dear_mun | canon is the robocop reboot. ya rly.

[You're not so alone, kid.]

My mun hasn't seen the reboot. Not much interest from her, to be honest. But I'm here - even if rusty.

If I were a bigger jerk than even I am, I'd be makin' a crack about "rusty".

[Facial equivalent of a "eh what can you do?" shrug goes here.]

Nice to meet you, either way. Detective Anne Decker. [Handshake?]

I know that feeling.

Frustrated? Impatient? Like you're havin' your time wasted? All of the above?

Definitely all of the above.

Well it's nice to know I'm in good company. [Not really.]

We'll start a club. Even get some t-shirts.

Sorry. Never been much for clubs. Appreciate the spirit, though.

Could be worse. You could be dating a raging jackass.

[Ohai face twin.] Even my taste's not quite that bad. Luckily.

[Ohai there.] He's actually tolerable, for the most part. And I do know how to make him crazy.

Well then, sounds like you're both all set. Good times.

So far, so good. Nice call on the face, there.

Gee, thanks. Right back at you, even.

My mundane's laughing pretty hard right now about the fact in the backstory she came up for me, I'm supposed to have a twin. [So, basically, she's already supposed to be used to this.]

Ha, nice. Well, unless you want her to be a lawyer in New York, I don't think that it's me. [Scottie just grins at that.]

Although, we need more icons. It's a shame there's only like one set of icons.

Not close, even. Baby sis is in the Air Force. [Yes, she calls her twin "baby sis". A few minutes still counts.]

You noticed, huh? Yeah. It's kind of a pain. 'Specially since I'm not really the type for dress-up...could use a few more shots of me in t-shirt and a ponytail. But hey, what can you do?

Yeah, my mun is just dealing with the two icons for me for the time being. My boyfriend doesn't seem to mind, so. [Shrugs.]

Dana Scott. I'm with Pearson Specter.

[Nods.] Detective Anne Decker, DCPD.

Hi, Anne. You're ever in New York, come by the office. I'd love to watch Harvey freak out.

Don't think I'll have the time, but if I ever wind up in the neighborhood? I'll seriously consider it.

Please do. I'm having a good week, I've already landed the one client he couldn't snag.

Oh, they're around. At least a few Alexs are. And a Dr. Norton. I haven't seen any Jacks around, yet, but he might pop up eventually.

Guess I just didn't look hard enough the first time, then. Something of a relief.

He...they...[Clara still doesn't know how to feel about there being multiple versions of her husband running around and has no clue whether plurals should apply this this situation, buuut whatever.] ...tend to pop up in memes.

I'm pretty sure we haven't met yet. I'm Clara, Clara Murphy.

Edited 2014-03-10 16:34 (UTC)

Plan wasn't to send me to any of those. Types like me aren't usually all that welcome around those parts. Maybe she should reconsider.

Uh, yeah. Right. Saw you on the news a couple times. ["Hope your life's going better now", she does not say, out loud. But there's enough a pause with her eyes a fraction too wide as she looks sideways, that maybe Clara can hear her thinking it.] Detective Anne Decker. New to the DCPD.

Welcome to the club. [With Alex's voice these days, it's hard to tell if he's joking or not - that's what you get when you have an electronic double-tone you can't shake even if your life depended on it and one of the world's best poker faces. He probably would've been made a killing at Vegas if he wasn't busy trying to detain most of the casino guests for tax evasion and check fraud. And he hadn't been preemptively banned as bad for business. And if he was a gambling cyborg.

He towers over Decker, pulling up her records] Word of advice? Don't get fancy around Old Detroit.

Glad to be here. Sort of. [Her poker face consists mostly of a snide look, herself. Like she both simultaneously doesn't know how to relax and doesn't know how to take anything completely seriously. How effective it is after awhile depends on personal perspective, though, considering she just about never takes it off.

