thanks clarke (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
strove) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
meadowlarklogs2019-10-07 01:20 pm
strove) wrote in meadowlarklogs2019-10-07 01:20 pm
[open log] i don't care about the mess you made
WHO: Clarke Griffin, Riku, and Goro Akechi + anyone who wants to do some dreams or other stuff
WHERE: Dreams, New Amsterdam.
WHEN: Month of January IC!
WHAT: Dreams, memory shares, etc. General open log things.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation for Akechi and Clarke (respectively).
Of course, thematically they're different:]
riku: mistakes of the past, worries of the present
[These days, Riku is more or less at peace with himself. Once, his dreams were mercurial and lacked control. They showed his worry about strength. Power. And at times, Darkness—the Darkness that reigned over his life, that acted as a threat. These days, that Darkness is as much a part of him as anything: trapped in his heart, a constant in motion. A part of who he is.
But there are themes and motifs that reoccur. Friends fading away. The danger of thinking too much, even if the thoughts don't string together. A friend slipping, falling into a wave of Darkness. More recently: images of his home falling apart, of New Amsterdam falling to the same ruin, crashed into by a wave of dangerous Darkness.
And of friends dying. Of not being able to do enough. Of the struggle of having to accept that they will do as they do, even if he can't do nothing. His hands always tied, forced to be idle, passive. Accepting that, too.
There is always a push for logic against even the most irrational of thoughts. Always.]
clarke: guilt, the lives she's taken, a peaceful interlude
[Many of Clarke's dreams take place separate from what would be her mindscape. Her dreams are of green: sprawling trees with a beautiful, forested canopy. A bright sun overhead, though sometimes there are two. But in the horizon, there may or may not be ruin: ruins of a city that managed to come together in the aftermath of an apocalypse, or ruins of a world, covered in dirt and sand, and strange creatures that burrow into the ground and can dig into someone's skin. She doesn't dream of those creatures, not often.
When she can, Clarke dreams of what could be: a life in this area of rich, fertile environment. A time with her daughter, her mother, her friends. Bellamy is there when he can be, but during times of strife, it seems she has a hard time facing him. (This Bellamy is older, with facial hair and a calmer expression. Like he knows to keep what he can inside.)
When there are people present, there is always a pressure. Of being boxed in, of being the one to find the solutions. Clarke always feels as if her answers are the wrong answers, and they show here. But there is no resentment toward the many, many people in her life: angry, making demands. Just an acceptance. Clarke doesn't feel as if they're wrong to ask so much of her. Besides, she put herself in that position to ask to make those decisions.
After all, she is a mother. A leader. But also: a tumor. A cancer. These days, Clarke doesn't let those thoughts creep up, but in dreams, who can say?]
akechi: wasted potential, what could have been
[Akechi doesn't dream of exact moments or of exact places: he dreams of the settings he likes, with drawn out, complicated scenarios where he's called upon to solve a problem. Solve any problem. Because he is someone who came into his power at an age when he was already embittered by the world, embroiled in hatred for everything around him. His mother committed suicide when he was young, and he was forced to be passed from home to home, a blemish upon his family and upon the world. An illegitimate child and a problem. Rather than choosing to overcome these notions, Akechi internalized them, took them to heart.
His dreams reflect this: colored often in blacks and reds, with Akechi moving alone, carrying every purpose that he believes that only he can accomplish. His dreams are a sign of how he deluded himself: believing that his long term plans would become something at some point.
He is extremely intelligent, and his dreams show it: with him trying to make logic out of nothing, out of the world around him. He seems to be at odds with it, caught between a sense of justice (inherently emotional) and a world out of order, one that's inevitably going to be that way no matter what.
If Akechi's gambit had paid off—if he had been aware that he was a part of a game with a gambit in motion—his view of the world would've taken hold. It would've fallen into disarray, granting control to a single deity because people are inherently messed up. At the heart of his dreams, this is a singular, notable truth. It's just one that's at odds with what Akechi really wants: to be praised, loved, and seen as less than a blemish and more that someone who can accomplish things. He just hasn't admitted as much to himself.]
ooc notes
[The general overview here is to give people an idea of what my characters' dreams would contain. This is an open log, and you can request a starter hitting on one of the notes above! I'll also be posting closed requested starters below. I'm also open to memory sharing or characters just catching up, though the former may need to come along organically (as none of my three know it's on the table).
