#Mr Grote began the practice

[travelingbalkan]

Mr Grote began the practice

About forty years ago, Mr. Grote began the practice of re-setting the old Greek names; but his spelling has not commended itself to the world. There seems much to be said for Themistokles and Kleon; but when we were asked to write Korkyra and Krcte, we felt that the filiation of Corcyra and Crete with Latin and the modern tongues was needlessly disturbed. Kirke, Kilikia, Perdikkas, Katana, seemed rather harsh and too subversive. And if Sophokles and Sokrates are right, why AZscJiylus and JEneas, in lieu of Aiscmlos and Aineias?

Besides, on what ground stop short at a k, leaving the vowels to a Latin corruption? The modern Greeks call the author of the Iliad—Omeros; and the victor of Marathon—- Mcelteeadthes; and it is highly probable that this is far nearer the true pronunciation than are our Homer and Miltiades. To be consistent, we shall have to talk of A ias, Odusseus, Purrhos, Lukourgos, Thonkudides, Oidipous, Ais- chnlos, and Kirke, wantonly interrupting the whole Greco- Roman filiation. And, whilst we plunge orthography into a hopeless welter, we shall stray even farther from the true ancient pronunciation. In the result, English literature has rejected the change with an instinctive sense that it would involve us in quicksands; and would to no sufficient purpose break the long tradition which bound Greece with Rome, and both with European literary customs.

Mr. Carlyle would have all true men speak of Friedrich and Otto; of the Kurfiirst of Koln; of Trier, Prag, Regensburg, and Schlesien. But then he is quite willing to speak like any common person about Mahomet and the Koran, of Clovis and Lothar, of a Duke of Brunswick, and of Charles Amadeus of Savoy; he Anglicises Marseille, Preussen, Oesterreich, and Sachsen; nay, he actually talks about ‘ Charlemagne ’ at ‘ Aix-la-Chapelle.’ Tradition and English literature are in fact too strong for him, except where he wishes to be particularly affectionate or unusually impressive sightseeing turkey. I venture to think that Frederick and Cologne are names so deeply embedded in our English speech that there is nothing affectionate or impressive in the effort to uproot them by foreign words which the mass of Englishmen cannot pronounce. It is ridiculous to write, ‘ The Kurfiirst of Ko In.’ It should be, ‘ Dcr Kurfiirst von Kohi’ But, then, we had better write in German at once.

Old English

Of all the historical schools, that of the Old English has been the most revolutionary in its methods, and the most exacting in its demands. It began by condemning ‘ Charlemagne ’ and the ‘ Anglo-Saxons ’; and now to use either of these familiar old names is to be guilty of something which is almost a vulgarism, if not an impertinence. We have all learned to speak of Karl and the Old English. One by one, the familiar names of English history, the names that recur in every family, were recast into something grotesque in look and often very hard indeed to pronounce. Ecgberkt, Cnnt, or Knud, the Hwiccas, Allfth- rytli, Hrofesceaster, and Cant-wara-byryg had rather a queer look. Chlotachar, Ohio do wig, Hrot land, were not pleasing. But when we are asked to give up Alfred’, Edward, and Edgar, and to speak of Allfred, Eadweard, and Eadgar, we began to reflect and to hark back.

Alfred, Edward, and Edgar are names which for a thousand years have filled English homes, and English poetry and prose. To rewrite those names is to break the tradition of history and literature at once. It is no doubt true that the contemporaries of these kings before the conquest did, when writing in the vernacular, spell their names with the double vowels we are now invited to restore. But is that a sufficient reason? We are not talking their dialect, nor do we use their spelling. We write in modern English, not in old English; the places they knew, the titles they held, the words they used, have to be modernised, if we wish to be understood ourselves.

#Mr Grote began the practice

[hutupistravel]

Mr Grote began the practice

About forty years ago, Mr. Grote began the practice of re-setting the old Greek names; but his spelling has not commended itself to the world. There seems much to be said for Themistokles and Kleon; but when we were asked to write Korkyra and Krcte, we felt that the filiation of Corcyra and Crete with Latin and the modern tongues was needlessly disturbed. Kirke, Kilikia, Perdikkas, Katana, seemed rather harsh and too subversive. And if Sophokles and Sokrates are right, why AZscJiylus and JEneas, in lieu of Aiscmlos and Aineias?

