PLAYER PLOT | Forgetti Catchall, now in the right comm

[wythersake]

WHO: Ennaris Tavane, Julius, Bastien, Viktor, Clarisse La Rue + OTA
WHAT: Strangers arrive at the Gallows.
WHEN: A week in Haring.
WHERE: The Gallows / elsewhere
NOTES: Check out this OOC Post for details.

This is a catchall post for threads with or about the forgotten characters plot. Feel free to thread about it elsewhere as well!

• OOC Info
• Rookery Post

 

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clarisse party

[laruetheday]

(( gonna do a couple open prompts too, but in the meantime, if anyone wants something in particular, hmu on plurk! ))

abby

[laruetheday]

They're allowed into the Gallows. Kind of. Barely. It feels like being allowed into the mall, but followed at a distance the entire time because security thinks you're stealing shit. (Has that ever happened to Clarisse? Maybe.)

One wrong move, and you're out.

She waits until no one seems to be watching her, and then she walks into the tower and climbs the stairs to the fourth floor. It's all housing up here, and she doesn't expect to run into anyone in the middle of the work day. She still has her room key, and though she's half-expecting it not to work, it slides in easily and unlocks with a soft click.

Her room. Her stuff. Still here.

It looks like she never even left, just as she remembers it being. The sight of her bed and her things fills her with a crashing wave of relief, but it's not enough. Not if she can't trust her own memory. She hurries to the bed and crawls half-underneath it to find what she's looking for.

[armd]

It's never a great time to return to your room in search of some particular book and find the door open slightly, unlocked, not at all the way you left it—

If Wags were with her Abby would have sent him, hackles raised, in first to investigate the audible and unmistakable sound of things being lifted and moved aside, but it's only her. She softens her footsteps and pushes the door the rest of the way open with her fingertips, tipping her body around the frame and inside, reaching automatically for a engraved knife on a low table—

The intruder is on the floor, half underneath the bed. Legs sticking out and everything.

It shouldn't make Abby falter, but it does. Cuz it's weird.

"Um — hey. What the fuck are you doing?"

[laruetheday]

She's not expecting anybody, and the sound of Abby's voice makes her jerk in surprise and smack her head against the bottom of the bed. But she has what she came here for, so she wriggles back out the way she came and quickly gets to her feet, the sketchbook clasped to her chest with both hands.

Her heart feels like it's about to pound out of her chest all of a sudden. "Abby, what are you doing here?"

She takes a closer look, her eyebrows furrowing. "In my jacket."

[armd]

Oh, god. It's her, that girl who called her by name on the crystals. Abby stares at her, the squinting, incredulous look on her face, and drops her gaze down to find what she's got clutched in both arms.

"This is my room. That's my book—"

She's momentarily rendered speechless by the audacity before she slams her teeth shut, brow furrowing. Calmly, "You've got five seconds to drop my shit and get the hell out of here. Not gonna ask again."

benedict

[laruetheday]

The griffons might not know her anymore, but the key to her office still works. How's that for confusing?

Clarisse waits until she figures everyone will be finished with paperwork for the day before she lets herself into the office. It's not like she spends a ton of time in here, so there isn't much, but she just needs some paperwork with her name on it. Something. Anything that will prove to herself that she's not crazy, that this was all real.

Of course she's barely stepped inside when the office door next to hers opens. Clarisse freezes mid-step, looking guilty as hell, even though she hasn't done anything wrong. Right? Right.

[altusimperius]

"Um?"

Benedict peers at her, narrow-eyed and suspicious, not a trace of jest in his tone.

"Can I help you?"

[laruetheday]

Even with that look Benedict's giving her, a little of the tension leaves Clarisse's shoulders. She can handle him.

"Nope. Move along." There we go. Handled.

And before he can say anything else, she's walking into her office and heading straight for the desk.

[altusimperius]

His little incredulous gasp is punctuated by Clarisse walking through the door, but he doesn't let her get away with it-- he follows after her, putting his hand out in warning.

"Get out," he growls, his palm beginning to glow slightly.

julius

[laruetheday]

Swept up in the drama of whatever's going on with Cedric, Clarisse doesn't really clock that Julius is gone until it's too late to do anything about it. It's only after she's back on the dock, soaked, shivering, and in pain, that she realizes. It doesn't exactly help her mood.

They don't let them into the Gallows, of course. The dockside apartments are offered instead, while their friends and colleagues try and figure out whether they're the shittiest Venatori spies in the world. Clarisse paces around near the entrance, fuming. She needs to get in there. She has to.

So when Julius makes his reappearance, he doesn't get far before she stops him.

"Where have you been?"

[overharrowed]

It is deeply unusual to see Julius shaken. (Not unheard of; those who can remember impressions of the timeline where he was one of the few survivors of Granitefell may have an inkling. Even so.)

