7 am, 4th September. Parliamentary prison cell.

[therealpm]

*The first thing Peter does is to ring George, partly because he misses him, partly because he's overheard whispers of a reshuffle and if anyone's going to have inside info, it's going to be George.  He still hasn't managed to crack the charms on the phone, but he moves the equations from the manuscript to campbell's book for safe keeping, reasoning that people were somewhat less likely to pick up and flick through the latter.

He ignores breakfast when it is brought.  Magical binding or not, Peter has read that some werewolves are able to transform voluntarily and if that's the case, then it's a weapon he means to add to his currently meagre arsenal.  He stares at his hands, trying to draw up the feeling of transformation.  Are the hairs on the back of his hands a little longer?  Perhaps not.  He refocuses and tries again.

By lunch time, Peter's famished and in need of a nap.  He's just about managed to get fur to grow, but his human self reasserts itself after about 5 seconds.  He collapses into a chair and almost inhales the plate of food, ignoring Black Rod's disapproving glare.  After lunch, he curls up on the bed and dozes off.*

Comments

Re: Some point that afternoon

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

I will see what I can do, however without my library I am somewhat limited.

*A few further pleasantries and phone numbers are exchanged before Vince hangs up. Peter passes the mobile back to John and waits. John doesn't appear to be leaving the room.*

...what is it, John?

Re: Some point that afternoon

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

There's...

There's another stipulation that DEFRA require.

I-I-I want you to know that I think it's preposterous and that I've tried to find a way round this, but the alternative is far, far worse, I assure you.

*John reaches into the bag and reveals Peter's gift.*

Re: Some point that afternoon

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

...a dog collar.

*he crosses his arms, leans back in his chair and glares at John*

No.

Re: Some point that afternoon

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John puts the collar away in the bag again. So far Peter hasn't strangled him - it's a vast improvement from how John imagined the exchange to go.*

It-It isn't a dog collar, it's a specially designed werewolf accessory.

If you wear the collar - as DEFRA request - then your magic will no longer be bound by France or I.

*John takes the instruction leaflet out of the bag and carefully places it on the table.*

It is, of course, your choice, Peter - I can't make you wear it.

*John begins to back out of the cell.*

I'll give you some time to read the booklet and think things over.

Re: Some point that afternoon

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter just keeps his arms folded and stares John down. It's a good way to make the other man feel as small as possible, without having to expend too much energy, and right now Peter is finding it very difficult not to let his canines lengthen any further. He narrows his eyes- his vision is already beginning to switch from colour to grey as his irises turn a far too liberal shade of yellow.*

Re: Some point that afternoon

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John gets out of the room and locks the door. He double checks the wards.*

I've got to head back to the house but I'll be back later - is there anything in particular I can get you?

Re: Some point that afternoon

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter continues to stare at John, until John leaves. He reads the leaflet. John's offer of removing the magical binding looks distinctly weak given that the collar will suppress both his magic and physical strength. He throws the leaflet on the table and paces the room. It's always small, but at the moment the four walls are oppressive and he needs to get outside. Instead, he stops holding back the wolf form that's been pushing to resurface ever since John shoved that stupid object under his nose and screams as the changes take hold.

He shakes off his tattered clothes and begins to explore the room from an entirely new perspective. There's still a vague, small, human voice at the back of his mind, this is nothing like the blind rage and hunger during the full moon, but it takes a back seat to the wolf.*