2010-02-16: Fix It



Date: February 16, 2010


Elle offers the other prisoners some sage advice.

"Fix It"

Prisoner Barracks - Building 27

Crisp, cold sunlight pours in through the windows in the prisoner barracks. The television in the corner is turned on, low, and displays a ceaseless loop of the same breaking news stories on CNN, or Fox News, or whichever slant the prisoner in charge of the remote feels more predisposed toward. For nearly a month now, one particular prisoner has been in this building, wherever it may be; she's only been moved to the barracks less than a week ago. For the most part she stays to herself, except when the conversation of others pulls her in, such as the most recent one with Nathan, and his pseudo-inspirational speech. Fat lot of good that's done, as Alexandra continues to spend her time mostly silent, mostly alone, looking out a window conveniently aimed right at a tall wall; still no chance to know where they are. In the presence of Delta Solution, she's felt like a shell of herself, and combined with the recurring dreams, she's had guilt and little else on her mind.

Strange to be on the other side of the captor-captive relationship, and something Elle Bishop will never quite get used to. Absently touching the blinking collar around her neck, Elle moves into the room at a slow pace, a wary look fixed permanently on her face. She has been similarly silent, uncertain who to trust, all too familiar with the tricks often played by the other side. She doesn't need any incognito spies overhearing her lamentations. She also doesn't need any friends. Arms crossed, she leans a shoulder against the wall, looking towards the television without any particular interest. Yes, they are a lively bunch here in the barracks, today.

For the past couple hours, KeLyssa Gallagher has just sat, watching the television with a half-empty stare. Does she care what's happening on the outside anymore? No…not really. It's been a while since she's cared. All she's really concerned about now is if she'll ever be able to leave this place. Whether she'll be able to see her family again. All she can think about is if any of the rest of her life will consist of anything more than wandering these halls, day after day.

Tired of being here, tired of being totally separated from her life, Alexandra finally decides to do what she's been wanting to do for a few days. The barracks common room has a few large potted plants, and various smaller ones scattered about. It's clearly AP's opportunity to spread some cheer, some habitability and softness to the room. They're those big leafy ferns, the kinds that can go without being watered forever, which ironically seems to fit AP's attitude in prisoner care. "Argh, I can't stand this!" she grumbles, and makes for one of those clay pots. Scooping up a handful of the fresh, brown potting soil, she takes it to a table and starts to muck around with it like sand, like a child.

Only when Alexandra speaks does Elle allow her attention to be drawn. To say this is the most interesting reaction she has seen to captivity would be a lie, but it's at least more interesting than the same news stories on loop. Arching a brow, she watches Alexandra get her hands dirty but says nothing, despite the amusement on her face. It's a sardonic sort of amusement, regardless; the kind warranting a snide remark, if she were inclined to speak.

KeLyssa blinks, being drawn by Alexandra's voice as well. "You…" She blinks again, watching Alex work. "Yer gettin' yer hands dirty. What if ya ruin yer nails?" Yes, because a person's nail care is of the utmost concern in a place like this. "Ya should be more careful. Nails don't clean 'emselves, ya know. Ya gotta be reeeeaaal careful ta not get 'em dirty, else ya might gotta go ta give 'em a manicure. An' manicures ain't as cheap as they used ta be. Ya can't jus' go willynilly an' get 'em all the time none."

"I really don't think we're going to be getting manicures anytime soon. Besides, I already tore them all the shit on the walls in my night terrors. It hardly matters at this point." Normally, Alex wouldn't give two shits about getting dirty since the stuff has a curious habit of separating itself from her body should she will it. Of course, all hopped up on Delta juice, that's not going to happen. Regardless, she just trucks along, shaping it into mounds, flatting it out on the table, doodling loops and patterns in it with her fingertip. For the first time in a few days, the simple act of playing with stupid dirt brings a teeny tiny smile to her lips.

Alright, now Elle is inclined to speak, and her tone is just as snippy as it would have been before, if not moreso. She shifts her gaze to KeLyssa, snorting in derision at the girl's remarks. "Really? Manicures?" Shifting her position somewhat, Elle tips her head back against the wall, heaving a sigh. "And you were scary enough for them to lock up with…" What? Someone like her? She doesn't finish the thought. "I don't get it."

"Ya never know when a manicure is gonna come runnin' yer way. It's always a mystery'n a half!" KeLyssa responds with a firm nod. Looks like she's trying to be optimistic again. She nods at Elle. "Oh, yes'm. Manicures are all the rage these days. Mayhaps not 'round 'bout these parts. But outside these here walls, people keep on truckin' an' keep on gettin' 'em." She smiles brightly. Elle's second comment gets her frowning though. "I don't got no clue why they locked me up. I ain't never done no harm ta no one. Well…'cept when they was bringin' me in. I accidentally shot ice at what's-her-face. One've the ones who brought me in."

On the subject of what she did to garner admittance to such an exclusive little club, Alex remains silent. Her crime isn't nearly as innocent as KeLyssa's, and she knows it. She knows it really well. It's all a matter of perspective; while she was content with what she did before, she's been shown the other side of the matter, and it hasn't agreed well with her. Perhaps that makes her the least-likely candidate, but strangely enough, she mutters out the conclusion to Elle's statement. "…people like me," she mutters under her breath. Clearly Alex has no idea who Elle is, but she certainly remembers what she did that night. "I know why they locked me up," she adds, flatly.

Should she feel reassured that she was enough of a threat for them to put her down so quickly she had no chance of fighting back? Or should Elle feel annoyed that this bimbo-minded child got a hit in - by accident - when she couldn't do the same in her own capture? "If you can say that, it means they're not going to let you out," she says to Alex unapologetically, rolling her shoulders. "So why'd they lock you up?"

