ribs_grow_back: (It's time for your operation.)
RED Medic ([personal profile] ribs_grow_back) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2014-02-20 11:37 am

Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines...

THE TEST DRIVE MEME


 
The meme for people who want to pick up a new muse or work the kinks out of a newish one.
 

How to:


1. Post a comment with your character. Include their name, canon, and preferences for the scene if you wish.
2. Leave the comment blank or set the scene, it's totally up to you.
3. Pick a scene type, get creative, then tag whoever you like!
4. Have fun!

Scenario:

1) ACTION: Fight? Car chase? Shoot-out? This scenario is for all your ass-kicking needs.
2) ANGST: Dealing with depression? A break-up? Maybe you're just sad? Here there be saddening scenes.
3) FLUFF: Just want to play out something adorable? Look no further!
4) ROMANCE: Looking for a ship to play out? Want to thread out a date? You got it all and more here.
5) CRACK: Why bother being serious when you can be over-the-top and ridiculous?
6) GENERAL: Got something that's similar to what's listed here, but not the same? Play it out anyway!
7) DO IT YOURSELF: Don't see anything here you like? Get creative!
biomechatronic: (underlit nerd)

~~~magical timeskip~~~ let me know if this works?

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-24 10:25 pm (UTC)(link)
It was 'good as new' because it was new, Dennett knew, but Alex was so eager--well, as eager as he could be--to get back on the streets that Dennett hadn't been able to extend the downtime much more than that. He'd kept hoping Alex would talk about what had happened out there but he knew sometimes Alex just...didn't talk, and he didn't feel up to pushing it.

It had taken him about forty five minutes after Alex left to finish the paperwork--Sellars would want a report, if nothing else to explain the expense. And probably to forward on to Pope to figure out how to sell that to Novak and the public.

He didn't like it, but positive support meant money would come in, the program would continue. So he did it, finally closing the computer down with a sigh of honest relief, hanging up his coat and heading outside to his car.

....his car, which was in the public parking lot by the station, and which was currently surrounded by a crowd with signs. His footsteps slowed, keys hanging in his gloved hand. Just protestors, right? They wouldn't hurt him? Just yell. A lot.

Except for the person who shoved something hard against his ribs. "Get in the car."

"I, uh, that's what I was planning." Only, well, without the gun and the threatening voice. It took him almost a minute to realize he was being kidnapped.

This sort of thing didn't happen to him. Until it was.
yourmove: (059)

I can NPC off your next post until Alex would show up :)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-03-25 01:16 am (UTC)(link)
Raymond Sellars would look back on this incident and realize it was one of the few, very few, mistakes he made in his professional life - he'd been so focused on getting Alex out there and visible that he forgot about the other moving parts of the RC-2000 project. Namely that some people wouldn't be happy, that they might look at certain nervous doctors and think hey, I can’t do anything to RoboCop, but the old man looks like an easy mark. Get the silly idea they could play chicken with OmniCorp.

The fact they call the station demanding ransom was actually a good sign. It meant they were open and, even better, they were stupid: they didn’t even wait 24 hours to let everyone sweat. Raymond was all for paying it – the kidnappers were so new to this they didn’t ask for much (it’d almost be adorable, if they weren’t kidnapping his staff) – and dealing with them later when Alex took matters into his own hands.

That was the problem with a man instead of a machine: he got those annoying things called ideas.

When Chief Dean picked up the call, Alex was filing paperwork at a desk he only sat at because it was supposed to put the other cops at ease. Sitting was inherently human. So was filling out forms after forms with a pen instead of staring forward, doing it wirelessly. Inconvenient, but necessary if it was more…human. It was either a mix of very human boredom or the fact Dr. Norton hadn’t shown up to his shift that had Alex the closest thing to distracted. He registered an incoming call from a blocked number, his head swiveling toward Chief Dean’s office. The HUD magnified both his visual and audio feeds, picking up that darkening look on Dean’s face from across the station, the downward turn of her mouth. A woman’s voice on the other line mentioning ransom and “the old man”.

Alex got up, swiveled on his repaired foot, and marched over to Chief Dean’s office in time to hear we’ll bring Mr. Sellars into this, okay? We’re willing to work with you to keep this peaceful. Dean looked up, spotted him, and her mouth parted in a little “o”.

