I've left behind this little fact

[bestmachine.livejournal.com]

WHO: Cavil, Lassiter, and Shawn (?)
WHERE: The interrogation room at the super prison
WHEN: Midday, January 20th
WARNINGS: Not sure! Will add as needed.
SUMMARY: Cavil is interrogated about his crimes.
FORMAT: Starting with paragraph. Feel free to do whichever!

Cavil has been in the interrogation room for two hours now. Alone.

He's used to waiting. In space, there wasn't much to do but wait, and that was all right. His own hands might have been idle, but he could sit back, smile at the stars, and know with absolute confidence that his plan was coming together. That it would come together. Gears were in motion. So to speak.

Not here. Here, he doesn't even know what's going to come next. There is no guaranteed, looming execution that will ensure either his resurrection or ultimate demise. There is nothing. And with nothing, time moves much, much slower. Waiting becomes a torture.

He drums his fingers on the metal table out in front of him, acutely aware of the handcuffs binding his wrists to its underside. He's sure that he could snap the chains apart with relative ease, but he knows that there's nowhere to go, and he doesn't want to reveal the extent of his abilities just yet.

Because one way or another, he's not going to spend the rest of his life here.

Comments

[lassiface.livejournal.com]

Lassiter did the tried and true practice of letting the perp stew in their own juices for a couple hours. Lassiter watched him through the two way mirror, but he didn't really reveal much as he waited, he was a rather stoic man, it seemed. Didn't mean he wasn't wiggling a little on the inside.

Eventually he made his way into the room. He was carrying the file on this man they had compiled over the months, and was jacketless and with his sleeves rolled up, trying to give two impressions: 1) that Cavil was seemingly not worth his time if he was showing up so casually and 2) his gun in his holster.

He shut the door behind him, not saying anything, pulled out the chair opposite him, and sat down tossing the folder on the table. They had wanted Shawn here to "divine" more than Lassiter questioned, but he had wandered off and Lassiter figured he could try to get at least get a couple questions in without his distracting shenanigans. He folded his hands in front of him on the table, leaning slightly in to stare calmly at Cavil.

"So, Mister Cavil . . ." he began.

[bestmachine.livejournal.com]

"Brother Cavil," he corrected. Even in this situation, he had the ability to make his voice sound light. Nonchalant, almost. It was his aim. "That's a title in my universe for people with particularly strong ties with the gods."

He punctuated the word 'gods' with a casual, downward prod at the table. He was always gesturing. Even with the handcuffs, he was gesturing.

"Are you a religious man, Detective...?" He tilted his head just slightly, eyes narrowed, as though routing around in his memory. He wasn't. "I'm sorry. I don't believe I've caught your name."

[lassiface.livejournal.com]

He cocked his head slightly, a bit of skepticism on his face that he was already bringing up such things. "Why don't we just stick with 'Cavil,' then." He opened the file and pulled a pen from his ear to scribble notes on a page in it, though at the moment he just tapped it idly on it. "Can't say that I am so much. But it's hard for me to think of someone like you having a particularly strong tie to 'gods' given your track record of violence and murder." He gave his patented smug policeman sort of. "More like close ties to your psychotic delusions of grandeur. Does the name 'Charles Manson' mean anything to you?"

[bestmachine.livejournal.com]

Nine months ago, the answer would have been a laughing, no, I'm not from your world, but by now, Cavil knew a passing amount of Earth history. "Yes," he said, although the hesitation in his voice indicated that it was only a vague 'yes.' He furrowed his brow. "Something about triggering a racial apocalypse. Creating a cult of personality through murder. Truly, a despicable individual."

For a machine who loved irony, this sailed right over his head.

"Then again," he said, "the gods have been known to act despicably, and we are made in their image, so they say." He gave a slight smile. A private joke. "I can't speak of his 'psychotic delusions of granduer.' I can assure you, at least, that I know what I am."

[lassiface.livejournal.com]

"I find that the 'gods' only do something despicable to help validate something despicable the preacher has done," he shot back, turning a bit vehement. "We all know what you are, Cavil, it's no secret: a murderer." Now in a fit of ire, he perfunctorily spun the folder more into a better position to read it. "Such as using your powers on one Kyosuke Kiryu," he knew he completely mangled the pronunciation of that name, but he kept on without missing a beat, "an experimentation which he no doubt did not agree to." He looked up from the file with his false cheerful smile again, "Oh, which reminds me. If I even so much as hear the lightest humming from you, I will shoot you in the knee. Is that clear?"

[bestmachine.livejournal.com]

For the first time since Lassiter arrived, Cavil's expression darkened. No matter how unconcerned he sounded, no matter how much he could pretend to be on top, these people, these humans, had him under their control. And that, in Cavil's eyes, was even more maddening than the waiting. He didn't drop his gaze.

"Perfectly clear," he said.

