april catchall [ota + closed starters]

[laruetheday]

Who: Clarisse + you
What: It's aaaa generic birthday mingle! + some closed starters
When: April, particularly around the 15th
Where: Earworm

Content Warnings: Drinking and potentially those Special Mushrooms that are available at Earworm



[ What do you do when you're turning twenty one in a month of perpetual darkness, but your blood type isn't making you hallucinate or want to punch yourself in the face until you fall into a coma for one of the first times since you arrived in Trench?

If you're Clarisse, you park yourself at Earworm and pretty much just stay there.

For the first half of April—particularly on the fifteenth and the days close to it—Clarisse can be found hanging out at the club—either inside already, or lingering near the entrance. If you're already on her (very short) list of friends she's probably texted you an actual invite; but the fact that she's somehow survived another year seems to have her in a good mood, and even if she doesn't know you too well, she'll give a nod when she recognizes you. (Or, potentially, even if she doesn't recognize you.) ]

Drink?

[ ... And, listen, if she's already drunk, she might offer you a mushroom, too. Because why not. ]

Comments

starter for: rose da silva

[laruetheday]

[ The meteor showers that bring the portals to Trench are beautiful, but Clarisse doesn't trust them. Like the butterflies this month, they seem designed to lull people into a sense of wonder, to have them trustingly reach out and pull things into this world without a thought for the consequence of doing so. Objects. People. Beasts.

Still, it's hard to avoid them completely—not when they're one of the few sources of light this month, and not when they're so amazing to watch. She tells herself that she's looking so she can stop other people from bringing things through, but the truth is she's looking because part of her is wishing for a glimpse of something or someone familiar. Even if it's a trick. Even if it's temporary.

She finds herself drawn closer to one particular light because it appears so close by, only a few dozen feet away. As it lands, soft and silent, it expands until it's a portal the size of a small house. Clarisse thinks, Not a great sign, and that's all she has time for before something huge and scaly begins to emerge from the portal. Clarisse feels the vibration through her feet as it lands on their side. She's already backing up before she counts the nine serpantine heads that begin to stretch out in every direction, listening.

She nearly backs into somebody else, a woman she vaguely recognizes from the network—the blonde one talking about stuff from home. This is definitely not the memento she would've chosen, had she been given the option. ]

Don't... move, [ Clarisse says quietly, still standing in front of the woman. Even that is enough to make two of the hydra's heads whip searchingly in their direction. It reminds her of a cat spotting a mouse, the way it'll just watch, waiting for movement, before it strikes.

Shit. ]

[rosae]

( Patrolling through Trench is a habit that's easy to fall into. The goal has changed — no longer is she searching for her daughter, calling out her name until her throat gets hoarse — but the meaning behind it is the same. To protect Sharon with everything she can.

Now, that means facing the creatures from their world. Those monsters have managed to slip through this month, and it's all too fitting, considering Trench's perpetual darkness. It's like those sirens have gone off and the city's fallen to that nightmare world.

When she's not home, she's stalking the cobblestone streets with a steel pipe held in her hands — a souvenir found from a dilapidated warehouse last month. It maybe won't do much when it comes to some of the things she knows she could be facing, but it's better than nothing. She'll upgrade to something better someday soon.

Another portal's opening up. And every instinct should tell a person to run away, but Rose ignores the quick pulse of her own heart and approaches it, because she's learned that sometimes she can take certain monsters off-guard, knock them down before they have a chance to see her. The quivering, pigeon-toed things without arms that hobble along, or the gasping nurses without faces. There are other children besides only her own in this place, and it's her job to take away as many monsters as she can.

Except the portals stretching open wider than she's ever seen one — and Rose is looking up and up, and there's something bigger than any of Silent Hill's monsters. Bigger than anything she's encountered at all. She's almost stupidly stunned as she takes in the serpentine necks and heads, mouth tipped open in a rising horror. Then there's someone against her, and she's blinking, recognising the young woman right back.

