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June 11th, 2017:
It's been over half a year in Darrow, now, and she's trying not to think of her current, relative comfort as settling. She has a job that still feels too good to be true, and both her wardrobe and her social circle are more expansive than what she had back home. It's not enough to make up for the absence of her family, of course. But she has to admit, if only to herself, that it's a relief to no longer be aching for them all the time, or even most of the time. It's a relief to have other things on her mind, to have business to attend to.
Not that this is business, per se. She's just exploring the boardwalk. Now that the shops are all officially unshuttered, she's trying to get a sense of what's there -- easier done without Saoirse or Jordan or anyone else in tow, though it's ultimately as much for their benefit as hers. She'd like to have some ideas of what might appeal to them ahead of time, instead of just wandering the length of the place with a child in tow and hoping something might catch their eye.
It's a pleasant afternoon, and there's a decent crowd. It's easy to let herself get carried along at an ambling pace; she's in no hurry, and it's not so packed she can't step around people if she needs to. And when she does find herself held up, it's behind a young man who has a rather adorable baby, peering wide-eyed at her from over his shoulder.
Another silver lining for all the time she's spent here is that the sight of other people's babies doesn't pain her anymore. She gives the child a smile and a little wave, and after a moment of nonplussed consideration, the baby rewards her with a broad grin and a shriek. Greta chuckles a bit ruefully. "That's on me, I'm afraid," she tells the child's father when he glances back at her. "I didn't mean to wind her up."
It's been over half a year in Darrow, now, and she's trying not to think of her current, relative comfort as settling. She has a job that still feels too good to be true, and both her wardrobe and her social circle are more expansive than what she had back home. It's not enough to make up for the absence of her family, of course. But she has to admit, if only to herself, that it's a relief to no longer be aching for them all the time, or even most of the time. It's a relief to have other things on her mind, to have business to attend to.
Not that this is business, per se. She's just exploring the boardwalk. Now that the shops are all officially unshuttered, she's trying to get a sense of what's there -- easier done without Saoirse or Jordan or anyone else in tow, though it's ultimately as much for their benefit as hers. She'd like to have some ideas of what might appeal to them ahead of time, instead of just wandering the length of the place with a child in tow and hoping something might catch their eye.
It's a pleasant afternoon, and there's a decent crowd. It's easy to let herself get carried along at an ambling pace; she's in no hurry, and it's not so packed she can't step around people if she needs to. And when she does find herself held up, it's behind a young man who has a rather adorable baby, peering wide-eyed at her from over his shoulder.
Another silver lining for all the time she's spent here is that the sight of other people's babies doesn't pain her anymore. She gives the child a smile and a little wave, and after a moment of nonplussed consideration, the baby rewards her with a broad grin and a shriek. Greta chuckles a bit ruefully. "That's on me, I'm afraid," she tells the child's father when he glances back at her. "I didn't mean to wind her up."
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Date: 2017-05-30 04:50 pm (UTC)From:"Now if she was just starting to fall asleep when it was nap time that would be a different story, but since we're just out and about you're okay."
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Date: 2017-05-31 12:12 am (UTC)From:"She does seem easily delighted, though. What's her name?"
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Date: 2017-06-01 05:16 pm (UTC)From:"She's ten months old and a little ball of wiggles."
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Date: 2017-06-01 06:40 pm (UTC)From:Ten months is rather close to how old her son would've been, if he'd come through with her. Sometimes she wishes he had. It would've been hard, looking after him on her own, but it wouldn't have been so different from how things were back home (except back home, no one was dropping dozens of gold pieces into their till every month as a matter of course, so in that respect, it might even have been easier). Maybe it's for the best that he didn't, but looking at Ripley, it's impossible not to think about how much time she's missed with him.
"She is entirely adorable," Greta informs him, grinning as the girl tugs on her hand. "Mine would be about her age, if he was here." She hitches her shoulders in a little shrug, not wanting to seem as if she's fishing for sympathy. There's certainly nothing Jesse could do about the whole strange situation.
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Date: 2017-06-01 08:49 pm (UTC)From:"Thanks, she absolutely takes after her mom. Which you'd be able to tell if she was still in the city and here," Jesse said. It was maybe a weird way to mention it but he wanted her to know that he kind of got what she was saying about her own son not being here. Jesse had to admit though it was easier to lose Beca than it would be Ripley.
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Date: 2017-06-01 10:47 pm (UTC)From:Greta's attention quickly shifts to the girl's father, her brow furrowing in dismay. He might not be looking for sympathy, either, but she can't just let that pass without comment. "You're the second person I've met who's had that happen to them," she says, punctuating it with a little tsk. Bad enough that it happened to Sam, let alone this fellow -- and probably others as well. Who knows? It might be a habit the city's cultivated. "It's a shame."