Besides, on what ground stop short at a k, leaving the vowels to a Latin corruption? The modern Greeks call the author of the Iliad—Omeros; and the victor of Marathon—- Mcelteeadthes; and it is highly probable that this is far nearer the true pronunciation than are our Homer and Miltiades. To be consistent, we shall have to talk of A ias, Odusseus, Purrhos, Lukourgos, Thonkudides, Oidipous, Ais- chnlos, and Kirke, wantonly interrupting the whole Greco- Roman filiation. And, whilst we plunge orthography into a hopeless welter, we shall stray even farther from the true ancient pronunciation. In the result, English literature has rejected the change with an instinctive sense that it would involve us in quicksands; and would to no sufficient purpose break the long tradition which bound Greece with Rome, and both with European literary customs.

Mr. Carlyle would have all true men speak of Friedrich and Otto; of the Kurfiirst of Koln; of Trier, Prag, Regensburg, and Schlesien. But then he is quite willing to speak like any common person about Mahomet and the Koran, of Clovis and Lothar, of a Duke of Brunswick, and of Charles Amadeus of Savoy; he Anglicises Marseille, Preussen, Oesterreich, and Sachsen; nay, he actually talks about ‘ Charlemagne ’ at ‘ Aix-la-Chapelle.’ Tradition and English literature are in fact too strong for him, except where he wishes to be particularly affectionate or unusually impressive sightseeing turkey. I venture to think that Frederick and Cologne are names so deeply embedded in our English speech that there is nothing affectionate or impressive in the effort to uproot them by foreign words which the mass of Englishmen cannot pronounce. It is ridiculous to write, ‘ The Kurfiirst of Ko In.’ It should be, ‘ Dcr Kurfiirst von Kohi’ But, then, we had better write in German at once.

Old English

Of all the historical schools, that of the Old English has been the most revolutionary in its methods, and the most exacting in its demands. It began by condemning ‘ Charlemagne ’ and the ‘ Anglo-Saxons ’; and now to use either of these familiar old names is to be guilty of something which is almost a vulgarism, if not an impertinence. We have all learned to speak of Karl and the Old English. One by one, the familiar names of English history, the names that recur in every family, were recast into something grotesque in look and often very hard indeed to pronounce. Ecgberkt, Cnnt, or Knud, the Hwiccas, Allfth- rytli, Hrofesceaster, and Cant-wara-byryg had rather a queer look. Chlotachar, Ohio do wig, Hrot land, were not pleasing. But when we are asked to give up Alfred’, Edward, and Edgar, and to speak of Allfred, Eadweard, and Eadgar, we began to reflect and to hark back.

Alfred, Edward, and Edgar are names which for a thousand years have filled English homes, and English poetry and prose. To rewrite those names is to break the tradition of history and literature at once. It is no doubt true that the contemporaries of these kings before the conquest did, when writing in the vernacular, spell their names with the double vowels we are now invited to restore. But is that a sufficient reason? We are not talking their dialect, nor do we use their spelling. We write in modern English, not in old English; the places they knew, the titles they held, the words they used, have to be modernised, if we wish to be understood ourselves.

#Mr Grote began the practice

[holidaysbalkan]

Mr Grote began the practice

About forty years ago, Mr. Grote began the practice of re-setting the old Greek names; but his spelling has not commended itself to the world. There seems much to be said for Themistokles and Kleon; but when we were asked to write Korkyra and Krcte, we felt that the filiation of Corcyra and Crete with Latin and the modern tongues was needlessly disturbed. Kirke, Kilikia, Perdikkas, Katana, seemed rather harsh and too subversive. And if Sophokles and Sokrates are right, why AZscJiylus and JEneas, in lieu of Aiscmlos and Aineias?

