Let Me Pick Your Brain (Richard, casual)

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

Richard didn't know what was prompting it, but he got the feeling that what he had said had been a source of great amusement to his interviewer. He didn't see what was so amusing - he didn't wish to discuss such a personal topic, and hadn't Crusoe said the interview wouldn't tend towards such queries?

“Of course it’s on task. Most people judge a man by his marriage. After all, it’s just a different kind of business.”

For his part, Richard had been unaware of this method of judgement but he found he could appreciate the sentiment behind it, in a way.

He nodded.

His manipulation of Anne and her emotions leading to their marriage had, at times, almost seemed like a game, at other times like another elimination to be made on his road to power (although, in truth, it had never been the latter). And that was the strange thing about it - Richard was a man consumed by his plots and schemes - Anne was something - someone - different. he hadn't been lying when he told her she had changed him.

“It’s all a part of the big picture as to who you were when you were mayor. I’m sure your wife has a much better idea of who you are than most other people. So, tell me a bit about life with Anne.”

What Crusoe had said about Anne knowing him better than anyone else was more true than the writer could have imagined - but Richard wasn't exactly about to reveal the man that Anne knew. No, he had to keep up his polite façade, continue to wear the mask of civility and decorum he donned in the public eye - he couldn't let his true self show. He was sure that Anne knew this,. and yet he didn't want Crusoe to speak to her on the matter - better for him to tell the usual lies and avoid Crusoe's inquiry spreading further than necessary.

"Very well," he replied, at last. "Anne and I met at university and were good friends - she was engaged to marry a man by name of Edward d'Anjou. It was not long after they graduated that they were married but..."

He paused, wondering how best to phrase what he had to say and why he had chosen to tell Crusoe so much about the past. He supposed the past was better than the present. Almost idyllic, looking back on it now.

"The marriage did not last. It was a year or so after it ended before Anne and I met again and the rest, as they say, is history."

It was best, he decided, not to bring up the fact that Edward had died. If Crusoe asked he would answer but best not to mention it initially, if only for the further questions concerning the man that would doubtless ensure. Richard had managed to move Crusoe away from discussing his role in the failure of the stock market - he wasn't so certain how easy it would be to avoid questions about the circumstances of d'Anjou's death.

[SUNNY CRUSOE]

Sunny was sure that he’d done what he always did – pushed too hard. He didn’t try on purpose, but his curiosity led him where it would, and who was he to deny it? After all, life was much more fun when there were no inhibitions. Now, if everyone acted the way he did, then life would be much more fun, he was sure. That or the mental hospitals would be full to the brink, but it was what it was.
Fortunately, he was in luck. It seemed like Richard was fine to continue.

"Very well. Anne and I met at university and were good friends - she was engaged to marry a man by name of Edward d'Anjou. It was not long after they graduated that they were married but...The marriage did not last. It was a year or so after it ended before Anne and I met again and the rest, as they say, is history."

“Who says that?” Sunny wondered aloud. “Everyone says, as they say. Who’s they?”

After all, someone had to have started it. It had to have started with one person and become something that everyone said because it was easier than going into unneeded details. Sunny just didn’t get it.

“So you just met again and married? How boring.”

If this had been one of his novels, Richard and Edward would have fought for her hand. It would have been an epic battle ending in the death of one of them. And seeing as how Richard had won, he probably would have been either the stronger or the more devious.
“Well, not everyone can be interesting.” He shrugged a bit, thinking that there was nothing to do for it.

He reached for a piece of paper he’d tucked under the chair earlier with questions his Publisher had done research on and wanted to have him ask after. Oh, they would move things along, but he was sure he was on the right path, regardless. He always did better with improv anyways.

“But that’s not really what I asked. Tell me about your marriage. You were her second choice. How did that affect things?”

God, his publisher couldn’t be interesting if he were paid to be. Sunny was much more interesting on his own.

“I mean, if I were a woman’s second husband, I wouldn’t be surprised if she up and left one day with all my Elvis records...without a word...while I was armpits deep in a Destroyer’s Nav system...”

Alright, so that was his marriage. Writers always went off personal experience, after all. Richard could answer how he wished, after all.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

ooc: Sunny hit the nail on the head with the 'fighting for her hand bit'. XD It had me chuckling for awhile.

“So you just met again and married? How boring.”

Richard was impassive, saying nothing in reply although the remark did not please him. After all, it wasn't as if he could tell the truth about what had happened - that he had brutally killed Edward then essentially preyed on Anne's former feelings for him and manipulated her into marriage. The truth was always more interesting than the lie - he wouldn't dispute that.

