[ She deletes so many messages. Types and deletes, feeling lost. The hope of it is what catches Vi off guard. It's what scares her.
They've fallen into a familiar, if somewhat strained pattern. The truth (the truth they both know and won't acknowledge) is that neither of them really knows how to be the other's sister anymore. How to coexist, in that symbiotic way that used to feel so natural, easy as breathing and nearly as important. Most days, they barely see each other.
Vi examines the chipped purple nail polish Jinx had put on her a week or two ago. ]
Yeah, yeah, loud, blaring music? That's my speed. [She tries not to get caught up on the fact that Vi wouldn't really know that.
It isn't like the radio usually has much good to listen to, and if she is blasting any music it's usually when she's in her makeshift workshop.] Less the people and the drinking, but hey, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.
Exactly! This place has to be useful for something, right??? It's certainly not the food. [she misses Home and knows how screwed-up that is for her, but that's Situation Normal for her.] You take the shit drinks, I'll take the music.
Actually, you're a fighter, you can probably dance, huh?
[ Questions she should have to ask. It's different from when they were kids sharing a room, playing together. Did they dance then?
Blasting music from the jukebox in the Last Drop when no one was around during the day. Making stages out of tables. Making forts and ramparts out of chairs, fighting to the imaginary death with imaginary armies against Claggor and Mylo and Ekko. Haphazardly nailed-together wooden swords and sticks clacking against furniture until they were shooed into the street.
You're a fighter.
So is Jinx. She'd had to become one.
Couldn't be all dancing all the time.
Vi wishes she could say more, but she doesn't know how. She types back: ]
I don't doubt it. [It's not a lie; she spent her whole childhood learning and mimicking Vi's motions. In a way she realizes that she kind of misses it.
She doesn't know the last time she tried to learn Vi's motions to aid her not find a way to combat her.] You know I think we deserve some fun.
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no subject
on 2025-10-03 04:53 am (UTC)want to go dancing?
is this a joke?
you meant to go?
you really want to go together? to have fun[ She deletes so many messages. Types and deletes, feeling lost. The hope of it is what catches Vi off guard. It's what scares her.
They've fallen into a familiar, if somewhat strained pattern. The truth (the truth they both know and won't acknowledge) is that neither of them really knows how to be the other's sister anymore. How to coexist, in that symbiotic way that used to feel so natural, easy as breathing and nearly as important. Most days, they barely see each other.
Vi examines the chipped purple nail polish Jinx had put on her a week or two ago. ]
sure. could be fun.
no subject
on 2025-10-03 05:23 am (UTC)It isn't like the radio usually has much good to listen to, and if she is blasting any music it's usually when she's in her makeshift workshop.] Less the people and the drinking, but hey, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.
no subject
on 2025-10-03 05:37 am (UTC)So many hole in the wall dives with loud music and shit drinks. I bet we can find a place
no subject
on 2025-10-07 03:30 am (UTC)Actually, you're a fighter, you can probably dance, huh?
no subject
on 2025-10-07 05:48 am (UTC)Blasting music from the jukebox in the Last Drop when no one was around during the day. Making stages out of tables. Making forts and ramparts out of chairs, fighting to the imaginary death with imaginary armies against Claggor and Mylo and Ekko. Haphazardly nailed-together wooden swords and sticks clacking against furniture until they were shooed into the street.
You're a fighter.
So is Jinx. She'd had to become one.
Couldn't be all dancing all the time.
Vi wishes she could say more, but she doesn't know how. She types back: ]
sure can
I'll teach you a move or two
no subject
on 2025-10-10 12:47 am (UTC)She doesn't know the last time she tried to learn Vi's motions to aid her not find a way to combat her.] You know I think we deserve some fun.
no subject
on 2025-10-12 07:13 am (UTC)I think so too.
[ Every time she's been hopeful, it turned out to be a mistake.
And still, somehow, that hope keeps creeping back in. Just won't die. Like a fucking cockroach, that hope.
The little voice that says: maybe this time it'll be different. ]