[a preemptive note: Clarisse has different starters in each top level (poochyena, houndour, shuppet) because I haven't decided on one yet lmao. if a prompt uses one starter but you want to use that prompt + a different starter of the three for whatever reason, feel free!]
a. new bark town [Clarisse is mad.
In her defense—a phrase which cannot usually be said of Clarisse, who, you must understand, is the absolute worst—she's had one hell of a day. She shouldn't be here. By any logic, by even any stretch of the imagination, she shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be anywhere, or anything. But she's here.
And she's mad about it.
It starts as some furious banging on the door she's just been pushed through, and then an angry shout or two demanding to be let back in or for an explanation. Before anyone has the chance to intervene, Clarisse takes a few steps back, and while one might hope this means she's backing off, instead she takes the bag she'd been given on the way out and throws it as hard as she can against the door.
The contents scatter: the clothespins tumble about, the food spills into the dirt, the bottle of shampoo explodes and gets all over everything. The Poochyena that had been pacing uncertainly at Clarisse's heels startles, but doesn't back too far away from her. Clarisse doesn't notice. Breathing hard, she glances this way and that like a wild animal searching for danger. Then, she looks up.
It had been snowing before. It was cold. It's not, here. Someone else might call it pleasant. There's music coming from somewhere, light and bouncy. She doesn't relax so much as just slump, like she's given up, tilting her head back and looking up at the clear sky.]
What is this...?
b. some route or another [Some time has passed—only some; enough to acclimate, just a little, but not enough to settle, even if Clarisse were capable of such a thing. She still wears the armor pieces she arrived in over her clothes; a chest plate strapped pointlessly over a t-shirt, arm guards over hands that don't have a bow to wield. If nothing else, she's gotten the hang of the whole Pokémon trainer thing.
Sort of. Almost.
When her Houndour comes bounding back to her after its wild opponent is left slightly singed and very fainted, she frowns (she's always frowning, but there's a deliberateness to it now) and folds her arms.]
No, go back.
[Not understanding, the Houndour, tongue lolling out like a loon, paws at her feet excitedly.]
No, this is the part where you kill it. [She takes a step back, and the Houndour jumps up on its hind legs to put its front paws against her knee. Clarisse scoffs and leans back, but doesn't push it away.] You're a hunter, and that's prey! You're not done yet, go rip its throat out! What's the matter with you?
[The thing that's the matter with the Houndour, apparently, is that instead of balking at any of its trainers commands it just seems happy to be here. The same cannot be said for Clarisse.]
c. dark cave [The thing to understand about Clarisse—well, there's a whole lot that got us to the, uh, situation she's in now, just as far as who she is as a person, but the thing that establishes this scenario as well as much else about Clarisse's unfortunate personality is that she was raised in a pitch black church basement.
If you've been traveling with Clarisse, that's regrettable for you for a number of reasons, but the latest is that she's just forging on ahead through the cave with no light source, and no particular way to identify where she's gone (there are hardly even footsteps to follow; how does she walk so quietly all the time) except, perhaps, for the glow of her Shuppet's eyes when it turns to watch you (why does it do that, what does it want) or the occasional annoyed call over her shoulder of,] Keep up!
d. violet city [To Clarisse's standards, this place is almost unbearably large—even Cherrygrove was almost too much for her, and this place is larger and busier yet. Goldenrod City may kill her instantly if she ever gets there.
For now, she's at the edge of the city, away from as much of the hubbub as she can manage. She leans against the edge of a fence, only half-sitting, looking up skywards, where the shapes of only semi-distant birds cut across the sky for the aerial show. There's a little wonder in her eyes, which can't quite decide which Pokémon to follow, and so they dart between the moving shapes. If one didn't know her better, they might even say she seems nearly relaxed.
Not that relaxed, though, because as soon as someone even begins to approach—she's got a good sense of people's presences—she scrambles to her feet, glaring at the intruder.]
What? [Why is she so mad?? Clarisse it's FINE you're ALLOWED TO WATCH AERIAL SHOWS] If I had my bow I could take those stupid things out of the sky like it's nothing. I'm just watching to keep my senses sharp! That's it!