She looks up at him, more unsettled than intimidated. Her record is likely fairly short, considering she's only been an actual detective six months. Already though there might be a trend emerging: she's got a strong arrest record but there are some complaints about her not being exactly a team player and having a tendency to chomp at the bit too hard.] Hey, I look much like the 'fancy' type to you? I'm sure I can handle it.

[The record says enough - it says he probably would've liked working with her because there needs to be more people on the force who don't phone it in and that she probably would make great back-up in a bust. She's even mouthing off to him, like he used to mouth off to Chief Dean when he had something to prove and thought she'd have his back in the end.

Alex's lips twitch at the corners, faint but there, and he might even be fighting off a smile, as rare as those come to him these days]

Don't make my mistakes is what I'm saying, Detective. Your partner's your greatest asset.

[Provided they don't get shot. Or they're not corrupt. Detective Decker might have her work cut out for her, but she could be the kind of new blood the DCPD needs at this point]

[Whaaat, one proven cowboy cop liking a second one in the making? Go on. But yeah, if there's one thing she gives a damn about it, it's definitely doing her job and her best to make sure justice actually gets served. Tunnel-vision determined and manic as that can make her, some days.

She sees that pseduo-smile. Weird as the situation might be, it gives her a sense of accomplishment.]

Never had much of a real partner before. Guess there's a first time for everything. [But her tone albeit more serious now is withdrawn. The idea's hard for her to swallow as is making friends. Sounds like a thing that comes naturally...to other people.] My new one's your old, you know. Jack Lewis.

[Alex’s head shifts down and slightly to the side, the motion almost too smooth, too precise. It’s not like a human’s, full of hesitation and second thoughts] That so? He’ll definitely have your back. Best partner you could ask for.

[And Alex isn’t even laying it on thick just because: Jack’s always been there as his former partner and his buddy and he’s always been pretty good about the newbies. Doesn’t even haze them or anything. Anyway, somehow he doubts Decker’s the kind of detective you’d want to haze. She reminds him of a coiled spring from the way she holds herself, like she’s gearing up for something.]

[She folds her arms at chest level and shifts her weight, trying to make the posture change more incidental than it is. Tries to offset the defensiveness she can't shake with a smile and unblinking eyes, though it comes off a little rictus.

The thing that's going through her head is "oh so that's what uncanny valley means". Every time she heard it before, felt like an egghead thing, just smoke to blow. Now she gets it. Everything Murphy does is kinda...off.

Funny thing is, anyone else she'd take it personal. But she figures here it's not intentional, so.

The testimonial about Lewis gets a thoughtful look askance, and a nod. Accepting the information for what it is: useful, and likely correct. And positive.]

Well. If you say so. Guess I'm in safe hands then. Good to know. [There's a lingering pause in her tone. Something she's double-guessing herself on saying.]

[He can figure what Detective Decker's doing: she's trying to find her place, measure him up while he's doing the same back and she's probably prepared for macho cops and their baggage instead of graphene cops. To her credit, she doesn't hide the fact she's staring. Just does it openly, almost like it's a question of who blinks first.]

Just don't touch his first cup of coffee in the morning and you'll be set.

[Oh yeah, macho cops: she could write the book on macho cops. Maybe even if Murphy had been more of the same, just wrapped up in a shiny outer shell, this would be less weird for her.]

So long as he's not crazy enough to do the same, we're set. Speaking of, is the swill here as bad as it was at my last precinct?

It's actually pretty good, from what I remember.

[Unfortunately, he doesn't drink coffee anymore. The glucose solutions they give him seem to work better than a caffeine wake-up call, but what can he say: he misses the little stuff like wondering if he'd dirty his coffee with all that junk like cream and sugar]

It's one of the perks of working here.

[Another Alex another time might've said "one of the few perks". This one, however, leaves it at that]

From what you -- oh, yeah. Right. [That gets a second's pause, a look away. She's doing that juggling act in her head, wondering whether it's okay to ask questions or not. In the end she decides to just let this one go.

