Third little lie ♰ You dream you've heard a lovely song; all night you're haunted by its theme

[beingdifferent]

[Open spam]

[Today, Esther is inside the art room. It’s quickly become her favorite area on board, a place where she really gets to create and experiment and play. Drawing and painting are small pleasures, and after experiencing a snippet of her earlier captivity she found herself almost grateful. Almost. Not grateful enough to forgive having to relive that time, but that realization is tucked away in her mind as soon as it’s made. There will be time for all that later; for now, she has artwork to make.

And she’s singing:
“When you wake up the notes are wrong,
The song has vanished with a dream.
Well that‘s the story of my life.”

Facing an easel Jesse helped set up, she dips her paintbrush into the light brown paint and adds it to the canvas with broad controlled strokes. A few more lines sung and a little dark brown paint later the color takes recognizable shape: it’s a bear, out of place in an urban environment with tiny simple people around him. As she adds a pair of large eyes to her picture, Esther narrows her own in concentration. The bear’s muzzle takes on a small frown.

All her pictures tell stories.]

Comments

[lastrat]

[There's something off about her, he knows that much. She aged up instead of down - and into something truly monstrous, something that doesn't fit the face - or facade - shes presented to the Barge at all. He knows something isn't right - being stabbed made it abundantly clear - and he intends to find out what.

Unfortunately, his usual methods aren't ones he'd turn on a little girl.

When he hears the singing, he pauses, and turns toward the art room door. For a moment, he stands outside staring in, out of sight, thinking. Then he changes his direction, and heads in. He walks quietly, and things his younger self had a good point he hadn't known how to follow: you catch more flies with honey.

Coming around her, but not behind, making sure she sees and hears him before he pulls a chair up beside her, Bond tilts his head a little to look at the painting, and offers a small smile.]

You're quite good.

[beingdifferent]

[Esther stops singing when Bond takes his seat, looks over at him with thoughtful eyes. He's doubly dangerous, his suspicions expected, and she has to turn on all the innocent charm and naivete a small child can muster.

She looks from the painting to him and back, then smiles shyly in return.]

I've had time to practice.

[lastrat]

[How much time, he has to wonder, but he nods and looks back to her work.]

What's a bear doing in a city? [He's keeping things light - not overly friendly, or he'd be suspicious, but the rule here is calm and polite.]

[beingdifferent]

[Esther looks at Bond as if the answer is painfully obvious and he should have known it already.] So people can look at him. Everyone wants to see bears, but only in zoos.

[lastrat]

[He smiles, points to the canvas.]

Zoos usually mimic the animal's habitat. Has this one escaped?

[Truthfully, he doesn't care, about her painting or it's story: he's just trying to put her at ease so he can get a look under those ribbons.]

[beingdifferent]

[That's a good question and she considers it seriously for awhile before shaking her head.]

No, this one is just not a very good zoo.

[lastrat]

How terrible for the bear.

Do you always have a story handy, when you paint? [He doesn't stare at her throat, but it's in his thoughts; he just needs a slip.]