The rumbling and shaking came as no surprise to him as it had to some of the other 100. No doubt the two that had followed the boy named Finn didn't know, else they would have done the smart thing and stay strapped in their seats. Instead, now they get to experience the pain of being slammed repeatedly into walls. The boy Finn however knew, that much he could tell. Still he cared not for the risks and just wanted to enjoy himself. He made a mental note of that for later on, if any of them survived the landing, or the possibly uninhabitable earth if they did.
Or maybe he just wanted to impress the blonde that had told him to sit. If that was the case, Finn's plan had failed. Miserably. The blonde was smart too. She knew what would happen once the Dropship entered earth's atmosphere and was smart enough to stay in her seat because of it. And kind enough to warn others to do it as well. Looking around, he saw that most of the juveniles wore looks of absolute terror. Others however wore giant smiles, loving the thrill of the ride. Or maybe just loving being out of captivity, even if it meant that there was an extremely high chance of them dying. Still, he thought as he manipulated his face to match the kids' sitting across from him, better start acting like you're normal.
It was the last words that John had told him to do. One thing that he had repeatedly drilled into his head was to make himself see as if he was one of them. ''Don't give them any reason to suspect that you're different from them. Blend in, be like them, and don't let them know who you really are - what you really are.'' It was one of the last conversations that he had with his mentor of the last twelve years. And it couldn't have come sooner.
The screaming and panic had continued throughout the Dropship. Circuits started frying, kids started crying and everything was going exactly as he had predicted. Then the noise stopped. One boy mentioned how the humming of the machine that they had all known their entire lives had they hit the ground, the screaming had generally died down. One by one, the kids started to get out of their seats, each of them eager to get out of the giant hunk of metal and see the Ground for the first time. He noticed that the few who had gotten out of their seats were still on the ground with Finn checking over them. He debated going over to help but dismissed it. Most of the teens were heading down to the lower level where someone had said was a door, so that's what he was going to do as well.
He watched the exchange between the blonde and the older boy with interest. He decided that they would be two to keep an eye on. She was smart, seemed to be a voice of reason and in time, someone the 100 would look to. And he was a natural leader. The way he carried himself, not soft spoken or shy, the way he answered the blonde girl's question...and now he had a sister. That was a first. While he didn't grow up the same as everyone on The Ark, he knew that no one had a sibling, regardless of who you were.
And then door opened, and for the first time in the last three years of his life, he was surprised. The light was blinding at first, and then colours could be seen. The green of the trees and the brown of the forest floor had stolen the breath of all in the Dropship. The girl, Octavia, had stepped out cautiously as the others look on, waiting to see if she dropped dead from exposure to the potential radiation. He almost wanted her too. Just to see the look on everyone's face as they faced the cruel reality. But she didn't. She gave some ridiculous cry proclaiming their return and cheers went up all around him, forcing him to join in. One by one, they all piled out of the Dropship, eager to walk on the ground for themselves and breathe in the new, authentic air through their own lungs.
As he stumbled out of the Dropship, he let a moment of wonder fill him. he did a half circle one way, staring up at the trees as if he was a child who had found his new favourite toy. He spun the other way and looked at all those around him, some doing the same as him and still taking in the scenery while the majority of the group were just jumping up and down, showing their excitement. He took in a huge breath and looked down at his feet, a soft smile had crept onto his face. His hand unknowingly went to the back of his neck. He felt his fingers run over the rough patch of skin. A scar. It shocked him out of his excited haze and he shook his head slightly.
He had a job to do. A mission he was assigned. And he had never failed a mission before.
"Why am I learning about the Ground again? We already went over all of this and besides I won't ever need to use it so it's just wasting my time."
"You don't have any time. You're mine which means that it would be my time I am wasting. And you won't ever need to use at least eighty percent of the skills I have taught you over the years but tell me, why do I teach you them?" Sighing, he answered the question, just like he had a million times before. "Because the day that I do need to use them becomes the day that I am important." "That's right Argo. If that day comes then everyone would wish that they knew half of the things that you did. As of right now, you are not important. No one knows who you are or that you even exist and no one cares, except me."
