beverly marsh (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bevmarsh) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} dunwichgame,@ 2024-07-16 21:23:00 |
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RICHIE TOZIER & BEVERLY MARSH
SATURDAY NIGHT | PG; talk of arsonWas it late? Yes. Did it matter? No, because Beverly got off of work late, and Richie was a vampire. Or that might have been a joke someone might make about his sleep schedule in a normal place where vampires weren't actually a thing, anyway.
The point was, they were both up. Richie knew it, and if Beverly didn't, she was going to any second now, because Richie came clomping down the stairs to the basement with a bag of chips in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other -- both of which would be best enjoyed once they stepped out the patio doors to the pool area. "Hey Loser," he greeted, his grin toothy and white even in the semi-dark of the room.
She was often up until four in the morning, which meant she saw Richie the most out of all her roommates. They were often found outside with a couple of cigarettes between them, shooting the shit and puffing them down. Late at night was the best, because it meant that Eddie wouldn't sit there hounding them for their smoking habits. They knew all the warnings, they still didn't care.
It had become a routine these days. Richie came downstairs, Beverly got up, and they walked out to the patio. Didn't matter that it was almost three am.
"Get anything new in at the shop?" she asked as she pulled her own pack from her purse.
“Nah, most the new album drops that are worth it come out in a few weeks,” Richie said with a shrug, slipping out of his sandals to feel the cool of the wood beneath his feet. It was nice, around this time of night after it’d spent most of the day burning under the hot summer sun.
“You figure out your jukebox situation yet?” That thing really had to go. He tapped a smoke out of his pack and squinted up at the moon in the sky. It wouldn’t be full again for another few weeks.
"I think we should do the streaming jukebox. It's small, but mighty, you know?" She tapped her cigarette against the butt of her pack before slipping it between her lips. "You know, and hopefully not cursed."
It should have been the first thing to go, but hindsight blah blah blah. There seemed to be an unspoken rule amongst the town not to play the song. No one had ever had to mention it, and the only time it had been played before was by a Mistake on purpose. Who would have known?
"They install it and you rent it for free. You just give them a percentage of your earnings."
“What if it’s just that song?” Richie asked, nose scrunching in a way that said he was vaguely curious but mostly just joking. He did that plenty, as Bev would surely know. “I love those little jukeboxes. Paying extra in order to get your song played first is a real fuckin’ mood at midnight or later.”
It’d probably make Todash plenty of money, really.
And then, apropos of nothing: “We should burn the wellhouse down.”
Beverly forgot all about the jukebox the second that word came out of Richie's mouth. Why hadn't they thought of that before? They should have just done that the second Beverly found it and got a rush of Derry memories back. She should have tossed her lighter instead of telepathically calling Richie.
She paused immediately, looked at Richie as if he'd just said the smartest thing in the world and then went, "Why the fuck haven't we already done that? Why didn't we do that back home?"
Richie had a feeling that it probably wouldn’t have worked back home. It controlled everything there. But It didn’t seem to here. Not that Richie had seen, and he’d sure as shit been watching.
Instead of saying so though, he just smiled in a rueful and crooked sort of way. “I knew you’d agree,” he said, and that was true, because Beverly and him were usually on a wavelength. “I dunno if Eddie will.”
"Might end up just being you and me." She had the ice cold thought of what Stan did instead of going to Derry again. Would he even want to see that house again, even if it wasn't exactly the same one? None of them did, not really, but to burn it down? Bev was on board. "Smores and cigarettes by burning Wellhouse."
It sounded like a hoot and a half. Or cathartic, at the least.
“Might be,” Richie said, because no he didn’t want to be the one to ask Stan to relive a fear he’d chosen not to before, either. Sure, they were stronger together, the Losers, but sometimes needs must. And this place was different than Derry.
“Smores and cigarettes is the name of my next garage band,” he said mildly, only half a joke even as he took a pull from his own smoke. “Do – so we’re gonna, right?”
"Not tonight, but hell yeah. Maybe after some of this church fire shit dies down." She didn't really want to get all of the Mistakes on the town's shit list. They already had enough to deal with at the moment. Protesting outside of their house would have Bev shitting a brick. She often slept in, and she couldn't imagine protesting caring much about that.
"When though? Do we ask Eddie? Would that piss him off if we just… went and did it?"
“Everything pisses Eddie off,” Richie said, only half kidding. But – he paused, gnawing thoughtfully on one of his knuckles and then he nodded. “I mean. Yeah. We should ask. Or at least announce to the house as a whole before running out the door with the gasoline.”
That was kind of like asking.
“Let’s see what kinda shit is going on next month, pick then?”
"God, hopefully, it's something shitty like those random gifts. At least you could just toss them somewhere and not have to deal with them." Then again, that had been one month. Odds were it would be something even worse. She paused.
