legionworld | [OPEN] Getting to grips

Entry tags:

[OPEN] Getting to grips

Who| Rico Dredd, and anyone!
What| Rico's getting adjusted. Discovering sugar and telling people to move out of his way.
Where| Mess Hall, Observation Deck
When| Before Bodies for Rent
Warnings/Notes| Rico's an asshole. Warning for violence, fighting, blood, threats of bodily harm, and treating sugar like an addictive substance (i.e. drug talk). Will match formats.

[A: Mess Hall]

[It had taken a long time for Rico to get adjusted to his new surroundings. After the expected violent outburst after waking up, he was upset. Not because he was just faced with the knowledge that his entire universe was in danger, that Mega-City One was in danger. No. It was more that he was yanked out of his world by the scruff of his neck, and had a lot of schemes he'd spent time and effort setting up. A lot of fingers in a lot of different pies whose outcomes he was just waiting to realize.]

[But Hell, the only saving grace is that at least he might just get a kick out of all this. So he took the oath, if only for them to get off his back about it. Time would tell whether he felt like following it or not. But for now? The Mess Hall would be where he could get a feel for the social dynamics that run through this place. And he'll be damned if Rico Dredd never comes out on top. And he's hardly going to let a little thing like being dropped into a completely unfamiliar environment alone and without backup hold him back.]

[He strides into the mess hall with a natural arrogance, a swagger to his step that could be mistaken for confidence. Of course, with how packed it is, and how he isn't making any attempt to move out of anybody's way - fully expecting them to move for him - somebody might accidentally jostle him and his rather bulky and pointy eagle-shaped shoulder pad. If that happens?]

Hey!

[He barks out sharply in a gravel rough voice, in a tone that demands immediate attention. He cocks his head to the side, overhead lighting reflecting a glint off his black visor where his eyes should be. He crooks a finger, beckoning them to come closer as his mouth twitches up in the beginnings of a smile.]

You gonna apologize for that?

[B: Mess Hall]

[Rico is sitting at a table with his back to the wall, with a baton kept loosely in his lap, staring at an unopened packet of sugar in the palm of his hand. He knew that The Legion had different practices, different laws but this was really something else. He tears the packet open with delicately pinched fingers, spilling the white crystals onto the table, and sniffs. He takes off a glove, dips his finger in the pile, brings it up to his face for careful scrutiny, then licks it.]

Oh, what the drokk? [He murmurs under his breath as he pulls back, confusion and tentative excitement mixing in his voice.] They can't be serious.

[He starts picking up more packets, one by one, and ripping them all open. Soon, there's a veritable pile of sugar on the table. But if someone were to come a little later and perhaps want a sugar for their coffee or tea this morning...? Well too bad. It's all been confiscated. If you reach out for one, expect to be impeded by a black baton.]

Sorry. [He doesn't sound very sorry at all. Actually, he almost sounds a little gleeful. He's well aware he has very little authority here, but that's not going to stop him from pretending that he does. Also, he might have slipped a packet or two into his own pockets.] Restricted substances. Mind your own business and move along.

[C: Observation Deck]

[The Observation Deck. Rico leans forward against a railing, looking down at the view. It's mostly empty for now, and he enjoys the rare peace. No shouting citizens, no endless, pointless chatter, or explosions. He's been a Mega-City boy all his life, never been to space, and despite his best efforts not to be impressed, it still captures his attention like nothing else.]

[Rico feels the prickle of a stare bouncing off the back of his helmet, and working on an instinct that every Street Judge has - or at least, the ones that aren't dumb as dirt and still alive - he fingers the baton by his side and says out loud without turning around;]

You looking at me, creep?

[D: Wildcard option!]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

The words hit Kubo harder than any had yet, even Rico's.

He thought he'd done right. He thought he'd done the best he could, with someone threatening him with harm, parading around in ways that said he'd threaten other people who couldn't defend themselves, who didn't have powers and unbreakable swords and a willingness to look terror and hate in the eye and stand up to it.

