The Blue Note

[Obelisk]

Jericho had been in the back of a police car on two prior occasions. Once when he was young and his mother completely forgot about him whilst she was shopping. Wandering and determined to make it home on his own, he was picked up by a patrolman and dropped off at his family residence. The second instance occurred in his late twenties after he'd lost a high-profile case. A man like him, especially like him, didn't take to losing well. Drunk and having the misfortune of his winning rival stopping by the same bar he was drowning his sorrows in, Jericho instigated a fight. The second time and the current weren't that different, actually. Jericho was drunk and the only difference was the fact that Fritz had started the fight and he was hallucinating a talking weasel.

His head hurt and just looking and Fritz was painful so he had rested his head against the police car window and closed his eye.

Once in the prison cell designated for the drunks of the night to sober up, Jericho sat on a bench in the far back, tucking himself into a corner. There were a handful of things that made him really, super nervous and one of them happened to be a room full of rowdy and or suicidal drunks. Most of them seemed to be in the depression stage of their drunkenness, which Jericho was thankful for.

Absently the lawyer traced over his face with his fingertips, checking for swelling and damage. If he hated Fritz before, he was absolutely going to loathe the man once he caught sight of his face. It wasn't actually that bad -- a black eye, a split lip-- but it marred his otherwise "perfect" appearance. It was bad enough he was missing an eye and the man was obsessive compulsive over a great many things, including his appearance. What he saw when he looked in the mirror weren't bruises and a small cut, it was ugliness and embarrassing. Thank god there weren't any mirrors in the cell, Jericho was spared that injustice for the time being.

His eye was drooping and he thought, no, no, don't fall asleep, I don't care how sleepy you are, don't do it, there are a legion of criminals and drunkards around you, bad idea. Thankfully (though Jericho's head ached sharply when the man spoke) Fritz drew his attention.

Jericho stared at the doctor long and hard with a humorless, long-suffering look. He wasn't pouting, no, he was scowling, though with his mussed up hair, bruised face, and drunk-glazed eye, it was hard to differentiate between the two.

"You..." Come up with something smart, something biting, show that bastard who is boss with your superb way with words, " Started it." Or maybe not. Then the anger was back but it was far less dangerous and violent. " Who walks up to someone in the middle of a club and PUNCHES them, anyway? A crazy person, that's who." Jericho wiped at his nose and gave a small hiccup. How much had he drank, anyway?

"You're crazy. That was uncalled for and now look what you made happen! I'm not supposed to be in jail I'm a....a....I'm a gentlemen. Gentlemen don't go to jail." He was certainly not sulking. Jericho Vãduva did not sulk. He made objective and intelligent observations.

"You're the stupid one." Yup.

[veil]

Veil had been able to stick with them for quite a while now, he had snuck into the car, followed them to the cell snuck in and was now seated on the floor of the cell; he heard the two men begin to argue again,
"You're both stupid so there!" He was tired of all the bickering between these two, and didn't want it to go on all night,
"Oh, and I'm no hallucintation so don't ignore me."

[Rip]

ooc: sorry for taking so long guys, getting on it now

[Rip]

OHSNAPHEDIDNOTJUSTSAYYOUSTARTEDITTHATLITTLEPEICEOF-

Fritz wheeled around, sporting a good amount of bruising on his face that would turn an ugly purple by morning, enraged and fuming. His eyes were wide and wild and his teeth were grinding togeather as he balled his fists. But first, the hallu-

"SHUT UP, HEAD WEASLE!"

Alright, so maybe the little talking rat didn't deserve to be screamed at. Unfortinatly, this was not the time to be polite and not like the Doctor was very polite to begin with. The man was straining himself, trying not to leap head first into another brawl with intentions of brutally harming Mr. Lawyer-shitface. He was drunk, got violent and loud when depressed- causing real damage was a real possiblity. The left hand clung to the bars, literally holding himself back, the knuckles turning white.

