Mostly they leave Nine alone. They take her out for testing, maybe to see if Bharaputra's claims hold water, but the thought holds only tired cynicism for her and no bitterness. Nine doesn't expect much else these days.
Except from the awkward boy, as she's come to think of him. Though really he doesn't seem that young-- the more she sees him the more she starts to think he must be around her actual age. Nine starts to feel embarrassed about the state she's in, with someone whose opinion she actually cares about looking in on her as she eats, so she uses her water ration one day to splash it across her face first and try to scrub at it, then her hands themselves, in the dark at night when the lights are dimmed so no one can see her and make jibes about the monster trying to look human.
She's not sure it makes a difference. She can't see herself in the wavering surface of the water, and morosely she can't imagine herself looking any more appealing, but... she at least wants to look less like a slovenly zoo animal. Or how she imagines zoo animals, anyway.
She still drinks the water after washing with it, because Nine can remember thirst like a spectre perched on her shoulder, waiting.
But she watches the comm installation with sharp, wondering eyes. No one actually talks to her. Her voice is creaky with disuse. The boy approaches when no one is around and says hello and that much alone makes her suddenly relieved that she tried to clean up a little because he's-- he's talking to her and she wishes so desperately she were like a real girl for this, but-- but he's talking to her anyway, and she's not a real girl. Which... is maybe better, because it's real.
"Hi," she whispers, scooting across the floor to sit directly next to the mic pick up and watch him through the fiberglass. Her gold eyes are as fixated as they were the last time, a little frightening in their intensity, really, but her voice is all caution and tentativeness.
no subject
Except from the awkward boy, as she's come to think of him. Though really he doesn't seem that young-- the more she sees him the more she starts to think he must be around her actual age. Nine starts to feel embarrassed about the state she's in, with someone whose opinion she actually cares about looking in on her as she eats, so she uses her water ration one day to splash it across her face first and try to scrub at it, then her hands themselves, in the dark at night when the lights are dimmed so no one can see her and make jibes about the monster trying to look human.
She's not sure it makes a difference. She can't see herself in the wavering surface of the water, and morosely she can't imagine herself looking any more appealing, but... she at least wants to look less like a slovenly zoo animal. Or how she imagines zoo animals, anyway.
She still drinks the water after washing with it, because Nine can remember thirst like a spectre perched on her shoulder, waiting.
But she watches the comm installation with sharp, wondering eyes. No one actually talks to her. Her voice is creaky with disuse. The boy approaches when no one is around and says hello and that much alone makes her suddenly relieved that she tried to clean up a little because he's-- he's talking to her and she wishes so desperately she were like a real girl for this, but-- but he's talking to her anyway, and she's not a real girl. Which... is maybe better, because it's real.
"Hi," she whispers, scooting across the floor to sit directly next to the mic pick up and watch him through the fiberglass. Her gold eyes are as fixated as they were the last time, a little frightening in their intensity, really, but her voice is all caution and tentativeness.