ArchivedLogs:Breaking Down Barriers

Breaking Down Barriers
Dramatis Personae Parley, Cage
In Absentia	2013-09-28 Following his arrest, Parley makes Cage's bail.
Location A Downtown Precinct
Hard metal walls open into holding cells, muffling and sterilizing the sounds of lock clicks and jingling keys. Cage's accommodations are, perhaps surprisingly, rather standard. It's not like there actually /are/ many options of security the mutant couldn't rip his way through in short order. "Assault and obstruction, Mr. Cage." This is Parley's first and foremost statement as he's allowed into the holding area, all neat high gray turtleneck, black jacket, black rimmed glasses and a /severely/ thinned mouth. A policeman is entering with him, keys already brandished. Cage sits up on the cot in his cell, feet out in front of him on the cot as well. When Parley and the officer come down the hall, he swings to a sitting position, and stands up, tossing the worn paperback he was reading onto the little bed. "Thanks for coming, Parley." Cage keeps his expression fairly neutral for now, and also seems to not have a lot of overtone thought process. Cage is currently wearing clothes they must have scrounged up from the lost and found. He's got a pair of jeans belted on that look like they could belong to someone twice his size. His t-shirt on the other hand, a 'New Hampshire is for Lovers', pale pink style, and definitely two sizes too small. He doesn't seem particularly self-conscious about the clothes, but there they are. "Have you been treated alright?" You can't really ask Cage if he's /hurt/. It's a little difficult to manage, for most people. But Parley is nevertheless running a critical assessment up and down the man behind bars (only staring... a LITTLE at his shirt) while the officer goes about unlocking the door. An officer that is not /shy/ with how little he gives a shit about these whole proceedings, mouth fixed in a sour hard line. The door swings open, and Parley steps back, one of Luke's own light weight jackets slung over an arm. He offers the jacket forward. Luke raises an eyebrow at the jacket and sighs his relief. He reaches up and with no more effort than one would pull a cobweb off, he tears the t-shirt off and tosses it aside. "Yeah, they been fine. Followed everything by the book. No one wants a mistrial, do they, officer Krupke?" Cage pulls on the jacket and zips it up to his neck, masking the lack of shirt beneath. "Did you bring a car?" he asks hopefully. "I don't drive," Parley - slowly raises a hand and just... serenely /cups/ one cheek, turning his head down into his palm, because, yes, Cage IS ripping his clothes off. Having one hand against his face does mean he has a second one to adroitly extend to take the shreds of Luke's previous shirt to make it easier for the man to zip himself in. It /does/ suit him better, doesn't it. Whatever Officer Krupke's LOOK at Luke Cage might indicate (it isn't likely to be WARM), Parley still gives the officer a small, genuine smile and nods his head, "Thank you." And moves to walk them out the door. "So. The news is in a frenzy." Just casually putting that out there. Luke nods and follows Parley, ignoring the cop entirely. He keeps his expression as blank as possible while they move through the precinct. "Yeah, I figured," he says. "I assume it's just 'no comment' for now?" "With a healthy dose of relief that there was no loss of life." Parley says it deadpan low as they move through the inner bowels of the station, kind of absently /folding/ up the shreds of Cage's DESTROYED shirt until it's a nice tidy little bundle. There are a few doors that need to be unlocked, Luke and Parley - the odd duo - standing in wait at each one before moving on. "Possibly a comment about prayers for those recovering. Heroes for Hire is now opening a donation fund to help pay for damages to the church. It's already been announced on our twitter feed and website. This is your own idea, and you will be spending your free time between now and your /court date/ helping to sort out the rubble. Did you really punch your way into a government armored car?" Luke nods along with all of Parley's information. "That's all good stuff, Parley, really good. Thank you. Remind of all this when it comes to your review." Luke smirks and glances around to make sure no one is close enough to hear before answering the final question. Instead, he sees guards every which way. He raises his eyebrows at Parley. "They ran me over with that thing and dragged me underneath. I panicked <<sarcasm>> and defended myself. They can't have me on camera for that though. Just the part when I got run over." Luke shrugs and waits for the last set of doors to unlock. "Ahh? You mean I won't be the one writing your reviews for you?" Parley asks innocently, as they are lead out into the station proper. It's more active, differently peopled with desks where civilians and police uniforms move in and out of glass-encased offices. The muffled narrow halls open to more sounds, the soft ringing of phones. The blessed distant rumble of traffic and horns honking beyond. "You weren't thinking," this isn't chastisement so much as - suggestion? Ahead of them are the doors, where a small brace of press members are already congregating, milling as darks shapes beyond the frosted glass. "Our cab is waiting at the curb."