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inbox @ comesailaway
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
[Pratt isn't at the party, but he knows things are going down. He's been waiting for Pickles to come try and murder him and steal his body and that hasn't happened, but now there's explosions and well... maybe he should come to him. Too bad Pratt has no idea what's going on, that Pickles is already dead, and that Clarke might not even be Clarke right now.]
i might do something really stupid
itll help
mostly
probably
but ill need you to kill me after
or trap me somewhere for like 10 hours
this isn't gonna be like last time where i was really stupid
itll be so much worse but
i think i might have to
sorry if i do anything too horrible
i might do something really stupid
itll help
mostly
probably
but ill need you to kill me after
or trap me somewhere for like 10 hours
this isn't gonna be like last time where i was really stupid
itll be so much worse but
i think i might have to
sorry if i do anything too horrible
[5 minutes later]
if i eat anyone dont tell sharky
or ava
or klaus
actually dont tell anyone
if i eat anyone dont tell sharky
or ava
or klaus
actually dont tell anyone
[It's late in the evening, probably, and Rita Mordio is drunk for the first time in her life, having been lured by that most terrible of traps: extremely sweet drinks.]
hey
so about moving forward and all,, I know but
i still want to make out with youu
im just not sure yet how to makeit hapepn
[She squints. Yeah, that looks about right--she'll make it up to Clarke. Somehow. It's hard to come up with something right now. But for the time being, it's important Clarke knows her intentions! Time to hit send. And then see if she can't stop everything from spinning.]
hey
so about moving forward and all,, I know but
i still want to make out with youu
im just not sure yet how to makeit hapepn
[She squints. Yeah, that looks about right--she'll make it up to Clarke. Somehow. It's hard to come up with something right now. But for the time being, it's important Clarke knows her intentions! Time to hit send. And then see if she can't stop everything from spinning.]
( unfortunately, now just both their heads are reeling, only clarke's not having nearly as much fun. her end is more like a mini hurricane of an existential crisis because what did she just read? and why is this somehow so much worse than darcy truth-rained into admitting to a mild crush? and how is she supposed to respond?
the last part comes easily enough at least, because: what. )
Sorry, say that again. You want to what?
the last part comes easily enough at least, because: what. )
Sorry, say that again. You want to what?
on my first day
why didn't you tell me the phones can do little pictures
why didn't you tell me the phones can do little pictures
[He was playing a silly question game with Pollux, Castor showed up with wine and Natsuno ended up having some because not like it can affect him anyway, except the wine was magical and now he's drunk.]
i named the lion after you
he saved me from the lava
and the monkey
i named the lion after you
he saved me from the lava
and the monkey
[Well, it's now officially the morning after Clarke Griffin's impromptu weed adventure the evening prior. After a series of exchanged texts truly running the gamut of topics both ridiculous and disconcertingly sincere, Jade had at least managed to eventually usher her to sleeping, and there's no response to her parting dream well wishes.
.....Until a bit past nine the next day, anyway. Plenty of time for Clarke to awaken and get oriented to the best of her ability, ideally. At which point, she'd find a response from a particular address finally cropping up:]
Good morning to you! Whenever you might eventually wake 🌞😊 Still alive and functional over there, I hope? No late-onset poisoning or bizarre after-effects?
[You know, the kinds of things anyone would ask, when checking in on the wellbeing of a friend!]
.....Until a bit past nine the next day, anyway. Plenty of time for Clarke to awaken and get oriented to the best of her ability, ideally. At which point, she'd find a response from a particular address finally cropping up:]
Good morning to you! Whenever you might eventually wake 🌞😊 Still alive and functional over there, I hope? No late-onset poisoning or bizarre after-effects?
[You know, the kinds of things anyone would ask, when checking in on the wellbeing of a friend!]
