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 When the Crows Show Up, OPEN TO ALL
Bellamy Blake
 Posted: Nov 21 2017, 12:29 AM
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Arkadia Guard
player: Jax
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One week.... it had been one week since the City of Light fell. One week since they left Polis in their tracks and returned to Arkadia. One week since they had started the frantic search to find their salvation. One week less on the clock for an apocalyptic end promised by a sociopathic computer program with a messiah complex. One week since Clarke looked at him, dread in her eyes where there should have been triumph. She had told him the truth. She always would, he knew, and even though the information was a fearsome revelation, he would not have it any other way. Her truth, though, filled him with the alarms of crisis:

Praimfaya, the Death Wave, was coming...

A message back to Arkadia and a couple calculations confirmed everything the Clarke already knew. The Death Wave was giving them only a matter of months for them to live. Salvation had come with a price, and it had been a ticking clock over all of their heads. There had been no time for rest or reprieve, no time for them to bask in what they could piece together from the wreckage that the City of Light left behind... no time to make things, at least diplomatically, better with all the clans who felt that Skaikru had wronged them. Skaikru had saved them all with the assault on the Tower, but no one saw the fact that Jaha had been working by himself when he unleashed A.L.I.E on them all in the first place. That, and everything that happened while Pike was in power made them unwelcome and untrusted.

Bellamy felt like his jaw had been a tight knot for months. There was no time to relax, or even unwind a little, from the latest catastrophe. There was a needling voice at the back of his brain that told him that it was all, at least partially, his fault. No, he did not summon a wave of radiation to destroy them all, but his guilt did not limit him to their current predicament. Maybe they would have some kind of ally within the many clans of the Grounders if he had not been a part of a violent butchering of their troops. Maybe, if he had not pushed Pike's anti-Grounder agenda, Lincoln would be alive. Not only would they have a diplomat that could help them with the Grounders, but Octavia...

Traveling down that train of though caught a harsh frog in his throat that he had to struggle to swallow around. Things with his sister were not all right. Every time he thought that they might be able to start healing the void between them, he caught Octavia's eyes, and saw the cool fire that burned there now. It was a fire that he helped put there. It was a fire that threatened to swallow him at times.

More often, he forced himself to turn away from thoughts like that. If he lingered on the pain, it would freeze him to the spot. Still, the approaching Death Wave meant that there was a ticking clock over many things, not just their lives. That was why he was packing up the rover right now. That was why they had to leave in no less that fifteen minutes. They had a horizon to drive off into.

Raven had found a bunker scanning through all the historical documents that had come with her knowledge of the City of Light. He did not know all the details about it. He just knew that she had come back from the whole experience different They all had. The idea that someone had come up with (some sort of collective realization that they all came to while brainstorming) suggested the there had to be more places like Mount Weather; a bunker of a facility that prepared for the worst. It was a fallout shelter that was constructed during the 1950s, during the Cold War Crisis, used by the training troops stationed at Mount Pony.

it was a light at the end of the tunnel. There was no telling what condition that they would find the bunker in, but there was a good chance that it would hold enough people to offer some kind of salvation. They just had to get there. It was only a few hours drive from where they were, the serendipity of The Ark falling from the Sky right in the middle of it all. And so, the call for volunteers had gone out. Naturally, they were not telling everyone what the trip was for. Not 100%, that was. They had made the decision to keep the truth about the Death Wave from the general population. It was a call not just made by the leaders of Skaikru, but Roan, too. As the new King of the Coalition, he controlled that kind of information. Why incite panic before there was something that could be done?

Fifteen minutes. He marked the time as he finished loading up the rover and started to give it a final check. Fifteen more minutes and they would hit the road. Anyone coming and in the know knew exactly why they were making this trip. Everyone else was told that it was a resource mission, that they had found a bunker nearby and there was no reason to not send some recon to check it out and see if there was anything useful. Who knew? Maybe they would have enough good news to come back and finally break the bad to everyone.

when the crows show up
 
tag: OPEN / word count: 923 / And with this, we launch the new plot! Anyone who wants to join in for a rover ride can come! (Unless, of course, you are in the NAV-Con bunker before those doors open. You guys are still underground.) We will give it a few days to see who wanted to jump in, an then off we go!
 

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Clarke Griffin
 Posted: Nov 21 2017, 02:12 AM
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Ambassador
player: Jess
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long live the pioneers
Everything hurt.

It didn’t matter how hard she tried. It didn’t matter how hard she fought. It didn’t matter how many people died. It didn’t matter in the end because unless everything went perfectly, more people were going to die. And worse yet, once more it was going to end up being her fault.

Clarke was so tired. Everything the last few months had beaten her down to the point of sheer mental and physical exhaustion. It hurt to move. It hurt to try. It hurt to think. it hurt to breathe. Stretch them from here to the sea and Clarke could lay her dead twice over; end to end, head to foot. And they would pile up to drag her down to hell and even then it would not be punishment enough for all her sins. Each of their names was like a burning scar across her soul, the names of her dead burned into her conscience in a way she believed all could see. It wasn’t like they all didn’t know her worst deeds anyway; with the way everyone looked at her and treated her Clarke knew exactly how despicable she was. And all the penitence in the world didn’t matter. She was a sinner. She was a murderer. She was the Mountain Slayer. And they hated her for it.

Maybe if she was a good person, Lexa wouldn’t have died.

Like all the other times her mind turned to face her grief, Clarke suddenly couldn’t breathe. The burning in her chest was an event horizon scorching her in misery. Her throat constricted painfully as the wounds on her chest so lovingly rended by her mother pulled with a dull ache and shaking cool hands scrubbed furiously at her face. They had something to do and no matter how deep the waters of Jupiter lapped at her ankles and promised to take her away, she had a job to do. At this point the only thing Clarke had was her people. After all, the night before the woman she loved had died she was saying goodbye. She thought her people needed her and that meant more than the joy that Polis held. Everything had been so good, and then everything went so horribly wrong. And it was all her fault.

Clarke hated A.L.I.E. for what she had laid upon her. How was she supposed to handle the weight of humanity’s incoming doom against free will? It seemed like euthanasia and morally it offended what remained of her cursed soul. It was an impossible choice and one a seventeen year old shouldn’t have needed to face. And yet there she was. Once again mass damnation was her responsibility and like all the most recent catastrophes had shown, she had no idea what to do. Everything it seemed wanted to crush her spirit and leave her devoid of hope. And while she didn’t want to admit it, Clarke was truly feeling hopeless.

The bunker was something at least. Provided it wasn’t contaminated, or worse yet incapable of sustaining life. They needed air scrubbers, algae farming, sanitation, medical capabilities and a damn miracle. Where the few others who knew about Praimfaya had seemed excited at the concept of possibility making it out of this entire apocalypse alive, Clarke was significantly more wary. It didn’t settle well that things would work out, but to be fair in her own mind she had become a brutal pessimist. Not nearly as fatalistic as the nihilism Jasper had fallen into but she certainly was convinced it was a false hope. Though looking at those around her and the small glimmer in their eyes certainly helped Clarke lie to herself a little. Who knows, maybe if enough things finally stopped going belly up she might even let herself believe that maybe she deserved a chance at survival?

Bellamy most of all seemed like he needed this. Between the darkness that clung to him after Gina, everything with Pike and worse yet how unfairly cruel Octavia had been acting; Bellamy had firmly placed himself in the willingly abused Omega. A huge fall from Grace for the Once and (maybe) Future Rebel King. Though to be fair, she understood why Octavia was the way she was. Both women had watched the person they loved get shot in front of them. It was a bitter and vicious rending of the heart; while Clarke had taken to self-destruction, Octavia turned her grief and anger outwards. And Clarke couldn’t blame her for it even if she tried, though she did wish that the younger Blake would go a little easier on her broken big brother.

Gathering up her pack, Clarke strode as confidently as she could fake through the hanger and out to the waiting Rover and the man beside it. Without saying a word, she made her way to the passenger’s side, opening the door and sliding into position before closing it firmly behind her with finality. She was going, whether anyone liked it or not. She was sitting right here and making the calls that needed to be made, whether they liked it or not. Tuning the radio to the proper frequency and establishing contact with Raven and Monty was easy enough to be muscle memory. And while she tried to maintain a facade of the same cautious happiness they sounded to have, Clarke was just still so damned tired.

