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ooo. juvenile [original episode]
Another day, another roadtrip. It's 6 in the morning and the back of the SUV reeks of chlorine. The skies are clear and the roads are blank. Another day, another trip to the local police station.
"Just wait 'til my daddy finds out about this!"
From the very beginning, the juvenile has been raising hell, her legs curling up as she knees the back of the passenger seat, elevating the volume of aggressiveness each time the FBI agent cranks up the radio. "I can do this all day, " Agent Navy Alma remarks.
Atlas pauses for a millisecond in throwing her tantrum to get out a retort, "You haven't lasted the hour!"
Ignoring her, Agent Alma dials up the music―some Spanish song that's been on loop for the past hour that drives Atlas absolutely crazy. Not even her dad played his annoying music this much.
Navy chuckles, her eyes watching in the rearview mirror as the juvenile's face scrunches up, her lips reaching her nose. "Oh, don't worry about me. I'm good. Seems you're the one who can't keep it together." She takes a sip from her nearly empty energy drink and Atlas watches closely, finally shutting up.
"Dad says those ruin your body."
Navy quietly chuckles and tilts the can as if making a toast. "That, indeed, they do."
"Then why do you drink it?" asks the ever-so-curious 12-year-old.
"Because it keeps me awake to deal with juveniles like you."
Atlas grumbles and sinks down in her seat. She rubs at her handcuffs, making a slight clinking sound with the metal, and then doing it again and again and again, finding a new annoying sound.
Last year, she'd wanna cry and admit that they hurt her wrists with how tight they were, but after months of barely managing to escape the law, she's grown accustomed to them. And that, at the moment, is the last of her troubles.
Normally, she'd plan her escape―pay attention to every little detail. But Agent Navy knows all of her moves. Even the slickest of the slick ones. For example, her main trick that she's used on nearly all the officers at the station is having an allergic reaction―and it works great every time since there are so many food options.
Yet the first time the ploy was attempted on Navy, no response was given since she'd already heard the stories of the manipulative little runt and kept track of all her personal info―allergies, weight, height, birthday, blood type, etc.―anything to be on an even playing field.
