clarissagrayfangs

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There was a split second when Clary deeply considered turning around and never looking back, again. When she'd first left, she'd been allowed out. Now, Clary had to slip through a crack in the dome that came from the shudder that rippled through it. She knew as soon as she stepped through, it was sealed behind her. Bloody hell. Moving quickly, Clary was by Willow Evermore's side, pushing the tree off her with all her two-hundred and forty-nine years of strength. Holding hers out, Clary then asked, "Need a hand?"

Willow had been at the edge of the dome, doing the now usual routine of pushing their magic against it, looking for weak spots, when the shaking had begun. It had sent her to the forest floor, and that would have been fine. Willow could bounce back from a little fall. Except that the disruption to the earth had also caused one of the trees to fall, pining her beneath its branches. Yes, she was well and truly stuck. @havensdalestarters

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Clarissa shouldn't have found him so endearing, but she seemed unable to help herself. 'Baltimore, I mean'. An amused smile tugged at her lips at his words, and she found herself holding back a little chuckle. Already, he was entirely too sweet for a vampire. At least, the sort that she'd had the misfortune of knowing over the decades. When he introduced himself, she found herself turning his name over in her head. Cornelius. Corey, if she liked. Clarissa considered his question, deciding just who she wanted to be at this moment, assuming it would be only a moment. Over the years, she had removed herself more and more from her human life. Her mother's name, 'Elizabeth', was still hers, even if she never said or wrote it anymore. For whatever reason, then, Clarissa found herself saying, "It seems I do like it, Corey it is. You can - it's Elizabeth Grayson, but why don't you call me 'Elle'. If you like." She repeated it back, teasingly.

"You said you're here with your brothers?" she asked, gesturing towards him, "are they...?" Vampires.

It had been barely 7 years since his death. Rebirth. As a human he'd seen so little of the world, barely crossing state borders from Illinois through to Indiana - he could have stayed his whole life in the bubble of Chicago if it hadn't been taken from them. He'd come around to understanding the necessity in ridding themselves of all connections to their home, but 7 years on, he was still homesick. Baltimore was a far stretch from the life he'd known back home. They'd arrived only few days prior, and he was faced with the challenge of once again establishing himself in a new place, and a new society.

There was something strange, still, about not hearing a heartbeat. He'd not quite gotten used to the feeling of knowing that a person wasn't a human, and having made every attempt to blend in with the furniture, he wasn't sure what he'd done to be deserving of this particular vampire's attention. She was striking, so much so that he'd entirely forgotten to respond to her question amidst the wonder of her presence. "I..." He shook his head lightly, trying to blink away the enchantment she'd cast on him by just being. "I've never had the pleasure, until now." He carefully took a step closer to her wanting to introduce himself, but more desperately needing to know her. "Quite mesmerising. Baltimore, I mean." A nervous laugh accompanied his embarrassment. "I'm Cornelius, though you can call me Corey, if you'd like. I, um, arrived a few days ago with my brothers. I- Can I ask your name?"

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Flashback: New York, 1932

Clarissa's life was once again consumed by revenge. There was no denying the power of Vivian Vandeviere, and the hold that she would have forever on Clarissa. Until she finally took her dying breath, this would never be over. She would never know peace. By now, she had firmly pushed aside any hope of pulling herself out of the darkness. No, she would let it consume her now. It was the only way to do what she must. Clarissa had lost precious time, though. Her foolish little dalliances throughout the 1920s had thrown her off course. She wasn't even sure where the Vandevieres were now, but she would find them.

The plan tonight, however, was to gain some human allies. The criminal underworld here hadn't been difficult for her to figure out, to infiltrate her way into. She would play the part of the pretty little thing, until she was ready to turn deadly. There was going to be yet another party, yet another gratuitous meeting of the who's who, the worst of the worst. What counted as powerful and influential in a human world.

'Please, I don't know---' the voice suddenly broke Clarissa out of her thoughts. She'd almost forgotten he was there, tied to the chair, snivelling. "You are going to tell me where she is-," his arm was definitely broken now- "Or you're leaving here in a body bag." She was about to punctuate her threat with another broken bone when she heard something - someone - stir in the shadows. She barely suppressed her exasperate sigh. "This is a private party." @c-harlesemerson

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Flashback: Baltimore, 1929

Clarissa had been taking a break this decade from her unending quest for revenge. She had decided that she was done with Vivian Vandeviere and her reign of terror. If Clarissa was doomed to this eternal life, this souless venture, perhaps she could try and enjoy it, if only for the 1920s. Making her way to New York, Baltimore was only a pit stop for her. It was difficult, trying to embrace what she was, to not fall into despair. To long and brood for a life that had once been hers, centuries ago. The fact of the matter was that she would never be human again. So, why not enjoy a little song and dance, and a drink from the vein?

