[open] and when i wake up you'll be here

[laruetheday]

WHO: Clarisse
WHAT: Arrival + some quarantine stuff
WHEN: Now, ig
WHERE: Ferelden somewhere + the Gallows
NOTES: n/a

Arrival

Weird dreams are a near nightly thing for demigods, so Clarisse doesn't bat an eye when she finds herself waiting for the elevator at the top of the Empire State Building in her basketball uniform, other than to wonder what kind of weird symbolism it is and hope that it's not going to interfere with her midterms. Even when the doors open and she steps in and lands on nothing but empty air, she manages not to scream. It all happens too fast, anyway.

Clarisse only has time to think, oh shit, and then she hits the dirt hard. The breath gets punched out of her chest and she wheezes pitifully, wondering since when her dreams are realistic enough to hurt. She rolls onto her back, wipes at the dirt on her chin, and finds herself staring up at something she can't comprehend, much less identify. The air looks... torn open, and through the jagged green split, she can see patches of concrete and red rocks.

The view is interrupted by something moving—something humanoid but elongated, with a grin that spreads too far in each direction. That's comprehendible. She's not sure what she's looking at, specifically, but she knows bad news when she sees it. Clarisse pushes off the ground at a run, angling herself away from the whatever-the-fuck-that-thing-is and trying to put some distance between her and it.

Quarantine - Dining Hall

At least the food here looks... pretty normal. She should be thankful for that.

Clarisse is in the dining hall, sitting straight backed and uncomfortable and pushing a piece of beef (probably?) around with a fork. She looks a little bit miserable, but what else is new? Push, push, push. The fork never seems to actually make it to her mouth.

Finally, she can't stand it anymore, and says to whoever's nearby: "Is there a place around here I can make an offering?"

Quarantine - Training Yard

Maybe she'd been slacking off on training a little bit, before she'd fallen out of the fucking sky, but that's over. If anything, the practice gives Clarisse a sense of familiarity, even while she's stuck in a place that's the complete opposite. She knows the moves. She's done them almost every day, for years. Doesn't matter where she is.

For anyone who happens to walk by and see her, it's clear that Clarisse is no beginner with the spear. She handles it with practiced ease, and it seems like she'd have no problem showing anybody else what it's like to be on the other end of Maimer's barbed tip. But when she does notice somebody watching, Clarisse only gives them a terse nod.

"You waiting for the space?"

Comments

[laruetheday]

Clarisse's eyebrows furrow. Zombies. A fungus that eats your brain. It sounds like some shit right out of a movie, but she can tell Ellie isn't kidding. Her eyes briefly dart down to look at Ellie's hand, then away again.

"Shit. Guess it would."

[notathreat]

Ellie catches the glance, shrugs one shoulder up.

"Hot water, food, and a war we actually have a chance at winning? I'll take the other weird shit any day."

She takes the mare's halter rope and thumps it into Clarisse's chest.

"Here. You might as well name her."

[laruetheday]

"Wha—"

The rope hits her in the chest, and she fumbles for it before managing to grab it. Did Ellie just give her a horse? She doesn't want it. She's pretty sure it's not even Ellie's to give to her, or to tell her to name. Like, it probably already has one.

"Potato." It's the first, dumbest thing that popped into her head. Mostly she just wants Ellie to veto it and take the halter back.

[notathreat]

If it has a name, then the horse's last owner didn't share it. Ellie shrugs; hell, it's not her horse to name or give away. But she lives here in Riftwatch and they need something to call her.

Ellie snorts, not bothering to hide her smile, and crosses her arms over her chest, lifting her shoulders.

"There's already a griffon named Potato. Sorry."

[laruetheday]

"Shit."

Can't have two Potatoes running around, that's true. Clarisse looks more closely at the mare, really sizing her up. Several seconds pass while she thinks it over.

"Okay," she says with a sigh, like there's just no way this can be helped. (Also, it's Ellie's fault.) She gives the horse a brisk, affectionate pat on the neck. "You're a good girl, Limp Bizkit."

[notathreat]

Ellie makes a disgusting bastard noise between a laugh and a honk in the back of her throat, reaching up to cover her mouth, but her eyes are shining when she looks at her, and she does not throw out that perfect name, thank you.

"Best girl," she says, her voice tight.

[laruetheday]

"Oh, yeah," Clarisse says, grinning and continuing to just... be terrible. As she often does. "I am, aren't I."

Clarisse La Rue, daughter of Ares, slayer of the Lydian drakon, namer of unfortunate horses.

[notathreat]

Ellie quite obviously and visibly bites back a laugh. Of course, there's no saving it. But she tries.

"I obviously meant the horse."