[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 🙃🙃🙃
Goodness, no need to drag the poor joints of the elderly into all this! Such a cheap blow to level at a frail old man, don't you think? 😢😢
[Look, it's just funnier when you outright embrace it.....but oh, he certainly does see that competitive streak. This is amusing as well, in its own way. Nearly has Jade hoping they might yet embark on a snowy excursion one of these days after all...
Nearly.
But for now...]
You'd best start thinking on what tactics you'll employ as you get yourself to sleep, here. Never too early to plan these things, after all!
Goodnight to you, Clarke.
[As direct as a gentle nudge can be, really, because the fact still remains that this correspondence needs to cut off at some sort of pass here. If she doesn't rest soon she really is going to regret whatever substance-related decision she's made today all the more in the next morning, and he's trying not to be wholly responsible for that...]
( THIS time at least, the social nicety net snags clarke's attention and, mulling it over, she finds that she's pretty tired and could definitely sleep. she is already a-couch, nestled under blankets and holding a squishmallow under her arm. pal had tucked her in, read horny poetry then boring poetry, and this is just a late night wakeup that spawned a few thoughts that couldn't go unanswered.
but yeah, she could snooze. and decidedly will. )
night Night, jade you dream of snow and snowball fights when you sleep too.
( then her phone gets perched on the nearby coffee table and clarke rolls on her side. time to sleep and, in a few hours, regret literally everything she'd ever texted. )
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come_sailaway
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
[Look, it's just funnier when you outright embrace it.....but oh, he certainly does see that competitive streak. This is amusing as well, in its own way. Nearly has Jade hoping they might yet embark on a snowy excursion one of these days after all...
Nearly.
But for now...]
You'd best start thinking on what tactics you'll employ as you get yourself to sleep, here. Never too early to plan these things, after all!
Goodnight to you, Clarke.
[As direct as a gentle nudge can be, really, because the fact still remains that this correspondence needs to cut off at some sort of pass here. If she doesn't rest soon she really is going to regret whatever substance-related decision she's made today all the more in the next morning, and he's trying not to be wholly responsible for that...]
no subject
but yeah, she could snooze. and decidedly will. )
night Night, jade
you dream of snow and snowball fights when you sleep too.
( then her phone gets perched on the nearby coffee table and clarke rolls on her side. time to sleep and, in a few hours, regret literally everything she'd ever texted. )