#vampire!clarke

Being a vampire was easy in the beginning- sticking to the shadows and avenues less frequented. Only those with malicious and sinful intentions dared lurk in suck locations. It was those who lived such deviant lives that fell victim to the woman walking between the plains of the living and the dead. The only worry Clarke Griffin had were a few occasional mirrors, and there weren't many in her time those few centuries ago. But as the centuries moved forward everything began to change. Modern technology and architecture made it nearly impossible to hide who she really was, what she was. Everywhere she turned in the city there were glass windows and reflective cell phones, security cameras, and so much more. And not a single reflective surface did she ever appear. Her very existence is on the brink of discovery every day.

It is because of modern development that Clarke sticks to the shadows of the new world, her only  true way of keeping her secret identity safe. Who she really was- what she really was. In modern times there was no telling what would become of her if she were to be discovered, but the twenty first century technology has made it nearly impossible to keep her secret. She makes it her mission to stay in small towns with very little technological advancements of the modern world to avoid detection, and even then it is becoming more difficult each year.

There is one small town she comes across, one of the few left she could find- Arkadia.

Arkadia was a more down to earth small town, consisting of mostly farm land. Majority of the houses and buildings were brick and old wooden structures, no building only constructed of viewing windows and display cases. There were only a a few windows here and there for Clarke to avoid. The people were nice, the bars filled with good drinks, and the hospital? Held blood banks every week to donate to help Polis general. They wouldn't notice a few bags missing right? It was the perfect little town to lay low for a few weeks at most. Never any longer.

One of the many rules Clarke held and followed to avoid detection. Not only was she running from discovery, but something else- someone else.

Arkadia was one of the few left she could find that would give her that solidity she needed. If only it would be for as long as she had hoped. What was meant to be a month-long stay may be shortened to a few weeks only due to the new mayor Marcus Kane in charge. Per his new order modern development plans were being put into place, but it doesn't start for weeks according to the small town news, giving the blonde ample time to linger in town. The small town doesn't have many tourists, and the locals all know everyone, making it more difficult to feed. Tight nit communities were always the hardest to feed on, everyone too connected for something such as marks to go unnoticed. With the blood bank being so near it enhanced her ability to survive; however,  the blood bank could only last so long in such a small town.

Arkdias blood bank moves on much sooner than she anticipated, leaving Clarke with no more food to supply.

But Arkadia was the only choice she had to live until she could find another small town with little to no modern improvements, leaving her with no other choice but to stick around and stays to herself.  Avoiding local interactions as much as possible. That is until a curly dark-haired local sits next to her one day at the bar Grounders.

"Well you're definitely not from around here." he utters as he takes a swing from his fifth beer of the night. Not only was he drinking more than casually, but the burger he ordered sat on its plate barely touched.

Clarke made sure to keep conversations short and cold with locals if one was unavoidable, especially from the drinks who frequented the little bar. But this man? He wasn't a regular. Shes seen him around town of course, but never seated at Grounders with four beers down as his fifth begins to turn into a sixth. Those that drank this much had something on their mind, most often their intentions weren't pleasant. But he seemed different despite the amount he's had to drink. He was neither rude nor obnoxious in any way, but Clarke knew there was no reason to keep the conversation going long. Normally she wouldn't entertain a conversation at all, but something was different and she was determined to figure out why.

"That obvious huh? What gave it away? The bright  blonde hair or the clothes?"

Apart from the local drunks, Clarke's also noticed that the majority of the people in Arkadia have dark hair. Very early there was their a variety of color or lightness. Including their personalities were much the same. Not even a single person had their own style or sense of fashion. It was all simple decadence and fitting- flannels, plain Henley's and jeans or overalls. Nothing like what Clarke herself wore. She sports a leather jacket, torn black stockings, ripped jeans shorts, and a beanie atop her head. Its dark color contrasts greatly with her light blonde hair. Among the people of Arkadia, Clarke stood out like a sore thumb, and she knew it.

"And other things." He gestures to the pocket watch in her hand. With a furrowed brow she looks down at her right hand before pocketing the watch, shoving it into her jacket without a second of thought.

She subconsciously pulls out her fathers pocket watch in times of stress or shes overthinking when times are becoming worse. It was the only thing that helped her think, the only thing that grounded her in the moment. Her father was a brilliant and kind man, his heart full of love and understanding. He was her rock in her life, back in the century he was alive. But after his murder, and ultimately her families massacre, Clarke finds herself in possession of the last thing she has of the man who cared for her, looked after her, and accepted her for all she was. Even after her transformation Jake Griffin never turned his back on his daughter, not even in his last moments. It was him and her childhood friend that kept her going. Their memories all she had, held deep within her heart. It was those precious memories that pushed her to live on- for them. No matter the difficulties she faced.

"A pocket watch? Come on, that's how you know?" she scoffs, drinking down the rest of her Whiskey.

"Okay and your outfit but the watch definitely caught my eye more."

Her lips turn up then slightly, a sliver of a smirk making its way to her lips. He wasn't at all what she was expecting him to be, that was for sure. In all her years of dealing with townies and bar goers, most conversations are predictable, boring, or lewd. But this was different, easy in a way. It was a nice change for once. He was nice, but Clarke knew that it could never go anywhere. Tonight or any night in fact. There was no way of getting close to anyone in anyway without it ending in blood.