[One of the benefits of texting: Rita's immediate, instinctual response is that the conversation was forever ago, but where she might have just blurted that out in person, it never passes the slightly more discerning brain filter that taking the time to type it out gives her.
Besides: Clarke mentions Darcy, and Rita practically sees red.]
Darcy can mind her own damn business. She didn't do anything to you, did she?
[Putting anything at that memorial was a mistake, really, when Darcy's always hovering over it like the loudest, angriest, most annoying and despicable and idiotic fly.
Yeah, their relationship has only gone even colder than before, somehow.]
( it's honestly incredibly heartening to weather the storm of rita's rage on her behalf. but clarke only allows herself a few seconds of blossoming affection before tampering that down; it does no one service to send her friend after her antagonizer for something as small as bumps and bruises.
and she doesn't want to chance rita getting hurt. )
No. Don't think the lesson would stick anyways.
Sports deck stairs, about halfway down. But I promise it's fine, Rita. All I needed was the knowledge that it wasn't it vain.
[Okay like--yeah Darcy's proven they're not capable of getting a single thing through that thick skull of theirs. But also the knowledge that it wasn't in vain doesn't sound like the sort of thing someone says when they're fine.
Also: it's Clarke.]
Normally it's the value in crafting that's important, not the aesthetics.
But more importantly, tell me how fine you REALLY are.
I mean, I don't know anything about crafting. Was this one well done?
( literally just looks like a pretty marble to her, but clarke griffin's interest in magical items did not die with her.
for a moment she considers ignoring that demand for honesty, because fine or not it hardly really matters anymore, right? but she's well aware of the rift left in her disappearance, and the subsequent worry that follows. also, it's rita. she set the other girl's nose once. it feels fair. )
Everything's going to bruise really bad, but nothing's broken. I will be fine, provided Darcy doesn't track me down.
It's not my area of expertise either, but it's good to have a general knowledge of useful ingredients. The hippo breath is an ingredient in crafting, but it may not have much use here.
[She doesn't know that Pratt or Sharky might be able to do something with it, so it might as well be a pretty marble. A pretty, solidified hippo yawn.
But again, more importantly: Clarke offers an honest assessment, and Rita appreciates that, but also feels her anger start simmering again.]
( a pretty marble that will now be living in clarke's pocket from this point forward until... well, if the world truly does collapse on itself, right up until the moment she dissolves. it was a very kind sentiment, even if clarke doesn't outright say thank you in this moment. )
I'd guess so. There were were some pretty colorful threats about mummification included, but I'm not really worried.
There's just no shutting that big ugly mouth, is there?
[Talking a big game and fueling their own victim complex, or whatever the hell their problem is--that's the only thing Darcy's good at, in Rita's opinion. But she's also seen how violent and unhinged they are, so Clarke confirming that she's probably still a target spurs her to action.]
No, got out of there as quickly as I could. ( worth mentioning she'd sent darcy flying with a stolen hackjob of a blood sigil tattoo? naaaah, not yet at least. ) I'm hiding in the arcade for a minute.
( yanno, doing what any good feral teen does and systematically coiling stuffing from the new build-a-bear machine around her hand in spools. this would make excellent incendiary material. )
But seriously, it's fine. I don't want you to get involved, or fighting Darcy on my behalf. Only one of us needs to be covered in bruises right now, Rita.
[Rita changes her mental destination, then, having already left her cabin but not yet reached the elevator--but she's not surprised that Clarke's moved elsewhere, considering.]
I'm coming to make sure you don't get any more bruises.
[Or worse, she doesn't say. But either way, Clarke isn't get out of a protective escort for at least the rest of the night.]
As if I'd just leave you there like it's not my business.
( clarke considers throwing up more of a stink about the whole ordeal, possibly insisting she — a 19-20 year old woman — does not need to be babysat by a 12 year old in order to protect her from the consequences of her own actions. but, like, has anyone ever really won an argument of reason with rita? if they have, did they ever win more than one?
(also, there's just something strangely warm in her chest emanating from the fact she's got friends who love her like this. remembered or not, the time spent in the nothing must have been incredibly lonely and she doesn't do isolated very well.) )
You're saying that like I went out and planned to get beat to hell by inanimate steps. But okay, fine. I'll be here.
[Nope, Clarke is not going to argue her out of this one, and so it's with no small amount of satisfaction that she sees that reply. Rita won't escalate by hunting down Darcy, but she will make sure Clarke is okay and stays that way.]
Good, because you're not losing another fight to stairs tonight.