Absentmindedly she picked at her hair with her sharp fingernails, continuing the long process of separating each of the dreads and braids that she had started the night before. It was a soothing and rather painful process, one she hadn’t come close to finishing. But they needed to go; each one was a reminder of Polis, a memory of Trikru and a lash to Lexa’s death. And her mind and heart couldn’t handle that maddening sorrowful reminder anymore. So for her sanity, she had to try and make herself forget. The vague plan was to start leaning more towards the Arkadia traditions, even though she couldn’t be further from Skaikru if she tried. The scalloped braids were gone at least, and one of the massive once pink dreads was now just an overly frizzed and warped clump over her left shoulder. It would calm down at least, after she got herself into a bath or shower but as of right now she hadn’t the time. To be fair, she still hadn’t cleaned the dried blood off of her shirt either. And there she waited, distracting herself with dissecting her hair and praying the heartache away.

tag: everybody words: 1121 notes: buzzed unsolved has me hyped; “hey there demons, it’s me; ya boy”… sorry if this makes no sense, i was free associating her grief and it was really weird mindset to be in outfit: here
© SHE MEANS WAR AT ATF

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Roan
 Posted: Nov 26 2017, 08:29 PM
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King of the Coalition
player: Jax
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Roan kom Azgeda. Was King.

To him, this day had always been inevitable. Even on the say that his mother made him splita, he knew that it was only a matter of time until she was gone, and he was where he was always rightfully meant to be. All the long days, fighting in the north, training with his grandfather, refusing to die when the elements turned harsh, had led to this. Roan was haihefa, not just of Azgeda, but of the whole Kongeda.

That was exactly why he needed to be here, and no one else; not even Echo. His position over the Coalition was was tenuous, temporary one. He could sense it already. His agreement with Clarke Griffin to hold onto the fleim until the discovery of another Natblida in the assurance that they could find one from Azgeda. Roan needed/i] that to happen. Too long, Azgeda had just been on the edge of greatness, shouldered to the side by other clans that already had their piece of the power. Even when Ontari became [i]Heda, the victory was short lived with the rise of the City of Light, and her inevitable death.

The only reason why Roan was in this position now was because he had made the right choices and the right alliances... and because he had been on the front lines when the world fell apart. The right choice was to offer his aid to Skaikru when they needed it, rather then turning on them and blaming them for the rise of the City of Light. The right person to make that alliance with had been Wanheda. It was why she had made sure that he knew about this new bunker that they had discovered, even when so many of her own people were being kept in the dark about praimfaya.

And it seemed that the new front lines for this conflict would bring him to Arkadia today. The form of him and his horse was dwarfed by the large tower of the Skaikru capital. Their tower that fell from the sky. They were a people who rode with fayogon and traveled in tek. It was a way he would never understand, and that many of his instincts riled against. His people and his rule demanded that he did not linger on that, and he rode his horse forward. He was granted entry into their gates, and made sure that his mount was seen to. Obviously, Wanheda had mentioned that he was some kind of ally. He could not think of a single other person in Skaikru who would have done that.

He was escorted by a couple of their armed guards to a place inside the tower. This place was not unfamiliar to him, but he had never seen it so populated with people. He frowned at everyone that looked his way, especially if their gaze lingered, until his gaze found the place he was looking to go. He walked right past those armed guards with the purpose of any king. Just a few paces away was their “rover,” he could see Bellamy, another man he had met through the trials of the City of Light, working on preparing their transport. He had not noticed Roan, though... Flicking his gaze over to the rover, he could clearly see Wanheda sitting in the front seat. For a moment, he locked eyes with her. He wondered what it was that was going through her mind, seeing him there. Had she expected him? Would that have made him reliable or predictable?

Without a word to the guards who were following behind him, or anyone else for that matter, Roan stepped towards the rover, open the door directly behind the driver, and stepped inside, sitting himself in the seat. He would not ask permission to be here. His silent certainty spoke volumes. Through the reflection in the mirror, he looked at the passenger in the front seat, and inclined his head, ever so slightly. “Wanheda,” he said to her as his only mean in introduction, and then waited to see what would come next.

when the crows show up
 
everyone / word count: 685 / tell me no!
 

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Octavia Blake
 Posted: Dec 2 2017, 12:39 AM
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Warrior
player: Dani
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IT'S GETTING DARK
too dark to see
Ever since watching Pike drive a bullet into her lover's skull, Octavia's life had been a whirlwind of turmoil. But a warrior does not mourn the dead until the battle is over. And the battle never seemed to be over. So Octavia refused to mourn. There was no time, after all, with the world constantly on the verge of ending. But the Blake girl was grateful for that; she never wanted the battle to end. Because it the battle ended, she would have nothing left to do but mourn Lincoln. But every time she thought of him, or what had happened to him, the feeling of rage and anger and agony was so overwhelmingly strong she couldn't breathe. It was overpowering, suffocating.... She could scream and scream for hours, cry until her eyes swelled shut, but nothing alleviated the pain... Octavia was constantly trapped between feeling nothing or feeling everything, unable to find any peace in between.

The last few days had been agony. It was the first time since Lincoln's death that she had nowhere to be, nothing to do, no immediate threat to attend to... Sure there was this ever-present threat of Praimfaya, but according to Clarke, they still had time. And nobody knew how to stop it, so there was not much Octavia could do about it. She knew that she should be more worried about the Earth being swallowed whole in a wave of fire, but the idea sounded almost... welcoming. It would mean the end to all of this pain, to all of the numbness, to the constant struggle that was life on Earth. Maybe Octavia didn't wish for the fiery death like Jasper seemed to, but the idea did not scare her. In a way, she wished it did. She wished she could feel anything beyond hate and anger and pain.

She wished that she could be so absorbed in figuring out this whole Praimfaya solution like Clarke or Raven so that she wouldn't be left alone to her own thoughts. Memories haunted her like ghosts and Octavia did everything she could to escape them. Of course, she rarely slept; after all, you couldn't so easily escape your dreams. When she did, it was huddled somewhere outside, despite the cold. How could she even think to sleep in the bed she had once shared with Lincoln? It still smelled like him.... Octavia could barely go in their once-shared room. She spent her spare time training, by herself mostly, or caring for her weapons. Anything to escape her own mind.

When Clarke and Bellamy initially put out the call for the recon trip to the mysterious bunker, Octavia had ignored it. She knew why they were really going; the world was ending and if they didn't find some sort of safe haven soon, they'd be ending with it. They were going to see if this bunker was livable. Another reason to dread surviving Praimfaya.... If they found out they could survive down there, that meant being trapped under the ground for the next five years... Octavia had spent sixteen years being trapped under the floor, only to finally escape and be granted not even a full two years of freedom before she was forced into a similar prison she had spent her entire life in? Being burned alive by a death wave sounded more welcoming than that...

Octavia wasn't exactly eager to see if this bunker would be their new home for the next five years. And she was even less eager to spend the time with Bellamy. He wanted her to forgive him... He was her brother, she should forgive him... After all, it hadn't been Bellamy's hand that held the gun to Lincoln's head. That man was dead now. But Octavia couldn't look at Bellamy without seeing Lincoln; without thinking that had he not backed Pike, had he not just listened to her- trusted her, that Lincoln would be alive right now... And Octavia wouldn't hurt this much.

But as the time approached where the rover was expected to leave, she found herself second-guessing her decision. Really, she would do anything to get out of Arkadia... To not be constantly reminded of the life she and Lincoln had shared and walk past the spot where her lover took his very last breath... Maybe Octavia wasn't all that hopeful about the bunker, but going on the trip meant escaping just for a bit; both her own mind and Arkadia. She didn't belong there anyway; she didn't belong anywhere.

Decision made, the brunette packed two daggers on her person, slinging the sheath that held Lincoln's sword on her back. After pulling her long, dark hair into a high ponytail, Octavia set out past Arkadia's main doors toward the rover with a purposeful stride. She spared only a momentary glance over at her brother as she approached. "I'm coming," she stated, her tone leaving no room for argument before hopping up into the rear of the vehicle. Bending, Octavia found a seat across from Roan, spotting the familiar locks of blonde on the other side of the seat beside her. She didn't say anything to either of them, merely nodded a greeting to the king before leaning her elbows on her thighs and waiting for their journey to begin.

