a single - muse rp blog ; dependent on newvegasfm . penned by annabelle .
aesthetics ; carrd ; connections ; cosmos ; looks ; musings ; vibes

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@veinrxt
a single - muse rp blog ; dependent on newvegasfm . penned by annabelle .
aesthetics ; carrd ; connections ; cosmos ; looks ; musings ; vibes
status : closed starter. location : the westside, new vegas. with : clementine berry-witter | @veinrxt
away from the neon glow of the strip, this stretch of the city looked like a postcard of decay. nothing but tumbleweeds, dust and rust to draw the eye from the human detritus that called it home. the street smelled of horse sweat and old gunpowder when paz rode back in, her dustcycle grumbling as it had for the last hundred or so miles. three towns over, the click of her rifle had buried a crooked sheriff's son, the syndicate's message painted across the walls loudly visceral red. an east job that belied the difficult ride back. too many bandits and broken folk afield these days. it seemed the harder the alliance pressed down their supposed return of civilisation, the less civilised the waste became. a figure caught her eye on what passed as a sidewalk in these parts. it wasn't hard to recognise her. veins as black as a moonless night tended to make a woman stand out amongst a crowd even at a distance. as did the fact said crowd always gave her a wide birth as if afraid of catching whatever ailment afflicted her. veinrot wasn't contagious, as far as paz knew, but that didn't make it tender or kind. as if anything in the waste ever was. it wasn't sympathy that slowed her dustcycle. rads knew she had little to spare for herself, let alone anyone else. a twisted sense of connection, perhaps. the same hollow feeling she'd gotten when a bullet lodged in her ribs and the world turned numb. having your body betray you was something maría de la paz navarro cruz knew a little about. "well now, aren't you a tall glass of water on an otherwise parched day." she called out, flashing a crooked smile ( was it genuine? even she didn't know ) as she pulled the cycle over, letting the engine finally sputter to a grateful halt. her tone light and teasing, as if talking about the weather and she hadn't just returned from putting someone six foot under. "if i knew i'd be finding you at the end of my trip, i would've ridden a little faster."
NOT A LOT OF PEOPLE CAUGHT HER EYE . everyone tended to look so different that they all blurred together , in an ironic twist . it was hard to stand out in a town full of stand outs , and that was something she knew all too well . of course she didn't always look like a walking bag of tree roots ; she used to look normal . human . veins invisible to the naked eye , the way they should be . life had a funny way of fuckin' things up for those who desired blending in . she had never wanted to be famous , yet she was in more than one way . because of course she was .
it didn't surprise her when someone made their way up to her in the streets . sidewalk ? it was close enough . people often saw her and had a lot to say about her whole . . . deal . it typically rolled right off her back , her skin having thickened up quite a bit over the last few years . people and their comments became so much nothing to her , just a sea of unending stares and weird whispers under other folks' breath . but compliments ? those were few and far between . also , they were unbelievable .
❝ is that a fact ? ❞ clementine asked in reply , head tilted to the side as her hands found her hips . she didn't buy it . she wasn't great with tone , but she liked to think that she could tell when sarcasm was present . the person in front of her seemed equally as off , however . more machine than human at this point . perhaps they were a kindred spirit ? she could hope . ❝ got any other compliments to spout off , or was i just lucky this time ? ❞
"you know i'd never ask you for anything in return." it was true. she could ask for help when she needed to, but when it came to gifts, she never expected anything back. that's not how it's supposed to work, in her opinion when you find something that reminds you of a friend, it's your duty to share it with them- the thought alone is the gift that counted, right?
"happy to get them off my hands." slightly true. sorting out her mother's belongings was always hard on her heart. she had trouble purging not only her home but still light storage of things that were no longer in use. she thought herself to be practical in that sense, but her practicality was different than everyone else's. "it's kind of cool ain't it, how all that yarn can turn into a little square like this whole box of em." for too many years to count, hel's mother would try and try and try to get her daughter to put a crochet hook in her hand. hel just didn't have the patience to get her hands to focus on one project in a full sitting. "my mom made all these, she was good making things. like hats and blankets and socks too. i still have her yarn collection back in a closet or two." now going through that- deciding what kind of yarn is good yarn? clueless she was. "but yeah, please take em. they need to go to a home that will appreciate them since she worked so hard on them."
CLEM FELT A LITTLE BIT BAD ABOUT TAKING THEM . even though they were a gift , she knew that hel probably still felt something for them . anything that belonged to someone who had passed on was an important item , no matter how one felt about giving them away . there were items of clem's mother's that she didn't think she could ever part with - no matter how useless they may have been to her . still , she was grateful that hel considered her worthy enough of her mother's squares .
