Lieutenant Calvert

ᓚᘏᗢ

Norrie bit her lip to keep the amused smirk off her face - whose side was she on, after all? - and it only grew harder as Jackson drew himself up to his full height of 5'11[though he'd tell you five eleven and three quarters, so basically six feet], stuck his chin out defiantly, and said," I ain't scared." He looked and sounded like a 5 year old boy who'd just been call a scaredy-cat.

"Well it may help if you chose to be a little LESS annoying, don't you think?" Norrie said with a snort. So long as he wasn't actively trying to murder anyone or escape, he seemed to be... tolerable, to some extent. At least he didn't seem like a total dipshit, which was a point in his favor. In all honesty, he seemed to be more intelligent than the idiot holding the chain like a midget with a pibull.

Norrie hid a snort with a cough at the hybrid's mockery of the poor fellow who just so happened to also be dangerously close to the most likely thing to kill him. Working with D-94, while probably to be filled with injuries to both parties ivolved, would probably be entertaining, at least. That was something to look forward to. In what's-his-face's offense, he DID look like he was about to soil his britches in terror. Though if he did that, Norrie wasn't sure she'd be able to keep from laughing at the idiot.

Norrie put one hand to her face in mock exasperation, just hiding the smirk as the almost-beshitted guy went sprawling. "Just... just get in OUR truck so we can get outta this shithole, okay? Please?" She asked. When all else fails, ask nicely. She looked him over again, more closely this time, and decided right there that SOMEBODY was getting their ass whooped. If you're the president's chauffer, you don't whip that car sideways around corners and try to jump speedbumps, so who the fuck decided it'd be a good idea to treat government property this way? They had PLENTY of time to tranquilize him and treat at least some of his wounds, and give him some goddamn food by the looks of it. First order of business was getting D-94 back to base and healed up sufficiently. Then, if he was found to be agreeable enough, Norrie may just task him with mowing down whoever was in charge of this circus.

Axl lifted his eyebrows slightly and fixed his cold gaze on Jackson, firmly on them, tilting his head. "Oh? Are you saying I'm smelling ... amusement?" He asked with an innocent smile that looked much more like a baring of his very sharp fangs.

-

"And why would I do that? Being annoying is the only weapon I have left against you monstrous humans. If I retaliate physically, I get tortured. Then again, it kind of happens either way." He looked slightly disappointed- obviously, he would continue being a pain in the ass, but if he got punished like a fucking animal either way, it didn't really matter. His fingers twitched inside the cuffs, the urge to brush them against the burn wounds and see how well they were healing quite strong. He couldn't, though. Obviously. An aggrieved sigh escaped as he shifted his shoulders back again, letting them settle back into where the cuffs wanted to pull them. Do this enough times, it would just be mildly uncomfortable instead of painful. His ears twitched forward towards the human and his attention went back to his plaything, the employee. They had not gotten up from the ground, and he bet wouldn't, if he didn't want them to. He nudged them with a boot, but they remained limp. "Coward." Axl huffed. Absolutely NO fun. There wasn't any fun in terrifying someone who would be terrified with a mere glare. He shook his head and stepped away from them like they were a pile of garbage he didn't want to soil himself with, casting his gaze towards the woman instead. "I'm assuming your truck is the big ass vehicle right there that are lacking the safe number of chains and tranqs, mm?" He asked with a dry tone, casting a skeptical look towards the vehicle, like he was trying to decide whether to make things difficult or not. Yet. He would DEFINITELY make things difficult somewhere along the line.

-

Axl shifted his weight to the leg that ached a little less... he believed this one hadn't been severely injured in a couple days, so it was feeling pretty dandy. He knew the sooner he got to wherever the fuck they were putting him, the sooner he could get something cool on the burns dotting his torso, and that would be a relief. They were the sharpest pain at the moment, and although he could deal with pain, he didn't appreciate it. Also, the sooner he got there, the sooner he could be let out of these God forsaken chains. He didn't prefer wrenching his shoulders out of place just so the humans could feel safe.

