Susanna Langdon (susannalies) wrote in rrinitiative, @ 2012-11-16 08:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | day eight, susanna, susanna and wu, wu |
Non-Verbal Cues
Characters: Susanna and Wu
Setting: Courtyard, 4pm
Anyone who might’ve said that a fifty-five year old man hosting a literal tea party was unmanly? Had never seen Wu at it. He’d had some restrained austerity all through lingering in the kitchen as water boiled, and while there was no outward menace in his trip to the courtyard with a tray balanced, there was also no show of anything else.
He was back after two days of moping; feeling good and alert once more. Freshly shaved, buttoned to the cuffs and even with a loosened tie again, Wu definitely felt some of his fires returning. And it didn’t hurt that the tea smelled heavenly, though he’d abstained from pouring himself a cup yet. This Susanna woman said she would be timely, he could wait.
There was no need to rush, for which Susanna was grateful. She’d left the gym with plenty of time to shower and prepare at her leisure, which gave her the time she needed to properly settle her mind, to put the things out of it that she just didn’t need to be dwelling on. She wanted to be in top form when she met with Wu, as she really didn't know what to expect from the older man. He seemed cultured and reserved, both things that she could respect, and if his comment on Dominic’s post from the second day here was to be believed, he was also quite dangerous. A man who had been convicted of such a list of things was not to be taken lightly.
Susanna emerged from her room with time to spare, watching as Wu settled at a table. She would not leave him waiting, not wanting to start things off on the wrong foot. She crossed the courtyard to him, sitting down across him with a polite smile. “Wu, I presume? I am Susanna,” she introduced herself.
Even if he didn’t smile, there was some welcoming aspect around Wu’s eyes as he nodded to Susanna, watching her settle across the table. It was good to feel such clarity again, Wu needed it for studying the easy grace Susanna had. Finally, he understood what Reece had said several days ago: she was more impressive in person. A man who hadn’t trafficked in flesh might have been very disarmed just by the sight of her.
“It is very good to meet you, even under such circumstances,” he greeted cordially, with another slight nod as Wu moved to turn over both cups on his platter. “Chrysanthemum tea from petals I have dried myself. Please,” he offered intently, waving with a pinky-less hand. It was an undeniably refined image that he wore, something that covered a lifelong thug, but it would’ve been flawless if he hadn’t shared his crimes with the others.
“Likewise,” Susanna agreed, polite smile still in place, looking perfectly natural and relaxed in spite of the circumstances. At the offer, she poured tea into one of the cups, a small bit of surprise showing in her expression that the tea was made from petals he’d dried himself. “Thank you,” she said genuinely, tone slightly impressed.
Raising the cup, Susanna gave him a small nod over it before bringing it to her lips, taking a sip and letting the flavors linger for a moment. “That’s quite good,” she told him after a second sip. “Certainly much better than the boxed tea I brewed yesterday to enjoy during the storm,” she added, making a face at the mention of boxed tea. It really was dreadful stuff and could not compare to tea brewed with freshly dried petals. “I would venture a guess that this is far from your first attempt at drying flowers for brewing,” she said, a warmer smile twitching around her lips.
Pouring his own cup, Wu raised it and just breathed in the aroma as Susanna tested hers. He was intent on her reactions, on the little cues that told him the praise was sincere, and finally Wu nodded at her compliment. “I come from both a different generation and country, such things were commonplace once. And there are traditions we all hold dear,” he answered before sipping his own tea and losing just the faintest sliver of his guard at the taste of it. Even forty years later, it always brought Wu back to the brothel, and the flowers he would dry over the stove after the whores were done with them.
“It is time-consuming, of course, but after learning that you hold the arts dear,” Wu continued, “I thought it would make an auspicious framing for this meeting. Something still more distant from incarceration.” And for him it was nearly true, at least; it was another moment of relief at being here, at feeling so gathered again. And with the courtyard around them? Wu was almost feeling pleasant, but for the watchful edge.
