( naturally, clarisse would find herself at fight club, drawn in by its gravitation pull of violence and spectacle. the violence is in her blood; the spectacle is just something she enjoys, the cheers of the crowd as she body slams another opponent into the ground fueling the fire in her veins. it's a rush, and most of the time it's senseless, an easy way to just let go for a few minutes. maybe it's not the most conventional way to relax, but for a child of war, stress relief rarely involves not punching something (or someone).
her knuckles are bleeding when she steps out of the ring, her lip busted bad enough it almost looks like an extension of the scar that runs along her chin. it's nothing she's not used to. it doesn't even really hurt, stings a little maybe but —
then there's a familiar face, and an even more familiar voice, and it feels like her chest is cracking open, her lungs made of lead. rationally, she knows it shouldn't be impossible. at this point in her life, especially given where she is now, nothing should be impossible. and yet ... for an agonizing moment, she refuses to let herself believe it's true. that silena is here. right there. alive and beautiful and real. clarisse almost thinks to run the other way. there's so much she never got to say before — what if she screws it up now? does she even deserve to be in silena's presence?
she watches silena work, her heart beating faster with every passing second. this is never how she imagined they would meet again. she thought, surely, she'd be dead, and they'd see each other in elysium. she hasn't even allowed herself to say silena's name in years, unless absolutely necessary. it's always been too painful. so it sounds strained, unsure, when she finally says it, )
˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚ !!!!
her knuckles are bleeding when she steps out of the ring, her lip busted bad enough it almost looks like an extension of the scar that runs along her chin. it's nothing she's not used to. it doesn't even really hurt, stings a little maybe but —
then there's a familiar face, and an even more familiar voice, and it feels like her chest is cracking open, her lungs made of lead. rationally, she knows it shouldn't be impossible. at this point in her life, especially given where she is now, nothing should be impossible. and yet ... for an agonizing moment, she refuses to let herself believe it's true. that silena is here. right there. alive and beautiful and real. clarisse almost thinks to run the other way. there's so much she never got to say before — what if she screws it up now? does she even deserve to be in silena's presence?
she watches silena work, her heart beating faster with every passing second. this is never how she imagined they would meet again. she thought, surely, she'd be dead, and they'd see each other in elysium. she hasn't even allowed herself to say silena's name in years, unless absolutely necessary. it's always been too painful. so it sounds strained, unsure, when she finally says it, )
Silena?