queenofheartsrp | six. [video]

[ Caprica has been back in the Gardens for four days now, without any contact with anyone except for Epsilon. The more time passes, the easier she finds it to keep her distance. Without other things to occupy her mind, however, it's more difficult to distract herself from thoughts of Gaius and D'Anna, or of Hera and what will happen to her on Galactica. A small part of her takes some strength, some clarity and focus from the pain, the bitterness and anger and guilt and worry. She is used to bearing a weight like this alone. The majority of her sibling Cylons would not understand, and no human in her world would want or care to understand. And in any case, it is solely hers to bear and she would not ask someone else to take it on.

The uncertainty, on the other hand, is wearing at her. Protecting Hera had been a certainty, something she had held to desperately in an instant of understanding that this was what God wanted from her, that the future of the Cylon race rested with one little girl. And if there is something Caprica has always wanted — despite everything — it has been to safeguard her people. Now that that has been taken away from her, she is left foundering in the lack of surety. Should she try to go back to the way things were before she left the Gardens, or try to continue to maintain her distance from the others? The women here, after all, have done her no wrong. But she still remembers her own words — I gave your people a chance, and for what? I'm a Cylon, Gaius. I lost sight of that. And the jagged wound in her heart is still fresh enough, the bitterness still deep enough. Love wasn't enough to bridge the gap.

The Vine seems to have its own ideas, however. Caprica is in the kitchen, having poured herself a full glass of ambrosia — she is quite resolutely avoiding the upstairs bedroom, which echoes with ghosts of old memories she wants to avoid even more than usual — when the plant sneaks across the floor and winds a tendril of itself rather forwardly around her wrist. She gasps a little, startled, and almost drops her glass. Her hands steady a moment later, and she regards the Vine briefly, considering. Then she lets out a breath and touches it gently with slim fingers, watching the mirror unfurl. It's a moment, as she turns the glass of alcohol between her fingers as if in thought, before she speaks. ]

The Queen must have seen fit to let me go home for a little while.

[ And that really is all she's going to say on that particular subject, her voice a little dry before she goes back to a more relaxed tone — a bit more distant than her usual, but not what one would call unfriendly. She keeps her eyes on the mirror when she speaks, despite every temptation to let the focus of her gaze go elsewhere. ]

I'm surprised this place is still here — the house. That it didn't disappear.

[ It might have been easier if it had; she wouldn't have recreated it. Caprica moves away from the kitchen proper to the dining table, sits down in one of the high-backed chairs, settling her ambrosia on the table with a clink of glass on glass. ]

I suppose it's become part of the Gardens in its own way.

[ There are things that a considerable part of her would very much like to do, like apologize, or ask after Jackie and Dominique. She is very careful not to do either one. Her expression is carefully reserved; only someone who knows her would recognize the sea of emotion roiling underneath that fine veneer of polite detachment. ]

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[ After Jackie and Dom moved to the Monsigny's apartment building, Sasha had forgotten all about Caprica's old house. She never really felt attachment to a place, even if it was a nice house, lots of lights. Had coffee, too, that was essential.

But lately she had been kind of out of it and in the end, Dot wanted her around (http://queenofheartsrp.livejournal.com/209161.html) and Sasha wasn't going to say no. So after that episode, she had talked to Jackie (http://queenofheartsrp.livejournal.com/209161.html?thread=17523209#t17523209), and because she didn't want her to "come and get her", she had planned to go to her and just say she was still alive. Because of that, she realize she had left her little coffee mug back at Caprica's and she needed it back, even if it was only because it is one of the few things she considers hers for whatever odd reason.

Of course, she thought it would be empty, so she doesn't worry much when she walks in uninvited. She hardly bothered in cleaning up after the rough-housing at Dot's, so her hair is still all over the place, messy, and she probably should at least wash her face. She was going to, in fact, before she met Jackie. Didn't want her asking questions. Alas, she won't, because when she walks into the kitchen, she stops, frozen in place, eyes meeting Caprica. She remembers her, vaguely. Screamed and ran off like the scrawny rat she is when she first got there. Her eyes glance over the old mug in the sink after a bit - it's nothing special, but it's hers.

Sasha swallows dryly and twists her hands in one another. ]

Ah, I'm, I'm s-sorry, I didn't, d-didn't know y-you were he-here, s-so, hm. [ Lisp and stuttering, that's wonderful. She scratches at her wrists and takes a tiny step back, eyes back to the floor. ] I can, g-go, I didn't m-mean to interrupt you.

Edited 2011-05-31 04:48 (UTC)

[ Caprica isn't expecting someone to just walk into the house like that, and she turns a little sharply, caught off guard. After a moment, she relaxes; she recognizes this woman, a little, though it takes a second before she remembers just why. Sasha had been terrified of her, when they'd first met, and she doesn't seem in much better shape now, even if Caprica hasn't done anything threatening. She looks bloodied, scratched up, and there's a little flicker of concern through Caprica's gaze despite herself.

