Deliberations, daemonfic
Title: Deliberations
Fandom: Original/HDM (His Dark Materials)
Rating: R. (Character death)
Summary: What should be a routine capitol murder case teaches Bruce Baker and his twelve colleagues that nothing-especially in regards to capitol murder-is ever routine.
Notes: Part two of Deliberations. Something goes awry, there’s clearly more at work here.
Here’s hoping you’re all enjoying this.
In the beginning there was the word and the word was law to the first man and the first daemon who walked forth from the Garden of Eden. The first of the commandments, thou shalt not kill had been broken numerous times since that final finger wagging by a diety who would remain involved but absent. In his wake he set up courts filled with people who occasionally came across justice when they weren’t looking for it.
The circumstances are these.
A man killed two people, a woman he claimed to love and another man he claimed to cherish. The Municipal Court of San Diego under the Honorable Barbara Hester were asked to find if he was guilty or innocent of the crimes against him. His future hung in the balance, and a jury of his peers, twelve humans and twelve daemons were asked to decide his fate.
Bruce Baker was scratching Isis’s head, “…Do you really want to go over it again?”
“From the beginning.” The Grasshopper woman was no longer just “Grasshopper. “He’d learned her name was Miranda, her daemon was Bacchus, she owned a bookstore in Hillcrest. She was gay, something she was extremely open about unusual given her exterior-a pudgy librarian with thick glasses and long curly brown hair. She looked like the motherly sort-far too shy to do some of the things she’d described doing.
Enter a chorus of groans as their foreperson- (She was no longer just “The spider” her name was Leslie and she worked at a Bank) opened the folder again, “…Marilyn…”
Marilyn worked at a fast food restaurant. She’d been incredibly excited to be a part of the proceedings-until they actually got underway. Isis shot the cheetah a dirty look-apparently wide-awake. The cat was alert, staring straight ahead…
Unlike the human dozing in the chair, “…What? -Wha-“
“Aw c’mon now…” the German Shepard was George. Ex-army, and a former cop, “We’ve been over this a dozen times.”
“Don’t be so quick to judge.” The firefly was Kurt. Kurt was a waiter who’d automatically placed himself next to Marilyn. It had taken Bruce a moment to realize that they’d divided based on occupation. Leslie sat at the head of the table; hand on the massive tarantula purring beside her with Kurt, Marilyn, Tony (The Mechanic), and Sally who worked for Radio shack on one side. Sally kept her hand on the emperor penguin like it was a stuffed toy, something the daemon didn’t seem to mind.
On the opposite side sat George, Marley prim and proper beside him. The Elkhound belonged to Roger who managed a four star restaurant and hated being here even more then George did. The Chimp was Lucy, a Fashion Designer who kept a home in San Diego and was missing her big show in Milan to be here. Everyone had been wary of Omar-not because of his nationality (He was a Muslim they’d all learned) but because he was a major executive on a major oil company headquartered in town.
And then there was bob. Bob who was so unmemorable that George had trouble recalling what he did or who he was-only thinking about the hawk on his shoulder and how pretty she (she?) was.
“Mr. Baker?”
“Bruce?”
“Yo.” A finger reached over and poked him. Bruce jerked, startled, “…Hey!”
“Hey yourself.” Kurt withdrew, “…C’mon man, give us the coroner’s stuff. That’s what you were taking notes on right?”
Truth be told, after the scandal in the courtroom he’d sort of stopped taking notes, but that was beside the point. Isis stirred beneath his hands, honking as she alighted atop the table, “…Cause of death was same for them both. Two gunshots. Went through both bodies.”
“…Ow.” The penguin spoke, Sally jerking in surprise, “That had to hurt.”
“…Sally-“ Leslie’s voice was calm, “…You were the one who was supposed to be watching his daemon-what kind of a bead did you get?”
Daemons through a loop into the justice system that no one had anticipated. On shows they were always at each other’s throats-people bleeding from wounds. The same taboos were enforced, but if you were a suspect and the officer deemed you a “danger” to yourself or others they could use their daemon to secure you. Consequently, it was made a practice (unspoken of course) to watch daemons at trial.
Sally shifted nervously, “…Orlando?”
The penguin sighed, “…I didn’t like it.”