As aware as Wu seemed to be of her and her reactions, Susanna was equally focused on him, curious about the man. He’d certainly seemed to hang on the edges of things lately, choosing not to get directly involved, which she could respect far more than the loudmouths who had tried to organize things the other morning regarding the stocks. “Mmm, certainly. Traditions are to be respected and carried on. It is a shame that so many seem to be lost in lieu of more immediate results,” she mused thoughtfully. Although, if she were being honest, her own parents had not done much passing on of traditions. They’d been far too focused on their own lives to pay her any mind, which had suited her just fine.
“Well then, I appreciate it all the more. I’ve never imagined it to be a speedy process, and it truly has been far too long since I’ve had a properly brewed cup of tea.” Was it a ploy of some sort? A means of putting her at ease for some ulterior motive? Susanna was choosing not to think quite so suspiciously just yet. “How are you finding things here? I would imagine that in spite of the upheaval of recent days that it is still an improvement upon where you were prior.” She knew that it was for her.
“A staggering improvement, yes,” Wu agreed, raising his cup for another sip. He that tendency about him, some talent for seeming innocuous and still putting others on edge. To her credit, he had yet to sniff out any hint of it in Susanna yet, but Wu was watching and waiting. No way would a woman like this just fall into bed with a man like Reece, there was some duality to her that needed to be seen.
“Southport was a jarring transition from my own properties in Manhattan, and I do not believe I would have ever grown accustomed to it,” Wu explained, “To come here? It is the closest to the idea of a benediction I have ever encountered.” Every other good turn in his life had been earned, but the facility had just... happened. “Gradually, I am settling here, learning the rhythm of the others. And yourself? I cannot imagine womens’ prisons in this country to be much better than the mens’.”
Susanna sipped her tea as she listened to Wu speak, expression one of polite attention and interest in what he had to say. “I think,” she began when Wu turned the question back to her, “that women's prisons are quite different than men’s, even if I would not classify them as better or worse. I was at Bedford Hills, which even though it is near enough to Manhattan, might as well have been in another country altogether. I would have to agree with the thought that no matter how much time was spent there, neither would I have grown accustomed to it. There is much to be grateful for here, even if there is equally as much that is unsettling. You had properties in Manhattan, though? If it would not be a bother, I would like to hear more about that,” she said in a slightly questioning tone, making it clear that she would not push nor would she be offended if he opted not to discuss it.
“And I would say there is less here that should unsettle,” Wu argued without any real heat, “But when it touches? It touches us all.” Caroline’s death, the punishments, the realization he’d had that they could just be locked in their rooms and forgotten... when things went wrong here? They went very wrong. Still, her inquiry was an amusing one, and honestly one Wu had expected to touch on sooner here. Granted, he’d anticipated it more because of his crimes than his status.
He had a twitch at one corner of his mouth, the barest beginnings of a smile as Wu raised his tea for a drink. “In one fashion or another, I held titles to roughly two fifths of Chinatown,” he said first, amusement making it to his eyes if not his smile, “A more modest highrise in the financial district, three rental estates that were converted for my employees, and several shipping docks in the harbor.” Why hide it? It wasn’t as if he could lose any of them a second time. And to hear it all listed like that, Wu felt a little surge of pride for what he’d built.
Susanna tilted her head slightly, considering the counter-statement. "That should, certainly. However, I think the mere fact that there are things to be grateful for is unsettling in and of itself," she countered in that same level tone. This wasn't an argument or debate, just a relatively friendly conversation thus far, and she would prefer to keep it that way.
Because she was watching him closely, having already recognized the rather stoic way he carried himself, Susanna noticed the very small hints of amusement in his expression at her question. She said nothing, her own expression remaining unchanged but for her eyebrows raising minutely as he rattled off a general list of his properties. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” she murmured behind her cup, just the barest of breaths when he finished, tone void of any mocking. “That is an extensive and impressive empire,” she said to him after taking a drink and lowering her cup to set it on the table, a note of respect to her voice.
