[Deleted]

There he was again—one wrist handcuffed to an iron handle bolted to a table that was itself bolted to the floor, an annoyingly blinding light hanging just above his head, and the silence of being left alone. He'd been here before, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last time. It was, unfortunately, part of his lifestyle; and while he'd made a decided effort to reduce his illegal activity outside of Blackstorm needs, it was hard for him to say no to a good deal, and this had definitely been a good deal.

The very fact that they'd yet to actually press charges and throw him in a cell meant they didn't really have anything on him, and there's no way they possibly could. Rotty had gotten to the crime scene hours before it was actually reported, and the only thing he had to do was dispose of a small .22 pistol. Whoever it had been used on had already been removed by the time he got there, and all that was left was the weapon and maybe a few drops of the victim's blood. Rotty was okay with that, though—the less he knew the better, especially in this situation. While breaking the pistol down into small enough parts that he could swallow had been tedious and tiring, it had earned him a hefty payment, and there was no way he could be implicated other than the fact he'd been caught walking away from the scene. Thankfully, he'd gnawed his fingerprints off a long time ago, and the hyena DNA that was woven into his own genome made it almost impossible for him to be identified by something like a strand of hair. The police were grasping at straws, and Rotty's only crime at this point was the ratty ten-year-old black shirt he wore that was covered in small holes that revealed his skin beneath. His faded dark jeans were much more put together, though the fabric was still very much worn at the knees and the ankles.

When the door opened, Rotty looked up with a moderately bored expression, though he was thankful he might actually get out. Rotty was fairly patient in these situations because the money kept him so, but he could only remain chained up for so long before his predatory instincts would kick in enough to make him do something he'd really regret. He loved Los Eurosia, and he didn't want to have to flee over something so trivial, so he took a deep breath when he realized it wasn't one of the cops coming to unlock his cuffs.

"Who the fuck are you, fancy pants?" he asked bluntly, running his scrutinizing gaze over the man who'd just walked in, his nostrils flared just a bit so he could really pick up his scent, memorizing it in case he needed it later. Not sensing immediate danger, he raised his eyebrows and smiled handsomely, showing off his bright smile and slightly exaggerated canines.


@mystic

[Deleted]

Samuel did not keep the late hours of some of his clients; he prided himself, in fact, on maintaining the sleep hygiene of someone his father’s age, and typically only holidays or trial preparation kept him awake to see the clock turn over. Unsurprisingly, when his phone rang, the noise roused him from dead slumber, managed to wake his husband despite the device’s placement on Samuel’s nightstand. It was his law partner.

The gist of the conversation came through while his blinked blearily and his jaw cracked from the yawn that he couldn’t contain. An employee for the bar they represented - usually in contract negotiations but they maintained a retainer - had been arrested, possible profiling, definitely not DWI. Christopher apologized three times about not handling it himself but he’d been out at a bar that night and worried about ethical representation with an elevated B.A. level.

Never a concern for Samuel.

The call ended with the promise of an unspecified favor to be claimed at his convenience. Then, with an apology to his husband coupled with encouragement to roll over and fall back asleep, the attorney slipped into the bathroom to wash his face, brush his teeth, and comb his hair. There wasn’t time to shave, which sent a tendril of irritation through the attorney. Already, the day’s growth darkened his cheeks and chin.

It would have to do.

As with all overnight arrests, the client had missed the last transport to county, ensuring that he would be in precinct holding until arraignment or station bail could be arranged. All the easier to find the employee. If the officers found themself held up from shift change because of booking, then perhaps he could parlay that into favorable bail conditions, at least for the night…

Unshaven face notwithstanding, Samuel otherwise looked impeccable when he entered the station: rigid posture, clad in a dark suit and pressed shirt, not a hair out of place. In his gloved hands, he carried a notepad and pen, while he tucked his wallet and attorney ID into his pocket. Only to be greeted with profanity and an insult.

His brow furrowed. Turning dark eyes on the source of the question, he took in the disheveled appearance of the man and the handcuff that bound his wrist to the table. Joy of joys.

“Your attorney,” he answered flatly. The other man’s smile was met with a neutral expression, the same one that Samuel wore in almost all situations unless roused from behind the bland mask. With a long stride, he approached the table and set down the notepad. “Have you said anything to the officers or anyone else after you were stopped?”

@everett

[Deleted]

Just because Rotty didn't sense this guy as a threat didn't mean that they would get along, and he could tell almost instantly that they would not mesh well together. Rotty rarely associated himself with people who voluntarily chose to wear suits, let alone all the other aspects of this guy that just oozed quietude and stick-up-the-assness. Rotty leaned back in his chair, looking up at the other man and observing him by giving a quick and scrutinizing up-and-down with his eyes as he listened to him ask his question.

"Do I look like an idiot?" he asked with raised eyebrows before quickly adding "Don't answer that." He leaned forward and put his fists on the table, clasping them together and crossing his ankles casually under his chair, the chain on the cuffs rattling noisily in the otherwise quiet room. "Would you sit down? You're freakin' me out." He gestured at the chair opposite him, though his eyes never left the other's.

"But yeah, I told them I was hungry, they said too bad, and I told them to suck my peepee." He grins broadly, clearly amused at his own shenanigans with the police, but as much as he wants to outright laugh at himself, he suppresses his hyena chuckle so that it doesn't instill anxiety in his seemingly already stiff attorney.

"Wait, who sent you? I didn't ask for a lawyer."

[Deleted]

Samuel’s social circle was likely far smaller than the other man’s, but the inverse was true. He rarely associated with anyone who dressed in the state in which Rotty found himself - clients, typically, were the extent, unless one of the bears at the gay men’s outings experienced a lapse and thought they were on a retreat. It would be an uncomfortable situation were they socializing, but he expected this, rather at least wasn’t surprised by this state of dress by a handcuffed man in the middle of the night.

Social deficiencies notwithstanding, he could identify a rhetorical question readily enough. He knew better than to answer one way or another and focused on the rest of what was said.He took the invitation to sit more gracefully than it was offered, sliding into the chair across the table, compressing his thin frame almost like a cat to comport himself with the space.

“The taunting might not go over well,” he remarked, first flipping to the second page of the pad and then uncapping his pen to write Possible suppression motion at the top of the sheet, followed by the words, verbatim, that the man had spoken. His memory was strong and didn't require repetition to ensure accuracy.

“I was contacted by someone at the Peach Pit.” That was a simple reconstruction of the six degrees of separation that had led to Samuel’s presence here, tonight, without going into details about his law partner serving as intermediary. “We represent the bar in assorted matters, and they wanted to extend service to you as an employee. Now, did they lay hands on you?”

@everett