entranceway | Astral Destruction

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Astral Destruction

[ Clementine and Mae appear on the screen. It’s a little girl and a cat girl. They’re standing in a room on the first floor. Clem has a crowbar in her hand, slung over her shoulder. Mae has her trusty baseball bat and a very cat-that-got-the-canary grin on her face.]

Hey, so… Mae told me about how she breaks shit sometimes and how it’s… cathartic? [ that’s the word she used, right? ] And I tried it with a light bulb. It felt pretty damn awesome so we thought it might be cool to have an official place where people could break stuff whenever they needed to deal with bullshit.

[Mae immediately picks up the thread, grinning wide.]

So we are super effing pleased to introduce…The Destruction Room.

[She pans the camera over to the sign on the door. It’s generic and straight to the point. Then she pans the camera around to take in the room. There’s rows of shelves filled with china plates, vases, glass figurines and other fragile-looking items. Along the walls are dozens of light fixtures and free-standing lamps, as well as just a metric ton of lightbulbs, both fluorescent and incandescent. All of it is very precariously displayed and it looks like it wouldn’t take much to just knock some of these shelves right over.]

Isn’t it amazing? We stocked it with everything that could possibly go smash.

[Clementine gestures then to have Mae pan the camera toward the wall on the side which has a giant weapon rack with every blunt weapon imaginable from bats to maces to hammers and more. ]

Over on this wall, we’ve got every blunt weapon you can think of so you can really make the breakables crack into a hundred awesome pieces. Also, it’s on the first floor, room 4 so if you hit yourself in the foot or get glass stuck in your arm or something, the clinic’s right next door.

Yeah, we pretty much thought of everything. Because we’re awesome.

[Mae holds out her hand to Clementine for a high-five. Clementine leans over, high fiving her back, with a smile. Totally awesome. ]

Anyway, yeah, come on down and get your smash on. Work out some of that pre-event anxiety or whatever.

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( clementine sees the delight in his expression. she sort of figured most adults would question how good an idea it is to have a room for destroying stuff, and well, even some of the other kids, they're not really sure about it. she's fine with it since she doesn't really care what most people think, but-

she can tell he likes the idea, and it makes her smile. it makes her feel sort of proud of herself too. )

No age limit.

It turns out people of all ages need to break shit sometimes. Instead of ruining your own stuff or trying to think of something breakable to pull out of a closet at short notice, there's a room that's already got it all ready for people.

Edited 2017-08-05 17:41 (UTC)

[ well he wouldn't usually advocate anything that results in injury, but his paternal instincts aside, he recognizes that clementine needs this, and needs this in ways and for reasons most girls her age wouldn't. she is angry, and lonely, and in near-constant danger, terror, and helplessness at home. her desire to have a place where she can work through this freely, and perhaps more importantly, provide it and connect with others for it, overrules an incumbent accident it has the potential to bring about.

and quite simply, he knows how it feels, to want to break something.

she shouldn't have to handle all things herself, but he knows she's capable enough to handle a scratch or two.

(she saved his sister. he wishes she hadn't needed to, that someone or he could have been there to do so himself, but she can do it. it's something he's found himself thankful and proud and heartbroken to know, all at once.) ]

Well, we can be glad of that. Have you considered any protection in lieu of abstinence? Providing helmets and gloves; things like that. [ no reason to invite injury. ]

Edited 2017-08-05 18:33 (UTC)

( clementine was very grateful that she was able to save his sister. it's funny how the last event was really terrible for a lot of people. it put them in danger. for clementine, it gave her perspective. it helped her after her drunken rambling on the network when she was feeling lost, when she was feeling like she had no where to go and nothing to do with all the screwed up bits of herself. )

...that's a good idea.

