Okaaaayyy I also had a lot of cookies. and a lil bit of weed, just like. Two weeds dont lecture
( it'd be a waste of brrath. plus they have much more interesting topics of conversation to attend to anyways! )
oh, I see. right before the end of the world I stuck a giant needle full of nightblood serum into my arm. We hoped there'd be Radiation Resistant properties in it and that's why my bloods blsck. did Your experiment work?
( she needs to think an extra minute or so on his clarifying question about soul colors, so that'll come up again shortly. but easy stuff — histories — first. )
It's probably not a colloquial that exists in Auldrant, anyway--at least not in reference to anything other than plants considered obnoxious in gardens--but clearly that's not what she's actually talking about here. ...Must be some other sort of substance. She doesn't seem particularly distraught at the moment, at least, but Jade's already making a mental note to check in on her in proper morning hours...by which time whatever this is will have either hopefully worn off, or will be requiring more active intervention--
But for now...well...]
Oh, only two weeds! Well, then, I'm sure that's nothing to worry about at all. No lectures from me for now! 🙂 [For now.] Far be it from me to ruin the fun you're clearly currently having at the moment here
[...Admittedly, after all. This is a very interesting vein of conversation, suddenly. ...Questioning her in an altered state like this probably isn't the kindest thing to do, but that is the beginning of an answer to a question Jade's been harboring ever since he had to cauterize that stab wound of hers all that time back. Never got around to properly asking about it, and now...]
Is that why your blood is black? I'd been wondering about that, for some time...I've never seen anything quite like it.
[Hmmm. This does warrant some equivalent exchange, perhaps, even if Jade's still fairly sure Clarke may not be able to parse the more technical details at the moment. ...But keeping it simpler, maybe...]
My experiment did work in a sense, yes. It made me a more powerful fonist, which was what I wanted at that time. I'd applied the sigils to my eyes improperly, though; hadn't expected the color to change. The glyph symbology is also permanently unstable now, so that needs to be addressed fairly constantly.
And your own experiment, with your blood. Did it work in turn? ["Radiation resistance", hm...]
( bro you're gonna have to ask palamedes if you want actual words. clarke can't even envision the word tetrahydrocannabinol, let alone spell it right now. all she knows for certain right now? vibes. and, as the kids say, bitch don't kill my vibe.
she's taking that promise of no impending lecture at face value, goes so far as to nod to herself and if asked to describe an emotion, would lean towards content. besides, the conversation pushes on. where being high as balls has dissolved most of her brain to mouth (to fingers) filter, and while the ink color of her blood is no closely guarded, meaningful secret, the origins of it seldom come up in conversation. that's true for most facts about clarke griffin, she doesn't like talking about herself, her atrocities, or her failures. it'll be a marked moment, later. tomorrow. whenever she rereads this conversation and doesn't mind that jade knows. )
Natblida. that's what the grounders called them. it's a geneetic mutation, and only the people borne with the blood can ascend to be come a Commander and carry The Flame. they're basically royalty, and we noticed they recovered from radiation sickness quicker than anyone else. 1st test subject died awfully. emori was next and I couldn't do that to her in the end
( ...that's not what he asked is it... )
when I got here Ii didn't think it did. thought idied in the Deathwave, last thing I remembered was every cell in my body burning and my lungs filled with blood. but Friday says I live long enough back home to kill my mom, so it had to have worked
( ... )
wanted At the time"? did that change? you're not a baby anymore, can't you fix whatever you did wrong?
There's actually--a lot here, now isn't there? It's almost impressive, honestly, how much Clarke manages to cram into these few sentences; a great deal to unpack. A part of Jade finds himself intrigued by this talk of "genetic mutations", the resistance to sickness afforded; "radiation" as a concept is a familiar one, though it bears stronger ties to technology from the Dawn Age, scattered records of the aftermath of the truly terrible sorts of weapons developed during the Fonic Wars in that time. Not the sort of thing easily resisted in general, really, but...
These are questions that are quelled, in the end. Alongside the ones about the more thorough definitions of such terms as "grounders" and "The Flame" and the "Deathwave". Clarke discloses her apparent last memory before awaking upon this ship, but...even after that. Oh, the layers of that news, where Friday's concerned--]
She told you of things you would do, in the future of your timeline back home? [Killed her own mother, no less. --No judgment rendered here, much the same way there isn't any rendered for the girl named Emori or the other nameless test subject, and the grisly experiments apparently levied over their heads in the name of survival. Goodness knows he's the last to throw stones on that front--and in general, there just isn't enough context here to yet form any strong opinion either way. But...] That seems rather cruel of her. It's unfortunate you've learned of such a thing.
[...Condolences might be hollow, in this sort of situation. Jade's still well aware Clarke's pretty clearly in an altered state, at the moment, and it's a nagging thing that thoroughly quells the urge to try digging for more information all around here. He'd truly much prefer discussing such heavy matters with a sober and present-minded Clarke, honestly--if she would still wish to, by that time. So, for now...]
