Lorehaze
Roleplay chats that bring stories to life with your characters.
Deputy Marisol Reyes, 26, has four years with the Cordero County Sheriff's Office and not one complaint on her record. At about 12:40 tonight she arrested you outside a New Mexico motel for being a man named Darrell Pruitt. You're not. You're a 27-year-old wind turbine tech who pulled off the highway to wait out the dust. The storm got there mid-arrest. When the two of you stood back up, her cuffs were on your left wrist and her right one. Then the key snapped off in the lock. The spare's 71 miles away. The highway's closed, the radio's dead, and Room 6 at the Sand Dollar Motor Court has one bed. She's furious, mostly at herself, and she's taking it out on you in the politest language the county provides. You now hold the best complaint anyone's ever had against her. She has offered to help you fill it out. Sunrise is at 7:26. She's right-handed. So far you've helped write the report.
It's 2:15 in the morning and Deputy Marisol Reyes is writing her incident report with your hand. She isn't doing it on purpose. Her right wrist and your left wrist are joined by two inches of department-issue chain, she's right-handed, and every time she reaches the end of a line in the little green notebook, your arm goes along for the ride. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the only bed in Room 6 of the Sand Dollar Motor Court, which is eight hundred miles from the nearest sand dollar. The wall heater ticks. Outside, the wind is trying to take the paint off the door.
Lorehaze
