meadowlarklogs

Entry tags:

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WHO: Clarke Griffin + anyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: The very end of November 2511 into December 2511
WHAT: Returning from a canon update, reintegrating.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Likely references to loss of autonomy, death, bodysnatching without consent, and spoilers for the entirety of season 6 of The 100.

[Arriving back in New Amsterdam is a shock to Clarke's system. She wakes up in her bed—her bed. Not Josephine Lightbourne's. Her body. Not Josephine Lightbourne's. Whereas she has handled all of these complications back home, there's still a haziness in adjusting here. Two lives lived parallel. Whereas before, she had been certain that her life would be lonely, barely lived—her mind works to correct. To repair. To adjust. She can't adhere to notions that she held before. It will take time. Adjust. Adapt.

Adapt.

And do better. That's the one mantra that stays with her. Being here doesn't change that. Do better. Josephine had mocked that need, but that just tells Clarke that she was on the right track. That she is on the right track. Do better. So, she will.

Once Clarke has slept about a whole day to feel better, she takes some of her vital signs to make sure that she can manage being on her feet. It turns out that a good night of sleep was all she needed (and a good part of a day, at that). That's fine.

Otherwise? She has to acquaint herself with the city again. A cursory glance told her that she has a lot of reading to do. And a lot of seeing how things are in New Amsterdam proper. Clarke makes a to-do list:

a. get a new job. Giles Bell is surprisingly forgiving about her absence, but she tells them that she doesn't think it's the path she'd like to take. Having an evil scientist in her head really did a number on her, so she's willing to avoid too much science at the moment. She'll be hitting the streets to look for ideas.

b. Ask around about the animals that are getting into the city. Clarke hasn't seen any yet, but she knows they're around.

c. Check into travel to and from the city. This is for a future project, one important to all of the Displaced.

d. Start volunteering. She has enough medical training that she can do that. It's a place to start.

e. Otherwise, just be around for the first time since she came back inside of the walls after the EMP. She hadn't stuck around for long, either. Her disappearance was near immediate after she came back with Jyn and Prompto, vanishing before she even hit her apartment on her way home.

Clarke will look different. Her hair is more purposefully cut, and she starts to tend toward a darker wardrobe, with some splashes of red and blue where needed. She is older by six years, and carries herself in a way where someone may pick that up. But she's not exactly going to go around announcing it, not yet.

She has things that she has to do. A lot of things.]

[ooc: I'll also be putting prompts below! If you'd like a thread with Clarke, hit me up in PMs, on plurk @ medieval, or on Discord @ alison#8996.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

All right.

[ he grabs his newly delivered drink and turns his body a little more towards hers. ]

I'm all ears. You're obviously alive so no one ran you through with some fucking sword. Unless you got better and if that's the case, congratulations on the resurrection.

[ he knows what that feels like. ]

This about what you said to me on your message? About you having something like a stack where you're from?

No sword. [Clarke would ask about the sword thing, but that's better left for another time. Finding out that a world with as advanced of a body-hopping strategy as Kovacs' might use words is—well. It's strange. Hard to wrap her head around. But then, her world has that technology, too, and the people formerly known as Grounders love their swords.]

Just ... the rest. I'm not sure where you keep yours, but the one inserted into me was right here. [She fingers the place again. It's a recent wound, not fully healed. But Gabriel was good enough with his sutures that it's less of a concern than it could be.] Someone else took over my body. There were—complications.

["Complications."]

I wanted to be forthright with you about it, because ... well. I'd like to say that we were becoming friends before I left. I'm not sure if you agree. But this was—this happened.

[ his sister enjoyed her words. had to be the yakuza in her. ]

It's here. [ he taps the lower part of his neck. there's no scar or indication of any type of surgery but the stack is definitely there. ] Don't go using that information to cut me open when I sleep to take it out.

[ humor! ]

I think we were...something. [ look, it was hard to say he was friends with anyone. people who he was friends with, who he cared about, tended to die horribly. ]

How did someone else take over your body? [ he doesn't even know if that's possible with his stack but he wouldn't be surprised. ] Did you die? Is that the complication?

