh times of the Witch are over and we will once again strive towards a benevolent society of correction, not vengeance."

He bows his head. "Thank you." And he sits down, reaching for Wyatt's hand.

Comments

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"And pillows." He sets out to find pillows in the adjoined room, where he and Glitch spend so much of their time together. The blankets are stripped from the bed, the pillows too. If he's more comfortable in the office, Wyatt certainly won't argue the point.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"And pillows," Ambrose agrees. He strips himself as he waist, shrugging off his jacket and pulling off his shirt, folding both neatly and setting them on his desk. He takes off his shoes and sets them aside with his socks.

The office is his space. More than any other room, this is his.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Wyatt returns within moments to deposit his findings (now including a fluffy duvet to lie on) on the floor. Maybe body heat is the best way to go, but there's nothing wrong with a bit of added help. His shoes are belatedly left by the door along with his socks, and then... Then he looks at Ambrose, liking very much what he sees.

They've come a long way from those first, awkward days.

"Let's get you warmed up, Sweetheart."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose pauses in getting his pants undone, looking up at Wyatt with a wide, blinking gaze. "Mm?" He wriggles out of his pants, spreading out the fluffy duvet to lie down on, curling the edge up and around him as he shivers. "Sounds good."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Okay, then. That's unexpected, and it's sending him mixed signals, but he unbuckles his belt and steps out of his pants as well before padding over to the makeshift bed and sitting down. He picks out one of the pillows, with a softly spoken, "Lift your head for me."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose lifts his head and tugs Wyatt closer, to get them skin to skin and then drag the other side of the duvet up to cradle them both, wanting the other blanket on top of them.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He's right on top of that, unfurling the blanket right before he slides into the embrace and wraps his arms and legs firmly around his lover.

It's so much better. So much. It's familiar and new and strange and so, very good just to be close. "You're freezing."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"You're not much warmer yourself," he chatters, snuggling in close and tugging the blankets up to half over his head, ducking down to warm his face against Wyatt's shoulder and chest.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

His hands stroke briskly up and down Ambrose's back, trying to get him warm again, while their combined body temp works towards the same goal within the confines of their cocoon.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I love you, of course I worry," he says softly. He kisses Wyatt's shoulder, hugging him tightly.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"I know," he smiles against the soft skin at the other man's hairline. "I'll be fine as long as you are."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I'll be fine," he promises. "I'm warming up already."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He nods, snuggling in closer, if that's even possible. "We'll go talk to the in-house doctor tomorrow, ask for something, in case you have another reaction to something. In future."

And Raw isn't close by enough, he leaves unsaid.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I used to have a vial. It hung on my belt." He doesn't know what was in it, but it feels relevant right now.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

And the kitchen staff would know what not to prepare for him, if only thanks to the Queen informing them. It makes sense.

"We'll get a new one, then. Something that will help."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Eating from the kitchens, the food has been prepared with Ambrose's allergy in mind. And it isn't something that he was likely to cook for himself out in the wild after he was headcased.

"It had... little cogs. You just pressed the- and it-" he sighs. "I can't remember."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Huh..." he hums, thinking on it for a moment, trying to figure out what he means. And from what he knows of allergy treatments, there's three ways to go. Pills, inhaling fumes, or injecting something. He's guessing pills would take too long to do the job. "Like an inhaler or a syringe?"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Syringe! A mechanised syringe, so delivery is mechanically controlled automatically without a need for steady grip or clear thought!" It's enough to jog the memory out.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He'll remember that. He'll make sure to remember it, for when Ambrose gets it into his head to make a new one. It would be very, very good to have one of those, and neither of them can afford to get it wrong.

"I'm guessing you made it. I know, not the wildest guess there ever was..."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I did. There was an incident at school, a boy's prank, but I was hospitalised for three days and blacked out in the dining hall before people realised I wasn't joking around."

He isn't sure where that came from. "Hm."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He frowns, tensing up just at the thought of such a thing. "That's horrible."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Mm. I don't think they believed me when I said had an awful allergy... anyway, you know what boys are like, especially competitive teenagers." He's finally stopped shivering.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"I know..." He does. He was one of them, a long, long time ago. Loved playing pranks on unsuspecting people.

"I'm just used to pranks not being near fatal."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"As I say, no one meant for me to be hurt." He remembers red face and genuine upset in the faces leaning over him in the hospital bed. "But it inspired me to make something which would instantly deliver professional grade drugs in the right fashion regardless of the attention of a medico."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"You and Glitch should make a new one," he says with silent confidence that they can in fact do so.