He does seem to be getting on, though. She tries not to find that irksome: Darrow, just overflowing with young fathers who rose to the occasion. Goodness only knows how long Jesse has had to get used to things, but she has no business presuming it was easy for him, or that her own husband couldn't do the same.
It's only a moment or two of distraction, but that's all Ripley needs to successfully cram Greta's finger into her mouth. "Oh," Greta sputters out a startled laugh, "well done, you. Could I have that back?"
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Date: 2017-06-03 04:58 am (UTC)From:"Yeah, I've met several. We talked about starting a support group but it's really hard to find that many babysitters for the same night," Jesse joked. While he wouldn't wish his situation on anyone it was nice to have people to commiserate with at times, making it feel less alone. If other people found it hard but were making it through then he could too, right?
"Oh, sorry about that," Jesse said, laughing as he pulled Ripley back to try and get Greta's finger out of her mouth. He should have been more careful about that because, no offense to Greta, but he had no idea where the woman's finger had been. "Here, I've got a wipe if you want to clean your finger off."
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Date: 2017-06-03 07:36 pm (UTC)From:"I promise my hand's clean, for whatever that's worth," Greta says with a sheepish smile as she recovers her finger from Ripley's grasp. The offer of a wipe seems a little overblown -- it's not like the child is rabid or anything -- but absently wiping her hand off on her skirts wouldn't sell her reassurance very well. She accepts the wipe, adding, "I suppose she's putting things in her mouth all the time." It certainly felt as if she'd started teething.
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Date: 2017-06-04 06:59 am (UTC)From:"Yeah, fortunately she hasn't been crying too much from the pain but she's definitely been drooling and sticking everything in her mouth," Jesse admitted. He knew he was lucky in that aspect, she'd only kept him up a few nights with crying from teething and for the most part has been pretty great. The floors of his apartment and work were super spotless though just to avoid her cramming anything dangerous or disgusting in her mouth.
"Crawling around a lot too, so losing some of her baby chubbiness and you can really see her mom in her face. Here, look..." Jesse said, pulling out his phone and scrolling through the pictures until he found one of Beca that didn't have her rolling her eyes or flipping off the camera.
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Date: 2017-06-04 03:57 pm (UTC)From:When he shows her the photo, things only get more bewildering. Greta blinks, the familiar face taking just a moment to register with her hair and clothes so different, then lets out a little hoot of astonishment. "But that's the Princess!" she blurts. "That's--she looks exactly like the Princess, from back home. Cinderella." Sometimes people share the same face, and part of her knows that this is probably something like that. But she can't help but hope that someone else from home has made it here.
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Date: 2017-06-05 04:11 am (UTC)From:For a moment, Jesse wasn't sure what to say. He thought the world of Beca and to him she was a princess. But there was no way that anyone else would ever call her that. Even when he did she rolled her eyes at him even while giving that little smile that let him know that she was secretly pleased. But yeah, once Greta called her Cinderella then it made a bit more sense, like how Jessica looked just like Beca, only taller.
Normally Jesse tried really hard not to think about how some of his friends had the face of famous actresses or some people that arrived were actually characters from stories. The implications of that kind of sucked and messed with his head so he tried to just not dwell on it. This was pretty hard to ignore though.
"Yeah, sometimes people here... they have faces of people in other worlds," he said, giving her a tight smile. "How- how do you know Cinderella?"
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Date: 2017-06-05 11:19 am (UTC)From:She smiles sheepishly, then inclines her head in modest acknowledgment. "I wouldn't say I knew her -- just in passing, really. I met her in the Woods a few times. She was running away from the Festival, and I, well," she huffs out a preemptively embarrassed laugh, aware of how mad this is going to sound, "I needed her shoes to break a Curse. Or one of her shoes, anyway. It's... sort of a long story. But we parted on good terms." That seems like the most important detail to land on. She doesn't want to sell herself as the Princess's friend, but she doesn't want to come across as if she harassed the woman, either.
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Date: 2017-06-05 10:35 pm (UTC)From:The question was out of his mouth before he really thought about it. Jese had a long standing policy that he didn't ever mention to the people here that they were fictional or had the face of an actor or actress back home. It was pretty much a shitty thing to do and more of a headache than he wanted to deal with.
But what she had said clicked into place so fast and it was one of his favorite musicals that he didn't think about it. Plus he was still dealing with the idea of Beca being a princess or even just looking at her picture on his phone. He should have just kept his mouth shut.