Besides, on what ground stop short at a k, leaving the vowels to a Latin corruption? The modern Greeks call the author of the Iliad—Omeros; and the victor of Marathon—- Mcelteeadthes; and it is highly probable that this is far nearer the true pronunciation than are our Homer and Miltiades. To be consistent, we shall have to talk of A ias, Odusseus, Purrhos, Lukourgos, Thonkudides, Oidipous, Ais- chnlos, and Kirke, wantonly interrupting the whole Greco- Roman filiation. And, whilst we plunge orthography into a hopeless welter, we shall stray even farther from the true ancient pronunciation. In the result, English literature has rejected the change with an instinctive sense that it would involve us in quicksands; and would to no sufficient purpose break the long tradition which bound Greece with Rome, and both with European literary customs.

Mr. Carlyle would have all true men speak of Friedrich and Otto; of the Kurfiirst of Koln; of Trier, Prag, Regensburg, and Schlesien. But then he is quite willing to speak like any common person about Mahomet and the Koran, of Clovis and Lothar, of a Duke of Brunswick, and of Charles Amadeus of Savoy; he Anglicises Marseille, Preussen, Oesterreich, and Sachsen; nay, he actually talks about ‘ Charlemagne ’ at ‘ Aix-la-Chapelle.’ Tradition and English literature are in fact too strong for him, except where he wishes to be particularly affectionate or unusually impressive sightseeing turkey. I venture to think that Frederick and Cologne are names so deeply embedded in our English speech that there is nothing affectionate or impressive in the effort to uproot them by foreign words which the mass of Englishmen cannot pronounce. It is ridiculous to write, ‘ The Kurfiirst of Ko In.’ It should be, ‘ Dcr Kurfiirst von Kohi’ But, then, we had better write in German at once.

Old English

Of all the historical schools, that of the Old English has been the most revolutionary in its methods, and the most exacting in its demands. It began by condemning ‘ Charlemagne ’ and the ‘ Anglo-Saxons ’; and now to use either of these familiar old names is to be guilty of something which is almost a vulgarism, if not an impertinence. We have all learned to speak of Karl and the Old English. One by one, the familiar names of English history, the names that recur in every family, were recast into something grotesque in look and often very hard indeed to pronounce. Ecgberkt, Cnnt, or Knud, the Hwiccas, Allfth- rytli, Hrofesceaster, and Cant-wara-byryg had rather a queer look. Chlotachar, Ohio do wig, Hrot land, were not pleasing. But when we are asked to give up Alfred’, Edward, and Edgar, and to speak of Allfred, Eadweard, and Eadgar, we began to reflect and to hark back.

Alfred, Edward, and Edgar are names which for a thousand years have filled English homes, and English poetry and prose. To rewrite those names is to break the tradition of history and literature at once. It is no doubt true that the contemporaries of these kings before the conquest did, when writing in the vernacular, spell their names with the double vowels we are now invited to restore. But is that a sufficient reason? We are not talking their dialect, nor do we use their spelling. We write in modern English, not in old English; the places they knew, the titles they held, the words they used, have to be modernised, if we wish to be understood ourselves.

#Mr Grote began the practice

[bookinghotelsbg]

Mr Grote began the practice

About forty years ago, Mr. Grote began the practice of re-setting the old Greek names; but his spelling has not commended itself to the world. There seems much to be said for Themistokles and Kleon; but when we were asked to write Korkyra and Krcte, we felt that the filiation of Corcyra and Crete with Latin and the modern tongues was needlessly disturbed. Kirke, Kilikia, Perdikkas, Katana, seemed rather harsh and too subversive. And if Sophokles and Sokrates are right, why AZscJiylus and JEneas, in lieu of Aiscmlos and Aineias?