To her credit, Rose doesn't scream her head off the way she once might have. No, she stays quiet and stays as still as she's warned to, gripping the pipe tighter. Not sure this thing's going to do much against— whatever the fuck that is. )

That's definitely not from my world. ( She whispers, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as it looks their way. )

cw hydra decapitation 🐉🔪

[laruetheday]

Nope, [ Clarisse mutters back. Slowly, she lifts her right arm until she's gripping the shaft of her spear, then pulls it out and in front of her. ] It's from mine.

[ The movement does exactly what she knew it would, and the hydra snaps in their direction with one of its heads. It reminds Clarisse of a snake, taking a test strike before it commits to a real attack. She takes another step backward, pushing Rose along as she does. Hey, maybe if they just back away, the hydra will move on.

Except, haha, of course that doesn't happen. Simply stepping backward drives the hydra to strike again with another whipping neck and gaping mouth, and without thinking Clarisse drives upward with her spear. It jabs itself into the soft part of the hydra's neck and punches itself all the way up and out the top of its head. Clarisse jerks her arms in one strong, brutal motion, twisting the spear's barbed tip, and the hydra's head essentially pops off, dangling by a thread of skin.

And then, before either of them can react, the stump begins to heal itself, growing two new, identical heads in a matter of just a couple seconds, turning what was a nine-headed hydra into an eleven-headed one. Good going, Clarisse. ]

[rosae]

( When the young woman mentioned being from a reality in which children inherit weapons, Rose hadn't expected.... this. Her head tilts back further, eyes widening. Is this the kind of thing this girl had been raised to fight, back home?? Jesus Christ.

There's not much time to think about how monumentally horrific that is on all levels, not just yet. Because the thing is snapping towards them, and everything that happens next is fast and violent and Rose is watching the girl thrust her spear up into the thing's neck, slicing it nearly all the way off.

It's so horrible that Rose almost can't comprehend it. She's just staring — the thing's changing, growing...... She gives a ragged sound, a sort of gasp, and her hands tighten against the pipe. )

Its heads regrow. ( Almost numbly, she states the obvious as her mind processes it. She realises that she might die.

She realises that she'd do anything to stop that from happening, and she's moving a bit out from behind Clarisse to stand more beside her, instead. )

Is there any way to kill it?

[laruetheday]

[ The last (only) time Clarisse killed a hydra, she'd been on a ship—an ironclad given to herby her dad. She hadn't had to do anything except fire a canon. Anything big enough to blast this thing apart would do the job just as well, but she doubts they'll find anything capable of that on this cobblestone lined street.

She blocks a swipe of a snarling head with her spear, the power behind the strike sending her back a few steps, and tries to think back to afternoons at camp, learning about the old time heroes. Hercules killed the hydra. Did it with— ]

Fire? [ She sounds unsure, but then repeats herself with more confidence: ] We need something with fire. If we cauterize the necks before they can regrow, we can kill it.

andy & clarisse | earworm

[killtime]

[ It's not Andy's usual haunt — not that she's even been in Trench long enough to really have one of those. But this club has a different atmosphere than the shitty little bars she generally prefers. Hard to say what has her breaking from habit tonight. Just restless maybe. That happens sometimes, when you're a couple thousand years old. Time seems to pass too quickly and too slowly at the same time. The constant darkness hasn't helped with that much either. Her sleep's been even more fucked than normal.

Nothing booze can't fix though. Even with the immortal curse, she can drink enough to coax unconsciousness along if she puts her mind to it. That's as good an excuse as any for a centuries-old alcoholic. She's already several shots deep by the time she hears that question. It earns a sidelong glance, then a light scoff. Dryly: ]

Are you even old enough to buy me one?

[laruetheday]

[ The absolute audacity of this woman for asking (a perfectly reasonable question, honestly) has Clarisse scoffing right back. Fucking rude! She's instantly annoyed, can feel her ears going hot the way they always do when she ends up embarrassed, and for a few agonizing moments she isn't sure which emotion is going to win out. She takes a couple breaths while she tries to keep either—both—from spilling out into the crowd around her. Last thing she needs right now is to end up surrounded by a bunch of pissed off strangers. Not that she couldn't take 'em if she had to, but still. Bad vibes. ]

Does it matter? [ A free drink is a free drink. But, for the record: ] As of today I am.

