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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Go home, they had said.

There's no place for you to sleep here, they had said.

And so she obeyed. Hinamori trudged half-asleep, half-awake down the blustery sidewalk, paying little attention to the world around her. It seemed so long since she had been outside, since she had felt able to leave the claustrophobic halls of the hospital and walk in the open air.

Her purse dangled loosely from her elbow, carrying a wallet and keys and a paperback book halfway falling out. She almost missed the slight brush of a girl not much bigger than she, and the strange lightness of her bag. She stopped, turning to look behind her as she realized what had happened. "Wait," she croaked after the girl, "Please, stop."

Eponine had long since bundled the purse into the rags of her skirt, hiding any evidence that she had taken it. She had been pickpocketing for a long time, and was practised in hiding her finds quickly. She didn't look at the girl who spoke to her, and instead walked nonchalently in the opposite direction, as if she hadn't even heard the shout. Of course, she had heard it, and inside, she was nervous. People didn't usually notice until it was too late and she was long gone, or they had met a grizzly end at Montparnasse's hand. But this girl had. Eponine's face didn't betray a single flicker of emotion.

Hinamori hesitated, considering. There was nothing of tremendous value in her purse, and if the girl who had taken it was truly in need, perhaps she was better off letting it go. And yet—it irked her sense of justice to not put up a fight.

She closed her eyes, pushing away the tiredness that clawed at her mind. Even on the city streets, she could follow the feel of a human's spirit, and recognized the one that had brushed past her. Hinamori gathered her strength for a single flash-step, pushing off the ground to appear almost instantly in front of Eponine. She turned on a heel and looked the girl directly in the eyes. "Please," she said gently. "This isn't the right thing to do."

Hope was used to a set schedule; awake by a certain hour, activities within so many minutes, work, eat, work, rest. Rinse and repeat. Sometimes he lost track of that time when he was working and researching and generally a little too involved in his books or paperwork or experimentation. Then, it would usually be Alyssa who reminded him that he hadn't eaten, slept, or even left his office for so many hours (or sometimes when he got really carried away, so many days).

It was just normal to him. Normal to, in fact, just about everyone employed under the Academy. Work hard, because time was slowly running out, and they needed solutions, inventions, and plans to survive as soon as possible. Everyone knew what would happen in the future; the real question was always what could be done to minimalize the damage and ensure that the human race survived.

Here, though, it was like time had stopped. It was a reprieve from the ticking clock that Hope had gotten used to all his life. A reprieve he couldn't get used to, because now it was all about... other things.

Like picking up groceries after work.

And, it seemed, noticing someone who didn't quite belong in a crowd. Enough to catch her hand before she was quite gone, making sure not to draw the attention of the crowd as he said lightly, "That's a dangerous line of work."

Eponine started back, startled. How had that girl appeared in front of her? Eponine had been walking the other way. And yet-

"Are you magic, mademoiselle?"

Lets avoid the subject of the purse, because looking into that girl's eyes made her feel incredibly guilty. She wasn't about to hand it over, though. Finders keepers and all that.

She twisted her hand immediately, trying to wriggle from his grasp. It was plain that she had attempted to take his wallet. There it was in her hand.

Eponine was scared. In Paris, she could lose her life for such a theft, or at least earn years upon years in jail for it. She didn't know what the consequence would be , and she didn't want to find out. As scared as she was, refused to let it show. Instead, her face wore a sulky expression, and she kicked out at the man who held her.

"Let go. Don't know what you mean. Let go!"

He let go of her when she kicked out, taking a step back, looking a little surprised but never quite losing his calm.

"Keep calm," he said, voice still level. "You might not want to attract everyone else's attention."

He shifted his stance to something hopefully a little less threatening with his bag of groceries, and nodded toward the wallet. He never carried much with him, although the credit card would be irritating to cancel, and if she ran took off right now, he would just have to call and explain that he needed a new ID card for Violet Systems.

"People here may be arguably more dangerous than where you're from, and many don't wait for the law."

She narrowed her eyes.
"What do you know? You don't look like you're from Paris."

Certainly not from the part where Eponine existed - resided being too pleasant a word for her habitat. And in St. Michel, street gangs ruled and violence was rife. And Eponine was usually in the thick of it.

She held out the wallet sulkily. It was reasonably well made. At home, she could have sold it on for a few sous, even if it was empty. At home, she didn't often get caught. But there was confusion in her eyes too. Why was this man taking a nice tone with her? Was this a trick before the police were called?

"No," Hope confirmed even as he gave a nod of thanks while taking back his wallet. "I probably don't know anything of the sort."

Academia might have been a city constantly undergoing construction, but ten years had it the most beautiful and majestic city on Gran Pulse already. The blueprints Hope had contributed would take at least several hundred more years to complete, but that was if they were expanding most of their workforce on the new Cocoon rather than the capital city. He had spent well over a year going other the five hundred level city with architects and designers to make sure that everything would work.

