Here We See A Man Under Pressure...
As was his habit, Anatoly had claimed one of the unused tables in the rec room for the most ancient and noble purpose of chess. The chess set he'd received from Lex was a thing of beauty and he was glad to finally have his own and no longer needed to rely on the set from the game closet.
After some deliberation, he arranged the chess board to mirror one of the more famous matches of Kasparov, intending to work out just how he'd arrived at the choices he made. It was one thing to read about it, and it was another thing entirely to see it. Barring the man's actual appearance here or tapes of his matches, this was the best he could do.
Some time later, it dawned on him that the insistent noises his stomach was making meant he should tear himself away from the board long enough to fetch something to eat. As he stood, he caught sight of a film reel resting on a shelf. Out of curiosity, he moved closer to examine it. It looked harmless enough, but for the label - "Sergievsky Interview, Bangkok 1980".
He knew he should just toss the damned thing, but curiosity compelled him to get it set up on the projector and turn it on. He'd done more than a few interviews there; it didn't necessarily have to be that interview.
He was wrong. Oh, how he was wrong. He stared at the screen, frozen, while the worst interview of his career flickered on the screen. The relentless barrage of questions from the reporters, his own impassioned answers as he tried to keep his temper and failed, de Courcey's self-satisfied smirk - it was all there, larger than life. What an utter fool he'd been, to think any of them had been on his side?
"Aren't you concerned that your wife's not here?"
"I don't discuss my private life in public."
"But don't you care that she's not by your side?"
"I think I've had enough of this discussion!"
At those last words, he swore violently in Russian and turned to shut the projector off. Six, no, seven months gone, and he was as angry as if it had all happened yesterday. In this moment he hated the island and its need to bring such unsettling reminders of home. What good did it do? Hadn't he endured enough?
OOC: Item post for Anatoly. He could definitely use some distraction, so new friends and old friends and people curious about the loud Russian are all welcome! ST, LT - it's all good.
The interview portion as recounted in his canon is here for the curious and starts at about 14:21 and ends at 18:00. This is not what's actually playing on screen as this is not a canon puncture, but this is the gist of what's there.
After some deliberation, he arranged the chess board to mirror one of the more famous matches of Kasparov, intending to work out just how he'd arrived at the choices he made. It was one thing to read about it, and it was another thing entirely to see it. Barring the man's actual appearance here or tapes of his matches, this was the best he could do.
Some time later, it dawned on him that the insistent noises his stomach was making meant he should tear himself away from the board long enough to fetch something to eat. As he stood, he caught sight of a film reel resting on a shelf. Out of curiosity, he moved closer to examine it. It looked harmless enough, but for the label - "Sergievsky Interview, Bangkok 1980".
He knew he should just toss the damned thing, but curiosity compelled him to get it set up on the projector and turn it on. He'd done more than a few interviews there; it didn't necessarily have to be that interview.
He was wrong. Oh, how he was wrong. He stared at the screen, frozen, while the worst interview of his career flickered on the screen. The relentless barrage of questions from the reporters, his own impassioned answers as he tried to keep his temper and failed, de Courcey's self-satisfied smirk - it was all there, larger than life. What an utter fool he'd been, to think any of them had been on his side?
"Aren't you concerned that your wife's not here?"
"I don't discuss my private life in public."
"But don't you care that she's not by your side?"
"I think I've had enough of this discussion!"
At those last words, he swore violently in Russian and turned to shut the projector off. Six, no, seven months gone, and he was as angry as if it had all happened yesterday. In this moment he hated the island and its need to bring such unsettling reminders of home. What good did it do? Hadn't he endured enough?
OOC: Item post for Anatoly. He could definitely use some distraction, so new friends and old friends and people curious about the loud Russian are all welcome! ST, LT - it's all good.
The interview portion as recounted in his canon is here for the curious and starts at about 14:21 and ends at 18:00. This is not what's actually playing on screen as this is not a canon puncture, but this is the gist of what's there.