Entry tags:
inbox @ comesailaway
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
Found in the library, stuck inside a murder mystery.
Perfumed paper like the poem.
[Attached: This ominous exchange, in familiar handwriting(s)]
Perfumed paper like the poem.
[Attached: This ominous exchange, in familiar handwriting(s)]
I just got a package. It had a gun, ammunition and this thing.
[It's a photo of a scrap of paper, with a smiley face on it. It's the creepiest thing Natsuno had seen on this ship.]
Just to be clear, I never asked for a gun. Or a package.
But since it's here now, are you still offering practice?
[It's a photo of a scrap of paper, with a smiley face on it. It's the creepiest thing Natsuno had seen on this ship.]
Just to be clear, I never asked for a gun. Or a package.
But since it's here now, are you still offering practice?
hey clarke. can we have a chat? privately! in person pref. i have some info that i wanna share but i wanted to run it by u first (o´▽`o) idk where we should meet, but maybe the library or smth? up 2 u!!
Edited 2022-04-11 01:41 (UTC)
[ Mizuki perhaps stands outside Clarke's door for too long. It's late. It's very late, and she's probably asleep, but Mizuki has ultimately fucked over his sleep schedule to the point where he's not entirely sure time exists as a concept anymore. He would be surprised to learn if other people hadn't also fucked their sleep schedules over Jenny's...
...
How much time has passed now? He isn't sure, he doesn't want to check his phone. A rational part of him is telling him to just text Clarke, but another part is saying that he wouldn't even know what to say. Is she even in her room? Is him being here an issue? What if she yells at him? Does he deserve it? Was what he did wrong? It didn't feel wrong. In fact, protecting Clarke from Pirate Jenny is, perhaps, the only thing that actually felt right. It's the only constant foundation in his mind that made any sense in a inky black sea of decisions he couldn't make otherwise.
But maybe it's not okay. And maybe things made less sense than he thought they already did. Should he apologize? Should he stand up for the one thing he thought was okay? Should he just let Clarke yell at him? It's a mess.
...
He knocks. ]
...
How much time has passed now? He isn't sure, he doesn't want to check his phone. A rational part of him is telling him to just text Clarke, but another part is saying that he wouldn't even know what to say. Is she even in her room? Is him being here an issue? What if she yells at him? Does he deserve it? Was what he did wrong? It didn't feel wrong. In fact, protecting Clarke from Pirate Jenny is, perhaps, the only thing that actually felt right. It's the only constant foundation in his mind that made any sense in a inky black sea of decisions he couldn't make otherwise.
But maybe it's not okay. And maybe things made less sense than he thought they already did. Should he apologize? Should he stand up for the one thing he thought was okay? Should he just let Clarke yell at him? It's a mess.
...
He knocks. ]
Edited (typos and such don't look @ me) 2022-04-21 02:25 (UTC)
( clarke hasn't had anything resembling a normal sleep schedule in the last year and a half. the idea of restful sleep is... just that, an idea. there'd been too much to do in order to keep people safe at home, and too much to learn onboard the serena eterna with the same objective in mind. and at least in this specific moment, she's two days out from being bodily slammed into safety railings, walls, doors, and a stretch of ships deck. she hurts, has spent the better part of the last day taking tylenol and mapping the bruises blossoming along her torso, limbs, and face. she'd actually taken up residence on the bed in 108, for once finding the floor too unforgiving to lay upon.
there's so much to do, and not a winking interest in sleep as the various what if's and what now's plague her thoughts. but it also hasn't been very long since they'd all almost drowned (for some, drowned again), and everyone deserves a respite.
a knock eventually comes at her door, and sitting up is slow work but accomplished with very few groans. clarke doesn't know who to expect might be calling on her — and who knew, maybe they were there for her roommate and just out of luck that kara was absent at this particular moment — but figures anyone who knocks around two in the morning has a pressing need. it could be natsuno, it could be pal, it could be dean, it could be rita or flynn or yuri... anyone with important new information burning a hole on their tongue like money burnt through pockets.
except, despite all those options, it ends up being someone clarke hadn't figured she'd see in... a while. honestly, hadn't wanted to. the flurry of activity during hurricane jenny seems to have glossed over, they're back to smooth sailing on the serena eterna, and many unpleasant experiences have been firmly bottled up and neatly compartmentalized. but mizuki's on her doorstep, and it's impossible not to feel the familiar flame of anger curling inside her chest. )
What.
