canon: utopia | re: starting a rewatch.

[have]

Strange time to start wanting me back. All of the talk of genetics, I guess.

[ She sways, shifting her weight from foot to foot. One hand stays raised, the pad of her thumb pressed to her bottom lip.

Then, in a tone that would be mean if she weren't genuinely curious: ] Miss me, did you?

Comments

[irl]

[ they don't ask questions — that's how this works; it's the process, the way it all fits together. ( you accept, bow your head, and keep your eyes to the floor. ) they're puppet who can see the strings, that's their curse.

he shrugs a shoulder, hands pocketed, buried deep in his hoodie. ]

Doesn't take much.

[have]

No, I suppose not.

[ Jessica's hand drops back to her side. Her whole frame still seems to sway, but her gaze is static, fixed on him. ]

You're new.

[irl]

[ new. complete with a tag yet to be ripped from fabrics sewn together by some small corporation outside of the far west that utilizes minimum wage as a source of power, operating out of a small building crowded with fear and the idea of poverty.

he watches the way she moves, his own eyes curious as they do. there's something about her that seems to scratch that part of his brain — the same part that comes by way of krista's voice, insisting he branch out. let someone in.

who is she? ]

You're not.

[ Elliot slides his hood from his face slowly, chin poised as she holds his attention — too many questions, no answers. ( start with a question. that's how it always begins, isn't it? the basest human interaction. ) ]

How long has it been?

[have]

Months.

[ A pause. She reassesses. ]

Years.

[ Months since she was last seen. Years since she was first seen. They're different answers to the same question. Her eyes flicker, tracing over newly revealed features. She is — sparse. Everything pared down for the sake of efficiency, for the sake of survival, her thinking narrow in that respect but broad when it comes to what is necessary to get by.

It's not an easy mold to break out of. (How do you hold a conversation when you're not on the run?) ]

Your story's just begun, hasn't it?

[irl]

They like to leave us guessing.

[ he isn't a fan of their spontaneity. he has a process, a method. lines of code are easier to comprehend than the innermost workings of the human brain. living through the eyes of another person, somehow that's easier — it isn't unlike what he does, himself, but the comparison is lost.

he avoids eye contact, breaking the trance her gaze appears to hold. he has to know her; she sees too much of him, simply by observing. it leaves him feeling small, trapped beneath her microscope. ]

Gotta start somewhere, man.