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don't yell 🍀 don't laugh 🍀 don't think 🍀 don't speak
DON'T SAVE ME DON'T SAVE ME DON'T SAVE ME
29 August 2016 @ 06:55 pm
[okay, well, everything is hell
and Clover has wanted to just roll over and go to sleep since yesterday, except when she tried, the night terrors came, so fuck that; she got put through the worst thing that ever happened to her again more than enough times in the past twenty-four hours, thanks.
So she's set up camp in the medbay with Judar. "Camp" entails slumping in a chair with a tablet, scythe propped up on the counter next to her and datapad right nearby with a cup of coffee brewed so strong and sweet she's filtering grounds and clumps of sugar through her teeth. Every now and again the scythe gets use as a glorified shiny crutch so she can hobble to the kitchen and refill her caffeine supply, because she's pretty sure it's all that's keeping her alive, never mind awake, at this point—that and the aggressive need to babysit. Like she wasn't anxious enough already, being in the medbay with the vision and the nightmare still fresh exacerbates how much of a goddamn wreck she is, but she can't leave Judar alone. If anything seems like it's going wrong, she has to be able to get Grell. She wants to make sure he wakes up.
So she's slumped in her chair, shaky and jittery from the caffeine if nothing else at all, swearing quietly at a puzzle game on the tablet that she's doing an incredibly shitty job at playing, shifting constantly in a futile attempt to find a way to sit that doesn't hurt.
The constant Disney princess butterflies are probably a good sign, at least? They keep distracting her from losing at puzzles.]
and Clover has wanted to just roll over and go to sleep since yesterday, except when she tried, the night terrors came, so fuck that; she got put through the worst thing that ever happened to her again more than enough times in the past twenty-four hours, thanks.
So she's set up camp in the medbay with Judar. "Camp" entails slumping in a chair with a tablet, scythe propped up on the counter next to her and datapad right nearby with a cup of coffee brewed so strong and sweet she's filtering grounds and clumps of sugar through her teeth. Every now and again the scythe gets use as a glorified shiny crutch so she can hobble to the kitchen and refill her caffeine supply, because she's pretty sure it's all that's keeping her alive, never mind awake, at this point—that and the aggressive need to babysit. Like she wasn't anxious enough already, being in the medbay with the vision and the nightmare still fresh exacerbates how much of a goddamn wreck she is, but she can't leave Judar alone. If anything seems like it's going wrong, she has to be able to get Grell. She wants to make sure he wakes up.
So she's slumped in her chair, shaky and jittery from the caffeine if nothing else at all, swearing quietly at a puzzle game on the tablet that she's doing an incredibly shitty job at playing, shifting constantly in a futile attempt to find a way to sit that doesn't hurt.
The constant Disney princess butterflies are probably a good sign, at least? They keep distracting her from losing at puzzles.]
21 August 2016 @ 02:38 am
[so eventually they're done treating Judar's cool new ACID CORROSION BULLET WOUND and Jason kicks these assholes out of his room, who can blame him, and Clover's still right at Judar's side, arm out for him to lean on whether he's gonna take it or not, scythe handle tucked under her opposite arm at the same inconvenient angle in case she needs to drop it. The wound's bandaged and the urgency's over and there's nothing she can do until the trial tomorrow—the trial, there's going to be a trial, and she can't imagine a best-case scenario for it, not one anyone else would listen to. If she keeps thinking about it, if she keeps thinking about tomorrow and Judar and Alice and how utterly helpless she is in all of it, she's going to break completely.]
Do—you don't wanna stay in the medbay, do you? [She's quiet in the way that she gets when she starts to shut down, desperately trying to focus on anything else but the Nuwa or tomorrow.] I'll bring you there if you want.
Do—you don't wanna stay in the medbay, do you? [She's quiet in the way that she gets when she starts to shut down, desperately trying to focus on anything else but the Nuwa or tomorrow.] I'll bring you there if you want.
