we just have a few questions.

[blacklisle]

The Interrogation Meme

Your crimes were unspeakable, your lies were innumerable, but finally you've been caught. They bring you in, sit you down, and chain you up. No matter what power you have, no matter how strong you are, you're not going anywhere, so get comfy.

It's going to be a long night.

Rules

1. Post with your character, canon, and any prefs. Note whether captor or captive.
2. Tag around to other characters.
3. Roll for an option.

RNG OPTIONS

1. Truth serum: You know this person isn't going to confess easily, but you've got a surprise for them. This serum ought to loosen their lips a little.
2. Torture: The old-fashioned way might work best for this particular subject. How about those thumbscrews?
3. Bargain: You've got something they really want, or really need. If they fess up, if they tell the truth of the matter, they'll get it.
4. Blackmail: So, remember that night about ten years ago...? You know something they don't want the rest of the world to know and you're going to use it.
5. Seduction: Just because they're tied to a chair doesn't mean you two can't have a little fun, right?

Comments

[narrowstreets]

[ He lets out a short, frustrated breath, but doesn’t otherwise rise to the bait. Because that’s what this is. An attempt to rile him up, to catch him off guard. He’s used to this sort of thing, luckily — it seems Grantaire’s presence on his ship is good for something after all — but it still leaves him irate. ]

Making a mess is the least of my concerns. [ Not that he wants to clean up blood, but he’ll do so if necessary. If it comes to that. ] I’m more worried about how you know Alliance codes.

[ Out of date ones, but Alliance codes nonetheless. ] Do you work for the Empire? Did they send you here?

[seenitbefore]

[ Cassian flicks him a glance of impatient scorn. ] Do I look like I work for the Empire?

[ Because it's true, he doesn't, what with the shabby coat and shaggy hair, the strongly accented Basic and the taut, close-to-the-bone look of someone who grew up hungry. He doesn't deny it, because if you deny it right off the bat you inevitably look like you're lying, and he doesn't feel like playing this game all day. ]

I could ask you the same question.

[narrowstreets]

[ That’s…a good point, actually; this man looks far too bedraggled to be an Imperial lackey. But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything, Enjolras reminds himself, nails digging into his palms. He can’t be too careful.

He almost loses his temper when he’s asked if he works for the Empire. Him, one of them? The thought is almost ludicrous, to the point that it would make the rest of his crew laugh. ] I don’t ally myself with tyrants! [ Said with a bite, voice raising. Which, no, that’s not what he wants — he’s giving too much away every time he speaks. ] I work for liberty, sir, and liberty has led me here.

no offense, E

[seenitbefore]

[ He is giving away way too much. It'd be almost cute if it wasn't so worrying. As it is, Cassian hopes to whatever small gods are in the vicinity that nobody's told this kid anything important.

Unless he's lying, of course, but it takes one to know one, and Cassian's betting not; that particular combination of raw outrage and priggish oratory is too awkward not to be true. So that's one less problem, at least. He lets a little of that relief bleed through his searching stare, glancing down as if reluctantly impressed. ]

Okay. Sorry. --But there's been a misunderstanding. [ Leans forward, insofar as the restraints allow, his dark eyes earnest. ] I came here on my own business. I've been out of contact, I had no idea we had anyone else on the ground out here.

enjolras: freedom fighter and certified social disaster

[narrowstreets]

[ Enjolras had many talents, but controlling his passion is not one of them. Everything he does is about passion! That’s kind of the whole point! He isn’t used to trying to hide his beliefs and motivation and allegiances. His dislike of the Empire was never a secret!

Really, he wishes Combeferre were here. Enjolras isn’t any good at this. It’s almost embarrassing, the way this man seems to see right through him. It leaves him feeling uncomfortably exposed, as though there are too many eyes on watching it. ]

Prove it. [ Because really, he’d be a fool to just believe this guy. ] How do I know you’re not lying?

tbf cassian's a feral cat so

[seenitbefore]

[ Cassian shuts his eyes for a moment, marshaling all his patience and the clearest, coldest logic that his impending headache will allow, and reminds himself that this is not the enemy. This is, at worst, a rich idiot with delusions of heroism; at best, an ally with more zeal than experience, who's taking rational precautions in a fucking stupid situation that neither of them is to blame for.

