Charlie Cutter (
alittlesweptup) wrote in
exsiliumlogs2013-12-07 01:44 pm
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[closed] I'm not in the swing of things
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.]
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.]
ota
Aside from that she's staying very quiet, alert and in the background and watching everything in an attempt to make sure that everything goes smoothly.
With any luck, this will be the last of any official dealings she has with them until the parole is lifted entirely. In the meantime, though, she's there to make sure all questions that need answering are answered. ]
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ota
So long as no one shanks him in the corridor (because frankly he doesn't think for a second that Nate really provides much in the way of protection - not against the kind of people here) and he doesn't think too hard on the flimsy cardboard cutout that passes for the 'progress' they've made over the last three weeks-- well, things could be worse.
Not that he's gives much more than a passing effort - a cursory glance - to finding Nate in the slightly crowded corridor (sorry buddy). He's got other people on his mind.]
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after your making outs ew no one wants to see that
rude tempest mom and dad need their alone time
get a room mom
nope
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but i love your typos
cries about them
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ota
She can feel her knife, now hidden in her sleeve rather than in her boot, resting against her arm; just in case, really, she has no idea what might happen and she'd rather not be caught off-guard. Her eyes track people who pass by, and every so often wander to the people pairing up, but she doesn't move otherwise. She'll wait until most everyone has left to leave herself]
i heard you wanted cr
i do i do i dooooooo
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GOMEN.....SOMETIMES I TYPE FASTER THAN I THINK
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...
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...
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approach with caution!!
Now would be perfect. She could run out there and tackle the first sorry sod in her path and snap their neck to make it quick. Nobody would even notice. She could take her time with all the others after the first blood. She wouldn't even need her axes, just her hands, pinching the soft vulnerable pulsing veins between her nails--
Make it stop. The words don't reach her lips, and the elf becomes vaguely aware of a sliver of ichor-blood snaking its way down from her scalp where her own nails dig. It does nothing to slake her thirst, nor the tight squeezing in her chest that threatens to pull a wheeze from her.
It hurts. Everything hurts in a way she hasn't experienced in years. Seviilia takes a slow breath that exhales hard in a cloud of frost to try and clear her mind, though it appears most of her efforts have ended in failure.]
this is your fault
i accept blame
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Sev n o
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ota
At least he's got Mike as his guard. If that guy could protect Gus against a whole cartel, he won't let anything happen to Jesse here.
Jesse doesn't linger in his cell long once he's given the okay to go. The place is still a mess and he doesn't intend to clean it, either. Jesse himself is a mess, which takes priority. He badly needs a shower and a shave and new clothes and three weeks of good sleep. Once he's out in the hall, he walks briskly with his head down to avoid attention, but he's not so fast that he couldn't be caught.]
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ota
There's no relief in her yet, just the quiet caged look of an animal wary of the concept of freedom. It doesn't seem entirely real yet. Two weeks shouldn't have been enough to push her down this badly, but the facts remain. She's not flinching at anything, but it's only because she's staying stone still. ]
NOT HERE (except totally here because y'know)
what a dick man
open open open
She's been given the names of those who are to keep an eye on her—Wes Mitchell and Sakura Ogami, both unfamiliar. They're fools or mad if they think she's going to make it easy on them, but she'll play along for now.
Of course, playing along would go smoother if she weren't glaring at everything around her right now.]
crashes in here!!
aw yeah
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[a bit late but totally open]
So she's mostly just fiddling around with her tablet - pretending to text, even though she doesn't really have anyone to text.]
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OTA
He hadn't signed up for this. Obviously. Any of it. But just when he started to think he had this thing under control, even a little, the universe went and sprang some new goddamn trap on him. Nathan Drake, scrawny, smart mouthed kid that he was showing up nearly Sully's age and out of the blue was more than he counted on. He didn't know this guy. At all. He'd known Nate for a few months now, liked him, taught him what he could and tried to keep him from getting his face blown off. But Nate had known him for, hell, nearly twenty years? Longer than Sully'd ever stuck around anyone before. The knowledge of that was suffocating. It was enough to make him want to turn tail and run, but he hadn't even had the sense to do that.
Well, he'd get it sorted. At least he had some time to avoid the issue, with another goddamn responsibility that he probably shouldn't have signed up for.
He made his way to the center of the room, where his height would make him easy enough to find, trusted Bond would spot him before too long. And that he wouldn't go running off on him because, hell, last thing he needed was a slap on the wrist from the local PD because he couldn't keep double-oh-seven in check.]
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