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Tumblr Tag Game - Teen Wolf
Mar. 11th, 2014 08:36 pm—
Allison Argent is nineteen years old, a full time student at the local University, the daughter of a well-known arms dealer, and currently seated in an interrogation room with her eyes closed as if asleep. She’s wearing soft grey leggings under a dark green skirt with a black and white shirt that looks like it’s made of silk or cashmere. Her hair is up in a ponytail and she’s wearing peach lip gloss that sparkles in the light – all considered, she doesn’t look like she belongs in an interrogation room.
“Nicholas, be careful with her – girl is young but she’s good at dodging questions. Her lawyer is on the way, but try to get as much as you can out of her.” Sargent Dzekian says, handing over the girl’s file. It’s a thin thing in comparison to other people’s – a few pages of monetary transactions between her and some groups that were flagged, s few photos of her suspected kills, a few surveillance photos, and the notes of her previous arrests. She’s never been convicted, which just means she’s more dangerous that she looks. Her file also has a note about how she might be responsible for paying cops off, so all together it makes her out to be a prettier, younger Al Capone.
The room is uncomfortably cold when he opens the door, kept at a chilling 55 degrees to make it as uncomfortable as possible for the suspects. He’s glad for his coffee, that’s for sure.
He sits opposite her, the file going onto the table beside his coffee while he pulls the chair forward. It screeches across the floor obnoxiously and when he sits down on it it’s got a small amount of cushioning on it, unlike the one Argent is currently in. She’s still got her eyes closed like she’s asleep, but no one can sleep with their back that straight. He pulls the crime scene photos of the bodies they believe are her doing out of the file and fans them out so she can clearly see them; the copies of her financial trail are put facing her above the photos, further drawing attention to the gruesome content of them. He stacks the surveillance photos taken of her off to a side, to be used at a later date to shake her up.
Argent’s eyes are still closed and her shoulders are relaxed. He takes a sip of his coffee and mentally snorts to himself - does she really believe anyone thinks she’s asleep with that straight of a back?
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