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[jondrette]

[The box-- a computer, she was told, is omitting some sort of light, and Eponine looks at it, her face angled away, her eyes narrowed and her lips parted slightly. She doesn't trust it. But, she was told, that was how you communicated here. When you didn't find people face to face. Reaching out, she raps her hand against the screen, gasping at the hollow sound.] So strange, this computer! I don't understand it. There isn't anything like this in Paris, yet here… In this strange sort of city-- I was told it is not heaven or the hell that I deserve, but rather a city in the In Between. I can only liken it to purgatory, which is better than what I expected. [Her voice is low and hoarse, not fitting for the seventeen-year-old girl that she is at all. Then again, her age is hard to pinpoint in and of itself.]

I'm dead. They said perhaps I was, but I know better. I remember life leaving my body, and… [She pauses, looking away, her eyes fixed at a far-off point, the ghost of a smile forming on her lips.] and I remember his lips pressed against my forehead as I passed. Oh, I am dead, don't try to tell me that I am not, whomever it is I'm speaking to. It's so strange, I'm speaking into a box, and others are supposed to hear me! [She tosses her head back and laughs.]

What a strange, strange world this is. Heaven or Hell or In Between, perhaps it is all the same. They said it was an In Between. Why am I not in hell? All who know me know that's where I belong. I do not belong here, and yet, [she gestures.] here I am. Is it not a wonder?

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[jondrette]

[She looks down.] No! You're mistaken, m'sieur, I do not stand on a turtle.

[bacondivination]

It's a very large turtle.

[ He kind of feels like he should be teasing her or something, but... the truth is just as efficient. ]

[jondrette]

[She looks at him.] First you tell me you've been to hell, conversed with the devil, and have come back, now that I am on a very large turtle. I may be uneducated, but I am not stupid, m'sieur. [She's not falling for it. Nope.]

[bacondivination]

No one ever believes me when I tell the truth. It's almost a curse.

[ Agh, why is he so bad at dealing with girls in this form? So, so bad. ]

My lies are more clever than that, you know.

[jondrette]

Are they? [She tilts her head, smirking.] I believe mine are better.

[bacondivination]

I'm the God of Mischief and Lies. Honest.

[jondrette]

And I am the Queen of the drink and the streets.

Come! You insult my intelligence!

[bacondivination]

You're my kind of royalty.

[ He grins and ducks his head. ]

Fine, you win, but that wasn't so bad, was it? It was fun all around.

[jondrette]

[She laughs.] I am no true royalty. But I will take the title.

No, it was not. What is your name, m'sieur?

[bacondivination]

I'm Loki. Hey, since I'm not allowed to be a god today, can I be the prince of mischief, then? I think I've earned that one.

[jondrette]

Very well, Prince Loki.

My name is Éponine.

[bacondivination]

Thanks, Queen Éponine. I have yet to be here long, but I think you will like this realm. Quite a few seem to.

Any place with a good breakfast café can't be awful. And there is one, in the Earth Sector. I've checked it out extensively already.

[jondrette]

You are most welcome. [She raises her eyebrows at him expectantly.] Do they? I hope I shall like it, too. Already I have money, which is something I have not had to call my own in so long!

What sorts of things do they have? I should like to eat everything I can here, if it does not cost much.

[bacondivination]

They have lots of pastries-- though not like from a pâtisserie, but I don't think they've imported any really good professional pastry chefs from Earth yet.

[ He manages to smother his grin briefly, and make his voice very grave to add: ] It's a horrible oversight. Someone should talk to management.

[jondrette]

We shall have to go! [She declares happily.] We used to have such wonderful pastries in Montfermeil! [But then everything changed when Jean Valjean attacked.]

The management? Do you mean the Emperor? [The Emperor who was in fact a lady and not Napoleon.] I shall not complain about any food, you have my word, Loki.

[bacondivination]

I'm not a fan of recognizing Emperors that inconvenience me. "Management" will suffice.

[ He gives her a sharp, wolfish grin. ]

We'll certainly have to team up sometime. No pastries will survive our onslaught.

[jondrette]

That is not the way the world works, Loki, do not be silly. One has to recognize even those that inconvenience them. [Unless the person happens to be below you. Then Eponine was looked over one too many times.

Ooh, that grin. She likes it very much.] No, they shall not. We shall eat until we cannot move!