come_sailaway | APRIL EVENT PART 2: GUABANCEX

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APRIL EVENT PART 2: GUABANCEX

[it's around midnight, at the very start of the 13th, that the first wave rocks the ship.

winds howl against the windows, pushing the integrity of the glass. near-constant lightning lights up the sky like day, even with the punishing fall of rain, coming down in sheets of unnaturally icy water. it's not the only thing falling from the sky, though: shapes that anyone who has seen them can recognize as pretty much every piece of furniture on decks six and seven, tossed into the sea by the wrath of the storm. apparently. kinda. it's complicated.

should, for some reason, a person's first instinct during crisis be to check in on what Friday is up to, she is not at her usual spot at guest services at all. she is, in fact, on the sports deck, where she has been since she first scented the sharp ozone of Jenny's always inevitable shedding of her mortal form. she's clutching to a railing as a particularly strong (and almost targeted) gust of wind nearly throws her off the deck. she's shouting, probably, but it can't be heard over the storm.

Jenny is about still recognizable as herself, though being about 15 feet taller than normal is a little off-putting at first. expansive waves of her hands bring lightning from the sky and water from the ocean, both of which she uses to bombard the door to the bridge, which, as per usual, stays stubbornly closed. at least she only really seems mad at--]

Release them, liar! Cheat! I'll bring this whole realm down with me! I should have killed us all years ago!

[haha no this is very much a "you" problem. so. should probably. get. on that.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( not actively looking for him among the bedraggled survivors doesn't mean clarke's eyes don't track every 5'7" man with dark hair and a perpetually impassive expression. there's... actually not a lot of them on board here, and clarke is perpetually let down without fully realizing why. it's been a few hours since the storm outside finally quelled; long enough for her to make her way back to the serena eterna alongside jinx, venti, ebalon, and anyone else mizuki inevitably decided to yeet onto jenny's galleon. enough time that she's been able to corner their would-be murderer, and get in a few more questions about their situation before the god-turned-back-into-a-woman departed. long enough for the adrenaline to start waning; for her bruises to start aching, for the cold of being sea-drenched and out in the wind for so long to set in, for exhaustion to creep in and turn her legs to jelly.

the atrium is a mess of crab legs and partially broken furniture. all the grandeur of the ship doesn't look so grand when it's in wet shambles, and clarke doesn't look forward to making the trek back to her cabin to deal with the mess there. she's crowded around a partially broken couch, strongly debating just laying down for a few minutes when... finally.

out of the corner of her eyes, clarke catches a the familiar outline hobo-style fashonista. he's just drenched, slunk down on the floor with a wall at his back like he's trying to hide from the world, and honestly looking like absolute shit. forget the couch, she's teeth-gratingly limping over to natsuno and... well, once she's there, words don't feel appropriate. he's hunched over, covered in what looks a lot like weirdly pooled blood. she's staggering, bruises along her face and arms finally blossoming against her skin, and slathered in slime.

and they'd had a rather unfortunate last encounter. unkind things had been said, and that's entirely on clarke.

so instead of asking if she can sit beside him, clarke will ultimately just... press her shoulders to the wall. slink down the length of the wallpaper until they're sitting side by side, almost close enough for elbows to bump. when she finds her voice, it's hoarse: vocal chords scream-stretched and coated in salt water and bile. )

...hi.

[He feels like absolute shit, too, which is why he's camped in the atrium without even bothering to change his bloody clothes. He's exhausted and hungry, his body craving blood to replenish the energy spent on healing. Natsuno puts this off as much as he can, stubborn kid that he is, but he knows he'd have to ask the shades for blood soon. The thought disgusts him.

His eyes open at the sound of footsteps. Harsh words or not, Natsuno's just glad she survived this one. He has no doubt she was out there, recklessly throwing herself into to the thick of it.]

...hi.

[He looks her over, assessing. Clarke's just as pale as him now, bruised, covered in salt and - wait.]

...is that slime?

( on the list of things clarke hadn't noticed in the moment but was quickly becoming all too aware of... yes, looking down at her torso, that looked a lot like slime. ooze. goo. some oversized snail trail that's just now beginning to dry and make her shirt crunchy. it's probably in her hair and streaked along her neck; definitely all down her forearms and living under her fingernails.

gross. )

I'm not sure exactly what it is but... Yeah, it's slimy. Let's call it slime.

( then — it's not a question, but a ready observation when her own assessment zeros in on his dark stained clothing. )

...And that's blood. How badly are you hurt?

I'm not hurt.

[Anymore being the missing key word here. That's the explanation he gave everyone else who asked him about the blood, refusing to elaborate, content with letting them draw their own conclusions. Maybe he already found a healer, maybe he can heal himself.

Clarke knows what he is, though. She can hear the rest. Natsuno sighs.]

My body can recover from a lot of things.

