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Graveyard, Sunday Afternoon

Bay had picked up just enough about the weirdness going on to know she wanted no part of it. She'd mostly stayed in the relative safety of her room, sketching and listening to music.

In other words, it wasn't that different from any other weekend.

But by Sunday afternoon, it was clear the weird wasn't either dangerous or affecting her. Going out seemed relatively safe. It was in a vaguely melancholy mood that she took a shortcut through the graveyard and spotted a pretty, petite dark-haired girl with wicked eye makeup.

"Hey," Didi said cheerily. "What's up?"

"Getting something to eat," Bay said. "I don't know you, do I?"

Didi smiled at her. "You don't, but I know you."

That weirded Bay out more than a little, but it was clear the Goth chick wasn't any kind of a threat. And, as they kept talking, it turned out Didi was right -- and had some helpful advice to boot.

[OOC: Open post with minor OCD to come!]

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Before or after Bay shows up! SHE IS HERE FOR ALL.

Edited 2013-07-28 19:27 (UTC)

Arguably this happened before Éponine had lunch with Frank, or maybe it was just that no one had bothered to get this fic beta-read for things like blatant chronology fail. Let's just say it was the former, and she was on her way to meet Frank for lunch when she just happened to pass by the graveyard.

"Oh, hi," she said when she spotted Didi; she was totally into the Goth look herself. "Your makeup is amazing."

"Thanks," Didi said, touching her eye swirl with one fingertip. "I've had a lot of time to get it right, you know?"

"Yeah?" Éponine sauntered further into the graveyard and perched atop a headstone nearby, casting a scrutinizing look at Didi. "So like, isn't this all kind of heavy on the cliché, you know, the outfit and the makeup and the hanging out in graveyards?"

"So what if it is?" Didi asked. "I'm Death, and I like the way I look. You guys should be happy I'm not rocking a robe and a scythe."

"No, really? Get the fuck out," Éponine scoffed, but she seemed more curious than mocking. She fumbled in her jacket pocket for a pack of cigarettes and lit up with a fancy-looking (and stolen) lighter. "I don't know. The robe and scythe might be pretty cool. So, are you here looking for someone, or just relaxing?"

"Hanging out," Didi said. "Seeing old friends. I get time off too. Sometimes it takes me here."

She eyed the cigarettes. "You know those things will kill you."

"So then I'll see you again," Éponine said, shrugging. "Whatever. If they do I don't really care."

Oh, wait. Now that she had Frank she had a reason to live, right?

"Well . . . okay. Maybe this is the last one," she said slowly.

"Good," Didi said, and somehow from her it didn't sound condescending. "So ... what else is on your mind?"

Not that something was really off about her, sadly. She didn't realize that.

"Do you ask all the strangers you meet personal questions like that?" she asked, though it was more idle curiosity than animosity. "Or do you have a freaky sense of knowing these things?"

"Yes to both," Didi said, unperturbed. "I like asking personal questions. You don't find out anything if you don't ask them. And just about anybody has something or other on their mind."

"Do people ever give you shit for asking?" wondered Éponine. Not that she was feeling as recalcitrant as usual; she actually felt in the rare mood to share. "But fine, sure. I've got stuff on my mind. Like I always wonder why the hell I'm still here, you know?"

That was actually true all the time.

"Sure, sometimes I get shit," Didi said. "Not usually. Most people are flattered to be asked."

She rested her chin on her palms. "Here as in the graveyard, the island, or the whole Earth thing?"

"I'm here as in the graveyard because I was walking by and you looked cool enough to stop and talk to," Éponine said, something in her tone suggesting that most people didn't warrant that kind of diversion from her routine. "But on the other two points, yeah. I don't get that."

Didi shrugged. "Do you have to?" she asked. "Life is short enough. Even shorter if you waste it looking to understand things that don't make sense."

Éponine shrugged and took another drag off her cigarette, staring off into the distance.

"That's why it weirds me out. I never expected to make it this long," she admitted with less reluctance than usual, and that was also true under normal circumstances. "And I was okay with that. Looking forward to it, even. And now . . ."

She shrugged again.

"Now you want to stick around?" Didi prompted. "Like, actually pick something to do when you grow up, all of that?"

Her tone was casual, even cheerful, but her dark eyes were full of sympathy.

"When I grow up," Éponine echoed, awkwardly, as if the phrase was unfamiliar. "I haven't gotten that far yet. I'm still getting used to wanting to stick around."

"There's a lot more stuff if you stay," Didi said. "Food. Birds. The great outdoors. Graveyards with interesting living people in them."

"You know," said Éponine, once she'd exhaled a long stream of smoke, "I'd have laughed at you for saying that a few months ago. I wouldn't have given enough of a shit about any of it, but I'm starting to see the draw."

"It's all got a way of getting under your skin," Didi nodded. She wandered over to sit on a convenient bench. "So, what changed for you a couple months ago?"

"Seriously? Coming here." Éponine considered that for a moment, then shook her head. "Okay, no, that's not exactly right."

She ground out the cigarette butt against the side of the headstone she was perched on, then started to peel the paper off the filter as she spoke. "It's things here not being total shit, I guess you can say? No one's breathing down my neck to make me what they want me to be, or looking at me like I shouldn't have the right to exist. I -- there was one person in my life who didn't completely suck before, and then he was gone, and I had no idea what the point was any more. Then, surprise, I end up here, which is a long and messed-up story, and bigger surprise, there are other people who don't completely suck. That still breaks my brain sometimes, but whatever, the point is I didn't think that was possible before."

Brood. Talk to Bay. Hunt demons. Make gravestone rubbings. And so on.

So I maybe missed Didi a little bit :-).

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Graveyard, Sunday Afternoon

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