Davian Rivera-Triádhos (antitestament) wrote in st_margarets, @ 2014-06-27 20:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: davian rivera, location: camden police station |
Narrative: Not Yet Absconding
WHO: Davian
WHEN: Saturday morning
WHERE: Camden Police Station
NPC: Parole Officer Pelletier, Carl Libby
Officer Pellet Ears, as Davian referred to him, was sitting across the desk from him filling in some paperwork.
The witch, Carl Libby, or Mr. Lippy, according to Davian, was standing to one side, his eyes on the demon.
Davian was slouched down on his chair, knees bent and feet flat on the floor with his head resting against the wooden backrest. There was a steady tick-tock of the demon's tail dangling over the floor.
It was all routine. Every Saturday morning he reported to Officer Pelletier to be interviewed on how well he was doing with his parole and integrating into human society. The witch came to keep an eye on things in case the demon were to try anything dangerous or untoward against the human peace officer. Davian rolled his eyes over to the witch and raised an eyebrow.
"Take a picture, man. It'll last longer and, bonus, you can use it when your wife stops putting out because you're putting on too much weight."
"Shut your damn mouth, or I'll shut it for you." Mr. Libby warned, the threat of magic imminent. "Again."
Sinking down in his chair even more, Davian looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Sure, pudgy."
The PO finally glanced up from his paperwork and began the mandatory questions. Was he using drugs? No. Drinking alcohol? No. Had he had any police contact? No. Was he still attending and living at the Academy? Yes. Was he remaining within the jurisdiction of his parole? Yes. The questions kept continued until it started to wind down.
"How are you getting along with the people you live with?"
It was a temptation every week to abscond and blow off these interviews just for that one question. Davian closed his eyes and didn't answer for a moment. The Parole Officer prompted again: "How are you getting along with the people you live with?"
"Great," Davian responded, his jaw flexing. "Really great. Tons of friends, no problems, we have fun." He opened his eyes and tipped his head forward, meeting the gaze of Officer Pelletier and his tiny ears. "You know me, Officer. I get along with everyone." Smirking, Davian laid his head back against the chair and let out a sigh, shifting as though he were about to fall asleep.
The PO shook his head and wrote down notes, finishing the interview a few minutes later with a handshake and a 'see you next week'. The witch escorted Davian out.