raising the shadows.

" --- i don't want tea, i want to find my mother. and then i want to find out who took her in the first place, and i want to kill them."

[katmcnamara]

[jacessimon-deactivated20161204]

#you’re one to talk lady

[magnusficent-deactivated2016073]

[credit]

[ceeyoutea]

[shadowhunterguide]

- I’ll do anything to save her. - I get it, you love her. - More than anything.

[fxrocity-blog]

“My mom has been so over protective lately,” Clary declared with a brief shake of her head and a slight laugh. The strangeness of the heirloom passed onto her and mom’s attitude aside, she was thrilled to say that this birthday, as of yet, was a success. She was happy to be able to spend her first night as a legal adult (  and now future student of Brooklyn Academy of Art )  with Simon and Maureen at her side. As twilight reached Brooklyn and streetlights flickered on, neon signs bringing the city to life, the trio had found their perch on top of Simon’s just-short-of-obnoxious yellow van. The art plastered around it mimicked that of many buildings in New York, proclaiming various band names and symbols Clary found fitting in the midst of her spray painting.

They continued to chatter on (  Simon with his references, Maureen insisting Clary ought to question her mother, Clary quick to wave off the concern )  as they waited out the time before the two she was sandwiched between were due to their gig. It wasn’t that different of a Saturday night as usual --- what had she been expecting, she’d suddenly feel like an adult rather than the teen she still was? --- especially when Simon announced the new band name after the performance. 

The only odd thing about the whole situation was the growing unease settling in  Clary’s chest as she stepped away from the van and saw the unsettling symbol she had painted on the side with the new name, as pointed out by Simon.

“You know, they have confirmed cases of people waking up and speaking French. And they never even studied the language.”

“You think that’s some kind of language?”

“Sanskrit, maybe.”

The redhead gazed at the symbol, struggling to remember where she’d seen it before --- an attempt to pinpoint the uncomfortable familiarity prodding at her in the back of her head. She was only interrupted when a dark haired girl knocked past her shoulder as though Clary wasn’t even there. “ --- Hey! Can you watch where you’re going?”