[ His resignation to her presence makes her smile, and she goes ahead and makes herself comfortable. She hangs her hands lazily over the crest of her knees. ]
[ and by contrast where she leans forward, he leans back. Spine firm against the wall like it would give him protection, give him comfort out of all that metal. ]
Don't sleep long. Prefer to take it where I can.
[ It's not quite pity for himself, just that he knows he wakes, sometimes, thrashing and choking on river water and his rover mates - now bunk mates - deserve sleep as much as the next. ]
[ And like before he's not sure what to do with that, he stares, quiet for awhile, and then jerks his head away. He's wary, and not with all her empty words can he trust her. ]
I doubt that very much.
[ the refusal is there, if not strictly in words but in the edge of the way he holds himself away and apart, the hard look he gives her in return. ]
[ The prodding, the teasing, the flirting he might not know what to do with but he could brush off easily enough.
That question however sets his mouth to a hard line and his words clipped. He has secrets few enough his own -- she was the only one that mattered. It is years of habit more than her in particular really, of barbs and taunts that make him flat as stone in reply. ]
That is neither your concern or appropriate, nor something I wish to discuss.
[ And he doesn't believe it, not in the least, not even because he is particularly skilled at telling lies, but he's heard how she talks, heard the selfish want in her words that means there is not truth in her words that mimed care. ]
I am sure you are capable of a great many things, but concern I very much doubt, is one of them. [ his scowl deepens, and he looks away again. ] I am fine as I am.
[ Now that makes her chuckle. Not everyone picks up on her ways so quickly. She usually has the chance to run circles around a mark several times before they even suspect. She likes the people catch on to her. ]
And you have no interest in concern, it puts you in good company.
[ Concern was a burden on those it was directed at, in her opinion. And so what better company than a woman who won't bestow it. ]
[ He's got more blind faith than most, when it comes down to it, he couldn't afford to have anything less to do what he does, but not for those that talk with the void behind their teeth. ]
I do not understand why you continue you this, you have nothing to gain from me.
Who said I wanted something other than your attention.
[ She lets her head fall back against the wall, smiling up at the ceiling. The expression lacks predation, seeming instead rather charmed and affectionate. ]
Is your sense of self so damaged you find that difficult?
[ She lets her head roll to the side to look at him once more, eyebrow raised. ]
[ It is, and he had never resented it. It was a safety mechanism that had allowed him to keep him out of the worst of the court's claws. Nobility with shark teeth that offered praise only to rip it apart.
If the baseline. It was the only way to survive. He had never cared because his sense of self had been her, she was first and last, beginning and end of him. ]
No. I never had it to begin it. [ Thinks of Garrett's prying questions. How little he had understood, and even in his red team, he knows he's not quite the standard. He was cruelly selfless, that way. ] But you -- wish for something. Else you would not be here.
[ Her expression, looking at him, is not one which crosses her face often, not quite so far as pity, but sadness. She would hate to have no sense of herself, to have it damaged or warped. It is the worst fate she can possibly imagine and one of her few points of empathy, whatever good that does her. ]
I want you to pay attention to me.
[ Some may call it a juvenile desire, but Carla knows that everyone feels it, they just learn not to say it. They put aside their selfishness in some misguided idea that martyring their desires makes them mature, respectable. She thinks her honesty is the better tact. ]
From underneath all your sad, tattered thoughts. I want you to see me. If you don't want to sleep with me, my heart isn't broken, but I want to see what you're hiding in that corpse.
[ So maybe she's after his soul after all. To have something intangible and secret of his. Flattering, in its way, she wouldn't bother if she didn't think there was something of worth to him. His unyielding devotion is cowardly and cruel and admirable, his self-flagellation assuredly pathetic and inspiring. She likes things which fill her with complex, contradictory thoughts. They were the ones worth looking at. People and things not quite the standard. ]
And that bothers you. To not be needed, but wanted. It takes away the easy rules of duty.
[ Her gaze is piercing. She has been told in the past that her pointed honesty, her intensity, makes others uncomfortable. She doesn't care. She won't change herself for the comfort of others. Comfort was overrated, nothing worth truly having came easily. She needed challenge. Perhaps that was insulting, and made others feel played with, but she found those reaction unnecessary. They should be flattered she took the time.
She is a selfish and short-sighted woman. ]
I want to see what else there is.
[ And so, perhaps, he should have disbelieved her less when she said she was looking out for him. Not out of concern, and from all he's said that should be of comfort to him. And for all of her selfish ways, what she is truly proposing is to share. ]
[ He sits quiet for her to speak, to say it all and it curls something in him he doesn't know what to make of it. Uncomfortable and displeased by it all, because it's a too familiar ache. A too familiar want.
He cannot afford it, he cannot have it, there's madness tinged and spun on the edges of it. The coping mechanism he'd developed under the torturer's hot metal, was his only saving grace. The sharp cut sections he separated himself into, the only way to endure that much pain day after day. ]
Then my mask has more to offer than the corpse does.
[ His displeasure means he has at least heard her, and for the time being that's all she's asked. She smiles at him, dark-eyed and cheerful. His sorrow is utterly delightful to her, sweet and precious. She touches his arm lightly with the tips of her fingers.
