#causefulmoon

[vengeancedemon]

@causefulmoon replied to your post “[pm] I was told to reach out to you cause you like...”:

[pm] But they said you could also help me find the socks. ): It was Jade.

​[pm] Jade is a liar and you should believe nothing she says.

[...]

I will help you find your socks if you give me money.

[bazzledazzle]

@causefulmoon replied to your post “If you could own one animal as a pet, no laws...”:

Mouse rat, electric variety. mixed with cat, probably.

​That's the sort of pet I'd want, then. Imagine how much you'd save on the electric bill!

[asirenscream]

you're the only friend i need // clem & wren

TIMING: APRIL 2026

LOCATION: Harborside, starting in front of Periwinkle Paints

PARTIES: Clem ( @causefulmoon ) & Wren ( @asirenscream )

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. 

[highoctanegem]

Still thinking about the wieners.

Me too, babe :( Like why would TPTB hate us so much, you know? Don't we deserve wieners? [user still means dogs]. I think we defo deserve wieners. I'm gonna send my bud the footage and cross fingers so she finds anything. In the meantime, maybe it's better if we don't run like headless chickens. [user frowns rereading what she wrote, she opens the selfie camera to confirm she's still herself. Yup. No one swapped her overnight]

But you're the bestest for running with me all the way. I know that was like, super scary for ya.

[kadavernagh]

[pm] Your girlfriend loves you, and oh! I think you're totally normal <3

[pm] I know this. I think the whole town is likely aware of this by now. My love for Jade shines brighter than the layer of mucus over the exposed entrails of roadkill. Why do you feel the need to inform me when it's evident every day?

I will not pay you $20 for that. It seemed like an afterthought. I will give you $15.

[vengeancedemon]

@causefulmoon replied to your post “why are you so stinky”:

It's probably your old socks.

​I told you that my socks are not old.

[vengeancedemon]

@causefulmoon replied to your post “What's the weirdest thing you've seen in town?”:

That's not what we are aware of.

​[pm] Daniel has already told me you are full of shit.

[asirenscream]

TIMING: MARCH 2026

LOCATION: The Codfather

PARTIES: Clem ( @causefulmoon ) & Wren ( @asirenscream )

SUMMARY: Clem & Wren get a fancy coupon to a free dinner at The Codfather, not realizing it's arranged seating. A friendship blooms, along with stealing pens and food on their way out.

CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

Shoes were such a pain in the butt. Wren knew that if she didn’t wear any then Eden would likely make some snooty comment. Probably something about it was undignified for a person to be shoeless in a restaurant that had different spoon sizes. Which, to begin with, why did they have different spoon sizes? That’s what all the fancy movies and TV shows said about fancy places, anyway. Wren just assumed that it was the same for The Codfather. 

The restaurant was nice, probably too nice for Wren and the way her ankle has rolled multiple times in the stupid heels she was wearing. This was her being brave, something she didn’t do all that often most days. The gift certificate to the place had been a nice surprise and an excuse to go outside her comfort zone. She had to hype herself up to do so, the paper practically crumpled in her grasp as she entered the restaurant. 

“Hi, welcome!” The hostess chirped. 

Wren immediately flinched and thrust forward the certificate, blurting out all in one breath, “I got this and I’m here to redeem it!”

The hostesses stared blankly at Wren before recovering, “right! Sure, it’s assigned seating for this particular certificate.” She carefully plucked the paper out of Wren’s tight grip. “Right this way.”

Wren lurched forward to hurriedly keep up with the hostess, ignoring her internal meltdown. Assigned seating. That meant Wren had to talk to people and not just eat alone like she planned. This was like a march to her own death—her very social filled death. She eyed all the tables in passing as the hostess then came to a stop at a table, gesturing at the seat for Wren to take. Oh boy.

