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 Posted: Fri Sep 07, 2012 12:22 am
The first breath was always the easiest. Functions have come back online and everything else is clockwork. Then her mind catches up with the habits and expectations formed through months and months of other. The first sound she makes after waking is a strangled choking followed by soft, painful coughs. It takes several minutes for her to push open the pod's chamber door, panting and breathless, eyes squinting in confusion at the soft darkness of the room, gently lit with electric blue runes. Shaking, she stumbles out and winces as her bare feet make awkward, painful contact with the cold floors. Somewhere, underneath the almost thoughtless, animal confusion, she knows she should wait until she reorients herself.
Instead, with shuffling imbalance, she takes one step, and another, then again, until she is opening the door and is assaulted with a world that is cold and alien and quite simply terrible.
The bright lights are too bright. The floors are shining and clean and hard and cold oh so cold. White smooth walls. With a shaking breath, she tries to take it all in, and it's like an awful dream. This world...why was she even...why would she...
It would be better outside. It had to be. This was her...
Bracing herself again the wall, she notices her hand, with it's pale, washed-out skin and dull, blunted nails. She jerks away, and resolutely avoids looking at herself again. The body just as alien and unwanted as the world.
It was the middle of the night or very early morning. Nobody was in her path and that was very likely for the best, but it didn't help to soften this world's impression. Even after pushing open the doors and stepping out into the fog-ridden darkness, the air still felt wrong as it slipped through her lips and filtered down into fragile pink lungs. Human lungs. At least they were real and not...
Closing her eyes, she walked across the grass, ignoring the desire to simply lay down it. This world was better. It was cleaner (artificial) and more efficient (artificial) and convenient (artificial) and...
This was better, this was her...
She made the mistake of opening her eyes and looking down at her feet and they were so, so wrong...
Another trembling breath and then she was moving again. She'd have to deal with this soon, but not here, just get to her...
Room.
And then she'd be...
Forever minutes later and she was outside her door and staring at it confused incomprehension. What was she doing here? What was this...who...
No. That was a question to be asked never, why would she do that to herself and now of all times?
She was who she was and that's all she needed to be. No more questions.
Swallowing dryly she pulled out the keys and quietly, so quietly (why are we being careful) unlocked the door and slipped in. A bone-deep exhaustion pulled at her, willing her to simply fall into the bed she knew waited, but is would simply make tomorrow that much worse. And more, it would be weak. This needed to be done, and so she trailed her hand along the bedroom wall until it met another door. Her paradise and now her crucible. No that was...that was overly dramatic, really, this was nothing really, how hard could it be...
As she switched on the bathroom's light, she averted her gaze and silently cursed herself for it. Glancing away, her eyes landed on splash of red across her bed. Strong, graceful lines and limbs shifted sinuously and Clarice let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. The sense of here, now, I am welled up within her. She was home.
And somehow that was so much more daunting than what awaited her in the bathroom's light, and so between that breath and the next, she was inside and leaning against the door closed behind her, and staring straight ahead. A pale ghost of a woman stared blankly back and grimaced.
"Damnit."
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Posted: Fri Sep 07, 2012 12:37 am
She'd never made it out to Halloween. There had been intentions and plans and desires, but hitting intermediate status had come with a plethora of new duties-- and some raised expectations. Plus, there had been a destruction slash invasion, and some kidnapping, and--
Well. Clerise had never managed.
Her communication with Clarice had been tenuous at best, a stream of texts sent in stream-of-consciousness manners, knowing that the other woman couldn't read them THEN, but that she WOULD.
It wasn't enough, but Clerise was okay with the table scraps until the real deal got home. She had cleaned religiously a few days prior, careful to leave the bathroom in exactly the same state she'd left it, save for a few additions of her own. Different body wash, different bubbles. A slew of make-up at the sink that had escaped the initial ziploc bag she'd stored it all in, mixing with Clarice's freely.
A rubber duck precariously balanced on the rim of the tub. Punky carefully taking a sliver of Clarice's closet.
The changes were small on their own, and it was without thinking that Clerise moved in. She'd gently nudged things to the side, gingerly, until she was comfortable in the Life Assistant's room.
Had carved out a slice of home.
And then the door opens, and the redhead shifts, brought out from idle dreams. She stretches out, limbs loose like a jungle cat's. Blinking languidly, red eyes dart to the light creeping out from under the bathroom door. Her head is heavy and fuzzy with sleep, and for a moment, she doesn't move.
The slightest of knots form in her chest, twisting into anxiety. Her heart rate accelerates. Her fingers clutch the sheets, carefully so.
