Better to fight and fall than to live without hope

Ripper Doctor Stefan Josiah Savent. Nova Corps Trauma Doctor.

[doctorsavin]

sxrapper‌:

There was a such a contradiction within Pip’s mind over this matter, it was true that he needed the business, or rather the credits that came with that business, but he hated people knowing about him, he preferred the small group of people that he regularly did business with. People knowing about him was stressful, not that he was doing anything wildly illegal, but the attention was what worried him.

He stopped digging through the scraps for a moment, peering under his arm before standing and turning to face the man. “When I get time yeah.” Pip once again began to dig through the scraps looking for what he knew was here. He didn’t even bother to look at what the man was examining, “Sure knock ya’ self out.” It was his last words that grabbed Pip’s attention, eyeing the man curiously he couldn’t help but admit that he was interested in something of that nature. “So you’re a ripper?” Narrowing his eyes he wouldn’t give away his augs or what things he’d had custom done until he knew that the man could be trusted, not that a simple answer like that would prove something so complex.

“What can you do?”

Unfortunately, this was the way of the city. The more you tried to stay anonymous the more likely it was people would find out who you are. It was spiteful in a way, so much effort for naut, but it was what it was. So here they were, a scrapper and one of the Upper’s most influential surgeons attempting to figure out business around the differences between their lifestyles. He had the credits, this young man had the items he required.

“Business busy?” he inquired nonchalantly, interested in this young man’s business. “You got a name lad?” With the permission given to have a look at the tech, long slender digits plucked the device up off the counter-top turning it over to inspect the state of the parts that had been set out.

“Of a sort,” he answered in the same passive sort of way he inspected the piece, a dichotomy crossing his tone between methodical nonchalance and diligent attention to detail. He set the piece down with both sets of index fingers and thumbs at the corner of the small metal square device, his eyes lifting to look at the young man. “You’re speaking to the best aug- neurosurgeon in the business up top. The better question to ask is what can’t I do.”

[doctorsavin]

Sweet Dreams Aren’t Made Of This : Faye & Fane

[doctorsavin]

cryxmercy‌:

Faye peered at the screen as Fane pointed out a few particular places that seemed to stick out as unfamiliar. She glanced at him. “You’ve never been there before? Ever?” It was possible he didn’t remember, all things considered, but he seemed genuine in his concern. Faye saved the route and the locations, and got a copy of the toxicilogy reports she’d asked Vlad for as well. The synth had gotten a couple of hits on recent activity regarding the drug they’d found in Savin’s system.

“Now we take a trip,” Faye said, gesturing for Fane to follow once she’d given Vlad a few final instructions on what to do with the information. One of which was to seal it to anyone but her or Savin. You could never be too careful.

The ride to the warehouse was uneventful. Faye parked the cruiser a few blocks away, however, and hit the stealth mode once she and Savin got out. “Lose the jacket,” she told him. “Untuck that shirt too… and here-” She reached up - standing on her tiptoes - to muss his hair. “That’s better. You already stick out down here. No need to make it worse.”

Faye in her jeans and black leather jacket didn’t look much different than the few pedestrians traveling the area. But Savin… he looked like… well, like a rich dude. “Just… come on.”

“No!” he replied indignantly, “I don’t hang around weird docking yard container sites. Why would I hang around there?” He chuffed quietly under his breath eyeing the screen once more before he folded his arms over his chest and looking back to the detective that had seemingly taken on his case. He might not have many standards these days but he had some god damn it.

With the report in her hand she was issuing orders, and Fane fell in step beside her. Though he hardly missed the fair few glances and side-eyed looks that the others in the department gave her. It was hard to miss in all honesty. His eyes travelled back and forth between them all, curious as to why they seemed to look at her like she had the plague or something else contagious that none of them wanted to be a part of.

The car ride while uneventful, wasn’t the most comfortable journey he’d ever made in his life. His knees felt as if they’d been folded back on themselves several times over. His head pressed almost to the roof of the car designed for people far, far shorter. He was an oddity in his height. It simply was a fact of his nature. His height simply unnatural in a world where people had acclimatised to the new world order that came following the mass-extinction style phenomena. So, once he was out of it he leaned left and right his back clicking satisfactorily with the act.

He gave her a look as she all but ordered him what to do, but with surprisingly little comment, did as she requested; pulling off his jacket and folding it to place it on the backseat of the car and untucking his neatly pressed shirt. Though when she went to muss his hair he merely gave her a look of slight indignation. “What are you even hoping to find here?”

[carringtonblackwood]

hippocritical oath || cari & fane

[doctorsavin]

carringtonbishop‌:

Carrington knew he would never be as he was before the accident. He was reminded of it on a daily basis. Not to mention that it had been drilled into his head in the time he’d spent in hospital and rehab afterwards. He tried to forget that time in his life, forget the pitying looks, the whispers of being a lost cause despite the surgeons’ best efforts. But despite all that, Carrington had lived and walked. Maybe out of pure bull-headedness, but the fact remained that he had. 

