[Makes you sound like a sex pest, papi. All done. The paramedic rolls the last bandaid on over the final two sutures as Tommy turns back over his shoulder, mouth open. The woman winks before peeling away gloves. Get outta here, both of you, we all want to be wrapping up. Munson, seriously. Take it easy. Headache that won't go away and you call one of us.
Tommy stands as she's talking and looks at the wet, bloody twist of his shirt for just a moment before the other paramedic is handing him something dry. Lost and Found, he says as he gets back to clearing down. 'Eddie and the Dead Girls' is the headliner of the acts listed on the back of the festival merch but hell if he and Joel ain't there too, down toward the bottom. Tommy glances at it before climbing carefully into the cotton. Handshakes are exchanged.]
Thanks, Doc. C'mon, Trouble.[Tommy pulls the tarp back for Eddie to pass through ahead of him.
Outside even the mist has moved on and while one couldn't call it a beautiful - too many clouds still to catch stars - it's not bad. The rain's pushed the humidity on through, leaving something like a warm, clean night behind. In his pocket, Tommy's phone buzzes. JOEL: Nobody committed murder, not yet anyway. I'm sat at the hotel bar for now. Back later. He tucks it away.] Suppose this is where... well. You should probably get some sleep.
[ Eddie likes these paramedics. She can't help crowing with laughter as they tease Tommy, her eyes crinkling shut and her mouth wide, and even them turning to admonish her doesn't dim her mirth much. ]
Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.
[ She'd have to, spending all her time with Stevie. If there's one thing you learn, being friends with Stevie Harrington, it's how to handle concussion symptoms. And also haircare. So two things.
Eddie yanks Chrissy's scrunchie out of her hair and reties the whole wet mess into another knot, hopelessly tangling her curls in a way that will probably get her yelled at later but at least keeps them from dripping down her neck in a way she hates. It also keeps her busy so she's not too obviously checking Tommy out while he gets redressed into something dry. She can't help smirk at the sight of her band name stretched out across his shoulders, though. The shirt's a little small on him and she is not complaining.
He holds the tent flap open for her and she ducks through it, stretching her back out once she's standing in the cooler night air, taking a deep breath and then letting it out slowly. Indiana is a shithole, but sometimes the weather is pretty good, and she's always loved the smell of the air after it rains.
Tommy's face is lit up with the blue glow of his phone, and she half wants to ask what the message was, but it's none of her business. ]
Yeah, maybe. Think I'm still a little too wired for sleep, though. [ She pulls at the hem of her shirt, grimacing a little as it sticks to her skin — maybe she should have asked the medics for a shirt, too — as they start to walk back. ] Think I'm gonna go back to my room and light up, since I'm not allowed alcohol tonight. [ The paramedic hadn't said that, but Eddie knows what she can and can't do while monitoring a concussion. ] You're, uh. You're welcome to come with, if you like. If you got nowhere to be.
[Tommy stares at her for a moment too long before laughing, making a production of shoving his hands in his pockets so that he can get himself to stop looking.] So alcohol's off the table but you can smoke? [He arches an eyebrow, but... he isn't going to try and control her, she's a grown damn woman and wouldn't it be safer if he was there too?
[ Tommy shoving his hands in his pockets like that just draws attention to his arms and shoulders, and he may be trying not to look, but Eddie doesn't stop herself. ]
Stevie's doctors say that THC helps with managing concussion symptoms. [ She sounds like she's quoting someone, her voice taking on a slightly different timbre, a little higher and more nasally.
She drops the act when he agrees, though, beaming at him as they begin their slog back through the mud to get to their transport away from the festival grounds. ]
Learn somethin' new everyday, I guess. [As for the rest - his mouth twists and he shakes his head, curls tapping his jaw, but Tommy doesn't say anything for that damn word and takes some time as they cross the field to redo his own hair.
A show this size takes time to break down; staff will be working well into the night and the hotel is buzzing, all of them like-minded, still too wired to want to sleep. They know they can nap on the road tomorrow. They don't go anywhere near the bar but Tommy starts to question his decision to follow Eddie, bonly they're at her door before he can change his mind.]