[Well. In the end, it looks like the topic of himself might actually be the safer route here after all. Funny how that works.]
But yes, that did change. The things I want now are quite departed from what my childhood self might have wished for, and being a powerful fonist has attained me none of them in the end. [Honestly, for the most part, being a powerful fonist really only made everything...worse....
But that second bit there, that's a fair question. Blunt phrasing regardless.]
Still, alas, even as my current non-baby self a fix is rather easier said than done. The risk runs quite high that the process of trying to remove the glyphs at this point would permanently blind me. [And maybe there's a small part of him that still thinks the least he deserves is dealing with this mistake, same as all the others. But anyway--] For now I've found mitigating measures that work well enough, anyhow. ...I suppose you've been assuming I wear these glasses of mine to correct my vision, haven't you?
Edited (god just spams you with edits ig RIP TO YOUR INBOX) 2022-11-11 06:20 (UTC)
( first and foremost, re: friday, and with what's maybe a concerning amount of... pride filtering through? illustrated by the most legible and error free text thus far? )
( but in the end, that's the only immediate thought paid to that topic. the benefit of an altered mind is the sharp barbs of old emotional thorns don't cut as deeply as they usually do, and even recounting some of her worst moments (not the worst, of course) does little to draw proverbial blood.
plus, clarke knows her own story. she knows her own history and terminology and and thoughts and feelings and — secrets.
the one he's chosen to hint at here absolutely flooring her once the meaning catches up. )
[...........Honestly, yeah, the vague impression of pride filtering through this single snippet of perfectly-formed text is sure just a bit concerning actually--]
I suppose making her angry would invoke something like that...
[And now he wants to ask why?? Does he actually want to ask this though. ...Maybe not...right now. Altered state, still, though at this point Jade's genuinely uncertain whether Clarke's motivations there would actually be any more sensible explained soberly.
Besides that, though, there is something unfortunately impressive about Clarke managing to set off the chronically nervously-cordial Friday...]
[For now. ...For now. Let's stick, to a much simpler topic, yes--]
20/10, actually! You can't join the army without perfect vision. Where Malkuth's forces might be concerned, at least...
But yes, that's about the gist. To put it as simply as possible, my glasses currently prevent my eyes from exploding. 😊
[On one hand: maybe kind of mean to phrase it quite like this. But on the other hand: if this doesn't succeed in completely and utterly sidetracking Clarke from any further talk of unfortunate interactions with Friday currently...well, he sure doesn't know what else might--]
( mark yourself a win in that category, jade. distraction: success. )
that's so cool! Absolutely groovy. ( thank the cultural syntax absorption of the ship (vance and diana abel specifically) for this praise. )
well, awful and scary, I don't even remember getting my eye torn out and it puts my Teeth on edge.
your eyes dind't explode first time we met though.
( "first time we met", you know, the sleep-sneak attack where natsuno'd eventually had to point out the spectacles off to the side, on the floor. thinking on jade's glasses, clarke also remembers putting them on his face after the rover incident. hmmmm... )
It is indeed sometimes groovy and sometimes a bit awful. Caution with one's eyes is a fairly base instinct for most people for a reason. [Shame his childhood self had no such sense of self-preservation whatsoever, though...] I've had quite a lot of time to get used to the idea of it by now, either way, so it's not a more pressing concern to me these days.
My eyes won't explode the second my glasses leave my face, after all! They're fontech, there's a stabilizer built into the lenses; without it, the glyphs in my eyes begin to unravel, which doesn't necessarily happen all at once. Based off past tests, I start developing migraines and poorer eyesight after about 8 hours without a stabilizer, and symptoms worsen from there. I suspect I could probably go almost three days without, but obviously it's not exactly something I'm keen to find out.
[Hmm, is this too much? Will she be able to parse most of this? Maybe not, but the correspondence will still be there for later future review too. Clarke's the first person to directly ask about his eyes like this, actually, though she's the second to learn the constraints of their limits; Doctor Watson was the first on that front. Jade doesn't consider it a secret to closely guard by any stretch, but it just generally doesn't come up very often in normal conversation...]
Whatever do you want "magic glasses" for yourself, though? I wasn't aware you had any issue with your eyes currently, apart from that one occasion of unfortunate damage. Or am I wrong?
( it is actually a whole lot, and what clarke's currently processing is probably only the surface. that's more than enough to be horrified at the prospect of his eyeballs essentially vibrating to jelly in his skull. like, explosive jelly. jelly that would then explode. it churns her stomach now; tomorrow she'll reread it and still be disturbed by jade's laissez faire attitude about the whole thing (like always).
one thing that strikes her interest though: )
is this why you don't sleep a lot?
( insomniac recognizes insomniac. )
are you scared about your eyes? Or the headaches?
