Logs:Dispatches From Jail
| Dispatches From Jail | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2022-03-31 "I'm only sorry I cannot do more, but we will fight this." << And you've seen me(us) fight. >> |
| Location
<NY> HAMMER Black Site - Long Island | |
This nondescript facility is far from just about everything in the pine barrens of northwestern Suffolk County. There isn't much to it, really, just a couple of beige prefab buildings, a garage connecting them, and a lot of empty ground between these and the tall razor wire-topped fence with the familiar "US GOV'T PROPERTY NO TRESPASSING" signs. The visitors have been asked to wait in what looks like a repurposed conference room--small for that purpose but incongruously large for its current use, the four folding plastic chairs looking lost at one end of the oblong table with holes pre-cut for nonexistent wiring. Tian-shin is sitting very straight in one of the chairs, dressed plainly and professionally in a black skirt suit with blue pinstripes, sheer stockings, and sensible black pumps. Her files are arrayed in a neat stack in front of her along with a paper cup full of tea and another paper cup beside it for the used teabag in the absence of a trash can. The agent who had brought them the beverages seemed genuinely baffled that she wanted to remove the teabag. She's sipping the tea now with a faintly displeased expression as her eyes scan the corners of the ceiling for surveillance equipment. << I never see cameras and microphones, but I'm certain there must be some, no matter where they've shuffled us. >> Hive is slouched in a chair beside Tian-shin, presentable enough in brown trousers and a pale green button-down, his hair tied back in a short nub of ponytail. He's been scowling at his coffee for a little while now, venturing a small sip at length but hissing quietly at its heat and setting it back down. "Mngh," he is evidently directing this grumble toward the coffee, but his voice thuds back heavily into Tian-shin's mind, a somewhat apathetic, << Probably. >> It's several minutes more before the door opens. Jackson is ushered in by a pair of guards, released from his handcuffs and set free with his visitors. The door closes heavily behind him, leaving him standing a little uncertainly at the far end of the unnecessarily long table before he makes his way toward the others. His thoughts are subdued, an exhausted haze of murky colors and ill-formed images, but aside from the overall tired he looks perfectly fine. There's a brief flutter rippling in sunny-warm yellow through his mind at the sight of Hive; he stops himself reluctantly from rushing to his friend, instead taking a seat opposite the others and summoning up a smile. "Gosh, it's good to see y'all." Tian-shin's eyes search Jax up and down, her concern and appraisal humming intense but wordless to Hive's senses. "Good to see you, too." The smile she returns is thin but sincere. "How are you holding up? We submitted a request to up your light exposure, I hope they've complied." << {Don't trust anything that government dog says,} >> probably was not deliberately meant for Hive, since she thinks it in Mandarin. "I can have them bring you a coffee, but if their tea is any indication it'll be disgusting." Hive doesn't bother with such restraint. He gets out of his seat once Jax has arrived, crossing the table to pull Jax into a hug, bony arms tight around the other man. His mind flexes out as well, coiling around Jax's without quite sinking in, a wordless question in the mental touch. He returns to slumping in his chair afterwards, nudging the coffee over toward Jax. "S'hot as fuck. They treating you okay?" Jax gets half out of his seat, leaning into the hug and returning it fiercely. His cheek presses against Hive's shoulder, fingers scrunching into the other man's shirt and a grateful rush further brightening his mindscape. There's only a slight hesitation before he gives a wordless mental assent. "I mean --" He shrugs a shoulder as he settles back into his seat. Takes the coffee, gulps it without care for the heat. "It's comfy, for jail. Spend way too much time alone, though." His thoughts trace back over the exceptions to this -- flitting distastefully over the guards he sees most often, dwelling with more fondness on the times he gets to spend with other inmates. Somewhere in the mix there's a face very familiar from the news, an elderly man with a shock of white hair, sitting and sketching across from Jackson. "How's things out there? How's Spence?" Tian-shin's head dips. "I wish there were something we could do about the solitude. Claudia and I are still trying to get an injunction for your pretrial release hearing." She picks up her tea and wraps both hands around it. "Spence is--" Her lips compress. "Still doing fine in classes, just...quiet. I think he's been doing a lot of traveling. If you want me to bring him next time..." She makes an indefinite but