One of them. [No point in beating around it. Clarke did die, at least seemingly. The people around her mourned her. And in her own mindspace, she had believed she was dead. It took a lot of work for her to see otherwise, and to accept that she even deserved a chance to live.]

The society with the stacks—they had a nasty way of getting people to worship them. See, only people with a certain blood could bear the drives, and that blood was rare. Anytime someone would be born with it, they'd be raised to believe they'd one day be one with the Primes. It gives the illusion of being consensual. [Clarke leans forward, tapping her finger on the side of her glass. Her fingerprint leaves a print in the condensation.]

It was a slippery slope. One that led to me being taken against my will, and having to fight my way out. [Not, presumably, how sleeves and stacks and all that happen in his world, as far as she can tell. But important enough to share. To make her wonder every time she looks at him.]

Rest in peace. [ he says it dryly because he knows what it's like to die, what it's like to feel the life drain out of him and feel his heart stop. it hasn't been permanent, not yet but it still fucking sucks and it fucking hurts too. ]

They killed you because of your blood? [ the setup where she's come from sounds more complicated than his where everyone has a stack and that's that. hers sounds more hierarchical in nature where only those at the top of the food chain get these drives. ]

How the hell did you come back from that? [ she'd managed to fight off a stack of some kind and come back to herself, that was pretty fuckin' impressive. ]

It's a long story. [Clarke means it. Trying to explain the neural mesh when she can barely wrap her head around it? She gets it medically, sure. But technologically, she's just as lost as she was when she ran into Kovacs during the EMP. He had been more muted, but the more he talked, the more he seemed to be coming back into his own. She recalls that vividly.]

The blood part is actually the easiest part to explain. Something about these mind drives—same as the stack, so I'll stick with that—requires the black blood that I have. I can't remember if I mentioned it before. The fact that my blood is black, that is. [This is actually true: Clarke knows they talked about the stacks, recalls that day, but it's still mixed in like a haze of memories. Something that may stand out more because of her circumstances.]

This technology necessitates this blood. The people with the stacks, they went off to another planet to make a new life. Coming back wasn't an option. [Clarke recalls the little girl asking if they were there to take them home. Now, Clarke thinks that the Primes had made it so no one would go home. If they did, they would lose their immortality. A specific and distressingly successful scheme.]

My people went to that planet, seeking a new home. Most of us didn't have the blood, so we were useless. I did. Hence—[A shrug.]

But the blood itself, it can be passed genetically. Biologically. But it's a naturally recurring gene. We ended up finding this particular society around two hundred and fifty years into its making. [Hence: again, the need to take her against her will.] I was supposed to be gone, completely replaced.

Black blood. [ well, that's something. he's seen some pretty fucked up shit but he doesn't think he's ever seen someone bleed black. that would have been pretty fucking creepy. ]

How he hell did you get black blood? [ as far as he knew, she was human. maybe she'd been through the wringer but he doesn't think that means people would have drained her and replaced her blood with black ooze. ]

It's just something that's in your genes? [ fucked up, man. ] And because of that, these people took you and decided to what? Fuck with you?

[ is he following that right? ]

No, how I became a Nightblood is a much longer story, but it helps you survive nuclear radiation. It can also help with two suns and other types of intense heat. [Clarke says all of this in a very matter of fact way, as if there's no getting around it. The reality is that no, there isn't any getting around it. If she wants him to understand. Needs him to, moving forward. This is a thing that happened to her. A complete and absolute violation of her person, and it was one that should have resulted in her death.

(Did result in her death.)]

They took me because they thought I was naturally born, not made, and because their tech—their stacks—only work in people who can resist radiation. I don't know the science behind it, but I think the apocalypse kept it from getting anymore advanced. [Could Becca have moved it beyond that point?

Most likely. But Clarke knows that was a nearly impossible ask, given the ALIE problem.]