( ... should she shut up? probably. some of us actually do have secrets about our failings we'd like to keep hush hush but, again, the magically mitigating brain-to-mouth-to-text filter seems to have dissolved. )
and I want magic everything, jAde.
do you get what it would be like being surrounded by magic, steeped in it, reliant and conjugated ( "subjugated", but continue going off clarke. ) by it, a little scared of it, and not able to do anything about it because you are only human?
because if you don't, I'll tell you it really sucks
[Aah, not that his insomniac habits have been particularly secretive either, considering how Clarke and Natsuno would often spend nights colluding in cabin 109 into the dark hours of morning with Jade often awake for large swathes in the backdrop. It's mildly surprising in an amusing sort of way, though, for Clarke to bring this up now--]
For the most part, yes! It's rather difficult to sleep with glasses on without eventually damaging them, you see. But on the other hand, waking every morning after a standard 8 hours to considerable pain isn't terribly ideal either. So, with time I adjusted my sleep schedule accordingly.
[...]
Scared? Not particularly. Being afraid of something you've wrought upon yourself isn't particularly productive, after all.
[...Hm. Though the fact she'd be concerned is...touching? If it's concern after all; harder to tell, these things, in written correspondence.
And then again, sometimes there are feelings that shine through no matter the medium. Clarke's prompt answer after that--about magic, and her feelings about being entrenched in it, and her burning desire to have it in any form--it's another bit of a surprise, the sheer vehemence of it.
Jade, who has been considered frighteningly talented in the use of fonic artes since the age of four--who was inventing new spells wholesale by the time he was eight--who would go on to create truly terrible things, and subsequently wished he'd never been allowed to wield such talent at all, in darker hours--frowns a bit at this portion of Clarke's message, for a protracted moment or so.]
Well, I must confess. Though I remain human, at the end of the day, it's still likely true that I wouldn't quite know this exact feeling you describe.
I'm happy to take your word for the fact that it could, indeed, suck.
...And you believe having "magic everything" would be enough to ease this feeling?
( it's concern completely stripped to the bone, but the surrounding waters still remain murky enough that it's hard to trac the full skeleton. aka she's too damn high to stay on the topic long enough to type out "you should fix it just so you can get more sleep", not when the fire's stoked under the magic envy pot and now the contents are bubbling over.
on her end of the phone, clarke scoffs because — yeah, that makes sense, of course he wouldn't know. it really fucking sucks, she mutters aloud in her dark room, to no one in particular. )
i think it'd level the playingfield.
imagine the look on Ebalon's face nect time he tries to stab me with moon spears and they just shatter like glass. literally fucking eclipsed.
I wouldn't hvae bled to death if I could heal with magic, or busted my head on Jenny's ship if i had flying magic, or gotten burned if i could make magic shields ( she isn't even the least bit mad at rita, and all the hurt feelings are numbed and compartmentalized, and there've been apologies. but the fact still remains. ) maybe I could make a magic captain sized box. or maybe i could at least just help. really help. here. I dont know what Im doing half the time.
[Oh, has he never? ...Is that a question Clarke even truly needs to ask? She's been aboard this ship as long as he, if not longer. Has she already forgotten that he died in the battle royale right alongside Rita, who he catastrophically failed to defend? That not a single person could deal an ounce of lasting damage to the captain in that dinner after the fact--to say nothing of how Clarke was the only one to so much as exact a blow, with her lobster crackers? That he was just as susceptible to the effects of that cursed rain as anyone else, and found himself forced to divulge things he'd never wanted to speak of in this place? That he had no choice but to watch alongside everyone else, as Skulduggery Pleasant sacrificed himself in a game to open the way out from a dimension designed specifically to trap and kill countless past passengers?
That he could only study Natsuno's remains in that closet, after the decision he'd made without telling anyone--a decision Jade surely should have been able to see coming? That he couldn't actually tell at all, when his closer friends here were first possessed by shades, and failed to act even on piqued suspicions until he'd be killed while robbed of his own will in the process?
That he still doesn't fully understand how this transpired to begin with, nor know how to fully amd completely prevent this from ever happening again? That he's made no further progress than anyone else here, on finding a way to sever every passenger from the bonds of this ship without fading to oblivion in the process?
That it still feels overwhelmingly likely they'll all be collectively living out the rest of their limited lives in this place?
...To not even touch upon events back home, before all this. Professor Nebilim, Fon Master Ion, Luke...
Ah, but he had magic in all those occasions, so surely he never should have felt powerless. Right?]
[Perhaps Jade could sit here, right now, and take apart her argument piece by piece with the ruthlessly dispassionate precision of a surgeon.
......Or perhaps he won't.]
I'd say that I have, in fact. But evidently you wouldn't believe me, now would you?
[Inadvisable as it remains, to have a properly sincere conversation with Clarke in this state. Not when it remains impossible to truly tell, if she's speaking her true thoughts on these matters.
(There's a part of Jade that hopes, after all, that her perception of this topic isn't truly this childish. ....No, surely not. Must be an exaggeration of the substance she's been enjoying, of late. And in that case, the most appropriate response would be--)]
The night grows later still, Clarke. I think you ought to get some sleep.