He didn't hear much else other than Garrus' declaration that he hadn't handled the situation well. Kubo clutched the strap holding his shamisen to his back, his determined expression fallen, looking to the ground. He'd gotten someone else hurt, and they regretted being hurt for his sake. How many others could say the same?

He could never have hoped to stand up against Rico on his own, anyway, without being hurt. If Garrus hadn't been the one hurt on his behalf, who else would it have been? His father? Wash?

Someone was always going to get hurt because of his choices. Whether to stay out late, or defend his pride against a bully.

He'd done wrong and gotten someone else hurt, again. If there was something else for him to hear, he didn't hear it.

Edited 2017-07-28 00:53 (UTC)

"The cits will always find some stupid new craze for us to clamp down on." Like backless pants. Or frontless pants. Or any number of stupid things that the Justice Department can't possibly predict. Thankfully the fads in this universe don't seem as... viral.

And, yes, that is her avoiding a response to Mega-City One coming crashing down.

"You know how it is. The more things change, the more they stay the same." Honestly, Dredd's probably a poor one to talk about that with, given the number of changes he's seen in his life, what with being so close to the birth of the Justice System and having participated in the overthrow of the old government, but the old homily still feels like it fits. "Still, things are a lot calmer around here. Trillions of citizens and most planets are civilized." Most. Her lips quirk slightly, thinking of the exceptions. "If you ever get homesick, just go to Rimbor."

He'll believe it when he sees it. There's a curl of disgust in his gut when he hears her say how they're civilized. Coming from another Judge, Rico shouldn't put much stock in them doing things much different around here.

"Rimbor? Sounds dumb. Besides, if I miss home -" he scoffs " - they cut out a slice of Mega-City One in the hab-deck for me. I've been looking around, but there's nothing off I can find - it's a perfect recreation down to the gang graffiti and the potholes. Don't know how they did it." He drums his fingers on his belt, frowning. It was a little uncomfortable, to be honest. "All I'm missing are the cits, and I sure as drokk don't mind not dealing with them."

A bit of a lie. But who cares?

Ugh. Seems she won't take a hint. He crosses one foot in front of the other as he leans back against the railing, going for a casual attitude. "You know, I heard Head Office is experimenting with some kind of new tranq gas. Apparently they blew their budget wad on it." Rico snorts in amusement, but it's to mask the tiny seed of irritation growing in the back of his head. Grud damn it, give him something. "Caused a couple of deaths, birth defects, and cases of cancers in the trial phase, but they're still insistent it'll be worth it. Might save us all a lot of trouble if I can come back and tell them if it turns out a drokking stommstorm or what."

If this conversation is turning a little pushy, or a little more insistent: well, it is.

Somehow, she thinks that they're not quite on the same level.

"They've got a device called an Anywhere Machine. Lets them see anywhere, anywhen, as long as it's not your future." America gives a light shrug. It would be handy technology, if Brainiac 5 would loosen his deathgrip on the blueprints. "Usually no one can see it without your permission, but I guess they took your hab zone request as permission. I'd just warn you not to live there if you're expecting privacy. Anyone can enter a hab zone any time. Better to live in the private quarters."

She dumps it fast, in one burst. She's fully expecting some kind of explosion. Everyone seems to when they first hear about it, and it's best to just get the basics out of the way while they're still soaking it all in.

Her lips thin, not because she specifically remembers the program. No one can remember all of the Justice Department's atrocities. More out of irritation at the lack of care there. Birth defects, cancers, that's not justice. It's just sloppy.

Still. "Trying to take on Psi-Division's job, Dredd?" She's teasing, but at least it isn't outright mockery. "I will say we have a similar program. Less health risks, though. No sense in poisoning the citizens if they haven't done anything to deserve it."

His hands convulse as his grip on the railings tighten in surprise, like his hands on somebody's neck.