——

Clem stared down at the crumpled gift certificate. The man who had handed it to her at work had spilled some beer onto it. He didn’t have any more money to tip her, so he had given her this. She wasn’t sure if it was real, or if she’d show up at the restaurant and look like a total idiot. She wouldn’t know unless she were to try and redeem it, so that’s exactly what she did. If she and Rory had been on speaking terms, she probably would’ve handed it off to her. But they weren’t, and as some silent fuck you to Rory, she decided to keep it. 

She put on the nicest dress she could find.  It was all black, with a flattering neckline (whatever that meant), that cut just below the knee. It was on the looser side, making it easy for her to move in. She couldn’t remember where she’d gotten it, but it’d always been in her closet. She had two choices for shoes: a pair of doc martens that gave her blisters, and a pair of beat up off-brand converse. 

Blisters, for one night, she decided, couldn’t hurt. 

When Clem showed up at The Codfather, she wasn’t really sure what to expect as she handed over the certificate. The hostess looked her over with a sigh before leading her towards a table. It was only as they were walking did she actually get spoken to, “it’s assigned seating.” The woman held a hand out, signaling Clem to take a seat, and so she did. 

Clem settled into her chair, looking at her company awkwardly. She looked worried. Clem probably would have been, too, if she had to pay for… whatever this was. “Um… hi?” She awkwardly shrugged off the dark blue jean jacket she wore, hanging it over the back of the chair. It was then that she noticed everyone else had their coats hung up for them. Suddenly, she felt incredibly small. She took a seat, scooting in her own chair.

“Did you get uh.. the whole certificate thing, too?” 

— 

Wren was squirming in her seat. She was sure Eden would have something to say about that too. She was regretting a lot of things when it came to this whole thing, mostly the shoes, but especially the whole stranger aspect. She should have just stayed home rather than having taken the stupid certificate out of the trash. (Which was something she’d also not be telling Eden about, thank you very much. She wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.)

Looking up abruptly, Wren was sure that her face was a bright shade of red. It was just a girl. Well, not just a girl, a cute girl—she was getting off track. She shook herself mentally and managed a smile that felt more like a rough grimace than anything. “Hi!” She forced out, feeling like her heart was about to launch itself right out of her chest if she wasn’t careful. 

Wren grabbed the fancy cloth napkin and immediately started fidgeting with it, giving her hands something to do instead of grabbing one of the equally fancy forks. She didn’t trust herself not to do something drastic like stab the table on accident. “Uh, yeah! Yeah, I did. I didn’t realize it’d be a whole like… arranged seating thing. Seems weird to do, like meeting strangers and stuff when you just want to have a fancy meal!” Wren forced herself to look up and look at the girl again, “um, I’m Wren? Did you also come for a fancy meal time or just to see what it was all about?”

—

Clem looked over her shoulder towards the hostess who was already seating other patrons. As they took their seats, the woman had taken their coats. Clem sneered slightly, but her attention rippled back towards the forced company. It stung, a little, to think of this girl that way. She seemed nice. Nervous, too, maybe. She barely watched as the other turned the napkin over and over in her hands. It was hard to pay attention to that, though, when she kept looking back at the ends of her hair– a fiery orange that Clem, herself, had never managed to get her own hair to take. Maybe she’d ask for tips. 

The conversation inside of the restaurant was loud. The clinking of glasses and forks scraping made Clem wiggle in her seat slightly, hands planted on either side. Her fingers dug into the polished wood in an attempt to ground herself. She was still getting used to the whole hearing better than everyone else thing, but what that brought was the quick beat of her company’s heart. Okay, so she was really nervous. “Did they even advertise it like that? I barely even read the certificate. It was given to me by somebody at work.” God, that made her sound pretentious as fuck. “I work at a bar, and the dude didn’t have any tip money, so…” She gestured vaguely around them, as if to signify that’s why I’m here. 

