RealmOf_TheMuse: 17.3. Scenario.
A. Roleplay Scenario - Have your character interview or interrogate another character.
[OOC: For Jess, who requested Lauren visiting Adam a gazillion years ago. With her Adam in mind, but seeing as I've never written Adam before, let's just go with not putting this on any muse.]
"CIA, hmm?" Adam asked, craning his neck to read the badge hanging on the jacket of the blonde woman standing on the opposite side of his cell window.
"Yes," Lauren confirmed, hands clasped together in front of her. The ID was fake, naturally, but that hardly mattered. "My name is Lauren Reed. You resemble someone who is of a great importance to the CIA, and I'm here to... satisfy their curiousity, if you will."
Adam simply smiled; if she had to guess, he really didn't care and was purely amused at the prospect.
"The likeness is remarkable," she muttered, pulling a small portrait from the folder she was holding, glancing intently between the picture and the man in the cell. Turning it back to Adam, she pressed it against the fiberglass of the window, giving him the best view possible given the less than ideal location.
Hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants, Adam carefully rose one eyebrow, looking to the photograph with a critical glare. There it was, crystal clear, a blond man walking on the street with a mobile phone to his ear, likely taken from a fair distance away. If Adam didn't know any better, he might have said it could have been him. Designer sunglasses, silver watch, perfectly tailored suit. Armani, perhaps, or some other attire equally as expensive. The man had respectable taste, he'd give him that.
"Julian Lazarey," Lauren spoke, reeling him back from his reverie, "or Sark, as he is generally known by."
"I can assure you, Lauren," Adam began smoothly, sighing with an air as though he'd given this speech a thousand times, "I've gone by many names, but that is not one of them. And as you can observe, I've been too preoccupied to go gallivanting around the world." Even he had to admit, though, the man looked like himself. It made him wonder if it was a spawn; a grandchild? He only had the unfortunate experience of having two sons -- that he knew of. Anything was possible after all this time.
"Yes, your time here makes that clear," Lauren agreed with him, nodding and shifting the weight of her feet, eyes skimming over the pages she already had mostly memorized. "However, a simple 'no' is not suffice. Protocol, and such. There are some questions I need to ask you."
Adam veered his gaze off to the side of his cell, scratching the back of his neck with a sigh. "Well, this is cutting into my daily reading schedule of the single book they've allowed me in 12 years... but for you I'll make an exception."
Lauren smiled, lifting her head back up to meet Adam's eyes. "I'm flattered you could make time."
& & &
"You are, as your file claims, Adam Monroe?"
"Yes."
"You have never, to your knowledge, seen this man?" Once more, Lauren held up Sark's photograph. "Likewise, anyone who directly resembles yourself?"
"I have not." Though it did appeal to the narcissistic side of himself.
Slipping the photo back among the pages in her hands, Lauren dropped the folder to her side and focused straight ahead at Adam. "Have you ever had any association with Project Helix?"
He stared at her in return, brows furrowing slightly at the question. The name wasn't familiar in the least, and he didn't feel it too important to lie about that. "I can firmly state that I've never heard of it."
That didn't surprise Lauren. All the files and recordings confirmed Adam's location within the building for the last 23 years, with no leaves. It would have required Sark to be doubled as a young child, which made it implausible; the process was not developed and perfected until years later.
& & &
Throughout the interview, Lauren frequently found her mind wandering unwillingly, noting each similarity of Adam against Sark. The accent was so familiar, albeit a little less refined, and it kept an unsettling chill on the back of her neck. That cocky smirk that often made an appearance, the icy shade of blue in his eyes, the way his bottom lip was crooked... all which led her thoughts to distracting places.
She was determined to find something that was different, cement the fact that this was not him.
&&&
"Would you object to a blood sample?"
"That depends. Are you going to collect the sample yourself?" he countered, taking a step back and holding his arm out behind him as if welcoming her into his abode. "It's been far too long since I've had a visitor."
Evidently, the two also shared a penchant for innuendo.
Lauren smirked, amused but unwilling to make it that easy for him. "23 years is an awfully long time, though for someone as mature as you are, I'd imagine this is hardly a chip off your history books."
Ah. That answered any doubt to how much information Lauren had on him; mainly his ability. A wry smirk appeared on Adam's lips. "I see Bob has made your acquaintance."
"Yes, I've read your files. Mr. Bishop was very generous."
"If you fancy traitorous bastards."
Staring down at the folder, a corner of Lauren's mouth quirked, a quick amusement she allowed herself, but still enough that Adam noticed. "Is that bitterness I sense, Mr. Monroe?"
