come_sailaway | ( january open post ) hello, hello, hello

Entry tags:

( january open post ) hello, hello, hello

Who: clarke griffin & you!
What: Sometimes couples therapy is you, your ex, and the person you both befriended.
When: (gestures vaguely at mid-late january)
Where: all over, like her own personal "welcome back" tour!
Warnings: none of note, will add as needed

i. i'm waking up at the start of the end of the world ( meta )

( something something falling in love is like falling asleep; slowly, and then all at once. except the last time clarke griffin remembers falling either in love or asleep, it'd been more akin to running five miles while already exhausted and promptly crashing on the first viable surface. waking up is easier, gentler. for the first time in a long time she hadn't been dreaming of bleeding out on sandy grass, or melting into the floor with grief in the middle of the labyrinth, or burning alive, or (insert ship or canon based trauma here). in fact, she hadn't been dreaming about anything. it's honestly quite refreshing.

the scratch of the couch is familiar. the ceiling in every single one of these identical cabins is familiar. and as she shifts and stretches with a slight groan it doesn't even register that the far wall is missing the carefully curated murder-board plastered above the desk. and that there's not a dozen prepacked go-bags stacked in every inch of extra space. and that she maybe isn't alone, or at least isn't alone with ruby rose. but give her a few seconds to blink the sleep out of her eyes and really focus, and the mask of relaxation that almost makes her look her age will vanish in favor of those well-worn worry lines.

then comes the "all at once", because clarke's sitting up. then immediately trying to stand up, only to discover her legs are the consistency of jelly from disuse, and thus collapsing gracelessly between the couch and the coffee table. absolutely donks her elbow pretty good on the edge of the table and now has to deal with the violent sensory feedback of the funny bone nerves running haywire across her stale spinal cord while trying to get her bearings as well. in the end, with a swell of disorientation that sounds a lot like waves crashing against her ear drum, she makes a rather graceless exit. )

ii. but it's feeling just like every other morning before ( cabins | closed )

a. natsuno yuuki
( immediately outside the cabin she pauses to read the number plaque beside the door frame. 113? what an odd place to end up; she can't even remember who occupied that room, the active list of ship occupants somewhat abandoned months (and months) ago. but it's not that far from what she'd still (begrudgingly) consider home. it's just a few paces, and slipping through the side hall between laundry and elevators to be back on the side with even cabin numbers. there's an initial instinct that demands she not be seen in this harried state of confusion and mild distress that has clarke keeping her head low and footsteps swift. at the door of 108 she's fishing out her shiptalk phone and scanning it against the lock, not even waiting for the telltale sound of the lock unlatching. just immediately reaching for the handle and coming up short when it rattles but doesn't give way.

what the hell?

but it's okay. it will be okay. and she's got a near immediate secondary plan of action.

back past the laundry and elevators, and raising a fist to hammer impatiently on the door of cabin 109, clarke swallows any embarrassment that flares up at the idea of recounting hey i woke up in a strange room and can't get into my own, help as she waits for natsuno to answer the door. she fidgets, bouncing on the balls of her feet in preparation to take off down the hall and hunt him down if he doesn't answer at all. )

b. rita mordio
( and after being clued in the fact that she's been locked out of her room because she'd been gone for four months, a lot of things shift around inside her skull. a new perspective forms, patchwork and full of holes; so much could happen in four months. eventually she'll extricate herself from natsuno, promising (promising) to see him again later. and most of her attention is diverted to making a mental list of items to immediately shop & pilfer the infirmary for, as this new segment of life on board the serena eterna means starting over essentially from scratch. thus far the list goes: sundries, bric n brac, also breakfast i'm so damn hungry right now. and then, maybe belatedly, oh, my other friends.

oh, rita.

rita who is right here, just across the hall from 109.

