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“Up where they walk, up where they run, up where they stay all day in the sun –”
Nora eases the door open, wrinkling her nose; she hadn’t known anyone was in here. She sees that it's just Jessica, though, and of course that shouldn’t be so much of a surprise (well, there are only so many others down here). The younger girl is playing with her hair and singing into the mirror wistfully, so Nora stops at the entrance and waits complacently for her to finish.
Or to notice that she’s being watched, which is what happens.
“Oh!” Jessica exclaims, dropping her hairbrush with a start and trying to keep her voice even like she didn't just get snuck up on and caught singing songs from a kids' movie by the only vampire here who's more stranger than acquaintance to her. “Hey, Nora, I didn’t see you come in.”
“I didn’t mean to disturb,” Nora says. “I just heard sounds from in here, and wondered –”
“Who it was, ‘cause we don’t need to use the bathroom?” Jessica assumes. “That’s why I like ‘em. No – well, less – chance of bein’ interrupted when I wanna be alone.”
“I can –”
“Nah,” Jessica shrugs, flashing a bright smile. “I stopped thinking serious thoughts like an hour ago. I’m just fuckin’ around.”
Nora nods. And now it gets awkward. “You sounded very nice, regardless,” she attempts. “What were you singing?”
“’Part of Your World,’” Jessica says - it is, after all, something she regards as common knowledge. When Nora doesn’t react, she adds, “From The Little Mermaid?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know it,” Nora frowns politely.
“Oh, okay,” Jessica says hesitantly. “Every morning just the same since the morning that we came to this poor provincial town…? Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me…? I know you, I danced with you once upon a dream…?”
“No,” Nora says again, her tone apologizing for her bewildered expression. “Were those more mermaid songs?”
Before she registers it, Jessica has grabbed her hand and pulled her into the other room where Eric sits, doing who knows what.
“Eric, did you know your sister’s never seen a Disney movie?”
Eric laces his hands under his chin. “It wouldn’t surprise me,” he says. He shifts his gaze to Nora, who still looks genuinely perplexed. "Min söta, is this true?”
“I’ve had other things to worry about in the last hundred years,” Nora mutters defensively. “I’ve seen movies, of course, but—”
“There’s a DVD player down here, right?” Jessica interrupts.
“Yes, and I keep the full collection of princess movies around just in case,” Eric deadpans.
“This isn’t worth going out for,” Nora cautions, just in case Jessica gets any ideas.
Jessica, of course, did get those ideas, and now makes a face. “But do y’all have a projector?” she presses. “One that can go to the computer?”
She asks that of Eric, it being his place and all, but he just shrugs and defers to Nora (she has, after all, always been more of a techie than him). “You could set it up with the right equipment?”
Nora rolls her eyes. “Of course, but –”
“You do that, I’ll find a torrent or something,” Jessica chirps.
“I’d think we have more important things to do than watch cartoons,” Nora says.
“Yeah, maybe,” Jessica shrugs. “But which of ‘em can we really do tonight?”
So that’s how, after some hurried typing on Jessica’s part, some grumbling and wire-crossing on Nora’s part, and some nonchalance and smirking on Eric’s part, the three vampires find themselves spread out in the sitting area of Eric’s place. Jessica is curled up in an armchair, getting nostalgic about popcorn; Eric has his feet on the ottoman and Nora has hers in Eric’s lap.
“I’ve got it narrowed down to The Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast,” Jessica announces. “At least for starters.”
“It’s your decision to make,” Nora says wanly.
“Which’s gonna be weirder for her, singing fish or singing utensils?” Jessica asks Eric.
He, of course, just keeps smirking, particularly when he sees how horrified Nora looks. As appeasement, he starts to rub her feet, at the same time telling Jessica, “Clearly either will have their problems.”
“Does it help if the utensils are really people under a curse?” Jessica asks.
“The other one,” Eric says immediately.
“Oh, of course, yeah,” Jessica shakes her head. “But the other one has curses too.” She pulls a face, apologetic. “A lot of these do.”
“Just get on with it, then,” Eric mutters. “I’ll manage.”
“If you’re sure,” Jessica says hesitantly. “Ariel was always my favorite one of the princesses when I was a kid. ‘Course, my dad hated the whole movie, said it was some sorta metaphor for losing your virtue, but he hated everything fun.”
As she finishes fussing with the computer, Nora leans to whisper (even though Jessica can hear it), “When was she turned, anyway?”