Which made him luckier than the ten others who’d never come home at all. 

But that was a can of worms he wasn’t about to open today. Today was about his body, not his psyche. So Carrington nodded as Savin said he’d help, choosing to keep any other terse comments to himself for now. The technical speak was vaguely familiar, and sounded right - not that Carrington would know better than Savin - so he didn’t object to the statement. 

It was when he was directed to partially disrobe that he became reluctant. Though it had nothing to do with modesty or insecurity. Carrington knew what he looked like. So did Savin. Which mean that there were things Carrington wouldn’t be able to hide once he was under the other man’s scrutiny. Things he didn’t care to have to make excuses for. 

Finally, realizing it would only be more telling not to do as he was asked in this case, Carrington got slowly to his feet. He was of a height with Savin, perhaps an inch shorter, and in seemingly optimal physical condition for his age and occupation. Former occupation, that is. His movements were less than fluid, stiffened by pain and the subsequent tension that came with constant guarding against it. He held himself gingerly, even stiffly through the waist as he moved to the table. His shirt came off slowly, the action of lifting his arms over his head causing him to grunt in discomfort. He set the shirt aside and used his arms to support himself as he slid onto the table. 

“I feel like an old man…” he said tightly, closing his eyes as he willed away the throbbing in his back. 

“It’s hardly anything I haven’t seen before,” Fane pointed out as Carrington seemed to become rather reluctant regarding the topic of disrobing. “I’m also not going to get an idea of your movement capacities without you doing it... You came to me for a reason,” Fane hoped and somewhat assumed that was to get some help. Which meant some degree of compromise, modesty be damned.

When he finally moved, with a great deal of reluctance, Fane noted he turned his attention back to the couch that he stood by. Eventually, Carrington joined him and the shirt was discarded nearby. Hardly of any concern to Fane, who was more interested in trying to figure out what Carrington’s many problems in that moment were. One of which happened to be some degree of substance usage, “any... medication... prescribed or self-adminstered that I need to be aware of?” If the patterning he noticed was anything to go by, he could make a very good guess.

“Considering the trauma you sustained I’m hardly surprised you feel that way,” he circled behind him, carefully bending to inspect the long incision marks. “These have healed well,” he commented thoughtfully as he began to assess Carrington’s spine through a series of ranges and movements. “Are you still working on those rehab things?”

[doctorsavin]

sxrapper‌:

Tilting his head as he beheld the man before him, for someone that grew up in these streets, it was obvious to him that this man was something more than he let on, a sudden panic set in as the thought crossed his mind that this man could be a cop. It took only a few moments longer to be sure that he wasn’t, it was the way he carried himself, how he spoke, just how he presented himself. He would be eaten alive around here, but not by himself. It was at the request of a part that Pip stopped what he was doing. A twitch of his brow was the only surprise shown, where the hell had everyone been getting their information lately. People from all sorts had been coming down to see him for parts and all saying they’d heard that he had one lying around. Was someone watching him? Was it someone he knew? 

Parts, right. “Umm I might have one sitting around here.” He didn’t bother searching through the crates and boxes of junk on the floor, instead, he found his way to the shelves beside his workbench, sliding out a black box and letting it drop on to the desk with a rather uncomfortable thud. Rifling through its contents he pulled out two of the processors in question, laying them both on the desk, side by side. It was funny how much the two processors mirrored the two of them. One was scuffed, damaged and barely hanging on, but the other looked cleaner, more refined and well looked after. “What have you got for it, fancy man?”

As for who had been talking, Fane wasn’t particularly partial to disclosing such information. But one of his little research projects required the part, and if this kid - for judging by the young man’s apparent age he was several years Fane’s own junior. Had it, well, all the better for it. “No need to look so shocked, word travels.” No matter who you were, there would be always someone that knew something about you.

He stood back while the young formerly startled man resolved himself enough to go in search of the parts Fane had mentioned. His eyes wandering curiously around the other gadgets and gizmos he could spy. Naturally, he turned to a couple of the shelves and hunched down a fraction to get a closer look. “Huh, some of these are pretty nice... You clean them up yourself?” Fane assumed the answer was yes, but it didn’t hurt to clarify. The thud drew his attention back, and soon enough he stepped over to take a closer look at the pieces in question. “May I?” he asked before picking them up individually and turning them over carefully for closer inspection. “Hm, for this one... We could always say services rendered? I’m happy to install and or upgrade any augs you have or want for the price of this bit of kit.”

[doctorsavin]

Sweet Dreams Aren’t Made Of This : Faye & Fane

[doctorsavin]

cryxmercy‌:

Savin’s face changed entirely as he studied the screens. That in itself told Faye that he found this just as serious as she did. “Well we know you were at that club around 2am this morning.” The video from earlier had confirmed that much. But before that? And between then and when he ended up in his car? They needed more information. At least they knew the sedative was fast acting, so he was likely drugged a short time before being planted at his house. Or maybe someone had drugged him when he was already in his car… one of the women he’d been with maybe? 

