No. I wouldn't be, would I? [It'shard to explain, exactly, what this means to her. What it means to have somewhere to go, to have a friend that she can rely on. It's why she reached out to Markus in the first place, and why she thinks so highly of him. He may not buy into everything that everyone else sees in him, but that doesn't matter. It would be strange if he did, anyway.]
If it turns out I can, I'll definitely be open to it.
[The issue is that he believes Clarke can be at peace. Even she isn't certain that she can.]
[He'll allow himself some optimism, that stringent spark of hope, so she can find such peace. To let it nestle and grow; or at least give it a chance to.
He might not be the same as a face from her own world, he might not be able to truly relate to her circumstances, being so departed from them. But a friend is a friend is a friend -- Clarke is one of his closest, and he only wants to see those around him happy. It's simple, really.]
Well, you'll have plenty of time to think about it. But the offer will continue to stand, no matter how long it takes for us to unearth all the answers we need.
[He leans back in his seat, smile gone lopsided.]
You'd be able to eat real meat without having to empty your bank account, too. Detroit isn't perfect even on a good day, but I think there'd be a multitude of things about 2038 that you'd like.
You know, before Praimfaya hit ... [Although the word isn't translated—Clarke doesn't speak Trigedasleng enough for it to be translated, not yet—it sounds exactly like how one might expect: "prime fire," with a little more emphasis on the R in the fire sounding like a Y. She doesn't think twice about using it, about speaking it. Referring to it as she's come to think of it comes naturally in Markus' presence.] ... before then, when we all hit the ground in the first place, we used to hunt for meat. I got pretty good at it.
[Smoking was never her strong suit. She could do it when needed, but coming to rely on Niylah had made her life easier. Her struggles on her own were comical at first.]
I miss having that option. I don't know that I'd take it up again, but meat stands alone pretty well.
[Says a teenager sent to earth wildly ill-prepared by "Earth Skills" classes.]
[An impressive skillset to have, though Markus considers that of everything that he cannot do. It further illustrates just how well-rounded they are as a group; the potential of so much between them.]
It sounds like hard work, and probably not easily learned. The most ‘hunting’ I ever did was trying to weave through busy crowds at the grocery stores before a big holiday hit.
[She opens her mouth to speak, and since the conversation seems less intense, less like one of them (Clarke, it's Clarke) is about to cry, their server comes over and takes their drink order. It's obvious from Clarke's expression that she hasn't bothered to read her menu. Honestly, she wanted Markus' company more than she wanted food, so the pairing part of it has gone out the window. It just—it seemed like a thing. A thing to enjoy.]
Praimfaya ... It's a word in Trigedasleng, which is the language of the people on the ground. [Of the tree people, in theory, but she knows that every nation speaks it. Clarke has learned a lot of their history, but never as much as she'd like. If she had been given more time with the Flame, she'd know. But that's neither here nor there.]
My ground. The ones who somehow survived the apocalypse. It means the first flame, the point when rebirth happened. There's a chance it's connected to a cult that believed that people would rise from the ashes. [This is a time when she wishes she had spoken to Jaha about it more in theory than in terms of trying to find a solution. Maybe if she'd been in the bunker with him. Maybe.]
Somehow it's come to refer to the act of the planet burning itself. It feels more encompassing than, well. "Nuclear reactors broke down."
[The wine is definitely meant to be enjoyed, and eventually they’ll have to decide on the food, too — but regardless, he’s of the same mind of Clarke. It’s the company that matters. His ability to provide support when needed, an ear that’ll listen, a friend to be near.
Her explanation only feeds further into the imagery he has of her world, some harsh apocalyptic reality that he’s sorry she has to live through. The planet burning itself. Nuclear reactors failing and setting the world alight.]
How was everyone able to adapt once a disaster like that happened? That would be… an impossible amount of radiation sweeping over the planet, wouldn’t it?
[That's because there is no real way to view her world in a more pleasant light. It's all that and more. People at war. People believing that because they were lucky enough to have certain abilities (skills, not powers), they should be allowed to succeed. (Clarke had been talked into that once, believing that it was also better to save some people than all people. She would never do that again.)
She shakes her head.]
The first time? I don't have the whole picture, but Becca—she was ALIE's ... ["Creator." As much as Clarke knows their conversation would be strange to overhear, talk of AI would be even worse in a place like this. Plus, it's Markus' work. She doesn't finish the thought. She's certain he can piece it together.]
She wanted to make up for what she did. The Flame I described to you and Connor before—it was originally meant to sync up with the Ark where I grew up. That didn't happen as planned, so she went down to the ground with it and some additional technology that she had developed. Blood that could withstand radiation. Black blood.
[Which she has mentioned before, and might again. Her golden ticket to another Insomniac's Ball.]