For now, though, the day was still young and the sun still shining. It was with that thought that she noticed him. Clarissa had little interest in other vampires, often avoided them or opted for throwing them out of high story windows. But something about him gave her pause, which was mildly annoying, actually. He wasn't even really doing anything, and there she was making her way over. "First time?" she raised a brow, adding, "In Baltimore, I mean." @corey-andrews-hih

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What a beautiful day...

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Clarissa ‘Clary’ Liu

She/They

275 years old (Birthday: 27th December)

Vampire

Neutral - on the outside of Domesdale

So What Happened?

Okay, quick recap? Clary’s whole dang life as a vampire was about one thing and one thing only: revenge. Sure, she strayed over the years and occasionally made a meaningful connection but the goal remained. Nothing would get between Clary and finally eliminating Vivian Vandeviere.

Fast forward several hundred years and we’re in Havensdale Valley. Clary had been so patient, had planned everything so carefully and when it came down to it... She let emotion get the better of her. It was a fatal mistake. When they made their move, Vivian barely knew it had happened as Frederick Bellefonte took Clary out of the equation. A bite from a werewolf. A terrible way to die.

It had been nothing short of a soul shattering wake up call. What had their life been? So much wasted time... It was time she shouldn’t have had in the first place. Clary never wanted to be a vampire and now it was coming to a close. The irony? If she were to be saved, they’d need the blood of the very vampire who sired her unknowingly: Vivian. As ever, it all came back to Vivian. 

Somehow her beloved Charlie Emerson managed to pull it off and she was cured. Alive again. Devastated, again. Lost and helpless- again. The question was almost too much to bear: who was she without revenge?

The actions of the so-called ‘Big Bads’ in town were of no interest to her. Knowing Drake was safe and taken care of left her with too much time to dwell. Weeks become months become years and she felt like she was living in a dream. A fugue. Clary just wanted to be alone and with Charlie’s growing unrest and growing obsession with that hunter (Karen McReid) they soured more and more.

Enough was enough. Clary brokered a deal to leave the Dome and did not look back. Since then, she’s been trying to rediscover a love of life. Laughing, crying, driving with the wind in their hair. A journey of self discovery almost 300 years overdue. She started using her real, human, family name again. She started to make meaningful connections. For the first time in a long time, Clary feels they finally have a chance.

Wanted Connections

As ever, any old timey connections from her 200+ years on this earth! Especially if they could potentially make amends.

Anyone on the outside of Domesdale she could have met/stuck around with/had fun with.

The ‘deal’ she brokered most likely had something to do with her getting something for the bad guysTM eventually so..... just something to think about!

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not-so-charming-charlie:

In 1932, Charles Emerson- now Charlie- had only been a vampire for four years, but already he had caused as much havoc as any vampire twice his age. His human life had never been one to brag about, particularly after everyone who he had actually cared about had died, but his vampire life? That one was one to be proud of. Charlie had taken to being a vampire so swiftly and easily, as though he were always meant to be this version of himself. The vampires surrounding him would often comment on the humanity they had turned off in order to fully experience this world, but it took him a long while to realise that he didn’t have this switch that they all seemed so obsessed with.

He remained with Piper through these four years, and intended on staying with her longer, until one night in New York. There was a girl- of course it was a girl. Charlie couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone like her. Even Piper couldn’t compete with her in his eyes. His maker was beautiful, of course, but this girl. Wow. If he had had a breath to steal it would have left with her.

Leaving Piper, he had followed the woman all the way to some building in… well, he wasn’t all that sure of where they were. Having been born and raised in Chicago, Charlie had never really seen much of the world, New York included. All he could really say about the location was that the architecture was incredible.

But back to the girl.

Charlie followed her right on up to the top floor and it was here, lurking in the shadows, that he watched her interrogate a helpless human. The man’s wrist snapped under the pressure of her grasp and a smirk placed itself upon Charlie’s lips. This woman was perfect. He wasn’t particularly bothered about who this mystery girl was that she seemed to be looking for, he simply wished to admire her from afar as she broke more of this man’s bones.

However, that didn’t seem to be what was going down any more. Charlie could hear her words, so he knew that he had been caught, but still he remained where he was; watching in delight as she threw him through the large glass window adjacent from them. “Maybe so.” He responded to her words, positively giddy that she had finally acknowledged him. Charlie stepped out from his not-so-hidden hiding spot, the smirk still firmly in place. “But perhaps you weren’t aware… I’m Charlie Emerson. I don’t need an invitation.”

