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You don't have to tell me. I just...

[ he takes a few cautious steps forward until he's beside her bed, but he's not sure if she'll react badly if he tries to touch her. maybe she's had enough of being touched for tonight. ]

I wanted to make sure you're okay. I was worried.

[ he is worried, no past tense there. it scares him a little bit, seeing her like this. it just feels like something went wrong. ]

[She watches him move closer, lips curving down a little. His cautiousness and worry doesn't translate well to her as all that she can read from his body language, the tone and weight behind his words, is uneasiness. She's very well aware of how she looks at the moment, hell, how she even smells, and she doesn't need to have him around if it all makes him feel this uncomfortable.]

Ha. [It's a dry, choked laughter.] You don't need to force yourself. I told you I'm going to be fine.

[ he frowns in the dark. ]

I'm not forcing myself to do anything. I'm here because I'm concerned. About a friend.

[ he draws in a breath and hesitates. ]

I'll go if you want.

Suit yourself.

[Something changes in the way how she looks at him when he drops the word 'friend.' For a briefest beat, her weary yet defensive appearance turns into a something more soft and sincere, making her eyes look like they belong to someone younger, or is it to her actual age,-- but within a blink she's back to normal and turns her head away, burying her face to her knees.

It's not that she doesn't appreciate this or his concern. In fact, she's touched that he came to see her and doesn't really want him gone. But all of this, the emotional turmoil rummaging through her, would be so much more bearable if he didn't look her like that.]

But now that you're still here. [she mumbles to the fabric.] Pass me my cigs. They're on the table.

Edited 2016-04-17 13:15 (UTC)

[ it twists miles's stomach to see her like this, miserable and drawn into herself. but she hasn't kicked him out, and he isn't going to leave just yet, so he doesn't, straying a little closer. ]

Didn't listen to a word I said about smoking on the ship, did you?

[ but it's not a rebuttal -- his voice is soft and wry, hopefully good-natured. he picks up the cigarette case and hands it to her with a little breath. ]

Heh. Sorry, you might want to bring that up to captains or something.

[She sniffles a little, extends her hand to grab the offered case. She brings it to against her chest but doesn't open it just yet. Then, she tilts her head a little just so that she can take a peek at him.

Then, after a quiet moment, she pats the empty space on the mattress next to her.]

Come here.

Yeah, I'm thinking about suggesting a rehab program next.

[ he even chances a small smile, faint but there, and he sits down next to her carefully, cradling his broken arm to his chest. he almost apologizes for busting in on her, but he's worried she'll regret inviting him to stay if he says anything else. so he just sits quietly and waits, patient. ]

That'd probably be the fastest way to raise the mutiny.

[She doesn't take her eyes off him as he moves closer and settles down next to her. At first, she takes a long, good look at his broken arm and the cast, then moves to his stiff shoulders and then to his nervous throat-- and finally raises her gaze to meet his eyes. ]

So, what do you think?

[About this situation. About her.]

[ miles holds her gaze unwaveringly, his gray eyes staring back at her in the dark. he looks at her, silent for a long moment of consideration. ]

Does it matter what I think?

Everyone seems to have an opinion about this. About these things. And it's usually the same one, so I was wondering what you think.

[She shrugs, not really answering to his question. She's doesn't know whether his opinion really matters to her or not but.. there's a faint hope that he'll understand why she does this. After all, it hasn't been that long since he was standing in the mercenaries place.]

[ miles hesitates, carefully considering his words before he answers. he taps his fingers lightly on his knee and draws in a breath. ]

I think...you did something at your own expense, because you felt you had to. Because you felt like it was a fair trade. And I think your life thus far has led you to believe that such trades are always fair, that you're tantamount to currency and you should spend yourself accordingly. But you're a person, J. You're not currency, you're -- well, not what it buys, maybe, but your personhood is above all notions of cost. It's never a fair trade to give away oneself. It's worth far too much.

[ he pauses a moment before adding: ]

But I don't think less of you, if that's what you mean.

[So, he's like the rest of them. Those are J's first thoughts, but as he continues talking she can feel a big chunk rising to her throat, making it harder to breathe. She swallows air, biting down on her lower lip, feeling threatening tears burning behind her eyes.

