come_sailaway | i tried ( memshare event )

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i tried ( memshare event )

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

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[Wow, that’s a lot to unpack, Clarke. But this month has been really fucking weird already, so he sets most of it aside for now.]

Well, that will teach you to introduce Rita to the family.

[Pal is still trying to sort through the jumble of images in his mind to make some sense of them. For someone with an eidetic memory, it’s an entirely new experience.]

…You should have seen Harrow’s face when Natsuno told her he was a vampire.

( palamedes sextus, you simply cannot just drop the driest of punchlines (haha) when she's already struggling not to cackle. all the incredulity, all the confusion, all the pain of sifting through peoples worst memories — it's all got to come out some way in reality. and today clarke's nervous system has apparently chosen laughter.

she snorts so hard it hurts. )

Sad I missed that. Give me your best impression.

[Look, this month has been extremely stressful, and if laughter is what gets them through it, so be it.

Pal attempts to scrunch up his face into a look of Harrow-like disdain, but he can't hold it for long. His grin starts to tug at his lips, and then he's giggling quietly, almost hysterically.]

( palamedes trying to impersonate the face she's imagining is even funnier than just imagining it. clarke snorts so hard out her nose that it hurts a little, and slaps a hand back over her mouth. him joining in the laugh fit makes it way harder to curb her own humor, and her ribs shake with silenced cackles until they start to ache. )

Natsuno's really been through it this month. He saved my life and then I almost shot him.

I still can't believe we got him out of Jade's memories before he ended up on the dissecting table. [He snorts and pinches his nose wearily.] God, what a month.

( oh man, the topic of their unintentional ~~father figure~~ adult of choice... )

Jade's... kind of scary. ( clarke's nose wrinkles, as if she's just tasted something particularly sour (or muddy, bloody, and ugly) once touching upon the memory of jade curtiss and a battlefield. ) ...was scary. Maybe even scarier now that we know what he used to be like. His eyes were... so empty.

( she's not entirely put off of him though, because jade curtiss also took a coffee table for her once. cauterized her stab wound on his couch, helped natsuno after the sun el incident, believed her after rita's murder, killed her body so her soul could return to it and — and... a lot of other things.

... )

Peter Smith either interrogated me or tried to give me a peptalk. I haven't figured out which.

( ...

...

...

most all of the mirth drains from her features and the hand hovering around her mouth goes back to rest on the rumpled bedspread. )

I watched you die.

I knew he had a complicated past, but was another matter to see him like that, wasn’t it? [He frowns faintly] Jade Curtiss is capable of terrible things. But I think he lives every day trying to make amends for what he’s done.

[But then they’re not talking about Jade, or Natsuno, or even Peter Smith—though for the record, Pal is pretty sure that every conversation with the man is at least partly an interrogation.

No, they are talking about another new memory that sits at the back of Palamedes’ mind, hazy and unmoored as is so much from his time in his bubble. He swallows hard, gaze darting away at first, though after a moment he forces it to return to her.]

Clarke, I am sorry you had to see that. From the bottom of my soul.

( in the moment, she'd been absolutely dogshit at separating the past event from the current emotions, and it had showed. horribly, wetly, desperately on her face — and she knows it.

but a little distance from that hallway, from that bubble... let's just say clarke acknowledges she acted like a heartbroken fool where she had no reasonable business doing so, and maybe they can move on without addressing the messy feelings housed in her ribcage. pal makes himself look back at her and clarke forces a fleeting smile in turn, hoping that it passes as genuine. )

No need to apologize. It's — well, not fine, but... ( in the past. before they met. he did what he had to do, right? and she doesn't want to contribute to that burden that must already weigh so heavily. an awkward half-shrug against the mattress, then: )

Sorry for adding to your headache.

What? [It takes Pal a moment to even connect what she’s talking about with the strange, overlapping memories of his time in the bubble] Oh, Clarke. Emperor’s bones, don’t apologize for that. Believe me when I say that of all the things that gave me a headache that day, you were by far the nicest.

[He lightly touches her shoulder.] I shouldn’t have been so..inhospitable. Frankly, if I’d been thinking, I would have enjoyed the company while I had it.

Edited 2023-04-15 02:48 (UTC)

( the whole experience of pal not recognizing her, and summarily seeking to expel her from his bubble like they'd hoped to expel the ghosts possessing their compatriots on halloween has left a rather deep wound. present-palamedes' apology is like a bandaid slapped over it; still something, but not enough to ease the way her heart aches. in the moment clarke resolutely ignores the lingering sensation of hurt and gives him a half smile in turn.

the brush of her shoulder is treated like an invitation to cuddle and clarke scoots a few inches closer on the bedspread. idly tugs on the front of his shirt like she's picking off bits of lint, just an excuse to reach out and touch.

somewhat coyly: ) It's true, I'm great company.

( except...

once you get to know her.

the pick of her fingers stills on his chest. the edges of her face fall into a perturbed sort of concentration, and another altered memory is dredged up from the depths of her brain. )

You saw me...

( in the mountain. )

You won’t get any argument from me, though some people might call me biased when it comes to your company.

[He’s smiling as he speaks, but when he looks over at her the smile falters ever-so-slightly.] I...yes. I saw you a couple of times, in fact.

[He wonders what she remembers of the man who showed her a book as a child, or the odd boy she definitely didn’t remember being part of the original 100 delinquents who had followed her around during her disastrous adventures in Mount Weather. It seems best, at least for the moment, to tread carefully.]

( biased as he may be, clarke see's that faltering smile for something other than it is. she does not remember the man who'd shown her chicks and barns and sunflowers in a forbidden farmers almanac onboard the ark, just the barely recognizable face who'd dogged her steps in mount weather from beginning to awful, sordid end.

she's still there, but it's like her soul's gone hollow when recounting: )

You watched me kill 381 people.

( the ghost of carl emerson is perpetually dogging her, but in the wake of another screwed up memory where natsuno'd flung him across the room, his voice resonates particularly loud. )

182 men, 173 women, 26 children.

You watched me kill one person. Two, technically. So I've got 379 to go.

[Sorry, Clarke. Pal is still in deflect-with-humor mode. But he isn’t wrong.]

Clarke. [Speaking more softly now, he gently lifts up her chin so that they are looking each other in the eyes.] I was there. I could have stopped you. But I didn’t.

( deflecting through humor is fine when she does it, but super not cool when she's trying to express to palamedes how much he ought to be horrified and disgusted with her. it feels like he's about to try and offer her absolution when he tilts her head up, but it's somehow worse, he makes himself a party to the slaughter — as if he held any responsibility. )

You weren't there before, though. When I burned 300 soldiers alive, with machinery they'd never even seen before.

You weren't there with me when I let that bomb drop on the accords at Tondc. Those were my people, but if we'd evacuated the Mountain Men would have known about Bellamy and — and —

( she can and very much will go on like this for every atrocity she's had a hand in. )

[Clarke is trying to shock him—and admittedly, it is a shocking litany of deaths. But Palamedes’ expression doesn’t flicker.]

No. I wasn’t. But your friends were there, just like they were there in Mount Weather. You don’t get to take all the blame yourself, Clarke. That’s far, far too simple. And the decisions one makes to survive are never simple.

( who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things.

she shakes her head aggressively against the bedcovers in an effort to rid her of the ghost of bellamy blake. and the thought of: when did i bear it so they don't have to actually become it's all my fault? was it when those same friends she'd done horrible things in order to protect start to look at her differently because of them? probably. and honestly, she tells herself, they were probably right.

and the only reason people here don't look at her in that exact same way is because she's never told them — with the exception of natsuno, who'd taken these same stories so easily she suspects he'd help her pull levers one day. but she's had a year of that pleasant ignorance from palamedes already, and now he really just needs to listen to her. )

That's not even everything. That's not even everyone, I — ( atom, caliban, carl emerson, finn. lexa — ) Do you want to know what they called me after that? After the Mountain?

[And after a year of pleasant ignorance, Clarke wants to bare her soul. What does she want from Palamedes in return? Condemnation? Absolution? Neither are quite what he can offer, not after having spent weeks watching horrors manifest on Mount Weather, and joining the delinquents in their fight for their lives, and standing in the control room while the options ticked down until only pull the lever was left.

Pal’s morality is steadfast, but not inflexible. What he saw in Mount Weather gnaws at him, but the decision irradiate its residents was not the worst of the terrible acts he witnessed, and it definitely isn’t one that Clarke is solely responsible for. Maybe the other atrocities were different, but based on the evidence given, he is skeptical.

But maybe that doesn’t matter. Maybe what Clarke needs has nothing to do with him. So Pal just keeps looking at her with his inquisitive grey eyes.]

Do you want to tell me?

No, I don't want to tell you. ( that came out pretty aggressively, which clarke recognizes almost instantly and tries to reign in. they're just talking, but her body is responding like they're building to a fight — what would be doomed to be a horribly one-sided, unsatisfying fight considering all pal's met her with is calm acknowledgement and gentle touches so far — and she doesn't want that, so.

quieter, with a forced air of rational calm that doesn't even begin to mask the earnestness in her tone: )

But we've known each other a while, Pal. We eat together, we scheme together, you fall asleep next to me sometimes. You're important to me. And I don't wanna — ( jeopardize that. but also not keep lying by omission. ) You deserve to know.

[Clarke's flashes of barely-contained anger get no reaction from Pal. He barely blinks, looking at her with the same calm sorrow.

It's probably very annoying.]

You don't owe me anything from your past, Clarke. But, since it is of such significance to you, then tell me.

