Clary Fray/Fairchild (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
babyhunter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pineslog2017-05-02 09:54 pm
babyhunter) wrote in pineslog2017-05-02 09:54 pm
001 - On my own
Who: Clary Fray & OPEN
Where: Home/Shelter/General Store
When: May 01 – 08
What: Day to day stuff, feel free to tag at any point during any post.
Warnings: None
[Open/]
Clary had been settling into life as best as she could. It was awkward living alone, she wasn’t completely used to it yet, and there was a lot of uncertainty in her day to day life. She found comfort in simple tasks or memories. Like staying up late and eating a copious amount of junk food.
When she could, she’d convince Jack to sleep over. A lot of times they’d fall asleep on the couch, the TV blared some random cartoon that Clary had managed to find on the few channels she got without cable. She had some VHS tapes but they were mostly Disney movies and you could only watch The Lion King so many times before you craved to watch anything else. She’d ask for something more violent but then again Disney never really shied away from violence.
Just look what happened to Simba's dad.
They were sitting on the couch, Clary was hogging the popcorn, and watching Darkwing Duck. The TV was old with thin static lines running along the top of the screen. It worked well enough that Clary found no reason to try and save up and replace it. Her nose scrunched up at the screen as a duck in a cap pulled a rather large comical looking leaver, dropping another duck in a whole. "So wait, why are they ducks? Do you think this would be as popular if they were all polar bears or something?" She was getting bored with the show but she’d keep watching if only for something menial to focus on.
A knock at the door pulled her attention and she leaned forward, placing the popcorn bowl down. "I’m coming." She shouted at the door before stepping around the coffee table and pushing the front door open. She didn’t see anyone, instead there was a package sitting on her front porch.
"Ominous." She commented solemnly. "Hey, Jack, can you clear off the coffee table?" She placed the package down before pulling off the sticky tape that held it together. When she got the box open she found herself staring quizzically at its contents. "What? I said these weren’t mind." Apparently no one at the police station believed her when she said it was a mistake. Inside the box was a glass looking blade and then a long thin length of metal wrapped in black cloth. Her thoughts returned to the scene from one of her dreams before she pushed the thought away, looking up at Jack. "What do you think?"
The flooding hadn’t been ideal for her lawn which added to the frustration of having a lawn. She remembered living in something like a second floor apartment at one point; no lawn just a paved paradise of concrete and stone. Not to say that Clary didn’t like grass. She just liked grass that she wasn’t responsible for.
She’d gotten a warning stating that her grass was growing too long and that the two bushes out front of her home were becoming too ornery. That wasn’t the word used in the letter but when she stepped outside she noticed thick branches twisting up like nails clawing in all directions of what used to be a beautifully trimmed bush. It was a fitting description.
Dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple green tank top Clary decided to attack the yard with a vengeance. Her hair was pulled back and for at least half of the day there were a determined look spread across her face. She could be found at many different levels of lawn care. The first was fighting with the old push mower that she’d pulled out of the garage. After she couldn’t get it working she kicked it and cursed, somehow thinking that it’d roar to life from the intimidation. Nothing, not even lawn mowers, were intimidated by a thin five foot pale slip of a girl, Clary thought with dismay as she seated herself next to the old machine.
She could also be found staring at those two front bushes, having gotten the lawn finally mowed but not knowing what to do next.
Finally, Clary gave up and sat on her front porch with a glass of lemonade, mixed from the powered stuff she’d picked up at the store, and her sketchbook positioned on her lap. The stele was sitting next to her but try as she might, she couldn’t figure out what it was for. It just felt important to keep it with her.
Clary usually only worked a few days a week on alternating afternoons. This weekend she’d ask Randel for extra work, trying to save up for more painting supplies. She could have probably asked a family member for the money but Clary was firmly against borrowing, even if it was for something that she considered a good cause. At least at the animal shelter she might convince someone to buy one of her drawings. It was like making money on what she wanted to do only those profits went directly to the shelter.
It was usually busier on the weekends but there were still times when Clary was stagnant. She was left with her thoughts and found herself thinking about her dreams. Every morning she’d wake up and draw, spilling her dreams and nightmares onto a white page. Her most recent one had been of a boy with golden colored hair. She thought he was an angle but it felt stupid the more she repeated the thought in her head. She’d eventually snap out of her thoughts, usually due to the sharp nails of a dog or cat digging into her leg.
In the early afternoon she went from working in the main shelter to opening up the café attached to it. The cats that were currently in the room were following a thin sliver of sun that moved across the store front.