( she wakes up the morning of the 8th-ish feeling... weird. not a hangover like the one that follows drinking too much alcohol, and not the grogginess that one experiences post-finally sleeping after so much time spent awake. it's honestly a pretty comfortable feeling, even if her eyes itch and her throat is sore from smoke. clarke just lays comfortably in her couch bed for a few minutes, blinking at the ceiling and for once not looking for monsters in the early morning shadows of her room.
then memory serves, and humiliation runs rampant. first and foremost in her mind is hitting aggressively on palamedes sextus, and honestly that takes up most of the space she has for thought. natsuno, rita, sharky, pratt... those conversations had been a little wild too but she'd not gone out of her way to try to sleep with them. faintly aware she'd texted jade curtiss as well, but remembers sums that hazed experience up as silly questions and... a threat to destroy him in a snowball fight? what.
she's up and showered and dressed by 9am, and debating how best to apologize to pal when her phone buzzes. with healthy trepidation, it's picked up and the shiptalk app opened. while the new message isn't anything too harsh, clarke scrolls up and —
was one evening of feeling nice and calm and happy really worth the aftermath? gods help her. )
I'm alive.
And I'm sorry.
then memory serves, and humiliation runs rampant. first and foremost in her mind is hitting aggressively on palamedes sextus, and honestly that takes up most of the space she has for thought. natsuno, rita, sharky, pratt... those conversations had been a little wild too but she'd not gone out of her way to try to sleep with them. faintly aware she'd texted jade curtiss as well, but remembers sums that hazed experience up as silly questions and... a threat to destroy him in a snowball fight? what.
she's up and showered and dressed by 9am, and debating how best to apologize to pal when her phone buzzes. with healthy trepidation, it's picked up and the shiptalk app opened. while the new message isn't anything too harsh, clarke scrolls up and —
was one evening of feeling nice and calm and happy really worth the aftermath? gods help her. )
I'm alive.
And I'm sorry.
[ It is Clarke's lucky day! ]
I've come across a short sword. I think it's magic because it caught fire. I'm not sure how it did that so.
Are you interested?
This is Yato.
I've come across a short sword. I think it's magic because it caught fire. I'm not sure how it did that so.
Are you interested?
This is Yato.
( yato?
hmmm, yato yato yato... the name rings less of a bell than a conversation about a magic sword. and on some level this feels intensely weird and maybe like a trap? but she's been in the bowels of a monstrous moon magician's room stealing thing lately, so what's a little more recklessness? )
I don't think I was serious about that.
But also. Yes. Please.
What do you mean you don't know how it caught fire?
hmmm, yato yato yato... the name rings less of a bell than a conversation about a magic sword. and on some level this feels intensely weird and maybe like a trap? but she's been in the bowels of a monstrous moon magician's room stealing thing lately, so what's a little more recklessness? )
I don't think I was serious about that.
But also. Yes. Please.
What do you mean you don't know how it caught fire?
[Who even knows why Clarke is in 109 this time? Whether they exchange information about new passengers, murderboard, conspire or just shoot the breeze - she's here now. A familiar, grounding presence.
At some point, Natsuno draws a small box out of a bigger box and rests it on his knees. His gaze slips from Clarke to the lid.]
I got photos of my parents.
[He doesn't sound happy.]
At some point, Natsuno draws a small box out of a bigger box and rests it on his knees. His gaze slips from Clarke to the lid.]
I got photos of my parents.
[He doesn't sound happy.]
( does she even need much of a reason anymore? the thing about existing in one another's orbit for so long is it begins to make private spaces feel like communal ground. and that's a good thing.
...alright, she'd come to talk about venti's disappearance and the arrival of a new proclaimed god of fortune. but that conversation had been tense and terse; a quiet mourning over the first, skepticism over the second. both dealt with in short order, then they just talk or lapse into that comfortable sort of silence between friends. until natsuno drags a box into his lap and talks. )
Oh?
( because she'd kind of like to see what they look like.
then she remembers, and it hits like a weight. ) ...oh.
( ... )
You've already opened it?
...alright, she'd come to talk about venti's disappearance and the arrival of a new proclaimed god of fortune. but that conversation had been tense and terse; a quiet mourning over the first, skepticism over the second. both dealt with in short order, then they just talk or lapse into that comfortable sort of silence between friends. until natsuno drags a box into his lap and talks. )
Oh?
( because she'd kind of like to see what they look like.
then she remembers, and it hits like a weight. ) ...oh.
