gold plated
ooc: backdated to 27 December 2015
--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
<Clover> Breaking and entering had always been a good way to pass the time, whether she meant to avoid attention, or whether she meant to attract attention. That night, she’d gone out with a mission to collect specific items, among them copper pipes. Clover had dressed more for manipulation than for the sake of blending in with the dark interiors of warehouses and factories. When the guards finally caught her cracking open boxes filled with chemicals, she relied on her dress to get her out of a phone call to police. Twice, she’d avoided the law. Clo couldn’t win every time.When she went home, her backpack stuffed with items she’d lifted from the buildings in Coastside, Clover hoped Jesse would be back, but her hopes were dashed the moment she set foot in Limbo. Summoning Jersey was more of a quick decision, just a spark in her mind that ignited a fire. She wanted company, and even though Jesse had given her permission to summon him, Clo still refused. He had his own pastimes, and Clover had her own friends. Her own family. And so, standing in the middle of the room, her bag still hanging off her shoulder, she concentrated on summoning her sister.
<Jersey> Jersey had been sitting in the middle of the cabin surrounded by the dogs as she crafted guns, her attention to detail keeping her entertained as she worked easy. Some were powerful, others were decent. Her best had been Evermore, her worst Lineary. With her hair falling over her shoulder in its loose bun, she reached for another tool only to pause and smile softly at the sight of the glistening rose colored ring resting on her finger. It made her giggle, softly, and then collect the tool before she slid on the stock of another barrel. When she finished, Jersey admired the work of Linger and stood up. As always in the cabin, she wore a pair of shorts and a button down shirt left open over her tank top.
She hadn't been expecting to be summoned, otherwise her outfit would have been a little bit more winter friendly. It caught her off guard and green eyes blinked when the cozy warmth of her home was replaced with the unmistakable decoration of the Fforde home. "Hi Clo." She chirped, studying the gun in her hand. "How are you?" She asked, knowing no one else would have brought her there.
<Clover> Success! Every successful summoning left her with an overwhelming feeling of accomplishment. Clo shrugged her backpack off and let it fall to the floor. She listened to the sound of liquids sloshing about in their containers and the cling clang of metal knocking against metal. Once the contents of her bag had settled, she tugged her lambskin jacket back up onto her shoulder and offered Jersey a small smile. The brunette remained quiet, as if her smile were answer enough. How was she doing? Surprisingly well. Unbelievably well. Clover thought that if she admitted her good fortune, she would fall victim to some horrible act--she believed in karma and the idea of balance, to some extent.
Clo nudged her heavy bag toward the crafting table, where she usually left her stray parts and tools. Sadly, others had begun to linger around the table, and that meant she had to clean up her messes. “I didn’t email you back. I thought I could congratulate you in person. Congratulations.” There was enthusiasm in her tone, one achieved from her own good fortune and the fact that Jersey stood right in front of her, looking at her. Her sister was getting married. And Clover had never met the man. Jersey wore an engagement ring given to her by a faceless man. Of course Clover knew his name--Peter--and of course Clover knew how happy he made Jersey. But she’d never met the man. “I’m not going to meet him, am I?”
<Jersey> It had been nice to have Clover be happy for her. Momentarily, Jersey had forgotten that she'd told the woman about her recent engagement, her mind still going over the conversation that she and Peter had before she'd allowed him go back to work. She didn't think there'd be any planning soon, she was too excited. "Thank you." The words slipped past her lips, concealing her relief that there had been no 'aren't you two rushing it?' that she'd been expecting at some point. She held Linger out to the other woman, showing it was a gift. It'd be awkward carrying it around. The blonde held her hand out, showing the rose gold and diamond floral ring out to her sister.
"You don't have to if you don't like to, but we'd like you to be there." It had been discussed the evening before, too. "When it happens." Jersey bit her bottom lip lightly as she considered the last time her half of the family had been around Peter. "Unless you'd like to meet him sooner, so we can just get over any tension." She still didn't know how big of a ceremony that there would be, but she wanted family there. Even if it wasn't everyone. "It'd mean a lot to me." Jersey admitted, frowning, "You know how I was when I was human... so does he."
<Clover> “I’d like to meet him before then. My opinion doesn’t mean much. I’m not crazy enough to assume that it would. I just...I want to meet him and see for myself.” Her gaze lingered on the ring, on the way that the light played across the diamond. He’d picked the ring out just for her, as if he knew everything about her. He probably did know everything about her. That’s what the ring meant. They’d reached the point where they had to assign more meaning to their relationship and to themselves. Clover stared hard at the ring. When it seemed like she could spend hours just staring at the diamond set in the rose-gold ring, she reached out and accepted the gun.