[ For a moment she considers swinging by the green rooms behind the stage, but she's not totally sure why. To see if Tommy wants to get another shirt? What if he doesn't keep spare clothes in his green room? Eddie always does, but that's because Eddie's kind of a klutz and she's practically frenetic on stage, always working up a sweat no matter the weather, and having something to change into when she's done for the day is always a plus.
Whatever. They're about the same height. If worst comes to worst she can give him something of hers to wear.
The hotel is small, small enough that nearly the entire clientele is part of the tour, but they don't run into anyone who'd stop them for long enough than a quick "hey, how are you, great show." For a moment, Eddie thinks Tommy might be looking for someone, but he doesn't dawdle and he doesn't try to peel away from her once they get inside, so she doesn't question it, just forges ahead until they can make their way through the halls to where her room is.
She hasn't even fished her room key out of her pocket before the door next to hers is swung wide open and Stevie Harrington is suddenly standing in the hall.
Eddie jumps. ] Jesus fucking Christ!
[ Stevie just stares at her. ] What did the paramedics say?
[ Still clutching her chest, halfway leaning into Tommy like she had when they were walking to the medics tent, Eddie shakes her head. Recounting her prognosis takes half a second, and when Stevie's eyes shift from Eddie to the man beside her, she dutifully tells her what Tommy's diagnosis was, too. HIPAA who? It seems to soften her a little, her stance shifting so she looks less like she's about to brace herself for an attack and more like she's going to cock her hip and toss her hair. ]
Hm. Alright, then. [ She holds up one finger, disappears into her room for a moment, and then comes back to toss something at Eddie that she barely manages not to fumble. ] Be safe. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.
[ And then her door slams shut behind her and they're left alone again. Eddie looks down at the projectile she caught and can't help the way her ears turn red. Condoms. She threw a pack of condoms at Eddie's head, all while the hot guy she's been hitting on all night is standing right next to her. ]
She seems... helpful. [He's not sure what else to say about Eddie's drummer, good hell. Is the third member of their crew just as insane as the other two? Tommy stares at the door that was slammed closed behind Stevie for a moment before dropping his eyes at what Eddie's holding and
He really hopes that his messy hair hides the way the tips of his own ears go a little red.] Hey I don't - listen, this isn't something I would normally... I mean. [Tommy rubs a hand over his face and considers the merits of backing away slowly until he's out of sight. He knows they're both consenting adults but getting condoms chucked at you like a teenager will have you reconsidering and the fact that he's been crushing on her since that first show two months ago that he stumbled across doesn't help none.] I didn't tag along expecting anything is all I'm trying to say.
[ She's still contemplating murdering her, though, if only because Stevie might be able to bring a guy home — back to her hotel room, whatever — and be cool about it, but Eddie doesn't exactly have her same womanly wizard powers, so having Stevie show up to cockblock her really isn't helping.
Oh well. No way out but through, and all that. Eddie just prays her face isn't too terribly red. She's supposed to be a cool and worldly rockstar and shit, and the combination of Stevie giving her condoms and a guy she'd definitely let pin her down to the ground in a way more fun way than they've managed before is making her feel like she's back in high school. Not that she ever ran into a situation like this in high school. ] Relax. [ She shoves the condoms into his chest so that she can get her key out of her wet jeans. ] We can just smoke up.
[ She shoves her door open and leads the way in, knowing there's no chance she can do a frantic tidy-up and desperately wishing she could, anyway. She makes an immediate beeline to her suitcase so she can rummage through it and pull out a pair of sweats. ] You want?
Inside the room, Tommy tosses the box onto the nearest flat surface and looks around. Eddie's room looks more like Joel's, where various objects are being used as clothes hangers and last night's take out is still on the table. His own room, in contrast, looks like it's ready for the next guests - complete with hospital corners on the bed.
He turns at her offer.] I ain't gonna fit in your pants. [But he has noticed that his own are... damp. Wet. He'd maybe say soaked but they're not dripping, just clinging to his thighs and calves and are much less comfortable than they were while he was actively working and not, well, doing whatever this is.]