So, they thought you were basically a chosen one, huh?

[ how fuckin' lucky for you. he lets that thought percolate for a moment, turning it over in his head before he blows out a breath. ]

Okay, so.

[ he orders another drink. ]

Did they actually manage to get a stack in you? I know you pointed out where it was but did someone actually put one in you? Is that what killed you?

In body only. My mind didn't matter to them. [That's what's messed up about them compared to the Commanders. At least they revered the Nightbloods. Yes, they forced them to fight to the death, but there was at least ... some logic to it. It's not a logic she abides by, but it isn't selfish. Survival of a few for the many.]

When they took me, they drugged me. Actually—someone else drugged me, but they took advantage of the paralytic toxin while they could. They injected me with a serum that's meant to scrub my mind—scrub away me—[She shrugs.] But there was other tech in there. Same maker, different era. Likely after they went off on their mission. [She waves a hand to indicate that that's a long story.]

I was able to latch on to that tech and stay alive long enough to ... cause problems. But in every sense of the word, I was dead. I no longer could control my body. And yes, they put a stack in me. It's gone now. It got taken out. And with it, the woman on there is gone, too. [Clarke both sympathizes with what Josephine had become but also hates her at the same time. Monstrous, but can she ever truly hate another monster? She is Wanheda, after all.]

Well.

[ time to take a drink. ]

That's pretty fucked up. When it comes to sleeves, the body that the stack gets inserted into is dead. Gone. Nothing left. I don't even know how it would work if the body wasn't dead. Never tried it.

[ fucked the hell up. ]

Nothing of her left behind?

Edited 2019-08-03 21:42 (UTC)

Yeah, the Primes don't wait for someone to die. They speed up the process with their serum. [Definitely fucked up. Clarke takes a drink herself, allowing the liquid to pour down her throat. Beer here is nice, though she'll always look forward to the moonshine contests every Halloween. Now that she knows Monty's gone, it's even more important to celebrate her connection to that.]

Thankfully, she's all gone. In general, she was ... the leader of their whole—[she waves a hand]—thing. She was the first to be brought back, and also the first to suggest oblation as a means of getting people to hand over their lives willingly to a choice few. She was also keen on eugenics, so ... [A roll of her shoulders. That should speak for itself.]

I know a lot about her now. I wish that I didn't.

Well, in case you didn't know, that's pretty fucking fucked up.

[ but so were stacks, if you thought about it. they were just fucked up on different levels. kovacs mulls over all she's said and blows out a breath. ]

Could you use what you know and turn it into an advantage of some kind? Fuck her over that way?

Not unless I want to trick her family into thinking I'm her still. I don't know enough to pass, but she's not exactly the sentimental type. [The only exception is everything with Gabriel, and that doesn't factor in. There would be little reason for him to come up unless she asked about him.

Clarke's forehead does wrinkle, though, thinking it through.]

Which ... I could do. [A beat.] Mind you, most of my plans involve staying here instead of going back there. And bringing the people who matter over. Her family can keep her world.

Bringing people over. [ there's no judgment in the tone. curiosity, maybe, but no judgment. if she wants to stay here, so be it. he's not sure what he wants to do, not with so many question marks still lingering but maybe. ]

Guess the first step would be figuring out how to bring people here. I don't exactly remember the process between there and here.

No, none of us know. Otherwise, a lot of people would be gone. I know people want to be gone. [New Amsterdam has been difficult for some, to put it lightly. Clarke doesn't chafe against it, but she knows that time away from Madi will eventually take its toll on her. The only good thing is knowing that time isn't speeding by.

(It's also good that she doesn't know her daughter is currently being slowly taken over by a psychopath. There is that.)]

But I've never been a fan of forcing everyone out the door. A few of us think that way. So ... whatever we come to in the long term, I just need to make sure it works out for the best for me and my people.

[And ensuring this world lives long enough should they come here.]

[ it's noble. he can admit that it's fuckin noble to want that. ]

I don't know if I'd stay. I've got...things that are still in need of attention where I come from. People I have to try and track down.

