Doors

[Locked to Faust & Blue, separately]
Are you really here?

[Locked to Henry]
The necklace is beautiful, thank you.

[Right smack in the middle of the door]
[This is left on Dair Donovan's locker the day after they meet up.]

[As Jonathan K]

This seems like a disaster waiting to happen.

[Locked to Rachel K]

Sophia loved your gift. Thanks for including her. It means a lot to both of us.

[Thursday evening, a drug dealer with an extensive rap sheet is arrested in a filthy motel room, thanks to an anonymous tip. Not newsworthy in and of itself, of course - these things happen every day. His motel room is host to a cornucopia of controlled substances, and he is subsequently charged with possession with an intent to sell.

Through the course of this questioning, the dealer swiftly begins offering information, bad and good, to try to talk his way into a reduced sentence. Most of it is dismissed as coke fueled fantasies, but one sticks and is passed along for further investigation.

The dealer claims to have been contacted by a woman wealthy enough to make a drop for a kilo of coke in cash, a woman who indicated the coke would be distributed to high rollers. This woman had decided to use her connections to establish a regular business. They agreed on terms for an arrangement that would involve dead drops, cash on one side, drug on the other. It could have potentially been a long and fruitful relationship, but because of the timing of the dealer's arrest, only one drop was made. The coke was left in a bus station downtown, tucked into one of the lockers.

The security footage at the bus station shows a woman with dark hair, who briefly turns her face toward the camera, taking the parcel from the locker after obtaining the key from the attendant. No one seems quite sure how, but the news leaks out to the tabloids within a day or so, and by Friday afternoon, a blurry still from the black and white video showing the woman's upturned face is on the cover of every rag in town. DRUG BARON OF THE VEGAS ELITE? reads the headline.

The police, when asked, indicate they are merely following up on a lead, and will release further information when they have any to offer.]

[Private to Selina]
[After visiting with Muerte. Log in progress.]

Robin's dead. Tread carefully, meow face.

[Private to Crane]

You drink, strawman?

[Blake Thorne is sentenced on a Friday. His lawyers are all in attendance, as is his father, flown out from New York. The younger Thorne is noted in the press for not making eye contact with anybody but the judge, and is sketched looking drawn, dressed, uncharacteristically, in a suit. It's rumpled, though, and McQueen. He still has his self-esteem.

The sentence is eight months house arrest, with possible early release for good behavior. The list of approved locations is bound to be small, and he will wear an anklet for the duration. Regular drug and alcohol testing will be part of the sentencing, and failure to comply will result in an extended stay.

There are a few gasps from the court, and frowns from the lawyers, as much emotion as they can convey. Thorne doesn't seem to react at all, looking through just about everyone.

The projected outcome of the imprisonment is a reduced sentence, after the team of lawyers appeals the verdict and Blake proves he can behave himself. Three months, perhaps four. Still an eternity for a billionaire playboy, though, and the reporters are in an absolute paroxysm of glee. Nancy Grace even gives it a bit of air time. People reference OJ Simpson's conviction for grand theft - only right that he should get punished for something after all the suspicion surrounding that kidnapping and murder case. They might not have gotten him on the original charge, but one slip up now and it would be ten years, not a few throwaway months.

Blake is led from the court through a sea of screaming reporters with a laconic smile and not a single word. Not a one.]

[Batfamily+]

There's tea in the Manor kitchen and a new batch of shortbread. The lot of you are welcome to it.

[Bruce W]

Master Bruce. You must come out at some point.