"I beg your pardon?"
"Don't mistake my meaning," he said, squinting over at me."I find you gorgeous.There is beauty even in the slow decay of an animal in the woods, given enough distance.I am commenting on your...How do I say this… your own sense of self, in a way."
"I don't think I'm plain," I said.
"You may not, but there is an emotional core, some deep-rooted seed of unconscious thought in your mind, your heart, your soul, that tells you you are naught but a basic individual, a cookie-cutter reprint of others, another gerbil on a wheel."
"I said I'd take off my clothes, not my psychological hangups," I said.
"Clothing allows one to hide their body, and further, to hide their communication.Clothes allow us to veil our intentions from one another.There is a vulnerability with nudity that communicates more in a silence when exposed to one's partner than can be said in a lifetime's worth of spoken words."
"You're a freak, Nagi," I said.
"And yet you are so compelled by this that you come to me to seek me out.You have come to me three times now.Once when I lay dying.Another time, to save my life.And now that there is no present danger, you come again.Perhaps you seek to overcome your normalcy by embracing that which is different, that which you find—on one level or another—grotesque."
I paused.
"Yara said you've been having bad dreams."
Nagi stopped, paused, and blinked slow, his eyelids closing for some time.
"My dreams are troublesome," he said."They don't concern you."
"How do you know?"I asked.
He paused another slow blink and then opened his eyes again.
"Not everything is about you, Stacey," he said.
I was saved a reply by his phone ringing.He sighed, put down his brush, and then stepped back from the canvas.
"Come and look at this while I take this," he said."It's Brynholf."
I slipped my blouse and skirt back on, trying to make myself feel more put together, and then walked around to the canvas.There was a suggestion of curves—what may have been a black stroke indicative of a smile—and then some squiggles.I turned my head, stared at it, and then turned my head in the opposite direction.Didn't make much sense any way I approached it.
"Yes, yes, I see.Alright.I have Stacey with me now.Shall I bring her?"Angry squabbling on the phone.Nagi rolled his eyes."Yes, yes.We'll be there in twenty."Nagi snapped his phone shut, and then smiled a soft, sad smile at me."And away we are called.Ever onward to yet the next adventure."
"What's going on?"I asked.
"There's been a murder," Nagi said."The blood spatter indicates it's a supernatural death of one sort or another.New paperwork protocol indicates when the Chicago PD get involved, we have a task force composed of two members of the council that go to work together."
"That sounds… exhausting."
"You have no idea," he said."I'll have Yara drive us."
On we drove,charioted, as it were, by Yara.Nagi and I were quiet on the ride over.It was still full-sun out, and Nagi's windows were tinted dark.He wore sunglasses and a large-brimmed hat.We were taken clear across town, all the way to what looked like a part of the city that was… well… not well-taken care of.
"Look at all these streets," I said.
"Withhold your judgement," Nagi said.
"I didn't say anything," I said.
"You didn't have to.We've shared blood.I can feel a tingle of your emotion as it dances in your mind."
"That's intrusive," I said.
"Just look at the decay around you," Nagi said."Take a hard look at these slums and the knock-together nature of the way the city is planned here.Consider, if you will, that my observations are coming from someone who was once human but now no longer has that as a limitation on my perception."