"J, you're my most important and valuable merchandise." She remembers Arther's voice and how good it had felt for a fleeting moment, despite knowing that it wasn't right what he did. But he gave her a purpose, a reason exist and keep going. Handing a dream to her on a silver plater.

Sniffling quietly, she opens her cigarette case and lights herself a smoke. ]

You sound so certain when you say that. But the reality is that things aren't like that for everyone.

Edited 2016-04-29 21:10 (UTC)

Whatever reality that is, you don't live there anymore.

[ his voice is still quiet, barely a whisper, but his tone is firm all the same, almost adamant. he can see the expressions shift on her face and he almost reaches out to her again, but he's still not sure she'd be okay with being touched right now. he tries sitting a little bit closer, but he doesn't want to get too up in her personal space, either. ]

I'm not...trying to belittle what you've gone through. Whatever it was, I know it was a lot. But you're not there anymore. You don't have to sell yourself to survive here.

[J only frowns a slightly at him when he shifts closer, but more from confusion than disapproval. She can see the hesitation in him but doesn't understand the reason for it and it makes her uncomfortable. He's so confident yet uncertain at the same time, almost as if he believes she'd suddenly fall apart if he got too close to her. ]

Ha. It's not that simple, you know. People don't change.

[Her words are accompanied with a dry, hollow laughter. J brings the cigarette to her lips and inhales the smoke, absent mindedly letting the ashes to fall on her duvet. Suddenly looking him into the eyes is too hard and she averts her gaze, looking at the darkness of the room.]

I won't change and what I do isn't for something like "survival". I'm a -- [She pauses, not sure how to continue. It's strange, every time before she's been so straight with her words and opinions, no matter how nasty they were or to who they were directed at. But right now she'd rather not to say what's in her mind.] -- I'm a nelly. I'm glad that there's someone out there who has weird kinks and finds me hot enough. So I never refuse anyone who wants to do it with me.

[ miles's mouth hovers half-open, ready to respond but waiting until she's done -- he's never heard the term nelly, but he can hazard a guess at what it means -- and when she is he just sits there. he looks...absolutely crushed by it, his whole expression shifting away, a flash of what she saw in his office the first time they met, except this time it isn't because of her. it's more of an echo. weird kinks, right...

miles looks away, too, ducking his head. his whisper sounds somehow weaker than before. ]

It is survival. Just a different sort. Survival of the heart, the mind.

[ validation is the word he doesn't say, but he's almost certain it's true. miles fidgets with a loose thread on his sling, trying to loosen the pressure in his chest enough to speak again. he sounds almost as hollow as she does. ]

Do you feel like your body means you don't deserve anything better?

[The silence stretches between them into a minute.

Now that's a question she doesn't know how to answer.

Does she think she deserves this? Not really but then again.. yes. She doesn't think that anyone deserves to be treated and viewed like she's been, experiencing the same hate that she's been subjected to. But that's just how the world works and things are the way they are. And without even realizing it, she's accepted them as truth and learned how to function around them, making compromises when it came to her own happiness and hardening her own heart at the process.

It's not right but there's only so much you can do when the world around you keeps telling that you are wrong. However, there's a unquenchable fire in her that keeps pushing her forward, making her to refuse to give in. She might be wrong and freak of nature, yes, but she still has every right to exist and be those things.]

I don't know. [She admits eventually, her voice matching his.] But it's the way I am.

But it doesn't have to be. You don't have to suffer like this.

[ but he's looking at his lap, not at her, feeling a little sick, now. it hits too close to home. he's not upset at her, she doesn't upset him, but the whole situation...it pains him that J's life has led her here. that everything that's happened to her has made her feel this way. she doesn't deserve it. ]

[J moves the cigarette back to her lips for the distraction -- something that would help keep her thoughts distant enough, to prevent her feelings to get best of her. It was always easier to talk about these things like they weren't about her.

But she can't quite manage to do either of those and fails to inhale the smoke properly, starting to cough weakly, eyes watering.]

Y-you are wrong. [She says between her coughs.] I'm not suffering.

Edited 2016-05-09 22:06 (UTC)

And this is you having a party? I'd hate to see what you're like when you're actually miserable.

[ the attempt at a joke falls horribly flat, and miles winces at himself. he starts to slide off the bed and get to his feet, burying a cough in the crook of his elbow. damned smoke. ]

Look, I can't...tell you what to do. I can't make you do anything. But this place could be a new start for you, if you let it. A clean slate.

