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@clarkjpg
character blog for goodplacehqs. please do not interact if you are not in the rp.
clark adlao
fc: alas alvarez ━ age: 23 (born january 2002) ━ pronouns: he/him ━ sexuality: straight ━ ethnicity: bisaya filipino, tausūg ━ place of origin: cebu, philippines ━ languages known: bisaya/cebuano (first language), english, tagalog
"fine, i'll be a good soulmate. i'll be your background dancer. you're the real star of the show." she hopped off of her seat excitedly. though she was not singing into the microphone she was singing along as she danced whatever steps she could remember. she was giggling all the while, getting into it. she didn't know if she could do this soulmate thing well, but at the very least, she wanted her presence to be a positive for clark. this was the good place, after all.
"you dance good. you should be on tiktok!" he proclaimed. "wait, is there tiktok in this place?" apparently, per janet, the answer was no. i mean, sure, he could try installing tiktok, but it wouldn't connect to earth. "what kind of heaven doesn't have wi-fi? oh, well..." he yawned, taking a seat. "do you wonder what your friends and family are doing right now? you know... back there?" there being earth, but it hurt to acknowledge he wasn't there anymore.
gabriel blinked. once. twice.
he had been fully prepared to tune out whatever theological nonsense was about to come out of clark’s mouth, but then—
“the god here is probably different from what we were taught, but still… that might be why the rain got really bad sometimes. i used to cuss a lot.”
gabriel stared at him, tilting his head slightly like he was waiting for a punchline that never came.
then, after a long, slow sip of his drink—dead serious—
“so what you’re telling me… is that you think god—whoever’s in charge of this place—just, what? cries every time you say ‘fuck’?” he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “damn. real sensitive guy.”
but clark wasn’t done.
no, clark had now shifted to deeply analyzing gabriel’s entire existence, trying to piece together why he reminded him of some uncle named chris. gabriel watched the mental gymnastics unfold in real-time, expression a mix of mild horror and sheer amusement.
first, it wasn’t the face.
then, it wasn’t the voice.
then, it wasn’t the height.
and then—the eureka moment.
“wait, no, i know why! i’m pretty sure it’s the age! you seem like you’re the same age as him.”
gabriel let out a short, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head.
“man, you just went through every possible reason except the right one—maybe i just remind you of him because i’m also a guy standing in front of you saying words.”
a beat.
then, with a lazy smirk, he leaned in slightly, just to mess with him.
“or, you know. maybe i am your uncle chris. ever think about that?”
"you're saying those words again. man..." a pause. "but maybe that's a good thing. to be honest, i don't like how sunny it is here. i hope whoever's in charge cries so we can get some rain." clark tried to say fuck fuck fuck fuck a bunch of times. when gabriel claimed to be his uncle, clark blinked.
"prove it," he said. he tried to think of things that his uncle chris would know. "what did my uncle chris give me as a gift after he and his wife visited australia 'cause divorce is legal there?" the answer was an adorable koala plushie and a single australian dollar, of course. "oh! and what was his credit card number?"
isadora watched the man as if he was the most interesting being in that entire place. she thought he was different, in a good way, from the people she met there before. although if she were in his shoes, she'd die of embarrassment with such behavior. but watching others do it? fun! "oh, no!" panic took over her features as she shook her head impossibly faster. "i'm just enjoying watching you with this thing."
clark laughed as "versace on the floor" by bruno mars played next on the karaoke machine. at least, there was one person at the party entertained by him. he delivered his signature strained vocals (he could sing, actually, but simply wanted to amuse the others). however, as the song went on, he couldn't help feeling unsettled by the way the demons other guests stared at him stone-faced. it was almost scary how blank their faces were. "i think that's enough karaoke for tonight." even though he was drunk, he couldn't ignore the stares. he asked nervously, "do you really not wanna have a go? 'cause i'll ask janet to take the machine away..."
now this seemed like someone who knew how to party. eunha gravitates towards the man, an amused smile on her face. yeah, he's a riot already, and she's going to enjoy it. but she's a bit confused as to why he can't just say fork, he was already saying it! she opens her mouth to comment on it, before he's offering the mic to her. "oh!" she exclaims, and happily nods, taking the mic. "if we're in the afterlife, there has to be some good songs from all over the world here!"
"i was gonna bless everyone's ears with my rendition of 'versace on the floor,' but go ahead, pick your song." he asks janet for a karaoke book with all the singable songs from around the world, a decision he regrets as soon as janet places an extremely tall, heavy book in his hands. "MOTHERFORKER!!!" he screams as he stumbles on the ground. he'd like to think he's physically strong, but that kind of weight would take down even an olympic athlete. "can you un-summon this? please?" he sighs as janet takes the song book away. "maybe we can just tell her what song you want?" although he's got a few scratches, he's still laughing.
"you're welcome," she nodded, taking a sip of her own flute. it may have been her fourth glass, but who was counting? it's not like she was the only person overindulging, there was no playing it safe now that she was in her version of eternity. "one of the finer things in life, or well- the afterlife now." she gave a wry laugh, figuring that would take some getting used to. "it's an acquired taste, for sure. kind of got used to it because of the swanky cocktail parties i've attended. i'm sure we could find something more palatable for you though, if you'd like."
