cartesianism | AFTER-ICE-CREAM-PARTY

AFTER-ICE-CREAM-PARTY

[Boy everyone is so bloodthirsty tonight. And now a kid is dead and another is gonna execute. Do y'all need some baskin robbins, because it seems like you do!!! So before everyone can leave, Niwatori raises her voice louder than it's gone before now to draw a little attention, and then deflates immediately when she actually gets it.]

Excuse me, please! U-um... this case was really hard, and I think we could all use some time to cool our heads before we finally go back. So... ice cream? Who's with me?

[she'll lead the pack there and anyone else can go home or to visit Clarisse on the set of Orange is the new Black.

Niwa's not that good of a host though, she just gets her own ice cream and lets everyone serve themselves. Who is she to limit your freedom. (Someone who doesn't want to be partly responsible for a Millium Monstrosity, that's who.)]

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[A good while after the trial ends, she enters the jail. She seems uncertain coming in here; she didn't do this for Nine, and she was certainly more fond of him than she is of Clarisse, though it's not saying much.

All the same, there's something she's been wondering about. She just isn't sure where to start, so it's with something blunt rather than niceties.]

So. Why'd you do it?

[She makes a soft noise that could almost be an amused one, if she'd made it any other time; Millium's the only person who'd been so blunt so far, but Clarisse wouldn't offer her anything.]

Why's it matter to you?

...Because I cared about him, and I want to know if I was right about your envelope.

[It's a quiet admission, but a sincere one that she wouldn't give to someone who wasn't in Clarisse's position.]

I'm not interested in satisfying your curiosity.

[Her tone doesn't change, though, from that empty murmur towards the wall.]

What are you interested in doing right now, then?

[...What a weird question. Something shifts in her expression, eyebrows knitting together just so.]

Didn't give it any thought. [But—just as fast, forcing that tired neutrality back to herself,] It doesn't matter, anyway.

[Something about that - it sours, along with the other things Clarisse said during the trial. It collects somewhere in her heart, the familiarity of it, even in a completely different situation.]

I think it matters. [...] Your - Lady whoever. She's probably going to be upset you won't come back.

Lady Eremiya.

[It's only after the instinct to correct her passes that her expression goes tight again; like a smile is trying to find its way through a scowl, like she desperately cannot restrain either of them. Still, she doesn't look at Natalie. What a lovely thought, that Eremyia would mourn for her like Reese did; that she would have held Clarisse's hand in her left and the healing staff in her right, told her it would be okay, she'd do better next time, she would take care of her.

What a stupid, useless feeling for her to have, and she only wishes they would kill her sooner.]

I failed. She doesn't have any need for me anymore.

...I think she's thinking about it wrong.

[Still... She doubts she'll make much of an impact on Clarisse's thinking now, and it's not as if the situation can be changed, even if she could. Instead:]

Did you do it to get back to her, then?

I told you I don't care about your curiosity.

[That's easier to respond to than the first bit, even though Clarisse's expression tightens into indignance at it.]

But you don't exactly have anything to lose by answering, do you?

Don't have anything to gain, either.

...You could at least have someone understand. You could not be alone right now.

[It's said sincerely. Dislikes: loneliness, after all.]

[You could not be alone right now.

She had called out for Lady Eremiya, there in that blizzard once she'd been struck down and left to die. Reese came instead, and Reese held her all the way back to the hideout, and even after Clarisse told her to leave Reese came back and held her hand and called her sister when bleeding out made her colder than the snow and wind did out in the mountains.

Her shoulders draw up and her fingers curl tighter into her arms, and in some desperate, futile bid to stabilize herself, she closes her eyes for one long, silent moment.

She'll die alone this time.]

I've always been alone.

[For all that she tries, she cannot keep her voice steady.]

...You didn't have to be.

[And that's the biggest tragedy of all, for her.]

Everyone here is way too nice. If you just weren't... You didn't have to be.

If I just wasn't.

[Said flatly without the emptiness, almost annoyed. She makes a short, harsh noise that could almost be a laugh but for the way her expression twists into a hard, ugly scowl that she struggles to contain. Do you ever stop? Your—This? Everything? What a stupid sentiment, that she would ever be anyone or anything else, that it would make a difference.]

But I am. ...Heh. Was.

Of course I did.

[There's a short pause, then, far gentler than she's used to:]

But you don't have to be right now. I can - I'm here. I can listen.

...

I don't understand you. [A quiet breath that wishes it could sound as harsh as the last, and Clarisse closes her eyes again.] We're strangers. I've been nothing but nasty to you and everyone else. You cared about that kid I killed. This is just—just some ploy for answers, isn't it, where you pretend to be nice and friendly to, to get whatever stupid curiosity you've got about all this satisfied...?

You can think that if you want.

[But she shifts, actually sitting so she can lean against the bars. Her eyes don't leave Clarisse.]

But that's not why I'm saying this. I just... I don't know. I think I get it, at least a little. That's why I wanted to know if I was right.

What makes you think you'd get it at all?

[She tries for vicious, tries for condescending, but that emptiness swallows up her tone and she can't manage anything else but how desperately she wants some reason, for—for—and she cannot decide if she wants to confirm her own twisted logic of give-and-take, that no one would ever have any true kindness to offer her, or if it would be better to give her answers, to be wrong, but not alone.]

[She takes a moment. This is hard to vocalize, still too raw to put to words, and even if they're reaching some common ground... She doesn't want Clarisse to hear her voice break here.]

Because... There have been people who I pinned everything on, too. People who I thought, like, if I can make sure they care about me, everything else is fine. It's kind of similar for you, right?

...

Lady Eremiya brought us all up from the dirt. Nothing matters but serving her, earning her praise.

[So, like, yes, but—Natalie says it like a thought, a belief, but to Clarisse, these are facts, all she's ever known. This is the way of things, that no one matters more than Lady Eremiya, nothing more than all she does.]

It's not...pinning. It's what our circumstances are.

And what did she bring you up to do? To kill people, to only follow her orders?

[There's... She's not sure if it's pity or sympathy, but it strikes at her regardless. Is there a point to her saying this? She isn't certain, even as she continues.]

It's not right, even if it seems like it.

You don't get it.

[This is as close to mad as Clarisse can manage, even though her voice still comes so weak, but she actually, finally turns her head Natalie, even though she stares past, more than at her.]

She could have left us all to die where she found us. She didn't. We were taken care of, we were trained and taught and made strong. We were made into something. Following her orders is an honor.

...Right.

[And that's what she knew would happen, of course, but - she can't deny the sting of it.]

But... Is that why you did it? To get back to her? Whatever the answer is, it doesn't mean you'll... [No, actually—] It doesn't mean I'll leave you alone.

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