“Well, not everyone can be interesting.”

He gave a small laugh in reply to that - no, not everyone could be. He could be, but his version of 'interesting' was not only not what this man needed to hear, but undoubtedly different to anyone else's definition of the word.

He watched Crusoe as he retrieved some paper from underneath a chair - further questions, no doubt. And yet his next question did not appear to have come from the list as he continued along the same lines once more, refusing to let the subject drop as he had with the stock market.

“But that’s not really what I asked. Tell me about your marriage. You were her second choice. How did that affect things? I mean, if I were a woman’s second husband, I wouldn’t be surprised if she up and left one day with all my Elvis records...without a word...while I was armpits deep in a Destroyer’s Nav system...”

Richard didn't pay attention to the latter part of Crusoe's speech - no, he was more interested in what Crusoe seemed to be insinuating with his line of questioning. What if Richard had already given him all the information he wished to divulge? He could easily continue to lie but even he saw these lies as 'boring', but then, he couldn't very well tell the truth. The truth was clearly what Crusoe wanted - and the truth Richard had to tell was worthy of a book. But not this one. This wasn't relevant, and it was too personal a subject, truth considered, for him even to wish to fabricate lies about it.

He should have realized it was an unwise move, becoming irritable with the historian once more, but Richard couldn't help it. The man was irritating him - and, to be honest, it was surprising Richard had managed to keep his usual foul temper in check for so long.

"Look, Crusoe, what exactly are you insinuating?" he snapped. "What do you want me to tell you?"

[SUNNY CRUSOE]

Sunny never understood when people like his Gran and his Publisher insisted that he was impossible. He was very possible, after all he existed. However, when he pointed that out, they both seemed to get rather exasperated with him. So maybe this wasn’t proper human behavior, and maybe people didn’t goad their interview subjects into bursts of anger. If there was one thing living on that island taught him, it was that normal was boring. Having a mental illness just excused things, but really, Sunny preferred when things did get interesting. Like when Plantagenet decided to snap at him like he had just taken away the man’s Xanex and changed his coffee to decaf, then waited a few days before talking to him....
Note to self: switch Tuesday to decaf and monitor response.

"Look, Crusoe, what exactly are you insinuating? What do you want me to tell you?"

Sunny blinked a bit. Oh, right. He was still interviewing the guy. Well, it was bound to go more smoothly now that he knew that there was someone interesting under all those fancy clothes. Where was this snapping, glaring, dangerous looking individual half an hour ago when this whole idea took a nose dive? Ah, alas, as they say. He’d just have to work with it while he had it.

“You know exactly what I’m insinuating, so you know exactly what I'm going to write, so this is your chance to get your side of things on record.”

At least one of them knew. Sunny was a bit lost, but this was good stuff here. Any time he managed to make someone so mad they lost their temper, then it was a win in his books. And hey, if the other guy spilled the beans on something interesting, he might actually write his first non-fiction piece. It wouldn’t be as interesting as the story in his head, but it was something that would probably make his publisher happy. And if Jack was happy, there would be a definite lack of glaring the next time he managed to find himself in trouble. Maybe. Probably not. It was a gamble.

“So, why don’t you cut to the chase and tell me,” he suggested.

After all, playing this cat and mouse game was going to get boring after a time, probably for Plantagenet before Sunny, but right now it was interesting and he was hopeful that he could goad Richard into more outbursts like these. He was actually peaking the author’s interest. He was suddenly very curious about what was going on under the surface. After all, if he could break his demeanor to get mad this early into the interview, it was likely that there were skeletons in his closet that had brought out this lovely bit of temper before.

This was going to be fun.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

ooc: 'He was suddenly very curious about what was going on under the surface. After all, if he could break his demeanor to get mad this early into the interview, it was likely that there were skeletons in his closet that had brought out this lovely bit of temper before.' - This was a particularly fantastic part of a particularly fantastic post! Sorry my reply has taken so long! D:

bic:

Richard wasn't surprised when at first Crusoe made no response, other than simply blinking in surprise, clearly taken aback. It must be surprising for him to see even this small glimpse of the true Richard, the monster disguised as a man.

“You know exactly what I’m insinuating, so you know exactly what I'm going to write, so this is your chance to get your side of things on record.”

Inwardly, at least, Richard couldn't help but appreciate that proposal. Was it really worth trying to fend Crusoe off and get him to choose another topic when this one so clearly held his interest - and if he didn't get his information from Richard he'd get it elsewhere? Perhaps even from Anne herself? As much as he hated to discuss this, Richard knew he had to, economical with the truth as always. Or not. Who knew what Crusoe would be satisfied with? He was quite a character - little did Richard realize he was one himself, in the author's mind.