And with the automated computer systems, crime was kept at minimum. There was just no such thing in the city. There had been very little crime in Palumpolum where he grew up, either, so criminal activity at Siren's Port had been a near shock to him.

"But you're a Newcomer, right?" It was easy to tell when most people didn't like interacting with Newcomers. When some people had accents and looked a bit lost. "Newcomers should stick together. And, I know that many people here have powers that usually aren't seen in other cities, countries, or worlds. Powers added to the dislike of foreign people in their homes tend to add to violent confrontations."

He paused to let that sink in and process. "You need to take care, here."

"What do you mean, powers?" Eponine looked at him suspiciously. She hadn't seen much of the Port so far and so didn't know what he was talking about.

She hugged her bare arms to herself. "Monsieur, you must take care everywhere. Otherwise, you will find yourself waking to a man leaning over you, or your possessions gone, even your pillow - or else you will not wake up at all. I know how to look after myself."

From her determined and serious expression, Hope would have to realise that she was speaking the truth. An unfortunate truth, one that had contributed to her gaunt cheeks and sunken eyes. But Eponine was proud - and quite unaware of just how terrible she looked - but proud that she had survived so long on her own.

"Abilities and magic." He answered easily in an almost textbook manner. But then he stopped to listen because... that had felt like something only Siren's Port had when he first arrived, but learning about other worlds and societies had made him realize how utopian his was. It didn't matter how he had grown up or what had happened, his society had found ways to heal and take care of just about everyone.

In the wake of disaster, people had just banded together to ensure no one got left behind. Perhaps that was not so in other worlds.

"That may be true," He agreed with her, and then considered, shifting the weight of his groceries again. It was getting a but cumbersome. "But I'll assume your Greeter didn't manage to tell you much? There are a lot of important things to know about this place."

He gestured with a hand. "There's a cafe at the corner, if you'd like some food and drink. I can try to explain things if you'd like. There'd be lots of people there, and we could sit outside if you'd feel more comfortable."

The question made Hinamori freeze. It was strange, being here where humans could see her. She sometimes forgot that not everyone knew what she was. "No," she answered, "well, yes, perhaps, sort of..." The girl had thrown her for a loop. Because despite her looks, Hinamori was a hundred and twenty-five years old, and she couldn't help but have compassion on Eponine, who was... exquisitely young.

"I'm... something like a ghost... or a god," Hinamori said. "But I'm human, too, just like you. I don't want to hurt you. I just... want my things back." There was kindness in her eyes; firm disapproval, too, but also kindness.

He wants to take her to a cafe?

Eponine isn't bothered about magic, abilities - or else, she IS, but all thoughts of fairy-tale sounding magic goes out of the window when food comes into the equation - because Eponine is permanently hungry.
But - but why is he offering her food? Even Marius didn't often buy her food. So why was this man, who didn't know her, offer? He must want something.
Would it be worth it?

"What do you want in exchange, monsieur? I have no money." Now that he had retrieved his wallet anyway.

A god?
But God was a man. And he was only for rich people.
But still, Eponine was absolutely determined.

"I do not have your things, Mademoiselle." She could look Hinamori in the eye with practised ease. Eponine could lie with the best of them. And she wasn't going to give up her find without a fight.

Yosuke's wallet isn't full of anything useful at the moment. In fact, it's nothing but a fare card for the trains, an extremely hopeful emergency condom, and a business card for his social worker, underneath which he hid the one for the therapist, because that's even worse somehow.

He's clearly not a kid with much going for him at the moment, wearing wrinkled hospital scrubs and a mask, with big dark circles under his eyes and a bit of pallor to boot. Still, he manages a smile for the pretty girl when she brushes past him, and he doesn't even notice the lift. He probably won't, until he's trying to get home that night.

Well, poor him. But, more importantly to Eponine, poor Eponine. What good is an empty wallet? She doesn't bother to read the cards;it'd take her too long. She doesn't know what the condom is, either. She had never seen anything like it in her life.

And the lad who she had lifted it from; he looked as bad off as she did. Eponine sighed. The wallet was no good to her. And he might give her a reward for 'finding' it. She ran back after him.

"Monsieur? You dropped this."

Monsieur? Ooh, that was a new and pleasant way to be addressed. Even though Yosuke knew very little French aside from loanwords and words derived from it during some war or another his grandparents might have cared about, he perked up a bit. It sounded so pretty, rolling off that girl's tongue.

"Oh. Sorry. I mean, thanks. Hah. I must be more tired than I thought. I probably put it in the wrong pocket."

As a way of explanation, he tucks his hands into the sweatshirt he's wearing over the scrubs, showing off that while on one side the pocket is fine, the other side is ripped wide open at the seam. He smiles under the mask again, and rolls his eyes at himself a bit in a friendly, self-effacing way.

"Thanks, again. Creed-san would have killed me if I called and asked him to get me a cab home." But he laughs, so apparently the killing would have been of the metaphorical sort. He takes the wallet from Eponine, and lets his fingers brush hers lightly, flirtatiously. "I don't think we've met."

