END GAME: THE COUNTDOWN STARTS

[sailmods]

[the prisoners wake up on cold, hard floors.

the lights are bright, glaring, a sterile cell with sterile bars facing a sterile hall. the prisoners with you, across from you, and no one else. no rocking of a ship in waves, nothing. just the prisoner and their prison.

time passes, one assumes. the rhythmic click of Friday’s heels down the hall. it’s almost like the ticking of a clock.]

Comments

[not_the_last]

Cassandra breathes out, and doesn't say anything for a moment.

"I wish she'd talked to the rest of us first. But it's done. Whatever happens ... I still think we were right to try."

[neverleave]

He wishes Clarke had talked to him before go-time. Knowing that the thing possessing Valdis didn't give her any time hardly makes it better.

"I think so too. The realm was dying. Nobody wanted this... but we're going to fix it."

It's not optimism but stubbornness, the grim determination of someone who will see things through no matter what.

"When you get out of here, can you tell Clarke what you told me? Speak up for her."

[not_the_last]

"I'll do what I can," she says, still low. "I don't know who will listen to me."

It's bitter, the awareness that her voice doesn't count for anything with some, for good or ill. She's grown used to it, somewhat.

"I hope she will, at least."

[neverleave]

"Me too. She's the one who needs it the most."

Screw everyone else. Of course, he'd rather Cassandra succeeds in getting people to listen, but Clarke has to know she's not alone.

"If we find where our stuff is... is there anything of yours we can use? Or something we can bring back?"

[not_the_last]

"If you have time to bring anything back ... my armor. My daggers. I don't think I have -- wait." She does some quick mental math, then nods. "There's a ring that I can use to get smaller. I think enough so to get out through the bars. For using yourself, though -- look for a rusty iron ball, it turns into binding chains. Throw it at the target and say the word manners."