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

[hellonspectacles]

Grounders.

[Palamedes pushes himself to his feet and straightens, peering into the darkness and the horrors that await them within it. Grounders. The descendants of humans who had somehow survived the destruction of Earth. He remembers Clarke mentioning Grounders, always in tones half-wary, half-admiring.]

But why—


[Before Pal can speculate, though, he sees the flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, and some medical instinct kicks him. Setting aside the mystery for now, he hurries to the cage to investigate and kneels beside it. At first glance, the person inside appears dead, and it is somehow more horrifying to realize that they are breathing.]

Clarke. [The name has the air of an order to it, polite though his voice remains.] See if you can find some water for these people.

[skaikru]

( she hears him, and water's a good idea but — like pretty much any other time anyone's tried to boss clarke around when she doesn't want to be, this iteration also mostly ignores pal's suggestion. there's a strange pull in the back of her ribcage, a need to investigate and understand that compels her feet forward down the aisle between cages. the men and women behind bars groan and moan, wheeze and maybe try to beg but the words come out unintelligible. hands reach out, brushing the edge of her yellow hospital gown or the edges of her yellow hair. the shadow of a large industrial fan makes its dutiful rotations on the ground, and the further back in the room they look, the more cages they'll see; stacked on each other in pyramids and rows. some occupants are half dead, some are possibly entirely dead. some still have some fight in them, and plenty are scared — like the monsters of legends have finally manifested from the shadows to eat them alive.

clarke doesn't realize she's looking for familiar faces — for any survivors from the dropship camp, or the ark crashdown sites — until she sees one. the woman is bruised and bloodied, almost beyond recognition in the dim green light of the laboratory. but when she raises her head ever so slightly and they lock eyes... )

Anya? ( quietly gasped, and she's immediately crouching beside the lower level cage and twining her fingers around the bars. anya kom trikru blinks at her, bedraggled but still very much alive and angry. but also a little surprised.

the sky people and the grounders are not on good terms. they'd just been at war, bellamy had shot anya less than two weeks ago. but determination settles in the pit of clarke's stomach the second she'd seen her, and now — now she remembers palamedes is here too. )

I know her. Help me. ( which isn't a very specific call to action, but the meaning can probably be inferred by the way she's suddenly yanking on the master lock holding the cage closed. )

[hellonspectacles]

[Clarke doesn’t follow his instructions—shocker—but the need for water remains, and after a moment Pal rises again and goes searching. In one dark corner there’s an industrial sort of sink, and when he turns the tap, water spits out. Now he needs a receptacle; he finds a steel bowl that probably isn’t entirely clean, but will serve the appropriate purpose, and fills it up.

By now, Clarke has found Anya and is rattling at the lock, and Pal is hurrying back. The woman in the cage looks at him with her sunken, suspicious eyes, but she isn’t so proud that she turns away when he tries to tip the water into her mouth through the bars.]

Hitting it isn’t going to help, you know. [This is directed at Clarke’s thus-far unsuccessful effort to break the lock by force.] Let me see.

[skaikru]

( on some level, it's really nice not being alone in the pits of actual human depravity, otherwise affectionately known as hell. on the other hand, she immediately wants to argue with palamedes that she knows hitting and yanking on the lock won't yield any results, even if the metal is 100 years old. there's just no time for that, and as he rejoins her and takes over, she moves to get out of the way.

at least, after a second. a weighted moment is spared in this desperate breakout attempt to look anya in the eyes and promise with conviction she doesn't own: ) I'm going to get you out of here.

( but then she's on her feet, and gives palamedes room to look. while he does whatever he's about to do, she's off to the side — setting her sights on a piece of pipe that encloses some wiring under an outlet, and summarily ripping it off the stone wall. )

[hellonspectacles]

[It’s probably a good thing that Clarke walks away; that means that Pal doesn’t need to explain what he does next. He takes a small knob of bone out of his pocket and, as he rubs it between his thumb and forefinger, it elongates and grows the teeth of a key. It’s nothing fancy, but neither is the lock in question.

He inserts the glorified lock pick into the keyhole and fiddles with it, frowning faintly. It’s not like Pal knows much of anything about locks, and there’s always a chance this won’t work. But just as he is about to give up on his little experiment, he hears a click and grins.]

Gotcha.

[skaikru]

( clarke's returned, pilfered metal pipe in hand, just in time to hear the click and subsequent jangling of the lock being taken off. she also hears the prideful gotcha sighed under pal's breath, and while she didn't see exactly what happened enough of this is sufficiently suspicious that she pauses. )

How did you...

( — and then thinks better of asking questions. at least right now. the gate of the cage swings open, and anya sags with it, as if leaning on the metal mesh link was all that was keeping her upright. clarke immediately reaches to grab the woman's arm, and sets her feet in preparation to haul her out, sling a bandaged and bleeding arm around her shoulder and figure the rest out from there.

but then comes... the familiar twirling sound of mechanics. the sound of the keycard lock to the laboratory door unlatching with high enough access credentials. and the heavy metal door itself beginning to heave open. she has two seconds to think, and no concrete thoughts form in that time, so it's all left to instinct. with one hand she shoves anya back into her cell, and with the other she finds the back of palamedes' neck, pushing him in after the grounder. there isn't enough room for all three of them — two is already pushing it — so with very little time to spare, clarke scrambles to the end of the cell block. crouches down immediately behind the last bottom level cage, trusting her shadow to be hidden by those of the captured grounder masses. her heart is hammering, and she puts a hand over her mouth in an effort to stifle the sound of her erratic breathing.

dr. lorelei tsing walks in alone. she is obviously unbothered by the stink of fearful humans, or the blood-let bodies still suspended from the ceiling. she crosses to a freezer and opens the small panel door to fetch a bag or two of blood. and around them all, the grounders come to life all over again — a heaving mass of humanity behind bars, groaning in anger, groaning like they're begging. frenzied, while half starved and heavily drugged.

and they must be louder than usual. or else there's something desperate and palpable in the air, because the good (horrid) doctor doesn't just leave. her attention is caught by those low animal noises, and she starts walking towards the lines of cages. )

[hellonspectacles]

[Everything happens so fast, Pal doesn’t have a chance to respond. One moment he is helping pull the woman from the cage to her feet, the next moment they are both being manhandled back into the cage. It takes Pal a second to realize what’s going on, that someone new has entered this horrifying laboratory and is striding towards them.

Anya leaps to the bars with her fellows, screaming and pounding with the energy of someone who may have nearly lost their body and their mind, but not their fury. Pal crouches behind her, partly hidden in shadow, silent and breathing hard.

Pal recognizes the doctor. He has seen her around, exuding the sort of calm confidence and detached sympathy that, as a member of Sixth House, he has been raised to admire. Now, as she surveys this room of horror with that same calm, his disgust is great enough that he nearly joins in the screaming.]