"You are a long way from home, Monsieur?"
Eponine looked in concern at the outfit. She had never seen such a strange collection of clothes - especially the mask. Why did he wear it? Eponine couldn't connect it to a hospital.
She also couldn't see that he wasn't talking literally either. In her home, if someone said they were going to kill you, then you were a marked man. Hence why Eponine was so scared of meeting her father; his last words to her had been a promise that he'd make her scream.

"Then it is indeed good, monsieur. We would not want you dead."

She's surprised at the flirting, unsure how to take it - but remembers her profession. She flashes her best flirtatious smile.
"My name is Eponine Jondrette, Monsieur. It is not a long while since I have been here."

She wanted to ask his name, and how long he had been in the Port, but that was rude. She would wait until he told her himself.

"I'd like to see you in a safer occupation, but that's not something you're obliged to do." He started walking in that direction, slow enough to see if she'd go or not. "Other than that, it's just food. And you look hungry. I know the owner of the cafe, and she's not one to let people go hungry if she can help it."

Because that was something that Hope focused on as well, and he knew that Sakura wouldn't mind. Not to mention, Hope had never given money much thought other than whether there was enough or not.

"Also, all Newcomers should know how to survive around here. There's no need for recompense."

"Hanamura Yosuke." Yosuke replies easily. Though he can't even begin to wrap his tongue around her name, and he frowns thoughtfully. It's a nice name to listen to, however, and the smile makes the frown disappear anyway. "I'm a greeter-uh, I used to be, anyway. So if you-"

His nose wrinkles up under the mask, and he sneezes. Haku!

"Sorry." Sniffle. "If you have any questions, maybe I can help?" Of course, he assumes that Eponine is teasing about the death and whatnot, so his good cheer never goes anywhere, and at the encouraging signs from her, he steps a bit closer. She looks a bit worn, to him. And delicate, with her soft vowels and the sweet skirt. Instinctively, he wants to protect her.

Of course Eponine followed him. She was actually amazed. She still couldn't fully understand the man's motives - because of her 'every man for himself' upbringing, she had never been taught generosity, or witnessed it in practise. But she thought that Hope was the best man she had ever met. And she wanted to learn more about the magic he spoke of.

"I do not have another job. Just... I can't do anything. Maman says I am a dolt, and my father says the same." there's a peculiar blankness in her voice.
"Monsieur, this is a better way to live, compared to..."

"Hanamura Yosuke..." Eponine tries her best to pronounce his name well, but she stumbles over the unfamiliar sound.

"Monsieur, you are ill?" she plunges her hand into her skirt pocket, and pulls out a lace edged hanky, made of silk and embroidered with 'RM' in the corner. It's obviously not gers, but she offers it to him.
"You can have this." she smiled that flirtatious smile with practised ease. She could hold it forever. And at his words, she decides to ask a niggling question.

"Monsieur, what happens after the first month, if I have no money?"

Yosuke laughs a bit at that, though it ends in a cough. He's used to people stumbling over his name in the Port, which is hilarious to him. In Japan, it's so commonplace it never even warrants a yawn. But her question makes him stop, and tilt his head. He reaches for the offered kerchief first, but allows his fingers to link with hers.

"You never have to worry about that, alright? I promise."

For him, it was a certain privilege while growing up that allowed for that manner of thinking. A little bit because he had grown up with a wealthy family and had not lacked for anything material, and partially also because he understood just how hard his parents had worked to keep him that protected.

Enough that the prospect of parents not fully supporting their kids is a shock to him, no matter how many times he's heard from people over the Network and the news here about children running wild or terrible parents. Enough to have him falter a step, and to bring more seriousness to his next words.

"There's no one who 'can't do anything'." He responds. "In fact, everyone is capable of very important things. Sometimes, you may have done something important without even knowing it. There's no one who 'can't do anything', just as there's no one person who can do everything. That's how humans are: people work together, sometimes in little ways, to accomplish something. So most frequently, it's not just what you can do but also who acknowledges it.

"It doesn't have to be only two choices. This is a new world. A fresh start. Whatever was said in your old home doesn't have to apply here."

She is surprised when he takes her hand. Why on earth would he? The usual men don't try to touch her- not her hands anyway, unless they're holding her down. But this boy, he was not violent at all. 'Ponine couldn't imagine what he wanted. She doesn't move though . If he would rather have that... She keeps her smile in place, even laughs.
"I am sorry, Monsieur. I have never heard of such a name. It is not French, is it?"

She wonders too, why she will never have to worry. Does he want her as a live-in mistress? Usually, that was reserved for the pretty girls, the blondes with big eyes and fair complexions and colourful dresses who teemed the streets. Not gutter children like Eponine who was malnourished and ragged.

But perhaps things were different here. Playfully, she asks,

"And why need I not worry, monsieur?"

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Old habits die hard...

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