ᴄʟᴀʀᴋᴇ ɢʀɪғғɪɴ (romancekiller) wrote in paradisolog, @ 2016-09-06 16:29:00 |
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Upon waking, Clarke's first action was to access the network and toggle through the recent posts. The initial writing described a bountiful feast of pizza and ice cream. Both treats, one greasy and one sweet, were foreign to Clarke outside of pictures in books, mostly magazines, and old television shows. Her favorite was a woman, Julia, clever at cooking and concocting delicious, mouth-watering delights that had Clarke's stomach growling. Dinner, no any meal, was not enough on the Ark. It was only meant to tantalize the taste buds, trick the stomach into being full, satisfied, even as it longed for more. While Clarke had grown up in a family who was better off than most, the food situation remained about the same. The Ark was limited to what it could provide in nourishment and station, standing alone, did not guarantee you much more than another. Rations were dependent upon family, upon person, and what they tasted like? That was nothing short of bland, drab in comparison to what Clarke watched Julia cook up or what she glimpsed in the few, scarce cook books she found at the library, but it was her life, wasn't it? The Ark was all survival and there was no extravagance, no rich, and Clarke imagined everyone knew food as the same: disgusting, but necessary. It was only after she was put in solitary, imprisoned, did she realize food could taste much worse. No, everything could be much, much worse. Alone, locked in a cell, with mere supplement and supplies, she spent her days drawing, etching across every available space, creating a world in which there was everything and anything someone could want. A world of freedom and choice without pain...without loss. Unfortunately, the Earth Clarke landed upon was not such a utopia. It was not a blank slate or a tabula rasa, but a tainted land in which they fell into without an ounce of knowledge at what remained. They believed there was nothing there...nothing until they landed and then the truth became clear. What they dreamed was far from what they experienced, but Clarke refused to believe there was not hope, not a chance in the place they landed. Until, the Grounders and Mount Weather. With that knowledge, that factor everything changed and suddenly Clarke was not trying to find a new home, a safe place for her people to live...she was fighting a war. It was not close to what Clarke envisioned or wanted, but it was her home until she was given a offer. A chance at a life outside pain and in that moment, Clarke wanted to take it. Perhaps it was a betrayal in the eyes of some, but for Clarke it was a chance at redemption. Maybe in this world, in this time, she could save all the lives she lost. She could somehow make a good choice in the wake of so many bad ones. More than anything, somehow she could find a way to fix herself. It was selfish and Clarke knew it, but she could not help her feelings. This world was what Earth could never be: her Tabula Rasa. In this life, the gods and goddesses were with the people they brought here. It was all freewill, all choice, and no pain. Here, people could have the life they always wished for, always wanted, and yet, could never achieve within their own realms. Clarke counted herself among the lucky ones even as the guilt of her past actions ate away at her heart and soul. The tantalizing smell, a delicious aroma of meat and cheese, with a deeper, richer tomato scent filled Clarke's nose and pulled the blond back to the beach and the delectable feast before her eyes. Upon the table was every variety of pizza and yes, ice cream flavor anyone could want no...anyone could dream of. For Clarke, it felt like a dream, and she pinched her arm. Though rather childish, it yielded none of the expected results. Instead, the table filled with greasy, steaming pizza remained along with the sweet, tempting ice cream somehow unable to melt in the sun. Slowly, a bit of caution remained obvious in her step, she moved towards the table, reaching for a provided plate, and using a fork, hoisted it on to the plate. Gooey, sticky cheese, melted upon the surface and suddenly Clarke was starving. Forgetting for the moment that she was in the company of other island patrons, Clarke took a large bite from the end. "Mm," Clarke murmured, the delightful sensation flowing over her tongue. This had to be heaven or at least, a taste of what it could be. Eagerly, she took another bite, a small nibble this time from the side. |