Noel Vermillion
The short blond woman wasn't pleased that she'd been assigned to interrogate the man she'd saved. The first problem was a very simple one. She sucked at interrogating people. She was probably among the worst on the entire force. And as such, she hated doing it. It was no fun at all trying to be the mean cop and drag information out of people.
In her opinion, they should just hire some professional interrogators.
Secondly, she honestly didn't want to be reminded of what she felt was a complete failure on her part by seeing the civilian who was now probably in the ICU again.
Noel scrunched up as she floated out of the room, following about a foot behind Tar, floating above everyone as to not crowd the building even further.
Henry BarthowWhere did the people in charge get off ordering him to go interrogate a half-dead victim at the hospital anyways? It might've called for a gentler hand than his, whose gruffiness would be testified on by everyone who knew him. But his partner - he still had to make an effort to tell that to himself - had brought him in to begin with after saving his life. Henry would be dishonest to say he wasn't expecting it, but it didn't seem like it was going to help. The man was there, and Noel was there, and the former had, by Henry's reckoning, gotten massacred in view of the latter. What else did the brass hope to hear?
Granted -though dubiously-, Vermillion had perhaps not the most acute mind or reliable account in the block, but she wasn't incompetent, and the alternative wasn't in the best of shapes. So that was their quarry, annoying quest that required them to drive back and forth like factory pumps. It was what he had a car for, but he really didn't like driving so much as he was good at it, and being well-embedded in his muscle memory it had that mysterious effect of casually anchoring the conscious effects of his stress while he was engaged in it (without a cybernetic nightmare chasing his cell or the hounding of similar incidents).
And being busy meant things were worse than they could have been. That they weren't as bad as they had the potential to be yet, he thought as they closed in on their location, was a minor consolation.
The demon didn't see the sterile order and sorting of hospitals with welcoming eyes; the immaculate halls in the depths of his mechanical mind were empty of care, and the methodical operations that came with the white coats detached of any sentiment, human faces working with the systems of humanity to harvest it, bereft of heart. Beyond that, hospitals were vulnerable places to be. It was all too easy to be caught defenseless or held up in the system, for someone to take advantage of the busy minds of the staff and the complicated structure of the practice to get rid of inconveniences.
Henry appreciated the hospitals of the Nexus for their lax registration and record-keeping bar the specification of patients. Almost as much as he appreciated that the sargeant had taken care of talking to the hospital about their coming, and they didn't face many obstacles on the way to the man. Time was a different matter, but at least it wasn't waiting for a consultation. He found he got hungry during those occasions. He was starting to need to bite into something now, actually. Something with actual nutrients.
After the nurse left them with the typical warnings, he opened the door to the intensive care room where they'd find the person they wanted. "Ladies first," he said to Noel.
