#(Cres.cent City starters)

[more-than-a-princess]

@transcendentxchronicles asked: [Togami - Post Despair] “I have a reason to work for my freedom. I thought you did, too.”

Crescent City sentence starters - still accepting!

Seated at the other side of his desk, only one thing crossed through Sonia's mind. Well, perhaps more accurately, two: One, was he being facetious? And two, she was far too sober for this thrice weekly torture described, all too keenly by Makoto Naegi, as rehabilitation, therapy, for the former Class 77-B. The former Remnants of Despair. Former everything...none of them had a place in the world anymore, not really.

Something that Byakuya Togami was keen to correct. Sonia folded her arms across her chest, her mouth fixed in its usual expression: something between unamused and irritated. She supposed, in a warped sense, the man was fortunate: he didn't really know what it was to fail, and still had a staggering number of employees and resources at his disposal. One that, to her chagrin, also included her: in a necessary measure to keep Sonia away from the Hotel Mirai kitchens and anything to do with cleaning products, housekeeping, or repairs, the Future Foundation and former Remnants alike had agreed she'd be put to best use doing secretarial duties: filing papers, managing shipments of goods to the island, and perhaps most importantly, translating any documents, calls, or recorded video from one language to another. A necessity to keep tabs on worldwide restoration efforts, and a task that she only needed a dictionary once in awhile to check the specific interpretation of a word or phrase.

The most recent translation assignment had been placed neatly on one side of Togami's desk, three days ahead of her assigned due date. Now, Sonia had half a mind to turn the lot of it into confetti, alongside the folded newspapers that had been sent over from Europe detailing the latest in parliament and public opinion regarding Novoselic's disgraced queen. Overall, it was not a favorable assessment. She was tempted, in her dissatisfaction with both her current sobriety and her current predicament that afternoon, shut away in Byakuya Togami's office with only the man for company, to tear the publications into a pile of confetti as well. Sprinkle in some choice words she had for the entire plan his organization had for her, and slam the door so hard in her wake that it would nearly come off its hinges.

Instead she exhaled, already feeling the headache coming on. Therapy was supposed to be, well, therapeutic: instead, she usually left Togami's thrice weekly sessions with her feeling worse than before. Annoyed or frustrated, but mostly the feeling of emptiness, that her entire life had amounted to nothing besides pain and suffering and regret. That couldn't be fixed, there was no bringing back all the lives she'd taken with her own hands.

"Freedom," She repeated, her voice low and quiet as her hands gripped the folds of her linen skirt. The fabric would crumple and wrinkle within her fists, ruining any attempt of appearing neat and tidy. Not that it mattered: the dark circles beneath her blue eyes were proof enough of that. "What freedom is that, exactly? The Future Foundation has made it perfectly clear that, sooner rather than later, I'm to be extradited off this island to be returned to Novoselic, where I'm either to be shut away in a Castle like some fairytale character or be put to death like disgraced queens of the past."

It was true: her time was running out. She'd negotiated with Naegi upon her initial awakening and release from the Jabberwock Island Hospital that she'd refuse to budge from the island's shores until she knew all of her comatose friends were revived. And after many weeks of trial and error, of the five who had survived the Neo World Program to find a way to feed and shelter themselves while deciphering the vast array of codes and machines to safely extract their former classmates from their pods, they'd finally achieved it. The last of the group to awaken were now convalescing in hospital beds before being moved into their own cabins, to continue their therapy. To find their place in the world.

They were fortunate, Sonia thought: a lack of home and responsibility gave most of her friends a choice. She, and the likes of Fuyuhiko (and Peko by extension), were not so fortunate. They had countries, businesses, perhaps even family still alive and needing the former Remnants to answer for their crimes, to begin the rest of their lives attempting to make amends to their people. She supposed, then, that was why out of the lot of them, it had been Togami assigned to apprehend them as Remnants and to aid in their rehabilitation. As if all offspring from wealthy and influential families had reason to understand one another and bond due to giant bank accounts and an impressive family tree.

"So I'll ask you again, Togami," Sonia exhaled, releasing her grip on her skirt. How many more minutes would she be subjected to Togami's interpretation of Naegi's tirades about hope? The leader of the whole operation was grating enough on her nerves: the last thing she wanted to contend with was someone who had never manage to fuck up as badly as she did. Who still brought honor and glory to his family name despite the state of the world. He'd never been brainwashed by the likes of Junko Enoshima, and it seemed as if he wouldn't allow her to forget it. "What freedom of mine am I fighting for? Because how I see it, Jabberwock Island is the closest I'm ever going to get to freedom. It's the only place on Earth that no one gives a shit that I'm a queen. My friends...my family, they care about me. Novoselic...well, you can see it in black and white: they want me returned either to imprison me or kill me. There's no freedom in that. There's barely any honor in that."

She paused, sighing: it was a challenge not to resent the neat stack of papers on his desk. "If you were going to spend this therapy hour giving me a lecture, I would not have completed your translation requests so efficiently. If this is what's given as a reward in return." And hand the entire bag of European coffee beans she'd received in her last shipment from home off to Teruteru to do as he liked with it, or throw it right back into the sea. She had no use for it, but it was one of the few brands left that made exquisite coffee, sent with the purpose that she share it with her friends. Considering how repulsive the usual coffee was, coming from a jar that used to be sold in convenience stores for a couple hundred yen at most, Sonia imagined Togami could barely stand the current offerings.