(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

[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?"

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"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.

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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..."

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"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."

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

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"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.

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"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."

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"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."

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

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"If we can," he says softly. "Wyatt?" He looks up, cheeks pinking slowly with warmth.

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He'll get help the moment he asks for it. "Yes, Ambrose?"

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"I think I'd like to make love tonight, if you don't mind." He's completely straight faced asking, no apparent jest in his words.

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He chuckles regardless, tilting his face up for a kiss that doesn't break for a good long while if he has any say in the matter.

"If I mind? Sweetheart..." He looks into his eyes. "I love you. I don't mind at all."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

The chuckle seems to almost take Ambrose aback, but the kiss soothes away any sting from the small laugh. And then the worries. And also the concern, until he's just melting.

"I love you too." He looks up at those pale blue eyes he loves so much.

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"I didn't mean to laugh, Sweetheart, but... You caught me by surprise, and the question, and... You shouldn't feel the need to ask me if I'd mind."

He smiles, meeting Ambrose's gaze with all the love in his heart. "I love you. I respect and admire you, I cherish every moment with you I can get, and I think you're the most attractive man I know, and just kissing you makes my knees go weak sometimes, there's nothing more I'd love than making love to you..."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"It only seemed right, rather than presuming that you're in mind and mood for it after what happened. But I rather would like to. Especially when you speak such poetry to me that I like to think is inspired just by the depth of your emotions for me."

He shifts to lie on Wyatt, hand cupping Wyatt's face.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He presses into the touch, helping Ambrose every way he can to get comfortable. "I don't know where else I'd find inspiration," he says earnestly, reaching up to lace their fingers together.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose just seems to be lying to get warmer and more comfortable. He laces their fingers, holding tight. "I like that I inspire you to those words." He bends down for a soft kiss.

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He gets one back, the corners of Wyatt's mouth pulling into a smile. "You're very inspirational. And better with words than I am."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Would you rather have a fire going, Wyatt?" Only he knows that after sex, when you're sweaty and cooling, a fire can nicely take the chill off.

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"Please. I love the way you look with the light of it dancing over your features."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose takes another kiss and leans over to poke at the ignition system. Unsurprisingly, in this office, there's a tiny in built system of flints that strikes when Ambrose pushes the button, striking sparks over the kindling in there.

"I kept burning myself with matches. They're so unreliable."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Ooh," he says at that, not at all unlike the first time he saw Glitch fight like a professional. "That's a nice setup you got here."

Looking back at Ambrose, looking him over as the warm glow of the fireplace gets going.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose smiles that pleased little smile of his, just like after that first fight. "Thank you." He shifts back onto Wyatt fully, wriggling slightly to get comfortable. "Nice and toasty warm."