Because daemons could see things that people couldn’t see, saw things that ordinary humans didn’t understand.
“I got that vibe too.” Lucy’s daemon spoke up, clambering onto the table, “There was a real…”
“Cold vibe?” George said, “…Like…”
“He had ice water in his veins.” Tony said. His daemon nodded assent. She set her paws on the table, “You could tell that motherfucker was a badass motherfucker.”
“We’re not talking about that.” Miranda spoke up abruptly, “we’re talking about his state of mind. Going on gut instinct’s good but Sal-“ She turned to the penguin girl who jerked as if struck, “did you get anything concrete?”
Bruce wondered what his wife was making for dinner. He wondered if Reese was playing with Lepis and Conner. He wondered what the day at the beach was going to be like.
“Because need I remind you.” Miranda was always saying things like that. She’d initially opted for foreperson spot despite Leslie being elected. She continued to prattle on, listing meaningless reasons as the occasional daemon rolled their eyes.
“She’s a bank manager.” Isis waved a wing at him, “That’s why we picked her.”
“I know.” He threw his goose a look, “Keep out of my mind issy.”
“Well dammit, if you’re not paying attention…”
Bruce closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. They were good chairs, good enough to keep him from thinking about Miranda’s tirade. They weren’t just doing this for corporal Rogers, they were doing this for Veronica and Melbourne who were dead (thank you very much) along with Andrew and Nolan who’d also been “struck down”
“She talks like a writer.”
“Probably is.” Bruce Yawned. He could just see it, a travel writer, science fiction, fantasy, someone who fantasized about real life and took offense when anyone talked about it thusly. Come to think of it, a lot of the kids there had that vibe. The blonde with the cheetah wouldn’t shut up about movies while Kurt would roll dice around in his hand while bored.
Leslie folded her hands in front of her, “Miranda, you can’t convict on a daemon bead alone. Our system is about the facts involving the individual.”
“The facts are all very clear.” Omar said, “I’m voting for conviction.”
“We’ll do this democratically.” Bob murmured. He grabbed for a piece of paper and began to tear it into bits as his Hawk spoke, “…We all write our votes, throw them in a hat. That’ll come up with a verdict.”
“…Is that what we’re supposed to do?” Sally exchanged glances with Tony, “…I mean, just vote like that?”
“The miracle of the democratic process.” Miranda yawned, “…Might be able to make the showing of the Incredible Hulk after all.”
“Oooo How is that?” Roger didn’t look at his paper as he wrote, “…I’ve heard good things.”
“Meh.” Kurt said, “…Last one sucked.” He folded his piece of paper in half and in half again, “Can’t think why this one would be any better.”
“Doesn’t it have that guy from American history X in it?” George pulled a had out of nowhere, “…C’mon now-everybody push your papers to the center of the table.”
“Why’re we doing that?” Sally asked, “Shouldn’t we put them in a hat?”
“Close your eyes and do it.”
“Now that.” Bruce heard himself speak, “Seems kind of odd.”
“Makes it fair.” Leslie closed her eyes. Isis’s world went dark as well as Bruce pushed the tiny square of paper to the center of the table. Shafts of light fell across them, a collected bundle of trash that would apparently decide life or death for the man involved in the brutal murder.
“What d’you think?”
Leslie grabbed the papers, pushing them toward her. Isis cuddled against Bruce’s front, “…He’s guilty.”
“…Glad we’re on the same page.”
“…What kind of a bead did you get off that daemon?” Bruce was curious, “I mean, snakes are usually evil people right?”
“Or teachers. People who study things. It’s not one clear cut definition.” Isis turned to look at Leslie, “There. Verdicts.”
Leslie seemed to sit up a little straighter. With her combed appearance and the spider on her shoulder she looked murderous herself. Bruce wondered if this was the gaze she used on her bank employees, on the people at her meetings. Makes me wonder what it’d be like to work for her…
“Okay. Guilty-“
He saw bob lean back.
Leslie unfolded another square, “Guilty…”
He wondered if the firefly was, even now, chastising her human for folding the paper in half and half again. Kurt shrugged, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head.
“Guilty-“
“That was me!” Sally held up a hand before the penguin, eyes narrowed, muttered something beneath his breath.