TAG; Bellamy Blake , Clarke Griffin , Roan | WORDS; 883 | NOTES; hope this is ok
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Nathan Miller
 Posted: Dec 2 2017, 11:10 AM
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Guard
player: Ren
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The second that the offer went out for people to join a resource mission, Miller was among the first to sign up. Almost anything anymore to keep him from spending a lot of time in his room or where he was going to be easily found. After being briefed on what they were really going after, Miller was all the more willing to come along. After all, they'd literally just survived the last apocalypse by the skin of their teeth, if they were able to get some kind of a jump on this one, no matter how small a jump it was, all was the better.

Walking across the compound with the last of the gear they were taking with them, Miller heaved it up and slid it back into the rear of the Rover, securing it. Bellamy was nearby, giving them a final once over to make sure they weren't going to get stuck anywhere. Stepping back and slamming the back door shut, Miller gave the back two firm bangs with his fist, half to get Bellamy's attention,

"Think that's everything." he reported, pausing before he moved to get into the rover; running his hands along his clothes, Miller slipped his fingers into his pockets and made damn sure that they were empty before moving on and checking his personal gear; backpack and gun. There wasn't any human threat anymore; it was likely something very paranoid to do, but Miller was about to go off on another super secret mission that not everyone around them was privy to the details of. He hated it, but he felt like he couldn't trust Bryan to realize that as a guard sometimes he needed to keep secrets.

Sometimes as a Delinquent he needed to keep secrets.

As time went on, it was becoming more and more obvious that despite the fact that the Chancellors and the other adults were more than happy to forget about the events that led them to the Ground, there was still a divide between the last 46 Delinquents and the rest of Skaikru. Even though they'd made the alliances, even though Clarke had done so much, sacrificed so much, and all 102 of them (despite her not having come down in the dropship, Miller was happy to include Raven in their numbers because she'd earned it in sweat and pain along with the rest of them) had fought, bled and died for the chance to carve out a place for themselves and eventually their people here on the Ground, none of it mattered.

When it came to decision making, it would be one thing if they just weren't consulted (not a great thing, but still) Instead, they were literally and blatantly ignored. Even as they watched the adults go through the same rotations of grief or anger or fear that they themselves had already worked through; the Delinquents had already made their stupid mistakes, but everyone refused to learn from them, or hell even acknowledge them.

Bryan too was a very big culprit of that and for a while Miller was happy to give him a learning curve because he'd been sure he'd never see the man he loved again once he was thrown into his cell up on the Ark. But here he was, back in his arms... As soon as they'd tried to restart their lives, there was a disconnect, lips that met but kisses that seemed to fall short. Then Bryan betrayed him, betrayed the whole resistance to Pike's second-wave Nazi dictatorship, but seemed to not understand why the hell Miller was so upset.

In the moment, he'd let it go, but that was because the fact that they were all going to be assimilated and likely killed was a much bigger threat to them all, but now that things were in a tense holding pattern, Miller had time to process the fact that he was hurt and angry.

Hauling himself up into the Rover with a little bit of extra force, Miller paused before he sat to survey the people that were coming on this little journey. Was this really it? Five of them? Their two fearless but exhausted leaders, their one woman army, and the Ice King?

Steadily what little respect that Miller still held for his people as a whole was plummeting lower and lower.

"Hey," he greeted as he sank into an empty seat and waited with everyone else. With numbers like this, Miller really hoped that Mount Pony wasn't going to be a clusterfuck. But taking a look at their luck lately, it was likely going to be a huge clusterfuck.

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John Murphy
 Posted: Dec 2 2017, 01:41 PM
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Resident Criminal
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john murphy

Something was happening in Arkadia. For the past few days, Murphy had been keeping an eye on it. He made sure to stay out of the sight of the guards, since the last time he saw any of the members of Skaikru, he was running away from Polis with Emori, nicking the very gun that Bellamy had just convinced everyone he could be trusted to have. He could never thank Blake enough for that gesture. Truly. Really. No, really. He was only about 75% sarcastic about it. Him, Blake, and the rest of Skaikru had had their differences. Bellamy should have known better than to trust him with the gun, because at the end of the day he still ran away with it, but it felt nice to be trusted, even for a half second that was soon shattered.

Now, it was just him and Emori. Again. Like it really should be, if he thought about it. There was no place in the world for him anymore. There hadn't been one up on the Ark, and there wasn't one here down on the Ground. He had never been one to fall in line with rules, and that meant that when things went wrong, he was the first one everyone turned on. His own mother had turned on him when he failed to die to an illness his father had died to save him from. It had been very easy for him to become the villain that all of the Delinquents craved. He was a criminal. He was a survivor. But that meant he was often on the outside looking in.

in this case, it was literal. They had set up there camp within easy walking distance of Arkadia, knowing that if they got desperate enough, their next meal was just a quick theft away. From his hiding place in the woods he could see the place where the hole in the fence remained unchecked by the currently reigning leaders. It was an unspoken rule among the Delinquents that no one would say anything about that hole, hidden by debris and scrap metal. No matter how bad things got between each of them, there were certain things that tied them together. The fact that the hole was still there was a weird symbol of the bond they all had. Whether or not they all hated each other or got along, they had all survived something terrible together.

It was a stupid thing to linger on, really. He just cared that the hole would still be there if he needed to get inside, and it definitely looking like he would need to. Food was becoming scarce in the forest, and merchants were traveling less along the road, which meant that him and Emori were running out of food. Arkadia would offer something, if he could get in and get out without getting caught. Easy. He just needed to wait until the guards changed their shift, and could not see his approach from the treeline.

It was while he was waiting that something interesting happened. Murphy did not have a mind for politics; not unless it came down to his immediate survival and he had to think on his feet. He was pretty sure, though, that the King of the Ice Nation (or was it the whole Coalition, now) would not be making a day trip to Arkadia for no reason. He could see the King's approach on the road even before the guards could. Judging from the guards' body language and tone of their shouts, he had not been expected. A gentle chaos took over the guards, and Murphy used it as his chance to make a break for it. From the treeline, over the hills, around the back of the city, and through the hole in the fence. He was inside.

That did not mean his work was done, though. He had to get inside, get to where the food was stored, and get back out with a firm supply of rations. Child's play, right?

About fifteen minutes later, Murphy was moving through the halls and towards the hanger with a healthy weight in his bag. There was a pretty fine supply of smoked and sealed meats, along with some other random food stuffs that he could grab quickly. It was enough to keep him and Emori going for at least a week or two, depending on how they rationed it out. It would not be a diverse diet, but it was food, so he would not complain. He knew better than to take the same route twice when thieving, so he was going to have to take a chance and leave through the hanger.

He kept close to the machinery and supply cabinets as he made his way through. The tall walls meant that he was walking around blind, though, and taking risks based on what he could hear instead of what he could see. He kept quiet himself, though, not even praying for luck as he made his way around corners and under tables, close to the entrance. In just a few more minutes, he would be home free.

One more corner...

And he was face to face with Bellamy Blake. He stopped, dead in his tracks, his heels planted to the spot. The weight in his sack became heavy with stress. Instinctively, he locked his jaw and refused to break eye contact with the other man. He swallowed hard, using his peripheral vision to find a way, anyway, out of this. He did not know how Blake felt about him since he was last seen stealing his gun, but he was not in any mood to find out. He could feel Bellamy's hackles rise. It did not look like he was in a good mood to begin with. The other man's lips opened to say something, and Murphy knew that he had a small window of opportunity to truly find a way out of trouble.

There were supply crates to the left of him, and the open rover to the right. They were going somewhere. A limited amount of supplies, so it was not somewhere far, but it was definitely some kind of mission. A quick look told him the occupants of the vehicle; a group that he had not expected to be working with each other if it was not serious. He looked back at Bellamy, and with an expression of resolve that was mostly faked, he took a step into the rover, acting as if he belonged there. He sat down like a man on a mission. He had no idea what was going on, but that did not mean they had to know that.