when raising her fist to knock on the other girls door, clarke briefly remembers how early it must be. there are no windows in the hallway to clue her in on if the sun has risen or not yet, but any other time she'd died the wakeup call had been a rude 6:00am. it's maybe 7 by now? is vanishing akin to dying? who even knows, and yeah, kinda feels like it. but there's not even enough time to properly descend into the mental depths of why did i come back and not some of the others — before the door slides open and she's preemptively holding up both palms. )

Okay, don't freak out but apparently I'm ba—

iii. now i wonder what my life is gonna mean if it's gone ( so open!!! )

( past tearful, high pitched reunions, clarke slots right back into well trodden pathways throughout the ship, head swimming. a good chunk of the people she's met in life both here and on earth would likely give a kidney to "start over", but in this reality she's found that building ones life from scratch is a major headache. there's a rolling list of places to visit, things to get, people to avoid or passively greet. there's the whole idea of reestablishing herself in a place that feels like it's worked into her bloodstream; such a familiar cage, now gone dusty in her absence. so much can change in four months, but! rusty survival skills prevail.

out of the corner of your eye, you may spot a familiar head of blonde hair darting among:

( a. ) the shops!! all of them get a pretty immediate visit from one clarke griffin as she seeks to remake her emergency stash go bags. she can be found on the floor. she can be seen in bric n brac, pulling a handful of novelty tote and drawstring bags off the hangers. or kneeling on the floor just past the checkout counter in sundries, shoving travel sized amenities and snacks into aforementioned bags. the infinite tommy bahama gets a visit too, where handfuls of socks and underwear meet the same fate as toiletries and she's haphazardly draped athletic gear over her shoulder for personal use.

(the infirmary gets robbed too, but she's in and out so fast — scalpels, a bone saw, gauze, needles, drugs — that it isn't a great spot to catch her. not even really worth the mention, unless you're fast.)

( b. ) or else playback, which is admittedly an entirely self serving, nostalgic stop. apparently there's a new addition to the teen area, and she spends more than a few seconds surveying the build-a-bear stuffing machine before systematically stepping on the pedal and wrapping rolls upon rolls of high grade polyester fiber around her knuckles. these could probably be useful.

another few careful, lengthy moments are spent at various arson sites from back on launch day, surveying the scorch marks like they're great works of art. and in whatever hallway maximilien had open fired on ari, clarke can briefly be found slotting fingers into the pitted bullet holes in the wall.

and then —

( c. ) she's been absolutely starving since she woke up, but had shoved that gnarled hunger to the back burner until later in the day, when it absolutely demands to be acknowledged. clarke takes a late 1pm lunch in stellar. it's a calculated choice, she can't remember ever seeing people flood to the fine dining area during its specified meal times. and she picks a table far off in the corner, shadows allowing the illusion of privacy whilst absolutely stuffing her face.

( d. ) it takes a bit of time to work herself up to visiting the memorial, but gritted teeth and the mental reminder she's done harder things in life means clarke doesn't allow herself to avoid the spot just because of the difficult emotions it might bring to the surface. she tries hard not to look at too many of the tokens placed in remembrance of the fallen. plenty of those who disappeared never came back, but the jury is out on if coming back is a gift or a dragged out curse.

but regardless of deeper meaning, clarke still feels resolutely naked without a weapon at her side. and as she hadn't asked where her gun and knife had ended up. maybe??? it'd be among the offerings here? (and if not, it's not as if she's above grave robbing but hopefully it doesn't come to that.) a great deal of effort is put into not focusing on the various artifacts spread around; a self imposed set of blinders settling over her eyes which only really alights upon a friendship bracelet stapled to a sketch page. when recognition hits, she rips that from the paper without much ceremony and spends an odd amount of time just running the pad of her thumb over the gently fraying fibers.

somewhat belatedly, and as a last act before vacating the scene like she'd just committed a crime, a remnant of hippo breath is also snatched up and plunged deep in the confines of a pocket. don't ask why, clarke genuinely has no explanation other than it called to her. )

iv. now it's over for me and it's over for you ( bridge | meta )