"MMm. Miss lady, that you?" Clerise's voice is raspy, and the woman rolls over on the bed and wrapping herself up in a sheet in one fell moment. "Otherwise, I think me and like, whoever you are, could toootally use a talk about. Privacy. Or something."
Staggering over to the door, the redhead slumps against the wall near it, heart caught in her throat. Fingers curl against her palms, white sliver moons cutting into the skin there with the force of them. Clerise hears her curse, and lets out a heavy exhalation of her own.
She's home, she's home, she's home.
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Posted: Fri Sep 07, 2012 12:44 am
The creature in the mirror slides slowly to the floor, and answers, voice faint and breathless, "Hey..."
Her mind shifts back to that splash of colour against her sheets. That one point of vibrant, honest life, that told her this world was real and hers.
"Hey, Red."
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Posted: Fri Sep 07, 2012 12:43 pm
Clerise smiles, and it's sleepy and lazy and warm. Her fingers itch, and there's a swarm of words that die in her throat. So all she does is hoist the sheet up again and step into the bathroom, one cautious step after another.
Her feet are quiet against the tile, an alarming contrast to the thudding of blood in her veins, rushing like a river.
"It's you," she breathes, a touch of awe in her voice, and she closes the distance to pull Clarice close, tucking her face against the other woman's neck, arms encircling her waist. And Clerise smiles, and smiles, and smiles.
"Welcome back." Welcome home.
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Posted: Sun Sep 09, 2012 11:35 pm
And suddenly the creature in the mirror was a tangle of limbs and smiles, freckles and fluttering hands. Clarice stares at their reflection and the knot of alien unease loosens further, her own pale skin and light hair somehow less offensive and upsetting when reflected against the other woman's. Face nestled against the soft red fall of hair (longer now and oh the scent and oh this was home) she brought her hands up Clerise's sides, tentative and unsure. She couldn't say if several months was a long time to go without being held or hugged by another human being, or a fairly short time, just that this was something Clarice hadn't understood she needed until the affectionate warmth of other huntress was wrapping itself around her.
"Yeah," she answered, voice catching, "...it's me. Sorry I woke you...the time difference and...being in this body again is a bit...um, awkward." But nowhere near what she had feared. Not anymore. The woman in the mirror smiled hesitantly back at her, all cautious hope and softly stumbling words.
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Posted: Mon Sep 10, 2012 6:44 pm
It's like breathing freely for the first time in the clean summer air-- no, it's like holding your fingers over a candle flame, small and in need of nurturing, and Clerise just hums contently in the back of her throat, like a wild animal soothed by touch, the thud of Clarice's heartbeat steadysteadysteady--
The redhead inhales deeply, and even if Clarice smells of musty books and chemicals, she's still Miss Lady. She's still Clarice.
"S'kay," Clerise murmurs, breath warm on Clarice's neck. With great regret, she pulls away, not entirely, but to an appropriate distance, to the distance a friend would be in--
"You're always awkward. You gonna take a bath, or just come to bed?"
It shouldn't be so easy to ask it. Like it's theirs.
But it is.
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Posted: Mon Sep 10, 2012 11:43 pm
Clarice has barely manages to keep herself from leaning back into the other woman's warmth, and instead tilts her head back against the wall with a sigh, She wanted to just curl up and around Clerise and simply exist again. She wants to lay down in her own bed for the first time in months and actually sleep. Sleeping was hardly even necessary for a golem body, and a pale, restless thing for the human mind.
Another sigh and she murmured ruefully, "Bath. I feel...dusty, and I need to reacquaint myself with this body again." A soft, frustrated sound, "Hate long term missions. Everything is always so..." a limp, helpless gesture, "...wrong. Except you." A small, crooked smile followed this admission, "I didn't expect..."
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Posted: Tue Sep 11, 2012 12:26 am
She laughs, just a soft puff of air and with it comes a smile, and a slight wrinkling of her nose, playful in its mockery. "You smell like it, too. Like a bookstore. One of the old ones, in hip college towns and used books. And baristas in the connected coffee shop."
Clerise gently tugs the other woman towards the bath, drawing it for her. Clarice looks drained, weary and nearly boneless, like standing there is the most exhausting thing she's ever done. "Better you than me," is all the redhead says, but it's kind of said in a way that doesn't imply that at all, like Clerise might think better anyone than Clarice instead.
"Oh," she says, pouring in way too much bubblebath, not even caring, waggling her eyebrows at Clarice in one fell swoop, a flurry of connecting actions that melt from one into another into another--
"I'm always wrong."
