Would you have significant objections if I chose to do so?

[there's the real question. she can write, she can give it purpose and structure, she can make it into something other people can read, something they haven't read before because she hasn't written it before, but she won't press the purpose onto the unwilling.

as to why? chalk it up to a wish.]

Good, then I needn't alter the direction of my current project.

[who knows when it'll be done. it'll need a translation into characters that other people can read. it might completely suck. but it's in progress.]

[she smiles, and lets another moment pass between them.]

...The upcoming deaths. How bad should they be, if we have a choice?

[because if they need fear, if they need misery, then she'll have to solve her own problems, and inflict it on herself.]

[thanks for the bare minimum, buddy. still, she looks contemplative, mulling that over.]

Does it count for your fuel if I make myself suffer?

[she can do it. she knows what scares her. what hurts. turning the knife on yourself is easier than people think.]

[a single nod, and then Helena smiles, resigned and at a perfect peace at the same time. glad to have your blessing on it, Captain. whatever comes to pass, she'll invent a way to hurt. they won't know, until it comes to pass.]

They're already miserable that we're dying anyway.

[they're ungrateful, bubbles up in her mind, from some place where she's long since accepted her fate, but it's a passing bitterness. let go like smoke, to disappear.]

Not all of them know how to manage being hurt in order to survive.

[it's learned. eventually.]

Because no one likes being hurt, or another reason?

[this is more from curiosity as to his thoughts than anything else - hearing him call the fiercely opposed understandable is surprising.]

I'll have to take your word for it. I'm not even remotely close enough to her to make any judgements.

[the voice of the future says that in a week or so, she'll have very definite opinions on one Clarke Griffin and her taste in accessories.]

But from what I've observed, there doesn't seem to be a single one of us that didn't come from some hardship. The Erda has a particular type.

[sssssip from her tea.]

Full of arms like an octopus?

[she's joking.]

[there's a pause, and then she has to set her cup down, because she's started giggling, laughing, genuine amusement in spite of the ominous shadow of the excursion hanging overhead.

breathe, breathe.]

Destiny is an octopus-

[trying really hard to not think this is funnier than it is. but her mental perception now involves sea life delicately slapping everyone on board with its arms, instead of the more formal paths it could have taken like the gods with a thousand arms.]

It's...it's just silly...

[finally, she catches her breath, straightens up from where she'd been slightly bent to laugh.]

It doesn't really make sense. It's just a little absurd. And then there's the shadow of impending misery, and still, it's nice to laugh.

[joy, even in the darkest places.]

For you as well.

[and the smile on her face says she's come up with a conclusion, but captain or not, she wants to make him ask.]