bakerstreet | The Interrogation Meme

The Interrogation Meme

Your crimes were unspeakable, your lies were outnumbered, 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 - You're the captive
2. Tag around to other characters. You're the interrogator.
3. Roll. Or, you know, don't.
3. Horribles.

RNG OPTIONS
1. Truth serum
You know this person isn't going to speak easy but you've got a surprise for them. This serum aught to loosen their lips a little.

2. Torture
The old fashion way might work best for this particular fellow. How about those nail screws?

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. Black mail
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 in chains on a chair doesn't mean you two can't have a little fun, right? Might be even more fun, come to think about it.

6. Leverage
Whether it's love, drugs, or something else -- it's hanging above your head. You're craving, aren't you? Or maybe that someone special is in danger if you don't spill.

7. WILDCARD
BECAUSE GIRAFFE.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Alive and well. Didn't get much chance to show you. Pity.

[ he can't help the grimaces that come as she presses into his wound, blood gushing once more and trickling down his cheek and onto his shirt collar. there's something about her, about the technique and the perfect accent and the way she's smiling down at him that tells him at the very least she wont be cruel for cruelty's sake. that in itself is a godsend; not that a slow, precisely executed bloodletting is at the top of his to do list. she takes this very seriously, perhaps more seriously than anything else in this moment. it's not the glory, showmanship or bloodlust that drive people like this, people like them. today james bond has met his match, he thinks.

his eyes flick down across her features, a bold mood considering the setting and his current position. it's like cocktail hour never ended. what else could he possibly do when she's holding on to him so tenderly? ]

I'm sure we'll have time enough to fix that.

[ His match; certainly, though Natalia would say otherwise. Better, she'd insist, not with bravado but with the calm awareness of someone who might not know who they are in their bones but certainly knows the extent of how far their grip can travel — how hard one has to strike to break a rib, how fast one has to tear before a mark bleeds out to death.

Her nail digs in for a second longer, then trails down the side of his cheek. It leaves a smear of crimson down his jaw, blood pooling underneath the curve of her thumbnail.

His eyes take her in and so Natalia smiles, the red bow of her lips curling into something that ratchets up the femme fatale quotient to eleven. (Some men break easier like this, need skating desire skating adrenaline and blood and almost certain death. Bond is— still a question mark, but the colors have started to seep in at the corners. The slow burn, Natalia thinks, is his game.) ]

Is it cliche to tell you that I think your time is running out?

Is it presumptuous for me to tell you I've heard that a hundred times over?

[ james would say that bravata is more than justified, that she's earned the right to make such a lofty claim with the flawless act she's put on coupled with the execution of her more honed skills. learned things like properly knotting a rope, connecting your fist so the pain blossoms but the bones are kept in place, how to pull and tug and unravel a man until he's a frayed husk unable to keep his secrets for himself, let alone his country.

007 is not so easily unmade, not even by a pair of pretty eyes or the lingering thought of what those red lips of hers could be doing if they'd handled this his preferred way. the smear of crimson on his face will just have to be from his own blood today. what a shame. ]

Lovely accent.

[ perhaps against such a provocateur bond's unwavering disposition may bend, but he's been in the chair before, been strapped to the anchor promised to sink him and experienced things beyond the simple torment of blades in his flesh. he's never broken before, he doesn't plan on breaking today so he might as well attempt to gain a little intel of his own in the process. ]

Edited (someday i will learn to type. today is not that day. :c) 2012-11-20 20:48 (UTC)

[ Oh, Bond. Natalia's mouth quirks again, like he's said something funny — he might as well have, the way she studies his expression. Yes, she's good; yes, she's a professional. But she's not so blinded by arrogance or skill that she can't recognize that she's slit open lesser men before, and the man tied to her chair won't be as easy as that. Her hand changes its trajectory, the edge of her nail now skirting the bottom of his lip like she wants to map the contours of his mouth — with, one suspects, a deadlier force than the average man hopes for. All the better to take a molar out by the roots, a nail of her hand catching between the space of tooth and gum.

Later, she thinks. Later. ]

You know better than to go fishing for information. [ It's lightly chastising, and if he looks up at her she still doesn't flinch, unmoving despite how close she is. The blades will come soon — it's an old, traditional way of doing things, but James had taught her everything and he'd taught her that no man can withstand pain when you dangle pleasure in front of him. ]

You'll have to try better than that.

Edited 2012-11-20 22:13 (UTC)

[ so she is capable of looking amused. it's almost like he's the only man on earth that matters with her looking down at him like that, bright eyes taking him all in despite the shadow her true countenance casts. torture's a funny thing when you get down to it; it's less slicing and dicing and tormenting, more picking at the wounds the captor leaves in the psyche of their victim. one can endure a great deal of agony if there's no weak point to be compromised. bond's convinced he has no exploitable weaknesses she could possibly know after just an evening. it's a dangerous assumption to make with her thumb stroking at him so hungrily but it's necessary in this line of work. positive visualization. contingency plans. holding your chin high and staring into the belly of the beast when all you have is riding on one inch of give in the rope at your wrist. ]

Wouldn't dream of it. More of a hunter myself.

[ james puts targets in his sights, aims, takes the shot. this isn't a hook being cast, and even if it were he wouldn't give her the benefit of that admission. bond knows cia and nsa well enough, how they operate, how they engage. not that it will matter either way once she makes use of the toys behind her, but with even breathing and a steady gaze he acknowledges silently that there's more standing here in front of him in stunning figure than meets the eye. ]

Little far from home, don't you think?

[ the worst his presumption will bring is a quicker blade. it's a gamble he's willing to take. ]

[ She looks amused again, though it's milder this time. (As if the trick was funny once but it's not funny the second time round.) ] So are you. [ It's said into the shell of his ear, her breath hot on his neck as she all but leans into him. Natalia uses her physicality like a weapon and all this, the overt sexuality and the hunger and the bright, sparkly lure of her eyes — all a misdirection because her skill-set might be large and expansive and in-depth, but it's true: she's only spent one night with 007, and maybe she knows this dance but she doesn't know him.

(When the night drags on, she'll change her approach. But that comes later.) ]

I know hunters. [ Her hands shift again to his tie, slowly pulling at it to draw it loose. ] You, Mr. Bond, are a mouse pretending to be a lion.

[ james' skin pricks with goose pimples at the feeling of her breath against his skin despite himself but he remains composed, heart still steady, pulse still even, smirk still irrevocably in place. there are, indeed, some perks to playing mouse a the hands of someone as skilled as natalia. he turns his head a little, a tilt outside the firing range of those crimson lips. maybe his breath on her isn't as desirably, maybe his skin skimming the crook below her ear isn't so alluring. maybe he is doing this for his own sake (like he does so many other things). natalia must know that even the hunted have their own feasts from time to time. his voice is a low murmur. ]

Then we do have something in common.

[ he breaks their staring contest momentarily to watch her fingers pull at the blue silk around his neck. the look he gives her when he looks back up at his lovely captor is the utmost suggestive. ]

Never has the mouse gotten this much attention from the lioness. Is that a promise to devour me, Natalia?

The Interrogation Meme

bond you can't flirt your way out of this (not like it will stop him)

oh bond you DO know what black widows do don't you~

he'd say it must be worth the risk with a finale like that

tut tut tut 007~

could she resist? are you his everest, miss romanova?

as in, is he gonna fall and meet his doom, because that sounds legit

that's usually the case when he's being interrogated by beautiful women