[ Her room is... okay, it's not great, but it's fine. You can see the floor, and both beds are serviceably tidy. He's right about the clothes, though. Eddie unpacks by apparently dropping a bomb in her suitcase, which leaves articles of clothing draped over nearly every surface. It makes it easier for her to find things!
She makes a point to look him over when he turns down her offer, her eyes lingering on his damp jeans, but she just tilts her head in an accepting kind of nod before returning to her luggage to grab herself a shirt. ]
Well, I'm gonna change. You know how to pack this or do you want some pre-rolls?
[ This being the pipe she pulled out from a pocket somewhere, along with a little baggy. ]
[At that, Tommy laughs. He reaches out to take the offered pipe and bud.] Yeah, I know how to pack this. [And does, while Eddie changes in the bathroom. He's not gonna smoke without her - her stash her start, and he likes to think he's enough of a gentleman - but he gets everything ready.
When your dad's a hard-ass cop, there's something in a kid that wants to rail against it. Tommy did for a long time. Funny, considering that he ended up in the Army - or maybe not, guess it depends on how you look at it. Either way, he's never lost the skills that he picked up trying to dissociate as a teenager.] How long y'all been playing together? [he asks through the door as he sits at the desk in Eddie's room, pulling his pocketknife from his pocket. Flipping it open he cleans the bowl of the pipe with a few shallow strokes of the blade.]
[ She decides against the sweats and leaves them draped over the luggage rack, choosing instead a pair of shorts that might have been Stevie's at one point and a well-loved Iron Maiden tee with holes in the seams that she refuses to get rid of no matter how much cajoling she gets about it.
Retreating to the bathroom, she leaves the door cracked a little so she can still hear him as she whips off her wet clothes and leaves them in a heap on the floor while she changes. ]
We all went to high school together, [ she calls through the crack, ripping her bra off with a relieved sigh and adding it to the pile. She uses a wash cloth to clean her face as she continues, wiping away the old sweat and smeared makeup and splatters of dirt that have made a home on her skin. ] But the Dead Girls didn't start until well after graduation. I was playing with a different band in school, buncha guys, but that all fell apart and we went our separate ways, you know how it is.
[ Jeff went to college, Gareth got a job working for the Post Office, and Freik enlisted. She's only sort of kept in touch with them all, not because she doesn't care, but because they all got busy with their own lives. ]
[He does. He and Joel learned guitar together, more or less, but then in high school Joel played house with Jessie while Tommy played music with anyone he could find. Lots of guys in garages, taking breaks for football practice, trying to impress girls on and off the field. Who knows where those guys are now? Not Tommy.] That's kinda cool, though. Weird how things turn out.
[He separates the buds and packs the pipe with a methodical sort of focus, realizing while doing it that his nerves are settled, have been settled for a while. Huh.]
[ Eventually, Eddie emerges from the bathroom with her hair wrapped up in a towel, her face pink and clean, dwarfed in her t-shirt with her legs almost completely bare. She's still wearing all her jewelry, and there's the tattoos, of course, but she looks far more approachable than she does when she's up on stage, much closer to her actual age and the fact that she's really just a small-town Midwesterner who managed to get lucky.
She clambers up onto the end of one of the beds, crossing her legs, so she can watch Tommy pack the pipe. ]
Yeah. Not how I expected they'd go, but. Here we are. [ When the three of them were all lying in their hospital beds, convalescing as best they could, clinging to each other to make it through the nightmares, she knows they weren't dreaming of a life like this. ] I'll introduce you to Chrissy, later. She's sweet as pie, you'll like her.
And he covers it up like shit, too, jerking his attention back to what he was doing and nearly spilling the whole thing. She liked his ink? Her goddamn legs. And honestly he'd have never in life would have said that he'd find a woman covered in tattoos attractive but here they are; here she is, looking both fresh and wild, and here he is, struck mute by it. Tommy finishes packing the weed and finally, feeling a little more composed, turns to offer it to Eddie across the gap between desk chair and bed. He sits back.] Really? I can't image anyone sweet lasting five minutes stuck between you and Stevie.
