why bother?

peter: bc if its cold and i dont wear a jacket

peter: ill get sick

peter: and you'll have to deal with that

peter: but if i wear a jacket

peter: i wont get sick

isa: nope

jamie: 300?

jamie: as in 3 100 dollar bills?

jamie: you're hilarious

isa: good

jamie: you would? that'd be pretty cool tbh

jamie: how much you gonna charge?

isa: fine

isa: i'm changing your name to mystery cryer in my phone

peter: oh god reoccurring crisis

isa: nope

Clutching the neck of the guitar tight in embarrassment, Lillian puffed out a breath, allowing herself to calm down. Why should she have expected anything less than breaking and entering from Isa?

Lilly shrugged, smiling playfully. “I mean, hey, I’m not doing anything else. Plus I think speaking to the dead is so much more interesting than trying to scare them out of my spazaming, oozing possessed body.” Throwing the guitar strap over her shoulder, Lillian pursed her lips, thinking. “Freddy to Casper? Now that’s a crossover I can get behind.”

Lilly’s eyes widened. “Shit, yeah, one of the brother’s got me one last year but I never used it, the box is still in the shrink wrap and everything.” She turned quickly, trying to think of where the hell she would’ve put that box, only turning when Isa continued. “Oh, thanks man. I like to add a little personal flair.”  

“I think both could be fun.” Isa replies thoughtfully at Lillian’s words before she’s continuing with, “But I can see where you’re coming from. Maybe we could actually befriend the spirit. Or bind it into an eternity of servitude. There are a lot more possibilities here.” Isa’s mostly joking if she’s honest. Her Aunt Persy would never forgive her if she enslaved a spirit, even if was a malevolent one. Even Isa herself was a bit on the fence about the whole slavery situation, even if they were talking about a hypothetical demon. “Or maybe we could convince it to willingly follow us... like a familiar arrangement. Anways, I’m glad. Hopefully we can pull it off and make this crossover fantasy a reality.”

Isa perks up at that, her eyes bright at the stroke of luck as she says, “why haven’t you used it yet? Seems like a wasted opportunity. There are so many occasions that can be enhanced by speaking to the dead. Like Labour Day.” Isa nods in response to Lillian’s thanks, humming as she replies, “I understand. I draw on my drums sometimes.”

Had Jesse known Isa better he would have known not to look away when he busied himself with opening his own can of beer, but as it was he only knew her in two ways: as someone he used to work with and someone his once-friend Peter was extremely fond of. Sure, he was aware of her light kleptomaniac tendencies but that hadn’t crossed his mind until she brought it up. “You have a valid point.” He granted her the benefit of the doubt— the minimum amount. “But look at this shit hole,” he motioned to their surroundings. “Only thing of value here are my instruments.” Jesse paused only to take a drink from his beer, swallowing quick when he remembered something he wanted to add, “Which I’m warning you now to stay the fuck away from.”

Lowering the accusatory finger he’d pointed at her, he decided to answer her unresolved question with the help of his phone, which he’d reach for in preparation from his jean’s back pocket. “This is a manic pixie dream girl.” After a quick search of the word, Jesse handed over his phone to her— like the idiot he was— to look through the selection of images the search engine provided. “You’ve got the hair and everything.”

“I can’t steal your instruments.” Isa replies simply at Jesse’s warning, shrugging before explaining, “at least not while you’re here. And probably not quickly. A lot of them are too big for me to carry out without you noticing. And it’d be hard for me to carry more than one at once.” Isa responds thoughtfully as she (mostly) hypothetically plans the heist out, already picturing herself struggling with a guitar case and sighing. Sometimes being so small was tiring. She holds her beer out to Jesse to open for her, meeting his eyes as she says, “besides, used instruments don’t go for that much anyways. I’d probably have better luck selling your underwear.” 

Isa blinks as Jesse just... hands her his phone despite their very recent conversation about her stealing his things, and her eyes flick up to him as she stares at him for a few moments in wonder before she’s asking, “have you ever been mugged?” As she glances down at the phone and begins to look through the photos. She mouses around for a few moments before she taps at the phone thoughtfully, pausing at a definition and reciting, “...’a Manic Pixie Dream Girl is a character who "exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures"’...” Isa pauses for a moment to think, head tilting as she wonders, “... which brooding young man am I teaching? Is it you?”

peter: and we established that the plural form of crisis is

peter: actually we didnt establish shit

isa: we didnt

Jamie knows exactly what Isa is thinking the moment her eyes light up, already shaking his head ‘no’ before she can finish her question. “I live in Spit Point, Isa,” he states bluntly, gesturing vaguely the yellowed walls, decorated heavily to hide the unappealing hue, of his room. “You really think I can shell out bookoo bucks on something you use a teaspoon of each time? You broke into an imitation vanilla household.”

