(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]

In the stunned wake of Ambrose's powerful speech, Wyatt allows himself a small smile as he squeezes his partner's hand and covers it with both. He doesn't need words to express how proud he is this very moment. If his smile doesn't tell it all, one need only glance at the assembled Viewers to see something similar mirrored in their collective posture. Raw feels it, and it boosts his own pride, and through him, the others feel it as keenly as were it their own emotion. Indeed, it is.

But out of the initial silence comes a low, insistent murmur, and three sharp blows of wood on wood. "Order!" Bellows the otherwise mild-mannered judge. "I will have order!"

Soon after, the court is adjourned for an hour, while the judge deliberates. Leaving the assembled spectators, witnesses and Tin Men to do as they please, at least for a little while. Wyatt doesn't let go of Ambrose's hand, not even when they're out of the courtroom. But when they are, he lifts his hand to caress his cheek, asking without words if he's okay.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose is trembling slightly, but he walks steadily, head held up and refusing to be cowed, that spark of fierce and silent determination he used when facing down the Witch apparent in his gaze, his face, his very step.

It's only when they step to the side for a brief bit of privacy that he lets out a shuddering breath. He nods slightly, but he's pale under the touches of makeup.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"You did good, Ambrose. More than good," Wyatt murmurs close to his ear. "I'm so proud of you, Sweetheart."

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"I was so scared," he whispers. "I haven't spoken publicly for so long." He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I didn't ramble did I? Or glitch? Please tell me I didn't glitch."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He smiles, relieved that it's just Ambrose coming off the tail end of an adrenaline rush. "You didn't glitch once. Not once. And you didn't ramble, or speak too fast or anything. You were brilliant."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Oh thank goodness. I was so worried I'd glitch, but when I stood up, I was more worried about speaking than glitching." Which might be why he didn't glitch.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"It kept you distracted, I guess." He strokes his thumb carefully over soft cheek, not wanting to disrupt powders or smudge anything that might get smudged.

"You made a very compelling point, and everyone listened to you. Everyone watched, and everyone heard what you had to say. ...you know what they say, Ambrose?"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

There's just touches of powders and pigments, enough to be striking, not heavy handed.

He closes his eyes. "What?"

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Still. It's a novel thing. New and unfamiliar when all Adora would ever wear was different kinds of flour, and unintentionally.

"There's this theory that says the minority is more powerful than the majority, in that it takes just one person to speak up against the current state of affairs to sow doubt. To get people thinking, and questioning their preconceptions. You got people thinking, Ambrose. That's powerful."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"They need to think," Ambrose says, impassioned all over again. "Before people die, before we lose the shells of great minds and the shell of a great society that's only now starting to crawl itself out from the wreck that we've been ground down to!"

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"They do! And if I know DG right, she'll be running to the nearest printer in town with that recording thing of hers to give them the scoop. You had some very important things to say in there... Words needing to be spread all over the Zone."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"You- you think so?" Even as an adviser, as an academic, he hadn't done much public speaking, really, more publications.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"I certainly do. It's about time everyone's eyes are opened. Even if you don't want to speak for all headcases out there, you're one of few who can speak for yourself. If something isn't done, and soon, even more lives will be lost because people just don't care."

It's a horrible thought, all the formerly great men and women dying from starvation or freezing in winter, in addition to being killed in the streets. "Whether you like it or not, you're a shining example of headcases being people."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I know," he breathes out. "That's why I did this. I'm lucky, my mind has been salvaged and is at times recoverable. A lot of my colleagues, the ones not just executed, don't have this chance. Philosophers, academics... we don't know how many we lost and what we lost with them. I can speak, so I must speak. Because they can't."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"And maybe it will encourage the remaining intellectuals out there to help what looks like a lost cause."

It's a good look on Ambrose, this newfound passion and fire and drive. It's absolutely stunning. "You want to get out of here for a while? Get some air or grab a bite?"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Oh, rather," he sighs. "I was too nervous to eat breakfast and it's much later than I normally have lunch. We normally have lunch." He grips Wyatt's hand.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He doesn't say anything about one missed meal, he won't, but he silently berates himself for not noticing. "Then let's go. We'll meet up with the kids and Raw later. You know how we do this, right?"

Demonstratively closing his eyes and breathing in through his nose, Wyatt opens his eyes with a wink and leads the way.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose had run out early to get ready and prepared while Wyatt was getting ready for court. He holds onto Wyatt's arm, smiling slightly. "I'll let you smell something down, then," he says.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"I do have a fine enough nose for it," he points out. Breathing in again, he says, "Spices, different kinds of pepper mostly... Red meat and paprika and sizzling fat that way," he says, pointing in the middle distance, to a grab and go booth built into a wall.

"Rhye bread and tea and different kinds of cheese and meat that way," pointing in another direction. "And I do think I can smell noodles not too far away. One of those places full of stuff to choose from, and several pots full of spicy broth to cook your noodles in."

He turns to Ambrose expectantly. "You get to pick."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose thinks about it for a long moment. "Bread and tea," he says after a thoughtful moment, pointing in the wrong direction. "I feel like something very light, the butterflies are still in my stomach.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Gently, oh so very patiently, Wyatt reaches behind Ambrose's shoulder to subtly pull his arm in the right direction.

"Then bread and tea it is."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

He turns, lifting his chin and pointing the right way. "That way. I knew that. Bread and tea sounds lovely."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Beside his partner, Wyatt smiles and starts walking. "Bread and tea's always lovely with you, Sweetheart."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I like how you call me that," he says softly, with a small smile.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Yeah?" He turns to look, eyes full of warmth and happiness. "Good. Wouldn't want to find out you don't."