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@deadly-vu-deetz-blog
deadly-vu-deetz started following you
âLyds! Long time no scream. Howâs things on the surface, Babes?â
Lydia had been pulling her hair into it's usual teased high ponytail when he had suddenly appeared and the abrupt entrance had startled her enough to release her grip, her wild ebony hair now resting back on her shoulders. She leaned away from her vanity with a look of surprise, caught off guard by the poltergeist's odd greeting. Her brows furrowed as her espresso brown eyes stared wearily at him. Long time no scream? What was he going on about? He had just talked to her no less than an hour ago and now here he was again, greeting her like they hadn't seen each other in years. Had he hit his head or something while she had taken her morning shower and gotten dressed? She shuddered at the thought him possibly having gone through another amensia episode. She didn't want to have to call Dr. Void again. "Beej, are you feeling okay?" she asked, eyebrow cocked at his abnormal behavior. Then again, when wasn't he acting abnormally?
((Birthday Massacre reminds me of them slightly too! Especially the songs "To Die For" and "Goodnight" for some absurd reason.))
((I agree with you on the "To Die For" song as well! I don't know why, but it fits well them in certain ways. Their newest single "In The Dark" also reminds me of them for some reason.))
Never Wanted To Dance - The Birthday Massacre Remix w/ Guest Vocals By Chibi
((Okay, don't ask me why or how, but this remix reminds me of B and Lyds to a certain degree. Especially Chibi's vocals... I always think of cartoon!verse Lydia when I listen to The Birthday Massacre XD))
âSee? Deadpool and I are BROS.â
((from THIS awesome video here! I wish I could make better gifs⊠sorry!))
((*FLAILS*))
Real Summer
Letting Lydia gather her things and complete the journey over to his side, Beetlejuice glided backwards from the mirror before shooting through his house like a bullet from a gun, dashing instantly to the front door ready to welcome her inside with open arms. He felt the anticipated pull of his curse - though it was reversed this time and more like a gentle tug on the invisible cord that connected them, a signal to be towed through. It was akin to feeling a pull on a fishing line and then reeling that sucker in. Heâd caught her and, god damn, he had her all to himself. Â Â
In an almost out-of-character act of chivalry, Beetlejuice threw the Roadhouseâs front door open wide, having even juiced himself into a theatrical butlerâs uniform in his excitement. Now Lydia was staggering precariously across the strip of highway to get to the winding path that led to his ramshackle bump-on-a-road of a home. He was glad to note that he didnât feel self-conscious about it today. Why? Because it was his, and - for this month - it would be hers, too. It was something he could share with her that he hadnât had to con out of someoneâs pocket or magic up out of nowhere, and for once in his afterlife he was suddenly proud of having earned something. If youâd have asked him two, three, four years ago, Beetlejuice would never have been able to imagine himself in this situation. He never would have expected Lydia, even as his best friend, to accept him so completely on a level that she could put up with him in such close quarters for so long, not to mention willingly. And at her request.Â
Watching her struggle, he began to silently wonder over the amount of luggage sheâd felt necessary to pack, but didnât worry over it too long aside from the fact that he knew sheâd struggle to come in without some help. As she approached, Beetlejuice levied a grin, eyebrows wiggling mischievously. At his silent bidding her luggage suddenly began to levitate free from her arms, floating towards the Roadhouse and ridding her of its burden as it went. Unfortunately for the feline, Percy began levitating on after them too in his carrier, and the cat let out a yowl in discomfort. He even hissed at Beetlejuice as he passed, whilst the ghost âobliviouslyâ continued beckoning Lydia inside.
