etrayalogs | MISSION 001

Entry tags:

MISSION 001

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: March 29th-April 20th
WHERE: Everywhere on Etraya
WHAT: Mission 001!
NOTES\WARNINGS: Potential violence, death.

⏵ mission prep ⏴
On the morning of the 29th, characters will receive a notification from Aurora to come to the hospital’s ground floor to prepare for their first mission. On this floor, pairs will be given slips of paper with matching numbers. If characters have chosen their partners, they too will receive small slips of paper with matching numbers, as these numbers match the room assignment they will be asked to please step inside.

The rooms themselves are bare. There’s a cot, two chairs pushed up against a small table, a miniature fridge set up below a sink, and a television that only plays static. On the table is a note, which simply reads:

Welcome. To prepare you for your first mission, we are giving you time to get to know your partner. You have a twelve-hour time limit to discuss your lives together. We recommend talking about moments throughout your life that have defined the person you have become. In addition, we have included several ingredients inside the miniature refrigerator. You must, without telling your partner specifically what it is, create their favorite drink using the ingredients within and above the refrigerator.

Do not attempt to cheat. Do not make your own drink.

If you pass, you will both be given two points and the door will unlock. If you fail, you may try again with the same partner or a new partner may be reassigned to you.

Good luck.

Within the mini fridge will be numerous ingredients - these ingredients could be anything, from Bantha milk to dragon fruit - whatever their favorite drinks are, they will find all the correct ingredients to make them. There will also be numerous extra ingredients. Maybe a character’s favorite drink is a nice cup of peppermint tea. The kettle, and the tea bags, will be present on top of the mini fridge, but there may also be soda bottles inside the fridge and various milk substitutes. Cheating by making their own drink will result in the game being reset, and a new partner being assigned or no partner at all being assigned and they will simply be removed from this part of the exercise.

⏵ the secret's out⏴
Numerous notes can be found throughout Etraya’s populated areas - falling from the sky, taped to doors, slid under them, or perhaps being handed out by a few of the companion bots who will eagerly note how these are meant to help, but a quick read may show that they’re not things anyone wants to be given out so freely.

After all, on the notes are secrets, untold truths, things that were never meant to be shared nor wanted out in the open. Some of these aren’t notes at all, but small packages that are not addressed to anyone in particular, or addressed to the incorrect party. Inside the packages are items that may be associated with a particular event: a knife that had been used to betray a friend still stained with blood, a mask meant to conceal identity, a picture featuring a moment in time that had best been left forgotten.

The goal of the game becomes clear by the notes written on the back or thin slips within the packages: match the secret to the person. You could simply ignore them, but the note also includes an addendum: more notes will continue to be sent until the person is matched to their secret.

⏵ cracked reflection ⏴

Every person is an intricate mosaic, composed of numerous facets that shape what makes them - themselves.

After all, one person is not simply one picture, but rather, a puzzle comprised of myriad pieces. These pieces may shape their strengths, their sense of humor, the influences of their upbringing, and who they admired in their formative years. Together, these fragments coalesce into a singular form: you.

But what if those pieces were rearranged? What if the fundamental aspects that define who you are simply… didn’t exist? What if, rather than being a courageous hero, you were cast as a formidable villain? What if, instead of pursuing the path that led you to greatness, you veered in a different direction?

A new dawn breaks over Etraya. The artificial sun rises over the horizon, accompanied by the melodic chirping of birds. As the denizens of Etraya awaken, they sense... a shift in the air - a feeling of dissonance, as if a piece of themselves has suddenly gone missing. Because it has.

Doubles of every current inhabitant of Etraya roam the corridors of the apartment building and the surrounding facilities. They let themselves into Roxx to get a few new outfits, get themselves a meal at the hospital cafeteria, or maybe they’re raiding the snack shelves at Kwik Trip. They may bear a striking resemblance to their counterpart and act very similarly, but there is something off about them. A quality that sets them apart. Remember that step you took, that led you to your current career? The step you’ve kept secret for so long, that has defined your actions ever since? They didn’t take it. They went down a different path, something darker, or perhaps something lighter. They took the path you most feared, the one you knew would turn out terribly. And they in turn - turned out for the worst.

Characters will find they are facing one of their worst fears: themselves, but their worst selves. The version of them that they fought so hard not to become, that they strove against rather than towards. And the mission? They need to take out their worst selves.

