(Untitled)

[gonewiththereap]

Daisy's hesitant, lately, to leave her parasol behind. For one, it shields her perfect skin from that dreadful sun up above, which is just trying to give her more freckles than the three she already has. Besides that, it's something to hold onto. A security blanket, if you will

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[reapyourshitup]

I seem to have a knack for catching people talking to themselves these last couple of days.

"Oh, I don't know," I say, walking closer to the stage and out of the forested area I was in. "A lot of shit about you is funny, Daisy. Maybe you just need a better sense of humor."

[gonewiththereap]

Daisy is not talking to herself, she's talking with God, which is a helluva difference, and she sits up and peers at Roxy, twirling her parasol above her. "Why, Roxy," she drawls. "I don't think I want your sense of humor. I might just hurt some poor person's feelings."

[reapyourshitup]

I snort lightly at that. "If someone can't handle a little humor at their expense, then they really are a sad fucker. So what's the joke?" I ask, coming to the edge of the stage and leaning against it.

[gonewiththereap]

Daisy's moved until she can cross her legs, the long red denim skirt slitting at the knee. "The terribly sad joke is that we're all still just mortal," she says while shaking off the burn at her hand. "And we might never move on."

[headline_maker]

Sacharissa had mostly been hoping to stumble across Maladicta, the rehearsal schedule and the time of her self-appointed lunch break getting mixed up in her head. Daisy wasn't even close to that, but it was still nice to see her, so Sacharissa just about skipped over. "Hello," she said brightly. "I haven't seen you in a while. How are you doing, Daisy?"

[gonewiththereap]

Daisy slowly sits up, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. "Good afternoon, Miss Sacharissa," she drawls pleasantly. "I'm just peachy. And how are you this fine day?" She's shaken off sadness, like a dog shaking off the rain.

[headline_maker]

"Just peachy," she echoed, slipping down to sit near Daisy. She liked the phrase, strange as it was. Something in Sacharissa had changed lately, though, and it was clear she was happier, brighter, than she'd been a couple weeks before. "I'm just taking a work break."

[gonewiththereap]

Daisy watches her very intently, eyes narrowing. "And what, pray tell, is the break for?"

[soldieringlife]

"Well, if it isn't Little Miss Forever-Twenty-Six," Prior said, seeing Daisy lying about on the stage with her darling little parasol. He hadn't seen her since he'd first arrived on the island, and he hadn't thought much of her at the time, but since then he'd discovered she was one of the few people on the island from close to his own time.

That still didn't stop him from making a snotty remark, of course, but at least he said it without malice. (Or not much, anyway.)

[gonewiththereap]

Daisy simply sits up, parasol still a-twirlin', even though her thoughts are deep and she eyes him, unimpressed. "Twenty-seven," she says, voice icy.

[soldieringlife]

"Forever doesn't last as long as it used to," Prior said. "Shoddy modern workmanship, I expect. You ought to get your money back."

[gonewiththereap]

She's not laughing, nor smiling, because that would cause marks and all she does is cross her legs neatly, smoothing out the fire-red denim skirt and giving him an unimpressed look. "Are you always this funny?" she drawls.