Besides, on what ground stop short at a k, leaving the vowels to a Latin corruption? The modern Greeks call the author of the Iliad—Omeros; and the victor of Marathon—- Mcelteeadthes; and it is highly probable that this is far nearer the true pronunciation than are our Homer and Miltiades. To be consistent, we shall have to talk of A ias, Odusseus, Purrhos, Lukourgos, Thonkudides, Oidipous, Ais- chnlos, and Kirke, wantonly interrupting the whole Greco- Roman filiation. And, whilst we plunge orthography into a hopeless welter, we shall stray even farther from the true ancient pronunciation. In the result, English literature has rejected the change with an instinctive sense that it would involve us in quicksands; and would to no sufficient purpose break the long tradition which bound Greece with Rome, and both with European literary customs.

Mr. Carlyle would have all true men speak of Friedrich and Otto; of the Kurfiirst of Koln; of Trier, Prag, Regensburg, and Schlesien. But then he is quite willing to speak like any common person about Mahomet and the Koran, of Clovis and Lothar, of a Duke of Brunswick, and of Charles Amadeus of Savoy; he Anglicises Marseille, Preussen, Oesterreich, and Sachsen; nay, he actually talks about ‘ Charlemagne ’ at ‘ Aix-la-Chapelle.’ Tradition and English literature are in fact too strong for him, except where he wishes to be particularly affectionate or unusually impressive sightseeing turkey. I venture to think that Frederick and Cologne are names so deeply embedded in our English speech that there is nothing affectionate or impressive in the effort to uproot them by foreign words which the mass of Englishmen cannot pronounce. It is ridiculous to write, ‘ The Kurfiirst of Ko In.’ It should be, ‘ Dcr Kurfiirst von Kohi’ But, then, we had better write in German at once.

Old English

Of all the historical schools, that of the Old English has been the most revolutionary in its methods, and the most exacting in its demands. It began by condemning ‘ Charlemagne ’ and the ‘ Anglo-Saxons ’; and now to use either of these familiar old names is to be guilty of something which is almost a vulgarism, if not an impertinence. We have all learned to speak of Karl and the Old English. One by one, the familiar names of English history, the names that recur in every family, were recast into something grotesque in look and often very hard indeed to pronounce. Ecgberkt, Cnnt, or Knud, the Hwiccas, Allfth- rytli, Hrofesceaster, and Cant-wara-byryg had rather a queer look. Chlotachar, Ohio do wig, Hrot land, were not pleasing. But when we are asked to give up Alfred’, Edward, and Edgar, and to speak of Allfred, Eadweard, and Eadgar, we began to reflect and to hark back.

Alfred, Edward, and Edgar are names which for a thousand years have filled English homes, and English poetry and prose. To rewrite those names is to break the tradition of history and literature at once. It is no doubt true that the contemporaries of these kings before the conquest did, when writing in the vernacular, spell their names with the double vowels we are now invited to restore. But is that a sufficient reason? We are not talking their dialect, nor do we use their spelling. We write in modern English, not in old English; the places they knew, the titles they held, the words they used, have to be modernised, if we wish to be understood ourselves.

#Mr Grote began the practice

[bookingoneway]

Mr Grote began the practice

About forty years ago, Mr. Grote began the practice of re-setting the old Greek names; but his spelling has not commended itself to the world. There seems much to be said for Themistokles and Kleon; but when we were asked to write Korkyra and Krcte, we felt that the filiation of Corcyra and Crete with Latin and the modern tongues was needlessly disturbed. Kirke, Kilikia, Perdikkas, Katana, seemed rather harsh and too subversive. And if Sophokles and Sokrates are right, why AZscJiylus and JEneas, in lieu of Aiscmlos and Aineias?

Besides, on what ground stop short at a k, leaving the vowels to a Latin corruption? The modern Greeks call the author of the Iliad—Omeros; and the victor of Marathon—- Mcelteeadthes; and it is highly probable that this is far nearer the true pronunciation than are our Homer and Miltiades. To be consistent, we shall have to talk of A ias, Odusseus, Purrhos, Lukourgos, Thonkudides, Oidipous, Ais- chnlos, and Kirke, wantonly interrupting the whole Greco- Roman filiation. And, whilst we plunge orthography into a hopeless welter, we shall stray even farther from the true ancient pronunciation. In the result, English literature has rejected the change with an instinctive sense that it would involve us in quicksands; and would to no sufficient purpose break the long tradition which bound Greece with Rome, and both with European literary customs.

