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Clerise sat on her shared bed, reading (ugh) up on some ancient mythologies, having pestered Dwight half to death so he'd get it for her. Grecian s**t, real intense, but after her...dream about basically being a cooler shadow than she had any right to be, Clerise had some serious self-improvement to be doing.

The knock brought company, which was honestly a welcome reprieve from tiny text rambling on and on about Ancient Gods and how nobody really knew jack s**t about it and it was pretty clear Mark had done this research. He'd probably used the small text to spite people.

Clerise rolled off the bed, landing on the ground with an oomph, and debated the merits of crawling to the door instead of making the effort to stand.

...Which she did. The huntress opened the door, looking up at Otto for possibly the first (and probably the last) time in her life.

"...Sup."

"No, they're just sort of asleep." She whined a little, scooting backwards to let Otto come in. "No, that sounds a lot like effort. I don't feel like putting forth any effort at all, right now."

Clerise was an intermediate trainee, okay. She was twenty five years old and she did what she wanted. Therefore, she blew Otto a raspberry, like a mature individual did.

"What brings you to the Clerise'n'Clarice abode, Prodigy?"

At the mention of girls, Clerise jumped up, a new fire lighting up in her eyes. She steepled her fingers, grinning nefariously. "Girls, Otto? You better fill me in, and one of those girls better be Evie."

She had a lot of feels about her Prodigy, and while some of them involved cuddling him so tight until his head popped off, the rest involved stupid and sappy s**t. Like, you know. His happiness, or whatever.

"Isn't it always?" Clerise asked, her smile turning a little lopsided, and she flung an arm around his shoulders as he talked. Nevada was a name she didn't recognise much, beyond the fact that she existed and was like, in Mist or something? Inferior division, in Clerise's mind, but every division was after Life.

And then she stayed silent, save for a little humming beneath her breath. "So, it's tricky, huh? Do you go for the girl that digs you back, or do you go for the girl you like a lot?" She pulled away, for a moment, tapping her chin as she thought.

"If you go with the girl who likes you, it's not going to be enough. You're going to think about Eva, and she's going to get put on a pedestal that you'll compare Nevada to. You won't know how it would have gone down with Eva, so your mind will take you places. Places that are fantastical and perfect, if you let it, and there's no way a real girl can live up to that, you know?"

She squinted at Otto, a little. "But on the other hand, if you confess to Eva, you might end up in a super awkward friendzone. You say she treats you like a kid, but have you made any real indication to her that there's something possible for the two of you, beyond the relationship you already have?"

Clerise grinned. "Because, uh. Listen. I love Evie, not as much as you do, but a good deal. And that girl's head is soaring clear up in the clouds, you know what I mean? Unless you practically shout it from the rooftops, she won't get any hints."

The huntress took the pause to breathe, having just talked a little too much about feels she was a little familiar with.

"It comes down to this: do you want to take the safe route, and live in doubt? Or do you take a leap of faith?"

Clerise beamed: this was the Prodigy she knew, teeming with pride as he stated that he wanted to take the leap of faith. For being so young, he had seen so much. The apocalypse, countless disasters, near-death experiences, horrible torture, extended captivity, and so much more. His coming of age story was unlike most: his had thrust him into a role of responsibility and ferocity more than anything else in the world could.

But even though Otto was tough of body and mind, he was fragile of heart. He didn't trust easy, and kept his cards dealt close to his chest. But when it came down to it? Otto was many things, but he was not a coward.

"Scary s**t, right?" Clerise said, utterly grave, eyes softening into something warmer, perhaps mutual understanding. "You put yourself out on the line, peeling back the protective exterior, and you reveal this small little fragile thing, your heart, your adoration, and flutters like a butterfly's wings, yeah? It's delicate and you're afraid, afraid of what you don't know and what you think you do know. You're full of suspicion and paranoia but above it all, wrapped around everything is this thin layer of hope. Hoping they feel the same, that they want the same thing as you, and with shaking hands you ask them to take your love, and you try to play it tough but it never stops being terrifying, because it's the sort of thing that swallows you whole, it's what washes over you like a tidal wave. You ask them to stick their fingers into your open chest cavity and take that affection and make it theirs, to keep it safe, and you trust them with it and they can hurt you but you want them to know it as well as you do. And then after THAT, after they accept it, you ask them to do the same damn thing that you just did."

She stopped, and looked sort of sheepish, rubbing the back of her head with a hand. "But it's worth it. Sometimes they take it and they crush it, and it takes a long time to recover. It hurts, and it never stops hurting, in a way, just other things cover up the pain. It leaves a hole in your chest, sometimes it keeps you up at night. But...Sometimes they treat it good, and they give you theirs, and you are happy and you hold on until they're gone and dead and nothing's left but a memory."

Clerise took Otto by the shoulders, shaking them lightly. "But you do it. If it doesn't work out, then you pick up the pieces and stitch yourself back together and move on, because nothing is worse than not knowing. Nothing. Regret is a hungry monster and it will feed on your guilt and your longing and your want. Trust me, dude. You have the nerve already, don't give me any of that s**t. Tell her. You could bring her something nice, or just tell her face to face with nothing else, or take her out somewhere, but that's the presentation that wraps you up in crinkling paper and a ribbon."

Poking Otto in the chest, the Life huntress raised a brow. "It all boils down to you. This. Otto Graves, Death Hunter. Otto Graves, loyal friend. Otto Graves, drummer. Otto Graves, buyer of two ******** thousand or however many plushes. Otto Graves, who has feelings for Eva Valente, who might have feelings for you too."

She had loved and she had lost and she had gone unfulfilled and had regretted and she would not trade any of it for the world. Her life had carved her to life, had put her together in the correct configuration. Clerise thought of her fragment self, thought of the shadow who had murdered for fun and poisoned for pleasure: the same pieces, but an entirely different person.

Otto blushed, and her face split into a wide smile, open and honest and utterly her. She held up her hand for a fist bump without another word.

Clerise pulled him into a quick hug afterwards, resisting the urge to smooth his hair or something else equally mother hennish. "Want to go terrorize minipets for a while? I've got minipet duty, could always use some company."