hebeimmortalized | (no subject)

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people: the girl

(no subject)

Dec 8, 2016

Jack is at work, which is good, because he needs to work, but it's weird, because he's not here. Jillie has seen a huge change in him since coming here, and she doesn't know if it's only because of one thing or another, but it's visible, palpable, and she likes it.

She's been hiding in his room since he left, feeling a bit like an intruder. This isn't what Dr. Kapoor had in mind. She's lucid today, almost painfully so, and the forefront of her worry comprises doctors, therapists, and medication. These are things she needs, things that she requires to remain functional, and that she doesn't have them is triggering some anxious behavior.

She's pacing, feet scuffing softly against the floor. She's pulling and tugging on her hair. Her mind is starting to fill with noise, a steady swell, like someone is turning the volume up.

She fumbles into her pajama pants, pulling out her cigarettes. She only has two left. She lights up, hands shaking, and pulls a deep, long drag.

Jack is probably going to kill her for smoking in his room, but she doesn't dare go out into the apartment yet. There's someone out there, but what if they're not as understanding as Jack, as Poison?

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"You don't look alike," Jillie says. The words seem more like they popped out than like she really meant to say them, but she also doesn't look apologetic for blurting it out. "I didn't know he had a kid," she amends. "But, yeah, I've met him. He's in love with my brother?"

"That's because he never put his dick anywhere near my mom," says Dee, with a sunny, bright smile. "Doesn't mean he isn't my dad though."

Jillie opens her mouth, then closes it again. "No, it doesn't," she agrees. Dee doesn't act like she's about to break. Jillie finds she likes it. "And you live here, too?"

"Yeah, I do," says Girl, nodding her head. When her tea is ready, she blows across the surface of it. "Back where we come from, Poison's been gone since I was six. I'm eighteen now."

Jillie frowns. "Jack had said something about this place messing with time," she says. "My brain doesn't like time enough as it is. Was he here, this whole time? Since you were six?"

Girl shakes her head.

"He was dead," she was. "BLI killed him when he was twenty-three and I was six, but then I was on my own for twelve years until I met the Witch and ended up here. And he's still twenty-three."

"He died?" she says, feeling sick. She drags on her cigarette and holds it in until it burns. "Is he still dead?" she asks around a plume of smoke. Jack says there's magic here. Are there ghosts, too? Is he sleeping with a ghost?

"He's alive here," says Girl, sipping her tea. "I've tried not to think about it too much. I figure that the Witch knows what she's doing."

Jillie doesn't know what that means, exactly, but she doesn't hold much stock in fate or the like, not the way Jack does.

"Huh," she says softly. She rubs the inside of her forearm idly with the thumb of the hand holding the cigarette. "This place is fucked up, huh?"

"Sometimes, yeah," says Girl. She doesn't see any point in lying to Jillie, not when she asked straight out like that. "But it's a good place, too. Especially when you come from somewhere like I come from. Clothes nobody's ever worn before. Cute boys. Cute girls. Whatever you're into."

She tugs at her own top. "It's probably gonna be a while before I have a wardrobe again," she notes. "The hospital was pretty limited."

"Yeah, I can imagine," says Girl. "We could do some shopping on line for you. Buy you some things you like the look of. I don't think you could wear anything of mine or Poison's because..." Her eyebrows raise. "Awesome tits."

Jillie looks down at herself. "You think so?" she says. "I think they used to be smaller, but then I put on weight."

"And that's supposed to make you less hot or what?" asks Girl, eyebrow raised. He might have died when she was six, the first time around, but she'd definitely picked up some of Ghoul's finer qualities. "Man, I wish I was tall like you." She sips her tea.

Jillie laughs a little and drinks her water. Her cigarette is nearly to the filter and she sighs as she stubs it out against the outside of the sill.

"Being tall is over— Oh-ver-rate-ed. Growing pains, hitting your head on things, tripping a lot. Being compact, you get to avoid all of that."

"Your brother is unreasonably fucking tall," says Girl, laughing a little, kicking her heels against the cabinet. "But you're like...statuesque." She rolls her eyes. "You want to take a look at my laptop? See if we can find some clothes you like?"

Jillie nods. "Dr. Kapoor was letting me use a laptop while I was in my room, since I was getting ready to leave the hospital." She slides off the counter by the sink and pours some water from her glass over her cigarette butt. No need burning the house down, right?

She feels a little proud of herself for thinking of that, then follows Dee over to her laptop.

Dee folds herself into one corner of the sofa, her laptop on her knees, leaving room for Jillie to sit down as far or as close as she's comfortable with. She types in the address for her favourite store in Darrow.

"So what kind of clothes do you like when you're not in PJs?"

"I don't know," she admits with a little shrug. "I think I used to be really fashionable? But that was probably years ago, now, and I guess I just like to be comfortable. Nothing with sharp edges." Figuratively and literally, she thinks.

"Okay," says Girl, starting to flip through pages. "Something cosy. Layers. What about colours? I like bright colours, Jack tends to wear a lot of earth-tones, but I think you would look super awesome in...red? Purple?"

"Not too many layers," she says. "My meds make me run warm, I don't want to get claus—" Her eyes close briefly. "Claus-tro-pho-bic." She rubs her hands together and reaches up to play with her hair. "Maybe a jacket I can take off and wear around the house and stuff." She pauses, then says, "Maybe something with a bow. It doesn't have to be a jacket."

"Right. I used to live in a desert so it was either, like, scorching hot or freezing, but the radiation meant you need to cover up most of the time." She finds a pretty shirt with a bow at the front; it's a bit too girly for her, but she thinks Jillie would look great in it. "Like this?"

Jillie smiles, and wistfully says, "Everything is cuter with a bow on it." She nods; its sleeves look loose enough for layering, if she wants, but it looks like it could handle being its own shirt, too.

"We should get you something for your hair, too," says Dee, adding a few things to her cart. "Something really pretty that'll keep it back out of your face."

Jillie imagines an elastic headband, the stretchy kind that goes over the head and gets pushed back over the forehead. Then she imagines a wire or plastic form headband with a bow or flower on it. Then she imagines small clips. None of those mental images end well.

"Not . . . right now," she says uncertainly.