ArchivedLogs:Stop and Frisk

Stop and Frisk
Dramatis Personae Kyle Whelan, Marrow
In Absentia	2013-05-09 marrownappin
Location <NYC> Clinton
Despite its rough and tumble reputation of old, Clinton has come far from the illegal gambling and shakedowns of Prohibition, and the gang warfare of West Side Story. Clinton has now become the industrial supply center for midtown Manhattan, with hospitals and the light industrial and commercial businesses required to support so many thousands of people. The neighborhood has become quite expensive, but many actors still cram together in small apartments due to its proximity to Broadway. The mood in the sewers has become increasingly concerned with all the missing Morlocks. So much so that it's getting harder to find people willing to make supply runs. That's why Marrow, taking a break from her recent occupation as Sewer Knight PI, is risking a solo run on one of the Morlocks urban farms. Well, that and her favorite underground smoking spot has a little too much methane for an open flame to be smart. Dressed in a black leather biker jacket over a couple of ripped t-shirts matched with ripped black jeans the spikey mutant hauls herself out from a manhole, kicks the cover back into place, then pulls out a thin hand rolled cigarette. "Lazy little fuckers will starve at this rate," Marrow complains to herself, blowing out a little smoke that smells faintly of something other than just plain tobacco. "Still at least it means I'll get the first pickings." The street Marrow comes out onto is not well-trafficked at this hour. There's a bike courier frantically speeding past, a full taxi heading by. A police cruiser is parked a block or so away, though at the moment it is empty. Probably because there are two men in blue uniforms emerging from a side-street, watching Marrow's ascent from the sewers with bland curiosity. One is tall and blond, thick-muscled and broad; the other would not be called /small/ anywhere except perhaps in comparison to his partner. Their strides are unhurried, casual saunter that /was/ heading back for the car but is now slowing past Marrow, instead. "What were you doing down in the sewers?" asks the smaller darker-skinned of the two. Marrow glances between the two men, then smiles. "Takin' a shit," she replies charmingly. "That's what it's there for." She takes a few idle steps forward. "Wouldn't wanna offend anyone by going out on the street now would I?" Her eyes flick up and down the bigger man, sizing him up. Kyle is -- big! Muscly. Probably fairly imposing on his own, though usually it is the NYPD uniform moreso than his size that leads people to tread with more caution, given the rather severe penalties for assaulting police officers. At the moment he's looking Marrow back over, a faint furrow in his brow. "That's not --" he's starting to say, in the gruff-harsh cadence of a through-and-through Bronx native; his partner cuts /in/ with: "That's trespassing," to Marrow, and to Kyle, "Keep hearing about these squatters." "Okay okay," Marrow says, taking a long drag on her cigarette and nodding at Kyles partner. "I was only down there to do his mom. So if you're going to arrest me you'll have to take her too." She blows out a little smoke. "But then again who /hasn't/?" A grin flashes. "You're not gonna arrest me for being homeless. That'd be fuckin' stupid..." Her grin vanishes, replaced by a frown. "I think I'd like to see your badges please /officers/." "... are you for real?" The -- very much /already/ uniformed and badged officers exchange a look. "You blind, kid?" One of them taps at the shiny badge that is on his uniform. It's silver. The other officer's is gold. "Got a lot of attitude, don't you. Being homeless isn't illegal. Trespassing on Sanitation property /is/." The shorter of the officers steps back, gesturing to the brick face of the building nearby. "Hands against the wall." Sadly, in New York stop-and-frisk is a perfectly common procedure, even for those who have committed /no/ crimes. "Anyone can buy a cop outfit," Marrow points out. "I wanna see your badge /numbers/." She takes a step closer to the wall, sucking at the last of her cigarette in one desperate inhale, but doesn't quite put her hands up. "Pretty please officers." The badge numbers are -- right there! On the badges. That are on their uniforms. Names, too, even. Kyle's says "K. Whelan" above his number, with 'Sergeant' at the top of the badge. "Put down the cigarette," he says, the casual tone gone out of his voice, "and put your hands on the wall." Marrow shrugs, blows the last of the smoke out and gulps the remains of her cigarette. Ohm nom. "All done," she notes, glancing at the manhole cover and doing a little math, before putting her hands on the wall. "Just took me a little while without my reading glasses on." "Right." Kyle sounds unamused. "Legs slightly apart. You are not yet under arrest. Under the rules of State Criminal Procedure Law 140.50 we are going to search you for weapons, do you understand? Have you been frisked before?" His partner stands a short way behind. Hands down at his sides, watching this with all evidence of disinterest. "Not