He didn’t bother to inform her that he was triangulating the call, listening to the background noise, the way the woman on the other end sounded nervous and was yelling over traffic. Sounds of construction. Alex pulled up construction permits, cross-referencing, analyzing.

Alex was already out the door, mounting his motorcycle, by the time Chief Dean looked up again. So much for telling him to sit tight and let Sellars handle this.
biomechatronic: (this is serious)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-25 02:47 am (UTC)(link)
Well, they were right in one thing: Dennett was absolutely an easy mark. Despite, or perhaps because he's gotten so used to all the ED 209s in China, lumbering around, Dennett couldn't help but feel that this sort of thing happened to other people. He was just a doctor, absolutely unimposing.

And even when he'd tried to fight back, when they had dragged him from the car after he'd driven where they wanted him to go, well, it was probably embarrassing how bad he was at fighting: he'd ended up wrinkled and fumbling for the glasses knocked off his face, a grazing bruise from being dragged face down across concrete on one cheek.

In other word, not well at all. He'd sat, tamely enough after that, his wrists tied up with his own tie, which he presumed was one of those 'insult to injury' things, listening as the leader, a middle-aged woman with a short little pixie cut, gesticulating as she spoke on the phone.

"You know," she was saying, pacing around the abandoned valet booth in the old parking garage, "I bet you'd really be upset if anything happened to the good doctor's fingers, wouldn't you?"

Dennett sure would be, and he found himself bunching his hands into balls, not to attack, but to keep them safe. "Please," he said, getting a good smack on the head for his trouble, "You don't have to do this. I'm nobody. I'm not important."
yourmove: (003)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-03-25 09:19 am (UTC)(link)
Agatha waved one of her men away: they were here to get RoboCop off the streets (and get some money on the side), not beat the crap out of some old guy who looked like he had grandkids somewhere. Covering the phone with her hand, she turned back to what's his face. "Dennett Norton", according to his badge.

"Really? Then how come you're always hanging around RoboCop?" Agatha snapped. "Don't answer that. Just shut up, sit tight."

And hopefully they really wouldn't have to start breaking fingers. Agatha knew her people could probably do it if she asked, but she was hoping it wouldn't be necessary because she didn’t like the idea of fucking up some grandpa. If it was up to her, they would’ve gone straight after RoboCop instead of involving normal people – normal humans she reminded herself – and they wouldn’t have some batshit robot running around tasing people like it was going out of style. Agatha shot a glare at Dennett, at the forming bruise and the grey hair sticking up that made her almost get second thoughts about all this and turned her back on him. She stalked away to dive back into negotiations, leaving Dennett with his guards.

“You don’t have to piss or anything, do you? You good?” One of the guards asked after an hour. Christopher was huge, topping over six plus something feet, but young enough he’d get carded. Maybe once upon a time he could’ve made college football. Bad life choices put him here. “What’s the deal with you, anyway?”
biomechatronic: (Default)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-26 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
"Hey, they'll know we're serious if we rough him up a little."

Dennett figured he looked roughed up enough, and mostly through his own inability to fight back, but he figured this was not the time to offer an opinion.

Honestly, he was better the more they ignored him. "I-I'm fine. I mean, in the circumstances." Because 'terrified' was probably not 'fine', but they probably knew that part. If he were smarter, and more able, he might try to cook up some sort of escape plan involving going to the bathroom and punching someone's lights out, but...Dennett knew that would only end badly. "The deal?" He shook his head. "I'm just a doctor. But what do you want with Alex?"

yourmove: (020)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-03-26 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
It would end badly, probably. Even thought if you asked him, Christopher was thinking maybe they better just let the old guy go already. He wisely kept that to himself.

"Robots don't need doctors," he pointed out. "Look, we already got enough trouble in Detroit. We don't need some crazy robot making it worse."

He'd heard stories about how RoboCop ran things - at least the flesh and blood cops gave you the benefit of the doubt instead of tasing you first and then trying to grill you. And that was if you were lucky. Christopher snuck a glance at Agatha. She'd paced a few feet further than usual, one hand wrapped around stomach as if she was hugging herself. From the way she wasn't pacing as furiously as before, he was making a guess that the negotiations were going better than expected. Maybe they could cut the old man loose by tonight?