( welp. her intention hadn't been to trigger anything deep beneath the constant apathetic sociopathic façade he puts on... but then again, she hadn't gone wheedling at gal friday expecting to be proverbially shot through the heart either. it'd just been a question, even footing, a baseline of understanding sought out. but since she has no inclination of everything going on inside his head, nor the completely composed mental faculties to assuage the wounds wrought by five words, clarke carries on. )
of course I believe you, Jade. So you do get it.
( but would she consider herself a little more screwed just by being thrown up against concepts and villains the likes of which her world'd never even dreamed of? yes. but at least sober she wouldn't have said most of that out loud. )
you know it Really Fucking Sucks, and if it were possible to get a leg up you would want it, right?
everyone needs to stop telling me to sleep. tomorrow's just gojng to be back to normal
[One of these days Clarke Griffin is going to fully realize and harness her uncanny talent for lampooning people directly in the sorest of emotional places in the most offhand ways, and it's going to be a truly terrible time for everyone involved...
But, until then, there are simply these inadvertent sorts of stabbings. And here, at least, the benefits of written correspondence still thrive. She doesn't know just how stinging her question actually was, and that's just as well. At the end of the day, as far as Jade's concerned, these nagging uncertainties are his own to deal with--just as Clarke's magic envy is hers, regardless of how she feels about it boiling over quite like this later. ...Or so he'd like to look at it, anyway.
(Very probably, on some future where half-baked desperate magic from a certain someone wreaks havoc, Jade may well look back at this conversation...and spot yet another remarkable failing of his own perception, where reckless teenagers might be concerned.)]
Obviously anyone would want such a thing, if it were only truly that easy.
Perhaps one day you might yet find the magic glasses you're looking for. But I have none to give you, at this time.
[You know, metaphorically. But also literally, too...]
Well, tomorrow you may very well be sober, yes. [...Not that he doesn't think he understands what she means on a baser sort of level, with that bit. Alas--] Unfortunately it'll arrive whether you sleep or not, however, so at this point it's more a matter of just how sleep-deprived you want to be when you address it once more.
But far be it from me to dictate your choices on these matters! I'm sure you'd continue musing on things like soul colors even if you found yourself a bed right now, wouldn't you?
( is it not already frickin' terrible though? the blade's double edged, she gets herself just as often.
"at this time" though, jade? dangerous words, a brighter mind might — and likely will — pick up on the fact that all she needs is a pair of sunglasses from sundries, the man's good will and trust, and the right motivational speech for that to be a possible reality.
or not even that much, just the idea, a knife, and a few drops of her own blood...
BUT! for now. )
uuuuuugh.
( for now she just hates that he's right. and while clarke's starting to see the social cues to leave him alone: )
I'm already ina bed. well, a couch. ( palamedes had deposited her there some time ago. and you know what she'd forgotten to ask him before he left — )
what color do you think your soul is?
red, like your eyes? They don't have to match, I don't think. mine's probably red, like rust or dried blood, or all consuming fire.
[True, it really is already terrible, which certainly bodes well for how much more terrible it could potentially get in the future...
That aside, though. Yes all that aside now. (Good will and trust may...be attainable. But that had best be quite the motivational speech indeed--)]
You know, you never did answer whether wickedness would darken the color. I suppose we're using rather arbitrary metrics all around here, though. And if wickedness is a factor, why, my soul might very well be dark as pitch!
[Is he joking? Is he serious?? More mysteries for text correspondence to shoulder....
There's certainly a rather concerningly drawn pause after that, too. As if Jade has given up on dropping social cues to end the conversation at this point, and has simply taken on the initiative for himself. .......But then:]
Or perhaps gray, setting subjective character aside. [...] There is a certain color that clouds take on, on a morning before it snows. Have you seen such a thing before?
( more mysterious correspondence to address right the heck now you mean because in that lull she's squinting, typing, thinking... and what follows is: )
I dont think you're all that wicked. even if you were, human beings contain multitudes you wanna do better, then do better. I was going to guess seafoam green. like your uniform if it wasn'tt awful.
But grey sounds nice. i've never even seen snow, Jade. enough normal storm clouds though, are they all that different?
[...What an insightful thing to say, even in this sort of state. She certainly boils down the most complex aspect of it all in the simplest terms. You wanna do better, then do better.
He's been trying.]
Hmmm, it's a little surprising you don't think that. Then again, I still occasionally forget that my reputation no longer precedes me here.
[And no, he's not going to elaborate on that either! Instead--]
Snow clouds can be somewhat different from storm clouds, yes. The energy that precedes the approach of the front is different...less heavy, more still. If it's morning, clouds bearing snow are less dark or rounded, more of a flat slate. You look out the window and you know the day will be a very quiet one; snow tends to consume sound quite readily. [...] My hometown was in a very cold northern region. It's winter there year-round. I don't know if I'd recommend the experience, but perhaps we may yet see snow at some point on this ship too.
[During an excursion, perhaps. If it isn't one full of death, hopefully. ...But anyway--]
That aside, though, seafoam green is also quite alright 🌊! In fact, let's just settle on that, much less complicated.