Cocky, arrogant, presumptuous vampire. Clary hardly had the time to contain the impatient sigh that threatened to break free from her lips. She was suddenly determined to keep her cool (throwing hapless humans out of windows was cathartic after all) so she refrained. The look she gave him however was nothing short of bored. If she had to hazard a guess she would have estimated he hadn’t been undead for very long at all. He had the bravado of a newbie and she had the tired, damned soul of one doomed to precisely one-hundred and one years thus far. Essentially, Clarissa Grayson did not have time for this.

“You’re a vampire, you would think that you’d be quite familiar with the concept of needing an invitation by now actually.” She looked away from him suddenly interested in a spot of blood that had gotten on her ringed fingers. Hm. That would have to be cleaned up before tonight. One never entered a party with blood on their hands, at least not physically. Almost every man at the soiree tonight would have the metaphorical kind on his hands.

“No, I wasn’t aware.” A small, controlled breath later and she’d closed the distance between them. Her hand had shot out in one swift movement, closing around his throat while she shoved him against the wall. She really did not have time for this. The sun had truly set on her time with other vampires, ones whose company she could let herself enjoy without the crippling sense of shame and disgust. She could have ripped his heart out she figured, she was certainly older than him. Stronger. Not that he knew that of course but… She really did have somewhere to be.

“I’m Clarissa Grayson and I’m late so if you don’t mind, I’m going to go ahead and cut this little chat short. I suggest that you re-direct yourself to the nearest speakeasy or perhaps a hospital if you don’t play your cards right,” she loosened her grip every so slightly then — she was keeping her cool, remember? She even managed a smile. “Find yourself as someone else’s shadow.” And then she let go. In fact, she was already in the process of completely forgetting about this nuisance. Tonight she was planning on securing her place with the current power and leadership of New York’s mob. They had the human resources that she needed to get back up on her feet. She could suffer the sequences and pretty smiles and dancing for another night if it meant that she was one step closer to getting what she wanted. Who she wanted.

She’d turned on her heel by that point, thoughts far too occupied with Vivian Vandeviere to think of what Charlie Emerson might have been doing. Or how he’d looked at her when she’d been…discussing things with that human. She wasn’t sure that she could or she shouldn’t. She was no stranger to danger but she had a gut feeling that this one would be far more trouble than he was worth.

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New York City; 1932 ⚜ Clarlie

New York, 1932. Another day, another useless human involved in vampire business. Another window that would surely come out of this less than whole. Clary had enjoyed every second of the 20s with Angel and Bryce, she had and she wasn’t much for enjoying things. Not while she was still out there. Breathing. No, Clary rarely took a pause from her purpose. The sole reason she hadn’t stuck a stake in her own heart centuries ago. Still, as fun as it was it had to end. It had to because if it hadn’t then Clary was admitting defeat.

Clarissa Grayson did not admit defeat.

What her time with her dysfunctional vampire duo had done however was throw her off her game. Taken her out of the scene for a while. It had been one year since Angel had left and Bryce had followed and in that one year Vivian Vandeviere and Verity Vandeviere had slipped through Clary’s fingers. Which she hated and when Clarissa Grayson hates… She hates. Many an innocent bystander has fallen victim to her outbursts already but that can hardly be classed as her fault. She hadn’t asked to be turned into a monster. She hadn’t asked for any of this.

Anyway, back to the useless human.

“Tell me where you saw her,” the crack of a wrist, an accompanying scream… God, humans were annoying. Then the pleading and the crying. It was a good thing she had opted to wear the over-sized suit jacket over her dress. She was prime mob arm candy. Blood on her sequins would not be accepted. Clary was quickly becoming impatient and the smell of blood was starting to burn her nostrils. It was just as she was jamming another nail into his palm that she heard it. She paused for the briefest of seconds, the disgruntled sigh forcing itself from her lungs as she looked at her useless human.

“Okay. Okay, fine. I believe you. You don’t know anything,” she hated that look of hope. That maybe it was over. She could just compel it away and he’d be on his way. He was wrong, “Unfortunately I appear to have some alternative company so you’ll have to go.” She was a blur. It wasn’t until the glass had shattered that any human would have registered what had just happened. Okay. So maybe she had a slight flair for the dramatic but whatever. Now for the other problem.

“You know, this was a private conversation I don’t recall inviting you to participate in.”

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003: Clary doesn’t often dwell on thoughts of family.

You wouldn’t either if you happened to have slaughtered most of them on what would have been the most wonderful night of your human life.

Still, somewhere deep down in her sentimental little heart there remains something for her lost loved ones. Dwelling doesn’t help, not when you’re immortal and all she cared for was her revenge. She never wanted to look back…until she did. Two-hundred some years is a long time but with a lot of digging and the handy-dandy internet (not that she’d ever admit to its handy-dandyness) she managed to track down one of her living descendants.

