clementine navarro, 21.
werewolf, dude
the wind scatters it; the dew dampens it with time, even the white petals will witherwithout remembering they were once transparent
TIMING: February
LOCATION: The Worm Hole
PARTIES: Talia & Daniel ( @causefulmoon )
SUMMARY: Talia and Clem meet and bond.
CONTENT WARNINGS: None
Clem had counted it out, now. Three times. Three times, she had been affronted by a scent that twisted around not just any given person, but only specific people. Rory and Jasper had been the first two, and now this woman who sat at the bar. She’d been busy kicking the jukebox to death, eager to get it to skip the ever-stuck Hey Jude track, but it wasn’t budging. She had half a mind to unplug it, but then Abe might get pissed, and the last thing she wanted to do was deal with an angry Abe. She saw him out of the corner of her eye, staring her down from where he sat, beer in hand. She gave a fake smile, lifting her hand with a wave. He continued to stare at her as she made her way back to the bar. “Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.
She rounded the bar, then planted herself in front of the woman. The closer she was, the more present it was– the scent of something unmistakable, but something she couldn’t necessarily place. Maybe they all got their oddly scented perfumes from the same place. Clem smiled at her, nonetheless. “What’re you having today?” It wasn’t until she was looking at her did she realize this wasn’t the first time she had met her. In fact, if Clem were correct, her name was… something with a T. After a moment. Talia! “Wait– I think I know your usual, don’t tell me.”
—
The Worm Hole wasn’t Talia’s first choice of dive bar. Hell, no location in Worm Row really was, not unless she was meeting up with Emilio. But the Chimera had felt strangely unwelcoming to her lately – not through any fault of the bar itself, or its patrons. But after getting played by a ranger like she had, Talia wasn’t sure she deserved to settle into the safe space for shifters that Chimera was. She hoped that feeling faded, but until it did, she was drinking at the Worm Hole, just like she had been for the past two weeks.
As it was, at least it wasn’t Rory working at the bar. Not that Talia didn’t like Rory, the opposite, but it was sort of like trying to get drunk while your little sister was the one serving you drinks. Not ideal. This one, though, was doing the world a noble service in trying to get the jukebox unstuck from that awful fucking Beatles song. “I’ll give you a hint,” she said with a good-natured smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It begins with whiskey and ends with ginger.”
It was a little funny, to Talia at least, that the trio of young female bartenders at the Worm Hole were all werewolves. (Unless you asked Rory, of course.) Even if it weren’t the Chimera, she was at least hanging out with a fellow werewolf. “And thank you, by the way. At least for trying.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the jukebox. “I fucking hate the Beatles.”
—
“Fuck. See, I told you not to tell me.” She grabbed a whiskey glass from the rack, then began the preparations for the drink. Clem was quick with the order, sliding it across the bartop to her. There was no real rush, but she liked to keep herself spry, especially if a gaggle of college students decided to swarm. Not that they came to The Wormhole willingly, but there was always that one group who decided to venture out. “Here you go.”
Clem followed the woman’s movement, then snorted. “Dude, you and me both. I fucking hate them, and for whatever reason, it’s always that song that it gets stuck on, and there’s not even a way to turn it down.” Maybe it wasn’t as loud as she thought it actually was, but did it really matter? “Abe gets a kick out of it, though.” She nodded towards the man who sat, clearly humming beneath his breath. “But anyway, how’s it going? I don’t think I’ve seen you in a bit.” She’d remember those eyes, disconnected from the lips that turned upwards– minimal effort, but not without emotion. “Talia, right?”
—
“Yeah, but I’m not really in the mood for 20 Questions while you tried to figure it out.” Talia was smiling, though, as she said it. And, see, she got her wish – a whiskey ginger delivered within minutes. “Thank you very much.” She tipped the glass in a salute before taking the first sip. The whiskey at the Worm Hole sucked, and was always bottom shelf, but that’s why she got a mixed drink here. It didn’t much matter, through the sweetness of the ginger ale.
Her head cocked at the bartender’s comment about the volume. It was loud, yes, but Talia knew that it was only loud to her. And to anyone else with enhanced hearing. Which meant this girl didn’t know all that much about being a werewolf. Or, fuck, maybe she didn’t even know she was one. While she wanted to believe that was impossible, Rory still thought she was a balam, so go figure. Talia had really wanted to just enjoy her drink, but now she had to try and…figure this out.
“Talia, yeah. I’ve been here a lot more, recently, I guess. But yeah, before that I had a different regular joint.” With a shrug, she added, “Guess I’m going through a phase or something. Anyway, I’m glad it’s you and not the other bartender. I know Rory a little too well to want her watching me drown my sorrows.” Not that Talia was drowning her sorrows. Not at all. She was just enjoying a drink out, alone. Away from her community, or any friends. But that was fine. Sometimes you just needed a change of pace. “How long have you been working here?”
—
“I really can’t blame you. I would’ve probably gotten the whiskey right, but the ginger ale would’ve come way later.” Clem thought she was pretty good at telling apart the dark liquor drinkers from the light liquor drinkers. It was also possible that she was too full of herself in regards to this stupid job to think otherwise. “Yeah, no worries.”
Clem was just tall enough to reach the top of the bar and properly lean with her arms crossed. The opposite side, where Talia sat, was a little lower than the side she was on. She’d been lucky that it’d been raised by concrete, or else she would’ve definitely needed a step stool.
Usually, Clem would step aside and let the patrons enjoy their drink (unless they engaged her in conversation first), but the familiar smell she picked up off of Talia made her want to stay put, just like it’d done with both Rory and Jasper. “Talia.” She nodded, glad to know she was right. Clem’s eyes lit up at the mention of her friend and co-worker. “You know Rory? That’s sick. She’s pretty cool, right?” It was lost on her (kind of) how Talia didn’t want to be around Rory for the night, but still. At her question, she shrugged. “A couple of months? Earliest, late October, latest… mid-November.” That seemed like a solid enough explanation.
