I'd say you're looking at a Boeski, a Jim Brown, a Miss Daisy, two Jethros and a Leon Spinks...

[darkinferno]

WHO: Dante, Ritsu, Isa, Naoto, Gabranth, Togusa, Juzo, Fynn, and Ardyn
WHERE: Around town, the Recollé Art Museum, the Recollé Police Department
WHEN: Forward-dated to April 27th
WHAT: Bad friends, bad decisions, bad results. Dante tries to help out a pal and ends up in police custody as the RPD captures the wrong guy. Shenanigans ensue! Don't piss off the police force, folks.
WARNINGS: None ATM, will edit if any come up!



It's a pretty normal day, all things considered, when Dante finds himself being grabbed and hauled off the street by a vise-like grip around his forearm.

He's reacting the moment his brain realizes what's happening, twisting over his shoulder and wrenching his arm free, but he's already halfway into the alleyway, and once he recognizes the dirty brown hair and too-wide eyes, he steps the rest of the way into it himself. "Jamie."

"Hey, Dante."

Dante folds his arms, taking a half-step back to rest his weight on his back foot. "I haven't seen you in years. What're you doing here?"

"I live here now," the boy says, giving him a wide shrug and a grin. "Have for a while. I've seen you around, you know. Just haven't talked to you. Been busy. Lots of stuff to do. Can we talk?"

"We are talking."

"No, not like that," Jamie says, shaking his head. He's gotten taller, Dante notes, but he still has a lot of the same mannerisms. The sharp, quick movements, the way his eyes are constantly moving, checking around them at all times for something, anything, that might warrant his attention. "I want to talk. You know, like we used to. Jobs."

Ah. Dante frowns, realizing what this is going to be about, but nods. "Sure, why not? Tell me what you've got planned."

"Not here." The boy shakes his head again, eyes roving the alley. "Too many people. They might take shortcuts. Follow me."

He leads the way, picking alleys and streets seemingly at random until they reach somewhere that seems secluded enough for Jamie's taste, perched up on a wall that blocks off the end of an alleyway. Then and only then does Jamie turn his attention back to Dante, brown eyes wide with excitement as he leans toward him. "I've been picking up jobs again. Like the gang used to, back in Maldon-on-Hudson."

"Picking up? You mean you're working for someone?"

Jamie shakes his head, seeming pleased with himself. "I make my own jobs. Stake a place out. Watch and see where their security fails. Then strike. You know that jewelry store three weeks ago? That was me. And the computer store a week and a half back. Easy targets. They didn't know what hit them."

"And I'm guessing you're coming to me now because you've got another place in mind." Dante folds his arms, leaning against the building behind him, considering the idea. He's already certain this isn't something he wants to be a part of: after all, it's getting wrapped up in idiocy like this that got him into trouble in the first place, sent back to his amma like a pet that had had more energy than its owners had expected. His parents had only been trying to protect their legacy by sending him back; he'll be risking that again if he agrees to help Jamie out.

"Yeah." Jamie nods, his excitement evident in his eyes. "I've got everything figured out. I just need someone beside me."

"I don't know. I've been keeping my nose clean, Jamie. I kind of want to keep it that way."

The other boy looks almost offended at his words. "You? Keeping your nose clean?"

Dante mirrors his expression. "I didn't get into that much trouble!"

"Got nabbed transporting, didn't you?" Jamie snorts. "That's trouble."

"Hey! You're the one asking me for help here!" Dante exclaims, scowling. "If you're gonna dig that up, you can break in wherever it is you're going on your own."

"Quiet down!" Jamie hisses, expression growing darker. "You wanna tell the whole city my plans?"

"Nobody's listening." Dante gestures to the streets around them. "Quiet as the grave. Now, if you want my help, start talking. Where, when, and what do you need from me? I'll decide whether I'm in based on that."

"Uh-uh. Commitment first. Then details."

