bakerstreet | fuck this, i just want to roleplay!

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fuck this, i just want to roleplay!

FUCK THIS, I JUST WANT TO ROLEPLAY

originally posted by

➘ This is a meme created for people who need a break from RL stuff right now and are just going: FUCK THIS, I JUST WANT TO ROLEPLAY

INSTRUCTIONS
➘ Post with your character below, listing their name and canon in the subject.
➘ Roll 1-10 RNG to roleplay out one of the scenes below or simply just tag!
➘ Roll to your hearts content, feel free to play out as many scenarios as you can.
➘ HAVE FUN WITH YOUR SHENANIGANS

SCENARIOS

01 » FIGHTING - Emotional or Physical. Your characters are not getting along. What do.
02 » DRINKING/DRUNK - Having a beer, dancing in a club, sipping some bubbly in the bathtub, being outrageously drunk.
03 » AWKWARD - Whoops. Your character just walked into something he shouldn't have.
04 » FLUFF - Walking in the rain together, pecks on the cheek, give us cavities.
05 » ROMANTIC - Play something shippy out. Mornings after, confessions, cuddles, smut, anything goes.
06 » IN YOUR SHOES/BODY SWAP - Your character wakes up to find themselves swapped in the world or the body of the person they've tagged.
07 » CONFESSIONS - Spill it. From, I've been secretly pining you forever to yes, I did eat the last pop tart.
08 » 7-MINUTES IN HEAVEN - Your characters are now stuck in a closet together for seven minutes (IE, MUST BE AT LEAST 7-POSTS)
09 » CRACK - Why is there a goat in our living room?
10 » WHATEVER - PLAY ANYTHING. THIS IS WHAT THIS MEME IS ABOUT.

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Of all the things Chell's realized she's upset that she missed out on while being stuck in the enrichment center, it's music. There's something about it that just speaks to something deep within her. Something that helps her get lost in it to the point where she doesn't feel like she has to look over her shoulder.

And, sure, not all of the music on her ~~stolen~~ happily found iPod is to her tastes, but it's still music. She's walking down a busy street, on her way to her current home from the job she obtained using some other woman's identity, happily bopping along to Led Zeppelin and paying absolutely zero attention to her surroundings.

Which is when her shoulder clipped something hard. Which hurt, dammit. She glanced up to see what she had walked into before blanching. This...is not what, or who, she expected. Or ever wanted to see again, to be completely honest.

Edited 2014-04-11 04:12 (UTC)

They stuck him back in that black number again after the run-in with the Ghost. The good news is Norton sedated him for most of it - he wished he could say all of it, but the new guy on the team must've miscalculated the sedation dosage because Alex remembers bits and pieces, gray smears of sights and sounds. Norton standing over him, a small splatter of red (blood? Brain fluid isn't red, is it?) on his gloves. Hearing "Jake" getting reamed out, something about getting the right actuator this time or so help him -

Alex had grayed out again around there, because when he woke up on the cradle, he was matte-black instead of silver.

He had some bad memories about being in this rig. Alex was pretty sure the general public wasn't entirely on board with it either after OmniCorp - when he walked down the street, he noticed more people giving him a wider berth than before, like they were afraid he'd start arresting them left, right and center. The black chassis is supposed to send a message to Human Focus. Maybe something like "you can't keep a good cop down" or "we're still coming for you".

Alex personally thinks that's the only one they had ready, what with the silver rig beat to hell. He misses it.

Bumping into someone brings him out of that auto-pilot he goes on sometimes: his head swivels, registers a too-familiar face, and the [ _ SUSPECT_ INITIATE ARREST ] plasters itself across his HUD, large as a banner. Alex's hand shoots out and grabs the Ghost's arm in a bruising grip.

"You're coming with me."

Chell suddenly wishes she had listened to her gut instinct and tried her damnedest to get out of Detroit. But that was then and she hadn't listened and now...well. She figures that saying she's fucked is putting it mildly. Though that doesn't stop her from trying to hide her terror and keeping her face as impassive as possible.

Which is fine except for the fact that the way he's holding her arm? Hurts like hell. Which she honestly believes she deserves, because she knows just how badly she messed him up the last time they met. And that running isn't an option this time, even if he wasn't holding onto her. There are somethings in life that need to be faced head on, and this is one of them.

So she makes a conscious effort not to struggle or listen to her instincts, which are telling her to run like hell. Instead she just stares up at him, trying to find something to say and coming up blank.

He could squeeze tighter and he'd probably be justified, after what she did to him in that house with that crowbar they're still trying to track down where the Ghost got it from.

"Your cooperation is appreciated," Alex says, words clipped, more for the benefit of the other pedestrians stopping to stare than hers. They get the message: most of them pointedly look the other way, a few gawkers don't (and they whip out phones to get photos) and that's about business as usual.

Turning, Alex marches the Ghost down a narrow alley after checking for outlines of weapons and satisfied she doesn't have Mattox's rifle anywhere near her. Just in case this goes south, he immediately relays a report back to the station, notifying them where he is, who he's with. He's of half a mind to tase her anyway, cooperation or no cooperation.

"Talk, starting with your name," Alex said, the black visor tilting toward her, his thigh holster primed to eject in case he did need to pacify her.

Honestly, if he broke her arm she wouldn't blame him one bit. Breathe much more raggedly as she tried to keep her head together and not cry out in pain? Yes. But blame him? Not at all, not after what she had done.