( even before her little impromptu, nonconsensual vacation it'd been a long time since clarke had hiked the stairwell all the way to the very top and parked herself outside that immovable door. what feels like ages ago, it'd been one of the first places on board the serena eterna she'd ever visited, and had kept a semi-constant vigil in those early days until it became obvious the captain was never going to open up and let them talk. maybe for others he'd materialize out front, and for even fewer select passengers (skulduggery pleasant and gal friday) they could step inside. but for clarke griffin the wheel had never turned, and it'd eventually been more a place to find silence and solitude than any real answers.

would things have played out differently if the captain had ever entertained her hostile negotiation intentions?

given everything, probably not.

whatever.

today it's a picnic venue. still so, so hungry after reawakening, clarke settles criss cross applesauce against the far wall and pulls out the freshly hoarded supply of sundries snacks from an inner pocket of her coat. pops pre-packaged trail mix while running through learned blood sigils just to make sure they were still fresh in the memory, or else humming to herself between chews of beef jerky. artificial evening eventually begins to color the sky... )

v. i believe the world is burning to the ground ( library )

a. open
( the last stop on this days venture is the one she'd purposefully avoided for as long as possible. the stacks still smell like thick pressed paper, leather bindings and leather armchairs, and the musk of mildly stale air. any signs of previous ship-wide vandalism are minimal, pretty much everything seems in good working condition, and...

and the chairs she and palamedes sextus spent so many hours occupying in quiet, mutual thought are unoccupied. they almost beckon, as much as any inanimate object can. and clarke's previous avoidance is well validated, as nothing seems as inviting in the moment as picking up a new book and curling into one of those chairs. she's heckin' tired after this full day of reacquainting herself with the world, and deposits various bags of acquired goods on the floor with a solid thump before taking up residence in a far corner chair. turns out being assigned a new cabin to sleep in was the worst shipwide betrayal of all, and — exhausted, but — with currently no plans to return to cabin 113 tonight she slinks down low and settles in. )

b. steve harrington
( clarke is halfway to dozing, huddled over a table and using her forearms as pillows when the sound of human life (footfalls, breathing, the rummaging through shelves) grates against the animal instinct dwelling in the back of her brain, and jerks her into an upright sitting position. one hand drops to her beltline but grasps at nothing — i still need to find a gun. never mind, there's still steak knives stolen from the dining areas stashed down by her ankles. but in the time it takes to reach for those implements of self defense, the cloud of sleep clears; the low lights of the library in its evening shroud still illuminate enough features, and her thoughts right themselves enough that recognition can works its way through surprise.

the shock comes in at last place, and has her half-rising — the scrape of chair legs against the floor high pitched and grating. )

I — Harrington?

( why is it so much more astounding to see this previously lost passenger back on board than to grasp the fact she'd been gone for a number of months herself? well, introspection on that bit requires a deep dive into how little one clarke griffin values her own importance. but also snakes back around to the fact it feels like a literal minute since she'd last been on board, and the several months he'd been gone take precedence.

also, maybe it's a little nice not to focus on her own vanishing for a second. maybe it's a little nice to see a familiar, non-hostile face. maybe, belatedly, a mild swell of hope will bloom in her chest that he won't be the only one. )

vi. oh well, i guess we're gonna find out ( ari )

( there's nothing quite like being laid up under witness protection, healing from grievous wounds and suddenly being texted by a ghost, is there? )

I'd like to speak with you.

vii. let's see how far we've come ( wild card )

( hit me, bitches. the girl is back, i'm hype for endgame, hmu for any specific plottings you'd like and let's dive back in! )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Rita doesn't keep the most regular schedule but at least this is a morning where she's--if not exactly awake and alert, she's up, anyway, and casting a considering eye towards the door like she's trying to decide whether or not the knock is worth answering. It's not something she really needs to deliberate, though, because it could be important. People don't normally knock on her door without a reason.

So it is that only a few seconds actually passes before she's opening the door, mid-yawn, a yeah, what's up on the tip of her tongue, though at the sound of Clarke's voice, her mouth just--opens and stays that way for a moment as sleepiness rapidly evaporates from her head, the one sign this isn't a weird dream since surely she'd wake up otherwise.]

