( for a death mechanic that's well and truly familiar by now, it still comes as a bit of a surprise that she wakes up. after all, this was a new world with new rules and new ruling powers that didn't seem all that excited to spell out the specifics (not a new concept!). not that long ago clarke had argued pettily with rita mordio that it made no sense to just let them die here, not when they were purported saviors of their universe. staking a claim to that side of the argument didn't necessarily mean she believed it, however, and she'd certainly had no desire to be the first to test it.
but, suddenly here she is. blinking awake 48 hours after being murdered by the doppelganger of herself and her best friend. the sun is low, her body aches from laying in one spot for so long (under an empty dumpster? inside an empty dumpster? half buried under construction gear and dirt in the nearby lot? to be decided!) and as clarke stares at the sky and traces back through the darkness of death to the last time she'd had this view —
she bolts straight upright. frantically scans around for any sign of her attacker or its grinning shadow that might as well have been a distorted reflection. she's free of the mind control, or at least the part that'd kept her paralyzed and defenseless but still flooded with the overwhelming fear and urge to run. still so indignantly angry that any of this even happened, to the point something like a vice has seized around her heart. and, finally on her feet and speed walking away from her temporary gravesite, she pulls up the display of contacts without even thinking much. grabs at that first and most familiar name and all but screams — )
Oh, that bitch. That fucking mirror image bitch, she killed me.
( had her killed, technically. but clarification will have to wait a moment, clarke's clicked off this call momentarily to also ring up rita mordio. righteous fury cannot be contained to a single conversation apparently. )
[While Clarke's body chilled in the dumpster, her double has been busy. Even if the grumpy Mordio doppelganger couldn't produce holy bottles, Etraya has an infinite supply of sticks and sharpies. Easy enough to draw crosses on his door or hang them in his paths, forcing him out of most public spaces and his own room. Add early onset personality bleed, Rita's insistence that he has a double and some carefully picked lies for when the other Clarke did reveal herself to him, it's no wonder Natsuno has been on edge and questioning his own sanity.
He jumps when the call arrives, but wastes no time picking it up. Rita said Clarke was missing - or did she? He just saw, so something must've happened - ]
Killed - what?
[Hard to think, hard to be sure he's hearing right, but there's no denying the fury in his friend's voice.]
( even as she snaps at him, clarke can recognize that her anger is misplaced. sure, the last voice she'd heard had been natsuno's doppelganger, and their pitch is as similar as their disastrous fashion choices — but the other'd had a particularly cold, icy affect she hadn't heard on the tip of her best friend's tongue since right around the time they'd first met. different enough she can tell, different enough she should have picked up on it 48 hours ago.
recognizing and redirecting are two different feats though, so even when clarke begins to trickle into the more completed buildings and more populated streets of etraya, and can curb her volume. a certain ferocity remains in the way she hisses every word. )
Last time I talked to you it was — I don't even know how many days it's been.
[He doesn't sound like he's trying to argue, though. Clarke is clearly upset, breathing heavily, her tone carrying the unforgiving fury reserved to the worst enemies.]
Or someone who looks like you. She said - her double tried to kill her by sending my double. I haven't seen him, but Rita have, so I thought -
[He trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose. Focus.]
( is there a level beyond righteous fury? if so, clarke ascends to it in near silence save for the slightly strangled sound that squeaks out from the back of her throat at the notion of hours ago. because hours ago, she'd been stiff and cold and well past conversation, which really only leaves one option. natsuno draws the line between the dots without her even having to say anything. )
She said — what?
( because nothing like having your own death plagiarized to fit someone else's narrative to really open the floodgates and dump a whole lot of fuel on the fire.
he tries to establish a timeline benchmark. icly, clarke is clawing through memories of emotional torment in order to remember properly, and oocly i'm adlibbing here but — )
I got my kidney back in a jar, and... Those two boys who thought I was diseased.
[Kidney in a jar, right. He tries to focus on remembering more details to ground himself - he and Clarke talked about how creepy it was, agreed that something is definitely off with Echo's "test." Rita also got an organ, the hand she burnt during a confrontation with the captain in what feels like a lifetime ago. Rita and Clarke, his Rita and Clarke that he met on the Serena Eterna.]
That was... two days ago. Maybe three? So I must've talked to your double earlier. It's like - Halloween, remember? [Pause.] Halloween was real, right? It happened to us.