[lassiface.livejournal.com]

He noticed that change of expression and narrowed his eyes in return, but gave a clinical smile. "Good. Now, we have a lot more to talk about than Saitou's murder, because, let's face it, you're entirely guilty of that, why deny it? Instead, let's think back to October, specifically October 24. Do you remember that day?"

[bestmachine.livejournal.com]

The way his eyes widened for the quickest moment made it obvious he wasn't expecting the question. He had no idea that the police were anywhere near pinning him to the accident. Then again, by now, he was certain that the guards had seen the long burn scar that ran down his right arm and that, he figured, was enough.

And then, suddenly, it hit him. The encryption. They recognized his encryption. This was how they found him, and this was how they would ruin him.

"Very well, in fact." He hid the anxiety easily enough, but his voice had lost some of its previous arrogance. "That was the day of the accident. One of the accidents. There are so many here."

[lassiface.livejournal.com]

If Lassiter noticed his anxiety, he did well at keeping a poker face about it. He tilted his head a little again and continued, "Yes. It was a pretty massive 'accident'. It could be considered just some horrible result of many mistakes coming together, but one of the things that really sat wrong with us is the fact, a half hour before, your old friend Kiryu received a message from Saitou. Saitou who had been ported out. It claimed that he was back, hurt and needed help and his position 'coincidentally' led straight to where the accident was to occur. However, the communiqué came from a number not of Saitou's--which isn't that unusual, but it seems if he had been ported back in, he was ported out immediately afterwords because he was never found. An unusual thing for the Porter to do, bring someone in for less than a day and then send them right back out."

He glanced back down at the file that had this information written down for easy perusal. Someone named Alastair, (what were with these names), had computer skills enough to figure this out. He refrained from using his name, however, just to be safe. "We were able to break that encryption. Definitely was not from Saitou." He gave him a leveled look. "It all points toward you."


((OOC: I had to go to work before you could reply to AIM, if anything in this is something that should not be known feel free to PM or AIM me when I'm back~))

[bestmachine.livejournal.com]

Cavil listened to Lassiter speak, recognizing before he even said it that yes, he was going to be accused, and as he listened, he began to form a plan. A persuasion. When it came time for him to speak, his voice was perfectly calm and even. He knew what to say.

"Awfully popular area, those blocks. A number of restaurants. Good places to have chats. Yes, I sent that message." He turned over his right palm, so that the burns were even more obvious, trailing up his wrist. "I was in the area when the truck exploded. I had hoped to come to an arrangement, you see, with Kyosuke Kiryu, and I knew he wouldn't come if he recognized I was calling. But he never arrived." He leaned forward onto his arms. "You can't be guilty of something you never did."

[lassiface.livejournal.com]

His eyes flicked to the burn he had idly revealed--it had been a point he was going to use to try to get a confession, but Cavil had smartly twisted a story that could more than excuse it. He wasn't entirely surprised he went that route. It still irritated him nonetheless and his voice grew a bit louder, even more leveled as if he was trying to keep his ire so in check it even affected his voice.

"You're really going to try to pull that on us? We're supposed to truly believe that you were trying to bury the hatchet with the man you killed and this touching moment was ruined by a random, destructive accident?" He leaned forward, glaring, a look saying he was taking no bull. "That's a huge coincidence to try to swallow, are you sure you want to go this route?"

[bestmachine.livejournal.com]

Cavil could guess from how Lassiter swallowed his frustration that the message was probably their only evidence. He lowered his eyes and chuckled at this, the sound of it almost jovial.

"Okay, well," he said. "Ignoring the fallacy in believing I somehow caused a number of asinine structural and procedural errors at a company I have nothing to do with, if I had caused the accident, why let myself get caught the blaze? I sent the message to Kiryu a full thirty minutes before the crash. I could have escaped easily."

He paused for effect.

"Besides," he continued, smile fading with the memory, "should you ask Kiryu, you'll find that I've tried to bury the hatchet on a number of occasions. It was only Saitou that wouldn't rest until I was in jail or dismembered or both."

[lassiface.livejournal.com]

"Perhaps you had a reason to remain there after the accident," Lassiter shot back, "maybe you wanted to see your handiwork up close and personal and were clumsy enough to be hurt as you did so." He leaned back in his chair. "I can't begin to understand why someone like you would even begin to plot something that would kill hundreds of people, so how would I know why you would choose to stick around and watch it?"

He wove his hand dismissively, leaning back in. "That's something we can chip away in the meantime as you're behind bars. Since, in the end it we have you. We have you pegged for two murders, and there's no twisting a story around them to get away from it."

He harrumphed at the mention of Saitou. He wasn't too fond of the man, but he wasn't going to let some criminal try to make him sound bad. "As far as Saitou is concerned, he did right in trying to bring you in tirelessly. If you broke the law you don't deserve a reprieve."

[shawnedium.livejournal.com]

Shawn was out getting Chinese food. He rarely got involved in interrogations. Most of the time, Shawn was in fact on the other side of the table being interrogated. He knew Lassie could do a good job on making people crack. Still, he also owed it to the police force to do some help that wasn't sitting on Lassie's desk or teaching Pete how to pick up girls.

