[Natsuno turns to look at her. She wants his... what? Absolution? Judgement? He can give neither. They don't know each other's circumstances - not really.]
Better than running away from it.
[He looks back at the dark ocean, silent for a few moments.]
I knew people I cared about would get hurt because of my actions. [His father, losing his only son for the second time. Kaori, forced to kill her own father. Tohru, dead for good.] I did it anyway.
[Three more shots.]
Everyone makes choices. All we can do is stand behind ours.
( ask her that question outright, and clarke would insist she wanted nothing from him. maybe just to erase one of the mysteries on this ship and, again, offer natsuno an out. if he didn't like the idea of being saddled with a repeat genocidal murderer for a partner here, he shouldn't have to deal with it just because their circumstance didn't offer any alternatives.
but at the same time, absolution has a certain draw to it. not that forgiveness from anyone other than herself would ever truly stick, and clarke is never going to give that to herself. it would cheapen the suffering she'd caused, and the dead deserved their pound of flesh.
for now, she'll take his response as a thin strand of empathy, and use it to strengthen her resolve that — yup. it was time to knuckle down and repeat hard choices and bloody choices all over again, as their situation would come to demand. )
Given the option, would you make those same choices over again?
( teleport her through time and space right back to the moment she burnt an entire army alive, or irradiated an entire population? no, clarke would not do a single thing differently. but those bloody moments had earned her the title of wanheda and sometimes she has to wonder — )
I get caught up, though. On wondering if I hadn't made those first few difficult decisions, maybe none of the rest of them would have happened. Or that maybe they could have been someone else's calls to make.
( she'd been holding her own gun at her side, running her thumb along the back of the slide in some unconscious attempt to ground herself in this reality, and not go spiraling into age old what if's and what could have been's. for a break from conversation, she levels her weapon out beyond the guard rail and fires three more times to match his cluster. the need to do something, to act out, to fight a little here — is overwhelming, but clarke comes back from it feeling none the more confident.
but maybe a tad more centered. )
Then the next one pops up, and it's just easier if I make the call. And I'm reminded, every time, that I'd do it willingly — over and over again — so long as it meant the people I cared about wouldn't have to bear that responsibility.
[His choices were more selfish. Death was the only option and he never let himself think of the what if's.]
I couldn't bear the responsibility, at first, but couldn't let anyone else do it either. [If you can't become a hunter, you'll have ti become a victim.] It only made things worse.
So I don't think it's as bad as you're making it sound. Making the call so they wouldn't... I think it's brave.
( the what if's and the ghostly figured she'd left in her wake are the main reason clarke struggles to sleep, even in a stretch of reality so far removed from that which she was born around.
likewise, if you can't kill you get killed. if you can't be the person driving the tank, you end up a body in the mound along the side of the road. dog eat dog, morals shift, atrocities happen — yet life goes on. until one day it just suddenly stops. )
I don't think it can be called bravery when it's a necessity and you hate ( yourself for ) it.
And when it's not a necessity and you don't hate it, it's called evil.
[He sighs.]
Maybe it doesn't matter how you call it. [Arguing about semantics is hardly the point, after all, and Natsuno can't presume to know everything she's been through.] But... do you really have to carry that alone?
( another hard, wet sniff. but this time when clarke finally drags her gaze from the back of her own hand, it's a tight sort of sentimental expression on her face: a thin smile, knit brows, damp and glossy eyes, and beyond it all — a fond sort of remembrance. )
The people who'd carry it with me are the ones I want to protect from it the most.
( none of us is innocent, maya had breathed out as she died. and that may be true, but not everyone needed to suffer guilt on top of their grief. this was leadership, shouldering the load and never putting it down. this is... not what she'd signed up for, but the role she'd willingly stepped into when they'd been left without any other options. )
I don't always get my way with that, but. I do what I can for them.
[He can respect that. Not empathy, but sympathy. His own circumstances make it easy to forget other passengers have people and places to come back to.]
I hope you'll find a way back to them.
[Y'know. Hope you're not ACTUALLY dead and they're not all burned to ash.]
( that's a sweet sentiment and everything, but is undermined by clarke's own self loathing and the acknowledgement that she's changed from a bright eyed, optimistic teenage girl into an instinctual instrument of death.
natsuno is being favored with a side-long, almost rueful smile. )
I hope they don't need me anymore.
( and this has all been lovely, but entirely too open and vulnerable so, a somewhat immediate misdirect. )
Want to try hitting a target? ( behind them is the stretch of deck that leads back to the doors into the ships interior. there's bound to be some sort of lighting fixture illuminating the entrance, and that's what clarke jerks her thumb at. ) Put the lights out.
[Back to business, then. Natsuno respects that, too. He follows suit without missing a beat.]
Sure.
[Lightning fixture it is. He'll need to aim a little higher for that. Natsuno aims carefully, taking a few moments to find what he thinks is the right position before pulling the trigger.
It's not dead center, but the fixture is big enough that it shatters anyway.]
( a killshot doesn't need to be dead center, it just needs to shred enough bone and tissue to get past the point of no return. as far as clarke's concerned, that's a really good shot. a really good shot actually. )
For someone who'd never shot a gun before tonight ( DOUBT, the look she favors him with — now that they've neatly folded the traumatic portion of this conversation back into it's own place — is dubious, but tinged with an edge of impressed. ) you're pretty good at this.
It's different — it's always different when you actually shoot another living thing. But your form's good, and you have a good eye.
