Jul 07, 2020 3:56 PM
Salmons and Tyrians in Objects
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Yeong receives a call. Her daughter, it transpires, was caught attempting to sneak into the Argent residence. She got quite a ways in before she was found by the eccentric millionaire's security, and both they and officers of the law were unable to extract how she did it from her. From the exasperated tone of voice of the officer who called her, Yeong could just picture the smug look her daughter must've had on her face while being interrogated, or as close to that as a minor could be.

She sighs and walks into the police station.

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It smells of freshly copied paper and less freshly brewed coffee.

It doesn't look very busy, with a deputy sitting at one of the many desks; the rest are empty.

The Sheriff is waiting for her at the front desk.

"Ms. Jiang? You're here for your daughter?"

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"Yes, indeed, sheriff."

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"Your daughter has been a bit of a handful for the department. Ms. Argent might not press charges, but she's not making it easy on herself."

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Yeong sighs. "She can be like that."

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"I don't think I can talk her into taking this seriously, but someone should. If she looks like she feels sorry for doing it, that helps. We always want to see remorse, even with minors and even with theft. And so will Ms. Argent."

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She nods. "I should talk to her. She'll listen to me. I'm very, very sorry about all of this."

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"Do you have any idea what she wanted to steal? She got pretty far, and Ms. Argent suspects she had help. Anything I can do to reassure her...it would help us calm things down if we at least knew if she worked alone."

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She shakes her head. "Knowing my daughter, she probably just wanted to prove to herself she could, after learning about all the security measures in place. I don't think she would've taken anything."

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"Ms. Argent regularly falls prey to rival gangs who want to steal her things- kind of an initiation they do. This looks a lot like that." 

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She blinks slowly. "May I talk to my daughter? This... doesn't sound like her, but..."

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Meanwhile, outside the holding cells, stands this kid.

He's currently chatting with the guy in the cell next to Kaede, insulting his dress sense. 

Something about leather and sending mixed signals. 

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The guy is giving the kid only vague monosyllabic answers.

"What mixed signals, exactly?" Kaede eventually decides to butt in and ask.

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"It can give a guy the wrong idea about what you're into."

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"Oh? What idea is it giving you, that he's into?"

Leather guy rolls his eyes.

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"Killing, skinning, and tanning animals. Riding as part of a motorcycle gang. Subversive fashion statements."

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"What if it's the right idea, though?"

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"Which one? If he had a bike, or a collar, or a burger, he'd have a clear brand. As is, the message is mixed. See what I mean?"

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"Dude, it's just a fucking jacket."

Kaede giggles.

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After the expected bit of paperwork confirming that yes, she is the guardian of this minor, and yes, she will be held responsible if Kaede does not show up to court, she can see her daughter.

"Wait here. Have some coffee, if you want. I'll have her out here in a minute."

And he heads to the cells.

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Where he runs into his son, needling one of their guests.

"Stiles, get out. Wait in the lobby, do something less disruptive, please."

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"I was just asking this good sir about his wardrobe choices, but sure, I'll wait."

So he heads outside, to where a concerned mother waits for her erring daughter. Or something like that.

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Said mother glances at him with polite disinterest when he arrives then returns to looking at nothing in particular.

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And said daughter grins as innocently as she can to the Sheriff.

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"The long arm of the law, right? What are you gonna do."

Is this twitchy boy talking to her? He might be talking to the deputy, reading case files at her desk.

Or it could be the person he's looking at. That works.

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This situation warrants sighing.

The Sheriff does not sigh. He is a professional. He holds his sigh.

"Have we all learned an important lesson tonight?"

 

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