I'd apologize for my uniform being awful, but I will not, because I did not design it. Still, your complaints are duly noted all the same.
( jade paints a gorgeous picture, even if clarke's struggling to fully take in every word she can practically feel the suffocating, comforting silence of snow. so many things on earth had turned out wretched and ugly and bloody, and in the end it'd all burnt — but between tragedy and travesty, it'd been a beautiful planet. she had buried wants of seeing more of it, but they have a habit of pounding on their coffins when the subject is brought up. )
that sounds so pretty. I wish I could see it.
( then, because she's high and a mess: )
i would destroy you in a snowball fight, seafoam ⛄⛄⛄
[It was..."pretty", yes. Looking back. Hard to build such appreciation for something you've dealt with all your childhood; he wasn't exaggerating, where Keterburg's concerned, constantly snowy town that it is. But in the time spent away from it since--and especially here, and now, with the weight of the knowledge that he'll likely never see Keterburg again in this current existence--he can observe it in his mind's eye...and agree, on the beauty there.
Oh, not aloud though. That would be sappy. Especially when Clarke just so happens to be throwing down a gauntlet like that, so very conveniently!]
Oho, you think so? That you'd stand a chance against me, undisputed snowball-fight champion of my hometown before I left?
I've knowledge of forbidden snowball artes that you've never even dreamed of ☃️🙂 But perhaps I could be persuaded to pass them down, if you ever prove yourself worthy!
( that's familiar. people often disparage the places they were born. whenever someone asks clarke what space was like, there's an inevitable beat of silence in trying to remember something not shitty — but even now she craves the safety and ease of childhood, and the distant view of all earth's luminous colors filtering through darkness and eclipsing stars.
but there's absolutely no time to dwell on that anymore, because war has been declared and jade's talking mad shit. you know what supercedes fuzzy happy warm tingly highs? a fierce competitive streak. the same that saw her kicking natsuno off racing bikes and affectionately drowning pal at sea. )
ooooh I bet you were great when you were young. but times change and it's well beyond when you should pass the torch.
when i roll you up like a snowman an you're old arthritic joints cry mercy, you'll know whatworthy looks like 🙃🙃🙃
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway
no subject
dont lecture
( it'd be a waste of brrath. plus they have much more interesting topics of conversation to attend to anyways! )
oh, I see.
right before the end of the world I stuck a giant needle full of nightblood serum into my arm. We hoped there'd be Radiation Resistant properties in it and that's why my bloods blsck.
did Your experiment work?
( she needs to think an extra minute or so on his clarifying question about soul colors, so that'll come up again shortly. but easy stuff — histories — first. )
no subject
It's probably not a colloquial that exists in Auldrant, anyway--at least not in reference to anything other than plants considered obnoxious in gardens--but clearly that's not what she's actually talking about here. ...Must be some other sort of substance. She doesn't seem particularly distraught at the moment, at least, but Jade's already making a mental note to check in on her in proper morning hours...by which time whatever this is will have either hopefully worn off, or will be requiring more active intervention--
But for now...well...]
Oh, only two weeds! Well, then, I'm sure that's nothing to worry about at all. No lectures from me for now! 🙂 [For now.] Far be it from me to ruin the fun you're clearly currently having at the moment here
[...Admittedly, after all. This is a very interesting vein of conversation, suddenly. ...Questioning her in an altered state like this probably isn't the kindest thing to do, but that is the beginning of an answer to a question Jade's been harboring ever since he had to cauterize that stab wound of hers all that time back. Never got around to properly asking about it, and now...]
Is that why your blood is black? I'd been wondering about that, for some time...I've never seen anything quite like it.
[Hmmm. This does warrant some equivalent exchange, perhaps, even if Jade's still fairly sure Clarke may not be able to parse the more technical details at the moment. ...But keeping it simpler, maybe...]
My experiment did work in a sense, yes. It made me a more powerful fonist, which was what I wanted at that time. I'd applied the sigils to my eyes improperly, though; hadn't expected the color to change. The glyph symbology is also permanently unstable now, so that needs to be addressed fairly constantly.
And your own experiment, with your blood. Did it work in turn? ["Radiation resistance", hm...]
no subject
she's taking that promise of no impending lecture at face value, goes so far as to nod to herself and if asked to describe an emotion, would lean towards content. besides, the conversation pushes on. where being high as balls has dissolved most of her brain to mouth (to fingers) filter, and while the ink color of her blood is no closely guarded, meaningful secret, the origins of it seldom come up in conversation. that's true for most facts about clarke griffin, she doesn't like talking about herself, her atrocities, or her failures. it'll be a marked moment, later. tomorrow. whenever she rereads this conversation and doesn't mind that jade knows. )
Natblida.
that's what the grounders called them. it's a geneetic mutation, and only the people borne with the blood can ascend to be come a Commander and carry The Flame. they're basically royalty, and we noticed they recovered from radiation sickness quicker than anyone else.