“So, why don’t you cut to the chase and tell me,”

Richard hesitated, but only for a few moments - he had clearly indicated his dislike of this particular topic of discussion, after all. But if he hesitated any longer it was sure to look suspicious.

"Very well," he said, at last. "I am, as you so eloquently put it, Anne's 'second choice', and it has had a great effect on our relationship and on our marriage. But this is partly for reasons beyond my control. I'm afraid I wasn't entirely truthful with you earlier, Mr. Crusoe. I said that Anne and Edward's marriage did not last, and you could interpret that in a very straightforward manner, assuming they separated, amicably or otherwise. But that would only be part of the truth. It was death that separated them. Edward d'Anjou died-" - he paused, debated momentarily whether or not to say it, then recklessly said it anyway - "-I mean to say, Edward d'Anjou was killed. In the conflict between the Yorkist and Lancastrian parties."

There. He had said it now, and there was no going back.

"Of course, such circumstances made things difficult. I have never been, will never be, able to live up to him."

[SUNNY CRUSOE]

Sunny could tell he was pushing things. Richard was clearly not happy with the topic of discussion and Sunny had no idea why he was even entertaining the conversation at this point. Had he been in Richard’s position, he would have probably led the other person off on a tangent of his choosing. And he was stubborn. He could teach Richard stubborn.

"Very well.”

Well, maybe he already had his own handle on being stubborn. Sunny was hard put not to throw his head back and groan as he got the politically correct blah blah blah from the man. Now, his publisher wanted him to get this angle, but really, it was all so boring. Who cared who loved who? Love didn’t last. Like he’d said before, she’d take all his Elvis records and run off. He didn’t really care about her leaving, but he did miss those records. And he kind of missed the vintage Hawaiian shirts she’d sold off. Then there was his watch...

“I'm afraid I wasn't entirely truthful with you earlier, Mr. Crusoe. I said that Anne and Edward's marriage did not last, and you could interpret that in a very straightforward manner, assuming they separated, amicably or otherwise. But that would only be part of the truth. It was death that separated them. Edward d'Anjou died-I mean to say, Edward d'Anjou was killed. In the conflict between the Yorkist and Lancastrian parties."

Alright, that was a bit interesting. Was he murdered? Hit by a bus? Eaten by a giant chicken? How did the Yorkists and Lancastrians do each other away?

"Of course, such circumstances made things difficult. I have never been, will never be, able to live up to Edward."

“Ah, I see,” Sunny offered, thinking that was another one of those very rehearsed answers of blah blah blah. He was getting a bit tired of this train of conversation, anyway. “You know what I always wondered? Why do families and parties insist on feuds? Yorkists, Lancastrians, Hatfields, McCoys...eye for an eye and what not.”

He straightened up a bit in his chair, looking the other man over again as his mind made a reach that made no sense but would probably get him one heck of a reaction. At this point, he was more interested in that than whatever information Lord Richard the Uptight was going to spew at him.

“So, did you kill him for that or because you liked Anne?”

And now to see if he was going to get a melt down or not. The trick would be not laughing about it all. And he would, given enough time to think.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

Although Richard had been very focussed on what he was saying, as the majority of what he had said was not the usual lies he told to the press, he had been greatly aware of the effect his words were having on Crusoe. The expression on the man's face as he began clearly indicated he was tired of this strand of conversation - if that was the case, why did he insist on continuing it? Then again, it could be Richard's answer that was boring him. So much the better - perhaps, at last, he would change the subject.

He seemed interested as Richard mentioned the method of Edward's death - and why would he not be? But the way Richard seemed to hide this amidst the standard statements he made afterwards meant Crusoe's disinterested demanour soon returned, as evidenced by his initial reply.

“Ah, I see. You know what I always wondered? Why do families and parties insist on feuds? Yorkists, Lancastrians, Hatfields, McCoys...eye for an eye and what not.”

It sounded to Richard as though he didn't actually see at all, but he wasn't about to question him - not when he had already let himself slip a little, with his irritation about this particular line of questioning. At least the younger man's response sounded as though he was summarizing - the topic dealt with. Finished. Done.

And it seemed that way. For a moment. There was a pause as Crusoe readjusted himself in his chair; Richard simply continued to watch him, in expectation of a new question, a change of topic.

But instead, Crusoe asked, casual as anything:

“So, did you kill him for that or because you liked Anne?”