Wanting to make this occasion one sheâd never forget, Beetlejuice pointed a red-tipped finger directly up at the neon, haphazardly erected signs bolted to the exterior of his home. Popping into existence, smack-bang between âB Jâsâ and âRoADHOuSEâ, now appeared a new sign that was displayed in the same quirky font, and just to the right of his name. The violet words were mounted on a pale, tasteful pink board, which was crisscrossed with a cobweb pattern. â& LYDSâsâ.  B Jâs and Lydsâ Roadhouse. It illuminated spectacularly, for all to see. âTa daaaa~!â He cried, hoping it was a suitable welcoming present.Â
Then, what was supposed to be his rather tongue-in-cheek, sophisticated persona began to kick in, though was nevertheless soon overridden by his impish enthusiasm. âWelcome to yer summer retreat.â Beetlejuice snorted with a grand sweep of his arms. âAfter you, ba-a-abes,â Keen for her to settle in straight away, he couldnât suppress the desire to want to get all the âhard workâ out of the way first. âWhat will it be, Lyds? Want me to juice ya yer own suite, shweetheart?â He offered.
His welcoming gift hadnât failed at instilling itâs intended effect. Lydia was too overwhelmed at that moment to respond immediately to his question on her lodging situation, mouth curved into gleeful smile as she stared upward at the neon sign. Suddenly curious to see what else he had accomplished, she took a few steps inside and looked around.
The first thing Lydia noticed upon entering the roadhouse was how moderately clean it was inside, a vast contrast compared to her last visit. No empty or molded food containers lying about on the coffin table. No dust bunnies hopping along the floorboards. He had even cleared out most of the ancient ash pile that had resided in the chimney, lit the candles on the mantel, and possibly dusted the scales on the alligator rug. The Ghost With The Most had done a marginal cleaning job... and he had done it without being coerced or bribed. I was expecting him to do some cleaning, but hadn't expected this. She looked back at him, starting to come out of her state of bewilderment. He was still standing in the doorway donning his butler uniform, an eager look on his face as he awaited her command. His offer of 'juicing her up a room was tempting and she almost wavered on her initial intention to ask, but after seeing the impressive job he had done with the sign and the house, she thought against it. This was their summer and if she was going to be here for the next month, she didn't want him overworking himself for her sake. "While a suite sounds sweet, I think I'll be okay, Beej," she finally replied, rejoining him by the open doors. "With how killer this place looks inside and your addition to the sign outside, you've already outdone yourself. Honestly, I'd be happy just having a cot set up in the corner of your room... If that's okay with you, of course."
((Work is over... and I don't want to go home! I used the last hour to rewrite my reply (I derped again by accidently not saving the first one) and Lydia!Muse is in full effect at the moment. Hopefully she is willing to work with me once I arrive home. Luckily, I have a feeling she will!))
by ~Gandalfia
(( *FLAILS* ))
(*ăĐă*)
Deadly Fashion
ask-harvs started following you
Lydia barely batted an eye at the man standing before her. He wasnât the first burn victim she had seen after all. The Neitherworld was full of all sorts of denizens who had far more gruesome injuries. She did however like his sense of style, an impressed look crossing her face as she admired his split-suit. âDeadly-vu! I really like your outfit, MrâŠ?â
The burned man expressed confusion on his face. People tended to freak out over the face. Instead, she was admiring the suit. He took an odd coin out of his jacket pocket and gave it a flip. He looked at the outcome. âDent. Harvey Dent,â he said.
âNice to meet you. My name is Lydia,â she replied, watching as he fiddled with the strange coin he had taken out of his pocket. A part of her was tempted to ask for a photograph so she could use it as a fashion reference later on, but judging by his shortness of his answer and the nature of his appearance, she thought better against it.
It wasnât often that someone who looked this strange came out to this part of Connecticut. If they did, you could guarantee they were either yuppies visiting from New York or, in Lydiaâs case, spirits who had escaped from the Neitherworld.
Come to think of it⊠was he even from the Neitherworld? And if so, was there the possibility he might know Beetlejuice? They did, after-all, have eerily similar fashion tastes.
It hadnât occurred to her before whether the man standing in front of her might be actually alive or one of the ghosts that would occasionally pass through town; she had been much too distracted earlier wishing she had a piece of paper so she could draw out a design of his outfit. However, now that she was focused once more, she was keen on finding out. âSo, Mr. Dent⊠What brings you to Peaceful Pines?â the pale-skinned teenager asked in a polite tone.