Huh...you're...? But you--

[Apparently Jade just coming back too still hasn't primed her for how to react to seeing someone she though as good as dead, so after her mouth works silently a couple more times, she finally reaches to grab for Clarke's arm and yank her into the cabin, at the same time raising a shrill voice-]

You got some...some nerve, you know!

( she has seen rita react to multiple crises and sudden reveals, on some level clarke feels like she's got a good beat on how to handle this. the door opens, the initial don't freak out is cut off by rita's initial confusion. she holds up both hands, palms out, the universal i come in peace sign mixed with a little bit of ta-dah, look who didn't die for permanent. then she tries again — )

I know. Technically I died, but who ever really dies for real on this sh —

( only to be grabbed about the elbow and yanked aggressively over the threshold of 110. either through mismatched center of gravities, being caught completely unaware by the sudden jerk, or rita's sudden rush of emotion caused super strength, clarke's stumbling and pretty easy to haul inside. she doesn't put up any sort of a fight, except one against gravity to prevent bouncing off the walls or falling onto the entryway carpet. doesn't even wrench her arm from rita's grasp to cover both ears when the inevitable screaming starts; just winces and weathers it. )

I'm sorry! It's not like I disappeared on purpose!

[Yeah, she understands on some level after seeing Jade's reaction just how weird it must be to be on the other side of this equation--the one coming back from the dead, more or less--the way Clarke tries to raise her hands and calmly explain, though, it just...has her about ready to scream don't be so casual about it (not that a freakout would be any better--ultimately, there is no way for this interaction to be any kind of normal no matter how they go about it).

But Clarke answers, and Rita kicks the door shut behind her, at the same time as she shrieks an emphatic-]

I know! It's not your fault, you--you jerk!

[And just to add to the mixed messages, she proceeds to aggressively grab the front of Clarke's shirt and haul her in for an abrupt, tight hug.]

You can't just--vanish after--after all that time, after we finally-

[Finally connected, finally built some kind of semi-friendly relationship. This feels a lot like their parting in the labyrinth, an upset hug with tears already starting to form, even if it's also the opposite--a return instead of a goodbye.]

( the only good part about natsuno getting the short end of the stick with his frenzied and relieved hug all of thirty minutes ago is that not clarke has the proper context for why she's being dragged in and subjected to crushing arms around her. now she understands, and there's barely a split second passed between them before clarke is wrapping her arms around rita's shoulders in turn.

after we finally —

yeah. yeah, there's a lot of weight in that unfinished sentiment that even she can't properly put into words right now. but the idea that once upon a time they'd done nothing but spit vehemence at one another and have now somehow come to this? where clarke is on the receiving end of rita's screaming not because of hostility but because she was genuinely missed, her loss felt deeply? )

I'm sorry, ( is all she can think to say. at significantly lower a volume, maybe even lost amidst the other girl's outspoken emotion. but she repeats it over and over, until it sticks. ) I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I won't do it again.

[She never thought of herself as a hug person. There's something still deeply embarrassing about it too, when it's not with Natsuno, but--at the same time, she can't deny that it's...nice. Short of smacking someone, it's about the most solid indicator that Clarke is really here and alive, and it lasts a lot longer than a punch, too.

Anyway, Clarke hugs her back, and everything feels even more real than it already did when Rita was dragging her into the cabin, and somehow her arms just end up squeezing even tighter around the other girl, almost in protest against the next words that come out of her own mouth.]

You know you can't promise that!

[How many times has she wished they could? Wished she could reassure Natsuno she'd never disappear and leave him alone here... Nevertheless, she buries her face in Clarke's collarbone and finally stops screeching, at least.]

But...if you can try...

