A few guys at The Rabbit Hole that morning had convinced Lacey of one thing: Boston was where it was at when it came to clubs. The suggestion had come from three of the regulars; three that (though she didn’t know it) had already crossed the borders of Storybrooke, leaving only their cursed identities intact. Amnesiac bar-flies, just like herself.
The four of them had tried to make the event a large field trip of a sort, canvassing others to go with them. The others, however, had all been… ‘unenthusiastic’ about crossing the town-line.
Despite the entire bar telling them ‘no’, Lacey and a few like-minded individuals had hit the road.
The sound of clacking heels approaching caused Lydia to hunch protectively. In her mind’s eye she half-expected to be set upon and mugged at that instant, what with her personal belongings scattered in front of her. The loud, Australian accent, however, was something she hadn’t been expecting. Lydia tilted her head, her dark waves spilling from her shoulders. At first she wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or complimented by the reference, but she was gritting her teeth and her eyes had narrowed, so she supposed she took it as an insult. Turning slowly to look up at the scantily clad brunette, Lydia’s expression was guarded.
“… Sure,” She replied cautiously, locating her lighter on the pavement. As soon as she’d gathered her things, she stood up to her feet and handed it over, eyeing the woman wearily.
She had a nice, delicate face but dark, detached eyes, and she’d clearly drunk herself into a giddy daze. Throwing a look over to the bunch of men the brunette had no doubt wandered away from, Lydia cleared her throat awkwardly. “Ah, are you… going to be okay with all those men?” She asked, eyebrows low. It wasn’t usually her place to pry - she usually went out of her way to keep her mouth shut - but she remembered having saved her friend Clare from a path of self-destruction, and this woman looked like she was on one too. “I mean… In the state you’re in?”
Regina took a step toward Lydia, eyes never leaving Lydia’s as she took in her gothic appearance. It was oddly shocking. She thought she liked black, but this woman took it to a whole new level. And, she still had no clue what the hell this woman was doing here. Of course people could cross the border now that the curse was broken, but so far it had only been people associated with her home, the Enchanted Forest. In any case, she continued to force a smile, crossing her arms over her chest as she advanced toward her.Taking in her words, Regina dug through her purse and pulled out her phone. “Yes. Of course, dear. Why don’t I give them a quick call and then I’ll take you into town myself Miss…” she trailed off, waiting for the woman to fill in her name.
The pirate was exhausted, but her words gave him pause. She was offering him a place to stay, a haven. He canted his head and leaned against the wall, sore and worn thin. He regarded her quietly and lofted a brow. ”You would offer me sanctuary?”
He was taken aback. No one had bothered to show him kindness. Cora used him as her creature, Swan left him at the clutches of the giant, and most just wanted him dead. But here was a soul who wanted nothing more than to assist him, showing him kindness with no ulterior motive. There was no magic in the realm, so he didn’t fear her being a minion of the Dark One.
But then, the Dark One was dead. Killed by his own hook. He was sated, ready to find his way back to Storybrooke and the magic so that he might find a way back to his realm. He had no wish to die or be trapped in this confusing land full of fast-moving, angry people. There was too much noise, too much chaos. He disliked it intensely. ”Very well, I’ve no idea how I’m to find my way back to Storybrooke and in truth, I’m in no shape to face off against the travel back to my realm.”
Lydia let out a soft breath, nodding encouragingly despite her face appearing a little troubled. In truth, the expression was nothing to do with him but more so herself- she couldn’t help but wonder why she was being so kind to him. He was just a stranger after all. If she were being honest with herself, however, it was because she loved the thrill of adventure and of unordinary things. She’d always been a sucker for the ‘strange and unusual’, and this was, quite certainly, a strange and unusual situation.
Scratching the back of her neck absently, Lydia gently shrugged her shoulders. “I’m— house-sitting for my parents while they’re out of town. They’ve got, a, uh, penthouse apartment, so… you don’t mind heights, do you?” The last she asked cautiously, flashing him a quick look.
Now that they seemed to have let the matter of the docks drop and now had a more clear goal in mind, Lydia felt as though she were in control of the situation once more. She adjusted the strap on her SLR camera, before cocking a thumb over her shoulder in the general direction of the apartment building. “Either way, I’ve got food, running water… You can eat, wash and rest up, whatever you need. But— we’ll need to get a cab,”
If there was one place that Lydia loved to photograph, it was the infamous city of Salem, Massachusetts. Its history, and its supposed paranormal roots appealed to her on such a scale that it never took a lot of persuasion to get her there. Luckily for her, she’d just been offered a freelance project with the brief - ‘Salem: Ghosts of Witch Hunts Past’. Lydia had jumped in her car with all her luggage and equipment, and had hit the road the following morning.