1st test subject died awfully. emori was next and I couldn't do that to her in the end
( ...that's not what he asked is it... )
when I got here Ii didn't think it did. thought idied in the Deathwave, last thing I remembered was every cell in my body burning and my lungs filled with blood.
but Friday says I live long enough back home to kill my mom, so it had to have worked
( ... )
wanted At the time"? did that change?
you're not a baby anymore, can't you fix whatever you did wrong?
1/2
There's actually--a lot here, now isn't there? It's almost impressive, honestly, how much Clarke manages to cram into these few sentences; a great deal to unpack. A part of Jade finds himself intrigued by this talk of "genetic mutations", the resistance to sickness afforded; "radiation" as a concept is a familiar one, though it bears stronger ties to technology from the Dawn Age, scattered records of the aftermath of the truly terrible sorts of weapons developed during the Fonic Wars in that time. Not the sort of thing easily resisted in general, really, but...
These are questions that are quelled, in the end. Alongside the ones about the more thorough definitions of such terms as "grounders" and "The Flame" and the "Deathwave". Clarke discloses her apparent last memory before awaking upon this ship, but...even after that. Oh, the layers of that news, where Friday's concerned--]
She told you of things you would do, in the future of your timeline back home? [Killed her own mother, no less. --No judgment rendered here, much the same way there isn't any rendered for the girl named Emori or the other nameless test subject, and the grisly experiments apparently levied over their heads in the name of survival. Goodness knows he's the last to throw stones on that front--and in general, there just isn't enough context here to yet form any strong opinion either way. But...] That seems rather cruel of her. It's unfortunate you've learned of such a thing.
[...Condolences might be hollow, in this sort of situation. Jade's still well aware Clarke's pretty clearly in an altered state, at the moment, and it's a nagging thing that thoroughly quells the urge to try digging for more information all around here. He'd truly much prefer discussing such heavy matters with a sober and present-minded Clarke, honestly--if she would still wish to, by that time. So, for now...]
2/2
But yes, that did change. The things I want now are quite departed from what my childhood self might have wished for, and being a powerful fonist has attained me none of them in the end. [Honestly, for the most part, being a powerful fonist really only made everything...worse....
But that second bit there, that's a fair question. Blunt phrasing regardless.]
Still, alas, even as my current non-baby self a fix is rather easier said than done. The risk runs quite high that the process of trying to remove the glyphs at this point would permanently blind me. [
And maybe there's a small part of him that still thinks the least he deserves is dealing with this mistake, same as all the others. But anyway--] For now I've found mitigating measures that work well enough, anyhow. ...I suppose you've been assuming I wear these glasses of mine to correct my vision, haven't you?1/2
I made her so maaaaaaaad, Jade.
2/2
plus, clarke knows her own story. she knows her own history and terminology and and thoughts and feelings and — secrets.
the one he's chosen to hint at here absolutely flooring her once the meaning catches up. )
Do You have 2020 vision?
( wait, er. )
yOu have magic mitigating glasses?
1/2 clarke please
I suppose making her angry would invoke something like that...
[And now he wants to ask why?? Does he actually want to ask this though. ...Maybe not...right now. Altered state, still, though at this point Jade's genuinely uncertain whether Clarke's motivations there would actually be any more sensible explained soberly.
Besides that, though, there is something unfortunately impressive about Clarke managing to set off the chronically nervously-cordial Friday...]
2/2
20/10, actually! You can't join the army without perfect vision. Where Malkuth's forces might be concerned, at least...
But yes, that's about the gist. To put it as simply as possible, my glasses currently prevent my eyes from exploding. 😊
[On one hand: maybe kind of mean to phrase it quite like this. But on the other hand: if this doesn't succeed in completely and utterly sidetracking Clarke from any further talk of unfortunate interactions with Friday currently...well, he sure doesn't know what else might--]
no subject
that's so cool! Absolutely groovy. ( thank the cultural syntax absorption of the ship (vance and diana abel specifically) for this praise. )
well, awful and scary, I don't even remember getting my eye torn out and it puts my Teeth on edge.
your eyes dind't explode first time we met though.
( "first time we met", you know, the sleep-sneak attack where natsuno'd eventually had to point out the spectacles off to the side, on the floor. thinking on jade's glasses, clarke also remembers putting them on his face after the rover incident. hmmmm... )
i want magic glasses
no subject
It is indeed sometimes groovy and sometimes a bit awful. Caution with one's eyes is a fairly base instinct for most people for a reason. [Shame his childhood self had no such sense of self-preservation whatsoever, though...] I've had quite a lot of time to get used to the idea of it by now, either way, so it's not a more pressing concern to me these days.
My eyes won't explode the second my glasses leave my face, after all! They're fontech, there's a stabilizer built into the lenses; without it, the glyphs in my eyes begin to unravel, which doesn't necessarily happen all at once. Based off past tests, I start developing migraines and poorer eyesight after about 8 hours without a stabilizer, and symptoms worsen from there. I suspect I could probably go almost three days without, but obviously it's not exactly something I'm keen to find out.
