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 Posted: Sat May 12, 2012 11:10 pm
A manila envelope lay beside Clerise when she woke up for another fun day of fog and emo kids. In it was a set of two keys and a letter, full of strikeouts and erased words. The paper was a bit crumpled, as if someone had briefly considered balling it up and throwing it out, before carefully flattening it out again. A soft scent drifted up from the page, vanilla with a hint of something else... From Clarice Dear Clerise,
To whom it ******** thatHey Red, Take care, while I'm gone. Here's my no
Sorry I didn't say goodbye in person because I'm so bad at this goddamnit
Each time I try to think of what to say to you, there's just all these feelings, and I just
Alright. This isn't a love letter, okay? Don't worry about that. It's a...I don't know...a like letter. A lot letter.
Think of it as a small notice of appreciation
An I'm going to miss you and please don't die memoI apologize a lot, I know. So this time I'm just going to say thank you. This probably sounds a bit..I don't even know, but when I'm with you, when it's just the two of us I feel like... Clarice. Not H's assistant, not 2nd in command of Life, not 24-going-65. I don't hate being that person, but sometimes it gets to the point where every breath is followed by a new worry, a new demand, a new regret. The moments where I'm just Clarice, age 24, has a shitty job sometimes but things are actually pretty okay when all's said and done? They've meant a lot to me these past few months. Thank you.I'm going to miss that, and I'm going to miss you. I'm going to try not to worry, you're a capable woman, you've been through a lot and survived it all. You've gotten so much stronger since you stepped out of that pod and began challenging every more experienced hunter that crossed your path. So I'm not, absolutely not, going to worry about you. Much. Just... please be here when I get back.
Love
Yours
Best
BBLUntil then, Clarice PS: Here's the keys to my room. If you guys get the dorms cleared out and it's still in one piece, make yourself at home. I've disabled the alarm system, so you won't have to worry about it. The smaller key is to the minifridge, don't let Jerry have anything unless you want Killzone moving in with you.
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Posted: Sun May 13, 2012 1:09 am
Clerise yawned as consciousness slowly found her, uncurling from her nest made of a blanket--okay.
Let's be accurate, here.
Uncurling from her nest made of blankets, Clerise rubbed her eyes. Stealing an extra blanket had been the best idea ever, and she awarded two points to Past Clerise for thinking of such a marvellous thing.
She rolled over a little, still groggy, surprised when her elbow smashed against something that was definitely not a sheet--and it had the crunch of paper.
Boggled, Clerise picked up what would be more at home in an office of some sort-- a giant Manila envelope. It jingled, a little, and had a weight to it-- something was inside. Carefully, almost expecting a letter bomb or something equally as woeful, the trainee inspected the contents of the letter.
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Posted: Sun May 13, 2012 1:25 am
A letter. In pretty shitty shape, too, goddamn--this had been through hell and back, it looked like.
She sniffed the air, narrowing her eyes.
What was that?
Bringing the paper closer-- oh my god. Scented stationary? Really? Really?
At least it was vanilla. She fished around in the envelope before reading reading the letter, being the type of kid to ignore her dad when he said to read the card first when opening birthday presents--
Keys. Room ones. Not bulky enough to be a car, not tiny enough to be mail. Huh.
Well, now she was DEFINITELY curious. Reading time, as long as it would take.
It was not a perfect thing, to be sure. Marks from erasers and scribbled out words that were barely legible, printed nicely in handwriting that was familiar.
Not that Clerise needed any indicator as to who the sender was once she read her nickname.
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Posted: Sun May 13, 2012 1:58 am
She scanned each word carefully, red eyes narrowing as she did. She was too curious to not to try and peer at the erased and stricken out letters, attempting to discern them in the dim light. Whatever Clerise may have been expecting in a letter from Clarice, this was most certainly not it. All of these feelings.
...a like letter. A lot letter.
