poly_chromatic | → sixteenth rune ←

→ sixteenth rune ←

You didn't feel pity. You didn't feel anything.

[ The voice in the memory is Clary's, angry and hurt and confused all at once. It blurs and shifts around her as though she's tried to block it out but the more time goes, the more solid the details become. They are in a room that comes straight out of a museum. Panneled walls and torches, an endlessly long dining table, mirrors that caught fire and glittered. It's old fashioned and old money and Clary looks out of place within it, dirty as she is. ]

That's enough, Clary! [ This time the voice is Jace's and Clary shifts enough to stare at him, horror clear on her features. As though a contrast to her, he is clean and healthy looking in his white shirt and pants, his gold hair scrubbed clean of the usual demon blood. ] Don't talk about my father like that.

He's not your father!

[ The outburst makes Jace look as though he's been slapped, disbelief filtering through his voice. ] Why are you so determined not to believe us?

Because she loves you. [ The new voice is smooth, empowered. The man who speaks has silver hair that gleams like a steel helmet and a mouth that is settled in a hard line. The sword at his waist is long and imposing. He looks every inch the law. Or whatever brand of law can be found in a place like this. ] She fears I am taking advantage of you. That I have brainwashed you. It isn't so, of course. If you looked into your own memories, Clary, you would know it. Sit down, Jonathan. Let her come to it on her own.

Jonathan? Did you lie about that too?

No. Jace is a nickname. It's my initials. J.C.

[ When she speaks, Clary sounds frightened and though she is ill. ] Jonathan. Jonathan Christopher.

[ When Jace moves to speak, to ask her how she knows that, he is cut off once more by Valentine. ]

Jace, I had thought to spare you. I thought a story of a mother who died would hurt you less than the story of a mother who abandoned you before your first birthday.

My mother is alive?

She is. Alive, and asleep in one of the downstairs rooms at this very moment. Yes. Jocelyn is your mother, Jonathan. And Clary - Clary is your sister.

( ooc: m-m-memory theatre. this goes up sometime sunday morning and stays up. all font in red is clary, green is jace, and silver is ~~shadowhunter hitler~~ valentine. um, warnings for accidental incest? )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

...[Oh, dear.] I think we should talk to Pavel and see if he can encrypt your device as well, come a point.

Why?

[ There's a pause where Clary is obviously fiddling with her device. Mae can probably hear the muffled replay of her memory, see her expression change from curious to horrified in a second. ] Oh god.

It...happens?

[ She feels sick and judging by the way she covers her face with her hand, she's panicking a little bit. ]

Oh god.

Clary? [A quick and sure way to get Mae rushing to Clary's room.]

I'm all right.

[ Though that's muffled by the fact that she's covered her face with her pillow. ]

Can I come in?

Yes.

[ Her voice is still muffled. Maybe she can smother herself. ]

[And so, she goes in! Concern written all over her face, because that was some post.]

Hi, sweetheart.

Hi.

[ With her face still buried in her pillow. ]

[That's unfortunate and won't lead to talking, which is what Mae is here for to begin with. So she walks over and sits down next to Clary, settling her hands on her knees.]

So...

[ Rolling on to her back and staring very pointedly at the ceiling. ]

I feel like an idiot.

[She feels like an idiot, but Mae's about to be a bigger one, because the question is on the tip of her tongue, and she wants to know. Even though she promises herself not to draw comparisons and gag, at the very least, even if judgement might happen.]

Are you and Jace-

No.

[ She covers her eyes with the palms of her hands and sighs. ] Jace isn't my brother. He was ... raised by Valentine, but he's not. We were lied to. It was a trick. I don't know. He thought that he could ... push us apart, confuse us. He could win if we were too busy fighting our feelings.

[She lets out her breath in a loud sigh, then blurts the first thing that comes to mind.]

What a dick.

[ She pulls her hands away from her face, suddenly serious. ]

There was a point where I didn't care. [ The City could bring it up at any time, the Mansion burning and Jace pressing her into the grass. She wants to tell Mae before it happens. ] I loved him, I loved him so much that I couldn't ignore it or avoid it, I would have run away with him before we knew. What Valentine did couldn't change anything.

[Well, that is information that is just - it takes a while. She grows silent for a long time, looking at nothing in particular, before she finally reaches out and takes Clary's hand.

Because, ultimately, damaged trainwreck of a relationship or not, if she loved Jace that much, then Mae knows she must still be aching. Worse now, that the City is bringing back the memories.]

[ She looks down at their hands and squeezes. Her feelings for Jace may never change. She loved him, needed him like the tide needed the moon. It made little sense for her to be parted from him and yet --.

And yet she wasn't sure he felt the same way. Better to not kid herself. ] My family's kind of fucked up. [ Valentine with his experiments, Sebastian with his demon blood.

