neverstudied | DEERINGTON

[He can be endlessly glad she was in storage for the entirety of the 80s and never experienced a Ghostbuster Toy. ]

I never saw them. The hippies. It was about '64 when I went into storage and I was stuck under a bed up until then, so I missed almost the whole thing.

[Aside from hearing the music Emily played on her record player, anyway. But she doesn't think that counts. ]

Yeesh. You're right. That's a terrible idea. I don't wanna do that. [She'll jerk a thumb to the interior of the house.] Come on in. It's on the coffee table.

Edited 2020-03-10 21:49 (UTC)

[You know, for all they've talked and all Venkman has spilled about himself, he's only heard faint snippets about Jessie's life. He knows about some of her friends, both the ones here and at home. But he doesn't know about Emily. Her time isolated in darkness. Any of it.

He almost asks, and Jessie can see him start to open his mouth to say something, feel the curiosity bubble up through the string- but he hesitates. Leaves the subject for now. Venkman can take a guess and assume that a living toy getting put into storage indefinitely is... probably a difficult subject, and probably not one Jessie wants to field right now. So instead, like most things, he deflects.]

Unless toys can get high, you didn't miss much. At least not from the hippies.

[A gross oversimplification, of course, but who cares.

Venkman follows her gesture, though he doesn't focus on the coffee table at first- his attention is entirely commanded by the rest of the house.]

I almost forgot houses in this dimension can look nice. Everything we owned was covered in dust and slime when we got back, and the place didn't exactly look great before.

[Jessie is consistently guarded about her past. She never likes talking about it- and Deerington has a nasty habit of treading on all her old fears and opening up those bearly-healed wounds. She senses the curiosity through the thread, and almost feels guilty for not talking about it. Almost.]

We can't, no body functions for any of that.

[Living that plastic life. The house is pretty nice- despite her joking, Peter is a good boy and doesn't mess the place up all that much.]

Well, I came to it like this. Woody had been living here alone for a good long time before I showed up. He's... pretty anal so this is mostly him.

[She says that with a lot of affection, despite the anger-fueled barb driving it. She loves her idiot brother a lot.]

Edited (EXCUSE you DW I wasn't done) 2020-03-13 22:31 (UTC)

[Venkman hasn't been here long enough to have even the beginnings of his insecurities and fears exploited, really. Yeah, he's freaked out by things like the red strings, his relationships being public knowledge, but that's surface level shit. He's scared of that all the time, so in the grand scheme of things, its one of the easiest to deal with.

One of these days, this dimension's gonna really dig its teeth into forcing him to confront a decade and a half of unpacked guilt and remorse over ol' Mama Venkman, may she rest in peace, and depending on how bad it gets he might go goddamn catatonic.]

It's a shame.

[petition to get jessie some toy weed]

Y'know, I never really considered what it'd look like for a ragdoll to try to use a broom before, but now I am. You guys have your work cut out for ya, 'specially if your kidnapped teen's "allergic to cleanliness".

[Right, the coffee table. Venkman holds his hand out so Jessie can hop from him to the table surface, and he picks up the belt- gingerly, like he's worried he's going to damage it.

He doesn't say anything yet, but it's hard to disguise the affection seeping through the strings, let alone the very genuine smile on his face.]

[At least when that day inevitably comes, Jessie can be there to help in through it. She's a goddamn expert in dealing with Deerington induced past trauma at this point. She deserves a goddamn certificate in it.

Also please get her toy weed, it would make her life so much less awful.]

Luckily, he ain't too bad. And you'd be surprised what we can do. When the whole world's designed for people, you gotta get creative in just about everything.

[She smiles as he picks up the belt, those feelings coming through loud and clear. They sure help ease her frayed temper plenty.]

Do you like it?

[genuinely debating submitting a request for usable toy weed as a bonus reward. please stop me

Venkman sits down on the nearest couch or chair, still holding the belt up. He has not taken his eyes off the buckle yet, nor has the grin on his face faded for even a second.]

I love it.

[He says it softly- and his voice is usually soft, it's the Garfield effect, but this is barely above a whisper, and he just looks so stupidly happy... probably the happiest Jessie's seen him, uh, ever? In one fell swoop, she's appealed to both Venkman's barely concealed adoration of cowboy aesthetics and his desperate, better-hidden need for proof that the people he cares about actually care about him back, and that he's not just lying to himself every day of his life.

Yeah, it's a little ridiculous for him to get so emotional over a belt buckle, but so is the entire situation of a ragdoll cowgirl gifting him a belt buckle. Who cares if it's ridiculous. It's happening anyway.]

Thank you. Um- [A slight tinge of embarrassment, as Venkman realizes that she can definitely feel the absurd amount of gratitude leaking through the string.] I really- really do appreciate it.

[Give him a minute to remember how words work, Jessie. Even though he obviously knew the belt buckle was here, actually getting it is still a shock to his system. Like some part of him was expecting it to be a lie.]

You're welcome. I figured you could use a little pick me up. Also, I don't break promises.

[Venkman is the best bro there ever could be. Jessie smiles, the happy feeling he's feeding through to her really is making a difference. She almost feels normal. Or as close to normal as she can get to, these days. She'll take it, honestly.

She hops off his hand, landing on the coffee table with the practised ease of someone used to dropping from great heights all the dang time. She grins, nudging it a little closer.]

Go ahead and pick it up. It ain't gonna bite you.

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