Interlude: Militiavisits by Candlelight

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

Who: The staff and residents of the Valhalla Inn with a special guest appearance by the Militia.
What: A lock-down. A shake-down. Some questions.
Where: The Valhalla Inn. Different locations will be designated by different subthreads.
When: Early Coardi morning and into the afternoon.
Notes: OOC Discussion
Warnings: None yet, but expect (subtle) threats, coercion, and general jackboot'n'blackbag shenanigans.

Rumour travels fast in Baedal; soon everyone in Mog Hill and beyond will know that the Militia are at the Valhalla Inn and no one is getting out. Official word is that this is strictly routine; protocol dictates Arrival Houses be locked down for evaluation after a City-wide crisis. It's still early morning. Outside, the sun is rising after a night of gentle rain. Birds sing and gorge themselves on dead monkeys yet to be cleared away. It's going to be a beautiful day.

Meanwhile, inside Valhalla, the Militia have firmly requested that every guest, every employee and every incidental visitor gather in the Common Room as they search the rest of the Inn. The proprietor and her staff are visibly unhappy about the event, but the closest they have come to voicing dissent is managing to call for the Sheriff. Still, so far the gentleman who seems to be in charge of the proceedings has been nothing but curtly polite. The Militia works fast; they have gone through the whole place in less than an hour and are now, as they say, ready to take interviews. These will be conducted one-on-one in a different room of the Inn. Most individuals who arrived after the creature invasion are sorted out and escorted outside of the building. Some, however, are not.

None of the Special's agents or their more thuggish companions say so, at least not out in the Common Room, but it is evident that their search turned up something.

Comments

Meanwhile, the Common Room

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

The Common Room is pretty crowded, but eerily quiet as most people in there hope to avoid the attentions of the Militia men and women who watch over the room. Conversations are still conducted, mostly held in whispers and careful gestures. As long as there is nothing overtly hostile about these, the Militia does little to discourage them.

Re: Meanwhile, the Common Room

[seal_clubs_you]

Well, this is an interesting position to be in. Usually in the past, when an armed group has been locking down a facility, Mike's been on the other side of things. He's actually dressed in his fatigues at the moment -- or, well, the pants and an olive drab t-shirt, his dog-tags visible. That he's armed is much less visible, and a point of uneasy concern for him. But he'll deal with it.

He listens, and watches, as unobtrusively as he can. This is a chance for him to get a better sense of the local politics, and he intends to make the most of it.

[tothelibrary.livejournal.com]

Dawn's not thrilled by a lockdown on her first day. In fact, she's actually somewhere in the no-man's land between terrified and really pissed off, but since she's still new and (as far as she's aware) stranded completely alone without anyone she knows, passive sitting and stewing it is.

She's just going to practice the chair watching and then snatching skills she picked up waiting around at LAX, then snag said chair and fold her legs underneath her, trying to look completely unassuming while taking everything in.

[tothelastbreath]

Some distance away from the quiet buzz of conversation, near a corner of the room but not exactly in it, stands Allen with his arms folded loosely across his chest. His eyes never stop roaming the room, but unlike most, perhaps, he's paying more attention to his fellow boarders than the Militia personnel guarding them all.

If anyone looks upset, like they might appreciate some company while waiting, or (god forbid) like they're about to challenge the Militia, Allen will more than likely approach them. Until then, he'll be keeping a low profile.

Re: Meanwhile, the Common Room

[wandandsickle]

Jones is and always has been a morning person, and was already downstairs reading the newspaper by the time the Militia stormed in. After inquiring quietly and learning that, yes, she's going to be here a while, until this gets sorted out, she figures there's nothing for it but to settle in and get some knitting done.

Although this does provide an interesting opportunity, in that it gathers the majority of the residents of the Valhalla in one place at a time. She's not before seen this much of the cohort assembled at once, and, after having run into a handful of interestingly colorful individuals in the last few days, she's curious what other sorts of folk are counted among their number. So she keeps an interested eye out as the rest of the Valhalla's denizens trickle in.

