Please Stop Dancing Immediately


amadeus_icon.gif aude_icon.gif calvin_icon.gif christine_icon.gif evan_icon.gif

Scene Title Please Stop Dancing Immediately
Synopsis Three variably innocent men are caught out in the cold just past curfew by two women in uniform.
Date November 24, 2010


It's cold and it's late and it's Calvin walking down the sidewalk alone with his ginger head down and the black collar of his peacoat turned up woolen at the back of his neck. There's another long coat under that — white, that one — and he's wearing shoes today. Shiny black ones to go with his slacks and his watch and his ssslightly nerdy (but fashionable?) waistcoat. Which is dark. Unlike the coat.

The white one under the peacoat, which is black.

At a distance the somewhat untamed mane of his hair may be cause for attention; without a closer look at the quality of his clothing, he looks like he could be a touch homeless. Especially from behind. And especially (especially) when he spots a non-descript brown paper bag on the sidewalk and glances both ways before crouching to inspect it more critically, as a grackle might.

There are no cheap-booze-type bags on Evan's person, and his hair and clothes are of a more normal variety— but look up close, and some frayed edges become visible. Still stubbornly lacking a registration card - and with the day imminently approaching that you can't take a cab or even the subway without one - he's been doing more walking ahead of time to get used to it, and his legs are complaining. A faint sheen of sweat reflects the light from the streetlamps overhead.

Wearing his black Yankees bat bag across his back, Amadeus has on his newly washed black AC/DC shirt, hands in his pockets as an old pair of matching Chucks treck down the street in Calvin's direction. Why is he out so late? Because he likes to loiter, and damnit, if his girlfriend is going to overreact to him wanting to sleep with strange women, he's gonna find a nice strip club. And not just any strip club, one of those strip clubs with hardcore bullet wounds and birth control patches visible on their thighs. A nice classy strip club.

Whooop whooop

Well that's the sound that you might get if Christine and Aude were in their NYPD-mobile, driving the streets. But it got parked because they got a call about a domestic dispute and now they're making a trip around the block since they don't have to bring anyone in. That and it's ticked riiiiiiiight onto curfew just. Like. That.

Around the corner come the two petite black women in their uniforms, boots, vests beneath their warm jackets and the other accoutrements that they're supposed to have, Aude smiling at something Christine said. They really aren't expecting anyone to be out, everyone either just getting in their doors or already behind them. So when there's three people on the street. That gets Christine a nudge from Aude's elbow and a jerk of her head to the three in question, waiting to see what they do.

It's nice when work provides plenty of warm clothing for you to wear, as it is for Christine and Aude. If the NYPD didn't provide warm clothes, they'd probably get a lot of complaints. Like…more than the usual amounts. Christine smiles and shakes her head, almost looking as if she's about to say something else…but then Aude nudges her. Looking about, she notices the three people that are walking down the same street that they just turned down. Sigh. And Christine was hoping for a relatively simple night. Although, it could still be, if these folks live nearby. Like Aude, she remains quiet for now, checking out said other people.

Calvin, inevitably, successfully rustles a promisingly-shaped glass bottle from the brown bag's contents, longish legs bent roach-like from the slant of his back while he sloshes the contents and squints at the color.

He doesn't twitch into a freeze until another shadow moves long across the curb ahead of him, and then another, Amadeus and Evan eyed each in their mistrustful turns until a further veer of his eyes across his shoulders picks up upon the pair of coppers. Both female, both watching.

Bottle retained mainly because he stands up too quickly to drop it without glass splintering like a gunshot without the rumble of car engines through the street to muffle it out, he starts to walk quickly, suspiciously away. Only to stop, hesitate, and turn back a few steps to place his plundered bottle into a trash bin. Like the only reason he's out here is to clean up the street a bit.

This close to deadline, if you're not already safely indoors, it's always good to know who's around. Evan glances over toward Amadeus for a moment, then checks his watch— crap, it's past deadline, and Belle Rock is still several blocks away. Thus distracted, he misses noticing Calvin - and, probably more importantly, the two cops who just showed up - as he steps up his pace as well. No hesitation, no scratching his head, just the image of a guy making a good-faith effort to not be part of the problem.

Amadeus doesn't know what time it is, he doesn't particularly care what time it is. When he spots the police, he immediately stops, then raises his shirt, and starts circling a finger around one of his nipples, swaying his hips like an exotic dancer.

"Shoot him"

Aude gestures to Amadeus. Christine knows she's not serious, but Amadeus has just made himself one of three individuals who are going to be scrutinized by the two cops. "He's yours, I'll get the other two. Try not to get your heart broken on him will ya?" Aude winks to Christine, striding forward. "Gentleman! All three of you. Could you please stop what you're doing and come on over here?" A finger point to Calvin, Evan and Amadeus. Christine of course, is getting stuck with Mr. Stripper.

