Bishop/Marina --> Demi/Marina (just arriving)
Demi gave a small nod of understanding. “I don’t think you’ll ever have to worry about pulling rank on Noa,” she commented. “But some of the other old ladies, they’ll push the boundaries of rank, I mean they don’t call this place a Cat house for no reason.” Growing up the way she had, Demi had seen her fair share of women who tried to get under the other person’s skin or tried to push the boundaries of the internal hierarchy. “Especially with you being a newer face to camp, some might even question your motives.” Hadn’t Demi done that very thing at one point? Before she knew that Marina loved Vic and didn’t give a damn about rising up the social ladder in the park.
“Duly noted,” Marina said. The curling iron beeped, indicating that it was hot, and after sectioning out the first piece of hair, Marina wrapped it around the iron, then waited for the curl to take. “At least it’s a good excuse to have a party,” she added, giving Demi a light shrug.
“Better reason than half the ones they choose to throw a party for,” Demi replied with a bright smile. “Though I have to admit I’ve never understood half the traditions they created for a Dog Park wedding.” And to be fair she had never given them much thought. Even when she had had whatever it was that she’d had with Rodeo, she knew damn well that marriage was never something he would venture into -- and at the time Demi hadn’t wanted that either.
“Well seeing as I think me and Vic are the only Jews to do this wedding thing here, we had to add a few more of our own,” Marina said, releasing her first curl and working on the next. “Normally he would smash a glass, but we figured that would be kind of hard while we’re bedridden, so he’s going to shoot it instead,” she grinned. He’d been practicing shooting with his off hand, so she hoped it went well.
“At least your additions to the traditions make sense,” Demi remarked with a small laugh. Sometimes she had to wonder if some of the ‘traditions’ created for a Dog Park wedding had simply been done because they could and for no other underlying reason. “Shooting it seems appropriate given the parties involved and the venue,” she commented while beginning to lay out the contents of Marina’s cosmetics bag on the makeshift vanity nearby. “What does the whole glass thing symbolize anyway?” Demi paused in her thoughtful arranging of the small compacts and make up brushes to glance at Marina, hoping the other woman wouldn’t find her question insensitive in some way.
“I think our Rabbi mentioned something about how it symbolized the fall of Jerusalem but my mom would tell this sappy story about how before we’re born, two people’s souls are one and when they’re born they’re split in two, and that is what smashing the glass means,” Marina explained as she released another curl.
“I always thought it was weird because everyone celebrates at that point but why would people be happy about their soul being split? But I guess it’s supposed to be some circle of life bullshit, where you went through all that time apart and only after that did you become the person who could rejoin with the other half of your soul?” It came out as more of a question, and after another moment she shrugged. Marina had never been deeply religious, not like her mother, but it was how she was raised and she didn’t know any other way. She couldn’t stop being Jewish anymore than she could forget how to speak Russian.
“Can you do the back?” She asked abruptly, holding out the curling iron.