vaguely welcoming gesture with one hand. "I can, but they might subpoena him and we have no recourse to stop it unless the judge decides he isn't competent to testify." Hive's scowl eases -- less at the hug and more the entwining that follows, mind pressing down into Jax's with a rush of commingled identity. There's surprise and curiosity in his mind at Jax's memories, quietly teasing out the image of Magneto to examine it further. Outwardly, he's just sitting up a little straighter in his chair, one leg bouncing restlessly. "Your fan club's growing," he adds. "Ryan's been keeping the energy up, when he's not --" His face slowly settles back into a grimace, and though he doesn't finish this verbally Jax can feel the worry filling his mind. It comes with thoughts of heavy drinking, of white-cross-jacketed thugs, of Ryan unconscious in a hospital bed, of news of his arrest. "Shane's holding it together at the house, though." His mental voice sounds to both Tian-shin and Jax: << You need to talk off the record, go for it. >> The memory resurfaces easily, a quiet conversation with a figure both feared and respected in Jax's mind, a bowl of shared fruit, a sketch presented to him at the end. << I got the celebrity prison. >> This is at once wry and angry, thinking back over how many years Erik has been here without a lawyer or chance at freedom. His brow furrows deep at the updates on his family outside. "No, Spence shouldn't have to -- wait, are they gonna subpoena you?" He frowns at Hive. "I shouldn't tell you all the juicy prison gossip, then." Instead he sips at his coffee, a small curl of smile easing his frown. "Tell 'em I appreciate their support. Should keep that energy for all political prisoners." The smile fades back away. "You think there's any hope of that? Pretrial release? There's some folks been in here a hot minute now with no trial or nothin'." "You saw the news about the Oscars, right?" Tian-shin looks up at Jax from her tea, resettling her glasses higher up on her nose. "I'm not sure how much your news is delayed..." Her memory flashes to a video of Ryan hitting Ansel Elgort, to the registration push, to the cops dismantling homeless encampments, destroying the belongings of those who have so little. "It's impossible to say for certain, but I think it's pretty likely they will." << Especially if they are recording visits and need a way to legally use what they pick up. Have they been questioning you at all, while I'm not here? I'd be surprised if they haven't offered you a deal for giving up your team. >> She glances between Hive and Jax, nervous and uncertain, then sets her tea down and flips open the top folder. "There's not much hope the injunction will be granted, but a long shot is better than none, and having a clear record you were denied a hearing will help us when this goes to trial." << If this goes to trial {fuck, that wasn't suppose to--} Sorry... >> She blushes, pulling a legal pad from the bottom of her stack and scribbling rapidly. "I'm sure Ryan would read out any messages you want to pass along, for the people who've been in the streets and those watching on the news." "S'some straight up bullshit, the number of people who come for him daily and he's supposed to just sit quiet and take it." The anger in Hive is muted but deep. He shrugs a shoulder indifferently at the question of subpoenaing. "They can grill me on how shitty their coffee is here, sure." Through the mental connection he doesn't need to relay Tian-shin's thoughts but echoing them comes automatically all the same. He just sounds amused at the thought, though: << Can't you just see that? Jax rolling over on all of us, I'll bet. >> The idea of this never going to trial puts a damper on his amusement, and he has very little success suppressing the heavy thoughts that follow. Ryan drinking himself to death, Spencer getting locked in here too for attempting a jailbreak, an increase in the violent clashes between Jax's supporters and the police. "Bet he'd even keep your twitter updated. Dispatches from jail. Be great for your defense fund." "Oscars? Not yet, I was rooting for him though." Jax's brow furrows. "To win, not..." His mind is replaying the echoed image of the punch with something like resignation. "Yeah, I'll give you a statement. Need some time to sort my -- words-brain out though." His hand rubs slowly at his chin, some part of his mind starting to piece together a message fierce enough without risking him further charges. << Yeah, they've tried some, but it don't really seem like their heart's in it. Real perfunctory sort of questioning. >> His eye has fixed down on his hands, and he's trying not to dwell on the thought of being here forever. << I'll keep jailbreak on a real back burner. >> comes with a thought of how the trailers they are kept in are way less defensible than Prometheus labs. "He won Best Original Song for 'Stop for Death'," Tian-shin says, her smile thin but