On your tablet, you will see a young man sitting at a desk holding a pad and a pen. He smiles, closed-lipped.
"Hi there, uh.. my name is Spencer Reid and I'm doing research on arrivals and departures to and from Taxon. I was wondering if you could answer a few routine questions for me?"
Despite doing this several times so far for different people, it still hasn't completely dawned on him just how much explaining his questioning usually requires, or that people usually have no clue where they are.
Re: [visual]midwestenDecember 2 2010, 23:12:32 UTC
If this was Management, Michael was really starting to wonder what they were driving at. "Sure?" he said, scrutinizing Spencer Reid too to see if he recognized him. He didn't.
Re: [visual]midwestenDecember 2 2010, 23:26:39 UTC
"Michael Westen," said Michael, peering at the tablet and turning it this way and that. Was there an off button? Maybe something that turned the webcam off? Probably not the most diplomatic time to use it, right now.
Experimentally Michael tapped the icon labeled Visual and was treated to the vanishing of his own hologram from other people's tablets, of which he was at the moment completely unaware. "2010," he answered. "Yourself?"
Re: [Visual]midwestenDecember 4 2010, 07:24:52 UTC
"Oh. Did I?" Good to know. He toggled it back on, away from 'Holo' and onto 'Visual' -- the whole notion of 'Holo' bothered him, though he'd no idea what it was aside from what sci-fi movies had to say about the matter. "Sorry about that. Spy. CIA operative. Afraid I don't have my resume with me, though."
"Oh. Most spies don't admit to being spies... that kind of defeats the purpose of their career, no?
Spencer had decided a while ago that if he didn't try to take people at their word during this process, then it was going to be very long and tedious indeed. He jotted this down, and while he usually refrained from discussing himself, he couldn't help but mention this.
Re: [Visual]midwestenDecember 4 2010, 22:35:31 UTC
"That's funny," said Michael, who was now busy pressing the 'Map' icon and blinking at the map that sprung up subsequently. "We're normally so chatty." The fact he was talking to an FBI man was surprising, though not overly so; it wasn't looking like an FBI facility, but they got their fingers everywhere.
They didn't get along, the Bureau and the Agency -- the supercilious kid in front of him no exception -- but better an associate of the Agency than a burned spy with no record, no prospects and no name but a blackened one. He'd stick with that exaggeration for now. "Agent Reid? Or an analyst?" Making conversation was distracting and bought him time to look at the map. "Nice to see another friend of Uncle Sam. How'd you wind up here?"
Spencer reached into his coat and pulled out his credentials, which he held open in front of the tablet. Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid - Behavioral Analysis Unit. He had to wonder why a spy would admit to being such. Something was amiss.
"I was going over a case with my team one moment and then here the next. That's the next question on my list, actually. What were you doing before you got transported here?"
Re: [Visual]midwestenDecember 5 2010, 07:31:54 UTC
Michael ran his hand through his hair and made a new study of the pencil-necked FBI agent in front of him with a brief flick of his eyes: no point in looking too intent. Behavioral Analysis was an oddly specific field. "Trying to answer a phone in the kitchen," he said. "Sorry, do you prefer Agent or Doctor? It's not too often you see a Ph.D in the Bureau, if you don't mind me saying," because an MD wouldn't be in a Behavioral Analysis Unit, by his money, "where did you do your degree?"
Spencer tried to let go of the fact that it seemed more like the interrogation had turned back on him, by chocking it up to Westen being frightened in a new place and trying to keep his wits about him.
"Doctor, usually. I did my PhD work at CalTech."
Actually he'd done everything at CalTech, starting at age 12 and finishing at 21 with three PhDs.
Re: [Visual]midwestenDecember 6 2010, 05:55:01 UTC
"Sorry then, Doctor," said Michael cheerily, wondering what a CalTech PhD was doing wasted on the FBI. Admittedly, there were smart FBI agents and stupid doctorates from California Technical, but they were like Miami PD who weren't taking bribes -- technically possible, but Michael was probably going to be betting his life's fortune on a different racehorse.
Anyway, it didn't look like pumping Dr. Agent Spencer Reid for information about himself was going to get him much further, so he left that alone for the moment. "You got much of an FBI presence here? All of you prisoners?"
"Hi there, uh.. my name is Spencer Reid and I'm doing research on arrivals and departures to and from Taxon. I was wondering if you could answer a few routine questions for me?"
Despite doing this several times so far for different people, it still hasn't completely dawned on him just how much explaining his questioning usually requires, or that people usually have no clue where they are.
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"Name?"
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"Where and when are you from?"
He glanced up, noticing that Westen was fiddling with the tablet and squinted.
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"This place tends to draw people from different times and places and spheres... I assume you're from Earth? What year was it when you left?"
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"Uh, yes. Occupation?"
He squinted at the screen as Westen's picture disappeared.
"Uh... you shut the visual off..."
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"Oh. Most spies don't admit to being spies... that kind of defeats the purpose of their career, no?
Spencer had decided a while ago that if he didn't try to take people at their word during this process, then it was going to be very long and tedious indeed. He jotted this down, and while he usually refrained from discussing himself, he couldn't help but mention this.
"I'm FBI."
Reply
They didn't get along, the Bureau and the Agency -- the supercilious kid in front of him no exception -- but better an associate of the Agency than a burned spy with no record, no prospects and no name but a blackened one. He'd stick with that exaggeration for now. "Agent Reid? Or an analyst?" Making conversation was distracting and bought him time to look at the map. "Nice to see another friend of Uncle Sam. How'd you wind up here?"
Reply
Spencer reached into his coat and pulled out his credentials, which he held open in front of the tablet. Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid - Behavioral Analysis Unit. He had to wonder why a spy would admit to being such. Something was amiss.
"I was going over a case with my team one moment and then here the next. That's the next question on my list, actually. What were you doing before you got transported here?"
Reply
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"Doctor, usually. I did my PhD work at CalTech."
Actually he'd done everything at CalTech, starting at age 12 and finishing at 21 with three PhDs.
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Anyway, it didn't look like pumping Dr. Agent Spencer Reid for information about himself was going to get him much further, so he left that alone for the moment. "You got much of an FBI presence here? All of you prisoners?"
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