“So, when does this party get started?”

NOTES: Thanks for holding out for me, guys, and thanks Jax for helping me find a way to get the errant child here

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Bellamy Blake
 Posted: Dec 5 2017, 01:17 AM
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Arkadia Guard
player: Jax
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At first, Bellamy thought that he might be going alone on this. It was a volunteer mission, after all. They had asked if anyone wanted to go, and since they had not been honest with most of the population, about this or anything else, he did not expect many people to find it as dire as their little inner circle. It meant that it would be awfully lonely on the road, but it also meant that maybe he could stop packing so many supplies...

The first indication that he was wrong was when he heard the door to the front of the rover open and shut behind him. He turned away from the packing to get a good look at who it was. While he had no clear view of the occupant of the seat, he could see a flash of blonde hair and blue eyes through the reflection of the rear view mirror on the outside of the vehicle. He did not need to tilt his head or crane his neck to know who it was. Even seeing her in parts through the incomplete reflection, he would recognize Clarke anywhere.

She was already well at work settling in, tuning the radio, and making herself comfortable. To be honest, he was almost happy that she was coming. The almost happy came from the fact that he was pretty sure she was here partially out of a sense of duty. He knew she was tired, even if no one else could pick up on it. He could see it in the quiet moments, in the times where he lingered behind with her (or she with him) after their meetings and briefings with the rest of the members of Arkadia's leadership. When no one else was looking, Clarke would let her mask shift; never fall or break, but it was in her eyes when she wasn't careful about keeping it up.

He was about to go to the front of the rover, stick his head in the window, and tell her that she should probably stay and get some rest, when a shadow passed behind him. He turned to see the last bit of Roan's armor disappear into the rover. He felt the muscles in his jaw tighten. He was worried this would happen. He knew that the King would be kept in the loop about what was happening ever since they started this alliance between Azgeda and Skaikru; more accurately, the alliance between Roan and Clarke. It was no secret that the Ice Nation did not like anyone, and there was no clan in the Coalition that was willing to go out on a line for them. Roan was in this position, though, because he helped them against the City of Light when no one else would... when no one else could... and he had needed some “convincing.” He was not surprised, but now he felt they would need to be a little more cautious about this trip. Before, this was a Skaikru only trip. Now...

He refrained from shaking his head, even if it was to himself, and went back to packing up the last bit of supplies. His main concern with what they would need wasn't food or water, though he made sure to have some handy just in case. He wanted to be sure they would have tools in case there was something up with this bunker. What if it needed some sort of power supply that had been used up just to get the doors open? What if they came across debris that needed to be cleared before they even got inside? There was no way he could prepare for everything, but they could prepare for something, right?

He moved away from the rover to the supply cases, but he was only a few paces away when he caught sight of Octavia. It was odd for him to catch sight of her very often these days. It was not hard to see that she had been avoiding him. It hurt. It hurt seeing her, and watching what she had become. The darkness in her eyes and the hardness in her shoulders were a clear contrast from the smiling, dancing young woman that she had been when they first came to the Ground. Bellamy had done that. He had played his part in killing Lincoln, and therefore, a part of her. It was one thing to see her in pain, it was another to know that he had been a part of it.

He did his best to hide all of that, though, as she made her way to the rover. It was his job to protect her, even now (maybe even more so now.) That meant from his own feelings. He wanted to believe that she could forgive him, someday. He did not want to admit to himself that the longer it went on like that, the farther away from him she was drifting. He didn't say anything when she stated her intentions. What was he supposed to say?

The knocks to the side of the rover got his attention, saving him from needing to answer the question. He looked over at Miller, and nodded. “I'll get us signed out,” he said to his fellow guard. That was all that they were here: guards. Bellamy's opinions were valued, sure, but at the end of the day what rank did he truly hold over anyone? All the same, Miller constantly treated him like a superior. Maybe it was something left over from when they first landed. Miller had been one of the first Delinquents to really fall in behind Bellamy's rank and file. Since then, Miller could be trusted, and he knew it, to do what was asked of him, so long as he believed in it. Miller's presence here was, in some way, a reassurance that Bellamy was doing the right thing. He remembered the last time Miller didn't agree with him on something...

He took care of the paperwork side of everything. He had no mind for science, but he could read numbers on gauges and copy them down. Readings on the solar fuel cells, the time that they were taking it out, if they were bringing anything with them. No need to act like this was no some routine mission, after all. He thanks the person on duty as he handed back the log, and returned back to the rover. He kept close to the vehicle, hugging the side of it tightly, giving it one more look over as he went, and came around the back-

The only thing that kept his from colliding into Murphy face first was the fact that the other stopped short before he did. Immediately, he could feel the tension he had been trying to clear from his face return. It did not help that the two of them were the exact same height. It meant that when the looked at each other, they were on equal ground... With Murphy, that was not always a good thing. He knew his expression said it all. He wanted to know what Murphy was doing here. He could hazard a guess. His eyes, unapologetic, drifted towards Murphy's pack... and then he was gone. Murphy was piling into the rover with the rest of them. He had to admit, it made him balk, and he looked in after Murphy, only to see him settling in like he belonged there.

Nope. Not going to question it. He learned that trying to figure Murphy out was a mystery all its own. He closed the door after him, finished his check of the rover, and came around the front of the rover. He did not hesitate to flash his eyes towards Clarke. It was not a passing gaze. He wanted to be sure, just one more time, about all of this. That this was a good idea. He had very little room for doubt, but that nugget inside of him looked to her. It was best to check before he got into the rover. He didn't want her to drop that mask for anyone else.

The door open and closed, and he was in the driver seat. The doors were opened, and a stream of sunlight washed over them. He allowed his eyes to adjust before pulling out, past the gates of Arkadia, and into the wilderness of the Ground. They were on their way.

when the crows show up
 
tag: Clarke Griffin, Roan, Octavia Blake, Nathan Miller, John Murphy / word count: 1408 / We are on the way!
 

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Clarke Griffin
 Posted: Dec 5 2017, 09:39 PM
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long live the pioneers
There was a particular snarl near the scalp just behind her right ear that try as she might Clarke couldn’t free. If she let herself, she could remember the exact moment it began; the root of the scalloped braid that once matched Anya’s. And though hers was mostly free save that particular tiny mat, a part of her mourned never finding some of those peacock feathers and weaving them into her hair in memorandum. It wasn’t like they were friends; to call her and Anya something so gentle would be an affront to them both. Hell, they both had tried to kill each other more often than not. But Anya represented something that even now was still on the forefront of Clarke’s mind and for that she truly missed her. Anya was hope; her first grounder ally, the chance of rescuing the 48, for the peace that they still hadn’t found. And so now, once again on some errant flight of fancy she was off trying to save everyone. A thankless job that despite trying her best it never seemed to be good enough.

Furiously her remarkably clean fingernails began to pick and rip at her scalp. If it became patchy, it was the price she paid for her dalliance with Trikru. She just couldn’t do it anymore. It seemed like a pointless attempt to escape how cruel Skaikru could be to her. If Clarke was completely honest with herself most of the reason why she fled Arkadia was how its denizens had treated her. So many times their glares and words had cut deep, leaving wounds that try as she might became a craquelure upon her spirit and psyche that no amount of rebellious princess syndrome could fix. While she had found some semblance of peace out by herself with only survival as her focus it had been great. That is until Roan found her; and speak of the Devil and lo he would appear.

When Clarke’s eyes met the King of Azgeda’s a roaring echoed in her dulling throbbing head. It was comforting in a way, to lose herself in the oncoming storm that Roan’s presence always brought. Whether it was her inner demons or simply his aura, whenever she was with the ice king Clarke could find her center. Though how healthy it was to ground oneself in the eye of a hurricane of emotion was a debate for another day. Her nod to him was slight, as was the mild curl of her lips. It wasn’t a smile, nor was it truly kin of one. It was more the look of two allies across a battlefield war room council. They knew they would stare death in the eye soon, they had walked with it and conquered it in their own ways and that knowledge of meeting that finality again soon deserved a sign of acknowledgement in the other. ”Haihefa.” Simple as always; it’s why she preferred his company lately to some of her own people. Roan understood when she wanted nothing more than silence and didn’t press his own agenda or her boundaries. She could simply be near him and that was quickly becoming all she could manage anymore.

