thecapitol | Nothing's Changed [Open]

Who| Eva and open
What| Eva plays chess in the park.
Where| Park in the Capitol
When| Week 7
Warnings/Notes| Description of cuts.

The bruises have faded into the sick yellow of urine. The cuts haven't healed yet, and wearing the bandages and stitches - old-fashioned medicine, less than what a Panem Victor could usually expect - is something of a scarlet letter. No one's forgotten that she was cavorting with a would-be assassin, but the Capitol's seen fit to remind them anyway, and unless she spends the next few months indoors Eva's damned to carry the message on her face.

She somewhat appreciates that the hook-shaped slash on her upper lip has pulled her mouth into something of a perpetual sneer. It fits her mood, lately. The cuts along her arms and cheek are a little less thematically appropriate.

The sunlight wafts down to her like steam. Her palm rests on a book in the park, her eyes strolling lazily over the words of a poem she's read a hundred times before. The other hand rests in her lap, on the demure grey fabric of a dress that could blend into any background. Eva doesn't need to accessorize; here, the white bandage around her upper arms and the patch of gauze on her cheek are eye-catching enough.

A chess set sits on the small marble table in front of her. The pieces are arranged up perfectly, each slit in the bishop's hat forming a perfect line. She looks out at the park, relatively unoccupied for a Sunday afternoon what with people watching the final week of the Games, and waits for someone, anyone to come challenge her.

She loves chess. It's just yet another game where no one has to win.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Practically your entire District got one of those cuffs, didn't they?" Eva rubs her own wrist, not even noticing that she's doing so. "Good luck with getting the Capitol to forget what the cuffs are for. We all made a complete mess of things."

Penny may have fired the gun and injected the poison, but Eva may as well have killed Ariadne herself. Yet another tally in her soul. It's a crowded wall, in there, once blank and now marred many times over.

"Do tell. Jack drives everyone crazy, so the fact that you need to say it means he's gone above and beyond his usual idiocy."

"Aye they did. Can' 'elp feelin' a bi' guilty, like. I mean, 's prob'ly my faul' somewhere down the line. 'Alf of 'em ain't done nuffin."

Cal pulls an expression of exasperation. "Bloody crap mentor tha' I am."

She might not have killed Ariadne, or had anything, really, to do with it. But she had the deaths of her own family, and sixty eight others on her conscience.

"I don' care abou' the Capitol... bu' the sponsors are avoidin' 'em. So I figured, hide the cuffs an' people don' know. I'm wrappin' fabric round 'em, gluin' i' down, and makin' as many bracelets as I can like this to ge' everyone wearin' them as fashion."

She shows her own wrists; five bangles in clashing colours on one, and four on the other.

"Jack... I screwed up. Well... screwin' up means... well... you know. An' me family are dead - factory explosion an' I were... I were pissed in a bar an' he couldn' find me for their damn funeral."

Lies. All lies. But can she trust Eva now? She's shaking, but hopes to disguise it by pretending to shiver.

"He won' let me near a drop o' alcohol. I'm ter tell 'im when I'm out with Petraitus. I can' bloody live with his hate - an' I know it's bloody deserved, bu'... Jack's Jack."

"Oh."

Eva hadn't realized, about the explosion. She'd suspected it was to send a message to Calico, but she was locked in her own turmoil and couldn't spare it much thought. Now seeing the way Calico attempts a stiff upper lip is nearly enough to make her weep. It salts her stomach and makes her guts shrivel like worms on the pavement.

"Calico, I..."

How can she push Calico away now?

"I'm here for you. In spite of everything we've done."

"Wha'? Like tellin' the Capitol on me?" Calico snaps back immediately. But after a second of glaring at Eva, her shoulders sag and she looks away.

"'Cept you didn't, did you? I go' it all wrong as usual, an' I got my folk murdered for it."

It's the first time she's said that out loud. She closes her eyes, letting the words sink in. They hurt, burn their way onto the back of her eyelids, so when she blinks, she sees an orangey echo, as red as her hair, of 'murderer'. Her face, usually so pale, has a greenish tinge at the edges now, and she wears the expression of one fighting the urge to vomit. She's shaking still, not even trying to disguise it.]