For once in his life, Richard was lost for words. He did not know how to respond. What was he supposed to say when Crusoe had so unwittingly guessed the truth - not asking him to deny it, either, but questioning his reasoning behind the murder? This must be Crusoe's idea of a joke - it was indeed laughable that he should have so easily guessed the truth. But what if it wasn't? What if...?

He endeavoured to keep his expression as neutral as possible, fearing a too-vehement denial would indicate he had something to hide. He could not help the flush of surprise and anger, however, and the latter especially was laced in every word he spoke and he replied, one eyebrow raised, the slightest of smirks on his face to indicate he presumed Crusoe's words to have been in jest;

"I do hope that was a joke, Crusoe."

[SUNNY CRUSOE]

Sunny was very quickly losing his patience with the conversation. It wasn’t uncommon. He lost interest in everything after a time. His attention span was nothing short of embarrassing. There were probably reasons for it, but he’d never thought long on it. After all, if he were to do that, it would probably make him more depressed than ever. He would readily blame his medication, though. He didn’t rightly believe it, though. The medication may have made him feel like hell, and it may have killed his imagination, but he knew for a fact that it did focus his attention, even if he couldn’t do anything with it.

Now that his medication was clearly wearing off, he was definitely feeling the lack of focus, and along with it, the want to do what he wanted. And even though this Richard guy was interesting, he wasn’t quite as interesting as doing something interesting. He’d rather be laying in traffic again, or maybe even pretending he didn’t speak English for an afternoon – one of Tuesday’s favorite games. He was tempted to start blabbing at Plantagenet in Spanish to see if that would flap him, but he was willing to wait and see what he had to say to his out of the blue accusation.

After all, the first rule of getting a reaction out of someone was to accuse them of something pretty nasty. He’d found that out with the police in this town. They were pretty uppity when you did that. Richard seemed to go mute at the idea, his entire body shocked. Oh, this was a great thing to ask, he could feel it.

"I do hope that was a joke, Crusoe."

“I’ve never been any good at picking out what’s supposed to be humorous and what’s not,” he offered with a shrug. “People have strange ideas about what’s funny, after all.”

It was true, after all. He’d been left on an abandoned island and he was pretty sure that was a joke gone wrong for the first six months or so. By the end of his first year, he was pretty sure no one was laughing.

“But, seeing as how you seem offended, let’s go with that.”

Offended. Yeah, that was a good word for it. More like he was having a massive coronary. Oh, he was an interesting character. Sunny couldn’t wait to write him. Only his character in the book was going to be much more...Scottish. Yeah, Scottish accents were more maniacal.

“Still, it would make for a better story if it weren’t a joke.”

And if he was lucky, he only thought that instead of saying it. He really didn’t want to give away the punch line on this one.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

ooc: 'Only his character in the book was going to be much more...Scottish. Yeah, Scottish accents were more maniacal.' That made me laugh out loud! XD Just so you know. Great stuff here, m'dear, as ever!

bic:

Although Richard had smirked slightly as he made his reply and attempted to remain calm and not lose himself in his own defence, whether in fear or rage, he was well aware that he had betrayed himself in his demeanour. The way he had stiffened as the accusation was levied at him, frozen with a sense of trepidation... He didn't appreciate this blatant betrayal of his emotions when he was usually so guarded - but he hadn't expected the question and it had thrown him.

Even as he smirked and seemed to keep his cool, passing Crusoe's question off as joke, inside the shock of the question did not recede. He could feel his heart beating faster than normal, fearful. How had Crusoe come to that conclusion - to the truth? It had to be some joke, what other explanation was there?

“I’ve never been any good at picking out what’s supposed to be humorous and what’s not. People have strange ideas about what’s funny, after all.”

Richard might have smiled at this sentiment had he not been so on edge. He was a prime example when it came to finding things amusing that others did not. The murder of Edward d'Anjou, for example - the manner of his death had caused him no end of amusement. But best to try and steer clear of that topic now.

“But, seeing as how you seem offended, let’s go with that.”

Richard's small smile had vanished, now, and he was frowning once more - offended, yes. He certainly was offended - and worse. But he wasn't about to let Crusoe know the true extent of his feelings. Unsure how best to reply, now suddenly fearful of where the conversation might be directed next, he said nothing. Then,

“Still, it would make for a better story if it weren’t a joke.”