"No way. You wanna hitch your wagon to my star, you tell me what we're planning first. I'll be damned if I'm going in on a job that's doomed to failure from the start."

Jamie scowls, seeming to consider Dante's words, then sits back. "Fine. But you're not gonna hear me out and then go narcing on me, right? I'll know who it was."

"I'm not gonna narc," Dante says, rolling his eyes. "Now where's the target?"

For a moment, there's silence between the two boys. And then Jamie seems to relent. "Art museum, Thursday night. Probably midnight, 1 A.M."

"The art museum?"

"Yeah. A few good pieces there. Easy pickings. Cut 'em outta the frames, done deal. We can split it 70/30."

Dante frowns. "And how are you planning on getting in?"

"We'll go from the top. It's why I need you. You can get us equipment for a top entry."

Yeah, this sounds like idiocy. "So you want to break into the art museum by going in through the top--give me more details, dude."

Jamie shakes his head, looking as though he's refocusing himself to the conversation. "Okay. Roof's got an access hatch. Locked, I can't get it. But you--you can pick it, right? Then we go down the hatch, into the top floor. I know the layout, the cameras, the guards. I can get us around."

"And you need equipment?"

A nod. "Picks. Transport cases. These're gonna ship out to NYC. Can't have them getting damaged. A kid like me, I buy 'em, I'm suspicious. You, you got money. You can buy 'em without suspicion. Something to disable invisible fences. You can get that, can't you?"

"By Thursday night?"

"Yeah."

"What'd you do with the stuff from the jewelry store? Or the computers?" Dante asks, trying to buy time. It's a stupid idea. A monumentally stupid idea. A jewelry store, fine. An electronics store, fine. Maybe stupid, but fine. The art museum? Jamie is all wiry muscle and dexterity, but Dante still can't see how this is going to work. More likely the boy's going to get caught, and wind up doing time. How old even is he? He's got a couple years on him, sure, but Jamie still can't be more than 21 or 22. The kid can't even grow a beard yet, even though it's apparent from the uneven stubble he's trying.

"That? Fences in the city," Jamie says, waving a hand. "Don't know much about art, though. Got a guy in New York who'll sell 'em. So what do you say?"

If he says no, he's not entirely sure that Jamie won't try it anyways. He's always been the type of person to go for the long shot, even when there's no chance of it actually working out. But if he says yes, and then shows up without any of the equipment they need... maybe he can turn him around? At the very least, he can convince him that through his own scoping out of the place, it'd be too impossible as a target.

"All right," Dante says. "Thursday night. Meet at 11:30 on top of the art museum. There's nothing to watch out for up there, right? No cameras or perimeter alarms?"

"None."

"And we split it 50/50."

"You don't need it! 70/30."

"You aren't getting in without my help, are you? 50/50."

Jamie considers it. "...60/40. It's my mark. My job. I'm just inviting you."

"Deal." And Dante reaches out to shake hands.

Thursday night.

Comments

THE TIP-OFF

[darkinferno]

[esperimental]

Jamie was careful, but not careful enough. To his credit, a small boy like himself should not be anywhere near or within suspicious alleyways where these sort of dealings happened. Ritsu had begun wandering off the standard path to home ever since he realized how little he tried to make this new city his home, and went off the beaten path. Very, very far off the beaten path. What was he searching for exactly? Well, if it was trouble, he had found it. Or it had found him.

He didn't like the hushed tones combined with disproportionately excited intonation-- particularly from the first of the two voices, however it seemed the other raised no objection. That was bad news no matter which way you threw it. Having ducked behind a large trash bin nary a second before he could have come into their line of view, Ritsu carefully slid out his phone from his pocket and began recording as soon as he heard the boasts of former break-ins.

"(...) you're coming to me now because you've got another place in mind."

Another one for the garbage bin, being proud of this lifestyle.