( ... )
You've already opened it?
[ at some point on the evening of the 24th, if clarke returns to her room she will find a macramé bag hanging on the door handle. it's pretty well-made which is might come as a surprise considering who made it. it's crafted from some of tommy bahama's darker fabrics, with pilfered shower curtain rings for the base of the handle.
attached is a note, folded into something like a makeshift envelope:
Griffin -
Thanks for sewing me up that time. I don't know if Christmas is still a thing in the future but
Merry Christmas
- Steve
inside this little envelope note is a joint. some of the last of the weed party reserves. ]
attached is a note, folded into something like a makeshift envelope:
Griffin -
Thanks for sewing me up that time. I don't know if Christmas is still a thing in the future but
Merry Christmas
- Steve
inside this little envelope note is a joint. some of the last of the weed party reserves. ]
I don't know if you're the right person to send this to, but I know which side you're on.
Ava Starr is likely to bring anything we plan directly to the attention of the Captain. She's also capable of hiding in plain sight. Where I'm from, there was a war - before my time - where the enemy had the advantage in control and surveillance.
Meetings like today are essential. They're important for the undecided, for new people, for making it clear what we stand for. Today was a success, and I'm grateful that I was involved. Any planning of action, though? It needs to be discussed in very small groups, in secret, only those whose loyalty you can be sure of. Preferably multiple groups, unaware of the plans of the others until it's absolutely necessary to co-ordinate.
You might know all of this already, but I couldn't say it earlier, so I had to be sure.
Ava Starr is likely to bring anything we plan directly to the attention of the Captain. She's also capable of hiding in plain sight. Where I'm from, there was a war - before my time - where the enemy had the advantage in control and surveillance.
Meetings like today are essential. They're important for the undecided, for new people, for making it clear what we stand for. Today was a success, and I'm grateful that I was involved. Any planning of action, though? It needs to be discussed in very small groups, in secret, only those whose loyalty you can be sure of. Preferably multiple groups, unaware of the plans of the others until it's absolutely necessary to co-ordinate.
You might know all of this already, but I couldn't say it earlier, so I had to be sure.
( clarke had been mulling over similar ideas, uneasy feelings extended towards ava and valdis both, but it's a little nice to see her own thoughts reflected back at her through text. and very concisely put. )
No, I agree.
I didn't expect this to be any sort of actual planning committee, I just wanted to look in peoples eyes and see where they stood. ( and how far they'd go. )
Interruptions aside, I think it was a good meeting for that. But once we do have a more decided course of action, that'd need to be kept quiet. I don't like the need to know bases, but. It can work. It's probably our best bet. We could still meet to discuss as a whole, but I know who I trust. ( trust, because loyal doesn't sound right, even as natsuno yuuki, rita mordio, and steve harrington had jumped to angry offense at a perceived slight against her.
a pause, then a secondary message: )
I'm glad you were involved today, too. I know the first time we met was on bad footing but I do appreciate your contributions, and in general just the way you approach things.
No, I agree.
I didn't expect this to be any sort of actual planning committee, I just wanted to look in peoples eyes and see where they stood. ( and how far they'd go. )
Interruptions aside, I think it was a good meeting for that. But once we do have a more decided course of action, that'd need to be kept quiet. I don't like the need to know bases, but. It can work. It's probably our best bet. We could still meet to discuss as a whole, but I know who I trust. ( trust, because loyal doesn't sound right, even as natsuno yuuki, rita mordio, and steve harrington had jumped to angry offense at a perceived slight against her.
a pause, then a secondary message: )
I'm glad you were involved today, too. I know the first time we met was on bad footing but I do appreciate your contributions, and in general just the way you approach things.
hey griffin
we have to figure out a better way to do this. too many crashers.
it's only going to get worse from here.
we have to figure out a better way to do this. too many crashers.
it's only going to get worse from here.
You're right.
( it's pretty annoying to be repeatedly harped on for not having a plan, in the middle of the first planning session, and thus distracted by having to defend their opinions. )
So what do you suggest? I know who I trust, with my dissent and my life. And I know who could ward rooms against unwelcome gatecrashers in the future.
