Private Calming fists of fury

Stefan

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The neutral look. It was one that Cris knew all too well. She gave it many times herself, albeit for different reasons. But that neutral look broke just a smidge as the corners of his mouth curled upwards ever so slightly.​
"Nothing wrong with not being a people person. The fact that you are aware of that as well, lends me to believe that you will take this meeting a bit more seriously than most would."​
Her tone changed on 'a bit more seriously' to give it more weight. It was as if she was almost threatening potential consequences without actually saying them. Cris had picked up early on that Bran had all but checked out of the conversation from the beginning when he saw her badge. Her trained eye picking up on subtle changes to keep his expression neutral.​
"Just know that the MCPD isn't in the habit of giving second chances. And I personally feel they still do it too much. This situation, however, I feel a little more force than normal might have been necessary."​
 

Wuffy

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Bran scratched his chin in thought while Cris spoke. He hadn’t felt he’d been taking the meeting seriously. It wasn’t that serious. It was just to report an incident, which at worst could cost him his job. As much as he didn’t want his employers to be scorned for his action, Bran really wouldn’t be too concerned if he became unemployed. He could probably find something else to do.

Though, how Cris had said about consequences did cause the security guard to perk up a bit as he looked at her with a different kind of look. It was still neutral, but less practiced and forced. There was even an interested glint in his eyes, which usually betrayed little emotion aside from agitated.

He wouldn’t say anything for a while. Bran had a more thoughtful expression while he weighed the detective’s words. Finally, he said... “I didn’t feel I used any more or less force than needed. I just did what I thought felt right. I’m not a paragon of justice, Detective. I just follow what I’m told to do, and throw a punch when I need to.”

Bran was dismissive. It wasn’t of her, nor particularly of the situation, but more of himself. That was he had been made to do, after all. “If he learned his lesson then that means I did my job. Maintaining the peace of this place.” He nodded, a small satisfied look in his gaze at his statement.
 

Stefan

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Cris daintily laid her hands in her lap. Her frail looking form being accentuated as room on either side of her seat could now be seen in the custom wheelchair. She might have been immortal still, but she would not stand up long in a fight, that much was obvious to any observer. The move was very much an intentional one to help show her point.​
"Teaching someone a lesson doesn't always require physical force."​
A small sigh came from the detective as she turned her chair to face back towards the lobby in an invitation that Bran could walk if he wished. She was all but done with him as far as the official record went. She agreed that he handled it the best he could given the situation, but hoped she could reach him just a little more.​
"Someone of your ability, obviously able to hold their own in a fight, has opportunities some of us don't. You get to fall back on that physicality if things turn south. But that doesn't mean that should be the first place you go to."​
Cris took the moment to readjust herself in her chair, the physical effort that was needed from her being obvious as her arms struggled to move herself till she was comfortable.​
"That said. I think you did what you could with this specific situation. I just hope you consider my words for future altercations that will, inevitably, come."​
 

Wuffy

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He watched her move, and saw how much smaller she was compared to even the receptionist in the room, let alone himself. Once, when he was younger, Bran may have once wanted to be what he just dismissed. Someone who protected other people because he had the strength for it. The training he experience and reality he saw had stripped him of such hopeful belief. Bran wasn’t a liar, and he wouldn’t hide his feelings from Cris. “It doesn’t, but that’s the way I know.” He shrugged, and a small sigh escaped him.

Bran pulled his gloves off and pocketed them, clearly letting the vampire see the robotic left hand. “I don’t play nice with others, they don’t play nice with me. I leave other people to do the other kind of lessons.” He slowly clenched and unclenched his left hand. Once he tried to deal with something without fighting, and he lost an arm. Something that stung, but Bran refused to acknowledge.

“I’m capable in a fight, sure. But that’s all I’m good for. Wasn’t made for anything else.” Bran gave Cris a self depreciative grin. “Those like you who can’t fight do the things I can’t do.” He said bluntly. He still held himself somewhat rigid, even after he had taken the gloves off. His shoulders were squared and he stood straight, like Bran was ready to take orders. But it looked like he didn’t even notice it.
 

Stefan

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Cris let out a long sigh. She wasn't a psychiatrist. This wasn't her specialty. Yet, for some reason, she was still here finding out more about Bran and even trying to help him. She knew it was in vain, at least at this moment, but something just couldn't pull her away.​
"The amount of people that I've heard say the words 'I wasn't made for that,' or 'I was made to do this,' is far too high. Through life happening I was made into a paraplegic. I had given up on a lot. It wasn't fair that it happened. Then I stopped pitying myself and adopted the handi-capable mantra and over came things that made me into what I am."​
Cris adjusted her glasses and it gave her the opportunity to take in his mechanical arm. She didn't know enough about him to know how he had gotten that, or what he even referred to as being made, but she was curious.​
"You're strong Mr. Owens. And smarter than you give yourself credit for. I'm sure you could figure out ways to use your strengths without actual physical altercations."​
He tone inflected in a way that almost sounded like she was challenging him. In a way, she was. She wanted to see how he'd react to it.​
 

Wuffy

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Bran knew that kind of sigh. It was the same one the counsellor he saw while he had done remedial classes did after he had to go due to a fight. That ‘I’ve heard this before, but I’m going to try’ kind of sigh. It caused Bran to roll his eyes on reflex. He was arguably worst with his anti social behaviour before he had done remedial classes, he at least was able to behave enough that he wouldn’t be fired or arrested outright. But Bran still remained more aggressive at times, and in a way he didn’t want to change from it.

When Cris said about pitying herself, Bran laughed. “I’m not pitying myself. Not a bit. I’m just stating a fact. I’ve got nothing to pity over.” He cracked a lopsided grin, the smile not reaching his eyes. “In a way I prefer being like this. It’s comfortable.” Bran closed his eyes and tilted his head the smallest bit.

