vengeance, a badge and a gun

[do_what_thou_wilt]

It's been a long day and it sits, restless, in Auryn's blood, waiting for a spark to set it off. It's raining, again; barely scraping 60 for however many days in a row. The asphalt's complaining about the late thaw and so are Auryn's neck and shoulders, reminding him that he was once a southern boy and he's at weird angles all day working on cars.

(Lately, it seems, Auryn can't even just shut up and get his work done. He's glad enough he hasn't been fired, after his and Davin's confrontation in Quill. He's happy not to make small talk -- he's usually taciturn and focused and he prefers it that way. But today he found himself explaining that yes, he does, actually, understand what "the only one who touches my car" means, and no, he doesn't know who the man with the sports car is, but Davin isn't available and he can schedule an appointment or Auryn can do the work himself right now. He'd gotten the keys, eventually, along with a death threat if there's so much as a rearview adjustment out of place.)

It's a good couple miles back to his little house in the woods, and he's tired and grumpy when he gets back there. It only darkens when he sees, just shy of his usual turn into the road, a tree splintered at the base and fallen across his path, accompanied by thick gouges in the mud, now filled with water, where a Jeep or maybe an ATV made a poor decision about where to infiltrate.

He takes a step into the flooded path to reach the tree, still hanging on on one side, and just crouches with his hand on it for a moment. There's nothing he can do, though: the damage has been done. All of a sudden he's just angry, angry at his own ineffectiveness and passivity, angry at other people and their arrogance, angry at how alone he feels in a place that was supposed to be some Holy Grail of witch communities. He balls up the fury painfully and pushes it out, lifting the tree and the water up out of the tracks to hover and throwing it all with force with a frustrated shout, coming down with a hard thud and bouncing a few feet away down the empty road.

The sudden whine of a siren, makes him freeze. He half turns to see a patrol car slow to a stop across the road. "Siren Cove Police. Stop right where you are,” the officer says as he gets out of the car, hand already on his gun. His partner’s a step behind.

"Hey, let's not do anything stupid --" Auryn says, taking a step and starting to spread his hands out concilatorily, and the officers both pull their weapons immediately. The one in front barks, eyes fixed,
"Hands on your head. Don't move."

Auryn can feel his heart hammering as he stares at two drawn handguns, but all he can manage in response is a cold glare, locking his fingers over his skull and resting them there; it occurs to him late that his hands are probably being considered weapons by the trigger-happy duo. It also occurs to him that in any other circumstance if he were to strike someone who pulled a gun on him it might be considered self defense.

The first of the two grabs him and twists his wrists back behind his back, pushing Auryn against the car. “I know my rights,” he spits at him as the officer cuffs him. “You can't do this."

"You might want to reread your legal codes," the other cop says. "You're in direct violation of Siren Cove law. Open and public display of magic."

"You can't arrest me for that."

"You're not being arrested," the other cop says, patting him down ungently. "You're being detained. But keep up the smart talk and I'm sure we can work something out." He makes a triumphant noise at the long multi-tool knife Auryn has on him, digging it out of his pocket. Auryn tries to twist back toward him, and is rewarded with a hand to the back of his neck, pressing his face against the car. "Keep your eyes and your hands to yourself, boy."

"The problem with this place," the other one says idly, holstering his weapon and digging out his notebook, "is that you witch types think it's some sort of Disneyland. A guy just wants to get some coffee, go to work, feed your family, and instead I spend all day running into freakshows from away who want to re-enact the damn Coombs curse. Come Midsummer it'll be a whole sideshow. Name and address."

"I'm not answering your questions."

"I know who you are, anyway," the other one says. "This is that O'Connor kid," he informs his partner from where he's got his hand against Auryn's back. "Works at the auto shop. Mike was in Quill the other day and heard him as much as admit to brainwashing everyone. I heard he's got some creepy-ass shack up here. Sounds like building without a permit to me, Mr. O'Connor."

"It's Auryn Connor," he growls. "I don't think you'll find much, if you want to go tramping through the woods looking for trumped up charges, be my guest."

"You staying at the motel, then?" The quieter of the two has already run him through the system.
"Yep," he says, tiredly.

"You have two prior unpaid citations for public magic use in Siren Cove and another for trespassing. Ring a bell?"

