It was a complete friggin' mess, with violence on the streets, atrocities around every corner, and a cursed drive that kept him going, trying to stay on top of everything all at once. In more than one way he felt like Atlas, trying to bear the weight of the world upon his shoulders.. but sooner or later he was going to drop it. Lose it, whatever. Problems that could be solved with a bullet were so much easier.. in any event, he found himself walking down the hall of the state department, intent on seeking some expert advice and guidance. From what he had gathered from asking around and his own research, Dr. Elliot was the authority in New York on AIA psychology; if she could not help him piece together some of the pieces, no one could. But would she be willing to help?

He stopped just outside her office and glanced at his watch. Not too early, not to late.. it was early afternoon, so he imagined at worse he would catch her with a patient or something. As his hand reached out to the door, he composed himself as best he could, trying to at least give the appearance of being a civil authority. After two quick knocks, he opened the door.



"Excuse me Dr. Elliot, I am sorry to barge in on you like this unnoticed but I wondered if you could spare a few moments of your time for me?"

At first he only saw the top of her head as she seemed consumed by the paperwork lain out befor her. When she looked up, he suddenly wished he had taken the time to shave and clean up before coming. Of course she would be gorgeous.. had to be. Silently he cursed to himself.

"My name is Patrick Brogan, I'm a Detective for the NYPD, and I was wondering if I could talk to you about the violent AIA activity that has of late been a plague upon the city."

By rote habit more than anything else, his badge was presented for her viewing pleasure. Stopping several feet away from her desk, he looked down at her, making a conscience effort not to loom or seem threatening as she regarded him.

"Any insights you have would be much appreciated."