(no subject)

[synanthrope]

These days come around and all that happens is that everything gets loud. But there are so many interesting people.

You may come into the Garage as long as you don't touch. Sticky fingers make enormous messes.


[ooc: do what you will!]

Comments

[featherstorn]

[He tilts his head, when he answers he sounds terribly smug with himself,]

Hello, Saya.

[synanthrope]

Hello.

I don't usually do birds.

[featherstorn]

[His head tilts back the other way, and he jumps down from the rafters. It's the boy who lands, however.]

Better?

[synanthrope]

[She paces around him, a quick click-click-click]

Much.

You're in one lovely piece, Barbet.

[featherstorn]

[His eyes light up, letting her circle him, but smiling at her over his shoulder as she goes.]

You recognize me.

[synanthrope]

Yes, I don't miss much.

[featherstorn]

You'll show me your cars, won't you?

[synanthrope]

Of course I will.

[She leads him across the Garage to the Porsche.]

[featherstorn]

[He moves with a sway, resisting the initial urge to hop along after her.]

Where did she find such a pretty thing?

[In such an ugly little town.]

[synanthrope]

I have ways. People bring cars, they leave them, I adopt them.

[featherstorn]

Adopt them... A strange mother.

[synanthrope]

A good one, considering how I treat them.

[featherstorn]

[He gives her a charming little smile.]

Of course. Strange and good can meet.

[synanthrope]

They can.

Like in you.

[featherstorn]

[He makes a fluttery, pleased little sound. He's always happy to hear about how lovely he is.]

I'm the better half.

[synanthrope]

Better at what?

[featherstorn]

[Le sigh. Don't get him started.]

She bleeds. She weeps. She screams.

[Disgusting, his lip curls.]

I'm more fun.

[synanthrope]

She was fun the other day.

[Said with a twist to her smile]

[featherstorn]

She's been better.

[No. She's never good enough, and he will tell her so always and forever, chirp chirp chirp.]

[synanthrope]

And how would I get best out of her?

Tie you up?

Make her beg?

[featherstorn]

[That is a fascinating thought, and it shows on his face.]

Maybe. Make her shake all over. Ask nicely.

[He runs a hand back through his hair.]

She can't do it, on her own.

[Crippled, just like his lovely birdy wings.]

[synanthrope]

You love him, don't you?

[featherstorn]

No.

[He doesn't hesitate to say so.]

Want. Not love.

[synanthrope]

Good.

He's not capable. And neither am I, but no one really would love me.

[It's not self-pity, it's a fact]

[featherstorn]

Love is want. With lies and empty promise.

[Lies like 'only' and 'forever' and he thought it was nonsense.]

She likes comforting. Pathetic lonely bug.