Yuffie Kisaragi

[scrapdraught]

placeholder

Comments

WEEK 0: First Saturday

[scrapdraught]

[The Mortuary should have been her first stop for investigation. Instead it's her last. Something about the finality was off putting, so sue her.

Camille pries the lid off of one and studies the velvet interior. She looks less than enthused.]

Think anyone spent the night in one of these?

[They weren't exactly flush with bedding options.]

[mogger]

[ yuffie is now in her proper outfit (which covers less than the robe did) and eying the coffins skeptically.... creeped out ]

Knowing the weirdos here? Probably.

But honestly, I don't think there's a non-creepy place to sleep.

WEEK 1: Monday

[scrapdraught]

[They are at the clothing store. Camille is hunting for things that are A) dark, B) contemporary and C) full coverage.

Though upon spying the younger girl entering the shop, she tosses a pair of cat ears to her.]

Found something for you.

[mogger]

[ yuffie is wearing an approximation of of what i have in this icon, along with sunglasses. but she takes the cat ears ]

I think you should try it on, actually.

Are ya holding up after the last few days? [ yuffie was having feelings but she did notice camille struggling a bit too ]

WEEK 1: Sunday

[scrapdraught]

[She's laid out under the fruit trees, the pits of two peaches polluting the grass at her side. Camille stares up at the sky, unmoving save for the begrudging rise and fall of her chest. There's a third peach clutched to her belly, forgotten now that the buzz has sunk in.

It's different right? At least she didn't go for the wine.

Karma's nails had splinters under them. Clawing to get outside.

Her other hand lifts at last, covering her eyes.]

[mogger]

[ this is quite sad to look at, even if she didn't go for the wine. yuffie has seen plenty of adults drink their life away, and, well, after this weekend.... ]

[ yuffie invites herself over and plops down next to camille ]

You gonna be okay?

WEEK 2: Tuesday (1/2)

[scrapdraught]

[Whether you follow the puppy rule or are aware Ishtar is dead or not, we are getting swallowed into a void! Welcome. Pull up a seat, make yourself comfortable.]

2/2 (EXCERPT) ((SPOILERS, CWs for child murder, 18yo drinking))

[scrapdraught]

I drove back past my mother's house, then east out toward the hog farm, and pulled up to Heelah's, that comforting, windowless block of a bar where anyone who recognized the boss' daughter would wisely leave her to her thoughts.

The place stank of pig blood and urine; even the popcorn in the bowls along the bar smelled of flesh. A couple of men in baseball caps and leather jackets, handlebar mustaches and scowls, looked up, then back down to their beers. The bartender poured me my bourbon without a word. A Carole King song droned from the speakers. On my second round, the bartender motioned behind me and asked, "You lookin' for him?"

John Keene sat slumped over a drink in the bar's only booth, picking at the splintered edge of the table.His white skin was mottled pink with liquor, and from his wet lips and the way he smacked his tongue, I guessed he'd vomited once already. I grabbed my drink and sat across from him, said nothing. He smiled at me, reached his hand to mine across the table.

"Hi Camille. How're you doing? You look so nice and clean." He looked around. "It's...it's so dirty here."

"I'm doing okay I guess, John. You okay?"

"Oh sure, I'm great. My sister's murdered, I'm about to be arrested, and my girlfriend who's stuck to me like glue since I moved to this rotten town is starting to realize I'm not the prize anymore. Not that I care that much. She's nice but not..."

"Not surprising," I offered.

"Yeah. Yeah. I was about to break up with her before Natalie. Now I can't."

Such a move would be dissected by the whole town—Richard, too. What does it mean? How does it prove his guilt?

"I will not go back to my parents' house," he muttered. "I will go to the fucking woods and kill myself before I go back to all of Natalie's things staring at me."

"I don't blame you."

He picked up the salt shaker, began twirling it around the table.

"You're the only person who understands, I think," he said. "What it's like to lose a sister and be expected to just deal. Just move on. Have you gotten over it?" He said the words so bitterly I expected his tongue to turn yellow.

"You'll never get over it," I said. "It infects you. It ruined me." It felt good to say it out loud.

"Why does everyone think it's so strange that I should mourn Natalie?" John topped the shaker and it clattered to the floor. The bartender sent over a disgruntled look. I picked it up, set it on my side of the table, threw a pinch of salt over my shoulder for the both of us.

"I guess when you're young, people expect you to accept things more easily," I said. "And you're a guy. Guys don't have soft feelings."