This blood changed people permanently, and it eventually became a recessive gene, passed on. And thus, so did the Flame. [And for those who didn't have the blood itself, they were still changed, albeit to a lesser extent.]
[Black blood. A subject that’s come up more than once, even applied to her. Markus, in his limited knowledge, had surmised that it might have been a mutation prevalent in her world, something twisted into the genetic code by way of impossible radiation — her explanation is not too far off the mark, though more dependent upon technology, if he’s understanding correctly, than being warped by the environment itself.]
The same blood you mentioned that runs through your own veins. Even now?
[Untouched, unmarred, by their arrival to New Amsterdam? Where some harbored complete changes, some were more unfortunate than the rest.]
It does. I got it through different means, though. [Yet another case where Clarke has to conceal the whole story. For as much as she's told Markus about her life before, the fine details slip through the cracks. What if she had told him that? Told any of them that? What would they think?
She can just recall Connor's approach to Jason, and how much she's aware that she may be the most dangerous of them all. If pushed, Clarke knows the full extent of what she's capable of on any given day.]
We tested a solution involving it. I say "we," as if I had any involvement in it. We eventually realized that bone marrow was the key. [It always is in her world.] Anyway, we needed a live subject. I needed a live subject.
[Clarke is good at that, introducing general ideas or wide tracts of information where the details might not shine through. Where they become lost in the general weave of the tapestry itself, and Markus is pulled along with the narrative at the pace in which she dictates.
But it doesn’t always quell his curiosity. The occasional question that seeks out those same particulars rise to the surface, and he has no reason to not ask them.]
And what happened?
[A “live subject”, a phrase that never really implies anything pleasant.]
Is this solution the reason why your blood changed, or something else?
[Point of clarification. Slow down. Clear it up. She nods, realizing that she has to do it so that he understands.]
We called it the Nightblood solution. There was only one known one left in the world, so we worked with her to figure out the best means to make the serum. It was clear that we needed a zero gravity environment to do it, so we had to try other resorts. The Nightblood would allow us to survive the radiation outside, though once I injected myself, my mom wouldn't ... she didn't accept my choice, and she destroyed our testing equipment.
[Clarke wouldn't have survived that particular scenario, however. It needed to be radiation over a longer period of time.]
I did what I needed to for my people. [A thing she believes Markus may understand too well.]
No. I don't blame her. [Just like she couldn't blame Bellamy for nearly forcing her to shoot him when it turned into whether Clarke's decision to steal the bunker was fair or not, especially when his sister was left outside. She knew what would come of that decision, and was prepared to force it on him. No matter what.
Markus doesn't know that her mother watched someone melt from radiation not long before. From a different version of the test. Clarke will conceal that for now.]
I just wish I'd been able to show them that it was a solution. [As she's still alive, not trapped in a place with little escape. As that outcome would mean she'd know her people.]
[The question hangs for a moment, before he exhales a little, borrowing her regret.]
We’re similar in a lot of ways. I always regret making others worry, or taking risks for the greater good, to protect others; but I know myself well enough to that I’d always make the same decision, again and again.
[Connor calls it stubbornness. Maybe it is — maybe it’s an indelible trait for people like themselves.]
Yes. [Clarke doesn't have to think twice. Even with Mount Weather—Clarke wishes she could see another way, but the timing, the corner she'd been forced in to ... all of it left her without answers.
The problem to her is that Markus doesn't see the extent of what she's done. Yes, there was that day in the park when he'd been different. That ruthless side of him hasn't had to come to light. And yet.
It could.
She just hopes it never has to.]
I hope you're never in my shoes. I say yes, but there's always a part of me that hesitates. That knows that there may be places where I shouldn't say that. [But her people will always come first.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
If it turns out I can, I'll definitely be open to it.
[The issue is that he believes Clarke can be at peace. Even she isn't certain that she can.]
no subject
He might not be the same as a face from her own world, he might not be able to truly relate to her circumstances, being so departed from them. But a friend is a friend is a friend -- Clarke is one of his closest, and he only wants to see those around him happy. It's simple, really.]
Well, you'll have plenty of time to think about it. But the offer will continue to stand, no matter how long it takes for us to unearth all the answers we need.
[He leans back in his seat, smile gone lopsided.]
You'd be able to eat real meat without having to empty your bank account, too. Detroit isn't perfect even on a good day, but I think there'd be a multitude of things about 2038 that you'd like.
no subject
[Smoking was never her strong suit. She could do it when needed, but coming to rely on Niylah had made her life easier. Her struggles on her own were comical at first.]
I miss having that option. I don't know that I'd take it up again, but meat stands alone pretty well.
