[ Complex. The sense of it bumps up against Clarke, stirs up a flurry of sense memory as Bellamy's mouth opens in a sharp gasp. The faces blur slightly, Clarke and Alina overlapping, the faces of children mixing, soldier's uniforms blending with the Ark-issued survival gear the hundred had worn. Bellamy's brow furrows, and he shifts, making a short, pained sound. ]
She'll do it, [ Bellamy tells him, clammy hand catching the Darkling's. ] She reminds me...
[ Clarke. Bellamy remembers the clutch of her hands on his shoulders, the way her body had fit tight against his. Her hand had been shaking when last he grasped it, and she was going to save them all. ]
Who is she?
[ This is dangerous. It's dangerous but Bellamy doesn't stop it. It feels good to be this close, hand clutching the Darkling's, their minds settled together. Bellamy's discomfort and pain is muted, the urge to be sick distant and disarmed. The urgency of disentangling himself is hard to grip, and it's hard to stop seeing all that Darkling had shown him, children dressed as soldiers, battlefields stretching out before him. It's sickeningly familiar, but the sharing of it is welcome. ]
no subject
She'll do it, [ Bellamy tells him, clammy hand catching the Darkling's. ] She reminds me...
[ Clarke. Bellamy remembers the clutch of her hands on his shoulders, the way her body had fit tight against his. Her hand had been shaking when last he grasped it, and she was going to save them all. ]
Who is she?
[ This is dangerous. It's dangerous but Bellamy doesn't stop it. It feels good to be this close, hand clutching the Darkling's, their minds settled together. Bellamy's discomfort and pain is muted, the urge to be sick distant and disarmed. The urgency of disentangling himself is hard to grip, and it's hard to stop seeing all that Darkling had shown him, children dressed as soldiers, battlefields stretching out before him. It's sickeningly familiar, but the sharing of it is welcome. ]