But there’s a twist: interaction with their doubles isn’t possible. Both halves are cognizant of each other’s existence, yet they are incapable of verbally or physically interacting with each other. And while the double understands what they are, the original? Well… how do you truly know you are who you’re supposed to be? What if you were the double all along? What if you are your own worst self?

There is one way to be sure: the color of the copies’ blood is slightly darker than what it should be. Running closer to a red-black than the red you would anticipate. Or for some, perhaps their blood is red where it should be running black. While they feel and look real, driving a unique blade straight through where their heart would be will cause doubles to dissipate into nothing once the knife penetrates deep enough. As for the genuine articles, well, the blade is sharp—and it’s going to hurt.

A blade is provided for every authentic copy. Those who were sleeping through the night will find it beside them upon awakening. As for those who remain vigilant throughout the night, the blade will manifest beside them in the early hours of April 2nd.

Guess someone is going to have to kill your double.

⏵ quicksilver has no sense of tact ⏴

Aurora’s announcement left out several crucial details: the existence of the doubles, for one. But also the looming deadline to take care of the mess that has been dropped onto Etraya. Inside the characters’ wrists, they will discover a timer gradually counting down. The timers are only visible for the person who dons it, as is the amount of time given. Every person is given an individual time limit, but it cannot be longer than two weeks. As the numbers dwindle, more black marks appear going up the inside of their arms toward the inside of their elbow. And what are the black marks?

With each additional black mark, they begin to feel… less like themselves, and more like their doppelgangers. In the beginning, maybe they barely notice the change. Maybe it’s a favorite food they loved that they now hate, or perhaps it’s an event that has shifted: something small but important - a decision to save a life changed to taking one. Maybe they’ll feel like a piece of themselves is no longer the same, replaced with another feeling or sensation. Where something would have usually made them empathetic to another's blight, now they find their suffering funny. Regardless, the longer their doubles are around, the longer they slowly begin to become their doubles - and their doubles begin to become just like them.

If their doppelganger is not taken out at the end of their provided time, it will simply dissipate and the original will remain changed. The only way to return to normal is to kill the original. After death, the character will remain dead for twenty-four hours before returning to their normal selves as if the death had never occurred. While killing them to return them to normal is information Aurora will readily share, no one will inform them that they will simply return to normal by April 20th.

⏵ OOC ⏴
Welcome to the first mission! For any questions relating to this mission please reply below. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ.

Please note that while ICly, characters are not given a choice, players can choose which missions they wish for their characters to participate in. They may have missed receiving room assignments, or their secrets may not have been dropped, or a copy may not have shown up for them. This may not always be an option in future missions!

⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( somewhere out in the belly of the city, rufus shinra is lamenting to francis krouse about the headache that would be the clones running rampant and teaming up. sucks to be proven right, doesn't it gentlemen? especially when two of their new number don't even have to waste the time getting to know each other.

this clarke doesn't hold the same compunction about peeling off from this natsuno, but at the end of a long day of waltzing freely through the street and irking her counterpart she still tracks him down. starts with searching the shadows and ends up on the roof of the hospital, where he's taken up roost on the safety parapet and is dangling his feet above a several story drop. being the worse version of herself doesn't mean she's devoid of survival instincts, clarke makes no move to sit beside him. but she kneels and rests both arms across the rough cement outcropping, nesting her chin on her crossed wrists and staring out across the small township as the setting sun gradually paints the whole place orange. )

I like it better than the last one. Significantly less floral print in the clothing shop.

Edited 2024-04-01 03:57 (UTC)

[Her hears her approach, of course, but doesn't address her until she kneels by the outcropping. This Natsuno doesn't bother looking at her, staring at the sunset instead, but does offer a snort at her comment.]

They put more work into the set, that's for sure.

[A prison is still a prison, though.]

You really pissed her off.

[Yeah, he'd seen original Clarke's face. This Natsuno thinks such pettiness is stupid, but perhaps it's because he can't stand being near his original for more than a few seconds. The mere knowledge that he can't cave that moron's face in is bad enough.]

All I've done is just exist.

( and that's not her fault. it's not like any of them asked to be here, it's not like any of them had been given an easy out either. after everything they've been through, she absolutely deserves to survive and take a walk through a pretty set dressing and eat ice cream. clarke rolls her eyes so hard they almost fall out of her head, but calms herself. huffs out the tail end of her indignation then shrugs a little. )

But no real surprise there. We both know how I get when face to face with something I can't beat. ( or rather someone i can't kill. angry, vindictive, destructive, impulsive. a little petty sure, but don't turn up your nose preemptively natsuno, this clarke hasn't even gone the extra mile to start dressing like the original yet. )

You just going to avoid yours the whole time?