"I know." A silence stretched out between them for a couple of more minutes while Argo continued to read one of the many books that John had. While Argo had very limited contact with anyone other than John, he could guarantee that no one had a larger book collection than his mentor. From maths to sciences to manuscripts, novels, pictures on how to draw, and even encyclopedias. The odd thing though, was that John had never ready any of them. At least to Jacob's knowledge. In twelve years of knowing him, Argo could not recall a time when he had seen John with one of his own books in his hand.
"But still, the last time we revisited a subject was human biology and you said the only reason we did was because you had me put in a field test, three weeks after we started..." If Argo was expecting a response or an explanation from his mentor, he was disappointed. Instead, John just sat there, a critical eye on his protege to see if he would figure it out for himself. Always a test with John, always testing me to see if I would fail. Luckily, this was an easy one. "There's no way you'd be able to rig an accurate earth situation test for me and if you really wanted me to learn, you would just put me in the advanced earth skills class so... I'm headed to earth."
John chose to not answer the boy as he watched him go through the motions of the revelation. His first reaction was that of surprise and then excitement, excited to get off of this floating hunk of metal the older man guessed. "How?" the seventeen year old asked. "That's the wrong question you should be asking in this situation. Try again."
"Why am I going to The Ground?" John nodded at this. "Not just you. One-Hundred of you. All under eighteen, juvenile delinquents is what the council has decided upon. Artificial Oxygen is running out for The Ark and they're debating whether they should sacrifice people to extend the time that they have to repair it. They figure that juvenile criminals are better than the upstanding citizens of this place, but also that execution is too inhumane. So, as a way of making themselves sleep better, they concocted this brilliant idea of turning it into a mission of survival. Send them to the Earth and see if it's habitable. Realistically, they're just sending them to die."
John's voice had taken on a more sarcastic and angry tone as he further explained the situation to Argo. It was no secret, at least not to Argo that John disliked the council. While he wasn't on it anymore, he was once head of security which instantly places whoever there on the council. That position is now however being held by Marcus Kane. If John disliked anyone on the council the most, it would definitely be him.
"So you're sending me to die." John looked up to meet the blue eyes of the young man who was sitting before him. He was both impressed and surprised that no emotion had crept in Argo's voice at the statement, though it sounded more of an accusation. Hell, John thought, it is an accusation.
"Not exactly. Soon you would be sent to be on your own anyways so you'd have to undergo your final assignment, most likely resulting in your death anyways. This way, I'm giving you a chance to live. And I have a mission for you." This piqued Argo's interest. "What is it?" "I'm almost certain that life is possible on The Ground, even though the Council doesn't think so, I'm sure of it. If that's true, then that means that you kids are going to survive. You'll need to protect them. If you guys can live on the ground, then I'm sure others were able to as well, and they are not going to be happy that you're suddenly in their territory."
"So I'm going to protect them? From enemies I know nothing about in an area that's as foreign to me as the Sun is to us?" "That's exactly what you're going to do. But you're going to keep it secret. Pretend you're normal and don't let any of them know what you're doing. Do you understand?" "Yes but I -"
"Do you understand!?" Argo paused for a second before nodding. "I understand, John."
"As for why, I'm not wasting twelve years of keeping you a secret from the regular public just so you could be made out as a hero." John knew that wasn't why the boy had asked so he just moved on. "I need to make some arrangements before the drop and since I don't know exactly when that will be, we need to be ready for it to happen as quickly as tomorrow. As for the foreign setting, that's why you have to keep reading." Sighing, Argo began to read again, not bothering to look up when John moved from his chair. "I have arrangements to make. I'll return later."
He woke up due to the sound of someone moving in the camp. His training involved him being a light sleeper and the soft footsteps on the ground was all it took to rouse him from his rest. Another skill he had picked up was waking up without it seeming like you had. It could be the difference between life and death John had explained. An enemy knowing you were awake versus one that thought you were still asleep. His breathing had remained steady while he focused his hearing. The steps were moving away from his position to the other side of the camp. The person was trying to be quiet and succeeding or the most part. It was only because Argo had trained ears that he could hear who he assumed was a body. The footsteps stopped and Argo waited patiently, he heard a brief scuffle before two footsteps started up again, this time exiting the camp.