It was good on her part to indulge Wu’s pride with those notes of respect; he’d lashed out at many men for failing to recognize just that. And while Susanna’s gender afforded her some protection? It was never a total guarantee, loathe as Wu would be to admit that. “It was, yes,” he agreed at length. And will be again, was added mentally, silently with another drink from his cup before Wu reached for the teapot and refilled. “But you are a native of New York?” he urged as he poured, “This marks three of us, at least. Which is unsurprising in a city of that size. Still, tell me of your life there. A convict familiar with Goya is surprising, regardless of their sex.”
“I am, yes,” Susanna confirmed with a small nod. She was also unsurprised that there seemed to be several people here from New York. “Hmm, yes, I would imagine that there are many here who are sadly lacking in such awareness. My parents ensured I had the best education, and I traveled, as well. I have seen some of the best museums in Europe: the Museo del Prado, the Galleria Borghese, and the Louvre of course, to name a few. I have always loved the arts, even as a child, though my passion for ballet was discovered young and most of my energy was channeled into that.” Her answer was actually quite honest, though she tried to keep any clear pride in having come from such a privileged life out of her tone. It was more like she was just stating facts rather than relaying a personal story, until the end at least. There was no denying the way her eyes lit up just a bit as she mentioned ballet.
“I have never been to Europe,” Wu stated neatly in regards to her summation, “Asia, yes, but after I came to this country, and even then on business only. To walk the streets of Paris, even as a tourist... this must have been bliss.” He sounded maybe a tad envious, the side of Wu that celebrated art and culture piping up in those words. “Ballet is a fine pursuit, as well. Disciplined in degrees that many do not understand. I held passes for many performances each year, they were often bright spots in a dark city,” he complimented with a slight nod, keeping the reasons for that to himself. Part of it was a simple love of beauty, a joy in seeing the craft Susanna had practiced. But the lion’s share? That was private, and part of another life.
“But to think that someone from such beginnings could end up here,” Wu continued with a faint purse of his lips, “I seek no offense, Susanna, but I would hear the story of how that came to be.” And there was no polite escape there that she’d given him; Wu suspected this woman to be more than refinement, and he wanted confirmation or denial, whichever her reaction gave him.
Susanna would have gladly spent their time together talking about travel or ballet or any of the arts, really, and she was fully prepared to do just that when he had to go and ask about what had brought her here. She frowned immediately, looking down into her teacup as she lightly swirled the liquid around in it. "It is something I try not to think on," she began in a soft voice that made it clear that she wasn't quite comfortable talking about it even now. "I do not have all the answers for what happened. There are gaps in my memory that I'm not sure I want filled. I was tried for first degree murder, convicted of second, and now I am here. What happened before..." She trailed off, closing her eyes and shaking her head as though the mere thought of it disturbed her. She didn't expect him to accept that answer, but she would not elaborate unless pressed.
“I had seen the charges, yes,” Wu confirmed with a light nod. There wasn’t a flicker of compassion in him, not with his hunter’s mentality in place. She could tremble, hold back tears, choke on her words and more; he would hear details from her all the same. And whatever pang he felt at seeing a woman in need? It clashed directly with what he knew from Reece, no woman so touched by what she’d endured would fall into bed with a man like that. Or seek him out for it, by Reece’s own words. “Who was the victim?” he asked then, the question seeming light on Wu’s lips before he took another drink.
The lack of compassion or empathy did not surprise Susanna in the least in these circumstances. Wu had already proven to be a stoic man, and with the list of crimes he’d been convicted of along with the extensive properties he’d told her about, she had every reason to believe that he’d ruled his empire mercilessly. She looked at him at the question, just a flickering of her eyes before looking back down at the teacup held between her hands. “My husband,” she answered succinctly.
Looking down, she may have missed the flicker of amusement in Wu’s eyes when that tidbit was shared. It was brief, just a flash in the blacks over the thought of this woman triumphing over her husband. “I would imagine your prosecution chased the idea that there was profit to be had in his death,” he ventured evenly, thinking that a woman with Susanna’s tastes and upbringing probably had a high price tag attached to her standard of living. “How did he die?” he asked then, not pushing the idea that Susanna had killed him even as he pressed for details.
