psl for abrightboy : sex shop

[abyssum_invocat]

The sex shop was something of a new experience for Sinthia; she hadn't ever had a very long-lasting relationship, certainly not one that had gone far enough to have this involved. She was looking at the sets of wrist restraints the shop had, vaguely dissatisfied that they were almost all black. There was a pair in soft pink--much better for someone who absolutely disliked black and red, though that was quite a long story--that the clerk was strapping onto her wrists in short order.

When they were clipped together by a short metal linkage and tugged on playfully by the store clerk was where she had a problem; pulled into conditional balance on her toes over the glass counter was not a position she wanted to be in, public or no.

"Unlock them. Right now," she said calmly, but hurriedly.

Comments

[abrightboy]

"You should make sure you can unlock them yourself," said what was undoubtedly a familiar voice from behind her. "That's key." A beat. "Don't get ones that need a key, by the way."

[abyssum_invocat]

The frission of tension running up her spine would be visible to someone watching for it as Sinthia jerked her hands back, very quickly unfastening the wrist cuffs as she turned and abruptly relaxed. She recognized Malcolm; had recognized his voice, too, but not being held in an awkward position helped.

"I'm...I've never been locked into anything that I was supposed to have the ability to get out of," she said. Clearly this was going to be more involved than she'd anticipated. "I can unlock them fine when I can reach the buckles." Unfortunately, the short clip-link hadn't permitted that.

[abrightboy]

"That's because these are.... all wrong," he told her. He stepped over to the counter and took a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Hi. I work with the NYPD. I'm looking for someone who purchased these items from this shop," he explained, handing the paper over. "Can you see if you have any information? CCTV of the customer would be great."

He didn't wait for an answer before turning back to Sinthia.

"The cuffs might be all right, but you don't want to cuff your hands to each other. You want to fasten each arm to the bed frame or the wall underneath it. Whichever is sturdier. You want a lot of play in the straps that connect the cuffs to the hardware. You don't need to be immobilized; you need it to stop you from getting out of bed. You still need enough room for natural movements in your sleep."

[abyssum_invocat]

"Oh, it would be the wall," she murmured, handling the leather cuffs thoughtfully. "I'm not sure how much of my sleep movements are natural. I tend to thrash."

She brushed a hand over her hair wish a soft sigh. "Do you usually walk people through this?"

[abrightboy]

He looked confused by the question. "Who would I ever walk through this?" he said rhetorically. "Everyone moves in their sleep. If you have night terrors, then the thrashing would start three to four hours into your sleep cycle. In lighter phases of sleep, you might roll over or move your arms or legs. Less drastic movements. If you're immobilized, you'll feel trapped. That's not the point of this."

[abyssum_invocat]

"I don't know. But you seem to be doing it remarkably well right now," Sinthia said, as close to admitting she'd like the help as she's likely to get.

"I don't now exactly when they start, I've never tried to time it. But not getting out of bed would be a helpful start." She'd tried to take a drill once to her own temple in an attempt to relieve the pressure of hearing voices and other people's dreams. "So longer straps, and nothing that requires a key," she repeated. "The cuffs themselves are comfortable, they don't cut into my skin."

[abrightboy]

"I've been using them for almost twenty years," he pointed out. "And if you ever studied parasomnias, you'd learn that pavor nocturnus - night terrors - almost always start between the third and fourth hour of sleep. You know. If you want to get clinical." A beat. "You probably don't. Anyway. I would suggest getting custom straps, because you'll want to base the length on where you're anchoring them and you'll want stronger hardware than they typically come with."

The clerk returned. "I don't have CCTV but I have a credit card number," she told him, handing him his piece of paper back along with an additional piece of paper.

"Thank you," he told her politely, tucking it into his coat.

[abyssum_invocat]

Sinthia eyed Malcolm for his comment about how long he'd been using the restraints; he certainly didn't look that old. But her face schooled itself back into careful neutrality again quick enough. "I...may look it up," she said slowly. Very little about her worked as it should, but it was worth learning.

"You seem well-versed in nightmares," she added. "Thank you."

It only takes another second for her brows to crease. "She's lying. She has a camera."

[abrightboy]

"I've had them every night since I was eleven and then I studied psychology. I should hope I know a thing or two about nightmares."

He caught the voice inside his head and frowned faintly, then turned to the clerk.

"Are you sure you don't have a camera?"

Where is it? he tried thinking very clearly.

[abyssum_invocat]

She huffed out a laugh, tilting her head down so that the woman behind the counter couldn't see her eyes unfocus, staring blankly at the leather cuffs in her hands. "Eleven, you started late." It might be a little teasing--a little.

