station72 | [ OPEN ] Hot Springs Episode!

[ Asuka can sense a kindred spirit in Clarke, especially when they're both huddled up and trying to keep as much of themselves beneath water and out of line sigh as possible. She drifts, scooting against the wall, her good eye still suspiciously eyeing her surroundings and any male figures that might be anywhere close to them. Her eyepatch is still on and she's being very careful not to get it wet. ]

This is stupid. Why'd they let the men in here?

[ She feels your pain. ]

( bless you small child who is also made moderately uncomfortable with the open vulnerability of being naked around so many people. asuka approaches, bristling and snappy, and it's a little reaffirming. there is strength and comfort to be found in numbers, and while clarke doesn't relax so much to unfold her arms from across her chest, she can manage a sympathetic smile. they're in the same (pool) boat, and while clarke is less upset about the general nudity and more so about the additional level of feeling exposed around some she'd still consider strangers, she understands where asuka's reservations are coming from as well. )

Maybe Lakshmi could only curtain off so much room and didn't want to exclude anyone.

( that's... being generous, perhaps. clarke's real money is on the fact that very few of their companions seem bothered with the whole communal bath idea. )

[ They can be horrifically uncomfortable together, albeit for slightly different reasons. She stays folded in on herself, still apparently suspicious of anyone and everyone who might come their direction. She feels exposed, especially when there are men out and about here. Hmmph. ]

Well, maybe they should've made the boys wait their turn. It's what I would've done!

[ Because she's the greatest decision-maker. Of all time. ]

( admittedly, nothing quite cuts the tension of being uncomfortable like being in the company of someone even more enraged than you were. and while clarke would guess they were both rather prickly, it makes it the tiniest bit easier to gather the remaining scraps of her composure and calm with asuka practically spitting liquid disdain to her right. )

Or I guess we could have waited until later, when everyone else had left.

( she says we to be gentle, really meaning you. but it's a statement without any malice, and accented with a soft snort and the continued presence of that mild smile. on a moderately more pressing note, slight bemusement curbed: )

None of them have been bothering you, have they?

We shouldn't have to wait.

[ Said with all the conviction of someone who is convinced they need to bright all of the time. She shifts a little lower in the water with a pout, giving Clarke a look that's somewhere between pleading and irritated. ]

No one's bothered me yet, but you know how boys are. One of them is gonna do something. I know it.

[ She does not have a high opinion of men, apparently. ]

( apparently.

now, clarke has had her fair share of negative to neutral interactions with the people in the makeup of the nest, maybe even outweighing the positive ones. but she still takes a careful sweep of the pool occupants, dutifully not lingering on any one person and quick to turn back to asuka with a cajoling smile. )

No one's going to try anything like that. These are good people.

( and kaji told her she didn't know how to tell a lie, pft. )

Yeah, right. You really think everyone here is a "good person"?

[ Yeah, Clarke can practically hear the air quotes. She shakes her head. ]

Get real. We're not here because we're good people, we're here because we agreed to, for whatever reason. To fight a war. That doesn't mean that any of us are good.

[ Asuka is horrifically cynical. ]

( more pressingly, horrifyingly right. in fact, her vitriol hits so close to home it's all clarke can do to keep from physically blanching and curling in on herself amidst the dark, perfumed water. her features shift, rearranging from almost playful ribbing to something softer, sadder, more appraising in the way she looks at asuka's face; takes in the eyepatch, the disgruntled set of her jaw, her youth. it's odd, looking at someone only a few years her junior and feeling terribly, inexplicably old.

clarke bites her tongue for the span of a few heartbeats, eventually dragging her gaze to observe the delicate way water droplets ran down her fingertips when she lifted a hand from the sauna bath. )

I guess that depends on what you consider good to be. So what does it mean to you?

[ Asuka glances back at Clarke, keeping herself settled, eye searching her expression for... something. As if she can suss out what she's thinking without having to go diving into their mind link. She doesn't like doing that; honestly, she'd like to be able to wall herself off entirely sometimes. But that's not really possible anymore, is it? ]

I don't know.