I know what I'm like. Let him wonder if I exist at all.

[When faced with something he can't beat just yet, Natsuno Yuuki acts defiant. Let you know that you don't scare him - that he's still better than you. The doppleganger would leave the scene angrier than the original, choking on the bitterness of seeing himself act like he can still keep his morals.]

I don't need to get close to know what he's up to, anyway. He's still holding back on his powers.

[This Natsuno, of course, never had such scruples. This one won a battle royale through action.]

Really? That's a shame. I was kinda hoping to see you two fight it out. ( this natsuno's twisted sense of self preservation (i.e., not bothering with his counterpart because he knows it'd piss him off) aside though, the dream of that confrontation has already been put to bed by the fact they seemingly can't touch their other selves. )

Avoidance is fine for now I guess. But — think long term. What are we going to do about them?

Kill them, obviously.

[Was that ever a question? And this Natsuno has an explanation beyond his hatred for his other self. He wasn't just brooding when he was skulking around.]

I doubt we can exist simultaniously for much longer. They're talking about a bonding exercises - I'm not getting killed so they can defeat their demons.

I dunno, ( she muses quietly, mostly to herself. )

That almost feels like it's exactly what we're here for.

( but also, like, fuck that nonsense. this clarke did not slaughter her enemies and gut her lover, stamp out the useless and shut out the unwanted, weather the apocalypse and cut away at the secrets on board the serena eterna until naught but a single string remained — just to die here, somehow proving to her alternative self how much worse it could have been. she'd earned her title and her right to survive several times over, and it rankles that now she just might be expected to serve as a cautionary tale. so first — their doubles. then, the a.i. bitch and whoever wrote the code that dragged them in to serve as tools for emotional ascendency or whatever it was.

oh and look, woman of the hour. the normal clarke griffin has arrived in the streets below, several steps behind as always. but based on the jumpy, flighty body language they can see from above, still avidly searching for her doppelganger. )

We can't touch "ourselves", I checked. So... I'll do yours, if you do mine.

( and look, she's literally right down there, peering through storefront windows and trying to be sneaky. )

You could definitely survive a fall from this height, right?

Edited 2024-04-06 03:47 (UTC)

Yeah, but it'll take a few minutes until everything pops back into place. And it'll be noisy.

[Sorry bestie, no single dramatic drop today. Still, Natsuno shifts in place, already stretching his limbs to prepare.]

Won't take long to climb down though. I'll catch up easily with how much she reeks. [Seriously, the nightblood thing is nasty. He wonders if it tastes different.] Want me to keep her alive long enough for you to watch and smile smugly at her?

( boooo, she really wanted the dramatic superhero landing. natsuno is arguably the closest she'll ever come to having a friend again, where else would she find such a like-minded individual who she doesn't have to stress about dying at inopportune times? plus, big fan of his work. )

God no, I'm not a sociopath, ( the bonafide psychopath says, utterly offended. the affect is severely undermined by how she tilts her head up at him after a beat, smiles big and wide. that's not just a sure, why not? it's an all out please. )

I'll meet you down there, but don't dawdle on my account. Just... Send her my regards.

[He snorts in dark amusement and without another word, slinks away to climb down and track the original Clarke Griffin. He walks the streets casually, hands in pockets, careful to mask the predatory focus of his kind when they go hunting.

Clarke is easy enough to find by the stench of nightblood from her sweat and healing wounds. He stays out of sight until he finds a good spot, between an empty store and a dark construction sight.]

Hi, [He says, raising a hand in a casual greeting. No effort in sneaking towards her, she can see him coming. Maybe some of his friend's awfulness rubbed off on him, but he wants to see her face when she realizes.]

