Nov 30, 2010 15:05
There was little to be said of the daily business that went on. He allowed himself to be shuffled, mind embedded too deeply in things he shouldn't be dwelling on. The night was over, the shadows had vanished, and there was little more than bad memories to be left in their stead. This was logic, pure and simple, and should have been reassuring but
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leela,
kirk,
s.t.,
badd,
anise,
england,
sam winchester,
amaterasu,
niikura,
taura,
franziska,
claire bennet,
peter parker,
snow,
lunge,
ruby,
mello,
brainiac 5,
xemnas,
the flash,
minako,
stefan,
watson,
peter petrelli,
soma,
mele,
damon,
kanda,
two-face,
tomoe,
isaac,
erika,
edgar,
neku,
maya,
zack,
kratos,
l,
sechs,
scott pilgrim,
gumshoe,
aigis,
izaya,
sora,
claude,
guybrush,
elena gilbert,
dean winchester,
gant,
buzz,
grell,
guy,
kairi,
gaara,
depth charge,
kibitoshin,
ilia,
rita,
lightning,
castiel,
fai,
yue,
sasuke,
claire stanfield,
ema skye,
mccoy,
the master,
scar (tlk)
Gumshoe flipped open his notebook and flicked through pages with random notes he'd jotted down from time to time speckled across them. It'd been a while since he'd really sat down and read through all of it, but now that it was at the front of his mind, it was high time he gave it a good clean-out and organized the information in an order that others could follow. This notebook was technically the property of Landel's Institute, but it was destined to become an ultra-important document someday. Kind of like the one he used at home!
As Peter sat back in his chair, Gumshoe leaned forward, his hand resting on a blank page. "Alright then, let's start with the basics," he said with a small smile. No point in acting like he was miserable when he felt optimistic. After taking his pen out from behind his ear and writing down the man's name, it was ready, set... "First of all, how long do you think you've been here?"
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He continued to eat as he watched the man flip through the pages of his notebook, and unlike some other people, it was actually filled with a good amount of writing. This guy wasn't messing around, then. Peter realized he could have done to write more things down, but the most important things he would always remember, so it hadn't really seemed necessary to him.
The first question was as easy as could be, though he already knew that he wouldn't be able to give the man an exact answer. "It's just an estimate, but I'd say that it's been about... a little over two weeks?" It really didn't seem like that much in the grand scheme of things, but if this guy was a veteran then he'd realize that it was significant. "How about you?" He wasn't going to take notes on it, but he might as well fill his curiosity now that they were on the subject.
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But this was no time to think about that. He let out a short cough before continuing. "Er, anyway." He promptly poised the pen over the page and looked back up again. "Next question: Where are you from?"
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"I know what you mean," he said with a nod. "It's way too easy to lose track of time." Which was disconcerting all on its own, since he had no idea what day it was. His guess was somewhere toward the end of November, but even that was pure conjecture.
The next question was also a simple one, and Peter couldn't help wondering why the man wasn't just asking these things over the bulletin. Maybe he preferred the face-to-face approach. "I'm from New York City," he explained, taking a bite of his pizza as if to make his point.
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Ah, but listen to him, running off at the mouth again. He broke off his musings to focus on the task in front of him: writing down the answer Peter just gave him. NYC. "Is that right? I'm from Central LA, myself," he answered brightly, flashing a crooked smile. "What did you do there?" He'd only asked out of curiosity, but he realized after a few beats that it was something he needed to ask him anyway. The detective thought he'd feel bad about buttering the guy up, yet he was finding it easy to be interested in learning more about Peter, as if in spite of the duty he'd been assigned. It also occurred to him that 'occupation' should have come right after 'name'. Well, better late than never, he guessed.
Now it was time for the most important question of all, the one he'd been leading up to. More than once in the past, he'd made the mistake of asking very serious questions in an interrogation too early. Gumshoe knew that reactions in their current situation would vary; some wouldn't want to continue, others could be fine with it, and the rest might have a hard time answering.
"Alright, pal. After this next question, you're done. I saved the worst for last, though, so take all the time you need. Since arriving here, what are some of the worst injuries you've had?" 'If any' didn't have to be tacked on to the end of that. Anyone who'd been here for more than two weeks would have gotten a scratch or two at some point, he silently reasoned out to himself. He just hoped he hadn't pushed his luck by asking such a personal question. Due to the nervousness Gumshoe suddenly felt over the possibility, he added: "There's no need to go into specifics." He rarely doubted his expertise in getting people to talk, but he didn't have jurisdiction anymore. Put simply, there was nothing keeping Peter from walking away whenever he felt uncomfortable. So far, he'd been pretty helpful, though. Gumshoe would have to wait and see.
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It was kind of funny to hear that the man was from Los Angeles, considering what little he knew of Matt Parkman. Another detective from LA, huh? It was a weird coincidence, but probably nothing more than that. (Though there was a slight resemblance, wasn't there?) "Oh, I was a nurse," he explained, realizing that that was one thing he hadn't told the guy yet. It was way more complicated than that, of course, but it seemed that the detective just wanted the basic facts. That he could do.
Hearing that there was one question that counted as the worst would be enough to make anyone nervous, but when Gumshoe actually put it out there, it wasn't as bad as Peter had expected. Granted, his profession meant that he was used to describing injuries in a clinical way, though the fact that he had to talk about himself did make it a bit different.
There was one thing that came to the front of his mind without having to think about it, though, and that was the incident with Roland. Seeing how he didn't have to go into specifics, Peter decided to give the man the cut and dry version. "I got a chunk bitten out of my arm once," he said, running his hand over the now-healed area. "It was done by... what I guess people would call a demon." Roland hadn't been anything like the demon Peter had dealt with that night when the doors had been going crazy, but it was probably as good of a term as anything else.
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