( the thing about talking with misato, from her limited exposure, is it invariably ends up feeling like a challenge; bait to snap at, a bar to rise to. stepping into this world had felt like stepping into enemy territory regardless, but the other woman shirks off her clothes and steps into the water with little forethought and it's more like sitting down at a war council — feeling the tug and pull to follow foreign traditions for fear of being eaten alive, even as clarke diverts her eyes and fixates on a bit of rock several feet above misato's head.
confliction is written on her face in lines: a furrowed brow, tightly pressed lips. she's heavily debating turning right around and taking her very own bath, privately, in the bathrooms attached to their berthings. but that idea reeks of cowardice and retreat, and before making an active decision, clarke finds her toes against her heels, shucking off her boots and bending to roll up both pant legs.
compromise is dangling her feet into the pool a few feet away from misato and trying not to openly weep for how good the water feels on aches and pains she hadn't even realized she was holding. some of the intended stone-faced defensiveness is absent when she speaks. ) What do you want to know?
no subject
confliction is written on her face in lines: a furrowed brow, tightly pressed lips. she's heavily debating turning right around and taking her very own bath, privately, in the bathrooms attached to their berthings. but that idea reeks of cowardice and retreat, and before making an active decision, clarke finds her toes against her heels, shucking off her boots and bending to roll up both pant legs.
compromise is dangling her feet into the pool a few feet away from misato and trying not to openly weep for how good the water feels on aches and pains she hadn't even realized she was holding. some of the intended stone-faced defensiveness is absent when she speaks. ) What do you want to know?