( she is kindling under a magnifying glass on a dry, sunny day — perpetually ready to explode in sparks and set a city-wide blaze. but, oh. that pause, his question... it does something to quench the undercurrent of anger, if only for a moment as her heart pangs sharply in her chest. )
...Halloween was real. ( what a terrible reminder, what a terribly accurate parallel this is but god if it isn't accurate. one would think with two of the same people running around it'd be easier to discern exactly what was happening opposed to just a ghost wearing your friends face and impersonating them based on shared memories. but turns out some of the doubles are manipulative little shits with similar enough experiences to make it actually feel real. her momentary trusting of the doppelsuno vs his two or three day experience with her doppel self... )
We smashed up Photo's At Sea afterwards. Pal redrew all my notes. Rita apologized. I didn't realize there was anything really wrong with you until it was too late that time either...
[Halloween was real. Good, he remembered. It's impossible to compose himself when he thinks about Clarke's double lying to him, about what his double must've done, but at least now he's grounded enough to know what's relevant.]
Don't beat yourself up over it. I didn't figure out she wasn't you, either. [More importantly - ] How are you feeling? Anything missing?
( experience, confirmed. trust, re-established — like it ever truly wavered; clarke has already slammed down blocks the thickness of blast doors between the terrifying experience with that natsuno in relation to her own version of him. he's always first on her speed-dial, though in this instance a voice chat is way easier than a video. )
I'm pissed off, and —
( anything missing? honestly, she hadn't stopped to take note. upon reviving clarke had taken stock of her freshly beating heart, two working legs, two working arms, and a head still attached to her shoulders. there'd been no gut-deep burning pain like had drawn her to palamedes that first time, no vision loss, all the teeth in her mouth seemed perfectly situated... but when natsuno's question fully registers she has to stop her angry stomping through the edges of the town and really consider.
he is treated to a brief interlude of heavy nasal breathing, clothes rustling, a slight grunt as she sits down to take off her shoes, and then — )
...my sigils.
( they'd never spoken about the tattoos. it'd been mostly shame on clarke's part, that all consuming feeling of less because she'd only ever been human, and thus drawn to magic like a moth to a bug zapper. but part of her also assumes he knows what she's talking about; her best friend had always been wickedly observant, and long sleeve shirts couldn't conceal everything. even if they did, any inspection of that vicious bite wound from darcy lejeune would have told all. )
[It takes him a moment before it clicks. The tattoos, caught in occasional glimpses when she raised a hand, then observed in detail when he took her bitten wrist but never discussed it, because they had more pressing issues to deal with. A part of quest for magic that Clarke hid and Natsuno never confronted because unlike other experiments, this one didn't end up burning or blowing anyone up.]
Right, those. [The bad news: there's a death tax here as well. The good news: this time it's nothing too bad.] Could be worse.
[She'll be frustrated for sure, but it's better than losing an organ or a memory.]
I think... someone's been messing with me. Putting crosses everywhere. You think it could be your double? It sounds like she's hunting.
( something about the removal of her sigils feels about as violating as the time half her murderboard had been exploded by a faux protection charm; they were something she'd worked for, something she'd done herself, something she'd suffered to gain. it's quite literally skin deep compared to the time her kidney had been removed, but still so disquieting because — how? when? she'd woken up just a matter of feet from where she'd last been alive, no gal friday or companion bot carrying her to a morgue to remake her body behind closed doors, yet the stab wound just below ebalon's shield sigil (also missing) was completely healed over. not even a scar...
safe to say, clarke is a little shook, but no time to devolve into hyperventilating. frustration rules, righteous anger commands, and then pressing concern for her best friend undercuts it all. )
I wouldn't put it past her. She and your double worked together, she would probably know how to mess with you. ( and man, if it doesn't make her a little sick to the stomach to recognize she'd also already run the mental gambit of what sort of precautions could be taken against the false natsuno... )
[She and your double worked together. It doesn't take long for Natsuno to reach the obvious conclusion, a realization so ugly he almost wishes he could go back to three minutes ago and unlearn all of it. Clarke's double wasn't just making up stories - she was bragging about her own actions while pretending to be upset, and he was stupid enough to believe her.
The impostor claimed that she narrowly escaped, managed to improvise a cross right before his double attacked. But the real Clarke didn't make it. Rita claimed that his double was a real freak and nothing like him, but Natsuno knows how he'd think and act. He must've incapacitated Clarke before she even realized he was a fake.]
I'll help.
[Gone is the underlining confusion that lurked behind his every word since he picked up. He feels clear and focused now, and absolutely furious. How dare they, how dare they - ]
They think they can gang up on us? Four can play this game.
