06-22-2017, 01:12 PM
Mad Bull glared suddenly at Isaac, a look of baneful distrust etched across the cop's chiseled jaw as the spaceman shined his light at the policeman.
“Shut that damned thing off or get it outta my face,” the Sergeant barked.
With a small audible click Isaac complied and turned off the flashlight. The burly cop approached him, a revolver at the ready in one hand and a gas can in the other. He studied Isaac for a moment, then satisfied the man bore him no harm, smiled grimly. The thick-chested officer congenially draped his pistol holding arm on Isaac's shoulder and tapped the barrel of the gun lightly on the metallic suit.
“That military issue?
“You could say that,” Isaac replied cool. “I was in the Merchant Marines.”
“That a fact! Well semper fi, Marine!” Mad Bull exhorted, totally missing the subtext of Isaac's reply. “Did a tour of 'Nam myself and shot Charlies for a good three years.” The Sergeant mused with a sigh.
He pulled on Isaac's shoulder and ushered him away from the other two. “Listen up tin-can, you seem alright so lemme bend yer ear a second. See that fella over there?” he asked pointing at Strazio. Isaac nodded within his powered suit. “Total drughead.” the cop spoke matter-a-factly. “W..what do you mean?” Isaac asked.
“You know… a junky, punk, pusher hophead lookin’ ta score a fix. Trust me kid, I'm a cop, see it all the time. I been keepin’ my eye on him since he twitched through the door.”
Mad Bull cocked a finger at Gamzee. “And that creep, who the hell knows! I'd guess he’s looped out on PCP, but he smells more like grape soda than angel dust.”
Isaac nodded noncommittally. The officer continued, “Look tin-pot, I'd bust 'em myself, but I got bigger fish to fry, know what I mean?”
“No. What *do* you mean?” Isaac asked.
Mad Bull rattled the half full gas can, letting the liquid slosh around. “Words out that an item is set to drop nearby. I got a ride outside that can take us there. She ain’t a beaut, but if I fill up the tank, I think we can ride easy to the drop zone. Whadda ya say?”
“Shut that damned thing off or get it outta my face,” the Sergeant barked.
With a small audible click Isaac complied and turned off the flashlight. The burly cop approached him, a revolver at the ready in one hand and a gas can in the other. He studied Isaac for a moment, then satisfied the man bore him no harm, smiled grimly. The thick-chested officer congenially draped his pistol holding arm on Isaac's shoulder and tapped the barrel of the gun lightly on the metallic suit.
“That military issue?
“You could say that,” Isaac replied cool. “I was in the Merchant Marines.”
“That a fact! Well semper fi, Marine!” Mad Bull exhorted, totally missing the subtext of Isaac's reply. “Did a tour of 'Nam myself and shot Charlies for a good three years.” The Sergeant mused with a sigh.
He pulled on Isaac's shoulder and ushered him away from the other two. “Listen up tin-can, you seem alright so lemme bend yer ear a second. See that fella over there?” he asked pointing at Strazio. Isaac nodded within his powered suit. “Total drughead.” the cop spoke matter-a-factly. “W..what do you mean?” Isaac asked.
“You know… a junky, punk, pusher hophead lookin’ ta score a fix. Trust me kid, I'm a cop, see it all the time. I been keepin’ my eye on him since he twitched through the door.”
Mad Bull cocked a finger at Gamzee. “And that creep, who the hell knows! I'd guess he’s looped out on PCP, but he smells more like grape soda than angel dust.”
Isaac nodded noncommittally. The officer continued, “Look tin-pot, I'd bust 'em myself, but I got bigger fish to fry, know what I mean?”
“No. What *do* you mean?” Isaac asked.
Mad Bull rattled the half full gas can, letting the liquid slosh around. “Words out that an item is set to drop nearby. I got a ride outside that can take us there. She ain’t a beaut, but if I fill up the tank, I think we can ride easy to the drop zone. Whadda ya say?”
Quote:Isaac & Mad Bull moving from Safehouse C to C21.