[ She admits that without much reluctance. ]

Maybe none of us are good.

( it takes a good bit of effort not to sigh in morose agreement and lend to whatever bitter world views asuka holds. the dichotomy between good and evil is — rough. hazy and grey. the line between a good person and a bad person invariably shifted, depending entirely on which side of the equation one stood on. it's a tired argument, and one clarke has had with herself many times over. the question remains unanswered: can a good person remain a good person if they're forced to do terrible things?

it takes surprisingly less effort to drum up a smile again, and flick a few droplets of water at asuka with a husk of playfulness. )

We're supposed to be relaxing, not agonizing over the philosophy of mankind.

[ Asuka sputters and raises a hand to ward off the little flick of water. She shoots a look at Clarke and returns the salvo with one of her own, flicking water back at her with a snort. ]

I'm not agonizing. Just pointing out the obvious. People are assholes.

[ She has first-hand experience on this. Most of the authority figures in her life have been nothing but quietly neglectful or outright cruel. ]

( clarke accepts the return fire amicably, even if she has to turn slightly and use her wrist to wipe at the droplet that landed in her eye. )

What about your friends?

I don't have any friends.

[ Not... strictly true, but it depends on how you interpret friends. ]

Kaji isn't my friend. Misato isn't. Definitely not Shinji!

( well, she can't fault you for those first two, kiddo, they're not her friends either. and honestly, clarke doesn't have a lot of ground to stand on when it comes to pushing the idea of friendships being important, having very recently somehow managed to sabotage all of her old ones and really only sorta beginning to trust a single member of her brood. but.

still. )

What about everyone else? The people you've met here.

( if she sounds a little distracted, it's from chewing over the name shinji; it fits on her tongue and yet a face she can't place. a borrowed familiarity, a personal frustration for knowing people without knowing them. )

I dunno.

[ Asuka shrugs, as if she's determined not to give Clarke ammunition for their discussion. Almost like it's a competition. Which is unfair, because she thinks highly of Shepard, Seviilia, Lakshmi - but she's not sure she'd call them friends. Not really.

Lavellan had been the closest thing to a "friend" and he was gone.

A face flickers into her thoughts - Shinji Ikari. Dark hair and eyes, a bit scrawny. Meek. Or at least he looks it. Inoffensive. ]

I don't really have friends.

Edited 2017-11-19 07:48 (UTC)

That sounds lonely.

( quiet and thoughtful. this is clarke griffin less passing judgment, more so reflecting on these last few days separated from her people by bridges of their own mutual burning. in title lexa, bellamy, and murphy were still her closest friends in the nest, but the anger, tension, and pain that had engulfed their entire tent the night before the funeral is still a fresh memory. the disconnect had been palpable, each of them walling themselves into isolated corners. and it was so inexplicably lonely to be at odds with the people you trusted the most.

behind the agitated grief and frustration, clarke can imagine it's even worse to have not had people like that to begin with.

long story short, life is a lot harder to deal with when you're alienated from your support system. )

So? I don't like people.

[ Which is true and isn't true. She doesn't want to rely on others (she knows that), but she also doesn't want to be alone. She hates being alone - but she also hates the idea of needing others. It's a strange paradox, one she hasn't yet worked out for herself. One day, she will. She's not there yet, though. What good were people who left you, anyway? ]

Maybe I don't care about being lonely.

( it's a statement so confident and yet so full of glaring holes that it has clarke physically blanching as if momentarily forgetting her pained expressions aren't still hidden behind their veils. she winces, thoughts curled in on themselves: the solace of being alone in the woods with no one to look out for except herself, the vulnerability. the rage and contempt she'd felt for being forcibly dragged back to civilization, and all the hurt — turns out seeing the faces of her people again hadn't so much reminded her every day of what she'd done to get them there, but more eviscerated her with all the pain and loss and concern and fear held in their eyes.

but there's the strength drawn from others. the comfort of knowing you could depend on the people at your back. the peace of mind found only in the arms of someone you cared about.

everyone deserved to have that. )

Why come sit over by me then? ( it's gentle, not derisive. like she's trying to coax asuka towards the idea of friendship being one of the many gifts of life instead of dismissing her from her side. it's accompanied by another flick of water, see? casual camaraderie isn't so bad. ) It can't just be because you dislike me less than anyone else here.