—
That brought up a laugh from Talia, and a nod. It wasn’t hard, usually, for people to guess that she was a whiskey drinker. Maybe that was based on stereotypes, or maybe it just made her predictable, but that was her drink of choice. Unless she was pandering to Emilio, and dipping into the tequila. “Normally, it would be just the whiskey,” Talia said with a nod. Or an old fashioned, but that was only when she was feeling particularly fancy. “But, no offense, the whiskey here is way too shitty to drink on its own.”
“We’re… We know each other, yeah. Met kind of randomly and just stayed in touch.” Talia’s relationship with Rory was as strange as it was strained. She liked that girl, a lot, and wanted to help her. It was clear the younger shifter needed guidance and a helping hand – however independent she wanted to appear. But as long as Rory was locked in her own delusion of being a balam, there wasn’t much she could do. Not that she blamed the other woman, not really. It had become apparent that someone in Rory’s family had been lying to her for a very long time. It would take time to unravel from that. Talia understood that, maybe more than anyone else. “She’s very cool. I’m glad you two get along, always good to have someone you like at your work.”
Right. Talia definitely hadn’t really been to the Worm Hole since then. Late October was when she and Daniel had fallen into bed together and she was mostly wrapped up in him. If she wasn’t, she was drinking at home with Wyatt or Emilio, or heading to the Chimera. Not venturing into Worm Row. If it had been any earlier, she would definitely be worried that this was a new wolf, a human who had only recently gotten bitten and that was why Talia hadn’t picked up on it before. As it was, she couldn’t be sure whether Clem was a new wolf, or just…new. “Gotcha. I used to be a little more of a regular, but that was before your time, I guess.”
–
Clem wrinkled her nose. She knew that the type of liquor they had at The Wormhole was bottom of the barrel, but that’s what kept people coming back. The price never went up, and people got what they expected. It was ideal for everyone, at the end of the day. They didn’t pride themselves on having the oldest bottle of whiskey in Wicked’s Rest, but they did pride themselves on not having any pride! She was sure Harvey wouldn’t like that thought process, but she wasn’t vocalizing it, so it wasn’t like it really mattered. “Believe it or not, there’s way worse out there. Crazy, right?” That was the little defense she’d give her workplace, she decided.
As Talia went on to explain how she knew Rory, Clem nodded slowly. “That’s sick. We’re close in age, too, so it makes working like, way less annoying.” Steve didn’t typically get scheduled with either of them, and most of the time, they got stuck with Harvey. Not that he was the kind of person you got stuck with, but– “It is, though. I was always worried I’d hate all of my coworkers, but then Rory got a job here, and it’s made it way more chill.” They hadn’t worked together for all that long, but with the time they had spent together behind the bar, Clem had enjoyed it, that was for certain.
Clem drummed the bartop with her fingers. “Yeah, I think I’ve only seen you once or twice, served you both times. You know, it’s like, way easier to remember the people who don’t come here all the time than it is to remember the people who do?” She wasn’t sure if that was strange, or if that was natural. “Like, Abe for example, right?” She nodded towards him, though he made no inclination that he had heard his name, “he comes here every single day, and he orders the same exact thing.” She tilted her head to the side, “and somehow, I still fuck it up.” Then, she looked at Talia, “and you come here after… whatever time has passed, and I remember you liked whiskey.” It was a simple thing, and probably… not important, but Clem felt like it was.
—
“Oh, I believe it,” Talia said with a grin. She had been to a lot of those worse, whenever she joined Emilio on his Tour of Worm Row Bars Except Not Worm Hole For Some Reason. The Worm Hole was cheap and a drive, but at least it had ambiance. And food that wouldn’t kill you. And no actual worms (on most days). The alcohol was bad but so was the well alcohol in every other establishment this side of town. “I like it here. Sometimes you need this exact vibe and nothing more, you know?” There was something to be said for dive bars.
Close in age – that meant that this bartender didn’t just look young but was young. It had taken her a minute to remember that Rory was even old enough to drink and work at a bar. “Sorry, what was your name?” She would ask Rory about the other shifter bartender the next time she saw her. “I’m glad she has a friend to hang with.” Which might have seemed odd, to the other girl, but Talia did think of Rory as something of a little sister, no matter how unwarranted that may be. She wanted the younger girl to have friends, a place she could fit in. Even if it was at some run-down, Worm Row establishment. She didn’t know Harvey that well but she had heard he was good people – a good boss and adult for Rory to have around, maybe.
A look over her shoulder at the Abe in question had her wrinkling her nose. “Is he the Beatles fan?” she asked with a sneer in her tone. “He deserves to have his drink fucked up.” Turning back to the bartender, Talia put on a knowing face, eyebrows up with slight smile. “Anyway. The reason I asked if you were kinda new is because I figured I would’ve remembered another werewolf.” Her voice was low enough and this side of the bar was empty enough that she wasn’t worried about giving anything away to anyone.
—
“See, that’s what I keep trying to tell people, but they’re so hellbent on the whole…” She gestured vaguely around them, “place being like this.” Clem wasn’t going to die for The Wormhole, but she probably would die at the risk of saving Harvey’s reputation. If he did something stupid, though, then that was totally on him. She chewed the inside of her cheek. “You know, I’m so glad for your perspective, because I feel fucking crazy half the time trying to tell people how it really is here. It’s like, don’t talk shit if you’ve never stepped foot in here?” It was said with a snort as she rested her palms on the bartop, pushing back awkwardly so that she was rocking on her heels.
“Clementine!” She smiled at her, only slightly hurt that she hadn’t been remembered. Then again, wasn’t it her job to remember, and not everyone else’s? Besides, it was more effective for her to know the clientele than it was for the clients to remember her. They remembered Harvey most of the time, probably because he was the owner. And they’d probably remember Rory, for her personality– Clem, on the other hand, was just… “Me, too! I mean, I’m being super selfish over it, but if she ever gets fired or tries to leave, I’m going to totally grovel.” She found nothing out of the ordinary about Talia’s comments regarding Rory. “So, what’s got you drowning your sorrows, anyway?” She felt the need to ask, only because now, they were being brought up.