“Not supposed to say anything bonehead.” Marilyn shrugged.
“…Who drew the little picture of the guy with the gavel waving it around?”
Marilyn looked away as the cheetah shifted its weight from foot to foot, “It’s a compulsion we can’t really help.”
“Hope the judge doesn’t see that.” Roger chuckled, “Might not take it too kindly.”
“…Guilty.”
The recitations read straight. Guilty across the board. Bruce imagined going home and hugging his wife, going home to a nice hot meal-telling his family about the case…
“…Woah. Okay-who wrote innocent?”
The dream died as the jurors groaned. Leslie rubbed at her temple, “c’mon now, who put in the innocent?”
“…Can’t we convict with eleven?” Kurt asked, “…please?”
“I’ve got to get home!”
“My wife and I have dinner plans.” Roger said bluntly, “I don’t intend to remain here and miss them.”
“We’re gonna have to.” Marilyn said, “…We’re going to have to stay and be sequestered at a hotel until we can come up with a verdict.”
More adults groaned as Leslie shot the fast food worker a look that would melt a glacier if given one in the room, “That’s only in the movies.”
“…What, are they going to lock us in here?”
“This would go a lot faster if someone would admit that they put the verdict in there.” George said, “Come on now, which one of you was it? Which one of you thinks this scumbag is innocent? I mean-“
His words were interrupted by a loud noise-a scream outside the courtroom.
Bruce blinked. Isis was on her feet as the biggest daemons in the room rose, dragging their humans forcibly to the door.
“…What was that?”
“…Gunshot.” Marilyn watched the door warily, “…Didn’t think it’d be so loud.”
“That wasn’t a gunshot.” Kurt snapped, “They don’t fire gunshots in the building.”
“The girl’s right son.” Marley nosed at the door as George moved forward, “I’m an ex-cop-“
“Bullshit!” Leslie growled, “and I’m the foreperson!”
“You-ma’am-are a civilian! You can’t go out there!”
“Like Hell I can’t!” The spider reared up its legs as the German Shepard growled. Bruce backed away, knocking into Bob who’s hawk shifted anxiously across his shoulders.
There was another gunshot, an angry noise before Tony nodded to the Jackal, “I’m going.”
George and Leslie’s mouth opened at the same time as he elbowed into the door with Kurt following directly behind him…
Isis was the first to say it. “Like a movie indeed.”
Bruce laughed. It was the only thing he could think of doing.
The hallway outside the courtroom was a study in destruction. Two smoking gunshots hissed from the door opposite the anti-chamber where they’d been asked to deliberate. A court officer lay back, blood oozing from a hole in his chest.
Sally’s penguin started to whimper. The cheetah snarled, the dog’s tails twitching. His daemon-whatever it had been-was gone. A smoking reminder of who he’d been gone to dust and glory.
There was a noise. Everyone braced as something came stumbling out of the room across from them. Something large and white faded in and out of reality as The Defense attorney dropped to her knees.
“Get out of the way.”
Roger moved to help her, his elkhound going for the swan. Leslie nodded mutely, shoving George and Miranda out of his way as he reached for the creature, “I did a tour in med-school.”
“Really?”
Sally sniffled, “…He died…”
“She’s almost dead.” Leslie snapped, “Sal, get her something to wrap that wound in.” she knelt, hand on the woman’s shoulder, “Who did this to you?”
The attorney shook her head.
“…Maggie!”
Twelve heads looked up as the Assistant District Attorney appeared at the end of the hallway. The police straightened beside him, their dog daemons looking to the jurors and shooting them dirty looks, “Get back-Get back-“
“Maggie, Jesus-“ The man put a hand on her shoulder, “…Maggie?”
“He did it.”
“…Who? Who did?”
“…Sir!”
The cop’s name was Samson, a bear of a man with huge hairy hands and a face covered with a bushy mustache. His St. Bernard dwarfed Marley, originally the biggest dog in the room, “…Corporal Richardson’s gone.”
Isis couldn’t resist a snap even then, held securely in Bruce’s arms-not seeming to mind how much he was trembling, “…So much for a chance for reason.”
The Defense Attorney laughed, a loud noise that made everyone jump. It sounded almost like a gunshot.
