littlebattles | IC contact for lastvoyages

[Huh.

June has, on the whole, not had much interest in hobnobbing with her fellow inmates. Most of them aren't the kind of people she has any interest in knowing, and even the ones who are can't really do anything for her. She's pleasant enough, of course, because New and Improved June is a pleasant person, but she doesn't seek them out. So one seeking her out is, to say the least, unexpected.]

I know who you are.

[And she well remembers what he did to Tris.]

Is the deck private enough?

I'd like somewhere with less warden traffic. [ But it is, all told, a preference. No persuasive weight behind it. ] But if that's where you're comfortable.

The greenhouse, then. It's big. There are quiet corners.

Do you have a favorite?

Over by the lemon trees.

Sure, I know it.

[ He spends some time in the greenhouse beforehand—it's Misty's place, Larry's, and despite looking like he's only familiar with plants that have been rolled into tumbleweeds, William knows his way around. He doesn't tend anything but he has favorites, plants he checks in on. The growing plot of dandelions and other relocated weeds. The path Misty's started on for the horses.

He's late to the lemon trees—only by a few minutes, a buffer for her to get her bearings. It's a secluded corner on a gentle hill. William strolls up, dressed like a bad omen, and takes a moment to regard the trees, the modest view. ]

Nice to meet you. [ He says, a touch wry. He's soft-spoken, his posture relaxed, but there's an intensity to his gaze that doesn't really abate. ] Does this remind you of somewhere?

I like Earth plants.

[She says, with a small smile.]

Earth fruits. It's funny the things you don't realize you miss until you think about how you'll never see them again.

[Nothing about that answer is strictly untrue, but it's also not anything close to the full story. His responses to both her suggestions - the place where he'd murdered someone, and the place where his warden works - had been more accommodating than she'd expected, but that doesn't exactly put her at ease. He reminds her of herself, a bit, and she's never really liked operating around people who do that.]

So, William.

[The smile stays, light but with a touch of wryness.]

I feel a little like a character in an old spy movie. What's up?

[ He looks at her, this woman who'd shown up under an assumed name and immediately gone about infiltrating the ranks of the opposition, and raises an eyebrow. Good-natured. Then he sits, smoothing the grass with a hand and keeping that thought more or less to himself. ]

I'm old-fashioned. [ William says to her question, deadpan. The words spun out into a slow drawl. After a few seconds he relents, raising his eyes to hers. His gaze is direct, probing. ] I try not to do anything important over the network.

It's about Blanky. [ He shrugs a shoulder—even that isn't casual. ] What's he like?

Thomas?

[She asks, surprised. Whatever she might have been expecting here, it hadn't been that.]

He's... nice. Accommodating.

[Not as much as she'd hoped he'd be, but possibly still enough for her to work with.]

[ His expression—if she's paying very close attention—smooths into deliberate neutrality, though his eyes don't leave hers. Though inwardly he recoils, thinking of the man's offer to wine and dine Lawrence. Picturing the drunken luster to his eyes.

He gives her room to go on. When she doesn't, he asks: ] Are you afraid of him? [ The question, the study he makes of her, both candid. ]

[Her immediate reaction is one of disbelief - Are we talking about the same Thomas Blanky? - but the deadly serious look on William's face gives her pause. Clearly there's something she doesn't know here - and maybe, if she swings this right, it'll be something she can use as leverage.]

Doesn't every inmate have reason to fear the wardens at least a little bit? Our lives are in their hands. But if there's something you think I should know about Thomas...

[ It's reassuring not to get a kneejerk no, a never. He's not that bad. He has the sense, too, he's being lead—funny to hear someone who's held herself apart from other inmates speaking on their behalf.

So he holds off. ]

I was wondering if anything's changed. Now that Harry's... [ William spreads his hands, palms up. The gesture wry: a magician revealing a whole lot of nothing. The next moment any trace of amusement vanishes. Thoughtful and crisp: ] It occurred to me he might have been keeping him in check.

[Could this guy have handed her a better gift today? June thinks not.]

I--

[She hesitates, then injects just a little bit of cautious, unconfident concern into her tone.]

He has seemed a little off-kilter. But he hasn't actually done anything that makes me worry he's seriously unstable, and I don't want to sound paranoid.

[Starting a full-blown crusade against Thomas would be premature. All she wants now is to lay the groundwork, in case she needs to do something more drastic in the future.]

[ William cocks his head. His curiosity open, genuine.

Plenty of room for it, since she's avoided most of his questions. ] Do you have anyone you trust?

No.

[And that, at least, is wholly and completely true.]

Just myself.

[ He nods, taking that in. Deliberates a moment. ] A friend of mine was attacked. He got on the network about it and Blanky wasted no time in arranging to fuck him. [ There is, of course, the matter of Lawrence being willing: things he'd told William about feeling real and wanted.

Maybe it's the thoughtlessness. Maybe the offer of food and drink, the spoils of being a warden used as an enticement. And he would like to hurt someone dear to Harry. William has no illusions about that. ] I wouldn't mind ruining him. [ It's matter-of-fact. He doesn't linger over it. ]

What'd it take? Pretending to be one of them.

It wasn't hard. Most of them will believe what you tell them if they have no reason to think you're not one of them. But I didn't fuck my way to trustworthiness, and I don't plan on fucking my way to graduation.

[And here, she thinks, is the part where she can maybe let a bit more slip. They're speaking privately. William (probably) isn't recording this conversation. She doesn't doubt for a second that he'd screw her over if it suited him, but he doesn't seem the type to screw her over just for fun. And if she's wrong... well. He won't be able to prove anything. He's a murderer. She's nonviolent. From what she's seen of him in passing on the network, he's sullen at best and argumentative at worst. She's friendly and helpful.

She thinks she could turn them all against him if she decided to try.]

There are things in my file I don't want him to tell anyone about. He hasn't done anything yet.

[She lets the implications hang in the air, wondering if William will pick up on them. She doesn't want to ruin Thomas. But if he outs her, if he tries to ruin her life, she's willing to. And everything William is telling her now feels like some very plausible, potentially useful ammo.]

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