( on the opposite end of the spectrum, clarke griffin has always been a hugger. it's a sign of affection that she arguably had a lot of when she was younger; a small, naïve child effectively sheltered against the harshness of her reality, with parents who loved and cherished her. easy affection like that became a little harder to come by on the ground, but in times of crisis or great relief her friends had always been there. showing up on the ship had been a rocky fresh start, and it hadn't been until after the battle royale that she'd deigned to even try hugging natsuno. understandably, he had not hugged her back at the time.

and while they'd become intermittently more common between palamedes, natsuno, mizuki, and bellamy's brief appearance, overall...

let's just say this is nice. way nicer than hugging jade in the waiting room. clarke will not be the first one to let go here, and when the other girl presses her face into her collarbone, clarke turns her head and lets her cheek rest amidst the other girls hair. real and tangible and smelling oh so strongly of whatever components make up just rita.

now better understanding the weight behind the desperation of this hug, clarke can feel the heat prickle behind her eyes. but resolves not to cry; she didn't miss anyone for months on end this time, it's not her place. )

Can we meet in the middle? Say "I'll do my best"?

[If ever asked, Rita would never admit it out loud, but yes: she finds Clarke is a damn good hugger. (She still prefers Natsuno's hugs for obvious reasons, but she'll at least admit to herself that this one's pretty nice.) Clarke's always kind of surprised her with that unpexpected caring side--first seen when she was being gentle with Jade and Natsuno after they tumbled back onto the ship from the diner portal. That really feels like forever ago, now--and not particularly important anyway, because now their relationship has changed so much, and she likes it better this way.]

......I suppose...I'll accept that.

[She doesn't sound particularly reluctant. It is the best she can ask of anyone, so she'll hold Clarke to that, at least. Besides, she's never known Clarke not to try.

She's not doing the embarrassing amount of sobbing into Clarke's front that she did in the labyrinth, but there's still no stopping a few tears from soaking into the other girl's shirt. After everything they'd been through, after finally finding Clarke a comfortable and reliably staple in her life, finding her gone was just...painful.]

You know, it just--wasn't the same without you.

( it is some sort of suffocating, to be loved and have been missed this vividly. it takes a minute for those few errant tears to seep into the fabric of her shirt and paint wet little spots of misery and relief on her skin, but when they do the hot pressure behind clarke's eyes intensify. unconsciously she finds herself rubbing circles between rita's shoulder blades and

trying to minimize. )

Come on. I'm sure you got into plenty of trouble without me to drag you into it.

( it's a lil' cheeky, a bit of a joke. maybe??? she still doesn't have a full scope of the destruction to the ship, suffering of its inhabitants, or the full-scale upheaval of the rocket just yet. )

[It's weird, how Clarke's touch on her back can be both--soothing and upsetting at the same time. Emotions are hard! She doesn't know what to feel beyond relief that they even get to have this moment.

Between that and Clarke's attempt at a joke, Rita tries to say something, and--the words just won't quite come, the sound she can make for a moment a couple of choked-back sobs, before finally-]

You--you jerk. You're supposed to get into trouble with us.

[Rita can't put into words just how much and how painfully Clarke was missed, and it's probably just as well. She doesn't need to know how Rita and Natsuno were left wondering if they should have submitted themselves to torture earlier, if that might have provided some energy to keep her tethered.

Or that maybe that's exactly how it went. They put themselves into the Village, and now Clarke and Jade are both back... Are they going to sign up for excursions? Volunteer for torture to stick around a little longer?

....Rita suddenly finds her mind wandering to the letter about the red string.]

( in the end, it's probably best that it isn't spelled out for her exactly how her friends minds wandered. it'd be a short road to heartbreak, to truly know the depths of their suffering. and a line of thought she'd want to correct, regarding the suffering of the village. no, don't think like that, it isn't true, the torture isn't fair and doesn't equal good things. this is how they convert you.

but certain things are not said out loud here. and thus neither have to truly ruminate on them. rita drifts off towards relevant string theory, clarke just stills her hand between the other girls shoulder blades to the point she can feel every notch of vertebra and sighs heavily. )

Well, I'm a little late on the uptake. But I'd guess there's still plenty of trouble to be had.