Mr. Carlyle would have all true men speak of Friedrich and Otto; of the Kurfiirst of Koln; of Trier, Prag, Regensburg, and Schlesien. But then he is quite willing to speak like any common person about Mahomet and the Koran, of Clovis and Lothar, of a Duke of Brunswick, and of Charles Amadeus of Savoy; he Anglicises Marseille, Preussen, Oesterreich, and Sachsen; nay, he actually talks about ‘ Charlemagne ’ at ‘ Aix-la-Chapelle.’ Tradition and English literature are in fact too strong for him, except where he wishes to be particularly affectionate or unusually impressive sightseeing turkey. I venture to think that Frederick and Cologne are names so deeply embedded in our English speech that there is nothing affectionate or impressive in the effort to uproot them by foreign words which the mass of Englishmen cannot pronounce. It is ridiculous to write, ‘ The Kurfiirst of Ko In.’ It should be, ‘ Dcr Kurfiirst von Kohi’ But, then, we had better write in German at once.

Old English

Of all the historical schools, that of the Old English has been the most revolutionary in its methods, and the most exacting in its demands. It began by condemning ‘ Charlemagne ’ and the ‘ Anglo-Saxons ’; and now to use either of these familiar old names is to be guilty of something which is almost a vulgarism, if not an impertinence. We have all learned to speak of Karl and the Old English. One by one, the familiar names of English history, the names that recur in every family, were recast into something grotesque in look and often very hard indeed to pronounce. Ecgberkt, Cnnt, or Knud, the Hwiccas, Allfth- rytli, Hrofesceaster, and Cant-wara-byryg had rather a queer look. Chlotachar, Ohio do wig, Hrot land, were not pleasing. But when we are asked to give up Alfred’, Edward, and Edgar, and to speak of Allfred, Eadweard, and Eadgar, we began to reflect and to hark back.

Alfred, Edward, and Edgar are names which for a thousand years have filled English homes, and English poetry and prose. To rewrite those names is to break the tradition of history and literature at once. It is no doubt true that the contemporaries of these kings before the conquest did, when writing in the vernacular, spell their names with the double vowels we are now invited to restore. But is that a sufficient reason? We are not talking their dialect, nor do we use their spelling. We write in modern English, not in old English; the places they knew, the titles they held, the words they used, have to be modernised, if we wish to be understood ourselves.

#Mr Grote began the practice

[holidayinbg]

Mr Grote began the practice

About forty years ago, Mr. Grote began the practice of re-setting the old Greek names; but his spelling has not commended itself to the world. There seems much to be said for Themistokles and Kleon; but when we were asked to write Korkyra and Krcte, we felt that the filiation of Corcyra and Crete with Latin and the modern tongues was needlessly disturbed. Kirke, Kilikia, Perdikkas, Katana, seemed rather harsh and too subversive. And if Sophokles and Sokrates are right, why AZscJiylus and JEneas, in lieu of Aiscmlos and Aineias?

Besides, on what ground stop short at a k, leaving the vowels to a Latin corruption? The modern Greeks call the author of the Iliad—Omeros; and the victor of Marathon—- Mcelteeadthes; and it is highly probable that this is far nearer the true pronunciation than are our Homer and Miltiades. To be consistent, we shall have to talk of A ias, Odusseus, Purrhos, Lukourgos, Thonkudides, Oidipous, Ais- chnlos, and Kirke, wantonly interrupting the whole Greco- Roman filiation. And, whilst we plunge orthography into a hopeless welter, we shall stray even farther from the true ancient pronunciation. In the result, English literature has rejected the change with an instinctive sense that it would involve us in quicksands; and would to no sufficient purpose break the long tradition which bound Greece with Rome, and both with European literary customs.