[killtime]

[ To be fair, Andy is not cursed with an excess of manners, and booze has never served to improve that fact. It probably says something about her too, that she actually seems a little bit amused when she sees the way this young woman struggles visibly with her temper. The corner of Andy's mouth quirks upward ever so slightly around the rim of her glass as she tosses back what's left of her current drink. ]

You sure you wouldn't rather fight me? [ Wryly: ] Might go easy on you, since it's your birthday.

[ She's joking. Making fun. Mostly. ]

[laruetheday]

[ Challenging somebody to a fight upon first meeting them, or skipping the challenge part and getting right down to it, is innately natural to Clarisse—the Ares cabin doesn't have their reputation for nothing. She only stopped doing it regularly when she left for college and had to spend all of her time with mortals who frown on that kind of thing. And even then she managed to involve herself in a fair amount of scuffles, because frat guys are idiots.

Since she's been here, though, she hasn't run into too many people who'd just come out and ask, even as a joke. Maul is the only one who's done it with any amount of regularity, and he is the joke. She grins, still not entirely friendly—in fact, it's more of a sneer—and turns to look at Andy properly. This could be fun. ]

Please. I'd kick your ass. What are you, forty? Better watch out, you might break a hip.

[cuddlery]

[Scorpia hangs out at the Earworm every now and then. It can be a fun place to hang out at, and she likes the music! And seeing a familiar face makes it even more pleasant. So she smiles when she runs into Clarisse.]

Oh hey there, Clarisse! [She nods along at her offer.] Sure. I am pretty thirsty right now, I'd say!

[laruetheday]

Cool. Uh, I'd ask what you want but I think they only serve one thing here.

[ What the One Thing is, she's not exactly sure. Some kind of alcohol, but Clarisse couldn't say what it's supposed to be. Probably some kind of moonshine, if she had to guess. Not that she's ever had that. It's just the whole sleazy vibe she's getting.

Trying to look like she knows what she's doing (she doesn't, but she's a decent enough faker), she sidles up to the bar and orders two drinks from the worm-like bartender, then brings them back to where Scorpia's waiting. ]

[cuddlery]

Fine by me! [She waves her pincer in reassurance.] I'm not picky. I'll try whatever's on the menu!

[She smiles casually. A little recreational drinking can be fun! So she just hovers in the background and watches as Clarisse gets the drinks for them. She reaches out a pincer to claim her own.]

Thank you! That was nice of you, Clairisse. Oh! Should we clink our glasses together before we start drinking? Now that's always a fun part!

[laruetheday]

Oh. Yeah, okay, sure.

[ Obligingly, she lifts her glass and clinks it against Scorpia's before tipping it back and taking a drink. It's... well, it's gross, but its grossness is sort of the point. The grosser the drink, the more potent it is—at least that's what she's going with. ]

I hear this stuff is hangover-proof. Have you had it before?

starter for: viktor

[laruetheday]

[ Just like she'd assumed they would, the portals showing up in Trench don't only bring beloved objects and quick glances of the loved ones the Sleepers have left behind. There are monsters showing up in town, things she's never seen before who must have arrived from universes unlike her own. Then again, there are plenty of monsters from her own world she hasn't personally encountered yet. Maybe there are even things she's never heard of before, creatures no half-blood has lived to tell about.

The point is, the portals are no bueno, as far as Clarisse is concerned. It's fun to kill stuff, but less fun feeling like she could get attacked any time, by any weird thing, or worse, have to fend something off while also trying to protect somebody else's dumb ass—

Which is, of course, exactly how she finds herself one afternoon (maybe? hard to tell, without the freaking sun), running up to a skinny guy and already grabbing for her spear as one of the portals starts to open up and reveal several ghastly, grinning skeletal figures. They clamber out in a mass of clicking, bleached white bones. ]

Hey! Back off!

