It all happens so fast. One minute, she's collapsing in the bunker, coughing black blood and waiting to die or recover. The next, she's being pulled out of water and being set down on grass that shouldn't still exist. By people who shouldn't exist. She feels little more than half-alive while they explain, and by the time her head clears enough to stop wondering whether or not this is a weird dying hallucination, she's left wandering down the road toward the marketplace, looking down at the necklace they've given her and trying to decide whether or not this is anything she's seen before.
She calls in the direction of one of the disappearing figures as they leave, though by now they're a bit too far away to really hear. Anyone passing by, however, is certainly free to answer if they have any idea.
"Hey -- wait -- can you just tell me what year it is?"
[ THE FREE CITIES ]
The first thing Clarke does upon arriving in the barracks is take a long, hot bath. Has she had one of these literally ever? She's not sure. She's feeling too good to still be suffering radiation poisoning, which is weird, but she scrubs herself down twice before she's satisfied that nothing of the irradiated Earth from whence she'd come is left.
That taken care of, she sits rather dazedly on a bunk in the barracks and tries to get her bearings. This is... clearly not Earth, at least not the one she was supposed to die on. And from all appearances, it's not exactly technologically up to date enough to have somehow gotten her here via space travel. Which meant -- she's not sure. Magic?
She chides herself for even considering it. The radiation really must've fried her brain.
"Come on, Clarke. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Dad would be embarrassed."
[Wildcard: Want something different? Just hit me, I'll run with it. ]
Clarke Griffin | The 100
It all happens so fast. One minute, she's collapsing in the bunker, coughing black blood and waiting to die or recover. The next, she's being pulled out of water and being set down on grass that shouldn't still exist. By people who shouldn't exist. She feels little more than half-alive while they explain, and by the time her head clears enough to stop wondering whether or not this is a weird dying hallucination, she's left wandering down the road toward the marketplace, looking down at the necklace they've given her and trying to decide whether or not this is anything she's seen before.
She calls in the direction of one of the disappearing figures as they leave, though by now they're a bit too far away to really hear. Anyone passing by, however, is certainly free to answer if they have any idea.
"Hey -- wait -- can you just tell me what year it is?"
[ THE FREE CITIES ]
The first thing Clarke does upon arriving in the barracks is take a long, hot bath. Has she had one of these literally ever? She's not sure. She's feeling too good to still be suffering radiation poisoning, which is weird, but she scrubs herself down twice before she's satisfied that nothing of the irradiated Earth from whence she'd come is left.
That taken care of, she sits rather dazedly on a bunk in the barracks and tries to get her bearings. This is... clearly not Earth, at least not the one she was supposed to die on. And from all appearances, it's not exactly technologically up to date enough to have somehow gotten her here via space travel. Which meant -- she's not sure. Magic?
She chides herself for even considering it. The radiation really must've fried her brain.
"Come on, Clarke. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Dad would be embarrassed."
[Wildcard: Want something different? Just hit me, I'll run with it. ]