She watched as he wired himself into the system, pulling up the GPS tracker. Faye saw nothing that caught her eye. A fancy overpriced restaurant, a high-end liquor and wine shop… 

“Do any of these mean anything to you?” Faye asked Savin as the GPS ticked through the list of places he’d been. 

Fane for once had no issue with jacking into the system, did he entirely trust it? No, but what other choice did he have if he wanted answers as to whatever had happened. The locations ticked by, on and on detailing the night of where he’d been and some sort of indication of what he’d been up to. 

“Yeah, that” he said pausing the very last couple of stops “why’d I go from a club to a warehouse district to... back to mine?” He waved a hand at the route “that doesn’t make any sort of sense... I also don’t remember any of that.” Which only led him to believe he must’ve been drugged at the club several hours earlier and been moved about after the fact. “What now?”

[carringtonblackwood]

hippocritical oath || cari & fane

[doctorsavin]

carringtonbishop‌:

Carrington didn’t bother to answer Fane’s question, taking it as rhetorical despite the tone, which wasn’t sharp or cruel. They’d done this dance before, and for all intents and purposes, Savin was probably the one person still alive who knew Carrington best. Even if it was mostly in a professional sense. 

He glanced up when Savin asked him a direct question, his eyes falling away again as he mulled it over. Though his expression tightened as he was reminded of the severity of his injury - an injury caused by no fault of his own, other than the damnable sense of duty and honor that had nearly gotten him killed - and the subsequent consequences. “I’m aware,” Carrington said, his words slow and deliberate as he tried not to pop off. “I suppose it’s a good thing you’re so bloody brilliant then, isn’t it? Or that I’m just too stubborn to die like I probably should have.” 

A hand scrubbed over his face again. He knew what Savin was telling him was legitimate. But it didn’t help the fact that he felt chastised. Like a child with an expensive toy that he’d misused. So he focused on the questions and their answers instead of firing off his irritation at the one person who might be able to help him. 

“Sometimes they just happen. Out of nowhere. Other times, if I take a hard hit, or a fall. Or jump from a height… stand for too long.” As for settling the pain, Carrington sighed. “Lying down. Sleep. Not moving. Sometimes heat. Booze. The occasional painkiller,” he said clinically. He left out any mention of the Bliss for now, returning Savin’s gaze with one of his own. 

“Sometimes it’s last for so long I lose count. Sometimes it’s just a few moments. I’d say the average is about an hour or two.” A slight grimace crossed his face as the pain gave it’s signature ‘blade dipped in acid’ flare before moving back to a dull throb. This was how Carrington described it to Savin. 

“Maybe it is, no need to be so thankful for it” Fane had done the best he could’ve done given the complexity of the situation. It wasn’t an easy fix, piecing the bits of a shattered pelvis together one fragmented piece at a time. He shifted his weight onto one foot as he stood there surveying the situation. “Look, at the end of the day I’m just saying it was never going to be a hundred percent fix... But I’ll do what I can to help.” Whether it would work is another matter entirely, but he didn’t elaborate on that his promise honest in its sincerity.

Mulling over the information he provided, Fane held his chin in thought, thumb brushing back and forth over the lower angle of it. “So axial loading tends to be the main cause for discomfort? Whereas offloading that weight tends to ease it... Okay,” that at least gave him something to work off of. 

Fane waved his hand, padding over to the clinic couch in the middle of the office indicating for Carrington to come over in his own time “shirt off, let me have a look at how you’re functionally moving.”

[carringtonblackwood]

hippocritical oath || cari & fane

[doctorsavin]

carringtonbishop‌:

“I’m not the sociable type,” Carrington muttered, pushing himself up to as much of a sitting position as he could muster. The throb of pain in his back turned up another notch at the movement, but he did as he was bid and held out his wrist. The pale scars that ran across the top and bottom of each wrist were nothing new, the result of using the augmented blades in his forearms over the years. He had other scars here and there, most of which Savin was aware of, so they didn’t bother him. They were a fact of his existence, that was all. 

Carrington sat still, arm extended, gaze focused on a spot in the distance as his augments were accessed. It wasn’t an entirely comfortable process, but it didn’t hurt either. More like… an itch that moved around before it could be scratched well enough. But like most unpleasant sensation, Carrington was used to it. 

When his displays popped up, Carrington’s gaze slid towards them. He’d seen them enough times to know what he looked like on the inside. Barely human it seemed. He looked away, letting Savin do his job, and when his augments were declared fully functional - if hard-worn - Carrington almost sighed in relief. 

“Hazards of the job,” he said instead, still not moving. As for what was wrong… where to fucking start? He scrubbed his free hand over his face. “I’ve got… pain. And I don’t mean… I feel a bit achy, or sore, or stiff. I’m talking pain that can - and has - put me on my knees.” Carrington could withstand pain, a lot of it, and Savin knew this. So for him to willingly admit to such a thing spoke volumes on how bad it was actually getting. 