I can try to figure out how to scramble any notes we take, so only one or two people can read them.
And I want Eddie to try talking to the Captain.
( it's pretty annoying to be repeatedly harped on for not having a plan, in the middle of the first planning session, and thus distracted by having to defend their opinions. )
So what do you suggest? I know who I trust, with my dissent and my life. And I know who could ward rooms against unwelcome gatecrashers in the future.
I can try to figure out how to scramble any notes we take, so only one or two people can read them.
And I want Eddie to try talking to the Captain.
[ at some point during the evening of december 24th, eddie slips a piece of paper under clarke's door. unfolded, it depicts a watercolor painting of clarke wearing leather armor not unlike the sort that would be seen in fantasy films throughout the ages along with a cloak, hood up, and she's holding a bow with a nocked arrow. the caption reads:
level 14 halfling ranger.
on the back, there is a note written in eddie's messy scrawl: ]
clarke,
thanks for patching me back together, doc. almost made you a cleric, but high level rangers get some druid spells so it seemed kind of fitting for someone as deadly as you.
merry christmas,
-em
level 14 halfling ranger.
on the back, there is a note written in eddie's messy scrawl: ]
clarke,
thanks for patching me back together, doc. almost made you a cleric, but high level rangers get some druid spells so it seemed kind of fitting for someone as deadly as you.
merry christmas,
-em
( the leather armor is not unlike what grounders wore, and the sky people eventually adopted in times of war. it's familiar, and jarring to see. but clarke has an artists eye and stares for a long time at the entirety of the picture.
did you know the last time she was sketched was on a wanted poster? this painting is a lot kinder, and will be living in the drawer of her serena eterna cabinroom desk for the rest of their lives on board the ship.
she doesn't get what the level means. or what a halfling is. but the sentiment hits home, and the next day (emotions much more solidly under wraps) texts him: )
So should I learn how to shoot a bow?
did you know the last time she was sketched was on a wanted poster? this painting is a lot kinder, and will be living in the drawer of her serena eterna cabinroom desk for the rest of their lives on board the ship.
she doesn't get what the level means. or what a halfling is. but the sentiment hits home, and the next day (emotions much more solidly under wraps) texts him: )
So should I learn how to shoot a bow?
[ Before Clarke wakes up, Pratt & Sharky's gift basket delivery service has come and gone, leaving a festive parcel outside her door. There's a tasteful notecard reading GET ALIVE SOON BUDDY.
Inside is various candies, this shirt, an extremely tasteful sign that makes no sense, and various other odds and ends. Go wild picking things out.
Welcome back to the Serena Eterna.]
Inside is various candies, this shirt, an extremely tasteful sign that makes no sense, and various other odds and ends. Go wild picking things out.
Welcome back to the Serena Eterna.]
( you best believe this stuffed pig and this art book are included in the care package.
you also best believe that it's going to sit in the corner of her room for at least a week before it's unpacked, with only mild vacation prejudice. ♥ )
you also best believe that it's going to sit in the corner of her room for at least a week before it's unpacked, with only mild vacation prejudice. ♥ )
[The thing about venturing into "friend" territory and sometimes chatting via text...is that Clarke receives this no-context message out of the blue:]
Remind me never to use the phrase 'getting off on' or anything similar ever again.
[Oh, and a second message that is actually totally unrelated!]
Jenny was totally useless, by the way.
Remind me never to use the phrase 'getting off on' or anything similar ever again.
[Oh, and a second message that is actually totally unrelated!]
Jenny was totally useless, by the way.
Edited 2023-01-19 19:23 (UTC)
[It's after Rita finds Natsuno glowing like an active volcano and hearing the story that, sometime later, she's pounding on the door to 109.]
If you're in there, we need to talk, so open up! [There's no hiding the angry edge in her voice, an indication this is definitely going to invole more yelling than talking.]
If you're in there, we need to talk, so open up! [There's no hiding the angry edge in her voice, an indication this is definitely going to invole more yelling than talking.]
