Clara Jackson, from The Multiverse, a roleplay on RPG

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#2011-02-16 18:55:36, as written by Arrow

The door of the bar was pushed open, admitting a girl in a loose-fitting summer dress - far too breezy for the current weather, though it didn't seem to bother its wearer.

There was still something obviously not-quite-right about this girl though, evident in the harried way she shuffled to the counter, eyes flickering back and forward almost fearfully. Occasionally she winced, as if in pain, biting her lip and hugging her arms around herself.

Where are you now, silly whore? Place looks a little high class for you, don't you think? Good thing that ugly fringe of yours hides your face. Careful how you go, or you might make the corpse in the corner feel sorry for you.

Clara's face was pained as she sat at the bar counter. There was no reprieve from Her taunts... nowhere to escape them.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2011-02-16 19:01:21, as written by Arrow

"C-can I have a glass of w-water, please?"

Clara's stammering voice was quiet, nearly inaudible as her eyes sought out Kiyan. Everything about her was hesitation, and her posture seemed to create the illusion that she was a lot smaller than she was, drawn in on herself both physically and mentally.

Trying to be healthy, are you? Pitiful. No amount of restricting yourself to water and salads will ever make you any less fat. You're hideous. How can you stand to live with it? Maybe you should just kill yourself and be done with it. It'd make everything a lot easier for the both of us...

Clara sighed as her quiet voice went unheard, and Kiyan went to serve Jack Rip. She was used to being ignored, and simply laid her head down on her hands, staring at the wood of the bar counter.

Ignored again, Clara? Nobody wants to talk to you. You're too repulsive for them to consider it.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2011-02-16 19:06:05, as written by Arrow

Clara looked back up at Kiyan as she approached, and shook her head. "J-just water, please..." she replied, sad green eyes blinking as she spoke.

Everyone pities you, Clara. Repulsive, ugly, unlikeable. They all hate you on the inside. Can't you see it in her eyes? She just wants you served and out of this place. It really is cruel of you to put her through this. Why don't you just leave?

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Gambit's Bar

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#2011-02-16 19:14:32, as written by Arrow

Clara Jackson quietly sipped at her drink, slipping a book out of her bag and trying to bury herself in it, to suppress Her voice inside her mind.

Poor, poor Clara. So disadvantaged, so stupid. If you weren't such a filthy cunt then I might feel sorry for you, like everyone else. But I know the truth, don't I? I know everything about you, and I despise you, more than anyone else. There is nothing about you worth an ounce of sympathy.

Silence. Clara simply continued to read. She was used to Her by now. She'd been with her for her entire life, the voice in the back of her head that put voice to her every doubt, her every fear. As she'd gotten older, it had gotten louder. Any shred of self esteem was long gone, as She tore them away with insult after insult after crushing insult.

But Clara lived with it. Just about. Perhaps it was just because she had failed miserably even at trying to kill herself. It was a failure that She particularly liked to remind her of...

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Gambit's Bar

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#2011-02-16 19:22:53, as written by Arrow

Clara sighed. It was time to leave. She had an appointment with her therapist to get to. Her latest therapist. She'd lost count of them a while back. None of them had been able to get rid of Her, all of them were baffled.

Some of them were dead.

Clara slipped her book away and finished her water, before retreating from the bar.

That's right, let's go find Dr. Matthews. He won't help you, you know. None of them will. They all hate you far too much to care. Think of how much time they have to spend with you - you of all people. I pity them...

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Gambit's Bar

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#2011-03-26 19:52:39, as written by Arrow

The door of the bar slammed open with a vicious crash as Clara threw it back on its hinges with a growl of anger. The young woman glared around the bar with eyes that seeped hatred and violence, every inch of her body language implying barely restrained anger. Hatred - everything about her was hatred. "Fucking bitch, keeping me locked up inside her. Can't fucking keep me restrained for long, little cunt."

Clara slammed the door of the bar closed behind her with disturbing force, rattling nearby trim as she stalked forwards, still muttering profanity, slipping occasionally into nothing more than guttural growling. The summery white dress that she wore seemed entirely unsuited to her personality, more fitting on an innocent child or laughing and cheerful maiden. Her sandals slapped against the wood as she stalked to the bar counter.

"Get out of the fucking way." she growled at Cloud Strife, not bothering to go to the effort of finding an unoccupied section of bar counter and instead storming straight down the centre, which happened to involve shoving man with her shoulder as she slammed her hands on the surface. "Someone get me a beer, I don't fucking care how revolting it is."

She glared around the bar at the patrons - from Tidus, to Vampiric-Rage, to Rahal - with unjustified loathing, "Anything to blur my vision of this ragtag assortment of freaks and whores."

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Gambit's Bar

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#2011-03-26 20:00:11, as written by Arrow

"What the fuck do you want?" Clara hissed at Spreekles, glowering at the tentacle creature. "Fucking slimy freak thing, go hover over a shallow grave before I curb stomp you into one."

After a tentative bartender brought Clara a bottle of beer, she threw a note at him and chugged back an unhealthy amount of it in a single swig. "What," she snarled at Spreekles again, "The fuck are you still doing there?"

Clara kicked back her stool and feinted jumping up at the tentacle thing, halting mid-rise to leer at it. "Go back to your bitch." she snarled, waving a hand at Dragon.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2011-03-26 20:08:00, as written by Arrow

"You want something?" Clara yelled, reaching out a hand in an attempt to forcefully grab Spreekles, utterly oblivious to the searing heat that burned her flesh. If she managed to grab the tentacle, she would slam the tentacle into the counter surface, before smashing the beer bottle she held in her free hand over it.

"Fucking parasite!" Clara screamed, "You want to burn something, pathetic little waste of matter? Don't bite off more than you can chew!" With this, Clara kicked her stool angrily at Spreekles' main body.

Clara seemed utterly oblivious to the men with weapons in the bar, focused on trying to beat the crap out of the parasite.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2011-03-26 20:17:42, as written by Arrow

"Fucking fantastic! Got me my own personal little living stress ball!" Clara laughed uproariously, driving the broken bottle into the parasite while it was latched onto her arm, the deep wounds that the heat caused barely registering to her. Already, the red marks where Spreekles had already burned her were fading.

"Disgusting little ball of worthlessness!" she shrieked as it detached from her, tossing the beer bottle after it and picking up her barstool. Bright light or not, Clara swung the stool at Spreekles like a baseball bat, aiming to whack it into the face of any nearby patron. Her vision was indeed reduced to blackness, and her ears rung with the screech. But Clara didn't care. It would all heal in a few minutes anyway.

But this, this was good venting. Venting what? General hatred of life everywhere. You needed a good vent once in a while when you hated everything.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2011-03-26 20:28:18, as written by Arrow

"Fuck you, floating ball of shit." Clara growled, glaring ... well, in the vague direction that Spreekles had last been in. Blindness was slightly annoying when you were trying to glare. On the plus side, it did make her eyes look incredibly creepy.

The young woman realised that she wasn't going to get anywhere here - she was blind, unarmed, and this thing kept regenerating. As therapeutic as repeatedly hitting something was, it would get boring before long, and it wouldn't do to damage the bitch's body too much. She could shrug damage off indefinitely, and regenerate before long, but hatred was better when people hated you back. And this parasite wasn't doing much more than spazzing out.

With an incomprehensible growl, Clara started to stumble towards the exit - essentially deaf and blind thanks to Spreekles' screeching and light. Using her shins as a guide, the woman eventually made her way out. Her vision was slowly returning, so at least she wasn't likely to walk into traffic.

Clara Jackson

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

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So begins...

Clara Jackson's Story

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