"dang, y'all had parties just for drinking this stuff?" he was wearing a suit because this specific party asked for formal wear. clark was curious about the so-called finer things, but as the day passed, the more dissatisfied he felt. he never got to experience them back when he was alive; this should be the dream, but it was like his body literally rejected all this fancy stuff. he couldn't enjoy it, which was disappointing. "do you know what red horse is?"
maddie laughs loudly, it was the only way to cope with the cringe that caused every single follicle of hair on her skin to stand. she was laughing so hard she was crying. she didn't subscribe to this soulmate bullshit, but at least this guy was amusing as well— hell. "oh, fork no!" she declined his offer. "i can't follow that up!"
it's been pretty obvious that maddie doesn't care for the soulmate shit. whatever disappointment clark feels about his supposedly perfect soulmate not even believing in the system, he fights it with the thought that sure, she's pretty, but not prettier than his celebrity crush since childhood, ylona garcia. (to be fair, who's prettier than ylona garcia?)
if nothing else, he'd like to be friends with maddie, especially considering that they're gonna have to live in the same house and all. making her laugh seems like a step in the right direction. "aw, come on! i put on this next song for you!" he says. it's "salamin, salamin" by bini, a very high-pitched girl group song. "guess i'll have to sing this myself." his voice keeps breaking as he tries to sing in a strained falsetto; the lines are clearly way too high for him, but he persists, entirely unserious. "you're really just gonna let me suffer, huh?"
ansel can’t help but grimace as the other belts out another off-key note, like he’s personally offended by the concept of melody. he's been trying to drown it out with the weirdly floral cocktail he found in the beach bar's cooler, but it’s not strong enough to erase the auditory crime happening in front of him. “i've tried that, dude. apparently the afterlife is g-rated. it's forking bullshirt.” when the mic’s shoved in his direction, ansel snorts and grabs it without hesitation, already knowing he’s about to make things worse. “alright, sit down, tone-deaf elvis. let a pro show you how it’s done.”
clark coughs a little. "jesus, i'm pretty sure my vocal cords are about to give up on me. that's so stupid, though. how come we're in heaven and we still feel pain? makes no sense... but at least there's nonstop free food and karaoke!" he hands the other guy his mic and cheers when he sees that the next song is "problem" by ariana grande, queued up by someone else. "holy shirt, man! the only part i'd even try in that song is the whisper and the rap. good luck!"
gabriel had seen a lot of things since arriving in the good place.
a bottomless frozen yogurt supply? sure. an entire neighborhood of people having existential breakdowns in real time? hilarious. but drunk karaoke on a whim? that was new.
he was nursing a drink (that he absolutely did not pay for) when the poor bastard started belting out a song in what could technically be classified as singing. generously.
gabriel watched with mild amusement, sipping his drink as clark lost his mind over the karaoke machine like a kid discovering santa was real. but then—
“wait, why the fork can’t i say fork?”
ah. now that got his attention.
gabriel’s eyebrows lifted slightly, a slow smirk creeping onto his face. oh, this was good.
“oh, yeah,” he drawled, setting his drink down and leaning back in his chair. “that’s a fun little feature they got here. can’t curse. no f-bombs, no s-bombs, not even a good old-fashioned ‘hell’ if you say it with too much enthusiasm.” he gestured vaguely. “whole place is sanitized like a daytime sitcom.”
his smirk widened as he eyed the mic clark was shoving toward him.
“but, uh—” he clicked his tongue, eyeing the karaoke machine like it might physically assault him. “as much as i respect the, uh… energy you’re bringing to this, i don’t sing.”
a beat. then, because he couldn’t help himself—
“but i’ll absolutely judge your performance.”
"that makes sense. when i was a kid, our teachers used to tell us that if we cussed, god would cry, and that's where rain came from." clark paused thoughtfully. "the god here is probably different from what we were taught, but still... that might be why the rain got really bad sometimes. i used to cuss a lot."
he laughed. "no, you've gotta sing. you know, back home, our uncles would always sing skyline pigeon by elton john, for some reason, whenever we did karaoke. you remind me so much of my uncle, chris." taking a moment to pause, he said, "i'm not sure what it is. your facial features aren't really the same. you're way taller than him. your voice is different. your hair color is maybe a little bit lighter than his." another pause, then a eureka moment. "wait, no, i know why! i'm pretty sure it's the age! you seem like you're the same age as him."
open to anyone (town square, beach, or gardens) 🛹 @gpstarters
clark is drunkenly singing — well, singing is a pretty generous term for it on the karaoke machine he asked from janet. "fork, this is so cool! i asked her to give me a karaoke machine and it just popped out of nowhere!" he says. "wait, why the fork can't i say fork?" ah. inability to say fuck aside, it's cool. offering his mic to the other person, he asks, "do you wanna sing too?"
who: hadley & open @gpstarters
where: a welcome party
"figured you needed this because you look a little lost," hadley approaches someone away from the action of the party, nearly thrusting the champagne flute into their hand with an overly saccharine smile. it was an easy ice breaker of sorts, without seeming like she was prying too much into her neighbors' past life. "this is quite something, isn't it?"
honestly, clark is still 50% convinced that this is all just some weird dream. "thanks," he says, accepting the drink. "i've never drunk anything this fancy." he's pretty sure that he's never even seen a drink this fancy. he was, umm, an alcoholic back when he was alive... but you can't be alcoholic in heaven, right? he takes a sip and goes, "uh... do they have beer in this place?"