( the storm is expected but unwelcome.
inside 108, all the lights are off. there's still light flooding in from the porthole window, casting an uncomfortably yellow streak of sunlight across the interior and currently bathing the coffee table in warmth. and the lacquered table top is absolutely littered with torn scraps of notebook paper and various stolen medical equipment; there's scalpels, old timey amber bottles of analgesics, transcriptions of sigils she'd stolen from ebalon's room, even jade's textbook. there's the two other vials she'd stolen from the moon master, skulduggery's rib bone, and the yet unused panacea bottle. there's so many scratched through lists, from where clarke had poured everything she knew about burns, and radiation, and shiki regeneration, and moon and flesh magic onto paper — only to draw lines through non applicable information and doomed-to-fail ideas.
she herself is seated on the floor between couch and table, wallowing in uncertainty, not sure how to fix this or where to even begin in trying. her eyes are puffy and raw from crying on and off, and sleeves are pulled down over her hands because every time she looks at her palms, all she can see is sheets of natsuno's bloody, glowing skin coming away beneath her fingertips.
then — a knock. a hammering, more accurately, and clarke winces when she hears who's at her door. )
Go away, Rita. ( comes the response, muffled through the door but still intelligible. ) Not right now.
inside 108, all the lights are off. there's still light flooding in from the porthole window, casting an uncomfortably yellow streak of sunlight across the interior and currently bathing the coffee table in warmth. and the lacquered table top is absolutely littered with torn scraps of notebook paper and various stolen medical equipment; there's scalpels, old timey amber bottles of analgesics, transcriptions of sigils she'd stolen from ebalon's room, even jade's textbook. there's the two other vials she'd stolen from the moon master, skulduggery's rib bone, and the yet unused panacea bottle. there's so many scratched through lists, from where clarke had poured everything she knew about burns, and radiation, and shiki regeneration, and moon and flesh magic onto paper — only to draw lines through non applicable information and doomed-to-fail ideas.
she herself is seated on the floor between couch and table, wallowing in uncertainty, not sure how to fix this or where to even begin in trying. her eyes are puffy and raw from crying on and off, and sleeves are pulled down over her hands because every time she looks at her palms, all she can see is sheets of natsuno's bloody, glowing skin coming away beneath her fingertips.
then — a knock. a hammering, more accurately, and clarke winces when she hears who's at her door. )
Go away, Rita. ( comes the response, muffled through the door but still intelligible. ) Not right now.
😔🏴☠️🫗
hot pirate dude disappeard
pratts takin it rl bad got hammerd
just FYI so if u see him lookin down mb give him a 👍🫂 or smthin
also: got the skinny on the next excurson bro! it isnt disneyland
friday says thats like copryright infringment
but its gonna b a carnival!
thats almost the same thing
[no, it's really not.]
hot pirate dude disappeard
pratts takin it rl bad got hammerd
just FYI so if u see him lookin down mb give him a 👍🫂 or smthin
also: got the skinny on the next excurson bro! it isnt disneyland
friday says thats like copryright infringment
but its gonna b a carnival!
thats almost the same thing
[no, it's really not.]
( the absolute PANIC when she read "hot pirate disappeared", missed the dude and immediately started mourning pirate jenny. but then! inner peace. )
I'm sorry he's taking it so hard. I'll keep an eye out for him. ( not entirely sold on the hugging idea, though, despite constantly needing approx 10 herself. )
A carnival, huh? So like a festival with big mechanical rides. That sounds... Cool, great, I'm sure absolutely nothing will go wrong there. ( /s )
I'm sorry he's taking it so hard. I'll keep an eye out for him. ( not entirely sold on the hugging idea, though, despite constantly needing approx 10 herself. )
A carnival, huh? So like a festival with big mechanical rides. That sounds... Cool, great, I'm sure absolutely nothing will go wrong there. ( /s )
Can you come to 109?
I need your advice.
[Whenever Clarke arrives, she'll find Natsuno sitting on his bed, sorting through a box. Some items are laid out on the mattress: a pressed flower, red-and-black friendship bracelet, a bundle of withered white chrysanthemums and a photo of his parents.
He's wondering about certain things, and about people he lost.]