"We just want it the way it was before," Christopher shrugged. It wasn't personal.
biomechatronic: (i'll show you illegal)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-26 03:43 am (UTC)(link)
"Alex isn't a robot." He blurted it out probably against better judgment. It was a sore point with him, one that Sellars and Kline seemed absolutely wrong on. But he'd already opened his mouth, so...might as well keep going. "And he's not making anything worse. He's making the city safer."

Dennett would admit he didn't know much about legal things. He was the type to drive precisely at the speed limit and use his turn signals, so his one run in with the police--an expired parking meter--had been met with his sincerest apologies. But it seemed to him that arresting murderers was pretty squarely in the 'positive' column.

"So wait." Agatha rounded on him. "Does that mean he's sick? Is he going to die without you or something?" Because he was around RoboCop a lot, in the background of every news story. "Might have to call and up our demand."

"Demand? No! No. Alex will be fine without me." There was always Kim, he thought, and then it hit him that 'without me' could be very, very bad for Dennett Norton. "Please, there's no reason to keep me. You should just let me go."
yourmove: (031)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-03-26 04:30 am (UTC)(link)
Agatha's eyes narrowed. "Keep your panties on. You'll get to go home."

And just like that, Agatha proved she wasn't so great at this poker face thing - she spilled her cards without realizing it. The fact was this whole hostage/kidnapping thing was going way better than she expected - Chief Dean was polite, way more polite than she would've expected from a cop of all people, and they were already hashing out terms like exchange of the doctor and transfer of money and proof that RoboCop would be offlined for good. No backup. Mr. Sellars, especially, surprised her. He was actually asking how they were on food and water, if they were hungry and if he could do anything to make them more comfortable.

It almost seemed a shame to hold his employee hostage. Must be awesome to work under someone like that: she almost felt jealous of Dennett. If he wasn't, y'know, tied to a chair.

"Get him some water," Agatha snapped to Christopher. "I gotta get this sealed."

Christopher nodded. He resisted the urge to apologize to Dennett that all they had was crappy 7-11 sandwiches and water: he even untied Dennett's hands so he could eat, standing there hovering so close a younger hostage might've fantasized about kicking him in the shins.
biomechatronic: (stay in school kids)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-27 12:38 am (UTC)(link)
He would really like to go home sooner rather than later. His wife is used to late nights, but it had been--well, a really rough day, all things considered, and it was the kind of thing a convenience store sandwich couldn't do much to fix.

Still, it was something to do, and the big guy, Christopher, was it? seemed the kind inclined to take offense if the hospitality was refused.

He lost track of time, because the fade of adrenaline and the exhaustion of the last day's events washed over him, and he fell into a kind of restless doze on the battered chair, jerking awake at a sudden burst of action from the others, a chair scraping back, feet moving. He was about to ask a question when Agatha's voice supplied the answer, talking to the others.

"Right. Get in position: the ransom's coming. We need to keep it professional.""
yourmove: (052)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-03-27 01:33 am (UTC)(link)
Chief Dean and Sellars were following the demands to the letter - 2028 Mercades with a full tank of gas and so far no sign of the DCPD squad cars. Or a SWAT team. So far, so good.

"Hang tight," Christopher muttered to Dennett as he walked over, peering across the drop from the fourth floor to the ground level, clearly expecting to see the Mercades pulling into view any second. He opened his mouth to say "it's here" and instead blurted, "Oh fuck."

By the time they were scrambling for what guns they did bring, Alex Murphy's motorcycle was already heading up the ramp.

* * *


From the last call Agatha made to Chief Dean and Sellars, Dr. Norton was still alive and in one piece. Engagement scenarios said any of the following were likely to happen: Norton would be used as a human shield, Norton could be deliberately killed in an attempt to stop pacification. He could also be collateral damage in crossfire. They might also try to negotiate. The human shield scenario was acceptable. The others, however, were not. Driving the C-1 straight into their group would likely result in scenarios 2 and 3 due to panic.