[Yeah, a mild joke, and then Rita's off towards the arcade; it's not long before she steps inside to the noise of jingling arcade games, and she shows some discretion by not just yelling for Clarke in case Darcy's still skulking around. Instead, she passes a few rows of games, glancing around, and just raising her voice only slightly-]
( not too quiet, but not too loud comes the summoning towards the back of the arcade. clarke is currently housed within the jurassic park shooting game booth, curtain closed and legs drawn up while the start menu plays the notable john william's score over and over again. she's finished spooling processed cotton into large handfuls and shoving them into her serena eterna branded tote bag and was just sitting with legs drawn up on the gaming bench, focused on breathing and taking an internal inventory of every painful place a bruise might welt in the future.
but at the sound of rita's voice, clarke reaches to jerk back the curtain nearest to her. extends a hand, waves a bit just to make her location known. then summons a type of strength that can only be categorized as detrimentally determined and pulls herself to her feet to meet her friend. )
You really didn't need to come.
( she says, like she isn't smiling broadly in reaction to seeing rita's face for the second time within four hours. )
[Of course she didn't come for anything so petty as ingratiating Clarke to her, so she's not a serious comeback in the least. If anything, a little grin tugs at the edge of her mouth on seeing Clarke's smile, because it just--feels good to have this rapport with her and see her again.
But she tries not to get too cheerful either, clearing her throat and stepping a little closer to not-at-all subtly eye the other girl up and down to assess the damage.]
( comes the canned, lackluster response. the traditional tired, borderline eyeroll reaction to being more or less told to express thanks. but it's tempered by the easy, casual way they're smiling at each other; some sort of twinkling recognition and affection in both their eyes.
rita's gaze quickly shifts to assessing however, and clarke clocks it easily. obligingly, she picks at the hem of her shirt and lifts it up just enough to show a relatively clear patch of skin ranging from left hip to left ribcage. it's hard to read swelling on this part of the body, and while the discoloration of dark black bruises has not yet set in there is a hint of purpling blood collecting beneath the surface if one were to really squint. but! mostly looks fine for now, yeah? despite how deeply tender her bones feel. )
[Funny, how easily they've settled into this light mutual teasing after such a long separation (if only felt on Rita's end), though maybe it's exactly because of that, too.
It's a line of thinking that persists as Rita leans in to observe Clarke's midriff, noting the slightly darkened patch of skin but otherwise not seeing anything light-threatening, so she straightens up and nods: a satisfactory inspection.]
Good. Losing a fight to a staircase wouldn't exactly do wonders for your image.
[She shies away from a more morbid comeback like good, don't go setting a new record for fastest death, because two years doesn't entirely erase the memory of a sickening crack and a body disappearing beneath the waves. Something neither of them need a reminder for.
Instead, she glances around; she doesn't see anyone hanging around, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything...]
So...are we heading back, or lying low here for a bit? Who knows if that jerk's still slithering around.
( it doesn't need to be expressly spelled out. jumping off the ship has turned out to be clarke's biggest faux pas on the ship to date. it'd netted nothing except worry from those she'd just begun to call friends in the beginning, proof of the revival techniques on the ship, and a free kidney removal. but, you know, it kind of did set the tone of her stay, so far as to say losing a fight with a set of stairs yet still managing to come away victorious from her pursuer fits right into her image.
in the end she snorts. mulls over the options briefly, scanning the entryway to the arcade and coming to the decision: )
Lay low for a little bit. But there's one or two more spots I need to revisit before turning in, and I —
( a thought. occurs.
then digs its claws into the grey matter at the back of her mind. because it's not like she deeply distrusts either arthur or john doe, and not like her weird welcome back to the waking world had been steeped in hostility or anger. it is probably safe to return to 113 any time she wishes, but the fact remains — she does not know the two men nearly as well as she does the likes of rita.
knows rita well enough to at least recall that, at least four months ago, she'd had the privilege of a private room. )
[Rita lets Clarke work through whatever thoughts she's decided to pursue, until--huh, that's unexpected enough to make her blink before responding.]
Nope, it's just me. [She does quickly pick up the meaning here, though. Clarke did already mention that 108 was now her old room, after all.] So there's plenty of space if you want to crash there.
( like rita would have offered if she truly minded. obviously when it came to couch surfing she would have preferred natsuno, just on best friend ranking alone. but he's got a new roommate as well, and if anyone ought to lobby for their right to sleep on his floor it'd probably be jade. and through a series of unfortunate losses and really meaningful moments, rita is currently slotted just below their mutual vampire in terms of endearment. )
I come with baggage and a proverbial price on my head. ( a little more gallows humor, but emphasized as clarke gives the swollen serena eterna branded tote on her shoulder a little shake. no stuffing falls out, but there sure is the rattle of stolen steak knives and infimary items she'd spent the day re-hoarding. )
[They both know it's a pretty unnecessary question, but Rita shakes her head anyway. It's a convenient location anyway, being right across from 109 and all should they want to talk to Natsuno--too bad Jade's now in a different room, though.