“Wren?” She matched the other girl’s smile, “like the bird, right? Or no.” She pushed her fingertips into the wood, wondering if some sick freak would take her prints later and charge her for dirtying up the place. “I’m Clem. It’s short for Clementine. Like the fruit.” She looked around, noticing that most of the other patrons had much nicer tables than where they sat, but the furniture was still way nicer than anything she had owned, or would probably ever own. “Did you.. just want to see what this was about, then? Or are you super into meeting new people?” She didn’t figure it was the latter given the quick uneven thump of her heart, but still, she figured she’d get it out of the way. 

—

The whole place made Wren feel way out of her depth, admittedly. Her thumbnail dug into the soft fabric of the cloth napkin and she tried not to focus too intently on how much she wanted to scream, flee, cry, or a combination of all of the above. She was on a pretty decent streak of not crying and she didn’t want to break it just because of a super, duper fancy restaurant that she was trying to be brave in. Her shoulders raised and dropped as she shrugged at the other woman. “Uh, I don’t think so? I assume not, anyway. Or if they did then they didn’t do a very good job of making sure that people knew.”

The comparison made Wren perk up instantly, a bit of her nerves receding. Only a bit. “Yeah! Just like the bird,” her smile turned more shy than frazzled. “Ooooh, I like that! I love clementines! So tart and sweet! That’s a lovely name.” Too much talking, calm down. Wren quickly smiled sheepishly, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. She still was navigating how to do the whole… people thing. She wasn’t sure when she’d get better at it. 

Pausing at the question, Wren hesitated. There wasn’t exactly an easy way to explain that she was afraid of the whole human society thing. That she didn’t trust herself to not follow along with her own set rules. That she was afraid if she actually made friends with people then she might just ruin it all in a rage she would barely remember. “Um… I guess I’m mostly curious about the whole thing? I’ve never really been to a fancy restaurant before. I’m trying to be more… adventurous. My—uh, well. I live with my brother so I kind of just… am trying to be less of a sort of shut-in there and attempt to meet people sometimes. Even though it feels super daunting sometimes.” Letting out a sharp breath, Wren’s smile was almost brittle and wary at the edges. “What about you? Do you like restaurants and stuff like this? Since that person gave it to you as a tip and all! Were you just curious or just thought why not?”

—

“Huh..” Clem glanced around once more before forcing her attention back to her company. It could’ve been a lot worse, she realized. She could’ve been seated across from somebody named Chad who had grease stains on his shirt and food in his beard. Instead, she sat in front of somebody with a pretty purple dress that, in her own opinion, nearly matched her eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think we’re the only ones.” There was confusion a few tables over, where a man was refusing to take a seat after shouting that he didn’t know the woman across from him. The hostess pointed to where she and Wren sat, and Clem immediately turned around. “If they make us change seats, scream.” She paused, “kidding, I’m kidding.” 

Only, she wasn’t kidding at all. She would probably make an even bigger deal than the man was making and get kicked out, but it’d totally be worth it to disrupt a bunch of rich peoples’ lives for one night. Clem smiled, “like the bird, that’s really cool.” She liked birds well enough; enjoyed when they migrated, enjoyed watching them land from branch to branch. As a kid, she helped get an injured crow to a facility. She had nightmares about it for weeks after, but still, she helped. “My mom ate a lot of them before she had me. I think that’s why the name sort of stuck.” That was what her dad had always told her before he got quiet. Afterwards, he said her name like it was something heavy. 

As Wren went on to explain why she showed up to the restaurant, all Clem could do was nod along in response, sniffling slightly as the nervousness began to cause her perfume to permeate the air. It smelled like rose, and the only reason Clem knew what roses smelled like to the degree in pinpointing it was because a man, a long time ago, had brought a bunch of roses to The Wormhole after his failed attempt at winning his girlfriend back. He’d given them to Clem to get rid of, but she kept them in a plastic vase for months afterwards. “Okay, so you’re a total shut in, and you want to not be a shut in, so you’re totally changing up the effort and the game.” That was kind of what Wren had said, right? “No, I support you. It, even. It’s hard meeting new people.” Clem could relate, couldn’t she? Most of the friends she’d made, ever, had been online. “People usually fucking suck. They’re usually assholes.” She nodded towards the table where the man had been causing a scene. “Like that.” She rolled her eyes, looking back at Wren. 

