[Erika Alexander] ((Hey, unless you’re tied to a scene… we could say we’re working one together? Erika is frequently called in for consult on trauma/abuse cases))
to Izzy Montoya
[Izzy Montoya] (Sure, if you like. :) Izzy is primarily homicide, but we can work something out. Care to open scene? :) )
to Erika Alexander
[Erika Alexander] ((Certainly. I’m sure it can be worked out. She also treats vets with PTSD, so there’s that whole loose canon. Maybe one of her patients lost it?))
to Izzy Montoya
[Izzy Montoya] (sorry, had a phone call. *L* sure, that works. Set’er up and I’ll work izzy in. :) )
to Erika Alexander
[Izzy Montoya] .
to Izzy Montoya
[Erika Alexander] Locust Street bisects Sedgwick at a tucked-away part of Cabrini Green. Scrawny ghetto palms line the grimy, run-down apartment lots. The opposite side of Sedgwick is some abandoned lot called a park… or a playground rather. Few children are seen by day, and the lot functions as grounds for plenty of gang activities. A small mart down the street is located in convenient view of the grounds.
Berries and cherries cast long and sporadic shadows over the area. The police have been here for hours, in front of a slumlord’s apartment complex. Inside, a private on leave lost his nerve and shot another resident. The local precinct collaborated with the MPs on how to reel one Private First Class John Rodriguez into custody. Now there was only to sort out the paperwork, process the scene.
Among the many who have access to the scene as it is tying up is some fancy psychotherapist. She is immaculately groomed and almost too well dressed for the area. Although relatively plain of face, the thirty-year-old woman stands out in some small ways. She carries herself too well, for one, and the second would be something not quite visible in this poor orange-tinted light: the scars on the side of her face.
The psychotherapist has an official-looking badge and has gone back and forth between the local and military police. Occasionally, a hysterical witness is brought her way. It is odd how well she does her job. Should any pay attention, she performs her job with the utmost diligence and well-honed skills. A perfectionist.
[Izzy Montoya] They have been here for hours. She has been here for hours, and only now are things calming down, with just the paperwork looming in the near future. Izzy stands out – in different ways than Erika. Where as the psychotherapist is a perfectionist, well dressed, and carries herself well – too well – Izzy is much the opposite. She is there, in the trenches, and has been so for decades. It is her that they turn too, asking questions, seeking direction. It was Izzy that lead alongside the MPs to bring the shooter into custody. It is Izzy that made the rounds to make sure her officers were uninjured. And it was Izzy that got into some snotnosed young MPs face when he sought to tell her how to do her job.
That’s likely the first that Erika had heard from her – a roll of expletives that impressed even the Military, and a strength of will that could not be denied. Would not be denied. They soon reached an understanding – Izzy was right, in charge and would remain so, and he got to keep his balls – and they continued to work side by side. Izzy is one of the boys. Izzy is the LEADER of many of the boys. And her boys? back her up, 100%.
She’s noticed Erika, and did some asking around. As things finally start to calm down, that’s when she makes her way toward the other woman, pausing only to dig a battered pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her pocket, using the latter to put flame to the end of one of the former, before tucking them away again. She inhales deeply, and exhales, before coming to rest nearby Ericka, her dark eyes watching the other woman. There’s little to be gleaned from her expression – she simply watches.
[August Grant] What in the world was August doing out here – especially alone? Well, no one knew but her. You see.. the young woman had retaken the job at the women’s shelter and she had stopped by a woman’s apartment to make sure that she and her six children were doing alright. She’d spent most of the afternoon over there .. playing with the children, helping their mother fix lunch.. and other such general daily things – plus the women’s empowerment thing she was all big on nowdays.
So, now.. dear blonde August.. and her thirty-six week pregnant self was headed down the street, back towards the L. She didn’t carry a purse, just a folder – she was smarter than that. She looked like an easy enough target as it was.
Her gaze lingered on the crime scene as she waddled on by, snacking on a pretzel.