For a moment, just a half a second or so, the part of her that's convinced anyone who comes up to talk to her at a party is just angling for an introduction to Stevie rears its head and she wants to falter, but then she clocks how he fumbles the pipe in his hands, the intense focus on his face that even she can tell is forced, and she settles into pleased territory instead. ]
Oh, she's got us both wrapped around her little finger. [ Eddie accepts the pipe and then has to twist around and lean back to reach for her lighter, her legs unfolding to counterbalance for a moment before she's back upright again. She flicks it on and sets it to the bowl. ] She'll get you too, just you wait.
[ She takes a pull, flicking the lighter on again to make sure the embers take, and holds the smoke in her lungs for a long moment as she leans across the divide between them to pass the pipe back. ]
Uh-huh. [Tommy doesn't ogle Eddie's legs when they're stretched out as she reaches for a lighter, but it's a near thing. He sparks the lighter and takes a deep pull, muscles not recently used but more than remembering a half-lifetime of habit. His eyelids fall as he exhales long and clean around his brother's name:] Joel. [The pipe is passed back.] Joel Corbin Balmaceda Miller.
[Tommy grins and sinks into the back of his chair; he can feel the weed already. He rolls his head toward Eddie, belatedly aware that he said "Ho-elle".] Joel. [Like Joe. With an 'L'. Like the pronunciation that his brother insisted on ever since turning fifteen.]
[ Eddie hadn't been worried that a grown-ass man, and a musician nonetheless, wouldn't know how to handle a pipe, but watching Tommy assuages any niggling fears she may have had; he knows what he's doing, and he looks good doing it too, and she lets herself admire him in his too-tight merch shirt as he takes a deep pull, his ribs expanding and just drawing her attention to the shape of his chest muscles beneath the cotton. ]
Oh, wow. Full government name and everything. [ There's a softer lilt to his voice when he speaks in Spanish, even just the few syllables of his brother's name, and Eddie can count on one hand the number of Spanish words she knows, but she decides here and now that she'll get a fucking Pimsleur book on tape if she has to, because she wants to hear him say that again.
Well. Maybe not his brother's name, specifically, but Spanish stuff in general.
She leans forward to take the pipe from him, her fingertips brushing against his palm. ] What's your full name, then?
[He is. It's been awhile but despite that, with the drift he already has going he'd put bets on this being good shit. His palm lights up slowly in the wake of Eddie's fingertips. Tommy grins. Slowly. There's a lot of Spanish speakers in Texas but not A Lot and Tommy might be already a little high but he knows what it looks like when a chica likes his accent.
He leans in, in all ways.] Tomás Antonio Gabriel Miller.
He's right. Eddie does only carry the good shit now that she can afford to, now that she's not peddling cheap grass to clueless teenagers, but she self-medicates frequently enough that she forgets that someone else may not have the same tolerance to it that she does.
All three of them smoke up regularly, actually. Stevie, to cope with her migraines; Chrissy, to cope with her chronic pain; and Eddie, to cope with life in general. All three of them use it to cope with the nightmares. It takes more than a few puffs for her to start feeling it, but what she is feeling is hopelessly charmed as she watches Tommy relax.
She smiles at him, wide and bright, as he really draws out the accent when he replies. ]
Tomás, hm? [ To her credit, her imitation isn't bad. Eddie has an ear for music, after all. ] That's way better than mine.
Tease. [Tommy winks. At least he knows he's already half-way to stoned - he won't take another hit until he settles into the first. Tommy walks a fine edge of self-control; he's let it run long, pulled the tether short and tight... so now he knows how to tread right down the middle.] C'mon, then. ¿Cómo te llamas?
[ If possible, her grin just gets wider when he winks at her, and she wrinkles her nose to help combat the pink she knows is starting to stain her face.
What? He's hot, okay, and he's looking at her like that, and she still hasn't forgotten the condoms from earlier. ]
You don't think my parents named me Eddie for real?
[ She stalls for time by taking another hit off the pipe, sitting up straight so she can get a good lungful, all that singing talent being made even more obvious by how much she can expand her ribcage to get even more smoke and tar into her lungs.
