october catch-all [ota]

[laruetheday]

Who: Clarisse + anyone!
What: October catch-all
When: Throughout the month
Where: Two prompts that are out in town + one for just the house

Content Warnings: Just The Depression™



01 | loneliness kills [ota]

[ At first, Clarisse thinks she's hallucinating. It seems like the natural progression to whatever's been happening to her head since she came to Trench. First the unbearable tense energy, and then the onset of migraines and the whispy white figures she can sometimes catch in the corner of her vision, and now... walking corpses. Sure, makes sense. Except the corpse doesn't go away. It walks steadily behind whoever's approaching her, glassy eyed and silent.

The corpse doesn't seem violent, which is the only thing that keeps her from attacking it, but her entire body tenses up like a cat waiting to pounce, and she's staring at whoever is making their way toward her. Or, more accurately, she's staring at the dead thing behind whoever is making their way toward her. ]

You... there's... [ Finally, lacking the right words to explain what she's seeing, she resorts to pointing a finger. ] Dead person.

02 | welcome to the black parade [ota]

[ Even misanthropic migraine sufferers need to leave the house every once in a while.

Clarisse is standing near the shop window of Shape of Blood, where she's been ogling a set of knives, and trying to avoid taking a strange mask in the shape of a monster's face from a native. They've clearly just explained something to her, because she's shaking her head. ]

I don't need protection. Ugh—seriously, I don't—back off!

[ Looks like someone isn't planning on showing up for the parade this month. ]

03 [closed to housemates]

[ Clarisse is lying on the couch, curled up and facing inward, her back to the room. At first she might seem to be asleep, but if someone enters the room, she twists the slightest bit so she can see who's there, before turning back to press her pale face against the cushion.

Her head hurts, all the time. Last month, Luna's potions had eased some of her restless energy, and talking with Bella had helped her feel less crazy, but it's abundantly clear that things have gotten much worse with the onset of October. The pounding behind her eyes, the crushing loneliness of everyone around her. She's suffocating under the weight of it. All she wants to do is sleep and forget about this place, but even when she sleeps, she has a headache. Even in other people's dreams, she's sad.

After a few seconds, when she doesn't hear the person exit the room, Clarisse's shoulders tense. She doesn't lift her face from the cushion, and her voice is muffled when she says, sounding almost defensive, ] What?

04 | wildcard!

[ Wildcard option! Feel free to have your character show up at the house looking for Clarisse (or anyone she lives with, if you'd like her to just be the one to answer the door or something). She'll be pretty much AWOL aside from some very rare appearances this month, but this is one way to catch her. ]

Comments

01

[kingofsarcasm]

[Stiles is trying to get a good lay of the land, memorize all the streets and locations and landmarks. Which is extremely hard when there's no street signs for most of them. It's a practical and strategic thing, but also a good distraction from the absolutely bonkers place he's landed himself in and hadn't yet figured out how to cone to terms with.

He's a bit too distracted trying to visually imprint everything around himself to notice there's anything strange about the person behind him. Then the young woman ahead points it out and he turns to see-]

AHHHH! [Cue Stiles leaping backwards towards Clarisse somewhat like scooby doo getting into Shaggy's arms, though not all the way. He's used to Scott being near him when stuff like this happens and he always grabs on to his best bro like he's an anchor. You get to be subjected to that now.]

[laruetheday]

[ To her credit, Clarisse doesn't flinch when Stiles practically grabs onto her in a panic. She has no clue what's going on, but she's used to keeping her cool in weird situations. Besides, the corpse version of the guy next to her doesn't seem to be attacking them. Or doing anything, really, besides following him. ]

Okay, so I take it you don't know why this is happening either.

[ She's gonna do the dumbest thing ever and try talking to the zombie. ]

Hey, hello? You in there?

[kingofsarcasm]

[Stiles lets go of her a second later and tries to play it off cool by running his fingers through his hair. But it's a shaky movement because yeah, it's not every day you're faced with a corpse version of yourself. Also, he hasn't had his medication since he got here.]

Yeah, you think? [Then he squints at the corpse Stiles suspiciously.] Hold on, there's only one other guy with my face in this town, and he's a big enough dick to throw on the thriller make-up and follow me around… I think. Probably.

[He heads over to his corpse self and starts snapping his fingers in its face.] Hey, replicant. I can keep this up all day.

[laruetheday]

Wait, wait. [ Clarisse holds up a hand, like doing so is going to stop the zombie from attacking them if that's what it wants to do. But... there's a couple things to unpack here! ] Replicant? Like Blade Runner?