[deservesadaisy]

Ivan pretended to be human well, when he put some effort behind it, and he'd decided it might be amusing to see where the evening would take him. He was wandering through the common room, every inch the rich gentleman mildly inconvenienced by the work of law enforcement.

He might have to fight, but he was going to try playing this subtly first.

Re: Meanwhile, the Common Room

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

Boromir is as nonchalant and inconspicuous as a very tall warrior can be. He's standing somewhere out of the way and leaning against a wall slightly, arms crossed more out of something to do than any real guardedness. He doesn't appear to be particularly afraid or nervous, having reasoned that this was a tactical decision, although whether or not it was a good one remains to be seen (what does he have to fear, anyway? Dying again?) But the mood in the room has left him slightly wary. Mostly he watches, silently, letting on to those he knows if they pass by him.

[fixedroll.livejournal.com]

Arthur is brand new, neatly dressed, and seems to exist in a state of perpetual frowning, if this week has been any indication so far—events like this one don't exactly make him feel any more at ease over here. As soon as a chair becomes available nearby, he occupies it, folds his arms across his chest and proceeds to look rather like he's sulking. (He isn't.)

[dailymask.livejournal.com]

Eames has found himself a chair to slouch in, his head propped against one hand. While he is by no means a morning person – much less a pre-dawn person – truthfully the adrenaline took care of that easily enough, and now that he is awake and alert, he has no intention of looking it. Once or twice he rubs his eyes and sighs, just for effect.

What he doesn't appear to be, however, is nervous. He's chosen a seat not particularly near or far from Arthur, as if he doesn't know the other man at all and only came in behind him because their rooms happened to be next door to one another, and he certainly isn't banking the future of his chosen career on the hope that he found a terrific place to hide a certain briefcase.

[hurricane-james.livejournal.com]

While the sheriff had been expecting a Militia lockdown, he never actually enjoyed the process. Still, it he considered it his duty to come out to the Inn and, at the very least, act as an observer.

Should anyone wish to come talk, complain, throw objects at the local law enforcement, they are welcome to do so.

[warped-inside.livejournal.com]

For someone used to flying not so much under the radar as so far outside of it that the work she did was completely disavowed the government, being caught in the midst of a militia crackdown isn't the most comfortable thing. She leaves Integra's shotgun under her bed, hoping they won't be confiscating weapons, and finds a corner of the common room to sit in where she can watch and wait.

At least they're not being herded into cells. This kind of thing, Tosh can handle. She's not so sure about being locked up again.

Meanwhile, The Interview Room

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

It's the Inn's back office, stacks of folders and papers line cabinets and an overcrowded bookcase, but the floor in the middle has been cleared. There are two chairs in here, one of them meant for the interviewee, the other for the Special in charge of the situation. He looks to be gentle older sort, light skinned and most likely human. The magically inclined may note a harmonious void where they would otherwise get a read on this man.

Re: Meanwhile, The Interview Room

[seal_clubs_you]

When it's Mike's turn to be interviewed, he enters the room calmly and nods to the waiting man. He is treating this a bit like the times he's been loaned to, or questioned by, NATO forces or the like. So, as in those cases, the first thing he does is identify himself.

"Lieutenant Michael Anders, United States Navy." There's a pause and then he tacks on something that he's never had to say before in these situations. "Earth."

Re: Meanwhile, The Interview Room

[lily-schlaflied.livejournal.com]

Shiori makes her way into the room quietly, closing the door behind her gingerly. She doesn't look down at the floor, but she doesn't meet the Special's. She stands beside the seat, smiling nervously, unsure of what to do next. After a moment of silence, she speaks. "Hello. It's nice to meet you. I'm Shiori...ah, it's so strange to speak English. I feel like I don't know what I'm saying, but I do."

[toooldforlosing]

Raylan was quiet and observant in the common room; not sullen, but a little detached.

When it's his turn, he comes in without fuss, but he can't try to hide the nonverbal tells that scream "law enforcement," and he doesn't try to. He's unsmiling but not defensive.