( there's no yelling yet. her tone lacks any obvious strains of poison. resentment, and that fury with which she'd screamed at him last time they'd been face to face are also absent. but that forced flat, calm indifference is still designed to sting. )
there's so much to do, and not a winking interest in sleep as the various what if's and what now's plague her thoughts. but it also hasn't been very long since they'd all almost drowned (for some, drowned again), and everyone deserves a respite.
a knock eventually comes at her door, and sitting up is slow work but accomplished with very few groans. clarke doesn't know who to expect might be calling on her — and who knew, maybe they were there for her roommate and just out of luck that kara was absent at this particular moment — but figures anyone who knocks around two in the morning has a pressing need. it could be natsuno, it could be pal, it could be dean, it could be rita or flynn or yuri... anyone with important new information burning a hole on their tongue like money burnt through pockets.
except, despite all those options, it ends up being someone clarke hadn't figured she'd see in... a while. honestly, hadn't wanted to. the flurry of activity during hurricane jenny seems to have glossed over, they're back to smooth sailing on the serena eterna, and many unpleasant experiences have been firmly bottled up and neatly compartmentalized. but mizuki's on her doorstep, and it's impossible not to feel the familiar flame of anger curling inside her chest. )
What.
( there's no yelling yet. her tone lacks any obvious strains of poison. resentment, and that fury with which she'd screamed at him last time they'd been face to face are also absent. but that forced flat, calm indifference is still designed to sting. )
[ Congratulations, Clarke, you're getting an unannounced jellyfish for the second time, only it's worse this time, because he's very excited to see you, and not dreading the conversation. There's a knock and also two texts that say, "Clarke! It's Mizuki!" and "Not the police, the I swear! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)". Maybe you can just leave him out there. Or maybe he'll just sit there and send more texts. Who knows? ]
Edited (i forgot to pick an icon I'm the worst) 2022-04-26 06:18 (UTC)
( strongly debating just laying on the floor and pretending no one's home, but. mizuki has thus far done an excellent job giving the impression he could be like a dog with a bone; persistent, friendly, gnawing. and she'd been the one to break the short-held silence thus far, prying into his and venti's dynamic to fuss about the difference between killing a god and a godly mortal.
besides, she's not mad anymore. not at all. it wouldn't serve any purpose to continue brooding over the events of two weeks ago — it was done with. clarke inevitably feels the same compulsion to move on as she does to open the door and greet her companion. )
Hi, Mizuki. What's wrong?
( because, yanno. something's always wrong —or about to be — here. )
besides, she's not mad anymore. not at all. it wouldn't serve any purpose to continue brooding over the events of two weeks ago — it was done with. clarke inevitably feels the same compulsion to move on as she does to open the door and greet her companion. )
Hi, Mizuki. What's wrong?
( because, yanno. something's always wrong —or about to be — here. )
a text literally during the horrible dinner, after Clarke's whole thing w the captain
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thinkfirst
2022-05-19 02:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Does your hand need medical attention? That looked strange.
I should be telling you not to be so reckless.
Well done.
I should be telling you not to be so reckless.
Well done.
( thank you, thank you, she'll be here all ... the rest of her life? )
Save the commendations until they're actually worth something.
I'm going somewhere. ( with natsuno, specifically. they're gonna go play video games until they decompress enough to cry about their lives. ) But if you want to text, we can text. And if you'd rather talk in person, I'll be back in my room by morning.
Save the commendations until they're actually worth something.
I'm going somewhere. ( with natsuno, specifically. they're gonna go play video games until they decompress enough to cry about their lives. ) But if you want to text, we can text. And if you'd rather talk in person, I'll be back in my room by morning.
do I need to... cw for wistful brain stuff here? idk she's mad and gross
skaikru
- 2022-05-20 09:02 (UTC) - ExpandThere's a dead girl sitting in the rafters.
