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(Setting) Cathedral-2 GCPD Station 6
| >AM, dressed in tattered clothesline, collar around his neck, approaches the checkpoint, his backpack full of documents ready, his face and hands covered in bandages.
"Officers."
>He greets the guards at the gate.
| >>128510
"ID and purpose?"
>One officer says briskly. As if having had already said those words a few hundred times in his life.
>He raises an eyebrow once he notices the bandages however
| "Here is the ID and Medical exemption. I am coming in to check in with officer Ferris."
>AM moves his backpack to his front, and pulls out an ID, and a medical paper, exempting him from face ID.
>On the ID itself, reads:
>First Name: John
>Last Name: Doe
>Birthdate: 01.01.XX
>The picture shows a masked man.
| >>128519
>The officer gives a -very- skeptical expression upon reading the name 'John Doe' and the 1-1 Birth date. But recognizing the collar around his neck waves him in
"Head on down to room B-6 in the basement."
| >AM silently takes his paper, and goes in to the police station, putting away his ID and paper.
| >On heading inside a few officers give the masked man various looks recognizing his collar. Some dirty, some curious. while others plain blank
"Was he the guy that..."
"That incident where we lost both Hopkins and Burr..."
"Why isn't he in the slammer"
"I'd put one right through his head in his sleep for Joey"
"...Dude"
>Various murmurs follow
| >AM puts his head down in shame, and picks up his pace to the basement. His eyes getting wetter.
| >Inside room B-6 is a single officer sitting with his foot up the table, chair tilting backwards. He has blonde slicked back hair and a pointed jawline. Giving him a rather douchey impression.
| >AM gets to the room, and closes the door behind him. He takes a look around the room.
| >AM gets his backpack, and pulls out the relavent documents.
| >He keeps his head down.
| >Room B-6 seems to be an Interrogation room with metal plated walls. A Heavy Metal door with large outside locks. Camera's and another Heavily sealed door next to a pane of one way glass
| "Seems you're here"
>Officer douchey remarks
>Just then A pair of heavier armed officers enter. Rolling in a portable device that seems to be an Xray
"Please place any objects on your person on the table and step in here"
>One of the armored officers tells AM after placing the XRay
| >AM puts his bag on the table, and fishes out his keys to his apartment. He steps in to the X-ray.
| >The Xray takes multiple runs through AM, going from top to bottom. Scanning for Augs, hidden weapons, chips or any anomalies in AM's body
| >They find his prosthetic hand, and large amounts of scar tissue covering his body. They also find something on his leg...
| "Got papers for your aug? License. Certification. Model, Contact info for the specialist that applied it."
>After seeing that he's unarmed, Officer douchey places a call on his radio. A balding, four-eyed doctor follows inside.
| >AM pulls out 2 piece of paper out of his bag, one for his arm and one for his leg. Both are signed by a Dr. Dwight Schrute.
|
|
| >On the paper for the hand reads:
Licence: R&D
Certification: Keter (Prototype Aug worn for development)
Model: [REDACTED]
Contact Info: Dr. Dwight Schrute, Phone No. XXX-XXX-XXXX.
>On the paper for the leg aug reads:
Licence: Medical
Certification: Safe
Model: Cyberdyne Heart-Helper Rev. B-B Ver. 1.4
Contact Info: Dr. Dwight Schrute, Phone No. XXX-XXX-XXXX.
| >Officer douchey looks through the papers, runs them through a scanner then hands them back to AM
"Seems to be in order. Got a SIN and licenses for your... 'business'?"
| "..."
>He pulls out more paper from his bag.
>The first paper is a Contract from Cain's Gallery:
Pay: 20000z/month
Title: "R&D Lead"
Licences Held: Gunsmiths and development of firearms up to class 8 Licence
Explosives Licence.
Thaumiel Aug. Licence
>He also pulls out his ID from his wallet.
First Name: John
Family Name: Doe
SIN: RNDW-0014-A632
DOB: 01.01.XX
| "Reports say you handle something close to a PMC. We'll need some documents on that."
>Officer douchey says as he boredly looks through the documents, keeping with his look, scan procedure.
>He raises an eyebrow on seeing the name John Doe, the 1.1.XX DOB and the masked ID picture
"Are you serious? Did you get conned into this real shoddy job"
>He says sarcastically, but still running the card through the scanner to bring up the database
| >the database would contain a facial and physical profile, Name, age, place of origin, address, current residence or residences, Family relations, Employment history, Tax identification number, medical history and criminal history.
As well as confirmations on given licenses
| 1/2
>But the card clears. It shows basic data, but anything further is redacted.
Aliases: AnoMeat, Ano
Age: 44
Current Residence: Flat 12, 34 Portman Avenue, Uptown.
Tax ID: 412-3244-2352-234
Name: [REDACTED]
Place of Origin: [REDACTED]
Employment History:
JAN 20XX - Cain's Gallery
DEC 20XX - JAN 20XX AnoMeat's Gun Store
- DEC 20XX [REDACTED]
Medical History: [REDACTED]
Family relations: All known relatives deceased.