Ritsu kept his quip to himself, behind a said garbage bin, because boy he would be in a world of trouble if he was caught. He crouched still and silently, and when they were gone, his steps were tentative in getting back up. He replayed his recording, to see if it had caught each of the details in crisp sound. As expected, it wasn't perfect with the phone being an older model, but it helped that they had picked out someplace so remote from the rest of the city noise. The conversation should be solid evidence, even if he hadn't seen what the two looked like.

He wastes no further time loitering as he steps out of there, probably having caught on some of that grimy musty smell from where he hid. Ritsu steps up to the police department's door, looking deadly serious. --That may have been his default look actually, but most adults wouldn't know that. And as soon as he opens it, it's all business.

"Who do I approach about suspects on a crime?"

[recusancy]

Isa took over the front desk today, covering for an ill coworker. He glances up when he hears the door open, and as the teenager approaches, his expression is neutral, but expectant.

And then his eyebrows tick up a little in mild surprise. That definitely wasn't where he thought this was going.

"Me," he answers plainly, pushing his chair out from behind the desk. "Are you prepared to make a statement?" He'll have to find someone else to sit at the front desk in the meantime. He could always appoint Naoto, but he'd rather use this time to provide an additional learning opportunity instead.

THE STAKE-OUT

[darkinferno]

Re: THE STAKE-OUT

[standalonehuman]

Detective Gabranth had been the one to pass the tip off down, and truth be told, Togusa was surprised to get chosen to come along. If they were expecting trouble, there are better choices. But when it hits Hour Number Four, Togusa suddenly vividly understands why he's here: this job requires more patience than anything else.

The ironic thought comes to him that the other side of this needs patience, too. Somebody's out there seeing if they can find the security while they're here trying to find the person that doesn't belong here. First person to run out of patience and reveal themselves loses. So he'll do his best to stay alert to the outside of the building.

[truedetective]

Naoto knew that there was no way the police would let her go on an active stakeout. This is late at night and, grandfather's influence aside, she has school. There are actual criminals here.

So she'd gone anyway. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, after all. She'd get experience, she'd help solve the case. After all, hadn't she been there to overheard the tip-off? She knows what's going on. Another set of evidence-gathering eyes and ears can never hurt.

Being small and able to get into the bushes unseen helps, though.

SPRINGING THE TRAP

[darkinferno]

[Dante makes sure to get to the art museum early. After all, if he's going to try and shut this whole thing down, he doesn't need Jamie to be already halfway through the door when he gets here! So while the two boys had made plans for 11:30, Dante's getting there at 11:10. Honestly, he's expecting Jamie to show up closer to 11:45 or midnight, but whatever, he can keep himself occupied while he waits.

He's dressed in dark colors, wearing the half-gloves that had somehow found their way into his bag last month (he still isn't sure where he got them...), hood pulled up over his head as he makes the jump from dumpster to fire escape, pulling himself up and over the railing without dropping the ladder down to the ground. From there, it's a fairly easy climb to the top, placing his feet carefully to avoid the noise of footsteps, keeping his attention focused so that he doesn't clip the edge of a step in the darkness. And then he's reaching the rooftop, wide and open, dotted here and there with fans and HVAC equipment and a door that looks like it must be the stairwell down to the museum proper.

Up here, the chatter of the city seems a little bit more distant, as though he might stand apart from it. Dante stretches both arms over his head, leaning side to side to loosen up his body, and then... he waits.]

CELL BLOCK SOLILOQUIES

[darkinferno]

[Well, this has gone just swimmingly, hasn't it? Anyone passing by the cells might see Dante sitting in one of them, arms folded, a scowl on his face. You've got to be kidding him--try to do something good for a change, try to help a guy out and keep him from screwing up, and what happens? You get thrown behind bars. Fine, see if he ever tries to do anything good again after this...

Come and bug Dante--he's not going anywhere!]

[recusancy]

[Is Isa petty enough to visit Dante's cell to mock him? Yes. Is that the entire reason why he's here? He would certainly say "no" to that. His eyes are on a clipboard as he enters, idly marking on it as he approaches the desk for the officer on guard. He speaks lowly to them, then turns the clipboard to offer it to them. They make some scribbles, then dig out their wallet, retrieves some bills, and offers them along with the clipboard back to Isa. Isa takes both, securing the money under the clip.

