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Jun. 7th, 2017 08:24 pmIt's not incredibly often, but every now and then Clarke manages to find a way to combine her passions. The more that she can mix and match into one supreme love, the happier she is. It's just managing to do it all the time that is turning out to be quite the challenge.
She still doesn't quite know what she wants to be when she grows up. Growing up still feels like an impossibility, even if she is over two years into her time here and survived on earth before that. There was a time when it felt like she had an expiration date. Now she's learned what generations before her had, that those dates were really just artificial guidelines with no real scientific merit.
So she's likely not going to be surgeon. She doesn't have the drive for it, but she still wants to practice some other sort of medicine. It may just end with her being a general practitioner who keeps normal business hours and does all the art on the walls of her office herself.
Other times she can't imagine a future larger than their living room, which is kind of okay too. She's sitting on the couch, kinesiology textbook propped open on the coffee table as she artfully sketches out the details of limbs in motion, leaving space to label the parts. The radio is on and she's half muttering the words to some song when the door opens.
"He lives, he returns, how marvelous" she exclaims melodramatically, even as she doesn't pause her work, knowing fully well that it's Bellamy back from his errands to work on making a dent on one of his futures. "Did you get the applications? And also by any chance dinner?"
She still doesn't quite know what she wants to be when she grows up. Growing up still feels like an impossibility, even if she is over two years into her time here and survived on earth before that. There was a time when it felt like she had an expiration date. Now she's learned what generations before her had, that those dates were really just artificial guidelines with no real scientific merit.
So she's likely not going to be surgeon. She doesn't have the drive for it, but she still wants to practice some other sort of medicine. It may just end with her being a general practitioner who keeps normal business hours and does all the art on the walls of her office herself.
Other times she can't imagine a future larger than their living room, which is kind of okay too. She's sitting on the couch, kinesiology textbook propped open on the coffee table as she artfully sketches out the details of limbs in motion, leaving space to label the parts. The radio is on and she's half muttering the words to some song when the door opens.
"He lives, he returns, how marvelous" she exclaims melodramatically, even as she doesn't pause her work, knowing fully well that it's Bellamy back from his errands to work on making a dent on one of his futures. "Did you get the applications? And also by any chance dinner?"