( that's what friends do, isn't it? find each other, decide the other has some sort of use to them, and continually exist in the same bubble until certain personality traits can't be traced back to the originator? the doppelganger watches her natsuno's retreating back until she can't see him amidst shadow and the edge of the rooftop anymore, then stands to loop her thumbs into the pockets of her athletic pants and make towards the rooftop access door. she'd whistle if she could, but instead finds herself humming contentedly while taking the stairs. )

( down on street level, the original clarke has bent herself into all sorts of shapes in the pursuit of her doppelganger. her likeness had managed to give her the slip about thirty minutes ago and she's run the streets of this new town until sweat drenched her athletic top and the brand new white sneakers were caked in grime and scuffed in the toe. all to no avail, with no light at the end of the tunnel, or decided visual clue as to where to search next. her heart is hammering in her throat to the point it threatens to trigger her gag reflex and she's so tired — physically and existentially. but there's no rest for the wicked and those who track them, so sheer grit prevents clarke from doubling over and putting her hands on her knees in preemptive resignation.

she pushes forward, searches around every corner, dips into every shop, and keeps her head on a swivel. constantly searching for a flit of blonde hair or the sheen of light off a leather jacket sleeve, but never really paying attention to where this venture leads her. which is how she ends up passing the empty space between a fresh construction site that smells of churned up deep dirt and a sleek new store front. she's lost without being lost, and hesitates for all of 0.5 seconds before a figure comes into contrast with the shadows to her right and her throat seizes.

but, oh, that figure is familiar. that figured waves at her. )

Oh my god, Natsuno. You scared me.

( but hey, great timing actually! she could use some help here, and after the initial jumpscare clarke floods toward him with an air of business undercut by big, trusting eyes; walks willingly into this dead space between building-back and in-progress foundation. heartbeat still ratcheted up, she can even hear it reverberating against her ear drums, but pushes on. )

But it's actually really good timing you're here, I can't find her.

[He can smell the spike of fear, then the relief. He stops right by the dark mouth of that empty niche like an actor finding his mark, and she comes willingly. Of course she would. He looks just like her Natsuno, after all, in an edgy printed t-shirt and cargo pants.]

Sorry. [Now if only she'd come closer... right there. He frowns, leaning closer as if concerned.] Her - you mean a double?

[It happens in a heartbeat.

First, grab her shoulders, pull close to what could almost be a hug if it wasn't so forceful, clamping on tight enough to bruise. Unfold the fangs as you press against her and sink them into the soft flesh of the neck. A quick sting, just enough to pump numbing venom into her veins. No need to feed when you've had your fill already - that blood tastes awful anyway. Finally, shove her into the dark and slip after her, out of sight.]

Stay down. Don't move and don't call for help. [His irises glow red in the dark, black nightblood staining his lips. As an afterthought, he adds:] You can talk to me. Quietly.

( clarke only gets so far as nodding aggressively in regard to that double. the baby hairs on the back of her neck have been stood on end for well over a day at this point, and she's far too focused on her quarry being similarly 5'5" and blonde to even consider there may be a different predator luring in its prey, dressed brightly and leaning forward with well feigned concern. not until it's too late. the proximity raises no alarm, and she's opened her mouth to try and recount her double's steps, just in case natsuno would have any better idea of where to pick up the trail. then there are two hands biting fingerprint bruises through her shirt and into her skin; she doesn't have time to say ow or try to shrink back, barely gets the chance to inhale sharply before being jerked forward.

and — did he just bite her?

what's actually happening here doesn't even fully register until clarke feels two sharp pinpricks on the side of her neck, and her eyes go wide. adrenaline floods from head to toe, and she's instinctually got her hands up to try and shove him away without even registering the futility. all too quickly, the haze of the venom is settling in and her arms are heavy, too weak to even push. don't make it out in time to catch her when natsuno sends her into the shadows of the incomplete alleyway.

don't move, he says next. and it's amazing how two simple words undercut every single course of action she could try in order to get out of this. can't stand, can't run, can't even leverage herself onto her elbows to scramble backwards; can't reach for her knife to defend herself, can't lash out to kick at him, can't raise a hand to apply pressure to the sluggish trickle of wet blood sliding down her throat. can't even tilt her head to subtly brush her communication device against her shoulder and access the HUD display — couldn't do that even if she was allowed to move, because that would probably count as calling for help. it's amazing how the suggestibility that comes with the venom means she doesn't even try to fight against the orders, though in the back of her mind clarke still rages.

quietly rages, as she's allowed. she's on her back and can only use her eyes to track the advance of the glowing outlines of red in the darkness of shadow and sclera. )

What are you... you...

( confusion evaporates in rapid time, replaced by that sudden, chillingly bone deep realization he'd wanted so badly to see. her eyes go wide, pupils blow out as another wave of fear washes over her. stupid, stupid; ignorant — so much time chasing her own double, and not a second spared to consider she might not be alone just because clarke had never seen this natsuno hovering at her shoulder. this is awful, this is halloween all over again, when someone wearing her best friend's face had knelt down to comfort her as she lay dying. except different, because at least in that moment she'd understood the motivation. )

Oh. You. ( she sets her teeth to practically hiss out the last word. the gears can practically be seen churning inside her skull, battling through the brain fog. ) Whatever you're trying to do here, it isn't going to help your cause. Whatever that might be.