The surprise was the sweeping intensity that was Octavia chiming in from the back of the rover. It wasn’t that the other woman unnerved her, but there was an unstable predatory wrath that made the younger Blake a loose canon lately and only an idiot would ignore that. For a moment the hair on the back of Clarke’s neck rose as she settled into the seat behind her. She was firmly in her blind spot and while that wouldn’t have bothered Clarke back on the Ark or even the first few months on the Ground, now was a different story. In fact, she wasn’t even sure she could count Octavia as a friend anymore, something that ached at her heart. The pair of them were decently close once, but loss had ripped them apart and aged their weary spirits. And Octavia neither wanted nor sought out any type of friendship anymore. As much as it grieved her, Clarke knew better than to try and reach out. She would be met with coldness, or worse yet ignoring her completely. She had felt their friendship fade away and there was nothing she could have done to stop it. It didn’t matter what she intended or how hard she tried; it didn’t matter that when Octavia came to Polis to demand she leave that Clarke listened. It didn’t matter that she packed up, despite a bittersweet goodbye with Lexa, was planning on leaving until Titus locked up her and Murphy. Nothing mattered because once her mind was made up Octavia never forgot nor forgave. It made since, hell Clarke was nearly at the same breaking point. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. ”I’m glad you’re on board.” Her voice was even and soft despite the quiet in the car. Almost like she was talking down a feral pantu in the woods than a seventeen year old woman.

Miller was at least a familiar and expecting addition to their little band of adventurers. Where Bellamy went so to went his third-in-command. Loyalty thy name was Miller, both Senior and Nate. They broke the mold when they made those two, that was for sure. Both of the men left in that family were warm and true, the classic examples of people to lean on a trust, thievery be damned. And to be fair was a little petty larceny to a traitor? No, Prisoner 319 wouldn’t hold anything against Miller for his past; that would just be hypocritical. Instead she focused on how he willingly bled out in Mount Weather to save the others and keep them from cages while the world nearly burned down outside. The man who never saw the City of Light and instead bravely placed his body before her unconscious one slumped in The Commander’s Throne without a second thought. If he was anything to go on, they truly hadn’t lost the concept of a chivalrous knight.

As much as she wanted to fidget as the last of the supplies were loaded in, Clarke fought the urge and instead focused on the rear view mirror. She watched, brows drawn, as Miller and Bellamy finished the last of the preparations. As he climbed in across from Octavia, Clarke turned to take a good look at him as he settled into his seat. ”I want you to man the supplies. Keep a good eye on emergency supplies, the chemical tent, the first aid kit. I don’t want any accidents and I refuse to be unprepared.” It was something that she had only trusted to Wells and then Finn back when they used to venture out into the woods an eternity ago. She blinked hard for a moment before settling back to facing forward. Had she really not gone and done this with a group since Finn? A part of her even expected to see his ghost standing out in front of the rover as if she had summoned him from the dead. Just another sin at her back that while she had never forgotten him, it didn’t mean the wound wasn’t nearly healed over. So thinking back to giving someone else Finn’s old job was enough to pick at that healing scab on her heart.

So to escape that particular ache, Clarke once more focused on the rear view mirror. And what she saw was nothing short of a miracle. She remembered. Through the hell of everything they had recently survived Clarke remembered who was by her side when Lexa died. Who was trapped in the room to keep her company with the cooling thick blood and sorrow. Who asked if she was okay. Who hand pumped a heart to keep her alive and give them a chance. There was nothing anyone could say to to dissuade her faith in John Murphy. But that didn’t mean he didn’t keep surprising her. Turning in her seat so fast her hair furled around her, Clarke watched with lips parted in shock as Murphy climbed in and perched beside Octavia like there was nowhere else in the world he wanted to be. Brows knit together, Clarke gently shook her head as the softest hint of an almost smile echoed at the corners of her lips. ”You came…” she murmured, with a thread of reverence and gratitude. It meant a lot that he would do this, even if knowing him he had sixteen ulterior motives. He was doing the right thing. And that was important.

Settling herself back into the passenger seat, Clarke caught Bellamy’s long glance through her window. Her nod was subtle, but her eyes let a bit of the real her through. She was tired, so bone deep exhausted and rather pissed that yet again it was the Delinquents and their unofficial Grounder reinforcements that made up the Away Team. It was fitting though. No one cared if they died. No one cared if they suffered. No one cared if they grieved or if they needed help. Delinquents had to stick together and protect each other or they’d be left to the wolves. No one told her the wolves were her own people though.

Picking up the radio as Bellamy climbed inside the rover, Clarke depressed the side button. ”Rover One heading out. Raven I need you to keep in contact every fifteen. If we miss a checkpoint, ping our location to test the frequency and distance. If we’re in range but didn’t respond, wait five then send a team. I’ll let you know when we arrive.” She waited for the mechanic to radio back and an impulse ran through her that she knew better than to ignore. ”Be safe, Raven. Talk in Fifteen. Griffin, OUT.” As they disappeared under the sign and through the gates, Clarke couldn’t help herself from scanning the trees at the horizon. They held something always; so long ago it was salvation, then fear, then the enemy, even acid fog and soon it would be Praimfaya.

Who knew what it held for them today?

tag: roan, octavia, miller, murphy, bellamy words: 1698 notes: group thread plot thread group thread whooo outfit: here
© SHE MEANS WAR AT ATF

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Roan
 Posted: Dec 9 2017, 07:42 PM
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King of the Coalition
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There was little for the king to say to the others in their rover. He knew why he was here. It might be argued that Skaikru had allowed his presence because they were extending a courtesy to him. To all outward parties in Arkadia, it must look very gracious of them to allow a savage like Roan to come along with them on their mission. Present company (mostly) excluded, most of Skaikru failed to look upon many of what they called “Grounders' as lesser, even those that were above them. He saw the look on the faces of the Sky People when he passed. Many of the member of the Kongeda were angry at him for the history that he and Azgeda represented to them. In many cases, he was even feared for his and his clan's reputation. And in fear and loathing, there was respect. The Sky People did not look upon him in the same way. The recoil he saw in their eyes was not out of fright, but out of disgust. He, and his people, and the people who had survived since praimfaya were lesser, no matter what rank and honors they had earned.

And he saw something else when he looked back at them: weakness. Had any of them ever survived in the winters of his home lands? He had seen their first ships when they landed, and he knew what the Azgeda warriors did to the first who stepped off their ships. What kind of people allowed their children to play in the snow where multiple enemies knew how to hide? There was no way that they did not know that there were people on the Ground, and the had the potential to defend their territory in times of invasion. How long had their first 100 been on the ground before they sent more people down to the “Ground”? Then again, in regards to those first 100, how much did they value those that they called “children” when they seemed more than capable to send them some place to die?

They were a contrary people, and for that alone he could not trust them completely.

Those first 100, though, as far as he observed, were different, and it was the gathering around him that he could gather that truth from. Wanheda and the one that was being called Skairipa were two Sky People sitting within his current eyesight that showed at least an element of proof to that. He saw a spirit of survival in their eyes, Wanheda's in her perseverance, and Skairipa in her ruthlessness. Oddly enough, they had both found lovers among the ground people. Even if Roan had his own opinions about the people they had chosen, maybe it was why there had been an opening of eyes. And they had both lost their lovers... an equally important lesson that they both seemed to have learned from. It steeled them against their weaknesses.

He inclined his head in return to Skairipa, acknowledging the greeting, though he kept his appreciation and relief hidden. A king expected respect. He would not be grateful for being handed what was rightfully his. His eyes looked over the woman across from him, catching sight of her weapons and stance. Yes, their world had taught their lessons well.

Wanheda's words came as more of a literal head turner. It was rare to hear the words of their tongue from the mouths of these Sky People, but she called him “king” without hesitation. He turned in an attempt to catch her eye in the brief moment that her head was inclined his way. She was a quick learner, it seemed. He doubted that she had ever come across the word she spoke casually, which meant there was an effort there to learn something about them... about him... And just like that the moment passed, but it did not leave him. He could not say why.

Thankfully, the nature of the mission did not keep him wondering long. More people were moving around their rover with a refined silence. He opted to perk his ears up to them instead, trying to learn what he could from it all. Two more people loaded themselves into their rover, and he turned to look at them. They did not seem to give him the same regard that had been given to him by his present company. He thought he recognized one of them. The one who said “Hey” as his only greeting. Roan rolled his shoulders back at the informality, but did not bristle. It was only more proof of the ignorance of the Sky People. He took orders from Wanheda, though, so at least there was some recognition to the chain of command.

The second man to come in, though, seemed more eager, and more vocal, and less willing to make eye contact. Roan could not stop his eyes from narrowing at that one, He was regarded as a surprise just by being there, it seemed. The veneration that came from Clarke when she spoke to this new addition was enough to make Roan wonder. Again, he found himself in a place where there was mountains of history where he had none. When he turned to look at the last addition again, he did so with more intrigue than distrust.

He almost missed the look between Wanheda and Bellamy as the male passed in front of their rover. Now there was a history. Miles of stories seemed to pass between them in a glance, ever inch of it impossible to read in completion. He told himself that he was merely observing a connection between two would-be allies, but he found himself linger on the memory of the passing glance longer than he normally would have. It was another thought that would not leave him, a ghost of a wonder of a thought that he could not wrap himself around. His eyes tracked Bellamy's movements until he could no longer watch him moving, but never once did the other man look in Roan's direction. Roan's eyes looked back over Clarke, seeing if there was something to be read there, but the door to the driver's seat was opened and closed , and soon they were moving.

Words passed between them and their people, and it became noise in Roan's ears. This was it. These five people plus him, a mission with Sky People in their strange vehicle to a place that none of them had seen. It was an equalizer of a moment, and Roan would bask in it for the time, allowing the silence to dominate the cabin. He was not one to break silences. He had no need to. He did not fear them.

when the crows show up
 
Octavia Blake, Nathan Miller, John Murphy, Bellamy Blake, and Clarke Griffin/ word count: 1123 / we merry few
 

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Octavia Blake
 Posted: Dec 21 2017, 10:30 PM
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IT'S GETTING DARK
too dark to see
Octavia turned her gaze over to Clarke; she could only see the back of the girl's head and a portion of her profile when she turned. The blonde seemed a far cry from the girl who liked to boss everyone around when they first landed. She seemed defeated; trampled and worn, using all of her energy just to keep going lately. Octavia could relate, not that she would verbalized that. Anger and sheer stubbornness were what kept her going.... So much of her died with Lincoln and Octavia feared that if she allowed it all to catch up with her, she would be swallowed whole. Clarke had lost a lover too... She tried to hide it, but Octavia could recognize the way the fire that once fueled the blonde had been doused. "Any excuse to get out of there," she stated back after a hesitation. The brunette's words were flat, but not angry. The hint of bitterness underlying her words were directed at Arkadia, its people, Pike- even if he was dead, and Lincoln's ghost haunting her every moment she spent there.

Although she acknowledged him, Octavia didn't respond to Miller's greeting, she merely offered a nod of silent hello. She had no issue with the man; they had been more at odds when he was her brother's lackey and constantly trying to stop her from doing basically anything, such as seeing Lincoln. But she didn't fault him for that; he was just following her overprotective big brother's orders. There just... wasn't much to say right now. The one who got the most reaction from her was Murphy. Octavia wasn't sure how he constantly managed to disappear and reappear into their lives.... What was even more unexpected was that everyone kept welcoming him back in. Frankly, Octavia was surprised that Bellamy was okay with this; but she supposed that after everything that went on in Polis, and Murphy helping them, he'd earned his third, or fourth, or whatever, chance. Other than being a complete asshole, Octavia had never had that much of a problem with the kid until he tried to hang her brother. But she supposed he saved their lives down in the tunnels in Polis.... That was a pretty un-Murphylike thing to do; maybe he wanted to change, but Octavia still remained someone wary. "You're actually coming with us?" she asked with heavy skepticism, wondering what his incentive behind this was.

Bellamy started up the rover and Octavia finally leaned back against the wall. She listened as Clarke made the final preparations over the walkie, silently wondering just how dangerous this mission would be. Not that that potential scared her in the least; Octavia was itching for a fight. You could only gain so much satisfaction testing your skills on inanimate objects. The battle at Polis had left her blood buzzing and it hadn't cooled ever since they defeated ALIE. Her head wobbled back and forth as the rover rocked from the uneven ground. Occasionally her gaze would wander over her companions, sometimes it would slip past them through the small slits in the windows to gauge their location, but mostly she would just stare at her hands.

Octavia couldn't help but wonder which of the people in the vehicle knew the full extent of the plan.... In true Clarke fashion; she wasn't telling anyone what was truly going on. She'd told Bellamy what they were up against, naturally, and she had told her mother, Kane, and Indra, but that was it. Octavia was fairly certain she only knew because she happened to be in the room at the time. King Roan knew, hence why he was here, but Octavia couldn't help but wonder just how much Clarke had told him.... Did Miller and Murphy know why they were going on this mission? Why they were in search of another bunker? Or what would happen if they didn't succeed in finding one? "How much longer?" she called up to the front seat. It was mostly out of curiosity, but Octavia couldn't help the bit of annoyance that crept into her tone; she didn't like spending too long in small, cramped spaces.

TAG; Nathan Miller & squad | WORDS; 694 | NOTES; sorry for the wait
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Nathan Miller
 Posted: Dec 26 2017, 09:36 AM
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Guard
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That strong feeling of aggravation, of frustrated hopelessness wasn't one that Miller was sure was going to go away any time soon. How freaking dare these people? The only time they were able to drag them kicking and screaming into helping was when they knew that their lives were in danger. And even then it was a fight to get them to do the right thing, or anything at all. That was why it usually came back down to the Delinquents. Again and again. And did they ever get any kind of recognition from it? Of course not. People who sat comfortable on their high horses looked down upon them and passed judgement for their methods.

Even now, Miller knew that he was going to get an earful when he got back from Brian because how dare he go off on this mission when he found out that the Ice King was going? Didn't he remember what Azgeda did to Farm Station? Didn't he care how horrific that it had been those first few days after they crash landed? Miller knew he was going to have a lot to say during that future conversation, but it was better not to think about it yet; he didn't need to be distracted and he was always better playing off the cuff during a fight anyway.

Looking up when Clarke spoke, Miller gave her a half smile before leaning down just enough to pat the pack that was seated firmly between his boots on the floor of the Rover,

"Got us an 'oh shit' bag already packed." First Aid, two chem tents and a solid handful of ration bars and water. It made it a little heavy, but Miller made sure that he could still move without being encumbered. It sure wasn't everything that they might need, but if something happened, just like something always happened, it should be enough to keep them alive for a while. He hated looking like an A student looking for a gold star, but he'd stayed alive this long, he didn't want himself or any of the people going in with them to go down either. Especially not because someone had been counting on them and he let them down.

Speaking of, Murphy was here.

There wasn't a good descriptor for how he was feeling watching Murphy climb up into the vehicle like he'd intended to go the whole time. But stunned was a pretty close one. Most of the time Miller struggled with feeling guilty for some of the things he'd helped do to Murphy and remembering just how much of an unapologetic asshole he was. Even just inside the Rover it seemed like opinions were split. Octavia echoed Miller's exact thoughts while Clarke seemed actually happy to see him. As they drove out, Miller just shook his head to himself and rested his head back against the wall until the terrain became too rough to do so safely.

Hopefully this ride was going to go quickly.

