Eda Clawthorne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
edalyn) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
apocalypsehowcomm2023-07-19 10:50 pm
edalyn) wrote in apocalypsehowcomm2023-07-19 10:50 pm
Log | July Catch-all | Open
Who: Edalyn Clawthorne + maybe you!
When: Throughout July
Where: Around Gloucester + the ADI
Summary: Eda helps with a Christmas party, has a bad experience with candy, checks out the Wolfe seal, and fights geese. Eda also starts to look increasingly tired and miserable.
Warnings: arachnophobia, body horror (including one instance that isn’t but potentially looks like self harm), animal attacks, possible harm to geese, supernaturally induced depression/anxiety/loneliness, mental/physical health degradation, emotional breakdowns
Holly Jolly
a) It's finally happened.
This place has officially broken her down.
Edalyn Clawthorne has compromised the last of her remaining standards.
Because she used to draw the line at novelty costumes.
Unfortunately for her, Pam looked sad. And Eda may or may not feel just a little bad about stealing certain access codes. So here she is, delivering people little gifts that she really, really hopes aren't cursed. Someone is going to have a hell of a lot to answer for if they're cursed. But it's fine. Probably.
She's also dressed like an elf. And, perhaps more notably, in witch form. While she's been trying to avoid unnecessary magic, sometimes she has to burn some power off. And since it seems that's going to get her in less trouble than it used to, she's decided she could use a break from having to duck under every doorframe.
Which means she also looks, more or less, like an elf. With a long fluffy weasel tail. It seems that she's stuck with that whatever she does. At least there are worse fates—she’s pretty sure she makes it work.
Perhaps you catch her in the act of dropping a little gift off for you, or perhaps you simply pass her in the hallway and get a look that dares you to say something.
b) The fact she’s still dressed this way later, at the actual party, is less Pam’s fault and more Raine’s. They insisted she should participate in the local customs. And also bribed her about it. Unfortunately, she’s weaker to their charms than she’d like to admit.
Which leaves Eda, still dressed like an elf, eating whatever a roast beef pizza is, and looking deeply awkward in this restaurant. If nothing else, the decorations are fun–she likes the shiny objects, at least. And might be caught batting at a plastic icicle like a cat once or twice.
Her own ‘gift’ is sitting on the table near her as she eats; a tiny mechanical ornament of an old bearded man who appears to be fishing. She assumes it’s festive for some reason that would make sense to a human. If it has a matching partner, she doesn’t know what that would look like.
A New Spin
cw: arachnophobia, body horror
Given the incident with the chocolates, Eda should probably realise that it’s a bad idea to eat unattended candy around the ADI.
But she’s also been getting most of her sweets–and the occasional cooking ingredients as well–from Bumble Gum for months. The shop may have strangely mixed opinions from the humans, but she’s yet to find anything supernatural about it. In fact, it’s nice to finally have some food that wouldn’t be out of place on the Boiling Isles.
And if there’s often something just slightly spiteful in the way she crunches down on candied spiders, in particular, well, that’s just a little bonus. They’ve simply become a creature that she’s less fond of since getting here.
Either way, she’s hardly thinking when she idly begins popping fried, sugar-coated spiders into her mouth. She’s entirely surprised by the sudden feeling of more limbs than she normally has.
When she looks down, even turning around trying to see her whole back, she doesn’t see anything. Even when she tries to move the phantom limbs and feels them move. She’s on the ADI grounds, so it isn’t a matter of glamour. But whatever it is, she doesn't like it. She slowly puts down the rest of the spiders with a slightly shaky breath.
Murderous Geese
cw: animal attacks, possible harm to animals
Eda tends to spend a lot of time in or near the woods—the ones that aren’t part of Dogtown at any rate.
By now, much of the local wildlife knows to avoid her in much the same way they avoid free-roaming cats. She’s a menace and, at this point, ultimately a fact of life.
Some things are braver, of course. She’s used to getting yelled at by various birds.
The loud hissing still startles her, though. Even for geese, the flock stepping into her path seem especially bold. She’s relatively sure they’re unusually toothy for Human Realm birds, too.
She hisses back. This can only end well.
Accidental Archaeologists
Eda’s last visit to Hammond Castle wasn’t exactly a great time, and she’s definitely planning to give any taxidermy she happens to see a wide berth.