When the question got turned back on her, she took a few seconds to respond, trying to figure out why she had even come. “I mean, free food is free food, right?” She nodded towards the menu that she hadn’t bothered to look at. It had LIMITED printed beneath The Codfather in italics, and Clem could only assume that there was some kind of set menu they had to order from. “Like, when will I ever be able to eat…” She picked up the menu, looking at one of only two pages available. “...Pasta…” She frowned. “Is your menu just pasta, too? I thought this was a seafood restaurant.” 

—

Blinking owlishly, Wren gazed over at the man shouting. It made her grimace, shoulders raising slightly as he got even more aggravated. She made direct eye contact with the man and practically yelped, immediately looking away. Maybe if she didn’t look at him then he wouldn’t continue to yell… she hoped, anyway. Her attention dragged back to Clem, pausing as she registered just what she said. “Oh, I mean, I will! I can do that. I can scream pretty loud and he’ll probably stop complaining—only to complain about the screaming, but like that’s obviously the whole point.” She resisted the urge to outright facepalm. Eden would be rolling if he knew how spectacularly awful this whole socializing thing was going for her.

“Aww,” Wren smiled, looking oddly touched at the explanation Clem gave her. “That’s really nice. My mom is a—” she stopped short. She knew that she can’t exactly tell people her mother was technically a bird? No, she definitely can’t do that. “—has a bird name too! Raven, um, so I think that’s where my name came from. Your story is cuter though, I like that. Clementines for the clementine lover. Your name came from a place of deep love—you were made of love, even!” She babbled, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. 

The way Clem put it made it seem so much more than Wren felt like it was. Changing the game, she liked that, liked that it made her feel like she had a better handle on things than she felt like she actually did. “Thanks—I—yeah. Thanks.” She said lamely, fidgeting with the menu and ducking her head a bit to look at it. “People do suck. Like really badly. You act a little bit different and it’s like you’ve grown wings—or something else!” She said quickly. “I hope that guy grows wings and flies away at this rate, though. He’s being really loud.”

Wren’s brow furrowed as she gazed over the menu. She closed it, flipped it around, flipped it back, then opened it up once more. Nothing was on the back, no extended menu. Just a tiny little thing that was rather sparse. “Yeah—what the heck is cheese tortellini being as the main offering in a seafood restaurant? Not even like… seafood pasta? There’s not even a meat option either! What the heck is this place?” She grumbled, nose wrinkling up. “Are we just getting the scraps or what?” 

—

At least Clem had a yes man at her side. She could picture it now– the two of them screaming, then being reprimanded about how this wasn’t that kind of establishment. The place could use a little screaming, in her opinion. It could at least use music, instead of whatever the fuck was being played over the loud speakers. She wanted to ask Wren what she thought they were, but now was probably not the time. The music was so quiet that she wasn’t even sure it actually was there. Maybe she was imagining it. “We should save it, in case he decides to be a jackass again.” She spoke lowly enough so that he wouldn’t hear, and also because she didn’t actually want an enraged man over their table. 

She wasn’t exactly sure what Wren meant by ‘my mom is a,’ but Clem could fill out the blanks. She was probably a bitch, based on how nervous Wren was. Maybe her parents had wrecked her nerves. Clem had gotten lucky, she had decided to not care after a certain point of her dad being… well, not a dad. “Raven’s a cool name, but I like Wren a lot more.” Raven was decidedly edgier, so for all intents and purposes, she should’ve liked Raven more, but Clem was still trapped by the imagery that this nervous girl’s parents were absolute assholes, and so she decided she would give them no compliments. At Wren’s comment about her name, she snorted. 