I need your advice.
[Whenever Clarke arrives, she'll find Natsuno sitting on his bed, sorting through a box. Some items are laid out on the mattress: a pressed flower, red-and-black friendship bracelet, a bundle of withered white chrysanthemums and a photo of his parents.
He's wondering about certain things, and about people he lost.]
( it's not like he has to word it so politely, or even really ask. "come to 109" would have been sufficient, and "i need you" would have cut the two minute time span between that text ding and the arrival knock on his door in half. but anyways, she's here. stops in the middle of the room to take in the collage display of memorabilia laid out on the bedspread, then creeps closer to perch on the foot of the mattress.
the friendship bracelet she can pretty immediately place. mizuki had shoved a dozen of the same, rudimentarily braided cords in her hand once upon a time. they live in a desk drawer now.
the air already feels heavy around the conversation. )
...what's on your mind?
the friendship bracelet she can pretty immediately place. mizuki had shoved a dozen of the same, rudimentarily braided cords in her hand once upon a time. they live in a desk drawer now.
the air already feels heavy around the conversation. )
...what's on your mind?
Ava found Ebalon's corpse and used it to summon a spirit in one of the bars.
The spirit ate the corpse, said "play" and disappeared.
I don't know what it means but it can't be good.
Be prepared for chaos.
The spirit ate the corpse, said "play" and disappeared.
I don't know what it means but it can't be good.
Be prepared for chaos.
( hey, what the absolute fuck.
basically this text was a rollercoaster to read, even removed from the carnival grounds. but it doesn't take clarke all that long to connect some dots, and )
Always prepared for chaos.
I think Pratt helped her. And it's not the first revenant he's summoned that wanted to go after a body.
basically this text was a rollercoaster to read, even removed from the carnival grounds. but it doesn't take clarke all that long to connect some dots, and )
Always prepared for chaos.
I think Pratt helped her. And it's not the first revenant he's summoned that wanted to go after a body.
( so, she has a lot of questions right now. but also zero hesitation on jumping headfirst into whatever vance has got going on, so the questions are narrowed down to the most pressing. )
Alright.
What kind of monster? And do we already know how to kill it, or do we need to troubleshoot?
Alright.
What kind of monster? And do we already know how to kill it, or do we need to troubleshoot?
I came across some information that I felt you should know.
[She leaves the kitchen, exits the dining room, never quite running but her pace quickening to a speedy power-walk as she just thinks of nothing but getting somewhere where nobody can see her--namely, her currently un-shared cabin.
She hates this, she hates this, she hates this she hates Darcy-
She strides past door 108...and suddenly halts. Backs up, until she's even with the door. Glances across the hall to 109. Someone...should probably look at this, even as the petulant and wounded pride side of her would rather hide it from everyone. Jade--skilled and reliable, but--no, for reasons she doesn't want to examine, he's one person she really doesn't want to face right now. Natsuno...tempting, but he shares a room with Jade...
...Meanwhile, Clarke was willing to pretend her cry-session before didn't happen...
It's a jumbled thought process that really only takes a second, at most, before she's pounding on Clarke's door--still holding a hand over her face, as much out of pain as it is to hide the evidence as much as possible, and tears still threatening to spill down her cheeks. But even with the swelling she can start to feel, she'd like to think that it doesn't really look that bad. Of course, she can't see the bruising already blooming across her face.]
She hates this, she hates this, she hates this she hates Darcy-
She strides past door 108...and suddenly halts. Backs up, until she's even with the door. Glances across the hall to 109. Someone...should probably look at this, even as the petulant and wounded pride side of her would rather hide it from everyone. Jade--skilled and reliable, but--no, for reasons she doesn't want to examine, he's one person she really doesn't want to face right now. Natsuno...tempting, but he shares a room with Jade...
...Meanwhile, Clarke was willing to pretend her cry-session before didn't happen...
It's a jumbled thought process that really only takes a second, at most, before she's pounding on Clarke's door--still holding a hand over her face, as much out of pain as it is to hide the evidence as much as possible, and tears still threatening to spill down her cheeks. But even with the swelling she can start to feel, she'd like to think that it doesn't really look that bad. Of course, she can't see the bruising already blooming across her face.]
