( when there's little to no useful information to extract from their surroundings or their captors, their gazes turn inward to their fellow prisoners. really, there's not much he expects to learn from any of them that will influence or change this situation they've found themselves in — the most he could hope for would be to discern some sort of pattern in who they are and why they have been brought here, but so far it's been such a random assortment that he'd stopped trying to find fictitious order in chaos. but to spend time idle would be to waste it, so he gathers what information he can, hopeful that some scraps of it may be useful to him in the future.

you know. if they had a future to speak of. )

Is it?

( he doesn't really think so. if you strip away enough layers, the desires of all creatures are on a base level selfish. if you act "selflessly" because of the gratifying feeling it gives you, can you really call it that? are you not just tailoring your words and actions to what morals, society, or your own gut tells you is "correct" for the sanctity of peace of mind?

makoto doesn't deal with any of it. he cuts to the quick, focused specifically on what is useful to him, though he's a honest enough salesman — he's always interested in a good trade or deal. )

At this point, they could offer us "freedom," even just in part, and expect virtually anything from us in return. ( observed lightly and with a thin smile. it's a way to hedge their bets — take away something from the other party so you could obtain something from them for "free" by just returning what they had already rightfully had. this is probably the best case scenario they can expect, makoto thinks. in any other circumstance, they stood to lose more. ) From my observations, several of our fellow captives have already found their patience running thin. I'm only interested to see, if that really is the shape of the offer that is made to us, how many would take it without argument.