025 x 520 // accidental video // 可愛いですね～？

[dignity_misery]

[Carla is frowning at herself faintly in a mirror, her cheeks flushed very pink, clearly embarrassed with all of this. Her face is almost as pink as the teacup dress she's standing in. There is a childish sulky tone to her voice when she murmurs,]

...why does she even have this... [She lifts a hand to her hair uncertainly, toying with the fluffy little accessory that's been pinned into her dark hair.] Did someone give it to her as a gift?

[With one leg still in a tall cast she takes a few careful hops backwards to sit down on the edge of a bed, staring down at bare feet, toes curled - (why so much pink?) - against the floor. Her voice lifts, actually speaking to someone,]

I'll have to try your shoes another time.

[It's when she turns to look in that direction that she sees the phone. She had thought it had been tucked out of sight in her jeans, but apparently she was wrong. The realization makes the color in her cheeks darken, and her lower lip blossom into a full pout. Huff.

She defends herself lamely,]

I have better taste than this. [Most days.]


[[ooc; Nope. Couldn't resist. Open action to folks in the warehouse, cause... that's where she's at. Tsun tsun 8(]]

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[dignity_misery]

[With her purported 'dignity' on the fritz, she's not much in the mind to protest this repeated embarrassment, holding on as she looks at the water warily.]

So you're not dumping me in the lake.

[intheblanks]

Swimming would be excellent physical therapy when you're not dragging round your own anchor.

[No, he's carefully navigating a trodden down path through the water weeds and over to the little platform, a little slimy in the corners but for the most part clean enough to sit down on. There's a small pile of flattened rocks messily tumbled into one of the murkier corners.]

I come out here, sometimes.

[So now she knows, when his mood doesn't take him to the beach, or the bar, or home. It's one more place.]

[dignity_misery]

[She used to dream about drowning, frequently. Occasionally, she misses it. It would be something familiar. That's not really her current mindset. At the moment she's peering at her reflection. She really is awful cute, what can she say.]

It's quiet.

[And now she knows, one more little thing to tuck away and keep.]

[intheblanks]

That's why I come.

[He crouches for a stone, smooth, flat and round, surface flecked with quartz glitter, and offers it across.]

[dignity_misery]

[She's distracted by said glitter, turning it over in her palm. It's also a poorly kept secret that she's very tactile, the cool sensation of it against her fingertips is nearly as interesting. Still, she won't claim not to know what she's meant to be doing with it, even if she's hesitant to try with an audience. She's not known for her steady hands on a good day.]

It's quiet in the warehouse too.

[She purses her lips, trying with her off wrist, but the stone only gives one meager jump before disappearing.]

[intheblanks]

Different kind of quiet.

[As a rule, it's the only thing that bothers him about living in Saya's converted not-quite-a-home. Raised in a home where too much quiet meant something was wrong, he misses the ambient noise of an apartment. Neighbours letting themselves in too early or too late. Cleaning. The occasional irritated rap of a mop handle against someone else's ceiling under his feet.

So he goes out. By the beach or the pond can never be quite as alone as it feels to be behind a locked door.]

You're letting it go too early.

[Dropping a few more stones into a jacket pocket, he presses another into her hand and, this time, holds it there, working her wrist through a circle of motion.]

Not rotating properly because you're afraid you're going to drop it.

[dignity_misery]

It's always reminded me of the studio.

[A place that was always quiet because Barbet did not care to talk to her, nor did he desire any interruptions to his work. He hadn't wanted to hear her screaming either, so she'd cried to herself silently and pulled her skin apart instead. Maybe on a different day she would be better about hiding the dolefulness of that.

Although she thinks she's doing a good job of it, looking down at where he has her wrist, being attentive to that instead. She is afraid she'll drop the stone, frowning slightly. In focusing too hard on that part, the angle comes out too steep and it goes straight down through the water. Sigh. She sticks her hand into his pocket to try again.]