Rita hears the rattle of metal and snorts. Yeah, that sounds about right.]
Oh, you know. Enough for the end of the world, like always.
( it's a joke, but also is it? listen, certain things have not yet come to pass that will put clarke squarely at the helm of instigating this reality's upheaval, but the ship looks like shit and she's traumatized from two previous apocalypses okay? )
Rita glances around idly and scuffs a sandalled foot over the carpeted floor. She'd hate for everything to end and be left with her curiosity unsatisfied, no matter how much she keeps telling herself she probably doesn't want to know the answer-
Before she can think better of it, she pipes up again.]
Hey. Mind if I ask you something?
[Except--sorry, she's not actually giving Clarke the chance to give the okay there before barrelling right along with a very obviously apocalyptic sort of question.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
girl please
Besides: Clarke mentions Darcy, and Rita practically sees red.]
Darcy can mind her own damn business. She didn't do anything to you, did she?
[Putting anything at that memorial was a mistake, really, when Darcy's always hovering over it like the loudest, angriest, most annoying and despicable and idiotic fly.
Yeah, their relationship has only gone even colder than before, somehow.]
no subject
( rita & darcy relationship de-evolution: noted via subtext! )
Tripped me down the stairs when I tried to run. I'm fine though.
( ...aaaaaaare you tho, clarke? screaming ribs doth protest. )
no subject
She did WHAT?
Do I need to teach that waste of space a lesson?
[Ohhhh if she has to kill Darcy again dammit--she's not going to waste the time to even feel bad about it. But--oh, that gets quickly followed up-]
You fell down the stairs? Which ones? Because that's not usually fine.
no subject
and she doesn't want to chance rita getting hurt. )
No. Don't think the lesson would stick anyways.
Sports deck stairs, about halfway down. But I promise it's fine, Rita. All I needed was the knowledge that it wasn't it vain.
( ... )
The hippo rock is really pretty, honestly.
no subject
Also: it's Clarke.]
Normally it's the value in crafting that's important, not the aesthetics.
But more importantly, tell me how fine you REALLY are.
no subject
( literally just looks like a pretty marble to her, but clarke griffin's interest in magical items did not die with her.
for a moment she considers ignoring that demand for honesty, because fine or not it hardly really matters anymore, right? but she's well aware of the rift left in her disappearance, and the subsequent worry that follows. also, it's rita. she set the other girl's nose once. it feels fair. )
Everything's going to bruise really bad, but nothing's broken. I will be fine, provided Darcy doesn't track me down.
no subject
[She doesn't know that Pratt or Sharky might be able to do something with it, so it might as well be a pretty marble. A pretty, solidified hippo yawn.
But again, more importantly: Clarke offers an honest assessment, and Rita appreciates that, but also feels her anger start simmering again.]
Is Darcy still after you?
no subject
I'd guess so. There were were some pretty colorful threats about mummification included, but I'm not really worried.
no subject
[Talking a big game and fueling their own victim complex, or whatever the hell their problem is--that's the only thing Darcy's good at, in Rita's opinion. But she's also seen how violent and unhinged they are, so Clarke confirming that she's probably still a target spurs her to action.]
I'm on my way. Just in case.
You're still at the sports deck stairs?
no subject
( yanno, doing what any good feral teen does and systematically coiling stuffing from the new build-a-bear machine around her hand in spools. this would make excellent incendiary material. )
But seriously, it's fine. I don't want you to get involved, or fighting Darcy on my behalf. Only one of us needs to be covered in bruises right now, Rita.
no subject
I'm coming to make sure you don't get any more bruises.
[Or worse, she doesn't say. But either way, Clarke isn't get out of a protective escort for at least the rest of the night.]
As if I'd just leave you there like it's not my business.
no subject
(also, there's just something strangely warm in her chest emanating from the fact she's got friends who love her like this. remembered or not, the time spent in the nothing must have been incredibly lonely and she doesn't do isolated very well.) )
You're saying that like I went out and planned to get beat to hell by inanimate steps. But okay, fine. I'll be here.
no subject
Good, because you're not losing another fight to stairs tonight.
[Yeah, a mild joke, and then Rita's off towards the arcade; it's not long before she steps inside to the noise of jingling arcade games, and she shows some discretion by not just yelling for Clarke in case Darcy's still skulking around. Instead, she passes a few rows of games, glancing around, and just raising her voice only slightly-]
Hey. It's me.
no subject
( not too quiet, but not too loud comes the summoning towards the back of the arcade. clarke is currently housed within the jurassic park shooting game booth, curtain closed and legs drawn up while the start menu plays the notable john william's score over and over again. she's finished spooling processed cotton into large handfuls and shoving them into her serena eterna branded tote bag and was just sitting with legs drawn up on the gaming bench, focused on breathing and taking an internal inventory of every painful place a bruise might welt in the future.
but at the sound of rita's voice, clarke reaches to jerk back the curtain nearest to her. extends a hand, waves a bit just to make her location known. then summons a type of strength that can only be categorized as detrimentally determined and pulls herself to her feet to meet her friend. )
You really didn't need to come.