[CLARISSE]
e. wildcard [follow your heart, gimme a shout at nidorina if you want!!]
Clarisse | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
a. new bark town
[Clarisse is mad.
In her defense—a phrase which cannot usually be said of Clarisse, who, you must understand, is the absolute worst—she's had one hell of a day. She shouldn't be here. By any logic, by even any stretch of the imagination, she shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be anywhere, or anything. But she's here.
And she's mad about it.
It starts as some furious banging on the door she's just been pushed through, and then an angry shout or two demanding to be let back in or for an explanation. Before anyone has the chance to intervene, Clarisse takes a few steps back, and while one might hope this means she's backing off, instead she takes the bag she'd been given on the way out and throws it as hard as she can against the door.
The contents scatter: the clothespins tumble about, the food spills into the dirt, the bottle of shampoo explodes and gets all over everything. The Poochyena that had been pacing uncertainly at Clarisse's heels startles, but doesn't back too far away from her. Clarisse doesn't notice. Breathing hard, she glances this way and that like a wild animal searching for danger. Then, she looks up.
It had been snowing before. It was cold. It's not, here. Someone else might call it pleasant. There's music coming from somewhere, light and bouncy. She doesn't relax so much as just slump, like she's given up, tilting her head back and looking up at the clear sky.]
What is this...?
b. some route or another
[Some time has passed—only some; enough to acclimate, just a little, but not enough to settle, even if Clarisse were capable of such a thing. She still wears the armor pieces she arrived in over her clothes; a chest plate strapped pointlessly over a t-shirt, arm guards over hands that don't have a bow to wield. If nothing else, she's gotten the hang of the whole Pokémon trainer thing.
Sort of. Almost.
When her Houndour comes bounding back to her after its wild opponent is left slightly singed and very fainted, she frowns (she's always frowning, but there's a deliberateness to it now) and folds her arms.]
No, go back.
[Not understanding, the Houndour, tongue lolling out like a loon, paws at her feet excitedly.]
No, this is the part where you kill it. [She takes a step back, and the Houndour jumps up on its hind legs to put its front paws against her knee. Clarisse scoffs and leans back, but doesn't push it away.] You're a hunter, and that's prey! You're not done yet, go rip its throat out! What's the matter with you?
[The thing that's the matter with the Houndour, apparently, is that instead of balking at any of its trainers commands it just seems happy to be here. The same cannot be said for Clarisse.]
c. dark cave
[The thing to understand about Clarisse—well, there's a whole lot that got us to the, uh, situation she's in now, just as far as who she is as a person, but the thing that establishes this scenario as well as much else about Clarisse's unfortunate personality is that she was raised in a pitch black church basement.
If you've been traveling with Clarisse, that's regrettable for you for a number of reasons, but the latest is that she's just forging on ahead through the cave with no light source, and no particular way to identify where she's gone (there are hardly even footsteps to follow; how does she walk so quietly all the time) except, perhaps, for the glow of her Shuppet's eyes when it turns to watch you (why does it do that, what does it want) or the occasional annoyed call over her shoulder of,] Keep up!
d. violet city
[To Clarisse's standards, this place is almost unbearably large—even Cherrygrove was almost too much for her, and this place is larger and busier yet. Goldenrod City may kill her instantly if she ever gets there.
For now, she's at the edge of the city, away from as much of the hubbub as she can manage. She leans against the edge of a fence, only half-sitting, looking up skywards, where the shapes of only semi-distant birds cut across the sky for the aerial show. There's a little wonder in her eyes, which can't quite decide which Pokémon to follow, and so they dart between the moving shapes. If one didn't know her better, they might even say she seems nearly relaxed.
Not that relaxed, though, because as soon as someone even begins to approach—she's got a good sense of people's presences—she scrambles to her feet, glaring at the intruder.]
What? [Why is she so mad?? Clarisse it's FINE you're ALLOWED TO WATCH AERIAL SHOWS] If I had my bow I could take those stupid things out of the sky like it's nothing. I'm just watching to keep my senses sharp! That's it!
[CLARISSE]
e. wildcard
[follow your heart, gimme a shout at