video;

[synanthrope]

Hot springs.

Isn't it a little warm for hot springs? The best time for them is the winter, isn't it?

[Although she won't get in a hot spring any time so maybe that's a moot point....]

I suppose a massage might be pleasant. Or just watching.

[She's perched on a rock nearby, but far enough from the edge to avoid getting wet.]

Comments

[synanthrope]

[There's a table; Saya doesn't seem at all uncomfortable with stretching out on it.]

[dignity_misery]

[Of course she doesn't, and Carla settles herself at the head of the table, reaching down to brush the hair away from Saya's neck. Her hands are generally cold, and she spends a moment poking through the oils for something to do the trick. Whatever she finds, it smells like cinnamon and ginger when she begins to work out the shape of Saya's skull and the bridge of spine connected.]

I am surprised someone hadn't already jumped on it.

[It's a faint murmur, not strictly requiring an answer.]

[synanthrope]

Some people don't like to touch me.

[dignity_misery]

Like who?

[Carla is completely incredulous about this. Maybe she forgets not everyone likes skin as much as she does. She doesn't care about whether it's bared or not, she cares about touching it.]

[synanthrope]

People, I presume, who don't like me.

[dignity_misery]

You don't have to like someone, to want to touch them.

[synanthrope]

No?

[Saya turns her head a little]

I suppose you don't.

[dignity_misery]

[If she were the type, Carla might flush to be reminded of what she said. Instead, she lightly coaxes Saya's head into a full turn, moving on to press into the opposite shoulder.]

Hate is more interesting than boredom.

[synanthrope]

I don't find either particularly gripping.

[dignity_misery]

What are you gripped by?

[synanthrope]

Nothing.

[dignity_misery]

You keep yourself busy enough.

[synanthrope]

I'm good at being busy.

[She takes a breath]

You liked what I did to you, didn't you?

[dignity_misery]

[Not the mark of a good masseuse, Carla goes still abruptly, and it takes her a moment to convince her her hands back into motion, smoothing down each side of Saya's spine. She's going to need to move to the side of the table in a moment.]

I don't know what you did to me.

[synanthrope]

[Saya laughs a little]

No, but Blonde seems to think I did something.

[dignity_misery]

It wasn't a difficult line to follow.

[She's not entirely sure if Saya knows how much Blonde has confided in her, and she's uninterested in stepping over those boundaries.]

[synanthrope]

Did I do something?

[dignity_misery]

[She purses her lips for a moment.]

He told me how you accounted for Orange leaving the garage.

[And then he had gotten the account from White himself, but maybe Saya knows that entirely too well by now.]

[synanthrope]

[Saya turns. She looks a touch more dangerous]

But that isn't what I asked, is it?

[dignity_misery]

[Her hands draw back, hanging in the air uncertainly.]

I left you intoxicated. It wasn't the candy.

[synanthrope]

So you're saying I did.

[dignity_misery]

Yes. And you can tell me I'm wrong.

[synanthrope]

Yes. I can.

[But she won't. She just turns back, facedown.]

[dignity_misery]

[Carla will take that answer. It's enough for her, even if her hands are initially hesitant to return to their work. Still, her hands fan at the small of Saya's back, thumbs pressing in.

She came here for a reason, it wouldn't do to disappoint.]