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Date: 2017-06-05 10:50 pm (UTC)From:And here she was, beginning to think that her story just wasn't here. She's found most of the others, or variations of them, but nothing went the way it was supposed to. Jack gets the beans from some mysterious old man; Cinderella flees the Festival, but never runs into anyone of consequence. Even the Rapunzle she's met isn't her Rapunzel.
But Jesse rattles off the words as if he's known them by heart for ages, and she finds herself reaching for his shoulder, as if to confirm his solidity. "You know my story?" she asks, astonishment giving way to burgeoning delight. Maybe they haven't just been erased.
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Date: 2017-06-06 02:58 am (UTC)From:Jesse's panic was only momentarily relieved when he saw just how excited she was that he actually knew her. It could have gone really poorly but fortunately Greta seemed to just accept that he knew her story and that she wasn't fictional, which made sense. Everything that happened to her would get made into a story of sorts that other people would hear about. There weren't hundreds of new shows, books, and movies made every day in her world.
Then Jesse realized that Greta must be the baker's wife. And her story did NOT end happily.
"Yeah, I've... I've heard of your story where I'm from," he said. "It's... it's called Into the Woods where I'm from."
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Date: 2017-06-06 07:45 pm (UTC)From:Apparently, they haven't. Maybe it shouldn't thrill her so much, but it's hard not to feel vindicated. That will show all the versions that wrote them out. "You have to tell me everything," she insists, wide-eyed. "How does it go?" She stops just short of asking if they defeat the second Giant or not -- that seems like cheating -- but there's nothing to suggest that she'll even remember any of this when she goes back home. It might not matter what he tells her.
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Date: 2017-06-06 07:57 pm (UTC)From:"Here, I don't live far from here. If you really want to hear how the story says everything happens, we can do it there over some coffee or something. That way you can tell me what had happened last before you showed up," Jesse said. Plus it would give him time to think of a way to tell Greta that she cheated on her husband then died.
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Date: 2017-06-08 12:58 am (UTC)From:That last point is driven home when he asks her what happened last, and she ducks her head, cheeks prickling. She doesn't regret what happened in the Woods, but she's not so oblivious or self-righteous as to think that no one else would take issue with her behavior. Some of what she did would be frowned upon in polite society -- perhaps even more so here, where the importance of marital fidelity has aged far better than the extent of a Prince's authority. She doesn't expect 'I cheated on my husband with a married man' to earn her a hearty pat on the back.
"Er, yes," she continues, clearing her throat awkwardly. "We can compare notes." The prospect, if potentially embarrassing, is still rather exciting, and she starts to recover some of her enthusiasm. "I'm rather desperately curious," she admits, glancing over at him with a smile. "Everyone else's stories are so different, here."
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Date: 2017-06-08 04:29 pm (UTC)From:"Why don't I just tell you the entire story as I know it," Jesse finally said after a moment. He could just say she disappeared into the woods with the Prince as let it seem like the audience got to drew their own conclusions, which they kind of were. "And yeah... there are a ton of different versions of pretty much everyone's story ever."
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Date: 2017-06-08 11:29 pm (UTC)From:Her enthusiasm is tempered by the way Jesse's behaving. He seems rather subdued, as if the story, as he knows it, might not be exactly what she wants to hear. In a sudden burst of paranoia, she wonders if he knows about her and the Prince. It certainly isn't a detail she'd planned on sharing with anyone. Nor would she have expected the Prince to have told anyone, and not just because she got the impression that their encounter, while thrilling for her, was unremarkable (or perhaps just typical) for him. But how else could it have made it into the fabric of their tale?
If her spirits are a little dampened, they're not entirely doused, and she spends most of the short walk to Jesse's apartment amusing Ripley -- who admittedly makes the job easy.
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Date: 2017-06-10 05:25 am (UTC)From:It had been clearly been child proofed, everything that could be pulled off of a shelf by a curious, crawling baby had been moved higher. There was a giant TV opposite the couch one wall and a bunch of random, sentimental knick-knacks here and there. It was definitely a home and not just a house.
"If you're thirsty help yourself to anything in the fridge," he added. There was water, beer, wine, juice, and pretty much anything in between.
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Date: 2017-06-11 02:40 am (UTC)From:She fetches a cup out of the dish drainer and helps herself to some juice, then takes in the apartment while she waits. It's not that it's less tidy than hers -- she can see the work that's been put into making sure the baby can't get into anything dangerous, even if she tries -- but it's clearly more lived-in, with a greater accumulation of stuff. She's been avoiding that, a little. She has everything she needs, of course, but hasn't much extra. Her apartment still has an inn-like feel to it, a space she keeps in good order but hasn't really made homey. Doing so would've felt presumptuous. Or like giving up.