“I can give you parts, in exchange. I mean. I don’t need a gift or anything.” Flustered, she struggled to find the meaning in her words. Clo didn’t know what she was trying to say, or if she meant to say anything at all. Had she felt obligated to say something? Yes. She felt obligated to say something other than the automatic responses she’d had hammered into her own brain. Were they ready for marriage? Were they taking it seriously? Were they aware that marriages fail, and that people fall apart? Were they aware of the waste of time and energy and money? Jersey had been the one to give Clo relationship advice. The lingering advice kept her from voicing such negative thoughts or asking such insensitive questions. “Thanks,” Clo blurted out, motioning to the weapon. “I like collecting different weapons. I still have the first gun I got from Jesse too. It’s...pretty great, like your ring. Not that your ring is similar to a gun. It’s not similar at all. I’m trying.”
<Jersey> "Your opinion means everything to me, Clo. Just because I may not follow your wishes, doesn't mean I don't take them into consideration." Jersey blinked at her sister. It was how she worked, really. She considered everything that others asked of her, that they told her, and did what she chose was right. At that moment, whereas some didn't agree, she listening to herself. It was healthier, better for her sanity. "I'd love for you to meet him." And it was true, she would. "I'll coax him out of the cabin and away from his work as soon as I can." Jersey had been getting better at doing so and not feeling guilty. She didn't really like the idea of Peter sitting inside all the time. It had been easier when they were first together, before the businesses, but they were getting back to what he'd wanted - normal.
"Parts would be fantastic, I keep running out." She couldn't help but laugh, "I'll still pay you for them, though. I'm sure you had something better planned to do with them." The blonde watched Clover for a moment, the quirk of her lips showing her enjoyment, and then she looked down at her ring. "I know, and you're doing fine. I'm still not entirely believing that we're getting married, but... I don't want anyone else to spend my eternity with in that manner." She dropped her hands and then stuffed them into the pockets of her shorts, "Even when we weren't together... we never stopped loving each other. It'll be two years of having feelings for each other in March."
<Clover> Two years. Had it been almost two years? All of their days and nights became a blur. Even with her ability to remember the most insignificant of details, Clo found herself lost. She became like any other person, caught up in the endless cycle of day and night. The days of the week had no name. The phases of the moon made no difference. It had been over a year since she’d been a vampire. And what had she accomplished? Her brows furrowed, Clover looked as if she were contemplating what Jersey had said, but Clo had gone off on a tangent. Her thoughts took her to every place imaginable. While her mind wandered, she began rooting around at the crafting table. She opened drawers and shifted around different parts and tools.
“I can’t believe it’s been over a year,” she finally spoke. Clo, stooped down to root through bottom drawers of the table, stopped sorting through the gun parts and looked back at Jersey. “Some people don’t wait at all. They meet, they spend less than a month together, and they get engaged. They get married. And they divorce. You’ve taken time.” Somehow, her words weren’t as reassuring as she’d hoped. When she turned back to the table, she snagged her bag and began stacking its contents into the emptied drawers. The gun parts then went into her backpack.
“I met Athena’s boyfriend, Cosimo. He’s disgustingly optimistic. I wanted to shoot him.” Clo finally finished packing the parts away and she zipped the main compartment closed. “But he loved her and she loved him. Does she deserve him? No. She doesn’t deserve him at all. She’s cruel to him. And he’d told me he intended to marry her one day. If that’s true, then why not you? Why not someone who isn’t abusive, someone who isn’t cruel? You should enjoy what you have and you should get married. But...after Zach, after what happened with Jesse, I just don’t believe in it. If anyone can make it work, you can?” Clo got back to her feet and offered her sister a shrug, another addition to her lackluster explanation. An excuse.
<Jersey> A chuckle escaped past her lips, "Yeah... I had a moment of disbelief when I reached my first year." Jersey admitted, thinking about it as she followed after Clover and then crossed her arms behind herself. It was a comfortable position, one she didn't mind taking around her sister's presence. "We were together for a year and some odd months before I asked for the split..." It bothered her, but Jersey didn't like to remember that date. At the mention of divorce, Jersey thought back to what Peter had first told her about his first wife. She pressed her lips into a soft frown as she considered it. "I knew I wanted to be with him pretty early on. As stupid as that sounds." Jersey inclined her head and looked at Clo softly as she lifted her eyebrow at the mention of Athena.
"I'm amazed someone could deal with her..." The words slipped out before she could stop herself. Jersey liked Athena, but their personalities were different. Jersey was nicer, Athena was brash. The woman didn't think they'd be friends if it weren't for Clover and as she listened to the explanation, she frowned. "I'm disgustingly optimistic, have you ever wanted to shoot me?" She had to ask, but her tone showed that she was teasing. "You can't control who people fall in love... maybe he sees something deep, deep down that we can't." She had resisted to add another 'deep' and just nodded. She understood.
