sirenspull_logs | Old habits die hard...

Entry tags:

Old habits die hard...

Who: Eponine and anyone who happens upon her
When: May 21st
Where: Sector 5
Summary: Eponine, terrified that the luxury of the newcomers' apartments will be snatched away from her, is up to her old tricks. She's found the richest area of town she could, and is on the look out for anyone she can pickpocket or who would be interested in 'entertainment'.
Warnings: Eponine will try her best to pick your pockets. So, I guess, if you're the type to swear... language?

Eponine had been in Sirens Port for a few days now. She didn't really understand what had happened, how she'd ended up here, or why. Or really, where here was.
But in her opinion, ANYWHERE was better than France. Especially when that 'anywhere' provided her with the most luxurious room she had ever had all to herself, AND gave her food. It was more than Eponine had ever dared to dream would become a reality for herself.

But Eponine was all too aware that dreams ended. And she was determined, that when this dream ended, she wouldn't be thrown back into a nightmare empty handed.

Which was why she was stood in the shadows of Region 5. After exploring, she had determined that this was a more affluent area of town, and the people here more likely to be carrying valuables. She stood, waiting patiently, for a target to walk past. And then, on silent feet, and with a featherlight touch, Eponine would be pushing her hand into their pockets to take anything she could.

((ooc: So Eponine is pickpocketing. Feel free to catch her nicking your stuff; I have an open-write policy, so I will go with whatever you dream up for her!))

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"You're a prostitute."

It's a mournful statement indeed, but he's sure now. It's the only explanation that makes sense. Crap. His mom would be livid if she knew. A few minutes ago this was the coolest thing he'd ever done, but somehow it's become the stupidest thing this rapidly.

Eponine is ashamed. So ashamed of herself. But she puts her chin in the air and forces herself to meet Yosuke's eyes.

"And what of it, Monsieur?"

She puts on her proudest, haughtiest voice to hide her disgust at herself.

Yosuke watches this, and then goes back to rubbing his face. He sighs, and the next bit is mumbled from between his fingers.

"I didn't know. How could I not know? I just thought you were new and you needed-"

A friend? Is that what he was going to say? Ugh. It is. Suddenly he's disgusted too, and it's not all with Eponine. Hasn't he had a conversation like this with Shika already? If she hadn't been taking advantage of him, he definitely would have been taking advantage of her.

He heaves again, even though it's just muscle spasms at this point. It's painful, and pathetic, and what is he supposed to do with the hooker he accidentally brought home? Damn it.

"You did not know?"
Eponine is suddenly aghast. She moves away from him quickly, dragging on her grubby clothes. Oh God, he's going to get the police and have her charged for assault pr worse, and she's never going to see the light of day again. Unless they execute people putside here. A flicker of fear spasms across her face, before she makes herself hide it. Ok, plan. She'll tell the authorities he knew. Better, she'll say nothing. Not give the satisfaction. So what if she hangs or loses her head? She'd be dead within a year from hunger or cold or murder anyway. But there's one thing she doesn't understand.

"You did, Monsieur, you did. You must have. You brought me home? Why would you bring me here if you did not want my service?"

"I thought you were alone, too."

His head is in his hands again, and he's mumbling through his fingers. Gods, it's throbbing. His brains are probably going to start leaking out, soon. He groans again, and it almost trails off into a whimper before he gets hold of himself.

It's an embarrassing thing to admit, but at this point there's no end to the joke that is his life, as far as he can tell. Anyway, it's the truth. Sure, she had seemed a little desperate for company, but he knew the feeling. He certainly hadn't kept speaking to her thinking that he was doing her a kindness. He'd been unable to believe his good fortune to find a hungry, lonely, desperate girl in need of rescue. What a joke.

Some knight in shining armour he was. He'd let her-oh, gods. He heaves again, loud and miserable and painful. There's nothing but a bitter dribble of bile to bring up, but he kind of deserves it, really. If he's totally honest with himself, there was something in the back of his mind trying to tell him that something was off all along. He knew he should have stopped, but-

But it had been so nice. Not just the end, although that had definitely been nice. More than nice! Wonderful. But even long before then, he'd thought that he ought to send her home. Only, he'd wanted her to keep talking to him.

"Ugh..."

Yosuke slumps miserably back on the couch, pressing the heel of his palm into his eye socket, hard. His brain, -shit- it's definitely going to burst out of his skull at any moment.

"Sorry. I-I didn't know, but I should have."

Edited 2012-08-24 06:55 (UTC)

She dabs at his mouth with her skirt, anxious for him not to be any more sick on her account.

