YOU'RE GONNA TELL US WHAT WE NEED TO KNOW

INTERROGATION MEME

Either you need to know something or you do know something. Are you questioning a suspect? A spy? Your best friend? Are you tied to a chair by your captors? Sat in an interrogation room? Standing with your hand stuck in the cookie jar? Basically, this meme is to explore the idea of interrogation. Whether it's serious or not doesn't matter, here's your place to play it. Whether you're getting coordinates for an enemy base, cornering a criminal, or trying to figure out who stole your teddy bear, we're here for you! Try not to rough your quarry up too much, huh?

• Top level your character. Include any details you might think are relevant. Or don't. As always, we're not the cops.
• Reply to other people's top levels!
• If your thread is going to contain a lot of gore, consider giving a heads up in the subject line!
• Have fun!

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[ Either end: could be holding important information orrrr in some kind of Auror au doing interrogating. COME AT ME. ]

[She's biting her lip and trying not to smile too mischievously.]

Really, I have no idea what you're talking about at all.

[ Most likely the interrogated, given his knack for getting into trouble. ]

[It was hard to believe that a scarce few days ago, he was the happiest he'd ever been. He'd felt like he had a place in the world, he'd felt confident and capable and loved. Then it had all fallen apart, the foundation he'd built himself up on had turned out to be a lie, a fabrication used to further the plans of a man incapable of caring for who was crushed on his way to what he wanted.

Maybe he was still capable, maybe he still had his magical ability, but that was all he'd amounted to. He'd been a tool for Grindelwald to shape to his own designs and use for his own means and toss away when he became inconvenient. He'd thought he'd been doing good, he'd thought his work was protecting people, saving lives, but Grindelwald had twisted it to his own ends and, when he'd been caught out on a chance, he'd left Scorpius behind in the rubble, guilty by surname alone. How could anyone believe him, that he hadn't known, that he'd thought he was doing what was right?

Of course he was taken in for questioning immediately and he didn't even try to fight it. They'd taken his wand, bound his hands behind him, and dragged him to a small room to wait. It was uncomfortable to try and sit with his wrists locked together behind his back, unable to even move his fingers, but he wasn't really sure how much longer his legs would support him.

The only thing he wants now is to not further stain his family's reputation. Family is all he can trust now.]

[[ooc: either/or though if he's being interrogated it's probably by criminals or people he sees as criminals]]

[ Albus isn't sure what to think. He knows what he's heard and what's happened. He's seen Scorpius at work and he never seemed like the type. Working so closely with Belby--no, Grindelwald, they all know now. The problem in not believing Scorpius wasn't willingly a part of it is that everyone was fooled by Grindelwald. None of them knew until it was too late. The problem in actually believing it is how close they are. Were. Grindelwald had certainly abandoned him quickly, hadn't he? Right off back where he came from.

Albus Potter. The youngest Auror to move so high up the ranks since his father and uncle. Reckless and wild and at times vicious, he's well-known for being an utter disaster while in school and later coming into his own so well that he's a force to be reckoned with. Like Lily Evans some say, the few left that might've known her. But that doesn't matter. Interrogations are his forte and they always look the other way.

His job now is to interrogate Malfoy and figure out where things really stand. Veritaserum doesn't work as well if a person has time to prepare for it so that doesn't work. He has to consider what he's doing and how he's going to do it. For now, he steps carefully into the room they're keeping Malfoy in. He's smoking like he always does and he settles in a chair across from the other wizard, turning the thing backwards so he can rest his arms on the back of it. He vanishes the smoldering remnants of the cigarette as he blows the last plume of smoke toward the ceiling, a tiny dragon chasing a snake and snapping it up in its jaws. ]

So. Let's have a chat.

[ He looks about the same age as Scorpius. He seems at ease in this room though, shaggy hair and too-sharp green eyes and long limbs. With a flick of his wrist the bindings around Scorpius' hands are released. Albus stretches his legs out straight in front of him, comfortable, taking up space. He's not worried about letting him be unbound - Albus is better now wandless than most other Aurors these days are fully armed. ]

Tell me the whole thing from the beginning. He pulled you out of your old department, didn't he?

[Of course Scorpius knows who he is, though they've never had so much as a conversation. He remembers Potter being in his year in school, vaguely recalls seeing him struggle in classes, but he'd never given him more than a passing thought.

The trick with the smoke is slightly intimidating, moreso that he can do it so effortlessly than the visual image. That sort of casual display of magical ability is very reminiscent of what Ja-- Grindelwald would do. He rolls his shoulders, wincing, as his hands are released, gently rubbing at his wrists.