She keeps her horrible, poisonous mouth shut for a moment and waits to see if he'll tolerate it. ]
[ -- It isn't. He goes rigid the minute she does, but he lets her. A guttering flame to a strong breeze and he did not quite think he missed ( but he did ) what he had lost. He has not stopped missing and the world lost some shade he cannot recreate. This is not what he wants, it's an imitation and he's full of empty spaces that crave something similar, but he cannot stand it.
( It's defiling of a memory he needs to keep pure, only way, only way to keep breathing. ) ]
No. [ and he snatched her wrist up. Pulling it off in a tight grip. ] What I had you cannot replace. [ He puts her hand away from him, drops it like it burns him. ] I'd ask you to not try.
[ She doesn't flinch, her arm loose as he pushes it away. All she really does is shake out her hand snidely before setting it over the curve of her knee. ]
You're obsessed. [ She knows that feeling. Does that count as empathy? ] I like it.
[ She pushes to her feet, stretching lazily as if this entire conversation did not happen, and she is merely cooling down from her run. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
You don't care for your bunk?
no subject
Don't sleep long. Prefer to take it where I can.
[ It's not quite pity for himself, just that he knows he wakes, sometimes, thrashing and choking on river water and his rover mates - now bunk mates - deserve sleep as much as the next. ]
no subject
Maybe you would sleep better with company.
[ Because she is both bored and shameless. ]
no subject
I doubt that very much.
[ the refusal is there, if not strictly in words but in the edge of the way he holds himself away and apart, the hard look he gives her in return. ]
no subject
When was the last time you slept with a woman?
[ God this bitch is rude... ]
no subject
That question however sets his mouth to a hard line and his words clipped. He has secrets few enough his own -- she was the only one that mattered. It is years of habit more than her in particular really, of barbs and taunts that make him flat as stone in reply. ]
That is neither your concern or appropriate, nor something I wish to discuss.
no subject
I'm merely trying to look after you.
[ She is such a fucking liar........ ]
no subject
I am sure you are capable of a great many things, but concern I very much doubt, is one of them. [ his scowl deepens, and he looks away again. ] I am fine as I am.
no subject
And you have no interest in concern, it puts you in good company.
[ Concern was a burden on those it was directed at, in her opinion. And so what better company than a woman who won't bestow it. ]
no subject
I do not understand why you continue you this, you have nothing to gain from me.
no subject
[ She lets her head fall back against the wall, smiling up at the ceiling. The expression lacks predation, seeming instead rather charmed and affectionate. ]
Is your sense of self so damaged you find that difficult?
[ She lets her head roll to the side to look at him once more, eyebrow raised. ]
You can answer that honestly, I won't judge.
[ And she won't. ]
no subject
If the baseline. It was the only way to survive. He had never cared because his sense of self had been her, she was first and last, beginning and end of him. ]
No. I never had it to begin it. [ Thinks of Garrett's prying questions. How little he had understood, and even in his red team, he knows he's not quite the standard. He was cruelly selfless, that way. ] But you -- wish for something. Else you would not be here.
no subject
I want you to pay attention to me.
[ Some may call it a juvenile desire, but Carla knows that everyone feels it, they just learn not to say it. They put aside their selfishness in some misguided idea that martyring their desires makes them mature, respectable. She thinks her honesty is the better tact. ]
From underneath all your sad, tattered thoughts. I want you to see me. If you don't want to sleep with me, my heart isn't broken, but I want to see what you're hiding in that corpse.
[ So maybe she's after his soul after all. To have something intangible and secret of his. Flattering, in its way, she wouldn't bother if she didn't think there was something of worth to him. His unyielding devotion is cowardly and cruel and admirable, his self-flagellation assuredly pathetic and inspiring. She likes things which fill her with complex, contradictory thoughts. They were the ones worth looking at. People and things not quite the standard. ]
And that bothers you. To not be needed, but wanted. It takes away the easy rules of duty.
[ Her gaze is piercing. She has been told in the past that her pointed honesty, her intensity, makes others uncomfortable. She doesn't care. She won't change herself for the comfort of others. Comfort was overrated, nothing worth truly having came easily. She needed challenge. Perhaps that was insulting, and made others feel played with, but she found those reaction unnecessary. They should be flattered she took the time.
She is a selfish and short-sighted woman. ]
I want to see what else there is.
[ And so, perhaps, he should have disbelieved her less when she said she was looking out for him. Not out of concern, and from all he's said that should be of comfort to him. And for all of her selfish ways, what she is truly proposing is to share. ]
no subject
He cannot afford it, he cannot have it, there's madness tinged and spun on the edges of it. The coping mechanism he'd developed under the torturer's hot metal, was his only saving grace. The sharp cut sections he separated himself into, the only way to endure that much pain day after day. ]
Then my mask has more to offer than the corpse does.
no subject
She keeps her horrible, poisonous mouth shut for a moment and waits to see if he'll tolerate it. ]
no subject
( It's defiling of a memory he needs to keep pure, only way, only way to keep breathing. ) ]
No. [ and he snatched her wrist up. Pulling it off in a tight grip. ] What I had you cannot replace. [ He puts her hand away from him, drops it like it burns him. ] I'd ask you to not try.
no subject
You're obsessed. [ She knows that feeling. Does that count as empathy? ] I like it.
[ She pushes to her feet, stretching lazily as if this entire conversation did not happen, and she is merely cooling down from her run. ]
I'll see you around, Corvo.
[
god what a creep she is....]