( vampire lore may have been lacking in space, but some tidbits doubtlessly filtered through the generations of oral storytelling. the rest she's filling in as she goes, but his tirade about specifically stabbing him through the heart was telling.

clarke takes a beat, and then... just straight up invites herself into his personal space: reaching over to tug up the hem of his blood soaked shirt, just to make sure the skin beneath it isn't an oozing mess of flesh and exposed organs in need of tending. either natsuno deflects, or she sees unmarred flank and is satisfied enough to ask clarifying questions. )

But you still feel pain, right?

Edited 2022-04-22 05:59 (UTC)

Hey - back off -

[Ugh, he hates it when people get into his personal space (yes, she's worried and no, he's not going to reflect on the problems with his "first deny everything" coping mechanism). Natsuno moves her hand away, but pulls at the shirt on his own to show her it's just fine.

He falls quiet then, debating whether to answer, before admitting reluctantly:]

Yeah, unfortunately.

[He saw Tatsumi take a knife to the gut and multiple gunshots without slowing down or even flinching. Maybe it's because unlike Natsuno, he was drinking blood regularly, or maybe it was a power move. Either way - annoying.]

( it's no big task to swat away her hand — clarke even holds both hands up, palms out as a sign of non-threat, and gives a quick, sincere — ) Sorry.

( but yeah, she's worried. and maybe doesn't entirely trust him to give her an honest representation of what could be wrong. in this specific moment, it's enough that natsuno shows her his would-be wound, and clarke will swallow down any instinctive urges to prod and pry under the guise of medicinal concern. she just nods, shrugs half heartedly. )

Based on the amount of blood, it looks like it hurt.

( it feels like pushing the limits of their business-like script to tell him that she's sorry for his suffering, but it's implied. in her eyes, in her voice — i'm sorry you experienced that — and then clarke's leaning her head back, thunking the back of her skull gently against the wall and looking at the relatively unmarred ceiling of the atrium. )

Did you know Mizuki had —

( ...don't make her say tentacles. just look at the vague wiggly motion clarke makes with her fingers, connect the dots with the slime, and tell her she wasn't crazy and hadn't imagined it. )

...yeah.

[That explains the goo. At least it's not another inappropriately chipper, jellyfish abomination.]

Did he at least bother asking before picking you up?

[They say a trouble shared is troubled halved, but... the memory still burns with humiliation, of flying screaming through the air, and then asking Mizuki to do to it again because there wasn't another way to get back.]

( ...yeah, her interaction with him had been far from chipper. )

No.

( bitter bitter still so bitter. it's only been a few hours since she'd been screaming at mizuki to take her back so she could help flynn and whoever else was still alive on board the cruise liner. there's been a lot of yelling during the course of the storm, but the scratchy lilt to clarke's voice feels squarely mizuki's fault. )

He took me from the sports deck and launched us all the way onto Jenny's ship. And then he just left me there...

( to keep her safe, but it smacks of a different kind of humiliation than just being yeeted. taken out of the game, abandoned where she was useless, not being given a choice... )

[Natsuno raises an eyebrow. Just took her and then left? Mizuki may not act like a normal person, but he seemed to genuinely want to help. He grabbed Natsuno because he said he wanted to explore Jenny's ship - but he can't imagine Clarke evert expressing a desire to escape alone in an emergency.]

So he kidnapped you. [He frowns. The rage under her exhausted surface is clear enough.] How'd you get back?

Venti flew us all back once the storm had calmed.

( and yeah... actually, yeah, kidnapping is a great word for it. being dragged away from a fight had struck up a lot of similar emotions being dragged away from her own maybe-death had. only it somehow hurt all the more when it was someone she could put face to name for. thank you for this unintentional validation, natsuno, now to deftly switch to yet another topic — )

I ran into Palamedes out there too. On top of everything else, apparently he can make invisible shields out of nowhere. And I saw your roommate, too. He stopped me from being washed over the side, so...

( no hard feelings apparently? jade's cool enough when it's not in a pitch black room or when he stops talking just to hear his own voice. )

Edited (blegh) 2022-04-23 03:33 (UTC)

[Invisible shields? That's pretty impressive, especially since most of the passengers Natsuno considers worthy allies are ready to throw themselves headfirst into danger, fueled by reckless rage (himself included, of course).

As for his roommate - ]

I ran into Jade before he went outside. He helped me, too.

[Natsuno really wishes he hadn't, because it's another person figuring out just what kind of monster he is, but... he can begrudgingly appreciate the act itself.]

( what's more impressive is how absolutely out of his element pal had been while clarke had been dragging him upward the staircase in a desperate attempt to get to the top of the ship; how plainly he'd wanted to give up, but how insistently he'd kept going. turns out palamedes sextus isn't just useful, he's pretty in line with their end objective — reckless endangerment of one's self for the betterment of everyone else. oh, and he died before too. he'll fit right in.

and jade could be... every band of young adults need a chaperon, right? meanwhile, mizuki's in the dog house. )

Or at least tried to?

( a pointed look at all that blood just beginning to dry across his clothes. and it's equal parts invitation and challenge — clarke had told him how she ended up covered in slime (it's worse than slime, it's mucus) and feels it's only fair to know what had befallen natsuno. )

It wasn't his fault.

