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

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

"You know you have to buy a ticket if you want to see a show, right?" She doesn't give him a long time to stare. He gives her the heebie jeebies.

[jesus_is_gundam]

He didn't move, other than a minor change in his expression which seemed to indicate that he heard her. Still, the way he was looking at her, as if he was trying to bore through the surface and right underneath with just the power of his stare. Which could be possible, given the odd variety of powers on this ship. Though what he was looking for or hoped to find here seemed to be a mystery.

"Eva Salazar." Hey, look, he actually spoke. "What were you hoping to find here?" He would assume that she hadn't found it, based on her condition.

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

She matches his stare with one of her own, eyes narrowed to communicate that while she doesn't appreciate being stared at, she isn't intimidated. Looking intimidated is for weak people who want to paint themselves as targets, and messy as she is, she doesn't necessarily look vulnerable so much as wild.

"It's rude to address someone by name and not give them your own," she says, ignoring is question.

[a_mere_human]

Setsuna was raised by wolves-- well, actually by terrorists, so things like manners and proper social etiquette were foreign concepts to him. Even that particular cue for him to give her his name went over his head, eliciting no response from him.

If she wanted his name, she would've asked for it. She didn't, so he assumed she didn't want it, and thus didn't give it. He had more questions for her, but he needed to hear her answer first, so he didn't ask them yet, remaining silent.

It likely came across as cold and rude, but most of the people around him were used to him being... him. He sometimes forgets that not everyone can translate Setsuna to English so easily.

If anything, her expression was easier to understand than the point she was trying to make. He wasn't trying to force answers out of her, per se, though there were things he did want to know. His expression changed slightly, shifting into a more patient look, but still with that sense that he could see right through any facade she could put up. He was basically waiting now, for her to give him those answers.

And he could wait all day, because he had nothing better to do. And he knew that she didn't either.

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

"Your name. I'd like to know your name." She doesn't bother with 'please', because Setsuna has given her no reason to believe that he's warranted niceties.

She even chills her fidgeting down to an occasional roll of her wrist, so as not to look intimidated. She's aware of what she's capable of doing to a person, and as such has no need to be frightened of a creepy kid unless he gives her a reason. Even when caged.

[a_mere_human]

"Setsuna F. Seiei." The lack of a 'please' didn't seem to bother him.

He's still waiting for her to answer his first question.

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

And she has no intention at giving it to him.

"I haven't heard of you before. Are you with Security?"

[a_mere_human]

"No."

He didn't seem intent on elaborating further. He just went back to quietly and patiently waiting.

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

"Then why are you staring at me? Be sure that I'm not about to start dancing a conga or anything in here. Not enough space for all the steps."

[a_mere_human]

There was a minor quirk of an eyebrow, as if he was genuinely confused about why she would say something like that. "I'm waiting for you to answer my question."

Was that much really not obvious?

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

"What the question about looking for something? I'm not looking for anything, Mr. Seiei. Satisfied?"

[a_mere_human]

The use of an honorific was confusing as well, since, as far as he could tell, she was older than him. Much older.

"I didn't ask what you were looking for. I asked what you were hoping to find here." It was a subtle, but important difference, at least in his rather screwed up brain. He didn't know the details of why she was in here, but that wasn't important to him. But the swiftness and silence of it, coupled with her current condition, was what seemed to capture his attention.

No resistence. No challenges. At least none that were on the record.

"You allowed yourself to end up here for a reason." So, why? What did she hope to find in those four walls?

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

For a moment, she considers not answering his implied question. If he needs everything laid out for him, she can play that game too. Only she still can't tell if he's playing coy or if he honestly can't elaborate on something unless asked directly, or some middle ground between those options.

"Yes. I had the integrity to report myself for a crime and do my sentence. I like to think that's an accomplishment in this day and age."

[a_mere_human]

"It wasn't integrity." The correction wasn't made harshly, just plainly, like she had made a simple mistake in her language. Too much was hidden for it to be an act of integrity. And if she did have so much integrity, then she probably wouldn't have done whatever it was that got swept under the rug which landed her in here.

So why was she doing this? He had his theories, but no clear answer.

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

"Did I solicit your opinion?" Her voice is a snap, with the commanding air of someone who's used to barking orders. Or at least having them barked through her vocal cords.

[jesus_is_gundam]

"It wasn't an opinion," he responded evenly. But at least it was starting to creep into his head that this conversation was Not Going Well, to put it mildly.

"Was it your destruction, salvation, or something else you hoped to find in there?" Peace? Pain? A place to hide?

What did she want for herself?

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

"It's none of your business what I hoped to find here, if I were looking for anything at all, which I haven't been." Honestly, the conversation was Not Going Well before either of them exchanged words. She only keeps it up now out of stubbornness, and because she suspects that even if she stopped arguing he'd still stand there. Staring at her.

[jesus_is_gundam]

His expression softened slightly, which would probably seem odd, given the way this conversation was going.

"Or perhaps you don't know." Which would only make her situation all the more worse.

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

"Don't know what?" She reads his softening as him being patronizing, as if he's about to be benevolent and show her the wrongs of his ways. The last thing she wants in this cell is to feel condescended to.

[jesus_is_gundam]

"What you were hoping to find in this place." He was remarkably consistent, if nothing else. But he wasn't going to patronize her, he simply felt bad that she was making herself suffer for no reason, a reason she couldn't identify, or a reason she didn't want to let herself admit to.

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

"I wasn't hoping to find anything." She gets the feeling that this conversation has become so circular it's akin to a Moebius strip. "I'm going to read my book now. Please leave."

[jesus_is_gundam]

"If that's truly the case, then your being here accomplishes nothing. You won't change, no matter how much you punish yourself." Which means that he probably can't help her, and thus no longer has a reason to be there.

[vissernone.livejournal.com]

"Oh, you're just a ray of sunlight," she mutters into the spine of her book. "I don't hear you leaving yet. Go."

[a_mere_human]

That's because he moves as silently as he does anything else. But he's already on his way out. He thought he might have something to offer her later on, but he's realized that he's wrong, and she has nothing he wants.