It’s very distant, the relation, but Drake Santos surely comes from her family’s line. Her family.

So she slipped up. She cared. She stayed in the shadows, of course and only checked in once or twice. Three times. Maybe more. She never revealed herself to him, never intruded on his life. She may have compelled a soul or two in order to get Drake out of his self-made trouble but what are family for? Or whatever.

Then he went and got himself turned into a werewolf.

An unruly one at that and finally she had to step in. He’d managed to get himself into a spat with a showy vampire who wasn’t alone. The full moon was nowhere in sight and Drake was way in over his head like any insolent child would be. So she stepped in. She whoosh-whooshed onto the scene and dragged him away so quickly no one noticed her. He was just gone from his self-made trouble in a flash.

And no, she still hasn’t mentioned who she is. Or why she cares. Or even her name really. All things she never wanted to get to and yet…

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002: Marriage.

Clarissa Grayson was always going to be married. Given her social status that was simply a given but it never felt like a chore to her. Many of the things in her life did but not that. She held tightly to the idea of a marriage, a partnership in which she would have someone love, cherish and support her until death parted them. Maybe even longer. She wanted that kind of love. The kind of love that wasn’t simply bred out of necessity and she was so very lucky to have found it.

Gale Abernathy was the son of one of her father’s closest friends and advisers and from the moment she’d laid eyes on him she’d been completely smitten. He was perfect. Her parents adored him, he was obedient and level-headed, mannered, sweet and funny. All Clary had wanted then was to be allowed to marry who she loved, although she would not have protested regardless of the outcome. Fortunately that hadn’t been the circumstances. A lavish party was thrown at the Grayson Manor and as Clarissa danced with Gale, the most charming man she had yet to meet, she started to think that perhaps this was it. She had found something special. Later, Gale would come to ask her hand as they stood on the balcony overlooking the rest of the world.

That same night, Clary left her betrothed to freshen up only to be cornered by a sadistic monster and accidentally turned into the very same thing. Clary killed Gale, along with her parents. She hadn’t meant to. She wasn’t in control, she didn’t know what was happening, what she was turning into… That grief, that guilt– it would have crippled her if she hadn’t held onto the rage. The want, the need for revenge. Her revenge was all she had.

Until she met Charles Emerson.

At the time Clary had left behind her years spent partying with Angel and Bryce in the best Speakeasies in town and was back on the revenge track. He interrupted her search for Vivian. He infuriated her. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to leave him completely alone. Because he made her feel something. Not rage, but something else. Charlie understood and saw clearly the darkest parts of her and he embraced them in ways not even she could bring herself too. It was freeing. To be able to tap into that place she had feared because the darker you allow yourself to become the harder the guilt could hit you. Only she wasn’t afraid, not with him. Eventually she came to recognise that he let her feel love again. Maybe she couldn’t be the person she wanted to be, not until Vivian was dead, but she could be a version of that person.

Vampires feel immensely. Their emotions are heightened and when they love… They can really love. So Clary married Charlie and the streets ran red with celebratory blood and the ring that hangs around her neck is a reminder that anger isn’t the only thing worth feeling. That one day she will have a very good reason to let go of it.

She never told anyone, and for all intensive purposes she uses her maiden name but she is in fact Mrs Clarissa Emerson.

[clarissagrayfangs]

clarissa-gray-fangs​:

001: Clary has only ever turned one human.

In two-hundred and seventy years she has only ever turned one human. You see in the Vandeviere’s early days they had little care for… how do you say? Subtly. They burned down whole cities, slaughtered everyone they could get their hands on and then danced around in the ashes. Clary was still young, and she was angry. That was the only thing that kept her going then. It was like running on empty but still going through sheer force of will and it was inevitable she was going to burn out.

So here we all were in one of those unfortunate slaughter sites and Clary was going to do it. She could see Vivian. She could hear her. She could feel her. She was seconds away from striking when he grabbed her leg. Dying, bleeding, barely conscious and here was this human clinging onto her and asking her for help. Maybe it was because it was because of them or maybe it was because he reminded her of him, or maybe it was because she was burned out. Either way her humanity? Her heart, was hit hard.

Before she knew what she was doing she was feeding on him, feeding him her blood and letting him die. It was over in minutes. He woke up, he fed, he… He was so grateful to be alive. To be strong. Fast. He couldn’t thank her enough. That’s when something snapped in Clary. She smiled. And he hugged her, he told her thank you, thank you so much.

And she staked him through the back and into his heart killing him before he could finish his last words.

That was her last lapse in judgement.

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JESSIE MEI LI for The Laterals