Don't. Do. Anything. Rash. This changes everything. If she even saw a glimpse... It was all over. There was a very large, human shaped hole in his story and it looked an awful drokking lot like it was also on fire and screaming. And it wasn't the only one. If she ever took a mind to go looking - and there's no doubt that she will if he ever does anything stupid - well. He'd just better never give her a suspicion to. Act like boring, lawbook-on-legs little Joe, who would never have a reason to doubt the Justice department, or have any other thoughts in his thick, stubborn head.

And that means not killing somebody so let go of that drokking railing now, Rico -

He pries his fingers off the creaking metal, and breathes out. Then, turns around on his heel so he isn't facing Beeny. As long as they kept it to a simple snapshot of MC1. After a few seconds of internal rumination, he feels like he can make a measured response without screaming or threatening people. He leans slightly over the railing, hands clamped back on because his fingers are starting to twitch again.

"What the DROKK are they doing with that kind of technology?" He roars. Then he presses his jaw shut, grinding his teeth, trying to look as put together as possible. Don't look like you're losing it. Don't give her a reason. Don't look too invested. He'd stayed far away from Psi-Div for a reason. He'd come too far for just a stray thought to bring everything he'd built up crashing down. And that there was a machine that would let anybody do that? He puts very little stock in her reassurance that nobody would be able to see anything without his permission. Fat drokking chance Beeny wouldn't find a way if she really wanted to. She was a member of the Council, for Grud's sake.

And the news about the tranq gas really was just what he'd heard. Rico keeps an ear to the ground, and this is a particular rumor that he hasn't bothered to check directly but it wouldn't surprise him as something that they would do. Apparently poisonings are off the table if the cits haven't done anything to deserve it, but their regular sentencing, beatings, and killings weren't. Rico's getting antsy again, remembering that for all her jokes, she was just as bad as the rest of them. As he was.

Beeny narrows her eyes behind her visor, instantly tensing and fighting to keep it from showing. Even so, her gloves creak slightly as her own fists tighten and she eyes Dredd up.

This isn't Judge Dredd. He'd been off for a while now, but she was willing to chalk it up to youthfulness. A certain lack of control many young hotshots just out of the academy tended to pick up, before years on the street taught them the value of rigid self-control. This wasn't an extreme emotional outburst for a normal person, but for Dredd... practically unthinkable.

Who could it be? Not Judge Rico, he had no reason to play games. Judge... Kraken? No. 2080s. Before Kraken's time. This left... Rico Dredd. The original cracked mirror. Stomm.

This could be trouble. Or, if she played her cards right, it could be manageable. America doesn't know much about Rico, but he played the part of a Judge long enough to be nearly undetected. If he plays the good Judge here, if she can pressure him into playing the role... She'd need a moment to think on this. Rico wasn't someone to just toy with, and she wasn't a master manipulator. She might know a few different tricks, but they had roughly the same training. Some forty years apart.

Controlling her voice, forcing it into the same conversational tone, she allows some disgust to creep in. "'Scientific research'. Discovering the birth of the universe, that sort of nonsense." ...Better keep piling on the bad news if she's going to play the helpful, clueless Judge here. "You're going to hate this next bit of intel. One of these machines has been stolen. No leads yet." She waits a moment, eying him. "Unknown members of the media have been using it to create bio-dramas, 'Legionnaire Legacies' of various members for the general public. Exposing past lives before we came here, from acts of vigilante heroism to crimes like attempted genocide. Legion leadership takes the approach that they need members too much to arrest them for anything done back 'home', though."

America could tell him that the Legion's own Anywhere Machine is free for use for the members. That it could be tied into the sim rooms. That she's been using it to solve her backlog here. But, if she's right, if he isn't the ally she thought he was, too much information like that could end up wrecking the timeline. Would that be enough to cause Helter Skelter? She's not sure, but this has suddenly become much more dangerous.