not forced. "The punching was self-defense, but it didn't stop him getting arrested." Here she hastily adds, "He was released shortly, and isn't facing any charges." Her eyes dart aside to Hive, and though her surprise at his tacit admission to being on the raid team is mild, she pales ever so slightly. << That is extremely illegal--even the Patriot Act doesn't allow that. Obviously it doesn't stop them, but if this stays high profile, we may be able to use it. >> She looks down at the page in front of her and starts to write, then stops herself, casting around desperately for something innocent to say aloud and coming out with, "Um...are there any health concerns they haven't addressed?" << Was it just HAMMER, or was the federal prosecutor involved? >> Lipstick notwithstanding, she's biting her lower lip. << We have a better chance getting the feds to throw Malthus Rogers under the bus than the Honorable US Attorney (though he is newly appointed, and black...) >> "The punching was well deserved." Hive's hand starts to lift to rub at his own chin, but drops after a moment. He leans forward, arms folding on the table and shoulders hunched. << Ion'd be here in a second if shit goes sour. >> He lifts one hand, chin dropping to rest in his palm. "What kind of mail are you allowed here? Can we send you books? Print out hilarious tweets you're missing out on? Send you a Days Since Ryan's Last Public Mayhem counter? Probably that one won't last long, Grammys are this weekend. He and Luci are both up." "Oscar was well deserved, too. -- Wait, Luci?" In Jax's mind Only The Tonys are relevant awards for musical theatre. "There's like, a Broadway Grammy?" He's still puzzling this over through his next swallow of coffee. << Just HAMMER's guys. I didn't tell them anything. >> He considers for a moment giving Hive back the coffee but ultimately keeps it; Hive can experience it vicariously. "I mean, I'd like more time outside but overall everything's --" He swallows back the panicky-trapped feeling of being imprisoned here, the guilt and stress over leaving his family, the terror at the thought of this being his Whole Life, Now. "-- fine. Mail is whatever, they'll look through it and confiscate any lockpicks or prison blueprints you try to sneak me but you can definitely tell me about who Twitter's main character has been." "I didn't even know who that Elgort guy was before Ryan punched him." Tian-shin shrugs. << (I swear white men in Hollywood all look the same) >> "But you can probably guess who the media is dragging." She cocks her head at Hive's revelation about the Grammys, but then only nods her agreement to Jax's reaction. << Good. I wish we could get the recordings, but I don't see how, unless we know and trust anyone who's both willing and able to hack the DHS. >> She frowns, riffling through her papers again. << We'll report it to the Office of the Inspector General anyway. They're obligated to at least investigate, and we can get information requests to prove they did. >> "We can submit a request for more outside time for you. They may or may not want a doctor to attest to your medical needs, but if so we'll need another HIPAA form." Ever prepared, Tian-shin already has the form in question, which she slides across to Jax along with a HAMMER-issued pen. "Musical Theatre Album," Hive affirms. "I forget what Ryan's up for. Song? Music video? Couple of shit." He lifts a hand to his lips, teeth worrying at the edge of an already-ragged pinky nail. "Wish I could mail you some goddamn sunshine. I'll curate the best of Am I the Asshole for you." Internally, idly casual in tone though far from casual in the calculation underlying it: << How many of you they got in here, anyway? >> To this, a mental shrug; Jax calls to mind the handful of other prisoners he's met, as well as each of the guards in turn. His room, the recreation trailer, any part of the modular prison that he's been able to observe. "Oh, wow. tell 'em congratulations from me." He snorts at the offer of relayed reddit posts. Takes the pen and paper, head bowing as he reads over the form. << Thank you, >> is echoed aloud, a quiet "Thanks," as he signs. "I really do appreciate all you're doin' for me. It's -- it's a lot, being in here. Might lose hope if not for y'all." Tian-shin covers the flick of her eyes over unseen images by sliding the folders aside to review her notes on the legal pad. Inwardly she remains keenly alert, so there's an almost imperceptible delay before she replies, "You're a comrade in need. That would be enough, but you're also my friend, and I happen to know a wonderful young man who wants his father back." << We can pass a message to Spence, too, if there's anything you'd rather not pass through the feds. >> She takes the signed form with a small bow and returns it to the "Holland, Jackson - Medical" folder. "I'm only sorry I cannot do more, but we will fight this." << And you've seen me(us) fight. >> | |