He didn't try to be stealthy. Alex came at them from the front, his steady tread echoing as he crested the ramp's top, SMG already in his hand. To his utter lack of surprise, they were going with the human shield scenario first, Norton tied to chair with a large, broad-shouldered man holding a Glock to his head. The position of his fingers on the Glock said he wasn't familiar around firearms. At that close range, though, he still registered as [ HIGH THREAT ] and added to Alex's targeting queue. A quick scan of the other kidnappers said none of them had weapons capable of puncturing his chassis. All of them, however, were capable of penetrating Norton's comparably squishier bits.

Currently the only one actually pointing a gun at Norton was the big guy.

Alex switched his targeting reticule from Christopher's chest to a point just above his eyes, selecting "lethal response".

"Stop." A woman stepped forward, her voice matching Agatha from the call records. Her crew was busy watching the exchange, guns fixed on Alex. "Your Chief's already - "

Without a word, Alex raised the SMG and fired. Christopher made a strangled grunt over Norton as something wet splattered across the back of his head.
Edited (editing some word choices, don't mind me) 2014-03-27 01:44 (UTC)
biomechatronic: (this is serious)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-27 02:48 am (UTC)(link)
Dennett was not quite so okay with the 'human shield' concept. He knows Alex's capabilities probably better than anyone, but even now, he'd rather that knowledge remain in the realm of the abstract.

If they had been looking at him, they'd have noticed a tension as the sound of a motorcycle reaches them.

He was halfway to calling out Alex's name, just in sheer relief, when the loud sound of gunfire in the enclosed space of the garage drowned him out. He could have sworn he felt the air beside him move. He didn't need to look to know he didn't want to feel what that sudden hot wet spatter on his ear, on his shoulder, was.

There was a moment while the sound--and the act--echoed through the garage, the kidnappers staring at Christopher's body as it toppled. One of the others, a smaller man, a scruffy dirty-blond, moved to Christopher's body, his mouth shaped like an o.

"Hey!" Agatha was trying to pour anger into her voice to cover the shock. "We had a deal!"
yourmove: (046)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-03-27 03:19 am (UTC)(link)
It might've helped if he said something, even "not anymore", "I don't deal with kidnappers" or "no one threatens my friends" or anything at all. Anything but silence.

Instead Alex merely kept recording visual and audio of the attack, transmitting them back to the station in the improbable event he was somehow offlined, picking out targets and assigning them priorities based on threat level and his own projected response time. Caucasian male, blonde, 150 lbs. IDed as Matthews, Andrew. Closest to Norton, but distracted by the corpse. No promise that he wouldn't take revenge against the doctor, outlined in blue to show he had to be preserved at any cost.

Alex shot Mr. Matthews first, at about the same time the rest of the kidnappers shook themselves out of their stunned silence and stared firing back. Gunfire pinged off graphene as he stepped forward, systematically clearing the room of suspects by head shots. Some of the smarter ones went for cover: Alex settled for center-of-body mass shots for those, aiming for the heart or the lungs while at the same time checking to make sure Norton was still glowing blue. He was. Alex registered Norton was bleeding from the shoulder, but his vitals were strong enough that he wasn't worried.

Agatha paled as gunfire ripped through the parking garage. She was one of the smarter ones: she tried to run while her crew was being straight-up murdered.

She actually made it to the ramp before Alex shot her in the back of the knee.

He turned his back on Norton as he calmly walked up to Agatha, still crawling away. It took less than a second to place the M2 where the skull met the spine. One last crack.

"How are you doing, doctor?" Alex's voice broke through the silence. "You're injured."
Edited 2014-03-27 03:20 (UTC)
biomechatronic: (Default)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-27 03:36 am (UTC)(link)
It might have been nice, yes, a few words. But Dennett was pretty sure with all the gunfire going off near his head that he wouldn't have heard any of it, his ears ringing even as Alex returned from the ramp.

Dennett was not a violent man. He didn't even watch action movies. Maybe, if he had, this wouldn't be so terrifying to witness, bullets ripping through flesh, the little almost-sparks where their bullets pinged off Alex's armor. Part of his mind--but only a small part--was noticing how smoothly Alex moved, how efficient he was, moving onto the next target, the next shot, before the previous one had finished its bloody work. He was everything Sellars could have asked for.

He felt hot and cold, both at once, a burning heat in his right shoulder, and a cold sweat creeping over his body, a mix of shock and terror. He was shivering when Alex approached him, not at all a figure of manly fortitude and more than aware of it. He shook his head. "I-it's nothing, Alex. Just a little..." A little thing that wasn't supposed to happen to men who devoted their lives to healing people.