Chell most definitely isn't armed. It occurs to her at times that she should be. This is Detroit and, other than him, the collective eyes of Human Focus are constantly on the lookout for her these days. But not, the closest thing to a weapon that she keeps on her these days is a Swiss Army Knife that she found in a pair of jeans that she ~~stole~~ found, and she uses that less as a weapon and more as something to open stubborn things of food. And she doesn't even have that on her right now since she accidentally left it in the pair of jeans she wore the day before.

It hits he for a moment that she could just stop walking and make him drag her, but that isn't likely to help. If anything, it'll just dredge up memories of being dragged back into Aperture the first time she was supposed to escape and...no. She doesn't want that. And he deserves whatever he wants to bring down upon her, whether she likes it or not.

"Chell. Human Focus recruited me when I was found on a road up north. Probably won't find any recent records on me. But you already know that, don't you? Used that to their advantage to do some of their dirty work since I'm not in the system."

At least she didn’t start screaming bloody murder as she got dragged away – somehow he hadn’t pinned Chell as that kind of person from their previous…encounter.

“That’s what I figured,” Alex’s voice so flat he could almost mistake it for neurosuppression. There’s not a lot of Jane Does out there these days. People are constantly putting themselves out there, filling out too much information too freely and sometimes he catches himself wondering if that’s such a good idea after all. He remembered his parents going on about how it wasn’t like that in their day. “Only this time you didn’t deliver.”

He’d heard enough back on that floor, his body parts littered all over a kitchen that probably hadn’t been occupied until the Ghost started squatting in it.

His hand tightens a fraction around her arm. Dr. Norton has this way of making sure he doesn’t have nightmares, something about messing around again with sedatives, selected external stimulus and his neurochemistry: that’s the theory, anyway. It’s not exactly as neat and tidy as it says on the tin. Alex stares down at Chell, a petty, human part of him glad the visor denies eye contact. She’s seen what’s left of him, something not even Clara’s had a look at, and that’s more personal than he likes.

“Give me names, aliases, safe houses.” Chell was deemed important enough to take a crack at him with a weapon she shouldn’t have been able to get access to. It says she was high enough on the totem pole to be of interest. Alex sounds anything but forgiving right now.

Chell doesn't do screaming. Small groans and winces, sure, but not screaming. She isn't really sure if her vocal cords are capable of it. Logically, she knows they probably are, but she can't remember ever doing so. And speaking of winces, she winces as his grip on her arm tightens. She's been hurt worse, sure, but that doesn't change the fact that this hurts now and she'd love it if he were to stop. She's fairly certain he won't.

"How could I?" She stared up at his visor, to where she's certain his eyes are. Even without being able to see them, she remembers what they look like. How could she ever forget, after having them bore into her while she did terrible things to him. "After I knew the truth."

There's an opportunity here. She knows that, no matter what happens, she's probably going to be locked away again. She hates that, but maybe if she barters the information she has she can get some leniency. Or protection. "Don't let them touch me, and you'll get everything."

Alex is torn: on one hand, he's still (rightfully) pissed about being systemically dismantled. On the other, though, he's still a cop with or without the chassis and he knows better than to let his kneejerk reaction do all the talking. Well. He knows most of the time. The instinct to react is what got him in this in the first place.

"We'll work something out," Alex sounds a little reluctant. She's much more valuable alive and cooperative than (safely) dead. He knows that. "We'll need some concrete proof what you have is the real deal, though."

To his credit, his voice remains level. He doesn't need to stop and breathe and count to five. It's one of the few times he actually feels like having all that extra software stuck in here with him is a good thing. It's distracting, prevents him from getting hung up when he needs to be checking CCTV feeds and body language cues from Chell.

With a small nod, most of the tension dissipates from her shoulders. Which isn't to say that she doesn't want to run away, but, well, that's not going to happen right now. And she's pretty sure she'd rather take her chances with him than her former comrades. He has to obey the law, and Human Focus? They don't.

Maybe she was right when she said that Chell was a terrible person. It's crossed her mind once or twice since she left Alex dismantled in that house. Though, to be fair, a lot of things have crossed her mind since then.

"I have proof at my," Chell stops for a second. What the hell could she even call her dwellings? It wasn't a house or an apartment, it was the back rooms of an abandoned store. "...place. Or I could take you to one of the safe houses."

Edited 2014-04-22 17:34 (UTC)

Alex shakes his head. "You give me the addresses. We'll send a unit over to check it out. This isn't going to be a replay of next time."

He'd gone in overconfident, sure. But now that he knew he was a walking, breathing target just because most of him looked like a robot, Alex wasn't going to go in guns blazing just because. Human Focus had access to kit they shouldn't, toys that could kill him for good. If he wanted to keep doing his job, he needed to assume he couldn't solo this like all the other cases. Alex continues to stare down at Chell, studying her and the facial/emotional state analysis programs trying to come back with an accurate reading. It's hard. She doesn't have the most expressive of faces. Coupled with the fact he barely heard her speak before all this, isn't not surprising.

For all that Chell's been trying to reign in her expressions, the idea of someone walking into the hornet's nest that is most Human Focus safe houses gets a reaction out of her. "No, it won't. I know the traps they have set."

She's never been good with words. At least she doesn't remember ever being good with words. Maybe she was, once upon a time, but she can't be sure. She's pretty sure that if she was, she'd be able to voice a compelling argument why she needs to be the one to go in. Instead the best she can come up with is, "I don't want anyone to get hurt."

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