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[crackedreflection]

[MT, for quite possibly the first time most people have seen her, looks downright apologetic as she flickers onto the mirror screen. She... also looks a bit banged up. More than a bit, really.

Where has she been these past few weeks, exactly?]

Uh. Hey, everyone. I... probably owe you all an explanation for just vanishing like that.

After the whole fiasco with my fist mission—sorry Lyds, BJ, that one's still my fault—and how my "brilliant idea" completely failed to work out, I got.

Frustrated.

And decided that because obviously it was everyone else's fault that things went wrong, I had to fix things by myself.

Soooo I went into the bayou.

By myself.

Yeah.

But hey! I'm a toy and practically indestructible so... at least I'm not dead? Ha.

Hahahaha...

Anyways, I obviously got back, and I'm. In my room right now. Have been for a few days, really, I just conked out for like... forty-eight hours straight.

Er. Sorry for locking the door, Beej.

ANYWAYS! How have you been doing while I was, er, gone?

[MT is obviously exhausted and looks like she needs a shower, but... at least she's learned a lesson? Maybe?]

Comments

[creepyoldguy]

Well, that distracted him enough that MT would be able to nab the bag of treats from him.

"Seriously? Hah! Sorry that I was lying, in that case!"

[crackedreflection]

"Awww. You got my hopes up, you monster." MT seems half-genuinely disappointed and tosses a pillow at his face, smirking.

She settles down for a few moments, munching on the gummies as an oddly contemplative expression passes over her face.

"...hey, BJ.

"You ever wonder if you're fake? Like. Not a real person. And not in the 'I was never alive to begin with, kiddo,' sense, but... gah, it's hard to explain."

It's a hard concept for MT to articulate, and unfortunately for her, she's found the perfect person to talk about it with.

[creepyoldguy]

His grin faded as he set the pillow aside, listening to her question.

"It's kinda hard not to. Most people don't view demons as people, but, as things to order or things to use or as things for to exorcise. Key word being thing and not person."

Beetlejuice rolled his shoulders. "And being a born-dead abomination doesn't exactly help matters. What brought on the in-tr-o-spec-tion?"

[crackedreflection]

"No, no, I don't mean like that." She sighs, turning over to face him. "Although... I guess literally not being human is a part of it. Kinda. It's..."

MT is silent for a few moments as she grapples with the question she's about to ask. "I... I was made to be a side character.

"First a minor antagonist to my prime when she showed up in the mirror car, then 'repurposed' as a guide to kick Jesse's ass into gear when he was making negative progress on 'improving as a person' or whatever." Letting out a small, broken laugh, MT further curls in on herself.

"That's how the train works. The denizens like me are just... characters in the passengers' stories to help them become better people. When I went back just when I was about to die from Corrosion, I played along like a stupid idiot," MT weakly punches the bed with those last two words as she talks into her pillow, "because I was so fixated on... I don't know. I guess the train didn't really want me to think about it. But when Jesse 'completed his journey' and left the train, and I got stranded outside the train with Mace, he made me realize all of it.

"Focusing on not dying, getting off the train for good, and, uh, I'll admit, grinding Mace to death on the wheels of the train did feel good, helped, but... now that I'm here again and I don't know if I'll ever be able to find Jesse again... I just can't stop turning all of it over in my mind. The worst part is that I can't even do anything about it anymore! Can't bust up the train, can't punt that little orb bastard off the train, can't find Jesse again, can't do... anything. And I'm just stuck thinking about it all because I can't get it out of my head."

[creepyoldguy]

Beetlejuice listened, tilting his head every so often, his left foot tapping while he processed all of that.

"D'ya want advice? Or just wanna vent?"

[crackedreflection]

"Both. Both are good."

[creepyoldguy]

"Okay, then. I guess, I'd just say to find something you wanna change here. That way you don't stew on the stuff you can't do anything about."

[crackedreflection]

"Like what?"

Beat.

"Seriously, I'm looking for suggestions."

[creepyoldguy]

"That would be your call, kid. Personally, I'm starting to agree with the It'd be better if the townies didn't hate our guts crowd. And apparently one of the things that's got them riled is the graffiti, but, oh, joy---the graffiti was done by Mal, and she already hates me, so....I dunno."

He shrugged.

"Is making a group of people hate you slightly less a good deal for making one person hate you slightly more? I'm not sure that it is, but, maybe there's another solution I 'm not seeing."

[crackedreflection]

"...I mean, Mal kinda hates me too, so maybe I can use my paintbending to clean up her mess even more efficiently."

MT snorts. Seems like she's in a slightly better mood now.

[creepyoldguy]

"Yeah, but, Lyds has to live with her. And I promised not to drag her into the middle of anything between me and Princess Hate."

He held up his hands. "Not sayin' you can't do your own thing, kid, just that it gets real complicated real quick."

Beetlejuice sighed. "I'd probably have an easier time getting on the good side of the local dead residents, but, I haven't met any yet."

[crackedreflection]

"Really? That's weird."

MT contemplates BJ's complaint for a moment, then furrows her brow. "Maybe the people who live here don't have souls?" It's obviously a joke.

(Mostly.)

[creepyoldguy]

“That could be a fun theory to test, but, I think this world’s deceased are likely just hanging out elsewhere.”

He’d find out where, crash the party, and hand out business cards. Eventually.

[crackedreflection]

"Guess we're gonna have to bide our time by making trouble for the Corrosion until then, huh?"

MT smirks. It's a very familiar-looking smirk to Beetlejuice; he sees it whenever he looks in the mirror.

[creepyoldguy]

"At the very least keeping it away from the food joints and mausoleum," he agreed with a snort.