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tinyfandomflashTitle: Prelude to a Return
Author: JellyfishLover
Fandom: EndZone (Web Series)
Rating: Teen
Category: Gen
Relationship(s): Clarice & Climber
Character(s): Clarice, Climber, Castle of Nations
Word Count: 300 (triple drabble)
Spoiler: Spoilers for the ending. Takes place post-canon.
Summary: Clarice returns to the island holding the only good to come out of it limp in her arms.
Notes/Warnings: Mild language and past major character death.
Clarice never thought that she would willingly return to the island.
It was tricky enough to leave the first time as it was, and most of the population of it made fairly clear how unwelcomed she was. But, well, as they say: desperate times call for desperate measures, and this was certainly that.
The Castle of Nations looms above her, and she grips what remains of the only good thing to ever come out of this place closer to her chest. He's light, obviously, but somehow Clarice was still surprised, when she hugged him close back in that hellish asylum, as to how much so. He must have lost some of his stuffing at some point, she thought then, before realizing how that was an obvious and idiotic thing to think. The lack of limbs is self-evident. He's still light now. Probably lighter, no one bothered to stitch him back up. No time, no resources. Hopefully it’ll be fixed soon.
The Castle’s red stained glass glows. A loud voice rattles around the inside of Clarice's skull.
“Uh oh.” it says, rather anti-climatically, “How on earth did that happen?”
“A fire,” is Clarice’s flippant reply, an understatement if she ever made one, “and also some dark magic or something, I don’t know I was busy at the time. Look, is there anything you can do for him?”
The Castle hems and haws for a moment, damned thing, before hedging “Maybe? I mean, I can’t do anything about it being all torn up, but I can help with the other stuff.”
Thanks for stating the obvious, oh mighty force of nature. This all better be worth her time. It better bring him back. Clarice doesn’t know what she’ll do if it doesn’t.
Well, she better brush up on her non-existent sewing skills.
Author: JellyfishLover
Fandom: EndZone (Web Series)
Rating: Teen
Category: Gen
Relationship(s): Clarice & Climber
Character(s): Clarice, Climber, Castle of Nations
Word Count: 300 (triple drabble)
Spoiler: Spoilers for the ending. Takes place post-canon.
Summary: Clarice returns to the island holding the only good to come out of it limp in her arms.
Notes/Warnings: Mild language and past major character death.
Clarice never thought that she would willingly return to the island.
It was tricky enough to leave the first time as it was, and most of the population of it made fairly clear how unwelcomed she was. But, well, as they say: desperate times call for desperate measures, and this was certainly that.
The Castle of Nations looms above her, and she grips what remains of the only good thing to ever come out of this place closer to her chest. He's light, obviously, but somehow Clarice was still surprised, when she hugged him close back in that hellish asylum, as to how much so. He must have lost some of his stuffing at some point, she thought then, before realizing how that was an obvious and idiotic thing to think. The lack of limbs is self-evident. He's still light now. Probably lighter, no one bothered to stitch him back up. No time, no resources. Hopefully it’ll be fixed soon.
The Castle’s red stained glass glows. A loud voice rattles around the inside of Clarice's skull.
“Uh oh.” it says, rather anti-climatically, “How on earth did that happen?”
“A fire,” is Clarice’s flippant reply, an understatement if she ever made one, “and also some dark magic or something, I don’t know I was busy at the time. Look, is there anything you can do for him?”
The Castle hems and haws for a moment, damned thing, before hedging “Maybe? I mean, I can’t do anything about it being all torn up, but I can help with the other stuff.”
Thanks for stating the obvious, oh mighty force of nature. This all better be worth her time. It better bring him back. Clarice doesn’t know what she’ll do if it doesn’t.
Well, she better brush up on her non-existent sewing skills.