She is very still as Sasha apologizes, and it would probably be easier just to let her leave. But Caprica does not generally do things because they are easier, and in any case she should at least find out why the other woman is here. ]

You're not interrupting me. Did you need something?

[ Her tone of voice is not unfriendly, but it's lacking the warmth she would normally display. It's more as if she's intentionally trying to keep herself as detached and uninvolved as possible. ]

[ That is fine by her - the distance, the apparent lack of concern in her voice. It makes her more at ease than a person who would be overly eager to help. She always suspect those will break her the hardest. Always paranoid, the scrawny rat (or stray kitty, depending on how you see it and who you are, really).

Her gaze meets Caprica's for half a second, and she quickly averts her eyes, as if the mere action of looking at the woman would start conflict. ]

Hum, I, I left my m-mug here. [ She swallows dry again, and frowns, scratching her forehead in distress, rubbing her fingers over her eyebrow. ] I just-- I c-came to pick it up. [ She's talking a little slower, straining herself to bite back the lisp and the stutter. There's an awkward pause and she shifts around nervously, clenching her fingers around the strap of her backpack, her other hand wiping nervously at the corner of her broken and bruised lip. It hurts a little when she does it but she doesn't even wince, too nervous in the presence of such an imposing figure. ] If that's okay?

[ Caprica watches her, watches the small nervous movements of her body, the tension in the way she holds herself. Her first impulse is to affect a reassuring demeanor, try and calm Sasha down, but she doesn't — and, after all, she remembers that didn't work terribly well the first time.

When she mentions the mug, Caprica glances over, catching sight of the old thing sitting in the sink. It wasn't hers, but she hadn't really thought about questioning where it had come from. Reaching out, she picks it up, rinses it out, hands it wordlessly to Sasha.

The way the other woman rubs at the corner of her mouth draws Caprica's eyes to it, and she notices the cuts and bruises there, the injuries only aggravated by Sasha's nervous fussing. Her lips purse a little, and though she doesn't reach out to touch, she can't not say something. ]

You're bleeding. [ Soft-voiced, and maybe there's a little concern there, hidden underneath the facade. ]

[ The silence can grow uncomfortable when Sasha is near, with her jumpy self always looking around as if to make sure she isn't attacked from the shadows.

She doesn't quite look at Caprica when she rinses the mug , but she hears her coming closer so she tenses up. From her five-feet-two (which are actually five-feet-four, but she slouches so bad and always has her head down that it looks like she's that shorter) Caprica looks towering and she can't help but to flinch just slightly when she's near. She takes the mug, mutters a nervous thank you and presses it against her chest, like it's something valuable.

But then she's addressing her wounds and Sasha brings her hand again to her face, fingers touching her bruised cheekbone. She is, she didn't wash it off at the monster house because she hadn't wanted to spend more time there, but she figures she should before she meets Jackie. ]

Hum, yes, I'm, I'm okay. [ She looks at Caprica for a fleeting moment, then it's back to stare at her hands. ] She, D-Dot, hum, she l-likes it better this, this way. [ A tiny shrug, and she's squeezing her hands against the mug as if it's a stress ball. ]

I-I need to m-meet, hum, Jackie? [ She's knows Caprica knows Jackie. She may be what and how she is, but hardly any details fly by Sasha. She was, after all, an informant. Knowing things that do no concern her are basically what she does to keep herself alive. ] Do you mind if I w-wash my f-face, before I go?

[ That does make Caprica frown a little, the expression she was suppressing earlier; the impression that anyone would enjoy leaving someone like that makes her stomach twist a little. She had missed the Vine recording or else she might have understood what Sasha is talking about; as it is, the idea that there's a sexual element involved hasn't quite yet occurred to her.

The mention of Jackie makes her tense a little, visibly. Yes, Caprica knows her. More than that, a little. The reminder of her presence brings up a swell of mixed emotion that Caprica has to consciously suppress, for now.

Instead, she nods at the question. ] The bathroom is down the hall. [ A slight gesture in that direction, and then she pauses. ] I have bandages, if you like.

[ That's okay for Sasha, though, people who pity her make her uncomfortable, but then again, people make her uncomfortable, period. Dot is a monster and she is used to deal with that, with violence and sex and being thrown around and her self-destructive nature tells her that it's soothing to be in that comfort zone, even if there's a lot of blood. ]

I know. [ Whispered, like she doesn't want to impose. She scratches her arm nervously, flickering eyes up at her before nodding one last time. ]

T-That would be, hum, yeah-- [ She squeezes the mug. ] If you c-could spend some, hum, b-bandages. [ That would make her a bit more presentable for Jackie, at least. ]

six. [video]

action. ( UWAAAH i hope this is okay )

action. (IT IS FINE poor sasha T__T)

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