exsiliumlogs | [open] funny how fast things change

Entry tags:

[open] funny how fast things change

Date & Time: April 18, morning/afternoon
Location: The Hold, the police station
Characters: Saul & you!
Summary: It's not laser tag, but at least he gets to shoot something. Pissed off as Saul may be, he knows he has to go get Jesse's records. First, though, he's going to blow off some steam and finally get acquainted with his weapon.
Warnings: n/a at the moment.

[Early morning finds Saul, surprisingly enough, in the Hold.

He doesn't like this place.

Then again, that can be said about this whole place, not just the Hold.

Anyway, there he is, down in one of the training rooms with his weapon and a box of cartridges that look just like the ones his weapon is meant to use but aren't quite. They're not electrified, these cartridges — he doesn't see the point in firing those at a training dummy. It'd be a waste.

And because someone made the mistake of telling him this thing is supposed to be sentient, he's talking to it.

The dummy he's been firing at has few cartridges sticking out of its torso. The rest? Stuck to the wall behind it.]

Come on, you piece of junk. Be sentient, or whatever. Aim yourself. God damn —

[He aims, fires off another round. This one winds up jammed at an awkward angle in the floor.]

Son of a bitch!

[Here's the thing: he doesn't know how to fire a gun like this. He also started the day off mad — actually, he hasn't stopped being mad since he talked to Lisbeth — and he's just getting madder. Mad enough that he almost flings his weapon across the room, but stops himself before he lets go, so all he really manages to do is tweak a muscle in his arm.]

*

[Luckily, being angry takes a lot of energy, so by the time he finishes off the box of rounds and changes into a suit (a suit that's in dire need of tailoring and a splash or two of color, but beggars can't be choosers) for his field trip to the police station, he's much more subdued.

Still mad, though.

He has no idea what he's going to come up against, once he gets there. What he'll find out, what will change as a consequence of him finding out, yadda yadda, blah blah, shit sucks. And while it's true that he wanted the chance to do his job again, he wasn't really hoping for this.

After pacing on the steps of the station for a solid three minutes full of fidgeting with his briefcase and tie, he passes through the door and assumes as cool an exterior as any, then strides up to the front desk.

And smiles.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If you're so sure...

[In a place like this, he's surprised she's managed to succeed so far. What, are there no people with secret identity-detecting superpowers hanging around? Color him surprised.

Also haha.

Hahaha.

AHAHAHAHA please do not talk to him about shit that could get him killed because that is already pretty much his life.]

A vigilante is a big step up from the people I used to represent back home. Could be fun.

I'm pretty sure.

[She doesn't really have anything against lawyers; Babs took the bar, after all, and helped her sort out all the drama with her dad and their mortgage, but.... still.]

I'm flattered, I think, but that doesn't really inspire confidence.

[Makes her wonder what sort of people he's used to dealing with.]

It should. Few criminal lawyers in New Mexico have come close to my success rate. And I'm not calling you a criminal, of course, but let's be honest — vigilantes work outside of the law just as much as anyone else who had to give me a call.

[...not that there's law to work outside of, here. He straightens a little, shifts the gun over to his left hand, then offers her his right.]

Saul Goodman.

Oh, I know, I've been the subject of a police hunt, once. [Things that should probably not be said with a pleased grin: that.] Maybe I could've used your help then.

[No, not really, that was a disaster all round. But she shakes the offered hand]

Nice to meet you, Mr. Goodman. I'm surprised you don't have any business cards to offer.

[That seems like a lawyer-y thing to do. Or a car salesman-y thing, but they're kind of the same.]

You could've.

[He smiles and shrugs a shoulder.]

I do, actually, but the information on them is now completely wrong. Why? Worried you'll forget me?

[And there he goes.

Steph, you really shouldn't have distracted him from his bad mood.]

[Probably, but Saul is not as handsome as Detective Gage, so she knows whose help she'd have preferred. She'll keep that thought to herself.]

You could get some correction tape and fix 'em up. [She laughs, though, amused.] The guy with the taser gun? I could never forget you.

[Why ever not?]

[Not as handsome as.

C'mon, Steph. Jesse Pinkman isn't the only criminal here with dreamy blue eyes.]

Sounds messy. So if I ever need your help... you got a bat signal rigged up here, or what?

[Not as handsome as a man she nicknamed Detective McHandsome. Pick your battles, Saul.]

