claire redfield (claireredfield) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-10-30 16:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, claire redfield, lara croft |
Who: Claire Redfield and Lara Croft
What: Drinking away the dreams.
When: Mid October
Where: A random bar
Rating/Warnings: Teenish/Cursing and talks of dream injuries
Status: Closed/Complete
As promised, Lara had found a pub with an excellent array of drinks, ranging from a micro-brew to top shelf scotch. It was tempting to get behind the bar - she hadn’t tended a bar since University, but sometimes she missed it. It had been fun, and calming, and sometimes she’d liked the part where she could throw an unruly man out onto the sidewalk. As a bonus, there was decent taxi service in the area.
But that felt like two lifetimes ago, as she secured a booth and started up a tab. Because they’d need a tab.
Claire's dreams were starting to get to her. It was awful seeing people you cared about die over and over again. Why she was having the same dreams on repeat was a mystery to her. She'd spent most of her time trying to distract herself. Work was a good distraction, and spending time with Dean? Well, that had helped her a hell of a lot. Tonight, however, she needed a girls night out and Lara seemed like a good person.
They'd only ever spoken over the network, but Claire could just tell it from that. It was nice to finally be able to a put a face with a name, and so she double checked her notebook to make sure she got the address to the bar right and the time. She arrived a few minutes early, and once she entered she scanned the crowd.
Her eyes landed on a somewhat familiar face and so she headed toward the booth. "Lara?" She asked, a smile on her face.
Lara looked up, then waved Claire over. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She had never been all that good with people. Too much time in museums and in the dirt, but there was a natural talent for people under the service, and Lara got along well enough with people that if she didn’t let herself get distracted by academics, she could actually make friends. “Have a seat, I’ve already got a tab started and I don’t have anything important to do tomorrow except nurse a bloody hang over.”
Claire was thankful that it was Lara that she spotted, and she slid into the booth opposite her. "Thanks," she gave a curt nod, "you too." She placed her purse down on the seat, pushing it all the way toward the wall. By the end of the night, she'd likely be leaning against it with her legs propped up against the seat. "Me either." That was one of the main reasons she'd agreed to this particular night, and if she really needed anything tomorrow she could always text Dean. Reaching up, Claire ran her fingers through her hair, "Let's get this fucking party started." She gave Lara a crooked smile, "Cause I'm ready to forget these shit dreams."
"What do you want to try first? I like the scotch here, but if you want to get completely pissed start with one of the rum drinks." Lara gestured in the general direction of the bartender. "They have great chicken fingers too, if you like that sort of thing. It might be a good idea to get some food in us, if we want to last a little longer." Going down in a few drinks would be embarrassing, to say the least.
Claire nodded, "Food does sound like a good idea." It'd been a long time since lunch, so she doubted she would last that long if she didn't get something in her. On the question of drinks, well, she wanted to get completely drunk, not blackout drunk, but drunk enough to forget for a little while. Scotch was a sipping drink, slow and easy, so rum sounded like the best bet. "A rum and coke would be good, I think to start off with. We'll go from there after one of those." That sounded like a plan to her, and once a waitress stopped by their booth, Claire placed her order. "So," she started once the woman left, "how have you been?"
She nodded her head, ordering a rum and coke as well. It was a good place to start and when Claire ordered it she suddenly wanted one. She ordered the chicken fingers and some fries (which felt wrong to say but when in rome). “Probably better than you’ve been, I think. Most of my dream trauma isn’t that recent anymore, and I’ve got plenty to keep myself occupied. But I know what it’s like to need to forget.” It was a miracle she hadn’t ended up an alcoholic.
Reaching up, Claire rubbed her fingers over one temple before dropping her hand back down into her lap and shaking her head. "I'm sorry that you do know what it's like." Claire replied with a small sympathetic smile. Distractions were good, Claire knew that much. "I wish that my short term memory loss would kick in every now and again in regards to these dreams. I mean, I'll forget random stuff throughout my day but you ask me any details about those dreams and I can give you the answer like its nothing."