SureâŠit would have been a lot easier to simply ask if he was dead or not, but Lydia knew better than to ask a 3rd-degree burn victim such a question.
Harvey flipped his coin again in order to answer. After looking at the result for a moment, he said in a far-different voice, âBusiness. None of which belongs to you.â
And yet, something about this girl was interesting. It may have been her peculiar sense of fashion with that spider-web poncho, or it could have been her cheerful demeanor in spite of her appearance. Granted, this is normal in Gotham, but here in Connecticut? Somethingâs up. He flipped the coin again. This time, it told him to investigate.
You know,â he started in his normal voice, âyouâre rather theatrical for a citizen of this town. You donât do any of that witchcraft stuff, do you?â His experiences in Jump City has told him to be wary of the witches.
... What was that all about?
The voice he had answered in had thrown Lydia a curve. It was nothing like the one that had been used before. Completely foreign. Abrasive. Almost... menacing. Is this guy possessed or something? If is he possessed, wouldn't he have to be alive? Or is there some weird Neitherworldian version of demonic possession? (I wouldn't be surprised if there was) UGH!.... BEEEEJ She was starting to wish that Beetlejuice had accompanied her on this photography walk just so she could have some idea on what exactly this man was about. Unfortunately for her, the freelance bio-exorcist was much too preoccupied... It was Monster Truck Day on the NeitherNetwork. By now he had probably finished his first pack of Bugweiser and was moving onto the next. Still... She could feel her tongue wanting to form the "B" word, but kept her lips pursed. You know better, Lydia! The last thing she needed was to summon an inebriated spirit... especially after being asked if she was a practitioner of witchcraft. She held in a sigh. Looks like I'm on my own for this one. "No, no," she replied with a courteous smile, a slip of somewhat nervous laughter leaking out. "I may dress like one, I but I can guarantee you that I am not into any sort of witchcraft. Though I have met some before... they tried to steal my cat on Halloween a few years ago"
The Excessively Detailed Headcanon Tumblr Meme: FINISHED!
((Fiiinally got around to finishing it! Off to go write replies!))
What does their bedroom look like?
Do they have any daily rituals? She has a few mundane rituals such as her morning shower, her bike ride to school, as well as more entertaining ones such as reading every night or working in the dark room after dinner. However, Lydia's most valued daily ritual is making sure makes time to talk and hang out with Beetlejuice every morning.
Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often? Lydia isn't really the athletic type and doesn't like strenuous activity but she does enjoy riding her bike and taking long walks every Sunday afternoon. She usually chooses locations such as the park, the old town cemetery, or the river bank along the outskirts of town and makes sure to bring her camera along to take pictures during her walk.
What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy? She would probably either go to the grocery store and pick up something like a ready-made salad or simply head over to BJ's to see if he wanted to go out to eat somewhere.
Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)? Lydia is an overall tidy and well-groomed individual. She takes showers and washes her hair on a daily basis; brushes her teeth every morning and evening; and regularly cleans both her bedroom and dark room to make sure everything is organized.
Eating habits and a sample of his/her daily menu Anything that wasn't cooked by Delia, which usually means salad when she eats at home. Lydia doesn't enjoy the idea of consuming meat, especially seafood since her stepmother cooks it on a regular basis, so she tends to stick to vegetables, fruits, and some milk products such as cheese, yogurt, and ice cream. But just because her diet is largely healthy doesn't mean she will pig out on a slice of a pizza or a bowl of candy with Beetlejuice. A typical daily menu at home for Lydia includes oatmeal or granola with dried fruit for breakfast, either peanut butter, apple, and banana or grilled cheese sandwich for lunch; and a bowl of salad for dinner. Her favorite dessert is a dish of vanilla ice cream with fruit.
Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time? Depending on her schedule, if Lydia does have the time, she will feel no remorse whatsoever for wasting it. She will almost always go hang out with Beetlejuice in the Neitherworld when she has free time to herself.
Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging? Her favorite indulgence is horror movie marathons with Beej, particularly ones with silent, classic, and B-movies. She feels no shame in a little self-indulgence every now and then.
Makeup? Before moving to Conneticut, Lydia didn't really bother with wearing makeup as she was much too focused with expressing her displeasure with life through her very elaborate wardrobe. While she naturally has both dark-circles around her eyes and a pale complexion, Lydia has started to enjoy wearing a slight bit of dark lipstick to mimic the look of the actresses she sees in her favorite silent horror films.
Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such? Though Lydia won't fully admit it, she has abandonment and trust issues stemming from both her lonely childhood and her parent's divorce, which makes it hard for her let others in as well as let them go. She has largely dealt with them since befriending Beetlejuice but still has a very hard time with the topic of the Maitlands and, most of all, her biological mother.
Intellectual pursuits? Among photography and filmography/videography, Lydia also enjoys studying fashion design, and the occult.
Favorite book genre? Gothic fiction, especially horror. Her favorite authors include Percy and Mary Shelley, Oscar Wilde, the Brontë Sisters, Bram Stoker, Robert Louis Stevenson, John Keats, and her favorite, Edgar Allan Poe.
Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general? Lydia would be rated as a 1 on the Kinsey scale, preferring males over females. She tries to retain an open-mind when meeting new people and evaluates people based on how they treat others, not their beliefs, race, or sexual preferences.
Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.) Lydia inherited her mother's ÎČ-Thalassemias minor, which accounts for her abnormal pallor, lack of muscle strength, difficulty in achieving REM sleep, and ability to get easily fatigued when doing physical labor or in hot weather. Lydia also has her father's tendency to burn easily when exposed to the sun for too long.
Biggest and smallest short term goal? Biggest: Maintain good grades at school in order to graduate. Smallest: Pick up camera featured in newest issue of Popular Photography
Biggest and smallest long term goal? Biggest: Maintaining contact with her friends after school. Smallest: Move out of state
Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress? Anything comfortable, stylish, and black. She prefers long-sleeved tunics in black or other dark shades, black leggings or skinny jeans, and simple black ballet flats.
Favorite beverage?
What do they think about before falling asleep at night?
Aside from the obvious, she also thinks about family, school, and ideas for art projects.
Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them? Please refer to the answer given on question 14. As for interesting stories, Lydia has been a lifelong lover of wide brim hats due to her skin's sensitive nature. She received her first hat at the age of four when her family was visiting Chicago during the great Heat Wave of 1980 and started collecting them ever since.
Turn-ons? Turn-offs? Lydia finds personal confidence, a goofball sense of humor, and an easy-going attitude as attractive traits. She doesn't enjoy narcissistic or snobby attitudes, isn't impressed by displays of wealth or power, and hates when people try to change her.
Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen? She would probably sketch out a few dress designs, draw some animals, insects, or tombstones, and, if she was in a talkative mood, a little caricature of Beej.
How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life? She is pretty well-organized, making sure to clean her bedroom and dark room everyday so she does not misplace anything.
Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all? Photography, Filmography, and Videography. If it involves taking pictures or recording film footage, Lydia is a natural.
How do they see themselves 5 years from today? At this moment she is unsure about her career path but whatever happens and wherever life takes her, Lydia intends to make sure she remains in contact with Beetlejuice.
Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things donât workout? Lydia is currently debating whether to pursue a career in photojournalism, fashion design, or film production after she graduates. If her studies don't work out she plans on working out of home as a freelance photographer.
What is their biggest regret? Blaming Delia for her parents' divorce when it was actually her own mother who ruined the marriage.Â
Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy? Beej may have started out as an enemy to Lydia but won her trust and confidence after exposing the Neitherworld's efforts to cover up the incident involving the Maitlands. Since then two of them have been best friends. Enemy-wise, Lydia has two: - Clare Brewster. Lydia sees her as a cruel, manipulative, and superficial individual who thinks nothing of others. - Her biological mother. Lydia feels betrayed and hurt by her mother's extra-martial affair and desertion.