Clary. ] I just hope they never show up here.

Yeah, somehow I find myself hoping for the same thing, for your sake. [Fingers laced together is only the first step; at that squeeze, Mae takes a leap of faith and assumes her friend needs affection right now, so she pushes herself up on the bed until her back rests against the wall, and pulls Clary closer, to cuddle if she wants to.]

So...[That tone in her voice speaks volumes of how she's going to try and deflect the situation with some humour.] If I ever tell you that I think of you as the sister I've never had, will that lead to kissing?

[ She does need it. So when Mae pulls her closer, Clary wraps her arms around her and buries her face in her shoulder. With her question, she makes a noise, shakes like she's laughing. Better to do that than to cry, right? ]

No, but only because by this point it would be the third time and I don't want a reputation. [ A quiet pause. ] Sebastian, my actual brother, he kissed me before. Before I knew who he was. He knew who I was though. Like I said, fucked up family. [ Sighing as she runs a hand through her messy hair. ] Maybe I'm broken too. I hate not being able to fight back.

[It does occur to her that it's a terrible thought to have in the middle of an emotional episode like this one. But the thought crosses her mind anyway, as soon as Clary says no: Shame. She doesn't see the way Mae shakes her head, mentally scolding herself for it, because Clary's face is buried in her shoulder and Mae's craddling her head to keep her there.]

Oh my god, I would like to kick them all in their privates. But for your sake I hope I never get to, they sound like terrible people and worse even to have in the City.

They won't show up.

[ It's firm but maybe only so to convince herself. ] Not for good.

Next time we have visitors, we'll have to barricade.

That's a good idea. [ She rests her head on Mae's shoulder but lets her gaze slide across her room. ]

I thought being a teenager would mean worrying about boys and dresses and dancing. It sounded scary enough without the monsters attached.

Or demons. Or magic. Yeah, hear here.

[It is a woefully bad time for Ginny to be so cursed because she is concerned. But. :( ]

I've got cupcakes.

[ She sounds a little distracted, a little like she thinks she should be ashamed. ]

Hi Ginny. [ A twitch of her mouth. ] Do you?

Hi! And yes, I do, for my favourite friends. I'm sorry the City didn't leave you alone today.

[ She sighs. ] He isn't, you know. Jace isn't.

[ Her brother, obviously. ]

Hey, who am I to judge even if he was? Pure-blooded families did it all the time.

[ That doesn't make her feel better. Sebastian would have let Clary kiss him without telling her. She imagines what other damage he would have done. ]

We were lied to.

[Clary, don't think she's being callous, the curse is turning her anger at such a lie into... well, a wildly inappropriate smile.]

I'm sorry. That's awful.

[ She blinks and she knows that this isn't Ginny's character. ]

It's all right. Are you okay?

Not especially, but what can I do.

[But laugh.]

I think I'll give you one of each colour, then. They'll make things a bit better, maybe. Sweets always do.

[ A frown. ]

I didn't know the City did curses like that.

Like what, baking? It isn't the baking.

You don't feel strange?

A little. But I can't quite seem to get upset over it.

That is such a weird curse.

They're all weird. Sometimes terrible. This is a bit of both. And you?

This one sucks.

I'm sorry. We haven't got to talk about it.

I think I'm just gonna go?

Call me if you need anything, alright, Clary?

I will. Thanks!

[ He appears on the screen, but it's a while before he actually speaks; he looks pale, but it's not the usual healthy complexion, and he looks tired, which adds to it.

He remembers the scene as if it were yesterday, and yet it feels like a lifetime ago, even more so with their current circumstances.

Somehow, he manages to sound regretful, angry, and sorrowful all at once, his voice cracking around the edges and quiet in a way that lacks the usual front. ]

I should never have believed him.

[ She's mostly spent the time since Mae alerted her to it with her face pressed against the pillow. When she hears his voice though she bolts upright, looks like she's been crying and right now she rubs her hand over her eyes roughly as if that could conceal it. ]

I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to be up there. I've been telling everyone who'll listen that it isn't true. [ Please don't hate me. ]

[ He looks as serious as he did before she raised her head, if not more so, but something softens around the edges as he sees the tear-tracks down her face. ]

I don't care what anyone else thinks, we know the truth. That's all that really matters. [ It's the fact that she apologises that breaks something, chest aching like he's been punched. His voice is softer, aiming for soothing and reassuring. ] It's not your fault, Clary. None of it is your fault.

I hate that they can do this. Make us see him again.

[ What else could the City pluck from her thoughts? Losing Simon, kissing Sebastian. the Lightwoods seeing Max's body? Nothing is sacred. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

→ sixteenth rune ←

video;

video;

video;

video;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

[ Video ]

[ Video ]

[ Video ]

[ Video ]