(no subject)

[hebeimmortalized]

Jillie is feeling pleasantly sore in places and ways she hasn't in way too long. Paul's gone to work, and she's letting herself out so she can get some cigarettes, some condoms, and a candy bar. Her clothes — which are actually his clothes, because she'd gone to his apartment in a bikini — are haphazard on her body, but she doesn't even care.

As she locks the door behind her, she looks up to see who else is moving around. It's not early, but it's still early enough that Jillie's surprised to see anyone else in the hall.

Then she realizes what apartment the other woman is coming out of. Paul's neighbor. She can't help a smug little grin.

"Hey," she says.

Comments

[hebeimmortalized]

"Ugh, it's this dumb nursery thing," she says. She quotes the rhyme to Jyn, then rolls her eyes. "As we got older, it turned into this weird thing that kids would say to make it sound like Jack and I were fucking each other."

[nextchance]

Jyn may not understand what the point of the little rhyme is, but she makes a face at Jillie's explanation, that much telling her all she needs to know. "That's disgusting," she says, then pauses a beat. "Did you punch them? I'd've punched them."

[hebeimmortalized]

"Oh, yeah," she assures with a laugh. "I'm pretty sure that's about the same time my parents were like, 'uh, let's get her into sports so she doesn't kill people.'" It'd been a nice way to channel her aggression, at least, until the schizophrenia had gotten the better of her. She wonders, briefly, if Jyn's noticed her scars, and then decides abruptly that she doesn't care.

She realizes, sort of suddenly, that they've just been standing in the hallway, and gestures vaguely for Jyn to follow as she starts to walk. She needs cigarettes, and apparently coffee, if her brain is only now catching up to this fact.

[nextchance]

Jyn lets out a laugh of her own, deciding against mentioning that the closest thing she'd had to a parent had her doing exactly that. While she may not be much for pulling her punches either physically or verbally, it isn't exactly the greatest thing to drop into a conversation shortly after meeting someone that she'd been a child soldier, and had, by sixteen, known a variety of different ways to kill someone. At least Saw made sure she was well-trained and capable of defending herself — and then some — before he abandoned her.

Following along easily as Jillie starts to walk, she just about smiles, the expression crooked but genuine. "Did it work?" she asks. "As an outlet, I mean. I've always been... angrier than anyone really knew what to do with."

It's half a lie — Saw knew — but it's close enough to the truth. She sure as hell doesn't know what to do with herself now, when she's all aggression and there's no longer a war to fight.

[hebeimmortalized]

"It did, yeah, til I went crazy," she says with a shrug. Sometimes, it's easier to just blurt it out and get it into the open. She doesn't watch Jyn's face for her reaction. Instead, she looks steadfastly ahead of them as they walk, uncaring of the way her tits bounce under Paul's shirt, or the way people look at her because of it.

[nextchance]

"Yeah?" Jyn asks, brow raising, though she doesn't seem particularly fazed. Crazy could mean a lot of things, and nothing about Jillie has seemed noteworthily unusual to her so far. Then again, given the circumstances of their meeting, that's a bar set fairly low. It isn't every day she strikes up a conversation with a woman who'd been having sex next door the night before, both of them fairly audible. "Crazy how?"

[hebeimmortalized]

"Oh, uh, I hear voices? I'm schizo, and sometimes it's a little out of control. For the most part, I'm good, though." She shrugs a little, adjusting the shirt and looking to Jyn for her reaction to this new information.

[nextchance]

Given how different the galaxy she lived in tends to be from the world most people here are familiar with, Jyn isn't actually expecting to hear a term she's familiar with. Maybe it's for that reason that she doesn't find herself particularly fazed. "Well, that's what counts," she says, and shrugs. "There are worse things than being crazy. I'm glad you're good, though. For your sake."