Look, see? He's here to collect their order for a late-night food run.

... he's just also going to take the opportunity to deliver Dante a long, pointed stare of insufferable detached amusement.]

I see your disdain for police officers has been of benefit to you.

[darkinferno]

[Very late night, since it was already late by the time they'd captured him in the first place!

But when Isa comes in, collecting food orders and cash from the guard on duty, Dante's sprawled out on what passes for a bed in there, staring at the ceiling. The murmur of voices catches his attention, even if he can't make out what it is they're saying, but he still sits up regardless, watching the two officers speaking.

And then Isa's addressing him. Dante stares back at him for a moment, meeting his look with one of disinterest, then snaps his fingers, pointing his way.]

That's right, you're that one guy. Fuku-whatever-it-was.

At least you aren't lying down on the job tonight.

[Yeah there is about 0% reason Dante sees to bother with any pleasantries, especially when Isa's already giving him shit.]

it is time

[mercurio]

[prompto shows up, walking down the hallway of cells and towards the one where dante is locked behind. his arms are crossed, back straight, and head cocked to the side. the obvious disapproval is clear on his expression.]

[he begins by shaking his head]

Sup.

i'm already crying oh my god

[darkinferno]

[After Isa, Dante isn't exactly expecting anybody else to come and see him--is he even allowed to have visitors down here? He doesn't know.

But obviously he is. It's a surprise to see Prompto appear through the doorway, striding toward him, the disapproval almost rolling off of him in waves--why so much disapproval, Prompto...? What did he do...?

At any rate, Dante's standing up from where he's been chilling out on what passes for a bed in the cell, coming closer to the door.]

Hey, Prompto. Thanks for texting the prof. I owe you one, man.

INTERROGATIONS

[darkinferno]

[It doesn't matter what room they're in, who it is that's facing him, what they're going to try and pull on him to get him to talk... Dante's annoyed to be there, and he doesn't care who can read it on his face as he's led to the interrogation room. There's not much he can (or would, even if he had the information) tell them about Jamie, no matter whether they're trying the carrot or the stick, the good cop or the bad cop. So why do they even bother?

The door to the interrogation room is opened, Dante's led in... how's this going to go this time?]

[outpunch]

[If somebody outside work asked him about Dante, he'd probably just shrug. Like hell he would like to talk about that brat. But this, this is completely different. Once he hears a familiar name, his lips quirk up in a wicked smile. It's always good to know that guys who are full of themselves also screw things up sometimes.

And from the sound of it, he screwed up big time.]

Yo. It's been a while. Need anything? Something to drink, eat? Or maybe you're tired of all this shit?

[After that rather casual greeting, Juzo takes a seat in front of him. He's not even trying to hide how amused he is.]

[darkinferno]

[Dante's got a deadpan look on his face as Juzo takes a seat in front of him. For a moment he has to think, trying to remember who it is that this is... "It's been a while" means that they've talked before, so...

His eyebrows raise in an expression of what might be skepticism were the rest of him not so deadpan--and then it clicks, and a flicker of a smirk crosses his face.]

Depends. If I say yes how many times are you going to fuck up the online ordering this time? I'm only one guy, I can't cover for all your mistakes.

[standalonehuman]

Let's. Try this again. It's Togusa's turn, and, unfortunately for everybody involved, he knows damn well who Dante is going to call when they give him the opportunity for a phone call. Dropping both Izunias into this situation is only going to make it better. So Togusa is only going to advise letting that happen when he's ready to just burn this entire situation to the ground.

Because right now, he's more curious than irritated at Dante. (That will likely quickly change.) So he walks in, nothing in hand, doesn't even have anything to take notes on. "Hey." As if this is just some casual social visit. He sits, and tucks a hand under his chin to prop his head up.

