2013.05.02 - The New Blue

Typical day in the GCPD. Men and women in uniforms or suits bustling about shouting, civilian traffic for tickets, fines, etc. Hectic especially considering it's a monday. Dick Grayson is lounging just outside of the break room against the concessions table, a casual button up deep blue shirt and black-grey slacks worn, his badge visible and attached to his belt.. A water bottle from the machine in his hand as he listens to a young blond officer with a mustache talking loudly about what sounds like a fish that was pulled out of the Gotham Harbor. Detective Grayson is only only smiling as he listens to the story and the rather enthusiastic policeman.

"I'm telling you Dick, it was this long." The man's hands are waved out wide giving a space between them.

"Had seven eyes. Someone said it is probably Roxxxon Oil spill over or something that caused it and several of those eyes were human. Not fish, human and best part of all it had human fingers instead of fins."

A headshake from the dark haired detective ensues, "I doubt that, Adam. I mean, pollution and mutations happen but this just sounds a little far. We would have read about it in the news."

"We got costumed superheroes in bright tights, mutants, aliens and lunatics who think they're bats running around this city and you want to say a freakazoid fish is unlikely?"

"Not saying completely unlikely or impossible just how come it's a friend of a friend sort of story? Facts, Adam. We're law enforcement its what we work on."

Officer Adam Hinkley reaches up and scratches the top of his head, "I suppose so. But it's still a great story, can you imagine what else is out there if its true? I'll never eat fish again."

New meat. That is what some of them called it, and likely some forms of hazing were soon to ensue once this woman is done being the focus of passing. A box in her clutches as she manages to walk rather poised with the full burden of her things within. A pencil skirt slightly slit up the back falls just above her knees, riding up over her hips where the white bluse tucks in beneath the waist band, clipped to it a badge, but the box is covering the name upon the obvious station hired into within Gotham's Precinct.

"..And forgive those here, it's not often someone brand new comes into this as you have Miss Del Toro, we work our way up here."

Angela offers the man a glance and seems more intent at watching him instead of meeting the gazes of those that are steadily intent on her. "I am sure I can handle it, what doesn't kill you... After all.." A small quirk of one corner of her lips signifying a smile on its way to beginning before she does look away and catch openly staring gazes, glowering in return with a narrowing of kohl lined eyes that were a piercing green and gold.

"Whoah." Officer Hinkley murmurs before slapping Grayson on the shoulder. "Check out the newbie." An appreciative whistle follows.

Dick's own eyes are already there and he offers a polite smile. "Careful, Hinkley. You're still in uniform." A pat given to the man's shoulder and Dick steps past to make his way towards Angela.

"Pick a desk. You won't be in it long." A heavy set and broad shouldered man with an unlit cigar between his teeth says to Del Toro as he squeezes past a chair to get down the isle. "Three opened this week and yeah, you're meant to think about that one."

One more appreciative whistle to add to the mutterings and echoes was easily ignored. In New York's precinct she had family that would form a line and glare for her to silence anything, here... None of that. Though her mother would likely start assessing the men and their pay grade as well as their suitable ability for a family and had it all to her in a folder. It was much to her mother's chagrin that Angela bore that cold shoulder offered so easily.

Finding the desk she set her box down and smoothed her hands down over her crumpled blouse and the front of her dress, a sharp snapping motion to undo the wrinkles that had formed there. "It's why I came, sir. The turnover rate was ever so tempting." Angela states with a smile that was a mixture of sincerity and determination.

"So basically you're another nutty broad like the rest here." The man retorts with his usual display of diplomatic skill.

"Don't you have work to be doing, Bullock?" The thin mustached scowling man at the end of the hall barks before making his way over to the desk she's chosen out. "Welcome aboard Gothams Major Crimes Unit, I assume the Captain's already briefed you and given you the run down. The captain isn't in but you have any questions just go ahead and ask me or hit up one of these clowns around here. Get yourself settled in and then get out there and familiarize yourself with the streets this isn't quite like the New York you're used to. Looks like Grayson is partnering up with you today." His head turns to look at the man standing close to them pretending he wasn't walking over to meet her already, "Isn't that right, Dick?"

"Thats right, sir. Exactly why I was on my way over here."

"I'm sure it was. Need anything, Del Toro? No, didn't think so." Not really waiting for a response the Lieutenant Cornwell spins on a heel and strides back in to his office shutting the door.

Hands exchange as well as words and Angela is just... Standing there, the smile never fades, it manages to only warp with her sarcastic tenor of humor in response to keep the jabs to a minimal amount of bruising that would only set her up for more. She knows how this goes. Lowest on the pole gets to be the amusement. "It's part fo the job prerequisites, sir. To be insane. I see you passed with flying colors."

The new man coming to replace the cigar-chewing Bullock gets a glance as she begins to pull things out of her box, nodding in response to the run down and not saying anything even as Dick gets introduced, not yet.

Angela opens the top drawer top her desk only to have a large rubber snake springing out at her, her bent over position straightening as her hand snaps forward to catch it before it hits her in the face, an audible *squeak* of its innards heard from the cheap internal squeaker.

"Another box to store all this crap in..." Muttered as the man walks off without hearing what she needed, though it was honestly nothing, she would manage on her own... Or with the help of Dick, who she now acknowledges while standing there with a snake in her hand and laughter rippling over the desks.

"I'm Angela, this is Scooter." She says, flicking her wrist and slapping the long rubber snake around in emphasis. "Please let me know if you are going to provide me with more to add to my collection... I'm not good with naming them."