-

He turned his gaze to the man still on the ground, too terrified to get up, and then strode past them, to the truck that the woman had gestured to, stepping on his hand along the way. The guy let out a scream and Axl heard a couple bones snap. They jerked their hand back and let go of the chain, scrambling away. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and ignored the blithering fool, getting into the back of the truck, lacking all of the extra chains that were in the other one. Hey, it wasn't his circus. They could do what they wanted with him, but there would be a slip up. Chains that were too thin, locks that were too easy to pick. Hundreds of people had died at his fangs, and he would not let that number die. No one could torture him without paying the price. With a snort of disdain, he sat down inside the back, on the floor, already forming a plan on who he was going to dismember when he got to wherever he was going. He could get his metal hand out, then he could get this blasted muzzle off, and he'd be practically free. Expect for the stupid chains around his torso holding his wings in. He'd have to get those off with two hands. But by his calculations, he could do all this in under 40 seconds, and since humans were so slow, he'd be outta there. A snapped neck here, a stabbed heart there, and he would be a mythical nightmare that people told their children stories about.

Lieutenant Calvert

ᓚᘏᗢ

"No. Just my sweaty asscrack," Jackson said firmly. Norrie wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that or how he meant it, but it made her want to give him a whack upside the head. No, she'd do that later. Now she just shook her head and sighed tiredly.

"Hey, I haven't done diddlyfuck to you," Norrie huffed, "and I'd prefer if it stayed that way." She didn't WANT to have to break his bones, or shoot him; he'd proved to be delightful at punishing people Norrie couldn't smack around herself, but if that was what he chose for himself, she wasn't gonna argue. Still, Norrie saw no need to injure him further- he'd not done anything to warrant it, though the goober on the ground would probably disagree.

"Bingo," She said, "c'mon now, safety third. If you're capable of not wreaking havoc without being chained up and/or hogtied, I'll keep that in mind moving forward. If you show you can't, I'll keep that in mind. S'up to you." Norrie figured that the scientists who'd labelled him "too dangerous" and blah-blah-blah had just been trying to use their cookie cutter, one size fits all methods and, guess what, it didn't work. If he proved that it wasn't the scientists' fault, then he'd be dealt with accordingly. But since Norrie found herself amused by his behavior so far, and in somewhat good humor for once, she'd give him a chance.

Norrie gave a small nod of approval and a smirk and shit-pants' scream. He deserved it. She let out a slow breath as the hybrid put himeslf in the truck without fuss, and made a choice that may turn out to be a good one or a fuckin retarded one, hard to say.

"Jackson, go get in the truck," She told him sharply, and he nodded and did as instructed. Good. Now for the dumb choice: she hopped up into the back of the truck and knelt next to D-94, almost behind him but not totally; still well in his field of veiw. "Now, I'm 'unna do something, it's up to you to be smart about it," She said quietly, and unclipped the probably-overkill clevis hook just long enough to bring both hands around in front of him and reclip 'em. Not free by any means, but at least it'd be easier on his shoulders.

With that, she left without another word, closed up the truck, locked it, barked at shit-pants to get the FUCK up, and then took up her place in the passenger seat. The big door rolled back up, probably the work of shit-pants and a remote door opener, and they departed the depot. Norrie settled in for the road-trip, and caught Jackson looking at her questioningly but not brave enough to ask anything. "Can I help you?" She snapped, and Jackson mumbled a "negative" before returning his attention back to the road.

Axl wrinkled his nose slightly, skeptical confusion flitting across his face. "... gross. Thanks for that mental image, Einstein." He shook his head, a slight crinkle between his eyebrows showing his wondering. Why did that guy think saying that would put him on the upper hand? All it really did was make Axl question their intelligence.

-

He glanced back at the woman with a quiet snort, his face having gone back to its neutral look. "Oh that's delightful, some human who doesn't think hybrids are out to kill them all and the only way to stop us is torture and making us fight in dog rings! What a rare find. Guess I'll refrain from doing anything stupid to you until you do piss me off." He scoffed, looking slightly like he didn't believe her. Wonder why that was. However, he usually didn't do anything really stupid until he had been hurt specifically by that person, so at the moment, he was just picking on Mr. Moron.