“2008,” Eric replies.
“My,” Nora murmurs. “I knew she was young, but I didn’t realize she was that young.”
“Remind me to tell you that story, too,” Eric chuckles.
“Got it!” Jessica exclaims, setting the laptop down and interrupting their attemptedly-private conversation.
“It’s not too late to refuse,” Eric says.
“How bad can it be?” Nora asks weakly.
She’s polite. She can sit and look like she’s interested - that's a talent of hers - and she can even try to be interested genuinely. But there’s only so much that she bargained for. When Ariel starts questioning her seagull friend about the purpose of a fork, she can’t contain herself anymore.
“Why on Earth does she trust an obnoxious talking bird to tell her about humans?” she asks.
Jessica reaches to pause the film. “Well, he can fly up over their boats and towns and watch them,” she explains.
“Clearly, these mermaids are similar enough to have contrived of ways to build structures similar to ones that humans have, like their castle,” Nora presses. “Not to mention the fact that they’ve established a monarchy. But no, we’re still expected to believe that this seagull knows more than they ever could.”
Jessica looks dismayed; Eric just chuckles. “That’s your problem with it, lillasyster? Never mind that birds can’t talk and mermaids don’t exist.”
“Neither did we for thousands of years,” Nora replies coolly. “I’m willing to try to accept the basic premise.”
Eric nods at Jessica to turn the movie back on, simultaneously nudging Nora around to work on her shoulders. (No one else, not even Sookie or Pam, has ever gotten a proper backrub from him.)
Nora manages to restrain herself for a while; the music isn’t exactly to her taste (that’s more classical, occasionally veering into obscure independent artists she’s found in clubs while playing hooky or undercover) but she understands that it’s decent, for what it is. Some of it is even - perish the thought - rather catchy.
The next interruption is, surprisingly and also not surprisingly, Eric’s. Against her friends’ warnings, Ariel has followed the heterochromic eels to Ursula’s cave.
“Is she an idiot?” he exclaims, dropping his hands from Nora’s shoulders. “Every piece of conventional wisdom she has should be telling her not to trust the purple octopus witch. Better yet, don’t trust any witches.”
Nora rolls her eyes. “Don’t generalize, brother. You’ve got your reasons, which I respect and agree with, there's no good can come of necromancers, but I’ve known a perfectly lovely ordinary witch or two in the past. Not all of them are heinous.”
“Ursula is,” Jessica interjects.
“I know that,” Nora shrugs. “Every step Ariel takes on her new legs will feel like she’s walking on knives.”
“Huh?” Jessica just makes a face. “That never happens.”
“Oh,” Nora says dramatically. “I keep forgetting that in addition to abandoning logic, these modern adaptations have been sterilized to the point of near-disrespect.”
Jessica shakes her head. “Just try to go with it,” she mutters.
Of course, Nora pouts at this; going with it is, after all, the source of many of her current problems. She squirms, ever so slightly whining, and Eric takes the hint. Almost daring Jessica to say anything about it, he pulls Nora’s shirt over her head before continuing the massage.
This keeps both of them satisfied for a while; Nora offers idle thoughts (“where is he supposed to be the prince of?” and “do they ever explain why the crab is Jamaican?” among them) and Eric grumbles when Jessica finally gives in to an impulse she's been fighting the whole time and starts to sing along, but it’s fairly tame.
Until Ursula assumes her human disguise.
“I understand that she’s the antagonist, but does her evil plan need to be so convoluted?” Nora exclaims, at the same time that Eric mutters, “This prince is too easily swayed by silly things.”
They’ve aimed their complaints at the screen, but after a moment, they look back at each other, somewhat guiltily, and just start pouting (more). Eric pulls Nora against him, his arms around her shoulders and waist, and they both prop their feet up. It’s all Jessica can do not to giggle.
By the film’s end, Nora’s head is lolling against Eric’s chest; when the credits roll, she sounds almost half-hearted when she says, “She’s supposed to be seafoam by now.”
“Yeah, but now she lives happily ever after instead,” Jessica grins. “Happy endings are the things for kids nowadays.”
“Awfully misleading,” Nora mutters.
Jessica shrugs, moving to mess with the computer again. “Another one?” she chirps, oblivious.
“Oh, look, almost sunrise,” Eric exclaims, pulling Nora up and out of there before there can be protests.
“Well, I tried,” Jessica says to nobody in particular.