[ he touches her shoulder briefly before he finally touches his feet to the ground without making a sound. ]

[J first thinks about commenting his failed joke to let him know that it was ok and that she appreciated the effort, in a way, but then she feels the mattress shift underneath them as he moves away from her. The room feels all of sudden colder than before as she only associates his dislike for the smoke as a form of rejection of sorts.

But when he finally touches her, placing his hand hesitantly on her shoulder, J swiftly moves her own hand on top of his and gives it a tight squeeze, silently signaling him not to leave yet.

A clean slate. Now, wouldn’t that be grand? Just how many people had told her the same during this very day? To start a new, ignoring everything that had happened in New York and with her parents as if none of it mattered. It’d be really wonderful -- but in the end there’s still so much that she can’t bring herself to let go. ]

What for? It’s not-- I don’t even get what you mean. What happens when we reach our destination and go back home? I can’t change.

That's where you're wrong, J. Anybody can change.

[ miles tops where he is, moving no further. his eyes fix on the aimless dark, going distant. ]

I had a bodyguard growing up -- necessary precaution. Name of Sergeant Konstantin Bothari, one of my father's Armsmen. He saved my life more times than I care to number, including from my own family. He was...strange and a little terrifying. It wasn't hard to see that he wasn't quite right in the head, but I trusted him with my life. He had a daughter my age, too -- Elena Bothari. [ something on his expression flickers in the dark, an echoed, aching fondness, a love he's never quite let go. ] She was one of my closest friends growing up, my confidante. She never knew a mother except for mine, the old Sergeant her only blood relation.

It wasn't until he died that I learned more about him, his past. That he had once been used as a tool for rape and abuse, that he had been manipulated and ordered by his superiors into assaulting prisoners of war. Unforgivable sins, and he knew that, even though they'd made him forget.

[ miles is silent for a moment, as though he needs to gather the words, to force them through the tightness in his chest. his voice comes out soft but almost toneless, putting a distance between himself and painful memories. ]

Elena was the product of that rape, left behind in a uterine replicator along with all the rest like her, orphans of war in an abstracted sense. And Bothari...Bothari made a choice. She could have remained an orphan, but he made the choice to be her father, and in so doing...well. Change, and choose again. [ a humorless echo of a smile passes over his face. ] He always was a madman, but he when he was freed from his cruel masters, he chose to change, to end that cycle of abuse. For Elena. So if a madman like Sergeant Bothari could change for the sake of someone else's future...surely you can change for your own.

[She patiently listens to his story, allowing him to keep his breaks and pauses and take time to finish what he has to say, letting each of his words to sink in. And when he's finally finished J only shakes her head, disagreeing with him.]

You have no idea what I've done in the past.

[Of course, none her experiences and sins were comparable to this Bothari's and she knows it. But she's hurt and caused lot of trouble to people around her but even more than that, she's the reason for the pain and ruin of the lives of those who mattered to her most. ]

And you still don't get it. In the end he had something that I don't. [Unlike J, he had someone in the end, a family.]

I had no idea what Bothari had done either, until he died. And even then it didn't change much. I'd still have trusted him with my life.

[ miles gathers himself up, touching j's shoulder again, but a little more firmly this time. ]

So find something. You'll have to work for it. It probably won't come easy. But it's out there, if you want it. And you do have to want it.

Edited 2016-06-06 15:59 (UTC)

[J continues to shake her head but this time it's more out from stubbornness and bafflement rather than blatant disbelief.Up until now she's always had that 'something.' A plan, a goal and a purpose. She knew the world and people around her and had learned how to live in hostile environment and it was frightening to come realize that none of that applied to life on Moira. And that she hasn't been able to adapt nearly as well as she had thought.

Finding something new would mean to let go of certain things that she didn't know how to.

J let's the silence between them stretch, not quite sure what to say anymore at this point.]

So -- [she eventually continues, voice sounding more shy than before.] Do I get a day off?

[ the truth is that miles is so tired and overworked he'd tip over at a slight breeze, and the prospect of covering someone else's shifts almost makes him want to cry

but he can't very well ask her to work tomorrow, no. he couldn't live with himself if he did. miles relents, giving her a weak, tired smile, but it's genuine.]

Yeah. Yeah, you do.

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