002 ↔ video

[5055034455]

[Saul's not a fan of using video on this thing. Anyone could be watching, and he's sure that's the case — which means he's about to show a hand of cards he never really wanted to — but he also knows he needs to come across as sincere and non-threatening as possible if he wants this request to be taken seriously. Text wouldn't work, voice... might, but also might not.

He still has his doubts, though. What he's about to do is ridiculous, even by his own standards. He'd laugh at anyone else making a suggestion like this, and he's half-tempted to laugh at himself, too, but when the feed clicks on and his image appears, he's all business. Literally: in a suit, at a desk, weapon laid out (for those who'd notice, the weapon is disengaged, the safety on; he's learning!), hands folded.]

This — [indicating the weapon, then lacing his fingers back together] — is a shotgun that's been modified to use non-lethal electrified bullets. The charge measures about 500 volts, and —

[There go his hands again, moving to retrieve one of the cartridges. He lifts it to the lens, waits for it to focus, then continues speaking.]

From what I understand, that should be enough to temporarily incapacitate a normal human being. But the problem is, I'm not sure. I've been using blanks on the dummies over in the Hold, so I have no idea what effect one of these things would actually have on a living, breathing person. So...

[He trails off, lowers the cartridge, and shifts uncomfortably in his chair.]

I realize how unorthodox and just plain sketchy a request like this is going to sound, but... who's willing to let me shoot them, and who's willing to be the medic present if-slash-when this happens? I'm looking for someone over eighteen, healthy, preferably human. I can compensate you with fifty doll—uh. Marques. Or we can negotiate, if necessary.

Serious inquiries only. Thanks.

Comments

[controlledvariable]

[No answer might as well be the wrong answer, but she'll leave it for now, to answer his question.]

I might've been. Why?

[5055034455]

So you "might've been" on the thing that just crashed into the apartments. How's everyone else? Is Collette OK? And are you sure you're fine? If I go to the infirmary, I won't see you there?

[What have you done, Steph.]

video; still private

[controlledvariable]

[Okay hang on she's just gonna switch to video so she can prove that she's perfectly fine, at least physically. So: one Steph, in civvies, but perched up on a rooftop somewhere, undercover so she's not getting rained on.]

Everyone's fine, I wouldn't be chatting on the network if we weren't. And it wasn't our fault, by the way, the damn thing just ran outta fuel.

also video; still private

[5055034455]

[Saul switches over as well so she can see for herself how worr—disapproving he looks right now. He's over in the Shitty Coffee Shop™ at the moment, alternating between staring grimly at the cup in front of him and giving that same look to the tablet.

Is that plaster in his hair...?]

You guys scared the hell out of me. And everyone else, too.

perma all that

[controlledvariable]

Sorry.

[That does seem genuinely apologetic, concern making her frown a little as she peers at the screen. Is that plaster in his hair?]

The Initiative said they cleared everyone out of the Housing building. No one got hurt, right?

[5055034455]

Not that I know of. It was pretty messy, though.

[He notices the way she's looking at him and tilts his head, which causes the plaster to tumble onto the table.]

...see?

[Please hold while he dusts his head off.]

[controlledvariable]

Should've tried being in the damn thing.

[It's supposed to be a joke, but it falls flat even to her own ears.]

[5055034455]

You look like you could use some coffee.

[Translation: YOU SHOULD COME OVER HERE. There's a reason Saul is here and not wherever Jesse and Lisbeth wound up after they all evacuated — it's called having an anxiety attack in peace.]

[controlledvariable]

[She's a little embarrassed by the fact she kind of whimpers at that. It's been a few days since she's had coffee and when she's used to have about five a day, the withdrawal has been hell.]

Is that an invitation?

[Just checking. She's still feeling a little frazzled.]

[5055034455]

Considering the fact that I'm fresh out of monogrammed stationary and stamps...