"Well you saw wrong." Rico says, long-suffering. If he could roll his eyes and have it show, he would. "What the hell do you know? Threatening perps with bodily harm before passing the sentence to ensure compliance if needed is standard practice, alien. Remind them of the positive things in their lives to keep off crime. I told the truth. Kid was lucky. I had no intention of breaking his kneecaps then. Don't know why you creeps take a good thing for granted."

It doesn't escape his notice that Kubo visibly wilts like a Cursed Earth sapling. Is that all it took in the end? Pathetic.

"Enough of this." Rico demands, impatient. He turns to Wash. "Pass your sentence."

Edited 2017-07-30 19:52 (UTC)

So The Mighty Chin waded into Kubo's show, threatened him with violence, got into a fight with someone defending Kubo, and still thinks he's in the right. Evidently Wash's initial assessment of giant clusterfuck is pretty damn accurate.

"Enough." He doesn't need to be loud when he can be sharp, and he cuts through the conversation completely, rounding on Rico. "You're new, Arbitrator, so you may not know that standard practice around here is to get the entire story before passing judgment." Stick that in your pipe and smoke it. "While Archangel spoke out of turn-" His tone makes the words an admonishment, and he's definitely sending Garrus an apology after this. "-he did provide me with needed information. To that end-"

He turns to face Kubo. "Paperboy, you will report to Kid Quantum's office within twenty-four hours to provide an explanation of events and receive your punishment. Beetle, as his guardian, I expect you to ensure that he does. You are both dismissed." It's completely backwards - they all know that Beetle will forget within the next thirty seconds and Kubo is responsible enough to make his way to Kid Q's himself - but it makes a good show for The Law, and that's what's important right now.

He turns to Garrus next. "Archangel, you are to report to medical. Upon completion of treatment, you are to report immediately to Kid Quantum's office for debriefing and punishment. If you fail to do so, I will see to it personally that your sentence is doubled." Yep, definitely sending him an apology later. "You are dismissed."

Finally, he turns back to The Law. "Arbiter, you are to report to Kid Quantum immediately for debrief. I will accompany you to forestall any further run-ins. Now let's go."

Rico takes Wash's 'sentencing' in with an air of restrained mirth. It's not a bad show at all, but to him it reeks like a juve putting on a bucket and kneepads. Still, it's just about the most respect he'll give in this situation.

"Very well, sir," he drawls, the last word delivered with so much amusement that he might as well not have said it in the first place. "If you're so inclined to be my tour guide..."

Without waiting for anybody else to react, he strides past them with head held high, slowing just a bit as he saunters past Garrus, staring him down with a smirk on his face, a flash of malice in his visor. He ignores the juve and fat man on the other side, not bothered with making an effort to intimidate them. The latter would be wasted effort, and the former will get his turn.

He'll get plenty of opportunity to do that later, he's sure.

And if not, he'll make sure.

The creaking of her gloves reaches his ears, and the hairs on the back of his neck raise in response, hunched over the railings as he is. He's not so far gone that he doesn't pick up on it. He overdid it. He'd thought - he'd thought that was a fairly restrained reaction, all things considered. Still. Better put her at ease; recapture the easy conversation. Reassure her he's not one for the psycho-cubes. He breathes out, recalls the Academy training, tries to clench his fist on those pesky emotions that aren't needed right now and will only compromise his situation if he lets go of them.

He'd never seen the value of hiding his emotions like Joe did. No point in keeping that stone cold poker face all the time. Always hated that training. Hates doing it on the rare occasion that he needs to. Never took to it very well. One side of him refusing to believe in the conditioning just as the other side soaked it in makes for some seriously drokked up emotional impulse control. He'd figured it was better to mask his true feelings with other ones anyway.

For now he swallows it down. It'll come out with a vengeance later whether he likes it or not; any interaction with him turning the crank on the metaphorical jack-in-the-box until it pops on some other unlucky drokker. But for now it'll have to do. Rico grabs that center where everything is blank and cold with both hands, and turns to face her with a smile.

