poly_chromatic | (no subject)

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oc - saya wallace

(no subject)

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!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Sleek and lovely as always, Saya. Nigel looks at her, approvingly, before tipping his chin upwards, leaning in close to study the way her eyes adjust focus when he's that much nearer. His eyes are dark blue as always and undeniably intent. ]

Would you like it if I gave them to you now?

No.

[She touches his face, as usual, carefully, smoothly]

I would like it if you kept them now.

[ He lets her, holding still, almost obedient in the wake of her attention. ]

They'll go to waste, once I leave again.

[She considers that, and takes his hand, leading him, now. Anyone watching would think they were together, affectionate. In a way this is how Saya can be affectionate.]

I can take them later, then. Put them by my bedside.

[ Again, he seems to take some pride in that. Nigel Colbie has never been on for 'relationships' not in any true sense of the word. The last woman he loved had been his mother and, in exchange for her love, he'd cut off her head. It perhaps surprises no one that this is his way of expressing desire or appreciation or respect of some sort of Saya.

She leads him and he follows. He watches the way her shoes negotiate the pavement as she walks. ]

I doubt your guests would appreciate that.

[ Saya has two bedsides; Nigel knows. One guests see; one, no one does. ]

Not there.

Where you can watch me sleep.

[Her heels land perfectly, her fingers hot against his skin. She didn't put her gloves on, and this is intimate]

[ He exhales a laugh, his hand shifting in hers. Fingers moving along the inside of her wrist, feeling for a pulse or perhaps just more of that unnaturally warm skin. ]

I didn't think you were capable of sentiment, Saya. You must have missed me.

I have my own form of sentiment, I suppose. Or maybe the cruelty of making you watch me fuck whoever I wish isn't in my mood today.

[ Nigel bristles but only slightly. At the moment he's too busy enjoying the fact that it's him that's been chosen for the time being.

Still, he doesn't sound amused when he says dryly: ] Been busy, have you?

[Her fingers tighten against him]

On your autopsy table.

[ That gets him to stop and to pull back on the hand offer to him, tugging Saya back towards him to bring her face close to his. Nigel seethes suddenly, his mood mercurial when it comes to these sorts of things. ]

How indelicate of you.

[She turns, using the momentum to get closer to him than usual, their hips slotting together]

I suppose it was.

[ It doesn't get the rise out of him that it would another young man his age, or arguably any man of any age. But Nigel isn't most boys. He sneers at her, his breath hot against her face. ]

Does he know?

What you are? That you gave it to me? [ Nigel's lips curl away from his teeth. ] What I did in that room and the presents I brought to you after?

[She looks directly at him, her eyes light, but flat]

No.

He doesn't know about me. About you. About what you are to me.

No one knows.

[ That tempers some of his apparent anger. Not much, though. Nigel smolders. It's as close to passion as she's seen from him. ]

And what am I to you, precisely?

[Her hands go around his waist]

You're the only one who understands, of course.

The need for perfection.

[ He allows it, lets her draw him in as close as she wants, his eyes moving slow and deliberate across her face. Curiously he reaches up and touches her chin, urging her mouth open. Her secret hides within, he's felt it. ]

You. Are perfection, Saya.

[Her mouth opens, obediently - it looks so normal, so usual.]

That is flattery, isn't it?

[ It looks so normal. He knows it's not. He's tempted to slide a finger inside to be reminded of all the ways it isn't. ]

I would have rather enjoyed taking your head.

[ Maybe that's flattery too. ]

You know you wouldn't have succeeded. I would have had to kill you.

[ He doesn't so much as bat an eyelash. ] Would it have made much difference, in the end?

I'm dead already.

Yes.

I would have kept you.

[ He actually smiles at that. ]

Not in a jar on your bedside?

[She turns and holds his hand tightly]

All of you.

I've never done that before.

[ The corner of his mouth curls, making his smile go lopsided and boyish. He is rather fond of you, Saya, even without your lack of sentimentality. ]

I would have let you either way. I would have brought you the loveliest of things.