Didi had packed for the trip to New York (jeans, boots, tank tops, jackets, all in a color palette ranging from black to black -- really, did you expect anything different?) and sat on her bed by the zipped suitcase, waiting for Jaime to get back from his visit with his family ( Read more... )

Didi had gone a little crazy finding decorations for her wee tiny artificual Christmas tree. There was strung popcorn and tinsel and mermaids and goldfish and red, black and silver balls and even a few cute skeletons. There were poodles and multicolored candy canes and a perfect angel for the top ( Read more... )

Didi had gone to bed besotted with Raven, and woken up very much ... not ( Read more... )

With most of her classes done for the week, Didi was curled up on her bed with some Halloween candy and her knitting project, as They Might Be Giants played on her stereo.

The maroon-and-grey thing she was knitting was a scarf. Definitely a scarf.

It might just turn out to be a scarf with thumbs.

[OOC: Open room post, yep!]

The mortal incarnation of the anthropomorphic personification of life and death itself was propped up with pillows against the headboard of her bed, knitting something gray and maroon striped. She hadn't decided yet if it was going to grow up to be an afghan, or if she'd get bored by the time it was a scarf.

She was thinking, too. About Atropos' ( Read more... )

Didi slept late on Saturday, feeling it was her right as both a teenage girl and as an entity that usually didn't bother with sleep ( Read more... )

You might not think dying would hurt, if you've done it thousands upon thousands of times and seen it billions upon billions. It might seem like it would be as routine as passing through subway turnstiles ( Read more... )

Just had to catch the bandwagon before it leaves town.

Two things are true about Didi. She is a 16-year-old Goth girl from New York whose family died a few months ago in an accident -- and she's the immortal anthropomorphic embodiment of Life and Death itself. Confusing? Not if you're her.

See, in Sandman, Death -- one of the seven Endless, and ( Read more... )

It was not unusual for Didi to go months or even years without seeing her younger brother. They'd passed centuries without much more than the exchange of pleasantries, millennia on no more than an afternoon together. That was, simply, how it was for the Endless ( Read more... )