"I ain't allowed out now - never. I can't even go an' see their graves. An' that FUCKIN' fool of a Jack finks I were bloody pissed in a bar an' don' give one. An' he's so fuckin' far up the Capitol's butt I can' even - an' bloody hell. Look - Eva. I be' you knew all of this anyway. I be' you were havin' a righ' laugh at me locked in that DAMN white room again. Readin' the bloody stories they churned out 'ere. But I... I... look, I'm sorry, alrigh'? For smashin' your window. An' sayin' - well. I wish I hadn't."

EURGH! She HATES this place. She can't even say what she THINKS here any more, so sure is she that they're tracking her constantly. If it wasn't for Bobbin, she'd throw the towel in. But she's the only family he has now. And though chances of her ever seeing him are slim, she at least owes him his life. She is well and truly chained to the Capitol and she HATES it. She can't look at Eva though. She wishes, so much, that she could just hug her and cry on her and go spend a few nights at Eva's house, sobbing over silly films and chocolate. But... she's scared to trust the woman.

"Calico."

The word sound wrong. It sounds so professional, Calico's entire first name. The extra syllables at the end need too much space, necessitate a distance between them, so Eva tries again.

"Cal. I have never once laughed at you for being locked up. And I thought you'd know me well enough to know that I have much larger concerns to hold grudges over than a broken window."

Her arm twitches with the urge to reach over and put her hand to Calico's shoulder, but she doesn't allow herself to intrude. Not until Calico lets her.

"I thought I did know you, Evie-Bee. Bu' then - this all kicked off - an'... you were lying, weren't you? I see it now - but bloody hell, you had me so scared you'd turned traitor. I figured you were gonna sell me down the river an' let 'em know all the stuff... I thought they were gonna kill me."

Cal shivers, still feeling the effects of Penny's tortures, when she'd begged for death to come to her.

"You di'n't though, did you? You didn't say a word."

That realisation once and for all settling in, Calico dropped her head into her hands. "Eva, I am so bloody sorry - for the broadcasts, for breakin' in - I know it were ridiculous - an' I'm payin' for it every day for the rest of my life. I can't even see their graves, make sure they're buried righ'. I don' have no-one, an' the crap that Jack's been sayin' - "

She sighs. She's in a right mess. But she paints that bright smile on anyway, and grins, as cheerily as she can at Eva. It's a question. What else is she supposed to do now?

"Cal," Eva says, repeating the nickname as if she's hammering strength into the bond between them, "you've done nothing I could sell you down the river for."

It's both for Cal's sake and for anyone listening that she says this. She hopes Cal gets the message - stop acting guilty - and that she's believed at face value.

"And you owe me no apologies." Her voice is firm, almost scolding. She's keenly reminded of why she had to push Calico away. "Although maybe you can help me break in my new window."

"There's cold comfort,", Cal snorts. But she does get the warning. She needs to shut up talking or else. She needs to watch what she says, and she needs to stop talking about her parents and District 8.

"Oh yeah? What d'you have in mind? House party? Naughty posin' in the window - though I reckon you'd scare people off doin' that! Or d'you want a pair o' curtains?"

"I could make very lewd comments about types of curtains and naughty posing." Eva raises an eyebrow, fiddling with a bishop on her chess board. "A nice evening to clear the air wouldn't be amiss, though."

Cal could make a comeback about those curtains... but she doesn't. The awkwardness she's been trying to swallow down threatens to overwhelm her, and she finds she can't look at Eva all over again.

"I - uh - I think we need that. I... yeah. Your place? I have a feelin' my room's completely infested, if yer get me drift? Though, sayin' that..."

But they need somewhere. "Your choice, Evie."

"As if mine isn't, after that little stunt I pulled on the network?" Eva purposefully makes it sound casual, as if it's not a blemish on her soul in the face of God. As if she only regrets the consequences that affected her, and not Ariadne.

"But you're welcome in my home."

"You've got a point there...One of these days, I'm gonna be gettin' some exterminators on them. Maybe not so soon though, eh?"

She thinks, purposely ignoring her thoughts about Ariadne and the network.

"We'll find a place. We need to talk, proper like. Eva, I need you ter tell me abou' it. I need to understand, because when they asked me questions - when that bloody bitch had me - I've go'a know, Eva. I gotta know what the hell was runnin' through your brain, so... so you don't do it to me, too."

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