An Unexploded Shell Inside a Cell [Open]

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

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.

Comments

[leafonthewind]

"I don't know if I'd call him legendary," Wash said. His expression changed into something between panic and amusement and he added quickly, "Actually please don't ever call him that anywhere near earshot. And definitely don't tell him I've been talking about him."

He sighed, thinking back to Marco's reaction on the omnicomms. "I'm... not really going to tell you how to be a mom because I've been avoiding being a dad for a few years now, but you might want to put yourself together a little before Marco gets down here. He wasn't taking it very well on the comms." He paused. "Part of that was probably half the stuff they were saying on the comms..."

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

She grins and winks. "Don't worry. If I let on that I know about his dark history as a captain wed to misplaced machismo, I'll blame it on Kaylee."

She tugs at a tangle in her hair. "I can't guarantee I'll find it in me to clean myself up. God knows he's seen me at much worse than this. But at least I can take the weight of him worrying about Stepfather Kang off his mind."

[leafonthewind]

Wash looked pained. "Eva," he said, "you need to take care of yourself. Sitting in the brig for a few days because you need to do some soul-searching is one thing, but..."

He trailed off. He was scolding her like she was a member of his crew, and even though they'd served together he still wasn't quite sure where he stood with her. He couldn't give her orders, certainly.

"I'm just worried," he finished.

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

A chill seems to fall over her expression. "And I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself, Wash. I'm not starving myself in here. I'll find ways to make myself useful after I'm released."

It stings, feeling pitied. She knows she should be glad to be worried about, that she has friends, but she feels as if he's chipped at the little scraps of her pride that remain.

[leafonthewind]

His face fell immediately. "That's not what I'm saying - don't take it like that," he said. "None of us asked to be here, none of us want to be here, and you don't have to make yourself useful. If you don't want, that is."

Pity was not what this was. This was concern. Eva was a friend, at least, Wash thought she was. And even though he wasn't a terribly religious man, he still knew that some things weren't good for the soul, and one of them was being in a cage.

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

"If I don't make myself useful, then what good am I? Just squatting in a body someone else could be putting to better projects, could be working harder, could be enjoying..." She presses her lips together and shakes her head, letting lanks of messy hair swing over her eyes.

"It's a nice thought, Pájaro, but it doesn't mean much." She smiles just a little, faintly. "But thank you for it anyway."