I haven't thought about it before. Maybe because we never had any of that stuff at home, but we can get whatever the hell we need from the closets here. That is very fancy, wise advice, Klaus. ( she smiles fondly since she called his accent/voice fancy the first time they ever spoke, and it's why she brings the 'fancy' back now. )

Do you ever break stuff when you're upset? ( she's never actually seen him upset to that level, but. )

[ and no one can tell her where to go, what to do. klaus knows better than most that the only person who can put together those jagged edges and broken parts are those who own them. he's glad to see her making progress, particularly after witnessing the nightmare that is her life.

klaus smiles too; he appreciates the callback. they seems to make it in every interaction one way or another. it's a smile that fades, hearing her question, for the answer is more violent and darker than he has any place or desire to tell her. klaus looks away, lips parting to speak, but no words come forth, not at first.

he also has no desire nor intention to lie to her. ] Often times I break what can't be fixed. [ people. bonds. peace.

he finds a measure of that smile again, that pride. ] Which is all the more reason why I think your endeavors are important. Anger is a tool but it is also a poison. We shouldn't let it poison us.

( clementine doesn't look away even as he does. she is not ashamed. she is not afraid either. she folds her arms loosely across her chest, but she nods. )

Fixing what we break is really fucking difficult. I've never been able to do it but I've- I've broken things at the edge when there was nothing else. ( she doesn't ever- well. she breaks. she attacks. she fights back. it's endless. she stares down at her hands then as he explains. it makes sense. it's not easy but it makes sense. )

What happens if we let it poison us?

[ it's klaus' turn to not look away. he cannot, hearing the subtleties of her confession. he wonders who — what — how — why. to know clementine knows even a fraction of that rage and pain sobers him. he knows what he would do to protect her. it doesn't soften the heavy truth of what he says next; it necessitates it. ] We hurt everything we touch. [ all those he has loved and hated and hardly cared for in a thousand years have suffered his wrath. his pain.

he pauses, leans forward, and with different gravity, he adds, ] But most of all, we hurt ourselves. [ and that is what matters. that is what she doesn't deserve. ] That is the greatest violence. That's where it starts.

Edited 2017-08-07 01:11 (UTC)

( clementine looks down at her own hands, knowing what they are capable of, what they have done before when it comes to destruction, when it comes to murder and death and blood. she swallows and stares at those same hands for a very long time before she lifts her head to look at him when he continues. she can't even say she cares about hurting herself.

maybe she should. she barely cares about hurting other people. she just does what she has to in order to survive. )

It's hard to have anything you want when you hurt everything you touch. ( it's said softly after a moment, and she closes her eyes, breathes out and then breathes in again. her gaze lifts up to his. ) You've hurt yourself for awhile?

( it's asked in concern after a moment understanding, knowing. understanding there is much she doesn't understand or know. )

[ there was a time when he cared. he cared about the people he slaughtered; he cared that he slaughtered them. there is something in him broken from the experience, from the decision, from the repetition. he barely cares about hurting other people.

when he does, it doesn't stop him.

she should care. she should do whatever it takes to survive, but she should care about herself. she should carve a place out in herself to do so, because with pain comes love, and she deserves to accept as much as she has. it is hard to have anything you want when you hurt what you touch.

klaus blinks at the question. he blinks to stay the tears threatening to sting his eyes. ] Yes. It's not a fate I would wish for anyone, nor do I believe you would wish it for yourself.

Edited 2017-08-07 01:33 (UTC)

( clementine is young, but she doesn't know- she doesn't know how much she cares about the blood spilled by her hand. about the blood she watched spilled by other's hands. kenny beat the shit out of carver's face with a crowbar, and she watched.

she stood there. she watched. she didn't flinch. clementine is not good. she examines his expression. her throat locks up. )

I don't think it always matters what we wish for ourselves, Klaus. ( and he knows that too. she senses his knowing, his understanding. it makes her more honest than normal. her chest clenches. her eyes burn as she looks the other way. ) Life happens.

I'm not... good.

[ he does know. he knows from his father's fists and his mother's indifference. he knows that she knows, that the terrible truth of it bears down on him not from his memories but from knowing she carries terrible weight of her own. he can feel it now, as she struggles just as he not to cry, not to crumble.

his smile is watery. ] Well that's okay. I'm not good either. [ he will not argue with her or tell her merciful lies: he will give her acceptance, forgiveness. it's more than he ever had. he will not convince her to believe what she is too smart and too old to believe. ] I don't believe that's all we can be, all we deserve.