Her hotel was in Boston, and even though it was a bit of a journey taking the ferry or train to Salem each morning, it made the trip more scenic. More of a vacation.
After a long day of photo-snapping, museum-going and sight-seeing, Lydia had opted to take the ferry home, and had managed to catch the last scheduled boat of the day.
While on board, she decided to pass the time examining the photos she’d taken thus far on her digital camera. Flicking through them, it wasn’t long before she hit the end of her string of Salem photos… and instead stumbled upon something else entirely. At the sight of it, the hairs on the back of Lydia’s neck stood on end, her throat turning dry. Then, glancing up cautiously, she cupped the monitor of the camera in a gesture of fierce protection. There, clearly on the screen, was an image of a heavy mahogany table levitating upside down in the middle of a room, with a transparent child having a tantrum beneath it, her hair on end as though magnetised to the ceiling.
A cold chill rocketed through Lydia, punching her right in the stomach so that she almost doubled up with nausea. Her pupils had retracted at the sight of the near-forgotten photos she’d taken during her time as a freelance paranormal investigator - photos of various parlour tricks in session, ghostly phenomenon, the dearly departed themselves, not to mention lost Handbook for the Recently Deceased pages that had been edited out of the edition she’d once carried. She’d loaded the wrong SD card!
Pursing her lips tightly, enraged with herself, Lydia fumbled to turn off the camera as quick as she could and stuff it back into its bag. Trying not to make a mountain out of a molehill, she sat tight, silent and trance-like for the rest of the journey.
The trip had been almost an hour long and by the time the ferry pulled up to the jetty, darkness had begun to roll in. With it, so had the drunkards. From her seat, Lydia could make out a cluster of bikers on the edge of the dock, some mounted on their motorcycles, some sat on a bench and drinking out of a paper bag, some even chatting to girls in hotpants as short as their heels were high.
She turned a blind eye, subconsciously drumming her fingers on the camera bag in her lap. She was furious with herself for bringing that damned SD card and for so obliviously using it. God, there had been times in the past where she’d submitted her work for publication, handing over the SD card without a second glance! What if she’d done it this time? She didn’t even want to think about what would happen if those photos got into the wrong hands. For one thing, Juno would have her guts for garters.
As soon as the ferry had come to a complete stop, Lydia navigated her way down from the sight-seeing deck to the jetty. Her pace was speedy as she crossed the dock, heading for the road, but when she reached the pack of bikers she began to struggle with the load she was carrying. One hand attempting to juggle the straps of her two SLR cameras, the other trying to keep a firm hold of the satchel that was swinging about her elbow, Lydia was walking like a shopper-turned-pack-mule.
The final straw came when her satchel tipped as if of its own accord and spilled its contents all over the pavement. Lydia very audibly cursed. Had she not even had the sense to zip up her bag? With no choice but to readjust, she dropped her load on the ground and began to salvage her things. As she stooped, her long, black maxi dress pooled around her like a puddle of oil.
She felt exposed and vulnerable, and not just because her personal effects were on display. Knowing she had proof of life-after-death on her person felt almost like carrying stolen goods, and was an unnecessary weight on her shoulders when she was so far away from home. Her hands flew about the pavement as she reclaimed the contents of her bag. The sooner she could get back to her hotel the better…
|Lydia and Joker. ((JUST HUMOR ME OKAY I HAVE SEEN FANVIDEOS LOL))|
OMG XD… RUN LYDS! ))
|what about Lydia and Hook/Killian?|
Lydia: The— pirate? Hm…
Wait… does this mean there’s someone shipping this? o.o
|Beetlejuice and Lydia (ship)|
… *sigh* Great. And I’m supposed to go throw myself into his arms? I’d rather be sick. That filthy pervert ruined my life.
OTP FOREVER AND EVER AMEN.
|I miss your rp with Beetlejuice SO much. Are you not continuing it? :(|
Oh good lord, I miss it so much too.
Yes, we are (I hope! T_T) but things are just hectic at the moment irl with cosplays and events and all the things. I don’t have as much time to write and RP like I used to and I’m sure it’s the same for Betel-mun.
But… hopefully Lydia and Beej will be duking it out again in the near future.
No, not that kind of ‘duking it out’. Thank you. It’s nice to know it’s been missed. T_T ))
(( I owe replies to:
If I’ve missed any starters or replies, let me know~! ))