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Claire Brownlow

0 · 821 views · located in Northern Main Street

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Saviarre

Description

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Born in 1890, Claire became a silent movie star and by 1912, her face was well known. People would line up to see the newest Brownlow picture and she played opposite some of the best leading men of her time. By the end of 1913, however, Claire disappeared. Nobody had seen or heard from her since. It was as if she vanished from the face of the earth. Over time, she was forgotten. Hollywood made way for newer stars, and Claire's memory was nearly completely lost.

So begins...

Claire Brownlow's Story

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Claire Brownlow looked over at Darren as he took a seat beside her, smiling slightly before turning her attention back to… well… she hadn’t really been paying attention to anything, to begin with. Guns. Why did everyone around here have to have guns? Or weapons of some sort. Maybe Jeremiah was right. Maybe it was a dangerous place. Maybe she should invest in some sort of weaponry. The thought made her smile and she chuckled slightly. Claire… with a weapon… Ha ha! She wouldn’t have the first clue what to do. She’d probably wind up shooting her own damn foot off.

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Claire Brownlow widened her eyes as she noticed a gun being pointed in her general direction. Eying Mr. Silver, she slowly held her hands up like they did in the movies, biting her lip nervously. And then the gun was pointed to someone else. Far too dangerous here… Much to dangerous. She stood from the counter, lifting her beaded bag with the intention of crossing the bar to a quieter area… a booth perhaps… out of harm’s way… if there was such a place in this bar.

Hearing Darren, however, she turned to him and smiled again, nervously, weakly, still biting her lip. She nodded to him as a way of greeting.

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Claire Brownlow shook herself from her reverie as she stood near the booth. Despite everything going on around herself, she had blanked out. Again. Damnit. Wishing she could control those blackouts, she slid into the booth, adjusting her cream kid gloves over her arms, ensuring that her wrists were hidden.

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Claire Brownlow sat quietly in her booth, unmoving, trying to draw no attention to herself. She merely watched what was happening across the bar. Yes, she should invest in a weapon… but little good it would do in her inexperienced hands. People here didn’t seem to see weapons as intimidating even… She swallowed, tilting her head as she watched.

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Claire Brownlow kept her eyes trained on the action across the room from her until a passing waitress caught her eye. Flagging the woman over, Claire indicated that she wished for a bottle of wine, acutely aware of the expression of annoyance on the woman’s face as Claire made her order. She would have to get used to that… people would get annoyed with her… She just wished it was easy to communicate.

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Claire Brownlow nodded her thanks to the waitress that brought the bottle of wine for her. Sitting in her booth, she poured herself a glass, tilting her head and watching the liquid fill the glass, the lights sparkling off of the crimson wine. It was one thing she always loved… the color of wine as it was poured. The smell of it. With a soft smile on her lips, she raised the glass to the light and peered through it, making a mental toast before taking a sip.

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Claire Brownlow sat quietly, sipping her wine, staring into space for another moment before reaching into her beaded handbag and pulling out small notebook she had purchased to record her thoughts in. After all, she felt she had enough to write about. She would glance up occasionally, studying the patrons around her, making her own mental assumptions before continuing to write leisurely.

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Claire Brownlow looked up at the new arrivals, biting her lip. Jeremiah had said this place was dangerous, and she wondered how many of these people were as he described. She had no intention of getting into trouble, but sometimes trouble had a way of finding her. She frowned as the man spit, and decided keeping her head down and writing and drinking her wine while minding her own business was the best course of action.

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Claire Brownlow paused in her writing to sip her wine, glancing up and looking around. As her eyes fell on Swift, her face brightened in a brilliant smile. Realizing the extent of her smile, she bit her lip to tone it down and lifted a gloved hand to wave at him. Looking down at the notebook, she added another few words to what she had been writing.

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Claire Brownlow resisted the urge to cover the words she had written in her notebook. The last thing she had written was:

I'm really glad that I came here. For now. I just hope I don't regret it later. As long as he doesn't find me, I should be fine.


Pulling her other notepad from her purse, Claire smiled at Swift, biting her lip as she flipped through the pages for a clean page. It astounded her. She'd had the notepad for over five years... and in the past few days, she'd written more in it than she had the rest of the years.

Jeremiah, I'm glad to see you. How have you been?

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Claire Brownlow blushed and lowered her eyes, closing the notebook in which she had been writing when he arrived. Her fingers moved over the spiral binding as she fought to control the smile, the blush… her obvious appreciation of those words. Positioning the notepad over the notebook, she looked up at him, eyes moving over him with an appreciative smile before lowering them to write.


Thank you. You embarrass me.



She grinned up at him for a moment before returning to the note pad.


You look nice too. I really enjoy your smile. A lot.



Lifting her eyes to his for a moment, she looked to see his reaction before continuing.


I’ve been well. I went shopping. I found something - -



Pausing, she bit her lip. Should she tell him? Why not?


interesting


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Claire Brownlow bit her lip and looked up at Swift with a brief nervous expression before reaching a gloved hand into her beaded handbag and pulling out a DVD. It was still in the store packaging, a sticker in the corner advertising the incredibly low price of $5.99! in fluorescent pink. 100 Classic Silent Films! She looked down at it for a moment. On the front was a compilation of pictures from various silent movie posters. The largest one, featured prominently in the middle was for the movie Twist of Fate starring Miss Claire Brownlow. Holding it out for him to see, Claire bit her lip, nervous about his reaction.