( it's actually super fucking annoying, and she doesn't know what to do with it or how to take it, which just makes everything worse. it's quite possible that palamedes has one of the only hero complexes on board that rivals her own, and that apparently stretches all the way down to the point he feels he's owed nothing from the people around him. which, yanno, same hat over here, but clarke balks so aggressively once the shoe is on the other foot. he deserves everything.

it takes her a minute. mouth screwing up, eyebrows scrunching. gaze hard, but that special type of vulnerable where one could guess she's about two mean comments away from tearing up. this is hard, but hard things has long since become clarke's baseline and she eventually starts with a whisper. )

They called me Wanheda, the "Commander of Death". ( starts as a little, then becomes a lot. starts as a trickle, then evolves into a waterfall of words over lips. ) You know when we first met, at the information meeting? And I told you I thought the Captain had spoken to me through Gal Friday's mouth? He called me that too. He knew. It's probably why he bet on me for the Battle Royale.

I've killed so many people, Pal. ( and because she self flagelates enough to have kept a running count: ) 940 people. 941 if you include Pratt. 942 if you include what the revenant in my body did to Rita on Halloween night. And I never wanted to tell anyone, because I didn't want them to look at me differently. But now I don't understand why you're still looking at me like that.

( that. calm, accepting. active listening, no immediate judgement. why isn't he flinching away? where's the disgust? please, it'd at least be familiar. )

That’s a lot of people.

[Even Palamedes, who continues to watch her with quiet sadness, won’t pretend that it isn’t. And some part of him deep inside does cringe—he doesn’t like to think that someone he cares for so deeply has been responsible for so much death, or that she carries such a burden with her.]

But you are no Commander of Death, and the Captain, of all people, has no right to throw such a name in your face. I can’t speak for the circumstances of those other 561 people, but you didn’t single-handedly slaughter the people of Mount Weather. Any one of us would have pulled that lever. If you hadn’t been there, someone else still would have.

[A pause]

You couldn’t save them, Clarke. And that fucking sucks. But I’m looking at you like this because that’s not the same as killing them, and calling yourself their murderer will not bring them back.

( months ago, it almost broke her when she'd spelled out every high, low, and bloody part of her life to natsuno on a rooftop in the middle of the night. and here, curled atop the bed coverings with pal, everything just might finally snap. all the ways her friends looked at her back home — jasper condemning, murphy loathing, monty wary, octavia judging, bellamy hurt, abby shocked — why does palamedes just look sad? not even for the dead, but for her? a few tears finally break the barrier and gather along her waterline, spilling over the bridge of her nose and down to nest against the ear pressed to the blanket. )

I stood on a hill and said I wanted every single Mountain Man dead. I practically swore to it, tell me that's not premeditated murder.

( but she's mostly just talking to talk now. like scrambling at the stone walls of a room continually closing in on her from all sides — it's feeling like she may need to give up on this impulsive push to make pal hate her. )

I could have done something different. I didn't want to do any of it. ( i didn't want this, she'd told dante wallace just before shooting him through the heart. who we are and who we need to be to survive are very different things, bellamy had told her just after they'd tortured lincoln. clarke's throat seizes and her voice breaks. ) I don't — like what the world made me into, Pal. But you saw me in October with Jinx, I don't know how to do anything different.

Jinx murdered your best friend. It’s a perfectly reasonable circumstance to go off half-cocked.

And besides, you didn’t hurt her. If that was only because there were other people to stop you—well, that’s the point, isn’t it? None of us is one thing, Clarke. And none of us are alone.

[Clarke is trying to avoid his gaze, and he takes a moment to lock eyes with her.]

I hate what the world made you be. Wanheda [he says the word like it tastes badly in his mouth] If I thought it would do any good, I’d gladly cut a path through everyone who turned you into her. [A pause] and perhaps she will always be a part of you. But that isn’t all you are.

( 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.

I would have stopped you both, if it came to that.

[And Palamedes allows himself the briefest moment to mourn Mizuki, who was odd, and slightly insane, and somehow terribly sweet. Whatever his faults, and he had some particularly strange faults, he had been a friend. He certainly had not deserved the fate of being turned into fuel for the Captain’s magic.

He exhales quietly and, for a moment, closes his eyes.] I don’t like it, either. I wish you could be the girl who dreamed about homesteading [the tiniest flicker of a smile—does she remember?] but none of us can go back to the past. Not to our childhoods, or Mount Weather, or Canaan House. We can only accept what happened, and acknowledge our part in it. Feeling sorry for yourself won’t help. The people you killed don’t deserve that, and neither do the people you saved.

And as for the present—we are at war, no matter what some people say. Whatever battles we may have gone looking for in the past, we were forced into this one. [He cups her face.] We need warriors, Clarke. We need strategists, and healers, and diplomats, too. Thank goodness you happen to be all of that and more.

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i tried ( memshare event )

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cw: mizuki???? idk, cannibalism mention?

mizukiiiii