In the struts above the outside deck, somewhere she can watch people coming and going. There's someone in particular she's been waiting for, and it's only a matter of time before she passes through. When Clarke walks this way, Darcy will flop down, dangling suspended from the struts by her legs like a trapezist.
"You managed to get a hit on the captain."
Technically Darcy did too, except that the stab didn't stick.
In the struts above the outside deck, somewhere she can watch people coming and going. There's someone in particular she's been waiting for, and it's only a matter of time before she passes through. When Clarke walks this way, Darcy will flop down, dangling suspended from the struts by her legs like a trapezist.
"You managed to get a hit on the captain."
Technically Darcy did too, except that the stab didn't stick.
The days following the victory party and Clarke's disappointing attempt on the Captain's life are... An odd sort of blur. Immediately after, she runs with Natsuno to the arcade in some desperate attempt to decompress (and maybe not cry over the futility of their existence on the ship), then spends long waking hours holed up with Venti trying to put her failures to good use and plot their next assault. Then, while Friday is still incapacitated and the likes of Ebalon and Beetlejuice are left to welcome to newcomers, her first friend from home arrives and breathes life back into her resolve. So, you know, you lose some you win some.
Either way, Clarke's not honestly slept since she woke up from death, and looks it. The sudden appearance of another girl hanging from the ceiling almost earns a yelp — swallowed back at the last, squeaky second — and these hands almost set to flying because what the actual hell?
After a second, she recognizes the girl who'd helped lower her into the water for her fruitless quest to reach the island again. Okay, maybe not an immediate threat, but still worth the reprimand — "Do you think it's a great idea to jump out and scare people here? When half of us literally just died?"
Jumpy. Not super angry, but fear folds over itself until it looks a lot like frustrated, muted rage. Belatedly, Darcy's opening words register, and Clarke has to take a calming breath before continuing.
"'Managed' is generous. It didn't do any good."
Either way, Clarke's not honestly slept since she woke up from death, and looks it. The sudden appearance of another girl hanging from the ceiling almost earns a yelp — swallowed back at the last, squeaky second — and these hands almost set to flying because what the actual hell?
After a second, she recognizes the girl who'd helped lower her into the water for her fruitless quest to reach the island again. Okay, maybe not an immediate threat, but still worth the reprimand — "Do you think it's a great idea to jump out and scare people here? When half of us literally just died?"
Jumpy. Not super angry, but fear folds over itself until it looks a lot like frustrated, muted rage. Belatedly, Darcy's opening words register, and Clarke has to take a calming breath before continuing.
"'Managed' is generous. It didn't do any good."
[ A present is left at Clarke's door. Mizuki even bothers to knock and camouflage himself afterwards to hide. Mostly to make sure she's actually in her cabin and no one goes taking it away from the door. But, you know, maybe also to see her reaction. ]
( she opens the door a short time later, looking like one absolutely expecting another person to be standing on the other side of the threshold and thrown for an appropriate loop to come face to face with thin air. it's not even the venti-style thin air with it's pomp and circumstance and feathers, and the ship is so alive with shadows since the captain showed his face that she can't even parse out the ominous sensation of someone being unseen and pressed against the far wall.
so there's confusion. several seconds of it, looking left and right down the hallway before stepping just outside the cabin and landing a foot directly on the squishmellow's face. that's a startle, and she's stumbling back with approximately 10% grace before realizing she'd just stepped on a —
...what was that?
is it a —
coming from a world where nothing was exactly nice, and anything new had been forged out of old cloth and older machinery parts, it's safe to say clarke's never had a new stuffed animal. maybe a raggedy doll made out of shirts when she was a child, but definitely nothing specific as a jellyfish. as she picks it up and weighs the stuffy in her hands, also absolutely nothing as soft and squishy.