[Erika Alexander] Izzy’s firey determination, her candor, is something that Erika almost immediately respects. But from their duties, she doesn’t get a chance to express it. She’s called a doctor although the lanyard around her neck doesn’t read PhD. Instead, it reads Erika Alexander, LCP, CGP, MA.
Ms. Alexander is new, but has already been utilized around much of Chicago. In the month she’s been here, she’s put in enough hours to make brokers give a nod of respect, practically crawling throughout the city on difficult trauma cases.
Turns out the Private was one of her patients who had gone AWOL recently. Alexander went out of her way occasionally for at-risk patients who didn’t show. The woman has some fixed determination of her own. She seems accustomed to the process, doesn’t get in the way, but doesn’t shy to the sidelines either if she’s needed.
Izzy moves to get a closer look, and Erika notices. Dark, determined eyes meet another set in kind. Not cut from the same cloth, but perhaps underneath a few common threads? The shrink approaches, offering a hand. “Erika Alexander. I’m here as consult.”
[Izzy Montoya] Izzy switches her cigarette to her left hand, and slips her right into Erika’s easily enough. Her grip is strong, but not overpowering. Just enough to hint at the iron strength that runs under her skin. She is no stunning beauty, Izzy, and she doesn’t dress up the fact that she’s female, or feminine in any way. One Fenrir commented once that she walked like a guy, as if it was an insult. Izzy took it as a compliment.
“Detective Izzy Montoya. Homicide.” The name and rank match the badge hanging around her neck. She takes a drag, and then with a nod. “Heard he was one of yours.” A question there – unvoiced, but requesting whatever information Erika can add. Izzy has her own ways, of course, but must wait a while longer for the scene to clear out more.
As she speaks, her gaze flicks toward August, watching the obviously pregnant woman’s progress along the walk.
[August Grant] It’s slow. For one, because she’s huge (poor thing) and two.. because she’s gawking. Who doesn’t gawk at a crime scene!?
[Erika Alexander] A nod from the blonde. “I’ve only had two sessions with Mr. Rodriguez. The VA has a new program… they want us to categorize the at-risk patients.” So, she had an idea that Rodriguez was breaking. Her own eyes follow Izzy’s observance of the pregnant woman. A flicker of recognition goes through her, but this isn’t the time or place to be calling out kin on the dangers of wandering the neighborhood alone. In fact, she wonders if she should call someone.
[Izzy Montoya] Izzy, having glanced at August, returns her full attention on Erika, in time to catch the recognition of the other kin. She nods, slightly, at the information. “You’ll be giving us a full report, then?” Not that there’s really any doubt.
A beat, then a nod of her head toward August. “Know her?”
[August Grant] All those flashing lights.. and crime tape. No blue tarps outside though. She knew what the blue tarps meant.. she’d watched Cops before. Hrm.. oh well – nothing too interesting to see.
The young woman snagged another pretzel from the small bag she had with her and munched on it as she continued her walk down the street towards the L.
[Erika Alexander] “Whatever isn’t covered by confidentiality,” she agrees, but sharply adding that last part. Yes, she’s aware of the violence clause of medical confidentiality, and would cooperate enthusiastically with only what that clause applied to.
The blonde shakes her head. “Vaugely, I’ve seen her around.” She concludes the information there, since she didn’t want to lie and set the cop on a goose chase. “I don’t know her name.”
[Izzy Montoya] Whatever isn’t covered. “Of course.” It’s said with a slight smirk, as she lowers her hand to flick the ashes off the edge of her cigarette, watching it flutter toward the cement below. She lifts her head then, and studies the pregnant woman. “Not a good place for her to be walking alone.”
But she doesn’t make a move toward the other woman to stop her.
[August Grant] This wasn’t the best place for her to be.. but it didn’t look like it bothered her much. She held herself with a confidence that made it look like she knew what she was doing and where she was going. There were plenty of pregnant women around here – maybe just not the blonde haired kind.
So.. she just continued on down the block – and shortly, she’d turn the corner and board the train back to the Brotherhood.