If she'd heard that thought, KeLyssa would have gotten all defensive, saying she was no bimbo-minded child. That being said, she stares at Elle and Alexandra. "I think they're 'fraid o' us. They're 'fraid o' what we kin do. It don' matter what we've done or could do. It really don't. They're more afraid o' what we kin do than what people 'thout abilities kin do. They don' care tha' a doctor kin kill durin' surgery or tha' a person with a gun kin kill jus' as readily as a person who kin shoot ice outta their hands."

Alex answers Elle's question without turning her attention from her teeny tiny sandbox there on the table. "I killed their soldiers. While rescuing other captives." When she says it, she can feel the sickness, something like a need to vomit bubbling up in her throat; the idea of drugged hooded kids being kept prisoner still doesn't sit well with her. But then, there is the other side as well, the families of those soldiers and their kids too. "And to a lesser extent, property destruction about two months ago, when I caused a tremor in Greenwich Village." Leaving that thought almost supports KeLyssa's explanation, about the terrifying potential some folks seem to have.

"Sounds about right." Whether Elle is surprised or not by Alexandra's admission is hard to tell. Her expression is unreadable. "They don't take very kindly to people busting in and trying to spring their 'captives.'" Pushing away from the wall, she looks to KeLyssa, shaking her head. "It's not the same as someone with a gun. It's not even close. What some of them can do goes way beyond anything you can imagine." And Elle can see where they're coming from in wanting to lock them up, though she doesn't admit to it.

KeLyssa crosses her arms. "Well, there ain't nothin' wrong with freein' nobody who don't deserve it none." She says firmly. Though of course, she doesn't know the whole story. "Ya'd be surprised 'bout what I kin imagine that people kin do, ya'd better b'lieve." Of course, she may regret saying that in the future. "Obviously Miss 'Ruin My Nails' here kin do something with the ground ifin she caused tremors. Well…that an' in that dream I had with her look-alike she did a bunch o' stuff with the ground and stuff. Mighty curious stuff." She frowns and shrugs. "What kin you do, then?" She asks of Elle.

That is an interesting question. Alexandra knows what she can do (so far), and apparently KeLyssa can shoot ice or freeze stuff. What can this other stoic-looking blonde do? For the moment, at least, she stops playing with her dirt, and looks to Elle for the answer. While she looks, something Cody said comes to mind: weapons of mass destruction. Human weapons of mass destruction. Is Elle one as well?

"What can I do?" Elle knew the question was coming. It was probably coming even before she started prying into the others' abilities. Now, however, the previously aloof captive shifts in a vaguely uncomfortable manner. "It doesn't matter. I'm dangerous. They know it, I know it. They locked me up for a good reason." The remark is left hanging, as if there was something else to add that she keeps to herself. "What I'm not getting is why they didn't just kill me," she adds after a moment, looking back to the television.

KeLyssa frowns. "That ain't no answer. That's avoidin' the answer an' we all know it!" She younger blonde says, tilting her head. "But I suppose if ya don' wanna tell us…there're other ways o' findin' out. Ya don' gotta tell us fer us ta find out. It'd be easier ifin ya told us, though. Ain't like we're gonna judge ya fer it!" Well, she's not, anyway.

"To give the illusion of justice. To turn you into scapegoats. To turn your victims into martyrs. Pick a reason. Pick all of them for all I care," Alexandra sulks, answering Elle's perhaps rhetorical question. "If she doesn't want to tell, maybe it's for good reason. Sometimes I wish people didn't know what I could do, then they wouldn't have caught me." Yeah, it's not everyday earthquakes strike the AP train AND Greenwich Village when one particular petite brunette is around.

"Oh, they would've caught you." Settling her back against the wall once more, Elle adopts a faint smirk, returning her attention to Alexandra. "Don't ask me how. But if they're anything like I think they are, they have their ways. They could know about you even before you do." To KeLyssa, she adds: "You don't know anything about me. Maybe you would judge what I've done."

KeLyssa shakes her head at everything. "This is jus' all a bunch o' useless jibberjabberin' talk. None o' it matters none at all! What's done or not done, how they did or didn' do things. None o' it matters." She glances at Alex. "Well, it's like she says," she nods toward Elle, "They might've caught ya anyways. I hadn't told nigh on too many people 'bout me. I ain't seen none of those people here. So they must have their ways o' findin' out who kin do stuff like we kin." She says softly. Looking to Elle now, she says, "Ya don' know that I'd judge ya. Ya don'. Maybe I wouldn't."

"I might…I don't know. This place is changing me, and I don't like it. Not at all." Of course, anyone who's bunked anywhere near her knows all about that. It's been just about a month since she was captured, and about two weeks since the night terrors started in earnest. There hasn't been a good night since then, and that's terribly unusual for her. "It does matter though…it does. I can't take it back, but I can't say it doesn't matter at all!" Alex responds, slamming a fist down on top of that little hill of dirt.

Unflinching even as the woman strikes the table, Elle can only shake her head at the display. "It doesn't. It's done. They got you, you're here, get over it," she says, though her tone is hardly the uplifting and reassuring tone one might want in a fellow captive. "All you can do is live right now. So if that means whining about how things could have been different, go for it, but if it really matters that much that you were caught? Fix it." And with that, Elle pushes away from the wall, giving a final look to KeLyssa as she does before she heads down the hallway to her room.

KeLyssa shakes her head, turning back to the TV. Really, she said what she could say, and what else is there? No. Watching the news will have to do. What else is there?

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