"They're all dead, Alex." There was a question in the statement: why?
yourmove: (038)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-03-27 03:55 am (UTC)(link)
Alex came closer. He wasn't splattered with blood, like Norton, and his armor was barely even scratched for all the ammo they unloaded his way. Compared to the doctor, he looked pretty good for being in the middle of a firefight.

"That was the intent, doctor," Alex said mildly as he walked around Norton's chair, swiveling to get a good look at his restraints.

Most of the blood was from the first man he shot, blood and bone fragments in a splash pattern. The rest of it seems to be Norton's, though, his blue outline in the HUD trembling a little indicating severe stress. Reaching down, Alex removed the tie lashed around Norton's wrists before moving to the side again to examine the wound in his shoulder more closely. More of a graze than anything else. Considering he had a Glock to his head only a few seconds before, he was doing well. Alex would review the encounter again and again at a later time, trying to note improvements he could have made to change the scenario from Norton Hit (Non-Fatal) to No Damage taken. Perhaps later he could ask Norton about it.

For now, he settled for holding out his hand to help the doctor up. It might've even been a nice gesture if it wasn't for the bodies sprawled all over the place.

"Do you need further assistance? I can carry you if required." Alex wasn't even joking, either. He could benchpress Norton if the situation called for it.
biomechatronic: (no one takes me seriously)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-28 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
Alex also wasn't waxy and pale from adrenaline and fear, unlike Dennett, who hadn't needed the proof that he wasn't cut out for this sort of thing. "But..." But what, Dennett? Alex didn't need to kill them? He remembered the way the bore of the tall one--Christopher's--gun had grazed his ear as he fell, and he didn't need to be a ballistics expert to figure out abouta hundred different ways that could have gone badly for him. "...thank you, Alex."

What else could he say: Alex had saved his life.

He rubs his wrists, chafing blood back into his fingers for a moment, before taking the offered hand. He was used to sitting for long times in surgery, but still his hips had stiffened, and he felt like, well, he probably was, an old man, trying to hide the hiss of air as the movement tugged on the wound in his shoulder.

"N-no. I don't need to be carried." Please, this whole thing was embarrassing enough. "Did...did Raymond send you?"

yourmove: (030)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-03-28 02:20 am (UTC)(link)
Alex didn't seem to know what to do with that quiet "thank you", his head tilted almost imperceptibly to the side, his face blank underneath the gleaming black visor. Thanks weren't needed. It was his job - his one job, really - and he would have done the same for anyone. The fact he'd gone into overkill, literally, was something for later review. The fact was he might've at least left one survivor if it was anyone but Dennett Norton, no matter what he told himself.

He pulled Norton up, surprisingly gentle for a man who'd slaughtered his way in here.

Alex hovered over the doctor, projecting an air of detached concern. "He seemed to be busy paying off your ransom. I made the call."

A call that he believed was the right one, sending a message out there: don't kidnap Dr. Norton, end of story, otherwise lethal response would be used regardless of past criminal records, no matter how small they were previously. Negotiations only told them they could try it again. This was preemptive.

"This won't happen again," Alex said, the closest thing he'd come to saying "sorry I got you into this". "Paramedics should be on the way."
biomechatronic: (is that the 'weird science' theme?)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-28 03:13 am (UTC)(link)
His hand rested on Alex's forearm, as though he took some comfort from something he knew so well. Dennett blinked, rapidly, behind his glasses. If Sellars was going to pay the ransom, and Alex had overridden him....

"Did you tell anyone you were coming, at least?" He knew, in his lab, Kim would know, but Kim, as talented as she was, was no more a police officer than Dennett. He had faith that Sellars would spin this into another PR success. He could almost see the headlines, something about a daring rescue of RoboCop's friend, but Dennett wasn't at all sure that headline fit.

"I-I don't even know why this happened this time. I was just going home." It wasn't Alex's fault, though. He couldn't be guarded all the time.
yourmove: (063)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-03-28 03:23 am (UTC)(link)
It probably said something about their working relationship that Alex didn't order him to remove his hand, as if he was a random civilian off the street.