Susanna laughed derisively at that, finally looking up to meet Wu’s eyes again. “They attempted, but the financial gain from his death would have been minimal compared to what I already had. Money was not a feasible motive, and my lawyer, incompetent as he was in other areas, did manage to convey that clearly enough.” Money had truly been the furthest thing from her mind that night.
The question was not altogether unexpected, but she debated internally for the moment whether or not to be honest with him. The deciding factor, she realized, was the fact that she’d already told Mojo that he’d been stabbed to death, and it would not do to lie now. Keep the story straight and as close to the truth as possible, she reminded herself. “He was stabbed,” she answered, and if her breath hitched a bit as she spoke, she could only hoped that it would add weight to the idea that her husband’s death disturbed her greatly.
Having been on both sides of that treatment before, Wu could buy into the idea that it disturbed Susanna. The problem, of course, was that he would expect it to if she’d been the one doing the stabbing. People didn’t realize how delicate-yet-resilient the human body could be; how you could push a blade in and watch blood spurt, but the victim would just keep screaming. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. So if she’d been the one to do it?
That spoke volumes of possibility to the old gangster, though it earned only another nod. “I hope that whatever new beginning this place offers you brings you far from such things repeating,” he offered genuinely, darkly amused by their talk. Whether Susanna was guilty or not, she bore watching in the future. But here and now? Wu wouldn’t badger her to satisfy his own curiosity, it would reflect poorly with the others if word got out.
Susanna breathed in deeply, closing her eyes briefly before nodding. “That is my hope,” she agreed, and it was true enough. While she might even still have those stirrings, that desire to push a blade into skin and watch their blood spill, she was in complete control of it. “I will not ask after your own crimes,” she told him with the faintest twitching of her lips. “It is simple enough to deduce what has brought you here.” She wasn’t entirely certain why she’d made it a point to tell him that, but it was out there, and she wasn’t terribly worried about that.
She got a huff of laughter for that, a solitary note before Wu finished his tea and set the cup aside for the moment. “That which we perceive to be most simple often is not,” he countered even as he raised a hand slightly, “But your choice is yours alone, it will be respected.” And really, it was good of her not to. Otherwise Wu might’ve ended up sharing the kindnesses he’d shown to his whores, the structure and discipline that had eventually been used against him. If any of his misgivings about Susanna were right? He didn’t want her to know such things. “Do any of the others concern you?” he asked then, “I know we have been grouped with many individuals who would unsettle most people.”
The twitch in her lips turned into a small smile at his laughter, and she nodded once at his words. “Touché. And while I imagine the story of it all is far more complicated, I still stand by what I told someone the first day here. Our convictions may be what brought us here, but I refuse to allow it to be all that defines me, and I will not judge anyone on that alone.” It was, in part, her own confidence in her ability to protect herself. She’d done well enough in prison, though she knew that this wasn’t quite the same game. There were dangerous men here, like the one sitting before her, and so she had every intention of not getting on his bad side. “Hmm, not particularly. Some of the crimes committed are unsettling, to be sure, but I’ve not met anyone that has truly set me on edge,” she answered honestly.
“Nor I,” Wu replied in satisfaction, though he knew her definition of ‘on edge’ and his would be vastly different beasts. Still, for being housed with murderers and rogues of every stripe? THis was nowhere near as hostile as Southport had been. But after those first two words from him, Wu fell silent as he considered what Susanna was saying. It was a sensible approach for most of them, defining their lives past the scope of their crimes seemed understandable. For him, with a literal lifetime spent in those crimes? Not so much. Still, Wu could understand it. “Who did you say these things to? It strikes me as a sentiment many here would benefit from embracing.”
As Wu fell silent, Susanna did not feel the need to fill it with idle chatter. She lifted her cup to her lips, taking a sip of the now chilled liquid. Its flavor was not as pleasant cold, but she drank anyway, waiting patiently for him to speak again. “Dominic,” she answered at his question. “The man who was removed, that they put the note up about,” she elaborated because she was unsure of whether or not Wu had met him. “But yes, I do agree that the sentiment should be more widely embraced. Is it not the advertised purpose of this facility? I would venture to guess that several of the people here were victims of circumstance and have an excellent chance of true rehabilitation.” Just like she was certain that there were people here whose criminal lifestyles were so ingrained in them that they had no true hope of being rehabilitated, but she didn’t feel the need to specify that.
