Spin The News

Participants:

jane2_icon.gif russo_icon.gif

Scene Title Spin the News
Synopsis Also when in trouble, deny, deny, deny
Date January 24, 2011

Roosevelt IslandSuresh Centre


Considering her last visit to this very building, and considering it was for a strikingly similar reason, Jane is just a little grumpy as she makes her way into the Center. Badge flashing and signing in and all the hoops jumped through, she ends up knocking on the door that holds back Brad Russo from the world. And what a shame, too.

Of course, being who she is, she doesn't actually wait for and answer, she just gives the knock as a warning before she opens the door to let herself in. "Mister Russo?" Her badge is out in the open, marking her as one of those fine friends from the DoEA. "My name's Agent Pak. Or Jane, if you're feeling informal. Mine if we have a chat?"

Facing the back wall rather than the door itself, the knock calls Brad to attention despite himself. There's an obvious tension in his jaw, neck, and shoulders when the door opens, but he doesn't dare release it, not easily. His breath is ragged in his throat when he twists around to face the agent, his arms cross tightly over his chest and his head tilts downward some to meet the agent's gaze.

"What would you prefer, Agent Pak?" His eyebrows arch upwards, fatigue already having set in long before he'd even reached Roosevelt Island. In a lot of ways, he seems older than thirty-two, particularly now, in this space. He issues her a hint of a smile, a touch of good humour even in displeasing circumstances while he shakes his head. "You can call me Brad if you want." There's a small pause as he shifts his weight between his feet, a silent repositioning to allow for conversation. "Interesting turn of phrase, agent." She's issued a tense lopsided smile, boyish, tired, resigned, perhaps. In an equally gruff, and marginally fatigued tone, his eyebrows arch again, "I imagine you have questions." Everyone has question. His lips twitch, out of the smile and towards something more sardonic, "I have questions," his tongue rolls over his lips, "I'll do my best to answer yours— "

"Oh, I answer to anything. Jane. Pak. Hey You," Jane says, shutting the door behind her. She does come over to offer a hand out toward him, for a shake, "Nice to meet you, Brad. And really, I'm here to get your side of the story, really. About your registry. I'm actually working a different case, but… related. I'd appreciate your story, though. Call me a student of human nature. As for your questions, if I have the answers, I'll be more than happy to. Or find them out."

"I'm pretty sure most people respond to 'Hey You'," Brad accepts the extended hand into a firm handshake. "Myself included," there's another flicker of a smile, not quite genuine, but well-mannered, considerate, even. "My side of the story?" there's a slight chuckle as his head shakes. "Has it come to that? Sides? Sorry. Forgive me, I'm— " he exhales a breath in place of a chuckle, "—it's been a rough day or so." He sniffs in lieu of a sigh. "All I know is when we were all called to register, and by all, I mean everyone, I didn't hesitate. Frankly, I hadn't thought anything of it. I went, I was blood tested, I was negative." His hands press against his face, hiding beneath the fan of fingers.

"It was negative, huh? That's a stroke of terrible luck there, isn't it? But I understand, being in the public eye as you are, trying to dodge it wouldn't have ended very well, hmm?" And really, this particular agent does seem to be understanding. Or she really wants to be. "People have been cropping up lately, with their registries all messed up for one reason or another. I'm trying to figure out why. You know? If someone was putting faulty tests out there, or if some of the cops are trying to protest in their own way, or if people really are just finding out ways to fool the system. So, I'd like you to do me the favor of giving your registration some thought. If you saw or heard anything strange… or if you get a chance to look at a proper test, if you notice any glaring differences… anything would help, really." Jane does pull out a card with her name and contact information on it, "I'll be around, but if you want to talk… I'm not SLC-Expressive myself, but I've worked closely with a lot of people who were, over the years."

"Honestly.. " Brad's hand presses firmly to his forehead as he lets the weight of the situation wash over him. He actually sighs now, nearly pained as his eyes narrow, "I wish I'd known this was coming. It's a career killer. I'll be lucky if, when all is said and done, I still have one to speak of." The tone edges on bitter, but the bitterness is internal rather than external. His hands rub his blue-grey eyes as his head shakes slightly. "I don't know how I got a false negative, but I did. And I wish, I wish I could remember more.. I…" His palm presses tighter to his forehead. "It seemed.. normal." There's another twitch of his lips while he considers the event. "It was unextraordinary." There's a small pause as he peeks up at Jane, "If there's false negatives, are there also false positives?"

"Aww, now, don't look at it that way. A good PR person can spin anything into good news. And these days? I'm pretty sure people are going to get burnt out on the shock of someone being unexpectedly Evolved. It'll be old news." Jane pulls over a chair for herself, plopping herself down. "Well. In theory, there's not supposed to be false anything. That's why there's four test pads with each kit, so no mistakes get made. But there is such thing as a faulty kit. And if people are changing things, thinking it's a good way to protest, or thinking they'll help a friend out or whatever, then unknowns start entering the arena. I don't like unknowns, never have. For exactly this reason," she adds with a little wave of her hand. "Out of curiosity… you haven't seen any… red lighting looking effects lately, have you?"

"Well, it's good to know I have company in it," Brad mutters sullenly as he rests he slides into a chair of his own. He manages another tick of a smile, as his hand rubs against his forehead again. "If it's over, I guess I can say we had a good run. Good viewership. Good people. Good staff." There's something humourless in the chuckle he emits at the end of his list, empty and hollow rather than jovial and good-natured. "Red lighting? Like just— in my vision." He pauses, "Are you implying I'm hallucinating in some way, Jane? I ask because.. well.. I could've seriously hurt someone by accident and then to be hallucinating on top of that— " he actually cringes.

"No no, I'm not implying that. Just looking for link between cases. There's been some assault cases that have… exposed a couple false registrations, as they're currently being called. The suspect, I'm curious about him. No big deal, I didn't mean to alarm you." Jane folds her arms a bit, looking over at Brad for a moment. "I hope you're not just giving up on the show, though. It'd be a shame. I watch that show, you know, I think it's a good thing to have around."

There's actually a sigh of relief as Brad nods. "Good," he manages a small smile. "Sorry, it's just.. unsettling. I mean, to think you're one thing just to be another and something that wasn't at all what you were expecting— " he shrugs and frowns. "I guess that's just the way it goes." His cheeks flush slightly at the comment, "You watch the show? I'm glad you appreciate it— we spent a long time thinking on it before we first pulled it all together. And I don't know what will happen." There's a pause as he leans back in the chair. "Maybe I'll keep it going."

"Life shakes us up from time to time, but with some help I think you'll learn to settle into it. I hear they're good at help here. There's a man… Harve Brennan, he's a doctor here. Good guy, you should talk to him some." Jane shifts to stand up, leaving her card there on her seat. "I do watch. And when you get past this, I'll be bothering you to come be a guest and I am particularly charming on camera, you can ask anyone." And the agent gives him a wink before she heads for the door.


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