"I transmitted everything back to the station," Alex had an unspoken of course thrown in there, unaware there was a difference between telling and actually showing every single gory detail. "You're a valuable asset of the program, Dr. Norton. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

Alex could make an educated guess why: Norton was much more visible than the rest of his staff, in terms of screen-time and basic social media coverage that went around. Appearing on the The Novak Element probably hadn't helped keep a low profile, in retrospect.
biomechatronic: (illusions of free will)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-29 03:42 am (UTC)(link)
He would have removed his hand, and did, eventually, but for a moment, the solidity of it, and the familiarity of it, something he knew better than he knew his own hand, helped ground him.

He wanted to protest, but he remembered the ED-209s in China, the ones that patrol OmniCorp at night. But that was OmniCorp, not him. He was just a doctor.

A vulnerable, not-a-lot-of-fight-in-him doctor.

It made a brutal kind of sense, if you were used to thinking like a criminal, which Alex might have been, but Dennett was not. "Alex. If I'm a target...." He doesn't really want to say it, but it makes the same logical sense of going after him to get to Alex, "isn't your family?" There was an urgency in his voice, the tone of 'why are you still here?'
yourmove: (059)

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-03-29 03:55 am (UTC)(link)
"My family," Alex repeated and for a second he didn't seem to know who they were talking about. His face went even blanker behind the visor. "Clara and David Murphy."

They were so inconsequential to his day-to-day operations that he hadn't thought about them. At all. Clara's infractions were minor and David didn't have any: therefore not even blips on his radar. Alex had larger problems to deal with now - such as kidnapped doctors - and he simply didn't see the point of worrying. But reviewing Norton's words and today's crime, he had to come to that same conclusion. Both of them were at risk. His own name and face was out there. It would be easy to track down the address and try the same thing with innocent civilians. Alex might not feel that same attachment but he did feel a sense that he should protect them as much as any other innocent bystander.

Alex tilted his head, looking at something only he could see.

"No 911 calls from Clara," He simply couldn't match that urgency rising the pitch of Norton's voice. "I can check on the house after I make sure you're back safely."

In his mind, Dennett Norton still placed higher on his priority list than his own wife and kid. Alex turned and started trooping back toward his motorcycle down the ramp, expecting Norton to follow.
biomechatronic: (safe distance this time)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-29 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yes. They could be targets, too." And Dennett would have reminded Alex, had he been asked, that the doctor was currently un-kidnapped, and therefore, Alex's priority list had just cleared.

"Alex, I didn't make a 911 call, either." It was no indication of danger, at all. And who knew, if another group heard about what happened here, if they'd bother keeping them alive for ransom. It was a chilling thought, and Dennett could hardly call his relationship with Clara 'close'. "It would make me feel better if you checked on them."

And there he went again, manipulating Alex, just externally this time. But someone had to be Alex's conscience: when he got to repair the damage he'd done to Alex's brain, he would not want Alex to have that kind of regret, that he hadn't looked after his family. He'd seen how Alex responded, in China, even to the idea of Clara.

yourmove: (011)

Figure station->musebox to Clara's?

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-03-30 10:52 am (UTC)(link)
Alex paused again, stopping in his tracks, facing forward as he processed the words. Norton's feelings ultimately didn't have a large impact on Detroit's crime rate - but a happy employee was a more productive one and while he doubted the man was happy about nearly getting shot in the face, he could at least humor him. Provided he was fit to travel. (Alex's HUD seemed to think he was).

"You're still at risk," Alex said, with that cold finality he wouldn't have had in his voice if it wasn't for Norton. "I'll escort you to the station, then check on the Murphys."

He said Murphys like he wasn't one of them, as if there wasn't some invisible line that should be dividing his family from the rest of Detroit. From people like, say, Dennett Norton, who he only knew a few months instead of years.

It didn't take long for the ambulance to arrive, Alex waiting there patiently by his motorcycle, a physical reminder the doctor had created a damn good pawn for OmniCorp. Looking after its assets, all on his own, thinking it was all his own idea instead of that AI spelling out why a doctor is more important than his own family. Raymond Sellars would be proud - once he stopped tearing Chief Dean a new one over the phone.
Edited (oops went to present tense) 2014-03-30 10:59 (UTC)
biomechatronic: (i'll show you illegal)

sounds perfect!