[That much he can admit. In hindsight, Natsuno would've been better off just accepting his offer to help him to a safer deck, but he couldn't stand the idea of someone risking their life for him when he could heal himself. But alas, Jade turned out a decent enough person to stick around...]

A sign fell in the promenade. He got it off of me.

[And, as evident by the hole in his shirt - out of him.]

Oh.

( crushing by promenade sign is one of the few types of death clarke's never encountered, and she squints a moment. trying to imagine it, the weight and the sound of the impact. and... yeah, that would absolutely kill a normal person, but natsuno's sitting right beside her. looking terrible, but coherent; more pallid than normal, but as alive as he could be.

more alive than she imagines jade would have expected, judging by the blood and rip in his shirt. )

...does he know?

[Dryly:] He knows something's up.

[Jade has suspected something was off from day one, when his arrival to 109 locked Natsuno out until he was granted invitation. Little snarky remarks about his weird habits, but nothing he could prove. Even now, he doesn't know whether Jade realizes all the dots connect to vampire.]

I imagine there will be a lot of questions.

...can I help with that in any way?

( not to be misconstrued; clarke takes no issue in the idea of her most trusted confidant being a vampire. maybe doesn't know entirely what it all means, but knows enough to at least know she doesn't care. also doesn't know why he held that secret so close to his chest when they were surrounded by magicians, faceless golems, gods, actual monsters like the captain, slimy jellyfish helpers/kidnappers, necromancers, and mass murderers, but... figures that's his own battle to wage.

and between the onset of the war and the end, she's here. offering to lie to jade curtiss about... anything, really. so long as it'd make natsuno's (after)life a little easier. )

[He thinks about it, frowning.]

...I don't know. Depends what he wants to ask.

[Aside from the obvious "so what in the actual fuck ARE you". A healing factor may not suspicious on its own, not on this ship, but with everything else...

He'll have to be as difficult as possible.]

Guess I can just tell him I'm "shiki." Not my problem if he doesn't know what it means.

[It's really quite lucky those vampires are pretentious weirdos.]

( As Difficult As Possible^TM. respect for your entire brand, natsuno. clarke even gives a light snort, then a half-shrug. )

That could work. I mean... We were just almost killed by an ancient storm god I've never heard of. This little pocket universe is full of new mysteries, and if he knows what's good for him, he won't stress himself out over it.

( but in the beat of silence following her statement, clarke has to wonder. what's so bad about being a vampire? she'd meant what she'd said before, of all the creatures on board the serena eterna, he wasn't the monster. with her back still pressed against the wall, clarke lets her head loll to the side, so she's looking at natsuno proper when asking: )

...but would it really be so bad? To tell him what shiki means?

( what are you scared of? )

[He's not looking at Clarke, staring straight ahead.]

What I am is my business. [He's not going to address the thorny mess that is his feelings on the subject. Better keep it buried under the ice.] Besides, most people don't take kindly to immortal creatures that can drink their blood. I don't want to look over my shoulder all the time.

[More than he already does.]

You told me.

( without knowing how she'd react; they'd never even really touched on the specifics of Clarke's feelings towards the supernatural other than general confusion and an acute loathing of the captain. he'd taken the risk once. )

Or was that really all just on the off chance it'd distract me from doing something stupid.

No.

[Some of it, yes. He admitted as much even back then. Natsuno turns to look at her, calm as ever.]

He's an annoying guy who shares my cabin and makes sarcastic comments. You are my friend.

Edited (LAST ONE oof) 2022-04-25 19:07 (UTC)

...you're mine too.

( it's not a great title, being clarke griffin's friend. it usually comes with a healthy side of pain and suffering, dashes of anger, and a finishing glaze of death and despair. but if she were going to make any new friends here, natsuno at least seemed... durable. )

I'm sorry, by the way.

( for before.

for reacting out of anger. for being mean in ways she was certain would hurt. for not listening, for pushing forward with stupid plan after stupid plan regardless. it feels like an ultimate betrayal, to have someone look you in the eye and express care, only to throw it back at their face. )

[He's had his share of suffering, anger and despair. That's nothing new. But at least he won't have to do it alone this time, in this messed-up afterlife.]

It's fine.

[It really is. That are worse things than cruel words said out of great distress.]

I'm glad you didn't go through with it, in the end.

Me too. It was stupid of me to even try... Besides, I got over, anyway. Eventually.

( a fraction quieter, like it smacks all the wrong ways to admit it out loud but — ) And it was a lot easier when I actually accepted help, so...

( and the thought is book-ended with a shrug, this being the closest clarke will come to admitting aloud that she was being a big dumb baby, both stupidly reckless and harmfully stubborn. and hey, maybe that can serve as a perfect transition into the next thought flitting through her head, because hey, accepting help is cool. the cool kids are doing it natsuno, maybe give it a try. )

I know your wound healed, but you don't look good. Do you need something for that?

( something. )

APRIL EVENT PART 2: GUABANCEX

trauma bonding ( closed | post hurricane jenny )

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