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Sunday, February 22nd, 2015 03:49 pm
fourleafcleaver: (Default)
Clover Field ❃ 999
Age: 18 Height: 4'9" Bday: 11/1
Played by Courtney
HMD Visualosities Art Credit

week 8, thursday night

Wednesday, April 6th, 2016 12:38 am
fourleafcleaver: (they said all)
[Another week, another Thursday, another evening of being barricaded into underhell. No murderers are coming into or out of Undyne's room ever. Clover insists on making a pit stop at her room first, though, because she has goodies to pick up, which promptly get dumped onto Undyne's floor from a bag also containing a bunch of bows and ribbons and miscellaneous nonsense. Most importantly, though:]

I found glitter polish. [IT'S A MANICURES KIND OF NIGHT]
fourleafcleaver: (that they did)
[So Clover's hauled the underhell crew into the kitchen (mostly Undyne's done the hauling per Clover's request probably) with promises of dinner. None of the things she's grabbing from cabinets and the fridge and gracelessly tossing onto the counter are spaghetti.]

You guys are super great and all but if you keep trying to feed me spaghetti, I'm gonna either die or go crazy. [drops an entire sack of potatoes onto the counter; it makes an immensely satisfying thunk sound.] There's food that's not spaghetti! [and also ways to make spaghetti correctly but we'll get to that]
fourleafcleaver: (you always seem to want to take a pop)
[Clover? Awake this early??? Unbelievable. Or maybe less so when you consider how loud underhell sleepover probably is.

She's just kind of working under the assumption that if she's awake, so is everybody else, because she shouldn't be awake this early, so she's gonna come bang on Urashima's door, knocking to the tune of boom-ba-doom-boom boom-ba-doom-boom bass because even if no one cares about her retro girl rap it cheers her up (it's hardly even retro by 2027 standards Clover for shit's sake).

Someone promised me toast and cinnamon butter! [That someone is you Urashima!!!]
fourleafcleaver: (the boys and girls in the clique)
[Clover is mostly sure she doesn't want to do a violence this week. Mostly? It might make people sad if she did, and that would be a problem. It would be even more of a problem if she got caught. She spent most of yesterday weighing the pros and the cons. If she keeps this up, she's going to go absolutely fucking insane, though, so she needs to distract herself, and what better to distract her from worrying about a white-haired blind dude than worrying about a white-haired blind dude??????


Welp, regardless, after sleeping in for too long as is her god-given right as a teenage girl, she comes a-knocking at Break's door, determined.

I'm making breakfast! [It's probably approaching lunch at this point?? Cooking is the one thing she's good at here and she's gotta make sure someone's watching out for this sick blind grandpa now that he's lost his seeing eye Gilbert. She's making an effort, okay.]
fourleafcleaver: (i'm gonna blow up i'm gonna blow up)
[A girl's gotta eat. Glitter toilet spaghetti is not going to sustain Clover, much as Undyne is determined to try, and the only reason she's allowing herself to be in the presence of people who are skeletons and fish instead of people is because humans have basic biological needs like nutrients and also Urashima will be sad.

So off she goes, stalking down the third floor hallway, still in her pajamas.. The goal is to avoid everyone on her way to the kitchen and back, but let's be realistic here: nah.
fourleafcleaver: (this hell that holds me)
[The problem is: Clover needs to eat.

There are a lot of problems, but this one's the one she can actually solve. Undyne's been doing everything she can to help but cooking is...not exactly her strong suit.

It's all about going through the motions. She doesn't want to eat, but she should. She waits until she thinks the kitchen might be empty and, after a lot of staring into cabinets, gets as far as starting a pot of coffee.

Fifteen minutes later, that's still as far as she's gotten. The coffee's gone lukewarm and she hasn't even poured herself a mug. There should be a next step, but she doesn't have the energy in her to decide to care about figuring out what it is.

So here's Clover, who has not changed out of her pajamas since Monday night and hasn't brushed her hair since Sunday and goodness gracious does it show, leaning heavily against the counter and staring blankly at the coffee pot.

Coping: nailed it.
fourleafcleaver: (so put 'em up put 'em up take a bite)
[Thursday night is murder night, which means the small pinks absolutely cannot be left to their own devices. The third floor is no longer a magical safe haven and frankly, Clover's room is a mess, so she's off to spend the night at Lucy's so she can fight anyone who tries to fuck with either of them. The perfect plan.

She's already changed into her pajamas, because she's one of those people, so she's only brought a toothbrush and stuff, some junk food snacks, and a change of clothes she won't mind investigating a murder in for tomorrow. The entire half-ounce of self preservation instinct in her is used in making the decision to come knocking at Lucy's door not too long after it starts to get dark.

Yoo-hoo! Just me!
fourleafcleaver: (pushed me to fight)
[Well this weekend was sure a whole lot of something, but it's—Clover doesn't want to say over, not as long as they're all still here, but they aren't actively dealing with it anymore and that's something.

For the most part, everyone seems to have dispersed from the common areas, so Clover ends up coming to knock on Lucy's door when she doesn't find her hanging around.

Hey, Lucy? It's just Clover. [Pppause.] Nothing happened, don't freak out.
fourleafcleaver: (will make 'em pay for the things)
[Hi, network! Here's Clover, hanging around her hotel room where one of her many Munna occasionally drifts through the air in the background and looking completely unamused.]

The whole wishes thing has been established and figured out as actually happening and all, right? So, survey time: most completely misinterpreted any of your wishes have gotten. I'll go first.

[And she reaches somewhere off-screen and presents to the camera a...desk lamp??]

This is not my brother.

[her brother's name is Light

presenting: the face of someone who is just 999% done
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