He's already said, many times over, that he'd comply with whatever they wanted. That he'd tell them everything. Anything to prove his innocence, that he hadn't been privy to the true nature of Jacob Belby, that he wasn't just another dark stain in his family's legacy.]

Yes. It was entirely by chance that it happened, but-- he'd seen me stop an escaping prisoner with the first shield charm I'd created. The incident should be documented, I believe. [He fusses with the fabric of his pants, avoiding those sharp eyes.] He said my potential was wasted in clerical work.

( How do you feel about younger Hanzo interrogating kid McCree? )

[Could be interrogated by other, more powerful demons because he's terrible at his job. Or w/e. I'm open.]

[ He knows that Malfoy has said he would fully comply. Albus is going to let him tell him the story and then carefully pick it apart for inconsistencies. So for now he's remaining casual, nodding slightly to what he says. He wonders after forming some kind of rapport, if that would even work with him. ] They had you down in that hellhole, right? I remember the incident you're talking about. I read up on it, I was out that day so I didn't see it. Heard about it too.

[ He sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. ] Look, this isn't... Do you smoke? [ It's a genuine offer, though he's still watching him and his reactions. He rolls his neck a little to crack it. ]

So after he saw you he started having you do work for the Auror department. Altering equipment, making improvements. This lasted a number of months. How much work did he put into the magic as well? There's his signature all over them. [ Albus pauses then, looking thoughtful--

--then frowns slightly. ] What I don't understand is why the greatest wizard of an age needed the assistance. Did he specifically want someone to pin blame on? I'd say perhaps he simply fell into the issue of a dark wizard being unable to perform spells that aren'tdark, but having seen him on official business, he seemed to manage himself fine.

[Can take either role. Can be post-capture in its season or can AU it to where it escaped afterwards and has been caught again... or maybe it captured someone else.]

[ I am absolutely on board for that! Around what time period were you thinking? I could do a teenage Deadlock!McCree, or do a slightly older early Blackwatch!McCree. Either is fine! ]

( I like the idea of Blackwatch!McCree, and honestly I just want an excuse to give yakuza!Hanzo a go. Would you like to start or should I?)

Edited 2017-02-12 10:56 (UTC)

[Either role is fine.]

[ Sounds like a plan to me! I'll go ahead and start us off :) ]

The first thing Jesse is aware of when he comes to is the pain. Probably could have just gone on being unconscious, if the pounding in his head and his aching back hadn't woken him up. Being being tackled and having your head knocked into the ground will do that to you.

His second coherent thought isn't far behind: that Reyes is going to kill him if Jesse doesn't end up dead here. Wherever 'here' is.

It had been an important mission, and one that wasn't supposed to come to blows. Recon and gathering intel, that was it. Of course getting caught in the act hadn't been planned, but they'd been prepared for it. The most important thing had been to get out without leaving behind any evidence as to who had been poking around, and why they'd been there. Blackwatch absolutely could not be implicated.

So Jesse getting caught? It went against every mission parameter they'd set.

He tries to glance around discretely, but the sudden pain in his neck has him hissing and jerking his head up involuntarily. Doesn't seem to matter though, as he's alone in the room. It's sparse, a single table against the far wall with a closed laptop on it the only furniture to speak of. There's one door, but no windows or double-sided mirrors. There's one ceiling-mounted camera in the corner pointed at him; but aside from that, no sign of being observed. Jesse frowns pointedly up at the camera's lens, then looks down at his restraints. The bindings keeping him held to the chair are fancy, by his old Deadlock standards. No frayed rope or zip ties here. They've got straps and everything- and is that real leather? Looks like real leather. Damn.

Interrogation was a slow and time-consuming art, but if done properly could be virtually painless for both parties. Hanzo watches their captive sweat a little as he recalls the times he's had to watch his father torture or play mind games to pry information from unwilling hands. While he doesn't have quite as much experience with it, his success rate is favorable, and hopefully the American isn't too hard to break.

He waits exactly two hours once Jesse comes to, allowing him to stew in the situation, and marinate in the possible danger that faces him if he chooses not to cooperate. To Hanzo's knowledge he hasn't seen anyone yet, and the human imagination will do more with nothing than with anything you can put an image to. So the small warehouse being used for the interrogation may as well be full with 50-100 armed men and no chance of escape, Jesse would not know any different.