( it really says something about their friendship that sprouted over ridiculous swan floaties and the unrepentant pilfering of gal friday's welcome desk drawers that clarke had arguably just been murdered by a natsuno, and still turned around and called him first. it says a lot about her own view of herself that all of her anger and blame and fury is directed at the other version of herself, like recognizing like and knowing she'd been the puppet master even if he'd been the one operating the knife. and it should say a lot that clarke absolutely never wants to tell natsuno the specifics of what had gone down in that half-done alleyway 48 hours ago, because it'd just double the hurt and insult of the entire situation if he knew.
it also says something that he immediately understand though, just based on her subtext.
and it says a lot about both of them that, even if it's not said aloud, they both jump to the nuclear option.
hopefully it also says something about clarke that she stops dead in her tracks, angry stomping of the warpath temporarily halted at the idea of dragging any of her friends into the potential line of fire. she doesn't want them to have to help, it isn't like they could tackle their own doppelgangers, and it'll be a cold day in hell before she ever asks natsuno to kill any version of her. but goddammit, she knows he has a anger streak that matches hers, and abilities that far surpass. )
Okay. ( best friend privileges here: clarke completely skips trying to dissuade him, and just goes into delegation mode. )
Okay, then I need you to find them. Don't confront, just watch. I don't know if Rita has one, I don't know if Octavia does, but if my double is calling the shots they'd be her next stop.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice | un: griffin (backdated, early doppelganger event)
but, suddenly here she is. blinking awake 48 hours after being murdered by the doppelganger of herself and her best friend. the sun is low, her body aches from laying in one spot for so long (under an empty dumpster? inside an empty dumpster? half buried under construction gear and dirt in the nearby lot? to be decided!) and as clarke stares at the sky and traces back through the darkness of death to the last time she'd had this view —
she bolts straight upright. frantically scans around for any sign of her attacker or its grinning shadow that might as well have been a distorted reflection. she's free of the mind control, or at least the part that'd kept her paralyzed and defenseless but still flooded with the overwhelming fear and urge to run. still so indignantly angry that any of this even happened, to the point something like a vice has seized around her heart. and, finally on her feet and speed walking away from her temporary gravesite, she pulls up the display of contacts without even thinking much. grabs at that first and most familiar name and all but screams — )
Oh, that bitch. That fucking mirror image bitch, she killed me.
( had her killed, technically. but clarification will have to wait a moment, clarke's clicked off this call momentarily to also ring up rita mordio. righteous fury cannot be contained to a single conversation apparently. )
no subject
He jumps when the call arrives, but wastes no time picking it up. Rita said Clarke was missing - or did she? He just saw, so something must've happened - ]
Killed - what?
[Hard to think, hard to be sure he's hearing right, but there's no denying the fury in his friend's voice.]
The mirror - I thought you said she just tried?
no subject
( even as she snaps at him, clarke can recognize that her anger is misplaced. sure, the last voice she'd heard had been natsuno's doppelganger, and their pitch is as similar as their disastrous fashion choices — but the other'd had a particularly cold, icy affect she hadn't heard on the tip of her best friend's tongue since right around the time they'd first met. different enough she can tell, different enough she should have picked up on it 48 hours ago.
recognizing and redirecting are two different feats though, so even when clarke begins to trickle into the more completed buildings and more populated streets of etraya, and can curb her volume. a certain ferocity remains in the way she hisses every word. )
Last time I talked to you it was — I don't even know how many days it's been.
no subject
[He doesn't sound like he's trying to argue, though. Clarke is clearly upset, breathing heavily, her tone carrying the unforgiving fury reserved to the worst enemies.]
Or someone who looks like you. She said - her double tried to kill her by sending my double. I haven't seen him, but Rita have, so I thought -
[He trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose. Focus.]
What was the last thing we talked about?
no subject
She said — what?
( because nothing like having your own death plagiarized to fit someone else's narrative to really open the floodgates and dump a whole lot of fuel on the fire.
he tries to establish a timeline benchmark. icly, clarke is clawing through memories of emotional torment in order to remember properly, and oocly i'm adlibbing here but — )
I got my kidney back in a jar, and... Those two boys who thought I was diseased.
no subject
[Kidney in a jar, right. He tries to focus on remembering more details to ground himself - he and Clarke talked about how creepy it was, agreed that something is definitely off with Echo's "test." Rita also got an organ, the hand she burnt during a confrontation with the captain in what feels like a lifetime ago. Rita and Clarke, his Rita and Clarke that he met on the Serena Eterna.]