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John Murphy
 Posted: Jan 3 2018, 01:38 AM
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john murphy

Murphy was, pretty literally, going along for the ride. The crowd in the rover seemed to be divided about his presence, but they certainly were not stopping him from coming along. He saw the looks. He was used to them. He knew that there would be a several more coming his way. He casually took notice of the location of the “oh shit” bag, as Miller dubbed it. Whatever was in here was probably going to be important to the cause, and might be something worth bolting with later on. It wasn't like that was the plan, but if it came up, then it came up. Sure, Miller was a big guy, but he had no doubt that he could out run him if it came down to it. It was just a matter of if anyone else would get involved. It would need to be after the return trip, of course. If, if, if he was going to steal it at all. He had to be prepared for all options. Already, he had taken stock of the weapons in the rover.

it was the voice from the front that snatched his attention away from thoughts of plunder. It was a voice that he had left behind in Polis, like the rest of them. It caused a lump to form in his throat, though, considering the last major reason that he had seen her. When he looked at Clarke, he saw a handful of scenes play out in his memory, and all of them were bloody, and most of the time that blood was black. The memory of hold a human heart in his hands was one he would not be getting rid of any time soon, and that led him down another train of thought about when he was in chains in a bedroom that he did not want to put a name to. Then there had been Lexa. “Yeah, Clarke, I came,” he said. Talking kept the thoughts from going too wild, so he kept going. “How are you holding up?” He wondered why he was even asking, and he realized that it was because it was a question he knew he would want someone to ask if his lover had died in his arms. Hell, he could use someone asking him that question now.

The Blakes both seemed to be in agreement about his presence at least. Octavia was the one out of the both of them to actually say something, though, while Bellamy went right on either ignoring him or just wishing him into non-existence. And here he thought they had had a some bonding times in the Tower. Maybe he really was sore that he had taken his gun. Since Octavia was the one to speak up, though, he decided she would be the Blake that he spoke to. “What can I say? The tourist package was too good to pass up.” He grinned a closed mouth grin at her, fully aware of the level of bullshit he was feeding her. He also knew she was not going to swallow it, but that was part of the “fun.” Fun, of course, was in huge quotation marks.

Then there were the other two in the gaggle. Roan and Miller were both doing a very good job at sizing him up and not letting on even a little bit about what they had decided upon. There was nothing heavier than the gaze of a person who trying to determine if you were worthy. When Octavia asked the details of the trip, he took that as a opportunity to speak up, and throw in his weight. “Yeah, exactly how far away are we going?” Was that vague enough? He honestly wanted to know, but he also did not want to let on that he was completely clueless.

NOTES: This was a lot shorter than I think I would have liked, but I did not want to push length and have it come out bad or it

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Bellamy Blake
 Posted: Jan 4 2018, 03:00 PM
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Arkadia Guard
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For the life of him, Bellamy could not figure out why Murphy was here. He knew who he invited, or at least who was on the “need to know” list about what was going on. Everyone in this rover needed to know the truth about where they were going and what they were doing. Murphy had a history of being opportunistic, so he was questioning his motives, or how he even found out in the first place. He wanted to say something, maybe even out right ask him what he was doing, when Clarke spoke up next to him. It was the tone in her voice that made him stop and listen. It was easy to say that everyone's relationship with Murphy could be called “complicated,” but there was something different. Something had happened, and Clarke's opinion of Murphy had clearly changed. He didn't comment on it, but he let it roll around in his head a bit as they made their way out of the gates, and towards the trees.

He was feeling it. It was a reflection of himself that he saw in Clarke's eyes from before they started their journey. He knew it was for different reasons, but he could feel it, too. He was exhausted. You would think that after you went on a quest to save the world, and the literal freewill of mankind, you would earn some kind of vacation. A return to the status quo was impossible, though, when there was no established norm. Or maybe this chaos was their status quo. He wasn't going to let on to the others, though. It wasn't fair for him to lay what was going on with him on their shoulders. Everyone was going through something, and in a lot of cases it was much worse than what he was going through. Besides, he really didn't deserve the sympathy. There were still so many sins at his back that he had to make right, and he couldn't see himself slowing down.

And the Death Wave waited for no man.

The cab of the rover was taken up by a collection of people that were the least likely to work well with each other on a mission. He knew that Octavia and Miller could work with each other. They had before, and they (probably) had gotten past the fact that Miller was one of the guards the Bellamy himself had tasked with being a thorn in Octavia's side during their first few months on the Ground. Every time he had been on a mission that involved Roan, though, someone usually ended up shot or stabbed. In fact, they were one for one on that record, and Bellamy was desperately hoping that it was a streak that they could break. It did not help that Roan was an “I do what I want” kind of soul. So was Octavia. So was Murphy. And then Bellamy felt like a hypocrite, since the “whatever the Hell we want” slogan was one that he ran on in the early time of his leadership. Even Miller was not immune to it completely. He didn't talk much, but when he acted, he tended to lean towards rebelling instead of falling in line these days. He was worried this group was going to be like a group of leashed cats...

Octavia's question was a wonderful way to break the ice. If anyone had any questions, it would be a good way to kill some time. He was going to lay it all out and see what people had to ask about it. Murphy following up with his own question was the perfect reason to redirect it all towards the business at hand. “It should take us about 60 minutes to get there. The National Audio-Visual Conversation Center was located over the old Mount Pony military facility. Raven found records that confirm it was set up to be an evacuation center in case of emergencies, and it was protected against fall out, but it was taken off the evacuation registry in the late 1990s. We don't know what we will find there, since it was used for storage after that, but at the very least we might be able to find something to help Arkadia.”

He did not like being so vague about it all... But when he looked in the rear view mirror he realized the only person in the back who did not know what was going on was Miller. Roan was kept in the loop by Clarke, Octavia and Murphy had been there when Bellamy found out. It was why Murphy left in the first place... with Bellamy's gun. But Miller had been helping tend to other things, mostly the victims of the City of Light. Miler, though, had always proven to be the kind of man who would do things that were right. Would he think this was the right thing? Keeping things secret from the general population? Bellamy knew that Miller would act on what was right. It was why he was so anti-Pike, and Bellamy should have noticed that. He looked over at Clarke, and his eyes told her everything. He was going to do it. He was going to let one more person in on the truth. Miller was out here risking his life. He deserve to know.

But he wasn't going to jump the gun on it either. If this was something they were going to spread around, it needed to be agreed on by both of them. His look said that he was OK with it, but the decision was up to her. His vote was “yay.” He turned back to the road in front of them, and focus on the drive ahead. Once they got to the treeline, it was going to be harder to navigate the woods, and they were unfamiliar forests that they would be making their way through. They had left with plenty of time to make it back to Arkadia after they got a good look at this bunker. For all he knew, they wouldn't find anything, but he did not want to cut the mission short by plowing them into a tree or off a cliff. They needed to turn their luck around...

when the crows show up
 
tag: Clarke Griffin, Roan, Octavia Blake, Nathan Miller, John Murphy / word count: 1043 / Go Team (kinda) Awesome!
 

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Clarke Griffin
 Posted: Jan 6 2018, 02:51 AM
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Ambassador
player: Jess
49 posts

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long live the pioneers
Clarke didn’t realize she was holding her breath until they crested over the forest line and into the dense woods beyond Arkadia. Of all the people to wander out into the perdition of the Coalition’s No Man’s Land, it was perfect save a few additions like Raven or Monty who she needed to keep the camp from tumbling into madness. She trusted each and every person that was involved in this mission both at base camp and in the rover. These were her friends, her fellow survivors; these people were her family though to be fair Griffins seemed to have a short life expectancy like her father or worse yet not the steeliest of spines like when it came to her mother. Mortality and inability to lead aide, Clarke had found a family born of suffering upon the ground instead of genetics. And after all, the blood of the covenant was stronger than the water of the womb.

The moment she shared with Roan lent steel to her spine. In Polis the pair of them had bonded over mutual rage at Lexa. And after their failed attempt to break out of the tower they had been separated and she had ended up in a room with barred windows. Over the months they had found an accord with one another and the fact that he in a weird way tried to send Emerson to her because of what he did to her people was oddly kindhearted. If a little bloodthirsty. But to be fair, that was sort of the Ice King’s modus operandi, and Clarke had learned to accept that in him. In fact in their own way each of her friends, (could she even call some of them friends anymore since almost all of them hated her for something along the way?) had something about them that made them a little different. But weirdly that was what Clarke loved about them all. And in the end she really did love them all. They were her chosen family and it’s why she took their hatred and anger and frustrated or callously biting words. Because they needed someone safe to be mad at and she knew or at least she prayed, that they didn’t really mean it. Most days she didn’t believe that almost everyone truly hated her; of course those days were fewer and farther between than she would like. So far at least, Roan hadn’t really seemed to have had his moment of snapping at her throat or needing her to be the focus of his anger. It would come soon enough. Whether Praimfaya came before it would be another story.

