( wow, difficult people. she's never, in no way, ever dealt with them in her life. what new uncharted territory. except not, see: the 100, seasons 1-4. )
(Either way, I'm offering.) ( and there's the mental impression of a shrug, neither dismissive nor allowing herself to be dismissed. she'll let the conversation trail off there, if asuka wishes. clarke settles slightly into her seat as well, never very comfortable with the constant sharp anger blurring around the edges of her mind, but content. she tried, there was only waiting it out to see if the other girl cracked in the silence, as the mechanics up on stage click to life and a story plays out for their enjoyment.
it's not a new story. it's familiar, almost biblical. bits and pieces strike her particularly close to home — group suffering, the last of the rabadoceans striking out on their own in search of some sort of salvation, the tedium of searching for relief in a harsh world. it's a long play, and halfway through clarke becomes completely entranced by the performance, no longer constantly checking back with her companion; no more cautious glances sidelong at asuka behind the obstruction of their clothes. at least not until the end, when the orb explodes throughout the garden. )
(That was beautiful.)
( the brilliance has light playing behind her eyelids, even as clarke blinks to readjust to their hosts bright house again. her hands automatically raise to join the applause. )
no subject
( Either way, I'm offering. ) ( and there's the mental impression of a shrug, neither dismissive nor allowing herself to be dismissed. she'll let the conversation trail off there, if asuka wishes. clarke settles slightly into her seat as well, never very comfortable with the constant sharp anger blurring around the edges of her mind, but content. she tried, there was only waiting it out to see if the other girl cracked in the silence, as the mechanics up on stage click to life and a story plays out for their enjoyment.
it's not a new story. it's familiar, almost biblical. bits and pieces strike her particularly close to home — group suffering, the last of the rabadoceans striking out on their own in search of some sort of salvation, the tedium of searching for relief in a harsh world. it's a long play, and halfway through clarke becomes completely entranced by the performance, no longer constantly checking back with her companion; no more cautious glances sidelong at asuka behind the obstruction of their clothes. at least not until the end, when the orb explodes throughout the garden. )
( That was beautiful. )
( the brilliance has light playing behind her eyelids, even as clarke blinks to readjust to their hosts bright house again. her hands automatically raise to join the applause. )