That was... two days ago. Maybe three? So I must've talked to your double earlier. It's like - Halloween, remember? [Pause.] Halloween was real, right? It happened to us.
no subject
...Halloween was real. ( what a terrible reminder, what a terribly accurate parallel this is but god if it isn't accurate. one would think with two of the same people running around it'd be easier to discern exactly what was happening opposed to just a ghost wearing your friends face and impersonating them based on shared memories. but turns out some of the doubles are manipulative little shits with similar enough experiences to make it actually feel real. her momentary trusting of the doppelsuno vs his two or three day experience with her doppel self... )
We smashed up Photo's At Sea afterwards. Pal redrew all my notes. Rita apologized. I didn't realize there was anything really wrong with you until it was too late that time either...
no subject
[Halloween was real. Good, he remembered. It's impossible to compose himself when he thinks about Clarke's double lying to him, about what his double must've done, but at least now he's grounded enough to know what's relevant.]
Don't beat yourself up over it. I didn't figure out she wasn't you, either. [More importantly - ] How are you feeling? Anything missing?
[If she died, she could be taxed.]
no subject
I'm pissed off, and —
( anything missing? honestly, she hadn't stopped to take note. upon reviving clarke had taken stock of her freshly beating heart, two working legs, two working arms, and a head still attached to her shoulders. there'd been no gut-deep burning pain like had drawn her to palamedes that first time, no vision loss, all the teeth in her mouth seemed perfectly situated... but when natsuno's question fully registers she has to stop her angry stomping through the edges of the town and really consider.
he is treated to a brief interlude of heavy nasal breathing, clothes rustling, a slight grunt as she sits down to take off her shoes, and then — )
...my sigils.
( they'd never spoken about the tattoos. it'd been mostly shame on clarke's part, that all consuming feeling of less because she'd only ever been human, and thus drawn to magic like a moth to a bug zapper. but part of her also assumes he knows what she's talking about; her best friend had always been wickedly observant, and long sleeve shirts couldn't conceal everything. even if they did, any inspection of that vicious bite wound from darcy lejeune would have told all. )
no subject
[It takes him a moment before it clicks. The tattoos, caught in occasional glimpses when she raised a hand, then observed in detail when he took her bitten wrist but never discussed it, because they had more pressing issues to deal with. A part of quest for magic that Clarke hid and Natsuno never confronted because unlike other experiments, this one didn't end up burning or blowing anyone up.]
Right, those. [The bad news: there's a death tax here as well. The good news: this time it's nothing too bad.] Could be worse.
[She'll be frustrated for sure, but it's better than losing an organ or a memory.]
I think... someone's been messing with me. Putting crosses everywhere. You think it could be your double? It sounds like she's hunting.
no subject
safe to say, clarke is a little shook, but no time to devolve into hyperventilating. frustration rules, righteous anger commands, and then pressing concern for her best friend undercuts it all. )
I wouldn't put it past her. She and your double worked together, she would probably know how to mess with you. ( and man, if it doesn't make her a little sick to the stomach to recognize she'd also already run the mental gambit of what sort of precautions could be taken against the false natsuno... )
— I'll deal with, okay?
no subject
The impostor claimed that she narrowly escaped, managed to improvise a cross right before his double attacked. But the real Clarke didn't make it. Rita claimed that his double was a real freak and nothing like him, but Natsuno knows how he'd think and act. He must've incapacitated Clarke before she even realized he was a fake.]
I'll help.
[Gone is the underlining confusion that lurked behind his every word since he picked up. He feels clear and focused now, and absolutely furious. How dare they, how dare they - ]
They think they can gang up on us? Four can play this game.
no subject
it also says something that he immediately understand though, just based on her subtext.
and it says a lot about both of them that, even if it's not said aloud, they both jump to the nuclear option.
hopefully it also says something about clarke that she stops dead in her tracks, angry stomping of the warpath temporarily halted at the idea of dragging any of her friends into the potential line of fire. she doesn't want them to have to help, it isn't like they could tackle their own doppelgangers, and it'll be a cold day in hell before she ever asks natsuno to kill any version of her. but goddammit, she knows he has a anger streak that matches hers, and abilities that far surpass. )
Okay. ( best friend privileges here: clarke completely skips trying to dissuade him, and just goes into delegation mode. )
Okay, then I need you to find them. Don't confront, just watch. I don't know if Rita has one, I don't know if Octavia does, but if my double is calling the shots they'd be her next stop.