And if Beeny wasn't entirely sure about her leap of logic yet, felt like it was too drastic of a conclusion to jump to?

Well. There it was.

"Of course it's the drokking media." he says slowly, like it's filthy to even say. "That's a lot of classified Justice Department info they could have access to. Especially if they know everything that you do. How do these creeps target these Legionnaires?"

Not because he's curious or anything. Honestly, everything she just said sends a frisson down his spine. Very important note about that amnesty. Though if they'd seen everything he did and they still took him... Might be valuable information on how this place runs. Might be more his kind of place than Beeny's.

"Need members badly enough to be putting up with criminals?" he demands, mock incredulously. Oh, the rest of the news is bad for sure, but he's delighted on the inside. He's having far too much fun at the revelation. "You would stand for this? You're telling me we could be working alongside them?"

Dredd didn't smile. America's not sure he's capable of it. Rumor has it that he had the muscles responsible removed after an incident with Judge Death. How would he actually respond to a situation like this? Cold, stony silence, probably.

This means trouble. Question was whether or not she should warn anyone about it.

At least he's somewhat in control. "Some small receiving device. Grabs your dimensional coordinates if you get too close." She shrugs. "I don't know what it looks like. Just that it's small and very portable, unlike the Anywhere Machine itself. Once they have your coordinates, they just skim through your entire life, pick out the 'sexy' bits, and add some cute commentary. I'm certain you can dig up some of the previously released episodes."

They get brought up often enough. And it was a good resource to get to know your teammates with.

She grunts at his mockery, eyes still narrowed behind her visor. If it were Dredd, she might pass it off as righteous indignation. Rico Dredd, however... No, definitely mockery. "One of our teammates attempted genocide. They make action figures of him." Three guesses as to her reaction when she found out. "I'm taking the stance that we're facing the end of the multiverse. Security of the City act gives me the wiggle room I need to wait until after the crisis is over to start laying down the Law."

It's not something she's mentioned to other people, other than the Legion Leadership. Her plan to bring these criminals in, that is. But even if Rico is... not right, he's still a Judge and he needs to know that she'll uphold their standards here.

Rico nods seriously, filing the information away. He has quite a few 'sexy' bits in his life, perhaps more literal than Beeny intended. Since it looks like there's not much he can do about it, he'd better just figure out a way to deal with it somehow, either before then or as it comes. Maybe he could rely on the higher ups here to keep her off his back for now and slip away in the aftermath, but he'd better start proving to them how useful he could be, fast.

He wonders idly if they'll make action figures of him. Or if there are action figures of Beeny floating around. Daystick included, perfect for beating up suspects in custody! Rico mentally waves the thought away. Not important right now.

"I'll defer to your judgement, ma'am," he drawls, inclining his head. He could practically hear the capitalization in that sentence. Figures. "Even if I may have some... personal objections. I'll be your backup when it comes to that."

If only to shoot her in the back.

Still, she seems to be awfully lenient. Joe wouldn't have had any of it at all. Forget the end of the multiverse - he'd probably get in here and start cracking heads.

"Has the Justice Department become more... flexible, since my time?" he asks, careful to coach it like a casual joke, rather than something that he could have opinions on one way or another.

There are no America Beeny action figures. 'Legal Eagle', on the other hand, has a few with just enough (easily corrected) differences that her attempts at cease and desist orders are under some discussion.

I bet you will doesn't cross her lips, but she nods as if it's an expected response. She knows very little about Rico. He's not even a legend in the Justice Department, just a footnote in Dredd's. The clone that went bad and forced Dredd to kill him. She'll have to use the Anywhere Machine to look up the files on him, but if Dredd had to kill him... Well, it couldn't be good.