Deciding it was important to know who was leaving so late and for what reason, Argo eased himself up from his spot he had claimed for the night and followed the pair of unknown people out of the camp. It didn't take him long to catch up to the pair, both male he could see, one leading the other though it looked like he was being forced. Not physically but when the two turned on the path, Argo saw the outline of a pistol between them. Now it made sense. Bellamy was taking Wells out to either take off the wristband, or kill him so The Ark, and more importantly the Chancellor thought his son was dead.
The pair walked for about five or so more minutes before Bellamy stopped him. Argo hung back in the treeline about five or so meters from where the boys were standing. He had debated whether or not he should step in and stop Bellamy from executing the innocent man but decided against it. One life was just one life and if he did, he would have the leader and his merry gang of followers against him, something he most certainly did not want.
He didn't have to as Bellamy put the gun away in the back of his pants. Argo was confused until he saw Murphy and a few of the others who did what Bellamy said appear from hiding. Together, they restrained Wells and took his wristband off. The rest of the boys returned to camp while Wells sat there for a while longer, staring at the now useless wristband. He waited until the boy started making his way back to camp, ensuring that he as safe. Or at least as safe as he can be with someone as crazy as John Murphy around. That's someone else he would have to keep an eye on.
But now Argo was faced with a new decision. He saw how easy it was for Wells, a very proud and stubborn person not used to bending to other's desires when he himself did not share them, to do what Bellamy wanted when he had the gun. It wasn't surprising to Argo. He knew that whoever had the most muscle and wasn't afraid to use it would lead these teenagers, regardless if he was a good leader or not. As things stood now, it was definitely Bellamy. Argo would rather have Wells or even Clarke be the person that others would turn to for guidance. Not because he liked them more, Argo had learned long ago not to from any attachment at all to people, but because they would be the most likely leaders to keep people alive. There were already two deaths from eve before they had stepped outside, and two of them had also wandered off the first chance they got.
The question now was to stay and see how things developed at the camp, whether or not Clarke and the other four that had gone to Mount Weather would return tonight or if he should go complete his first art of the mission. A week before the Dropship left The Ark, John had informed him that he sent an aircraft to crash to the earth in approximately the location where the Dropship was meaning to land. In it were food supplies and weapons, as well as medical supplies if they were needed, and Argo knew that they were most definitely going to be needed. While it would look conspicuous if he left one day and returned as a one-man army, he would much rather have a weapon on him. Not one of the cheaply made daggers and knives that most of the others carried but real weapons suited to someone who had years of training.
There was also the two missing teens that went off by themselves like the idiots that they probably are. While John always said not to risk your life, or the life of someone smarter for an idiot, it was still his job to keep as many people alive as he could. Coming out from his concealment and into the open, he gazed up at the moon and measured how many hours it would be until morning. Seeing that there was only a few, he figured they could survive for long enough and turned to head back to camp, and get a few hours more sleep.
The next day held little purpose for Argo. He couldn't take any meaningful action until the party of five had returned from the night before. While he was itching to go explore the new and uncharted land that he would have to learn, he knew that leaving could result in himself being noticed. And besides, while he knew that John would expect a map, as well as a verbal description (both on an extremely annoying amount of detail) of the area, not being discovered was a direct order. And you never went against John's orders. His fingers once again moved up to stroke lightly over the scar on the back of his neck.
He was jostled out of his thoughts by a girls' scream. Half for staying in character and half because he was bored, he moved to find the person, and the source of their scream. He wasn't that surprised to find the girl being bullied by Murphy. If he had any doubts that Murphy truly was a criminal before, they were gone instantly. While Argo could see why some would want to take their wristbands off, forcing someone by holding them over a campfire was certainly not the way to do it and mission or not, Argo was going to put a stop to it. He had taken a step forward towards the fire when Wells beat him to it, literally bursting the scene.
A fight had broken out not long after and was over even quicker. Argo could tell that Wells had some form of fighting training. Being the Chancellor's kid would give you that opportunity. John may have even taught Wells how to fight at the Chancellor's request, something one does not refuse. Murphy on the other hand was the exact type of fighter you would expect from a juvenile delinquent. Desperate, untrained and ineffective. His moves were uncoordinated and sloppy and while he may have been able to win against most others with a similar style, he would almost always lose against anyone who knew what they were doing, a category that Wells falls under.
