Title: A Deal with a Doctor

PCs: Pharma, Overclock

Location: Over a radio

Date: 11 March 2015

Summary: Spectrum comes back to Pharma and offers to sell herself for more upgrades, on one condition...

It's only a few days since "Bloodhound" was repaired that a call arrives over the frequency she'd been given, at what is an ungodly hour in Polyhex. Either the femme finally found her way out of the Dead End or she keeps nocturnal hours. This is truly a good age to have voicemail.

Pharma isn't actually recharging even at such an off hour. He has a lot of work to do, as always. But he does answer Spectrum's call as her signal pops up, activating the communicube in his office. "Bloodhound, I hope this cycle finds you well." he says pleasantly.

"Hello Pharma," Bloodhound greets back in a neutral tone. Her face is silhouetted by scrap and there's a severe absence of light to give her image depth or color. Not much shows beyond the glow of her optics and what's illuminated by the screen of her own radio.

"Do you have time to talk about my repairs?"

"Sure thing." Pharma says with a smile, not at all fazed by her rather engimatic appearance on the screen. "What did you want to ask?"

"I would like to earn some upgrades," the empty replies point blank. "Military ones, like I used to have. Is that something you could do for me?"

"Hmm." Pharma looks pensive, rubbing his chin a moment. "Perhaps, though I'm afraid they will have to come at a price. You understand, right? Originally you had only asked for a civilian frame."

"Of course, I said I'd earn them," Bloodhound affirms. "Are you hiring or buying?"

"Good." Pharma smiles again. "I assumed hiring, you didn't seem the type to have a lot of shanix at your disposal..." he pauses. "Unless you are?"

"I meant buying me," the femme corrects. She leaves her shanix, or lack thereof, implied.

"Oh." Pharma looks surprised at this. "Well do you have a preference yourself?"

"Legally I think that choice is up to you. I am disposable and an empty," Bloodhound notes plainly. "What I want is probably worth more than I am."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that so fast." Pharma replies. "I don't know you very well yet, so I can hardly say what you are or aren't worth. Hm." he looks thoughtful again. "Do you have any sort of...code? As in, boundaries you won't cross, or things that unsettle you?"

The rebuilt empty smiles darkly at the question. "I've killed to survive. I'd kill to thrive."

"I do have some morals, but they're nothing a saintly doctor would ruffle..."

Pharma chuckles, waving a dismissive hand. "Well, let's hear them." Bloodhound may not know it, but it is very possible, in fact, likely, that the 'saintly' doctor's morals pale in comparison to hers. If he even -has- any.

"Sorry I don't keep them written down on my arm," Bloodhound declines apologetically. Her smile dims back towards neutral as she regards the doctor with a measured gaze. "I did offer to sell myself to you, I'm willing to do a lot of things. But before we strike any deals... I'd like to have a good reason to trust you."

Pharma laughs a little. "What, were you not happy with the upgrades I just gave you? And you didn't find any explosives, poisons, or other dangerous items in them?" Then he shakes his head. "No, of course Bloodhound, it's a reasonable enough request. Is there some way you can think of for me to prove it to you?"

"Oh I love them," the femme responds with a touch of bliss. The new car feel hasn't entirely worn off. "But I also wouldn't trust my life to your words - no offense."

Bloodhound's free hand comes into frame and taps the side of her helmet. "Thankfully we have an easy way for me to be sure of your intentions, and for you to learn about my morals."

"Oh and how is that?" Pharma asks, looking curious but still not creeped out at all. Is it even possible to creep him out?

"I might need you to lend me a cable but I'm sure you're familiar with it, doctor," Bloodhound responds with a bit of an amused grin. "Although I can understand if 'facing a disposable is beneath you. If it helps, I used to be an intellectual."

"Heh." Pharma shrugs. "So are you saying you want to interface before you strike up a deal with me?"

"Unless you have another way," the femme offers.

Pharma considers this. Is it worth the risk? It's possible she'll learn something that he didn't want her to know, but at the same time perhaps she won't. And if he does agree, it'll give her more reason to trust him. That is if she doesn't dive too deep. Finally he shrugs. "I suppose I don't. But remember, it's -your- upgrades."

As the doctor relents, Bloodhound smiles again. "I'd give a lot to be rebuilt."

"If you don't mind the scenery, I know a few quiet places in the Dead End where we can link up. That might be better than you spiriting me somewhere fancy for the occasion."

"The Dead End?" Pharma manages to be surprised yet not that surprised at the same time. "Hardly seems to be a pleasant option, but I suppose you know the area best."

"Exactly, and it's the the least risk of an audience," Bloodhound explains. "No one would believe an empty and if we absolutely must, not much energon is offered when we die."

"Should I get some wine for us to share first?" She asks teasingly.

Pharma laughs. "If you'd like. Well, send the coordinates my way, and I'll make my way down there when I can."

"I'll radio them once I find us a nice spot," Bloodhound answers. "Try to show up in the next couple cycles if you can."

Pharma nods and disconnects the communicube. He finishes up a few of the things he was working on, and checks to make sure none of his patients are in need of anything that the techs can't take care of before he takes off for the Dead End.

Meanwhile in Polyhex, Bloodhound lowers her arm and lets her optics unfocus on the stars above and the waning Luna 2. Her systems begin to power down one by one as she enters the half-resting state in which she spent much of the past years. After waiting enough time to imply travel and thought, she broadcasts her coordinates.

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