nevegallus | (no subject)

The Second City of Darrow spits her back out as unceremoniously as it had accepted her, and Neve doesn't even take the time to wipe the ash off her clothes before she goes to Darrow's Precinct 2. She steps in and the same officer is behind the counter as the last time she'd been, and this time she throws him a bone.

“Neve Gallus for Daniel Sousa,” she says, and remembers not to sit in the uncomfortable chairs lining the wall. The officer looks at her wide-eyed before hesitantly asking, “Are you okay, Miss Gallus?”

“Never better, why?” she asks, canting a wry smile his way. He doesn't seem like he wants to point out the soiling of her clothes and hair.

“A-are you here to report a crime?” he presses. He looks her over again slowly, almost pointedly. Even her metal leg is diminished in shine by the ash settled into its carving.

“I've told you why I'm here,” she points out. He hesitates again, so she sighs softly. “Look, just call him, won't you? He's expecting me.”

Finally, the officer turns to his phone and lifts the receiver to his ear.

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"I appreciate that," he replied. "And then we'll make an appointment for you to come back and take a look at some of the other sketches. Don't try to wheedle Micah into telling you, either. Micah will tell me if you try it."

Micah was immune to wheedling, so far as Daniel could tell. The man drew amazingly well and was very good at coaxing descriptions out of people, but he was not at all interested in anything related to cases other than making his sketches.

"Daniel, you wound me," she says, not sounding very wounded at all. "I'm a professional. I know when and when not to play my hand." Besides, she's very good at reading people. It's possible Micah will give away something in his expression, whether he means to or not. So far, only Daniel seems to be especially good at schooling his features.

"I'm sure I do." His expression and tone indicated that he was sure he didn't, since her voice sounded very much not wounded as well.

"Do you want to stop by the ladies' room and maybe wipe your face down? It's up to you. Micah won't care, but if you do, we have time."

It only seemed polite to offer that to her, since she'd said she didn't want to go home and change.

"Sure, may as well," she says with an easy shrug. A few minutes to wipe her face down won't be a problem for her memory, at least, and it'll make her feel just that little bit better. "I suppose if you have a tea or coffee I won't say no, either," she adds, giving him a little wink. He seems to understand she's harmless when she flirts, at least, and there's probably a reason for that, but she's glad they're on the same page.

"I wouldn't personally recommend the coffee, but it's hard to screw up hot water," Daniel replied. She was flirting again, but not with intent, and he was ignoring it anyway.

He stood up and went around the desk to hold the door open for her. She was a lady, and he held doors for ladies.

"Ladies' room's the third door on the left," he said. "I'll wait for you outside. Also, there's no window in there and the air vents don't go anywhere interesting ."

He doubted she was planning to flee out the window or go into the vents, but he'd just point it out.

"N'aww," Neve says, really laying it on thick now, complete with a pouty little smirk. "I'll bet you say that to all the friendly material witnesses." She ducks into the bathroom and tugs a paper from the dispenser, then wets it at the sink. She takes in her reflection and realizes, now, why Daniel offered so many times to let her go home and come back after changing and washing. The warm brown of her skin is streaked in sickly gray, ash clinging to her — the valleys where her nose meets her cheeks, the dip below her lower lip, the cupid's bow beneath her nose, the creases of her eyelids. On the rise of her cheekbones and the flat of her forehead, she's got a fine dusting of the stuff, like the powders a street performer might wear.

"Kaffas," she whispers, and she shakes herself. She uses the towel to wipe herself down, then grabs another and repeats the process, until she looks a little more like herself — saving a few ruddier streaks where she'd pressed a little harder against more stubborn ash. That done, she bends to drink some water direct from the faucet so she can rinse her mouth out a couple of times.

She straightens and takes in herself again, then goes so far as to let her hair down and shake out some of the ash. It snows down onto the floor and she doesn't even care. Well, she cares a little. Whoever cleans up the precinct isn't going to have a fun time with this. But it feels good to get some of it out, and her hair is closer to its glossy black than 'old crone grey' when she returns it to her twist. All of that done, washes her hands and then finally exits again.

"There, see?" she says, affecting that same playful tone. "No escape attempts. Mark it down for the record, won't you."

While she'd been in the bathroom, Daniel had stepped into the sketch room next door to make sure it was ready to go. It was not an interrogation room since people who were providing sketches weren't suspects, so it was a little more comfortable. It was still a police room, but it wasn't that bad.

That didn't take long, so he was waiting outside the door when she opened it again. He made a tally mark under an invisible column when she came back out looking a lot more like herself. He also made a mental note to ask Katarina to clean that bathroom soon, since he was going to bet there was ash on the floor now.

"I appreciate that," he said. "Micah will be here in just a minute, but the sketch room's right here."

"Thanks," she says. "I'll make myself comfortable, and you can get back to your duties." Her smile is more sincere for a moment, and as she saunters in to go sit, she pauses and turns to look at him.

"Daniel... just how many people do you bring in that try to escape through the toilet?" A curious grin dances around her mouth, wondering if the number is especially high that he felt the need to tell her of all people.

Daniel made a non-committal noise. If they were really flight risks, they didn't get to go to the bathroom themselves. There had a few people through here who had tried the bathroom trick to get out from under the eyes of someone, though. He wasn't sure which movie had convinced them that was going to work, but it pretty much never did.

"Thanks for being willing to help out with this. Let Micah know if you need to talk to me after you're done," he said.

At that moment, Micah walked in with his sketch pad and supplies. The man was medium height, blond, slim, and had a very prominent brow ridge. He was as distinctive as the sketches he tended to make.

"Have a good day, Neve. Micah, I'll be interested to see your sketches."