Re: [Strip club: Nel & Eames]
Nel was much too old for games. It was rather a pity, since she supposed life would be all the more interesting were she interested in the verbal calisthenics that, for example, her supposed sire luxuriated in. Eames had asked, true, and Nel had not responded, true, but she'd no desire to be some experiment in responses given. In Repose, Nel had learned how much she valued a true conversation, and they happened so seldom with her own kind. Everything was posturing, and immortal beings could be such bores with their determination to always maintain some imaginary upper hand. In short, Nel had hoped that a human male siting in a seedy bar would be rather more direct. Ah, well.
She said nothing of whether anyone came here looking for truth. She didn't address the immediate contradiction he'd uttered a moment earlier. In fact, were he an observant man, he would notice that she was shutting down. It wasn't as obvious as it would be in some machinery with lights dimming, but there was no doubt as to what was occurring. And, hopefully, there was no doubt about the deliberateness of the action.
He beat her to standing, and she made no move to follow, to stand respectfully. She remained as she was, attention back on the girl as the man, Eames, left her to her own thoughts and devices. If she had opinions on his throwaway response about his presence here, well, it was there and gone, and he was forgotten as Nel forgot everyone in this tiny town, as if the town's residents didn't exist at all between interactions.