poly_chromatic | (no subject)

Entry tags:

oc - saya wallace

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[It's the ocean! The waves are tumbling and pretty decent today, and the device is on the sand, recording a slight figure in a blue and black neoprene wetsuit catching a wave and riding it, getting in the pipe, and then barreling out the other end.

In another minute she's coming out of the water, laughing - yes, laughing - and shaking her head to get the excess water off. She moves so her device, sets her surfboard upright in the sand and unzips her wetsuit down just a bit to get more sun.

When she speaks, her accent is a touch more Australian than it ever was, with the Namibian still in the background.]

There's a fierce curl out there today; Scholar would love this, I know I'm taking as much as I can out of it. Why isn't anyone else out here?

[She flops back, then remembers why she's out here. She grabs her device.]

I woke up and the hostel I'm staying at [she doesn't remember getting there or where she is but she's sure she's at a hostel] had this huge collection of shoes, so I put them out. I figure the owners will turn up and get them, because they're not mine. If they were mine I would have given them to a charity shop, they look pretty expensive.

[She flops back again]

Come on, someone come out here! The water's grand!

[ooc: replies from

torqued!]

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Admirable. Successful, smart, cute, and a good surfer.

[She gives a nod]

Not bad, Doctor Robert.

And I bet you say that to all the smart, cute, successful guys. [He cups a handful of water and lets it splash uselessly against her wetsuit.] I'm not dating my job. It was never supposed to be the most important thing.

Only the ones who can get past my big bad bodyguard.

[She splashes him back]

No, but most people let their jobs be the most important thing. They forget the world is out there and waiting.

[WAIT PAUSE. She lowers her voice, fake-serious]

Are you dating someone else? Oh, god, I'm not going to have to get into a fistfight because I went surfing with you, am I? I mean, I will, but I'd need you to buy more than my breakfast for that.

[Ooof, that got him in the face. Which might be a problem if his hair wasn't already dripping into it.]

I was married. The world kind of walked out on me around six months back. [He says it as simply as possible, no careful phrasing.] Which is a shame, because I bet you're a killer at bare knuckle.

[She takes a minute, there]

I was engaged. For a year and a half. He left me - I know it's not the same as being married but-

[Pause. Damn it.]

Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm terrible at this. Trust me, my punches are better.

It's the same intent. Something you do because you think you've found the person you'd like to stick around. You're not terrible.

[Even on an ordinary day, he doesn't think she's terrible. Oddly reassuring in a completely different way. But.]

That's what you're getting out of your system?

Thanks.

[She nods a bit]

I was in college. We were in love, and then one day he was sleeping with his TA and telling me I was emotionally unavailable and the next thing I know all my siblings - I have a lot of them - are planning on how to get me out of this funk and then Scholar just picked me up and bam.

Tahiti.

Is that TMI?

It's not emotionally unavailable.

[And he smiles, just a little.]

The chance to screw up of their own devices is half the reason most kids go to college. You got unlucky he decided to screw up with you. I hope you weren't kidding about your punches.

In the face.

[She has the kind of satisfied smile that says she's being honest]

Anyway, the point is, I empathize.

[Another one of those words that make the world feel like it's on backwards.]

It's appreciated. Maybe I should have gone to Tahiti.

Tahiti makes a lot of things better.

I'll put it on the list.

You know what else makes things better?

[There's a look on her face that says impish]

[She's probably not going to say an early night with a bottle of jack so-]

You go first.

Come on and I'll show you.

[She starts paddling to the shore]

[He's in not long after her, running his board aground and flipping it up.]

[She heads up the beach and parks her board in the sand, stripping off the wetsuit - she's got a bikini on underneath, not the most solid of swimsuits but it's what she could find - and works her way up to the ridge off the beach, where Saya's Porsche is parked, gleaming in the sun]

Ta-da.

[Now which of them will she yell at later if he lets her get in salty and damp.]

And I was going to ask where you found the board.

The keys were on my nightstand so I figure I rented it. The board is Scholar's, it has his name on it.

[And it does, it's the one Saya kept from when he was in the City]

I even brought towels.

You figure you rented it? [Lightly teasing.] I thought you weren't that much of a pothead.

When I smoke reefer, I don't forget stuff. I think I got drunk, because I don't remember much of yesterday.

[She's reaching into the backseat for a couple of towels]

Can you get drunk? [Hold on.] -And not feel it in the morning?

[He hands him a towel. It is fluffy and Rosella-fied]

Sure, if I drink plenty of water. I'm pretty good about eating a banana before I go to bed, too.

[He has no idea if Rosella has had a chance to see this, but is surprised not to see her watching enchanted from the beach if so.]

Is that all it takes? I'm going to have to change my prescription routine.

I've got a good metabolism.

[She's kinfolk is what it is, and she knows it.]

It's the banana, you know. All that stuff about apples is a big crock. Bananas.