( existence on the serena eterna sucks as a whole, but usually there are pockets of levity that manage to break up the suffering. months and months ago, clarke had likened it to a recharge period for them, the passengers, the human batteries. they can't be made to properly suffer at the hands of the captain without being allowed a little bit of time to recuperate. except she's been wholly and entirely proven wrong these past two months, which have felt unrelenting and yet somehow there's still so much pain to give. only up to a point, though. because after the compromised memories that fracture the mind like glass, the lobby room full of heads, the illusion she'd fallen for, the wholly unsatisfactory conclusion of the issue that was sparkles, and palamedes never returning...
clarke's rather numb. and for once, doesn't find it completely unpleasant.
she's in her cabin at the moment, actually drawing for fun this time. a cat, of all things, in the weird homage to staci pratt and the time he'd shown her cat memes, but also because she'd never seen a real house cat before her time on the ship. and sure, they were all shapeshifters with human forms, but still really cute and fascinating to look at. then comes the sudden pounding on her door, which isn't as alarming as it should be. what's the worst that could be happening out in the hallway, the world ending? been there (several times), done that. it takes a minute to set aside pen and paper, and sweep over to pull the door to 108 open, but then — oh, it's just rita.
clarke gets about halfway through smiling in greeting before she really registers what's in front of her. rita's eyes burn with wet, humiliated fury. her hand is held up in front of her nose but that doesn't really disguise the beginning purpling of a bruise spreading up beneath her eyes. and there's blood, still wet and flowing, traversing down towards the edge of her upper lip. it's really the blood that does it for clarke, and right on cue, the proverbial stone drops — burning through her torso and settling in her stomach, heavy and concerned. all vestiges of a smile fade in an instant, and her gaze hardens. )
What happened to you?
clarke's rather numb. and for once, doesn't find it completely unpleasant.
she's in her cabin at the moment, actually drawing for fun this time. a cat, of all things, in the weird homage to staci pratt and the time he'd shown her cat memes, but also because she'd never seen a real house cat before her time on the ship. and sure, they were all shapeshifters with human forms, but still really cute and fascinating to look at. then comes the sudden pounding on her door, which isn't as alarming as it should be. what's the worst that could be happening out in the hallway, the world ending? been there (several times), done that. it takes a minute to set aside pen and paper, and sweep over to pull the door to 108 open, but then — oh, it's just rita.
clarke gets about halfway through smiling in greeting before she really registers what's in front of her. rita's eyes burn with wet, humiliated fury. her hand is held up in front of her nose but that doesn't really disguise the beginning purpling of a bruise spreading up beneath her eyes. and there's blood, still wet and flowing, traversing down towards the edge of her upper lip. it's really the blood that does it for clarke, and right on cue, the proverbial stone drops — burning through her torso and settling in her stomach, heavy and concerned. all vestiges of a smile fade in an instant, and her gaze hardens. )
What happened to you?
[Sparkles skittered away to hide somewhere, the crowd at the bridge dispersed and life on the Serena Eterna went back to... almost normal. Maintenance is down, food gets replenished much slower, but no one seems to have enough energy to care. They all go back to nursing this round's wounds while going through their motions, waiting for the next disaster and mourning the people they lost.
Palamedes never returned from the dream. They never got to say goodbye. And Clarke... something in Clarke just broke.
Natsuno decides to give her space at first, but as her focus begins to shifts to floral shirts and stale weed, he figures they should talk before she's too far into her dissociative funk.]
...hey. [He slides into a chair next to her as she's getting breakfast.] Wanna walk about what happened inside the maze?
Palamedes never returned from the dream. They never got to say goodbye. And Clarke... something in Clarke just broke.
Natsuno decides to give her space at first, but as her focus begins to shifts to floral shirts and stale weed, he figures they should talk before she's too far into her dissociative funk.]
...hey. [He slides into a chair next to her as she's getting breakfast.] Wanna walk about what happened inside the maze?
