Eleveth little lie ♰ This room's gonna be my grave and there's no one who can save me

[beingdifferent]

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[There is nothing that can undo the damage that's been done.

Since Bond's (violation) revelation Esther's clung to what little privacy she has left. As soon as she was given permission to return to her cabin she'd barricaded herself in. The formerly pretty little room is in a shambles now, littered with torn books, ripped clothing, smashed toys, shredded drawings, and broken furniture. She herself fares little better: for days she's been locked in alone, wrestling with tides of rage, fear, and sadness, knowing she can't return to the other passengers. Rorschach's occasional appearances go mostly unacknowledged, and when he checks in on her she says nothing of consequence. Why should she? There's nothing to say.

What she did was perfectly sensible. Someone had power over her; she neutralized the threat. And it's not as if Bond didn't deserve to die. There is some meager comfort in knowing she's hurt him as badly as he's hurt her, but it's nothing compared to the reaction that is sure to face her when she goes out again. A quick overview of Bond's post humiliating her confirms what she suspects. There's astonishment, fear, gloating, revulsion, rage - all the normal emotions a freak inspires.

And they wonder why she said she was a child.

After she reads the messages she destroys her communicator, then smashes it again when it reappears. Then again and again, until she becomes so impatient with the Admiral's game that she shoves it into the back of a drawer. She buries herself in her Bible, refuses food, sleeps too much, ignores the flood announcement and all its effects. But she has to come back out sometime, when the hunger and the impotent anger become too much.

So she puts herself back together. A sponge bath, styled hair, a fresh dress. Makeup, again. Ribbons tied just so around the scars on her wrists and neck. By all appearances a child again. And why not? What are they going to do, accuse her of lying?

The first stop is the mess hall, where she ferrets out a meal and eats in relative silence, staring at the others passing through and minding their own business. When she feels their eyes on her too keenly she slips out and makes her way down to the art room, where she settles down at the piano and flexes her fingers. Then she touches them to the keys and begins playing Prokofiev's sonata no. 7, third movement; appropriately angry, fittingly difficult and treacherous.]

Comments

[sickjoke]

[ He pulled over a chair, sitting down beside the piano bench -- not to presume that she'd want to be so close to a stranger. But he pulled off his gloves fire-- his fingers were pale as chalk, the nails a deep evergreen. ]

[ He worked his fingers into his collar, before he undid the clasps on the his helmet and lift it off, and set it on top of the piano. He smiled-- haltingly, awkwardly, grin over-wide but expression trying to be gentle. He knew he wasn't-- pretty to look at. ]

Secrets are hard to keep on the barge, I'm told.

[beingdifferent]

[With a growing feeling of confusion, Esther stills and watches him strip off the gloves and the helmet. Her forehead wrinkles in thought when she sees his hands, an expression that hasn't entirely left her when he shows his face.

It wasn't what she expected. Wardens, for the most part, aren't scarred or disfigured; in fact as a group they tend to be unfairly attractive. But if this is what he's hiding, why he reveals it to her at all she doesn't know.]

They're hard to keep anywhere.

[sickjoke]

Which means it's hard to watch 'em get taken away. It's a lot of work for someone to eventually ruin it all, isn't it?

[ He leans forward a little, resting his arms on the rests of is chair. ]

Look, I'm not your warden. I'm not going to get up your nose about what you did with Bond, Ellie and Vesper beyond 'collateral damage is uncool' in Vesper and Ellie's case, and from how Bond acts, I'm guessing he courted some of what he got. Doesn't make it any less wrong, but I get being pushed and angry. But I do know why you'd want to keep it, and I'm sorry that someone who has been asked to help people decided to give you a turn as bad as you gave him.

[ He thought wardens would be better. Bond showed him, quite glaringly, that he was wrong. ]

Can I ask why you kept it, even in a place like this? We got weird stuff anywhere, and plenty of people who'd empathize with you.

[beingdifferent]

[She takes a deep breath, looking Jack over once again. It doesn't surprise her that he misunderstands her motives (her attacks on Ellie and Vesper weren't collateral but strategic, and as for her age...), although the fact that he's trying to, earnestly, is - the word she decides on is "encouraging."

Still, this question borders on absurd and she looks at him in disbelief. Empathizing? No, there would be well-intentioned pity, not empathy, and she refrains to point out that fact.]

In a place like this? Do you really think that, here, I stand any chance as I am?

[sickjoke]

That's hard to say, but I'm guessing you played to your strengths and came out swinging with it, and... [ maybe it's just safe and comfortable, if... unhappy. ]

I believe you'll need help, but-- miss-- ma'am, I'm-- not real sure of address here-- [ The age is a thing; even as she is still she looks young, even if he knows she's supposedly not ] but there's nobody that hasn't been-- burned by... life or genetics or anything else that doesn't need a hand up sometimes.

I'm guessing nobody's actually extended one to you in a real attempt to be... friendly, let's say, in a long time.

[ But he nods, thinking on it. ]

Course I could be totally talking out my butt. I didn't grow up with anything but Joe Averageness, and you-- well, you... remind me of a couple of friends of mine, who grew up out of place.

[beingdifferent]

[What he says is, as Esther expects, not what she wants to hear. But it's said with heartfelt honesty, with what she suspects is genuineness.] Miss, [she answers absently, looking at him with big eyes - she knows very well that others have suffered due to their bodies or circumstances, and she knows they've managed to rise above them. But she also knows very well that some people can't do that.] I...