"If a law is unjust, a man is not only right to disobey it, he is obligated to do so."

"Not in this town." He gestures at the back of the car. "Auryn Connor, you're being arrested for open and public display of magic and destruction of public property, with failure to pay previous civil fines. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say -- and have said -- can and will be used against you. You have the right to appropriate representation..."
His voice fades dully as Auryn lets his head sink against the cruiser. This is not how he had planned his evening.

[OOC: Dated to this evening! Spot Auryn being brought in, be the employee who processes him or talk to him at the police station, run into him after he's released...]

Comments

[milodumas]

The incident with Sarah on the boardwalk is already making Milo reconsider his decision to relocate back to Siren Cove. On the day of his parent's arrest he'd promised he would keep his magic under wraps, that he would never become what they became, that he would never ever use his powers on another witch like that.

But her magic had been on the brink of destroying the fragile control he holds, of blowing everything out of the water and stripping his nerves bare. It was the only thing he could think to do, to reach out and stop it, just for a minute, to absorb the chaos and twist it under his control, the control he's learned to have so tightly wound. He can still feel it humming under his skin, magic that isn't his, and he wonders what it felt like when his parents absorbed the magic and life of two witches, what it must be like to have another person's energy flowing in your veins.

These are the kind of thoughts he promised himself he'd never think. He was supposed to be better than this, but Siren Cove has him in old habits already, and it's with this in mind that he finds himself drawn towards the police station. He's not here to turn himself in. Sarah and Milo can deal with their issues without law enforcement, he hopes, and the last thing he needs is to end up sharing a cell with his parents. But he needs to try and see them, speak to them maybe, find out how they ended up down this path so he can make sure he never follows them.

He sees the cruiser rolling up and his first instinct is to duck his face, and then he remembers he's not a wanted man. The man in the cruiser however, is in exactly that position. Milo can feel the magic, recently used, recently expelled from someone like they were desperate to, and he can't help but try and peer into the car. All thoughts of seeing his parents have vanished; his attention is focused solely on the man being arrested, and he can't tell whether he wants to speak to him or consume him.

[suisen]

Hana supposes that it makes her a traitor the way she's thrown her lot in with the witches less and less with each passing incident. It was witches who'd tried to force her to change herself. It was witches who had been so often disinterested in communicating with her. It was witches who had trapped her in a fairytale and taken her voice and memories without her consent.

How can she stand by that. She's in the waiting room, working on filling out some forms to prove that she's not a driving liability if she ever chooses to get a car. When a witch comes out looking sour, righteous indignation rolling off of him so thoroughly that she doesn't even have to use her powers to read the tantrum he's throwing.

Serves you right, she signs, assuming he won't have bothered to learn it.

[meowhistory]

The only reason that Lena likes to hang out near the police station because how beautiful the building photographs, honestly honestly. Every other kind of curiosity (she blames Jacob for that) is ignored.

Still she can't help but gasp when someone leaves the building, carrying himself in a way that makes clear that he isn't part of the authorities. He's go the dark and handsome down, and oh - do he and the building make a pair.

So go ask him for a picture, she tried to push herself. Go.

[tarnishedbadge]

Levi didn't usually bother with processing. It wans't part of his job and it resulted in more paperwork which he had enough of anyway. He tried to pay attention to anything that might need some special attention though, times when the less understanding members of the SCPD might make a bigger issue out of things or make something worse than it already is.

It was impossible to miss the thoughts of the two patrolmen and the person they brought it. The patrolmen were resigned but the kid was pissed. Levi knew that it was possible that this kid didn't really need to have the hammer brought down on him. Then again, maybe he did.

Grabbing the kids file from a nearby desk, Levi thumbed through it before heading toward the desk where the kid was about to be processed.

"Hey, I know you guys are busy and almost done with your shift," Levi told the two men. "I've still got a few hours. Why don't you let me get this one?"

The two men were more than happy to leave the problem in Levi's lap, thanking him before heading to the break room.

"Mr. O'Connor, why don't we step over to my desk," Levi said, unlocking the kid's cuffs. "I'm Detective Astor. Can I get you anything? A cup of coffee or a towel? It's coming down pretty hard out there."