basic_powers | Toronto, Canada, January 15th 1935: County Lock Up

Entry tags:

Toronto, Canada, January 15th 1935: County Lock Up

Somehow, despite, or maybe because of his own fear at being trapped in this time and place, Tyler managed to fall asleep on the cot of Cell #18 last night, curled up with his backpack for a pillow.

Jake and Sully haven't noticed who else is in the cells farther down, by now having awakened with the groans of people who have very bad headaches and a desire to consume a lot of asprin.

It's 8 am...and all's quiet for now.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Hey!" yelps Sully as the blond boy walks past his cell. "It's that kid from th' grocery store! We was mindin' our own bizness an' he comes an' beans us with a coupla tin cans! How come he gets ta walk and we don't?"

"Because he didn't wave an unlicensed firearm at a shopkeeper," says Constable Parker dryly. "Nor is he wanted for three counts of armed robbery--unlike you, Neville Sullivan. Your partner might get off with slap on the wrist, but you're going to be put away for a long time."

"Your name's Neville??" says Jake incredulously.

"Shaddup, Jake."

And now Sully...Neville's humiliation complete and proper at the hands of a little blone 10 yearold boy who is far too polite to giggle to the man's face.

This does not exclude Tyler from grinning.

"Sorry about the headache you have, Mr. Jake. I know you didn't want to rob Mr. Cully, but I didn't see another way of stopping the robbery."

Edited 2008-03-10 23:21 (UTC)

"I didn't?" Bewildered blink.

"Yeh, I heard you and Sully..'m sorry Neville, talking outside the alley before you went in to rob the place." Tyler says. "You didn't think it was a good idea."

"Oh yeah, that's right." Jake turns to Constable Parker. "Y' really think I can get off?"

"It's possible. If you're willing to testify in court that--"

"Don't even think about it, Jake!" snaps ~~Neville~~ Sully.

"Hey, you're not the boss o' me!"

"The hell I ain't--"

"...let's get going, Tyler," says Parker quietly as the two thugs continue to squabble.

"Okay...maybe you should put them farther apart later." Tyler follows along after him, looking around.

Maybe if he's really lucky he can use the medallion to sneak out of here!

Edited 2008-03-10 23:49 (UTC)

No such luck. The station's a lot busier now than it was last night, as is the street in front of the building. There are dozens of eyes watching Tyler right up until Constable Parker leads him into the back seat of his police car.

"Mind ye get off th' train where yer meant to, Tyler!" calls O'Toole just before Parker shuts the car door.

"Yessir." Tyler fwumps into the car seat and looks out the window at O'Toole with the face of the saddest little puppy in the whole petshop.

...

Wait.

"But my parents--" It's too late, they're driving away from the station now.

"Trust me, Tyler," says Constable Parker calmly. "I know what I'm doing."

Mr. Revenant says that a lot.

Usually before shoving Tyler off something.

But the boy really can't argue with them in a moving car. "Okay..."

"That poster you picked up last night," Parker continues as he turns onto the main thoroughfare. "Do you recognize that man?"

"Hrrmmm?" Tyler pulls the poster out of his backpack. "Noo...he looks kind of like some of the early heroes from my world."

"...why?"

The constable meets Tyler's eyes in the rear-view mirror. "We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Constable Andy Parker of the Toronto Police, and--" he winks-- "Agent 51 of the Red Panda."

Tyler boggles a bit and has an expression of 'whut'.

"Tyler Marlocke, student of PS238 for metahuman children."

May as well get that out in the open.

"Where are we going?" Something tells him it won't be the train station.

"We've arranged for you to stay at a safe house until the Red Panda can make contact in person. If there's anyone who can get you home, it's him."

They're turning onto a quiet street in a residential area.

Well...now that he isn't really being shipped back to his parents (what a relief!) Tyler's peering out the windows and looking around a bit more.

"Thank you," He says turning around for a bit. "For helping me out."