❝ i'll make something lovely out of them. maybe a dress , or a nice bag , or somethin' , ❞ she mused . she had countless designs rattling around in her mind . her own mom had kept a book of sketches that was currently in her possession ; she liked to thumb through it sometimes , wonder what all of them would look and feel like if they were brought to life . what fabric would be used , how thick would it be ? sometimes - most of the time - the durability of an item was much more important than how cute it was . maybe she'd make a blanket instead ; keep it in her home , hang it up on the wall . ❝ if you ever need to find a home for the yarn , think of me . i bet i could make a ton of stuff with it , things to keep folks warm at night ! ❞
the steady drip of a leaky pipe somewhere behind the walls of the medical center was usually an annoyance. that steady plop! plop! plop! could feel like a menacing clock ticking away precious seconds as someone laid in agony while staff worked on them. at this moment, standing in the cramped supply closet with her head tilted back to stare at the ceiling as deep breaths aimed to regulate a raging nervous system, it is a welcome tempo to which she times her breathing. in, two, three, four. hold, two, three, four. out, two, three, four.
head snaps up at the sound of her name ; dark curls bounce forward into her eyes before being swept out of the way once again. " i'll be there in a second! " she calls out automatically, a hand waving from the open doorway like a push pin on a map to indicate her whereabouts. the doctor allows herself one final moment of solitude and a roll of shoulders to shake off the remnants of the chaotic morning. ( she can deal with this later. right now, she's needed. )
with composure recollected, isabela rounds the doorway and strides down the hall— calm, confident, steady. a gentle smile stretches across her lips in greeting, words soft and measured. " hey, clem. how are you doin' today? "
SHE DIDN'T LIKE BOTHERING PEOPLE IF SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO . that included people like isabela , who could be tending to people in much more need than she was . some might say that she was a patient , herself , but she didn't see it that way . she wasn't dying ( that she knew of ) , she had just been dealt a really strange hand . she was there for management , not life - saving .
❝ i've been better, ❞ she admitted . she didn't stop by unless she had to ; unless the ache was so deep that it seeped into her bones and made life that much more dastardly to try and deal with . ❝ it's the same old , same old from me . should ask how you're doin' , instead . how are things here ? ❞ there always seemed to be new poor souls in the center . people suffering from all kinds of afflictions , and clem felt lucky that she didn't usually have to see the worst of it . she wasn't cut out for the job of a literal stitcher .
"Knocking implies asking for permission," He counters, as if the answer were obvious. Knocking meant a warning, but his presence was already just that. He isn't the type to make house calls, not unless the circumstances call for it. But talks of the wastes and flowers...well...that did get personal. To his home, his life string. "I'm not asking permission. Stop looking for it," He feels like a father disciplining a child. Stop dating that boy. Don't stay out so late. Don't bite the hand that feeds.
"It hurts more than it helps," That, and he didn't particularly want anyone sniffing too close to his home, or curse anyone to share his same fate. "Whatever you need it for, it's not worth it."
DESPITE HOW SHE MAY HAVE APPEARED TO OTHERS , CLEM WASN'T FRAGILE . she didn't really need anyone to tell her what to do , or how to do things . she had made it this long on her own , away from her family and everything she had grown up around , and she wished that people could see that truth for what it was . in much the same way she wasn't looking for pity , she also wasn't looking for random strangers to accost her about what she was ( or wasn't ) after. cactus flowers or otherwise .
❝ guess it's a good thing that i don't need permission to look for it , either , ❞ she pointed out. that flower was supposed to save her life . it was going to save her life , come hell or high water . ❝ that's not somethin' you're gonna change my mind about , so you might as well give up . i'm getting that flower one way or another - it can't possibly get any worse for me than this . ❞
who: james & open || @newvegas-start where: el cortez hotel & casino
James came in coughing and spluttering. It was just his luck, to be almost done on a job and get caught in a dust storm like nothing he'd ever seen before. He'd managed to get out, somehow kept his head and navigated his way to safety, despite barely being able to see his own feet, but he'd lost his haul in the process.
Now he just needed something, anything to drink. "Y' got any water?' He rasped, approaching the first person he saw. Wincing at the scratchiness of his voice. "or anything else that can help me shift this damn cough..."
Stopping talking would probably do him a world of good, but as he slowly got more oxygen in his lounges, his mind was starting to boot back up and ask questions, "Y' have any idea what's going on out there? Seems like the whole sky's turned to muck...."