[ But now that he mentions it, she thinks she remembers seeing a guy who looks very similar on the network. This corpse version is... super realistic, though. Like she doesn't think this is makeup. ]

03~

[kroenleinia]

[Relationships are about sacrifice. And mutual support and understanding that sometimes your girlfriend is having a really weird blood change thing that makes her irritable and emotionally volatile and have constant migraines. And sometimes you just need to make sandwiches and give her space.

Except Bella is also only nineteen and not nearly emotionally mature to keep that up indefinitely. Plus, Clarisse has gone from fretful and moody, but well-meaning, to just plain-out unpleasant. Worst of all, she and Abby aren't talking for...some reason, which means that Bella is the only social interaction Clarisse is getting, which is not enough.

So, instead of depositing the sandwich and carefully backing out of the room like she has been for the past week, Bella is standing next to the bed, arms crossed, scowling.] What what?

[Ah. Eloquent.]

[laruetheday]

[ Clarisse can feel Bella's eyes on her, even before she says anything. After a few seconds, she can't take it anymore, and twists to look at her girlfriend again. ]

Why are you staring at me like that?

[ Again, it's defensive. It's not as if Clarisse can't see what she's doing here, what she's been doing all month. It's not like her at all—the lying around all day shutting out the world isn't like her, anyway—and she knows it isn't fair to any of the people in the house, but especially not to Bella, who's had to bear the brunt of Clarisse's attitude. Mostly because she's the only one in the house Clarisse is actively speaking to right now.

But still, she can't help herself. What's the alternative, go outside and have a headache there? Go to a stupid parade and deal with all the stupid feelings getting shoved in her head without any way to stop it from happening? No. She's better in the house. It's easier in here. ]

[kroenleinia]

[Bella swallows back the temptation to snipe back "like what", because that isn't productive at all. She knows what Clarisse means, and she's doing it on purpose. She'd meant what she said about liking to be in the house -- but that was when everyone in the house was getting along. Not when there was palpable tension between Clarisse and Abby for god knows why.

So she stands there, hands on her hips, feeling...embarrassingly like her dad.] Because you've been in bed for days and you're only talking to me. And only barely.

[laruetheday]

That's how you get rid of a migraine. [ Lying down in a dark room, right?

She literally has no idea, she's never gotten migraines until now. Besides, lying alone in a dark room makes it easier (or so she thought, anyway) to hide the fact that she's barely been speaking to Abby for the past month. All of a sudden, Clarisse is realizing that when you only live with three other people, it's really fucking hard to hide a thing like that.

Still, she'd been counting on Bella to do what everyone else in the house is doing, and not bring it up or ask about it or even imply that something is wrong. The fact that Bella has apparently hit some kind of wall with her feels like a betrayal. Clarisse's eyes narrow. ]

I didn't know there was some law against not talking to people.

02 we gotta get Clarisse to the parade like MCR wanted

[possessum]

( Peter's never been to Prufrock before, but he's taking the whole "cover yourself up" thing very seriously. He can't be literally invisible all the time — and it only ever lasts a couple of hours at the most, anyway. Rumours of where to get gloves aren't hard to come by, and he figures he'll pick up a pair for Luna, too.

When he's done there, he's heading back when he hears.... a familiar voice. Peter freezes, then immediately moves that way, following his friend's voice to the front of the shop window she's at. )

Clarisse? Hey!

( Things have been... weird. Between Luna being ill, his weird demon shit happening, and sometimes coughing up bugs now, it's just.. weird. He hasn't heard from Clarisse in a while, and it's been one of the many worries growing inside him. Seeing her is immediately a relief, though he's just as immediately worried by what she's saying.

.....And clearly has been taking the warnings very literally himself, considering he's stood there in some werewolfy face paint, which is kind of cute but also looks kind of dumb on him. He feels dumb, but it's important to be safe. )

It's uh— it's okay, it's totally safe. The masks and stuff, I mean.

[laruetheday]

[ Clarisse takes one look at Peter and groans. It's at least a little bit because of the werewolf makeup he has on, but it's also a lot because of her migraine. She lifts a hand and presses two fingertips against her temple, rubbing the skin. It doesn't help. ]

I don't care if it's safe. I'm not going to any stupid parade. [ Without warning she grabs for the monster mask, rips it out of the native's outstretched hands, and chucks it aggressively down the street. It clatters into the gutter, and the Trenchie runs after it, muttering in dismay. ]

Go find someone else to bother, [ Clarisse growls after him, before turning her attention back to Peter. She's... looked better. Demigods don't get sick much, and the last time she looked like this she had the death flu, so her waxen face and the dark circles under her eyes might be slightly concerning. ]

I don't get it. Why are you doing this? It doesn't seem like your thing.