[It was easy. Of course it was - a twisted evolution he may be, but he's still Natsuno Yuuki, pragmatic to the end. He smiles faintly as her eyes widen in horrified realization, a smile that vanishes as quickly as it appears. A flicker of dark amusement, then nothing at all. There's no satisfaction in this attack, just business.]

Maybe, [He says dispassionately, staring down at her like a cat over an injured bird, preparing for the next strike. Let this serve as a test run - if killing their doubles won't work, they'll come up with something else.] It's nothing personal, you know. Just doing a friend a favor.

[He pulls a large scalpel out of his pocket, taken from the hospital. Another way he and his original are alike. His ears are peeled for any movement out in the street. He's willing to give his Clarke some time to catch up, but if she takes too long or someone else shows up, he'll finish this alone.]

( if her nostrils had been the ones flaring with base indignance at the prospect of her impending murder being anything but personal — this was her best friend's face leering down at her with ill intentions and a too-tight curl around his black stained lips when he flashes her a smile; she will be thinking of this moment for the rest of her life, no matter how short it may be — it's her eyes that widen at the sight of the blade. she's talked her way out of so many dire situations before, but the shadows cast by the empty store might as well serve as a curtain dragged across the stage play of her life. even injured birds can twitch and flail and cry out, but all clarke can do in this moment is hitch her breath and whisper. )

You don't have to do this. None of us know why you guys are even here yet, if we could just talk we could figure it out. ( and: )

You're not the only one here with friends. And if you kill me, mine will find you eventually. I know you, Natsuno; no way in hell you'd sign up for another useless death if it meant leaving your friends behind. You're better than that.

( and: )

Please, just — don't.

( there's more to say, but then she hears footsteps. )

( in the end, natsuno had done an excellent job picking a spot just off the beaten path. no bystander, original or doppelganger, happens upon the scene. even his clarke almost jogs past the shadowy mouth of the unfinished alleyway. but the baby hairs on the back of her neck prickle just past the construction site and her sneakers grate to a stop.

she backtracks easily enough, light on her feet, and with the unbothered air of a science teacher walking behind a students desk in the middle of a dissection lab instead of a girl coming across her best friend looming over her own visage. it sure is an ominous mental image; reminds her of how perpetually glad she is that natsuno is on her side. no words of greeting are exchanged — not like her original needed to witness any easy conversation to guess at who that friend of his was. for a long moment clarke's just still and staring down at herself, scanning and searching and ultimately finding the other —

wanting. weak. vulnerable. squirming out of her skin despite not being able to twitch so much as a finger. pathetic. no way in hell she could have served her people well if she'd allowed herself to turn into this.

the other version of her is moving her mouth, but tilt her head and try as she might, clarke can't make out any words from the nightly ambiance around them. )

What's she saying? I can't hear a thing.

Edited (saves that bit for next tag) 2024-04-16 03:43 (UTC)

[Dissection lab is a good metaphor. Indeed, he's looking at her prone form like a student over a squirming frog. How much of her begging is genuine? She is Clarke Griffin, after all. She will say anything to get her way. Disgust flickers across the double's face at I know you, the way she uses his name like she's earned the right.]

You know him. Not me.

[Appeal to his better nature? What a human concept. The dead have no use for redemption.

He turns to other Clarke as she joins him, raising an eyebrow as if saying, finally.]

Just trying to talk her way out of it. Nothing important. [He turns the blade in his hand, idly.] Don't gloat for too long. It's crass.

( the original begins to angry cry as all her words fall on deaf ears, turns her gaze up to the sky and shivers around a tight and frustrated growl as she feels a few errant tears spill from the edges of her eyes, but can't even lift a hand to wipe at them. this is horrible, this is cruel. ) There's no way you can be that different.

( she says, scraping the bottom of the barrel for fighting words. )

( meanwhile the doppelganger scoffs: )

Gloat? I'd never do that. ( she absolutely has done that, but what's the point of friends if they don't let you get away with little lies?

she does take another moment to stare down at the alternative version of herself. her brows knit, her head tilts, her mouth curls into a very familiar pained scowl that they both wear often. stretches out the toe of her boot to attempt to jostle the sole of the original's sneaker, only to again run into that weird barrier of resistance that doesn't allow them to fully interact. )

I don't think she can hear me when I talk anyways. Will you tell her I almost feel a little bit sorry it had to come to this? ( this does not sounds very genuine. ) But I just need to know: if they die, do we get to stay?

