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xp_logsIn the city, Match checks out the legal advisor at the District X Community Centre and finds a familiar face.
With a very firm grip on his backpack, Match knocked on the office door he’d been pointed to upon entering the community center for legal advice, the mutant who’d pointed him in the direction had mentioned an opening and he was hoping that still stood. He stood up taller, lines he’d been rehearsing in his head at the forefront as something was said before the door opened.
“Oh. You’re,” his brows knit together in confusion as he recognized the man but no name. “You were in Chicago, the guy who helps kids. You uh, you a lawyer? This lawyer?”
Angelo looked up as the door opened, smiling slightly. "I wear a lot of hats. But yeah, today I'm this lawyer. How can I help?"
“‘m lookin for advice,” he started before frowning, brows knitting together as he tried to make his words make sense. “Or like, fake papers or something. Long story short, last year I got arrested when I, ya know, got all fiery for the first time, and as far as the state was concerned I’m too dangerous to be on the streets. Like that worked out for them.” The last sentence was accompanied by a short laugh. “So what’s the law say?”
Angelo got up to nudge the door closed, then turned back to Match. "I'm not really the guy to talk to about fake papers, but if that's what you need, I can point you to the right people. As for the law, did they charge you with anything?"
"Nah, I don't think fake papers are actually for me, I was just makin' shit up." Match zeroed in on the man as he moved, wariness setting on his face for a moment before slowly ebbing away. Loudly, he cleared his throat and raised a hand to count off the charges that had been thrown around when he'd been arrested. "Resisting arrest, destruction of public property, they threw in disorderly conduct on top of that just for fun I think, reckless conduct —which is apparently different —and slap a 'lack of registration of dangerous mutant power' or whatever and no parents and there you go. So, what are my options?" Any sarcasm left as he fixed Angelo with a firm gaze, waiting.
Angelo listened carefully, thinking it over. "How'd you get to where we found you? Did they release you, or did you escape? I can work with whichever it is."
Match stayed silent for a moment as he tried to pick his next words. "There was a malfunction or something with the power dampener they'd had on site of the holding cell I got taken to. I wasn't in the system yet, and, I don't know, I just ran. Postman and Trader found me and I stayed with them until, well, until I burned my house down."
“You weren’t in the system yet? That could be good for us. Did they know your name?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, I’d gotten some warnings so the cops who picked me up knew my name.” His face darkened a touch, jaw tightening before he shook his head. “But I didn’t get printed or anything. Is that good?” It seemed like it would be good but he was unsure.
"It might be. It depends." Angelo offered a crooked grin. "Mostly on how lazy they were and whether they wanted to do paperwork on a prisoner who was never officially there and explain how they let you escape."
Match nodded along, as if he understood, and part of it made sense to him. In fact, he straightened himself up a little more, eyes brightening. "So, could you find out, or... wait, I guess, I mean this doesn't mean I can go home, does it?" And he deflated, the weight of everything seemingly coming down on him fully for the first time since they'd brought him back.
"Not yet", Angelo said apologetically. "Not until we get that straightened out - and yeah, if there's a warrant out for you, I can find out. And we can keep you in touch with your grandma and anyone else you want, without anybody tracking you."
That earned Angelo a hopeful look, a small smile spreading for a moment before the boy reigned himself in. "Okay. Oh," he hadn't told anyone much about the group he'd been with, and now didn't seem like the time to start. "No, just my grandma. The others... they're gone, probably for the best, really." He wrung his hands together, popping the joints of his fingers before he realized what he was doing. "Will, uh, the warrant stuff take long?"
"I can get an answer one way or the other in the next day or two", he promised, "and then we can look at what we need to do next."
“Okay, okay, cool am I… is that it? For now, I mean.” Match cocked his head, curiosity getting the better of him.
"For now, I think you can relax. You're a long way from Chicago and they have no clue where you went. But I promise. I'll make sure we get this off your back."
"Okay... thanks. Guess I'll explore the city a little then, see about heading back later or something." Match offered the man a thin smile and a nod before making his exit.