Re: Meanwhile, The Interview Room

[wandandsickle]

Jones is called, and she only pauses to tuck her knitting into her purse before following the militiaman who came to get her into the back office. She gives a brief nod to the man who looks like he's in charge here, and takes a seat. "I'm Jones," she says.

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Hellboy doesn't live in the Inn anymore, but he had borrowed a book from its library that he hadn't had time to finish reading until after he'd moved out and then spent a week fighting monsters, so he gets caught in the lockdown while returning it. He sends out a quick text to Integra -- FYI, V.Inn in Mil. lockdown. --HB -- then settles in and waits.

When it comes his time, he goes peacefully and quietly. He unslings Excalibur, scabbard and all, from his back and sets it down next to the chair before sitting down himself. "Hi," he says, calmly and pleasantly, "my name's Hellboy." This is, it may not be too difficult to guess, by no means his first debriefing interview.

[fixedroll.livejournal.com]

It seems this young gentleman, too, is familiar with this particular flavour of interview, and having entered the room he does nothing new without prompt, including closing the door or availing himself of the second chair. He's not waiting at attention, exactly, but with good posture and a dispassionate air nonetheless.

(No overly formal three-piece today; only his dress shirt and slacks.)

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

Eddie is cooperative when it's his turn to go in, and while he is not at all relaxed, he seems like he's in a good mood to get called on. He is very curious, and nervous and smiley. He knows he hasn't done anything, and isn't supposed to do anything, and that is such a shame, because now he gets to see what he'd be up against.

He goes with habit, from the asylum. He smiles and clasps his hands in front of himself, and waits to be addressed and told to sit. He's good, you know.

[dailymask.livejournal.com]

By the time he's called into the interview room, Eames is looking substantially less shirty about all this. The steam seems to have run out of his initial irritation. What's left is a subdued impatience, as if he'd had his feathers ruffled by the rude awakening but, lacking any particular reason for hostility, is having difficulty maintaining it. (There's some truth to that impression, but not much.)

He enters without undue drama, giving the man at the table a mild, expectant look.

[tothelastbreath]

Fresh out of one ― what's that word they're using for it here? ― interview and straight into another on a whole new world. The irony of his situation does not escape Allen as he enters the room without fuss, presenting the Militiamen with what is probably the youngest face they'll see today. He comes to stand by the chair, carrying himself with a practiced sort of good posture quite uncommon in youngsters nowadays, and a collected air that doesn't speak so much of calmness than simple readiness.

"Hello―" The briefest pause. "―sir. How may I help you?"

[warped-inside.livejournal.com]

Tosh knows better than to take it for granted that looking like a genial-looking older man means the person is what he appears to be. So she takes a seat, calm but wary, and waits for the questions to begin.

[alan_shore]

Enter Alan, clad in a fine-looking suit (he'd spent perhaps more of his new arrival's windfall on having it cleaned than was wise) that at the moment serves only to further emphasize its wearer's rather rumpled state. Without hesitation he steps into the room and surveys the setup, his expression scrupulously neutral.

"Tell me, when did doing this kind of thing in the dead of night fall out of fashion?" he says in tones of polite inquiry.

Meanwhile, The Guest Rooms

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

The time of the lockdown is meant to startle newcomers into compliance as many of them have their sleep is interrupted by sudden knock to their door from a pair of uniformed Militiamen.

"Get dressed and get out of your rooms. Leave your belongings behind and they will be returned to you. Please, head toward the Common Room to wait," they call in turn as they go down the hallways, checking CiD identification, and shepherding people along. "Do not be alarmed, this search is standard protocol and for your own safety."

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

Her own safety? Right. Cindy believes this as much as a Mundy would believe that she really exists, which is not at all. And with as little sleep as she really needs, it's funny how cranky she can get when the amount she does get is interrupted. Or so she would like people to believe. She's just usually cranky from simply being told what to do by somebody who doesn't hand her a wad of cash. Cinderella does not deal well with strange uniformed men.

So just as she opened the door unceremoniously for the Militiamen, Cindy closes, no, slams it, hoping that it's enough for them to go fuck off and that it gives her enough time to double check and see that her gun is loaded and ready.