[ It's unclear whether she's yelling at the guy or the dead... guys. Both, maybe. ]

[mehanizovati]

[for once viktor can safely say he wasn't out poking his nose where it shouldn't go. yes okay, maybe he's went to look around at the portals a few times despite knowing dangerous things came out of them. how could he resist a look into new worlds? or finding useful resources? he thinks he's perfectly in the right to maybe, just maybe, take a few more risks than he should.

this time he was just out to skim the markets for a few items, both for the bunker and for his projects. completely innocent, no curiosity and cats and all that. it figures this is when some of those meteors would fall and a portal would open and- ok yes, he did go just to take a peek but he was already close.

skeletons. well, that's a lot of skeletons. he takes a wary step back to assess how the hell he's dealing with this when- oh, that is very much someone with a spear.

viktor is having a weird day, honestly.]

Ah- [he starts but is more than happy to take a step back, watching the clacking mass shamble further. one gets close enough he gives up on being passive and plants his good leg, swinging his crutch to connect with the grinning skull. it does come snapping off the skeleton's neck but doesn't stop it in the slightest. great.]

[laruetheday]

[ The guy she's running at swings his crutch and does an admirable job taking the head off one of the skeleton crew. Unfortunately, it doesn't stop said skeleton from continuing forward, taking one clattering step after another, along with its cohort. Which, shit, doesn't exactly bode well for Clarisse's spearwork.

She tries it anyway—jabs the spear into the eye socket of another skeleton as soon as she's within range, and hopes the electricity will do what Viktor's crutch didn't, and finish the job. It doesn't. She pops the head off this one, too, but the body just keeps coming, reaching out with bleached white fingers. ]

We're gonna have to stomp them or something. Crush 'em, [ she growls. Yes, Viktor, you too. ]

[mehanizovati]

Um- [well! that was a lot to watch. honestly he's kind of fascinated by that... electric spear? magic? so many questions he cannot ask because he has to deal with skeletons which like really.

he's pretty sure she's telling him to stomp on them too, which is not something he thought he'd be doing today. he gets back from the headless skeleton and slams the heel of his good leg down to the skull, grimacing when it takes a few hits for it to start crumbling properly.

at least that skeleton actually falls too? well.] It worked! I think.

[possessum]

( Every month here sucks in a different way, and this month seems to take the cake — something he's probably thought about each month prior — but it's a bad time.

It's dark outside, always, and Peter's confused all the time. Not just the usual confusion, but a triple dose brought on by the fact Paimon's keeping him in some weird demon-drugged state. Doing shit to his head in order to try and keep him from getting too Corrupted, and it helps, but it doesn't come without side effects.

John Constantine's gone. That's a hurt that Peter hasn't even remotely touched upon. He can't. Not yet. He just pretends like it's not there, numbs himself to it.

And there's Luna. Who's so badly Corrupted by the middle of the month that it's hard to think of her as Luna some days. Peter's a fucking nervous wreck (more than he usually is), and Paimon's working overtime with the mental manipulation to try and appease that in him.

It means that when he makes his way to Earworm, Peter just stands there inside for like three minutes straight, completely confused by the new environment and checked out. Then his brain juices manage to kick in again and he remembers why he came here. One good, normal thing inbetween all the awful, horrible shit.

He spots Clarisse soon enough and makes his way up to her with a hand shoved up through his hair and a Hey, immediately appreciative of that offer. Peter's not too experienced with alcohol, but right now he'll take anything. )

God, yeah. It's been a day. ...Night. Whatever. ( He gives one of his trademark smiles that somehow also looks like a nauseated wince. ) Do they even serve anything here that isn't like... blood?

[laruetheday]

[ Peter's... definitely looked better, and Clarisse feels instantly guilty for dragging him out like this. Second year in a row, too, like she's some douche who forces everybody to celebrate her birthday even when they've got other, more important shit happening in their lives. ]

I don't think it's blood. [ She doesn't know that it's not, but she's also not planning on asking anybody.

Instead, she makes her way to the bar and orders two glasses of Whatever It Is for herself and Peter, then maneuvers her way back through the crowd to where he's waiting. She takes another, closer look at him and frowns, concern in her expression. ]

You okay? You can leave if you're... sick or something. [ Or Something is more likely, given that it's Trench. ]

[possessum]

( Peter wishes he was joking about the blood concerns, but in this place...? You never know. Everything seems to revolve around blood.