With a very firm grip on his backpack, Match knocked on the office door he’d been pointed to upon entering the community center for legal advice, the mutant who’d pointed him in the direction had mentioned an opening and he was hoping that still stood. He stood up taller, lines he’d been rehearsing in his head at the forefront as something was said before the door opened.
“Oh. You’re,” his brows knit together in confusion as he recognized the man but no name. “You were in Chicago, the guy who helps kids. You uh, you a lawyer? This lawyer?”
Angelo looked up as the door opened, smiling slightly. "I wear a lot of hats. But yeah, today I'm this lawyer. How can I help?"
“‘m lookin for advice,” he started before frowning, brows knitting together as he tried to make his words make sense. “Or like, fake papers or something. Long story short, last year I got arrested when I, ya know, got all fiery for the first time, and as far as the state was concerned I’m too dangerous to be on the streets. Like that worked out for them.” The last sentence was accompanied by a short laugh. “So what’s the law say?”
Angelo got up to nudge the door closed, then turned back to Match. "I'm not really the guy to talk to about fake papers, but if that's what you need, I can point you to the right people. As for the law, did they charge you with anything?"
"Nah, I don't think fake papers are actually for me, I was just makin' shit up." Match zeroed in on the man as he moved, wariness setting on his face for a moment before slowly ebbing away. Loudly, he cleared his throat and raised a hand to count off the charges that had been thrown around when he'd been arrested. "Resisting arrest, destruction of public property, they threw in disorderly conduct on top of that just for fun I think, reckless conduct —which is apparently different —and slap a 'lack of registration of dangerous mutant power' or whatever and no parents and there you go. So, what are my options?" Any sarcasm left as he fixed Angelo with a firm gaze, waiting.
Angelo listened carefully, thinking it over. "How'd you get to where we found you? Did they release you, or did you escape? I can work with whichever it is."
Match stayed silent for a moment as he tried to pick his next words. "There was a malfunction or something with the power dampener they'd had on site of the holding cell I got taken to. I wasn't in the system yet, and, I don't know, I just ran. Postman and Trader found me and I stayed with them until, well, until I burned my house down."
“You weren’t in the system yet? That could be good for us. Did they know your name?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, I’d gotten some warnings so the cops who picked me up knew my name.” His face darkened a touch, jaw tightening before he shook his head. “But I didn’t get printed or anything. Is that good?” It seemed like it would be good but he was unsure.
"It might be. It depends." Angelo offered a crooked grin. "Mostly on how lazy they were and whether they wanted to do paperwork on a prisoner who was never officially there and explain how they let you escape."
Match nodded along, as if he understood, and part of it made sense to him. In fact, he straightened himself up a little more, eyes brightening. "So, could you find out, or... wait, I guess, I mean this doesn't mean I can go home, does it?" And he deflated, the weight of everything seemingly coming down on him fully for the first time since they'd brought him back.
"Not yet", Angelo said apologetically. "Not until we get that straightened out - and yeah, if there's a warrant out for you, I can find out. And we can keep you in touch with your grandma and anyone else you want, without anybody tracking you."
That earned Angelo a hopeful look, a small smile spreading for a moment before the boy reigned himself in. "Okay. Oh," he hadn't told anyone much about the group he'd been with, and now didn't seem like the time to start. "No, just my grandma. The others... they're gone, probably for the best, really." He wrung his hands together, popping the joints of his fingers before he realized what he was doing. "Will, uh, the warrant stuff take long?"
"I can get an answer one way or the other in the next day or two", he promised, "and then we can look at what we need to do next."
“Okay, okay, cool am I… is that it? For now, I mean.” Match cocked his head, curiosity getting the better of him.
"For now, I think you can relax. You're a long way from Chicago and they have no clue where you went. But I promise. I'll make sure we get this off your back."
"Okay... thanks. Guess I'll explore the city a little then, see about heading back later or something." Match offered the man a thin smile and a nod before making his exit.
