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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Dee's sprawled on the sofa, watching a movie. Jack had caught him up on Jillie before he headed out to the Zen Center. Don't touch her. She's not great with new people. Try not to freak her out. When the door opens, she looks up and smiles.

"Hey there," she says, idly scratching the ruff of Cat's neck. He's curled up on her mid-section. "I'm Dee."

Jillie freezes for a moment. Her cigarette, already half-smoked, is pinched between two fingers and held halfway to her lips. She stares at the girl. Jack had told her about her. Jack had been careful to tell Jillie about everyone she needs to worry about, whether or not they're someone that will worry her. She swallows and holds her cigarette up a bit.

"Anywhere I can go to smoke this without stinking up the apartment?" she asks. For a moment, she's able to focus on calming one part of her at a time. Not upsetting Jack while she smokes is one of her priorities.

"You can smoke it in here," says Dee, rolling to her feet. "Kavinsky smokes in here, sometime. Just crack a window in the kitchen." She rolls up off the couch. "C'mon. I'll do it for you."

Jille follows more slowly. She's still wearing the clothes she'd come here in. Jack's been sharing a little, but between her tits and the weight she'd gained, she's bigger than him, and this girl, so she can't exactly wear those clothes longterm. So she just changes back into the pajamas she'd arrived in.

Once at the window, she leans close, and reaches to run her fingers along the sill.

"No chains," she notes.

"Nope," says Girl, perching on the edge of the counter and reaching to flick the kettle on. She pushes one hand into her springy hair, rearranging it. "Free as a bird. You look really like Jack, you know. It's kind of weird."

"We're twins," Jillie says. "We're supposed to look alike." She drags from her cigarette, then ashes it out the window. "At the hospital, they used to chain the windows, so I couldn't throw myself out." She shrugs. "I don't think, even at my worst, I would have. But I guess I don't know."

"Yeah, I suppose that's true," she says, and she can't help but think of Vamos and Vaya, out there in the desert, their bright colours smeared against the sky. "Don't do it right now, okay? I'm pretty sure I couldn't catch you." She smiles. "You want tea, Jillie?"

"Water," she says. "I don't know if I really like tea." Never mind that she and Jack and Poison had had some just the other day. Jillie isn't great at remembering some of the details she'd like to remember. It's like her brain has so much going on inside of it, it can't always keep up with little things, like tea.

"Okay, I can do water," says Girl, sliding down off the side and going to the cupboard, grabbing a glass and then grabbing the pitcher out of the sink. "I'm Poison's kid. You've met him, right?"

"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?"