17 August 2016 @ 07:47 pm
[She's been maybe sort of kind of putting this off. She shouldn't bother him while he's recovering, she doesn't want to make things weird, she doesn't want to deal with Marinette too, he's probably not coignizant anyway. Excuses, excuses, excuses, and it isn't until Wednesday that Clover gets the fuck over herself, says he could have died, he could have died, he could have died again and again and deigns to be out and about at regular human hours; kitchen first, then the medbay.
She does still wait until Marinette isn't around because she isn't that over what a shithead she is, but Wednesday afternoon, Clover peeks her head in around the medbay door—just being here makes her anxious; she hasn't stepped foot in this room in over a month, and she still glances up to the cabinets before she looks for Adrien.
aaaaand she's just standing here?? like okay the plan was to look for Marinette and then make sure Adrien was awake before she actually like walked in but in practice she's just like, standing half-in the doorway, scythe just kinda peeking out next to her, chillin'. hi, clover??]
She does still wait until Marinette isn't around because she isn't that over what a shithead she is, but Wednesday afternoon, Clover peeks her head in around the medbay door—just being here makes her anxious; she hasn't stepped foot in this room in over a month, and she still glances up to the cabinets before she looks for Adrien.
aaaaand she's just standing here?? like okay the plan was to look for Marinette and then make sure Adrien was awake before she actually like walked in but in practice she's just like, standing half-in the doorway, scythe just kinda peeking out next to her, chillin'. hi, clover??]
17 August 2016 @ 06:32 pm
[She's made a sort of routine of this—force the robots to haul her from her room late in the day, early in the night; find the places no one cares about this late when most of the last few residents of the ship are off to bed so she can be alone until the day comes and she can retreat back into her room while everyone else starts to stir. She's like a moth, drawn to the lights in the fuel reserve room again and again, but it's nothing especially complex. Clover just likes shiny things.
Tonight's no different; she's sat at the end of the bridge, scythe in one hand, datapad in her lap, but the volume for Furry Passing muted so she can hear what's going on around her.]
Tonight's no different; she's sat at the end of the bridge, scythe in one hand, datapad in her lap, but the volume for Furry Passing muted so she can hear what's going on around her.]
10 August 2016 @ 02:59 pm
[Being out and about as the eve of murder comes closer and closer to an end and approaches Actual Murder is a great and foolproof idea, right?? It definitely is when you have a laser scythe, no question. Getting restless and fidgety happens, all right, it's fine? It's fine. Clover has never done anything wrong in her life.
She'll never acknowledge totally having brought this on herself but she definitely jumps anytime anything in the hallway has the audacity to make a noise while she's wandering. Her room is probably the next destination she has in mind? At least her ruined sleep schedule hasn't completely destroyed her sense of time as it relates to the usual weekly schedule of death.]
She'll never acknowledge totally having brought this on herself but she definitely jumps anytime anything in the hallway has the audacity to make a noise while she's wandering. Her room is probably the next destination she has in mind? At least her ruined sleep schedule hasn't completely destroyed her sense of time as it relates to the usual weekly schedule of death.]
05 August 2016 @ 02:15 am
[Maybe there's something poetic in why Clover keeps coming back to the fuel reserve room now that it's been unlocked, sat at the edge of the bridge for the third night in a row now with her new scythe in her hands, held over her lap, something about energy and infinity and cycles—but Clover is absolutely not a poet, and mostly she just likes shiny things. It doesn't get shinier than this.
But here's where she is now, datapad set aside because this is more entrancing than Furry Passing at the moment. Any sound makes her start and tighten her grip on the scythe's handle but more often than not, it's just robots coming in and out, so she's never too concerned.]
But here's where she is now, datapad set aside because this is more entrancing than Furry Passing at the moment. Any sound makes her start and tighten her grip on the scythe's handle but more often than not, it's just robots coming in and out, so she's never too concerned.]