But on the other hand, she’s a little worried about people digging up anything Dogtown related, especially after the rash of artifact incidents. Wolves have been a running theme around here, too. Even if it’s spelled a bit differently from the towns.
Eda can be found with her nose near the glass of the new display, peering suspiciously at the wax seal.
A Breakdown
i. my nerves are wrecked and coming unwound
cw: supernaturally induced depression/anxiety/loneliness, mental/physical health degradation
Anyone who knows Eda particularly well may start to notice something by the mid-point of July. Even people who only know her in passing may start to notice by the end of the month.
In short, she doesn’t look good.
She starts to seem worn, unusually tired. Then again, that could be said about a lot of ADI employees in the wake of recent revelations and missions.
The circles under her eyes become more noticeable over time, like she’s not sleeping well or as often as she should—or perhaps simply not getting enough rest even if she does.
At first, she actually seems slightly more talkative. Willing to engage and spend time with people more often than is usually characteristic for the oft-prickly woman, even now that she’s made friends here.
There’s an almost desperate edge to the way she grasps at connection.
And then, eventually, that changes.
Eda becomes more withdrawn, and more secretive. Notably anxious, and quick to insist that she’s fine in a way that she’s been, until recently, learning to stop doing.
ii. does everybody have it together or are we all pretending?
cw: prev + emotional breakdowns
At some point, you might spot her suddenly breaking down in tears, when she thinks there’s no one around to see it.
Huddled behind a building, or perhaps a shelf in the archives, if she thinks everyone else in research has gone home for the day. Nothing in particular seems to set her off, as much as she just… in the middle of whatever else she was doing, cracks.
She sinks to the ground and buries her face in her arms, muttering something that sounds a lot like I can’t keep doing this.
iii. i rip myself apart at the seams / i find one weak spot and start unraveling
cw: prev + mild body horror, not actually self harm but could appear that way
Or, perhaps, you catch her doing something that might or might not be more concerning to most people.
Eda seems distant as she idly picks one of her hands apart, joint by joint.
The segments separate cleanly, bloodlessly, with little pops. She doesn’t react like there’s any pain when she does it. Despite the nature of what she’s doing, her mannerisms appear more like an anxious habit than anything else; akin to fidgeting, just in the strangest possible way.
Watch long enough without disturbing her, and she’ll start putting it back together, reassembling her fingers with a practiced ease.
When: Throughout July
Where: Around Gloucester + the ADI
Summary: Eda helps with a Christmas party, has a bad experience with candy, checks out the Wolfe seal, and fights geese. Eda also starts to look increasingly tired and miserable.
Warnings: arachnophobia, body horror (including one instance that isn’t but potentially looks like self harm), animal attacks, possible harm to geese, supernaturally induced depression/anxiety/loneliness, mental/physical health degradation, emotional breakdowns
Holly Jolly
a) It's finally happened.
This place has officially broken her down.
Edalyn Clawthorne has compromised the last of her remaining standards.
Because she used to draw the line at novelty costumes.
Unfortunately for her, Pam looked sad. And Eda may or may not feel just a little bad about stealing certain access codes. So here she is, delivering people little gifts that she really, really hopes aren't cursed. Someone is going to have a hell of a lot to answer for if they're cursed. But it's fine. Probably.
She's also dressed like an elf. And, perhaps more notably, in witch form. While she's been trying to avoid unnecessary magic, sometimes she has to burn some power off. And since it seems that's going to get her in less trouble than it used to, she's decided she could use a break from having to duck under every doorframe.
Which means she also looks, more or less, like an elf. With a long fluffy weasel tail. It seems that she's stuck with that whatever she does. At least there are worse fates—she’s pretty sure she makes it work.
Perhaps you catch her in the act of dropping a little gift off for you, or perhaps you simply pass her in the hallway and get a look that dares you to say something.
b) The fact she’s still dressed this way later, at the actual party, is less Pam’s fault and more Raine’s. They insisted she should participate in the local customs. And also bribed her about it. Unfortunately, she’s weaker to their charms than she’d like to admit.
Which leaves Eda, still dressed like an elf, eating whatever a roast beef pizza is, and looking deeply awkward in this restaurant. If nothing else, the decorations are fun–she likes the shiny objects, at least. And might be caught batting at a plastic icicle like a cat once or twice.