When someone entered Clary would look up, mostly to make sure none of the cats were making a mad dash to the outside world. Watching the café was more relaxed and often slower than her other work. Some people ordered a salad or smoothies but they mostly just sat around and played with cats. It never got too crowded because there were only so many cats to go around. Clary ended up sketching the most during this time, pausing only to greet and help those who came in.
Clary was resilient but it didn’t make life any easier. She moved through the notions of a normal life until she ran out of things to eat at her house. She wasn’t a frivolous shopper but she did manage to spend a great deal of time at the store, trying to figure out what to buy. She’d found that frozen foods fit her life style the most, that or buying large quantities of those dried noodle packets. Yes, they were bad for you and filled with salt but she was young and had no one in the immediate vicinity to tell her that it was a bad idea. That and they were a dollar; being feed for a dollar was very alluring.
She’d circle through the store a few times. She picked up: paper towels, batteries, frozen pizzas, cans of soup, soda, and other assorted foods. It was very obvious by what was in her cart that she wasn’t an avid chief.
Clary spent some time standing in front of the fruit before finally picking up two apples and a tiny collection of bananas. It wasn’t that she was healthy but apples and bananas were delicious. She also picked up orange juice, the kind that had somehow managed to extract all of its pulp. There was always extra pulp, no pulp and then regular when she went to the store. Clary couldn’t help but wonder if they put the pulp from the no pulp orange juice in with the extra pulp orange juice to then give it the extra pulp it claimed to have. It was a thought that earned itself a few minutes of Clary blocking the way before she finally moved.
On her way out she almost ran into someone, stopping just before her collection of food, which would make a college student proud, found its way to the floor. "Sorry. Guess I was zoning out."
Where: Home/Shelter/General Store
When: May 01 – 08
What: Day to day stuff, feel free to tag at any point during any post.
Warnings: None
[Open/]
BFF Sleep Over! – House L12 [Closed to Jack] – May 01
Clary had been settling into life as best as she could. It was awkward living alone, she wasn’t completely used to it yet, and there was a lot of uncertainty in her day to day life. She found comfort in simple tasks or memories. Like staying up late and eating a copious amount of junk food.
When she could, she’d convince Jack to sleep over. A lot of times they’d fall asleep on the couch, the TV blared some random cartoon that Clary had managed to find on the few channels she got without cable. She had some VHS tapes but they were mostly Disney movies and you could only watch The Lion King so many times before you craved to watch anything else. She’d ask for something more violent but then again Disney never really shied away from violence.
Just look what happened to Simba's dad.
They were sitting on the couch, Clary was hogging the popcorn, and watching Darkwing Duck. The TV was old with thin static lines running along the top of the screen. It worked well enough that Clary found no reason to try and save up and replace it. Her nose scrunched up at the screen as a duck in a cap pulled a rather large comical looking leaver, dropping another duck in a whole. "So wait, why are they ducks? Do you think this would be as popular if they were all polar bears or something?" She was getting bored with the show but she’d keep watching if only for something menial to focus on.
A knock at the door pulled her attention and she leaned forward, placing the popcorn bowl down. "I’m coming." She shouted at the door before stepping around the coffee table and pushing the front door open. She didn’t see anyone, instead there was a package sitting on her front porch.
"Ominous." She commented solemnly. "Hey, Jack, can you clear off the coffee table?" She placed the package down before pulling off the sticky tape that held it together. When she got the box open she found herself staring quizzically at its contents. "What? I said these weren’t mind." Apparently no one at the police station believed her when she said it was a mistake. Inside the box was a glass looking blade and then a long thin length of metal wrapped in black cloth. Her thoughts returned to the scene from one of her dreams before she pushed the thought away, looking up at Jack. "What do you think?"
Out front of her house - L12 [OPEN] – May 04
The flooding hadn’t been ideal for her lawn which added to the frustration of having a lawn. She remembered living in something like a second floor apartment at one point; no lawn just a paved paradise of concrete and stone. Not to say that Clary didn’t like grass. She just liked grass that she wasn’t responsible for.
She’d gotten a warning stating that her grass was growing too long and that the two bushes out front of her home were becoming too ornery. That wasn’t the word used in the letter but when she stepped outside she noticed thick branches twisting up like nails clawing in all directions of what used to be a beautifully trimmed bush. It was a fitting description.
Dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple green tank top Clary decided to attack the yard with a vengeance. Her hair was pulled back and for at least half of the day there were a determined look spread across her face. She could be found at many different levels of lawn care. The first was fighting with the old push mower that she’d pulled out of the garage. After she couldn’t get it working she kicked it and cursed, somehow thinking that it’d roar to life from the intimidation. Nothing, not even lawn mowers, were intimidated by a thin five foot pale slip of a girl, Clary thought with dismay as she seated herself next to the old machine.
She could also be found staring at those two front bushes, having gotten the lawn finally mowed but not knowing what to do next.
Finally, Clary gave up and sat on her front porch with a glass of lemonade, mixed from the powered stuff she’d picked up at the store, and her sketchbook positioned on her lap. The stele was sitting next to her but try as she might, she couldn’t figure out what it was for. It just felt important to keep it with her.
Lotus Street Animal Shelter/Cat Cafe [OPEN] – May 06 - 07
Clary usually only worked a few days a week on alternating afternoons. This weekend she’d ask Randel for extra work, trying to save up for more painting supplies. She could have probably asked a family member for the money but Clary was firmly against borrowing, even if it was for something that she considered a good cause. At least at the animal shelter she might convince someone to buy one of her drawings. It was like making money on what she wanted to do only those profits went directly to the shelter.
It was usually busier on the weekends but there were still times when Clary was stagnant. She was left with her thoughts and found herself thinking about her dreams. Every morning she’d wake up and draw, spilling her dreams and nightmares onto a white page. Her most recent one had been of a boy with golden colored hair. She thought he was an angle but it felt stupid the more she repeated the thought in her head. She’d eventually snap out of her thoughts, usually due to the sharp nails of a dog or cat digging into her leg.
In the early afternoon she went from working in the main shelter to opening up the café attached to it. The cats that were currently in the room were following a thin sliver of sun that moved across the store front.
When someone entered Clary would look up, mostly to make sure none of the cats were making a mad dash to the outside world. Watching the café was more relaxed and often slower than her other work. Some people ordered a salad or smoothies but they mostly just sat around and played with cats. It never got too crowded because there were only so many cats to go around. Clary ended up sketching the most during this time, pausing only to greet and help those who came in.
French’s General Store [OPEN] – May 08
Clary was resilient but it didn’t make life any easier. She moved through the notions of a normal life until she ran out of things to eat at her house. She wasn’t a frivolous shopper but she did manage to spend a great deal of time at the store, trying to figure out what to buy. She’d found that frozen foods fit her life style the most, that or buying large quantities of those dried noodle packets. Yes, they were bad for you and filled with salt but she was young and had no one in the immediate vicinity to tell her that it was a bad idea. That and they were a dollar; being feed for a dollar was very alluring.
She’d circle through the store a few times. She picked up: paper towels, batteries, frozen pizzas, cans of soup, soda, and other assorted foods. It was very obvious by what was in her cart that she wasn’t an avid chief.
Clary spent some time standing in front of the fruit before finally picking up two apples and a tiny collection of bananas. It wasn’t that she was healthy but apples and bananas were delicious. She also picked up orange juice, the kind that had somehow managed to extract all of its pulp. There was always extra pulp, no pulp and then regular when she went to the store. Clary couldn’t help but wonder if they put the pulp from the no pulp orange juice in with the extra pulp orange juice to then give it the extra pulp it claimed to have. It was a thought that earned itself a few minutes of Clary blocking the way before she finally moved.
On her way out she almost ran into someone, stopping just before her collection of food, which would make a college student proud, found its way to the floor. "Sorry. Guess I was zoning out."
no subject
"Hn. Stubborn."
no subject
"Welcome to my hell." Clary spoke as she dropped to the grass near the lawnmower. She wasn't about to sit to close and tempt it to turn on next to her. She felt like that's something a lawnmower would do, just to be spiteful.
"Got any other ideas? If not I'm going to just pay someone to cut my lawn."
no subject
"So how's life?" he asked without lifting his head.
no subject
"Life is very life like." She said a little too sarcastically.
Clary exhaled before shaking her head. "It's busy and stupid and confusing. I really hate all this yard stuff. I was thinking of writing to mom to tell her I'm moving but I don't know where I'd go." It was stupid but she felt lonely in her house and since there was only one bed room, she couldn't really invite someone else to live with her.
"What about you?"
no subject
no subject
"I haven't gotten any word from her. Not a call or anything. I'm beginning to think that something is wrong but everyone seems to think that it's fine."
no subject
no subject
Clary pushed herself back to her feet. She walked over to the lawn mower and looked down at it. "I don't know if that applies to law mowers. I'll just call the guys at the shop and see if someone can look at it. I don't think it's been used in ages."