"I said I was going..." He'd been about to say home, but that snags at something when he's not sure he's ever called it that out loud before. Now doesn't seem like the time to start. Instead, he amends to, "I was going to let Mme de Cedoux and the Commander know I was well, since we'd been out of touch. Given that I was told to meet the rest of you here, I assume you're not going to be surprised at the lack of welcome I received."

He's getting a grip on himself and, oddly, Clarisse's rude tone is sort of helping. Someone has to work the problem instead of losing their head. Still, he's not fully there yet, so freshly off of where he's been and what he's seen.

[laruetheday]

Normally Clarisse might see how rattled Julius is and curb her own behavior accordingly, but today that doesn't happen. Because she's freaking out, too, and it's becoming obvious that none of them, not even Julius or Bastien (where the fuck is Bastien, anyway?) know how to fix this.

"Cedric decided to take it on himself to keep us from getting to the Gallows," she says. "It would have been nice to have, I don't know, backup."

On second glance, Clarisse does look like there was some kind of... scuffle at the docks. There's a bruise already darkening on one cheek, and her hair has a telltale waviness to it, like she got it wet and then let it air dry again without brushing.

"I didn't start it," she adds, sensing that might be Julius's first question.

[overharrowed]

"I didn't assume you had." It was easy to picture his own reunion manque going violently sideways, with a few variables slightly different.

(In a world where he was less upset himself, there might have been an attempt at a joke about Templars and guarding entryways. But he can't manage it just now.)

"I told you where I was going, and when we parted ways, none of us knew anything was wrong other than the sending crystal malfunction. Was anyone injured seriously?" Not to dismiss the black eye, but she's in good enough shape to be on her feet and berating him, so. Worse than that, presumably.

as discussed, lmk if you need adjustments

[inmycare]

Siegfried has started taking the griffons down to the training yard, one at a time, to get them used to him and to take the opportunity to become more familiar with them in good health. He's scrupulous about taking them each out the same number of times, to avoid accusations of favoritism, though it's inevitable that he'll connect with some more than others.

(He'd discussed his intentions with Clarisse before he'd started, pitching the benefits for taking care of ill or injured griffons in the future. Not that he knows that now, presumably.)

Today it's Artichoke Siegfied has out. Once he's learned that he'll be rewarded, Artichoke is generally willing to stand still and let Siegfried run his hands over his wings and flanks, though he's not afraid to impatiently nudge the doctor if he takes too long about it. Today, the griffon glances up at someone's approach, alert but not alarmed. Siegfried follows his gaze. "Ah. Hello."

There's no recognition in the look from the man or the griffon, though at least neither of them are hostile either.

[laruetheday]

Not being met with active hostility is an improvement, honestly.

Clarisse swallows and slows in her approach. She's not planning on turning around—the training yard, at least, is a familiar constant whether Riftwatch remembers her or not, and the training dummies don't give her suspicious looks, either—but now she feels a little awkward about being here.

Siegfried wasn't her friend, though. Just a colleague. This doesn't have to be weird...er than any interaction she'd have with him on a normal day.

"Hey." She gives him a curt nod, and then adds, "Hey, Artie." She's beyond expecting anything other than what she gets, which is a long stare from the griffon.

[inmycare]

Guessing the griffon's name is a wild called shot to make, especially since Siegfried is aware he hasn't said the griffon's name aloud recently enough for her to have possibly overheard. It's unsettling, a bit, even with the context of who she must be.

"I take it you're one of the presumed Riftwatch agents whom none of us remember." Which is, in fairness, a more charitable view of the situation than a lot of the Gallows has taken. On the other hand, Siegfried is relatively new. Maybe he hasn't yet cultivated his paranoia to quite as fine a pitch. Either way, he adds, "I'm afraid you have the advantage of me; Dr. Siegfried Farnon, and you've divined that this is Artichoke."

While he wouldn't know the term, customer service voice might come to mind for her: warm but in a way you'd use with a stranger. (It may be exactly that, in fact, since his business depended on client relationships before he came to Riftwatch.)

wildcard!! location up to you

[brennvin]

It’s hard to know exactly how to prove these new arrivals right or wrong. But with the Gallows having suffered demonic impersonators just earlier this year, they’re taking reasonable precautions.

One of those precautions is Astrid-shaped: not as big as Clarisse herself, but scrappy enough and well-trained enough to hold her own if they did have to fight.

The newcomers have been set up in the dockside apartments; not locked up in the cells, but not given complete free rein around the organisation either. The project rooms have reports on sensitive topics, there’s mysterious magical artifacts, there’s years’ worth of secrets, there’s the priceless eluvian on lock.

So they usually have someone from the organisation trailing along, politely keeping watch. At one point they’d been joined by Noose, that shaggy old husky; he doesn’t look at Clarisse with any recognition, but still gave a tired friendly lick of her hand.

(It doesn’t mean anything. He’s always friendly with strangers.)

