notice all the ways i've changed (closed)

[armd]

Who: Abby & assorted
What: Catch-all
When: November
Where: All over the show.

Content Warnings: Description of a dead body (nightmare edition), mention of weed

PM/come tug my sleeve on plurk @ blisters for a starter! :-)

Comments

for clarisse (cw description of a dead body)

[armd]

She's had periods of time in her life when she didn't have nightmares with any frequency. Abby thinks of it as a rollercoaster track. Sometimes she's on the up, and it's good, it's really good, but eventually she hits the top of the arc and she has to come down the other side.

River didn't fucking help.

The one tonight is just weird. It starts in the aquarium and she spends what feels like hours in there looking for Owen with anxiety clawing up the back of her throat. His boat in the harbor is there, cabin lights on, and Abby approaches it but it's not him in there. It's somebody else.

And the dream progresses like that for a bit–

Turns to something weighty and cold on her chest, pushing her down. It stinks. She shoves at it, and the dead body rolls off of her. The head lolls slowly to the side; ants cascade out of the hole warping one eye into ruin, and she screams at the sight of Manny's blank eyed expression. His mouth is open as he begins to scream with her–

[laruetheday]

At this point, three months in, Clarisse can't say she's used to her blood powers. They don't feel intuitive to her the way her powers from Ares do, and she's worried they never will, that for the rest of her time here she'll feel like she's wielding a weapon she doesn't know how to use. But there are things she's beginning to make her peace with, like the sharp stabs of other people's dread and panic that hit her in the middle of the night and make her jolt out of sleep.

Usually it's Abby. Abby has more fucked up nightmares than any mortal Clarisse has ever known. She hasn't witnessed any of them firsthand, which she's thankful for, but the horrible feelings they inspire in her friend have her waking up with her fingers clutching the blanket tight enough to hurt, her jaw clenched shut to keep back a scream.

Last month she'd lain awake with her head pounding until the feelings had subsided on their own. Now she climbs out of bed, grabs her bag off the side table, and makes her way down the cold hallway and down the stairs. She enters Abby's room, shivering, and lays a hand on her arm. Abby's skin is hectically hot, a sharp contrast to the cold air seeping in through the old house.

"Hey." It's hushed. "It's me."

[armd]

The sudden touch on her arm makes Abby lash out in response as she jolts out of sleep. A quick, blind strike: she hits Clarisse hard in the hip with a balled up fist, all strength and zero technique. She cracks her knuckles right on the bone. The zing of pain through her hand wakes her all the way up with a grunt.

It's just Clarisse. Only her room, and the two of them in it. Abby's got her sheets twisted up around her legs, and cold sweat on the back of her neck. She has to kick a bit to get herself free.

"Ouch," she grumbles, grouchy and upset in the aftermath of her nightmare. She hunches up around her sore hand to hide the tears that well up and blur her vision. How down her brain come up with this shit? Could be something in Trench that spurs it on. Could be something in her blood.

A soft sniff. She runs her tongue along her teeth.

"You're so bony." Read: sorry.

[laruetheday]

"Ow, fuck!"

Okay, maybe she should have expected that. Clarisse takes a stumbling step backward (too late, already punched) and rubs at her hip, wincing as Abby gets herself untangled and sits up. Her hip aches and she knows there'll be a bruise there tomorrow morning, but she's consoling herself with the knowledge that there are way worse places to be punched at 2 AM.

Besides, they're lucky it was Clarisse who came down here to wake her up instead of, like... Lev. Abby might have punched his head right off his shoulders and into the backyard. The thought is just cartoonishly mean and chaotic enough to make Clarisse have to stifle a laugh.

"I'm not bony, dumbass, you just have terrible aim," she says, and climbs onto the bed, nudging Abby with her shoulder as she goes. "Shove over, I'm freezing."

[armd]

"Yeah? Well you're bad at dodging," she counters, but she's feeling properly apologetic now. Rude of Abby to hit... albeit stupid of Clarisse to try and touch her, that was really the last thing she should have done. She knows that now, though. Oops.

She scoots on the mattress, and pulls the comforter up over Clarisse's legs once she's in. It is a gesture of peace.

"... You are freezing." She's dropping her head down on Clarisse's shoulder anyway. Get comfortable, you are now her pillow.

[laruetheday]

It's warm under the blanket, and Clarisse settles in, leaving her bag at the foot of the bed. "Stupid house gets so cold at night now," she mutters, as Abby uses her as a pillow. "I miss Phoenix."

