ten_fwd | [Brig:] April Fools' Arrests

Current Location: Deck 33: Room #5244, Brig

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[Brig:] April Fools' Arrests

It's not very often a passenger is taken to Deck 33, and for good reason. Deck 33 is where the brig is located. If you're unlucky enough to find yourself there, you'll notice that there are security officers standing guard outside the brig, as well as one stationed inside. The cells are separated by forcefield to prevent further incident between prisoners, and while it looks and sounds like there is no barrier between the cells and the room at large, there is no crossing over until the forcefields are lowered.

There have been incidents on the ship before, isolated ones and minor infractions, but this is a whole new ballgame. Q's latest game has wreaked havoc among the passengers, turning even the most polite among them into disturbers of the peace, in ways both small and — regrettably and dangerously — large. Security has been scrabbling to keep up (the ones who weren't affected by the events themselves, that is), but it's safe to say the brig has never been this full before.

Should a passenger make an inquiry after someone at one of the computer terminals, or access the directory on their PADDs, if the person they're looking for is here their location will be noted as 'BRIGGED' in bold font. Visitors are allowed entrance after they check in with the guards on duty, but no one is allowed to be alone with the prisoners. Once the prisoners are back to normal, they will be released.

Assuming they cause no further mischief, of course.

[ooc: Bit of a delayed OTA brig log for those who were requesting one. More info here.]

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He'd arrived more than a little battered and bruised - though if he was honest, his pride was more injured than his body. Well, pride and vanity - the forcefield was barely closed behind him and he was trying to comb his hair back into something a little more polished, using his fingers to tidy his beard.

And, of course, studying the brig.

Though after an hour, he's left terribly bored.

[Still mirrored]
Shotaro was pissed. How could he be in there when the real danger was still going free? "Hey! If you're going to lock me up, you should go grab that Sonozaki too! He's probably going to do something that blows a hole in the wall and then what, huh?!" he shouted, as close to the forcefield as he could manage without zapping himself.

After a while of more shouting and complaining, he dropped in a huff onto the cot and scrubbed at his hair. "Ah... it's useless..." he started looking over the forcefield emitters. Maybe a few good kicks would do the trick. He got up and started doing just that.

[After reverting]
At first, Shotaro was confused about why he was in here. But then, racking his memory yielded the info he was looking for. It was, simply, embarrassing. Tagging the walls like that, representing Fuuto-kun in that way, all of it. Completely unsuiting a proud detective of Fuuto. He's glad the Boss didn't get to see it.

If he was back to normal, then maybe Philip was too. And he'd made a fool of himself to a few other people as well. Theoretically he'd be released once he explained he had his head back on straight again, but he supposed he had some sins to count up first. He laid back on the cot and settled his hat over his face.

[PL with Philip]

Emma was there a couple hours after his incarceration. If she wasn't quite sure he was a different man she wouldn't have been surprised. Michael, for all his flaws, seemed much more stable than Erik. It was a blessing and a miracle that the ship was still intact and his opponent as well.

She paused before his forcefield, eying him for a moment. "You've been here a few days and you're already in trouble. Tch." She shook her head but a small smile tugged at her mouth. "How long are you incarcerated? Have they examined your injuries yet?" How these people treated their prisoners would tell them all a lot about the nature of their character.

He was more stable - which is likely the one reason the altercation stopped when it did.

"Just a minor misunderstanding." There's an accent there, heavily Israeli. It's his natural voice - something he'd reverted to within hours of arriving. His counterpart had spoken with as little an accent as he could, Michael at attempted to copy the habit - but he was long out of practice, and frankly, didn't care if people knew where he was from. Still, he returned the smile, stretching with a shrug. He wanted to sit but, as far as he knew, most here didn't have any idea of the scope of his powers. If it seemed he was stuck here, that would change. In the meantime, he'd continue the dance the other had laid out.

"They haven't said yet." But it wouldn't be long or he'd free himself. He disliked the cell, any cell, even if it wasn't to the point of a phobia - that likely only due to therapy. "Just a cursory look, they aren't serious. Someone from the medical staff will be down though."

Emma knows a thing or two about getting rid of an accent. Nothing sounds more garish in a room full of overly caffeinated Californians like someone chewing out the words 'wicked pisser' in regard to anything. Israeli isn't an accent she recognizes immediately, but it's enough to know that he's still from somewhere else.

When he said that he hadn't been sentenced she was somewhat surprised. "Hmm," Emma noted, her expression turning to disapproval as she looked around for someone in charge. "I suppose it's some manner of energy keeping you contained." Her assumption was that it would be pointless and his presence there was a courtesy. "I expected less of you, no matter which version of you is dominant." It's almost a compliment, if you squint. She would side with him over the crew unless she knew that he was in the wrong.

He'd had to rid himself of it, back when he was doing field work in South America - but after Isabelle was injured, his cover had been too compromised to go back to what he'd been doing. It hadn't mattered then.