-

Axl rolled his eyes at her next words. "Everyone is CAPABLE of making good decisions. It's whether they want to or not, that's the question." He stated flatly. He, personally, would much rather just kill the employee and leave. He'd go find a cabin in the woods somewhere, hunt his own food, cut his own wood... and see no people. It'd be like his own paradise. But no, he was destined to be used like he was a lesser being. Like he was a mere dog, not capable of speech or logical thinking. He pulled up the specs in his vision and saw that there was a warning for anger levels. "Fuck you." He muttered under his breath, dismissing the specs and ignoring the next beep that he could hear in his ear. He didn't want his mind to tell him that it was overheating as he thought about the wrong shit people had done to him. He wanted to simmer in peace. People had taken EVERYTHING from him. His family, his home, his ARM. His FUCKING ARM. Who did that!? They set a BOMB off in an ENCLOSED ROOM with him INSIDE OF IT. That was some shitty person shit right there. Then they couldn't even let him be a sad armless 3 year old. Oh, yeah, byyyy the way, he was 3. THREE. But no, they had to shove a bunch of metal and computers in his brain to control the metal arm they put back on! Because THEY were too lazy to ATTATCH IT CORRECTLY.

-

After his mind had time to broil on its own for a while, he simmered that part down and focused it on the truck, observing the inside of it and what type it was. He had memorized a bunch of things while in the hybrid fighting ring, including the makes and layouts of a helluva lotto army trucks, and he was hoping this one had a secret latch inside the back or something. Like if the people inside needed to get out for any reason but there was no one to let them out. Alas, he saw nothing and remembered nothing. He wasn't paying much attention to what was going on outside anymore, until his ears twitched and he heard footsteps approaching the truck.. from the back. He glanced sideways as the woman hopped inside, eyes narrowing slightly as he debating shifting away or at least turning so he could see her better. He stayed skeptically silent as she undid the thingermajig just long enough to put it back on it the front. The release of his shoulder was probably more painful than just keeping them there, considering his shoulders had fallen asleep and it was working its way down his arms. They now awoke with a jolt of pain as they were wrenched forward this time, not in a painful way but the mere release was bad. A muscle in his jaw jumped slightly, the only sign of discomfort, and he watched her carefully as she exited the truck without another word and closed the end. Humans were mystifying. One could be a terrified idiot, one could be an angry person that just wanted to stab him, and the next could be someone like this woman. Then again, he'd never seen any human quite like her. He sat back against the wall with a huff of relief as his shoulders started un-numbing themselves. His wrists were leaving drips of blood over his torso now, but he didn't mind that. At least he wasn't currently getting hurt.

Lieutenant Calvert

ᓚᘏᗢ

"Hey, you asked," Jackson huffed, frowning. That only furthered Norrie's disappointment in him, and her own choice to bring him along. Oh well.

"Uh-huh, imagine that. S'long as I don't gotta walk with a gun at your head all the time, I think we'll be fine," Norrie said. She'd really rather not have to do that all the goddamn time. It gets old. Besides, him and Norrie were technically on the same side; she didn't think it was fair to treat a comrade like a POW. Kind of counterintuative.

"How philosophical," She said, words dripping with sarcasm. "Let's hope you want to, then. Or maybe you're hoping to wind up riddled with holes and just be done." While he hadn't done anything to warrant that, she figured it'd probably crossed his mind to kill shit-pants and then get shot. Not like she could blame him for that. And shit-pants deserved it.

Norrie slept through most of the drive - probably the main reason she'd brought Jackson, just so she could sleep - and woke when Jackson when and hit a goddamn pothole. "DAMMIT JACKSON WATCH THE ROAD," She barked, glaring at him. Luckily for him, there wasn't a whole lotta road left to watch. A wall easily two, maybe even three times the height of Norrie surrounded the compound of TF13, topped with several alternating rows of barbed and hotwire. Watchtowers dotted the perimiter, and as the truck pulled up, the big main gate opened to let them in, shutting behind them promptly, the bigass latch catching.

Jackson parked the truck near where the hybrid would be kept; a low, stone building with a few cells in it, though more like county jail cells than alcatraz-type shit. The wide double doors which'd been propped open reminded Norrie of a big ugly troll's maw. The goal now was to get D-94 into a cell and have some medics deal with the worst of his wounds. And possibly a mechanic or something. The infirmary wasn't super well equipped to deal with any violent outbursts, so this would be easier for all parties involved.

Norrie got out, stretched, and made her way to the back of the truck. Opening the doors, she gave a dopey little grin that showed no malicious intent [for once] and said, "We're heeere. If you're gonna try shit, now'd be a most innoportune time to do it."