[ Asuka has the momentary vindication of seeing Clarke blanch, but Clarke's also one of the people who helped her hold it together after Lavellan's death, so it's a relatively short-lived victory. The cold satisfaction fades into a sort of bitterness that the water can't really wash away. It's the paradox of getting what she thinks she wants and immediately hating it. That's been her life and even if she's learning, there's still a deep well of self-loathing for her to draw on. Especially when Clarke decides to challenge her. She frowns and sinks in the water until it's up to chin. Her gaze slides away from Clarke and her expression sours.

She does send a sloshing wave of water back at her, though.Stop flicking things at her, Clarke. ]

Maybe I do dislike you less. Or maybe you were just here so I didn't have a choice.

( sorry child, this wannabe adult won't stop attempting to play water games with you until you relent and admit that we're friends.

this time, clarke's features constrict into a vague mask of amusement. maybe it's the water leeching the various aches and pains of the long walk across the great plains, or simply easing tension she hadn't even realized she'd been holding in her shoulders and back, but she snorts amicably. just like her less, huh? there's a strain of self-deprecating agreement that wants clarke to nod resignedly and accept that's the best she'll get. but at the same time she has a point to prove.

still careful to keep her voice light and devoid of judgment, she gestures openly around them. )

This great big pool and a couple little ones over there, and you didn't have a choice? ( bull-fucking-shit, asuka langley soryu. ) You could not have gotten in, just gone back to the rooms and taken a hot bath. I thought about doing that.

Shut up.

[ Asuka's retort isn't quite as venomous as it could be, but it's certainly a step up from where it's been before. She can't really get any lower in the water without inhaling it, so she stays where she is, still fixing Clarke wit ha slightly icy look, despite the heat. Still, there's an acknowledgement of kinship there. Or at least something vaguely friendly and grateful for assistance earlier. ]

I mean, you helped me.

[ Once. Or twice. Or a few times. ]

I still don't like people.

( that feels like the most she'll get here, all the ground in this conversation that asuka will willingly surrender. and at least for now, that's enough. clarke turns her head ever so slightly, like that's enough to hide the bemused smile that's become a permanent resident on her face. there's humor on her features, but beneath that, a sad kind of hope; holding out the idea that somewhere, sometime, asuka would let up on her obstinant loneliness and maybe get a measure of relief that comes from having someone to rely upon.

a friend. best friend.

clarke misses all of hers, even the ones circling around this very room. )

You're really stubborn. ( affectionate and warm; kindred, maybe even sisterly. like if they weren't naked and uncomfortable, clarke might reach out to ruffle asuka's hair. ) I don't like a lot of people either, but I like you.

[ Asuka's never really had a best friend before. Or... any friend that wasn't particularly superficial. So she doesn't know the feeling of being able to confide in someone without fear of hurt or betrayal or letting herself down. It's an alien feeling to her. Completely and utterly. She keeps her gaze away, still mentally scowling to (at) herself.

Until Clarke speaks up again and she finds her face turning red. And not from the heat of the water. It's the stupidly open way that Clarke has admitted to liking her and - it makes something flutter. ]

Hey! No one asked you to say that...!

( gosh asuka, what a cutie.

this is as close to feeling like genuinely laughing — a chuckle unattached to tragedy or forced through the manipulation of the symbiote — that clarke's felt in a long, long time. and after recent events, she leans into the emotion a little too readily, allowing asuka's indignant offense to kindness and outburst to wash over and reinvigorate her. )

I know. That's the point. You may not need or even want my affirmation, but I'm going to give it to you anyway.

Shut up.

[ Asuka mutters in a surly voice, still blushing intensely as she stares at Clarke, good eye wide and darting away. Why does she feel so embarrassed? It's just... Clarke and her stupid sentimentality.

That's all. ]

You just startled me, that's all.

[ OPEN ] Hot Springs Episode!

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