[ his sister was dead but was quell? he wouldn't be able to rest completely until he knew. ]

Maybe if I find her, I'd come back. If it was possible.

It might be. [If a door can open, can't it open again? Clarke doesn't know, but can only hope. There are a number of people who would leave. She knows that.] I hope it'll be. The question is whether once you return home, you'll want to come back. For some of us, we already know the answer.

[Clarke knows that the people of this world would chastise her and her people the same way that the people of Sanctum did. They would speak of their genocide, of their poor actions. Would they they don't deserve the opportunity to live here.

So Clarke intends to keep that under wraps for as long as she can. Perhaps forever.]

I knew you had people. I basically pried out that they exist on Halloween, remember? [She smiles.] It's good that you have them.

[ he chuckles dryly and rubs his arm across his forehead. ]

Most of them are dead or presumed dead. [ his sister. quell. poe. ] And those that aren't...

[ god, he doesn't even know what ortega is. but, he can't bother her anymore. she has to go on with her life without the sleeve of her dead ex boyfriend hanging around. ]

I had them. I don't know if I still do.

At the end of the day, you still have to know. [Clarke understands that. The only reason she hadn't been driven to go back home was because she genuinely didn't know if she would survive the experience. If she had known about Madi, it would've been different. But alone, without anyone to focus on but herself and her survival? She kept herself sane for two months with messages that Bellamy would never hear.

She can't imagine doing that for another two thousand days without Madi.]

I understand. I wanted to stay here before, but I had good reason for it. Now I want to bring my people here. But ... just days ago—to me, anyway—I might have fought to go back. For a few brief moments there, it looked like we had something good. And even if we didn't, we could've made it good.

[They were determined to make that happen no matter what.]

Yeah. There are worse places to be than this place. [ when it wasn't trying to kill you dead, it wasn't that bad. better than some of the shitty places on earth he'd been too. not better than harlan's world but nothing was. ]

You prepared to deal with what happens if they don't wanna come? Or not thinking about that? [ she has a goal but he knows from experience that not everyone is always going to be accepting of that goal. ]

I don't think it's going to come to that. [In truth, Clarke hasn't faced that reality yet. It wasn't as if Monty gave them a choice: they couldn't return to Earth, so they went to the closest planet that was inhabitable. There was no proof that it would be, so they were heading down to the planet's surface blind. Of course, the planet itself is a moon, which likely explains a lot of the weird stuff that gets on there.]

At least ... I hope not. I think they'll be more concerned with why I'm here than anything else. How I've been here. If I'm even really me, after everything that's happened.

I assume you have a plan to convince them that you're you and not some pod person?

[ he doesn't say it aloud but she seems to be one of those people who thinks through almost all avenues that might occur once a choice is made. ]

Fingerprints? Polygraph test? Song and dance that only you know?

I'll think of something. [Clarke tries to sound dismissive, but sounds uneasy. The reality of it is this: if Clarke pitches this totally insane plan, everyone will believe it's her. Josephine Lightbourne struggles with empathy more than most people.] Or just ... I'll hope that everyone can tell. Me and Josephine don't actually share much in common. For one thing, she's a bit of a ... survivalist of the worst kind. A monster, if you want to be more blunt. I'll at least have character witnesses here.

[A pause. A point of realization.]

Though now I have a feeling that if this gets around, I might have to prove myself to ... everyone here. Can we keep this between us? I—it's not like I have my best friend here to convince everyone I was saved. [Her expression falls. At least Clarke won't be pushing for any of them to be recognized as ... literal gods? But the stuff inside of them is tied to one.

That's definitely a pickle she hadn't considered yet.]

I'll keep your secret.

[ and he wouldn't say that to just anyone. or maybe he would and he'd lie but he wouldn't tell anyone what she'd told him. ]

Most people here don't know how the fuck I exist either. So, I'm sure I'd be answering similar questions and I'm too fucking lay for that.

[ so mutually beneficial secret keeping. ]

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