SOME FOLKS SEEMED BETTER - EQUIPPED TO PREDICT THE WEATHER THAN OTHERS . though clementine had always shown great promise when it came to science , she wasn't going to be hopping on a radio anytime soon to tell folks about impending dust storms and ( more ) lack of rain . she had barely managed to slip inside the nearest building before the dust overtook the town , not bothering to be picky about which one she entered . the first one that would provide her safe shelter was good enough for her . all around her , townsfolk scurried off to one corner of the casino or another .
clem was nearly about to grab a seat for herself when someone else came in , clearly having been out in the dust for a moment too long . ❝ uh - yeah , yeah , i've got water, ❞ she said . essential to survival , she always carried some with her . she opened her bag and pulled out a small canteen , offering it up without a second thought . what was hers was also anyone else's , if she had enough to spare . and , honestly, even if she didn't . ❝ hope that helps . i can get some more if it's not enough . ❞
incoming starter from : ✦✦ clementine ═══════ location : ✦✦ uptown drugs ═══════ featuring : ✦✦ closed to dina ═══════ @radborn
IT WAS HER THIRD VISIT THAT WEEK . it wasn't as though she was proud of it , the way she craved relief . between pulling out her own hair and doing something far worse than chems , she didn't see much of an option . the need for something to take the edge off was more important than finding the will to sit through it . ( she had been there , done that , and lived long enough to know that she wasn't righteous enough to handle it without medical intervention ) .
slipping into uptown drugs and wondering if anyone saw her go in , she pretended to walk down the aisles and look for something , anything else . same items , different day . she often thought about what it would be like to come up with something new ; perhaps a cure to what ailed her . so far , she hadn't gotten anywhere close to that . she slowly meandered to the front of the shop , reaching out and dinging the bell on the counter . hoping for a friendly face , for dina's if she was lucky .
incoming starter from : ✦✦ clementine ═══════ location : ✦✦ still light ═══════ featuring : ✦✦ closed to helen ═══════ @whiskeyhorizon
SHE KNEW HEL COULD FIX IT . if nobody else could . hel is the person she took small items from the schoolhouse to . the kids had all kinds of toys , but so often they came in with broken ones they'd found recently . they were scattered all over , could be found almost anywhere . clementine hated to see them in such sorry states of disrepair , so she took them out to still light when she had a chance. knew that hel could handle the fixes ; the tiny , nimble needs that such miniscule repairs called for . clem could handle bigger projects - sewing up a dress , or mending the tear in a curtain - but the small stuff she wasn't cut out for .
she knocked before walking right in . wasn't like hel didn't see her there often enough . ❝ brought ya something to work on , ❞ she stated with a tiny grin , holding up a small , ornate music box . it was wooden , with intricate carvings detailed into the top and sides . underneath , the bottom read ❛ property of klara k. jones ❜ , who clem assumed was the original owner . from how long ago , she wondered ? one decade ? five , twenty ? thinking about time like that made her head feel fuzzy , so she stopped . ❝ think i might keep this one for myself . it still makes a pretty tune , somehow , but it's a bit off . ❞
incoming starter from : ✦✦ clementine ═══════ location : ✦✦ new vegas medical station ═══════ featuring : ✦✦ closed to isabela ═══════ @s4wbones
FRIENDS WERE IMPORTANT . people to count on . those who definitely had your back , and could count on you to have theirs when the time inevitably came . clem had far more acquaintances than friends , but she felt like she could count bela in that latter category . they had spent many a visit discussing her ailment ; how best to treat it , what to look out for , what could have prevented it ( they usually settled on nothing as the answer ) .
today , clementine was hitting up the good doctor's office for , hopefully , a bit of pain relief . something to tide her over until the next shipment of med - x came in . whether or not she would even get her hands on any of that was up in the air . she knocked politely on the door , swaying from side to side as she waited . a self - soothing motion she'd picked up ages ago . ❝ you in there , bela ? ❞ she called out . she didn't want to hurry her along . just wanted to make sure she wasn't standing there for no reason .
HENRY HINO ☾ CLEMENTINE BERRY WITTER
He has a policy of keeping his ears open and his mouth shut, and it’s served him pretty well so far. You can’t hear if you’re yappin, and if you can’t hear then you can’t know what’s coming your way, be it someone trying to kiss you or kill you. Not that most would risk doing either to him anyway. More talks of the wastelands and cactus blossoms has colored him intrigued. Had someone followed him out to the irradiated wastes and seen the flower that had gave him life? No, even with his shitty eyes he would have seen someone against all that flat, dry land. It must just be a rumor, but one he’d like to quell. The story takes him to the schoolhouse. A teacher, to be more specific. Once the little children file out from the door and she waives them off, he slips in unseen from the back. Her footsteps in the now empty hallway signal her return. “Some little birdie told me you were lookin’ for a flower,” He drawls. “I might advise that you don’t.”
