poly_chromatic | (no subject)

Entry tags:

oc - saya wallace

(no subject)

[There's crying, here.

It's a woman crying, a woman who does not realize she's being recorded on audio.]

I don't think-

I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

[There's no one else speaking, and then the sound of a door opening, and a very low kind of wail - not loud, just insistent.]

[ooc: Replies will come from

torqued]

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[He'd gone down to pick up the mail. Sort through deliveries, take out leaflets, payments, bills. Reaching this part of a Sunday morning with no obvious disasters, on a weekends like these, tends to be a good sign.

Until he hears her.

He heads for the stairs, slowly, then at a jog.

What's wrong is a question he's asked her before, but she has different tells than this.]

Babe?

[So he asks that, instead. Asks because he's not sure she'll know him. Not sure he knows her like this.]

[She's in her closet, just against the door to where her room opens to the Sylie behind it. She just sits in the door way, her knees against her chest, and she hears him]

Robert?

[It comes out in a plaintive sort of wail, just the barest hints of a cry]

[He tracks her by her voice, trying the closet door, then kneeling as he opens it. Knowing him's a good sign. Probably.]

It's me. [And he'll crawl in there with her if she lets him.] What's happening?

[She looks up at him and it's clear that she's been crying for a while]

I killed all those people.

I killed them, I did it.

[It doesn't immediately click because that's not how he thinks of it. Though he's more cautious when he reaches for her, he still reaches.]

What people? I... don't know who you mean.

The ones in there-

[She reaches for him, and her touch is so gentle, like maybe he'll disappear-]

The ones over the last fifteen years-

[The ones in there... more things he doesn't think about, makes a specific effort not to.]

The ones you eat?

The ones I eat-

[She sobs out that last part, the ones she eats-]

[He sighs - some of it relief, curling around her, tucking her head under his chin.]

When's that ever been a choice?

[She lets out a sob, anyway, and presses her face against his shirt]

[He curls a hand under her hair, rubbing across the nape of her neck the way you soothe a fretting child.]

Are you going to believe me if I say this isn't like you?

I know-

[She wraps her fingers into his shirt]

I lost the spider.

[Well. He's not sure how he feels about that, not anymore, but he nudges her chin up.]

Let me have a look?

Inside?

[She looks back to the door to the sylie]

[He clicks his tongue.]

Not inside there.

[There's a flashlight pen clipped to the keyring in his pocket. He clicks it on in the halflight.]

[She sits back a bit, but nods.]

[It's not really an examination, he just lets the light cross her face and smiles.]

She likes to tell me you're not home. But I recognise you well enough.

There's no she. Just me.

[She puts her hands on his face]

Robert.

[He can't separate it quite like that. Can't say he loves her despite the spider - he just does.]

Hi.

Do you still love me?

[There's a part of that question that isn't clinical, it's so human and painful, so unlike Saya.]

[For him, at least, the reply is simple.]

All ways.

[She moves her hands into his hair, gets closer]

I keep thinking, it's okay, because I do it to survive, but then-

All those people.

[It's hard to reconcile the two.]

You feel like that because it's not your nature it's feeding. It's different for her. She doesn't get the luxury of going through an angsty vegetarian phase.

I'm so sorry.

You don't have cause to be. You don't have cause to be guilty, either. It wasn't your fault.

[But that's logic and that's not how emotions work.]