ᴄʟᴀʀᴋᴇ ɢʀɪғғɪɴ (romancekiller) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2016-02-16 17:37:00 |
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Street lights illuminated the darkened city around her and Clarke scanned the area with curious, but wary green eyes. The remnants of her shout echoed in her ears, along with the distant sound of car engines, and further off, voices. People. Clarke's prior moments were of the silence of the woods settling around her; the remnants of Bellamy's skin, the taste lingered on her lips. A painful sensation on her tongue, sparking the memory of a kiss to the cheek, a hand on the lever, and the blood on their hands, blood that would never wash clean. The city was a change and, in the wake of her departure, a seeming welcome one. Clarke sought vast distance, space between herself and those she used to claim as her people. In coming here, she achieved such a goal, but where was here? Those she'd spoke to claimed it was a 'Neverland' of sorts and another 'purgatory'. Considering what Clarke did in her world, she was keen to believe that it was the latter. Especially when one of the people who answered her call was supposed to be dead: Finn. Finn, the young man she killed, stabbed in the heart with a knife, to keep from losing more lives. Even now, in a completely different world, she could still feel his blood, the sticky sensation on her skin, warm, the last bits of Finn's life. See his eyes, the tears a reflection of her own. Her last words "Love is weakness" echoed in her ears; that night was the last night she'd seen Finn, a hallucination, a ghost...till now. Though his visage remained unseen, Clarke could never mistake that voice for any other. A voice that had provided strength as well as conflict and love. It was impossible, but here, she did not know the terms of what defined real and unreal. This place was a mystery. According to Finn, he was pulled here before the knife reached his heart, but under what circumstances? Again, it was impossible, but his voice, his words filled her ears. Impossible. Possible. Portals, movement through time, space without cause, without reason, without source were unheard of in their world, but somehow, this place had plucked Finn from that devastating moment and saved his life. First, there was him. Another mystery, a man who claimed he could hear her with a shout. Again, it was improbable, but Clarke had given into natural, human curiosity and called out anyway. It was nothing fancy, a simple, basic "Hello", but according to him, it did not have to be. So, she waited, taking in the equal impossible visage of buildings, flashing lights, cars? Neon signs? Again, it was filled with a sense of fantasy; these things were only known to Clarke through movies, pictures on a screen and the pages of books. Yet here, here they were real and Clarke could reach out and touch them. She propped a shoulder against the pole, bathing the blond in a faint glow. She felt stupid; she should be finding Finn, talking to him, feeling him and perhaps seeking the retribution, the revenge best served by the hand of one she'd killed. An ending she had not found in her own world. Instead, she forced herself to stay, curious as to what might appear in the wake of her shout. |