We're starting with Togusa's burning curiosity first. "Why- the art museum? That is absolutely the last place in the city I would have ever expected to find you?"

[darkinferno]

Dante uses the time between interrogations to re-center himself. There's no denying that he enjoys the verbal sparring matches, but he also knows that if he lets himself ride too high on that enjoyment, he's going to slip and say something he'll regret. Sure, he doesn't think there's much the department can get him as things stand, but all it takes is a sarcastic joke about breaking in or a sneered comment about assault to find himself being hauled up in front of a judge trying to plead his innocence--a consequence he'd do a lot to avoid.

But for some reason, he's not expecting it to be Togusa that walks into the room next. For a moment, Dante's bemused, but then he settles in. Time to see what tact he's going to try and use.

It's obvious immediately that he's going to have to be on his toes a lot more around Togusa; his modus operandi (at least so far) seems to be to play it casual, develop a rapport. But while Dante's got some amount of respect for him, this is a different situation.

So in response to Togusa's question, Dante lifts a shoulder in a large, overacted shrug. "Who knows?" he says. "Maybe I just felt like looking at the exhibits. Why wouldn't you have ever expected to find me there?"

His own curiosity's going to get him in trouble sometime.

[rygdea]

[The details on this case are sketchy as hell. Fynn over heard bits an pieces of what's going on an he could scarcely believe it. As of right now, they have this teeneage twerp sitting up in the interrogation room giving Recollé PD one hell of a run around. While he's not adverse to using more persuasive forms of interrogations reserved for drug dealers and general scumbags, Fynn finds himself hesitating a little since this is just a Recollé college student.

That's why Fynn doesn't immediately kick open the door like some crazy action star. Instead, Fynn opens the door normally and walks right in holding a cup of coffee in his hands. Forgive him if he looks pretty damn unimpressed with you, Dante. He really didn't expect to be interrogating some punk kid today and he's a little agitated about it.]

Okay, so you're the jerk fucking up my week.

[He grumbles as he places his mug down upon the metal table. Yeah, it's a cat mug, Dante. Guess who finally admitted his love for domestic hellbeasts. This loser here.]

Geez.

[He rubs his hand over his sleep deprived face for a second before fluffing up his hair a little. Fynn is always a tad disheveled looking but ttoday is a tad worse. Be damned if he isn't fly though.]

Where should we begin?

[darkinferno]

[Ahh, Fynn. Dante doesn't give any indication of noticing when the door opens, his attention on the styrofoam cup of coffee that Togusa had brought him after their discussion. It's not as good as the stuff he makes at home, but it's caffeine, so he's sure not complaining.

It's only when he notices the cat mug that a smirk starts to curl across his lips, leaning back in his chair to get a look at Fynn. The name had been familiar when Togusa mentioned it, but now that he's sitting here in front of him he can connect the name with the face.

What, has it been a rough night, Fynn?]

Well, you never answered me when I asked what name you wanted to go by, so I guess we can start there. Fins Izangler doesn't seem too fitting with the mug, though. [Propping an elbow on the table, he rests his chin on his hand, as though in thought.] Fetch Inukita's probably out too, if you're a cat fan...

What was it your brother had? Imewnia?

[Goldmine. Dante snaps his fingers, sitting upright.]

I know. Fleas Imewnia.

[judicatus]

[ Right. With perhaps singular exception to Togusa, none of them have gotten anywhere with this kid. Time for one more try.

Gabranth enters the room, and so far he's doing a fairly good job of not seeming smug or satisfied at all that Dante's gotten himself into this position. No, he's far more interested in the folder full of case notes in his hands instead, as though Dante's presence is a mere afterthought. ]

No word from your attorney, then?