She doesn't let go of Clarice, keeps an arm secured around her middle, just in case-- just in case!-- and gives her Miss Lady a smile, can't resist running a hand through blonde hair, pushing it back some, the ghost of a touch around the shell of her ear, swiping down to the hollow of her throat.
She doesn't ask for clarification, and lets the bath fill.
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Posted: Thu Sep 13, 2012 2:33 pm
Eyes closing at the touch, Clarice let her head rest in the crook of the other woman's neck, inhaling softly and smiling, "Well you smell nice." A gentle echo of the last time Clerise had supported and comforted her like this. It should be irritating, after so many years of going out of her way not to accept this sort of thing from anyone. This was a show of weakness, this was going to hurt her and...
She inhales again, leaning into the redhead's touch, and her eyes flutter open, "Thank you."
She can't bring herself to resent or fear the desire for what this woman gave her. It's not that she's lost the anxiety that had dogged at her heels since she was six and discovery that nothing and no one would ever be able to protect her from the hungry things that stalked through the night. The knowledge that everyone will fail and disappoint her and leave her alone to hurt, that the only one who could stay forever was herself and later, her weapon. Everything else was transient.
It's just that...
Maybe it would be okay, anyways.
For now.
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Posted: Thu Sep 13, 2012 6:42 pm
Clerise lays her cheek against the crown of Clarice's head, nuzzling her like a cat. "It's a good thing we're using my bubblebath, then, isn't it?" she asks, smiling, hand slipping away from Clarice's clavicle to test the water, her chest full of something warm and light.
And she smiles, eyebrows coming down, bemused and entertained all at once. Red eyes meet blue, and the smile grows sweeter, something soft and intangible and it's too much all at once, and it threatens to overwhelm her. To be thanked for looking after someone who spent so much time looking after other people. To be thanked for being there.
She doesn't do it out of any obligation. She wants to, more than anything. She wants her smiles and frowns and laughs and she wants it so much that it threatens to drown her, because after months of being at bay, it threatens to spill over.
{[ ...Like a prayer for which no words exist, ]} Balthazar murmurs, introspective. {[ And you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for. ]}
Her weapon puts it better than she can.
Clerise swipes her thumb along Clarice's hip-- brief and fleeting. "You don't have to thank me," Clerise breathes, shutting the water off. "I waited--" for you. I'd wait again. I'd wait not forever, but a long, long time.
She doesn't know how to continue, so she plucks a little at Clarice's clothes. " You should get out of these," Her voice echoes in the cavern that is Clarice's bathroom. "You've been wearing them for what, two months? Three?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 04, 2012 12:19 am
Every small, soft touch felt like a wrinkle of tension being smoothed away. And Clerise had waited...how long had it been since someone had waited for her without an agenda (H) or a tragedy waiting in the wings (Ben...and everyone else...maybe here too...stop) but with quiet warmth and comfort and home?
With a small, distracted nod, Clarice moved back from the other woman and absently slipped out of the stale, slightly dusty clothes. With a small wry smile, she looked up to comment on their state and then froze, caught in her own bare, unforgiving reflection. This pale, washed-out creature of bone and stingy, ill-fitting curves. Eventually her eyes break away, lips flattening into a tight line. She grasped the edge of the tub in a hard grip, more from the need to take out this frustration on something, anything, than for support. "Sorry...I'm not...it may be awhile until I'm..." she trailed off, unsure of what how to explain how entirely lacking she is right now.
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Posted: Tue Dec 18, 2012 5:39 pm
Clarice's thoughts are still so far away, locked into a golem that's dust by now, the disconnect between body and mind clear like a warm summer day.
But she's waited this long. What's a day, a week, a month? Clerise has as long as this world will afford her, and it will certainly be long enough to help Clarice sidle back towards this side of normal.
Without thinking, the normally vivacious woman averts her eyes, her cheeks flushing slightly. She had seen Clarice in various states of undress-- when she was here before, for the sauna, back on Valentine's Day. During the girl's night in turned pizza war.
But it was different, now, and Clerise feels as though she is intruding, upon something without a name, something uncomfortable and private. She glances to Clarice, lips turning down, and you simply press your palm to the base of her neck, dragging it slowly down the curve of her spine without a word.
"Apologising," Clerise says, voice halting and hesitant and. Clerise, who talks a mile a minute, faster than most, a comment for everything and.
"You don't need to."
The other woman's line of vision was clear. She was staring down someone in the mirror who didn't fit, who wasn't right. Gently, the redhead tugged one of Clarice's hands away from the tub, pressing her lips to Clarice's wrist, where pulse would be there, fluttering.
She doesn't say anything, for a moment. Breathes in, breathes out. Time stretches onward.
"It's been lonely."
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