CN prison, discussion of police violence
"Maybe if we're lucky, soon they'll kill someone who matters."
<NYS> Interview Room - Henry Gyrich Special Correctional Facility
(It's a gray, cubical box of a room, heavily reinforced and psi-shielded like rest of the facility, harshly lit by long fluorescent tubes set into the ceiling. A table and two chairs are bolted down to bare concrete floor in the center, though other hardpoints indicate the configuration can be changed as needed. Tian-shin has been in here for some time--long enough that one of the COs has seen fit to bring her a cup of strong, bitter coffee. She's impeccably dressed as usual, in a sharp black suit over a white shirt, sheer gray hose and black pumps, thin-framed glasses perched on her nose, hair twisted up into a neat bun without any visible aid securing it. She sips her coffee placidly, her eyes lifting to the heavy door every so often before dropping back down to the featureless tabletop.
The heavy door unlocks, clangs open; the guards who escort B in would make an almost comical sight if not for their surroundings, tall and broad and immensely dwarfing the individual they accompany. B is in plain green pants, green shirt, black shoes; though the handcuffs she wears have been tightened as far as they alllow it still looks as though she might easily slip out of them. Not that she is trying; silent and trudging quiet to take her place across from Tian-shin. The guards don't bother to remove the handcuffs before they leave.
Her time in prison has not done her any favors; thinner by far than even her previous slight build, skin greyer and cracking. Even once the door closes again she's still quiet, just watching Tian-shin steadily.
Tian-shin's brows pull together as her eyes light on her client, but she does not look surprised by B's appearance. She opens her mouth to speak, but her voice cracks. The twist of her expression is as annoyed as dismayed. She lifts the coffee cup in one shaking hand and takes a small sip, managing not to grimace, though it's a near thing. When she wets her lips and speaks again, her voice finally cooperates. "I hope you didn't find out from the COs already," she says, "but Flicker--" She swallows, blinking rapidly. "--Dawson is dead. He was shot by Oscorp Guardians last week."
B's lips part, but close against just as quickly. Her gills flutter rapidly, and she sinks just a hair lower in her seat. Once again she tries opening her mouth; once again closes it with no words successfully found. Her claws scrape on the table as her fingers curl in. "That's not --" she tries finally, her head slowly shaking, "he can't --" Her mouth presses thin. A moment later, more steadily: "By what?"
"Joshua tried, but they wouldn't release his..." Tian-shin's voice falters again. "...his body." Her shoulders slump ever so slightly, but she straightens up again a moment later, eyes widening behind her lenses. "Oh--" It takes her a moment to shift gears. "Oscorp--after the Sentinels got recalled, Oscorp submitted a bid to fill the vacancy. They all look like knockoffs of the EMS Sentinels, and they've been...there've been a lot of--" Her lips press into a thin, furious line. "--well, I'm not sure I can say malfunctions. As police weapons, they're operating more or less as intended."
B is already cutting in halfway through this, handcuffs rattling as one hand waves in a sharp but truncated motion. "No, I know what the Guardians are, I just --" She falls quiet again until Tian-shin is done, her head giving another shake. "There's a reason we got that contract, those things were so far from ready for --" Her teeth clack together as her mouth closes hard. She pushes out a slow breath, her inner eyelids blinking quick. "I guess if you just stop caring about the safety checks then -- yeah." Her head bows. "Guess they'd behave a lot like regular cops, then."
Tian-shin bows her head. "Sorry, I--" She shakes her head. "I'm not privvy to the details, but it seems a good bet they rushed them through, given how quickly they replaced the Sentinels." Pulling off her glasses, she rubs the bridge of her nose, the deep indents there left by the nosepads. "But--yeah. There've been news of attacks from all over the place, but as far as I know not one police department has suspended them yet." She grits her teeth. "I guess it's acceptable losses if they're only killing--undesirable elements."
B's eyes fix down on her hands. Her claws scratch lightly against the table, gills shifting again. "Not one. Well." Her voice is quieter, a bitter edge to it. "Maybe if we're lucky, soon they'll kill someone who matters."