"Monsieur - Yosuke - there is nothing to be sorry for."

She smiles wanly. Truth is, she does need rescuing. Not literally, like Yosuke thought (though she's not going to say no to food or clothes). But she is in desperate need of friends - people who will stand by her and support her and show her a life that doesn't have to revolve around fear and crime and prostitution.

As much as she tries to hide it, Eponine looks completely terrified. She is so scared that Yosuke will call the police; she's been locked up before and she did not like it one bit. She doesn't even know if she should be getting dressed, or whether he wants her to stay naked. Although that suddenly seems embarrassing.

There's a large bulge in her throat too, which formed when Yosuke said that he thought she was lonely. She is so lonely. And she hates to admit it. Hates to admit that she's absolutely terrified of being in a city she doesn't know with people who seem to have powers and things she could only dream of, where letters play images and water comes out of a tap and candles are hardly ever used to light anything. She hates to admit that she's completely overwhelmed and scared and in need of help. She hates to admit that she can barely sleep in her beautiful Starter flat because she's scared it's just a joke, or that her father will appear with his gang and beat her senseless as he promised to do.

She pulls the chemise on over her head, hiding her face in the dirty material, trying to master her emotions. She's annoyed at herself when her voice wavers and breaks as she replies.

"Monsieur, I... I am alone. All alone."

Yosuke tugs his shirt back on while Eponine speaks, and glances around for his boxers and jeans. He sighs, quietly, totally spent in about a dozen different ways.

"Listen, I don't-that is...thank you. Uh. But no thank you. I don't...I don't want to be your client, okay?"

He rubs his face again, and gingerly steps into his pants. He feels like shit that's been run over and then backed over and then run over again. He pulls a sour face.

"But since I already owe you I guess...let's go lay down? I feel too sick to go get your money now, and I don't-"

Want to be alone, alone. Being alone together has been so much better. Even if it was a lie, it was still enough.

"I'll go brush my teeth okay? There's...my bed's in that room. You can borrow something to sleep in if you want. Just...stay. I-if you want to."

Edited 2012-08-26 20:41 (UTC)

Eponine has NO idea what has just happened. Fair enough, he doesn't want her services - that had been apparent for quite a few minutes now - but Eponine still blushed in shame when he mentioned her clients. She truly hates working as a prostitute - loathes it. Worse than pickpocketing or thieving or even rifling through dead people's pockets. But sometimes it is necessary. Like when she ends up in a scary city completely alone and frowned upon for being a newcomer even before she is frowned upon for her clothes. She feels like she should explain all of this to Yosuke, but she cannot make the words come out. He would not care anyway.

But why is he not sending her away? Is it a trick whilst he goes to get the police? She's seen those magic things where people can just talk and others can hear. Miserably, she takes her skirt, and slides into the bedroom, pulling it on once she's behind the door. And only there, in the relative privacy, does she allow herself to sob silently, for everything that happened before she came here, the robbery, Marius' lost love, her father's threats - and for what has happened since. She'll stop as soon as she hears Yosuke coming though. Eponine refuses to be weak enough to cry when someone else can see.

He comes back a few minutes later, with his face and his teeth scrubbed clean. But he frowns a little to find her still standing there. Ah, it's probably weird. She probably feels awkward.

"No offense, but you really can't wear that dress in my bed. Okay?"

He opens a drawer and pulls out some shorts for himself, and then another pair. From the next drawer, he takes a couple of t-shirts. He grabs the wall for a minute, dizzily, then gives her a curious glance.

"Unless you don't want to-I mean, I know it's no fun to hang out with someone who's-" His nose crinkles distastefully "-y'know. Throwing up chunks."

Which he's pretty sure he's done with. Hopefully.

She wipes her eyes hastily as he comes in, barely noticing his frown. At his words though. her confusion grows just a little. Was he not horrified to find that she was a prostitute? Did he no longer care? Wordlessly, she stripped her tattered clothes off again, so that she was once more stood naked in front of him.

But then - fun? None of this was particularly fun for her. Where exactly was Yosuke going with this?

"I... I don't mind - uh - hanging out, Monsieur... if you want me to stay?"

You know, because of the whole 'freaking out because she's a prostitute' thing.

"Woah!"

Yosuke covers his eyes and shoves the clothes he's just taken from the drawer out in Eponine's direction. Holy crap. What part of not looking for a prostitute is confusing, here? Jeez.

"We don't hang out naked anymore! That's-! Here. T-take these. Put them on, alright?"