DOB: [REDACTED]
Criminal Record: [REDACTED]
Notes: [REDACTED]
| 2/2
Licences:
Thaumiel Aug. Licence
Explosive Ordinance Licence
Gunsmith and Development Class 10
Open Carry Licence Class 2
Concealed Carry Licence Class 4
[REDACTED]
"There was no PMC. Only a pipe-dream."
| >Officer douchey appears utterly flabbergasted by the data. but collects himself shortly after and replaces his expression with an annoyed one.
"With the amount of deckers that get into our databases... I'm not even surprised anymore. Too bad for you that this is -another- case on your list."
"Guess it's time to fix this up somewhat"
>Officer douchey gives the doctor a look, waving a finger circularly basically saying 'remove the bandages'
| "DON'T! D-don't remove them. It hurts without them."
>AM shouts in desperation.
"You just don't have the clearance level to see the information. Just take a look at where the data is coming from."
>He talks about the SIN ID.
| Umm... Hello?
>A girl enters the Station, obviously confused.
| >Officer douchey is a bit surprised at AM suddenly raising his voice. But the sudden mystery quickly makes him inqusitive
"Clearance? We should have complete access to the basic data of every normal citizen. So why don't we huh?"
| >>132604
"ID and purpose?"
>An officer by the front gate says in a bored, mechanical tone. One worn down by a few thousand repetitions
| "Because normal civilians don't get class 10 and Thaumiel licenses I worked for a government at one point if I say more I die and everyone in this station who heard me dies and I don't want that and it's horrible"
>AM rambles, his hands clutching his head.
| >>134245
"Known relatives deceased. No face. No biodata. No access to records. Something about a government and a silencing protocol.
...What are you?"
>Officer douchey and the surrounding officers get more and intrigued. While the doctor makes a visual examination of AM's bandages and Xray.
| "I am whatever you say I am if I wasn't then why would I say I am?"
>AM keeps rambling. As the doctor takes a closer look at the bandages, It seems from the skin visible near his eyes, that he suffered an acid attack, and the scar tissue has not completely regrown. From the X-rays, you can see that the arm has a hollow compartment, currently empty, and a tiny aug on his leg.
| "You know this doesn't make it any easier for you as it does for us."
"Doesn't fair well at all for making your release any sooner"
>Officer douchey replies, not taking the mystery and the roundabouts very well
>The doctor takes note of the acid damaged tissue. He then pulls out a bit of rubber to be used as a tourniquet and a large syringe for a blood extraction.
| "..."
>AM plops his arm on to the table, waiting for the doc.
| >The doctor takes a large blood sample. Empties it into a syringe
"Next up is your psych tests. Which'll be handled by Dr. Marley"
"Unless there's anything you wanna say about all this missing info or give us any clue about who or what you are. You may go"
>Officer douchey rubs his temples. Pondering about what they should do or how they should deal with this mess of a profile
| (And Empties it into a test tube*)
| "I pick shrink."
>AM stiffens up on the mention of his past life.
| "No Ferris. We're not gonna go through the process of giving you a DUI just because you drove your vehicle 30 meters out of a parking lot. It's a waste of time. We both have better things to do."
>An officer explains monotonously somewhere in the main lobby
| "I... I have to go."
>AM picks up his bag and goes for the door, looking for the bathroom.
| >>135637
>The pair of heavier armed officers follow, directing him back upstairs into the main lobby
| >As AM gets in to a bathroom stall, he shuts the door behind him, and begins throwing up in to the bowl.
"Hup. hup. fuck."
>He reaches in to his bag, and grabs an auto injector, stabbing it into himself.
"Bah. better. Can't fall asleep, Can't let him return."
>He cleans himself up, and proceeds to the lobby, from where he will leave the station.
| >AM'd see Ferris in casual attire. Her White hair tied into a long, messy ponytail tucked into a racing jacket. Headphones hang around her neck. Looking rather youthful in contrast to her usual position and demeanor. Conversing with a uniformed officer at the front desk
>Before AM leaves, officer douchey informs him to report to a known pyscho therapist, Dr. Marley's office. For further psychological testing and documentation
| >AM walks over to Ferris.
"Hey Ferris. Ready to make that gun? We can talk on the way."
| "Finally"
>The uniformed officer says in relief, turning towards AM
"I'm here to escort you to Dr. Marley for the next and final step"
>Ferris continues after the officer
"Ummmm. Uhhh. Well.. I kinda forgot what I wanted... Hmmm.. something, we'll get to that later. I'll come with to see Dr. Marley though"
>The alcohol Ferris' been drinking while in her apartment has obviously hit.
>She turns towards the officer to finaly for the 4th time, solidify a question
| "I'm pretty sure DUI doesn't have a specified distance before it's considered. As long as one's caught in control of the vehicle while under the influence at any point. I think..."