she gives the toy a few experimental squeezes. they look more like gentle strangleholds, yes, but there's a flicker of delight when the faux jellyfish re-expands to its original shape each and every time. it's like a pillow but... cute. and vaguely reminiscent of someone, but she needs a little bit longer to parse out that specific mystery. right now all that registers is that this gift hadn't arrived in that horrific nautical packaging most others did, and thus feels safer to look at for an extended period of time. to hold, and squish to her chest just to see how it would feel.
one more scanning look down each end of the hallway, and then she's just. dawdling there. passing the stuffed animal between her hands as if weighing the pros and cons of taking it to bed with her. despite the perpetual shadow of confusion across her brow, her mouth slips into something akin to childlike endearment and clarke smiles for a moment before snorting at her own ridiculousness. it's a stuffed animal, it has to be harmless, right? it's coming back inside her cabin with her and the door is getting shut behind them both. )
so there's confusion. several seconds of it, looking left and right down the hallway before stepping just outside the cabin and landing a foot directly on the squishmellow's face. that's a startle, and she's stumbling back with approximately 10% grace before realizing she'd just stepped on a —
...what was that?
is it a —
coming from a world where nothing was exactly nice, and anything new had been forged out of old cloth and older machinery parts, it's safe to say clarke's never had a new stuffed animal. maybe a raggedy doll made out of shirts when she was a child, but definitely nothing specific as a jellyfish. as she picks it up and weighs the stuffy in her hands, also absolutely nothing as soft and squishy.
she gives the toy a few experimental squeezes. they look more like gentle strangleholds, yes, but there's a flicker of delight when the faux jellyfish re-expands to its original shape each and every time. it's like a pillow but... cute. and vaguely reminiscent of someone, but she needs a little bit longer to parse out that specific mystery. right now all that registers is that this gift hadn't arrived in that horrific nautical packaging most others did, and thus feels safer to look at for an extended period of time. to hold, and squish to her chest just to see how it would feel.
one more scanning look down each end of the hallway, and then she's just. dawdling there. passing the stuffed animal between her hands as if weighing the pros and cons of taking it to bed with her. despite the perpetual shadow of confusion across her brow, her mouth slips into something akin to childlike endearment and clarke smiles for a moment before snorting at her own ridiculousness. it's a stuffed animal, it has to be harmless, right? it's coming back inside her cabin with her and the door is getting shut behind them both. )
heyy clarke
um
i guess i havent rly talked abt it lol
but
were u aware that venti and i r dating?
um
i guess i havent rly talked abt it lol
but
were u aware that venti and i r dating?
( one night/early morning, fine for what it was, and then completely compartmentalized until one day she opens up a text from mizuki expecting some semblance of silliness or important ship-specific theories and is instead greeted by — )
...sorry, what?
...sorry, what?
[ Ignore that last batch of texts you got from a certain jellyfish and instead look forward to these new ones! Who cares if they got in a little fight~? Certainly not Mizuki. He cares a lot, actually, but he'll never admit it, even on his deathbed. ]
picnic is a go-go!
miss friday will be joining us!
she doesnt have a basket, but she does have boxes, so im gonna *make* a basket
its not gonna look good?
but itll serve our purposes ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
also, she said, and i quote, "i havent been instructed 2 put out every fire, specifically"
so it looks like were gonna be able to cook out!!!!!
\o/
i should have this basket done fairly quickly
do u wanna go now?
ill pick up some things from the buffet and we can be off!
picnic is a go-go!
miss friday will be joining us!
she doesnt have a basket, but she does have boxes, so im gonna *make* a basket
its not gonna look good?
but itll serve our purposes ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
also, she said, and i quote, "i havent been instructed 2 put out every fire, specifically"
so it looks like were gonna be able to cook out!!!!!
\o/
i should have this basket done fairly quickly
do u wanna go now?
ill pick up some things from the buffet and we can be off!
( again with the kneejerk sorry what? because — honestly? clarke saw this playing out differently, more in line with them eventually being forced to reunite for something productive, or by circumstance. and until that time, she'd been ready to give mizuki space (and thoroughly compartmentalize her own feelings on the matter, and weigh the pros and cons of ever talking to venti again, throw herself into more conspiracy work, etc).
but. nope. apparently their previous standing hang out was still on the table. mind = boggled. )
You still want to do that?
but. nope. apparently their previous standing hang out was still on the table. mind = boggled. )
You still want to do that?