"In some ways, yes." She can't give him too many details. Rico with future knowledge? No. But she's been open about this much before, and America's never felt she has anything to hide as far as her opinions went. She slides her palm onto the end of her daystick, just resting it there rather than any threat of its use. "Not enough for my tastes, but I'm working on that." It's just... slow going.

But she'll change the Justice Department. There's not even 'or die trying', she will.

Rico will do some snooping of his own, undoubtedly. If Beeny wants to keep Rico in the dark, she'd better shore up on her defences.

"Not flexible enough for your tastes?" he asks, the words sitting strange and bewildering on his tongue. He steps forward as if drawn to her words, impossible to stop even if he'd wanted to. "You think something about the Justice Department has to be changed?"

What the drokk. He hones in on her simple sentence, and it's impossible not to. It's the first time he's ever heard so much as an admission from another Judge that the system might not be perfect. Necessary to keep order in a city of chaos, too blind to know that it was already beyond that point. He'd never so much as known if he was the only one who thought it, too dangerous to bring up to anybody. Does she see the same thing he does? Recognise the same sick joke that it is?

No. Of course she doesn't. Better not get ahead of himself. But it keeps him hovering all the same, anticipating her words with a tingle in his fingertips but trying not to show it.

One of the first things she'll do is cut off his access to her Anywhere Machine results in the sim rooms. 'To preserve the timeline'. Sounds good to her.

She snorts, then folds her arms over her chest. There are no secrets in the Academy of Law and she's made little effort to hide her ambitions from anywhere else. It's just that they don't come up that much with the old-timers, save Dredd. "My opinions aren't exactly secret." Her tone shifts, moving into an easy, lecturing cadence. "The Justice Department, its culture, is flawed. The Justice System was created to protect the people and enforce the Law, in that order. In the years since your clone-father's death, we've lost track of that." There's a brief pause. "Not that the citizens are competent enough to run things themselves, mind."

Rico doesn't even mind the lecturing tone, for once. He's completely, obviously riveted by her words. Seeing her state this all so candidly makes him feel conflicted, but also strangely resentful. That it was possible, if he were more self-assured, more willing to face the consequences of doing so. Of course, he wouldn't put it half so politely.

"And you're on the Council." he says slowly, in a wondering tone, almost to himself. He wants to burst out into laughter at the thought of it, but enough of the strange calm from before stays that he doesn't. "I can't even drokking believe this."

And he's aware that he's letting on more than he should, and some instinct in the back of his head is telling him to shut his trap. She can say this, but no matter how much of a chord her words ring in him, she likely wouldn't look too favorably on the blackmail, his extra-judicial relations, criminal consortions, or the failed heist at The Herc. He quietens, but Rico's never been a coward.

"You hold a very rare opinion among Judges. Seems rather too much like unjudicial thinking." He offers with a flash of a smile. It even seems genuine, and Rico's not sure himself if it isn't. "It's certainly the first I've heard of it. But if I were to say that I might agree with you? Say that this system, as it is - is flawed?"

He'd say a lot more than that, but he's wary of pushing it too far. To call it a black, filthy, sick joke - well. Let's see how she takes that first

"Youngest member of the Council of Five," America confirms. It's a... reasonable reaction, especially from the 2080s. The returning smile, though, only strengthens her suspicions. This is not Judge Dredd, and she'll never be able to think he was again.

She scoffs. 'Unjudicial thinking'. That's something she's heard before. "You wouldn't be the first Dredd clone to think so." It's almost natural. So much so that she doesn't even realize she didn't refer to him as a Fargo clone. "I can be very convincing. Must be my charming personality."

In any case.

"I wouldn't say that the Justice System is unnecessary. Anyone who thinks that the Judges should disband is a dreamer. But we need to loosen our grip. Let the citizens take some responsibility for themselves. And if they drokk things up..." She shrugs. Cits are cits. Of course they'll drokk things up. "The Judges will be there."

"Understood." Garrus replies, a slight edge of annoyance in his voice at being told that he'd spoken out of turn.