[TSUN TSUN TSUN]

Yeah. Come on over. Or, uh — down, I guess.

video → action

[controlledvariable]

[It gets a quiet huff of a laugh, even if it's a little brittle, and she gives the screen a half-hearted salute before she switches off the feed.

It doesn't take her too long to get to the coffee shop, and the first thing she does is order a triple shot americano with like five sugars, because she can, and then she's sliding into a seat across from Saul.]

Hi.

action 5ever

[5055034455]

[Saul was going to buy her coffee, but okay...

He's still huddled in his coat when she shows up, collar popped. So cool.]

Hi, Stephanie. Or — Steph? Stephy?

[That last one was a joke.

pls don't punch him.]

[controlledvariable]

[She dropped a spaceship on him (sort of), the least she can do is buy her own coffee.]

Don't.

[She can't even work up the energy to properly threaten him, or to make a joke of it, she just remembers Dean calling her that and it makes her want to hit something.

She burns her mouth on her coffee, instead, then scrubs a hand over her face and gives him an apologetic look.]

Sorry. Steph is fine.

[5055034455]

[One day, Saul will figure out how to deal with high-stress situations without making jokes. Today is not that day.

Alas.

He offers an apologetic look as well and takes a sip from his own (now lukewarm) coffee.]

Steph it is. And thanks for the offer, but — I already have plenty of volunteers. Wouldn't mind you being there to watch, though. Just in case.

[controlledvariable]

Are you sure? 'Cause it's really not a big deal, me and electricity go way back.

[Haha.

Ha.

She'd also rather other people didn't have to be shocked just so Saul can check how his gun works.]

[5055034455]

[Now there's a comment that's kind of worrying.

He scowls.]

No.

[controlledvariable]

[She raises an eyebrow at him, something almost like amusement in her expression. She's so used to the Batscowl that a normal person scowl does nothing.]

Okay, dad. No need to get snippy.

[5055034455]

[W O W the face he just made.]

I'm not getting snippy. Since when is refusing to shoot someone such a big deal?

[controlledvariable]

Maybe I need the fifty marques.

[She doesn't, and she wouldn't have taken the oney anyway.]

[5055034455]

[Eyeroll.]

The answer's still no.

[controlledvariable]

Fine, but I don't like the idea of you shooting other people. Being tased is shitty.

[THEN WHEN ARE YOU OFFERING.

Because Bat.]

[5055034455]

And you think I do?

[He regards his cup for a moment, absently twisting it in circles before glancing back up at Steph.]

How much does it hurt?

[controlledvariable]

Then let me do it, saves anyone else having to.

[She shrugs, taking a sip of her own coffee - it's cooler now, thank god - as he regards his cup.]

Depends. On the voltage, where it hits, that sorta thing. All your muscles lock up, so it's a sharp kinda pain, like getting a really bad cramp all over. It's worse if, um-- if there's metal.

[She feels the "make sure people aren't wearing metal" should be implied, there, but she just rubs at her brow instead of actually saying it.]

[5055034455]

[Instead of saying "no" again, Saul gives her another look — this one's a little darker, more of a warning to stop pushing it.]

You don't have to be a hero all the time, you know.

[As for the metal — he knows. He's already planning on having Dr. Cullen check out whoever he decides to pick for this experiment as completely as possible beforehand. Saul is careful by default; this situation is certainly no exception.]

I won't be aiming for the chest. Thigh, maybe. The legs are a good target, right?

[controlledvariable]

[There's a look she's familiar with; she can't count how many times she's gotten it. His comment, though, about being a hero, just gets a shaky laugh, bitter and ragged, before she covers her mouth with her hand to smother it.

She sure stopped being a hero for a few moments when she blew up the UE compound.]

Sorry. Haven't slept for a few days.

[As if that is an explanation for how on edge she is, but she's just - going to focus on the question and hope he'll leave it.]

Legs are a good target, yeah. How's your aim coming along?