But he's accepting the drink without much suspicion when she returns, peering into it only for a second before taking a sip. Not blood, just something that feels nice and strong, and he's giving a thumbs up before he looks at her. )

Oh— no, I'm okay. Just— ( There's a beat of hesitation. Though he doesn't know the extent of it (like the heated text arguments that go on into the early hours of the morning), he does know Clarisse and Paimon aren't exactly cordial. It's a subject he doesn't often bring up around her directly. )

—He's kind of fucking with my head lately. You know... him. It's technically like... to help me, but it's making me feel kind of weird? It's okay, though.

( He definitely wants to be here. Being dead for Clarisse's birthday last year was a total bummer, even if he tried to make up for it by providing lots of weed for the belated get-together. )

[laruetheday]

[ The mention of Peter's demon has Clarisse making a sour face, which she tries (and fails, probably) to cover up by taking a drink. She still has no idea how much, if anything, Peter knows about her own relationship with Paimon. Whether he knows that Paimon has texted her at two in the morning, or that he made her hallucinate that she was choking on bugs that one time. ]

What do you mean, to help you?

[ Whatever Peter's views are toward Paimon at this point, Clarisse's have only gotten worse. She doesn't trust that whatever he's doing is actually for Peter's benefit, and it's pretty obvious by the look on her face. ]

[creidim]

[ Of course Luna would come out to spend time with Clarisse for her birthday. She's still a little sorry she missed last year, with the fact she (and Peter) were both dead at that time. She's not in the cheeriest of moods with the departure of John, but she makes an effort to come out.

And she's certainly not hard to miss as she makes her way through the crowd to get to the bar. Along with the currently pale, gaunt appearance, she's currently sporting a tiny pair of deer antlers, no bigger than that of a very young buck. Her eyes, missing their pupils, glow almost ominously with an iridescent sheen through the darkened room of Earworm. She's... quite spooky looking.

Pulling herself onto a barstool, she raises her eyebrows at the question before looking across the bar. There's... a lot of choice, here. Luna's... still relatively under-educated about alcoholic drinks. ]

Oh, I wouldn't know what to go for. Why don't you pick something for me?

[ She'll then be sliding over a small, long box to her from across the bar to her. Inside, she'll find a knife with a bone handle. Luna is certainly no expert on weapons, but she was quite sure Clarisse would appreciate a nice knife. ]

Here, this is for you— Happy Birthday.

[laruetheday]

[ Luna's appearance is striking and a little bit scary, especially in the semi-dark of the club, and Clarisse can't help but stare at her for just a bit longer than is polite. Then she looks away, deliberately not saying a word about the horns or the fact that Luna's eyes don't seem to have whites anymore, like not acknowledging that will keep it from being the truth.

She orders a drink for both of them—something strong that still manages to taste like it grew underneath somebody's porch, and then she opens the box. The knife has her looking excited and happy in a genuine way that's been rare since they all came to Trench, and she runs her fingers over the bone handle, her touch light and almost reverent. ]

This is so fucking cool. Thanks. [ She turns the knife in her hand, feeling out the weight of it. ]

[creidim]

[ Luna is... admittedly used to the staring. Clarisse isn't the first, and likely won't be the last. She's probably just being polite with the fact she's not saying anything. Which she's partly grateful for, tonight is meant to be about Clarisse, not her. ]

I don't know much about weapons— [ Apart from her Dream Hunter Bow, knives are probably the most familiar to her. Even if she mostly uses them with magic-related business over any fighting business. ] But I thought it's always handy to have a nice knife, since they're quite versatile. So I thought you might appreciate it.

[ When her drink arrives, the pulls the glass towards her and takes a cautious sniff, and her eyes widen. ...Is this go hard or go home...? Merlin help her. ]

... This smells like something very alcoholic.

[laruetheday]

It is, [ Clarisse agrees happily, because what is the point of alcohol if it doesn't get you ~waaasted~? She was, after all, a university freshman before she up and teleported to Deerington a couple years ago. She clunks her glass against Luna's and takes a fiery, bitter drink of the... the whatever it is. ]

Knives are great. I always use one as my sidearm. [ Gotta have a sidearm. ] The bone handle is beautiful. [ There are, legitimately, two things in this world Clarisse feels comfortable calling beautiful, and they are her girlfriend and a sweet looking weapon. ]