“And why does that not surprise me in the slightest?” Fane’s tone was purely sardonic, his humour a touch acidic yet not entirely unkind. He was tired, and he needed coffee if he was going to be dealing with Carrington’s bout of attitude tonight. With the wire held cautiously between his thumb and index finger Fane plugged him into the secure network his residence was set up on. Deadlocked from any external access for both his and his client’s privacy’s sake. Fane’s fingers tapped through different screens, running the necessary tests until his results came back inconclusive. 

No damage to the unit then.

Which meant something else was going on. His eyes scanned Carrington over once, “and when you get these bouts, what do you find brings them on? and what do you do to get them to settle?” Usually things like this needed some sort of driving force, “you also need to remember what I told you after your operation... I might have saved your legs but there would always be consequences... Both legs and your pelvis were crushed Carrington several nerve roots irritated and almost severed... Most people wouldn’t have ever survived that, let alone be able to walk again after it...” He gave the other man a steady look. “How long does the pain last? And how would you best describe the pain when it comes on?”

[doctorsavin]

Sweet Dreams Aren’t Made Of This : Faye & Fane

[doctorsavin]

cryxmercy‌:

“Like I said, suit yourself. I’ll gladly say I was wrong if it actually happens.” She gave him a tight smile - not expecting him to follow through with anything of the sort - and they moved on to the lab. 

Faye shrugged in response to his comment on the equipment. “No idea. I just work here. Vlad’s the expert.” She could only raise an eyebrow and glance at the synth in question as Savin had a laugh at it’s expense. Though the synth hardly cared about the man’s laughter. 

“Virtual Laboratory Assistant & Director,” the synth said. “I don’t know this… Tepes. Are they new?”

Faye simply shook her head, telling the synth that Fane was making a joke. Which made Vlad looked confused for a moment, but then it continued on it’s way to process the results. Which, like Fane, took all of Faye’s attention once they processed. His surprise seemed genuine, and Faye ran a diagnostic scan that revealed an elevated heart rate and increased blood pressure as she looked at the readouts. There were certain reactions that couldn’t be faked. 

Faye looked at Savin long and hard. “Yeah. Yeah, I believe you.” She gave him a nod and turned back to the screen. That said, this had just potentially gotten a lot bigger. 

“Would you like me to trace the source, Inquisitor?” Vlad asked. 

Faye nodded, still looking at the screen. “Give me all available sources, plus narrow it down to the top three most likely. Cross-reference with anyone else who’s been brought in recently with the same drug in their system.” 

“Will do.” Vlad got to work, and the screen started to move more rapidly than Faye could keep up. 

The Inquisitor turned to Fane. “What’s the last thing you remember from last night? And who were you with? Aside from the people on that video?”

“Oh god, why don’t they program you with a sense of humour? That’s it, from now on he’s Tepes” Fane said with a nod to Vlad. Whether he wanted it to be the case or not it mattered not, that was simply how Fane would refer to him in his head from now on out. 

However, precedence soon turned to the more concerning issue of what the toxicology report showed up. Namely the high levels of latent sedative in his system. His arms crossed over his chest, as he studied the screen his formerly ever-present grin replaced by a deep frown of thoughtful concern. 

“I don’t remember anything,” he admitted in all honesty. “I went out, I picked a few girls up... As for where we went... There’s countless options.” It wasn’t often Fane was quite so willing to jack in to a public network, but he was more concerned with what had happened last night to worry half so much. Turning his arm over he pulled out the link up wire from his wrist and plugged into a port pulling up a GPS tracker. “I might not remember but this should maybe give us an idea of where I was...”

[doctorsavin]

Kickstarter : Fane & Zina

[doctorsavin]

doc--frank‌:

Everything was going to plan, and Zina was terrified. It was nice when things went according to plan, but at the same time, it was the worst, because you never knew when it was going to fuck itself up. If things went wrong at the start it was easy to breathe a sigh of relief, because then the one part of the plan that was going to fuck itself up was over, but having forged an identity, gained access to the hospital, pretended to be a real doctor long enough to bluff past the nurses and orderlies and students and other doctors and gotten to the office she had seen would be free filled Zina with a sense of looming dread. There was an old myth about a king sitting under a throne with a sword hanging above his head. There was something to that.

There was no point in trying to sit still. Zina was full of nervous energy, humming off-key to herself as she pulled up the monitor and connected herself directly into it, seeing how good her forged credentials really were at gaining her access to the database, and then seeing how far her rusty hacking skills could get her past that. Somehow, hacking into a medical database was soothing, and Zina’s humming settled down as she took screenshots of interesting designs she could see. Of course, the real prize was going to be locked on non-networked computers, and to get to those she had to 1) find the doctors with specs worth ‘emancipating’ and 2) get into their offices to access their accounts. Dr Savent seemed like a good target to test her master plan out on.

