Post by Tobias Ross on Mar 6, 2016 17:20:58 GMT -5
New York After The Walls Came Down
As the nightstick connected with his the side of his face once more, Tobias stumbled and fell to the ground though the smile on his lips never faded. Bruises covered his body as he was handcuffed to the chair and blood dripped down his chin from several cuts on his face. From the blood on his lips to the broken nose, the shirt he was wearing was stained a dark red from all the escaping vitae. Tobias was nestled in a body aching from the abuse of the cops and the body malnourished from the district. The flesh that the handcuffs touched was raw and several cuts bled freely as he was sitting in the chair. Looking up at the men in front of him, Tobias chuckled lightly and was rewarded with a right hook to his face with enough force to send him to the ground as he slide away from the table.
"Let's try this once again, felon. You are responsible for committing several criminal actions that resulted in not only the injuries of innocent civilians, but the deaths of several of them as well. Not to mention the fact that there are law enforcement officers either in the hospital or the graveyard because of you and your friends."
One of the men walked over to Tobias and lifted him to be seated at the table once more with the microphone in front of face. The button was pressed down once again on the microphone for him and his head was pushed down toward it.
"You are here to confess to the crimes that you have committed. Speak clearly into the mic for it to record what you say."
Tobias knew that he would need to conserve his energy here. Unfortunately, there was little option to escape from here unless he confessed to the crimes committed within District 552. These cops were furious with those that had been trapped within and resisted. The truth of the matter was that while he had done some things that polite society would frown at, the charges brought up against him were too numerous to be levied against one person. That and the fact that he did not care. Things were bad inside those walls and no one within there could technically be held accountable for their actions as they were driven to them by desperation. Well, that is what would be said on the news.
"Tobias Ross. Senior. 388-93-"
Tobias was interrupted by a nightstick slamming into his face once more and spent the next couple of seconds coughing up blood as another fist hit him. This time it seems that the cops were being creative as the next fist slammed into his stomach, right in solar plexus. Difficulty with breathing started and intense pain spread.
Gods.......that hurts..
As his world became one of pain and screams, there was knocking on the door leading into the room.
OOC: I will leave this open ended for a couple of days and if no one responds to the thread, I will write another post. I figure my character isn't the only one going through this in New York before being shipped to California. Try to add to the thread. ;P
As the nightstick connected with his the side of his face once more, Tobias stumbled and fell to the ground though the smile on his lips never faded. Bruises covered his body as he was handcuffed to the chair and blood dripped down his chin from several cuts on his face. From the blood on his lips to the broken nose, the shirt he was wearing was stained a dark red from all the escaping vitae. Tobias was nestled in a body aching from the abuse of the cops and the body malnourished from the district. The flesh that the handcuffs touched was raw and several cuts bled freely as he was sitting in the chair. Looking up at the men in front of him, Tobias chuckled lightly and was rewarded with a right hook to his face with enough force to send him to the ground as he slide away from the table.
"Let's try this once again, felon. You are responsible for committing several criminal actions that resulted in not only the injuries of innocent civilians, but the deaths of several of them as well. Not to mention the fact that there are law enforcement officers either in the hospital or the graveyard because of you and your friends."
One of the men walked over to Tobias and lifted him to be seated at the table once more with the microphone in front of face. The button was pressed down once again on the microphone for him and his head was pushed down toward it.
"You are here to confess to the crimes that you have committed. Speak clearly into the mic for it to record what you say."
Tobias knew that he would need to conserve his energy here. Unfortunately, there was little option to escape from here unless he confessed to the crimes committed within District 552. These cops were furious with those that had been trapped within and resisted. The truth of the matter was that while he had done some things that polite society would frown at, the charges brought up against him were too numerous to be levied against one person. That and the fact that he did not care. Things were bad inside those walls and no one within there could technically be held accountable for their actions as they were driven to them by desperation. Well, that is what would be said on the news.
"Tobias Ross. Senior. 388-93-"
Tobias was interrupted by a nightstick slamming into his face once more and spent the next couple of seconds coughing up blood as another fist hit him. This time it seems that the cops were being creative as the next fist slammed into his stomach, right in solar plexus. Difficulty with breathing started and intense pain spread.
Gods.......that hurts..
As his world became one of pain and screams, there was knocking on the door leading into the room.
OOC: I will leave this open ended for a couple of days and if no one responds to the thread, I will write another post. I figure my character isn't the only one going through this in New York before being shipped to California. Try to add to the thread. ;P
