Eddie was late to a Hellfire Club meeting. Usually that was the sort of thing he absolutely couldn't abide, and he was leading by a pretty crappy example, but…he was distracted. By the new chick. Very distracted. He knew who she was the second he saw her, and then he knew he had to know her. Okay, she was hot - that was just a fact. He could see it from the driver's seat of his van as he watched her walk down the sidewalk across the street, and he'd probably have been able to see it from the moon for that matter, too.
Dressed like it was summer despite the fact that it was pretty much October already, she strode down the sidewalk at a pace that the most pissed off New Yorker would envy in a plain black sleeveless dress, a pair of tights that were more holes than fabric (or whatever the hell it was tights were made from), and a pair of great clunky boots that added a good five inches to her height and probably weighed more than the both of them combined. She had a battered plastic art portfolio tucked beneath her left arm - a heavily tatted arm, no less - and it was hard to tell in the dim amber glow of the street lights dotted few and far between, but her hair was either a very, very light blonde…or she'd dyed it silver. Silver. Like a goddamn X-Men character. Oh, he could see why the good people of Hawkins didn't like her. It only made Eddie smile more.
His smile was no match for the one on her face, though, her lips stretched wide as she beamed down at the pavement below her while she walked, gaining a certain sort of pep in her step. Good day, he guessed. It was obvious that she didn't think anybody could see her. Usually that would be a pretty fair assumption, and it had him feeling like a bit of a creeper, watching her as he was as she walked by. But he was just curious - there was no harm in curiosity.
That very valid fact was dampened a little when she looked up, her eyes met his, and for a split second Eddie felt like he'd been caught doing something weird. Well, that was nothing new as far as people here and their benchmark for weirdness went, but something weird by his standards, which was different. The grin froze on her face, then it turned bashful, her stride losing a fair bit of its bounciness and he got the sense that he wasn't the only one who felt weirdly caught out. Not wanting to be the cause for that smile vanishing, Eddie lifted his hand from where it rested atop the driver's side window of his van in a sort of half-assed wave, his smile simmering down into a smirk.
Countering with a nod, the new girl smiled back and then quickly looked away, her lips pursed in embarrassment. She kept her head down until she'd walked all the way by and was completely out of sight - which was probably a good thing, considering if she'd looked up she'd have found him staring like an idiot. Or a creep. A freak he might've been, but a creep? Nah, that was beneath him. But shit, she was adorable.
He spent the drive musing over the fact that there was actually somebody interesting in Hawkins - somebody who wasn't some lost little kid who he'd have to usher into the club. That was good, that was heartwarming, that had him feeling like some sort of Robin Hood for the outcasts, but that was very different from this. Suddenly Hawkins' small size didn't feel like such a curse, because there was no way he wouldn't see her again. Now, he wasn't some sort of Disney princess (although wasn't that a hell of a mental image?) - he wasn't here sighing, singing, and planning his wedding to the chick after one smile, he was just intrigued. That was all. He wanted to at least speak to her. A conversation would get the curiosity out of his system.
When he got to the Hellfire Club meeting, he found them sitting at the table, poring over a paper.
"Don't tell me you started without me," he greeted.
"How could we? You're the DM," Jeff said.
"And we could take this moment to point out your zero tolerance policy for lateness," Mike added.
"Yeah, yeah, mea culpa, Wheeler. Had some things to take care of - but I'm nothing if not fair, so you've all earned yourselves no more than one free pass in the future. Good? What's this?"
A painting sat in the middle of the table. A damn good one, too, even at a glance - and it wasn't unusual for members to bring in sketches, but this was more than that, and it didn't ring true for the campaign they were on.
"This is what I've been showing everyone," Dustin said, lifting up the painting and handing it to him "Lothlórien."
Eddie's eyebrows shot up as he looked it over - it was good. Elven homes - telain - nestled high up in mallorn trees, every carved detail, every leaf on every tree painstakingly detailed. Even more impressive was the lighting. The scene took place at night, with each little treehouse lit up with ethereal white light from within, emanating outwards into the dark, hitting the leaves and the branches outside just right that it could've been a damn photograph.
"Holy shit," Eddie blinked.
"That's what I said!" Dustin replied.
"This from your friend? The one in California? Byers - right?" he asked.
Will Byers was something of a local legend, but his friends perpetuated that legend for very different reasons than Hawkins in general did, constantly bemoaning all of the artwork the Hellfire Club was missing out on because of his absence, and how much he'd love the campaigns.
"No - not Will. The new girl! She just moved here from England," he lended an over-the-top English accent to the latter part of his explanation, grinning "I got it from her for a few bucks."
"She sold it to you?"
"No, I robbed her house and left a couple dollars as reparations - yes I bought it from her, she was selling a bunch of 'em out by the library. She promised to bring more next time, the real stuff."
"The real stuff? What, like drugs?" Gareth asked.
Eddie smiled. Maybe he'd make his introduction with a turf war.
"No - they don't do that shit in England," Dustin replied.
"Tell that to the Sex Pistols," Gareth shot back.
"And Zeppelin. The Stones, Sabbath, Maiden, Pink Floyd, The Clash…shit, even The Beatles. Especially The Beatles, if Sgt. Pepper is anything to go by," Eddie murmured distractedly "C'mon, Henderson, brush up."
In the corner, painted in thin white brushstrokes were two initials - F. H., along with a '85.
"Sure, I'll go get myself a copy of the Drugcyclopedia Britannica as soon as I can - but look. All I'm saying is, if somebody cares enough about Middle-earth to spend hours on something like this, they've gotta be a good fit for the club."
"How long's she here for?" Eddie asked - and even convinced himself that he was asking purely out of professional DM curiosity and nothing else "Don't see the point in bringing someone in for all of a month."
"She's studying abroad - here in Hawkins. Here for the whole school year."
"Since when did Hawkins ever count as abroad?" Mike muttered.
"Curses are good for tourism," Jeff said mildly.
"It'd appear so," Eddie said, finally handing the painting back to Dustin "Looks like we've got a field trip in our future, boys. But until then, we've got more important matters to attend to. Gentlemen - who's ready to explore a lost underground city?"