Deep into her hack, she almost forgot that she was supposed to be meeting Dr Savent today, jumping at his voice. She quickly disconnected from the computer, smoothed down her clinical coat (it was heresy to call it a lab coat), cleared her throat and turned to face him. He looked smart, a proper big chin, but that was who she was supposed to be as Dr Trewa too. Zina straightened her shoulders and jutted her chin out. She’d tweaked her old fashionware implants over the years; the face Dr Savent saw was not Zina’s, nasal bridge, cheekbone height, fat distribution, eye shape all slightly changed so she became Dr Augusta Trewa. “And you must be Doctor Savent,” she said with a brave smile, sticking out her hand for him to shake. “Sorry, you caught me knee-deep in emails. They all pile up so fast and then…” she trailed off and made an explosion-motion with her hands, laughing the way people were supposed to when they made small talk.

“Thank you for meeting with me, sit down, I can’t wait to pick your brain!” Zina laughed in that small-talk way again, brain unhelpfully reminding her that everything had gone far too smoothly so far, and she was bound to fuck it up.

Fane had never met  Augusta Trewa in person, but he’d read her work in depth and was fascinated at the opportunity to pick her brain regarding certain concepts she’d been working on lately. So, when the opportunity to case conference with her had come up how could he say anything other than of course he’d love to meet her. He had to duck 

Seeing how she jumped upon his entry he gave her an apologetic smile, his rather abnormal height in society these days could sometimes come as a surprise to most. But regardless of whether it was that or something else that startled her his smile was friendly, “apologies... I didn’t mean to startle you.” He gave her a moment to settle before he stepped into the office and took her extended hand, which he shook firmly, “indeed I am and no, no need to apologise... I completely understand how fast things like that pile up. It’s a nightmare to try and catch up afterwards.” 

Fane’s smiled as Zina laughed, “no thank you, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, I’ve been following your most recent publications and I’m ecstatic to discuss your latest stem cell theories. Especially how they might play into neural regeneration when applied to spinal trauma cases.” 

[doctorsavin]

Morning Brews : Fane & Naomi

[doctorsavin]

sweetbeannaomi‌:

At a certain point in an interaction like that, it’s not about pleasing the customer if Naomi would even call someone that rude a customer at that point. It’s about getting them out of the door as quickly as you could so you could take care of other, just as important customers. So it was a relief to watch the woman finally leave, just so that Naomi could take care of someone else, someone better.

The next customer was no disappointment, that’s for certain. Fane, or the Doctor as Naomi liked to refer to him in her mind as, was an odd face to see in but always a pleasant one and had become a fairly regular customer at Havens, taking his coffee black but could have just a little bit of a sweet tooth for the baked good cabinet. “Of course, one boring plain black coffee coming right up,” she teased lightly. She’d been trying to get him to try something new since the first month he had become a regular, but he would never take the bait.

“As for baked goods, well, you’re in luck cause I have some new things up my sleeve. There’s a new blueberry lemon muffin with a sugar glaze, a cinnamon roll coffee cake, homemade oatmeal and berry breakfast bars and for a savory touch, spring onion and cheese scones! I think that’s the new stuff at least you know the regular menu well enough.” As she explained the new items, she poured his coffee from one of the carafes into a to-go cup and popped a lid on it before setting it on the pick up counter. “I’ll make sure Evie gets something. Thanks. As for me, it’s fine. Part of job, you know. Plus I own everything in here so you’d just be buying something for me… from me.”

For some people, Fane was willing to make time. Naomi was one of those few people. His tolerance for most people’s crap was relatively low but today he was willing to make an exception and for the coffee her shop provided was more than reason enough to bide his time and not let the agitation of his schedule lead to the tapping of his foot. With the sour-faced woman dealt with, he smiled at Naomi stepping up to the counter. 

“You know me so well,” he deadpanned but there was an element of humour colouring his tone “maybe one day you’ll manage to convince me into trying one of those mystery concoctions you’ve brewed up...” But not today.

The bakery cabinet, however, was an entirely separate issue. “Damn, even listening to you describe them is reminding the cavities I’m going to end up with if I keep on coming here...” Raising a hand he rubbed his chin in thought, “I’ll try the muffin and cinnamon roll coffee cake today I think.” Fane nodded, happy to hear that he could help out at least in his own little way. He might not make an effort for many people, but there were occasions where a bit of effort didn’t always hurt. “Well, doesn’t hurt anyway and what’s the use in owning it if you can’t enjoy it yourself from time to time?” Suffice to say, Fane didn’t take a no easily or without an effort to counter it. “Still, beyond insufferable customers what’s new for you lately? Any enticing gossip to pass along?”