"I thought you meant -" She sighs and takes the proffered t-shirt and shorts.

"I am sorry, Monsieur." She drags them on quickly. Of course, they don't fit, and she has to keep hold of the shorts to keep them up. She's still puzzled though.

"Have you alerted the police on the... the magic thing? Is that why you want me to stay?"

"What are you talking about?" He peeks cautiously between two fingers, and relaxes when he finds her dressed. "You don't have to stay, but I'm telling you, I can't go get money for you right now. I think my stomach actually turned inside out. I really need to lie down for a while."

"The police. Cognes. Bogies. You have called them on me because you are cross?"

She shakes her hair back, and puts on her most defiant face.

"I do not care so you need not lie, Monsieur. I am not scared of them."

Except that she is. A lot.

"You're kidding, right?" He groans, and makes his way to the bed. Almost as an afterthought, he pulls the trash bin closer. He's pretty sure he won't need that, but better safe than sorry.

"I just got out of juvie, thanks. And I've still got parole. There's no way I'd call the cops up, I'm staying as far away from them as I can get." He rolls his eyes, then presses a palm to his still unhappy stomach, and curls up on his side, facing Eponine.

"You're free to go if you want. Since you know where I live you could come back tomorrow for...uh. You know. Um, anyway. No one's making you stay. Seriously. Alright?"

"For the money?"

She bites her lip - it takes a lot of effort to say,
"It is okay. You didn't know. And we did not agree on a price, did we? So it is my loss."

She sits down, not on the bed, but on the carpet, behind the bucket.
"You were in prison? But you know nothing."
She means that he is naive.
"What did you do?"

"What a weird way to kick me when I'm down." If he's a bit disappointed about her not wanting to cuddle, he'll try not to let it show. That's...probably not the sort of thing that prostitutes usually have to do, actually. So instead he teases her some more.

Though his cheeks go pink again at the money talk, and pinker still on the matter of his past crimes.

"Uh, that's...thanks. I'll buy you dinner sometime? That's...ugh. A-anyway! The uh, that is, I don't think it's the same as prison, besides the locks on the doors. Um. But yeah. I guess I, uh. Borrowed a car from someone once. Without asking. From a stranger. But it was mostly an accident, I swear."

She looks down and away as he teases her. She doesn't want to make him ill. And she's never cuddled anybody in her life. She's scared she'll be too bony. But all the same, she moves obediently to the bed, listening with interest.

"You are a thief?" just like her! What a strange thing to bond over.

"I am not!"

He groans, and hides his face with the hand that isn't cradling his stomach.

"It wasn't on purpose, you know? I didn't even realize I was going to do it until I was like eight blocks away."

She shrugs.
"Still makes you a thief. In France, you'd hang if you stole a carriage. No excuses. But it is okay... I have been in prison too. For thieving. But they had to let me go. And my Papa had to escape. There was a nasty surprise."

"A girl made me do it!" He takes the pillow from under his head and curls around it instead, tucking his knees up against himself. "It wasn't even my fault."

She laughs.
"Such excuses - you are a man and you allow yourself to be bossed by girls?"

In France, such a man would be called a Macaroni and laughed at. Still, her laugh has a bitter edge.

"My..." What is Montparnasse? Her boyfriend? Husband-though-not-in-the-eyes-of-God?
"Montparnasse and my Papa made me thieve and entertain the men, but still it is me who is blamed."
She reaches to rub his back lightly. "You will vomit?"

"She used magic!" Did she just call him a sissy? Wow, that sucks. He's totally sick here, can't she just be nice? He whines a little, but stops when she rubs his back.

"Ugh, I hope not. There can't be much left by now, right?"

Eponine has no sympathy at all. Who ever cared when she was sick? It's something you deal with and get on with, not mope about. What good will whining do?

"And 'Parnasse used his fist. Same effect, I shouldn't wonder, M'sieur."

She wrinkles her nose. "I do not know. It is your stomach, is it not? Do you feel you will be sick?"

"What?" He's not really following her stories, but it's probably for the best. The last one made him sick. He groans again and hugs the pillow more tightly. Somehow every time he thinks of certain things, he feels sicker.

"I don't think I can do it anymore. I'm pretty sure something important will come up next time."

And apparently, he's not finished with his whining yet. He crinkles his nose, like a little kid presented with vegetables. But he doesn't forget that he owes her, accident or not.

"Listen, when I feel better I'm going to call a friend. He can make a new dress for you, since that one is so old. Is that fair?"

Old habits die hard...

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