"Don't thank me yet." Tyler can't see Parker's face properly, but there's a wry smile in the man's voice. "The only place available was with my contact man, Spiro Tapas. He's... a little abrasive."

In the same sense that the Yukon Territory is a little chilly.

"...figuratively or literally?" Tyler looks over his shoulder to glance at Parker.

He's got a mental image of a man made out of sand.

Edited 2008-03-11 01:15 (UTC)

Parker raises an eyebrow at that, but all he says is "You'll see. We're almost there."

It's a concern where he's from, alright.

However that doesn't mean that tyler isn't going to look out some more, enjoying what is a very nice, sedate and calm car ride.

Alas, it's over all too soon, and then Constable Parker leads Tyler up to the door of a nondescript apartment building. Parker taps out a complicated pattern of knocks on the door, then waits.

And waits.

And waits some more.

"You sure they're home?"

"They should be," says Parker with a frown. "I'll try again."

He does--or starts to, anyway. Before he gets halfway through the secret knock, a muffled voice can be heard: "Enough! Enough! I'm coming!"

The door opens to reveal a swarthy, barrel-chested old man. "So, this is the little troublemaker, eh?" he says with a sharp look at Tyler. His voice is gravelly and has a heavy Greek accent.

"Yessir." Tyler replies, backing up a step and holding onto his backpack like his life depends on it. "An if you're referring to the robbers they were asking for trouble."

For a long moment, the man just stares at Tyler. Then:

"Well? Don't just stand there, get inside! Nothing but big blond target you are, standing on front porch gaping like a fish..."

...Tyler's beginning to see Mr. Parker's point on Mr. Tapas.

"Yes sir, Mr. Tapas, sir." He grins trotting inside hurriedly.

Edited 2008-03-12 18:17 (UTC)

"I'd better get back to the station," says Constable Parker. "You think you can handle him, Spiro?"

Spiro snorts a laugh. "That was meant to be a joke, maybe? You just get back to your day job and let Spiro do what the chief asks, eh?" He closes the door and turns back to Tyler. "So. Little Mister Marlocke. What am I to do with you?"

"Make sure I don't disappear on you until your cheif gets to talk to me?" He replies, after thinking a bit. "Other than that... you have a place I can practice my sword katas and a stick I can practice with?"

However, the contents of a certain someone's stomach rather loudly remind him that the last meal he ate was a freaking chocolate bar

Before Mr. Tapas can answer that, a woman's voice sing-songs from somewhere further back in the house. "Oh, Spiii-ro? Are you trying to hide our guest from me?"

A little old lady, so plump as to seem almost round, bustles into the front hallway. "Oh, there he is!" she cries, grabbing Tyler up in a surprisingly strong hug. "You poor thing, lost so far from home with nobody to care for you... Well, no matter, you have Auntie Tasia to take care of you now, yes?"

"Wugh?" Tyler looks boggled and surprised, to say the least of it.

He's not exactly used to being mothered like this, much less by a Greek woman. "Yes'm?"

Tasia breaks off the hug and holds Tyler out at arm's length, looking him up and down with a critical eye. "Ach. So skinny you are! Do they not feed the children in America?" She starts pushing him toward the far door. "Come into the kitchen, I make you a nice soup and some moussaka..."

"He is missing person, woman!" grumps Spiro. "Not a houseguest! All we gotta do for him is keep him safe until tonight when he meets with the chief."

Tasia clucks her tongue at her husband. "Oh, Spiro, have a heart! He's only a little boy who misses his mama, isn't that right, Tyler?"

Tyler is a very bewildered gadget hero right now, and is a bit too stunned to make a reply.

Which is why his stomach makes another loud gurgle for him.

"...all I had to eat last night was a chocolate bar..."

"Well then, what are you waiting for??" She continues to herd him toward the kitchen. "Come, come come come--"

And much feeding ensues.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Toronto, Canada, January 15th 1935: County Lock Up

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject