i tried ( memshare event )

[skaikru]

Who: clarke griffin & your poor unfortunate soul
What: memories, all alone in the moonlight
When: all of march
Where: wherever you least expect a rift in reality to open up. also space, mount weather, earth...
Warnings: general warnings for blood, violence, murder attempted or completed, genocide, maybe even gross body farming. specific prompts will have their individual warnings listed in the body of this post and any additional ones will be noted in subject headers.




CHILDHOOD ( open )
— enjoy the little things, like watching a kid commit the stupid crime of touching books. no warnings here.

SKYBOX ( karkat, number 6, & open )
— did you know clarke was in prison for a year for treason? conspiracy to commit treason? eh, best summed up as "to keep her quiet". well now you can find out! bonus points, she thinks she's hallucinating. cw: probably some dead dad/execution talk and mention of mild eugenics themes, this is dystopia space after all.

D(ropship) DAY ( rita & open )
— when 100 kids are pretty certain they're about to be prematurely executed, one or two's likely to fight back. abby griffin cameo! cw: see above warnings.

QUARANTINE ( darcy, palamedes, & open )
— witness clarke gone absolutely feral, and her first escape attempt from body harvesters she doesn't know are body harvesters yet mount weather. cw: some self harm, blood, violence, potential body horror depending on how the thread goes.

LEVERS ( open but requires plotting )
— join clarke in committing a genocide! cw: genocide!! (also mentions of torture and body farming) this can also partially serve as a cinematic experience for your character, but please respond with some sort of reaction just so i know who saw it.

AIRLOCK 5 ( semi-closed to natsuno, but hmu ooc if you're interested )
— no one likes being faced with their demons. but sometimes those demons set up creepy music boxes and lure you into watching your friends being murdered. cw: violence, attempted (or successful! threads of fate can be changed) murder

THE CITY OF LIGHT ( open )
— when you show an a.i. a picture of the greater metropolitan new york, but she cleans it up and also makes it a hivemind that you have to infiltrate. cw: violence, some creepy hivemind shit, will warn further for anything else.

AFTERMATH ( open )
— your all purpose aftermath wildcards! wanted a memory i mentioned in the plotting post but it didn't make the cut? still available upon request! request starters or throw up your own

Comments

[be_seeing_you]

No. Suppose not. You know, there are not many people who could accurately recreate images like these without a reference. You should take pride in this.

[He's making a note to gift her more of the chalks he has in his cabin. She'd shown promise that one time when he'd offered to let her try them. But she hesitated to use something that wasn't hers. So, he'll take care of that problem by making them hers. Maybe it will bring her some comfort.]

Humor me, won't you? Tell me why you have been imprisoned.

[skaikru]

( briefly she wonders of the psychology of a hallucination praising her artwork. does this mean she's secretly conceited? drawing is just a silly hobby, something that took up the time while she'd been growing up with no fields to run around in and really only one friend to play with. something to keep her occupied after school work and dogging after her mother during her internship. and now something that occasionally keeps her mind of what will probably end up being a death sentence.

clarke opens her mouth to say thank you, because that's polite. but the conversation shifts really quickly into something less pleasant and she swallows hard. there's a weird mix of suspicion — no really, shouldn't you already know that? — and genuine guilt in her tone when she answers: )

Treason.

[be_seeing_you]

Treason? On what grounds? Please, continue to humor my curiosity.

[skaikru]

( she shrugs a little, still seated on the ground. then full body squirms, like she'd like to pull her knees to her chest and curl into a protective fetal position. )

Colluding with my father, I'd guess. Going against the Council's orders.

( there hadn't been any sort of trial and sentencing. just a quick and efficient removal, and shoved into a skybox cell for six months to rot. )

[be_seeing_you]

You guess? You were never told?

[skaikru]

It isn't like they they showed me an arrest warrant. It was just airlock ( she holds up a hand in one spot, then smashcuts it to another spot on an invisible linear line. ) Skybox.

( one more smashcut: ) "Shut up".

Doesn't matter what was on the paperwork anyway, so long as it's egregious enough to ruin my review.

[be_seeing_you]

What will happen to you now? You can't stay here forever.

[skaikru]

( a distant thing for peter to notice: the soft hiss of oxygen through a vent has just grown quieter. the already stale, recycled air is about to start feeling a little heavy, and the temperature in the cell is going to climb a solid seven degrees in the next seven minutes. headaches are likely impending, and the corners of clarke's mouth will turn a progressive shade of blue.

airflow to the room has been reduced by 40%. breathing is about to get a little uncomfortable.

for the most part though, she seems unbothered by all this. )

It won't be forever. Just another... seven or eight months? Then the societal reintegration review, and probably a one way trip to the airlock. If we make it that long, of course.

[be_seeing_you]

[It takes him a moment to realize it, but when he does he's horrified at the sudden thinness of the air, at the way his chest feels tight and his head is growing fuzzy. Already a throb is starting at his temple.]

If you make it that long? Is this vessel in distress?

[skaikru]

Yeah. The Ark's dying. I don't know what the Council is doing about it now, I don't know what they can do. This... ( she trails off briefly, gaze stretching sidelong and momentarily latching on the sketches of pyramids and the chrysler building. ) This'll be the end of the human race.

( ... )

No, seriously, how do you not know this? ( any humor has been absent in that request to "humor me". it's a sad sort of conversation; clarke can't quite parse out why she'd unconsciously create another person to have it with. )

[be_seeing_you]

You take me for a figment of your subconscious, so you tell me?

[He's feeling woozy, so he decides it might be a good opportunity to sit down close to her, to meet her more on her level.]

You're very lonely, Clarke. I don't mean just here in this cell. You've felt very alone for so long. But I want you to try something for me now. Imagine you could get a message to your future self, hypothetically. What would you want to tell that future version of you? What hopes do you have for her? What would you want her to do with her life, if she got away from here?

[skaikru]

( there's the beginnings of a splitting headache behind her own eyeballs, but fact of the matter is clarke's had six months to get used to this. she's devoted a portion of focus to taking long, deep breaths and not panicking when they don't fill up her lungs. but the apparition moves to sit and asks questions shaped like steak knives; designed to cut to the bone.

surprise flashes across her features, followed by confusion. a flicker of insult with every insinuation of lonely or alone, but not any sort she can argue — because it's accurate, and he also moves on really quickly to hypotheticals. )

I don't... understand. ( but give her a second and she'll try. continue haltingly with: )

Cry less? Don't believe anyone who says they're your best friend. I'm —... This is silly, because I'm absolutely going to be executed the second I turn eighteen, but I guess...

I really hope she lives. This, uh, hypothetical future version of me. I hope it doesn't hurt as much when she thinks about our dad as it does for me right now. I'd like if she still wanted to be a doctor, otherwise I really wasted the last six years of my life on an internship. And I mean... I hope she's a good guy, in the end. You know?

( he may look at ship!clarke sometimes and see a kid, but a lot happened between the skybox and the serena eterna that made her grow up. this version right here is an infant in comparison, still believing in the stark division between good guy and bad guy; black and white; evil and good. )

[be_seeing_you]

You aren't going to die. Clarke, you will live through this and more. It will change you. It will embitter you. You will lose your faith in something better along the way. Your rage will consume you.

[It no longer sounds like he is speaking in hypotheticals.]

I sincerely wish this wasn't so. Yet, I want to believe there is still some hope in you. You will find someone to love and cherish in your future. And you will find a cause to fight for once more. But, at your current trajectory, I fear you and I will come down on opposite sides of a terrible decision.

There are no good guys. There are no bad guys. There are only choices and those who must make them. And live and die by their results.

[He looks back at the walls, at the drawings on them, and smiles... a melancholy smile.]

You still love art in that future. You can still see beauty. I don't believe you are too broken to be made whole. You could choose life. You could pick up your pursuits to be a doctor once more. I wish you would.

[skaikru]

( the shift in tone is noted. she shifts around in her seated position, and internally struggles through the clouds creeping across her mind. but that's a lot of exposition, and the hypoxia makes it hard to process. )

If you're some personification of my will to live... I'm not sure if you're doing a good job or not.

( it's like being slapped with optimism with one hand, and torment in the other. this hallucination isn't talking like a hallucination; promises her suffering and rage and a loss of self one moment, and in the next hard truths she won't be able to completely appreciate until eight months later. references some terrible future disagreement, which just confuses her. then some sort of pleasant call to action, call back to aspirations that died right alongside her father and —

clarke's head hurts. she raises a hand to scrub across her face, rubbing hard at her eyes like it'll alleviate the ache behind them, then asks: )

What's your name? Or do I need to make one up?

okay with winding this one down to get to the aftermath?

[be_seeing_you]

I am more than that. You'll understand soon.

[He trusts that her will to die for something worthwhile is strong, if not her will to live.]

My name is Peter Smith. When you remember this, please come speak with me.

[He can see the shining of the rift, this usually heralds the end of a memory episode. He hopes, even if this encounter was brief, maybe something will get through.]

absolutely! let's do it

[skaikru]

...that is such a boring name.

( clarke has no reference for the sensation, but past the uncomfortable physical side effects and before long term effects like vision loss, hypoxia feels a little like being drunk. a little like laughing gas. only on other nights, she's never had something to laugh about.

her eyes still throb with uncomfortable pressure, and she rubs them harder; chin dipping towards her chest, knees drawing up as she hunches into a sitting fetal position and chuckles. mumbles mostly to herself: ) Is that how bored I am right now? That the only hallucination I can think up speaks in riddles? Can't even manage a chess set to help pass time, but this...

( if number 6 would like the opportunity for a clean, quiet exit while clarke's not looking, this would be it. )

thanks!

[be_seeing_you]

It was meant to be inconspicuous.

[There's no bite behind those words. He can't do anything but pity her in this state. If only he could offer her something more than a promise that things will change. He cannot even promise they will be for the better.

When her head dips forward that way, he does take that opportunity, slipping back into the crack, leaving her there to wonder if she's imagined it all or not. The Clarke on this side of the barrier, at least, will know it wasn't all a dream. He hopes she will find him as he asked. He hopes it won't be to punch him.]

[skaikru]

It's conspicuous how boring it is.

( the clarke in the memory eventually looks up; can't see any sign of the rift and just sighs. she hadn't cared for most of this conversation, but cares less for being completely and utterly alone again. ) Wait — ( she pleads, but the skybox cell is utterly empty. she lays back down on the ground because it's closer than the bed and her whole line of vision is dangerously tilting on its axis, and sleeps.

—

and the clarke on the ship eventually wakes up from an inconvenient nap alongside palamedes, after which she half jokes that she doesn't know if peter just interrogated her, tried to manipulate her, or attempted to give her a peptalk. half jokes. something about this particular rifted memory leaves a sour taste on the back of her tongue, and it takes days before she's willing to address it.

even then it's not actively seeking the man out, more a matter of happening upon him in sand dollars. she needs to sidestep a particularly large rift to order her coffee, and half considers just walking out the front door once the mug is in her hands. but he'd walked out on her without a well and proper goodbye, and there's a sort of closure only her current self can offer now.

so, hi peter. if you weren't looking for company at your little coffee shop table, too bad, you have it now. clarke slides into the seat opposite, a cup of black coffee in hand. also two sugar packets and two cream cups, which she sets about pulling open and dumping into the cup.

a beat of stewing silence, then — )

I don't appreciate what you tried to do.

( at least!! it isn't!!! punching!!!! )

[be_seeing_you]

[Just when he started to believe she'd never confront him about it, here she is. She's picked her timing well because he's very unprepared for this meeting now. All he can do is quietly sip his tea while he waits for her to finish doctoring her coffee. Heaven only knows what's going to come out of her mouth.

Actually, it's far more diplomatic than he anticipated.]

I'm sorry if I crossed a line. However, everything I said to you is true.

[skaikru]

( clarke probably learned passive aggressive tea stirring techniques from palamedes. along with almost everything she knows about magic, but much like necromancy she takes it, and dumbs it down for her own needs. so please enjoy the most aggressive coffee doctoring of your life, 6. )

Hm. Some of it, maybe. But not everything.

( i don't believe you are too broken to be made whole, rings in her head like an unwelcome alarm clock. he's wrong there, or so she's convinced herself. and it isn't a topic clarke's willing to budge on. )

I don't have any desire to be a doctor anymore.

[be_seeing_you]

[The coffee preparation is so impressively passive-aggressive he can't even find it in himself to be offended by it.]

I meant it to be true. I'm sorry you don't see it that way.

What do you have the desire to be?

[skaikru]

( man, what a question. with no easy answer, and nothing as concrete as a career in mind. safe? powerful enough to keep my friends safe? at peace?

...whatever it ends up being, peter's lost some 'casual acquaintance' xp, and is now firmly at the bottom of the list for finding out once clarke figures it out. )

Nope, no. Not having another prying conversation with you. Just here to say you suck, and next time someone thinks they're hallucinating, just play along. Save them the headache.

[be_seeing_you]

I suppose it's in my nature to pry. But I apologize. I'll keep it in mind if it should ever happen again.

[skaikru]

( well.... )

...okay. Good.

( that was actually markedly easier of a conversation than she'd expected. said her peace, peter apologized. and while any fragile trust was dead and buried, this is the serena eterna. dead things have a habit of coming back. clarke could just leave right now, but she remains seated. crosses her legs. sips as passive aggressively as she'd stirred in cream and sugar, elbows on the table and eyes fixed over the rim of her cup. and then — )

So what else have you been prying out of peoples memories?

[be_seeing_you]

[He really was expecting her to take the apology and go. So this is... an interesting twist.

He takes an unhurried sip of his own tea while he considers her.]

Now, what would you think if I went and told others what I saw in your memory, Hm? I don't think you would care for me doing that. So, why should I tell you what I've learned of others?