After a long beat, she opens her mouth to let the smoke curl free. ] It's Edith, [ she says, shaking her head. ] Edith Dawn.
And then Eddie takes in a wide lungful and the shape of piercings stand out proud and obvious from small, perky tits and Tommy's fucked. He's so fucked.
His mouth is dry and he doesn't know if it's the weed or arousal but luckily he's high enough that his dick doesn't try to leap into action. Tommy finds himself staring at some nothing-hotel art on the wall. He blinks, tries not to remember the sight of Eddie's chest, and looks back at her. Keep to her face, Tomás.] Dida. [Tommy nods, because her name works, it makes sense.]
[ Eddie's starting to feel the edges of a buzz, the dull background throbbing of her headache melting away, and she winds up leaning back against one hand, cocking her head to one side until she remembers the heavy towel wrapped around her hair. She has to sit up a little straighter to pull the damn thing off, squeezing the ends for good measure before tossing the whole thing aside in the vague direction of the bathroom. It leaves her hair hanging loose in wet tendrils, but she just rakes them all out of her face with her fingers before turning her attention back to him. ]
What's that? [ she asks, picking up the pipe again and holding it out to him in a silent question. ]
[Tommy's attention is a waterfall, following her towel, the drape of her dark hair as it falls loose, the pull of her fingers. He blinks and then shakes his head at the offered pipe even though he wants to say yes. Next time.] Dida. Your name. Edith Dawn. Dida is what... [He inhales, and exhales.]
My family, or. Spanish. Kinda. Like, I probably shoulda been Tomi, but because my mother always called me Thomas Antonio, instead of Tomi she called me Toto. So Edith Dawn, you'd be Dida. Because Edith Dawn, it's too nice to not say the whole thing. So the nickname's from both. [Obvious. Obviously. Tommy grins, feels the stretch of his face and laughs.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-05-24 12:48 pm (UTC)Tommy stands as she's talking and looks at the wet, bloody twist of his shirt for just a moment before the other paramedic is handing him something dry. Lost and Found, he says as he gets back to clearing down. 'Eddie and the Dead Girls' is the headliner of the acts listed on the back of the festival merch but hell if he and Joel ain't there too, down toward the bottom. Tommy glances at it before climbing carefully into the cotton. Handshakes are exchanged.]
Thanks, Doc. C'mon, Trouble.[Tommy pulls the tarp back for Eddie to pass through ahead of him.
Outside even the mist has moved on and while one couldn't call it a beautiful - too many clouds still to catch stars - it's not bad. The rain's pushed the humidity on through, leaving something like a warm, clean night behind. In his pocket, Tommy's phone buzzes. JOEL: Nobody committed murder, not yet anyway. I'm sat at the hotel bar for now. Back later. He tucks it away.] Suppose this is where... well. You should probably get some sleep.
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Date: 2025-05-24 01:09 pm (UTC)Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.
[ She'd have to, spending all her time with Stevie. If there's one thing you learn, being friends with Stevie Harrington, it's how to handle concussion symptoms. And also haircare. So two things.
Eddie yanks Chrissy's scrunchie out of her hair and reties the whole wet mess into another knot, hopelessly tangling her curls in a way that will probably get her yelled at later but at least keeps them from dripping down her neck in a way she hates. It also keeps her busy so she's not too obviously checking Tommy out while he gets redressed into something dry. She can't help smirk at the sight of her band name stretched out across his shoulders, though. The shirt's a little small on him and she is not complaining.
He holds the tent flap open for her and she ducks through it, stretching her back out once she's standing in the cooler night air, taking a deep breath and then letting it out slowly. Indiana is a shithole, but sometimes the weather is pretty good, and she's always loved the smell of the air after it rains.
Tommy's face is lit up with the blue glow of his phone, and she half wants to ask what the message was, but it's none of her business. ]
Yeah, maybe. Think I'm still a little too wired for sleep, though. [ She pulls at the hem of her shirt, grimacing a little as it sticks to her skin — maybe she should have asked the medics for a shirt, too — as they start to walk back. ] Think I'm gonna go back to my room and light up, since I'm not allowed alcohol tonight. [ The paramedic hadn't said that, but Eddie knows what she can and can't do while monitoring a concussion. ] You're, uh. You're welcome to come with, if you like. If you got nowhere to be.