She misses the mountains. And... cacti. And no rain. And the Suns. She hadn't thought she'd miss it so much, but she also hadn't thought she'd end up in a perpetually damp place that always smells like mushrooms, fish, and blood, either. So whatever.

"Seemed like you were having some fucked up dream," she says with a sigh. "I never know what to do. Like, do I come wake you up, or let it finish on its own?" Isn't there some rule about not waking people who are having a nightmare? No, Clarisse, that's sleepwalkers.

[armd]

Yeah, the presence of the bag makes her smile slightly as Clarisse gets cozy next to her. It's like she's here for a sleepover. Abby allows herself to briefly entertain the notion of them being back in Deerington in the time before they shared a house, when they would take it in turns to show up at each other's and stay a night. Yeah. She misses those times, if only because none of this blood shit was going on in the background. Abby can't believe she was ever excited about having powers of her own.

"Really fucked up."

She mutters it, and promptly turns onto her side, curling into Clarisse with a huff of breath. Who cares if she seems needy. Clarisse doesn't give a shit, "Waking me up is good, I'd rather you did. But– yell at me. Or throw something from the doorway."

A beat. "Sorry I punched you. You good?"

[laruetheday]

"Okay," Clarisse agrees, thinking at the same time that there's no way she's ever going to wake Abby up by yelling or throwing something at her. It seems too fucked up to do that to someone who's having a nightmare, even if the alternative is getting punched.

She rubs at the sore spot on her hip. "I've been hit worse. Besides, you were, like... asleep." So it's fine, Abby, really. She waits a second, then says, "We can talk about it if you want." The nightmares. Or whatever. "But we don't have to if you don't."

for luna (cw: weed reference)

[armd]

(continuing from here.)

(no matter how she decides to do it she's certainly met with no judgement, only abby trying her very best to place her. luna beats her to it.)

Oh yeah. (she remembers: that afternoon they all crammed into clarisse's apartment, and– smoked weed? and the dog was there. peter's dog, dozy in clarisse's lap. she wore the stupid trucker hat that abby gave her all evening, jammed it onto her head the moment she unwrapped it.

this girl had been there too, in the corner. quiet, and withdrawn. clarisse had mentioned she'd been recovering from the death flu.)

... Did you ever get better?

(bad joke, she knows, but–)

[creidim]

[ Yes, that's... pretty much her. The one who Peter probably spent a good portion of the time at the party just gently fretting over and checking up on, too. That's the one. It had been her second death, the effects of it lasting a bit longer than the first. Death in Deerington is... quite a ride, really.

But she'd wanted to go to the party even if she wasn't still quite herself, considering she was still in the Death Realm on Clarisse's actually birthday. Bit of a faux pas in terms of friendships. ]

You've... appeared to have caught me on bad days. [ Quite a fair point, in all honesty. ] I'm usually quite well. I just... don't know, this just seemed to... come out of nowhere.

[armd]

Yeah? Hopefully I'm not the one jinxing it for you. (a bit of levity needed, perhaps. she still looks wan, and tired. hopefully it will pass, but they may need a bit of time; fuck, she's so sick of this.)

A lot of shit around here seems to happen without warning. (a low mutter. she rubs the back of her neck,) So far, I think it's worse than Deerington was.

[creidim]

Should it happen a third time, I may have to... seriously consider you some kind of bad luck charm. [ There's a degree of seriousness to it, because who knows. But there's still a smile. She's rather lucky it's a somewhat familiar face, even if it's one she doesn't really know. ] I'm Luna.

I feel this is... oddly less worse than Deerington was in October. Were you ever around for one of those?

[ Part of her feels like she would absolutely take this over Deerington's infamous Octobers. ]

[bowliever]

So. Are you gonna talk about what's going on?

[That's the start of the conversation as he enters her room and leans against the doorframe. She can pretend whatever she wants but he knows something is wrong. He doesn't even need her omen pacing around like it's afraid something is about to jump it to figure that one out.]

[armd]

(well.

abby glances up from where she's sitting on her bed, a faintly amused smile on her face. she'd been reading something on the screen of her omni, but once he plants himself firm and unmoving in the doorframe she clicks it off, and sets it aside.)

What is this, a holdup? (very funny. he's not even going to get the joke, but she can't help but make it. there's been a lot going on. more than usual; it's not that she doesn't want to talk to him about it, but that she thinks to give it all to him would be too much.)

[bowliever]

I'm not holding you up. I'm just asking. I can leave if you want.

[YEAH. JOKE COMPLETELY MISSED.

Thankfully, the sentiment remains clear.]