(lil short gotta go)

Lieutenant Calvert

ᓚᘏᗢ

"I don't like your tone," Jackson said, sounding less intimdating than he thought he did and more like a mother or perhaps middle school teacher. Honestly, if he got slapped or kicked or something, Norrie wouldn't be all that bothered. Sometimes she wanted to wring his neck. Then there were rare times when he did something right, or didn't say something stupid, and those were the times that prevented her from doing so. Most of the time, Jackson was tolerable enough, didn't talk back or cause issues.

"I ain't gonna argue with that, but you sure you wanna try it? Try to get my weapon and he'll shoot you; go for his and I'll shoot," Norrie countered. Sure, he was definitely faster than them, but he couldn't be in two places at once. Probably. Who knows? Maybe those shitheads actually got somewhere in their experimenting.

She shrugged a little, saying, "Fair enough. But, if you just so happen to know any of the names of those tasked with taking care of you, I may just let you take the first swing at 'em." Norrie didn't give a shit what the fuck he was, the incompetent dopes in charge if him had failed miserably at their jobs. If Norrie could get even just one of em fired, she'd call it a win.

"Good, thanks," She said. She kind of figured he was saving his energy for something, maybe a good beatdown sometime in the future, but for now she didn't really give a shit. She'd burn that bridge when they got to it. For now at least, he'd be treated as an equal. Or, almost equalish. Suboordinate, duh, but she'd acknowledge the human part of him.

"Norrie," She answered. She glanced down at the bloodied cuffs around his wrists and, gesturing to them, asked, "Mind if I take a look at those?" Knowing the fuckwads who used them, they probably had some janky-ass lock thingy on em, and if Norrie couldn't find anything to unlock em, she'd probably take a sawzall to em or something. Gotta just shove something strong under the cuff and not cut all the way through, but it could be done without hurting him.

+++

"I don't like your face. Guess we both have something to cry about." Axl responded immediately, flashing his fangs at the man before completely ignoring him. He didn't need his time to be wasted by incompetant idiots thinking they were better than him. If anything, he was better than them. Physically. He could do everything physically better than them. Intelligence wise, too, from the computer in his head. Emotionally? Pfft. He was a therapist's nightmare.

"The tranq dart loaded into that gun is a smaller dosage, and I have aquired a slight immunity to that particular tranq. It would knock a normal human flat on the ground, but would only slow me down. It would take 5 of those darts to put me to sleep, and it'd still be light. Because of this, I'd go for your gun, he'd shoot me. I'd go for his gun, then no one is armed and I get to do what I want." Axl pointed out evenly, chin lifted slightly as he glanced around and scented the air. "I do want to point out they cannot program logic or common sense. That I came with." He added.

He snorted quietly at her words. "Martha Leeden, Jack Williams, Samantha Howard, Kevin Dawson, Houton Hubert, Hank Nisen, Reggie Jackson, Robert Tignaw, Nick Li. Those are the main ones that I saw every day. It's not hard to memorize things with a computer in your brain." He stated drily, eyes glinting dangerously as he watched her. "I've been waiting for the opportune time to stuff their guts up their asses for QUITE some time." He knew exactly what he was going to do to each of them and how he was going to do it. They were not just getting fired. They were going to disappear off the face of the earth. Those dipshits will regret everything they ever did to him, including teaching him ho to dispose of a body.

Axl tilted his head and continued watching her as she responded, pondering the name for a couple long moments. "Norrie." He repeated, as if tasting it, seeing how it sounded. "I believe they told you I was called D-94, but if you would prefer, my title is Axl." He stated with a slight dip of his head. Mutual respect, if that's what you want to call it. If she didn't injure him, he wasn't going to hurt her. That was the deal. As she gestured to the cuffs, he looked down slowly, eyes flitting over the blood and the heval metal. "Are you planning on taking them off?" He asked lowly, then didn't really wait for a response. With his cyborg hand, he made a fist around one of the shackles and snapped it like it was a mere string. After it fell off of his one hand, he did the same thing for the other, then handed the destroyed cuffs to her, dangling on his normal finger. "Apologies if that's not what you wanted. I'm sure you can find others." In the meantime, he reached down and pressed the cold metal against one of the burn marks, jaw tightening just slightly. That was the only indication of pain he gave, even though there was searing pain radiating through his torso.

