It's Hard to Dance with a Devil on Your Back{Abby}

[MARY SANG]

Three days, and three hours of sleep. That was one hour of sleep each day for the past three days. Not including the micro-naps that she took while sitting at her desk or during class. Each time she blinked her eyes it was like she fell asleep for just that split moment, before she was woken again. She learned to survive like this, and the sleepiness was a constant feeling. She couldn't remember the last time that she had a decent rest, when she woke up bright-eyed and busy tailed. When the car-honking didn't bother her, or when the clanking of spoons in coffee cups didn't irritate her. It was easy to have a short temper when you were constantly tired, but she had learned to real it in. Not snap at people, not be grouchy. It wasn't their fault that she lacked sleep.

The lack of sleep did funny things to you, actually. At first, it was like you could fall asleep but your brain was buzzing. It turned into laziness and made it too easy to zone-out. But after a while, you realized things were sharper, more defined. They walked that fine like of hallucination, but she was aware. She could feel the eyes boring into the back of her head, she could feel gazes burning into her face. She could feel their eyes tickle the messy buns on either side of her head, and she could feel them staring. It wasn't that disgusting undressing-you-with-their-eyes, it was that what-is-she-wearing sort of stare.

People had tendancies to stare at things that were different, and Mary was quite different indeed. Cameo earrings in the shape of coffins bounced off of her jawbone, about her throat was a lace choker with a black cross. Just below that, a delicate silver chain with a bleeding heart dipping into the tattooed clevage that was exposed by the faux-corset halter she wore. The tattoo on her lower back peeked out from beneth the top, just enough before the ink dove into the velvet and lace skirt. Most noticibly, were the almost alien-esque shoes she wore. The platform was five inches tall, with the back just slightly higher, and had holes bunched through to show off meaningless springs inside. Blue smears rested on the edge of the white mug in front of her.

Just as her mug stilled, with her eyes widening just slightly, she picked up the white plastic spoon, and carefully began to stir the coffee. The cafe was a nice one, and even contained real silverware. But she had rejected the metal spoons, and instead used the packet containing a plastic spoon that she kept in her purse. Nothing reflective that she could see. The bags under her eyes only aided to her dark-side look, making her look that much more sullen.

Her eyes closed for just a moment as she stirred, and her entire body went still. Just a split second doze where her head tilted forward slightly, before her hand resumed the stirring, before lifting the coffee back to her lips. The caffeine didn't help, caffeine stopped having an effect on her a long time ago. Pushing the cup away slightly, so she couldn't see the calm, creamy surface, she picked up the crossaint on the small plate next to her, and began to slowly pick it apart, pushing the soft, flakey pieces past her blue lips.

Maybe people weren't staring at her because of her appearance, maybe they were waiting to see how long it would take before she faceplanted straight into her food. The simple thought made the corner of her mouth twitch up, the tiny dimples at the corners peeking through. An in doing so, the smile gave her just enough energy to sit up straight and eat the pieces of her crossaint just a little bit faster. She was in absolutely no rush, but these things happened. You could walk over the brink of being over-tired in a split second, and find that you had enough energy to take on the world. It was absurd really, but as long as she did her best not to think about it--Mary wouldn't tire herself out and waste her newfound energy too quickly.

Tags: Sully / Abby / Olley / Mary
Notes: Lemme know if I should fix anything~
Words: 729
Outfit: Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary...

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[ABIGAIL DUSTIN]

Most people would assume the worst part of stripping would be skeezy guys trying to scam on you, or maybe how everyone thought it automatically made you a whore. Well, for Abigail Dustin, the thing she was hating most was starting to become the hours. Why did men have to come to strip clubs at the wee hours of the morning?And why did Abigail get those nights when she had class the next day? Oh, right, because life was a freaking bitch. 

Another important question: how much scrubbing did it take to get every little annoying piece of body glitter off? Abby crinkled her nose and flicked off one of the offending pieces still clinging to her arm. Thankfully, Marley was still at her parents' house and would be there for most of the afternoon. Since class was over and she needed caffeine lest she die, Abigail decided coffee was a fantastic idea. Dumping her books at her apartment, Abby hopped into a cab to head up to her favorite cafe. She planned on getting a large vanilla latte with a shot of espresso. Mmm, just the thought warmed her stomach. That was the perfect recipe to wake Abby up and she was already wistfully imagining the smell of coffee beans. 

Once in the cafe and coffee in hand, Abby went to sit down in one of the cushy chairs by the window. Ahh, that was nice. Her joints and muscles ached from last night's shows. This chair was just what the doctor ordered. After only a moment, Abby realized Fairy Godmother was fretting about inside her head. "Hey, what's the problem? You're acting like you've seen a ghost." Abby thought. Despite disagreements on the whole Charley/Zack thing, Abby did like the Fairy Godmother. They got along well and Abby never liked people she knew acting all afraid like this. "There's another spirit here. Not a good one. Not at all." FG whispered, wringing her hands out. Oh, great. Abby's shoulders tensed up with anxiety as she glanced around the cafe. She had met other kindred spirits but had yet to have an encounter with a villian. Was it the Evil Stepmother? Abigail had been looking for her, to keep her away from Charley. But no, the Fairy Godmother would have just said that. Who could it--Oh. 