[intheblanks]

Maybe staying's a bad idea.

[He catches her, holding back the attempt until he's aligned his shoulder behind hers, using the pale stretch of her arm as a sight guide, his fingers pressing the trigger points of her wrists, steadying it on the throw. Though there are always the fine motor skills her fingers lack to account for. The stone skips once, then settles.]

[dignity_misery]

So is leaving.

[That sulk touches her mouth again when she says it. She's not pleased to admit that, but it's what the choices have begun to look like to her. She wants somewhere familiar but the apartment is lonely, while the warehouse is oppressive.

She doesn't reach to try again immediately, folding her hands in her lap to pick at her nail polish in agitation.]

[intheblanks]

I have- [He screws a corner of his face up as if it's a count that requires effort] -three places here last time I checked. I'd be a hypocrite for disagreeing with that.

[Getting to his knees, he sits, far enough back that the still-shoed soles of his feet hanging off the side of the platform don't quite touch the water.]

How long did you stay there?

[dignity_misery]

...the studio?

[She's stalling when she says that. He knows where she's been since coming to the City, the answer seems a bit obvious.]

[intheblanks]

[It's a two-for-one question, and an answer will tell him more than just how long she lived with her ex. But the basic detail is obvious, so he leans back on his hands, looks up, and nods.]

[dignity_misery]

I don't know. [It had all blended together, eventually.] Three years, maybe.

[She had died in the winter at age 25, halfway to her 26th year. She'd made her wish in the fall, just after turning 29. Not quite four, but she had been with him, all that time. Not living, not living at all.]

[intheblanks]

[He holds up a hand. There's no test, no rock to throw, just an offer.]

You left after your wish?

[dignity_misery]

[She's... willing to take his hand, but not keep looking at him, turning her attention back out on the water.]

I don't know. [It was hard to resist going back. The idea that he could forget her made her sick to her stomach. That feeling has changed in the City though. The thought of seeing him again is terrifying, soothed only by Saya's promise to kill him. A promise made because they both knew Carla was too weak to do it herself.] Eventually.

[Nowhere that felt like home.]

[intheblanks]

Think you'll ever leave for good?

[It would sound a strange question, maybe, to someone with no notion that everything she is or does is still somehow wrapped in him.]

[dignity_misery]

[She shakes her head, her voice lowers to almost a whisper because it's not a cute thing to say at all,]

Not until one of us is dead.

[intheblanks]

[He'd be a hypocrite if he couldn't understand that, either. He curls his fingers inward against hers, tugs down lightly.]

Sit down?

[It's not too dirty on these wooden boards.]

[dignity_misery]

[She doesn't do it immediately, looking sullenly and stubbornly to the side, but she's also not leaving without his help, so she uses his shoulder to ease herself down, situating her legs and her skirt in fussy little motions.]

[intheblanks]

[So prissy. It makes him wonder if she took pride in her appearance, once. In fact, it almost makes him smile.]

We need to find something more productive for you to do than ripping things apart.

[We've got to stop you rotting.]

[dignity_misery]

It's fine.

[What is this We.]

Isabela will come with me.

[There won't be any more impromptu trips to strange doctors. That's all she expects he wants to hear.]

[intheblanks]

I didn't say you needed a monster killing support network.

[And in Chase's book, two women possibly being killed in the underground is worse than one.]

It's not fine. It's not changing anything. You're using the fact that you're afraid of not being able to do what you used to [He's kept her hand, and presses another river rock into the palm.] not to do anything at all.

[dignity_misery]

[She closes her fingers around the smooth stone, drawing her hands back into her own lap, keeps her eyes there.]

I don't know what to do.

[intheblanks]

What used to make you happy?

[He doesn't ask 'what would', because even today a cute answer doesn't seem on the cards.]

[dignity_misery]

[She looks confused for a moment before it drops out of her mouth distractedly,]

Puzzles.