Jamie nods once before motioning for Isa to follow him, leading the pair out of his room and into his living area. “I, uh, should have leftovers in my fridge, feel free to check,” he says, pointing to his kitchen as he starts to pick up his art supplies. Shutting his laptop gently with his foot, he drops his sketchbook unceremoniously on his coffee table. “Fair warning, I also had Torrance and Peter here on different days, so there might be slim pickings. But, we can always order, like, takeout or pizza. Something, I don’t know.”

“Disappointing,” Isa admits as harsh reality cruelly dashes away any hopes of her making a good vegan banana bread any time soon. She’s going to have to swipe some vanilla from a grocery store now. Maybe some nutmeg too while she’s at it. Despite her disappointment at the amount of work she’ll have to put into this, as she follows Jamie into his living area she can’t help but add, “Living in Spit Point doesn’t always mean you’re poor. Look at Peter.”

Isa listens to Jamie thoughtfully even as she drifts towards his kitchen, glancing around at the art supplies left through the room as she does. “Okay. Take out sounds good too.” As she opens the fridge and pokes through for something she could actually eat, she can’t help but almost curiously asks, “did I interrupt you while you were sketching something?” 

The blonde’s lips immediately form a pout upon hearing the self deprecating comment from Isa. “Oh no, no way!” She shakes her head, pausing to rest a hand on the drummer’s shoulder. “You’re so talented, never say that.” Dottie was eager to reassure her bandmate, although she was unsure of how seriously she should’ve taken the comment (she wasn’t the best at getting that kind of humor). 

Isa pauses at the praise in confusion a moment, not quite sure how to respond. She assumes that Dottie can hear well considering they’re having a conversation. And she’s assuming by Dottie’s admiration for Gone Girls that she’s heard them play before. But... maybe that was before Isa joined the band? Or maybe she just... tuned Isa out somehow? Isa can’t help but slowly ask, “have you... heard me play the drums?” 

College.

That’s why he he had no fucking clue what she was talking about. College was something Jesse had written off long ago and knew nothing about. He would have been done by now had he decided to go, but it was something he had no interest in. “You’re nuts.” He shook his head before continuing to dry his hair with the towel. “You scare the guy off? Or were you too manic pixie dream girl for him?” Jesse’s question resonated in the living room as he walked and talked, heading straight into the tiniest of kitchen areas where he grabbed a couple of beers for them. For the life of him, he could not remember if Isa was of age— then he remembered he didn’t actually give a fuck and handed over the beer to the intruder.

“You gonna tell me why or who you were running away from now or you wanna keep the small talk going?” He smirked to himself before opening a drawer next to him, pulling out a bottle opener. “Decisions, decisions.” 

“I’ve gotten that before.” Isa replies with a unbothered nod at Jesse’s words, blinking a second at Jesse’s question before admitting. “I don’t think so. I gave him a blowjob and now he stop calling me. So I may have scared him but not enough.” Isa follows Jesse into his kitchen as she asks, “...what’s a manic pixie dream girl?” Isa blinks as she’s offered a beer, pausing a moment before accepting it. She hasn’t drank much beer since high school, mostly because now that she was a bit older she could afford to drink more than just what was offered to her for free. But Isa still loved free things nonetheless. So she wasn’t going to say now.

Isa thinks over that question, humming lightly as she curiously opens one of Jesse’s cupboards and peeks inside. “I like the small talk. So far it’s been surprisingly okay.” Isa pokes around the cupboard for a moment before she’s picking up a can opener and studying it thoughtfully as she says, “why do you think I was running? I could be always here to rob you.” Isa smoothly pockets the can opener after she finishes studying it, the pocket of her oversized jacket easily accommodating the tool. 

dottie: i guess so

isa: good

clark: does he really?

clark: adam is a cold blooded jabroni. i like that in a man

clark: guess that means im cold blooded now too... you better watch your motherfuckin back

isa: i think so

isa: or he at least kills his girlfriend

isa: i know. it's hard to find a man who's sexy, poetic, and a merciless killer these days

isa: this isn't going to work if i'm not even slightly scared of you

torrance: just not on my ass

torrance: or my forehead

torrance: we do too many performances in the dark

torrance: and we're wet brain not flaccid glow in the dark dick so it'd be off brand :/

isa: so every other body part is on the table

isa: back dick tats, foot dick tats, neck dick tats

isa: would an erect glow in the dark dick be better

peter: you told me to get dressed

peter: and i asked about a jacket

peter: should i wear one is it cold out

isa: after the birthday bit