By the time Clarke
finishes with her histology lab that evening, the light shower that came out of
nowhere has intensified to a full blown thunderstorm. The class had run late
after her professor at felt the need to ramble on and on about the intercellular matrix, and all she wanted to do was go
home and crawl into her warm bed.
She pauses beneath
the awning just outside the door of the lab building and swings her backpack
around her shoulder. She shoves her hand into the bag, searching for her
umbrella with frantic fingers and swearing under her breath when she comes up
empty handed. She hastens into the rain, wishing she didn’t normally have such
a fondness for walking the few blocks back to her apartment instead of driving
her car. The rain already seeps through her sweater, the cold stinging her skin
as the water meets the brisk November wind. She pulls the wool more tightly
around her shoulders and ducks her head to her chest as she quickens her steps.
Her hair is already heavy with dampness, and water droplets cling to her
eyelashes and glimmer at the edges of her vision.
berates herself for leaving her umbrella at home as she trudges through the
puddles that collect on the sidewalk. The pools splash with her footsteps, water
slipping into her sneakers and dampening her socks to create a sickening
squelch with every stride.
She hears the whir
of tires against wet pavement and reflexively steps further from the road.
Though she’s already drenched, she’s not too keen on getting pelted by water as
the car passes. She throws a quick glance over her head to make sure she’ll
clear the spray and does a double take when she catches a glimpse of the
familiar faded red paint of her boyfriend’s truck.
Bellamy is always
headed home around this time of day after his shift at the campus bookstore.
Her lab had gone late today, otherwise she probably would have missed him like
she usually does, but of course he
would pass by her at the perfect time today
of all days. His truck slows to a stop at the curb, and Clarke’s eyes roll
Fucking hero complex, she thinks.
She’s still angry
with him after their fight, his words echoing in her head as she pointedly
ignores the vehicle. She had been so excited to find out she’d gotten into ArkU
Med, her top choice for medical school that she had rushed over to Bellamy’s
apartment to tell him. He’d been just as thrilled, maybe even surprisingly more
so, his grin so wide it made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and he’d wrapped
her in a hug so tight it caused her ribs to burn with affection. His kiss had
been so fierce, so loving, and she could feel his smile against her lips as he
pulled her toward his bedroom and proceeded to show her exactly how proud of her he was.
She knows he was
just trying to be supportive when he suggested that night at dinner that she
call her mom to tell her the news, but the idea had sent her recoiling. Bellamy
knew that her mother had played a large role in her father’s decision to refuse
chemo a year prior, knew that Clarke would never forgive her for allowing him
to stop fighting. She had snapped at him, he had tried to pacify her with words
that would really have never soothed her anger.
By that point,
Clarke was just looking for a fight, and Bellamy had given her one. Things
escalated quickly, and soon they were both angry, saying things in the heat of
the moment they knew that neither really meant. But that was two days ago, and she hadn’t
spoken to him since.
From the corner of
her eye she sees him roll down the window, and she speeds up.
hears him call behind her, his voice muffled by the storm. She doesn’t even
slow down, her arms folding stubbornly across her chest in both obstinacy and
an attempt to stay warm. His truck rolls slowly down the curb to keep pace with
her. “Clarke, I know you’re still pissed at me, but it’s pouring. Let me drive
With his masterful control over air, Arkus is always a step ahead of his foes. A talkative jokester and gifted swordsman, Arkus is nearly impossible to handle. He is armed with his golden blade and a triple infused Kanohi Miru allowing him to levitate, teleport, and shield. He’s always got a smile on his face and he always has the right idea for justice.
Happy belate-because-I’m-sick-af Valentine’s day you motherfricking nerd. Sure I know I fucked up like 69% of this because I based off your scribbles and you loser never made any reference anywaaaaaay~
*stands on one knee and takes out the ring*
Bae, will you…. fucking fight me at denny’s parkinglot for the rest of our lives?
Chevrolet Corvette SS (Project XP-64), 1957. A racing version of the Corvette developed by Zora Arkus-Duntov (pictured in the car), which used a 283ci V8 with aluminum cylinder heads and Ramjet fuel injection that produced 307 bhp. Alas the car was forced to retire due to mechanical problems after 23 laps in the 1957 Sebring 12-Hour race and the the project was cancelled
[ROARS] THANK YOU! You’re making my dreams come true! I’m sorry for the low quality colouring, but I hope this is enough for you! In all honesty, I suggest you completely skip the dragon scale chainmail but that is up to you. I hope you have fun with this design and I await to see how you pull this off :00000
And remember to credit me!!!
[casually slams in a scar ref and a grandmaster ref]
The Embracer of Temptation and Extremes- Amelia is the very wings of Grima. A victim of a sabotaged timeline, she failed to stop the demise of her world and repeated the the very mistake that caused it all. When she joined the Seven, she began a collection full of body parts, jewels, and anything that she saw that met her tastes- thus giving her the title of Avaritia. If she could not get what she coveted herself, her lover would get it for her. As the wings, she is capable of creating powerful storms that she assists with her magic. It is said that the ruby gems on her circlet are actually her eyes.