( clarke is staring straight ahead at the staging area, but her gaze is unfocused. hazy, shifting, glued to the projection of those bitter memories. the three dimensional scan in particular draws her attention, a map of tendrils wrapped tight like ivy around passive plant life. she's reminded of the bite of the flame as it had drilled into her neck, painfully aware of the rough and gnarled scar tissue that had healed over along her vertebra while she slept. but this wasn't the same; this wasn't technology they could hack, nor a simple tumor that could be removed. not at the size and growth rate.
it's hard not to follow murphy into his despair. harder not to ask questions neither of them would likely have the answers for. how long until they ceased being their own persons? until the symbiote started to impede on their memories and sense of self? until they lost where one conscious ended and another began? ripping herself from that path of thinking is a physical affair; demands she exhale sharply, and readjust her posture. sit up straighter and readjust her attention, honing in on the waves of misery rolling off murphy like a waterfall. her own sorrow is temporarily waylaid. )
(Hey. If we can fight it, we will.)
( there's no plan of attack to be shared here. clarke doesn't know where they'd start to finding a solution for their parasitic companions, but her tone carries conviction. they'd scraped through life as it was, narrowly surviving every curveball earth and space alike had thrown at them, and this was just the next one. what she lacks in terms of ideas, clarke more than makes up for in the palpable determination to this find one.
if feeling the dedication in her thoughts isn't enough, she's raising a hand to grasp his shoulder, squeezing lightly. )
no subject
it's hard not to follow murphy into his despair. harder not to ask questions neither of them would likely have the answers for. how long until they ceased being their own persons? until the symbiote started to impede on their memories and sense of self? until they lost where one conscious ended and another began? ripping herself from that path of thinking is a physical affair; demands she exhale sharply, and readjust her posture. sit up straighter and readjust her attention, honing in on the waves of misery rolling off murphy like a waterfall. her own sorrow is temporarily waylaid. )
( Hey. If we can fight it, we will. )
( there's no plan of attack to be shared here. clarke doesn't know where they'd start to finding a solution for their parasitic companions, but her tone carries conviction. they'd scraped through life as it was, narrowly surviving every curveball earth and space alike had thrown at them, and this was just the next one. what she lacks in terms of ideas, clarke more than makes up for in the palpable determination to this find one.
if feeling the dedication in her thoughts isn't enough, she's raising a hand to grasp his shoulder, squeezing lightly. )
( We'll figure this out, too. )
( like always. )