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The perp is being unruly. He's just a street kid really; some urchin on his way to manhood, all bravado and bluster. But he's still an ass to deal with. Won't answer the officer's questions, doesn't seem to care he could spend a night in lock-up – all but begged them to, in fact, cuz it'll increase his street cred. The officers have dragged him to an interrogation room, sat his ass down and are trying to get anything halfway like information from him. They're tired from the merry dance he and his crew have led through the back alleys of Precinct Eight, they're sick of his bullshit, out of both coffee and patience, and more than anything they are just so done with having to send kids like him down to the House of St Cuthbert.
"We ain't getting through to him," says one officer, leaning back in his chair. "I think we might have to put in for Special Measures with this boy."
His fellow officer looks taken aback. "But he's just a kid. He's a pain in the ass, and a right little shit, but I don't think Special Measures is needed." The second officer turns to the kid. "That's right, ain't it? You don't need Special Measures. You'll co-operate on your own, yeah?"
"Fuck you," the kid says. "I can take anything you're giving out."
"There, see," says the first officer. "He's practically begging us to use Special Measures with him."
"Ah hell Kid," mutters the second cop. "You just had to, didn't you? C'mon Frank." He turns back to his partner. "Special Measures is gonna be too much for this swarf to handle. Hell, Special Measure made even 'The Builder' Jackson cry, right before he went down to see St Cuthbert. Reconsider, hey kid?"
Here the kid's facade falters just the minutest amount. "Everyone knows Ol' Jackson's a big wimp anyhow," the kid says, but he doesn't sound too sure.
"No Ernie," says the first officer again. "Kid won't co-operate; we gotta use Special Measure." He opens the door and waits for his partner to come over. The second officer lingers in the door, looks back at the kid, full of concern. He looks like he wants to say something to the kid - opens his mouth, takes a breath, closes it and just looks glum. "Alright then Frank," he says instead and the two officers leave.
The kid sits there. They leave him nearly an hour, after making the notification for Special Measures, then watch through the scrying pool. First, the kid is indifferent. He shouts a bit, bucks the furniture, makes a tit of himself. Then they watch him start to sweat. What could be so bad, they see him wondering, that could make the toughest terror in the city wet himself in fear. They watch his face as he envisages the worst, and then finds a new way to terrify himself. He's practically on the verge of breaking when the door opens. The kid jumps, chair scraping against the floor, as an orc – all tusks and battle scars and just. So. Huge – opens the door. The kid shrinks back as he walks in... and holds the door open. Behind him is a gnome. She only comes up to his knee, but she strides in and takes a chair like she's the same damn size. The orc nods and closes the door as he exits.
The poor kid doesn't know what to make of this. He's caught between terror and hysteria. The woman says nothing, just glares at him. The kid twitches, unconsciously flinching already, adrenalin gearing up. The woman just stares. Like she can read his mind. Like she's analyzing his very soul. The kid shrinks in on himself under that scrutiny. She stares. The kid opens his mouth. She launches herself from the chair, over the table and slams his head on the solid wood.
"Listen here you little shit," she hisses, leaning over and bringing her face close to his, "this is your one and only chance. If you persist in being a cunt, we will fuck you over for life. But you play nice with Frank and Ernie, we can get leniency with the judge, and then maybe you won't turn out like a completely useless turd. So fucking co-operate." She pushes his head down again as she levers herself up, and then saunters off the table. For a moment the kid doesn't move, then he slowly sits up as she reaches the door. It's opened from without and the gnome nods to Frank and Ernie, waiting on the other side.
"He's all yours boys," she says.
"Cheers 'Special Measures'," they say, nodding back.