[carringtonblackwood]

hippocritical oath || cari & fane

[doctorsavin]

carringtonbishop‌:

Carrington was in no mood to care if he disturbed Savin’s rest. Perhaps he should’ve cared more, given that the man was the only one Carrington believed could - and would - help him. At least in any way that would do Carrington himself any good. Not because Savin cared what happened to him, of course, but because Carrington was a product. And faulty products meant faulty creators. Carrington knew enough of Savin - or thought he did - that he could safely say the man wouldn’t allow such a smudge on his reputation.

Allowing himself to believe anything more altruistic was currently out of Carrington’s scope of thinking. So he waited, eyes closed but still acutely aware of his surroundings. No doubt Savin knew he was here, and was more than likely not overly pleased to see him, especially at such an ungodly hour. But there was nothing for it. Staying under the radar was what Carrington did. Showing up in broad daylight in this part of the city would only draw attention. 

So Carrington waited. It didn’t take long for the pad of footsteps to echo up the hall, followed by the lights. Carrington frowned noticeably, but didn’t flinch. When Savin spoke, the mercenary opened his eyes, letting his gaze fall on the other man. “Calling would - by definition - defeat the purpose of unexpected, now wouldn’t it?” His usual crisp tone was strained, the sarcasm laced with pain around the edges. 

“I don’t suppose I am,” Carrington continued, sitting up slowly. “But that’s the one thing we seem to have in common, isn’t it?”

Fane could be called many different things, he had been, time and time again. Callous, self-absorbed, proud, stubborn, defiant and countless other things. All because he cared about the work he did, all because he wanted to make sure that what he did was the very best each and every time. For every single patient that went down under his scalpel and so far that track record was as yet untarnished. So, it was an equal degree of care and pride that drove him to do his very best to fix something if it went wrong.

Even if that meant they ended up sitting on his office sofa at god knows what time. He rolled his wrists, the joints clicking with the act as he padded into the office studying the state of the man sat there. He didn’t need to tell Bishop that he looked like utter shit, no doubt the man knew that himself. “And yet it would be so much more sociable.”

Fane made a quiet noise, indiscernible as to whether it was a huff of frustration or laughter at Carrington’s remark. He stepped nearer after picking up his tablet, his movements carefully assured and waved for Carrington’s wrist and once he had it made a point to draw the wire out of Bishop’s arm. Most people would flinch or hesitate with such poignant access to their augs, but Fane knew Bishop would let him work without too many questions or interruptions. It was relatively unspoken in this dynamic. Fane worked, Carrington just let him do his thing. And so, soon enough Fane jacked the system to his tablet to get the display and read-up on his system functionality. “You’ve really put my work through it’s paces I see.” But nothing on the display flagged up as being dysfunctional, “talk to me about what’s been going on?”

[doctorsavin]

Sweet Dreams Aren’t Made Of This : Faye & Fane

[doctorsavin]

cryxmercy‌:

“If that’s what you wanna call it,” Faye said, but didn’t elaborate. She glanced at him as well, raising her ever-arched eyebrow a bit higher. “And no. Not really.” Why would she? It didn’t matter what her co-workers thought of her. As much as the other Inquisitors could be considered as such. She was good at her job. That’s all that matter. But Savin seemed sincere, so Faye gave him a small smile. “But thanks. Maybe later.”

They drove on to the precinct, parked in the secure parking deck, and Faye led the way towards the entrance. She gave Savin a skeptical look as they were buzzed through the first set of security guards and moved on towards the second. “You’re gonna buy me lunch?” she asked, looking skeptical. No one ever bought her lunch. Least of all some rich guy she just met. Over a potential kidnapping case no less. “Suit yourself,” Faye told him, not really believing he would as they stopped for her to sign Savin in. After asking him to let the second set of guards scan him for any contraband, as well as scanning him into the system, they moved on towards the lab. 

Once there, it took only a few moments for the lab technician - a synthetic that went by the name ‘Vlad’ - to draw Savin’s bloods and get them running. Faye watched the screens as the results started to appear a few moments later. Vlad was peering at the screen as usual, recording all the data for transfer to Faye’s casefile, when suddenly the synth spoke. 

“Inquisitor, I’ve found something curious.” Vlad was already enlarging the relevant screen, fingers moving expertly over the readouts. 

Faye moved over to peer at what the synthetic wanted to show her. She’d seen enough lab reports to know the blood toxicology screen when she saw one. Honestly, she expected to see a few of the things that showed up. But one stood out. Something familiar, but unexpected. Something that changed everything. 

“Holy shit.” Faye frowned, stepping closer to the screen. “Is that-?” Faye glanced at Vlad, who merely nodded. 

Faye then looked at Savin, her face set in a concerned frown. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess this isn’t one of your usuals?” she asked of the results on the screen. Because Faye had no doubt that he would know what he was looking at. Which was evidence that sometime in the past 24 hours, Dr. Savin - quite ironically - had been drugged. 

“Why not? I want to challenge your french fries eating ways,” Fane challenged as he trailed after her towards the desk letting himself be put into the system without issue or protest. It didn’t ultimately matter all that much to him, and if he truly were a criminal in the most base sense of it he would have had a fair bit more to say and protest about when being booked into the database. 