"No, not at all. I make it a regular effort to sustain a close friendship with one of the very people who locked me in here."
Well, he had her there. Bob certainly hadn't mentioned that little tidbit throughout their conversations, nor was his direct involvement included within the files in her possession. It hardly surprised her. She pursed her lips in thought. "Then I can't possibly fault you for the low opinion... --would you excuse me one moment?" Gesturing to Adam to pause by raising her index finger, Lauren turned her attention to two bulky guards standing a few feet down from Adam's cell, watching them talk.
"I'm afraid this is classified material, boys, and you are violating about four federal laws just by standing within the same vicinity as this conversation. So would you like to explain your appearance or should I just assume you want to be arrested?"
Neither said a word, looking dumbfounded by her words, and Lauren had the inclination that each was waiting in hopes for the other to speak first. The one on the right finally did, clearing his throat unsteadily. "We've been sent to notify you of a phone call at reception."
Lauren inhaled sharply, stealing a glance down at her watch. "Can it wait?"
They exchanged looks and shook their heads in unison. "No, ma'am."
"Then that covers it for now." Turning back to Adam to find a smirk clear on his lips, she tucked some hair behind her ear idly. "I appreciate all your cooperation. When I can clear my schedule next, I'll know where to find you."
The interview hadn't turned out to be nearly as dull as Adam first expected, and he felt surprisingly irritated that it was ending already. Taking a small step forward, he pressed a palm against the window, leaning forward casually as he looked at her with a smile, a hidden flash behind his eyes. "Until then, Miss Reed."
Lauren knew that look more than she wanted to admit, not letting the twinge of nostalgia pass to her expression as she smiled in return, tone perfectly business-like. "Good day, Mr. Monroe."
As she walked away and out of view, Adam watched before crossing to his cot, sitting down with an outward sigh. He wondered when she'd return. It had been far too long since he'd had anything as close to a stimulating conversation; the rare visitors he did encounter were severely lacking. Elle acted like such a child, and while amusing (when she wasn't trying to fry his skin off), she became annoying rapidly. The nameless medical doctors were far too distant for his liking, not even willing to chat as they poked and prodded at his skin time and time again. Then there was Bob, who was... Bob. The silence was more pleasurable.
For now, he'd have to settle with Salinger.
[OOC: For Jess, who requested Lauren visiting Adam a gazillion years ago. With her Adam in mind, but seeing as I've never written Adam before, let's just go with not putting this on any muse.]
"CIA, hmm?" Adam asked, craning his neck to read the badge hanging on the jacket of the blonde woman standing on the opposite side of his cell window.
"Yes," Lauren confirmed, hands clasped together in front of her. The ID was fake, naturally, but that hardly mattered. "My name is Lauren Reed. You resemble someone who is of a great importance to the CIA, and I'm here to... satisfy their curiousity, if you will."
Adam simply smiled; if she had to guess, he really didn't care and was purely amused at the prospect.
"The likeness is remarkable," she muttered, pulling a small portrait from the folder she was holding, glancing intently between the picture and the man in the cell. Turning it back to Adam, she pressed it against the fiberglass of the window, giving him the best view possible given the less than ideal location.
Hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants, Adam carefully rose one eyebrow, looking to the photograph with a critical glare. There it was, crystal clear, a blond man walking on the street with a mobile phone to his ear, likely taken from a fair distance away. If Adam didn't know any better, he might have said it could have been him. Designer sunglasses, silver watch, perfectly tailored suit. Armani, perhaps, or some other attire equally as expensive. The man had respectable taste, he'd give him that.
"Julian Lazarey," Lauren spoke, reeling him back from his reverie, "or Sark, as he is generally known by."
"I can assure you, Lauren," Adam began smoothly, sighing with an air as though he'd given this speech a thousand times, "I've gone by many names, but that is not one of them. And as you can observe, I've been too preoccupied to go gallivanting around the world." Even he had to admit, though, the man looked like himself. It made him wonder if it was a spawn; a grandchild? He only had the unfortunate experience of having two sons -- that he knew of. Anything was possible after all this time.
"Yes, your time here makes that clear," Lauren agreed with him, nodding and shifting the weight of her feet, eyes skimming over the pages she already had mostly memorized. "However, a simple 'no' is not suffice. Protocol, and such. There are some questions I need to ask you."
Adam veered his gaze off to the side of his cell, scratching the back of his neck with a sigh. "Well, this is cutting into my daily reading schedule of the single book they've allowed me in 12 years... but for you I'll make an exception."
