2022-10-20: "I Won't Let You Haunt Me"
- Cutscene: 2022-10-20: "I Won't Let You Haunt Me"
- Cast: Ennil El
- Where: Garancieres
- Date: UC 0096 10 10
- Summary: Whatever she might tell herself, Ennil El is not satisfied. She makes plans for after Torrington.
The absolute first thing for Ennil El on board the Garencieres was a shower. Molten hot.
The water beat down on tired muscles, scoured away dead skin. It was a luxury you couldn't always get, in some Earth Zeon foxhole in an African desert, but it never failed to make her feel... human, again. Her hands scraped through dark red hair, over and over, loosening tangles. The texture, and the little bits of pressure each time she pulled... Another reminder of her own self. Still alive, despite a trip through hell.
Then it was time to turn and face the falling water. Close her eyes and let it beat down. She tilted back and let water stream down her face, still hot, near-scalding trails running down her cheeks; a wry little smile forcing itself onto her face at her own childishness. No one could see her here, so why...
Because she had to be someone who wouldn't be killed. So no weakness. Not even here, locked in a room all to herself. All her tears would wash away without ever being seen. When the water finally settled from painful to merely steaming, she settled back as well, slumping into the shower wall and reaching a hand out to the tumble of supplies she'd dumped in here on arriving to fumble out a tall steel can. A sharp hiss when she snapped it open, then a slight wince as the bitterness hit her tongue and scraped her throat. But the drink was nice. It would help her be less herself again, by the time she was done here.
_________
Ennil couldn't sleep. It wasn't a problem with the accommodations - the Garancieres was a freighter, and a Sleeves freighter besides, and certainly not the height of luxury, but even a halfway decent cot was more than enough to provide for her. There was just something still stuck, in her head. Something that needed done. She knew those instincts and she'd learned to obey them. She rummaged through her bag, lifted out a heavy pad, and threw herself into a chair instead. The problem was -
"I won't let you haunt me."
Shamblo schematics. A deep dive. Provisioning needs. Mechanical stockpiles, both Federation and old Zeon foxholes, including some that wouldn't be listed on intelligence reports, at least not any the Federation were receiving. Because there were at least two people she knew who would know every detail of those awful, half-rusted garages, their inventories, the handful of sad, worn-out people lingering there who were less alive than the machines they worked on.
Her, and Loni Garvey.
Could she figure out a route? Make the call? There weren't a ton of options, but more than enough for Loni to get lost if she really wanted to. Sending the limited resources of the Garencieres out on a wild goose chase, straight towards danger... She had no way of knowing whether Suberoa Zinnerman was a man with that kind of heart. If he was, he was a fool, but the right kind for Ennil in this moment. It'd probably take a couple days of work, at least, to narrow everything down. Even then, it'd take preparation, luck -
and hope.