Michael himself wasn't surprised - part of what he'd taken advantage of, or tried to, was the low level chaos humming through the ship right now. "I do believe the dear captain is a tad preoccupied, I wouldn't judge him too harshly." He was being patient - playing the lost foreigner card would help, he was sure, as would a 'sincere' apology for causing trouble and disorder. He was glad for the time to plot his answer, really. Michael reached out, hand not quite touching the forcefield. "Hm. Lovely little forcefield in this direction. Otherwise it's merely walls." His voice was kept low, so as not to carry. "I take the version of me you know is a bit more inclined towards shaking the pot?" He means 'stirring the pot' but English is a language Michael as less practice in - at this point he often goes months without speaking it, or longer.

"Know is a strong word, but there is a version that I am somewhat used to. I worked with him in Genosha." She says the last word softly, like it's the name of a child sleeping in the same room. It's the most respect she can show at the moment. Thinking about it bothers her, even if it's not really her memory.

Out of curiosity Emma began to examine the cell. "The nice thing about the future is all the delicious technology. I simply must corner a member of engineering and get them to talk my ear off. Nerds still like pretty women and alcohol in the future, I assume."

Jim had expected a number of things upon finding himself arriving on this ship in the future. He'd expected to wake up for one, but that never happened, so he started working on adjusting. He was doing pretty well, he thought, until he happened upon Khan.

His head is still buzzing, partly from having his ass kicked five ways from Sunday, and the fact that before the one guy with the shield had stepped in, Khan had him on his back with a hand squeezing his throat. Jim might have gotten his ass kicked, but at least Khan had something to show for it too.

Boy, that had pissed the other guy off. And surprised Jim. It was weird.

He doesn't struggle as he's led to the brig, steps into the cell (not his first time by any means), and reaches up after the forcefield activates to rub at his already bruising neck. He's pretty sure that pop to the jaw is swelling up and going to be a lovely color later too. Well, nothing to do now but wait.

He heads over to the bench and slumps down, letting his head fall back against the bulkhead.

"So, is this you getting into trouble because of principles or being you were doing something stupid? Or something stupid that seemed like a good idea. Or something that might look stupid, but you have a totally brilliant explanation for it?"

It probably says a lot that while Gaila is standing there with her arms crossed, she doesn't even sound annoyed. It's Jim. She knows him.

She'll get judgey later, if there's good reason.

"Maybe a little of everything?" He offers, not opening his eyes yet. His jaw hurts, his mouth stings still, and his throat is tender from nearly having the life choked out of him.

"For the record, I tried to just call security. Khan is the maniac who decided he wanted to pummel me into the deck. I was just defending myself."

Which isn't untrue. Jim's still pretty damn pleased that he popped him hard enough to break his nose. Man, that felt good. He hopes it hurts.

Of all the things that could have happened on board this Enterprise, Jim Kirk winding up in the brig wasn't one of the things that surprised him. In all honesty, he was surprised that it took this long to happen.

He made his way to the brig and sat in a chair near the front of Jim's cell, "At least there aren't napkins hanging out of your nose this time."

Yeah, you know, he's tried to work on that. He'd daresay he's gotten a little better since the Enterprise got underway for her five year.

He heard the doors open, and heard someone sit before he cracked his eyes open to see Pike sitting down in front of the cell. Oh, now this was certainly familiar. It surprises him, the laugh that comes up from deep in his chest, and tumbles out of his mouth in the form of a chuckle. His mouth burns at the split where Khan's knuckles had hit when he grins widely.

"Oh," he reigns himself in, voice still a bit rough from Khan's attempt to choke the life out of him, and starts to speak. "No, but the other guy could maybe use a few. The other guy being Khan."

So, Jim Kirk decided to beat the hell out of an augmented human. That was probably not the smartest choice of things to do.

"Do I want to know what started it?"

He was going to ignore that cocky smile. Pike hadn't asked about the specifics of the incident from security, as he usually preferred to hear Jim's version of events first.

He nodded, jaw tightening with an inhale that managed to be sharp and slow all at once as she mentioned Genosha. They weren't his memories either, but they still hurt. It was something he was glad hadn't been something they'd needed to address in his own.

He reached forward, not quite touching the barrier. "Oh it's something. I have some that makes this look like children's toys but some is quite interesting. Would be useful. Though real alcohol is a bit hard to come by here. Not impossible, but it's a rare bird."

Technically, no. The Augmented human decided to beat the hell out of him. Jim just got a lucky hit in.

"Me existing, apparently," he offers, tone wry. "I just rounded a corner and there he was without his detail. I told him to go find them. He refused. I called Security, and then he attacked me."

Come on, you love that smile. It's the smile that launched dozens of apologetic emails to various parties, right?

"I'm sure he isn't the first one to start a fight because of that." Pike was kidding, mostly. On some level, that had to be true.

Though the rest of it made sense, he supposed and at least he didn't have to fill out all of the paperwork for this.

"Pretty sure it's not the first time somebody wanted to do it cause I just exist either." There was this girl's brother when he was like 16. It was awful. He couldn't go back to that bar again after that.