When they arrived at the lab, Fane in his natural curiosity started poking around a couple of the shelves. Investigating just what sort of set up they had here to aid them in their work, “it’s a bit out-dated isn’t it?” He asked of a couple of the processors he noted around on the chrome worktops. As for the synth, Fane couldn’t help but laugh “oh my gods, who-- who called it Vlad? Like... Vlad Tepes? Oh jesus... That’s genius,” he crooned gleefully even as the small vial of his blood was collected.

However, his glee was soon forgotten in place of his curiosity over whatever the readings showed. His smile vanished as he got up and came to peer over the synth’s head, leaning in to study the screen (needing to prop his glasses up when they started to slide) causing his frown to deepen even more.

“Nexus?” Fane echoed recognising the drug, his happy-go-lucky demeanour suddenly a great deal more serious. “Definitely not...” considering its association with being a fast acting sedative and the side-effects of drug-associated amnesia it would never be a substance he would ever dabble in. There were few things Stefan Savin prized more than that which was enclosed within his skull. “Do you believe me now when I say I don’t know what happened to that girl detective?”

[doctorsavin]

Sweet Dreams Aren’t Made Of This : Faye & Fane

[doctorsavin]

cryxmercy‌:

“Please…” Faye held up a hand. “Don’t. I’m sure they’d love the chance to tear me down a notch.” She wasn’t the most popular person, both because of her tendency to be pushy and overbearing (which is part of the reason most people that knew her called her Mercy, though the real reason was a long story) when she got an idea in her head, and the fact that she couldn’t be bribed. Though that wasn’t public knowledge 

She huffed at the reaction her answer got. “What’s wrong with french fries? Some of don’t make six figures a year. Real cows don’t come cheap.” 

“I detect some drama there,” he remarked thoughtfully glancing at her in his peripheral vision, all the more curious about this detective sent to investigate him and this case. “Want to talk about it? I’ve been told I’m very attentive in the past...” different situations, but surely the skill was transferable, right?

“Nothing... nothing’s wrong with them, just... There’s better food out there than french fries, at least in my opinion.” Fane opened his mouth, but eventually closed it. “Well, I don’t know... There’s some real cows living down on Blackwater Avenue...” now that was a tongue in cheek comment, “guess I’ll have to get you lunch sometime, then you’ll know what I’m talking about.” 

[carringtonblackwood]

hippocritical oath || cari & fane

[doctorsavin]

carringtonbishop‌:

Carrington wasn’t new to a bit of breaking and entering. Even at the upper city level. It was one of many skills he’d learned over the years. And while this particular residence did indeed hold something he wanted - needed, even - there was nothing in the home he wished to steal, damage, or sabotage. 

Quite the contrary. 

He was here for personal reasons. 

Reasons he didn’t care for anyone else to know about. 

Hence the B&E. 

He touched nothing once he’d disarmed the alarm system and let himself inside through a secondary entrance, resetting the device so it looked like no one had tampered with anything. He avoided the Synths that occupied the home, though he was fairly certain that he’d been scanned the moment he’d entered the residence. His face would be in the homeowner’s files, and he was hardly here with nefarious intentions. He just needed-

Goddamnit, but he needed help. 

Bliss was barely taking the edge off his pain for more than a couple of hours now. There had to be something else going on. The hackjob rippers he’d been to see down in the lower city had told him he’d need new augments soon, and they could get them for the right price. Carrington had told them right where they could shove their ‘new augments.’ Because the ex-soldier knew it wasn’t the bioware. It would last long after he was dead. No. It was something else. Something that was wrong with him. 

And there was only one person Carrington knew would tell him the truth. If only because it was his work, his hands that had saved Carrington’s life. That had fixed his spine and given him the use of his legs again. Savin didn’t make mistakes, after all. 

No, that was Carrington’s job. The thought ran through his head as he sat gingerly on one of the sofa’s in Savin’s office. The room was dark and quiet, and knowing he wouldn’t be set upon by anyone, he lay his head back and closed his eyes, brow pinched with discomfort. 

@doctorsavin​

The secondary alarm that was activated when the primary system was deactivated was what woke him from his sleep. His bedroom was dark, the windows blacked-out to prevent any of the neon wash from the city from disrupting the nights he wanted to sleep in peace. Laying on his back, Fane stared at the ceiling for a moment considering the options he had in terms of self-defence. If someone was here to rob him, they could honestly take most things. He’d be able to afford replacements. For a few long moments he listened, waiting for the tell-tale crash of furniture being tossed aside in search of a safe or... whatever came with being robbed. But it never came.

Curious.

Rubbing his palms over his face, Fane exhaled long and slow. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed he propped himself up and grabbed a nearby tablet, tapping through the cameras installed in the property until he came to the one of his clinic downstairs. What he saw on the feed had him tipping a brow in surprise, and setting the monitor aside with a curse. 

