(OOC: It was my original intent to have the Incarceratory Division send the miscreants back, as they would not be considered threats to spacetime; Brantley as a sort of "timecop" character is always getting chewed out by Sally the director, anyway, for his excesses and *ahem* 'creative' interpretations of intertemporal law. I must say, I'm a bit perturbed by the apparent determination to believe and expect the worst of my motives.)
In the bowels of a huge warehouse somewhere in the waterfont district of a Chicago wherein airships ruled the sky and another bar sported a brass automaton barkeep, the Duty Sergeant of the Incarceratory Division of the A.U.N.T.S.A.L.L.Y. agency was about to pop a vein.
"So it was Brantley that did all this?" Sgt. Antoinette Von Bolt grumbled as she cradled her nightstick, which had just been broken in an altercation with the brawlers that had just recently been sent into the Holding Cellblock. She finally snapped. "These people aren't a threat to spacetime, even if Her ladyship Cthuga was en route to the same location, and they sure ain't haulin' intertemporal contraband! Send 'em back!"
"Sarge?" the guard on duty at the Shunting Boards gaped at Von Bolt in shock. Brantley was practically a legendary figure in the agency, and known to be High Director Sally Kemmermann's fiancee; going against his actions or orders was not an action undertaken lightly.
"You heard me, The Director'd say th' same thing. She herself dresses 'im down practically every mission he goes on, he's always steppin' over the line." The sergeant went on after a couple of calming breaths, "these people 'll be more tainted with experiential information if they stay here, than if they're sent back through the travel circuits again!" Von Bolt walked over to the Boards and entered a set of numbers and alphanumeric coordinates, traced the coordinates of origin, and yanked down the sending toggle. "There. Enter it as my personal action in the logbook."
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Across the vast reaches of spacetime and interdimensional flux, another portal irised open just as Sally, Cthuga, and Brantley sat down at the chessboard in front of the fireplace.
"Oi, thought yer got rid o' us, didn' yer!?" one of the drunks roared as he advanced on Brantley while reaching over and snapping the leg off of an overturned table...