without someone buying me dinner first," Marrow retorts, moving her legs a little and rolling her shoulders. "Just mind your hands back there. I have a 'medical' condition." Which might be code for there is a bunch bones poking out of her body at various angles. None of which are overtly weapons, but some are definately sharp enough you wouldn't want to pat them down too hard. Kyle snorts, at this. He has clearly done this many times, a brusque but thorough pat-pat-patting, starting at arms, torso. He doesn't work his way down. Instead he stands, takes a step back to glance down the street, tells his partner: "Hey. You want to check this out?" His partner keeps his distance and does not come to check out whatever Kyle has found. "Yup." It's oddly just as casual as his previous demeanor as, instead, he draws his taser, aiming towards Marrow and firing in one swift motion. "What..." Marrow starts, before the tazer hits her in the back. There is a fzzzap and a few of the pointier bone spines along her back suddenly grow almost a foot in length, a reflexive defense which doesn't quite work against a ranged tazer attack, her foot raises as if to kick herself off the wall and introduce Kyle to the new bone growths... And then another jolt of electricity hits and her leg buckles sending Marrow down into a twitching and rather pointy mass. "Gahhhh!" Kyle is /jerking/ back as those bone spines grow, hissing to himself as he hastily backsteps further to avoid them. Still, he's looking not pained and more just disgruntled as Marrow collapses. He pulls out a pair of handcuffs, watching her twitch for a moment. Still holding the handcuffs in one hand, he pulls out his baton next. He weilds this with a considerable amount of force, applied towards the most protruding of the bone spikes. "Jesus Christ that thing is freakish." /His/ tone is oddly casual, too, though, even spoken through his teeth while he is whacking. Whack. Whackcrackwhack. "Looks impressive though, doesn't it?" His partner is mostly watching, now, with a note more fascination than before though -- admittedly not /much/. Ho hum. His hand is resting on his gun, though it isn't drawn. The bone spike in question is tough and smashing it with a baton is a bit like trying to break a steel bar with another steel bar. Still chips off bone do come off and the sharp edge is considerably blunted by the assault. Marrow meanwhile, thanks to her healing factor, recovers just enough from the tazer to enjoy a thorough bludgeoning. There is a faint noise that falls somewhere between a growl and a gargle and an attempt to pull herself into a foetal position. Under her clothing a few bony plates grow, curling around the most vulnerable parts thanks to a subconcious desire to live through the beating. The bludgeoning is probably a bit more vicious than is strictly necessary. Kyle does not like the look of those bone spikes. Still, after they are blunted he pushes at Marrow with his booted foot, attempting to turn her a little more onto her stomach. "Hands behind your back," he says, handcuffs reaching to try and close them around one of her wrists, "or my partner will shoot." His partner helpfully draws his gun by way of indication. He probably /will/, too. He doesn't look much bothered about the idea. "S'rumours there's /more/ of them down there, you know. Wonder how true." Marrow coughs up a mouthful of something. Could be blood, might just be the end of that cigarette. "I..." she snarls from between clenched teeth. "Will remember you. Both." She lets out a harsh little laugh. Still, her hands move as instructed. The handcuffs close into place. Only then does Kyle's partner step forward. Gun still in one hand, but with a syringe he is drawing from his jacket pocket. He's aiming to inject it into Marrow's bicep. It's a sedative -- not enough to knock her out entirely, just enough to be veeeery sleepy-drooly-out-of-it. "Yeah, yeah. Gonna call the cops on us?" Kyle's partner snorts at his own joke. Kyle does not. He just grimaces, one meaty arm closing around Marrow's arm to haul her up; probably to half drag her more than lead her away to the car. "No...." Marrow remarks as she drifts off to sedative land. "Don't tell anyone, but... gonna /kill you/. Shhhhhhhhh, 's our little secret okay." She laughs her harsh little laugh again and then slumps. Either the drugs kicked in a little quickly or she's just as awkward under sedation than she is normally. Between the beating, the drugs and all the extra mass from the bones she takes quite a bit of rather awkward dragging. What with the ever present risk from all the sharp and pointy bits. "Yeah, I get that a lot." That's the last thing Kyle says to Marrow before he and his partner manhandle her -- kind of caaaarefully because pointybits! -- into the back of the squad car. "Whatever," he's saying to his partner, though, "better if they've got some fight to 'em." And then. They are off. There will be a change of cars somewhere in between, probably a re-dosing with sedative; an /actual/ frisk to confiscate shoes and any non-clothing belongings. And then a shiny new home where Marrow can be reunited with her friends.