( grumble grumble something grumble, speaking of people that were with her when all that murderous intent showed it's ugly face: ) Mizuki would have eaten her if I asked.
( and god, in that moment how she'd wanted to take him up on the offer made within the first month the two of them had met. this thought also strikes against a painful cord though, because it's been so long since she'd thought about the blue haired boy and his desperate need for orders that sound like justice. longer still since she'd thought about the complex web that connected him, jinx, ebalon, and venti. now doesn't feel like the time, but it's just another ragged emotion wound that's barely stitched over into scar tissue. just like all the others...
palamedes will always have beautiful, indescribably grey eyes. and the way he promises doom on anyone and anything that hurts her will always be incredibly hot, but it bottoms out as just endearing right now — too caught up in her own self flagellation to enjoy the mental image of pal ripping out hearts and blowing up glass. but circumstances and no good choices aside, the only person who'd earned that awful, blood-soaked reputation is herself.
he's being too kind to her.
clarke sniffs loudly. tears still gather and fall, and now comes the snot that she diligently tries to restrain. )
Maybe not all that I am, but she still rules me, Pal. Especially here. I can't just go back to being a stupid little girl who dreams about homesteading on Earth. ( she does not remember the farmer's almanac yet. ) We were dropped on a ship that runs off death, and I've absolutely imagined dozens of ways to kill the people I've met in case it ever became a necessity. I'm still thinking like this is a time of war, while half the people here are acting like it's a peacetime.
cw: mizuki???? idk, cannibalism mention?
( and god, in that moment how she'd wanted to take him up on the offer made within the first month the two of them had met. this thought also strikes against a painful cord though, because it's been so long since she'd thought about the blue haired boy and his desperate need for orders that sound like justice. longer still since she'd thought about the complex web that connected him, jinx, ebalon, and venti. now doesn't feel like the time, but it's just another ragged emotion wound that's barely stitched over into scar tissue. just like all the others...
palamedes will always have beautiful, indescribably grey eyes. and the way he promises doom on anyone and anything that hurts her will always be incredibly hot, but it bottoms out as just endearing right now — too caught up in her own self flagellation to enjoy the mental image of pal ripping out hearts and blowing up glass. but circumstances and no good choices aside, the only person who'd earned that awful, blood-soaked reputation is herself.
he's being too kind to her.
clarke sniffs loudly. tears still gather and fall, and now comes the snot that she diligently tries to restrain. )
Maybe not all that I am, but she still rules me, Pal. Especially here. I can't just go back to being a stupid little girl who dreams about homesteading on Earth. ( she does not remember the farmer's almanac yet. ) We were dropped on a ship that runs off death, and I've absolutely imagined dozens of ways to kill the people I've met in case it ever became a necessity. I'm still thinking like this is a time of war, while half the people here are acting like it's a peacetime.