She wasn’t sure if that’s how she’d go about it, but Clem wasn’t about to dredge out the gloom and doom for the sake of correcting Wren. She liked the optimistic outlook, even if it wasn’t exactly her own style. “I guess you could say they fucked and stuff, yeah, sure.” She shrugged, wondering if there was any actual loving intent from her parents at all. Probably not, and no reason to stew on it! 

Wren liked her reasoning, and Clem was glad she did, because she figured she had hit the nail on the head in the first go. Satisfied with herself, she leaned back in her seat. She looked towards the man who was still arguing, and she scrunched her nose. “Maybe somebody will glue his mouth shut or some shit.” People couldn’t just enjoy something anymore, could they? Of course, Clem complained; relished in it, even, but this (the ugly ass man) was way over the top. 

So, she hadn’t been blind to some super seafood menu offering. Clem chewed on her lower lip as she watched Wren turn her menu over again and again. “You can literally get tortellini at the grocery store.” Clem knew she could get seafood, too, but what use was a free coupon at a overpriced restaurant if she couldn’t get the most expensive thing? A waiter walked by, and Clem flagged her down. The woman stopped, looking less annoyed than the hostess had. Though, she looked seemingly frazzled. “Um, what’s with this menu? There’s literally no seafood.” The woman blinked, then sighed. “It’s a set menu. Set prices. You have a free coupon, but that doesn’t–” 

She glanced over her shoulder, clearly frustrated by the yelling man, “you know what? Fuck it. Fuck all of this. Fuck you,” the woman turned to point at the man, “and fuck you, Jeremy! For not calling me back! FUCK ALL OF YOU.” Clem was only slightly satisfied that the waitress hadn’t pointed at either herself or Wren in her tirade. She watched, glancing over at Wren momentarily, then back to the woman, as she tore her apron from around her waist. It flew through the air, a small notepad and a couple of pens raining down as it hit the ground a few feet away. “I QUIT!!!!!!” 

Clem watched as the woman stalked off, and she looked back at Wren. “Jeremy sounds like a fucking asshole.” 

—- 

Clem had called the waitress over and Wren watched with wide eyes as it sort of spiraled from there. She went from frazzled to yelling, pointing outright. Her lips parted into a perfect little ‘o’ as she practically rained fury down on the whole restaurant—pens included. She blinked once, twice, then looked back at Clem with a solemn nod. “Who doesn’t call someone back? It can’t be that hard, can it? I mean, it’s literally just dialing a contact and there you go—this must be the whole ghosting thing. I didn’t realize people still did that a lot. Seems just mean.”

Puffing her cheeks out, Wren looked back to the sad little menu then back to Clem once more. “We should go somewhere else.” She said decidedly despite her nerves still thrumming in her veins. “Like—obviously this place sucks. Who does cheese tortellini at a seafood place? The Food Network told me cheese isn’t supposed to be paired with seafood to begin with!” Wren was bound and determined to continue being brave, especially since talking to Clem was surprisingly really nice. She enjoyed being around her in the short while they had been paired with one another. Friends didn’t exactly come easy to Wren so if she could salvage this, she wanted to try. 

Wren stood up abruptly, quickly moving to steal the pens—they were nice, even if this may be frowned upon—and stuffed them into her purse. She pointed a finger at the yelling man, who had stopped yelling apparently for the time being, “you are super loud and annoying! Stop yelling at people and get a job! Or a hobby—but not a yelling hobby! You already do that enough!” She said decisively and promptly turned back to Clem. “Was that pretty good for yelling back at him, you think? I think that waitress really inspired me.” She informed Clem like it was an every day occurrence to yell at a man just because the woman had previously suggested it. “So what do you think? An escape or should we wait the cheese pasta out?”