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Date: 2025-05-24 06:32 pm (UTC)Just in case.] My schedule's clear, anyhow.
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Date: 2025-05-24 06:39 pm (UTC)Stevie's doctors say that THC helps with managing concussion symptoms. [ She sounds like she's quoting someone, her voice taking on a slightly different timbre, a little higher and more nasally.
She drops the act when he agrees, though, beaming at him as they begin their slog back through the mud to get to their transport away from the festival grounds. ]
Don't worry, papi. I'll take good care of you.
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Date: 2025-05-24 06:57 pm (UTC)A show this size takes time to break down; staff will be working well into the night and the hotel is buzzing, all of them like-minded, still too wired to want to sleep. They know they can nap on the road tomorrow. They don't go anywhere near the bar but Tommy starts to question his decision to follow Eddie, bonly they're at her door before he can change his mind.]
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Date: 2025-05-24 07:09 pm (UTC)Whatever. They're about the same height. If worst comes to worst she can give him something of hers to wear.
The hotel is small, small enough that nearly the entire clientele is part of the tour, but they don't run into anyone who'd stop them for long enough than a quick "hey, how are you, great show." For a moment, Eddie thinks Tommy might be looking for someone, but he doesn't dawdle and he doesn't try to peel away from her once they get inside, so she doesn't question it, just forges ahead until they can make their way through the halls to where her room is.
She hasn't even fished her room key out of her pocket before the door next to hers is swung wide open and Stevie Harrington is suddenly standing in the hall.
Eddie jumps. ] Jesus fucking Christ!
[ Stevie just stares at her. ] What did the paramedics say?
[ Still clutching her chest, halfway leaning into Tommy like she had when they were walking to the medics tent, Eddie shakes her head. Recounting her prognosis takes half a second, and when Stevie's eyes shift from Eddie to the man beside her, she dutifully tells her what Tommy's diagnosis was, too. HIPAA who? It seems to soften her a little, her stance shifting so she looks less like she's about to brace herself for an attack and more like she's going to cock her hip and toss her hair. ]
Hm. Alright, then. [ She holds up one finger, disappears into her room for a moment, and then comes back to toss something at Eddie that she barely manages not to fumble. ] Be safe. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.
[ And then her door slams shut behind her and they're left alone again. Eddie looks down at the projectile she caught and can't help the way her ears turn red. Condoms. She threw a pack of condoms at Eddie's head, all while the hot guy she's been hitting on all night is standing right next to her. ]
I'm going to smother her in her sleep.
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Date: 2025-05-24 07:24 pm (UTC)He really hopes that his messy hair hides the way the tips of his own ears go a little red.] Hey I don't - listen, this isn't something I would normally... I mean. [Tommy rubs a hand over his face and considers the merits of backing away slowly until he's out of sight. He knows they're both consenting adults but getting condoms chucked at you like a teenager will have you reconsidering and the fact that he's been crushing on her since that first show two months ago that he stumbled across doesn't help none.] I didn't tag along expecting anything is all I'm trying to say.
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Date: 2025-05-24 07:38 pm (UTC)[ She's still contemplating murdering her, though, if only because Stevie might be able to bring a guy home — back to her hotel room, whatever — and be cool about it, but Eddie doesn't exactly have her same womanly wizard powers, so having Stevie show up to cockblock her really isn't helping.
Oh well. No way out but through, and all that. Eddie just prays her face isn't too terribly red. She's supposed to be a cool and worldly rockstar and shit, and the combination of Stevie giving her condoms and a guy she'd definitely let pin her down to the ground in a way more fun way than they've managed before is making her feel like she's back in high school. Not that she ever ran into a situation like this in high school. ] Relax. [ She shoves the condoms into his chest so that she can get her key out of her wet jeans. ] We can just smoke up.