Not that she'd ever say as much. When Jesse reemerges, she instead offers a wry, "You've certainly made the place safe for babies."
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Date: 2017-06-12 07:54 pm (UTC)From:"Okay, so, your story," he said, grabbing a beer from the fridge before gesturing for them to both sit down at the table. "I'm going to tell you everything I remember from the story..."
And for the next while Jesse laid out the entire first act of the musical as well as he could remember it.
"That all sound correct so far?"
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Date: 2017-06-13 11:26 pm (UTC)From:"Yes," she says, eyes wide. "It's... closer than I thought it would be." She fiddles with her glass, now empty. "I suppose you know about the second Giant, then. Did that part make it in?" They ought to tread carefully, though part of her is so desperately curious that she wants to just ask for everything, even the parts she hasn't lived through, yet. Which is probably cheating, or something, but who knows how Darrow works? Maybe she won't remember any of this, once she's back.
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Date: 2017-06-14 04:40 pm (UTC)From:"Your husband worries about being a good dad, the witch lost her powers, you and the Prince, uh... disappear into the forest," Jesse said, taking another drink of his beer and definitely NOT looking at Greta while he said that. "Cinderella isn't exactly happy with the Prince's wandering eye... and the second giant comes down. That's when people start to die."
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Date: 2017-06-15 03:05 am (UTC)From:The news that the Princess found out is enough to have Greta burying her face in her hands, utterly mortified. But any thoughts of how she might ever face the woman are quickly brushed aside when Jesse starts speaking of deaths -- of multiple deaths. Her hands drop, and the color drains from her face.
"Besides Jack's mother?" She leans forward, knowing she shouldn't ask this, but not letting that stop her. "Who else? Is--my husband, my son, do they...?"
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Date: 2017-06-16 05:30 am (UTC)From:Jesse would have completely glossed over what happened between Greta and the Prince only he wouldn't be doing her any favors with other people who might know the story. It would be ten times worse if she thought no one knew when in fact people did. At least that's what Jesse figured.
"Your husband and son were fine," Jesse reassured her. He could at least give her that much even though it what he had to say next was going to crush her. But he knew that if he was dead he'd at least want to know that Ripley was safe. "Jack, the Princess, and Red all move in with your husband after they kill the second giant. After... after Jack's mother, Red's mother, Rapunzel, the Witch, and... and you all die. I'm sorry, Greta."
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Date: 2017-06-16 03:38 pm (UTC)From:At least he starts with the reassurance that her husband and son are all right. Even the thought of Jack and Red moving in with them afterwards is easy to accept. They'd promised to look after the boy, and if the girl's mother hadn't turned up, of course they would have taken her in, too. Her husband might have needed some persuading, but she wouldn't have thought twice.
But the Princess... how does she fit into it? Greta's given just enough time to wonder how that could work without it being unbearably awkward. Then Jesse tells her, book-ended by clear reluctance and an apology, that she's among the dead.
She stares at him, as if trying to catch him in a lie. He has no reason to lie about such a thing, but she can't just accept it. She's survived the Woods before. Why shouldn't she make it through a second time?
"What?" Her brow furrows, and she gives her head a brisk little shake, as if a gnat had flown into it. "I don't--that can't be right."
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Date: 2017-06-16 05:46 pm (UTC)From:"You were in the forest and the giant... she stepped on you. Jack found your body in the woods."
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Date: 2017-06-16 07:02 pm (UTC)From:"No," she insists. "That's--I'd remember if..." if the last thing she saw was an ominous shadow, or the shape of an enormous shoe descending towards her. No amount of pride or denial could erase an image that bizarre.
And she doesn't remember that. She remembers... the earth rumbling. The groan and snap of branches being bent and broken. The rush of displaced air. A ledge, and a long drop, and reaching for a handhold and missing, and you know what, she doesn't want to remember anymore.
Greta stands, her chair scuffing across the floor. "I think I ought to go," she says, the strain of remaining calm and polite evident in her tone. She can't listen to any more of this, she needs to get somewhere else.
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Date: 2017-06-18 09:04 pm (UTC)From:"But yeah. I- yeah if you need to go you should go," he said, hanging his head. This was definitely his fault. Well, not the murder part, that was the giant, but her finding all of this out was definitely his fault.
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Date: 2017-06-20 04:59 pm (UTC)From:But how can she? The thought of trying to comfort him is as absurd as it is appealing. She might try, but neither of them would be able to stand the attempt.
Better to just leave, quickly, now, before she falls apart.
She steps back, pulling in a breath as if she intends to say something. But no words present themselves, so she turns on her heel and heads for the door, resisting the urge to bolt until she's shut the door quietly behind her.