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Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Oct 26, 2017 17:24:27 GMT
Polis was blind. Like on the Ark there was no way to look outside and with every passing moment after the death wave, Clarkes guilt grew. Her friends were out there. They were gone. So many were gone, forever. They could have saved them. And yet she didn't know if they were dead. Because Polis was blind. There was no way to see outside or to see up. And if she was right every other place, if it survived or other, would be blind too. For days she holed herself up in to the infirmary, having started experiments, because as she walked around, in a bunker, secluded with no way out, she realized what precarious situation they were in.
Once there had been survivors, waiting out the apocalypse in a mountain, in a bunker deep down. It turned some cruel, desperate to see the sun again. She had seen the risks, carried the aftermath of it on her soul still. And so she experimented and worked on herself. Until she couldn't ignore the ache inside her anymore. Only then did she return to the assigned dorm she was in. To her surprise it wasn't empty, even though it was technically day. "Miller?"
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