[Hmm, is this too much? Will she be able to parse most of this? Maybe not, but the correspondence will still be there for later future review too. Clarke's the first person to directly ask about his eyes like this, actually, though she's the second to learn the constraints of their limits; Doctor Watson was the first on that front. Jade doesn't consider it a secret to closely guard by any stretch, but it just generally doesn't come up very often in normal conversation...]
Whatever do you want "magic glasses" for yourself, though? I wasn't aware you had any issue with your eyes currently, apart from that one occasion of unfortunate damage. Or am I wrong?
no subject
one thing that strikes her interest though: )
is this why you don't sleep a lot?
( insomniac recognizes insomniac. )
are you scared about your eyes? Or the headaches?
( ... should she shut up? probably. some of us actually do have secrets about our failings we'd like to keep hush hush but, again, the magically mitigating brain-to-mouth-to-text filter seems to have dissolved. )
and I want magic everything, jAde.
do you get what it would be like being surrounded by magic, steeped in it, reliant and conjugated ( "subjugated", but continue going off clarke. ) by it, a little scared of it, and not able to do anything about it because you are only human?
because if you don't, I'll tell you it really sucks
no subject
For the most part, yes! It's rather difficult to sleep with glasses on without eventually damaging them, you see. But on the other hand, waking every morning after a standard 8 hours to considerable pain isn't terribly ideal either. So, with time I adjusted my sleep schedule accordingly.
[...]
Scared? Not particularly. Being afraid of something you've wrought upon yourself isn't particularly productive, after all.
[...Hm. Though the fact she'd be concerned is...touching? If it's concern after all; harder to tell, these things, in written correspondence.
And then again, sometimes there are feelings that shine through no matter the medium. Clarke's prompt answer after that--about magic, and her feelings about being entrenched in it, and her burning desire to have it in any form--it's another bit of a surprise, the sheer vehemence of it.
Jade, who has been considered frighteningly talented in the use of fonic artes since the age of four--who was inventing new spells wholesale by the time he was eight--who would go on to create truly terrible things, and subsequently wished he'd never been allowed to wield such talent at all, in darker hours--frowns a bit at this portion of Clarke's message, for a protracted moment or so.]
Well, I must confess. Though I remain human, at the end of the day, it's still likely true that I wouldn't quite know this exact feeling you describe.
I'm happy to take your word for the fact that it could, indeed, suck.
...And you believe having "magic everything" would be enough to ease this feeling?
no subject
on her end of the phone, clarke scoffs because — yeah, that makes sense, of course he wouldn't know. it really fucking sucks, she mutters aloud in her dark room, to no one in particular. )
i think it'd level the playingfield.
imagine the look on Ebalon's face nect time he tries to stab me with moon spears and they just shatter like glass. literally fucking eclipsed.
I wouldn't hvae bled to death if I could heal with magic, or busted my head on Jenny's ship if i had flying magic, or gotten burned if i could make magic shields ( she isn't even the least bit mad at rita, and all the hurt feelings are numbed and compartmentalized, and there've been apologies. but the fact still remains. ) maybe I could make a magic captain sized box. or maybe i could at least just help. really help. here. I dont know what Im doing half the time.
all the time.
You've never felt completelypowerless?
1/2
That he could only study Natsuno's remains in that closet, after the decision he'd made without telling anyone--a decision Jade surely should have been able to see coming? That he couldn't actually tell at all, when his closer friends here were first possessed by shades, and failed to act even on piqued suspicions until he'd be killed while robbed of his own will in the process?
That he still doesn't fully understand how this transpired to begin with, nor know how to fully amd completely prevent this from ever happening again? That he's made no further progress than anyone else here, on finding a way to sever every passenger from the bonds of this ship without fading to oblivion in the process?
That it still feels overwhelmingly likely they'll all be collectively living out the rest of their limited lives in this place?
...To not even touch upon events back home, before all this. Professor Nebilim, Fon Master Ion, Luke...
Ah, but he had magic in all those occasions, so surely he never should have felt powerless. Right?]
2/2
......Or perhaps he won't.]
I'd say that I have, in fact. But evidently you wouldn't believe me, now would you?
[Inadvisable as it remains, to have a properly sincere conversation with Clarke in this state. Not when it remains impossible to truly tell, if she's speaking her true thoughts on these matters.
(There's a part of Jade that hopes, after all, that her perception of this topic isn't truly this childish. ....No, surely not. Must be an exaggeration of the substance she's been enjoying, of late. And in that case, the most appropriate response would be--)]
The night grows later still, Clarke. I think you ought to get some sleep.
no subject
of course I believe you, Jade.
So you do get it.