It wasn't an unusual comment - but then, it was said in an unusual situation and so became such. A story about a man being murdered for the love of a beautiful woman was far more exciting than said man simply dying. But 'story' could mean something else in this context. Sunny was a writer, it was true. A historian, Richard had been told, and he had assumed he had been told the truth. Yet Crusoe didn't seem to be interested in the political history he purported to be writing at all - rather than ask for clarification of names or dates, he wanted to know Richard's feelings on the matter, his emotions - the reasons he went to war, ascended to his brother's position, married Anne. These were not political questions - they were personal. Almost as if Crusoe wanted to get inside his head, see what made him tick. That was one way to go about writing a historical volume, and yet...

"It would make for a better story?" he repeated. "What exactly do you mean by 'a better story'? I was under the impression you were writing about facts, Mr. Crusoe, not fiction."

[SUNNY CRUSOE]

ooc: I thought you’d get a kick out of that, haha. Sunny thinks Sean Connery should have had more villain roles.

bic:

Fiddling with his tie, Sunny wondered how he’d gotten roped into dressing up. He wasn’t the kind to dress up unless he had some speaking engagement and a good bit of Xanex to get through it. Well, he’d been doped up to the nines in the morning, so he might even be wearing socks. He wiggled his toes a little. Yep, socks. Still, the tie was a good little distraction. Seeing as how Richard wasn’t happy, he needed something to distract him. This guy wasn’t easy to get a rise out of, even though he was sure that he had offended the man. He was no fun to offend. Heck, he’d practically called the man a murderer and there was no thunderous outrage that led to a black eye. He didn’t really like getting his eyes blackened, but it happened so often that he was used to it. Ah well. He’d just have to surprise everyone.

"It would make for a better story?"

Sunny refrained from sighing. “Just that. Seriously, you have the guy and the girl, then in walks the other guy, and he goes ‘hey, I want her. I will just have to kill you to get her’ and then he does and she’s none the wiser.”

Really, had he ever read a book or gone to see a film? Entertainment clearly wasn’t his thing.

“What exactly do you mean by 'a better story'? I was under the impression you were writing about facts, Mr. Crusoe, not fiction."

“When did I ever say that?” Sunny asked, knowing he had never said such a thing.

...His publisher, on the other hand was a downright sneaky devil in Armani. He would have said anything to get these questions answered. He had never written a book, either. Probably only read two – Getting Rich for Idiots, and Othello. He sure had the backstabbing, ruthless part down. And Sunny assumed he had money...

“Would you like to hear about what I’m writing?” Sunny asked, perking up a bit. He did love running his ideas past people who had no power over his process. And this Richard guy had been a good sport about everything, so he was sure he was entitled to it. If he wasn’t, then no harm done. That was the beauty of fiction. It changed until the story was done. “You probably wouldn’t like it, but I’m sure it’ll get me another nice check to put in the bank.”

Then his financial advisors would sit on it and his attorney would doll it out to him piece by piece as an allowance. That was the only thing he hated about mental illness – you couldn’t be trusted with your own affairs. He wasn’t even allowed to have a car in case he mixed medications, and like cabs were so safe. They didn’t even have seatbelts... He should start a petition on that. Or he’d make Tuesday do it.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

ooc: 'Really, had he ever read a book or gone to see a film? Entertainment clearly wasn’t his thing.' Hahahahaha! Richard makes his own entertainment.

bic:

“Just that. Seriously, you have the guy and the girl, then in walks the other guy, and he goes ‘hey, I want her. I will just have to kill you to get her’ and then he does and she’s none the wiser.”

Richard was somewhat irritated by the misinterpretation of his repetition of the other man's words - he knew very well what sort of story it would make, and how it would be a great deal more entertaining. And, in truth, it had been. It had given him great pleasure to kill the man. But he wasn't about to point that out.

Crusoe's question, however, led his irritation to give way to momentary confusion. It was true, now Richard thought about it - Crusoe had never said any such thing, he had never exactly outlined what he was writing. But Catesby relayed to him what the publisher had said - Crusoe was writing a book about politics, a non-fiction, historical piece - and Richard had had no reason to suspect otherwise. But now, with the way these questions tended, and Crusoe's reaction to him...he really should have suspected something long before this. His irritation returned afresh, now directed towards himself for having been so idiotic as not to ascertain just what he had signed himself up for before speaking so freely. For what purpose had he revealed what he had, been insulted and practically accused of murder?

“Would you like to hear about what I’m writing? You probably wouldn’t like it, but I’m sure it’ll get me another nice check to put in the bank.”

Richard wanted to say something cutting, something along the lines of yes, I would like to know exactly just what it is I've unknowningly signed myself up for, accuse Crusoe of lying to him (even though he technically hadn't) - but instead he said nothing. He simply nodded, stiffly.