Mr. Carlyle would have all true men speak of Friedrich and Otto; of the Kurfiirst of Koln; of Trier, Prag, Regensburg, and Schlesien. But then he is quite willing to speak like any common person about Mahomet and the Koran, of Clovis and Lothar, of a Duke of Brunswick, and of Charles Amadeus of Savoy; he Anglicises Marseille, Preussen, Oesterreich, and Sachsen; nay, he actually talks about ‘ Charlemagne ’ at ‘ Aix-la-Chapelle.’ Tradition and English literature are in fact too strong for him, except where he wishes to be particularly affectionate or unusually impressive sightseeing turkey. I venture to think that Frederick and Cologne are names so deeply embedded in our English speech that there is nothing affectionate or impressive in the effort to uproot them by foreign words which the mass of Englishmen cannot pronounce. It is ridiculous to write, ‘ The Kurfiirst of Ko In.’ It should be, ‘ Dcr Kurfiirst von Kohi’ But, then, we had better write in German at once.

Old English

Of all the historical schools, that of the Old English has been the most revolutionary in its methods, and the most exacting in its demands. It began by condemning ‘ Charlemagne ’ and the ‘ Anglo-Saxons ’; and now to use either of these familiar old names is to be guilty of something which is almost a vulgarism, if not an impertinence. We have all learned to speak of Karl and the Old English. One by one, the familiar names of English history, the names that recur in every family, were recast into something grotesque in look and often very hard indeed to pronounce. Ecgberkt, Cnnt, or Knud, the Hwiccas, Allfth- rytli, Hrofesceaster, and Cant-wara-byryg had rather a queer look. Chlotachar, Ohio do wig, Hrot land, were not pleasing. But when we are asked to give up Alfred’, Edward, and Edgar, and to speak of Allfred, Eadweard, and Eadgar, we began to reflect and to hark back.

Alfred, Edward, and Edgar are names which for a thousand years have filled English homes, and English poetry and prose. To rewrite those names is to break the tradition of history and literature at once. It is no doubt true that the contemporaries of these kings before the conquest did, when writing in the vernacular, spell their names with the double vowels we are now invited to restore. But is that a sufficient reason? We are not talking their dialect, nor do we use their spelling. We write in modern English, not in old English; the places they knew, the titles they held, the words they used, have to be modernised, if we wish to be understood ourselves.

#Mr Grote began the practice

[rebuildhq]

Conrad Ricamora || Franklin Percy ‘Foggy’ Nelson || 34 || CisMale || Hell’s Kitchen, NY || Lawyer || N/A || PLAYED BY TARIN

biography:

Foggy got his nickname early on, figuring that just about anything was better than Franklin. He was born to a family that went into butchery or hardware stores, and despite his mother’s insistence that he follow the path, he set his sights on Columbia University. As luck would have it, his roommate was another strangler from Hell’s Kitchen, the very same blind boy he’d heard about when the accident happened.

Matt and Foggy hit it off instantly, becoming best friends faster than you could say 'avocado.’ They teased each other, especially about girls, joked around a lot, but they always had each other’s backs. When Matt struggled after his college girlfriend left, it was Foggy who put him back together enough to take his exams. They decided to intern together, and landed a sweet deal at Landman and Zack. But the goal was always to open their own defense practice. And thus, Nelson and Murdock was born.

Though it pained him to walk away from the amount of money Landman and Zack offered, Foggy was thrilled to go into business with his best friend. They snagged a corner office, and began to work through their 'professional differences.’ Matt was determined to only represent the innocent, and didn’t believe that anyone not yet convicted of a crime fit that profile, the way Foggy did. But thanks to Foggy bribing a childhood friend and 'rival,’ who was now a cop, they found their first case. One Karen Page. What at first seemed like an unwinnable case actually led to the reveal of a major conspiracy by Union Allied. They brought the company to its knees, and Karen was free to go. She couldn’t exactly pay them, but did even better by coming to work for them. Together, the three of them built a respectable practice, and became thick as thieves. Foggy liked to refer to them as the Three Musketeers.