[August Grant] {Don’t let me derail your scene .. she’s just walkin by and will go away – I wanted to play, but knew she couldn’t do more than this. Lol}
to Erika Alexander, Izzy Montoya
[Erika Alexander] The kin makes no move to stop her either. “I’m sure she’s fine. I think she has family in the area.” This sliver of ambiguous speech is the only hint the kin shares with the other, and she doesn’t stress it suspiciously, either.
One of the younger MPs stares in their direction, sneering. Soon enough, the gawker nudges one of his companions and they speak for a moment. A small portion of the crew obstructs their view of the two for long enough that Erika is no longer interested. Who cares? Let them talk. God, if one of them knew how she spent her weekends…
[Izzy Montoya] “Ah.” That’s all she says in regards to having family in the area, as it’s a small sliver, and not enough to trigger any additional response. An MP stares – and while Erika ignores them, Izzy stares him down.
“Got something to say, private?” She arches a brow, slightly, and waits until he decides it might be a better idea not to stare at the homicide detective. She does have quite the reputation of being fast on the trigger, after all.
“What about you?” She brings the conversation back to her current companion. “been around long?”
[August Grant] And.. August disappeared around the corner.
[Erika Alexander] The kin makes no move to stop her either. “I’m sure she’s fine. I think she has family in the area.” This sliver of ambiguous speech is the only hint the kin shares with the other, and she doesn’t stress it suspiciously, either.
One of the younger MPs stares in their direction, sneering. Soon enough, the gawker nudges one of his companions and they speak for a moment. A small portion of the crew obstructs their view of the two for long enough that Erika is no longer interested. Who cares? Let them talk. God, if one of them knew how she spent her weekends…
[Erika Alexander] ((Sorry ack))
[Erika Alexander] Erika couldnt honestly be bothered to give a shit about the gawkers. She takes out her own cigarette and flares it to life. A breath or two go by before Erika replies to the Detective on the case. There’s nothing intentionally stuffy about her… but clearly she’s damn good at it.
“A month. Give or take,” she replies with a wave of the hand holding the cigarette. “No real time to get in-depth with patients yet.”
[Izzy Montoya] She nods, slightly. “Understandable.” a beat. “Job bring you here, or?”
Izzy’s not very good at small talk, not really. But she tries, as she watches those at the scene, keeping track of her team and their progress. She seems to see everything – and the fear that she won’t miss a single tiny little mistake keeps her team on their toes. There are reasons she’s considered one of the best in the city, after all.
[Erika Alexander] As there’s nothing else officially for her to do here, Erika has no need to keep an eye on anyone. She observes with a keen eye, but remains behind with Izzy, becoming more detached from the scene as time progresses. Perhaps this is the way she winds down between jobs?
A puff on the cigarette. “Yes, but it turns out I have some distant family here as well.” Another slight hint, but Erika has no way of knowing about Izzy herself.
[Izzy Montoya] She chuckles, without mirth. “Family has a funny way of doing that – cropping up where you least expect.”
A hint, perhaps, of her own. Where Trueborn are obvious, and easily noted due to their press of rage, the life of a kin is that much more difficult, when it comes to finding one another.
[Erika Alexander] The blonde nods again, but says nothing. Normally, she would brood over these thoughts, but not after the weekend she’s had. Only miles in distance, the previous days were like being on another world entirely. Sailing on a yacht, piling into ridiculously expensive cars, staying at a modern palace of glass and concrete. No, life’s not bad at all for this Fang kin. She smiles a bit, but catches herself and takes another drag of the cigarette.
“Agreed, Detective Montoya. Do you have my card? Never know, you may need it.”
[Izzy Montoya] She shakes her head, but slips her hand into the pocket of her light jacket, and pulls out a card case of her own. She peels free a plain white card with her information on it as well, and offers it in exchange for Erika’s own.
“You never know.” She agrees, with that slight curve of her lips. Not quite warm enough to be considered a smile, not quite caustic enough to give birth to a full smirk.
[Izzy Montoya] .
to Izzy Montoya