Christine eyes the three men on the street. While the 'gentleman scholar' who so…generously threw away the bottle did catch her eye as curious, she goes a little blank eyed at the man who seems to think it would be a good idea to start stripping. She lets out a little, quiet laugh of disbelief as she looks over at her partner for the evening.

"Yeah, thanks. All I wanted tonight was a male stripper. How'd you know?" Christine rolls her eyes. She'll get Aude back for this later, if she can. Slowly approaching Amadeus, she holds up a hand as if to say 'stop'. "Sir? Can you please stop your dancing immediately?" Checking her watch quickly, she says, "Are you aware that's it's past curfew, sir?"

Stop — what? Staring in open-mouthed wonder after Amadeus? Putting the bottle in the bin? He already dropped it with a soft rustle and clink.

Evidently uncertain if she even means him, Calvin glances over his shoulder in a fidgety turn of his scruffy chin, left hand lifted to ask Me? and then down to bottle-already-in-bin — a muddled, This?

What with Christine and Amadeus not too terribly far away when he finally submits himself to trudging up the street to Aude, he's struggling not to grin by the time he gets there, wolfy teeth and bright eyes in the orange light. The coat he's wearing under his coat is a labcoat as it turns out, crisply cut, pens in his pocket to go with his hands once he's reached them in past the warmth of his peacoat. "S'there a problem, officer?"

Oh, crap. Two uniforms and three civilians, and they just had to call out all three at once. Why'd they have to be so ambitious? Well, if he makes a run for it now, then they're liable to shoot first and ask questions sixth. Instead, with a sign, Evan turns around and lifts his hands up into plain sight. Look, ma, no weapons. "I was just heading up to Broadway," he explains.

Calvin's rhetorical opening gets a brief nod… and he just stares blankly at Amadeus's antics. That's going to make this either a lot easier for him, or a lot harder for all of them, depending on what sort of mood the cops are in.

"No watch, babe." Amadeus drops his shirt, then holds up his hands to show his wrists. "And my girlfriend gets her panties in a bunch whenever I wanna bang other chicks, so maybe a guy likes giving some bored cop chicks a little nipple action, eh? 'Course it ain't cheatin' if it's a threeway with two cops, it's just obeyin' the law."

"Do you Gentlemen realize that the curfew is now in effect?" every night when she's out on beat, same old same old. People pushing the time, thinking they can stay a little longer and bam, they're late. Evan gives his destination, glancing at him, looking over to Christine to see whether she wants to let him go without a fuss or not. Calvins keeping quiet, bonus points for him. But Amadeus. There's another look to Christine, letting her take the lead.

Christine glances over at Calvin. "What's on Broadway, sir? Not like there's a show on right now." She says with a raised eyebrow. Of course, she knows there's a good chance that he lives either on or near Broadway. But can you blame her that comment? She's got Amadeus standing right in front of her. Amadeus, in fact, has her full attention again, and she shakes her head. He reminds her exactly of someone she went to high school with…and not in a good way. "Sir, have you been drinking this evening?"

"Oh. Ahhm…right…" Brows knit, Calvin glances to Evan and makes a small show of shaking out his left wrist importantly so that he can squint at his watch, glittery silver and crystal. "…Nnno, actually. But thank you. For the update." Breath huffed out against the cold at a turn and puff of light fog, Calvin rankles his nose against encroaching numbness and flicks his eyes sideways back to Amadeus and Christine. He is wearing eyeliner, upon closer inspection. With the hair and fine-ish clothing it's a touch much, really, but he seems lucid for all that his shifty attention span is roughly as slippery as Amadeus's nipples.

"I think he likes you," is his helpful contribution sideways to the other cop-and-curfew-breaker combo.

As it happens, Christine's good guess is not quite right; Evan actually lives partway across town. "There's a casino there," he explains, "I was planning to stay overnight." It's his own fault, letting himself be talked into trying a new place for dinner earlier. Should've just stuck with the Corinthian. There's an undercurrent of impatience in his tone of voice, now, still hoping that they'll wave him on and focus on one or both of the others instead.

"Nah, this is just my natural charm. I know it's a lot to handle, but…" Amadeus waves his hands, then holds them both out with two identical one numbers in each. "Give one of these to your hot little friend over there, then we can play cops and robbers later, I'll just get my girlfriend in on it and she won't feel left out. Gotta love some black chicks. Is it assault if I slap you on the ass?"