As much as she would’ve loved to of drag the Abe hate train through the mud, Talia said something that stopped her in her tracks. Not like with Daiyu. There was no.. judgement, no sneering – it was acceptance, at a base level. Excitement, maybe, too. Clem’s eyes lit up. “So that’s– look, I’m being so fucking real right now, I thought it was just, you know, the nose thing– I’m still…” To not seem over eager over something like finding somebody who would know you intrinsically was not Clem’s style, and it showed. In a hushed tone, she pushed forward on the bar, getting close enough but not too close. If Talia were a werewolf, then she’d be able to hear regardless, but Clem didn’t want to exactly broadcast the conversation. “Getting used to it. The nose thing, I mean.”
—
A shrug rolled over Talia as she sipped her drink. “People in town are weird about Worm Row, in general.” She wasn’t entirely sure what that was about, outside of just how this area was cheaper than others. But she had spent plenty of time on this side of town, visiting or hanging with Emilio mostly. The Pine may have been more her speed, but she felt plenty at home in Worm Row. “Think they’re all just a little stuck-up.” It seemed a little silly to get caught up in matters of class in a town as weird as this one, but Talia had never had much money or class, so maybe it was out of her realm of understanding.
“Clementine,” she repeated with a smile and a cock of her drink in hand. “I’ll remember that, next time.” And she would – especially given the werewolf of it all. The other wolves in town weren’t her responsibility, but Talia still liked to keep tabs on them. Just to make sure if they ever needed help, she would know the basics about them. She pulled a face, though, when Clementine asked what had her drinking that night. “Oh, you know. The usual. Heartbreak. Betrayal.” If she made light of it, made it into a joke, Talia could almost pretend she was fine. It was normal, what she and Daniel had gone through. Or… Well, rushing into things only to break up messily was normal. The particulars of what had broken them up were a little less normal. “That’s why I’m here instead of my other usual place. Nothing like a good dive bar when you need to wallow.” Not entirely true, but not an outright lie, either.
An amused smile spread its way across Talia’s face and she nodded as the girl rambled. A new werewolf, then – new to being a werewolf. Some of her excitement dimmed. Not that she had anything against pups, but it meant that someone had bitten Clementine. Her thoughts flickered to other werewolf bartender, Clementine’s friend, the werewolf who didn’t know she was a werewolf. Talia hoped Rory wasn’t responsible for this lone wolf. “Unfortunately, I can’t say that I understand. I’m born-wolf. Always been this way.” She rapped her fingers against the counter, taking a minute to think. “If you ever need anything, have any questions or whatever, just let me know, okay?”
—
“Oh, they’re totally stuck up.” She’d been dealing with it her whole life– the idea that Worm Row was some lawless place where people only went to go and die. She was pretty sure more people died in The Pines than they did anywhere else, but somehow, the town wasn’t ready for that conversation. Clem figured that anyone spending time at The Wormhole had to have some kind of affinity for Worm Row, though. Most people who ventured into the bar were not purposely obtuse, unless they were treating it like some kind of field trip. That was what usually happened with most of the college kids, but Talia seemed genuine as well as reasonable.
“Hey, thanks. I pride myself on like, being remembered.” Did she, though? Half the time it felt like people were forgetting her. But it wasn’t about her right now, was it? Talia was at the bar to forget something (that totally wouldn’t be her), and wasn’t it Clem’s job to help with just that? “This place is the best for wallowing.” She had half a mind to include that even the owner wallowed in it, but she wasn’t sure Harvey catching a stray like that when he wasn’t even around to defend himself was a great idea. “Whatever it is, you’re like, totally safe here.” She had half a mind to tell Talia that if whoever it was that broke her heart came into the bar, she’d kick them out, but most people would fixate on the idea that they could face said heartbreak, and begin spiraling, so instead, she kept her mouth shut.
“Wait, really?” She knew that they probably existed. That made the most sense, because if she thought about it too hard, trying to follow any kind of ‘family tree,’ then she just got confused. “I mean like, that makes sense. Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound super surprised.” She chewed the inside of her cheek as she looked at Talia. Clem was grateful for the extended hand. “I’ll like, totally take you up on that.” She had some questions– most of which she was currently blanking on. There was a commonality between the three of them now– herself, Talia, and Rory. Though, she wasn’t… exactly sure if Rory shared it at all, or if she just smelled similar. She was still new to it, so it made sense that it could be something else, right? “I was about to ask if it was super different, but I guess you wouldn’t really… know.”
—-
“Oh, it’s the usual story,” Talia said, waving her hand. The broad strokes, at least, might be usual. “Girl meets boy. They fall in love. They move too fast. They realize neither of them were what they originally thought.” The truth just had more werewolves and silver and dead siblings, but Clementine didn’t need to know all that. Especially not as a werewolf, and a new one, herself. “I don’t think he’d ever wander in here.” No, Daniel wouldn’t, but he certainly wouldn’t have wandered into the Chimera, either. She was avoiding her usual bar because of herself, not him. The alternate story, though, would make more sense to an outsider.
Another amused smile and Talia waved off her apology. “How would you have known? Like we said, you’re new to all this.” And apparently, whoever had bitten the girl hadn’t taken the time to explain any of it. She doubted they were even in contact with Clementine. All the more reason for Talia to step in, she figured. “I mean, I don’t know firsthand, but being around that many werewolves, I know basically all there is to know.” Talia could remember that boy she had a brief crush on, who had come to their pack searching and afraid after being bitten, doing everything he could–
“It’s…harder for bitten werewolves, unfortunately. Like, the shifts hurt more and the wolf is harder to control. But it’s like anything else: if you work at it, you can be just like a born-wolf.” She wasn’t entirely sure if she believed that, but she didn’t want to disparage Clementine after just offering to help her.
