i tried.

nothing  about  this  place  would  ever  be  the  home  that  they  had  grown  up  on  &  maybe,  maybe,  one  could  have  considered  that  to  be  a  good  thing  when  they  took  into  consideration  the  (  lack  of  )  childhood  that  the  former  azgeda  spy  had,  all  of  the  horrible  things  that  she  had  done  against  her  conscious,  or  perhaps  even  aligned  with  it.   but  they  had  not  come  to  that  kind  of  acceptance  about  such  a  thing  yet.   paranoia  still  skirted  around  the  edges  of  their  vision  at  all  times,  the  idea  that  it  was  too  good  to  be  true.   clarke’s  adaptation  to  this  place  made  the  least  sense  of  all.   they  could  not  process  how  or  why  she  had  come  to  just  …  simply  living.   others  were  settling,  too,  but  not  her.   not  yet.

it  was  simple  &  easy  to  follow  clarke.   a  little  too  easy,  even  for  someone  who  was  as  adept  at  such  a  skill  as  they  were.   but  that  didn’t  concern  them  as  much  as  the  rest  of  this  did.   echo  watched  her  paint  for  a  few  long  moments  before  she  let  her  presence  be  known.   “what  are  you  doing?”   the  question  was  relatively  simple,  but  it  was  clear  from  the  intensity  of  their  hazel  orbs  that  they  were  referring  to  much  more  than  the  paint  on  a  canvas.

         she likes it      here  ,  likes the people and the village and the surrounding land  .  nothing will ever replace eden  ,  or the home and family she built there with madi  .  every night is filled with dreams of their little home and their simple lives  .  madi’s still little  ,  still needs her  .  back when her newly found daughter would crawl into bed with her  ,  tuck herself into her side just to be held  .  but eden is gone  ,  and so is that bond they’d so carefully built  .  maybe they’re quirky  ,  maybe they’re keeping some secrets  ,  but the people of sanctum have fed and clothed and housed them  .  in her state  ,  there’s nothing left in clarke to care about anything further than that  .  they keep her in paint and canvases  ,  what could be better than that  ?  the only downside is the pestering doctor insisting on keeping tabs on her dying body  .  

@leadeur / CLARKE & BELLAMY

   "Looks like it’s someone’s birthday –” Two boxes stacked in his arms, he hefted them onto the only open surface in sight with a thud, the muscles in his back easing with sudden relief. The rest of the detail had already unloaded the rest of the supplies from the rover – mostly food and tech, since their last big run only two days ago had been focused on medical supplies – but Bellamy had snuck a few extras on board, having kept a mental list of the sort of things Clarke complained hadn’t been in the first retrieval. Anything was better than nothing, he knew. But there was this ever present urgency within him to do more. His brain and body could not meet in a state of peace, could not shake the fight of flight instinct that came with constantly feeling under threat. He’d seen war, and he’d lived with it all his life – how was he supposed to begin anew when he hadn’t known any other way?

   “How’s it going here? Any trouble?”

she’s   almost   moving   on   auto   pilot.   the   route   from   her   makeshift   mechanic   shop   to   clarke’s   cabin   has   been   done   so   many   times   that   she   doesn’t   need   to   even   think.    once   she’s   inside,   raven   makes   a   beeline   for   her   usual   spot   and   lets   her   body   fall   against   the   chair.    a   sigh   escapes   her   lips,   once   her   leg   stretches   in   front   of   her   to   relieve   the   pressure   from   a   day’s   work.     “    you’re   putting   too   much   faith   in   my   non   existing   medical   skills.    ”     she   jokes   as   she   accepts   the   bowl   of   food.    shared   meals   have   always   been   special   to   raven,   only   now   she   actually   doesn’t   have   to   worry   about   the   size   of   the   portion   she’s   eating.      “    bellamy   has   the   experience   with   needles,   not   me.    ”     sure,   she   could   stitch   up   a   wound   or   two   and   change   bandages   if   needed   be.    but   she   doesn’t   really   know   what   she’s   doing.

however,   she  knows   that   major   injuries   are   not   that   common   in   their   daily   lives   anymore.    a   cut   gained  at   hunting,    a   teenager   falling   down   and   most   of   all   her  gaining   cuts   &   burns   while   working   on   whichever   new   project   she   can.   that   she   thinks   she   can   handle,   it’s   not   like   clarke   wouldn’t   be   here   if   something   serious   came   up.     “   but   i   can   probably   make   them   listen  to   me   for   a   day,   keep   them   organized.    ”    now   that’s   more   her   speed   and   clarke   can   get   a   break   from   constant   questions   or  new  problems   arising   for   a   day.   so,   raven   humours   her   as   she   digs   in   her   dinner.   “    just   promise   me   you   won’t   touch   the   panels   &   we’re   doing   it.   ”   

       comparatively  ,  her life       is a lot better now than anytime after being kicked off the ark  ,  and even then  ,  some days here rival her best aboard the ring  .  those thoughts are what get her through the bad days  ,  the exhaustion  ,  the never ending list of tasks to be done  ,  and the ever present weight of the lives that rely on her  .  the first societas baby was born two months ago and clarke rode on the high of his first cry for weeks  ,  but eventually even that wore off  .  but every time she sees murphy’s flock of hens following him around the village or hears jasper sing while he wanders through monty’s garden she’s given another boost of energy  .  with bellamy gone though  ,  most of the responsibility of keeping their people sane and safe falls to her  .  “  listen  ,  i’ll handle the clinic and whatever tasks you give me if you’ll just babysit the village  .  ”

      clouds move lazily       above clarke as she lays in the grass  .  the skirt of her dress is messily sprawled out on either side of her  ,  the sweater she’s rarely without these days covers her torso  .  even on the warmest day  ,  a chill settles in under her skin  ,  making the pain that has become ever present there even worse  .  her painting wasn’t quite done when she’d decided to abandon it and find a spot to rest right beside her stool  , but her vision was beginning to blur so badly she could barely see  .  the pain radiating through her fingers didn’t help either  .  drying on the easel is a portrait of finn  ,  his face frozen in elation  .  behind him is a village and if you look hard enough  ,  you might see the bodies  .  she wonders if anyone else will look at it and know exactly what moment she’d chosen to paint  .  his utter relief at saving her  ,  truly believing that he was justified in killing the people he’d found there  .

     the blonde opens her eyes when something moves over her to block out the light  .  her eyelids flutter for a moment  ,  it’s been taking her longer and longer to adjust to daylight  ,  before raven comes into focus  .  “  he would have liked it here  .  ”  maybe it was rude of her  ,  to leave their shared lost love up on display  ,  but she doesn’t really care  .  she doesn’t really feel much of anything lately  .  clarke lifts a hand up to shade her eyes  .  “  this was his dream  ,  wasn’t it  ?  people of different origins finding peace together  .  you can have it if you want  .  ”

       @damnbrain​​​​​​​  gets a             toxicus starter