[possessum]

( That gesture (like her head hurts) raises a certain alarm bell in Peter, and he's about to ask her about it when he witnesses his friend commit a sudden act of aggression. Peter stares widely as the poor guy runs off after his mask, blinking mutely for a moment, then turns back to Clarisse.

Fuck, she does look pretty bad, clearly sick. It scares him a little, because he isn't used to seeing her look like that, and Peter's staring for a long moment before he answers. )

They said it'd keep us safe. From... whatever the fuck's coming. ( He doesn't actually know what terrors October might hold here, but he's scared to take any chances. )

Are you... okay? You don't look good, dude.

[laruetheday]

You think some mask will keep you safe from whatever horrible shit's slated to happen at the end of the month? Assuming that even happens, [ Clarisse mutters, slouching back against the brick of the shop. The way Peter stares at her makes her feel pissed off and ashamed at the same time. She sees how she's acting, the way she sounds. She just can't stop herself. ]

I don't feel great, [ she admits after a moment, and shuts her eyes for a few moments. ] I've been getting... these headaches. [ Only headache is too kind a word. This is nauseating pain that boils up behind her eyes, makes her head feel like a blocked pressure valve pushed past the brink of functioning. ] I shouldn't have come out here. But I... didn't want to be at my house, either.

2

[themuseabandonsyou]

I think it might be a good idea to take it?

[ Pipes up a voice from behind her, which happens to belong to Orpheus. He appears to have given in to peer pressure pretty quickly, already wearing a black mask fashioned after a crow's skull, the grim aesthetic entirely at odds with his generally sunny demeanor. He seems pretty happy with it, though. ]

It's supposed to be October here, right? Wasn't that the month that always went really badly, back in the dream? Maybe it'll help with whatever's coming here.

[laruetheday]

Okay, well, the month's half over and nothing too terrible's happened yet. [ Aside from this freaking migraine that seems to pop back up every time she thinks it's going away for good, and the stupid white ghost things she keeps seeing out of the corner of her eyes, and the general fact of, like, existing here. If Orpheus has been wondering whether a month has given Clarisse some time to adjust and find her peace with being here: no, it has not. ]

Think I'll take my chances. [ She pushes the offered mask away rather aggressively, and the native Trenchie finally backs off, and Clarisse turns to take her first good look at Orpheus. ]

Dude, you look like a plague doctor.

[themuseabandonsyou]

Do you really think that'll keep up?

[ He sounds genuinely hopeful as he asks this. The thought that there might just be nothing coming had occurred to him, but hearing it from someone else is new. When Clarisse points out his mask, he lifts a hand to tug at the tip of the beak thoughtfully. ]

You're right, I guess I do. [ He laughs, a little. ] I just thought it was neat. Oh, but what have you been up to? I haven't seen you around much.

[ Though it is a big city, and Orpheus himself hasn't been out and about very often thanks to his own migraines. It's kind of to be expected. ]

[laruetheday]

[ Clarisse shrugs. She's not the type to worry about unknowns too much in the first place, but especially not this month, with her ceaseless headache and the overall feeling of desolation that's been inescapable all over the city. Frankly, she hasn't had any time to worry about what might happen at the end of this month. Que Sera, Sera, right? ]

Nothing bad happened last month. I know everyone's freaking out because it's October, but this isn't even the same place. Why should the same rules apply?

[ She folds her arms across her chest and leans back against the brick wall, watching him. ] Mostly hanging out at my house, [ she says, which is Clarisse-ese for "refusing to leave my bed most days." ] I was going to the Gate last month a lot, though. Didn't see you there. [ Would've been an interesting sight. ]

( 01 )

[jedies]

[ obi-wan had been a tad distracted. his senses are at times overwhelmed by this place and what the force is telling him. it is cumbersome to separate the two and still a learning process. so he blinks quizzically before focusing on the corpse. ]

Ah. That could be a problem.

[ though it doesn't look like one. still, his hand drifts towards his saber, just in case. ]

[laruetheday]

[ Well, she's not going to let him be the only one with his hand on a weapon, and so Clarisse reaches down and curls her fingers around the handle of her knife. The corpse has stopped a foot or so behind Obi-Wan and simply stands there, staring into the void. It... sort of reminds Clarisse of the soldiers she summons, plucked out of Asphodel, but those guys can talk, and this corpse hasn't spoken. Still, she wonders. ]

Try giving it an order, [ she suggests. It can't hurt to try. ]

[jedies]

[ an order? obi-wan blinks at the corpse quizzically, before speaking up. normally, he would give a mind suggestion, but those don't work with orders. ]

Do not more.