[She knows it could just be a coincidence, that a correlation doesn't necessarily indicate causation, that she could very well just be trying to see a pattern where there is none. And yet--she wants there to be a pattern, because then at least it wouldn't just be down to random, unpredictable chance, something they could never hope to have any say or control over. She doesn't want them to have go and think they need to keep torturing themselves either, though, which is where the red string shoves itself to the forefront of her mind.

Rita at least feels her breathing evening out enough to think she won't erupt into further gross crying, and even enough to give a little huff at Clarke's question--more wet, tired sigh than amused snort.]

I won't deny that. Natsuno filled you in--you did see Natsuno already, right?

[Like, Rita's pretty certain Clarke would beeline for him long before coming to her cabin, but she still finally lifts her face enough to peer questioningly up. Natsuno missed you like hell so you'd better have talked to him.]

( it's honestly best that rita reels her head back enough to look up at clarke after that unfounded accusation — saves her from having to shove the other girl at arms length and level her with a scowl because, of course she's already seen natsuno. as it stands, clarke still has her arms wrapped around rita and only some of the deeply offended reaction scrawls across her features. )

Who else do you think I'd run to first thing after finding out I was locked out of my old room?

( old room still feels weird to say. time had come and passed when she'd come to call 108 home; if not comforting, at least safe and fully stockpiled with items she'd picked up along their torrid journey. but the sentiment remains; he's rita's boyfriend and clarke's best friend. who else would either of them run to during hard times? were they not still loosely holding each other, she would have shoved the shorter woman (gently of course, but with a firmness that demanded she shut up and banish any other idea from her mind) but as things stand clarke just ends up snorting lighting in rita's face.

then sighing. )

Yeah. Yeah, he told me a bit. I still have... so many questions. It's hard to believe so much time has passed. I swear, Rita, it feels like I just went to sleep yesterday and woke up four months later.

Hey--I know, I'm just making sure.

[A little huff on Rita's end too, but...old room. It makes sense to Rita, but it must feel pretty strange for Clarke. After a moment, Rita nods; she gets it, as much as she can.]

Yeah, I know. It was like that for Jade, too. [Which sparks a thought, suddenly-] You know, I think you're actually handling it better than him.

( for what it's worth, clarke doesn't particularly feel like she's handling this all that well. it might not be the world-ending upheaval of the first time she'd woken up on the serena eterna entirely, and she might seem a little detached and ambivalent on the outside, but things just haven't really set in yet. at least not all the right things. returning means others might too, and maybe she'd see the likes of mizuki and bellamy and venti and palamedes again. four months in the nothing wasn't supposed to be restful, but at the end of the day she doesn't remember a second of the supposed suffering, and the long nap beat the manic way she'd been ruining herself while on board (Hot Girl Summer had decidedly not been sustainable). and yes, she sees the hurt and relief on her friends faces, but is it wrong to also feel a little invincible right now?

if it is, being told she's handling things better than the famed jade curtiss certainly doesn't help deflate the ego. )

Really? Don't tell me this is what finally broke his composure.

[Sure, it's possible that after the initial surprise wears off and reality settles in, things could change--but even if that happens, Rita wagers that Clarke is still looking far less off-kilter than Jade. Maybe it didn't help that he was told he'd been essentially declared permanently dead, but anyway-]

Yeah, he seriously looks like he's seen a ghost. [Or is the ghost.] He was even offering to let me pummel him--can you imagine?

( clarke barely contains a derisive snort, because it's not like she'd ever asked before pummeling jade curtiss. but...

yeah. yeah, that does seem wildly out of place for him. not a full on break in the veneer of composure, but certainly a crack in which regret may be slipping through and demanding punishment. huh. )

It's hard to picture, but I can see it.

( ... )

You absolutely punched him, didn't you.

[Asking before pummelling him would just make it weird. Punch first, have feelings later is clearly the best way to cope with things, right? Anyway, Clarke pegs Rita's actions, and her face goes just slightly red.]