[A good eye. His eyes are better than a human's, but he didn't actually think being a supernatural apex predator will be useful for shooting things, too. Thanks, he hates it.]
It'll be different with other inanimate objects, too.
[Smaller, further, in a closed space where bullets ricochet...]
( but clarke hears how her own words sounds coming out of her mouth, and winces. offers an apologetic half-smile, and starts again. )
Ideally, if it's another person you're going to shoot, you've exhausted all other options. Escape, diplomacy, non-lethal alternatives... And once you're in a corner with no other choices, it's —
( obvious? easy? the only thing to do? understandable? survival instincts take over, and maybe guilt will creep in later. it really does just come down to pointing and pulling the trigger, but the emotional whiplash still smarts. looking back for some of natsuno's own words regarding choice and consequence, clarke lands on: )
In the moment, you make that choice — either choice, really. And then you get to live with it, for however much longer you live.
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!!
( ̄▽ ̄*)ゞ ur room is pref. ive kinda abandoned mine for the pool lol
no. just have some info i got from jenny. but some of it i feel like maybe evry1 shouldnt kno?? u might be better to have that info and figure out who can kno and who can not kno, if that makes sense?
dunno if i can trust her, but i think that other ppl feel the same. some may try 2 do things to go against what i have 2 tell u. things that will hurt her. dunno if that’s right or not? im no good w/ these things…
( oh, o-heckin-kay. she's picking up just a bit of speed on her way from up on the tennis courts — where she'd done less sports than glowering at the captain's area for sport — and will eventually push out of the elvator doors on the cabin level before they even completely open. it's really just a long hallway of bedrooms, and she can spot mizuki by 108 almost immediately.
there's the very strong desire — impatient curiosity — to demand answers the second they're within earshot of one another, but clarke also recognizes that the implication of a private, in person chat could carry heavier information that no passerby should hear. so instead, she nods at him when approaching, uses her shiptalk app to unlock her cabin door, and gestures for him to walk in first.
the interior of cabin 108 is... similar to every other cabin, with the exception of the absolute hoard of random supplies between the wall and the bed. clarke had woken up several days before her roommate had, and had very quickly busied herself collecting any non-perishable snack pack from the general store, bottled water, anything remotely flammable — nail polish remover, dryer sheets, pool noodles, etc — in case... honestly, just in case. apart from that the desk area is covered in pages ripped from spiral notebooks, some are taped to the wall; one or two intricate portrait sketches interspersed between rough doodles of magical sigils, rough-drawn maps of the entire ship, and incomplete passenger manifests. the murderboard vibes within 108 are strong.
and let's just ignore the pillow and blanket on the floor. the bed is too soft, and gradually more and more crowded with survivalist supplies. there's a chair at the desk, and that will be what clarke inevitably gestures at, an unspoken invitation for him to sit. )
What'd you find out, Mizuki? And why do you think uninhibitedly sharing it with everyone else would be a bad idea?
( this is not unfamiliar territory for clarke. in fact, it runs so close to the lining of her heart that it's almost all she can do to ask the questions with an even keel and no outward stress reflected on her features. )
[ Mizuki greets her with the usual smile and a small wave on her arrival. He would apologize for springing this on her so suddenly, but it's sort of one of those situations where if he doesn't get it off of his chest now, it may never get done. That, and he's afraid of waiting too long to bring it up.
But he does enter and sit as he's motioned to do, putting his phone away in the process. The room is... a lot. Clarke's certainly done quite a bit more decorating than Mizuki would ever do, but... mostly just because he's been living in the pool. Kind of hard to decorate that with much of anything. He wonders if his roomie did anything fun in there yet? Maybe he should go check up on him... ]
I think it's better if I just... tell you everything? There may be stuff that you might already know, sorry in advanced, but I'll just list it all off if that's okay. Do you want to take notes or something? Should I wait for you to get a pen?
( only because the second clarke perches on the edge of her bed, there's a composition notebook and ballpoint pen immediately to her right. and it's summarily scooped up, flipped open, with the pen tip ready to go against the page.
but first and foremost, she'll listen. notes can be scrawled after the fact, for now it's mostly just a prop as she levels him with a heavy, demanding gaze — and gives a slight nod of her head, in invitation to start talking. )
[ Inhale. You got this, Mizuki. It's just like giving a report to the Doctor. Only, there's no team to back up whatever you may have left out... No pressure!
...Exhale. ]
To start, the information I'm fine with everyone knowing because I don't think it matters one way or another: We are stuck in... a bubble, for lack of a better term. The barrier that ends a few miles out from this ship... ends this space. There's no continuation of the sea. According to Jenny, it's... a void? Space? Something that threads between realities, where every moment "hangs like stars."
Next, the information I just want you to have to do with as you see fit: Jenny is very old, to start. Apparently, old enough to have been part of the whole "born from the first lightning in the sky," whatever that means? And she has two brothers. She cannot remember them, however. She believes they're still on this ship, potentially as ghosts? Unclear. The Captain apparently uses the... "ghosts" as a source of his magic?? And his magic is finite, meaning there are ways for us to wear it out.
This is where the tricky part comes in. I fear if we wear it out too much, we risk Jenny losing her brothers, but if we can somehow contain how much we try to make him use his magic, perhaps we can all come to our happy endings? ...I don't know. I'm not very good at solving things like that. But you're very smart, Miss Clarke, so maybe you have some ideas?
[ A beat. ]
Ah, one more thing. I asked her something we should expect to prepare ourselves for. She said, "Having to unanimously vote for who you are going to sacrifice. Including the sacrifice."
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