Her own ‘gift’ is sitting on the table near her as she eats; a tiny mechanical ornament of an old bearded man who appears to be fishing. She assumes it’s festive for some reason that would make sense to a human. If it has a matching partner, she doesn’t know what that would look like.
A New Spin
cw: arachnophobia, body horror
Given the incident with the chocolates, Eda should probably realise that it’s a bad idea to eat unattended candy around the ADI.
But she’s also been getting most of her sweets–and the occasional cooking ingredients as well–from Bumble Gum for months. The shop may have strangely mixed opinions from the humans, but she’s yet to find anything supernatural about it. In fact, it’s nice to finally have some food that wouldn’t be out of place on the Boiling Isles.
And if there’s often something just slightly spiteful in the way she crunches down on candied spiders, in particular, well, that’s just a little bonus. They’ve simply become a creature that she’s less fond of since getting here.
Either way, she’s hardly thinking when she idly begins popping fried, sugar-coated spiders into her mouth. She’s entirely surprised by the sudden feeling of more limbs than she normally has.
When she looks down, even turning around trying to see her whole back, she doesn’t see anything. Even when she tries to move the phantom limbs and feels them move. She’s on the ADI grounds, so it isn’t a matter of glamour. But whatever it is, she doesn't like it. She slowly puts down the rest of the spiders with a slightly shaky breath.
Murderous Geese
cw: animal attacks, possible harm to animals
Eda tends to spend a lot of time in or near the woods—the ones that aren’t part of Dogtown at any rate.
By now, much of the local wildlife knows to avoid her in much the same way they avoid free-roaming cats. She’s a menace and, at this point, ultimately a fact of life.
Some things are braver, of course. She’s used to getting yelled at by various birds.
The loud hissing still startles her, though. Even for geese, the flock stepping into her path seem especially bold. She’s relatively sure they’re unusually toothy for Human Realm birds, too.
She hisses back. This can only end well.
Accidental Archaeologists
Eda’s last visit to Hammond Castle wasn’t exactly a great time, and she’s definitely planning to give any taxidermy she happens to see a wide berth.
But on the other hand, she’s a little worried about people digging up anything Dogtown related, especially after the rash of artifact incidents. Wolves have been a running theme around here, too. Even if it’s spelled a bit differently from the towns.
Eda can be found with her nose near the glass of the new display, peering suspiciously at the wax seal.
A Breakdown
i. my nerves are wrecked and coming unwound
cw: supernaturally induced depression/anxiety/loneliness, mental/physical health degradation
Anyone who knows Eda particularly well may start to notice something by the mid-point of July. Even people who only know her in passing may start to notice by the end of the month.
In short, she doesn’t look good.
She starts to seem worn, unusually tired. Then again, that could be said about a lot of ADI employees in the wake of recent revelations and missions.
The circles under her eyes become more noticeable over time, like she’s not sleeping well or as often as she should—or perhaps simply not getting enough rest even if she does.
At first, she actually seems slightly more talkative. Willing to engage and spend time with people more often than is usually characteristic for the oft-prickly woman, even now that she’s made friends here.
There’s an almost desperate edge to the way she grasps at connection.
And then, eventually, that changes.
Eda becomes more withdrawn, and more secretive. Notably anxious, and quick to insist that she’s fine in a way that she’s been, until recently, learning to stop doing.
ii. does everybody have it together or are we all pretending?
cw: prev + emotional breakdowns
At some point, you might spot her suddenly breaking down in tears, when she thinks there’s no one around to see it.
Huddled behind a building, or perhaps a shelf in the archives, if she thinks everyone else in research has gone home for the day. Nothing in particular seems to set her off, as much as she just… in the middle of whatever else she was doing, cracks.
She sinks to the ground and buries her face in her arms, muttering something that sounds a lot like I can’t keep doing this.
iii. i rip myself apart at the seams / i find one weak spot and start unraveling
cw: prev + mild body horror, not actually self harm but could appear that way
Or, perhaps, you catch her doing something that might or might not be more concerning to most people.
Eda seems distant as she idly picks one of her hands apart, joint by joint.
The segments separate cleanly, bloodlessly, with little pops. She doesn’t react like there’s any pain when she does it. Despite the nature of what she’s doing, her mannerisms appear more like an anxious habit than anything else; akin to fidgeting, just in the strangest possible way.
Watch long enough without disturbing her, and she’ll start putting it back together, reassembling her fingers with a practiced ease.