Eventually, their pursuit of clientele and their involvement in Union Allied, led Nelson and Murdock to a man named Wilson Fisk. The most notable client during this, for Foggy at least, was Elena Cardenas, who was being forcibly evicted from her apartment complex and who was being forced to live in squalor to convince her to move. Foggy vowed to help her fix up the apartment, in addition to fighting for her in court. Unfortunately, this meant he was there when the bombs went off around her apartment, and he wound up in the hospital recovering from a grave wound.

After that, he discovered Karen’s crusade to take down Wilson Fisk through investigative journalism, and while he was hesitant to get involved, he couldn’t just walk away from her. He promised to help her anyway he could.

All the while, rumors of a man in a black mask were starting to circulate through the Kitchen. Foggy dismissed him as a crazy nut at first, and a terrorist after pictures surfaced of him near the sight of the bombings. When Mrs. Cardenas was found murdered, Foggy knew they had gotten too close to Wilson Fisk and she paid the price. Drunk and upset, he made his way to Matt’s apartment, only to find the very same masked man inside, half bleeding to death.

The reveal that the vigilante was none other than his best friend caused a considerable amount of strain between them. Foggy desperately wanted Matt to stop taking these crazy risks, but Matt wouldn’t be convinced. They had a falling out, a pretty bad one, and Foggy almost quit. But he had still made a promise to Karen and vowed to take down Fisk regardless. Despite all odds, the death of several people, they managed to find enough evidence to put Fisk in jail. Though he briefly escaped, he was recaptured thanks to the efforts of Daredevil – and their friendship was rebuilt and renewed.

After that, things happened quickly. Nelson and Murdock’s clientele grew exponentially, but their bank accounts did not. They were struggling to keep the lights on, largely representing those who couldn’t afford legal help any other way. They ate well, had plenty of bananas, and just enough to get a few drinks at their favorite local bar, Josie’s. It was here they were approached by Elliot Grote, aka Grotto, who asked for their help and offered to pay.

Grotto was the sole survivor of one of several recent massacres that had struck the Kitchen. Eventually it would come to light that a single man was behind these. Foggy struggled with defending their client, protecting him from the killer, and keeping Matt’s identity a secret, as his best friend threw himself directly into the line of fire. On one occasion, Foggy found Matt bleeding and barely conscious, and had to drag him back to his apartment. He once again begged his friend to stop this, but Matt refused.

Eventually, after many trials, tribulations, and way too many bodies for Foggy’s comfort, Frank Castle, aka the Punisher, was caught and arrested for the massacres. Surprisingly, Nelson and Murdock wound up defending him, largely at the behest of Karen. Foggy wasn’t thrilled about defending an obviously guilty, and more importantly, remorseless man, especially as Matt’s focus on their firm had been spotty due to his nightly activities. But when the time came for opening statements, Foggy stepped up and delivered in a big way in the absence of his partner. Things grew more and more strained between the three of them, but for a moment, it almost seemed like they’d win the case – until Frank’s outburst in court.

Foggy blamed Matt for the loss, though in front of Karen, he couldn’t say why. In a fit of anger, he shouted that he was glad they lost and stormed off. The next day, Foggy came to Matt’s apartment. He suggested closing down their firm, which was in ruins because of the bad press associated with the Castle case. Matt agreed. Foggy tried one more time to convince him to stop his vigilantism, but Matt was more stubborn than ever. Foggy walked away, and found himself a new job with Hogarth, Chao, and Benowitz.

Foggy’s latest cases with the firm have largely centered around powered individuals. He’s taken great pride in fighting for their rights within the law, and representing them very seriously, though he was a big supporter of the Accords and the Panel. (He was a little embarrassed to find out that it was run by evil aliens -- twice.) But he’s done well for himself, even got a hair cut, but though he remains close to Karen, his friendship with Matt seems all but done. 

He’s generally an easy-going guy, but mostly, he just wants a normal life. He wants to feel safe, to help people, but he also wants to leave a lot of the craziness in his past behind him. He took his fresh start and ran with it, and now he works more than ever, but at least he’s got a decent corner office to show for it this time. Now he’s just hoping that the crazy new President doesn’t mess with that. 

#conrad ricamora #foggy nelson #franklin nelson #rebuildunregistered #rebuildbio