He was about to walk away. Their official business together was over, and Bran felt it wasn’t worth either of their times for her to say something that he had heard before and ignored. Like how he had goodness in him, he could be better, violence isn’t the answer. What ended up happening caused Bran to stop in his tracks before he could even take that first step.

Was that... a challenge in the detective’s voice? Bran turned to look at Cris again, his eyes gazed at her critically and tried to figure out whether he had been hearing things, or if there really was that challenge. He looked into her eyes, and his own widened momentarily. A competitiveness he felt flared in his chest, the same he had when he tried to outperform his constantly praised brother.

She had issues and made herself into a new person, and she challenged him? Fine, he’d meet it. “Oh? Is that a challenge in your voice, Detective Covaci?” Bran faced her fully, his arms crossed as he grinned widely. “Alright, how about we meet up some other time? Leave some time between now and then. If I get into a fight between now and then, I win. If I don’t, you win. How about it?” Bran tilted his head again, an enthusiastic gleam to his black eyes that hadn’t been present before.
 

Stefan

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The detective saw the flinch of muscles indicating he was going to move, she assumed to walk away. But he stopped before he did so. She had him. The slight hint at a challenge was what struck a nerve. Cris didn't let on that she had picked up on anything. Her face it's usual 'work face' as her co-workers called it, emotionless. Her eyes cold and calculating.​
"Two weeks. You still have to do your job to at least the same quality you do now, though I think you'll find that you'll do a better job when you find other ways first."​
Cris brought a hand up to her chin and a finger tapped her cheek in thought. Maybe she could knock out a couple things with this little challenge they were both getting into. A smile broke her stone face as she looked back to Bran.​
"Well any good challenge needs a prize, wouldn't you agree Mr. Owens? I just so happen to have taken on another challenge from a co-worker to get out more outside of work. So how about loser has to buy drinks for the other?"​
Her voice was definitely challenging now. The way she accented loser as she spoke was measured exactly how she wanted it to make it seem like some terrible thing. Even if she 'lost' this challenge, she would still win in the long run of trying to hopefully pacify future issues, as well as get her co-workers off her back.​
 

Wuffy

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“Two weeks.” He nodded in agreement. Not too short that it would tip in Cris’ favour, not too long that it almost guaranteed Bran would get into a fight regardless. A decent amount of time that could swing either way. “I won’t just punch the first person I see so I don’t just win, either.” Bran smirked at her, and the look on his face gave away that in different circumstances there would be a very strong chance he would do such a thing. “I’ll try to behave.” He emphasised on try.

Similar to himself, the detective had been maintaining a constant expression during this. His had been neutral to hide displeasure, hers was cold professionalism. That mask cracked when she smiled, and Bran couldn’t help but tilt his head in interest. Normally he wouldn’t be bothered, but her challenge caught his attention and caused him to be more interested in what she potentially had to say.

...Honestly Bran wasn’t even after a prize. He just liked to win. Maybe his idea of a good prize was just the acknowledgement he won. But he also couldn’t deny a prize had an appeal to the competition. Especially when she said loser like that. “Hmph. Alright then. Loser buys drinks.” Bran nodded with a slight smile. He hadn’t drunk much in his life since his body got hit by those kinds of substances hard. It was supposed to be so he required less medication, which saved resources in the long run. He wasn’t exactly a cheap resource to just throw away.

Bran reached into his pocket to fish out his phone. It was almost time for the early close, so he would get to head home. He opened the contacts on his phone and selected create a new contact, then held it towards Cris. “Here. This way we can organise a specific time and place. Besides...” Bran looked away with a more sheepish look. “You’re more interesting to talk to than counsellors who just say about the good in me.” He murmured.
 

Stefan

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The challenge didn't shape up exactly like she thought it would, but Bran seemed to live for challenges and appeared as though he would take it seriously. Cris was happy with that. Either way, it would avoid at least some issues that may come up.​
She took the phone with a delicate hand and put her information in it. She was used to giving out her information after meetings like this, but usually it was done with a card. Now Cris knew that he had her number and couldn't use the excuse that he lost it.​
"There," the detective said while handing the phone back. "Feel free to reach out anytime you need. I look forward to seeing how well you do. Something tells me you won't disappoint."​
Cris let another small smile break her usually deadpan face. He actually thought she was interesting to talk to. Most people couldn't take her typically judging look.​
"Well...it is my job to see the bad in people as they try to hide it from me."​
 

Wuffy

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This wasn’t what Bran expected to happen that day. Well, he had expected a slow day. Not to get punched in the face, had to restrain someone till they got picked up by the police, have a detective visit, then begin a competition on it he fought anyone in a two week period. It wasn’t what he expected at all, but he hadn’t found it unwelcome. He craved that competition that drove him to prove he was better. He hadn’t needed coddling to be better, like his brother.

The security guard waited for her to put her information on his phone, the thought that she could give him a card hadn’t even crossed his mind. This was just the most straightforward method to him. Bran tapped his left hand against his leg, his fingers idly felt the fabric of his uniform, the touch sensation dampened compared to his actual arm.

Bran was snapped from his daze when Cris handed his phone back, and he simply slipped it back into a pocket while he nodded. “Hmph, don’t go assuming whether I will or will not disappoint.” He snorted with a shrug.

A small laugh escaped Bran’s mouth while he shook his head. “You’re more familiar to me. I’m not really from this world, let alone the island. All this magic stuff is a bit out of my depth, but technology is more my speed.” Bran said offhandedly, his hand gestured at Cris’ chair. “Well I wear all that I am on my sleeve, detective. No point hiding what I am.”
 
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