—
Clem nodded along, taking in the story. Part of being a bartender meant being able to understand the stories that got spun, didn’t it? She’d argue that she was some kind of lite-therapist, the kind that got to the nitty gritty, but the only advice given would be to tell whoever it was that had hurt them to go fuck themselves. Usually it was about love, and for a moment, Clem could pretend that she understood what love meant. Familial was an easy thing– she knew that like the back of her hand, knew how it could drag things from the corners of one’s mind and make everything… well, terrible, to say the least. Actual love– the kind that Talia spoke of now, however, was lost on her. But she was good at pretending to understand things she didn’t. Wasn’t she?
“Oh, fuck. I’m sorry.” Clem looked at the drink knowingly before nodding, some kind of confirmation to herself. “Your drink is totally on me tonight.” Heartbreak was a good reason to give things away, wasn’t it? “Not for just like, the heartbreak of it all, but because you also know Rory, and because–” She motioned between them, the werewolf part unspoken. Maybe that way, Talia would be less reluctant to accept the gift. “That’s so fucking cool. That you had your own pack and stuff.” That’s what it was, right? After the bite, Clem had imagined what it’d be like to run alongside those like her. She’d spent most of her shifts alone, aside from the deers she’d viscerated, but that wasn’t at all the same.
As Talia spoke, Clem spun circles of what if’s off in multiple different directions. She and Talia in the forest, running side by side– Talia’s wolf guiding them through the underbrush towards their next meal. Of learning to hone her skills of scent-tracking and– everything, all of it. It was exciting! Clem cleared her throat, nodding. “It’s– it fucking hurts, but like– I just, I trust her. It. Myself.” The wolf, she didn’t finish off. She wasn’t afraid of the word; she practically savored it on the back of her tongue every time it even came in as a thought, but still. “Thank you. I’ll like– I’ll do whatever you tell me to do. I won’t be stupid about it.”
—
Clem’s sympathy warmed Talia, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t mean more coming from another werewolf. The other shifter had no idea about the finer points of her relationship with Daniel (and she might not be so eager to comfort Talia if she did) but it still felt almost like validation. Like Talia could be welcomed back into the fold of shifters even after she had fallen for a ranger. “Hey, thanks,” she said, with a tip of her glass in a salute. “You’re still getting a solid tip, though. Because–” Talia repeated the motion that Clem had made, gesturing between the two of them.
Clem enthused over her pack, her family, and all she could do was muster up a weak smile. There were aspects about her pack she was grateful for, of course. Being a born wolf did make most things easier. And having a family that was so entrenched in being werewolves, she knew more than most shifters. “It helped with some things, yeah.” But Clem would never have to worry about the pressure of duty to a pack. She would never have to contend with a right or wrong way of being a wolf. She would never have to worry about being shunned from the only family she had ever known if she stopped being their perfect image of a wolf. It was strange to wonder which of them was better off.
(Talia still thought it was her, for the record.)
“I think of my wolf as her own being, too.” It had always been like that, for Talia. Her wolf was a part of her, and not. A piece of her, nestled somewhere deep in her chest, close to her heart. But very much its own creature, with its own instincts and movements and thoughts. She had never been able to accurately put it to words, but she had never really needed too. Other wolves knew what she meant, instinctually, and anyone else didn’t need to understand. “And trusting it, yeah. Not fighting it will help make the transformation hurt less. Being in control of your wolf is a lot easier once you understand that it’s not about controlling it.” Talia sunk a wry smile into her whiskey before she drank. “Maybe that doesn’t sound like it makes sense, but it’s about trusting both your wolf and yourself enough to know that either won’t get out of hand.”
—
Talia mimicked– no, mirrored the motion Clem had done, signifying that they were one in the same, and she smiled. It was so broad that it made her cheeks hurt. It wasn’t a rare thing, to sniff out other beings in town. She’d noticed the differences immediately, but still had trouble understanding what they meant. It could be a perfume, or the act of being; all of it felt too complicated, until Talia. Until she was offering her a hand, to welcome her into something that Clem felt so intrinsically. It was fucking awesome. “I mean, I’m so not going to say no, but like, you know.” She shrugged, deciding that doing it again was probably overkill.
As Talia spoke, Clem leaned in, listening. The sound of The Beatles had practically been drowned out by Talia’s lesson. She trusted her wolf, didn’t she? Felt that with the change came the decision to let it live and breathe in a way that Clem hadn’t understood until her first full moon. Those moments had hurt (obviously), but the after had come with so much more. Clem nodded, fighting the urge to interrupt; to reassure Talia that that was exactly what she was doing. Putting trust into the wolf that lived within her was an important task, and she knew it.
“No, no! It like, makes total sense! I get it.” She probably didn’t, not to the degree that Talia was discussing with her, but that was only because she was new, wasn’t it? Clem wanted to understand, though; wanted to be a part of something bigger, to be a part of anything at all. To live life between her apartment and The Wormhole was a boring existence, even if she was grateful towards Harvey for it, but the whole werewolf thing added an entirely new objective. “I trust her. With my life, you know? Like, if I keep her safe, she keeps me safe.” A brief pause, “I keep myself safe.” I, she, we– the terms rolled around in Clem’s head like loose change in too large of a pocket. “God. Has anybody like, told you, ever, that you’re super cool?” Some would say she was laying it on too thick, but she meant it.
—
Talia grinned – glad that she had clocked Clem right. The girl was aching for some connection, community. Talia could provide that for her. She could be the first step into the shifter world and open her eyes to all the rest that existed. Like she had done for Maggie, and had tried to do for Rory. Again, she wondered just who had bitten Clem and left her on her own. It must have been an out-of-control wolf. One without a pack of their own, maybe. Or one who was ashamed of what they were and distraught at bringing someone else into it. She could sit thinking up scenarios all night but it would do no good. They had bit Clem and turned her and left her to it. Talia wouldn’t leave her alone, though.
She nodded along as Clem trailed through her own explanation of how she related to her wolf. There was no wrong way, she had long ago decided. Just some that were less efficient than others. But if you had a wolf with you, however you lived with it would be correct. Because it was your wolf. She had to grin as Clem stumbled over the pronouns. “Yeah, different people feel differently. And that’s just for werewolves.” Talia was certain that her wolf was something separate from her, but living within her. Like an alter-ego or– Or like a twin. “Other shifters have different things going on.” It was more concrete for balam, who had a spirit that was its own entity, or selkies, who kept their own mind more or less when they shifted. Wolves were a little more complex and heterogenous.
