Clementine sat on the mattress in her holding cell, a small orb of fiery plasma twirled in the palm of her hand. The warm glow of the flames cast dancing shadows on the cold, grey walls around her. She was mesmerized by the flickering light, a familiar comfort in the midst of chaos. 

Ever since her powers appeared, she had always felt a certain draw to heat, an inexplicable connection that seemed to soothe her restless soul. It was as if the fiery energy resonated with something deep within her, offering solace in moments of uncertainty. Despite the fatigue weighing heavy on her eyelids, Clementine hadn't gotten much sleep, if any at all. For a brief moment, she had nodded off, her mind drifting into a restless slumber. But the sudden arrival of two officers, dragging a yelling and screaming man down the hallway to a holding cell opposite hers, jolted her awake once more.

The commotion echoed through the dimly lit corridor, mingling with the distant sounds of voices and footsteps. Clementine watched in silence as the officers wrestled with their unruly prisoner, the man's protests falling on deaf ears. the man's deranged screaming of blood and murder caused the young redheaded teenager to think back to her own first time she got caught.
She remembered how disappointed her brother Duncan was, while her other brother, Errol only added wood to the fire by defending their little sister's action of breaking one boy's arm and another's nose after they instigated some rather brutal teasing against a 16-year-old Clementine about her social stature and lack of parents.

The problem had been that one of the boy's parents was rather well-connected and wanted to sue, forcing Duncan to pull song strings putting the heat on him.

With the sound of shoes against concrete and a key unlocking her holding cell, Clementine was taken out of her reminiscing, the teenager knew one of her brothers or both, had arrived to pick her up, like a parent with their child after the first of school. The officer who stood in the doorway was an older gentleman and one of the few who every so often tried to offer Clementine help.

Clementine never took the officer's help.

Not because she hated him or anything of the like, she just didn't see the point, he couldn't give her, what she wanted...

[color=red]"Hey there kiddo, your brothers are here to pick you up"[/color] explained the older officer watching Clementine get up from the bed and leave the holding cell.

The walk of shame down the hallways to the door leaving out of the holding cells was an all the well walk. At first, it bothered Clementine, but now it had almost become part of a routine for her. The officer led Clementine through another couple of doors until she found herself face to face with her brother, or a shitty-looking version of her brother, by the looks of it.

Oh, this was not going to be fun, so why not throw a bit of gasoline on, before heated lesions would hit her? [color=orange]"You look like shit"[/color] commented Clementine dryly, holding her oversized jacket under her arm with her hands shoved into her pockets. Looking from her oldest brother to Errol, the middle child of the three, a smile appeared despite the minor pain when smiling, as she gave Errol a tight hug. Letting go of her favourite brother, she glanced at Noa, having seen her a couple of times to know that her older brother trusted the woman. For a brief time, the teenager even thought they were banging.

Clementine faced her oldest brother again, [color=orange]"can we leave now?"[/color] She asked, crossing her arms.