Lydia had been attempting to find the edge of town.  The toxic green backpack on her shoulders and a rusty pipe in hand as she walked through the demon’s territory.  Keeping her head down and her face out of the sun with her large brimmed hat she was just focused on walking, her black converse high tops clicking against the street as she tried to focus on finding the key to this fucking game.

When she heard his voice her body froze.  She felt tears spring to her eyes, but she wasn’t even sure what emotion they were attached to.  Wrapping her arms around him, she buried her head in his chest.  It was good to see him, amazing to see him, shit to know he was on the other team.  Closing her eyes, she kept her arms tight around his frame, “It’s really good to see you too, Beetle.” She whispered, pressing her face into his neck, not trusting herself to speak more than that.

          He cradles her head in one grimey hand, digits slipping upward like greedy snakes getting cozy in their nest. A deep inhale draws her scent upwards, wafting through nostrils that haven’t smelt anything so sweet in the better part of two weeks. Beetle holds her there, for a moment or two until finally he finds the draw within himself to pull away slightly, still gripping the girl by both shoulders. “Oh baby - what are ya doin’ here?! Don’t tell me they lured y’in with that bullshit letter!” Lydia was smart; far more clever than the beetle man — there was no way she would have been gullible enough to take a random trip offered to her by some anonymous sweepstakes.

@mosthost

“DAD. It seems you’re creeping everyone out. I LOVE IT. They just don’t know how to have any fun. Speaking of. What kind of fun have you dredged up? Please share because I’m DYING over here.”

   Beetle grins and gives a humble shrug before lacing one grimey arm over his adoptive daughters shoulders. “Aw — pumpkin, I think I’m makin’ my mark don’t you worry about that.” He grins, enunciating the final syllable as he walks with her.  “Not too much unfortunately, this place is deader n’ a graveyard; I woulda thought here’d be tons more action by know, know what I mean?” He sighs, dark hues gazing around the abandoned streets. “Hey — what say you n’dear ole dad find somewhere to wet our whistles.”

     He’s been making himself at home, of course — because Beetlejuice has an innate ability to make himself feel comfortable anywhere. For the moment he enjoy’s a cigarette on the dilapidated front stoop of a rundown house, his fractured mind already running down ideas for the day; ways in which to entertain himself. Maybe he’ll find Chuck — or Sam, see if they are up to anything interesting.

      But it’s as the nightmare clown considers these options that his dark hues spot someone familiar; someone near and dear to his heart — if there even is such a thing. “LYDIA!” He calls, lurching to his feet while at the same time flicking the cigarette to the ground with wild abandon. “Lydia - babe it’s so good to see you.” He grins, wrapping both arms greedily around her frame, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“special chick -- she understands me -- not a lotta people do. i’ve taken quite a shine to’er -- so everyone else better keep their grimy mitts OFF.”

“ HELL YES -- what kinda moron would I be to say no?”

“how ‘bout both? feel like my goth girl is into some blood play.”

“sam’s a big girl, she can handle herself. but if he so much as makes her WIMPER in any way that isn’t consentual; I will  f u c k i n g END the bastard -- count on it.”

“ho-ho-holy shit whatta question; whadda we got for em, Johnny?! Ah -- but seriously there are too many options to choose from, I mean -- the chicks here are hot but that doesn’t mean I’m above given em a DIFFERENT kinda poke, if ya get my drift. bet I’d take down one a’ the bro’s though -- less competition.” 

The eccentric personality the man had didn’t quite balance out too well with his creepy vibe. Marceline tilted her head and shook it slightly in disbelief. “Just barbed wire, huh? I guess you could wrap it around something and start swinging.” She suggested, now much more pleased with her weapon that she was given. “No offense, but if this place makes you feel like you’re at home than I feel pretty bad. It is only run down.” At least his want for girls was something she could agree on.

           It’s not often someone gets the jump on him, usually it ends in catastrophe for the other — but in this case Beetle is willing to let the shock slide, bar a subtle jump and clutch of his heart, because this woman is smokin’; and he’d love to get to know her better. “Warn a guy before ya materialize outta the shadows, would ya?” He says quickly before shaking off the increase in heart rate. “No offence taken, I’m watcha’ call a loner, a street thug, a bad ass if I may.” Beetle announces, gravitas pouring off him like thick molasses. “Looks t’me like you’re gonna need someone to keep y’safe from all the spooky things that go bump in the night; I could help you out there.” He adds, sidling up to her, invading as much of her personal space as she’ll let him — and then some.

A shudder ran down Rachel’s spine as she looked at him and the fact that he was getting CLOSER to her. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.” Always curious, Raven was. But then he got closer and CLOSER and everything inside of the girl told her to BACK AWAY slowly, but she wouldn’t show her fear or her disdain. “Might surprise you just how long I can last.” A defiant smile curved stained lips as she watched him carefully. “Safe? YOU can keep me SAFE? You look more the type to need saving FROM.”

         “Trust me, sweet cheeks — y’don’t.” Beetle grins and shrugs slightly as she speaks her piece about him being the one to need protection from, it’s not enough to have distracted him from he way her lip curls and her hair falls so sweetly around her face. Tantalizing. “Ex—scuze you. I’m a perfect gentleman … unless that’s not what you’re into.” He snickers, lips curling back to reveal neglected teeth. “What say you n’I take a look around here huh? I’m itchin’ to get my hands on some — things.” The Beetle adds, raking both hands together.

Florida was a lot gloomier than Orel thought it was going to be, and this backpack with nothing but a water bottle, a lighter and a pack of chewable band-aids wasn’t helping things… but it could be worse!  He could NOT have a map of the town– and don’t even get him started on the paper fan!  The nice scary looking guy in the limousine that dropped Orel off without so much as a, “Congratulations,” REALLY had his best interests in mind!

“I must be the luckiest boy in the WORLD!” he announced to absolutely nobody— which wasn’t creepy at all!  “Okay dokey, time to make myself at home!”  Look at that: he made a new best friend already!  The map!  With that happy thought in mind the overly happy twenty year old started walking!

          After a bit of exploring Beetlejuice has plopped himself down where he’s most comfortable; the street curb and is lighting up a cigarette when he notices another black limousine pull up. Without warning a scrawny boy; no more than twenty — is thrust out onto the asphalt before the limo tears ass and skirts out of view.

       The junkie, curious as always, finds his gaze drawn to the boy and his seemingly unbridled attitude. Jesus - what kind of drugs was this kid on and where could he get some? Without shifting an inch Beetle makes a large gesture, an over zealous wave and flails an arm to usher the boy over yonder. “Hey kid — what side of Barney did you spew out of.” He chuckles to himself, indulging in a long haul from his lit cigarette.

There was a sudden lump in Raven’s throat as she looked at the other. She had really just saw people she knew and people who were really just as confused as she was. And then there was THIS and she really didn’t know how to handle it, though she would do it with dignity and class as she always did. “Right at home? Where would you be at home in a place like this?”

       The hell jester’s gaze slips from the weapon to the woman, that sly smirk still parked in plain view as he gives her a not so subtle once over. “Well wouldn’ you like t’know.” He grins, waggling both brows while simultaneously stuffing the barbed wire back into the canvas bag, small slices forming against ghostly pale flesh. It doesn’t phase him of course, Beetlejuice has been through more than enough — these are merely paper cuts, insignificant wounds that will scab over in an hour; no point in getting worked up about it.