Edited 2017-08-07 01:59 (UTC)

Good is overrated. ( clementine smiles softly through an ache. good is not real except with a certain few people who are very, very good despite- despite it all. she swallows thickly, folding her arms tighter across her chest then.

she looks at him curiously. )

So what do you believe then?

[ in this, between them, for her, it certainly is. goodness has often been a luxury, a phantom, a piece of humanity cast out, a relic of times long passed to klaus, but that does not mean it does not live on in others. (in a faint, burning light, in him; though he wouldn't dare to admit it. wouldn't dare to touch or nourish or embrace it but a little at a time, afraid of its light.

afraid of how it has altered him.)

klaus smiles too, a small but genuine warmth offered, and answers after a pause of thought. ] I believe that people are complex. Sometimes they do bad things, sometimes they do good things, and often they do both. But the truth that defines them is their heart. [ a simplified explanation, perhaps, but no less true for it. he believes in her heart—but more than that, he believes in the tangled, twisted part of her that needs love too. ] We can only hope to follow it, when we're brave.

[ he is not always brave. he knows she has witnessed people who are not brave, done things brave people do not do.

perhaps that's why he adds, in a soft and just as curious voice: ] What is it you believe, Clementine?

Edited 2017-08-12 01:16 (UTC)

( clementine quiets as he explains, and it makes sense. she never used to let her think too deeply about it. then she thought about it too much until all those thoughts started to drown her, which led to her anonymous post on the network. it's easier to think about the details after finding some way to let some of that all out.

she nods in understanding, because being brave is not easy. )

It would take being brave just to look inside and see your own heart.

( it would take a level of vulnerability to feel both the weaknesses and strengths, the hopes and the fears, to level the sorry and the guilt. she swallows at the question, shaking her head briefly. )

I think back where I'm from I believe different things. ( she believes it's better to avoid everyone, to make it on her own with aj only, because people die or leave or betray. wonderland has changed her with all the relationships she's made here, all the people who haven't betrayed her. ) But here I think people aren't- They're not only good or only bad like... I'm not.

( it's a very powerful realization given the dark places she's been in, given calling herself not-good moments ago. she's not bad either. )

We do good things and bad things. Sometimes it's more important how we deal with the bad things we've done. Guess that's... following your heart.

[ something vulnerable and touched in his eyes uncovers; she's right. it does take bravery to look inside see the bad, but also the good in one's heart, and the revelation of it reaches into him and stays. (this is what he's been afraid of, for centuries. seeing the horror and virtue inside of himself.

knowing how one has warped the other.)

klaus swallows thickly, but does not speak. he listens instead, lets clementine's own gentle realization come to light. he lets it buoy and comfort him, knowing his own sins and sorrows run far too deep. he's glad for it, for her to find some guidance, some peace.

she should believe that, that she should follow her heart. she should practice that. klaus' expression softens. he nearly smiles. ] You are a very intelligent young girl. And I think you deserve some ice cream.

( clementine can't really imagine what must be going on in his head. she catches the shift in expression even if she doesn't pinpoint the thoughts they're attached to. and she doesn't have to. they've spoken before about regrets and about being responsible for the death of someone they love. this is the first time they've talked about goodness too. sometimes it's really good to think she can reach someone else too. she can help.

she's so used to fight or flight. she's used to survival that means leaving people screaming and dying behind or pulling the trigger herself. it's good to have this reminder of the lighter parts of herself- the softness inside of her, which somehow survived. it somehow wasn't carved out by her harshness.

she smiles, and it's warm. )

You're right. I deserve a lot of ice cream. Do you want some too?

[ the softness inside of him has somehow survived, or it was reborn anew when his daughter was born. it's easy enough to not think of those sins that he committed, again and again, to twist that softness he maimed, again and again. (it was not just mikael who ruined him — he ruined himself too.) it's easy enough because he has someone to smile for, someone to lend and create hope for, in this little girl.

so he does. ] I would never say no to ice cream.

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Astral Destruction

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