Hanzo enters the room silently, standing up directly in front of the man to remove his hat. They'd really done a number on the cowboy, but his expression doesn't change as he takes in the sight and adjusts some hair out of Jesse's face.

"Jesse McCree. Formerly of the Deadlock Gang. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

He takes a step back to adjust the obi of the black yukata he wore. Because of his rank and position he's not limited to wearing suits, and he's partial to traditional clothing even when he isn't training.

Jesse is half convinced that they've forgotten all about him when the door finally does open. He's almost relieved that the waiting is over, even though the stranger's appearance means that the unpleasant part of this is about to start. But this stern-looking young man in traditional Japanese garb is not what Jesse had imagined when he'd considered what would come next. Not even a little, and he'd imagined a lot of things in those two hours that had passed. His pulse is hammering as the door closes behind the newcomer, though he does everything in his power to look relaxed, as if he'd chosen to be put in here and strapped down. Never let 'em see you sweat, that was his motto.

Jesse manages not to flinch when his hat gets taken, though he feels infinitely more vulnerable without it on. And the man is standing so close, his touch deceptively gentle as he moves the hair out of Jesse's eyes. He's not fooled though. He's under no illusions about what those hands will be doing to him soon enough; or at any time now, really, since the man is standing right there barely a few feet away. The feeling of vulnerability gets worse when Jesse hears his name. He'd been hoping that, somehow, they wouldn't know who he was. The more they knew about his record, the easier it would be to somehow tie him to Blackwatch. Shit. His hands tighten their grip on the chair's arms almost imperceptibly.

But true to his motto, Jesse flashes Hanzo the most disarming smile in his arsenal. “You know my name? That's real flatterin'. But you know how it is,” he drawls. “Couldn't find my way to that arcade in town. Took a couple wrong turns and ended up all kinds of turned around. Bet that happens to tourists here all the time.”

[The one being questioned.]

Edited 2017-02-12 14:48 (UTC)

Despite his circumstances Jesse appears to be calm and collected. If he didn't know any better he might have thought he was drunk with that deeply accented drawl of his. Hanzo's poker face is as unreadable as ever as the man speaks. It's only when he starts to lie that he smiles. This is going to be fun.

The first explanations are always lies. No matter how much truth there might have been to it, it was never the full truth. This however, was complete and utter crap. It's cute that he thought anyone would believe it, though, so Hanzo plays along. He leans against the arm of the chair Jesse is seated on and turns his hat over in his hands examining it closely. "Of course I know your name. You are wanted in several places but you seem to have disappeared some time ago. From our records, anyway."

"Yet here you are. In Hanamura, looking for the arcade." Hanzo places the hat on his own head and drapes an arm over Jesse's shoulder to feel if he was tense or struggling yet. "You see, you are not on the flight manifests of any airline that travels here, and you have no passport on your person. So, tell me again, what brings you here to Hanamura. This is the last time I will ask nicely."

(( Could work either way! I'm open to anything! ))

Damn, but this man paints a pretty picture. If only that smile of his wasn't sending a cold sort of dread down Jesse's spine. These were the dangerous ones: the ones with nothing to prove. They didn't need to put on airs, to broadcast how dangerous they were. If you underestimated them, it would be nobody's fault but your own if and when their wrath came down on you. Jesse had known a few men like it in his time. When Hanzo drapes his arm around Jesse's shoulder, he'll feel the tension there betraying his laid-back demeanor. He's not as well-versed in these tactics as Hanzo by a long shot. He'd caught on to the power play of him wearing Jesse's hat, but beyond that, he knows little about how much Hanzo is getting from him without words.

But he does know a few things. He'd known that no one would have ever bought his story. He also knows that this is the sort of man that doesn't pull his punches, when he sees fit to throw them. It's impossible to not dread it.

Doesn't mean he'll talk, though.

“Man on the run has to get his kicks where he can find 'em, sweetheart.” He tilts his head back (ignoring the way his neck muscles spasm in protest) and smiles warmly up at Hanzo, as if they were two men simply getting acquainted. “You know there aren't really any arcades back where I'm from? Not anymore. Real shame. Figured I'd come see how the Japanese are doing it. And my passport, well. Wouldn't you know it?” He shrugs, smile shifting into a taunting smirk. In for a penny... “I think I must've left it in my other purse today.”

[either role works]

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YOU'RE GONNA TELL US WHAT WE NEED TO KNOW

albus "the shitty son" potter. harry potter.

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tharja ( fire emblem )

Jesse McCree | Overwatch | OTA

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