( but would she consider herself a little more screwed just by being thrown up against concepts and villains the likes of which her world'd never even dreamed of? yes. but at least sober she wouldn't have said most of that out loud. )
you know it Really Fucking Sucks, and if it were possible to get a leg up you would want it, right?
everyone needs to stop telling me to sleep. tomorrow's just gojng to be back to normal
no subject
But, until then, there are simply these inadvertent sorts of stabbings. And here, at least, the benefits of written correspondence still thrive. She doesn't know just how stinging her question actually was, and that's just as well. At the end of the day, as far as Jade's concerned, these nagging uncertainties are his own to deal with--just as Clarke's magic envy is hers, regardless of how she feels about it boiling over quite like this later. ...Or so he'd like to look at it, anyway.
(Very probably, on some future where half-baked desperate magic from a certain someone wreaks havoc, Jade may well look back at this conversation...and spot yet another remarkable failing of his own perception, where reckless teenagers might be concerned.)]Obviously anyone would want such a thing, if it were only truly that easy.
Perhaps one day you might yet find the magic glasses you're looking for. But I have none to give you, at this time.
[You know, metaphorically. But also literally, too...]
Well, tomorrow you may very well be sober, yes. [...Not that he doesn't think he understands what she means on a baser sort of level, with that bit. Alas--] Unfortunately it'll arrive whether you sleep or not, however, so at this point it's more a matter of just how sleep-deprived you want to be when you address it once more.
But far be it from me to dictate your choices on these matters! I'm sure you'd continue musing on things like soul colors even if you found yourself a bed right now, wouldn't you?
no subject
"at this time" though, jade? dangerous words, a brighter mind might — and likely will — pick up on the fact that all she needs is a pair of sunglasses from sundries, the man's good will and trust, and the right motivational speech for that to be a possible reality.
or not even that much, just the idea, a knife, and a few drops of her own blood...
BUT! for now. )
uuuuuugh.
( for now she just hates that he's right. and while clarke's starting to see the social cues to leave him alone: )
I'm already ina bed. well, a couch. ( palamedes had deposited her there some time ago. and you know what she'd forgotten to ask him before he left — )
what color do you think your soul is?
red, like your eyes? They don't have to match, I don't think. mine's probably red, like rust or dried blood, or all consuming fire.
no subject
That aside, though. Yes all that aside now. (Good will and trust may...be attainable. But that had best be quite the motivational speech indeed--)]
You know, you never did answer whether wickedness would darken the color. I suppose we're using rather arbitrary metrics all around here, though. And if wickedness is a factor, why, my soul might very well be dark as pitch!
[Is he joking? Is he serious?? More mysteries for text correspondence to shoulder....
There's certainly a rather concerningly drawn pause after that, too. As if Jade has given up on dropping social cues to end the conversation at this point, and has simply taken on the initiative for himself. .......But then:]
Or perhaps gray, setting subjective character aside. [...] There is a certain color that clouds take on, on a morning before it snows. Have you seen such a thing before?
no subject
I dont think you're all that wicked. even if you were, human beings contain multitudes
you wanna do better, then do better. I was going to guess seafoam green. like your uniform if it wasn'tt awful.
But grey sounds nice. i've never even seen snow, Jade. enough normal storm clouds though, are they all that different?
no subject
He's been trying.]
Hmmm, it's a little surprising you don't think that. Then again, I still occasionally forget that my reputation no longer precedes me here.
[And no, he's not going to elaborate on that either! Instead--]
Snow clouds can be somewhat different from storm clouds, yes. The energy that precedes the approach of the front is different...less heavy, more still. If it's morning, clouds bearing snow are less dark or rounded, more of a flat slate. You look out the window and you know the day will be a very quiet one; snow tends to consume sound quite readily. [...] My hometown was in a very cold northern region. It's winter there year-round. I don't know if I'd recommend the experience, but perhaps we may yet see snow at some point on this ship too.
[During an excursion, perhaps. If it isn't one full of death, hopefully. ...But anyway--]
That aside, though, seafoam green is also quite alright 🌊! In fact, let's just settle on that, much less complicated.
I'd apologize for my uniform being awful, but I will not, because I did not design it. Still, your complaints are duly noted all the same.
no subject
that sounds so pretty. I wish I could see it.
( then, because she's high and a mess: )
i would destroy you in a snowball fight, seafoam ⛄⛄⛄
no subject
Oh, not aloud though. That would be sappy. Especially when Clarke just so happens to be throwing down a gauntlet like that, so very conveniently!]
Oho, you think so? That you'd stand a chance against me, undisputed snowball-fight champion of my hometown before I left?
I've knowledge of forbidden snowball artes that you've never even dreamed of ☃️🙂 But perhaps I could be persuaded to pass them down, if you ever prove yourself worthy!
no subject
but there's absolutely no time to dwell on that anymore, because war has been declared and jade's talking mad shit. you know what supercedes fuzzy happy warm tingly highs? a fierce competitive streak. the same that saw her kicking natsuno off racing bikes and affectionately drowning pal at sea. )
ooooh I bet you were great when you were young. but times change and it's well beyond when you should pass the torch.
when i roll you up like a snowman an you're old arthritic joints cry mercy, you'll know whatworthy looks like 🙃🙃🙃
(no subject)
(no subject)