Le Radeau de la Méduse, 1818

Ellie Carter

She knows she must look like a crazy old hag right now. At least it's just Akemi, who isn't so far off in age (chat she doesn't know), who is seeing her look so pathetic. She looks down at the ground, stabbing it with the tip of her shoe.

She doesn't disagree, but she doesn't know if she has anything to add. It would feel meaningless even if she did.

"What now? How long will they be gone?"

Emmy | Akemi

What now? That was certainly a question. One she had been asking from the moment that man's heart stopped beating. The answer hadn't yet revealed itself to her, and she felt increasingly doubtful it ever would.

"I wish I knew." She said finally. "I suppose the only answer is to wait and see. Unfortunately, I am lacking in flowery stickers to offer any sage advice. And the 'art club' you proposed would be…difficult given the restraints."

She finds a small bundle of fabric in another box and hesitates again. She brushes her fingers against it, gauging the likely low quality of it.

"If there is any pattern to their movements, we will likely be left for our own devices for several days, before we are again subjected to those horrid projections."

Ellie Carter

"God, do they have to take so long? I've been going insane! I'm so fuckin' bored! I could probably still try art—"

She tries to demonstrate worming one arm behind her back to give more slack in the restraints and reach further with the other. She wiggles her hand, turning to face Akemi and forgetting about her eye for a moment with her newfound success. She gives a tired laugh.

"Hah! I'm flexible for my age, you know."

Emmy | Akemi

"Well, I'm certain their intention is not for us to have 'fun' during any of this. If you'd like to search for appropriate supplies, to see if such a project is even possible, be my guest."

She pulls some black fabric out of the box and looks it over. Then, frowning, she reaches into the basic manicure kit and produces the nail trimmers. Was this really what she had been reduced to? She frowns and tests to see if the nail clippers can even cut into this thin fabric.

"I suppose there are plenty of artists out there who utilize more than just their hands to make marks." Not that she was eager to be among them. "You speak as though you are one foot from the grave, age-wise."

Ellie Carter

"Well, I've actually got all two feet in the grave. Due to the 'we're all dead theory,' in case you forgot."

She shakes her finger, still twisting the other arm behind her back. She's half joking. She still thinks this, but it's mostly just said to be funny.

"But I've been pretty surprised everyone is so young here! Murder should really be reserved for your mid-life crisis. How can it not make gals like us feel old? 'specially when they take my eyepatch. Fuckers. Makin' me feel blind again."

She really thinks Akemi is in her young-to-mid thirties.

Emmy | Akemi

"Mm, of course. Quite an impossibility to forget. Though I suppose the cynic in me would prefer to think dying leads to an endless black void rather than any kind of afterlife, as amusing as the thought of my uncle burning in hell may be."

She raises an eyebrow at the 'gals like us' quip. They had never shared their ages, had they?

"And how old do you believe I am, Ms. Carter?"

She begins to tear some of the fabric she found into thin strips.

Ellie Carter

She looks at Akemi, squinting with both eyes now.

"Like… thirty-three?"

She also glances at the fabrics, trying not to assume some grand kindness will come out of Akemi's idle hands.

Emmy | Akemi

Someone more insecure than her would likely feel insulted, but Akemi looked nonplussed. She was well aware of how she looked, she had never put a great deal of effort into concealing the tired look she had grown into. She didn't really care, anyway.

"24." She says flatly. "Perhaps my appearance is an indication of what it was like dealing with my uncle for as long as I have."

She roughly rips a few larger pieces of cloth, clearly a little more practiced with this than she would ever let on. It looks like she's just ripping a pile of rags.

Ellie Carter

Maybe Akemi is just ripping cloth because she's angry. Mood. Ellie closes her eyes— well, mostly closes the fucked left one— and then turns around and walks away.

…

And then she comes back after leaving around the corner for a second. She's so dramatic.

"Fuuuuuck. Nooooo! I thought you were a total baddie babe! What the fuuuuck. You're Snickers' age?!"

Emmy | Akemi

Akemi pauses from her fabric ripping to stare at Ellie in abject bafflement at her words. Whether that bafflement was for the literal meaning of what Ellie said or the sentiment of it was anyone's guess.

"…pardon?"

So she and Kaoru were the same age? Concerning.

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news."

