Miller looks back to Prichard with a professional smile. "And- I'm sorry, where did you say the messenger was?" Feigning confusion, Miller takes a step toward the lockup, while pointing to the courthouse.
Vey show a flicker of annoyance before saying. "I don't keep track of everyone who comes in here; only those being locked up." The answer is terse and clearly meant to keep more questions from being asked. She's fiddling with some papers as she says this.
Noticing that Miller is moving towards the jail, Lock moves closer to Vey's desk, trying to keep her attention on him (or at least hoping to keep her demonstratively ignoring them both in an effort to show that she wants them to go away). "So, uh, is there anything about this vagrant we should be aware of, all careful like, you know?", he says, grimacing. "I don't see why a vagrant who's stuck her nose in the wrong book would warrant the attention of spirit wardens..." Hopefully, playing the Very Normal Guard Who Doesn't Know About These Sorts of Things should work here.
Out on the street, a slim figure in an eel skin suit surfaces from the water, clinging to the edge of the walkway, and begins examining the jail's exterior. It seems to Mr Bottles that the figure is hunting for the right spot to submerge again for some purpose. So far they are engrossed in the work and do not notice that they are being observed. What does Mr Bottles do?
As Miller slips into the jail proper—the door's barricade being easy enough to set aside on this side—Vey is engaged by Lock. As soon as he mentions the book, Vey gets a nervous look on her face, quickly suppressed and followed with a shrug. "Probably just took the wrong job out of desperation. I suspect she'll be staggering back onto the street to make more bad choices." Her tone is even, but she's clearly trying to steer the conversation away from something. What does Lock do?
The first hallway of the jail is flanked by two long cells, full of disorderly revelers of little interest to anyone. They look at Miller as he enters—one of them laughs. "Well at least you've dressed up," someone says from the cells. Although it isn't immediately obvious to Miller who is speaking it is obvious that all the other people in lockup are done with her shit. Once the booing dies down, it is obvious that the speaker is a Skovlander woman, her features oddly off kilter like her face got sliced into pieces and put back together again. She's wearing simple but well tailored clothes and has distressingly clever eyes boring into Miller. "Now, would you like a little help with what you're doing or do you have a very fancy plan indeed?" What does Miller do?
There's an open Devil's Bargain for whatever you decide to do—she can help but you'll be in her debt, and squelching will not be fun.
Bottles puts one hand on his revolver but keeps it tucked in his coat. He purposely walks at a beeline straight toward the waterborne intruder and with a commanding whisper, “Put your hands where I can see them and don’t move.”
OOC: I am looking for a command role and willing to take +1 stress on it. If it isn’t command let me know. If it isn’t my turn to role or something that’s fine as well 😁 [\OOC]
Miller stops and takes a longer look at the strange woman a bit longer.
"My ma used to say one should beware incarcerated women offering help: The less dubious their aid, the rougher the cost in the long run."
Miller shrugs. "Ma lived a life."
"So, miss: I gotta ask: what are you selling, and what's the price?"
"I'm sure she did," the woman answers. "I know this jail well. Who is in at the moment. Who might be coming. All sorts of useful things. I just need future considerations. After all, not much of anything I can use right now is there?"