(Or he's the enemy. But at some point you have to start trusting the odds.)

In the quiet space at the back of his mind, he conjures two ghosts, one of them his own. He lets out his breath with a small huff, and looks up into the stranger's face with the full force of his conviction. ]

You don't.

[narrowstreets]

[ Yeah, thinks the part of Enjolras that sounds like Grantaire. That’s really reassuring. Still, he understands the sentiment; there’s no good way to prove his loyalty without giving up Rebel secrets. But they aren’t going to get anywhere like this.

Time for a change of plans. It’s not like this man has other options, tied down and weaponless. He’ll lay his cards on the table, he decides. And then, if his captive turns out to be Empire after all, he’ll — dispose of him. It wouldn’t be the first life Enjolras has taken, even if the thought of pulling the trigger, blaster set to kill, makes him feel vaguely sick. ]

Think of it this way. Right now, you’re at my mercy. I want to know your name, rank, and direct superior. If you don’t tell me, I will shoot you. If I find out you’re lying to me, I will shoot you. [ The words come out steady, without any of the wavering hesitation he feels. ] If you’re honest, I’ll let you go.

[seenitbefore]

[ He wants to laugh at that, but all that escapes him is a short exhalation, less a scoff than a sigh. His expression remains neutral, his gaze steady and serious. ] You didn't believe me before. How are you gonna tell the difference? Check it against my ID?

[ Although it occurs to him then, with sudden disquiet, that he's not even sure the kid's gone through his pockets. He shifts his weight subtly, trying to ascertain. ]

he’s TRYING SO HARD

[narrowstreets]

[ Enjolras isn’t being taken seriously, he knows that, and it irritates him. He’s young, yes, but perfectly competent! ] I have the ability to verify anything you tell me. [ By which he means he’ll send it to Courfeyrac and ask him to check with the higher-ups. If his prisoner is an Imperial spy, then he’d have a fake identification, and checking that wouldn’t to him any good.

…and he hadn’t checked for the ID. Look, he’d made sure the guy didn’t have any weapons, and snagged anything he could use against him — he’s not a complete idiot! But he hadn’t thought about identification, not when it’s so easy to fake. ]

and we appreciate him <3

[seenitbefore]

[ Cassian looks pained. Please tell him you at least took the data stick off him, Enjolras. He slumps a little, maintaining eye contact, one exasperated young man to another. Starting to give ground. ]

Come on. What would you say in my place? --Look, you want the information, take it. It's going to end up in the same place anyway, I don't care who gets the credit.

[ Which is true. To a point. ]

[narrowstreets]

[ Finally, Enjolras feels as though he’s gained some sort of ground. As though he has some sort of control in this situation. It’s relieving, but he does his best to keep that off his face, not wanting to give up any more than he already has.

One hand still on his blaster, he reaches his other into a pocket, touching the edge of the datachip (he’s not a complete fool! …mostly) he’d taken off his prisoner. It’s curious, he thinks, that the captive seems so indifferent as to where the information goes. ]

For all you know, I could be taking this — [ he pulls out his hand and gives the pocket a little pat ] — to the Empire.

[ Well, he obviously isn’t, but still. ]

[seenitbefore]

[ At least his brain has stopped buzzing, enough that he can focus on how to play this. He shrugs awkwardly. ]

Yeah, but you're not, are you?

[ Spoken like a statement, not a question, but with the least shadow of trepidation in his expression. ]

sobs. this took ages i’m dead

[narrowstreets]

[ He huffs, a little offended, despite the fact that he’d been the one to bring up the possibility of being an Imp in the first place. ] No. I’m not.

[ Okay, Cassian, he’s mostly convinced. ] Well. You understand that I can’t give this back to you. [ Another gesture at his pocket. ] And that I can’t let you go just yet. Still, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable — do you need anything? Water, food?

[ That’s as close as he’s willing to get to an apology. ]