poly_chromatic | (no subject)

Entry tags:

oc - saya wallace

(no subject)

Do dead men dream?

What do you dream about?

What would the dead have to dream about? What would they have to think about? Today they came back from the dead. Do the walking dead have a pulse? Vampires?

Bloodsuckers?

Does breathing hurt after you haven't done it?

[A pause.]

Happy Easter.

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That's the worst reasoning of all.

I know that.

[She picks up several boxes of chocolate]

Are you cursed?

[She inhales. She is. She had spent the morning consoling herself miserably over it with a set of silver needles, the small puncture marks all across her chest still red but no longer bleeding.]

In what way?

[Because she also considers the ramifications of the Ladybird's wish to be a curse.]

Let's begin with today.

[Her desire is to lie, but she doesn't know if she can do it convincingly, her shoulders have already gone tense, expression pinched.]

...no.

Cursed or blessed?

Twenty-four hours isn't long enough to decide.

[It was just painful, being jerked back and forth between states. Not only to have the control taken away from her by the supernatural, but also the fresh blossoming of despair as she became reacquainted with her with the death in her veins, all that she's lost. At least this curse hasn't teased her with the use of her hands, the full function of her mind like the one before it had. She's almost still too numb from that sorrow to fully appreciate this.]

I see.

[Her lips purse. It's... more than she wanted to give but it's done now. She comes to poke through the candy instead.]

[She watches]

Take some for Mr. Blonde.

Why would I do that...

[It isn't actually an objection. More... she shares everything with him, so there's no reason to do it specifically for him.]

Because I don't eat candy.

Maybe you should tell your customers that.

For next Easter, I'll remember.

If you're still here?

If I'm still here.

[Saya turns her head just slightly. Curiosity was always a hallmark of her species, and so she releases just a touch of pheromone. It's scentless but it cases a visceral reaction]

[Rude, Saya, rude. Without the virus in her veins, Carla is, perhaps, more susceptible than usual to such effects. She's not sure what the creeping feeling is, but it makes her frown as she picks open one of the boxes of peeps. The deep breath she takes is meant to be steadying.]

Rosella said... some people know, when they're leaving. Did you, when you were here before?

Yes. I made my own exit.

[She watches this, crossing her legs, sitting primly]

[The sugar isn't going to help, but she puts one of the marshmallows to her mouth anyway, a hand going to her neck as she chews, pressing down on her pulse with the heel.]

Made?

Yes. A wizard helped me.

[It's unfortunate what a stupid animal she can be, and it isn't the first time she's come to sit at Saya's feet.]

Why just you?

[The tip of Saya's toe brushes up Carla's arm]

Well, he thought he was killing me.

[She looks up abruptly, looking confused before she murmurs,]

A friend then.

Once upon a time, he was.

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