Fandom: Original/HDM (His Dark Materials)
Rating: R. (Character death)
Summary: What should be a routine capitol murder case teaches Bruce Baker and his twelve colleagues that nothing-especially in regards to capitol murder-is ever routine.
Notes: Part two of Deliberations. Something goes awry, there’s clearly more at work here.
Here’s hoping you’re all enjoying this.
In the beginning there was the word and the word was law to the first man and the first daemon who walked forth from the Garden of Eden. The first of the commandments, thou shalt not kill had been broken numerous times since that final finger wagging by a diety who would remain involved but absent. In his wake he set up courts filled with people who occasionally came across justice when they weren’t looking for it.
The circumstances are these.
A man killed two people, a woman he claimed to love and another man he claimed to cherish. The Municipal Court of San Diego under the Honorable Barbara Hester were asked to find if he was guilty or innocent of the crimes against him. His future hung in the balance, and a jury of his peers, twelve humans and twelve daemons were asked to decide his fate.
Bruce Baker was scratching Isis’s head, “…Do you really want to go over it again?”
“From the beginning.” The Grasshopper woman was no longer just “Grasshopper. “He’d learned her name was Miranda, her daemon was Bacchus, she owned a bookstore in Hillcrest. She was gay, something she was extremely open about unusual given her exterior-a pudgy librarian with thick glasses and long curly brown hair. She looked like the motherly sort-far too shy to do some of the things she’d described doing.
Enter a chorus of groans as their foreperson- (She was no longer just “The spider” her name was Leslie and she worked at a Bank) opened the folder again, “…Marilyn…”
Marilyn worked at a fast food restaurant. She’d been incredibly excited to be a part of the proceedings-until they actually got underway. Isis shot the cheetah a dirty look-apparently wide-awake. The cat was alert, staring straight ahead…
Unlike the human dozing in the chair, “…What? -Wha-“
“Aw c’mon now…” the German Shepard was George. Ex-army, and a former cop, “We’ve been over this a dozen times.”
“Don’t be so quick to judge.” The firefly was Kurt. Kurt was a waiter who’d automatically placed himself next to Marilyn. It had taken Bruce a moment to realize that they’d divided based on occupation. Leslie sat at the head of the table; hand on the massive tarantula purring beside her with Kurt, Marilyn, Tony (The Mechanic), and Sally who worked for Radio shack on one side. Sally kept her hand on the emperor penguin like it was a stuffed toy, something the daemon didn’t seem to mind.
On the opposite side sat George, Marley prim and proper beside him. The Elkhound belonged to Roger who managed a four star restaurant and hated being here even more then George did. The Chimp was Lucy, a Fashion Designer who kept a home in San Diego and was missing her big show in Milan to be here. Everyone had been wary of Omar-not because of his nationality (He was a Muslim they’d all learned) but because he was a major executive on a major oil company headquartered in town.
And then there was bob. Bob who was so unmemorable that George had trouble recalling what he did or who he was-only thinking about the hawk on his shoulder and how pretty she (she?) was.
“Mr. Baker?”
“Bruce?”
“Yo.” A finger reached over and poked him. Bruce jerked, startled, “…Hey!”
“Hey yourself.” Kurt withdrew, “…C’mon man, give us the coroner’s stuff. That’s what you were taking notes on right?”
Truth be told, after the scandal in the courtroom he’d sort of stopped taking notes, but that was beside the point. Isis stirred beneath his hands, honking as she alighted atop the table, “…Cause of death was same for them both. Two gunshots. Went through both bodies.”
“…Ow.” The penguin spoke, Sally jerking in surprise, “That had to hurt.”
“…Sally-“ Leslie’s voice was calm, “…You were the one who was supposed to be watching his daemon-what kind of a bead did you get?”
Daemons through a loop into the justice system that no one had anticipated. On shows they were always at each other’s throats-people bleeding from wounds. The same taboos were enforced, but if you were a suspect and the officer deemed you a “danger” to yourself or others they could use their daemon to secure you. Consequently, it was made a practice (unspoken of course) to watch daemons at trial.
Sally shifted nervously, “…Orlando?”
The penguin sighed, “…I didn’t like it.”
