OOM (Notish): Upstairs: Nights of Future Past

[hey35andholding]

Clementine has had a long few months.

Very long, and very filled with cranky sailors and grouchy spies healing from their wounds and a particularly stubborn SEAL to boot.

Whenever she comes to her room, it's to sleep, and it's no surprise that she dozes away seconds after she throws herself upon her bed. Normally she's a deep sleeper, but the sound of a creeky floorboard's enough to wake her.

Groaning, she rakes her fingers through her hair and sits up. "Look, I don't have any money and I've got a forty-five under my pillow. My stash is hidden in the ceramic dog on the dresser. Get it and get out."

Comments

[christmas_past]

Well, she's had worse greetings.

The young blonde . . . brunette . . . redheaded . . . nevermind.

The constantly changing young woman who is sitting on top of the dresser glances at the ceramic dog in question, but doesn't reach for it.

"I'm not interested in your, er, stash," she says. "I'm far more concerned with your welfare. But thank you."

She smiles, and with the mirror behind her reflecting her light, the glow is bright enough to be daylight.

"Hello, Clementine.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."

[hey35andholding]

Clementine's eyebrow goes up as she forces herself into a sitting position, blinking back dried mascara and sleep.

She eyeballs the younger woman watching her. "I need to stop buying from Joey," she mutters, pulling back her hair. "I'm not even gonna ask if you're a delayed trip or the real thing." She claps her hands together. "Do your voodoo, sister!"

[christmas_past]

. . . well, that was easy.

(It's usually not that easy. This one should be interesting. No complaints.)

There's a faint trace of what is either amusement or bemusement, or both, in her smile as the Ghost extends her hand.

"Rise, and walk with me."

Straight out the window.

[hey35andholding]

Clem's pretty zen, and she's got an empirical sense of reality thanks to the many, many mind-altering substances she's taken over time. Shrugging, she moved toward the woman, taking her hand. "As long as I don't miss anything. I've got somebody waiting for me."

She follows her through the window, into the brightness of the light...and when they emerge, it's into a chilly, dimly-lit living room - a trailer, clearly, filled with eye blindingly bright knick-nacks and kitschy decorations. There's a tiny cactus plant at its very center, with a single red bulb hooked awkwardly into its flesh, and a tiny blonde girl in a leotard lying next to it on her stomach, doing her homework.

The sight makes Clementine groan and rub the bridge of her nose. "Great," she mutters. "Just great..."

[christmas_past]

(That, on the other hand, is rather more usual.)

"Do you remember this place?"

[hey35andholding]

Clementine nods, watching this younger version of herself kick her legs and hum. "Yeah. I grew up here."

She watches her younger self finish dressing the tree.

"I worked so hard on that tree..."

The front door abruptly opens, and a tall, exhausted-looking blonde woman enters, dragging a suitcase behind her. She immediately collapses in the easy chair.

Little Clementine won't accept that as an answer and starts tugging on her pantleg. "mommy, mommy, I made a star for the tree."

"That's nice, honey...show your...brothers..." The woman's head drooped sidways.

The adult Clementine sighs and rests her head against the wall. "This is the first Christmas my mother came home drunk."

[OOC: Around all night to finish this one off!]

[christmas_past]

"Watch," the Ghost says mildly.

You don't warp the laws of time and space to get a good look at a wall.



[OOC: Sorry! I had already gone to bed, and then today was crazy.]

[hey35andholding]

Clementine cringes

"Mommy...MOMMY!" Little Clementine calls.

"God damn it, Clementine!" the drunk in the chair shouts. "I told you to show your brothers! Mommy's BUSY!"

"You are not!"

"I'm resting. Let. Mommy. Rest."

The little girl ran off muttering, "You're Always resting."

"And that," Clem says, "is when I knew I'd never love my mother again."

[OOC: It's quite okay! Slowtimes are good - will be on hiatus but will pick up when back!]

[christmas_past]

"Not the merriest of Christmases, then?"

[hey35andholding]

She shakes her head. "It was the last Christmas I spent there. My mom burned the place down with one of her cigarettes and we moved in with my Uncle. I know it's weird to so so, but that ended up being a pretty good move," she admits. The Ghost may try to pry further information from her, but for now she turns from the scene. "So what's next?" she wonders softly.