Lauren smiled, lifting her head back up to meet Adam's eyes. "I'm flattered you could make time."
& & &
"You are, as your file claims, Adam Monroe?"
"Yes."
"You have never, to your knowledge, seen this man?" Once more, Lauren held up Sark's photograph. "Likewise, anyone who directly resembles yourself?"
"I have not." Though it did appeal to the narcissistic side of himself.
Slipping the photo back among the pages in her hands, Lauren dropped the folder to her side and focused straight ahead at Adam. "Have you ever had any association with Project Helix?"
He stared at her in return, brows furrowing slightly at the question. The name wasn't familiar in the least, and he didn't feel it too important to lie about that. "I can firmly state that I've never heard of it."
That didn't surprise Lauren. All the files and recordings confirmed Adam's location within the building for the last 23 years, with no leaves. It would have required Sark to be doubled as a young child, which made it implausible; the process was not developed and perfected until years later.
& & &
Throughout the interview, Lauren frequently found her mind wandering unwillingly, noting each similarity of Adam against Sark. The accent was so familiar, albeit a little less refined, and it kept an unsettling chill on the back of her neck. That cocky smirk that often made an appearance, the icy shade of blue in his eyes, the way his bottom lip was crooked... all which led her thoughts to distracting places.
She was determined to find something that was different, cement the fact that this was not him.
&&&
"Would you object to a blood sample?"
"That depends. Are you going to collect the sample yourself?" he countered, taking a step back and holding his arm out behind him as if welcoming her into his abode. "It's been far too long since I've had a visitor."
Evidently, the two also shared a penchant for innuendo.
Lauren smirked, amused but unwilling to make it that easy for him. "23 years is an awfully long time, though for someone as mature as you are, I'd imagine this is hardly a chip off your history books."
Ah. That answered any doubt to how much information Lauren had on him; mainly his ability. A wry smirk appeared on Adam's lips. "I see Bob has made your acquaintance."
"Yes, I've read your files. Mr. Bishop was very generous."
"If you fancy traitorous bastards."
Staring down at the folder, a corner of Lauren's mouth quirked, a quick amusement she allowed herself, but still enough that Adam noticed. "Is that bitterness I sense, Mr. Monroe?"
"No, not at all. I make it a regular effort to sustain a close friendship with one of the very people who locked me in here."
Well, he had her there. Bob certainly hadn't mentioned that little tidbit throughout their conversations, nor was his direct involvement included within the files in her possession. It hardly surprised her. She pursed her lips in thought. "Then I can't possibly fault you for the low opinion... --would you excuse me one moment?" Gesturing to Adam to pause by raising her index finger, Lauren turned her attention to two bulky guards standing a few feet down from Adam's cell, watching them talk.
"I'm afraid this is classified material, boys, and you are violating about four federal laws just by standing within the same vicinity as this conversation. So would you like to explain your appearance or should I just assume you want to be arrested?"
Neither said a word, looking dumbfounded by her words, and Lauren had the inclination that each was waiting in hopes for the other to speak first. The one on the right finally did, clearing his throat unsteadily. "We've been sent to notify you of a phone call at reception."
Lauren inhaled sharply, stealing a glance down at her watch. "Can it wait?"
They exchanged looks and shook their heads in unison. "No, ma'am."
"Then that covers it for now." Turning back to Adam to find a smirk clear on his lips, she tucked some hair behind her ear idly. "I appreciate all your cooperation. When I can clear my schedule next, I'll know where to find you."
The interview hadn't turned out to be nearly as dull as Adam first expected, and he felt surprisingly irritated that it was ending already. Taking a small step forward, he pressed a palm against the window, leaning forward casually as he looked at her with a smile, a hidden flash behind his eyes. "Until then, Miss Reed."
Lauren knew that look more than she wanted to admit, not letting the twinge of nostalgia pass to her expression as she smiled in return, tone perfectly business-like. "Good day, Mr. Monroe."
As she walked away and out of view, Adam watched before crossing to his cot, sitting down with an outward sigh. He wondered when she'd return. It had been far too long since he'd had anything as close to a stimulating conversation; the rare visitors he did encounter were severely lacking. Elle acted like such a child, and while amusing (when she wasn't trying to fry his skin off), she became annoying rapidly. The nameless medical doctors were far too distant for his liking, not even willing to chat as they poked and prodded at his skin time and time again. Then there was Bob, who was... Bob. The silence was more pleasurable.
For now, he'd have to settle with Salinger.