(Untitled)

[bitingnightmare]

Having this thing in my cell brings back memories.

Just book me already, for fuck's sake.

[ooc: Open action for Fables characters, regular network post for everyone else.]

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[Displeased Bluebird]

[playstheblues]

[He's coming into where they're holding him, and he closes the door behind him. On one hip is the Vorpal Sword; in his hand is his baseball bat]

Hi.

[Displeased Bluebird]

[bitingnightmare]

Hi.

[Oh shit.]

[Displeased Bluebird]

[playstheblues]

[He takes a deep breath. A deep breath]

So. Do you want me to go around all the reasons I'm angry with you, or should I cut to the chase?

[Displeased Bluebird]

[bitingnightmare]

[Teeth eyes look this way then that way.]

It's up to you.

[Going to need a cigarette for this, unless Blue takes the one he just put into his mouth away.]

[Misplaced Wrath]

[passionforshoes]

[Chair. Gun. Tactical baton. Cindy brings these three things with her into Cori's new home. She says nothing to him as she pulls the chair into the middle of the room corner, not too far from him, and takes a seat. Off come the stylish sunglasses as she stares at him quietly, face neutral. The baton is placed on the ground with a clatter.]

[Misplaced Wrath]

[bitingnightmare]

You know I suck cock right?

[Indignant.]

[Misplaced Wrath]

[passionforshoes]

[A single eyebrow goes up in response. Whether it's an amused or annoyed eyebrow remains to be seen.]

[Misplaced Wrath]

[bitingnightmare]

. . . . .

What.

[ntrlbrnkiller]

Cell?

[bitingnightmare]

Yes. Don't even say it.

[ntrlbrnkiller]

What're you in for this time? Big trouble or did ya smack another car?

[bitingnightmare]

The former.

[shit_stings]

Wow. So you and Elle... The whole little posse's in a little bitta trouble, huh?

[bitingnightmare]

The bitch isn't with me if that's what you're asking.

[shit_stings]

No, but she sure as hell got called out by some other blonde honey the other day.

Miracle anyone's managed an arrest 'round here.

[bitingnightmare]

You were watching?

Action; (Double-Amy-Whammie.)

[thegoodprince]

Evening.

[Because it's probably not a 'good' one. Fly likely smells a little like chemical cleaner, and he pulls his hat lower as he looks into the room.

He's only here to drop off two tacky-looking plastic boxes, a well-packed lunchbox and a store-bought First Aide Kit. It hasn't caught on that the Corinthian doesn't eat. He enters the room only enough to place the boxes by the door.]

Here you are.

[There might be a knowing tone of 'you're going to need it,' deep in the voice. Concerned. And then he's gone again.]

Action; (I like the name of this.)

[bitingnightmare]

[He smells Fly first before he comes in, although Cori doesn't quite connect the chemical scent to him.]

. . . . Right.

[Teeth eyes narrow at this man, but he doesn't move to detain him.]