“The more you’re with it, your wolf, the more you’ll understand it.” Talia had found that it was like any relationship. If you spent time together and paid attention, you would learn. “It gets easier, I promise. Even for someone bitten.” Some in her pack had looked down on those who were bitten, rather than born, but she had just tried to impart to them what an honor it was, to be chosen to be brought into their ranks. It seemed that Clem understood that, already.
Talia laughed as she nodded, flattered even as she realized the bartender was overstating things. “It has been said before. But I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”
—
How long ago now had it been since she’d nearly bled out at the pond? It had taken roughly two months after the attack to remember it in its totality; to remember the screams she sent into the air, how she pleaded to not die in such a manner. Clem didn’t like to think about the pain she’d endured. She much rather focused on the life she went to lead because of it, accepting the gift wordlessly. Though, it wasn’t like she had much of a choice in the matter. It was either that, or die. She also refused to believe that perhaps she was naive– that simply accepting it hadn’t saved her life, but instead, she’d gotten lucky; something she’d never been.
“Other shifters. Right.” She would ask about that later, and maybe it was out of selfishness she didn’t delve into it then and there. She wanted more of their talk to be about the werewolf of it all. Other shifters existed, and that was great for them, but she was a fucking wolf, and what was better than that? Probably nothing, realistically. Clem had gotten lucky to get bitten by a wolf and not something else– what if she’d been pecked at by a bird-human-thing? Would she have shifted into a bird instead? Was that how it worked? She could’ve cleared up the confusion, but she didn’t want Talia looking down on her for not knowing much about this side of the world, either.
The promise Talia gave to her wasn’t a needed one, but she took it all the same– holding it close to her heart. “I could like, go on and on, but we’d totally go in circles, and I’m sure that’s not really why you’re here.” Maybe it was better than why she was there, actually. After a brief pause, Clem swiped her phone off of the mini fridge behind her. After entering in Talia’s name to her phone, she slid it across the bar. “Is it okay if I get your number? I mean, like, it makes sense, right? In case I have questions.” She chewed her lower lip, looking at the older wolf with a mix of both amazement and disbelief that she could’ve finally been handed something good.
—
Something soft and warm dawned over Talia’s face when Clem offered her phone over. She caught it easily. “Yeah. Of course. If you have any questions.” As she tapped her number in, that warmth only grew and spread, filling her chest. She could remember when she first came to Wicked’s Rest, hoping she could do something like Jacob had. Not as extensive as his pack, but providing support for shifters who might need it. Werewolves who didn’t know what was happening to them, berserkers who had been turned away from everyone else. Any shifter that needed a place, Talia wanted to be able to provide it for them.
At the time, though, she hadn’t been ready. There had been too much that she had to learn, too much of her own healing to live through, yet. Now, she felt steadier. Still with a length to learn and heal, but further along than she had been. Enough that she could be what Clem needed. (What Rory needed, maybe. And Maggie, and even Wyatt.)
“Or if you just want to talk,” she added, giving the younger girl her phone back. Or need someone to run with, for the full moon.” She kept her tone light and her face neutral as she extended the invitation. Talia wouldn’t smother Clem but she wanted her to know she had the opening. All she had to do was take it.
Everybody leaves you in the end. Ever think it's because you're not worth sticking around for?
I know it's because I'm not worth sticking around for <3 You don't think I don't already know that <3 Do you think I don't realize that I'm good for nothing and that the only thing I have going for me is the fact that I got bit, and now I barely have that, because I can't
It doesn't matter, I don't know anyone who cares only about whether or not they're wanted. Sounds like total losers to me.
[pm] No. It's like, a regular van, I think? And it plays the song. There's either real dogs or hot dogs in it, and we don't know which. I was hoping hot dogs, but then I realized Jade could probably be like, talking about real dogs, so it could be either now. [...] What if it's both?
Wow, usually the vans are trying to spy on people, never heard of trying to spy on a van. What'd it do to you?
Also, you need to stop doing this, Clementine Clem [...] It's SO MUCH like "Clam". Anyway, more information. Please. You can't just say "a van" and "a song". You need to give people like a shred of fucking' anything to go off of. Also, context. I need so much context.
No, you don't get it. It's like, there's a wienermobile, right? It's either hot dogs or like, real dogs, and me and Jade want to figure it out. We gotta figure it out, you know? So if you see it, lmk <3
There's literally nothing alike in those two words??? Hello??? Um. Well, if you KNEW about it, you'd know exactly what I was talking about, so?????????
SUMMARY: Clem & Wren meet up for a little hang out session and get to know each other a bit more, all while getting ready to spend Eden's money. Yay!
CONTENT WARNINGS: none!
It was hard for Wren to do the whole friend thing. Mostly because she didn’t know how to be a friend. Her relationships had practically gone up in smoke the moment she attacked some other sirens in her colony before fleeing. She couldn’t handle anyone else looking at her like she was a monster when she didn’t even remember what she had done, but Clem? It felt different. It felt like she could actually talk to her—despite her stumbling over her own tendencies to accidentally reveal weird aspects of her being a siren then backtracking. Wren wasn’t good at being a friend, she definitely wasn’t good at being a human, but she wanted to be for her new friend.
Standing outside Periwinkle Paints, Wren clutched her sketchbook and her new paints against her chest. She waved at the seagulls atop the roof with a cheerful little smile, turning back around and practically perking up the second she saw Clem. “Clem!” She called happily, resisting the urge to outright skip toward where her friend was approaching. “Hi, thanks for hanging out with me! I know we like—we talked about movies and I figured like—well—” She was rambling. She totally knew this. She couldn’t stop it, but she was trying. “—um, sorry. I get rambly when I’m nervous, but yeah! We can like… hang out then maybe movies? Or just walk! Whatever you want.” She finished with a shy, tentative smile.
