[Rita's screech probably blends in well with the other teens, even if hers is more exasperated than alarmed. All she did was step out her cabin and right into someone's memory, and if it wasn't so disorienting every time it sure as hell would be getting seriously old.
Ugh. Fine. Fine! Time to just figure out who here's important enough to tail to get this memory to its conclusion--original or otherwise. And, well--that's a little difficult just yet, because it sure is busy here...wherever here is. It's all--dark, and metal, like some kind of technologically-advanced dungeon. And that might be accurate, too, considering...yeah, guards, prisoners, she sure has found herself in some kind of prison, huh? Great. And with all these people, how does she find out-
Just check my file!
...Is she imagining it, or did that voice sound a bit familiar? Rita doesn't bother pressing against the wall to hide (even if she did, she'd stick out like a sore thumb in her brightly-patterned Tommy Bahama wear), instead just taking a step closer to that cell on her right as a commotion starts--and then that sure is a teen girl exploding out of the room. That...sure is Clarke, isn't it? Someone even just called her name-
Oh. Rita crosses her arms, watching with a frown as the older woman hugs Clarke. Watching this just feels--weird, and annoying, especially considering the few tidbits she's heard about Clarke's mom, so...]
Don't any of you people have any decency? Quit throwing your weight around and start explaining!
[Throwing caution and subtlety to the wind, Rita loudly speaks up, half-addressing Abby and half-rebuking the guards.]
aw yeah mama drama
[Rita's screech probably blends in well with the other teens, even if hers is more exasperated than alarmed. All she did was step out her cabin and right into someone's memory, and if it wasn't so disorienting every time it sure as hell would be getting seriously old.
Ugh. Fine. Fine! Time to just figure out who here's important enough to tail to get this memory to its conclusion--original or otherwise. And, well--that's a little difficult just yet, because it sure is busy here...wherever here is. It's all--dark, and metal, like some kind of technologically-advanced dungeon. And that might be accurate, too, considering...yeah, guards, prisoners, she sure has found herself in some kind of prison, huh? Great. And with all these people, how does she find out-
Just check my file!
...Is she imagining it, or did that voice sound a bit familiar? Rita doesn't bother pressing against the wall to hide (even if she did, she'd stick out like a sore thumb in her brightly-patterned Tommy Bahama wear), instead just taking a step closer to that cell on her right as a commotion starts--and then that sure is a teen girl exploding out of the room. That...sure is Clarke, isn't it? Someone even just called her name-
Oh. Rita crosses her arms, watching with a frown as the older woman hugs Clarke. Watching this just feels--weird, and annoying, especially considering the few tidbits she's heard about Clarke's mom, so...]
Don't any of you people have any decency? Quit throwing your weight around and start explaining!
[Throwing caution and subtlety to the wind, Rita loudly speaks up, half-addressing Abby and half-rebuking the guards.]