sirenspull_logs | 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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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?"

"Never mind..." She mumbles, cross at her lack of self control on blurting out about Montparnasse. Cross with Yosuke for not listening... though what does he owe her? She owes him, really, for assaulting him if he did not want it... and for making him sick.

"Take a deep breath and you will not throw up...."

He wants to get her a new dress? But... that costs far more than what she gave him.
"Monsieur, a dress is expensive. And I cannot pay you the extra.... and I made you sick. How many times now? Two? Three?"

She sighs. A dress would be nice, but she's not going to admit that she wants it so badly she'd have sex with him all over again.

"Really?" That's news to him. Though he's never had to buy a dress before, he'd always assumed it wasn't much worse than men's clothing. Apparently that isn't the case, though. He shrugs a bit, around his pillow.

"He'll probably give me a discount, don't worry."

Her face lights up in pure joy.

"You will give me one? Really and truly? A new dress for me? Really? I haven't had a new dress since I was a child at the inn. And for so long have I wanted one! You will really get me one?"

That explains a lot. Yosuke makes a face, then remembers himself and puts a more neutral expression back on. "Sure. Why not?"

Eponine looks at him curiously, her jubilant expression fading fast.

"Did I say something wrong, Monsieur? You wish to laugh at me?"

She holds her head up, and says in her proudest voice, "I was not always what I am now. I was brought up well until we lost the inn, and then I have HAD to do these things. So do not judge me, Monsieur."

"That's got nothing to do with it. The dress you have now is just...dirty."

Okay, so it still isn't very nice. But it's not quite as mean as what she was expecting of him, apparently. Yosuke sighs anyway, but his stomach is almost starting to settle a bit, maybe. It's a good time to try and get some rest. He pats the space beside him on the bed.

"If you're staying, let's sleep, okay? If you want to leave, I hope you can find the door. I don't think I should get up to walk you out right now. Alright?"

She shrugs. "It is not that I wish to be - it is just I have nowhere to wash it and nothing else to wear whilst it dries."

She bites her lip whilst she decides. Go back out into the cold and try to find a paying customer? Or stay in the warmth and sleep in a bed - and hopefully get fed later?

After a minute, she goes to perch on the bed. "Thank you, M'sieur."

That much is obvious anyway. No girl would ever choose to be dirty if she was able not to. It's why he offered her the new dress, in fact. But he's too tired to bother reassuring her. Instead, he slinks an arm over her lazily, sharing his excess of warmth with her.

"It's nothing. Shh, let's sleep."

Old habits die hard...

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