Sent to me, Jade and Palamedes.
Read ASAP.
[This chain of texts is forwarded to Clarke the second he's done reading.]
Read ASAP.
[This chain of texts is forwarded to Clarke the second he's done reading.]
( well shit. holy shit, specifically. and she has so, so many questions but what immediately springs to mind — )
No matter if I like or understand the answer, he does answer my questions most of the time. I even asked, if when he says he "can't answer a question I'm afraid to speak into being", if it was can't or won't.
Maybe it's a disinterest in telling lies, maybe it's a compulsion not to.
Have you seen this Highlander movie?
No matter if I like or understand the answer, he does answer my questions most of the time. I even asked, if when he says he "can't answer a question I'm afraid to speak into being", if it was can't or won't.
Maybe it's a disinterest in telling lies, maybe it's a compulsion not to.
Have you seen this Highlander movie?
[ in his opinion, he kinda thinks he deserves a medal for not touching clarke's butt during camp. the forbidden fruit or even peach, in short shorts. whose genius idea was that? they don't need rocket launchers and flamethrowers at all if the captain could inflict booty shorts on people just like that. if he were a priest maybe he should be singing beata maria. maybe he should be crossing himself if he sees her but who the heck would gods pray to?... those heavenly powers above him, give him strength not to be a fuckboy or else karma have mizuki snap his neck.
anyway texting clarke is simpler so let's do that, after camp and he talks to mizuki a little and... what can he say? there are times he really just wants to flop off the ship. ]
Claaarke!
How did you like camp? How surprising it is that nothing catastrophically murderous occured even in the last days, what an unexpected mercy.
Did you keep those shorts?
[ he did not mean to send that he'd had a drink of water and guess what fucking awful truthiness is kicking in. ]
anyway texting clarke is simpler so let's do that, after camp and he talks to mizuki a little and... what can he say? there are times he really just wants to flop off the ship. ]
Claaarke!
How did you like camp? How surprising it is that nothing catastrophically murderous occured even in the last days, what an unexpected mercy.
Did you keep those shorts?
[ he did not mean to send that he'd had a drink of water and guess what fucking awful truthiness is kicking in. ]
( is it... telling? that no matter how left of field that query after her counselor shorts is for venti to actually let slip through the cracks, it doesn't raise a single red flag? just two skeptical eyebrows
Yeah, I did. But they'll be living at the bottom of my dresser for the rest of this tortured eternity.
And no, I hated it. Not being horrifically slaughtered by a serial killer was a nice change of pace, but that was still the most ridiculous timesink I've ever experienced.
Yeah, I did. But they'll be living at the bottom of my dresser for the rest of this tortured eternity.
And no, I hated it. Not being horrifically slaughtered by a serial killer was a nice change of pace, but that was still the most ridiculous timesink I've ever experienced.
[It's been a little while since their last talk. And...a lot came out. Like, a lot a lot. Lots of questions and thoughts swirling around in Diana's head.
Which means she can only imagine what it's been like for Clarke.
She debates the best way to approach this check-in, before deciding to stick with a classic.]
Hey.
Which means she can only imagine what it's been like for Clarke.
She debates the best way to approach this check-in, before deciding to stick with a classic.]
Hey.
( it's honestly been so long that clarke's wondered if diana finally came to her senses and decided to accept that their buddying up was just for show to assuage stede bonnet. she wouldn't blame the other woman, would probably pretty successfully swallow anything close to hurt feelings down into the pit of her stomach and just keep moving on. but of all the surprises this cursed cruise liner has in store for them, getting a text from diana is the least unpleasant one. )
Oh, hey. How are you doing?
You okay?
Oh, hey. How are you doing?
You okay?
Figures the next one will be bad again. This and camp, it's all been too light. Misguided sounds a lot like failed, I'd bet he's embarrassed and bitter.
So.
Are we digging something up, or are we taking Skulduggery's warning to heart?