He’d seen enough of this woman that Wu’s wariness wasn’t going anywhere, that was for sure. The careful wording of everything needled him with its’ limits, even as it touched on valid observations that could definitely apply to many of them here. Wren and Carmel came to mind immediately at Susanna’s musings; two women Wu viewed as more unfortunate than guilty, and for them and others like them? He wanted it to be more than the advertised purpose, it needed to be true. “And there are others,” he noted, “Who are guilty, yes, but their crimes do not deserve the scope of sentence they were given. A young woman, Becka, and a man named Reece... they committed their crimes, acknowledged them, but did not strike me as continued threats.”
Susanna’s head tilted upward as Wu spoke again, though she was distracted by the mention of Reece, and her expression showed a brief surprise. There was no reason for it, of course. In such a small facility, people were bound to know one another. “And Carmel, the one who’s been doing the cooking,” she added to his list. She actually had a certain amount of respect for the woman. “I’ve not met Becka, but from what I have seen on the journals, I would have to agree. And Reece...” She paused, trying to sort through her thoughts on Reece for something appropriate to say regarding the man who she’d been trying not to think about all day. “I believe that his crimes weigh heavily enough upon him so to deter him from any repeat offenses,” she finally said, frowning slightly.
“You have spoken with him at length,” Wu observed, unable to ignore just how much more detail Reece earned in Susana’s observations. “To claim such a belief requires it, or foolishness. You do not strike me as a fool.” A backhanded compliment, to be sure, and also an honest bit of awareness regarding her. Wu paid some people no concern, but if they were mentally sharp? They always deserved some shred of caution. “And yet, I think you have it correct. Reece does not strike me as a murderer, and his convictions support this. Technicalities brought him low.”
It was always good to know how others perceived you, and Susanna was not at all surprised by Wu’s backhanded compliment. “I have spoken with him at length,” she confirmed simply, though she did not intend to elaborate further on her connection to Reece. It wasn’t something she particularly wanted to think on much less talk about just then. “A murderer? No, certainly not. An ill conceived plan carried out poorly, yes. I would have to agree with you. So you have spoken with him at length as well, then?” Though she worded it as a question, it was clear enough. He certainly did not strike her as a fool.
“Brief instances only,” Wu informed her with a shake of his head. “But I have learned, in my time, to read great deals from small sources. People reveal more than they are aware of in very simple ways, and I take note.” He could share that much, could offer the idea that he’d done as much with Reece. And that he was working at similar methods here and now. “Whatever our sentences, we share the same hopeful goal, and you said it well. Others should embrace this, for our freedom.” For his freedom, these fools needed to fall in line.
Susanna gave a small nod at the revelation that really wasn’t a surprise at all. She was well aware that people revealed more than they realized, which was why she’d always been carefully aware of her non-verbal cues and expressions. “Absolutely,” she agreed at his last words. It was her only clear focus, to gain her freedom, and she would be furious if others here did anything to prevent it. She finished the last of the tea in her cup, and then set the cup back on the tray Wu had brought everything out on. “Thank you again for the tea and the conversation, as well. I think I will return to my room to freshen up before the meal,” she said with a nod toward where Reece was starting to grill.
To her credit, Susanna had become quite good as masking those cues. Without the shred of suspicion Wu had come into this meeting with, he would’ve had no reason to question the facade he believed she wore... “It was my pleasure,” he agreed, gathering his cup with hers and standing politely to see her off, “And perhaps we shall cross paths there? If not, good health to you Susanna.” That, before he lifted the tray up and slipped from the picnic table, already mentally tallying what came next. Flowers needed to be gathered, paper and a metal bowl... Wu would need to go to the spiritual room before the vigil.
Susanna offered Wu a small smile. She would be no less cautious around the man, but she had no reason to believe that she should fear him personally, which was a small comfort in a place like this. “The same to you,” she replied with a little nod as she stood as well. She would return to her room and mentally replay the meeting for anything that she might not have caught at the time.