He clears his throat softly, wincing only a little as it protests having done it.

"Someone needs to do something about him. He's not about to back down and fall into line with a two-man security detail, Admiral." It's less the guy that defiantly asked if Khan wanted to call it quits after Jim blooded his nose, and more the man whose grown into that Captain's chair he was rather abruptly taken away from.

"He's fully capable of tearing this ship and her crew apart with his bare hands. The only thing that stopped him from taking me out was some guy with a shield who happened to come around a corner at the right time."

If he hadn't, Jim's positive he would have died for a second time in his life.

Pike was surprised at the change of attitude from Jim. This was the man he wanted to see in his office after the volcano incident. The Captain who could take responsibility for his actions, not the cadet that was lucky enough to get a gold uniform.

"I can talk to the captain. I'm sure they have a Khan here, though he might not be quite as volatile as the one from our universe."

Hey, Jim's full of those, surprises that is. He's had a year or so in between the last time Pike saw him and vice versa. A lot happened. A lot changed. He changed with it. He still has doubts, sometimes, but then he remembers Pike told him once that if he didn't have those then he probably didn't want him in that chair to start.

Jim nods. And--yeah, they have a Khan here. Jim knows snippets of information, really. Most of it from Spock Prime in more ways than him just breaking his vow of silence about the destinies of the Enterprise and her crew. "Good."

The last thing he wants is to put innocent people in the path of a man who can crush people's skulls with his bare hands. Not for the first time is he thinking that his being here has suddenly caused more problems than he's worth. Khan might have simply prowled around and ditched his guard for his own amusement had he not run into Jim. He still remembers the way he hissed out a you as they came upon the other.

His reaction is noted but not surprising. It would be more surprising if he didn't react to that mess. The memories weren't hers, but the heartache and fear they inspired were.

The subject of alcohol on the Enterprise was much more interesting conversation. "Are you saying I'm not intoxicating?" Emma asked coyly, giving Michael a smirk. "Beside, we both know that intoxication is just brain chemistry which I could easily alter. I would, however, do what someone asked for a gin martini right now. I've been in desperate need of a drink since my arrival. If you were not in the brig I would say the same applies to you."

She straightens, her bright blue eyes first narrowing at him and then flicking around the room to see which cell Khan's in. He's told her about Khan: the man being here is...more than a little disquieting. For a host of reasons.

"Well, I'm gonna assume that you being here and not in medbay means you're not badly hurt," she starts, the concerned fondness in her voice clear, then stops.

"You okay?"

To be honest, Pike's not entirely sure that this Federation is prepared to handle something as violent as Klingons, let alone an augmented human with a vendetta. The universe where he and Jim were from had some similarity, but there were a lot of differences. Namely, their Federation was preparing for a war.

"I imagine he's still dangerous. Though probably not in the same way."

They might not be ready for the Klingons, but Jim doesn't know enough yet to make a call on that. Things, at least, don't seem as tense here as they were back home. But Khan is a different story, and here, with no family to speak of, he may be far more volatile. Far more inclined to rock the proverbial boat.

Especially if he so easily attacked Jim after ditching his security escort.

The war with the Klingons, unfortunately, did seem far more inevitable after Section 31's latest antics. Not to mention their actions which destroyed a Romulan fleet, which was now another front they had to keep a closer eye on.

"I just don't want to see more people get hurt on account of him."

He sees her straighten, and look around. From his cell, he hadn't been able to see which one he'd been put in. But he knows Gaila, and he knows that look. He pushes himself up to his feet, using what restraint he has to not make a mad dash for the barrier of the forcefield.

"Don't get near him, okay? I can't stress how dangerous he is, Gaila." It isn't just what happened to him. It isn't just what he might do if given the opportunity. And he's definitely concerned about Khan learning of all the people on this ship that he cares about. If something happens to her---

"Well, outside of not looking all that pretty for a few days, I'll be fine. He was busy trying to strangle the life out of me when some guy came along with a shield and played pinball with him." It was---kind of hilarious actually.

"I'll be fine. I've, uh---heh, had worse."

Yeah, he totally just went there.

The indignity of being dragged, half-stumbling, to the brig isn't lost on Khan, but he's in little position to seethe over it. His head is still ringing from the final blow, vision wavering and unfocused. When they finally (and unceremoniously) drop him into a familiar cell, it's a relief to not be moving. The barrier flickers to life, and Khan spares it a single hateful glance before pulling himself up and onto the spartan bed, tipping his head back against the wall and letting his eyes fall shut.

He's never had a concussion before. He's not finding himself in a hurry to repeat the experience.

By the time the disturbing, groggy confusion in his head begins to recede, his broken nose has healed itself. Small mercies, he supposes, but doesn't move. Not just yet. It won't be long, he's sure, until someone in authority makes their way down here - until then, he'll wait. (And recover.)

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[Brig:] April Fools' Arrests

Last day of the event, arriving about midafternoon

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pre-event post altercation with khan

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Post-getting his ass beat by Steve