( the question of if they're going or not isn't even worth asking. )
So.
Are we digging something up, or are we taking Skulduggery's warning to heart?
( the question of if they're going or not isn't even worth asking. )
clarke.
i think we should talk.
would u rather do this in person, or should i just text u 4 this?
i think we should talk.
would u rather do this in person, or should i just text u 4 this?
Can you come over?
I have something for you.
I have something for you.
backdated to after his talk with friday (idk time isn't real)
neverleave
2022-08-03 07:50 am (UTC)(link)
Friday doesn't leave the ship because a part of the captain can't afford losing her.
She doesn't know if he will survive her leaving, because she's keeping "himself" for him.
She refused to give further details. If think she could but didn't WANT to.
Said talking about it makes her feel "wrong" like she hasn't felt before.
When I tried pressuring her she begged that I stop and sounded like she's about to break.
Apparently she's "built to care" about what he needs.
She doesn't know if he will survive her leaving, because she's keeping "himself" for him.
She refused to give further details. If think she could but didn't WANT to.
Said talking about it makes her feel "wrong" like she hasn't felt before.
When I tried pressuring her she begged that I stop and sounded like she's about to break.
Apparently she's "built to care" about what he needs.
( woah.
woah damn.
if read receipts are on, there's a noticeable span of time between clarke reading this the first time and actually responding; that's thought provoking. )
...so when she calls herself his anchor, there's a double meaning there. Huh.
I don't get it.
woah damn.
if read receipts are on, there's a noticeable span of time between clarke reading this the first time and actually responding; that's thought provoking. )
...so when she calls herself his anchor, there's a double meaning there. Huh.
I don't get it.
[ baaackdated sometime in august but before the event... and after he sobers up from that party! ] Clarke
It seems the spell on the rain and water is gone.
How have you been?
[ she did get in a fight with ebalon, she did get into that fierce struggle with pratt... but this was told to him in prayer to barbatos, not necessarily to venti the bard as a friend. not that there's a huge divide or some line between his role and being human incognito, but still. if he had an idol here, people with faith could visit and be healed--he could recover her. but he doesn't, his power is limited. still, the concern is there. ]
It seems the spell on the rain and water is gone.
How have you been?
[ she did get in a fight with ebalon, she did get into that fierce struggle with pratt... but this was told to him in prayer to barbatos, not necessarily to venti the bard as a friend. not that there's a huge divide or some line between his role and being human incognito, but still. if he had an idol here, people with faith could visit and be healed--he could recover her. but he doesn't, his power is limited. still, the concern is there. ]
Edited 2022-08-12 22:12 (UTC)
Hi, Venti.
( it's the magic and power of pure teenage sass that the greeting in turn still manages to sound tired, sighful, and put-upon via text. not that she's displeased with the idea of chatting with him, there's just still that perpetual dark cloud hanging over every interaction and clarke's all consumed with thoughts of sigil magic and just how horribly the next excursion will get. )
I'm fine. Just peachy. Super great. Hydrated too, which is a nice change of pace after the last few weeks.
( and still heartbroken. )
What about you?
( it's the magic and power of pure teenage sass that the greeting in turn still manages to sound tired, sighful, and put-upon via text. not that she's displeased with the idea of chatting with him, there's just still that perpetual dark cloud hanging over every interaction and clarke's all consumed with thoughts of sigil magic and just how horribly the next excursion will get. )
I'm fine. Just peachy. Super great. Hydrated too, which is a nice change of pace after the last few weeks.
( and still heartbroken. )
What about you?
Edited 2022-08-13 06:34 (UTC)
hey clarke
r u still awake?
could u meet me in the infirmary?
i’d like 2 give u smth
be discreet abt it if u would
(„• ᴗ •„)
r u still awake?
could u meet me in the infirmary?
i’d like 2 give u smth
be discreet abt it if u would
(„• ᴗ •„)
Ominous.
( she doesn't sleep. and is already slipping on her boat shoes. )
Give me five minutes.