Because daemons could see things that people couldn’t see, saw things that ordinary humans didn’t understand.
“I got that vibe too.” Lucy’s daemon spoke up, clambering onto the table, “There was a real…”
“Cold vibe?” George said, “…Like…”
“He had ice water in his veins.” Tony said. His daemon nodded assent. She set her paws on the table, “You could tell that motherfucker was a badass motherfucker.”
“We’re not talking about that.” Miranda spoke up abruptly, “we’re talking about his state of mind. Going on gut instinct’s good but Sal-“ She turned to the penguin girl who jerked as if struck, “did you get anything concrete?”
Bruce wondered what his wife was making for dinner. He wondered if Reese was playing with Lepis and Conner. He wondered what the day at the beach was going to be like.
“Because need I remind you.” Miranda was always saying things like that. She’d initially opted for foreperson spot despite Leslie being elected. She continued to prattle on, listing meaningless reasons as the occasional daemon rolled their eyes.
“She’s a bank manager.” Isis waved a wing at him, “That’s why we picked her.”
“I know.” He threw his goose a look, “Keep out of my mind issy.”
“Well dammit, if you’re not paying attention…”
Bruce closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. They were good chairs, good enough to keep him from thinking about Miranda’s tirade. They weren’t just doing this for corporal Rogers, they were doing this for Veronica and Melbourne who were dead (thank you very much) along with Andrew and Nolan who’d also been “struck down”
“She talks like a writer.”
“Probably is.” Bruce Yawned. He could just see it, a travel writer, science fiction, fantasy, someone who fantasized about real life and took offense when anyone talked about it thusly. Come to think of it, a lot of the kids there had that vibe. The blonde with the cheetah wouldn’t shut up about movies while Kurt would roll dice around in his hand while bored.
Leslie folded her hands in front of her, “Miranda, you can’t convict on a daemon bead alone. Our system is about the facts involving the individual.”
“The facts are all very clear.” Omar said, “I’m voting for conviction.”
“We’ll do this democratically.” Bob murmured. He grabbed for a piece of paper and began to tear it into bits as his Hawk spoke, “…We all write our votes, throw them in a hat. That’ll come up with a verdict.”
“…Is that what we’re supposed to do?” Sally exchanged glances with Tony, “…I mean, just vote like that?”
“The miracle of the democratic process.” Miranda yawned, “…Might be able to make the showing of the Incredible Hulk after all.”
“Oooo How is that?” Roger didn’t look at his paper as he wrote, “…I’ve heard good things.”
“Meh.” Kurt said, “…Last one sucked.” He folded his piece of paper in half and in half again, “Can’t think why this one would be any better.”
“Doesn’t it have that guy from American history X in it?” George pulled a had out of nowhere, “…C’mon now-everybody push your papers to the center of the table.”
“Why’re we doing that?” Sally asked, “Shouldn’t we put them in a hat?”
“Close your eyes and do it.”
“Now that.” Bruce heard himself speak, “Seems kind of odd.”
“Makes it fair.” Leslie closed her eyes. Isis’s world went dark as well as Bruce pushed the tiny square of paper to the center of the table. Shafts of light fell across them, a collected bundle of trash that would apparently decide life or death for the man involved in the brutal murder.
“What d’you think?”
Leslie grabbed the papers, pushing them toward her. Isis cuddled against Bruce’s front, “…He’s guilty.”
“…Glad we’re on the same page.”
“…What kind of a bead did you get off that daemon?” Bruce was curious, “I mean, snakes are usually evil people right?”
“Or teachers. People who study things. It’s not one clear cut definition.” Isis turned to look at Leslie, “There. Verdicts.”
Leslie seemed to sit up a little straighter. With her combed appearance and the spider on her shoulder she looked murderous herself. Bruce wondered if this was the gaze she used on her bank employees, on the people at her meetings. Makes me wonder what it’d be like to work for her…
“Okay. Guilty-“
He saw bob lean back.
Leslie unfolded another square, “Guilty…”
He wondered if the firefly was, even now, chastising her human for folding the paper in half and half again. Kurt shrugged, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head.
“Guilty-“
“That was me!” Sally held up a hand before the penguin, eyes narrowed, muttered something beneath his breath.