[He's right. There has been concern, of course, since she got to the Barge, but friendliness is an olive branch that is frequently extended and just as frequently snatched away. She believes he honestly wants to offer it, and believes honestly that he will rescind that offer once he learns more about her.]

What are these friends of yours like?

[sickjoke]

Well, Gennie Tetch, she's -- honestly she's not that much taller then you, and she... well, she could pass for a gentleman, on top of it. [ Life can be cruel. ] Not a handsome one, either.

Waylon's a different sort; he's big a house, but hes got this rare gene; its an atavistic mutation. Makes him... lizardy. Prefers his meat raw. He had a real rough time of it, growing up.

Jon, Eddie, they're not odd in ways you can see. Oswald-- he's another person with uh-- vertical issues. People who don't fit the pretty mold, they don't do well in high society. He's been a wealthy outcast. Lives on the wild side with us, when it'll turn a profit. He keeps thinking he can buy his way to happiness... [ But it's not something that an be bought, is it? Jack knows that well enough. ]

That's just the local scene. Elsewhere there's Cerebrum; he's just a brain in a jar, and his boyfriend's a giant French gorilla and that's-- not like, code for being a very large, hairy gay man. [ He laughs. ] Dr. Sivana's around, and he's just a little off kilter, and he cloned himself kids, I think...

[ He ran his hand through his hair, eyes flickering to the door; so far, so good no new viewers. Being revealed makes him intensely uncomfortable, but-- for a chance to connect with, to help someone... ]

[ Well, he'll take one for the team. ]

We're a weird bunch. But you have to be, to do what we do.

[beingdifferent]

[What Esther was expecting was something along the lines of "a friend of mine is scarred from an accident" or "a friend of mine is unusually tall." Certainly not the varied descriptions he lists, and definitely not the mention of anyone her size or shape. Or anyone stranger than herself for that matter. There must be some people who bounce back easily from their disfigurements, she supposes, but how they do so is beyond her understanding.

She gazes at him and follows his gaze to the door, guessing what he's thinking of.] You don't have to keep it off for me.

What do you do?

[sickjoke]

No. Not for just you. Part of it's for me, too. They keep telling me it's okay, nobody here cares, but-- [ He's afraid, too. That they won't understand, that'll they'll see all that he's lost in his bleached skin, his scars. They'll know what he can't do anymore, they'll hear his laugh and know he's Humpty Dumpty, put together a little crooked after the fall. ] Maybe it isn't. Feels like that sometimes, you know.

[ His eyes are down on the helm a moment later, its Coke can red under his bleached white hands. It makes him safer just to have it, but it should be on. But it isn't. Not yet. ]

Well, uh.

This is the crazy part is-- we got tired of watching the world grind people like us-- big and small, long and tall or short and fat, scaly or smooth... we got tired of watching people bigger, meaner than us... push everybody body down.

So we started fighting back. Put on masks and made costumes and--heh. Fought crime. I know-- crazy, right?

[beingdifferent]

People care about these things. They make a difference, no matter if they deny it. [The scars, perhaps, are not so bad - either hers or him. Plenty of the passengers had physical flaws, but to be fundamentally different, fundamentally weaker, always mattered.

But she's never met someone who felt the same way about themselves, and certainly no one who took a stand for it.]

And that's what you were fighting for?

[sickjoke]

Among other things. There's a really horrible person who runs the city I live in... And he's makes life hard for anybody who wants to live and love honestly. Did-- [ he gestures with one hand ] The scars first. The acid drop, later.

Anyway--

I fight-- because otherwise he's just going to keep... doing things like this. Because people need someone to do that, when they're not strong enough to do so.

[beingdifferent]

Did he attack you before you began fighting him?

[It's not quite the same thing; there's no centralized figure of revile in her own life, save maybe herself. Regardless of that, though, this motley crew of fellow freaks at least guarantees his sympathy, and for that she's grateful.]

I suppose they do.

[sickjoke]

That depends on how you define 'fighting'. I didn't start with my fists or a knife. I started on stage. I did the worst thing I could do at the time: I mocked him. I mocked him and everything he did. I made him central to my routine in the comedy clubs... and it got his attention.

And then, since I liked to laugh so much-- well. [ He gestures again to his scars, the grin they pull too wide. ] Here we are.

After that, got -- a lot more direct.

[beingdifferent]

That's often just as harmful as a physical attack. [Physical attacks, at least, are easier to process, to react to and adapt to. Esther is no fighter, but she is keen and fast enough to keep alive in the face of violence. At least she had been until Kate. But mockery can be damaging, confusing, debilitating, in a way that simple violence can't - it's a powerful weapon, virtually regardless of who uses it.

This isn't to say she begrudges it of Jack. It sounds very much like she'd have torn this man down too if given the chance.]

And you helped the people he hurt?

[sickjoke]

Yeah. Found that the hard way. Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words cause lasting emotional damage. To paraphrase, anyway.

[ He nods once; yes, that's what he's doing. A dose of vengeance for himself, and helping others so they don't end up like him. ]

That's be it on the nose. And he hurts a lot of people. We got the guy caught right now but he has a criminal empire that spans the globe. That's... why I'm here. For a deal to help.