Lieutenant Calvert

ᓚᘏᗢ

Jackson just stared dumbfounded, blinking stupidly. It wasn't like he had a face only a mother could love, but he wasn't anything special, either. Well, maybe mentally. Then Norrie'd call him special.

Norrie wasn't about to point out the sidearm she carried as well, mainly because she figured it wouldn't do a whole lot against him. Toward herself, definitely. "Riiight, then someone calls for backup and you get several dozen pounds of high-velocity led injected into your body until you're torn to unrecognizable shreds." Norrie was guessing they had heavily armed guards on standby, but since she wasn't entirely certain of this, she was technically bluffing. "I see, said the blind man," She mused, "So I suppose the sense of humor wasn't optional, either?" If it was up to the scientists and programmers and shit, he'd probably be a total automoton. Booooring.

Norrie nodded as he listed names, not terribly suprised by his memory. "While I can't promise I can let you do that, I don't think anyone would be surprised if you just so happened to come across them one day and have a... a traumatic response, or whatever label you wanna slap on it," She said, in a 'you catch my drift?' sort of way. Sorry officer, not much I could do. Maybe if they'd done their jobs and taken proper care of him, this wouldn't've happened. Don't quote me, but I think they got what was coming.

"Ayuh," Norrie said, "I don't answer to anything else." Well, maybe if one shouted it directly enough, with no possibility of them meaning someone else, then she might begrudgingly acknowledge. "Axl. Well met. Sorry it's gotta be this way, though," She said, not unkindly. He seemed... okay enough. Hopefully better company than Jackson, at least.

"Well, yes, that was the idea," She said slowly, watching as he snapped them off easily. She took the ruined cuffs from him, looking at them with an unplaceable look on her face, before just chucking them into the back of the truck with a metallic thunk. "That works, I guess. Easier for me, anyway," She said with a shrug. "I'll let you pick- wanna get food first or have your wounds 'n shit looked at?" Norrie asked. No harm in letting him choose.

Axl had noticed that she had another weapon, and likely more, though the more was also likely sharp objects. He could easily disarm her. Not the knives, per say, if she had them, as he wasn't going to spend the painstaking time to find them. "It would be worth it." He shrugged. "It'd give asscrack over there a great scare. Seeing the look on his face would make dying pleasant." He replied with a small snort. His lips twitched up for a second at her next words, but they returned to his usual blank, dry face quickly. "If that's what you want to call it, no. Untampered with, I would've been a jolly humorous fellow." Axl said drily, voice like the Sahara desert. It's a good thing they couldn't take THAT away. He'd have been so horribly boring then. And he'd have been unable to fight back in any way. At least now he could annoy the asses offa anyone.

"My traumatic response would be rather gruesome, considering I've been abused by them for many years." His eyes glinted with a dangerous light. "It would be a shame if any of them died, though. I prefer my victims to remember their delightful experiences." His fangs flashed slightly as he smiled, though not a real one, like he had almost encountered a minute ago. The one that was more like baring his teeth.

"I wouldn't expect people to answer to titles other than their name." Axl replied evenly. That didn't make sense. Why would they have a name if someone could just say 'hey you'? "Tis a shame it has to be under such circumstances. I would prefer a couple dozen years in the future, where humans have either realized hybrids pose no threat and see them as equals, or hybrids have taken over the earth. One or the other." He tilted his head slightly. "Do you ever think about how funny it is that humans have survived and become the reigning species on earth? They have absolutely no natural defenses other than their minds. Amazing how much more refined their brains have to be to beat out all the others. What a pity that hybrids came into existance... a mutation with a human mind and animal capabilities. Something humans regret creating. Their own personal Frakensteins Monster, if you will." He mused, ears twitching as he turned his gaze away and peered at the building for a moment, pupils dialating slightly.

An eyebrow twitched upward slightly in a skeptical look as she offered him the choice of food or medical attention. "1, since when did the monster get a choice? 2, since when was any of that necessary? I thought all humans believed we could run offa air alone." He snorted, shaking his head slightly. "If you weren't kidding, medical attention would be more important. I have the uncanny feeling that there may be some internal bleeding going on." Actually, he was almost certain of it, with how much hell his stomach had gone through.