( hannibal busies himself with flipping the chicken, which means he probably misses exactly how severely clarke wrinkles her nose at that notion. she has no want for fame or recognition, not even for something as simple as a warning poster. there'd been a reason her name and network username had not been included, in case anyone had wanted to reach out and ask more about the effects of the flower. it'd been a cut and dry do not look at this! message, redrawn by hand so many times her wrist twinges at the memory. sometimes it is better to be no one than someone people look to for answers, and it wasn't like she had many to give.
somehow, she manages to reign in the severity of her face by the time he looks back; schools it down to just mild offense, a quiet distaste, but the vibe remains the same. she doesn't love that he'd kept the flyer, but won't say a thing provided he doesn't go around showing it off and spouting facts of yet another artist.
the apartments, they're talking about the apartments now. and with hannibal's pronouncement of her own misfit status, she basically snorts. )
It's got running water, and a roof. Again, I'm not exactly picky.
( given where she'd come from, it'd be ridiculous to gripe about gifted shelter. but at the same time clarke is in the perpetual argument with herself that she shouldn't be picky while also despising the apartments. her own quarters are still in the exact same arrangement it had been when she'd first arrived, little bits and pieces dropped around to indicate someone inhabited the rooms. but it's a place she stays, not where she lives. she sleeps on the couch, the bed going untouched because it's just too soft. she's left her filthy labyrinth clothes in random corner for days now, telling herself they would be dealt with. she's tacked up every bit of information she'd managed to gain about this place on pages ripped from a yellow legal pad. she keeps her kidney in its jar on a counter of the little kitchenette.
but there are no stars. no quiet rumble of other bodies around her when she tries to rest, which may be a factor in how little she actually manages to sleep. there's no rumble of an engine vibrating the floorboards, there's no sway of the sea. it's not a home. this entire planet should not be thought of as a home, anyone who gets too comfortable is doomed.
no subject
somehow, she manages to reign in the severity of her face by the time he looks back; schools it down to just mild offense, a quiet distaste, but the vibe remains the same. she doesn't love that he'd kept the flyer, but won't say a thing provided he doesn't go around showing it off and spouting facts of yet another artist.
the apartments, they're talking about the apartments now. and with hannibal's pronouncement of her own misfit status, she basically snorts. )
It's got running water, and a roof. Again, I'm not exactly picky.
( given where she'd come from, it'd be ridiculous to gripe about gifted shelter. but at the same time clarke is in the perpetual argument with herself that she shouldn't be picky while also despising the apartments. her own quarters are still in the exact same arrangement it had been when she'd first arrived, little bits and pieces dropped around to indicate someone inhabited the rooms. but it's a place she stays, not where she lives. she sleeps on the couch, the bed going untouched because it's just too soft. she's left her filthy labyrinth clothes in random corner for days now, telling herself they would be dealt with. she's tacked up every bit of information she'd managed to gain about this place on pages ripped from a yellow legal pad. she keeps her kidney in its jar on a counter of the little kitchenette.
but there are no stars. no quiet rumble of other bodies around her when she tries to rest, which may be a factor in how little she actually manages to sleep. there's no rumble of an engine vibrating the floorboards, there's no sway of the sea. it's not a home. this entire planet should not be thought of as a home, anyone who gets too comfortable is doomed.
also the apartments are ugly as hell. )