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the mortal instruments - clary fray

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[ The memory starts with the crystal impression of a long-scaled creature with too many eyes crouched against someone's living room floor. It's legs ( like a monstrous centipede ) twitch as it breathes and it's eyes blink before settling on the girl who is unmistakably Clary. Her red hair is damp and plastered to her skin, her eyes wide and horrified and when the creature moves, so does she, twisting and falling to the floor. It misses her by an inch, claws extended and she scrambles to her feet to fling herself out into the hall. The creature lands just above the door in front of her, venom dripping from it's jaws and it's voice a high, hissing sound. ]

Girl. Flesh. Blood. To eat. Oh, to eat.

[ Slithering towards her, the demon looks like something pulled straight out of a nightmare but Clary doesn't make a sound anymore, doesn't whimper as she lifts a heavy photo frame of her mother and Luke, just closes her eyes against the terror and flings it straight at it. It bounces off and shatters and she loses all hope. ] Bones to crunch, to suck out the marrow, to drink the veins.

[ There's something else in her hand now, something that doesn't belong to her, something that pulses and her fingers tighten around it as the creature lunges a second time, knocking her down and dragging its impossibly cruel body over hers. It's face is inches from hers and she grimaces, bites back a whimper. ] To eat, to eat. But it is not allowed to swallow, to savor. Valentine will never know, he said nothing about a girl, Valentine will not be angry.

[ In what could be her only chance she takes the Sensor and rams it deep in the creatures mouth, hot burning drool coating her skin so that she screams in one painfilled note. But it's clawing at its throat and she shifts, climbs to her knees. It's tail comes down as it twitches, strikes her in the back of her head as she tries to crawl away and everything goes black.

Moments later the scene shifts and she is outside, Jace bending over her. He looks - worried - but Clary doesn't notice beyond the pain in her body. ] Don't move.

[ She ignores him, turns her head and bites back a whimper at the agony now filling her.] I told you not to move. [ Jace's voice is a hiss, urgent and quiet, and she sucks back the cry in her throat. ] That Ravenor demon got you in the back of the neck. It was half-dead so it wasn't that much of a sting, but we have to get you to the institute. Hold still.

-- But it talked.

You've heard a demon talk before.

[ Jace is gentle as he ties something to the back of her neck and the memory fades a little once more, as though with the relief of pain so goes it. The minute it starts up again, Clary's arm is in his hand and he is holding on to something sharp and silver, something like a blade but not at the same time. She tries to pull back but he's stronger, holds her still as he traces a design into her skin, lets it leak into her black and strong. ]

-- What's that supposed to do?

It'll hide you. Temporarily. My stele.

[ But Clary doesn't hear the rest, her legs go out from underneath her with his name caught in her throat. ]

( ooc: Miss fray has been hit with memory theatre. It's from a very early scene in City of Bones so it's not spoilering anything too badly. She doesn't know it's gone up so feel free to break the news. )

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[She finds herself swallowing thickly at that, staring blankly at the wall in front of her over Clary's shoulder.]

I'm not trying to turn this around and focus on me...

I know, but you're -- you're my best friend here okay? And if you're hurting then I want to help.

[ She can provide a lot of things, moral support, blanket forts. ]

[That makes her breath catch a little, her voice affected by the definition.] I am?

You took me in when I was lonely and you let me bring Jace and you have been so good to me, Mae. So yeah, you are.

[The two of them, living with her even now that they're together or attempting to be, is still helping to keep her sane and on occasions safe, more than they'd suspect. So-]

I'm glad to hear that.

So you know I'll be there whenever you need me, right?

[She nods, because she does believe it; it's something she's proven before. Both her and Jace. Mae sighs a little, and loosens her hold with one last rub of her back.]

Let's make tea.

Tea is totally something I can do without danger.

Figure it's something we need, if we're going to dwelve into...all of that.

[She takes a step back, aims for a reassurring smile.] I'll put the kettle on.

[ Clary follows her out into the kitchen, uses a chair to balance when she reaches for the very top cupboard. ]

I've been hiding cake from Jace, we need it more.

[She finds herself smiling in the most unpromising of circumstances. Such as now, while Clary's pulling a secret cake from the top shelf and claiming it's for them only, as if the sadness from two seconds ago is light as air.]

God, you're a jewel.

I know.

[ It's one of those stupidly pretty cakes - white icing and strawberry flavoured decorations and she puts it on the counter while the kettle boils, moves to find a knife.

Teasing. ] Don't tell him, he'll think I don't love him.

I promise I won't. [Poor Jace. Shunned from cake. One of those cakes that most people would feel guilty for cutting into and eating, but all Mae can think of is I must have you, precious. Yes, decidedly a jewel.]

How did you even smuggle it in without his knowledge?

I told him I had a dream about waking up in the Institute and not having any clothes.

[ Blushing. ] So he sort of didn't really notice.

[She laughs softly as she gets them both mugs, and tries not to go down the same road Jace's mind probably did and imagine it because that wouldn't be good.] Deviant.

[ Slicing up thick pieces of cake. ]

Well, it's the only thing I have. He keeps going into a daydream but we never -. [ Shrugging, carrying the plates to the coffee table. ] It's not the point.

Oh? [She pauses, back to Clary, head tilted at the door of the cupboard before pushing it closed, eyebrows pinched in a frown. Weird; if she had a girlfriend as pretty as Clary, she'd be all over her - but of course, the way each person relates to the physical displays of affections is different.

Still, it's better than talking about Mae's mom. She turns around with a small smile prepared.] Are you...interested in having more?

Nope, we're not allowed to talk about me. [ She smiles brightly, coming back over to join her and help with the tea. ]

We're being adults today.

[She groans, but it's a light-hearted sound.] Trust me, I'd rather talk about you than about that.

How about I make you a deal? We can talk about it after.

You'll either end up regretting it, or using it as a distraction. [They're interrupted by the whistling of the teapot. Mae takes a moment to pour them both the hot water before dropping a bag of tea - how anti-British - into each cup, and taking it to the table.]

So...what do you want me to say?

Just whatever comes to your mind in the first place.

Whatever comes to mind... [She takes a while to start, in the end. Sits down, pulls her cup closer, and stares at the way the water darkens, before remembering to get her plate with cake as well.

She's been here for a year and for a year she's been reticent to talk about Annabel. She could've. She's had opportunities, but to this day only one more person in the City knows of it - and he's not likely to say, when he knows she's good with a gun because he showed her how. Still opening up that can again...it has her hesitating, her stomach turning unpleasantly, because when it comes down to it, there is one thing to say: she misses her.]

I wish - we could've given each other the chance to understand one another earlier.

It's not your fault.

[ She doesn't want to interrupt Mae from the flow of her thoughts so she's careful as she talks. ] The whole mother-daughter relationship is hard for everyone.

Annabel...wasn't ready to be one, when she had us. [She shrugs; it's a fact, their mother was unprepared to deal with affection and understanding of her children, as strange and unique as they'd turned out.] My father probably wanted...I don't know, a testdrive on parenthood. God knows he bailed on us as soon as we proved to be less than manageable, and is managing quite fine with his ideal family now.

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