—
Clem wasn’t really that surprised when Wren asked her to hang out again. They’d gotten along well enough, and while Clem’s life wasn’t brimming over with friendships, the one that she’d managed to forge with Wren was one that she felt like keeping up with, at the very least. It wasn’t a long walk from where she’d parked to the paint shop. She smelled her before she saw her, and while that could be considered strange to some, it was something that was a core part of her relationship with those around her. Now, she just really knew when people needed to shower.
Except, Wren smelled nice. Citrus and vanilla created a trail for her to follow, and Clem smiled at Wren. “Oh, totally!” She wasn’t used to people stumbling over their words with her, so this was new. “Nervous?” Clem blinked, unsure why any part of Wren could be nervous about hanging out with her. “Oh, because like, being outside?” That had to be it. She got it, sometimes, too. The thrum of anxiety in her throat, how it pooled, creating bile that made her chest burn. “I was thinking like, a movie at my apartment, maybe? But we can get some snacks or something, if you want? Then head back?” She jutted a thumb behind her, to a place that was further than Wren could see, “I parked like, way over there.” She smiled at Wren. “Maybe we can get some sushi or something. You know, a callback or whatever.”
—
At least Clem made it easy for Wren to not feel totally out of her depth with how easygoing she seemed to be. “Uh—yeah! Yeah. Outside just… has a lot of people. People in general make me nervous.” She babbled out, taking the out where she could get it. It’s not like it was a lie. People did very much make her nervous. Everyone made her nervous, but especially people she wanted to befriend, like Clem. Or at least befriend further? She didn’t know. Clem just made her nervous in a way that Wren hadn’t really ever felt before. A different nervousness that she couldn’t put a name on so she didn’t look at it too closely.
Nodding her head eagerly, Wren finally gave into the urge to skip a little to come to a bouncing stop beside Clem. “Yes! Yes, that sounds so fun. I love fish.” She hugged the sketchbook a bit tighter to her chest and laughed a little. “Hopefully Jeremy is having a terrible day.” She chirped with a little smile she shot in Clem’s direction. She started to walk toward where Clem gestured that she had parked. “I took my brother’s credit card so like—we can go crazy if we want. He won’t even notice. He’s a money spender like that.” She snorted.
—
“Oh, I totally get that.” Clem wasn’t a very nervous person by nature, but some people did just naturally make her more on edge, especially now with the whole werewolf thing being taken into account. “Is it like, bad to say you don’t need to be nervous around me? Like, feel what you feel, you know? But we’re totally cool.” She offered a warm smile to Wren, and it reached her eyes. She liked it when people liked her, despite the facade she often threw up. (Something, something, defense mechanism.) (Fuck, Nova was right–) “Plus, we like, robbed The Codfather together, technically, so like… legally, am I allowed to make you nervous?”
She looked to the sketchbook that Wren was clutching, making a mental note to ask her more about it later. Clem knew that sometimes, people didn’t like sharing their art; that it was a personal thing meant for their eyes only. She wondered if Wren was like that. “Fuck Jeremy, for real.” She wished she’d figured out what car he’d been driving, she would’ve egged it or something, or written something across the window in lipstick. (Not that she wore lipstick, but–) Clem fell into step easily beside Wren, letting out a laugh at her comment about the credit card. “Wait, for real? Maybe we’ll get specialty rolls instead of the cheaper stuff.” She stuck her hands into her pocket, tilting her head back a little to feel the sun on her face. “Do you go to the paint shop a lot?”
—
A surprised little laugh escaped Wren and she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not a bad thing to say, no. I’m just kind of—I’ve been perpetually nervous my whole life. It’s nothing against you, swear.” She admitted with a little shrug. “I’m trying this whole being brave thing. Putting myself out there, trying not to let it hold me back. Some days are easier than others, some harder.” Clem’s warm smile did put her at ease. “But yes, the robbing definitely bonds us. Hope you’re okay with being stuck with me now.” She said, hesitating before bumping her elbow playfully against Clem as she grinned a little.
It was easy to laugh with Clem it felt like. Another laugh fell from Wren’s lips as easy breathing. “Seriously! Who the heck ghosts people? It’s so messed up. I hope Jeremy has the worst day ever.” She giggled. Her head then nodded quickly. “Oh yeah. We can definitely get something special instead of the normal, cheaper stuff. Whatever you want. On me! Well, my brother, but still on me.” She giggled again, teeth digging into her bottom lip. Wren’s gaze swept over the side of Clem’s face, smiling despite herself. “Uh—yeah! Yeah, actually. I like to paint rocks and put them outside the house or give them as gifts. I also just like to draw in general. Do you—would you like a rock? I’d love to make you one!”
—
“I mean, like, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a really good job!” She thought back to The Codfather, and how having dinner with a stranger was more than most people would do, even if it had been something that’d been sprung on the both of them. Clem gestured to nowhere in particular, obviously pulling from the time they’d spent together at that dinner. “I mean, if we’re going to rob more lobster buckets, then totally!” She bumped Wren back, matching her grin. “But like, seriously, I think the world can suck a lot, and trying is really cool, too.” She knew how hard life could be at a base level. “Living here probably doesn’t make it any easier.” But she loved her small, stupid town. Even if it wasn’t that small in the grand scheme of things.
“Like, I guess unless you really have a reason for it, but even then…” Clem shook her head, thinking back to how the waitress’s discarded work clothing had been one of the things to help aid her in robbing them of their lobster buckets. “I hope he wakes up and stubs his toe like, every day.” She fished a starburst out of her pocket, unwrapping it, then looked over to Wren. “You paint rocks? That’s cool.” There’d been a resurgence with that, hadn’t there? Painting rocks? “What do you usually draw?” At Wren’s offer, Clem’s eyes lit up. “I’d love that! I’ll put it on my windowsill, away from Gecko so he can’t like, take it and hide it.” She paused. “He’s my ferret.” She popped the starburst into her mouth, tucking it to the side of her cheek.
