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31_days2008-03-07 06:09 pm
bane-6.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2008-03-07 06:09 pm
[Mar 7] [Beetlejuice] No Romance in Death
Title: No Romance in Death
Day/Theme: 7. Blessed is the blind, pity is the fool.
Series:Beetlejuice
Character/Pairing: BJ/Lyds
Rating: PG
It was freezing in the crypt and since BJ didn’t feel the cold, it wasn’t too hard too wheedle his coat off him. Lydia took some pictures, wondering if the spirits Beetlejuice was chatting with would appear on the film. Probably not. She saw him squint as one faded and figured if he could barely see them, no one could.
Once the film was used up, she wandered around, looking at the bones. Her knuckles were aching from the cold, so she stuck them in the coat’s pockets before she remembered why that was a bad idea. She froze, lips arching back from her teeth in disgust.
It felt crunchy, as if the insides of the pockets were coated with dried mucus and greasy potato chip crumbs. Something moved, dodging her fingers with prickly legs. Something else that felt like a roll of soggy bills squelched. Something else was pricklingly fuzzy like a giant caterpillar. Something cold and damp was starting to stick to her wrist. If she had been a cat, every hair on her body would’ve been bristling.
Moving very carefully so as to touch any more than she had to, she pulled her hands free. The thing was still sticking to her. It appeared to be a human eye.
“What is thissss?” she squealed, startling the transparent shades away.
“Got that during a plague,” Beetlejuice said. “Some guy died of it, but stayed to watch over his family. When his wife started to fester and rot away, he put out his own eyes so he wouldn’t have to see it.”
“That’s…” Her voice faltered as he plucked it off her hand and strands of goo stretched between it and her skin. “That’s awful! But why do you have it?”
“I had the full set there for awhile,” he shrugged, wrapping it in something he dug out of his pants pocket. “Lost an eye in a poker game with that Bo Noppera guy in the bathrobe. Didn’t feel like parting with my own.”
“That’s awful!” she said again, louder and more shrill this time. “You used a symbol of tragedy and lost love to pay off a poker debt??”
“All that beating sure keeps your heart tender,” he actually chuckled. “Don’t be stupid. You’re wasting pity on a man who was already dead. It didn’t hurt to pull his eyes out by then. And it didn’t keep him from seeing either. He still had to watch his family die and they met up with him again afterwards.
“And,” he added as she opened her mouth to argue again. “Think of Noppera. He doesn’t even have eyes of his own unless he can win them somehow. Think what a joy it was to be able to see after centuries of feeling his way around the tables. Win/win. For everybody.”
“Like you care about any of them,” she hissed, folding her arms tight across her chest and turning her back on him. She looked adorable in the striped coat. It was much too big for her.
“I admit to being selective in what I care about,” he agreed. He tweaked her topknot and she made an annoyed sound. “Suck in that bottom lip, kid.”
He was suddenly in the coat with her, pressed against her back with his cold arms alongside hers in the sleeves. She yelped and he cackled. They disappeared in a cloud of red dust and ended up back in Lydia’s room. She was dropped unceremoniously on her bed and he floated over her.
“You’ve got to get it through your pretty head,” he said, zooming close enough that their noses touched. “Death ain’t romantic.” But even as he said it, he winked, and she blushed.
Day/Theme: 7. Blessed is the blind, pity is the fool.
Series:Beetlejuice
Character/Pairing: BJ/Lyds
Rating: PG
It was freezing in the crypt and since BJ didn’t feel the cold, it wasn’t too hard too wheedle his coat off him. Lydia took some pictures, wondering if the spirits Beetlejuice was chatting with would appear on the film. Probably not. She saw him squint as one faded and figured if he could barely see them, no one could.
Once the film was used up, she wandered around, looking at the bones. Her knuckles were aching from the cold, so she stuck them in the coat’s pockets before she remembered why that was a bad idea. She froze, lips arching back from her teeth in disgust.
It felt crunchy, as if the insides of the pockets were coated with dried mucus and greasy potato chip crumbs. Something moved, dodging her fingers with prickly legs. Something else that felt like a roll of soggy bills squelched. Something else was pricklingly fuzzy like a giant caterpillar. Something cold and damp was starting to stick to her wrist. If she had been a cat, every hair on her body would’ve been bristling.
Moving very carefully so as to touch any more than she had to, she pulled her hands free. The thing was still sticking to her. It appeared to be a human eye.
“What is thissss?” she squealed, startling the transparent shades away.
“Got that during a plague,” Beetlejuice said. “Some guy died of it, but stayed to watch over his family. When his wife started to fester and rot away, he put out his own eyes so he wouldn’t have to see it.”
“That’s…” Her voice faltered as he plucked it off her hand and strands of goo stretched between it and her skin. “That’s awful! But why do you have it?”
“I had the full set there for awhile,” he shrugged, wrapping it in something he dug out of his pants pocket. “Lost an eye in a poker game with that Bo Noppera guy in the bathrobe. Didn’t feel like parting with my own.”
“That’s awful!” she said again, louder and more shrill this time. “You used a symbol of tragedy and lost love to pay off a poker debt??”
“All that beating sure keeps your heart tender,” he actually chuckled. “Don’t be stupid. You’re wasting pity on a man who was already dead. It didn’t hurt to pull his eyes out by then. And it didn’t keep him from seeing either. He still had to watch his family die and they met up with him again afterwards.
“And,” he added as she opened her mouth to argue again. “Think of Noppera. He doesn’t even have eyes of his own unless he can win them somehow. Think what a joy it was to be able to see after centuries of feeling his way around the tables. Win/win. For everybody.”
“Like you care about any of them,” she hissed, folding her arms tight across her chest and turning her back on him. She looked adorable in the striped coat. It was much too big for her.
“I admit to being selective in what I care about,” he agreed. He tweaked her topknot and she made an annoyed sound. “Suck in that bottom lip, kid.”
He was suddenly in the coat with her, pressed against her back with his cold arms alongside hers in the sleeves. She yelped and he cackled. They disappeared in a cloud of red dust and ended up back in Lydia’s room. She was dropped unceremoniously on her bed and he floated over her.
“You’ve got to get it through your pretty head,” he said, zooming close enough that their noses touched. “Death ain’t romantic.” But even as he said it, he winked, and she blushed.