( aaaaand... here comes the culture gap, rearing it's head so aggressively clarke can't completely blockade all signs of confusion from washing across her face in waves.

what's creepypasta? what's photoshop? this particular apocalypse baby isn't dumb by any means, and can more or less gloss over strange terminology in favor of absorbing the overall context of a sentence, but still snags on the spooky linguini words themselves. after a brief buffer period, what clarke ultimately interprets april to be talking about is something along the line of uncanny valley. that an image would be distorted — more effectively than just resizing features, or painting on clown makeup — and play on the same instinctual fears of human beings that horror movies do.

not a lot scares her anymore. death had been the most pressing thing, but never a thought she'd shied away from. here on this cruise liner even that's losing some of the mystery, the instinct to avoid it lessening with each crisis. so... ultimately, color clarke intrigued. )

Blurry face and misplaced shadow basically sum up Gal Friday and the Captain, only they're three dimensional. But... yeah, okay. Show me?