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Claire Brownlow looked up at Swift, her expression still nervous. She nodded and set the DVD on the table as she picked up her notepad.

It was a long time ago. There are six of my films in that box.


She looked sadly at the DVD case before lifting her eyes to Jeremiah.

My work. On sale in a compilation. It feels cheap.


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Claire Brownlow blushed as she looked up at Swift. Her eyes moved over his face for a moment before looking down to the notepad as she wrote.

How is it that you know to say exactly what I needed to hear?


Claire looked up at him curiously for a moment before looking back down to the page.

I haven’t seen them since their premiere.


Hesitating for a moment, her pencil tapped the page, creating small dots on the otherwise relatively clean paper.

Perhaps we can sandwich one in between two Shirley Temple films?

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Claire Brownlow looked down at his hand on hers and smiled to herself, lifting her thumb slightly to run it along the side of his hand, to let him know nonverbally that she enjoyed that. She wished she didn’t have to wear the gloves… so she could actually feel uninhibited his hand on hers. Closing her eyes, she imagined what it would feel like and sighed softly. She opened her eyes again and grinned.

My films were silent. Like me. Only more melodramatic. Like this


Her eyes flew wide and she dropped the pencil, raising her free hand, the one that wasn’t underneath his, in a broad sweeping gesture, placing the back of her hand against her forehead in an exaggerated swoon. Stopping, she giggled and picked up the pencil again.

We had to communicate without speaking. I didn’t realize it would be training for now. But I can think of a couple scenes you might enjoy. In one of my films there was a real lion!


Claire looked up at him, eyes wide and nodded.

The damn thing scared the living daylights out of me!


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Claire Brownlow raised her lips in a grin and slid her hand from under his, figuring the best way to answer would be to pantomime. She gestured to the corner of the booth as if it were the lion. With an expression of great trepidation, she leaned into the corner as if indicating that she had to lay resting against the lion’s side. Her expression of fear was comical. Suddenly she sat up and adjusted her expression to a stern face, imitating the expression of the director, and shook her finger as if angry. Then she pretended she were holding one of the chalkboards with the hinge on it and slammed it shut as if indicating another take. Again she laid back in the booth, her expression of fear still comical before sitting bolt upright and imitating the stern director again. Every time she did it, the stern face got more and more frustrated. She laughed and held up two fingers and then six, indicating that the scene had taken 26 takes to get right.

Still laughing, she picked up the pencil and hesitated for a moment before writing.

You already do impress me.

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Claire Brownlow smiled up at Swift and nodded, pointing to her wrist and spinning her finger in a clockwise motion over it. Later, the gesture indicated. She pointed up the stairs and shrugged, lifting the pencil and writing.

I look forward to it. You know where to find me.


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Claire Brownlow watched Swift leave, smiling and nodding at his wave before looking down at her left hand, the one he had touched. Biting her lip, she ran the fingers of her right hand over the back of her left and smiled. Opening her notebook again, Claire started a new line in the pages of text she had written.

Yes. I am very glad that I ended up here, even if I don’t know how I got here.


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Claire Brownlow looked around nervously as she entered the bar... or the flimsy structure serving as the bar as the actual bar was rebuilt... or whatever the hell was going on here. Stopping, Claire just looked around, biting her lip, wondering what to do now.

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Claire Brownlow had been scanning the area when her eyes fell on Violet's. Uncertainly, she smiled, nodding her head to him in greeting before continuing to look around. Pulling a flask from the beaded bag she carried, she unscrewed the cap with gloved fingers and tilted back a quick swallow. Her eyes moved around once again and noticed that Violet seemed to still be looking at her. Self-consiously, she looked down to see if she had spilled something on her ivory dress or not.

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Claire Brownlow sighed softly, moving toward a corner of the makeshift bar, lowering herself to sit on the ground. There wasn't much to do here, but what else was there anywhere? She could explore the city... perhaps make her way to the lake she'd heard about... She hadn't anticipated staying in this place for long anyway... but she couldn't leave now. Not now.

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Claire Brownlow reached into her beaded bag, pulling out a notebook. Biting at her lip, she ran a finger down the spiral at the side before opening it. Pulling her knees toward her, she balanced the notebook on her lap and began to write, completely unaware of Violet's approach.

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Claire Brownlow lifted her head as Violet sat down next to her. Tilting her head, she could tell something wasn't right. Her brows furrowed and she closed the notebook as she looked at him for a long moment. Finally, she held up a single finger, as if indicating that Violet should wait a moment. Standing, she made her way over toward the counter area, locating a glass and filling it with water. Returning, she held the glass out for him, her expression curious, and then she sat back down.

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Claire Brownlow sat quietly, the person who had moved to her must have fallen asleep. She bit her lip, wishing she knew how to heal people... or... well... anything that seemed to be useful around here. Claire had no skills... she couldn't even shout a warning of an impending attack... no... Claire didn't belong here at all. Strangely, though, she didn't want to leave.

Opening her notebook again, she spread it over her knees and began to write again, occasionally glancing up at the activity surrounding her.

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Claire Brownlow moved into the makeshift bar holding her head. Her fingers tried desperately to massage away an atrocious headache. He was calling for her… And unless she went to him, it would only get worse. But she couldn’t leave without word to her only friend. It would be very rude. So she would deal with the headache for as long as she could before answering the call.