( tools for the test, all of them. she knows this in her heart, but when has clarke griffin ever just rolled over and accepted fate instead of clawing at any bloody chance available in order to survive this latest ordeal? almost as an afterthought she comes back into her body; waves a little at natsuno (this is permission, like it's needed) then steps back towards the outer wall of the empty shop to avoid any blood. )

[The original is truly scraping the bottom of the barrel here, and Natsuno's double snarls. Anything else is like water off a duck's feathers, but he can't stand even the slightest insinuation that he's anything like that pathetic failure.]

I chose to survive. This should tell you how different I am.

[With that, he turns his full attention to Clarke's double. He rolls his eyes at her, as if saying sure, and I'll cackle too.]

That's what we're figuring out. Not sure it'll be that easy.

[But they'll find another way if they have to. He gives her the curtesy of stepping away from the crime scene before kneeling over the original's body, blade turned down. It only takes him a moment to place the point over the heart. He's had plenty of experience, after all, with both shiki and humans. Superhuman strength does the rest.

At least it's quick.]

( by the time the false natsuno kneels over her with the knife, clarke is out of ideas on how to escape this. there have been plenty of instances in life where she could not talk her way out of a problem, but there'd usually been someone waiting in the wings to swoop in and save her, or some last ditch effort to fight dirty and claw her way out of it alive. but this part of the city is quiet, no one comes. and she can't move, even as she feels her blood rush from her head to her legs, nervous system supplying the fuel for a fight even if it was never one she could win.

for the first time in a long time, the prospect of dying is scary. there's no guarantee of coming back from this, but no way out. and adding insult to injury, it's coming at the hands and face of someone she trusted. tears well up in the corners of her eyes and slip down to pool in the crevices of her ear. what's more traumatic, laying down to die willingly next to his decapitated corpse in the labyrinth, or this?

not that clarke has too long to consider, the plunge of the knife is swift.

it feels more like being punched in the chest that her skin being pierced, and she's instantly cold. swears she can feel the contractions of her heart around cold metal for a few, painfully long seconds but it really doesn't take long for someone to fall unconscious after being stabbed through the heart with expertise. last thing she sees are dark eyes set in a dour face, bone structure painted in a spurt of dark blood. the battle against the oppressive black clouds at the edge of her vision is lost, and a deep and wet sound that might have been please, don't gurgles and dies in her throat. )

( and off to the side, the doppelganger scoffs with disgust. the jet black blood drenching the white athletic top confirms the suspicion she'd had earlier in the day after encountering a girl with a strange bracelet. the other version of her really had undergone experimentation to become a nightblood and somewhat miraculously it'd worked. she'd stopped the trials after emori'd withered and burned in front of them, written it off as a lost cause...

huh.

well, there's no way to fake that feature about her in the coming days, so clarke is going to have to improvise and can already feel the wheels churning. she waits until the pool of blood around the body reaches that certain diameter where one knows there's no coming back from before stepping forward, avoiding the expansion with careful footsteps but bending down to dip her fingertips into the ink like liquid. it's cooled already with exposure to the night air, and clarke rubs the blood between thumb and forefinger before — lightly dabbing it behind each of her ears.

she sighs, then turns towards natsuno smiling. ) Thank you, ( she half-sings, half-coos. it's praise and gratitude that run dangerously close to the vibe of patting someone's head and saying good boy, but also — where would she be right now without him? )

Now we should probably put the body somewhere...

[He feels nothing watching the life drain out of her, unable to even imagine this anguish on the other Clarke's face. She's just another meaningless human who happens to have a familiar face.

He's finishing wiping the knife clean on the corpse's pants when she deigns to approach and... dabs black blood behind her ears like perfume. Okay then.]

You'll have to re-apply it if you want the scent to stick.

[Not commenting on her cheerful thanks. He's well aware that she's praising him like you would a loyal attack dog, but it's fine. Everyone's using everyone to survive, after all, and you might as well find someone who understands that.]

Let's just throw her in the dumpster. Hopefully she'll get buried under the debris when the robots go back to work.

MISSION 001

doppelbesties (cracked reflection)

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2/2 cw: vampire bites, mind control

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1/2 also cw: she's dying folks

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