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The Big Sleep.; Private. Paging Violent-Medic
Topic Started: May 14 2017, 10:30 PM (138 Views)
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The idea of ghosts was, inherently, pretty fucking scary.

Clarice didn’t know if it was the old stories her mother had told her. The myths and legends. The inbuilt fear of the dead coming back. Clarice wasn’t all that religious, nor did she entirely buy into the idea, but she didn’t really disbelieve it either. It was one of life’s maybes. Or, on a more basic level, maybe it was just the fact that you couldn’t punch a ghost. Ghosts did whatever the fuck they wanted.

The bottom line was that Clarice hated graveyards. They made her itch. And at night? Who the fuck went into a graveyard at night?

Apparently, the answer was ‘her new sister.’ Future sister. Whatever. Clarice had only found out a week ago that this was even going to be a thing. She hadn’t known her dad was seeing anyone until then.

That was fine, she supposed. She hadn’t told her dad that she was dating Conrad, either. That shit’s his own business. And she didn’t mind the idea of him getting married, in theory. Maybe she felt a little weird about having a non-Navajo parent. And maybe she was a little afraid that this would just turn into a marriage like her parents had once had. But if it made her dad happy, then she wasn’t going to complain. And Debbie seemed nice.

Scout, though? Well, Clarice wasn’t sure yet.

Clarice’s feet crunched on various twigs. No stealth at all. She squinted in the darkness, until she heard some distant swears and saw a silohette near a headstone. Scout? Probably. One way to be sure.

“OI, SCOUT. THAT YOU?”

Subtlety was for nerds.
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“Oops.”

Maybe yelling had been a bad idea. Well, no use whining about spilt milk and graveyard grass stains. Now Scout was rolling around on her belly, and it was kind of awkward. Clarice hoped she hadn’t caused her to break anything, but mostly it seemed like only her dignity was a little bruised.

“The graveyard’s not that far from the road, y’know. Plus you’re throwing rocks, and there’s not all that many places to go this late. Trust me, I ran off all the time when I was a kid. Not that I’d go into the graveyards, but… yeah.”

Clarice shifted uneasily, looking around at the various gravestones, before trotting forward and offering a hand for assistance.

“You alright? ...I mean, you shouldn’t really be sitting on a corpse-rock to begin with.”
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“Well, uh… if the zombie apocalypse did happen, graveyards have to be the top three terrible places to be at the start. Labs and morgues being the other two. But yeah, remind me to tell you some of the stuff my mom taught me when I was a kid. Somewhere more well-lit, though.”

Clarice watched Scout as she awkwardly squirmed. The vivid orange of her hair was a big pull on the eye. Obviously, Clarice had seen orange hair before. She wasn’t a hermit. But family-wise, no-one had orange hair. They were a big ol’ pack of brunettes or darker.

“This whole new family thing was kind of abrupt, huh?” Clarice made a little jazz hand gesture. “’Surprise! New parent, new sister! Changes for everyone! We’re probably gonna have to move, because this house can barely fit two people to begin with! It probably won’t be out of town, but given the rest of the changes who fucking knows! Cool?’”

Clarice lowered her hands.

“No offence to you or your mother or anything. But yeah. I can see where you might get 'shit' from.”
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