"I want to make this work. He wants to, too." She moved her hand around and looked down at her engagement ring, at the floral design that had made her smile brightly. "You know... it really isn't marriage that I believe in, it's about the fact Peter completes me. Zach didn't complete you.. ******** didn't even visit you in the hospital. But... I think Jesse does, and the fact that you're happy, that he makes you happy and that you love him - that's what matters, Clo."
<Clover> “I always want to shoot you. I think it has something to do with the fact that you’re right; at least, you’re right most of the time. I guess if he ‘completes’ you, then I have to accept the fact that marriage is just a representation. It’s nothing more than that. I’ve wanted to meet Peter though. I’ve wanted to meet him since I started encouraging you to go after him.” There was a moment where Clo could have commented on the rest of Jersey’s words, but she let the moment pass. She begged the moment to pass. Nice comments about her relationship made her uncomfortable, and she wasn’t sure of the reason. Perhaps it was about privacy or opinions. No, she wanted to focus on Jersey and Peter. Peter, the man who swept Jers off her feet. Was Jersey really that type of woman, the type to be swept away? And did that even matter? Wasn’t happiness the goal?
“I’m looking for something. I need reassurance. You telling me that he loves you and that he’s there for you? It doesn’t do anything. I want to meet him. I want to ask him questions. And I want you to put up with them. Because if he ‘completes’ you, and you ‘complete’ him, then I get to torture you both, at least a little.” She realized too late that she sounded heartless, but she loved seeing Athena squirm. And Cosimo. The man stepped up and made the meeting all the more interesting. So what would Peter do? What would Jersey do?
Clover moved over to a chair and sunk down onto it. She smoothed out the bottom of her dress and tucked the excess fabric beneath her thighs. “I think,” she began, sitting up in her seat to appear more serious, “I think we become so used to being made up of random parts, or we become so used to being whole shapes, that we forget that there are other possibilities. And eventually, we just...we’re not able to find someone, or something, to complete us, because we’ve already decided we’re as whole as we’re ever going to be. It’s just a thought.”
<Jersey> Her eyebrows furrowed, "I'm going to make sure you're unarmed when you meet him." It was a blank statement, but it wasn't because she didn't trust Clover. It'd probably put her at ease. The blonde tugged idly at her shirt lightly. She thought about the last time she'd just asked a family member of hers to just 'talk' to Peter and shuddered, visibly. It wasn't something she could control. It passed and she focused on what Clover had said, a nod being given before she smiled. "It's not my fault you don't listen without putting up a fight sometimes?" Though, she wondered why she gave Clover a gun at that moment and pushed it aside. "I think it'd be good for you to meet him, and... good for him. You both are very close to my heart and well, you're supportive of me."
At the mention of questions, Jersey adjusted to sit on the floor. She was comfortable there, stretching out her bare legs and crossing them at the ankles as she leaned back. "Just please keep in mind that Peter is a very literal individual... and will answer everything very in depth if he feels that he should." There was a quirk of her lips to show her amusement, "And sometimes he's too blunt?" Then again, Clover was too. Jersey sat up and rubbed at her temples idly. What could she say, or do, really? "You've once told me that you felt broken, Clo, but you don't see what I see." A shrug was given.
<Clover> “If he talks too much, I’ll tell him he talks too much. We’ll be fine. You pick when is best for the both of you and we’ll all meet somewhere.” She’d ignored the last portion of Jersey’s words. The fact remained that Clo still felt the same way. Uncertainty blended with her low self-esteem and made a cocktail that left her floundering. Floundering. Yes, that was a perfect word to describe how she felt whenever she had to analyze herself. “You were supportive of me, even when you shouldn’t have been, and you met Jesse. I’ll be on my best behavior. And not to sound like I’m plotting, but,” she stopped, a brow arched, “you realize I could just punch him. If it makes you feel better to take my weapons, then fine.”
Clover knew about Peter, about what had happened to him. Jersey had been the one to share the horror story, and she’d shared the story to make Clo feel better about a similar situation. Both of them had felt helpless. Even if the meeting went terribly wrong, Clo had no intentions of lashing out at Peter, at least not physically. They were words that went unsaid, words that joined a string of optimism that had surfaced far too late. Clo wanted to say that Jersey would make a great wife; she wanted to say that Jersey would look beautiful in a wedding dress. But Clover wasn’t the type of woman. There was a disconnect, a grey area where the deepest and most meaningful words disappeared.
“I made a gun and named it Frankenstein,” she said, her confession out of place. Clo attempted to change the subject. She circled back around to weapons, something she knew and enjoyed.