[ She shoves her door open and leads the way in, knowing there's no chance she can do a frantic tidy-up and desperately wishing she could, anyway. She makes an immediate beeline to her suitcase so she can rummage through it and pull out a pair of sweats. ] You want?
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Date: 2025-05-24 08:31 pm (UTC)Inside the room, Tommy tosses the box onto the nearest flat surface and looks around. Eddie's room looks more like Joel's, where various objects are being used as clothes hangers and last night's take out is still on the table. His own room, in contrast, looks like it's ready for the next guests - complete with hospital corners on the bed.
He turns at her offer.] I ain't gonna fit in your pants. [But he has noticed that his own are... damp. Wet. He'd maybe say soaked but they're not dripping, just clinging to his thighs and calves and are much less comfortable than they were while he was actively working and not, well, doing whatever this is.]
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Date: 2025-05-24 08:41 pm (UTC)She makes a point to look him over when he turns down her offer, her eyes lingering on his damp jeans, but she just tilts her head in an accepting kind of nod before returning to her luggage to grab herself a shirt. ]
Well, I'm gonna change. You know how to pack this or do you want some pre-rolls?
[ This being the pipe she pulled out from a pocket somewhere, along with a little baggy. ]
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Date: 2025-05-24 09:21 pm (UTC)When your dad's a hard-ass cop, there's something in a kid that wants to rail against it. Tommy did for a long time. Funny, considering that he ended up in the Army - or maybe not, guess it depends on how you look at it. Either way, he's never lost the skills that he picked up trying to dissociate as a teenager.] How long y'all been playing together? [he asks through the door as he sits at the desk in Eddie's room, pulling his pocketknife from his pocket. Flipping it open he cleans the bowl of the pipe with a few shallow strokes of the blade.]
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Date: 2025-05-24 09:29 pm (UTC)[ She decides against the sweats and leaves them draped over the luggage rack, choosing instead a pair of shorts that might have been Stevie's at one point and a well-loved Iron Maiden tee with holes in the seams that she refuses to get rid of no matter how much cajoling she gets about it.
Retreating to the bathroom, she leaves the door cracked a little so she can still hear him as she whips off her wet clothes and leaves them in a heap on the floor while she changes. ]
We all went to high school together, [ she calls through the crack, ripping her bra off with a relieved sigh and adding it to the pile. She uses a wash cloth to clean her face as she continues, wiping away the old sweat and smeared makeup and splatters of dirt that have made a home on her skin. ] But the Dead Girls didn't start until well after graduation. I was playing with a different band in school, buncha guys, but that all fell apart and we went our separate ways, you know how it is.
[ Jeff went to college, Gareth got a job working for the Post Office, and Freik enlisted. She's only sort of kept in touch with them all, not because she doesn't care, but because they all got busy with their own lives. ]
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Date: 2025-05-24 09:59 pm (UTC)[He separates the buds and packs the pipe with a methodical sort of focus, realizing while doing it that his nerves are settled, have been settled for a while. Huh.]
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Date: 2025-05-24 10:14 pm (UTC)She clambers up onto the end of one of the beds, crossing her legs, so she can watch Tommy pack the pipe. ]
Yeah. Not how I expected they'd go, but. Here we are. [ When the three of them were all lying in their hospital beds, convalescing as best they could, clinging to each other to make it through the nightmares, she knows they weren't dreaming of a life like this. ] I'll introduce you to Chrissy, later. She's sweet as pie, you'll like her.
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Date: 2025-05-24 11:07 pm (UTC)He does.
And he covers it up like shit, too, jerking his attention back to what he was doing and nearly spilling the whole thing. She liked his ink? Her goddamn legs. And honestly he'd have never in life would have said that he'd find a woman covered in tattoos attractive but here they are; here she is, looking both fresh and wild, and here he is, struck mute by it. Tommy finishes packing the weed and finally, feeling a little more composed, turns to offer it to Eddie across the gap between desk chair and bed. He sits back.] Really? I can't image anyone sweet lasting five minutes stuck between you and Stevie.