Well--yeah, but that was before he offered himself as a punching bag. He just showed up out of nowhere--what else was I supposed to do?!

[Not said: that Rita spotted him from afar and ended up tackling him right to the floor. Who showed up to surprise who there?]

( ultimately, it feels right that rita got the drop on jade in the end. but none of that changes clarke's logic as she tilts her head and slightly squints at the other girl. )

I don't know, not punch your friend?

( big hypocrite here, seeing as clarke's socked jade curtiss on site... is it three times now? but also noting that she got a hug out of this reunion, and that feels miles more appropriate. )

Sh--shut up, like you wouldn't do the same thing!

[Okay like she doesn't actually know exactly what Clarke would do in that situation but punching would be a viable option, at least!!

Anyway, despite her huff, she can't actually be as annoyed as she might pretend. Because it feels like a miracle that they get to have this banter at all.]

Hmmm... ( yeah, she can't quite disagree, can she... ) I did clock him with a book after the island...

( but whatever, it's another classic case of "do as i say, not as i do" advice. and also doesn't really matter.

what little space they've allowed themselves to drift apart in order to converse is closed again in a sudden all encompassing hug. this time clarke's initiating, just one more tight squeeze — real, tangible, solid and warm — before taking a full and proper step back. )

So. Tell me everything I missed. From your perspective.

[Ha. See? She finally manages an almost-triumphant snort as the emotional rollercoaster starts to calm down--or so she thinks, because now she's getting bundled into a bear hug, and--dammit, that's not fair, don't just do that and then step back!! Rita stands there awkwardly a moment after Clarke disengages, but finally satisfied she's not going to cry like a baby again, motions to the couch. Not that it's a long story, though...]

From my perspective... You already heard from Natsuno, right? It was about the same as always, just...you know... [Without her, and without Jade, and therefore events always had that extra shroud of misery hanging over them. Missing their friends, and wondering when it would be their turn... Anyway, pretending everything was all very casual, she quickly summarizes.] We went on one of those excursions, it was about as expected, and we launched a rocket outside the barrier. There wasn't anything else to miss.

( following the unspoken invitation, clarke crosses to the couch and settles in with ears perked and eyes bright. and yeah, she's heard all of this before and was honestly hoping for something a little more in-depth and revealing — maybe they'd turned over more stones, maybe they'd discovered more secrets, maybe somebody had fucked up sigils again or they'd learned something new about the captain and sparkles — but it's still good just to catch up.

her and natsuno had talked about a lot, and in the end most of it hadn't had to do with the ship. )

Okay, well — tell me more about the rocket?

[The only sigil "incidents" Rita's aware of were in fact her own genius, so Clarke may yet get to hear about them if Rita remembers. For now, though, she sits cross-legged at the other end of the couch.]

Hmm... Apparently Sparkles found it somewhere, though I heard it was originally something else--like a probe launched for gathering data? Anyway, I guess it would normally have been attached to and launched by the type of rocket you're probably familiar with, but we designed magic propulsion to send it off instead. Then it was just a matter of making sure Friday and the Captain were distracted enough so it could get through.

( rita says probe and clarke's brow furrows for a second — did voyager turn into a space probe? is the little boy okay? — but figures that would have been mentioned in more detail had it been the case. there is still a healthy distrust of sparkles so like, not completely written off, but if it could transform them into inanimate objects that probably would have been the go-to instead of the labyrinth, right? moving on — )

How'd you guys manage that?

[Luckily(?) Rita doesn't know it was actually Voyager's corpse or she'd be feeling far different about the probe (ie, creeped and grossed out!!), but yes, some healthy hesitation over working with Sparkles was definitely had, even as it did ultimately help them get the whole thing done.]

The distraction? Oh, they staged a pretend mutiny--there were posters and everything encouraging people to go wild, so... [A hint of guilt makes Rita pause, remembering the state Friday was in. They may have overdone it...] And...you don't want to know the rest.

[Nevermind that Clarke will find out about skulcap sex details before the day is out, but anyway.]

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