Another Prison System
WHO: martianmonster and loves_war
WHERE: At the prison, in an interview room
WHEN: Early Afternoon, Monday May 31st
WARNINGS: Talk of murder, arson and jaywalking.
SUMMARY: M'stra and the Major have pie and talk genocide.
FORMAT: I'll start para but anything is fine after that.
A disguise was the sort of thing that creatures like M'stra M'orzz usually put together on very short notice, applying the sort of second hand thought that most humans gave to washing their face or brushing their teeth while still half-asleep in the morning. Though complete on the surface shifting her outer layers took about the same amount of effort as a college student assembling a third-grade diorama.
Today's new persona was more of a high school essay.
She'd been very careful about the details of the badge, her smart business clothes, her coiled-up hair, but especially about the box of files she carried on her hip which she couldn't really just shapeshift. She'd had to buy at Staples, write on it with important looking script, and fill with spare paper. It had all come off lovely in the end in her opinion.
Her heeled feet clacked along the concrete floor as the officer led her into the interrogation room. Not a person so far had batted an eye at her (which was part the good disguise and part the occassional mental nudge). The officer standing inside the room was no exception when M'stra ushered him out.
As the door closed behind her she set the file box smartly onto the desk and beamed at the Major, already seated across the table waiting for, as his guard may have told him, an ADA Morris from the city office. Popping the lid off the file box M'stra lifted out a still warm raspberry pie and set it on the table between them.
"Guter Nachmittag, mein Kamerad. How are you today?"
WHERE: At the prison, in an interview room
WHEN: Early Afternoon, Monday May 31st
WARNINGS: Talk of murder, arson and jaywalking.
SUMMARY: M'stra and the Major have pie and talk genocide.
FORMAT: I'll start para but anything is fine after that.
A disguise was the sort of thing that creatures like M'stra M'orzz usually put together on very short notice, applying the sort of second hand thought that most humans gave to washing their face or brushing their teeth while still half-asleep in the morning. Though complete on the surface shifting her outer layers took about the same amount of effort as a college student assembling a third-grade diorama.
Today's new persona was more of a high school essay.
She'd been very careful about the details of the badge, her smart business clothes, her coiled-up hair, but especially about the box of files she carried on her hip which she couldn't really just shapeshift. She'd had to buy at Staples, write on it with important looking script, and fill with spare paper. It had all come off lovely in the end in her opinion.
Her heeled feet clacked along the concrete floor as the officer led her into the interrogation room. Not a person so far had batted an eye at her (which was part the good disguise and part the occassional mental nudge). The officer standing inside the room was no exception when M'stra ushered him out.
As the door closed behind her she set the file box smartly onto the desk and beamed at the Major, already seated across the table waiting for, as his guard may have told him, an ADA Morris from the city office. Popping the lid off the file box M'stra lifted out a still warm raspberry pie and set it on the table between them.
"Guter Nachmittag, mein Kamerad. How are you today?"