vengeance, a badge and a gun
Jun. 16th, 2015 10:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
do_what_thou_wiltIt'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...]
(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...]
no subject
Date: 2015-06-25 05:20 am (UTC)His honesty inspires more respect than ire, after the previous words. The recognition of his own intentions, separate from those of those damn Coombses and Grimhildes, and failings goes further. They aren't the first witches to think they're masters and not vessels. She only hopes that he'll have more respect for that, as she's had to learn as a conduit for her own and others' emotions. And, she hopes, more respect for the humans who are even more powerless to stop such an onslaught.
I can't blame mortals for being scared, she types. They live in a town where people can see their thoughts or summon forces of nature. I could reach out and make you feel emotions that aren't your own. Witches and sirens have defenses; they don't. It doesn't make their persecution right, but I can understand why they're scared.
The question is how do they even move forward from that? Hana doesn't know.
Everyone wants their cake and their rightful share. Shit goes badly once they notice their slice is smaller. Hana nods at his diagram and then sighs.
This metaphor is making me hungry. For emphasis, she cups her hand and swings it from sternum to stomach, indicating hunger.
no subject
Date: 2015-06-25 10:29 pm (UTC)He sighs a little and nods reluctantly.
I'm not sure there's any more to fear from us really than there are from them, he writes. Humans can do enough to each other on their own, and having the ability to prevent it doesn't make it stop. He lifts his father's dogtags. He respects soldiers, and even the necessity of fighting, sometimes. He doesn't love war. But maybe that's why they're scared.
He takes a long breath. I can't forgive what's been done. To me, to others. He tends to doodle as he writes and others is illustrated with a fire drawn around it. But I can understand it.
Auryn smirks at shit goes badly. No kidding. He gestures in a mine! way, hands clenched and pulled toward himself. He wonders what he's saying in sign language, if anything. But it's her next admission that makes him actually smile, and he mimics the hungry sign, nodding. He hasn't eaten today. Being arrested kind of messed up dinner.
You want something? I owe you. He draws an arrow from owe to where his coffee cup sits. Auryn counts his debts carefully, but trading food is one of the easiest to deal with. Their pastries are good.
no subject
Date: 2015-06-28 06:13 am (UTC)But on a small scale, at least, peace has been made between the two of them and Hana hopes he'll forgive her waspish behavior. She doesn't know what's gotten into her lately; it must be all the judgmental family genes activating or something, like a mutant power.
Smiling, she nods and takes the pen to scribble out I LOVE their cheesecake. She attempts to doodle a raspberry but it comes out looking more like a cloud from a Don Hertzfeld cartoon.
no subject
Date: 2015-06-29 01:13 pm (UTC)Auryn isn't an empath, but the conversation has settled into comfortable debate rather than frustrated manifesto, and he appreciates that; that they can come to terms with each other. The conversation has been emotionally charged, but it's calmed him down as well to find someone he can actually talk to about it. The energy he can generally sense around, especially more powerful witches is less frenetic around her.
He grins at the doodle and gives her a thumbs up. Right back, he scribbles, and returns with a slice of raspberry cheesecake for her and a brownie for himself, putting her plate down first and sitting.
He glances up over a bite of brownie and scribbles, Would you teach me some ASL, sometime? Learning probably takes a long time :( but talking would be faster. She had no reason to keep talking to him, and he appreciates that she did: he'd like to be able to with some regularity.
no subject
Date: 2015-06-30 08:52 am (UTC)She thanks him by sending a spark of cheer his way, not enough to alter his mood but give him scope of her own. It's an invitation, not an order.
Touching her chin with her fingertips, she waves her hand down and then repeats the gesture before writing down Lesson 1: Thank You.
Since he doesn't seem to use a phone, Hana uses her own and pulls up a few useful titles to start, showing them to him.
no subject
Date: 2015-06-30 10:09 pm (UTC)Hana's grin is contagious and he grins back. He can feel a little nudge of lifted mood, just brushing up against his senses and clearly hers, and even though it's not meant to affect his mood it does, pleasantly, in the way that being around someone happy always has that ability.
He watches her sign and glances at the paper. He steals the pen back and scribbles sideways, how do you say, you're welcome?
Auryn leans to look at the phone studiously, noting abbreviated titles of things he should look up, and looks over at her. He signs thank you more directly to her with a little nod. Not just for the sign language. For the conversation, and the time.
no subject
Date: 2015-07-01 06:14 am (UTC)When he signs thank you, Hana returns the gesture. It might be a point of pride that she sticks with sign language, but she's still grateful whenever someone is willing to learn.
It's strange starting a fight and finishing with a new friend.