"Take him back to the ride, we'll run him in" Check his registration, check everything. Amadeus's behavior is irritating Aude and when she's irritated. Run. Speaking of which. Aude focuses on Evan. "Go. Walk fast. Remember to pay better attention to the time in the future, I would hate to have to run you in" Because it's a waste of time and usually they don't catch folks who need being caught.

Which leaves Calvin.

"Sir, can I see your ID?"

Christine eyes Calvin but holds her tongue. She's got other stuff to deal with. Namely Amadeus. She looks at him, unimpressed. Taking out her cuffs, she dangles moves to take his hands and lock them into said cuffs…assuming he doesn't resist, that is. "How about this? Let's play 'Follow the Police Officer'. Can you do that? I'm gonna take you to the car, and then…we'll have a little talk. It'll be super fun." And, assuming all has gone to plan, she starts to lead Amadeus to the police car.

The caprine scuff of gingery beard at the jut of Calvin's chin suits the irritation that glasses hard 'round his eyes nicely at Aude's 'request.'

It's fleeting. Mercurial. And most've all not very nice, like maybe Mr. Mystery Longcoat doesn't care very much for the po-lice.

But he reaches around for his wallet nonetheless, soft leather flapped open with an exaggerated flip that is almost certainly accompanied by a toss of his hair, if she happens to be paying attention. Also, a cranky sideways look after Evan, who gets to go free and clear. Teacher's pet.

"Don't you people have bigger fish to fry?" he opines (whines) meanwhile, one card thumbed shiny after another for her — Evolved Registration identifying him as Unmanifested Tier-0 Calvin Rosen and another with the Department of Homeland Security's seal casually on it, along with a photo that could've been taken an hour ago for all the difference in his general countenance. Toilette and queer affect are much the same. "There's no law against tweakin' your nipples."

Evan doesn't wait around to be told twice. Thank the little stoner over there for providing a distraction— and thank the cops for not taking out their aggravation on all three just because they can. And he still has no idea what Calvin is up to, as he's at the wrong angle to see the flash of government credentials. Turning back the direction he was headed in the first place, he continues onward at a jog, pausing only to catch himself with one hand as the next traffic light turns red on him.

"My girlfriend likes handcuffs." Amadeus grins, going along with her as if he's just very bored. "I've got my card in my pocket. So what're we gonna do? I heard you all got permission to do Steven Seagal stuff, like, you've got permission to do black belt stuff now. Karate law or whatever."

The ID's are taken, flashlight out to ensure she can see them good, flick it over the various ID's so that the security features triggers, flash a bit. DHS, un-manifested evo. The address given on the cards is noted, shuffled and filed away to be written down moment they get back to the car, at least the name for sure. Aude compares the pictures to the real think in front of her never once cracking a smile, preferring to scowl instead.

"Probably sir, but the whales aren't here, just you minnows and that guppy" By guppy, she means Amadeus. "Indecent exposure. Likely drunk and disorderly. His behavior is suspect. And unless you'd like to provide the same show for us and be run in for at least the first Mister Rosen" Calvin's ID's are handed back to him. "I urge you to get to your destination soon as possible. Maybe invest in a watch with your DHS salary. You're free to go" Flick goes her flashlight, turned off, watching Evan go before she too turns, so she can catch up with her partner and help with the running in of Amadeus.

"Your girlfriend may like handcuffs, sir, but she's not the one I've put in the cuffs." Christine says in a monotone voice. "Now, for the time being, you've got the right to remain silent. I suggest you exercise this right, sir." She'll process any ID Amadeus might have on him once they get into the station. When they get to the police car, which is currently around the corner, Christine opens the back door and maneuvers Amadeus into the seat. Once he's sufficiently inside the vehicle, she closes the door and moves to the hood of the car and sits on it, crossing her arms. Now to play the waiting game. Aude won't be that long, will she?

"You can call me Calvin," says Calvin, sass written bold into the furrow between his brows once he has his cards back and can shuffle them squirrelily safely back into his wallet, away from prying eyes and especially prying fingers. He does not point out that he is already wearing a watch, though, content to tread the fine line between irritating the police and pissing off the police, which it turns out is a jailable offense these days. And most every other day, really.

Already moving off to comply at a sideways slant that he presumably assumes will make it easier for him to run away if he needs to, he's sketchy enough to call out a warily sincere, if not all that directly helpful, "You'll be alright!" after Amadeus's handcuffed back end. Then a more private, “…Probably.”

"It's so fuckin' uncomfortable back here!" Amadeus lays back in his seat, cuffs uncomfortable, but he's been in this position before. "If you guys shared confiscated pot, your prisoners would be a lot calmer."

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