A young man would enter the room along with two guards. He wore a pressed suit, holding a suitcase to pair with.
"That's enough"
Composed, the lad simply sat in place of the broken director. Who was promptly escorted out. No qualms, only tears.
He'd mechanically store the sprawled documents across the table and into the suitcase, others were crumpled, and others were slightly torn. Closing the bag, the young man would lightly clasp his hands together and take a few moments of observation.
"Sir, you are aware that your every word may as well be used against you, yes?"
"Mhm."
The lad was quick to say. "Your criminal trial will proceed as planned the next day, as the judge has traveled far from another jurisdiction to ensure a fair ruling."
"…" The young guy takes a sort of remote and deactivates something.
"Understand that you having professed guilt to the alleged manslaughter on camera complicates things for you and me. However, there is still much more to be discussed."
The silence between the lawyer and man was heavy, before the lad would take out a book and pen.
"Manslaughter?" The lawyer would look up at the man's intrigue.
"…yes, I shall do my best but hold no guarantees." Norman stares for a bit.
He began again. "What do you mean by that?"
"I am your lawyer" The guy replies.
He looked at the kid with a mix of disbelief and a question, before his expression would meld into something of confusion and sad curiosity.
"Public defender…may I ask why?"
"Would you care to answer a few questions, if I answer yours?" The young man promptly sat straight.
"Absolutely" Norman nods lightly.
"It was a simple dream, I wanted to make things fair, turns out law wasn't so simple after all, but I'd like to think I haven't given up on that."
"…"
"Besides the court rushed an order, someone had to put up with it."
"Understood." Norman would follow. "Well… the camera thing actually makes things easier? Not sure, just… I'll serve time for explosion… whatever it is, but save me the rape charge will ya kid? I never touched her."
"Sure."
Lawyers were sworn to secrecy and this solidified their dignity and integrity as such. Breaking this pact, would mean the lawyer shattering both images of them and their client.
The interview went smoothly, there were no hurdles to speak of, for the two had a proper exchange.
"With that, I shall be taking my leave, your cooperation was well appreciated Sir. Thatcher." It was not long until the empty room was soon taken under siege by three other soldiers, there to take Norman to his new cell, where he'd stay for a day.
The greater station… under the city's floating penitentiary, it was in the shape of a dome, with two rows of rooms facing each other, three floors, and a single watchtower with black windows. Walls facing the watchtower were transparent… to the inmates, they looked like mirrors, to the guards it gave a full view of both cells in their respective block, eerie chills lingered upon the few who walked its halls.
The cells were painted a stiff white. The metal frame and mattress were there…
The period of waiting took…a little of everything. Though there were one or… maybe two who came and went… the cold storms were harsh, the heater? Exhausted…
At least the sting of looming frostbite kept him feeling something. Obviously, authorities didn't hurry to fix anything… not for them.
Maybe it was better this way… for the murderer, the rapist, and the drug dealer who was huddled in a corner, in a cell across from Norman's. He was skinny and barely moved, as if he were already a figure of ice. If it weren't for his rattling teeth, that is…
The four of them merely met by circumstance, presumed monsters… scheduled for trial within the week… Footsteps could be heard, and the inmate jumped from sculpture to desperate dog, as he'd been praying to be freed from the cold shackles of his cell, for among them all he was seemingly stationed there the longest.
Condescending, the patrolling officer stood front and center… glaring at each of them, as if his eyes were so sure… before striding up to Norman's block. The food was normal enough. Plastic tray, generic chicken, freeze-dried with dehydrated fruits, and perfectly normal flat bread and water — For him, it tasted of medicine, one he knew all too well… Suppressants. Maji could only manifest their mojo through the brain's emotional function, so…
He ate despite this.
Medicine aside, most winter rations were like this, lasting and nutrition focused, residences had bunkers that people called holds, and storage to accommodate for the six month freeze, those without, turn to shelters and their interconnected routes underground… and yes they provide daily allocations.
Though there isn't a bit of privacy or any real ease for some, as you share these places with anybody and everybody, shared lodging consists of dozens if not more than a hundred in each room…
Now, although apartments share the same principle, often there are more than enough rooms within their holds to accommodate everybody individually, however, occasionally rooming with one another wasn't all so uncommon.
The usual winters for both Norman and Diana were spent under their apartment's bunk. Nothing special, but a magic-fueled generator was provided by the government to hotels and apartments alike with official business permits; these generators doubled as heaters, a free service…
What was power, over sticks and bones?
Those were enough to last six months, as the heaters were awfully persistent…
Though the one ten blocks to Norman's side looked like it was about to die.
The drug dealer was troubled to know it was food again, and by the looks… It made it hard for the guy to keep his actions in check. The young lass a block next to him was jogging, probably to keep herself warm…good idea. She never spoke, was so quiet she hardly existed, but the patrolling officer looked daggers her way, sharper than any valedictorian.
Regardless she was handed her daily provisions, roughly, to say the least. The night held nothing of note, though you couldn't tell… as there wasn't but a window, only the smallest vents right outside jailed bars and the iridescent lights to shatter your sense of time if allowed to do so.
It felt like more than a day had passed… but eventually, Norman was called to trial, leaving the other three to their own satire.
The people demanded justice, and fast. Norman's case couldn't be postponed or pushed back, given how many were affected by this disaster… Society was mad, and their riots needed to be quelled.