It wasn't supposed to be like this. No it wasn't supposed to be like this. Red-brown eyes darted around as he looked at the stone walls that held him. He was seated in a chair, handcuffs secured around his wrists. What was the last thing he even remembered? He had to figure out a way out of here. He didn't like this. His lips parted as he focused on the blinking red light of the camera in the corner. He thus was alone in the room-- but how long until he was joined by someone else. This wasn't meant to be how life was meant to be. Sure being on the run from Rudger hadn't been ideal, but he had gotten through the tough time. So why wouldn't life give him a break?
His voice rosed slightly. He was a smart thing, but it didn't mean that he always kept that head upon his shoulders and used his brain to think of the right thing to do or say in said situation. Well, more so what not to do. No, instead he did exactly what he should not be doing. The sad thing was, he actually didn't know the reason why he found himself in the wonderful building that was the police station of downtown western Chicago. He saw at this point that perhaps the cops just had it out on him.
If one was to look at his appearance they would notice the bloody knuckles , from punching a few walls. A slight bruising along his index and middle knuckle signally a slight fracture, a sign showing he could have broken his hand if he had continued. The blood was still slightly fresh too, signally he hadn't been in this room for a good time at all. His brown locks were all tousled around , slightly even matted with blood-- though was his own or someone else's? He could hear the slight clack of shoes before the door knob turned and the door opened. Finally. He stood up
The man went to push him down roughly, it rather hurt. The sound of his cuffs clanking at the rough movement.
The man laughed. He didn't like him at all, the man was looking down on him. Yes, looking down on him. He didn't like those words at all.
And that was how he was roughly and rudely escorted out of that room. Handcuffs clanking as he was forced down the long walk of shame and forced into some cell. That was when things would only get worse. It felt almost as if the walls were closing in on him. How was he caught anyways? It all happened on a job, they had doubled crossed him. He had just been in it for the money. Bounty hunting was dangerous but did pay well. Yet this was the first time anything like this had happened to him. Yet someone had been called for him, a lawyer who would represent him for this trail. He paced his cell, thankfully he didn't have a roommate. His eyes flickering from spot to spot, almost as if each shadow he thought moved was after him. The male wasn't the sanest and the last four years hadn't been the kindest on him. In fact, there was more to Damien than met the eyes.
@Chrys
"Oi come on. I didn't do anything, so why am I being detained this time?!"
His voice rosed slightly. He was a smart thing, but it didn't mean that he always kept that head upon his shoulders and used his brain to think of the right thing to do or say in said situation. Well, more so what not to do. No, instead he did exactly what he should not be doing. The sad thing was, he actually didn't know the reason why he found himself in the wonderful building that was the police station of downtown western Chicago. He saw at this point that perhaps the cops just had it out on him.
If one was to look at his appearance they would notice the bloody knuckles , from punching a few walls. A slight bruising along his index and middle knuckle signally a slight fracture, a sign showing he could have broken his hand if he had continued. The blood was still slightly fresh too, signally he hadn't been in this room for a good time at all. His brown locks were all tousled around , slightly even matted with blood-- though was his own or someone else's? He could hear the slight clack of shoes before the door knob turned and the door opened. Finally. He stood up
"Bloody finally, someone comes to actually speak to me rather than just watching me like some trained animal in a cage."
The man went to push him down roughly, it rather hurt. The sound of his cuffs clanking at the rough movement.
"Damien Voss, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be used against you. I am aware your rights were already read to you, but seems that you might have forgotten about proper manners. Though it just so happens that someone just might be looking out for you."
"So that means you are going to release me?"
The man laughed. He didn't like him at all, the man was looking down on him. Yes, looking down on him. He didn't like those words at all.
"Maybe. All depends on how your trial goes. Afraid you should get comfortable, princess. You are going to be detained. Finally getting to lock you up and take you off the streets. After all those complaints-- finally we got something on you. Something enough to hold you. You have no idea.... how much this makes me happy."
And that was how he was roughly and rudely escorted out of that room. Handcuffs clanking as he was forced down the long walk of shame and forced into some cell. That was when things would only get worse. It felt almost as if the walls were closing in on him. How was he caught anyways? It all happened on a job, they had doubled crossed him. He had just been in it for the money. Bounty hunting was dangerous but did pay well. Yet this was the first time anything like this had happened to him. Yet someone had been called for him, a lawyer who would represent him for this trail. He paced his cell, thankfully he didn't have a roommate. His eyes flickering from spot to spot, almost as if each shadow he thought moved was after him. The male wasn't the sanest and the last four years hadn't been the kindest on him. In fact, there was more to Damien than met the eyes.
@Chrys
