(no subject)

[synanthrope]

[The camera is expertly handled this time, and it shows the Garage. Saya is currently dressed to nines in expensive couture, as usual, despite the fact that she's working on cars. She has her head under the hood of a car, her hands inside doing something unseen. The camera pans away from her for a moment.]

The Garage is an immaculate place; despite being home to constant repairs, everything is in it's place, much like the owner, who works every day no matter the condition or the holiday.

She attributes this to the work ethic instilled by-

[The narration is cut off by a sudden loud thump, and the camera pans back to Saya just in time to see her, holding the back of her head, stumble back a couple of steps, and then there's a snap as she falls at precisely the same moment, like a marionette with cut strings, not fainting as much as simply collapsing, her limbs tucked under her in odd ways]

Sy-

[Her voice stops and she looks, confused, at the heel of her shoe, which is no longer attached to the rest. The heel snapped off.]

That's never happened before.

[She looks up at the camera for a moment, and then it shuts off.]


[ooc: Action for Garage employees, audio for everyone else. She'll be going to the hospital eventually! Italics are the documentary narration.]

Comments

➝ strange new creatures to scavenge your pores

[pike]

[ Since his arrival in the City (or, rearrival, as it were), Nigel has taken to moving about the warehouse in his spare time to familiarize himself with spaces he can no longer recall. The building itself has proven to be something of a puzzle in and of itself; not because its hallways and doors are perplexing, but because Nigel knows that they hold secrets. His secrets are locked away in a room that Saya had given him the key to for Christmas (steel operating tables, a drain in the floor, and so much white tile that wipes down to brilliantly clean whenever there's a mess made). Rosella, he imagines, keeps so secrets -- at least not ones worth pursuing; her secrets are probably defined by things like manners and appropriateness. Not danger, not the knife's edge between life and death, the way Nigel's are; the way he images Saya's are too.

So he searches when he is alone in the house. He searches until he finds something.

And today is to be his day of days. ]

action;

[orangetoughguy]

[Oh shit, son. Orange rolls out from under another car to stare at the downed fashionista mechanic. No it's not the way she's dressed that surprises him. Saya never teeters or totters on her precious heels.]

....

[Get up, Newendyke. He rolls off his rolling panel to scramble to his feet.] Saya? [Where's that grunt?] Eames!

[cold_dry_pieces]

What was that?