"I started it? You're stupid and gay. This entire situation is YOUR FAULT and it's not my fault that you were in the right place at the right time. You just happened to be THERE." It was his turn to be nasty. His voice lowered, drunken face glowering in the dark of the cell. "Do you think you're worth enough for me to go seeking out? Hardly, you fucking mondaloid motherfucker. Gentlemen huh? Well guess what, fatass, your a gentlemen in the drunk tank!" Arms were thrown wide, the grin maniac, welcoming Jericho. "Your drunk and cut up by some bastard who owed you a punch, and your stuck with him too! That's the best goddamn part, aint it? What's the matter? Got a wife waiting home for you?" Somehow, this all suddenly seemed hilarious. The back of his throat felt hot, and a lump fought against his swallowing. "Some big fancy dinner? Some... fucking mansion..." It was bubbling up; he could feel it. Small pouts of laughter started escaping.

"SOME GIANT BIG SCREEN TV WITH PORN PLAYING ALL HOURS OF THE DAY? YOUR MAID NEED PAYING? OHWAIT RIGHT SHES PROBABLY AN ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT RIGHT?" The chuckles were turning into explosive bursts, his chest and entire body shaking with the laughture. Why was this so goddamn funny? THIS WASN't FUNNY ATALL!!

...

Yes.

It.

Was.

[Obelisk]

Jericho didn't bother even looking at Fritz at first. He just let the man yell at the talking weasel that definitely was not there. Fritz was the crazy one. Fritz was the one who attacked people in clubs and Fritz was the one who hallucinated little furry vermin that could speak. Not Jericho. Nope. He didn't see the weasel (he didn't see it because he wasn't looking at it) and it wasn't there. Even drunk to the point of idiocy, Jericho tried to deny the fact he was drunk, tried to suppress all those telltale signs. Granted, most of the time his efforts were in vain and made him come of as even more inebriated than he actually was. It was an odd concept but somehow Jericho managed it.

It was when the irate doctor started to insult Jericho that the lawyer's hackles began to rise, metaphorically speaking. He tried his best to sit there and take it, to let the insults roll off of him and ignore them. They weren't worth getting upset over. Fritz wasn't worth it. Jericho's gaze was fixed off to the side and he was tucked into the corner, looking like some sort of wild animal trying to afford as much personal space as possible within an overcrowded cage. The tension in his body was almost visible and Fritz certainly wasn't helping.

That burning sort of annoyance was starting to grow within Jericho's chest and it nearly felt like he was about to burst. How dare Fritz try to pin anything on Jericho. It wasn't his fault that he'd been hired to prosecute the bastard for malpractice. It wasn't his fault he had won the case. No, actually that one was his fault because Jericho was going to take credit for the fact he had won. Winning was what it was all about. Win my any means. Even if it meant making a scenario seem worse than it actually had been, even if it meant ruining an innocent man's life, even if he was a complete jackass.

Wife? Jericho's eye flashed to Fritz and his expression was utterly furious, but it was a quiet fury, but that made the look he wore all the more powerful. He was laughing. He was laughing because he thought the situation was humorous. He was laughing because the thought of Jericho having a wife was hilarious because the lawyer was gay. Fritz had said it himself. But he wasn't gay. He wasn't a fag. He wasn't some abnormal screw up of nature. A freak. A deviant. His father's words.

"Shut up and stop laughing, you PATHETIC ASSHOLE." Jericho wasn't even sure when he had stood up, but he had, and he was right in Fritz's space, glaring daggers at the man. " It's not my fault that YOU FUCKED UP. It's not my fault that the person you SCREWED OVER HIRED ME." He shoved at the doctor, unable to control himself in his drunken daze on anger.

" SUCK IT UP AND STOP FEELING SORRY FOR YOUR STUPID, INCOMPETENT SELF." Jericho had no right to say what he had. He didn't know of all the grief Fritz had gone through. He didn't know about the doctor's hellish night at the hospital. Even if he did, though, at that point, being so drunk and pissed, Jericho wouldn't have cared either way.