—-
A bashful smile pulled at Wren’s lips, her heart giving a little lurch in her chest. “Thanks,” she mumbled shyly. It was brave. There were so many times that Wren gave herself such hell for her own scared tendencies. Like she was somehow lesser for being nervous about the humans, about life and the world in general. There were brave things she did all the time. She had to give herself a bit more credit, Clem had a point. “I mean, if you want to. The seafood was really good.” She chirped with a little laugh as heat rose to her cheeks. “Eh—it’s not too bad. It’s a lot smaller than how busy places in China could be when I’d go out into the city.” She explained. “I think small is what I need.”
Snorting, Wren covered her mouth with her hand briefly, adjusting her sketchbook in her arms. “That’s a good thing to wish on him. He deserves it—and like a flat tire at the most inconvenient moments ever!” She said decidedly, kicking lightly at a rock on the sidewalk that sent it skipping over the warm concrete. “Oh, lots of things! I usually just—kind of start doodling and see where it takes me. Some have flowers, others have animals.” Her eyes sparkled in turn, watching the way Clem lit up. A smile pulled at her lips and she nodded eagerly. “Gecko, how cute. Send me a picture of him! I’ll put him on the rock. I can make one for him too—I’d love to give him his own little gift. Make my mark on him and all. I’d love to impress.” She laughed a little.
—
“Dude, you don’t have to thank me.” She knew that was an honest reaction; when somebody complimented you, you thanked them, but Clem didn’t feel like Wren needed to thank her for everything. “Just like, keep doing it, you know?” The town was bustling with people, far more than there’d been when Clem had parked her car. She’d lucked out, apparently. “Oh, you lived in China? That’s cool!” Clem felt a minor pang of jealously, only because she’d been stuck in Wicked’s Rest all her life. “If you have pictures and stuff, I’d love to see them. You can look shit up, but like… it’s always different when taken through the eyes of someone experiencing it, you know? Like, not for magazines and stuff.” She wasn’t sure if it made sense.
“Oh, for sure. Flat tires, stubbed toes, wet socks. The list goes on and on.” She wondered if that there was somewhere in Wicked’s Rest that could make something like that come true. With the way the town was, it wasn’t an impossible thing. Clem nodded along as Wren went on to explain her art process. It was something she couldn’t ever figure out; art was a beast that she hadn’t ever tried to tackle, too afraid to be bad. (Which was so not punk rock of her.) “I’d love to see them if you ever wanna show me sometime!” It was said with so much enthusiasm that Clem felt her mouth sour. “Oh, here.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, showing Wren her homescreen. It was of herself and Gecko, him laying over her shoulder, staring directly at the camera, as she kissed the side of his head. “He’d so love that. He loves hiding shit he finds.”
—
Wren nodded her head sharply once. She was right. Wren needed to just keep doing it. There was nothing better than to simply be. (She could very much think this now, but actually continuing to do it would be a whole different beast.) She let out a puff of air out, ruffling her errant strands of hair in doing so. “Oh! Yeah, I was born there and basically was there… well, until I came here to live with my brother after…” She gestured vaguely. Now was not the time to get into it. Besides, Wren wasn’t entirely sure how she would be able to explain away moving here because she attacked other sirens. It was a can of worms she didn’t want to open in the slightest.
“Oh—I think I have some in my email! I will look. That’s how I used to keep in touch with my brother.” Wren also didn’t get a phone really until she was living with Eden. She had one to use occasionally, but the most learning came from when she came to Wicked’s Rest. “That definitely makes sense. It’s like, you’re experiencing it actually rather than the version that people try to show just to make it look all pretty.” A blush rose further, tinging the tips of her ears. “Of course! We can—well, whenever you come to my house I can show you them. Maybe along with some of my other drawings, if you want.” She smiled a little. Leaning in, Wren gasped softly as her shoulder bumped into Clem’s. “Oh my goodness! He’s sooo cute. You guys are adorable.”
—
Fiddling with the starburst in her mouth, she began to chew on it, nodding. The pang of jealousy she felt made her feel guilty. Clem smiled, glad to know that at least she made some sense. So far, the only person she’d ever met that really got her had been Jade. Maybe Wren could be that person with her, too. “See, you totally get it.” She was kind of glad she didn’t have to explain herself again, only because she wasn’t sure how she’d explain it any other way. “That is cool, though. That you lived somewhere else, especially than here.” She’d never seen past Portland. She was constantly yearning for something else, but it felt unattainable. Now that she was a werewolf, it should’ve been easier to grasp, but it still felt like some far off land that she was capable of anything other than being the same old Clementine.
“Hell yeah. I’d love to see them.” She tried to imagine the life Wren might’ve had in China, and if it differed from here in Wicked’s Rest. Was she another version of herself, or was she the same? Clem thought that if she lived somewhere else, she would’ve been different. But then again, wasn’t she exactly who she was meant to be? “Cool! And then I can meet your brother, too.” She’d thank him for the sushi, or maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe Wren had taken his card without asking. Then again, with how nervous she was, maybe… not. She probably just had a good relationship with him, which Clem found herself also being mildly jealous of. “God, yeah. He’s the fucking coolest. Super chill, too.” She smiled down at the photo before she slipped her phone back into her pocket. “Do you have any pets?” They were close to her car now, and she could see the beat up civic ahead.
—
“It was nice. I mean—” Wren hesitated for a beat before ultimately just shrugging. “I think that there’s ups and downs to all. Lawn isn’t greener or whatever is said.” She smiled a bit, “Wicked’s Rest is weird. I’m not gonna say it isn’t because it totally is. Super weird. It also has some people I really like—and so many cool birds! China has cool stuff too, but also… I dunno. It has aspects I want to also forget, if that makes sense. Wicked’s Rest makes it easier to forget.” It was the closest she had gotten to the truth that Wren could manage without outright explaining, but did the job well enough.