"Between the mannequins, behind the mirror. It's two-way glass," she said wordlessly, voice calm as it rang in Malcolm's head. "Just above her head."

[abrightboy]

The clerk looked at him warily. "I think I'd know."

He pointed at the mirror. "What about there?"

[abyssum_invocat]

Sinthia looked back up at the clerk, glancing at Malcolm and at the mirror, but staying silent for the moment.

"I--it's just a mirror," the girl said, feigning confusion as she glanced back at where the camera was positioned behind glass. Sinthia smiled very lightly, an lifted a hand, leaning over the counter to touch a fingertip to the mirror's surface, appearing to touch her own reflection.

"It's two-way glass," Sinthia refuted gently. "There's no gap in reflections."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm raised an eyebrow and the clerk relented.

"We're not supposed to breach our customers' privacy for anyone."

"Well this 'customer' sexually assaulted three women to death with the items he bought here, so I think your best strategy here would be voluntary cooperation."

She swallowed hard. "I'll get you the tape."

"Thank you."

[abyssum_invocat]

"Did someone really beat three people to death with things from here?" Sinthia asked, once the clerk girl had turned the corner to get the tape. To her credit, the emotion in her voice wasn't elevated, she didn't present as excited, nothing that would signal for concern.

Interested, maybe. But the way she scanned Malcolm's face would almost certainly give her the answer to her earlier question, visible in the minute firming of her mouth before it relaxed.

"What will you do to them once you find them? This customer?"

[abrightboy]

"'Beaten with' is.... not entirely accurate. It was... much worse than that." He looked at her at her question. "The police will arrest him," he said as though it were obvious. "That's what we do."

He watched her carefully; he was starting to recognize her 'looking for something' face. Especially as it pertained to looking for something in his head. "What are you looking for?"

[abyssum_invocat]

"What you meant when you said 'exually assaulted to death'," Sinthia replies honestly, though lightly. The gentleness of her facial expression stopped abruptly at her eyes, still sharp.

"And how you use your restraints." It's easier to mimic and modify than anything else. "Do you want me not to?"

[abrightboy]

"You don't want to see those crimes scene photos in my head. Trust me." He tilted his head towards the door. "I live in SoHo though. Not far from here. If you want, I'll show you how I use the restraints."

[abyssum_invocat]

"Hm," she said. "Trust, but verify. They didn't bother me much."

KGB motto: she'd learned it young. The photos didn't particularly upset or affect her; she'd seen (and done) comparable. It wasn't pretty, but she hated wondering. The human mind could conjure much, much worse than things usually were. "I'd appreciate it. If you don't mind showing me."

[abrightboy]

The clerk handed him a DVD.

"Thanks," he said, tucking it into his coat. He looked at Sinthia. "This way," he offered, heading out the door.

His loft was a short walk, and soon he was opening the front door of the building and then leading her up the stairs to his own door, opening it with his key and letting them in.

He shrugged off his coat and hung it on the hook near the door, then turne to Sinthia. "Do you want some water or tea or... coffee....... or..... scotch, I guess."

[abyssum_invocat]

She hesitated taking off her coat for a minute, hands on her lapels and looking around his apartment, noting quick exits and places to not get trapped.

"Oh--tea would be lovely. Thank you," she murmured, focusing on the far wall with all the weaponry.

"That is quite a collection. Good quality."

[abrightboy]

He stepped into the kitchen and put the kettle on, looking over his shoulder at her when she mentioned his collection.

"Thanks. It took a long time to source them all. There aren't any replicas; they're all authentic to period."

[abyssum_invocat]

"They're beautiful," she said softly, moving after him with gentle clicks of her heels on the floor. "Must have been expensive."

His apartment was nice; very different from her own, and starkly modern, but it had enough light to not feel oppressively closed-in. "Do you use them all, or are they only for display?" she asked, gravitating towards the glass cases.

[abrightboy]

"Display. Largely." He glanced over. "I've been known to throw axes now and then."

[abyssum_invocat]

She couldn't help a little laugh at that, turning to look over her shoulder at him again. "Really? I've never done that," she said, trying to picture Malcolm with an axe in hand: it fit surprisingly well, making the edges of her mouth lift in amusement.

"I meant...I didn't know if you used them for a martial art," Sinthia clarified belatedly, realizing it had sounded questionable at best, the way she'd asked.

[abrightboy]

"I don't," he admitted. "Some of them are hundreds of years old. I don't want to damage them."