[armd]

(the joke is always completely missed why does she ever bother)

Yeah, (she sighs, softening,) I know. I don't want you to leave, kid. C'mere.

(means a lot that he'd check in on her. she scoots over a little on her bed, and pats the end for him to indicate that he should come and sit.)

[bowliever]

[He goes over and sits on the edge of the bed, swinging his leg, and looking at her. He's already asked the question, it's up to her to decide if she wants to answer.

So for now, he'll wait.]

[armd]

(she'll answer, she promises. just might take a second or two for her to get to the heart of everything.)

This whole... blood thing, (she hedges,) It's– hard.

(a hesitant glance, directed his way.) I tested it, on Clarisse. It burned her skin away, almost to the bone.

(like a bloater, there's a disturbing thought. she looks at her knuckles, frowning, staring at the scabs on them. like ill-fitting lids on jars of acid.) M'worried about it. What if I hurt her, you. Bella. By mistake.

[bowliever]

If you did, it would be an accident. And it's not like we can't get healed here.

[He shakes his head. He gets it, he does. But at the same time, he doesn't understand why she's beating herself up over this.]

You just have to accept it as real. You can't walk upstream against rapids, right? The only way is to go with the flow of the water.

for laurel

[armd]

Willful Machine is one of Abby's favourite spots in Trench. It's a high-energy spot, chaotic, packed with people and stalls. In odd ways it reminds her of the stadium. The mess hall, maybe? People trying to hock wares, make trades: it's far closer to the economy that she left behind in Seattle, and feels more like being at home. She misses bits and pieces of home these days, especially now that she's started having difficulty with her blood here, something she never goddamn asked for.

No point dwelling on it. Easier to let herself have that point of familiarity in her pocket for comfort, kept there like a worry stone.

Today's a little busier, and everybody has some place to be. Everybody except Abby, who finds herself blocking foot traffic more than once as she attempts to cut through. Eventually somebody smacks into her with something, and she disrupts the flow enough to get an accidental elbow to the face.

Laurel might find her tucked off to the side and dealing with a bloody nose, her hand cupped underneath of the vile green trickle making its way sluggishly down over her upper lip.

sorry for the delay

[lightinside]

Ever since Laurel found an apartment in Willful Machine, it seemed like the place was non-stop. Even at night when the traders weren't around, there were people still out in the streets. Laurel has already stopped a few petty thieves from picking pockets, but she doesn't think her actions will discourage them altogether. At least she could prevent any loss for a couple of nights.

She left the apartment after breakfast today, wanting to get an early start to have a thorough look around the place for anything interesting and maybe go for a run later. Laurel had no training scheduled so she had a lot of free time and she was going to use it as wisely as possible.

When she reaches the main trading area she is surprised at how busy it is at this time, looking at the huge crowd before trying to dodge them. Laurel steps off the main area to catch a breath and notices Abby with her nose all banged up.

"Abby!" She exclaims, coming over to her to lend a hand. "Did someone hit you?" Laurel searches in her pocket for a tissue, holding it out to her. She hadn't expected the green blood, but it didn't concern her right now.

me too thanks 😞

[armd]

The injury isn't serious, but there's enough blood present to have Abby lurching back from Laurel as she approaches, flashing her a warning look.

"Watch it–"

From a distance, she reaches out and takes the tissue so, very gingerly, and obviously with the hand that hasn't been cupped underneath of her chin. There's a wet, green smear on her cheek from where she's scrubbed with the back of her hand.

"It's poisonous," she explains thickly, dabbing away with the tissue.

no worries <3

[lightinside]

Laurel heeds the warning from her, taking a slight step back away from her. At least she took the tissue so Laurel feels better about that. There's obviously a reason why Abby gave a warning in the first place and she gets an explanation soon.

"Poisonous? I never knew that about the blood - what's the name of yours?"

She tries to remember the different names of the blood types while waiting for Abby to reply to her.

[armd]

"Vile." Fitting, right. It's not the only thing that Abby hates about it.

"I didn't know either. Found out the hard way." It's what contributed to her rough warning, and there's a tone in her voice to suggest that she doesn't want to explain herself any further than that.

"How about you? What type have you got?"

[lightinside]

She reads the tone loud and clear, deciding to not force the issue nor ask Abby exactly what happened. Laurel does remain within talking distance, in case she needs a hand in some other way.

"Pale. I did a self-test to find out. Pricked my finger." So no trauma or hardship in discovering what her blood type is.

"Do you wanna find somewhere else to sit? Away from the madness?"