Nodding a little, Wren smiled once more. “I’ll definitely show you then. I’ll find my best for you.” She turned, walking backwards absently so that her eyes could stay on Clem’s face. She had a nice smile. It made her heart stutter a little in her chest, but she wasn’t about to dissect what that meant. No, thank you. “For sure—and yes! Well, she’s my brother’s, Eden. Her name is Moo Deng. She’s slimy, but very cute. You’ll love her.” She said happily, turning back around and skipping a little. “We definitely have to plot to use her to pester him. It’ll be great. Just like today! We’re going to have a great time today and any other time. I like that we hang out, Clem. I have a really good time with you.” Chancing a glance once more, Wren’s shy and small but there.
—
Clem nodded. That made sense. “No, I totally get it. Grass like, not being greener on the other side and stuff.” Maybe Wren’s relationship with the family there wasn’t good, and that was why she’d come to Wicked’s Rest. Maybe she missed her brother, or maybe there was something she was running away from. Should she have run away? After her father left? Maybe. But then where would she be? The idea that becoming a werewolf had only happened because she stayed sprinkled itself in as an afterthought, and she swallowed. When Wren mentioned birds, Clem laughed. “Yeah, I guess Wicked’s Rest does have that going for it.” There were a lot of things she hated about this stupid town, but the wildlife wasn’t one of them. “Running is like, much easier when you’re chasing down wienermobiles, I get it.” Maybe they’d see it while she and Wren were out together. “It’s a… mobile that has like, either hot dogs? Or maybe actual dogs, but it plays who let the dogs out like, super loud. You’ll know it if you see it.”
As Wren walked beside her, now backwards, Clem couldn’t help but watch the ground, just to make sure that her friend wouldn’t fall. Would she collapse in embarrassment? Maybe. “Well, I’m looking forward to it!” She clasped her hands on top of her head, walking alongside Wren, looking towards her car. At the mention of the slimy pet, she scrunched her nose. “Moo Deng? Oh my god. I bought trading cards of Moo Deng. Not yours, but like, the hippo.” She’d spent way too much money on them, actually, but they’d been for a good cause! “Huh?” She looked at Wren, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips, a little wider this time. “Yeah, you’re cool, too. I’m glad that I got sat at your table.” She would have preferred it to any of the others, really, but getting to know Wren had been an act of fate, she felt. Like, the totally cool fate where you made a friend for life, type of fate. “I have a really good time with you, too.” The smile stayed intact as she pointed towards the civic. “That’s mine.”
“I have to open it from the inside. The door’s like, broken or something.” Clem quickened her pace, getting into the driver’s seat, then reached across to unlock and throw open the door. “Totally not safe, I know, but like… it’s fine. The backdoors and this one all work!” She let out a nervous laugh before starting the engine. “Okay, so there’s this sushi spot that’s like, right by the water, and it’s really good. Wanna go there?”
—
“Wienermobiles… Fascinating. America really does have the weirdest things sometimes.” Wren noted absently. “Huh. Well, I’ll keep that in mind. Hot dogs or dogs. Or both? Regardless, it sounds like an interesting business model.” It didn’t seem like they’d make much money, anyway. She wasn’t a business man so she couldn’t truly judge or make that discernment, she supposed. A little shrug of her shoulders, Wren flashed another smile at Clem. She couldn’t really remember the last time she so freely smiled so much—so easily, even. It was like the fear that she normally carried around her like a looming cloud was gone for the time being. Maybe she would continue to not be afraid if she had someone she cared about so easily by her side. Their friendship really seemed to bloom in a way that Wren was far too happy about.
“Oh, yes! I’ve heard of the hippo. Our Moo Deng is a spirited gal in her own right. She understands our Mandarin too, so she’s a star like that—not that the other Moo Deng isn’t a star! She also is, but you know. I am biased because our Moo Deng is just so cute and sweet, even if she’s slimy.” She was rambling again. Wren swiftly shut her mouth, but felt herself light up almost instantly. “Me too! That was like, a total nightmare, but a worthwhile nightmare!” She chirped happily. Every day seemed like a total nightmare amongst most people in Wren’s world, but at least it was getting to a point where it wasn’t as much of a total nightmare.
Wren came to a stop outside the car and shook her head, “that’s fine!” She moved to get into the small car. Buckling up, she settled with her sketchbook in her lap. “Sounds good, let’s go spend some of Eden’s money!” As the car lurched forward, Wren couldn’t help but keep smiling. This had been a successful outing in Wren’s opinion. They’d get to have some sushi and she could successfully report to Eden that she had been out and about that day. Though, in glancing at Clem’s side profile, maybe Wren would keep part of this to herself. She settled in the seat and absently toyed with a strand of her hair. It had been a good day and she couldn’t wait for more good days to come—she hoped at least.
I care because it's weird you're putting people's faces on eggs and then turning them into mimes? Is this a new meme or trend or something that I'm too far behind on?
I would have said an ice cream van if I meant an ice cream van!!! It's a wienermobile or something. I don't want ice cream, I want the wieners. Have you seriously not seen the videos on Tik Tok? I mean, they keep getting taken down, but like, they were totally there!
Your help is noted and unappreciated <3 Maybe you should take your own advice since things getting stuck in hair seems to be such a large part of your life.
I would look like, really hot bald, and I don't know if anyone is ready for that yet. You, on the other hand [user looks at Kieran's profile, sees that he's kind of handsome, and she gets annoyed] would probably look super stupid bald.
[pm] Where did you last see this van, and what color is it? I saw one parked near campus on my way home this evening, but I don't think it was playing music. It looked odd, though. A little beat up. Does that sound like it?
[pm] The Common! Well, like, not in The Common, but driving on the road outside of it, you know? Wait, for real? At the campus? Shit. Wait. Which one? And beat up [...] I don't actually know. All of the videos and shit I've seen of it, it looks like a perfectly good van??? Did they have hot dogs or dog-dogs? Or like, anything? What song did they play?
Because it's funny. Before you say 'it's not funny,' it is. I think it's funny, and that's SO what matters. I could've made you an egg mime, though, looking at it now [...] Missed opportunity.
amandla
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