The mate to a key and lips to a secret.

[enigmaestro]

WHO: SKRULLOCK HOLMES, TONY STARK, EDWARD NYGMA, NORMAN OSBORN, DR. JOHN ZOIDBERG and YOU!
WHERE: The Quarantine Room.
WHEN: February 22nd (evening) to February 24th (afternoon).
WARNINGS: None necessarily? Bickering doesn't merit a warning.
SUMMARY: Skrulls in the dungeon. Well, one anyway.
FORMAT: I'll introduce the setting in paragraph, but you choose what format you prefer.


The area for the quarantined is spacious and clean. Although technically under police custody, the room is established in a large auditorium of City Hall. There are five walled 'dividers' that offer the quarantined the semblance of privacy. Never mind that every inch of the room is taped on camera -- cameras that Mitchell Hundred can control with a word. Never mind that there are armed guards on the other wise of each exit. Never mind that the communicators of the quarantined have been disabled from encryption capabilities.

They were allowed a bed. Access to any bathroom was to be monitored. Meals would be provided. They were handcuffed but not leglocked. If any of the number disagreed with their situation, heavier imprisonment was negotiable.

The quarantined were to be questioned by those in authority, or those who were experts on Skrull detection. Or those who thought they were.

ooc || begin a thread with your character name in the heading. anyone can tag into your thread, including other quarantined individuals.

Comments

scream why didn't i think of this earlier

[bringerofwar]

Midnighter doesn't hold any illusions about being able to fool the skrull who'd been able to fool everyone into thinking he was Sherlock for however long, certainly not with his dismally fake British accent, but that isn't the goal. He only here, out of costume, because he can't very well wander into a place meant to detain skrulls shortly after being convincingly framed as one by some unknown asshole.

But Ghost says they've made a mistake - a big one - so he shows up frighteningly early on the 24th in the button down he'd worn the night of the meeting and a pair of pressed slacks, with the bright blue contacts in and looking for all the world like James Bond again.

He comes to a stop before the alien, watching him, silently. Trying to see what Ghost had in him.

[alldeduction]

Dude it is damn early so N'cho is laying back in the bed (already having resigned himself to doing something other than standing), his handcuffed hands back behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

Around him, little white points of light. Almost like a sphere... Wait, stars?

They flicker out when he realises there's someone else with him, but he doesn't look over.

[bringerofwar]

He watches that happen, and debates continuing to stand around in ever increasingly passive aggressive silence, but figures fuck it. The others aren't awake, he's sure the skrull already knows that he's not a skrull, so what shits should he give about the secret identity? The others are asleep or they're not paying attention.

"Well. This is always the problem with too much hype." The outcome is always a disappointment.

[alldeduction]

"Yes, everyone is so strangely disappointed." He pulled himself up, sitting, glowering over at the guy that put a boot to his chest. James Bond, bodyguard. Sherlock's distinctive curls still rested on his forehead.

"Is there a reason you're so determined to make sure I don't sleep? Is this some boring form of intimidation or torture? I've been living as Sherlock. Please. I can go days without it."