At his next remark though she looks back and manages one of her flippant little smiles again.]

I hear there's more than a few. Guess this means I've hit the big time.

[It's a look he's still getting used to, that slight defocus of the eyes shifting away from his face. He's had it from just about every cop in the station, starting from the day he walked in with a billion dollar body.

Typically, Alex isn't the kind of cop to feel sorry for himself all the time because he got passed up for promotion or someone beat him to the coffee, but he was still human - when only something like 30% of your original body left and it sinks in you couldn't even walk without the chassis, you're allowed to feel a little sorry yourself, in his opinion. ]

I'm assuming you got the grand tour?

[With things like these, the way she figures is: either someone's always asking questions and by now it's gotten to be a sore spot, or no one ever asks and it might be a change of pace if they did.

The trick is, which one is the right one. But by now if she guessed wrong, it's too late anyway to make it right. So, moving on with the conversation it is.]

I got a tour. Don't know if I'd call it 'grand'. I'd ask if you wanna finish showing me around, but I'm sure you got something better to do.

[It's said with a grin and a little half-shrug, though. Not a half-assed excuse to exit the conversation. If he really wants to stick around, it's fine by her.]

[Alex can guess what the tour was: someone showing the newbie around going "this is the break room, don't sit in that chair because it will knock you on your ass" and "that's Officer Lewis's desk". Maybe even "Don't touch Bagel Friday". Stuff along those lines.]

I was filing paperwork. [Traffic infractions. Not his idea of a productive use of time, but crime has been oddly sparse the last two week and he's been programmed to be "exceptionally good" at paperwork. Other cops like to add to his pile. This is the part where Alex would shrug, except his new body doesn't seem to be equipped for it despite being able to take out a room of bad guys, no problem. He hasn't gotten around to asking Norton why he can graft less-than-half-a-man to a graphene chassis but he can't figure out how replicate shrugging]

This way, Detective.

[And here they go, (Grand) Tour Part II. First stop, vending machines. Alex towers Anne, his head swiveling toward the Coke machine with his torso following half a second later, the motion smooth but segmented in a way that's uncanny valley.]

Always select Sprite. [Alex is sadly proud that he remembers that, what with all the subroutines and protocols swimming around his skull, thanks to Omnicorp. Sometimes it seemed like they crowded out everything else, everyting that made him Alex Murphy and not this RoboCop[] Trust me.

[She's a touch surprised, but when she waits a pause before following him it's with a little wave of her hand, a playful "after you" gesture. If nothing else this should be somewhere between illuminating and entertaining, maybe even a little bit of both.

If she was the type for constant self-analysis, she might be asking herself why she's perfectly comfortable with talking to this guy, like there's nothing to it. But, well, that's not her thing.

She's good so far. And if she can handle it, why not? Here they go.

A couple heads turn to stare at the sight of the tiny newbie lady cop getting led around the precinct by their very own local cyborg officer. She acts like she doesn't notice and doesn't look back. They'd be staring at her regardless anyway.]

Really? Why? What happens if I don't?

[She puts her hands on her hips as she gives him an amused, questioning look. Glancing to the vending machine like her finger's itching to push another button, just to see. It kind of is.

Oh, she's seen the battered precinct vending machines before. It either shoots something out too fast (a literal bottle rocket), always eats your coin, or gives you Mountain Dew instead of Mister Pibb. So which one is this exciting new variant of defective?]

[Alex demonstrates for Decker, something he probably wouldn’t have done if he was flesh and blood: he selects Coke, the machine rattles and shakes and with a thunk, shoots out a can like an aluminum missile. It would’ve hit him square in the crotch if he hadn’t been granted a few extra inches by his graphene chassis. Now it just slams into his thigh, with enough force that another man would’ve limped off unable to breathe. He remembers a personal encounter with it his first week on the force. Lewis had let him learn the hard way, apparently. Something about tradition.