( she says, like she isn't smiling broadly in reaction to seeing rita's face for the second time within four hours. )
no subject
[Of course she didn't come for anything so petty as ingratiating Clarke to her, so she's not a serious comeback in the least. If anything, a little grin tugs at the edge of her mouth on seeing Clarke's smile, because it just--feels good to have this rapport with her and see her again.
But she tries not to get too cheerful either, clearing her throat and stepping a little closer to not-at-all subtly eye the other girl up and down to assess the damage.]
no subject
( comes the canned, lackluster response. the traditional tired, borderline eyeroll reaction to being more or less told to express thanks. but it's tempered by the easy, casual way they're smiling at each other; some sort of twinkling recognition and affection in both their eyes.
rita's gaze quickly shifts to assessing however, and clarke clocks it easily. obligingly, she picks at the hem of her shirt and lifts it up just enough to show a relatively clear patch of skin ranging from left hip to left ribcage. it's hard to read swelling on this part of the body, and while the discoloration of dark black bruises has not yet set in there is a hint of purpling blood collecting beneath the surface if one were to really squint. but! mostly looks fine for now, yeah? despite how deeply tender her bones feel. )
See? Nothing I won't survive.
no subject
It's a line of thinking that persists as Rita leans in to observe Clarke's midriff, noting the slightly darkened patch of skin but otherwise not seeing anything light-threatening, so she straightens up and nods: a satisfactory inspection.]
Good. Losing a fight to a staircase wouldn't exactly do wonders for your image.
[She shies away from a more morbid comeback like good, don't go setting a new record for fastest death, because two years doesn't entirely erase the memory of a sickening crack and a body disappearing beneath the waves. Something neither of them need a reminder for.
Instead, she glances around; she doesn't see anyone hanging around, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything...]
So...are we heading back, or lying low here for a bit? Who knows if that jerk's still slithering around.
no subject
in the end she snorts. mulls over the options briefly, scanning the entryway to the arcade and coming to the decision: )
Lay low for a little bit. But there's one or two more spots I need to revisit before turning in, and I —
( a thought. occurs.
then digs its claws into the grey matter at the back of her mind. because it's not like she deeply distrusts either arthur or john doe, and not like her weird welcome back to the waking world had been steeped in hostility or anger. it is probably safe to return to 113 any time she wishes, but the fact remains — she does not know the two men nearly as well as she does the likes of rita.
knows rita well enough to at least recall that, at least four months ago, she'd had the privilege of a private room. )
Do you have a roommate?
no subject
Nope, it's just me. [She does quickly pick up the meaning here, though. Clarke did already mention that 108 was now her old room, after all.] So there's plenty of space if you want to crash there.
no subject
( like rita would have offered if she truly minded. obviously when it came to couch surfing she would have preferred natsuno, just on best friend ranking alone. but he's got a new roommate as well, and if anyone ought to lobby for their right to sleep on his floor it'd probably be jade. and through a series of unfortunate losses and really meaningful moments, rita is currently slotted just below their mutual vampire in terms of endearment. )
I come with baggage and a proverbial price on my head. ( a little more gallows humor, but emphasized as clarke gives the swollen serena eterna branded tote on her shoulder a little shake. no stuffing falls out, but there sure is the rattle of stolen steak knives and infimary items she'd spent the day re-hoarding. )
no subject
Rita hears the rattle of metal and snorts. Yeah, that sounds about right.]
Just how much are you stocking up on there?
no subject
( it's a joke, but also is it? listen, certain things have not yet come to pass that will put clarke squarely at the helm of instigating this reality's upheaval, but the ship looks like shit and she's traumatized from two previous apocalypses okay? )
no subject
[Also not exactly a joke, because. Yeah.
Rita glances around idly and scuffs a sandalled foot over the carpeted floor. She'd hate for everything to end and be left with her curiosity unsatisfied, no matter how much she keeps telling herself she probably doesn't want to know the answer-
Before she can think better of it, she pipes up again.]
Hey. Mind if I ask you something?
[Except--sorry, she's not actually giving Clarke the chance to give the okay there before barrelling right along with a very obviously apocalyptic sort of question.]
So, like--do you know what a strap-on is?
no subject
...
... yeah, she's not sure if she heard rita right. )
That's an interesting question, uh. Where'd you hear that word?
no subject
You're dodging the question! Do you know or not?!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)