[ He doesn't take a seat just yet; he barely even lifts his gaze from the file to look at Dante as he speaks. He might have been watching from the other side of the two-way glass, but he still needs a bit to gauge the situation. ]

[darkinferno]

[It's actually a little bit surprising to Dante that Gabranth isn't pompously smug over Dante's presence in his interrogation cell. After all their previous interactions, he would've thought that the detective would be nothing short of satisfied to have found some rope to hang him with. But instead, Gabranth is businesslike, posing a simple question and looking to him for a simple answer.

All right.

Dante makes a show of looking at his bare wrist as though checking a watch, then looking around the interrogation room for a clock--not enough to be overtheatric, but enough to make it obvious what he's looking for.]

What attorney? I haven't called one yet. Haven't needed to, the way your boys pose their questions.

[He leans back in his chair, crossing one ankle over his knee in a casual manner.]

Who knows, maybe you can be the one to get me to say the magic words. How long do you give yourself in here?

[daemonized]

[It's not long after Ardyn received a somewhat worrying message from Prompto when he shows up to see what trouble Dante's been up to. The anxiety that had bubbled in his chest was thankfully lessened somewhat when he had arrived at the station, garnering vague details as to why he was being held. Not ideal, certainly -- but not nearly as bad as his imagination could have taken him without any real information.

Still, he often feels it's rare that the lawyer types are ever really welcome here, and this sentiment remains the same today. There's a clear irritation prevalent in the air, and Ardyn will find out soon enough that it's due to Dante's apparent flippant manner during questioning. (Not that he would at all be surprised.)

Regardless, when Ardyn enters the room, his tone has its usual flair of frivolity, but edged with seriousness.]

You must be trying particularly hard to get out of your reading assignments, Dante.

[darkinferno]

[Truth be told, there's actually no small amount of relief that Dante feels when the door opens and it's Ardyn that walks inside. Sure, he'd intended on giving him a call sooner or later, but it's a relief to know that Prompto's got his back and was able to come through for him. And now that Ardyn's here, they can get all of this taken care of and get him out of here, right?

Of course, this is Ardyn, which means that inevitably there's a certain amount of verbal sparring that has to happen first. Dante gives a single voiceless chuckle at his words, shrugging his shoulders.]

What can I say? I apparently do better with hands-on learning.

[And this is precisely the reason why all the officers are so irritated. Whoops.]

Was it Prompto who called you?

[darkinferno]

[He'd never say so aloud, but it takes longer than Dante had anticipated to get him officially released from the Recollé Police Department. Part of that's definitely due in part to Officer Furugawa's intense dislike of him--no computer system needs to be rebooted three times in order to process a simple release, right?--but part of it is because he might have miscalculated.

It's something that he'll only admit to himself, that yeah, he hadn't thought this all the way through. Togusa made that obvious enough when he'd been the one in the interrogation room, and though Dante's still not entirely sure if everything would have progressed as he proposed if Ardyn hadn't arrived to help him out, or if he hadn't finally agreed to talk to Togusa and give him the little information he had about Jamie's idea for the heist... it's not something he wants to know. It's a little too close for his taste to ruining his relative independence here in Recollé on his own. If his parents find out what happened...

There's a chill that goes down his spine at that idea, one he fights to keep from showing. He's not entirely certain what they'd be able to do, what with him being a legal adult and all, but he doesn't doubt for one second that there'd be repercussions of some sort.

But hey, that's not something he's got to worry about now, right? Walking out of the precinct with Ardyn and Prompto, he's a free man, nothing more than a misdemeanor charge for trespassing on his record. All's well that ends well and all that. Once they're clear of everything, Dante flashes a grin towards both of them, a lot more confident than he felt for a while there.]

Thanks, both of you. You really saved my ass back there.

[mercurio]

[to the grin, prompto smacks dante upside the head (hardly a death blow) and then locks his arm around dante's neck. is this roughhousing? this is roughhousing. prompto seems a little annoyed, but there's no malice to his actions nor words.]

I expect something more than a spoken 'thank you'! How about making up for keeping me in suspense since yesterday! I was worried sick!! --hey! I need compensation for my granola bar too!