[laruetheday]

[ Clarisse raises an eyebrow. The dead guy isn't moving, but he wasn't really moving before, either. Just following. If it were her, she would've told the corpse to punch himself in the face, but not her dead guy = not her choice. ]

I can't tell if it worked or not.

03

[armd]

(after the disasterous text conversation, the avoidance between them becomes a mutual thing. abby isn't sure what else she's supposed to do, save for going to clarisse with her tail between her legs in order to explain what happened, and she can't do that, no way. she's embarrassed. she's miserable and heart-sore from registering the message that clarisse chose not to respond to yesterday. I cant fuck this up, she'd said, desperate and clumsy, and clarisse hadn't answered her because it couldn't be any clearer: you did. abby gets it.

but she misses her, even though clarisse makes herself easy to avoid. she stays in her room a lot. abby stays out of the house. it feels like somebody has drawn a line through it, and she's determined to stick to her side, at least until she can't stand it any more. and clarisse, to her credit, never said she didn't want to have the conversation full-stop, she didn't want to have it over text, so... there could still be a chance.

abby waits. she gives it time to cool off, and then one day she purposefully hangs back when she'd usually have left in the morning, and waits her out. finds her sprawled out on the couch with her head shoved into a cushion, as limp as a dead thing.)

It's me. (clarisse was probably expecting her to be bella. she'll just have to live with that disappointment,) Can I talk to you?

(she's got a single ace up her sleeve which she plans to use to her advantage as much as possible: her blood, a natural counter to clarisse's. it's sure to ease up her migraine the moment abby dares to take a seat at the edge of the couch, being careful not to sit on her feet.)

[laruetheday]

[ Abby asks for permission, but she doesn't wait for an answer before she takes a seat next to Clarisse's feet. (She registers the thought that if they weren't fighting, Abby probably would've sat right on them, not made the effort to give her space.) Maybe the way that Abby did that, just sat next to her without giving her a choice, should make Clarisse bristle, but she's too tired and, if she's being totally honest, too sad to fight it. It takes her a minute, her muscles tense underneath the blanket, but finally she shifts so she can look over at Abby on the other end of the couch.

She's not too surprised by Abby waiting her out a while and then coming to her. She knows Abby... well, she knows Abby enough... to know that she's kind of relentless. Not in the same stupid way Clarisse is. Clarisse will stubborn herself to death on this couch, but at least Abby will try to solve her own problems. ]

Go ahead. [ Her voice comes out croakier than she intends it to, and for a few seconds she's tempted to shove her face back against the cushion so Abby doesn't have to look at her. By some stroke of luck, her headache is fading the slightest bit. Enough so she's suddenly self-aware of the fact that she must look fucking pathetic right now, anyway. ]

[armd]

(she doesn't like feeling as if she's trapping clarisse in this conversation, but maybe it has to happen like this for anything to actually happen: abby cornering her on the couch while she's already feeling bad. otherwise, they'll avoid each other until one of them snaps and makes it even worse, like abby already did, with the text. she just doesn't want something like that to happen again, that's all. she misses her friend, and she wants to sort all of this out.)

I'm sorry about last week. (probably the best place to start. she's watching clarisse shift around to meet her gaze, and she tips gently against the couch to press her cheek against the back of it, hunching up around her hands in her lap.

god. she can't believe how tired clarisse looks. honestly, it makes abby feel really sad, and guilty. she's miserable, out of energy, and in pain. she hasn't been back into abby's room in the dead of night to shake her awake, but abby is still having bad dreams... they must be keeping her up.)

I really wanted to know what was going on, but– you were right. It was shit of me to try and ask you like that. (she doesn't look down at her fingers, even though she automatically wants to shield herself from clarisse's expression. she makes herself look.)

shows up late with starbucks - 01

[serment]

Do you just say anything that comes to mind?

( dully. absolutely no tact at all. honestly, while she doesn't doubt that something weird is behind her—isn't it always just something here?—this isn't the regular way one might go about such a thing.

then she glances behind her.

she doesn't see anything. definitely not a shambling and stumbling version of herself as a corpse. )

You sure about that?

[laruetheday]

[ Clarisse's eyes narrow. Normally she'd be more alarmed at the way Catra doesn't seem to be aware of the corpse at all—that can't be good—but this stupid headache... she's off her game, and ready to be pissed off by just about anything. The blase way Catra glances over her shoulder and then implies that Clarisse is an idiot or a liar (both?!) tips her over the edge pretty instantly.

She waves a hand in the direction of the ghost, zombie, whatever it is, and snaps, ]

Why would I lie about something like that?