Oh. 

Abigail's face drained of color as her now bone-white fingers clenched her coffee mug. The girl looked nice enough; she was pretty, maybe a little older than Abby, had a killer old-school goth style and looked like she could use some sleep. That wasn't what Abigail was concerned about, though. It was the grotesque, terrifying face she saw hovering behind the girl in a reflection. Abigail blinked a few times, trying to make it go away but the face remained. Holy shit, so that was what had the FG cowering. Abigail didn't want to cower, though. She wanted to know this girl and the situation. Besides, the conversation starter she had in her head needed to said anyways. 

Clutching her mug with a death grip, Abby walked as calmly as she could over to the fellow incarnate. Smile on face, she set her cup on the table and said, "Nice outfit! I'm loving the old-school. You don't see that much anymore." Abby truly liked her outfit; it was never something Abby herself would wear (or could pull off), but it was a style she couldn't help but like. "I'm Abigail, by the way." Abby's eyes flickered to the face before she looked back and thrust out her hand for a shake. So far, so good.  

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notes;; wooo crappy posts late at night! Lemme know if I need to change anything c:

outfit

[MARY SANG]

Most people didn't approach a girl like Mary, for the simple fact they were afraid that she might bite their head off. So she hadn't exactly expected the chirpy voice right in front of her, and it caused a little start where the piece of crossaint fell from her boney fingers. Mary's large, downturned eyes stared at Abby for a moment, her tiny mouth opening and closing before she dusted her crumby fingertips off on a napkin, and reached for Abigail's hand and shook it, still looking a bit surprised. "Nice to meet you Abigail, my name is Mary." Her words were somewhat slow, aunnunciating each accented word very carefully. "I'm glad you like it, I made it myself."

The girl smiled brightly, and for just that moment it erased the tired lines that were constantly etched onto her pale face. "Please sit! If you'd like." She didn't want to impose on the blonde, incase it was just a passing compliment, sparked by the bravery of leaving the cafe. Now, Mary would never admit it--but she was dying for company. Someone to talk to other than herself. She had absolutely no idea what she was in for when asking this girl to sit, but there was something asbout her. Something in the way she spoke that made Mary feel like she needed to be in this girl's company. Unfortunately, she was unaware that the other Mary was hovering above her shoulder constantly. The living Mary never saw her, except in reflections or in mirrors. The idea of knowing that the spirit was always with her wouldn't help her sleep any better.

How to continue the conversation? Mary wracked her tired brain for answers, and instead ended up nudging the plate with the extra crossaint on it towards Abby. Mary usually ordered two, eating a full one, half of a second and saving the rest for later during classes. But the idea of a new friend knowing that she had a weakness for food probably wasn't the best way to make a first impression. "I promise I didn't sneeze on it, if you'd like a crossaint to go with your coffee." Mary sat up a little straighter, before resuming lifting the pieces of the torn crossaint in front of her to her blue painted lips. The spirit that haunted her wasn't helpful at all, they never spoke. The only words she heard the grotesque figure issue were usually about a lost baby...or murdering her host. Not quite comforting, and not very helpful in trying to figure out exactly why Mary just wanted to wrap herself in the warm light that Abigail seemed to be emitting.

Mary had caught the flicker of eyes, and her head turned to glance behind her. Nothing, not even Mary saw the horrible thing behind her. She looked back at Abigail, and raised her highly arched brows, before a flush of color swept into her cheeks. "Unless you have somewhere you need to be? I wouldn't want to keep you." Liar. Mary wanted this girl to sit and talk to her. Just a few more moments in that relaxing aura, as selfish as it was. Thoughts were racing across Mary's mind; this girl seemed sweet. But was it a set up, would she go laughing her way out of the door? As soon as these thoughts rushed across Mary's mind, they were gone again. It took too much effort to worry too much, and for someone who was eternally tired, it was a waste of time.

Her mouth opened, wanting to ask what had brought Abigail over. Her mouth closed. She had commented on her outfit, but that couldn't be simply it, right? Mary's mouth opened yet again, "What--" And it shut. She scrunched her lips together tightly, "What really brought you over here?" The words came blurting out, her vocal chords humming the words. Again, she wasn't entirely sure why she had asked it. If she recieved a funny look, maybe she could brush it off with a tired laugh and an explination that she hadn't been to sleep yet. The idea of an excuse calmed her racing heart, and helped to force the color that rushed into her face yet again.

Tags: Sully / Abby / Olley / Mary
Notes: Baw. ;o; You posted. <3 I love Abigail.
Words: 732
Outfit: Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary...

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