Something is lurking in the alleyways... [Isen/Obs]

The story was...uncomfortable and the insult of his probing for information seemed minor. He rubbed his right temple with two fingers and breathed sharply out. He had heard of cases where people have brought others back to life, however, this pissed off some people on the other side. He then smiled, a very odd thing to do after the whole sob story of Sasha. He walked over toward the table and sat on the edge, looking straight at him with sparkling eyes. He was happy that this case wasn't like the others.

"Let me tell you something, Ronald. There once was a man in Germany, who had lost his wife in a hurry. He brought her back to life and got his wife. Now she lives eternally," He said in a rhythmic tone. "Do you get the story? When you die, she'll be left alone with the thought that killing will be the only way to live. So she'll go on a killing spree, men who've done crime, women, and even children. And guess who has to pick up the pieces. Not me because the agency will find that I didn't do my job right, someone much worse will come along and dismantle her. Don't doubt that it will be impossible, some of the agents are not fully human and are way more powerful than I am. That's my first problem with this scenerio. The second is that, if you're obvious unrestrained anger towards whoever is living better than you are goes boiling over, what's to stop you from making more Sashas and completely eradicating the big heads of society? See, even though they live better, they are still required to be alive, unfortunately. Or what if someone else comes along, steals your idea of creating life inside a machine. That particular person becomes the new warlord of this city. What I'm saying, Mister Ronald, is that I'm here to stop any that from happening not because its for my own good or for humanity but it is for the good of all living and nonliving beings." He finished, his voice raised some in the heat of the moment, but then cooled when he breathed slowly out. He got off the table and headed for the door but before he opened it, he turned around with a cheerful smile.

"If you must know...I have lost 142 men and women under and over my command. I have witnessed countless deaths of innocents and comrades and I have made peace with that. You didn't do so, you brought back to life a being who had died because of your inability to move on. I understand this, somewhat, but I don't want you to lose her again. If she keeps killing instead of apprehending criminals, I have to step in to stop her. I will be sending a report to AMO informing them that a golem, not a automaton woman, is assisting a toy maker and that's all. If I did mention she was the first robotic living being the agency would scramble over here faster then you can said 'I, Robot'. Think of this as a favor and you can repay it by making sure she understands not to kill criminals, merely apprehend them and turn them in. Is this clear?" All this he said in an authoritarian tone, making it seem like he was much older sounding.

The old man stood there, hands crossed on his chest, as he listened to the young man, and his tirade about things. If one were able to kill with a gaze, he'd be incinerated a dozen times over, at this very moment. Needless to say, Ronald despised him. For everything - starting from the attitude, and ending with the way he grinned when he was not supposed to. Was the tragedy that befell his family a laughing matter?

- You lost over a hundred people and you've made peace with that? Hmph, shows how much you cared about them. - Ronald replied somewhat scornfully. - Forgive me if I don't shed tears about poor criminals, which would never again be able to hurt anyone.

The man had no idea where the statement about 'hating those who lived better than him' came from. If anything, it only showed that the look of intelligence the agent tried to broadcast was a lie to cover a bigoted and narrow mind, or, at least, so Ronald thought. He had already made his conclusions about this man. And this would be the last time he would ever cross his doorstep.

His eyes drifted over, to the half-finished constructs that were surrounding them all. It would've been so easy... to just seek them all on the arrogant kid, tear him apart, and make sure that his agency would never ever find out about him, or her. But, as Ronald soon realized, it was probably impossible. If he were to end this man right now, his precious organization would surely come looking. And then... then he would probably be in a little more trouble than a mere shopkeeper could handle.

- And you misunderstood me. I do not care about anybody's wealth. But we live in dark times, where laws are written by people who have never seen a bandit with a knife up close. Everybody is considered only about giving criminals a second chance, and protecting their rights, but nobody bothers with rights of their victims.

His attitude was rather stereotypical for someone, who had suffered from crime. Ask anyone who had ever experienced on their own skin the brunt of criminal world, who had lost a loved one due to them. Try speaking to them about rights of the criminals, and they would spit in your face. Or try punching it in, depending on the attitude. But, finally, they had to come to the last, and probably the most important point... That point being Sasha, and what she had to do with criminals. Although their perspectives on apprehending criminals were in stark contrast, Ronald knew that the law, now, wasn't with him. A corrupted law, that was.

- Here's the only thing I can promise to you, agent. I can make Sasha stop her preemptive strikes against criminals, and have her use no lethal force. But, in case the criminal she is apprehending is using lethal force against her, there is nothing I will do to stop her from ending his or her life. I will not let her hold back and be destroyed because of it. It would be self-defense...