Ellie Carter

"I'm just sayin' I thought you were hot, girl! You gotta stop callin' me Ms. Carter now. I thought it was cute you were so formal but now it's just painful. It's juuuust Ellie, please please please."

She clasps her hands together to beg her.

Emmy | Akemi

Akemi stares again, as if waiting for the punchline of a joke. When it doesn't arrive, moreover when Ellie demands to be on a first name basis, her expression shifts from confusion, to disbelief, to something resembling embarrassment. She is uncharacteristically flustered. What the hell.

"……"

There's a beat of silence while she takes all that in. She's…just gonna pack away whatever the hell that is into a box and cram it in some neglected corner of her brain for later processing. After successfully forcing a more neutral expression onto her face, Akemi resumes her mangling of this fabric, using nail clippers to make little holes around the perimeter of the larger torn scraps.

"………….I see. If you insist, Ellie."

Ellie Carter

She's not even thinking of the first name basis in a cultural way. She's just going to die if Akemi keeps calling her Ms. now knowing she's about a decade younger than previously guessed. She claps her hands, at least still able to bring them together in front of herself. She's a bit delighted at Akemi's reaction. It's cute.

"Yay! Okay, and for the record, I'm totally twenty-six."

Emmy | Akemi

"Of course." She pans, "I see no reason to assume otherwise."

She takes the longer sections of fabric and begins to twist them into something resembling a cord.

"…so, are you also hearing voices after these verdicts?"

Ellie Carter

Ellie is so good at compartmentalizing things. She's been pushing all those voices to the back of her mind, but her thoughts have never quite sounded like this.

"You hear that shit? Is that real? I just thought my ass was just haunted. What are they saying to you?"

Emmy | Akemi

"Things I already knew to be true. That I had no choice and I did what I had to."

She frowns. She too was good at compartmentalizing, but she didn't like not having control. She makes some folds in her cloth scraps, lining two scraps together and forcing the thin cord through the roughly cut holes in the fabric. It almost looked like she was sewing.

"As 'affirming' as they seem, they're irritating. And loud. What are they saying to you?"

Ellie Carter

Ellie looks at Akemi work, not quite ready to assume what's going on and risk being wrong in such a cringe and embarrassing way. But it's melting her heart a little.

"Oh, just that I'm a stalker freak and a delusional bitch playing pretend pirate. Not so affirming."

Some are saying she's fucking cool. But are those voices or just her own opinion about what she did. Maybe. It's all so weird. Should she talk to Robert about this?

Emmy | Akemi

Akemi has, meanwhile, not said a singular word about what she's doing. She has no desire to call any attention to it, hence her continuation of talking about the insane voices in their head as a distraction.

"This feels like a form of torture regardless of whether we are forgiven or not. I would rather not be constantly barraged by strange voices calling my uncle a 'bitch' or referring to me as a 'girlboss'. It feels almost ironic, as if it is supposed to make my doubt my decision. Stalker and pretend-pirate, hm? It's all so uninspired."

Ellie Carter

Ellie loses her shit at Akemi saying the word girlboss, laughing through the rest. She clutches her stomach

"Ahahahahahaha! You totally are a girlboss though!! Honestly, are they stupid—" if they're even a they, it just sort of slips out of her mouth.

"It's like these voices think my victims were you guys, not the— oh well, you weren't there— I was told that I apparently had a bunch of murder plans for the wardens in my head. Except the wardens were Walter. And then the wardens killed you guys. Well, the inmates who entered my projection. Not you."

She's becoming less dejected, anger replacing the discomfort she had. But that doesn't mean she's making a lot of sense in her ranting.

"I told them to just ask me if they had questions!! Did the wardens ever try to get my point of view?! Nope! They're just scared. Fucking cowards."

Emmy | Akemi

Akemi remained somewhat unaware of what was so funny about what she had said-- she wasn't familiar with all these strange terms. Was this some American thing?

"I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with the sentiment." She comments.

She raises an eyebrow.

"Just what happened during your projection?"

The anger is rather quickly matched at the question, as Akemi's brows lower.

"They're cowards. They could have outright asked a lot of questions. Instead, all we get is 'do you have anything to say?' And then we're strapped to a chair and have our minds utterly invaded, with no ability to control who sees, nor to control what they see. Surely they understand how grossly violating that is. But because it's their job, they act like they're the victims for needing to carry it out on us lowly criminals."