[Says a teenager sent to earth wildly ill-prepared by "Earth Skills" classes.]
no subject
It sounds like hard work, and probably not easily learned. The most ‘hunting’ I ever did was trying to weave through busy crowds at the grocery stores before a big holiday hit.
[A light joke, though nonetheless true.]
What’s “Praimfaya” refer to?
no subject
Praimfaya ... It's a word in Trigedasleng, which is the language of the people on the ground. [Of the tree people, in theory, but she knows that every nation speaks it. Clarke has learned a lot of their history, but never as much as she'd like. If she had been given more time with the Flame, she'd know. But that's neither here nor there.]
My ground. The ones who somehow survived the apocalypse. It means the first flame, the point when rebirth happened. There's a chance it's connected to a cult that believed that people would rise from the ashes. [This is a time when she wishes she had spoken to Jaha about it more in theory than in terms of trying to find a solution. Maybe if she'd been in the bunker with him. Maybe.]
Somehow it's come to refer to the act of the planet burning itself. It feels more encompassing than, well. "Nuclear reactors broke down."
no subject
Her explanation only feeds further into the imagery he has of her world, some harsh apocalyptic reality that he’s sorry she has to live through. The planet burning itself. Nuclear reactors failing and setting the world alight.]
How was everyone able to adapt once a disaster like that happened? That would be… an impossible amount of radiation sweeping over the planet, wouldn’t it?
no subject
She shakes her head.]
The first time? I don't have the whole picture, but Becca—she was ALIE's ... ["Creator." As much as Clarke knows their conversation would be strange to overhear, talk of AI would be even worse in a place like this. Plus, it's Markus' work. She doesn't finish the thought. She's certain he can piece it together.]
She wanted to make up for what she did. The Flame I described to you and Connor before—it was originally meant to sync up with the Ark where I grew up. That didn't happen as planned, so she went down to the ground with it and some additional technology that she had developed. Blood that could withstand radiation. Black blood.
[Which she has mentioned before, and might again. Her golden ticket to another Insomniac's Ball.]
This blood changed people permanently, and it eventually became a recessive gene, passed on. And thus, so did the Flame. [And for those who didn't have the blood itself, they were still changed, albeit to a lesser extent.]
no subject
The same blood you mentioned that runs through your own veins. Even now?
[Untouched, unmarred, by their arrival to New Amsterdam? Where some harbored complete changes, some were more unfortunate than the rest.]
no subject
She can just recall Connor's approach to Jason, and how much she's aware that she may be the most dangerous of them all. If pushed, Clarke knows the full extent of what she's capable of on any given day.]
We tested a solution involving it. I say "we," as if I had any involvement in it. We eventually realized that bone marrow was the key. [It always is in her world.] Anyway, we needed a live subject. I needed a live subject.
no subject
But it doesn’t always quell his curiosity. The occasional question that seeks out those same particulars rise to the surface, and he has no reason to not ask them.]
And what happened?
[A “live subject”, a phrase that never really implies anything pleasant.]
Is this solution the reason why your blood changed, or something else?
no subject
We called it the Nightblood solution. There was only one known one left in the world, so we worked with her to figure out the best means to make the serum. It was clear that we needed a zero gravity environment to do it, so we had to try other resorts. The Nightblood would allow us to survive the radiation outside, though once I injected myself, my mom wouldn't ... she didn't accept my choice, and she destroyed our testing equipment.
[Clarke wouldn't have survived that particular scenario, however. It needed to be radiation over a longer period of time.]
I did what I needed to for my people. [A thing she believes Markus may understand too well.]
no subject
Yes, Markus would understand that quite well.]
I would’ve done the same. But it’s hard to blame others that… care for you to not see it that way.
[Markus can see both sides, even if he stands defiantly on one.]
no subject
Markus doesn't know that her mother watched someone melt from radiation not long before. From a different version of the test. Clarke will conceal that for now.]
I just wish I'd been able to show them that it was a solution. [As she's still alive, not trapped in a place with little escape. As that outcome would mean she'd know her people.]
no subject
[The question hangs for a moment, before he exhales a little, borrowing her regret.]
We’re similar in a lot of ways. I always regret making others worry, or taking risks for the greater good, to protect others; but I know myself well enough to that I’d always make the same decision, again and again.
[Connor calls it stubbornness. Maybe it is — maybe it’s an indelible trait for people like themselves.]
You would too, wouldn’t you?
no subject
The problem to her is that Markus doesn't see the extent of what she's done. Yes, there was that day in the park when he'd been different. That ruthless side of him hasn't had to come to light. And yet.
It could.
She just hopes it never has to.]
I hope you're never in my shoes. I say yes, but there's always a part of me that hesitates. That knows that there may be places where I shouldn't say that. [But her people will always come first.]