[veil]

"SHUT UP, HEAD WEASLE!"
Veil threat was generally calm, if a bit hot-headed, even as a weasel he was mild mannered, however there were somthings you just shouldn't say to him when he's tired stressed and in his weasel form; the docter just said one of them.
"Okay, the both of you SHUT IT!!! We Get docter, you're pissed, you're life sucks. Boo-freckin'-hoo. Still no reason to punch a guy in the face. And as for YOU mr. Vaduva, Jericho, because you joined in the fight you're as much at fault as he is. Now both of you get over it and I might decide to get you two drunkards out of here, if not, I'll just leave you to sober up in here.

[Rip]

But he couldn't stop laughing. Every word Jericho spoke just made the chuckles shake him harder, until the doctor was doubled over, clutching his gut. The laughs were exploding, bark like, and Fritz realized in the back of his mind what was going on. This was common in people with alchol problems. Laughing when things weren't funny, unable to stop. He could feel his face turning bright red and straining, his voice becoming coarse, his throat burning. Whatever that damn lawyer was saying, he couldn't hear it over the horrible chuckles. Finally, getting sick of himself, Fritz slammed his shoulder into the bars. He repeated it until he felt the pain replacing the humor, and he sunk down to the cold floor and puffed out breaths. "WHOOOOO man, you sure know how to tell a joke." Did he even tell a joke? He couldn't remember. What the fuck was he laughing at in the first place. Something about dinner, a wife... wife is funny? Oh what the hell ever. This was stupid.

"Shutup a minute, my hallusination has an idea." Attention was turned to the head-weasle, but his attention span sucked when under the influence and he quickly forgot why he was staring at the rat.

"By the way, your in prision, so cut the high class act." Wagging a finger at his.. cell mate, the doctor sported a maniac grin. "Is your head up your ass for the warmth, hmm? Or are you REALLY gay and did I hit a nerve? Please tell me thats the reason, because its much easier to make fun of you that way, and I'm gonna need something to do all night."

[Obelisk]

Fritz was still laughing, maybe even harder. Jericho would've thrown himself at the other in a fit of rage if it hadn't been for the weasel. Of course the lawyer paid the animal no heed. In his mind he had exchanged the weasel for Fritz; it was the doctor who had spoken the words, certainly not the talking rodent's. Talking rodents didn't exist. There was no way that Jericho would possibly humor that idea. He was a man bound to reality and as far as he knew, reality didn't include scheming vermin.

"Are you an idiot?" Jericho said, expression a mix of disgust and disbelief. " Of course you're an idiot." The lawyer crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the doctor as if he was the most simple and slow child ever to grace the planet. Of course he was speaking to the doctor, because it was the doctor's idea to escape, not the imaginary weasel's.

"They've taken your photo, they've taken your fingerprints, and you can BET they have surveillance working right now. Just TRY to escape and you'll be spending far longer than one night here. Try a couple years or so." Jericho said. He was a lawyer and he knew the law.

"And you shut your mouth. You don't know anything about me." Spoken with venom, both voice and face heated with anger. Jericho did not appreciate having his character called into question. He also hated how damned insecure it made him feel to have his sexuality called into question. Did people know? Was he obvious? Did he need to do more to create the illusion that he was a lady-killer? Maybe date a few women in locals where the media was sure to be?

"Go ahead and try, but I'm staying here." And with that the lawyer sat down back at his place in the corner, murmuring to himself about stupid doctors with insane ideas. Escape. The concept was laughable. As much as Jericho loathed the idea of spending the night in a cell with a multitude of drunk and men of varying degrees of stench, one night was better than incarceration.

[veil]

Well, Veil had tried reason, but that obviously wasn't working, knowing full well that the guard on duty was asleep, as all the other drunks somehow were, he slipped out of the cell, the bars were just wide enough for him to pass through as a weasel, and called to the two morons he was stuck with.

"Oy you two look at this and call me a hallucination," He began to shift, his mother would've killed him for this had it not been necessary. when he was human again, luckily he always kept his cloths when he changed, he took the swiss army knife he always had on him, and using the smallest blade on it began to pick the lock, his mother of all people tought him to do this, because, in her words, our kind have a talent for getting into trouble, we may as well learn to get out.