“They’re so realistic. There are days where I’ll feel like I’m there instead of here, and it makes me rather paranoid. I have to remind myself there aren’t mad cultists trying to kill me around every corner.” Once, she’d nearly pulled her climbing axe on a bloke in a coffee shop. Not her proudest moment. “And that’s the damned thing about this - everyone can tell you they’re just dreams, but dreams don’t leave scars on your body and your mind, not like these do. They still happened, and if I have to live with the effects of them then I’m not going to listen to anyone who tells me otherwise.”
Claire could understand that very well. There were days that she woke up in a panic that she felt throughout the rest of her day. She watched people more closely, and people acting strangely made her paranoid. Still, Claire was aware that the likelihood of any zombie virus outbreak was impossible here. At least, she hoped that it was. Claire gave a nod, she had a few scrapes and bruises that had come from the dreams. She'd woken up with her mouth feeling as if it was stuffed full of sand, and her stomach growling from how hungry she'd been. "I don't understand how anyone could think that they're not real to be honest." She still wasn't sure where they were real at, or how but she knew it deep down that they were. Claire considered herself to be rational, and to her it was the only rational explanation.
"So far I've been lucky. I've only woken up with some scrapes and bruises, nothing bad. Hopefully that won't change, but you never know." Especially not with the world she was in the way that it was. The waitress came by to drop off their drinks, and Claire took a healthy sip of her own. "A cult huh? Why are they after you if you don't mind me asking?"
“They feel realer than real. And I’ve woken up bleeding enough times to accept that. Or with a gun under my pillow that hadn’t been there before.” Lara patted her lower left stomach. “Fell on rebar in my dreams. Ruined my bed that night, so I really hope you never have that kind of injury.” She reached for her drink to wet her throat. “They worshipped a Queen they believed could control the weather. The ocean around the island was constantly affected by storms and it wrecked our ship. They started killing our crew, and took my best friend for a ritual. Basically, they wanted to put the Queen’s soul into her so they could escape the island. I fought my way through them to get to her. And learned that there are more unexplained things in the world than I wanted to accept.”
Claire winced at the injuries that Lara had had to endure because of her dreams. "I hope not either, and here's to hoping you don't have anymore either." Claire replied with a small tip of her glass in Lara's direction. She sipped on her drink while Lara told her why the cult from her dreams was after her. Her brows rose slightly, and she shook her head. "Well, at this point? I believe just about anything could exist out there." That was from her own personal experience, and hearing others talk about their own experiences within their dreams. "Did you manage to save your friend?" She asked, eyes going to Lara's face.
Lara’s eyes lit up a bit. “Yes. I got to her in time, though just barely.” Her shoulders sagged. “I think part of the Queen got into her, anyway. I might have lost her, regardless.”
There might be ways to save her, but as of her most recent dreams Lara felt like she was withdrawing. Like the trauma was finally catching up to her and she didn’t know what was going to actually happen. Or if Sam was doomed.
Claire sipped on her drink while Lara spoke, and then she shook her head. That fucking sucked. "I hope that, for yours and her sake, that isn't the case. Or at least there's a way to reverse it." In Claire's world there was only one way to reverse the virus but they didn't have any antidote. So if someone was bitten that was it for them.
Claire thought back to all of the lives they'd lost to the fucking crows. Claire hadn't believed that there was cross-species contamination until they'd ran across a pack of zombie dogs. That had been scary. "At least I'll keep hoping for you." She raised her glass in Lara's direction just about the time their food was delivered to their table.
“There are too many unanswered questions in the world for me to believe there’s no hope. It’s just hard sometimes to remember that, especially when you’re repressing your own trauma.” Lara nodded, and lifted her glass as well. “Hope, though. That’s something to hold on to. I’ll hope for you, too.”