What would his/her reaction be to a sudden extrapersonal disaster (e.g. The house is on fire! What do they do?)? In situations such as these, Lydia tries to remain reasonably calm and do what she must to either help remedy the problem or get through it. (e.g. If the house was on fire, Lydia would be the one calling the fire department while her father was screaming in the background and Delia was gathering any sculptures she could carry)
What would his/her reaction be to a sudden intrapersonal disaster (e.g. close family member suddenly dies)? In an event such as this, Lydia would either react by withdrawing from the world around her.
Most prized possession? Lydia has two: the spider-silk poncho and the wedding band (which she now wears as an eternal friendship ring) Beetlejuice gave to her.
Thoughts on material possessions in general? Growing up surrounded by the comforts of material possessions and finding no satisfaction in it, Lydia sees them as unimportant. She would much rather have the company of friends and family than be surrounded by riches.
Concept of home and family? Before moving to Connecticut, Lydia held little regard toward the concept of family. It wasn't until meeting the Maitlands and bonding with her parents after the events of the Incident that she realized how important her family was to her. She also considers Beetlejuice and the gang at the Roadhouse as a part of her family circle.
Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to âTMIâ?) Lydia is introverted when it comes to her inner most feelings and tends to keep any long-term problems that might be bothering her to herself. She keeps most of her most intimate thoughts in her diary, which she hides from everyone.
What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time? While Lydia does enjoy playing video games every now and then, she doesn't really see it as something she would want to waste much time on.
What makes them feel guilty? To a degree she feels guilt when she has to lie to her parents, most of all her father. She also has recently felt bad about not being able to make time for Beej due to her increase in schoolwork.
Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making? Lydia responds analytically when a decision must be made, weighing out her options before taking action. The only times she would possibly respond emotionally is if it involves extremely personal matters.
Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality? Though she is well-organized and makes sure to keep up with her assignments, Lydia is naturally a Type B. She finds relaxation in her artistic endeavors; often reflects on her feelings and surroundings; and doesn't get too wound up when it comes to competing with others (though she will make the occasional exception if someone like Clare is involved).
What recharges them when theyâre feeling drained? A trip to the Neitherworld almost always manages to get Lydia energized since it means being out of Peaceful Pines. Peaceful Pines may be her hometown, but like any small town, it can get boring fast.
Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither? Lydia has neither a superiority nor inferiority complex. She is realistic about her abilities and realizes that there will always be someone out in the world who does better or worse than her.
How misanthropic are they? Not very, but she does show some disdain for humanity on topics such as wildlife, the environment, and the media's portrayal of beauty.
Hobbies? Lydia's hobbies include taking and developing photos, shooting and editing film, reading, sewing, and watching movies (mostly classic horror, though she is starting to branch out to Film Noir and foreign films). She also dabbles in writing poetry and prose, which she keeps to herself by writing in her personal journal.
How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education? Currently, Lydia is in her third year at Miss Shannon's and is two years away from graduating. She views formal education as important but believes that people don't necessarily need institutions to learn and excel at studies they are truly passionate about.
Religion? Lydia is a Spiritualist.
Superstitions or views on the Occult? She is not one to believe in old-wives tales and trivial superstitions, especially concerning black cats, walking under ladders, rabbits feet, and the number thirteen. However, she does believe in certain practices of the Occult, mostly those concerning the spirits of the dead and the afterlife.
Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds? She shares most of her thoughts through words, but when it comes to her inner most musings, Lydia expresses herself through either her artwork or in the contents of her diary.
If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal? Lydia's ideal mate would be someone who shares her interests, treats her with mutual respect, who can make her laugh when she needs it the most, and who is not afraid to be themselves around others.
How do they express love? So far the only category of love Lydia has experienced is the platonic form, which she shows through playful behavior and facetious comments. When she is particularly happy or affectionate she will show it through physical acts such as hugging or hand holding.
