Comments | not_my_new_york: Looking for answers (continued)

nypd_finest in not_my_new_york

Looking for answers (continued)

Jan 28, 2008 12:36

(continued on from here)

His attention now focused only on Murphy, Shane became aware of things he hadn't had the chance to notice before - like the man's height and build, and the faint mechanical noises as he moved.

In spite of that, he nodded at the words, continuing the sentence.

"Yeah, it even smells the same, but it's not my New York either. I'd ( Read more... )

rp - open

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cpu_001 January 28 2008, 03:33:43 UTC

"We can only hope that our homes are safe somewhere," replied Murphy. Of course, he was concerned about more than homes. He was worried about the people who lived in them. His eyes followed the traffic, the sporadic helicopter in the distance, the occasional scantily clad street walker of dubious profession.

"So, is this metal armour thing the uniform where you're from, Murphy?"

His head turned back to Shane. His voice become quiet, almost a whisper. The first word had a little force to it, but little thereafter. "No; I'm...one of a kind."

nypd_finest January 28 2008, 03:51:30 UTC

Shane leaned back against his car, his expression thoughtful. There was something about Murphy . . . his reaction to question about his armor suggested this was something of a sore spot.

As a cop, that was the kind of opening you didn't pass up when you were questioning a suspect, but Murphy wasn't a suspect, he was a colleague, and one who happened to be in the same fucked up situation as he was.

Still, the more they knew about each other, the better - Shane certainly wouldn't mind knowing that someone in this version of New York had his back, and he would happily do the same for Murphy, if the man would let him.

He took a deep breath and asked anyway. "We're both strangers in a strange land, Murphy - that makes us two of a kind at the moment. But, care to elaborate?"

cpu_001 January 28 2008, 05:25:19 UTC

The cyborg's head sort of drifted towards the water. His eyes tracked a boat going by. The fact that he could zoom in and see what the people onboard were doing only reminded him of what he was. What they were doing? Only made him feel worse.

He sighed through his nose, and tapped his fingertips together before looking at them.

"Officer Alex Murphy was killed in the line of duty."

cpu_001 January 28 2008, 05:47:23 UTC

His eyes went distant as he reminisced. Memories weren't supposed to function this way; one wasn't supposed to be able to relive their own crucifixion in such detail, so often ( ... )

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