The Coke bounces off Alex and rolls underneath a filing cabinet, the old, outdated ones people usually just stash stuff into and forget. It’s as much a part of the station as this particular vending machine. “Give it character”, supposedly]

See?

[It’d hurt no matter who you were (short of being a cyborg). Alex tracks the can, the HUD’s reticule following its progress. Short of moving the entire cabinet, he can’t reach it, but measuring Decker’s arm length and arm diameter, he thinks she can. His face swivels toward her with that soft whirr]

Mind getting that?

[She laughs, spontaneous and loud, if brief. It's an unrestrained sound. Like no one ever taught her to keep it down and be polite when she was a kid. Oh, they tried teaching her all right, she just never listened.

But she's always up for a good joke. Nothing more classic than a little slapstick.]

Now I really gotta thank you for the warning. 'Cus otherwise, that'd have probably got me right in the navel. [Shakes her head.] And I thought the machine that always shredded my Cheetos was bad.

[She blinks at him for a second, tracks the gaze from him to where the can is hiding. Catches on.]

Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure.

[She gets closer to the cabinet, crouches a bit, and then drops to her hands and knees without pause to get her arm under there from the easiest angle. She has to tilt her head way back and to the side to glance up at him, speaking to him as she's still rifling among the dust.]

Hope you don't want it after right away though. Thing'll go off in your face.

[Alex has another one of those almost-smiles on his face. The skin around his eyes seems to react slightly more, showing laugh lines.]

Pretty sure this machine would kick that one’s ass, Detective.

[At the subject of drinking, Alex shakes his head, a surprisingly human gesture he has to actively remind himself to do. His instinct these days is to go too-still, to conserve his resources and attention to the things that really mattered. Jack had to remind him to remember to nod and shake his head and work on the shrugging thing because it was the little things like that which still spooked the other officers. They wanted reminders he was still Alex inside, not just a robot wearing his face and using his voice.]

I can’t drink. [Alex wishes he could. Wishes he could say “don’t” instead of “can’t”. But no stomach means no Coke and he’s not even sure what would happen if he tried to drink it anyway. It could either hit delicate circuitry and fry his insides or it could just make a sticky mess and piss off Dr. Norton once he opened the chassis up and got hit in the face with days old Coke.] Probably better to toss it.

Hey, you can say that one again.

[Her flippant manner gets knocked aside though, when he responds to her about the Coke. At first she gives him a bemused frown, and then -- oh. Right. Of course. Didn't they practically just have this conversation already?

This is what she gets for never paying attention when she should.

Her head drops awkwardly, breaking gaze as she focuses on getting the can instead. Not saying anything.

When she retrieves her prize though, she stands up, goes back to being right in from of him, Coke still in her hand. She looks at her shoes for a beat, chewing on the inside of her lip as she thinks. Not asking anything the first time didn't seem to be the right move. But now here's a second window opening up. Maybe try the second option this time.

She meets his eyes, curious and a little off-put. But not...weirded out, exactly. Not tense.]

So there ain't nothing inside there or anything, for plumbing? Not even a tube? That just seems...mean. How you supposed to relax off-duty without a beer?

[And there’s that look – or, rather, that pause. The one where most people have that silence that lasts for a few seconds too long to not be awkward, the one where Alex guesses they’re trying to figure out what to say to a cyborg. Like they’re not sure what’s kosher, topic-wise. Maybe wondering if he has it in him to care]

I don’t. [That’s not all that’s missing, Alex thinking of “plumbing” and sighing mentally] I’m guessing that wasn’t a priority when they were getting my rig together.

[He never did ask if that was intentional – because more body functions was inconvenient, inefficient – or they really couldn’t save the majority of his body. Alex’s is still working on it, the whole coming to terms thing. He focuses on Decker, the Coke in her hand, the HUD’s reticules highlighting facial expression and basic body language cues. Curious. Wanting to know more. Not the same vaguely threatened body language he’s seen from a few of the other cops in the station]

canon is the robocop reboot. ya rly.

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