Octavia was… better wasn’t the word. Galvanized. There; it took a few moments of contemplation but that was the definition of the younger Blake. Like steel she had been galvanized and strengthened with loss and Clarke envied her. Losing Lincoln gave Octavia purpose and drive with a vengeance that scorched the earth and dared anyone to question her pain. Losing Lexa destroyed everything that defined Clarke and left her a husk of a person. At the relatively quiet statement Clarke tried her best to give a commiserating half-smile. It wasn’t more than a softening of her eyes and the barest lift of the corner of her lips but she wanted to try and offer the kind of vulnerability with some of her own. It was only fair and she wanted to encourage it. It humanized her again, and Clarke really missed the girl that smiled with starlit butterflies in her eyes. She mourned that girl as dearly as she mourned Wells, and Charlotte, and Finn, and all of their friends that left the Ground far too soon.

Miller never surprised her in how easily and dedicated he was as a teammate. People like Nate Miller were so important in the world; before the bombs dropped he would have been a brave solider, a noble police officer, a courageous firefighter, or a dedicated EMT. That level of self-sacrifice for duty and honor was admirable and in this instance, imperative. ”Perfect.” she responded, voice even and as animated as she could manage anymore. She idly hoped that he had followed the list she made oh so long ago for Finn, using what little paper they found in the bunker that held some of her most bittersweet memories Clarke had been so focused on getting to Mount Weather she had made a nigh idiot proof checklist. It had passed through the hands of some of the dearest people in her life and if it still survived like the rest of them then Miller was worthy of baring the proverbial torch.

A barrage of history hung in the air between her and Murphy as they locked eyes and it was that very history that endeared him to her. And much like the person she knew dwelled deep down in his heart and soul the way he spoke to her helped ease some of the anxiety that buried it’s talons deep into her heart. The softness that Octavia ignited in her still colored her face and the question he asked made her heart pull in gratitude. ”You could probably guess.” It was the safest answer and to the most delinquent of them all Murphy would most likely be the only person to read between the lines to understand what she couldn’t say so she could keep the spirits of the mission up. It wasn’t anything against anyone else in the rover, it was because they had survived the trenches together and that kind of damage made strange but loyal bedfellows.

As Bellamy spoke, Clarke realized how little everyone knew about what was going on. And she hated it. Originally she didn’t say anything because it was so overwhelming and devastating to hear Becca and A.L.I.E. try and sway her heart and morals. But now; not trusting these people who were willing to do anything she asked, they deserved the truth. And it was just pain, she could bear it so they didn’t have to; a lesson she could thank President Wallace for teaching so well. And maybe one day they could overcome it together. Clarke didn’t hide the few moments she took to gather herself. She drew in a deep lungful of breath, steadying her heartbeat and closing her eyes before letting it out at the count of fifteen. Turning about in her seat, Clarke folded her left leg up so she could face them all. And doing so was one of the most harrowing things she had ever done. Would they understand? Would they hate her impossibly more? Would they want to drown in the blissful euthanasia that A.L.I.E. offered and she so callously stole away?

Pining her courage to the sticking place, Clarke opened her eyes and let the chips fall as they may as her spine held straight and tall. ”The City of Light isn’t what it appeared to be. And it’s something I couldn’t tell you sooner and that’s my fault. Partly because I didn’t know how to explain it, but it’s no excuse. Mostly because how do you tell people who thought that they’d beaten back the monster that another worse one was at it’s heels? A.L.I.E. created the City of Light as a way of euthanizing the human race before something called the Death Wave swept the Earth. She wanted humanity to not realize they were burning alive while their minds became nothing more than script in a computer program. Numb. Inhuman. And I couldn’t make peace with that. I know that makes me no better than A.L.I.E. and while I am sorry for it, I don’t regret it.”

Taking a breath, Clarke continued; though her eyes went from a soft focus of the rover as a whole to slowly meeting the gaze of each of the people who she made a decision for they didn’t have a say in. And she waited for the looks of disgust and revulsion that were frankly understandable. ”All of the remaining nuclear power plants on Earth are deteriorating and melting down. Within six months, and that deadline is generous, ninety-five percent of the world will be uninhabitable fire. The Grounders call it Praimfaya and it will be worse than what originally scorched the Earth back when the bombs went off. As of right now, we won’t survive unless we find someway to fortify ourselves against a nuclear apocalypse for at least five years. And as of right now, the only option we have may lie sixty minutes into the uncontested No Man’s Land in the middle of four clans. Yujleda, Trikru, Trishanakru, and Azgeda. Right now we’re driving out into the horizon looking for a miracle. And we could find just about anything waiting for us. Because it’s contested land there is a high chance we are going to run into Splita raiding parties. Right now no one really knows outside of you and the makeshift council that seems to have elected themselves. Jaha, Kane, my mother, each of them thinks they know what’s best though none of them are making decisions yet which unfortunately isn’t doing us any favors. But then we have one of us, we have Raven, manning the radio and who found out about this possible chance at survival.”

Laying everything out on the table, Clarke let out a soft sigh and her fingertips gently rubbed along her temple to try and soothe the ever-present migraine that she had been suffering from since Anya and the bridge. ”So now you know. Now you know the stakes, the costs, the inarguable bullshit that’s coming our way whether we like it or not. Make your choice and use your freewill that a computer programmed psychopath tried to rip from you. And let’s hope for some good news for once.”

tag: team kinda awesome words: 1640 notes: sorry for the word vomit but exposition girl had to bring the exposition outfit: here
© SHE MEANS WAR AT ATF

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Roan
 Posted: Jan 7 2018, 02:33 PM
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King of the Coalition
player: Jax
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The level of history in this technological box was thick enough to swim through. He found his gaze wandering from passenger to passenger. He looked at the micro expressions that crossed the faces of everyone he could see. He watched their shoulders, and how they looked at each other. He watched for the tension in their jaws, and the way their hands flexed or relaxed. He kept quiet as orders were exchanged, and comments were made. But he was not a part of it. Being separate from it meant that he had little stock in if these people got along. He was accustomed, himself, to working with people that he knew hated him. As long as they got the job done, he did not care if they liked each other.

He listened as Bellamy and Wanheda gave their run down on what they had found, and what was to come. Much of it were things that Wanheda had already told him in some way shape or form over the meetings that they had had since she and her mother had saved his life. He was not foolish... his healers had wanted to convince him that they had done all the hard work and that Skaikru had only come in at the end to steal the glory of saving the king, but he knew better. They had saved his life, and then Wanheda had given him the position of ruling the Congeda. He had chosen properly when he allied with them against the City of Light, but that always his luck. Luck, and good foresight. This briefing was for everyone else.

There was one piece of knowledge that was new to him, though. “Neither the Trikru nor Trishanakru people have been told about Praimfaya, or about this bunker. If it is in disputed lands, both of those clans will want to stake a claim equal to Azgeda and Skaikru. His words served a double reason: Skaikru still did not know everything about the culture of the people they called “Grounders.” If they were united in moving into No Man's Land, there was a very good chance that it would be seen as an act of war (or at least an act of expansion.) If Azgeda was aligned with them, it would only serve to aggravate everyone more. The comment, though, was also to serve as a reminder that Azgeda did play a part in this, and when it came time to claim and defend their discovery, they had earned their place.

That was what it all boiled down to, anyway: Azgeda must survive. A part of him was worried about all the clans, though, now that he was leader of the Congeda in the absence of a proper Heda. He did not know how long that would last, of course. Tomorrow, the fleimkepa might find a new Natblida, and even if Roan currently had possession of the Fleim, it could all go away in an instant. Roan trusted in the strength of his clan, but he knew how many enemies were at their back, and was not foolish enough to worry about the worse case scenario. That meant putting his clan first. If he was no longer leader of the Congeda, the only place he would have to go would be home to Azgeda. He would not let them down.

when the crows show up
Octavia Blake, Nathan Miller, John Murphy, Bellamy Blake, Clarke Griffin/ word count: 560 / this feels so short compared to everyone else's posts!
 

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