@veinrxt
WORD GOT AROUND TOWN FASTER THAN SHE WOULD HAVE LIKED . it was one of those things that you had to get accustomed to . whispers in hallowed halls about who was seen where doing what ; people who wanted to know everything about each newcomer that blew into town . and , of course , if you looked different ? well , that was tenfold .
those who were good at sneaking around , being quiet , shouldn't have been a surprise to her - yet they always were . ❝ damn . why doesn't anybody ever knock ? ❞ she asked ; not to the stranger in particular . rather , just in general . ❝ i'm not looking for advice. you here outta the goodness of your heart , or what ? ❞ she continued , not sure she'd buy it if he said that he was . no one did stuff for that reason alone .
𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 for @veinrxt
from a couple of conversations, hel was able to piece together that clementine's favorites were sunflowers. flowers that hel hardly seen out there anymore, maybe it was due to her staying within the city limits instead of exploring the rest of the wastelands. she didn't really see a reason to step out of that comfort zone to be honest.
so when she was cleaning out a couple of boxes at still light, she found a couple of squares - granny squares, her ma used to call them.
and though she had a hard time letting things go that belonged to her mother, she didn't think she could justify keeping them any longer. besides they were real pretty, green brown and yellow little stitches strung together into a little pattern that could be made into a big blanket or something.
as she's sorting through the box, she pulls one out and hands it over to clem. "so... i'm not much of a knitter or crocheter, or whatever it's called, but i figured if you know a thing or two about stitching these together, you could make something out of them for yourself?"
SHE WASN'T ACCUSTOMED TO PEOPLE GIVING HER THINGS . not that she was ungrateful , mind . people simply weren't that generous anymore . she couldn't fault them . what little resources remained in the wasteland were meant to be hoarded , if found in good condition . anything not nailed down was an item waiting to be collected , used , or sold .
but she was always thankful when someone did give her something . a small act of kindness in the world could go a long way , and she had learned that long ago . ❝ jeez , hel , you serious ? ❞ she asked, eyebrows furrowing together as she picked up one of the small squares. they felt soft beneath the pads of her fingertips ; the exact sort of thing she would look for when searching out fabric. she often made her own clothes, so she knew she could use them. ❝ thank you. this is so sweet of you . . . i don't have anything in return right now, but i'm sure i could come up with something . if you can wait, of course . ❞
incoming starter from : ✦✦ clementine ═══════ location : ✦✦ fission chips cafe ═══════ featuring : ✦✦ open to all ═══════ @newvegas-start
QUIET . not typically a word associated with the tumbleweed capital , but one frequently considered when regarding the schoolteacher . her curly hair was pulled back in a bun , and her clothes did not represent the heat outside well . covered almost head to toe ; a cardigan , jeans , boots . a typical outfit on a not - so - typical body . she didn't blend in . couldn't , even if she wanted to .
she slipped into the fission chips cafe like she did many days of the week . she hadn't really learned to cook for herself , even after so many years on her own . so she haunted the restaurants around new vegas like a ghost , with the cafe being her favorite . try as she might to remain stealthy , there was no hiding her . a walking affliction with a heart of gold . it'd make for a better film plot than the girl's real life , but she took it in stride ( as best she could ) .
❝ got any pie today , mabel ? ❞ she asked the woman behind the counter , sliding over a couple of caps for her usual coffee order . the old gal working the register knew exactly how clem liked her coffee - more cream and sugar than actual roast . she hopped onto a barstool and ignored the feeling of eyes on her . ❝ if you've got something to say , get to it . otherwise , eyes to yourself , ❞ she mumbled , not bothering to look at who might have been watching her .
*.:。♦ ⋅ ⋆ — ANTONIA GENTRY GIF PACK
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a study in : clementine berry - witter ! read the biography of this beautiful tragedy right here !
a whistle fades in the dusty air, as the sound of spurs on their boots meet the gravel. they’re known on record as VEIN ROT , but a few who’ve shared a foxhole or the occasional bottle with them, are allowed to call them - CLEMENTINE BERRY-WITTER . they are a HUMAN who looks a hell of a lot like ANTONIA GENTRY if you squint your eyes. At TWENTY-EIGHT they’ve learned how to survive the wild wild wasteland making their living as a TEACHER @ NEW VEGAS SCHOOLHOUSE . They carry JEALOUSY with them like an old wound but their NURTURING keeps them alive against better judgment. honor ties them loosely to THE STITCHERS . if you’re paying any mind, you can see them in the crossfire between WARM NIGHTS BY A BONFIRE, SIPPING WHISKEY ON THE ROCKS and KNITTING BY CANDLE-LIGHT WITH A GRANDPARENT AND LISTENING TO RECORDS PLAY IN THE NEXT ROOM OVER . anyways, their presence is a walking reminder that out here, the old world never really died.
wanted connections below the cut *ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷
# tag dump !