( when in reality she needs more like three before the elevator door down to deck zero is sliding open, and maybe thirty seconds past that to push through the doors of the infirmary. )
( she doesn't sleep. and is already slipping on her boat shoes. )
Give me five minutes.
( when in reality she needs more like three before the elevator door down to deck zero is sliding open, and maybe thirty seconds past that to push through the doors of the infirmary. )
[One little thing has continued to nag at Rita, since Natsuno's body was found, and persisted after he came back to life.
Clarke was right. Which is kind of annoying, actually, but Rita can admit it...reluctantly... There isn't even anything in particular that spurs this; Rita just wants to put it to rest, so she finally texts Clarke.]
Fine, I was wrong.
But it was still all coincidence.
[Err...this is fine, right? A totally graceful...apology-thing...]
Clarke was right. Which is kind of annoying, actually, but Rita can admit it...reluctantly... There isn't even anything in particular that spurs this; Rita just wants to put it to rest, so she finally texts Clarke.]
Fine, I was wrong.
But it was still all coincidence.
[Err...this is fine, right? A totally graceful...apology-thing...]
( receiving this text alone means a lot. or should. by now natsuno's back, has been slapped six ways from sunday and appropriately shamed; he and clarke have even made up to some degree, slipping right back into camaraderie that's only slightly tinged with awful memories now that they both know what it feels like to sit in a puddle of the other's blood.
but she's still struggling to let go of the whirlwind adrenaline of the search, the gutting grief of the discovery, and the anticlimactic end to her pursuit of bloody street justice. still angry at both parties involved, but cares enough about natsuno not to hold it against him too hard. jinx on the other hand...
anyway, safe to say her frustration and loathing meters are maxed out to the point rita doesn't even register on the former. it should be great to be told you were right and i was wrong, but mostly clarke's a horrible mix of too amped up and exhausted. )
Doesn't matter who was right and who was wrong. Just that he's still here.
Let's just call it a shitty weekend and a happy coincidence.
but she's still struggling to let go of the whirlwind adrenaline of the search, the gutting grief of the discovery, and the anticlimactic end to her pursuit of bloody street justice. still angry at both parties involved, but cares enough about natsuno not to hold it against him too hard. jinx on the other hand...
anyway, safe to say her frustration and loathing meters are maxed out to the point rita doesn't even register on the former. it should be great to be told you were right and i was wrong, but mostly clarke's a horrible mix of too amped up and exhausted. )
Doesn't matter who was right and who was wrong. Just that he's still here.
Let's just call it a shitty weekend and a happy coincidence.
clarke
sorry to bother you
do you remember seeing the colonel’s birthday in his notes last month?
it’s coming up soon.
i thought you’d like to know.
[ actually, she wants help throwing him a party—-
but awkward is her middle name and she doesn’t know all of jade’s friends just yet ]
sorry to bother you
do you remember seeing the colonel’s birthday in his notes last month?
it’s coming up soon.
i thought you’d like to know.
[ actually, she wants help throwing him a party—-
but awkward is her middle name and she doesn’t know all of jade’s friends just yet ]
You're not bothering me.
( that part's quick and efficiently texted back, but the rest of this she has to mull over. trace back steps, call up a mental image of the parts of jade curtiss' notebook that hadn't directly related to that mission and peel back the haze of intoxication. but, yeah, that does ring a faint bell...
— which is a whole other deal, because god, it's strange and utterly depressing to consider any of them have been here long enough to age. sure, she turned 19 last month. and it's fricking depressing. the following is carefully typed out: )
Yeah, I remember.
Do you guys have any specific birthday celebrations in Auldrant?
( that part's quick and efficiently texted back, but the rest of this she has to mull over. trace back steps, call up a mental image of the parts of jade curtiss' notebook that hadn't directly related to that mission and peel back the haze of intoxication. but, yeah, that does ring a faint bell...
— which is a whole other deal, because god, it's strange and utterly depressing to consider any of them have been here long enough to age. sure, she turned 19 last month. and it's fricking depressing. the following is carefully typed out: )
Yeah, I remember.
Do you guys have any specific birthday celebrations in Auldrant?
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