The rest of it though, had gone down as expected, except maybe for Rico going quietly. Considering how self-righteously he'd faced everything else here, he'd half-thought that he'd make an issue out of it when things turned against him. Maybe that same, unwavering belief that he actually was the embodiment of justice was letting him walk out of here with his head held high - confident that this would turn out his way. It would certainly explain the smugness plastered across Rico's bloodied face.

Garrus meets Rico's eyes as the latter swaggers past, but doesn't react more than a slight twitch of his mandibles. If Rico was trying to piss him off, it was working, but Garrus wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

This wasn't over though. He could feel it.

Once Rico had moved past, Garrus turned to Kubo and Beetle. He looked Kubo over, scanning him for any sign of injury, and finding none, his expression softened a bit.

Good. At least one thing had gone right, here.

This whole thing has...not quite gone over Beetle's head, in the sense he's very aware that he's out of his league. And yet, there's something about the way he straightens, paying close attention to Freelancer, that almost suggests familiarity-

-hard to tell with him, though, as ever. Regardless, Kubo will find a set of hands gently placed on his shoulders, a brief reassuring squeeze given at his reactions to all this. Moving a little around isn't a bad thing, right?

Once the orders are given, another hand raises to give a salute- "Yes, sir!" And Kubo's shoulders are given another little squeeze before he's being not-quite-gently tugged away. Someone has just a little more storytelling to do...

Rico's about to grin, fire a joke back about her charm, but stills at the phrasing. Dredd clone? The hell does that mean? He cocks his head to the side. "I didn't think we'd get so famous that we'd displace the Fargo name. But by that you mean you... know... my brother?"

There's a faint spark of displeasure that arises at the thought. She didn't seem to let on that she knew Rico personally. So... Joe? She knew Joe, and she didn't know him? That was just unfair. He'd bet him and Beeny would get along much better than his little brother ever could.

"But I can imagine him now. Eighty and still as stubborn as ever. Not surprised he lives that long." Rico barks out a laugh as he shakes his head, dismissive and fond in the same breath. "Calling council members unjudicial," he mutters under his breath. "Of course he did."

But honestly, it's not nearly enough of a radical opinion as he'd hoped - of course, Rico, what were you expecting? - and the disappointment shutters off his expression, looking just a little more like the emotionless lawman she might know. But it's still something he wasn't even sure was possible, and it dredges up complicated feelings he can't seem to ignore.

"I believe we might have some - similar ideals, Judge Beeny." Similar. But not quite the same. The Justice System was a corrupt, festering mess, not worth salvaging at all, and he'd gladly watch the Justice Department come crashing down instead. "We've gotten far beyond the point where we need to stop. Wouldn't hurt to let the cits experience some personal freedom if they won't hurt themselves on it."

America holds up a warning finger. "I've worked with multiple Dredds." It's true. She was one of the ones to decide on Paris. She's worked with Rico, met Dolman, and was mentored by Dredd. "There's over half a dozen of you running around," whether on the streets or in the Academy, "So don't take anything for granted."

Anyhow. She shifts just slightly. "The Fargo bloodline is a good one, but you can only sample and alter DNA so many times before it starts to degrade. Since clones are a perfect replica of the original, we've started taking their DNA samples directly rather than trying to squeeze every last drop out of the original donors. And, let's be honest, 'Fargo' doesn't exactly strike fear into the hearts of the citizens. Otherwise I'd be talking to someone with a name that's actually spelled right."

Fight her, Rico.

She stares at him for a moment after his statement about their ideals, clamping down on the urge to laugh in his face. "Not entirely what I expected to hear from a Dredd. You're usually... sticklers." She pauses. "Those of who you didn't quit and join the Space Corps or become actors, I mean." Vienna counted. Even if she was Rico's daughter and never a Judge.

Come to think of it, why hadn't Dredd recommended her for the Academy? Fear that his brother's sin would carry through?

Rico has never taken being the butt of a joke very well.