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!*

The rather heated discussion was interrupted by a rather loud knocking at the door from the other side. Judging by strength of the knocks and the metallic pftanking sounds, it was Sasha. And soon enough, her voice was heard, from behind the door:

- Is everything alright out there? - she sounded worried. Ronald sighed, and shook his head, taking out a headkerchief to wipe his forehead.

- Anything else you need to speak to me about, mister Lovecraft? If not, I want you to leave my home as soon as possible. In other words... get out of my sight.

Stan was far from angry when the old man began to judge him as uncaring toward his fallen comrades. He felt more pity for the old man, knowing that he could never move on with his life, sense he blatantly and stubbornly refused it.

"I'll tell you a little secret, Mister Ronald," He said as he moved toward the door, his back to Ronald. "I care for them, but I learned something that you will never be able to do until it is to late, until your body is nothing but an empty shell. I learned to move on and in doing so I allowed my men to rest in peace to whatever Heaven or Hell they go to. I made sure that I lived with the consequences of my actions and with the memories I have of them, they stay alive without being brought back, ripped away from their paradise. See, Mister Ronald, I find you a pitiful old man who refuses to move on, who rips souls out from the very deep abyss because he can't move on. You are the lowest being I have ever met and it is just sad to see you like this."

When he finished and the knocking came from the door, he opened it and shut the old man inside his dark workshop, leaving him to whatever meaningless thoughts he had. He didn't hear the last part the old man said, but he didn't find it meaningful to listen, he was beyond saving. "I want to say something to you," He began in a soft voice, placing his hands on her shoulder and leaning in close so the old man couldn't hear him. "I want you to promise me that you will join a group. A bunch of beings with powers that are dedicated to justice. it'll give you the chance to know what fighting crime is really like. I also want you to not go out and kill criminals. Your father worries about you, thinks you'll get hurt and would prefer you to kill. His doubts in his own invent...daughter...should not be present. Your much tougher than you look. Can you promise me this?" He asked, waiting for a response as his heel was placed against the door, making the discussion private as he temporarily trapped the old man in. He was going to take his foot off when he had a response and leave without anymore trouble.

The old man didn't manage to grace the agent with an answer, before the door closed shut. He just stayed within the confines of his own workshop, silent, staring at the door for a few long moments. There was no point in any more arguing anyway. The men had affirmed their stances on things, and the gap between them was too large for any bridge to be laid across it. Trying to convince one another beyond that point was a waste of time. Ronald has been denied a final word in this debate. So he stood there, staring at the blueprint on the wall blankly. What could possibly the arrogant youngling know? Nothing. He certainly was not in any position to judge. Or so the old man thought, in his misery.

Sasha let out something akin to a gasp of relief when Stan finally left the room. She had been fidgeting in place, and could've heard harsh intonations between her father and the 'policeman'. It made her worried - two figures of authority clashing. While dad, of course, was supreme authority, the fact that it clashed with someone who's status the girl had been taught to obey, made her uneasy. She blinked a few times, looking at the agent with her brightly-glowing glass eyes. The magical power in them glowing, similarly to the mage behind the door.

- A ... promise? Sasha was going to join the Teen Titans anyhow! It is what she always wanted! So I will. Don't worry, mister Agent, I will not kill any criminals anymore. Sasha's a good girl! - she nodded affirmatively, and let the man pass, opening the door behind him and going into the room, to find her dad. He was still there, not bothering to free himself, and just standing there. He looked sad, obviously distraught from a stranger digging into his most painful wound, and treating it so unceremoniously like that. If he could, he would destroy the arrogant brat, but he knew he couldn't. He was afraid said organization of his would come and take Sasha away. That, he was not going to permit.

- Father, are you alright? You look sad... - the automaton approached, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. Sasha may have been not completely accurate with imitating emotions, but she was able to read them well. The old mechanic simply wiped a sleeve over his eyes, and mumbled:

- I ... yes, I am alright, child... Just... the man you brought home brought problems with him. I hope they won't be too much for us to handle.

The two have remained in the shed - a man who lost his daughter, and a creature which he created in his shape and form. And the agent... the agent was probably on his way too. A meaningful evening, it was... And his words made Sasha think. They made the old man think as well. Perhaps it was selfish to bring back what was lost... perhaps not.

Perhaps...

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[Thank you for the wonderful RP, Isen ^_^ I hope we rp more in the future]