"And to ignore that would be neglect of duty... Or something.."
"Oh for the love of- Fine, we'll process your violation tomorrow"
| "Don't worry Officer, I'll get Ferris to her AA meeting."
>AM flatly says, with a hind of sarcasm.
"Come on Ferris, lets go."
| >>135767
"Not so fast You're not done yet. I'm supposed to drive you to the psychologist for an examination."
"Nahhh we haven't even made a booking yettt what if he's busy"
>Ferris slurs in response
>The officer pauses in realization of the hiccup in their procedure.
"If he's occupied, then we'll book"
| "Yeah. I'm occupied, Officer, in getting some help for myself."
>AM snarks at the Officer.
| "ugh if Dr. Marley's occupied. Look lets just try and get this all done and over with in one day."
>The officer keeps composure, but clearly does not enjoy the situation
"Actually... I second that. Besides I wanna see the Doctor And his daughter too~
Nice people"
| >Ferris straightens up, struggling slightly to put on her usual take-charge attitude
"We're going to the psychologist. Reynolds drive."
| "I will. As long as you get off my case, I'll even deal with Ferris."
>AM begins to head out the entrance, passing the girl.
| >>135782
>Ferris and the Reynolds head to one of the parked cruisers. Ferris takes shotgun while Reynolds holds the door open for AM, he doesn't say any more specifically wanting to avoid any more conversation
| "Oh look, Miss Hard-Ass is back."
>AM gets in the back of the cruiser, and gets comfortable.
"So what's this gun you want me to make?"
>He casually asks the question.
| >The cruiser heads off to the psychologists office
"It went something hmm... I need a rapid fire weapon with a sizeable magazine that can be carried and shot one handed. I wouldn't mind a small caliber. I carry a .50 for the big stuff."
"It's not entirely necessary but I got curious when I saw how small an FN P90 is. A TMP or MP9 seems small enough to one hand too, but aren't entirely designed for that. So i was thinking if adjustments could be made"
| >random rises in tone, speed ups and slow downs and chaotic intonation assure that Ferris isn't exactly sober yet
| "So an Automatic, Armour-piercing, compact gun."
>AM thinks a bit.
"I got FMG9, Glock 18, MP9, MP7. pick your frame."
>AM feels bad for ruining Ferris' day off, until he remembers the Fenrir scare.
| "An MP9 would be compact enough and hold a decent 30 round mag. Adjustments are for recoil and control I guess. Ammo's easier to find too. But would an MP7 have more stopping power?"
| "MP9 got common the 9mm, and is fairly compact, but a MP7 got specialised ammo, and is about the same size. I can change the calibre to a select choice of bullets."
>AM lists out the options.
| "A small and common caliber's good. Getting something bigger might make the weight and recoil a problem. which is against the whole one handing schtick I'm in."
| "Alright. I got something for you then, but you have to pay me back differently. It's a handgun I developed, which has automatic fire. It runs on 5.7 ammunition, which is what they use in the P90. you get about 30 per mag. But you need to report to me weekly on its usage and any issues."
| "Experimental huh, sure"
"would make a good alt to the wrist-breaking monster I bought from you that one time"
>Ferris doesn't look back, but seems rather happy with having a gun made.
"hmmm~ hmmm~"
>She hums to herself as she pulls out a flask and takes another drink
| "You mind sharing Ferris?"
>AM stares at Ferris.
| "Ahhh surrre~"
>She hands AM the flask
"There're a lot of weird cocktails in this city. But nothing takes me back like good ol' Vodka"
>She says with a hint of nostalgia
| >AM takes a swig, but spits it out the window, hoping Ferris doesn't notice.
"Jesus Ferris! This tastes of paint stripper!
>He hold out the bottle for Ferris to take back.
| "Oh my~ I may just be a better drinker than you"
>She teases as she takes the flask back and takes a big swig. But coughs at the sudden painful warmth going down her throat
"What do you drink anyway, I get there are types"
| "The Brown stuff. Whiskey. Stuff that's not paint stripper. You mind if I smoke?"
>AM teases Ferris' choice of drink.
| "Sure, The PD cruisers are smoked in all the time anyway."
>Ferris replies with an amount of spite directed at the other officer
>Sure enough, the cruiser's leather seats smelled of cigarette smoke anyway. Officer Reynolds gives a little chuckle while Ferris leans closer to her window
| >AM Pulls out his thin metal box, with sum interesting marking on it. He pulls a cigarillo, and begins smoking it.
"Are we there yet?"
| "Almost"
>The Cruiser eventually comes to a stop at a certain Parking lot
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| >GCPD station 6 is a relatively small station surrounded by concrete walls lined with cameras. Passing the metal gate checkpoint guarded by a bored looking pair of officers is a concrete lot where multiple GCPD cruisers and motorcycles are kept neatly parked. By the cruisers a few officers can be seen here and there smoking and conversing to one another. All in all there doesn’t seem to be much going on in the station.