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Date: 2025-05-24 11:15 pm (UTC)For a moment, just a half a second or so, the part of her that's convinced anyone who comes up to talk to her at a party is just angling for an introduction to Stevie rears its head and she wants to falter, but then she clocks how he fumbles the pipe in his hands, the intense focus on his face that even she can tell is forced, and she settles into pleased territory instead. ]
Oh, she's got us both wrapped around her little finger. [ Eddie accepts the pipe and then has to twist around and lean back to reach for her lighter, her legs unfolding to counterbalance for a moment before she's back upright again. She flicks it on and sets it to the bowl. ] She'll get you too, just you wait.
[ She takes a pull, flicking the lighter on again to make sure the embers take, and holds the smoke in her lungs for a long moment as she leans across the divide between them to pass the pipe back. ]
What's your brother's name?
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Date: 2025-05-24 11:57 pm (UTC)[Tommy grins and sinks into the back of his chair; he can feel the weed already. He rolls his head toward Eddie, belatedly aware that he said "Ho-elle".] Joel. [Like Joe. With an 'L'. Like the pronunciation that his brother insisted on ever since turning fifteen.]
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Date: 2025-05-25 12:19 am (UTC)Oh, wow. Full government name and everything. [ There's a softer lilt to his voice when he speaks in Spanish, even just the few syllables of his brother's name, and Eddie can count on one hand the number of Spanish words she knows, but she decides here and now that she'll get a fucking Pimsleur book on tape if she has to, because she wants to hear him say that again.
Well. Maybe not his brother's name, specifically, but Spanish stuff in general.
She leans forward to take the pipe from him, her fingertips brushing against his palm. ] What's your full name, then?
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Date: 2025-05-25 12:30 am (UTC)He leans in, in all ways.] Tomás Antonio Gabriel Miller.
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Date: 2025-05-25 12:36 am (UTC)He's right. Eddie does only carry the good shit now that she can afford to, now that she's not peddling cheap grass to clueless teenagers, but she self-medicates frequently enough that she forgets that someone else may not have the same tolerance to it that she does.
All three of them smoke up regularly, actually. Stevie, to cope with her migraines; Chrissy, to cope with her chronic pain; and Eddie, to cope with life in general. All three of them use it to cope with the nightmares. It takes more than a few puffs for her to start feeling it, but what she is feeling is hopelessly charmed as she watches Tommy relax.
She smiles at him, wide and bright, as he really draws out the accent when he replies. ]
Tomás, hm? [ To her credit, her imitation isn't bad. Eddie has an ear for music, after all. ] That's way better than mine.
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Date: 2025-05-25 12:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 12:45 am (UTC)What? He's hot, okay, and he's looking at her like that, and she still hasn't forgotten the condoms from earlier. ]
You don't think my parents named me Eddie for real?
[ She stalls for time by taking another hit off the pipe, sitting up straight so she can get a good lungful, all that singing talent being made even more obvious by how much she can expand her ribcage to get even more smoke and tar into her lungs.
After a long beat, she opens her mouth to let the smoke curl free. ] It's Edith, [ she says, shaking her head. ] Edith Dawn.
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Date: 2025-05-25 01:04 am (UTC)And then Eddie takes in a wide lungful and the shape of piercings stand out proud and obvious from small, perky tits and Tommy's fucked. He's so fucked.
His mouth is dry and he doesn't know if it's the weed or arousal but luckily he's high enough that his dick doesn't try to leap into action. Tommy finds himself staring at some nothing-hotel art on the wall. He blinks, tries not to remember the sight of Eddie's chest, and looks back at her. Keep to her face, Tomás.] Dida. [Tommy nods, because her name works, it makes sense.]
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Date: 2025-05-25 01:09 am (UTC)What's that? [ she asks, picking up the pipe again and holding it out to him in a silent question. ]
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Date: 2025-05-25 01:33 am (UTC)My family, or. Spanish. Kinda. Like, I probably shoulda been Tomi, but because my mother always called me Thomas Antonio, instead of Tomi she called me Toto. So Edith Dawn, you'd be Dida. Because Edith Dawn, it's too nice to not say the whole thing. So the nickname's from both. [Obvious. Obviously. Tommy grins, feels the stretch of his face and laughs.]
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