Um, that got left at home. [A little awkward, because it's kind of weird to think about people specifically asking for her help. The bat signal is for Bruce, or Dick, or even Tim, but most people don't really want Batgirl. She's just the one who happens to be there at the time and hopefully people don't complain too much about her not being a real Bat.

And she can't use her tablet because Steph does and really, no one's asked for a way to contact Batgirl, yet.

Help.]

[McHandsome? Saul's Irish. A McGill, in fact, so he knows that Mc translates to son of. Maybe all the genes didn't pass. YOU NEVER KNOW.

Anyway.

Saul squints.]

Then how do you know when someone needs you?

I patrol, mostly.

[And she work cases, which sometimes leads her to people who need her help but possibly didn't realize it.

She shrugs, and the gesture makes her cape fall around her body, effectively hiding her and her suit under dark fabric. Being in Exsilium is a little like being Spoiler again, after getting used to the support system she had as Batgirl.]

Hm.

[Saul seems to be thinking about that. On the one hand, he really could use someone like her on his side. On the other hand, he's done with pushing his luck in this place for now.

...well.

Mostly.]

How good are you at what you do?

[She was Robin and she wishes saying that would mean something here.

But still, the question makes her straighten her posture a little.]

You don't get to wear this symbol unless you're one of the best.

[Her pride and self-esteem are complicated things, but the statement is true enough. If she wasn't good enough, if she wasn't doing the best she could, Bruce would have taken Batgirl away from her as soon as he came back to Gotham.]

[It occurs to Saul that she could have just bought the suit from Hot Topic or the internet or something and brought it along here with her, but — no.]

One of the best at age... what, twenty? Give or take?

[That's not a skeptical question, and it doesn't sound like one; he's just curious.]

Give or take.

[Twenty is right, actually, but she's not going to tell him that.]

We tend to start young. [And die young, too. Sometimes she's shocked she even made it to twenty.] And I'm, you know, baseline human, so I'm not comparing myself to metas or anything, but there's not much I can't handle.

[Okay she couldn't handle like. Darkseid. Or Doomsday. But those don't count.]

That's pretty impressive.

['sup, understatement?]

Well, if I'm ever in trouble, I hope you're on patrol when it happens.

I just want to help people.

[It's as simple as that really.

Which is why she frowns a bit, looking something between concerned and thoughtful.]

Do you think you're going to get into much trouble?

[Maybe she should make a Batsignal.]

[Allow him to answer in the form of another question.]

Do you know Jesse Pinkman?

Seen him around on the network, but I've never met him.

[Bruce would have said "I know everyone", but that felt a bit over the top.]

Friend of yours?

Client.

[Saul's sudden shift in tone might make it sound like he could never imagine he and Jesse being friends.

Whoops, look who's mad all over again.]

When I hooked up with him and his partner — [note the sarcasm] — back home, my life was filled with all kinds of trouble. Given what he's been up to here in my absence... I expect that trend to continue.

[He can already hear Jesse bitching about it in his head: I fired you, yo. You ain't my babysitter. I'm an ungrateful little punk. Blah blah blah. Whatever.]

[He's been working with the United Earth drugs; it's something she needs to look into more, figure out what's going on there, but for now she just nods.]

You could always stay away from him, unless he's actually paying you to keep him on as a client.

[It might be designed to get a reaction, to see if the relationship really is as simple as Jesse being a client.]

[He can tell she's fishing, and for that reason, he doesn't answer right away. It's a mistake, he knows. That pause just said volumes.

The explanation he settles on is intentionally vague:] It's a little more complicated than that.

Most things are, when you add multiversal travel into the mix.

[She hasn't paid much attention to Jesse until now, but he's friends with Collette, and it's making her a little concerned, how Saul talks about him.]

That, too.

[So hey, now's a good time to prep his gun for another shot as a distraction.]

Is there a lot for you to do in this place?

[Nice distraction, Saul.

But she won't push that topic, instead exhaling roughly at the question, an annoyed sort of thing.]

No. The only time I've been more bored was when I was waiting for a broken leg to heal and couldn't do anything but watch day time TV.

[At least when she was pregnant she could still go out, sometimes. The cast up her to thigh made life difficult.]

[Have a sympathetic flinch, Steph.

He's bored, too, but his life is considerably less exciting than a teenage vigilante's, so he's dealing with it okay.]

That sucks.

[HE'S SO COMFORTING.]

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