[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

[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.

[cyphered]

Saw a lot of talk of government. Social order. Assault. Law systems that aren't in place. Throwing people out the airlock.

[He makes a face when he says that last thing. He gestures backward.]

And now I got a handful of people who were involved.

[hyanaimne]

[she can't help but roll her eyes at the airlock comment]

The short of it is, there were a number of us who were not happy with how things were going around here. And while there have been talks and the like, nothing has been done thus far to give us more control over what we are doing here. And since Exsilium had been bombed, it has been building . . . and so it was decided that a protest was in order. We took over the transporter room, the power, and the network and made announcements about what we were doing and why we were doing it.

The talk of assault and airlocks is because people were not happy with us - we made it a point to say that it was a non-violent protest. [she sombers a little] Unfortunately, there were people hurt - someone by my hand, accidentally, and two on our side. That I know of, at least. The talk of social order and government is because of what we did - even though we were locked up for two weeks, there is no law in place that gave them that right. So.

[cyphered]

[Nate's frown creases the longer on in the story she goes. What the heck were Charlie and Chloe doing to get mixed up in business like that? Especially Chloe. Maybe it was the bombs. Nobody ever took kindly to having their lives threatened over things they didn't care about.

He's not going to spend too much time trying to make sense of their involvement, though. He's got enough on his mind.]

Sounds like a good-intentioned mess that ended in a whole lotta nothing. Unless those Initiative guys actually threw you a bone recently, but I didn't see anything about that if they did.

[hyanaimne]

I cannot say if they did or do anything . . . they were our hostages, but none of them were harmed in anyway - inconvenienced at the most. But I doubt this - [she gestures to the group, to them - the whole parolee and parole officer business] would have come about if they were not in agreement with it.

[cyphered]

[He nods slowly with approval and the grin comes back. His hands slide back into the pockets of the jacket.]

Well, happy ending is the important part, right? I'm sure they won't forget about it.

[hyanaimne]

No one will, hopefully. [she pauses, then adds, with a touch of humor] The wanting us dead, though - that everyone else can forget.

[cyphered]

[That makes him scoff.]

Sorry, in my experience, that's never how it works out. If anything, time just makes them want you dead more.

[hyanaimne]

[she mutters]

They can certainly try.

[cyphered]

[He almost punches her shoulder, but then remembers that they just met.]

That's the spirit.

[hyanaimne]

[she glances up at him, a bit surprised, then grins]

I suppose. They are certainly not the first.

[cyphered]

Oh really? You like to pick fights, or the other way around?

[hyanaimne]

The other way around. [the grin widens] It is rare, for women to be in my line of work. So the men like to pick fights.