[Jade has never been much for lingering at memorials himself, really. One gains a reputation for picking through corpses, and suddenly people give you the most interesting looks the moment you stray anywhere near hallowed grounds for the deceased in general. --At least back home, anyway. Granted, that particular bit of luggage does not weigh half so heavily in this place, save for the few who have witnessed those past deeds...and so it's not exactly as if anybody's stopped him from stepping among the carefully placed items. But even before he'd vanished, Jade had never frequented this area of the ship much; sentimentality does not often seize him in that sort of way. Today isn't actually a particular exception, either...
But, of the same mind as Clarke: his possessions have been understandably scattered, and he's perhaps a bit curious as to where some of them had ended up. A more morbid curiosity, yes, bringing him here...and in the end he'd even found something, after all. A few sheafs of notebook paper, held in place with a rappig sticker, with narrow writing about a cause he'll no longer be able to pursue himself.
...Not terribly useful, in the grand scheme of things. Jade still isn't entirely sure why he'd plucked sticker off the pages in the end, and now holds them loosely folded in hand, as he moves back towards the outer bounds of the memorial. But the odd feelings and odd thoughts that settle, in the wake of essentially surveying his own metaphorical grave--
--Are sidetracked, by the familiar face he spots across the way. Jade's steps draw to a halt.]
...Ah, that's the one you made at the camp, is it not?
[The bracelet, he means. The question is cheerily conversational enough, as if it weren't being fielded over a scatter of abandoned possessions all around them.]
iii d; uuh vaguely within the timeframe where clarke hasn't been stabbed for hippo breath yet????
But, of the same mind as Clarke: his possessions have been understandably scattered, and he's perhaps a bit curious as to where some of them had ended up. A more morbid curiosity, yes, bringing him here...and in the end he'd even found something, after all. A few sheafs of notebook paper, held in place with a rappig sticker, with narrow writing about a cause he'll no longer be able to pursue himself.
...Not terribly useful, in the grand scheme of things. Jade still isn't entirely sure why he'd plucked sticker off the pages in the end, and now holds them loosely folded in hand, as he moves back towards the outer bounds of the memorial. But the odd feelings and odd thoughts that settle, in the wake of essentially surveying his own metaphorical grave--
--Are sidetracked, by the familiar face he spots across the way. Jade's steps draw to a halt.]
...Ah, that's the one you made at the camp, is it not?
[The bracelet, he means. The question is cheerily conversational enough, as if it weren't being fielded over a scatter of abandoned possessions all around them.]