—

“If you’re going to not call somebody back, at least tell them  you’re not interested. Don’t be a fucking coward.” She shook her head. Though, Clem did have to wonder what Wren meant exactly by ‘this must be.’ Maybe she’d never been ghosted before. That was nice. At least neither of them had experienced that romantically. “It is really fucking mean, and I mean, who would date somebody named Jeremy, anyway?” She never met a Jeremy she liked, she realized. Then again, she didn’t know many Jeremy’s. Just the one that the waitress named (not that she knew him, but she felt like the reaction the woman had had was enough to paint a clear picture), and one from elementary school that took up space on the slide. 

Eventually, Clem was pulled back to her company as Wren voiced her opinion. The restaurant, despite the free coupon, seemed like a bust. Who the fuck went to a seafood restauraunt and didn’t get seafood? (Probably a lot of people, but it seemed kind of useless, didn’t it?) “Yeah, this place really fucking sucks.” It was an echo of Wren’s statement, but she felt the need to reiterate it.

Clem hadn’t been ready for the speed at which Wren moved. Suddenly, she was pushing her chair back and yelling at the man who’d been an asshole, and a smile pulled at the corners of her lips. “Yeah, what she said! Fuck you, and fuck your stupid haircut, too.” At Wren’s question, she nodded, giving the other woman a thumb’s up. “Hell yeah, it was.” The man didn’t seem too pleased with the outburst, but he shrunk in his chair, shakily taking a sip from his glass. “No, we should definitely bounce.” She bent down, scooping up the apron and notebook, “but…” She grinned at Wren, holding a finger up. “Meet me at the door.” 

Before Wren had a chance to respond, she dashed away, tying the apron around her waist. She didn’t have a pen, but it didn’t matter. She barged into the kitchen, speaking as loudly and with as much authority as she could: “I’ve got two lobster buckets, stat! Lady said hers went cold.” There was a low grumble of acknowledgement throughout the kitchen, and within moments, two buckets, both full of lobster and other assortments of seafood, were at the ready. She pocketed the notepad, then grabbed both buckets, hobbling only slightly out of the kitchen. Clem hurried towards the exit, “table forgot their buckets, they had an emergency.” She said in response to another waitress who tried to stop her at the door. Only when she saw Wren did she yell, “GO!” It was lucky that her dress was forgiving, otherwise it’d be a whole lot harder to actually rush in the way she was expecting Wren to.

— 

Okay, this was way more than just stealing some pens, but Wren wasn’t too worried about it. Mostly. She was kind of perpetually worried about everything, but that was a whole different thing in itself. After only knowing Clem for a very short while, Wren felt confident in trusting her. Mostly. It was weird, feeling this sort of easy connection with someone while she spent her entire life being entirely afraid of everything in it, herself included. A far too genuine smile pulled at her lips, an almost carefree type of laugh escaping her. “Yeah, fuck your stupid haircut!” She stuck her tongue out and quickly moved in the direction Clem went.

This whole thing felt like one of the big scenes in those coming of age movies that Wren binged when she first discovered they were a thing. Like the lights should be a soft pink hue or something and the music would swell or whatever—instead, it was Clem bursting out of the kitchen with two buckets of seafood and yelling at Wren to go. For a moment, the woman was utterly dumbfounded, but in a good way. A surprisingly good way. 

Shaking her head, Wren immediately darted after Clem with a squeak. “Your coupon sucks!” She yelled one last time, hurrying to catch up with Clem—wobbly, but she was rushing. (Stupid shoes, she’d never wear them again.) She scooped up one of the buckets from Clem’s grasp and giggled breathlessly. “This is just like a movie!” Wren burst out excitedly as they took off for the exit. 

Once outdoors, Wren slowed and panted a bit, shoving her errant strands of hair away from her face with her free hand. “Come on! I know a cool place nearby that’s pretty secluded—not that I think that they’d follow, but like—you know! Anyways! Let's go!” She grinned excitedly, adjusting the bucket in her arms as she went with Clem to enjoy their seafood buckets. Wren had a feeling that this relationship was only the start of something potentially really great if the giddy feeling in her chest was anything to go by. At least, she really hoped so.