( a little space somehow manages to feel like a breath of fresh air and a sucking chest wound all at once. a little distance, and no direct confrontation at least gives her the time to begin putting up mental blockades against the awful, unspecified length of time she'd laid on a cold stone floor crying. after all, what's an illusion but another sort of bad dream, and how good has she gotten at shoving those back down where they'd come from?
losing natsuno had felt like losing a limb. losing palamedes was more like having her heart ripped out, still plagued with the beat of a phantom pulse.
is clarke aware of just how badly and apparently she's dissociating? not particularly, the world just seems a little hazy and she's readily aware of the texture of cold mashed potatoes (decidedly a breakfast food) against her tongue with every bite. unpleasantly gritty, but still tasty. but then the chair next to her scrapes slightly against the ground, natsuno's there, and asking all the hard questions she should have expected. slowly, slowly, clarke half lowers her spoon.
this should have been a conversation she'd practiced in her head, but just never found the time. so — )
Not really. ( plain honesty comes first. then a beat of silence, during which time she lowers her spoon all the way to the plate and idly stirs at the potatoes. )
It was just an illusion. Nothing violent, I just got... stuck.
losing natsuno had felt like losing a limb. losing palamedes was more like having her heart ripped out, still plagued with the beat of a phantom pulse.
is clarke aware of just how badly and apparently she's dissociating? not particularly, the world just seems a little hazy and she's readily aware of the texture of cold mashed potatoes (decidedly a breakfast food) against her tongue with every bite. unpleasantly gritty, but still tasty. but then the chair next to her scrapes slightly against the ground, natsuno's there, and asking all the hard questions she should have expected. slowly, slowly, clarke half lowers her spoon.
this should have been a conversation she'd practiced in her head, but just never found the time. so — )
Not really. ( plain honesty comes first. then a beat of silence, during which time she lowers her spoon all the way to the plate and idly stirs at the potatoes. )
It was just an illusion. Nothing violent, I just got... stuck.
[ Tear stops by to leave a Palnaga for Clarke ... his hair was the
most difficult so far to make with yarn and tommy bahama scraps!
was it insensitive, since he disappeared? or would it be seen as kind?
does it even look enough like him...?
she tries not to stick around to find out. ]
( palnaga is inconspicuous enough that clarke near trips over him the next time she steps outside the door of cabin 108. and confusing enough that she has to pick him up and stare, utterly confused, for a few seconds afterwards.
but palnaga is, at the very core of his stitching, recognizable. it's in the glasses mostly; then in the rumpled dark hair. the caricature of a necromancers book registers last, a while after the realization has settled. the doll is slightly terrifying to behold at first, but once a strained sort of familiarity registers... she pulls it close to her face. stares into the button eyes. an uncomfortable bubble of grief swells in her chest cavity.
and it's a good thing tear doesn't stick around. she doesn't have to witness the way the corners of clarke's mouth wobble, or the way she parts her lips to breathe out half-words that maybe sound like i'm so sorry... it also would have been terribly anticlimactic for tear, had she waited for a response, because the best clarke can do in this moment is turn on her heel and retreat back into her cabin.
the door slams.
the palnaga is fiercely clutched to her chest. and then eventually finds a home on her couch bed, right alongside jake the jellyfish squishmallow. )
but palnaga is, at the very core of his stitching, recognizable. it's in the glasses mostly; then in the rumpled dark hair. the caricature of a necromancers book registers last, a while after the realization has settled. the doll is slightly terrifying to behold at first, but once a strained sort of familiarity registers... she pulls it close to her face. stares into the button eyes. an uncomfortable bubble of grief swells in her chest cavity.
and it's a good thing tear doesn't stick around. she doesn't have to witness the way the corners of clarke's mouth wobble, or the way she parts her lips to breathe out half-words that maybe sound like i'm so sorry... it also would have been terribly anticlimactic for tear, had she waited for a response, because the best clarke can do in this moment is turn on her heel and retreat back into her cabin.
the door slams.
the palnaga is fiercely clutched to her chest. and then eventually finds a home on her couch bed, right alongside jake the jellyfish squishmallow. )
Do you remember the day I found you snooping around Ebalon's things in my cabin?
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