trans_9 | An Unexploded Shell Inside a Cell [Open]

She thought her life would be different by now, but she's a prisoner again. Voluntary, she guesses, which makes it a little bit different than the first time. At least she can blink on her own this time. Not that she's using her body to do much good.

Ironically, she almost always looked better when she was a more total prisoner. Without her makeup and hair clips and changes of clothes to arrange herself into some approximation of health, without even a mirror to confirm her suspicions, she looks a wreck. Dark circles line her reddened eyes; her hair is unbrushed and falls in tangled clumps over her face; chapped, bloodied lips and fingernails bitten down to the flesh speak to her uneasy transition back into captivity.

Eva's given up all attempts to look 'okay'. She ripped a man's face open with her bare fingers. She's been a long road away from 'okay' for a while now, but she spent too long mistaking her anger and stubbornness for strength and resilience to recognize it. She's wised up now.

She really wants a drink right now. Instead she has some books - selected poems by Pablo Neruda and an anthology of poetry by women poets in the Andes - and a pillow and blanket. She's curled up on the cot with the former book in her hand, but drifting in and out of sleep. Her breath comes lazy and heavy as she alternately reads, dreams, and watches the door to the brig with heavy-lidded eyes, looking for nothing.

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"Oh, right, you were the one with the detective agency, weren't you?" She's content to press him for questions, rather than have him ask her why she's here.

"That'd be me, miss." And he'll be content to answer them, for the most part.

"Any fascinating mysteries so far? I heard something about a missing parrot, but I was away while that was happening. I assume it was Zouichi's?"

Oh, that bird. That bird.

Shoutarou sighs, but grins a little. Admittedly, what went down was rather amusing...

"Yeah, I helped wrangle the bird back to Zouichi, though nothing much outside of that in terms of mysterious things."

"Stick around a while. I was hardly here a month before I got possessed by a demon," she says darkly. "You'll find some mysteries soon enough, I'm sure."

"..." There's a pause, then Shoutarou clears his throat. "Well. I wouldn't say I'm too anxious to find something." Especially something like that.

"Oh, come on. It can hardly be a stimulating job, being a detective, if the most you investigate is missing parrots."

"The most I've investigated here was the parrot, yes. I've got a fair bit of experience in the strange and bizarre cases from home, though."

"Oh?" She curls up her legs into criss-cross applesauce, as if about to hear a story. "Such as?"

"One of the more recent ones was where there was a man in the city who was taking payments from people to forcefully age people they didn't like." He sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Got blasted by a bit of it myself, and got a taste of being an old man."

"Tell me you didn't do that intentionally, like one of those scientists who use themselves as a lab rat? Aging is just awful on your musculature. I'd know." At nearly fifty, she's one of the oldest humans on the ship. Fancy that.

The detective shakes his head roughly. "No, no - thought what I was wearing would protect me from his attack - it hadn't done anything but inflict pain on the other guy in the fight, so I didn't dodge, since I figured I could endure it."

A pause.

"Not my brightest idea."

She squints at him. "No, no, it doesn't sound it. And since when is pain a better alternative to moving out of the way?"

"There was a civilian in the area that he'd already tried to attack once. I figured that if his attention was focused on me, that my comrade could attack him while he was distracted - and it'd keep his attention off the civilian."

He sighs. "The whole thing was full of bad ideas, in retrospect."

"Well, most acts of bravery are pretty bad ideas, honestly. Doesn't make them less brave or worthy." She shrugs. "Are you alone from your world here?"

"Yeah. Thankfully, in my experience, they work more often than they should..." He sighs, though it's an amused one, then shakes his head at her question. "No, I've got my partner here, thankfully." Someone needs to keep him in line and from doing stupid things like they were just discussing.

"That's good," she says with a slight smile. "I have my son here, and his friends. Once my husband shows up I'll be set for life and can leave my ridiculous planet in the dust."

She makes a 'poof' gesture with her hand.

Well, that was certainly not something he expected - this place really did host all kinds. There's an awkward pause before he speaks again, addressing that 'poof' - "Ah...not fond of your planet?"

"Not especially, no. I'm famous there. Then again, if I keep ending up in jail, I'll be famous here too."

There's a short pause before Shoutarou answers. "...I see."

"What, you think fame is all champagne and ball gowns? It's work. It's difficult, backbreaking work and everyone has an opinion about how you should do it differently."

The detective scratches his head for a moment. "I thought you were implying that fame was due to things that would get you jailed."

"Oh, no, nothing of the sort." She has a lopsided grin. "Back home, it's what other people did to me that makes me famous. But I suppose you arrived a little after I posted my sob story to the comm system."

"Ah..." Awkward pause. "My apologies for assuming, then. And yeah, I believe I did."

"Well, you'll hear about it eventually anyway. No point hiding it." She gives a sarcastic little bend at the waist. "I'm the most famous human host of a Yeerk back home. Seven years as the face of the invasion. You've heard what a Yeerk is, right?"

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