If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like? Lydia likes to avoid physical conflict but will fight if she finds it necessary to defend herself or others. She lacks a great deal of physical strength, so she sticks to evading attacks and using her wits to win a fight.
Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not? Dying is the one of the last things she is afraid of, especially since she knows that she has friends on the Other Side.
The Monster Tongue⊠by *OpalLynn
(( It's hella long but... do the whole headcanon thing!! :DD ))
((Well, I better get started...))
Real Summer
As soon as Lydia threw the door to and dashed into the room, Beetlejuiceâs easy smile spread even wider. He leant out of her vanityâs mirror excitedly, and had he not been restricted by his curse he probably should have worried over the possibility of him losing his balance and falling straight out. The excitement was so complete that he even laughed along with her, the mention of Clare not enough to dampen either of their spirits right now. âPfft! Canât imagine Miss Plastic was happy about that one,â He jeered whilst Lydia pulled out her cases from under her bed.Â
Then, at the sight of the engorged bags she was now hefting, Beetlejuice cocked an eyebrow. âLyds,â He chided, though not without some degree of affection. âIf I can juice ya up a whole store, Iâm pretty sure I can juice ya up a whole storeâs worth oâ clothes,â He couldnât help but boast. He failed to mention, though, that even he had limitations. Willing things to move from one location to another and morphing an object into something else was doable enough, but crafting something out of nothing took a lot of effort and a lot of power- something he was always willing to do for her at a drop of a hat; and had done many times in the past. Beetlejuice was never one to admit, however, just how much that drained him. Â
Before he could get another word in, the catâs guttural noises drew his attention. The ghost couldnât help but cackle at Percyâs unenthusiastic reaction, and proceeded to give the animal a cheeky wave with the tips of his fingers. âHi. How ya doinâ, Perce?â He teased, before sticking his tongue out at him while he lay cradled in Lydiaâs arms. As soon as Lydia turned back to face him, Beetlejuiceâs childish expression all together disappeared, a mock-innocent one alighting his face in its stead. He had to make it look like he was playing ball, for her sake.Â
Pleased to find that she was ready to go, bags at her side, he suppressed the urge to clap his hands together.  âJust say the B-words, babes, and letâs blow this joint!â Beetlejuice chuckled, withdrawing a little back to his side. Gesturing over his shoulder with a raised, red-tipped thumb, he flashed her what would have been a dazzling smile had it not been for his unsightly teeth. âI gotta set up where yer gonna sleep. All yer choice where, oâcourse,âÂ
"I'll let you know once I get over. See you in a minute!" Lydia replied while beaming back at his jack o latern grin.
Lydia turned away from the vanity mirror and drew in a deep breath. She knew exactly where she wanted to sleep during her stay... The question was would he be okay with it? It was his personal space after-all and she didn't want to further impose on it if he didn't feel comfortable. He was already being gracious enough to let her and Percy stay for the next month. It was one of the reasons why she had packed so much for this trip instead of having Beetlejuice just simply 'juice her an entire months supply of leggings and tunics. Closing her eyes, she prepared herself for the ritual she had come to adore and anticipate over the past few years. An all too familiar feeling that was akin to electricity seemed to flow through her as she began to form the word upon her lips, the fine hairs on her arms standing on end. "Though I know I should be wary, Still I venture somewhere scary. Ghostly haunting, I turn loose, Beetlejuice... Beetlejuice... Beetlejuice."
