Nothing's Changed [Open]

[vissernone]

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.

Comments

[riptheseams]

"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?"

[vissernone]

"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."

[riptheseams]

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."

[vissernone]

"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."

[riptheseams]

"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."