"Angela, Scooter, it's nice to meet the both of you." Dick situates himself so he is half sitting on her desk, arms folding up over his chest. "You're safe, I'm not big on gags or prank toys." So many reasons. Borderline psychological trauma kind of reasons. "I'm not night shift but got stuck hanging around a bit too late." This happens when you're snooping around.

Slapping the snake down on her desk, Angela is now going safe by using the toe of her stiletto to open the lower drawers, not even bothering to bend to get into them and get a face full of whatever else they managed to stuff within. Nothing... Huh.

Emptying the contents of her box into the drawers she does so neatly, almost a militaristic perfection to how everything is being placed, but there is a rhyme to her reason with the sparse things she puts in the drawers. In the top one though a small metal box is placed to the side, running a wire along the drawers bottom to loop it along the side and tuck a trigger beneath the handle. Easily hidden, unseen unless looking closely. Using her hip she shuts the drawer and smile to Dick.

"I'm not on nights either, for now. They're booked solid."

"Oh? You've been here a day and you already have a full schedule. Impressive." One of Dicks feet idly begins to tap it's heel against the leg of the desk. "So what did you do before getting transferred to Gotham, Miss Del Toro? It is Miss right?" Across from them one of the TV's begins to play footage of several cities away. Two metas apparently got in to a brawl and caused a small explosion that injured thirteen and killed two. One of the men closest to the tv cursing profanities up and down about the freaks and tossing a balled up wad of paper at the screen.

"Yeah, moving with the transfer, getting acquainted with what all Gotham has to offer. Sleep. That kind of booked solid." Yep, getting 'acquainted' in more ways then one. She has an inner beast to let out on the prowl, something that she looks forward to and would rather not have interrupted. Freedom - though this job is just as liberating, but different.

When the news on the TV rolls Angela is looking at it, her words paused, lingering on parted lips before she darts her gaze back towards Dick and nods. "Miss, yes. I was in the FBI." She states lowly, and nearly dismissively as she begins breaking down the box to throw it away.

"Oh, a Fed? That /is/ cool. It takes a lot of school, influence and hard work to get in to a gig like that. Very impressive, Miss Del Toro." Dick smiles pushing away from his seat to walk around to the other side of her watching her unpack, "I won't ask more on that one. Just trying to be friendly and welcoming. I know how much grief you're going to get put through around here, I'm fresh enough myself I still get jabs." "It also doesn't hurt I'm the youngest detective in the entire district." He's not bragging he is just being factual here, trying to make small talk.

Bending down she pulls her purse out of the lower desk drawer, one that is small, adequate and strapped across shoulders so both hands are free at all times. "What can I say, this is my passion. Ask away, but I prefer not here..." Angela states lowly, not looking up to check if anyone is eaves dropping. Many didn't like when you flashed a status as such and she is treading carefully not to step on toes before they are even within a city block of her.

Then, it dawns on her and her eyes rise before her head does to focus on Dick as he speaks. The man said he was her partner, but only for the night right? His youth, and admittance of newness to the detective league -at least-... "Shit." It is said on an exhale, low enough to possibly almost sound like nothing.

Angela was curious, was going to prod back, but now... Damnit he is being nice, inviting, and one of the last things she needs right now. "What did you do before this?" So she buckles and is inwardly scathing on herself for it.

"Hrm?" Dick hums at the -Shit- not pressing it though as he skips on to her question. "The usual, worked for a circus with my family, they died, I got adopted, went to school and now I'm a cop." A dismissive shrug and he looks around before tucking his hands down in to his pockets. "Asking later works for me. I've got to show you around anyways." Another warm smile appears on the man's handsome features.

Angela opens her mouth, closes it, and simply nods; thought put into what she says next because the first spurt of words with no filter may unintentionally offend. Looking down she nods and picks up the box, dropping the strap of her purse over her shoulder to run at an angle across her front and back. "So now after all of your experience, you can fly through the air with the greatest of ease and be my tour guide. This I have to see." Okay, maybe that is not any better. Reaching up she sighs and runs fingers through her hair, letting it fall haphazardly back into place as she looks around and stops back on Dick, offering him a genuine smile while heading past him, the barest of brushes as she leans in and whispers, "I dare one of them to touch my desk, maybe after that surprise they'll leave us alone, hm?" and with that she keeps walking, exiting the desk laden area.

A light headshake and Dick follows after her. "Yes, I'm a great tour guide now. It's part of my arsenal of great talents."

"It's about dinner time. You like pizza, Del Toro? I'll take us to Luigi's. We get a discount there." Grabbing his jacket off the coat rack Dick slings it around his shoulders then hurries over to hold the door open.

"Arsenal? Do tell." Angela smirks at Dick and pauses by the front desk where a sub section is a row of small monitors for the many security cameras the place bears, all of them on a timed rotation through rooms, flashes showing what is going on where. Once he has his coat Angela tugs him to the desk to stand behind the officer on duty to man the said screens and watch, tapping the one that pans above the detectives space.

It's easy to see one of the men wait, look out the door to be sure there is no sign of Angela or Dick before he gets up and goes for her desk, another trick in his one hand as the other reaches for the drawer handle and goes to tug it open...

Pan this to slow motion as suddenly his body comes to a still, shakes, and then he drops to the floor, that rubber spider's legs doing a dance all their own with the mans new electro-shock therapy he did not order, just before it goes flying backwards. From that room you can hear what the screens did not show.

"Oh man! That was rich!"

"She got you!"

"I think Harry wet himself.."

By the time Dick can look up Angela is already headed to the door with a broad grin on her face. "Pizza sounds fantastic."