Upon the third and final utterance of his name, what little morning sunlight that had been peaking through her windows winked out and a great gust of chilling wind ripped throughout the room, the cold air blasting her cheeks. Lydia could feel her bedroom began to twist and warp. The floorboards beneath her feet buckled and groaned while the walls swelled and shuddered, the wallpaper shedding off like snakeskin to reveal cold stonework underneath. Large beams of wood erupted from the vaulted ceiling above to form a chaotic of criss-cross of rafters, while the posters of her bed jutted upward in at crooked angles. Finally, in a one last great convulsion, what furniture that had remained was sucked out of the room in a great vacuum that originated where her closet had once been, a gnarled Gothic door now forming in its stead. Lydia gently set down Percy's carrier on the spiraled floor and gathered her luggage, ascending the stairway to the distorted door that once was the entrance to her bedroom. She wobbled with the weight that burdened both of her frail arms, but managed well enough. The anticipation that had built up for the last week blocked out most of the discomfort she would have otherwise felt and regardless of the heaviness of both bags, she felt as though she could walk on the tops of clouds. Having reached the top, she paused for a brief moment to catch her breath before bounding back down to retrieve her Percy, holding him in both arms. The gangly black feline shivered with foreboding in his carrier as she walked once more toward the looming doorway, this time opening it. A tangerine sky and crumbling roadway greeted the two of them, the winding pathway to Beetlejuice's Roadhouse in the near distance. Her chest swelled at the sight of the nearby building. For the next month, she would be calling it home. Her stomach fluttered with delight at this revelation. Unable to wait any longer, Lydia pushed her luggage onto the desolate roadway using her foot, her and Percy following shorty afterward as the door snapped shut behind them.
Send me some numbers, and I will tell you:
What does their bedroom look like?
Do they have any daily rituals?
Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?
What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?
Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)
Eating habits and sample daily menu
Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time
Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging
Makeup?
Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?
Intellectual pursuits?
Favorite book genre?
Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?
Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)
Biggest and smallest short term goal?
Biggest and smallest long term goal?
Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress
Favorite beverage?
What do they think about before falling asleep at night?
Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?
Turn-ons? Turn-offs?
Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?
How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?
Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?
How do they see themselves 5 years from today?
Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things donât workout?
What is their biggest regret?
Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?
Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)
Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)
Most prized possession?
Thoughts on material possessions in general?
Concept of home and family?
Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to âTMIâ?)
What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?
What makes them feel guilty?
Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?
Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality?
What recharges them when theyâre feeling drained?
Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?
How misanthropic are they?
Hobbies?
How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?
Religion?
Superstitions or views on the occult?
Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?
If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?
How do they express love?
If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?
Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?
⊠I kinda see this as you anâ that Clare, babes. Or is that jusâ wishful thinkinâ?Â
While I would love to do that, I think I'll stick to my artistic revenge strategy.
The last thing I need is Clare Brewster haunting me for all eternity!
ask-harvs started following you
Lydia barely batted an eye at the man standing before her. He wasnât the first burn victim she had seen after all. The Neitherworld was full of all sorts of denizens who had far more gruesome injuries. She did however like his sense of style, an impressed look crossing her face as she admired his split-suit. âDeadly-vu! I really like your outfit, MrâŠ?â
The burned man expressed confusion on his face. People tended to freak out over the face. Instead, she was admiring the suit. He took an odd coin out of his jacket pocket and gave it a flip. He looked at the outcome. âDent. Harvey Dent,â he said.
"Nice to meet you. My name is Lydia," she replied, watching as he fiddled with the strange coin he had taken out of his pocket. A part of her was tempted to ask for a photograph so she could use it as a fashion reference later on, but judging by his shortness of his answer and the nature of his appearance, she thought better against it.
It wasn't often that someone who looked this strange came out to this part of Connecticut. If they did, you could guarantee they were either yuppies visiting from New York or, in Lydia's case, spirits who had escaped from the Neitherworld.
Come to think of it... was he even from the Neitherworld? And if so, was there the possibility he might know Beetlejuice? They did, after-all, have eerily similar fashion tastes.
It hadn't occurred to her before whether the man standing in front of her might be actually alive or one of the ghosts that would occasionally pass through town; she had been much too distracted earlier wishing she had a piece of paper so she could draw out a design of his outfit. However, now that she was focused once more, she was keen on finding out. "So, Mr. Dent... What brings you to Peaceful Pines?" the pale-skinned teenager asked in a polite tone.
Sure...it would have been a lot easier to simply ask if he was dead or not, but Lydia knew better than to ask a 3rd-degree burn victim such a question.