-oo3- Eva Sparda

[sanctamater]

Curae leves loquuntur ingentes stupent, autem credula vitam spes fovet et melius cras fore semper dicit.*

This business of waiting for the madness to end is wearying. But sleep comes uneasily.

What I wouldn't give for a book.

[ooc note: *"Slight griefs talk, great ones are speechless (minor losses can be talked away, profound ones strike us

Comments

[theotokos]

Do you... ah.

Need anything?

[sanctamater]

Mm, no, dear. I'm simply feeling a little bored. There's little to be done for it, and besides, perhaps I'll need this time to think.

It's been a long while since I've been so idle, you know?

[theotokos]

Yeah, it looks like this is killing all four of us.

[sanctamater]

Well, it shouldn't be much longer, right?

It's a war of attrition-- the people kept here, against whoever it is who keeps us.

IN PERSON

[vaterunser]

[Because Vergil's a busy body and sees nearly everything that happens on the network, he doesn't miss his mother's post. Of course not, unfortunately.

So it's without little ceremony he reaches next to the bed, over to the desk, and picks up a notebook. It's heavy, hard-backed, and already showing signs of wear and tear from much use. And then he holds it out to Eva.]

Here. It's not a bodice-ripper, but it may give you a clearer picture of things.

[sanctamater]

[She had expected mocking, perhaps-- or ignoring outright-- from her eldest; his kind gesture catches his mother a little off-guard, though she offers him only a puzzled smile before she looks over the cover, feeling the weight of the notebook in her hands.]

I've never really been one for bodice-rippers. But what is it?

[She asks, but she's already opened the cover and begun glancing over it with lidded eyes. A notebook-- she'd know her son's handwriting even if he hadn't posted on the network with it--, and observations. So many observations. A bit of shorthand is indecipherable to her, but the majority of the book is legible and, on top of that, useful. She wonders, briefly and with a little guilt, if he knows what she's planning-- and then she dismisses the thought and looks back at him, a tentative softness in her gaze so subtle it was as if she hadn't put it there at all.]

Thank you, dear.

[vaterunser]

[No mocking there. He's focused and serious and forming a plan to pull Steph away from kicking Robin's body and possibly in the room with them, though he wonders if that's a good idea. Eva's here, after all, and Steph could pose a possible threat until she calms.

Conundrum.]

If nothing else, it will give you an idea of who to avoid.

[sanctamater]

[She nods, lips tightening into a line as she looks down at the book. She turns the first page, eyes sailing over the paper with the ease of a scholar; she plans to pick up the important bits and use them to establish herself once this is done. Then, she'll finally stop being a burden on her sons and become self-sufficient. She hopes. It will be harder than it is on paper, but she knows it needs doing-- the way things are now is an uneasy truce and is killing her inside.

His handwriting's a lot like Sparda's was-- very clear, neat. It was like that from childhood, she remembers-- Dante's huge scrawl, Vergil's somewhat exacting lettering--, and then she stops herself. It won't make things easier.]

How long have you been working on this...?

[taintdbysin]

What kind of book? The rec room has a large selection of books you could probably find one that catches your interest if you're looking to read.

[sanctamater]

I'm afraid for the time being, leaving the room I am in would be unwise.

However, I will definitely look into the rec room when it is safer to leave; I have had a hankering for a good history of late.

[taintdbysin]

It is fairly dangerous with the way people are acting.

I could tell you a story.

[sanctamater]

Exactly.

Oh, but I'm sure you've got much more to deal with, dear. These are not easy times for anyone.

voice.

[boilsomewater]

Hm, that's quite a pretty saying.

Re: voice.

[sanctamater]

Simply a few things my father taught me. I'm afraid my Latin is barely passable anymore, though...