Dash Parr prefers to be known as (thedash) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2019-08-04 14:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, *lena, *natasha, clarke griffin, dash parr |
Log: Clarke Griffin and Dash Parr
Late March
Clarke Griffin ✦ Dash Parr
Tea party, Atlantis style G Complete |
“...uh, okay,” said Dash when he found himself sitting down not at the lunch table in the cafeteria, but in an overstuffed chair at a spindle-legged table draped with lace and set with a flowered porcelain tea set. He looked up at Clarke, sitting across from him. “I'm pretty sure I didn't fall asleep in class.” He might not have been wholly invested in diagramming sentences, but he'd been trying to stay awake, if only in the hope of shortening his grounding from ‘the foreseeable future’ to something more manageable like ‘a week.’ (Sneaking into the St. Patrick's Day party probably hadn't helped his case, but it wasn't like he'd stayed long anyway.) He stood up from his chair to examine the tea set. “It looks like one of Rosalie's,” he said, frowning. “Or Charles's.” He scowled. Just two of the people Atlantis kept tearing away from him. There was a plate of small sandwiches on the table next to the very fancy kettle and Clarke frowned thoughtfully as she studied the set up from a chair just like the one Dash was in. She didn’t know the young speedster very well, but he was someone she’d seen around and she doubted there wasn’t anyone in Atlantis who hadn’t taken advantage of his speedy delivery at one time or another. “I guess Atlantis wants us to have tea,” she suggested. It was far from the strangest place she had woken up in the more than two years she’d been here. “I guess,” Dash agreed, sitting down again. “Is there some kind of ceremony or do we just eat?” He helped himself to a couple of sandwiches and added without waiting for an answer to the first question, “What do you think is in these?” And then, after eyeing the teapot. “There's sugar, right?” He didn't have tea very often. It tasted mostly like poorly flavored water, and his mother had declared once that no speedster had any business drinking caffeine. Well. His mother wasn't here, and Atlantis could be picky about these things. Laughing, Clarke passed him a small bowl. “Yes, there’s sugar.” She wasn’t sure what was in the sandwiches, but she shrugged and took a bite anyway. Life on the ground had taught her not to be picky. Even after being in Atlantis for more than two years, there wasn’t much she was unwilling to try. “Thanks.” Dash loaded his cup with sugar cubes. That was another thing his mother would say he didn't need, but it made the tea bearable. Besides, with a metabolism like his, the energy had to come from somewhere, right? The sandwiches weren't bad, although they tasted oddly of cucumber and something else Dash couldn't name. Tuna, he decided. When in doubt, it was the safest to assume or at least better on the peace of mind. “So,” he said through a mouthful. “Do we just eat and then wind up home?” Clarke shrugged. “Considering this is Atlantis, it’s hard to say.” This place was really hard to predict. It was possible they would magically find themselves back in their houses after they finished their tea or it was possible Atlantis would keep them here longer. “I guess there’s one way to find out, right?” That was fair, and it wasn't as if Dash wasn't always hungry. "When you're right, you're right!" After two tiny sandwiches, he said. "So it's not the weirdest. We could have ended up on a spaceship again, and here we get lunch. Sort of." He didn't really know Clarke, but he knew who she was, a familiar face around Atlantis and someone who had been here for quite a bit longer than he. She knew the games the island liked to play. Out of the blue, he asked, "A lot of people go and come back, right?" Clarke nodded. Atlantis could be pretty transient that way. The come and go was something you tried to get used to, but never fully did. It was always hard to lose people, even here where you know it might not be permanent. “My friend Bellamy has been here a few times now.” Dash scowled, even if the answer was - somewhat - reassuring. The Intake computers registered Violet as gone, and John, who should be able to find anyone if he tried, had said the same. She could come back. "But some don't," he said. Charles hadn't. Rosalie hadn't. Wally hadn't. "It's stupid." “Some don’t,” she admitted, “but some do. Sometimes it takes a while, but a lot of times people do come back.” Raven had, even if she hadn’t stayed very long. So had Clarke’s mom. There were never any guarantees, but it could happen. There was always hope. It was something to think about. Dash's determined search hadn't brought his sister back, but there was still a possibility she could return. "We'll see." In the meantime, he would do everything he could to ensure that when she did, she would stay put. Unfortunately, that might mean actually paying attention when he got back to school. He waved a chocolate eclair in a gesture of salute. "Cheers!" |