An I'm going to miss you and please don't die memo Clerise stopped there, to regain her bearings. This letter was awkward, incredibly sad, a tad infuriating, and far too touching for its own good. It was the last part that she didn't know how to parse. Placing it down on the bed, Clerise scooted away from the parchment, as if it might rear up and bight her in the tit like some venomous asp. Mulling it over, Clerise remained thoughtful, trying to piece together why her heart had jumped up into her throat from three simple little lines.
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Posted: Sun May 13, 2012 2:11 am
It was ******** unnerving.
She was not great at many things. That wasn't surprising to Clerise, or a let-down or anything like that. Crap at learning, passable at basic arithmetic, terrible with history outside of circus lore that was half bullshit, and the main use of her brain was for running her mouth.
But she was great sex, and she knew the part of her mind that ruled over her heart, beating the damned blood pumper into submission whether it wanted to cooperate or not. That is to say: Clerise was intimately familiar with her feelings on...
Dare she even think the word.
Relationships. Much like her relationships with people, Clerise and her emotions were casual. Completely not serious in the way that the redhead liked best. If the going ever got rough or serious or difficult-- then so did she.
Romantic interests (since the--) were disposable.
That's not to say that she was never friends with her partners. Several had been the results of friendships evolving into something more. Some had ended better than others, of course-- depending on how they took the inevitable "you're kidding, right?" when asking Clerise if she wanted anything more.
Her answer never wavered: a resounding and resolute no.
Clerise had told Dakota, in the Amazon, even when she was sure they were both probably going to die, (after all let's just be real here everyone else has we're ******** disposable)--
Even then. She had gently told him we are not a thing.
It was mildly distressing to realize that her no was quavering, like a leaf on a branch in brisk November-- and--
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Posted: Sun May 13, 2012 2:12 am
God.
She hadn't felt like this in a long, long time.
Suddenly dying for a cigarette and feeling weary, with slightly unsteady hands, Clerise picked the letter up again to read the real contents of the letter.
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Posted: Sun May 13, 2012 2:20 am
Why the ******** was Clarice thanking her?
Thinking back to the moments shared, Clerise ran her fingers through her hair, face scrunched up in trying to recall what she might have done that was out of the ordinary--
But all she could remember was too-subtle flirting on her end, leering, and warmly making fun of about everything. Of a spar gone horribly wrong that had been fantastic up until that point. Of minipets.
Of a Valentine's Day with alcohol and chocolate and a ruined little drunk man who sang to them. Of building snowmen and a special snowgirl with rainbows and a smile.
Of holding Clarice together at the seams because no one had noticed she was falling apart.
What in that was worth thanking?
Was Clarice that alone despite being surrounded by people? Were they obligations and problems (be they past or future or present) and constantly crowding in around her, suffocating? Like a noose?
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Posted: Sun May 13, 2012 2:37 am
I'm going to miss you.
Just...please be here when I get back. There was a foreign feeling behind her eyes; it made her jaw clench and it made her inhalations shaky. Clerise ignored the feelings and, instead, carefully slid the letter back into its Manila home. There was tragedy written in this, between the lines. Well, maybe not so in-between, with the "please don't die" notice at the top. Whatever it was bled through, shining out like a beacon, worried and anxious and-- Clerise grabbed the keys she had removed earlier to inspect. She fished her own out of a pocket and attached the new ones to the old before carefully tucking them safely back into place. She was stalling.
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Posted: Sun May 13, 2012 2:46 am
Clerise was stalling from thinking, because the more that she did, the more she realised: her answer was not a steadfast no.
There was nothing to even say no to, but her traitorous mind had decided to pulse in harmony with her even more traitorous heart.
She was not in love. That would be foolish; Clerise barely knew her. No, there was nothing so ridiculous or overblown about her feelings for Clarice.
It was simply the fact that she had any at all.
They were friends. Comrades. Allies. Team-mates. Subordinate and mentor.
Clerise had seen her sleepy smile and her grim one (blood everywhere, down her forehead, matted in hair), her nervous one and one that was genuine and true and a little bit sad.
Stray blonde locks tucked behind an ear, the explanation of mechanics both complex and fantastical in equal measures.
Clarice Sinclaire had wormed her way into Clerise Wilson's heart.
"That b***h."
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