“Not supposed to say anything bonehead.” Marilyn shrugged.
“…Who drew the little picture of the guy with the gavel waving it around?”
Marilyn looked away as the cheetah shifted its weight from foot to foot, “It’s a compulsion we can’t really help.”
“Hope the judge doesn’t see that.” Roger chuckled, “Might not take it too kindly.”
“…Guilty.”
The recitations read straight. Guilty across the board. Bruce imagined going home and hugging his wife, going home to a nice hot meal-telling his family about the case…
“…Woah. Okay-who wrote innocent?”
The dream died as the jurors groaned. Leslie rubbed at her temple, “c’mon now, who put in the innocent?”
“…Can’t we convict with eleven?” Kurt asked, “…please?”
“I’ve got to get home!”
“My wife and I have dinner plans.” Roger said bluntly, “I don’t intend to remain here and miss them.”
“We’re gonna have to.” Marilyn said, “…We’re going to have to stay and be sequestered at a hotel until we can come up with a verdict.”
More adults groaned as Leslie shot the fast food worker a look that would melt a glacier if given one in the room, “That’s only in the movies.”
“…What, are they going to lock us in here?”
“This would go a lot faster if someone would admit that they put the verdict in there.” George said, “Come on now, which one of you was it? Which one of you thinks this scumbag is innocent? I mean-“
His words were interrupted by a loud noise-a scream outside the courtroom.
Bruce blinked. Isis was on her feet as the biggest daemons in the room rose, dragging their humans forcibly to the door.
“…What was that?”
“…Gunshot.” Marilyn watched the door warily, “…Didn’t think it’d be so loud.”
“That wasn’t a gunshot.” Kurt snapped, “They don’t fire gunshots in the building.”
“The girl’s right son.” Marley nosed at the door as George moved forward, “I’m an ex-cop-“
“Bullshit!” Leslie growled, “and I’m the foreperson!”
“You-ma’am-are a civilian! You can’t go out there!”
“Like Hell I can’t!” The spider reared up its legs as the German Shepard growled. Bruce backed away, knocking into Bob who’s hawk shifted anxiously across his shoulders.
There was another gunshot, an angry noise before Tony nodded to the Jackal, “I’m going.”
George and Leslie’s mouth opened at the same time as he elbowed into the door with Kurt following directly behind him…
Isis was the first to say it. “Like a movie indeed.”
Bruce laughed. It was the only thing he could think of doing.
The hallway outside the courtroom was a study in destruction. Two smoking gunshots hissed from the door opposite the anti-chamber where they’d been asked to deliberate. A court officer lay back, blood oozing from a hole in his chest.
Sally’s penguin started to whimper. The cheetah snarled, the dog’s tails twitching. His daemon-whatever it had been-was gone. A smoking reminder of who he’d been gone to dust and glory.
There was a noise. Everyone braced as something came stumbling out of the room across from them. Something large and white faded in and out of reality as The Defense attorney dropped to her knees.
“Get out of the way.”
Roger moved to help her, his elkhound going for the swan. Leslie nodded mutely, shoving George and Miranda out of his way as he reached for the creature, “I did a tour in med-school.”
“Really?”
Sally sniffled, “…He died…”
“She’s almost dead.” Leslie snapped, “Sal, get her something to wrap that wound in.” she knelt, hand on the woman’s shoulder, “Who did this to you?”
The attorney shook her head.
“…Maggie!”
Twelve heads looked up as the Assistant District Attorney appeared at the end of the hallway. The police straightened beside him, their dog daemons looking to the jurors and shooting them dirty looks, “Get back-Get back-“
“Maggie, Jesus-“ The man put a hand on her shoulder, “…Maggie?”
“He did it.”
“…Who? Who did?”
“…Sir!”
The cop’s name was Samson, a bear of a man with huge hairy hands and a face covered with a bushy mustache. His St. Bernard dwarfed Marley, originally the biggest dog in the room, “…Corporal Richardson’s gone.”
Isis couldn’t resist a snap even then, held securely in Bruce’s arms-not seeming to mind how much he was trembling, “…So much for a chance for reason.”
The Defense Attorney laughed, a loud noise that made everyone jump. It sounded almost like a gunshot.