"Don't take it up with me. Blame the teks that named me. Not like I had any choice in the matter," he scoffs. Truth be told, he likes the name. Makes him feel like something more than he is, determined to live up to his terrible purpose if that's what they really wanted from them. They said so much themselves, didn't they? Dread.

"Half a dozen of me, but not any like me," he continues, a little snappishly. Looks like Beeny may have hit a sore spot there. But after a moment, realizes it might have been too much backtalk to a senior Judge he doesn't quite know. "But I don't see why they wouldn't," he concedes, grudgingly. "By all accounts, we are successes. Looks like me and Joe have some kids of our own, then." he says, cheered by the thought. To their knowledge anyway. Can't argue with academy results and arrest statistics.

But -

"Quit?" He asks, incredulous. "What do you mean, quit?" Either he heard her wrong, or -

He chuckles suddenly, like he's getting the joke. "I get it. You're just feeding me the stomm, aren't you? Since when would the Department ever allow that?"

The long walk, the academy, or death. Those were the three options Rico had lying in front of him, and he couldn't imagine things changing that much that any alternative could happen. Especially for a Fargo bloodline. They were valuable investments, and there was power in symbolism. The face of the father of Justice leaving the department? No way. It was unimaginable. It was easier to think it was all a joke.

Rico quietens, mind whirling.

But. What if? She can't drop something like that and not expect him to ask. It makes him a little angry, to be honest, as he reassesses her with suspicious eyes, but the anger is still distant, as if behind a glass screen. What the hell does she think she's playing at?

"Actor? Good one." He says, in a challenging tone.

[Staring at the Judge critically, as if he's trying to puzzle something out, he almost opens his mouth to argue against him again, but thankfully thinks better of it this time. He was fairly certain there was nothing he could say that would affect this man's reasoning. Which was just about the one down side to not being taken seriously by someone, at least when it came to engaging in a calm conversation.

But even if he couldn't make him stop his quest to 'confiscate' all the sugar, he could still take this opportunity to learn more about the kind of person he was dealing with. Chances were this probably wouldn't be the last time they ran into each other, best to be prepared.]

Out of curiosity, how many other people in the vicinity would you say are doing something they shouldn't?

[Taking a step to the side so that Rico could have a full view of the cafeteria again, his voice is back to its normal measured tone, far from friendly but genuinely curious.]

Rico rubs his chin, putting on a show of consideration. Then, with great ceremony, raises his finger and points at various places in the crowded room.

To a particularly rowdy group of Legionnaires laughing loudly and ribbing each other. "Public disturbance. Sentenced to four months each in the iso-cubes."
A person tipping his cup of tea into the trash can. "Improper disposal of waste. Sentenced to thirty days in the iso-cubes. There's a liquid waste receptacle to the right he knowingly ignored, so add a three-hundred cred fine to that."
Somebody dropping a plastic fork under the table and after a glance, leaving it there with a shrug. "Littering. Six months in the iso-cubes."
A large, bulky man holding up the line by standing in front of the drinks section. "Loitering and causing obstruction. One hundred credits fine."
Then, finally, an alien with ten shuffling feet just going about her business. "Walking funny."

Hey, this is pretty fun. Like an exercise in the academy. Rico then looks sidelong at Thad, conspiratorially whispering to him a shared joke. "But if it were me, I'd just let her off with a warning. Not like she can help it!"

Following Rico's finger as he pointed out each infraction and gave a suggested punishment, if Thad was alarmed by any of them, or disapproved of them, he didn't show it. The most reaction he manages to get out of him this time is a raised eyebrow at that last one and the conspiratorial whisper that came with it.

"You could instruct her to remove some of her feet." He suggested, his deadpan tone as unchanging as his expression, making it hard to tell if he was joking back, mocking Rico or being completely serious.

"How many of those would you attempt to follow through with in this universe."

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Page 5 of 6

[OPEN] Getting to grips

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