[ ACCIDENTAL AUDIO / ACTION FOR SAYA ]

[shifts]

[ The audio clip opens up with a song in the background of the general noise of Saya's garage, warbled mildly for the sheer expanse and echo of the space they work in, muffled too for the fact that the device is tucked away in Eames' back pocket. It accompanies the mild, soft whirring sound of a few fans keeping the garage cool as Saya works on

Comments

[shall_yield_us]

Why, it barely bleeds the ears.

[shifts]

Refreshing, isn't it?

[shall_yield_us]

So is hellebore to the full stomach, and yet, and yet, and yet.

Well, I suppose there are worse poisons. Not very many. Not very many uglier.

[shifts]

Not a fan of music, are we?

[specifics]

No one can argue that.

[shifts]

No one of the correct mind.

1/2

[specifics]

No one with taste, basically.

private || unhackable.

[specifics]

Also, Pancake got one of your shoes.

Not a big loss but...

[byweavinglives]

That's a terrible argument. It suggests that we should listen to it just because it's better than the rest.

[She's curled over a box, her legs going in their usual strange directions]

[shifts]

Wouldn't you listen to something better than what's available? Seems rather sound to me.

[ He peers over toward her, brow raising. ] Are you searching for something?

[byweavinglives]

I like the sound of silence.

[She looks up at him, and curls her legs even closer to her body.]

Gears. I like the sound of clockwork more than music.

[shifts]

Clockwork? That's a rather peculiar preference, wouldn't you say.

What is it? The repetition?