Comments | capeandcowllogs: hangin' out at superjail

sibyllant in capeandcowllogs

hangin' out at superjail

Jan 06, 2010 21:21

WHO: ~*OPEN*~
WHERE: superjail
WHEN: W...ednesday. or Thursday.
WARNINGS: probably none, will update if necessary
SUMMARY: Babs takes a look at the prison and chats up the locals.
FORMAT: Quickpara or whatever you feel comfortable with!

( how come you never want to dance with me anymore? )

† riful | n/a, † thundercracker | n/a, † barbara gordon | oracle, † john mcclane | n/a, *in progress

Comments 19

ITT: I BULLSHIT STUFF ABOUT RIFUL'S CELL THAT MAKES NO SENSE FOR ANY PRISON EVER pullingyourlegs January 7 2010, 03:48:11 UTC

On the cot in one cell, a small girl lies prone on her back, her single leg stretched out. She appears to be sleeping; of course, since this is Riful, she's slept through much of the last few weeks and she's hardly drowsy now, but she thinks it may be beneficial to give the police the impression that she's constantly in a stupor. Their eye on her is probing enough as it is.

Although Barbara's chair is almost silent, Riful is both observant and hyper-aware, so she does notice that something's coming, and turns her head toward the window, which basically amounts to a giant bulletproof wall of glass across from the wall her cot's set up against. It would be more tolerable, really, if they'd given her a room with nothing but walls; the fact that she can see out of her prison makes it all the more infuriating that, thanks to her lack of strength and the force fields, she really can't escape it. She barely raises her head; her expectations aren't high, and she's certainly not about to sit up if it's another guard, or someone pushing a ( ... )

Arkham totally has cells just like that. ... of course, Arkham is broken out of 24/7 but sshhh. sibyllant January 7 2010, 06:03:49 UTC

Despite having done her reading and being fully aware of who Riful is and what she's done, the sight of the small, nearly limbless girl is palpably disheartening. Barbara wheels close and touches the glass, which is less of a sentimental gesture than a desire to gauge the composition and thickness, and makes another note in her laptop, keys clicking quietly.

After a moment she raises her eyes and says casually, "Hello, Ms. Riful. Tired today?"

/killer croc pullingyourlegs January 8 2010, 05:05:43 UTC

The respectful touch doesn't escape her, but it grates all the same. She shouldn't be only Ms. Riful, after all; it's not enough. It is what she is within the boundaries of this room, not what she was and remains to be. She is the Abyssal One of the West, and even the smallest displays of respect, geared toward placating her as they are, have begun to make her seethe ( ... )

crackofthunder January 7 2010, 05:42:49 UTC

If she talked to Sentinel Prime about any prisoners to take note of, odds are good that he had a little extra sneer in his tone for Thundercracker. Being a Decepticon makes him one of the Commissioner's sworn enemies, and his involvement with Blackarachnia, an ex-flame of Prime's, has earned him a spot on the boss's shitlist.

Not that the shaggy, rumpled man in the cell cares that much. True, provoking Prime is one of the only pleasures he gets during this incarceration, but it's not enough fun to mitigate how utterly depressed and miserable he looks. Even with those eyes that occasionally glow an eerie red.

As they are while he's staring at the ceiling.

sibyllant January 7 2010, 06:11:17 UTC

Though she may have seen stranger in her time, she still pauses by Thundercracker's cell to regard his red-lit gaze, ceiling-wards as it is. Prison is not intended to be loads of fun, but she recalls some of this prisoner's posts and reflects on the rather unnatural set of circumstances that make dying here little more than an inconvenience. It's a nightmare for the depressed and suicidal, unless they're dedicated enough to keep at it until they forget sufficiently to change their outlook.

Closing her laptop for the moment, Barbara says quietly, "Hello, Mr. Thundercracker."

crackofthunder January 7 2010, 07:00:19 UTC

His head rolls over a bit, as he takes a long look at this woman. The wheels on her chair putting the fleeting idea in his head that she might be an Autobot. It passes, and he just gives a dour smirk as his eyes go back to the ceiling.

"The only way my name could sound more ridiculous in a human context is putting a 'Mister' in front of it."

sibyllant January 7 2010, 07:15:09 UTC

She smiles slightly and suggests, "Mr. Thundercracker, esquire? Dr. Thundercracker?"

Thread 9

yippiekiyay January 7 2010, 06:26:27 UTC

John McClane has one of the better accommodations in the place, reserved for minor sentences and those who help in police investigations. He's even got a barred and metal-meshed window that he's currently gazing out of, leaning against the wall of his cell.

There's even the faint scent of cigarette smoke. Seems the ex-chief knows how to work the system.

sibyllant January 7 2010, 07:12:49 UTC

She's far less hesitant to approach John McClane than she was most of the other prisoners. His exoneration is a priority, though the case is rather complicated. Halting outside his cell, Barbara turns her chair toward him and inquires, "Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. McClane?"

yippiekiyay January 7 2010, 07:17:19 UTC

"Yeah," he says, with a wry smirk.

"Make some room on your lap and wheel me outta this dump."

sibyllant January 7 2010, 07:34:10 UTC

With a grin, Babs turns a rueful look on the lap in question and then a scrutinizing one at McClane.

"We'll call it Plan B," she says lightly. "But we're definitely getting you out of here. Though," she sighs, "I'm sure you've heard that lots from everyone. Still, and I know how egotistical this sounds but I honestly believe it to be true, with my father and I on the force now? It will make a difference. My name is Barbara Gordon. Pleased to meet you, Mr. McClane."

Thread 7