Pulling on a set of joggers and plain white tee the doctor padded from his bedroom, propping his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he descended the several flights of steps en route to his clinical office. He flicked on one of the lamps, disrupting the moonlit darkness of the space and perhaps giving the intruder a rude awakening. Well deserved, in Fane’s opinion. “You know, most people would call ahead before making unexpected visits... But then again, I suppose you aren’t most people are you Carrington?” his tone was dry as he stepped into the office, assessing the situation and his patient with a slight tip of his brow.

[doctorsavin]

Sweet Dreams Aren’t Made Of This : Faye & Fane

[doctorsavin]

cryxmercy‌:

“I suppose you don’t,” Faye agreed, heading them towards the car. 

It wasn’t that Faye had forgotten that Savin was a doctor - though she honestly didn’t think of having him draw the sample - it was merely that she was so used to following procedure that this was par for the course. In hindsight, it was probably best, since if anything were to happen to the sample, or be inconclusive, then at least Faye would have taken the proper measure. Regardless, they were headed to Nova Corps headquarters to get Savin’s bloods drawn, and depending on what the results were, she and the eccentric doctor would most likely part ways. 

Faye glanced sideways at Savin as he asked her about herself. “I’m hardly humble. Just ask my co-workers.” But she sighed, thinking about it before answering. “French fries.” 

Fane wasn’t about to complain in all honesty, he found this detective curious. Moreso than anyone else he’d have to deal with if she hadn’t saved him from a day of otherwise self-induced boredom. Did this make him a rookie now? The thought made him grin as he settled into his seat as the car took off and into the stream of air-traffic down to the middle layer.

“Well I can’t do that because you don’t have any co-workers here, but I might just when we get to your place of work.” Fane could be a bit of a loudmouth when he wanted to be, talk your ear off before you got a word in edgeways but he meant well. “French fries?!” the surprise was evident in his tone, “what about a burger? Or teppanyaki cooked chicken? Garlic fried prawns?”

[doctorsavin]

Sweet Dreams Aren’t Made Of This : Faye & Fane

[doctorsavin]

cryxmercy‌:

Faye realized she was going to regret literally everything that came out of her mouth around this man. She raised an eyebrow. Again. “I doubt there’s much that makes you blush these days, Dr. Savin.” And that was the truth of it. He was… absolutely vexing. Maybe he did deserve a good  thirty days in lockup. Just to dampen his… enthusiasm… just a bit. Though Faye doubted he’d stay there long. Likely buy his way out. 

“Of course you would,” Faye said, giving him a overly bright smile. She finished up collecting his list, and they made their way out to her vehicle. “I’m not the one being investigated here, Dr. Savin,” she told him as they headed out. “I’m hardly interesting anyway.” 

Faye’s realisation likely came at a good time, better sooner rather than later because anything Fane could turn around successfully he absolutely would. Regardless of meaning or intent, he simply couldn’t help something like that. Just a part of his brain that couldn’t help the sarcastic enthusiasm of a good crude pun. “Well, you never know.“

Once they were at the car he climbed into the passenger seat. A part of him wondered if she’d simply forgotten he was a doctor, and that if required he could quite easily fulfil a blood sample without the need of a car trip. But equally, he was curious to talk more to her rather than the other way around. “You say that like I asked for any of this,” he countered amicably peering around the interior of the car, “see, humble people are often the most interesting ones around... Tell me something interesting about yourself detective... Come on, something simple, your favourite type of food?”

[doctorsavin]

Sweet Dreams Aren’t Made Of This : Faye & Fane

[doctorsavin]

cryxmercy‌:

Faye hummed. “I’ll keep it on the backburner then.” And she would. Family disputes only became her area if there were bigger issues than not getting hugged enough as a kid. Issues like murder, extortion, kidnapping. Big things with lots of paperwork at the end. For now though, she had what she needed. As far as questioning went. 

As for being paid off, Faye wasn’t interested. She had a job to do, and that job didn’t include taking bribes to let the bad guys go free. They’d been offered, of course, but Faye had never taken a single credit to sway her investigation one way or another. She didn’t intend to start now. “Actually, I do need a sample of your blood if you don’t mind. The synth didn’t find any in your car, which isn’t a bad thing. I can do it here or you can come down to the station. Your choice. Though I’m a terrible shot with a needle, just so you know.” 

There were simply some instances that Fane couldn’t help himself, he could be professional when he wanted to... But when he didn’t? Well, that was another matter entirely. “My blood?” his brows rose in surprise, but as quick as it appeared it was replaced by an amused look. “My my, detective,” his hands spread openly and his grin was downright mischievous “so early in our relationship and you’re already propositioning to penetrate me? So forward, you’re going to make me blush.”

His grin remained fixed in place before he continued, quite conversationally in fact “that said, I think I’d rather come with you to the station, hm? Plus, this conversation has been rather one sided hasn’t it? Why don’t you tell me something about yourself on the ride?”