It feels like it takes a century to get through booking - mug shot, fingerprints, processing -- but Auryn's not stupid enough not to comply once he's in there. He speaks to processing quietly and calmly, neutralizes his accent, lets it come out on "sirs" and "ma'ams" and smiles deferentially at the admins. Eventually he's released with a signed agreement to show up in court.
He hates police departments. The whole, poisoned system of privilege they maintain in every shuffle of paperwork, but also the fluorescent lights and the pretentious wall hangings.
He gets his belongings back -- except a poison ring he was wearing, and his knife, both of which they hold for some kind of evidence in the hearing, and both of which are entirely mundane; it pisses him off -- and heads out the door. He could kill someone for a cigarette, and he's grateful to see those, at least, weren't taken off him.
He's lighting one when he sees the young man from earlier sitting on the bench out front, watching. With coffee, and Auryn lets that all percolate, regarding him and the way his energy bends the air. Lets himself be drawn off course.
no subject
He hates police departments. The whole, poisoned system of privilege they maintain in every shuffle of paperwork, but also the fluorescent lights and the pretentious wall hangings.
He gets his belongings back -- except a poison ring he was wearing, and his knife, both of which they hold for some kind of evidence in the hearing, and both of which are entirely mundane; it pisses him off -- and heads out the door. He could kill someone for a cigarette, and he's grateful to see those, at least, weren't taken off him.
He's lighting one when he sees the young man from earlier sitting on the bench out front, watching. With coffee, and Auryn lets that all percolate, regarding him and the way his energy bends the air. Lets himself be drawn off course.
"That's a lot of coffee you've got there."