[closed] I'm not in the swing of things

[alittlesweptup]

Date & Time: 12/7, morning
Location: West Wing housing corridor
Characters: Detainees and their assigned babysitters
Summary: The mutineers (+1 Jesse Pinkman) are released and given into the custody of their respective parole officers.
Warning: ~*~FEELINGSSSSSSS~*~ (daddy issues) and probably some foul language because when is that not a thing.
Notes: Catch-all for cr building if you care to use it, though don't feel obligated to tag here if you'd prefer to do things differently. If you haven't been assigned a parole officer or vice versa yet, no worries - back tagging into infinity will probably be a thing. (Additional Note: I personally fully endorse shameless threadjacking fwiw)


[The morning of the seventh, three weeks from the start of the mutiny and nearly as long since the beginning of most of the detainee's stint in police custody, finds them being officially released into the hands of their willing parole officers. There's no real paperwork, no moment where anyone gets their handcuffs taken off. Confiscated personal belongings are returned, but that's about the extent of anything resembling police formality; everything else probably seems strangely abbreviated (and maybe more than a little anticlimactic) for anyone familiar with how this sort of thing usually goes.]

Comments

[hyanaimne]

I am not surprised. From what I understand, my world is from a time before your medieval time. Before or around, I can't quite place it.

[cyphered]

I'm still trying to wrap my head around being in space, but yeah. I get it.

[hyanaimne]

Oh, dear. [she doesn't normally do this, but the lighthearted conversation is a big help. And well, sometimes she's an asshole]

If you are still getting used to that, then I will keep my hood up. Unless you have run into other manners of creature here.

[cyphered]

Well, let me think. I've met an elf. A talking dog. And we're on the moon. What else can you throw at me?

[He gives her a once-over and squints when he reaches her head, trying to figure out what he's missing. Are--her ears pointed too?]

[hyanaimne]

[awww, well that ruins her fun. She can't help but laugh, though, and reaches up to push her hood back. Yep, pointed ears]

Nothing new, I'm afraid.

[cyphered]

[Typical. At least she was nicer than Adra.]

Pffffft. Big whoop.

[He makes a waving motion like its no big deal, but in reality, he's starting to wonder again if he's hallucinating.]

You've got a much better sense of humor than the first one I saw.

[hyanaimne]

[sorry Nate, you're not hallucinating. She grins and pulls her hood back up]

To be fair, I am only half. But mm, some of them have no sense of humor at all. [be nice, Tempest]

[cyphered]

If we're playing the fairness card, I think we had a better start. He's the poor guy who happened to find me when I got here.

[He shifts on the wall.]

[hyanaimne]

Ah . . . not a good arrival, I take it?

[cyphered]

Could've been better.

[He's not gonna talk about the fact that he was dying -- that's easy enough to play off, even if he's not the best liar.]

But this isn't really a normal thing where I'm from.

[hyanaimne]

[oh, how she can sympathize. She'd just died when she was suddenly here, alive and well; she'd been utterly pissed that her death had been taken away from her]

The same for me, really . . . and most people, I would assume. It takes some getting used to. [she won't tell Nate that she's been here since July and she still isn't used to it]

[cyphered]

I don't know about that. Seemed like a walk in the park for some of the people that got dragged here with me.

[He's actually quite glad to not be dead.]

[hyanaimne]

Truly? How strange . . . [she thinks about that for a moment, then tilts her head] But it is not a walk in the park for all, at least. So you are not the only one who is a little overwhelmed.

[cyphered]

Thank Christ for that, huh?

[He has a lot of other contributing factors.]

I'm not keeping you, am I?

[hyanaimne]

[she shakes her head, resting her head back against the wall - more so she can look up at him than any other reason]

Not at all, dear.

[cyphered]

Good.

[He takes a second to glance around before looking at Tempest a little more seriously. He had tried to ask Charlie a little more about what exactly had happened to lock them all up and hadn't gotten anywhere. The network had offered some insight, but not the sort he was looking for.]

You guys all look like hell, by the way. No offense.

[hyanaimne]

[she frowns at that, but she isn't offended. She honestly has no idea what she looks like, but it can't be good, especially since she spent nearly the first week sick from magic. She shrugs a shoulder, though, and sighs out, slow]

We have been in here for two weeks.

[cyphered]

Well, better than two months, I guess.

[Drake isnt great at looking sympathetic, but he tries. Being a roamer himself (and seeing the inside of a jail cell more than once), he knows lockdown is the opposite of a good time.

He taps his tablet.]

They were calling a mutiny.

[hyanaimne]

[if he's anything like Chloe or Charlie, he doesn't have to look sympathetic; at the very least, she knows them well enough to know that Nate wouldn't like it either.

She snorts, though, and shrugs a shoulder]

Well, that is what it was. Did no one give you details?

[cyphered]

[That makes him grin -- no teeth, but a mild, knowing smirk.]

Well, I did some searching. I like hearing it from the source.

[So no, they didn't.]

[hyanaimne]

[she grins back, then shakes her head, heaving a dramatic sigh]

I'm surprised, Charlie has been quite vocal - Chloe, too. Perhaps they do not want you to know.

[cyphered]

Charlie's tired of talking about it.

[And...well, we're just not gonna even acknowledge Chloe. Charlie didn't explicitly say so when he talked to him, but he could tell after being in the room with him for a bit.

He imagined Chloe wasn't much better off, even if she wanted to talk to him.]

[hyanaimne]

Charlie, tired of talking? My.

[it's light, mild teasing, because she doesn't anything to get too serious. She's had it with everything being serious the last few days.

She takes a look around, then inclines her head down the hall]

Shall we take a walk?

[cyphered]

Tell me about it. Talk about kickin' a man while they're down.

[Nate glances backward to make sure he doesn't spot Charlie first before looking back to Tempest and giving her a small nod, crossing the doorframe to fall in step beside her.]

[hyanaimne]

That does not seem right. I will have to ask him something incredibly ridiculous to fix that. [she shoots Nate a brief grin]

[she doesn't go too far; the last thing she needs is to get in trouble for taking off when she hasn't yet checked in with her parole officer. Down the hallway seems far enough; just enough distance between them and the rest of them to make it look as though she doesn't feel like talking over the din of the small group still milling around.

She leans against the wall and blows out a breath]

So, what do you know? Detail-wise.