Suspects' Holding Cell

[etcircenses]

The vans drive for what seems like an hour before they come to a stop, and Peacekeepers blindfold and forcefully drag even the most cooperative suspects into a building.

The suspects are all held in one cell, a large, metal room with a thick door and a single ledge that serves as a bench. Bright fluorescent lights beam from overhead. There are no windows and no clocks, no sign of where they might be.

The Peacekeepers take off the blindfolds, though without much care for whether they come off all the way or chafe or stay slung around the suspects' necks. The suspects' hands are left cuffed behind their backs, and even the most ingenious of them won't be able to pick the lock on their restraints, but they're otherwise left to roam freely through the space.

Suspects are removed, one at a time, at unpredictable intervals, by Peacekeepers armed with tasers. Some take three hours to return, while others are back within only a minute. Each of them comes back having been clearly roughed up and pressed for information that they may or may not hold; some are bleeding or sporting the beginnings of black eyes.

They'll be sleeping here tonight.

Comments

[amoral_savior]

There's no hiding the pure fear and confusion over being in the cell. He wasn't one of those people who hung around shady bars and asked questions about Capitol secrets (except, maybe, that one time, but he is a scientist), there was no reason he could think that he'd be accused of whatever they were accusing him of.

When Eva approached him, he made room for her right away even as the other prisoner moved away. She was the only person he really knew here, the only person he trusted enough to talk to. "Why? I'm not-" He glanced around the room in an effort to make it clear how much he wasn't like those around them. "I've done the Citizen thing! I work for-" Damn. This was the downside of secrets. "I haven't done anything."

[vissernone]

"I know you haven't." She isn't looking for him to give her an alibi or explain his innocence; the more he says now, the more likely he'll give someone, anyone, something to use later. She's well-aware that they're being monitored in here.

She can't take his hand when hers are behind his back, but she hopes he can see her urge to give him that comfort, to brush his bangs out of his face.

"I'm going to handle it for you. I know how these sort of things work. Just don't say anything."