As expected, Seymour began exploring once he was confident the three women were far enough away for his comfort. Everything was locked, bolted down, or some sort of angry, churning, roaring piece of Machina he didn't want to be near. He wasn't sure if this was a prison or a circus; all he knew was that he didn't want to be involved with any of it.
It didn't matter that he no longer had any political or clerical power. He barely had any to start with and those positions all made better leashes than opportunities. He didn't miss having bodyguards; they tended to be useless most of the time and it wasn't like they ever told him their names.
What bothered him was that he was trapped here. No clues, no way of making himself useful other than becoming someone else's punching bag, no privacy. Doors didn't mean anything if any idiot could open them.
No maps, no tools, no hiding places. With the exception this one spot, no quiet.
A hypello screaming at him, people screaming near him, machina screaming because that's what it did.
It wasn't private, but he had managed to find a place, away from the others and away from the noise. He knew someone would eventually ruin it just because they could, but it was better than a small room resembling a mix between a closet and a jail cell.
And here she was, taking what little he had purely because she could. It wasn't as if he could see anything through the fog.
"So this is where you went," Paine said to herself. She hadn't expected him to be on the roof of the ship, but then, she hadn't expected him to be so… unimpressive.
He was just sitting there, staring into the black clouds.
"Apparently," he muttered.
"Yuna told me about your dad," Paine said. "Did you really do it?"
Seymour sighed and rolled his eyes. "What sense would it make to deny it now?" he asked, letting out a sigh after. "I'm not really in the mood, but you go ahead. I wouldn't be able to stop you if I tried. Obviously."
"Why?"
Seymour turned to look at her, unsure if he heard her right. Then he turned back the fog. It didn't bother him and he didn't bother it. That was much more preferable to people. "I don't see why answering that would change anything," he said.
"It makes a difference to me, and I'm the one locking up a murderer or letting you come back here later," Paine retorted.
He turned to look at her, craning his neck to look at her face. Then he turned back to the fog, as if to wish it farewell. He stood up, refusing to use his mechanical hand to steady himself, treating it like a dead limb. "It's impolite to walk ahead of one's jailer."
"You didn't answer my question," Paine told him, blocking his way.
"And how credible are the words of a murderer?" he asked.
Paine couldn't tell if he was teasing her about the truth she didn't know or if he thought she was stupid for not thinking of this first. Either way, she wanted to punch him in the face, but she also wanted him to do something to deserve it more. If being a smartass was all that deserved a good hit, she'd be one big bruise most days.
"Shut up and get inside before you fall off."
Seymour's grin widened as he followed. "Really? Murders are planned in silence. After all, how do you think I got away with it?"
He was quiet after that, just as she ordered. He still smirked. Paine noticed that was as far as he came to being threatening. He looked like he was up to something. She could have just shoved him to his death while they were on the roof of the airship, but he had barely moved when he thought she was going to start a fight.
She noticed he was doing his best to keep his distance as she led him down through the ship. He moved away from machina when he could, and the only thing he took his eyes off her for was writing—signs, instructions, anything he hoped was in his native language that could give him some clue as to where he was or at least where the airship was going
Tidus was standing in front of the door to Seymour's 'room'. No one had told Seymour that it wasn't actually meant for long-term use. It was a room meant for whoever handled overnight cargo-hauling tasks. It was there for a quick shower or nap during a long and boring flight before unloading it somewhere across the world.
"Here," Tidus said, not even looking at Seymour as he tossed a pile of clothes at the half-breed. "Put those on." He shoved Seymour into the room and slammed the door. "And no one cares."