The woman supposedly named Clarisse already had an opportunity to slyly check on her belongings and now she’s roaming elsewhere. Astrid is tagging along; not in the way of a friend walking side-by-side, but annoyingly keeping a few steps behind, just like a dog trailing the other woman’s heels.

She tries to look casual, though, hands shoved in her pockets. They both know she’s watching Clarisse. It’s awkward.

[laruetheday]

At this point, Clarisse is operating out of sheer spite. Does she need to be walking all over the Gallows? No, of course not. Is a sick part of her enjoying the fact that she's forcing Astrid to trail behind her on the most pointless walk ever? Yes.

Right now, they're heading for the eyrie, but she's taking the longest, most impractical route to get there. The griffons don't remember her either—Clarisse has already been nipped, scratched, and screamed at enough to get the hint—but she's still drawn to them anyway. She earned their trust once, she can do it again.

"This is really stupid, you know," she can't help saying over her shoulder as the two of them weave around the training yard in a big circle. "None of us have done anything wrong."

[brennvin]

“Yeh, I know.” The hunter sounds cheerful enough, amiable enough, despite the completely unnecessary detours she’s been led on, around and around and around. It helps that she likes the movement and doesn’t mind the physical activity, essentially going on a surreal walk together, banishing some of her restless energy and going up and down the stairs. Everyone’s in a weird mood this week: strained and uncertain what to do about the newcomers. They can’t trust them, but what do they do with them?

If they were infiltrators, wouldn’t it have been easier to just pretend to be new recruits? Several of them have shards. But the whole thing’s above Astrid’s paygrade, anyway —

“S’pose that’s why you’re not actually in the cells. Now that I’m saying you should be in the cells, just,” she backpedals, finishing lamely, “y’know. Ne-cess-ary pre-cau-tions.”

She delivers that phrase with the inflection of someone who heard it emphasised very strongly at a morning division briefing.

barrow

[laruetheday]

Following the confrontation in the doorway to her office, Clarisse walks down to the docks to wait for the next ferry.

This isn't a permanent retreat, she's not giving up, but today has hurt her feelings enough times in a row to make her want to disappear into Kirkwall for at least the next several hours. Maybe a day or two. Then she'll regroup, probably.

As she waits, she sees Barrow. The stitches on his cheek are still visible, the stitches she gave him, and it makes her jaw tighten up. She can't bring herself to say hi to him and get treated with suspicion in return, so she just jerks her head in a stiff nod instead, then crosses her arms and looks out at the harbor.

[thereneverwas]

Barrow's off for the day, and it's been a weird fucking day, which means it's time to seek refuge across the harbor in pub food and shit whiskey.
The nod he gets from the unfamiliar girl yields a smirk of gentle confusion, and he looks back at her.

"You joining up?" he asks easily, "or you one a' them?" Them, obviously, being the insistent bunch who claim to live here already. He doesn't really mind either way.

[laruetheday]

"One a' them," she says dully, mimicking his voice but without any bite to it. "Don't worry. I'm done trying to convince people to remember me right now, so we can skip all that shit."

Even though it's sooo tempting to ask who did those stitches. She's gonna resist.

sticks leg back in here

[armd]

Initially, Abby is more than happy to ignore their new group of 'recruits' because she's decided she doesn't have time for them — it's only when everybody else seems to accept them being there that she starts to relent out of curiousity. That and the things in her room that don't belong to her... didn't she agree to letting them use half of her room for storage? She doesn't remember ever being asked, but surely that's what happened. It can't actually have something to do with the girl who kept insisting on knowing her, right?

Three days into the disturbance she goes looking for Clarisse on purpose.

"Hey." She's in the dining hall. The group that came in with her are allowed to walk around unencumbered by security — they've been cleared. They aren't dangerous. Abby stops in front of her. "Can I talk to you?"

[laruetheday]

Clarisse looks up from her plate at the sound of Abby's voice, and for a split second she can't help but feel hopeful.

She can tell herself the truth of the situation over and over but it doesn't erase the fact that she misses Abby so much it makes her feel sick. She hates taking the ferry across the harbor at the end of each day and crawling into bed in the dockside apartments, and going to sleep knowing Abby isn't lying in a bed across the room from her. She hates waking up and eating breakfast without her. She hates that every time she walks onto the training yard she thinks about her.

But the look on Abby's face is, while maybe not as hostile as it was last time they saw each other, still guarded. It still looks like she's talking to a stranger. Clarisse's stomach sinks and she feels herself going tense all over.

"What is it?" Get it over with.

[armd]

Abby folds her arms across her chest.

Yeah she wants to know more now that she's interested but she doesn't want to get snapped at either; Clarisse looks like she's ready to have another fight.

"Relax," she says and takes a seat, propping her elbows up on the table between them. "I just wanna ask you something." With the full knowledge that she may not even get an answer, "You said you already know me. Can you prove it?"

She should have asked this from the start. It's basically the same as the demon invasion when they were all vetting each other across the crystals so everybody could be vouched for. Security question.