He arrived into the room late in his usual casual lazy gear and was slurping noodles from a paper box. He waved his pinky finger at Lassie before turning all attention to old guy Cavil.

"You having fun?" He asked him casually.

[bestmachine.livejournal.com]

Wonderful, he thought. Another officer.

He leaned back, taking a moment to size Shawn up, wondering if there were a strategy at play, something he couldn't quite see. It didn't take long for him to dismiss it. Nine times out of ten, Cavil preferred to think of his opponents as idiots, and usually, in his ever humble opinion, he wasn't disappointed.

"Barrels of fun," he said, giving a thin smile before turning back to Lassiter. He made sure to keep Shawn in his vision. "Trying to bring me tirelessly, yes, I'm sure. I take it, then, that he's been quiet about our first encounter."

[lassiface.livejournal.com]

He glared at Shawn despite the secret wave, a look that said, "You are late, moron, and you had better bought me some food, too."

He cleared his throat and rustled through his folder, not recalling a report about an encounter with Cavil previously. He looked at each paper, trying to remain aloof and unconcerned--maybe he had just overlooked it. He still didn't see anything. "And what encounter would that be?" he asked.

[shawnedium.livejournal.com]

Encounter? First encounters, first encounters...well, Cavil was mainly Saitou's guy and there was no doubt that Lassie must have brought him up. Something about the police bro code and what not that even his dad followed despite being Mister Justice. But Lassie wasn't entirely sure what Saitou did to Cavil the first time around. He chewed thoughtfully on his noodles before suddenly throwing his carton into Lassie's lap and screaming in pain.

"NNNG!!!" He grunted, hands flying up to his temples. He opened his mouth and began making choking sounds like a cat coughing up a hairball. Then he draped himself across the interrogation table, rolling back and forth from Lassie to Cavil and back, all while muttering. "Black. Dark. PAINT IT BLACK."

He grabbed Lassie by the tie and wrapped it around his wrist like a cuff and therefore bringing Lassie closer.

"Won't...won't go in without a--" He let go of Lassie and stood up like the ~psychic fever~ had stopped. Suddenly Shawn launched himself at the wall and muttered redrum five times for good measure before flipping himself over and pointing at Cavil. "Youuuuuuuuu stubborn old Yoda."

[bestmachine.livejournal.com]

The officer.

Was rolling.

On the table.

First, Cavil felt mild alarm. Then, confusion. Then, aggravation, because he was talking here, and he had very important things to say about how they were letting a blood-thirsty psychopath out onto the field. Whether intentional or not, the behavior was quite obviously throwing Cavil off balance. He clenched his jaw. "What?"

Really, what else was there to say?

[lassiface.livejournal.com]

Spencer threw.

Noodles.

Into his lap.

He threw it onto the floor as Shawn did his rolling act. He glared death at him, but was sadly use to such antics that he wasn't as thrown as Cavil, even when he was yanked in. But he was still horrendously pissed off nonetheless. HE THREW NOODLES IN HIS LAP.

When he was released he rubbed his face for a moment before snapping. "What the hell does Yoda have to do with this, Spencer?"

[shawnedium.livejournal.com]

Shawn paused and cocked his brow at Lassiter. Really, he couldn't piece together his beautiful puzzle pieces? Now if Juliet were here, she'd get it, because she was a smart cookie like that. Or Gus. Gus liked to play his Magic Head role with amazing fervor.

"Officer Saitou--" Shawn began dramatically, taking a drag from an invisible cigarette and flicking his wrist at Cavil. "Apprehended Cavil months ago, but Palpatine here wouldn't go in quietly."

sorry for the delay, you guys! /o\

[bestmachine.livejournal.com]

Cavil wasn't sure if he should be more alarmed by the blatant misinformation, the fact that Shawn mistook him for Palpatine (being from a universe without Star Wars made this more of a logical leap for him), or the fact that someone like this was sent to interrogate him. Were the police a joke? Did they think he was a joke?

Again, he gave a: "What?" And then: "I'm not--"

He threw a look at Lassiter who, while still his enemy, at least appeared to have a measure of sanity. "Is there a point to this?"

[lassiface.livejournal.com]

Lassiter gave him a look back that almost reflected Cavil's. He steeled it back into a more stoic one before glancing back at Shawn, growling, "There had better be. Spit it out, Spencer."

[shawnedium.livejournal.com]

"Only resulted in someone dying, but no one really cares about that in this City, do they?" He shrugged his shoulders. It was no fun when he had to spell it out for everyone! Seriously needed Magic Head and Jules around to decipher his weirdness or at least give Lassiter lessons in understanding his madness.

[bestmachine.livejournal.com]

Cavil's glare didn't soften, exactly, but the anger did fade, if only just slightly.

"Yes, well," he said, looking from Shawn back to Lassiter. "As a matter of fact, someone did die. Me." He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "And at least half of that blame, if not all of it, rests on your fellow officer."