Sonia can't really call the camera a gift. It's more...a concession. A favor, maybe. Something to keep their pet hostage happy, or at least less miserable. Sonia didn't know the ghem lady who'd delivered it from a hole in the ground, and her knee jerk reaction had been one of general dislike. Beyond being Cetagandan, the woman was...a little cloying, prying, and she looked at Sonia like she was examining her under a magnifying glass, looking for defects. Sonia wonders if ghem-Soren had only come to bring it herself as an excuse to gawk at her. She'd been half-inclined to refuse the camera out of spite, on principle, whatever, but ultimately she doesn't, for the same reason she caved and gave her parole.
It had to be Byerly. It might not have come from him directly, no -- a favor from that woman, maybe, who had seemed so curious about her artistic ability in that uniquely Cetagandan brand of condescension -- but it had to have started with him. No one else on this base knows that much about her. And it's for that alone that she almost doesn't pick up the camera at all out of spite. She's still feeling so...so mixed up about everything.
But she does anyway. It's a digital model, nearly state of the art even if it is relatively simple, and it had been a little bit of a blow to her pride that she'd needed instruction in its use, but she grew up largely galactic and it doesn't take her long to figure the rest on her own. It's not nearly as simple as her own, but it has one thing on her camera: it does color.
She doesn't know what will happen to the pictures she takes. She hasn't been given access to any kind of development studio. Glanced at and then discarded, probably. She'll take it anyway.
She's asked to be let out so she can have some time in the gardens to herself. The guards, mercifully, generally leave her to her own devices when indoors, not hovering any closer than the entrance. Sonia finds herself perched on the low-slung branches of a massive, sprawling magnolia tree in bloom near the center of the gardens, her feet braced against the trunk to keep her steady while she twists and leans to try different angles, playing with the camera's focus settings. Close-ups of flowers, she's decided, are the cheeriest thing she could do for herself. No flowers in her hair for her birthday this year; she wonders if the Cetagandans would notice if she picked any for herself.
Byerly - post-parole
It had to be Byerly. It might not have come from him directly, no -- a favor from that woman, maybe, who had seemed so curious about her artistic ability in that uniquely Cetagandan brand of condescension -- but it had to have started with him. No one else on this base knows that much about her. And it's for that alone that she almost doesn't pick up the camera at all out of spite. She's still feeling so...so mixed up about everything.
But she does anyway. It's a digital model, nearly state of the art even if it is relatively simple, and it had been a little bit of a blow to her pride that she'd needed instruction in its use, but she grew up largely galactic and it doesn't take her long to figure the rest on her own. It's not nearly as simple as her own, but it has one thing on her camera: it does color.
She doesn't know what will happen to the pictures she takes. She hasn't been given access to any kind of development studio. Glanced at and then discarded, probably. She'll take it anyway.
She's asked to be let out so she can have some time in the gardens to herself. The guards, mercifully, generally leave her to her own devices when indoors, not hovering any closer than the entrance. Sonia finds herself perched on the low-slung branches of a massive, sprawling magnolia tree in bloom near the center of the gardens, her feet braced against the trunk to keep her steady while she twists and leans to try different angles, playing with the camera's focus settings. Close-ups of flowers, she's decided, are the cheeriest thing she could do for herself. No flowers in her hair for her birthday this year; she wonders if the Cetagandans would notice if she picked any for herself.