If you'd like to discuss further, hit me up on plurk @ medieval or on discord at alison#8996.]
WHERE: Dreams, New Amsterdam.
WHEN: Month of January IC!
WHAT: Dreams, memory shares, etc. General open log things.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation for Akechi and Clarke (respectively).
Of course, thematically they're different:]
riku: mistakes of the past, worries of the present
[These days, Riku is more or less at peace with himself. Once, his dreams were mercurial and lacked control. They showed his worry about strength. Power. And at times, Darkness—the Darkness that reigned over his life, that acted as a threat. These days, that Darkness is as much a part of him as anything: trapped in his heart, a constant in motion. A part of who he is.
But there are themes and motifs that reoccur. Friends fading away. The danger of thinking too much, even if the thoughts don't string together. A friend slipping, falling into a wave of Darkness. More recently: images of his home falling apart, of New Amsterdam falling to the same ruin, crashed into by a wave of dangerous Darkness.
And of friends dying. Of not being able to do enough. Of the struggle of having to accept that they will do as they do, even if he can't do nothing. His hands always tied, forced to be idle, passive. Accepting that, too.
There is always a push for logic against even the most irrational of thoughts. Always.]
clarke: guilt, the lives she's taken, a peaceful interlude
[Many of Clarke's dreams take place separate from what would be her mindscape. Her dreams are of green: sprawling trees with a beautiful, forested canopy. A bright sun overhead, though sometimes there are two. But in the horizon, there may or may not be ruin: ruins of a city that managed to come together in the aftermath of an apocalypse, or ruins of a world, covered in dirt and sand, and strange creatures that burrow into the ground and can dig into someone's skin. She doesn't dream of those creatures, not often.
When she can, Clarke dreams of what could be: a life in this area of rich, fertile environment. A time with her daughter, her mother, her friends. Bellamy is there when he can be, but during times of strife, it seems she has a hard time facing him. (This Bellamy is older, with facial hair and a calmer expression. Like he knows to keep what he can inside.)
When there are people present, there is always a pressure. Of being boxed in, of being the one to find the solutions. Clarke always feels as if her answers are the wrong answers, and they show here. But there is no resentment toward the many, many people in her life: angry, making demands. Just an acceptance. Clarke doesn't feel as if they're wrong to ask so much of her. Besides, she put herself in that position to ask to make those decisions.
After all, she is a mother. A leader. But also: a tumor. A cancer. These days, Clarke doesn't let those thoughts creep up, but in dreams, who can say?]
akechi: wasted potential, what could have been
[Akechi doesn't dream of exact moments or of exact places: he dreams of the settings he likes, with drawn out, complicated scenarios where he's called upon to solve a problem. Solve any problem. Because he is someone who came into his power at an age when he was already embittered by the world, embroiled in hatred for everything around him. His mother committed suicide when he was young, and he was forced to be passed from home to home, a blemish upon his family and upon the world. An illegitimate child and a problem. Rather than choosing to overcome these notions, Akechi internalized them, took them to heart.
His dreams reflect this: colored often in blacks and reds, with Akechi moving alone, carrying every purpose that he believes that only he can accomplish. His dreams are a sign of how he deluded himself: believing that his long term plans would become something at some point.
He is extremely intelligent, and his dreams show it: with him trying to make logic out of nothing, out of the world around him. He seems to be at odds with it, caught between a sense of justice (inherently emotional) and a world out of order, one that's inevitably going to be that way no matter what.
If Akechi's gambit had paid off—if he had been aware that he was a part of a game with a gambit in motion—his view of the world would've taken hold. It would've fallen into disarray, granting control to a single deity because people are inherently messed up. At the heart of his dreams, this is a singular, notable truth. It's just one that's at odds with what Akechi really wants: to be praised, loved, and seen as less than a blemish and more that someone who can accomplish things. He just hasn't admitted as much to himself.]
ooc notes
[The general overview here is to give people an idea of what my characters' dreams would contain. This is an open log, and you can request a starter hitting on one of the notes above! I'll also be posting closed requested starters below. I'm also open to memory sharing or characters just catching up, though the former may need to come along organically (as none of my three know it's on the table).