He snorted. "My parents got me this book on dealing with death: Male in Mourning. It said that sometimes you need to drop out, to just deny. That denial can be good for men. So I tried to take an hour and pretend like I didn't care. And for a little bit, I really didn't. I sat in my room at Meredith's and I thought about...bullshit. I just stared out the window at this little square of blue sky and kept saying, It's okay, it's okay, it's okay. Like I was a kid again. And when I was done, I knew for sure nothing would ever be okay again. Even if they caught who did it, it wouldn't be okay. I don't know why everyone keeps saying we'll feel better once someone's arrested. Now it looks like the someone who's going to be arrested is me." He laughed in a grunt and shook his head. "It's just fucking insane." And then, abruptly: "You want another drink? Will you have another drink with me?"

He was smashed, swaying heavily, but I would never steer a fellow sufferer from the relief of a blackout. Sometimes that's the most logical route. I've always believed clear-eyed sobriety was for the harder hearted. I had a shot at the bar to catch up, then came back with two bourbons. Mine a double.

"It's like the picked the two girls in Wind Gap who had minds of their own and killed them off," John said. He took a sip of bourbon. "Do you think your sister and my sister would have been friends?"

In that imaginary place where they were both alive, where Marian had never aged.

"No," I said, and laughed suddenly. He laughed, too.

"So your dead sister is too good for my dead sister?" he blurted. We both laughed again, and then quickly soured and turned back to our drinks. I was already feeling dazed.

"I didn't kill Natalie," he whispered.

"I know."

He picked up my hand, wrapped it around his.

"Her fingernails were painted. When they found her. Someone painted her fingernails."

"Maybe she did."

"Natalie hated that kind of thing. Barely even allowed a brush through her hair."

Silence for several minutes. Carole King had given way to Carly Simon. Feminine folksy voices in a bar for slaughterers.

"You're so beautiful," John said.

"So are you."

week 2, post trial

[mogger]

[ hey girl.... how's it.... going..... sweats ]

Camille.

[scrapdraught]

[is it camille....]

...Yeah?

week 2, sunday

[mogger]

[ hey girl... once robin is stable then she's gonna come looking for you!! and camille won't hear her coming ]

Hey.

[scrapdraught]

[She didn't hear her coming!]

—Jesus!

[Stares.]

...I guess I should have expected this.

WEEK 4: Tuesday

[scrapdraught]

[This is probably going to suck.

But it must be done. Wherever Yuffie is, Camille will eventually track her down. Animal Crossing sweatdrops are floating around her head and there is an almost teenage hunch to her shoulders.]

...Hi.

[mogger]

[ she's not hard to find because she's also looking for camille ]

Uh... Are you okay?

[ there is no animal crossing emote for yuffie's complicated feelings right now ]

WEEK 4: Friday

[scrapdraught]

[I'm sorry but she will not be chasing the bear

She returns to the Haunted House looking, for lack of a better word, haunted.]

Izutsumi and Kanda. [She purses her lips.] Rondo, too.

[mogger]

Back to three bodies.... [ she still has remnants of glitter in her hair..... and looks annoyed, but there's an angry emoji with a teardrop over her head ]

This sucks.

[ thank you yuffie ]

Week 5, late tuesday early wednesday! before the meeting

[mogger]

[ wherever camille is, yuffie is dropping in on her. is she tired of this yet? ]

Hey.

[scrapdraught]

[SURPRISE AND ALARM!]

Christ!

[Oh it's just Yuffie. Camille regroups, a flicker of embarrassment passing over the usual deluge of depresso vibes.]

Hey. What's going on?

WEEK 5: Thursday

[scrapdraught]

[OUR NINJA.

Okay she's immediately hunting for her, starting with the swamp and then around the town. Please be safe please be sane.]

Yuffie?

[mogger]

[ she's actually just in the haunted house, sitting on the formerly leeched couch. she has completely wrapped herself up in a blanket so there's barely anything visible. ]

[ lifts her head when she sees camille enter.... she waves a little, hands shaky mom spaghetti. ]

[ big sense of guilt and self-loathing here ]

Hey Camille.

WEEK 5 SUNDAY

[mogger]

[ yuffie's around the house or swamp, waiting for lavi to come out. but she looks up when she sees camille ]

Hey.

[scrapdraught]

Hey.

[Camille's getting antsy too, waiting around for the guy to show face. She comes up the steps of the house and waving.]

No sign of our guy yet, huh?

WEEK 6 THURSDAY

[mogger]

[ wheremst ]

WEEK 7: Wednesday

[scrapdraught]

[Examining the bees with teeth.]

Why is this here?

[mogger]

You could ask that about almost everything here.

[ why... ]

week 7, saturday

[mogger]

[ baas at camille! hello. she is a sheep. this doesn't have to last long ]

[scrapdraught]

[Yuffie....

She frowns, but approaches. I'm sorry but there is no respect for your humanity, you are getting your ears scritched.]

I'm guessing Essek did this.

[Surely no one would curse item on the last fucking day]