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-31 01:17 am (UTC)(link)
What Dennett needed, right now, was to not think about what just happened. It wasn't maybe the most healthy method of coping, perhaps, but it was his: worrying about someone else was almost a default mode for him.

And truth be told, he'd done wrong by Clara, in that not-intentional lie. It was maybe a small amends to send Alex to her for at least a little bit.

He tried his best to hide the shiver: as the adrenaline faded, it seemed to send chills through him that just highlighted the difference between his all too frail body and Alex's almost invulnerable one.

He was almost glad for the EMTs swarming over him, where they could fall into simple medical chatter that gave him some sort of distance and control over it. He would also like a few words with Sellars about this, mostly about the automatic lethal response. There had to have been another way, he thought, even as he managed a wan smile at Alex as the EMTs loaded him in to the vehicle.
yourmove: (073)

Re: sounds perfect!

[personal profile] yourmove 2014-03-31 06:34 am (UTC)(link)
Alex stepped back to allow the EMTs to do their job. He didn’t give Norton an encouraging wave as he was loaded up, instead swiveling and mounting his motorcycle in one easy motion. The doors closed.

* * *


It took a few hours plus some OmniCorp coaxing to get Norton back at the station – if there was one thing they hadn’t ever fixed over the years, it was the wait time at the ER. Having Raymond Sellars to apply a little pressure, drop some promises about a new building extension, and suddenly Norton was bumped to the first in line, past the broken legs and the kid who was clutching a stabbed hand, glaring daggers at the doctor as he was chosen first. There was even a black town-car waiting for Norton to take him to the station. Same driver, too, from that night they interviewed at The Novak Element.

Sellars and Chief Dean were waiting in her office, the CEO in a summer jacket with his hair looking frazzled for a change. Alex was already there, sitting in one of the chairs instead of standing like he preferred to. He didn’t turn all the way to face Norton as he came in, although his head canted slightly to the side, unclear if he was trying to warn Norton or just acknowledging his presence.

“Sit down.” Chief Dean said, voice tight. “We can’t have this happening. You,” she stabbed a finger Alex’s direction, “can’t pull this cowboy stunt. I told you over and over we have to follow protocol. You could’ve gotten Dr. Norton killed.”

Alex sat there, looking out of place in that chair next to Norton, his hands resting in his lap instead of the armrests. “My analysis pro – ”

Dean made a sharp cutting gesture with her hand, visibly counted to three, and turned to Norton.

“We would’ve had you out. They were cooperating. You wouldn’t have gotten shot if it wasn’t for Detective Murphy’s actions.”

It was the kind of remark that would’ve had Alex going tense, eye dilated, teeth gritted together. No cop wanted to hear those words. But Alex merely took it passively, even nodded a little as if he agreed with that point, at least.
Edited (typos) 2014-03-31 07:08 (UTC)
biomechatronic: (safe distance this time)

[personal profile] biomechatronic 2014-03-31 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)
It had been a struggle, in the car, because Sellars, in his infinite ability to know just about everything, had sent a new shirt along with the driver. On the one hand, it felt like taking some sort of bribe or buy off. On the other hand, they'd cut his old shirt off him in the ER, and knowing he was going back to DCPD, he couldn't bring himself to show up there wearing nothing but a bandage above the waist.

After that struggle, the one that eased his injured muscles into the shirt was almost secondary, giving him just enough time to start fretting about what he'd face at the station and there he was in the Chief's office, sitting on that kind of furniture designed to look nice rather than to be sat in, Chief Dean nearly wagging a finger in his face.

"We-we don't know that. I mean, they knew I'd seen them, that I could identify them. Why would they have let me go?" It was clear Dennett got his knowledge of policing from television shows, but still, he didn't like the way she'd turned on Alex. "Alex is the best shot in the department, Chief Dean. I felt perfectly safe."

Perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, but not on that point: Alex would not have a crossfire incident.

Dean scowled. "Don't you start spinning this on me. I'm not the press. I'm not Raymond Sellars. This is a matter of insubordination." She pointed. "He knew we handled it. This shouldn't be a problem." The way she said the last, it meant she was sick of Alex Murphy going off the reservation. It had been a problem before, and she'd thought that at least that particular pain in her ass was over.

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