If you'd like to discuss further, hit me up on plurk @ medieval or on discord at alison#8996.]
no subject
Personally, you might want to focus on what plan you hope to set forth to stay alive. You ought to make sure that no one else has to die so that you remain alive.
[In that, it's different. Even a more favorable version of his mother's death doesn't favor her dying for him. He can barely imagine the fact: anyone caring enough to simply give their lives so that he could live another year. She hadn't done that. Shido wouldn't do that. And though he knows that Ren died in Zerzura, it doesn't qualify for this.
To say he's jealous that she could even consider the notion is a bit of an understatement. He wouldn't put it in those words, exactly. Instead, he resents her for it. Calls her foolish and naive. It's better than admitting that what she had is better than what he could never have, could never hope to have.]
no subject
[She's somewhat sure that the curse of her existence probably didn't follow her here. This world doesn't seem to follow the rules of nature set in her own, though whether this is a dimensional difference or the world just changes in the future she can't possibly know.
That didn't mean for sure that trouble wouldn't follow her. People just tended to die around her, regardless of anything else.]
There's a reason I don't have friends. [Except Caroline. Trying to push her away would be impossible now, and it's the only thing keeping her from literally going off the deep end. She wishes her uncle could be that for her, but he barely remembers her. Caroline doesn't either, but it's different seeing as they're the same age dealing with similar issues.] It's better for all of us in the long run.
no subject
Of both the friends and how you're no longer a child. [For all that that's true, there is some part of Akechi that dislikes her implicit rejection of him here. If Hope has no friends, that makes him not one. Again, on the surface, that appeals to him. Beneath the surface, he sees it as a sign of her thinking that she's better than him in some way. That their bond has meant nothing. But it should mean nothing. It's twisted up and wound together, with him not truly knowing what he wants from it all.]
In my opinion, they won't be true until you no longer have to say it.
no subject
So if I stand here and tell you that you're still just a kid, you're not going to deny it?
[Her brows lift, a challenging tone coming through in her voice.]
Do you really not care about anything or anyone, or are you just trying so hard to convince yourself that you'll say anything to prove it to other people?
no subject
For a moment, he shows more truth than he'd like, though. He acts akin to a caged animal.]
I thought you were the one who said those things.
no subject
[Frankly, she's had about enough with his attitude, like he knows everything about everything, including what's going on in her head.]
There's no one in this universe that doesn't care about someone or something. The problem is that I'm sick of them all leaving.
[That's a little more honest than she'd intended, but whatever. It doesn't matter. He's going to pretend not to care anyway, right? Tell her she's weak.]
So which is it? Are you going to try and tell me you don't feel anything? Because I'm gonna call bullshit.
no subject
And you deign to suggest that I have nothing that I care about?
[That he has feelings about. Oh, they're all aggressively negative feelings. But they're what he knows best.
Akechi is hard pressed to say he feels positively about things when pressed. He believes that all he enjoys is an illusion, a mask he's created for himself. In some ways, that is true. In others, it's yet another lie—but one he hasn't figured out for himself.]
no subject
[Maybe he's expecting her to finch, to be afraid, but she just crosses her arms over her chest, jutting her chin out as if she's daring him.]
I just wanted you to admit that you do. So, are you pushing people away to protect them? Or to protect yourself?
[Her eyebrow lifts expectantly.]
Or are you just going to shoot me instead of answering me?
no subject
After a beat, he straightens up, his left hand—holding the gun—moving to press lightly against his chest. It's a rather dramatic pose.]
In your mind, in your simplistic existence, it can only be one or the other, can't it? I choose neither.
[Akechi lets the answer hang in the air.
And then he points the gun at her, finger wrapping around the trigger. There are no nerves, no points of discomfort.
Akechi pulls the trigger.]
no subject
She wants to tell him that she thinks it's both, because that's what it is for her. When she's forced to talk about it, she says it's because people die around her. People usually took that one way or the other, but it's always messier when there's more to it than just one thing.
Her mouth opens to speak, only for her voice to catch in her throat as he lifts the gun, points it at her face, and pulls the trigger.
She hears the loud noise of the gun, feels something splitting through her head...
...and then she's sitting straight up in bed, her sheets damp from sweat, her heart beating furiously in her chest. She sits there for a minute, staring into her lap, blinking her eyes rapidly.
Then, she collapses back onto her pillow, her forearm swinging over to cover her eyes.]
....dammit.