Beverly took a long drag on her cigarette, held it, before allowing herself to exhale it in one long plume. Someone was going to have to break the news of what they planned to do, and she was not looking forward to the are you out of your mind from Stan or the lecture from Eddie. They were going to do this with or without them.
"Not it!"
The point was, they were both up. Richie knew it, and if Beverly didn't, she was going to any second now, because Richie came clomping down the stairs to the basement with a bag of chips in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other -- both of which would be best enjoyed once they stepped out the patio doors to the pool area. "Hey Loser," he greeted, his grin toothy and white even in the semi-dark of the room.
She was often up until four in the morning, which meant she saw Richie the most out of all her roommates. They were often found outside with a couple of cigarettes between them, shooting the shit and puffing them down. Late at night was the best, because it meant that Eddie wouldn't sit there hounding them for their smoking habits. They knew all the warnings, they still didn't care.
It had become a routine these days. Richie came downstairs, Beverly got up, and they walked out to the patio. Didn't matter that it was almost three am.
"Get anything new in at the shop?" she asked as she pulled her own pack from her purse.
“Nah, most the new album drops that are worth it come out in a few weeks,” Richie said with a shrug, slipping out of his sandals to feel the cool of the wood beneath his feet. It was nice, around this time of night after it’d spent most of the day burning under the hot summer sun.
“You figure out your jukebox situation yet?” That thing really had to go. He tapped a smoke out of his pack and squinted up at the moon in the sky. It wouldn’t be full again for another few weeks.
"I think we should do the streaming jukebox. It's small, but mighty, you know?" She tapped her cigarette against the butt of her pack before slipping it between her lips. "You know, and hopefully not cursed."
It should have been the first thing to go, but hindsight blah blah blah. There seemed to be an unspoken rule amongst the town not to play the song. No one had ever had to mention it, and the only time it had been played before was by a Mistake on purpose. Who would have known?
"They install it and you rent it for free. You just give them a percentage of your earnings."
“What if it’s just that song?” Richie asked, nose scrunching in a way that said he was vaguely curious but mostly just joking. He did that plenty, as Bev would surely know. “I love those little jukeboxes. Paying extra in order to get your song played first is a real fuckin’ mood at midnight or later.”
It’d probably make Todash plenty of money, really.
And then, apropos of nothing: “We should burn the wellhouse down.”
Beverly forgot all about the jukebox the second that word came out of Richie's mouth. Why hadn't they thought of that before? They should have just done that the second Beverly found it and got a rush of Derry memories back. She should have tossed her lighter instead of telepathically calling Richie.
She paused immediately, looked at Richie as if he'd just said the smartest thing in the world and then went, "Why the fuck haven't we already done that? Why didn't we do that back home?"
Richie had a feeling that it probably wouldn’t have worked back home. It controlled everything there. But It didn’t seem to here. Not that Richie had seen, and he’d sure as shit been watching.
Instead of saying so though, he just smiled in a rueful and crooked sort of way. “I knew you’d agree,” he said, and that was true, because Beverly and him were usually on a wavelength. “I dunno if Eddie will.”
"Might end up just being you and me." She had the ice cold thought of what Stan did instead of going to Derry again. Would he even want to see that house again, even if it wasn't exactly the same one? None of them did, not really, but to burn it down? Bev was on board. "Smores and cigarettes by burning Wellhouse."
It sounded like a hoot and a half. Or cathartic, at the least.
“Might be,” Richie said, because no he didn’t want to be the one to ask Stan to relive a fear he’d chosen not to before, either. Sure, they were stronger together, the Losers, but sometimes needs must. And this place was different than Derry.
“Smores and cigarettes is the name of my next garage band,” he said mildly, only half a joke even as he took a pull from his own smoke. “Do – so we’re gonna, right?”
"Not tonight, but hell yeah. Maybe after some of this church fire shit dies down." She didn't really want to get all of the Mistakes on the town's shit list. They already had enough to deal with at the moment. Protesting outside of their house would have Bev shitting a brick. She often slept in, and she couldn't imagine protesting caring much about that.
"When though? Do we ask Eddie? Would that piss him off if we just… went and did it?"
“Everything pisses Eddie off,” Richie said, only half kidding. But – he paused, gnawing thoughtfully on one of his knuckles and then he nodded. “I mean. Yeah. We should ask. Or at least announce to the house as a whole before running out the door with the gasoline.”
That was kind of like asking.
“Let’s see what kinda shit is going on next month, pick then?”
"God, hopefully, it's something shitty like those random gifts. At least you could just toss them somewhere and not have to deal with them." Then again, that had been one month. Odds were it would be something even worse. She paused.
Beverly took a long drag on her cigarette, held it, before allowing herself to exhale it in one long plume. Someone was going to have to break the news of what they planned to do, and she was not looking forward to the are you out of your mind from Stan or the lecture from Eddie. They were going to do this with or without them.
"Not it!"