Needless to say, Claire found that answer... not all that satisfying; her frown deepened as she stared at the man intensely, pale gaze narrowed in conflicted agitation. Whatever she had been expecting, however, was hard to say. She didn't know - didn't know why she even bothered to ask in retrospect, when he was bound to offer an answer she wasn't going to like regardless of content.
As her hands dropped to grip the rail again, her attention followed them, acute confusion in her stance and eyes. She was hating every millisecond of this, because-- well. While some thoughts managed to stay down, others kept returning, circling around in her head and causing the expression on her face to continue shifting, at once hard to read and exceedingly transparent.
She would have been the first to admit she'd been ... difficult to handle, although conceding she was wrong out loud to anyone wasn't a point she'd reached yet.
... But she sort of suspected it - more than that, maybe, given the snatches of evidence, the time she'd had to go over it. Not even her stubbornness could stand up to that, and anyway... ever since her encounter with her former superior a few months previous, her outlook had changed. Even if it killed her, even if there was absolutely no chance for her to try anything before she was struck down one way or another, she was determined to at least try and buck off whatever tried to tie her down, rescue her world before it all went crashing down.
Problem was, even if she needed help, she had zero practice in knowing how to ask for it. They never really put a priority on training in that sort of thing in PSICOM... especially when it came to dealing with people you'd already personally sworn to hate. Instead, she just resisted biting her lip, going over her own misery and the events leading up to them for what must have been the millionth time. As pathetic as it seemed, saying anything more felt too far beyond her reach at the moment.
no subject
As her hands dropped to grip the rail again, her attention followed them, acute confusion in her stance and eyes. She was hating every millisecond of this, because-- well. While some thoughts managed to stay down, others kept returning, circling around in her head and causing the expression on her face to continue shifting, at once hard to read and exceedingly transparent.
She would have been the first to admit she'd been ... difficult to handle, although conceding she was wrong out loud to anyone wasn't a point she'd reached yet.
... But she sort of suspected it - more than that, maybe, given the snatches of evidence, the time she'd had to go over it. Not even her stubbornness could stand up to that, and anyway... ever since her encounter with her former superior a few months previous, her outlook had changed. Even if it killed her, even if there was absolutely no chance for her to try anything before she was struck down one way or another, she was determined to at least try and buck off whatever tried to tie her down, rescue her world before it all went crashing down.
Problem was, even if she needed help, she had zero practice in knowing how to ask for it. They never really put a priority on training in that sort of thing in PSICOM... especially when it came to dealing with people you'd already personally sworn to hate. Instead, she just resisted biting her lip, going over her own misery and the events leading up to them for what must have been the millionth time. As pathetic as it seemed, saying anything more felt too far beyond her reach at the moment.