Argo took note of how Bellamy made the fight equal, though did nothing to try and prevent bloodshed or the violence in general. He was going to be a problem Argo could already tell. Someone to keep an eye on for sure. Speaking of people of importance, Clarke had returned seemingly at the perfect moment when Wells had his blade to Murphy's throat. He waited with some interest while she lectures the group on their idiocy in removing the wristbands. He already knew full well what the wristbands were for. In truth, he was considering trying to get some of the hundred (now ninety-eight he added in his head) to rebel against Bellamy's decision but dismissed it almost immediately. Most would share the boy's views and would otherwise be too scared to resist if they didn't. Either way, Bellamy was too influential for Argo to do anything about at the moment.
It was when she addressed the absence of Jasper and more importantly, the reason for his disappearing that Argo showed real interest. He had navigated his way as quickly and inconspicuously as he could to a spot in the trees. Killed (presumably - best to count him as dead for the moment) by a spear thrown from a great distance away with accuracy? Already Argo was creating a persona in his head of this new enemy. Not technologically advanced, most likely a tribe made up of hunters who lived off the land by adapting to it. An image of what was referenced as a 'First Nations Person' sprung to Argo's mind as the closest comparison he could make from what Clarke and the others had told the group. Either way, they proved to be a threat to the group...or were they?
If Jasper's killer were as deadly and accurate as he had been described, then why not kill all five of them? Was it mercy? Most likely not Argo decided. The most logical reason that Argo could think of would be to use the survivors as messengers for what happened. To let the rest of them know not to mess with him, or his people. But still, you only needed one person to deliver a message and four seasons bodies is four times as intimidating as one. He needed to hear the story again to be sure. He had a brief thought that it didn't matter why he had let the others go, only that he had and that was enough. But as usual, one of John's teachings rang in his head.
"Sometimes, it is just as important to know why your enemy is doing something as well as what they are doing." This situation applies.
He had made it back to the main part of camp when Clarke, Wells, Murphy and Bellamy were heading out. He would have preferred to talk to Clarke about what had happened but seeing as that wasn't an option, he decided to speak to whoever he saw first. This happened to be the other female that went, Octavia Blake. As of now, she was sitting on a log with a big dressed similarly to Murphy a few meters away on what Argo assumed was guard duty, most likely appointed by Bellamy. He must have been staring because she soon caught his eye and held his gaze. She seemed confused at first but then adopted a sultry smile and winked at him. Acting as if this had any effect on him, Argo adopted the role of an awkward teenage boy and looked away in false embarrassment. He saw Octavia laugh quietly to herself and then motioned over to a gal in the tree line to the left of her. He smirk left no wonder as to what she wants suggesting and Argo nodded his head rapidly, acting as any hormonal teenage boy would.
He watched her as she made her way out of sight and followed her soon after. She had pushed further into the tree line probably for more privacy and Argo followed her. He came upon her in a small clearing, again sitting on a tree stump and admiring a flower. She turned to greet him with a seductive smile and he smiled in turn, playing the part of the bashful teenage boy rather well. The girl laughed again, a cute laugh Argo figured most people would describe it as, before she stood up and walked over to him.
"Why hello," she began in an overly friendly tone. "Can't say I met you before though I wish I had." Argo laughed quietly and said to her "My name is Jacob. My friends called me Jake." Three easy lies he had practiced hundreds of times. They continued small talk for a bit when Argo was hit with the realization that she was trying to seduce him. He scolded himself for not picking up on it sooner and could imagine the lecture (and possible beating) the John would have given him at his lack of awareness. Argo would have been flattered had she been sincere. But she was just trying to get back at her brother and undermine his authority. If Argo was anyone else, he may have been upset. But he was trained by John, the master of not caring about anything or anyone and it didn't affect him one bit. After all, wasn't he using her for information after all?
Argo's assumptions of the girl weren't entirely accurate. Yes she did want to spite her brother and her new bodyguard Atom but she also found this boy (whose name she didn't know or bother to ask) to be quite attractive. He had this shy sense about him that went well with his shaggy brown hair that was cut short enough to not reach halfway down his forehead. He had the most striking blue eyes she noticed that seemed to light up as he smiled at her. She was so distracted by his eyes that she didn't even notice the scar that ran from just under the outer corner of his left eye down to his lip.
The feeling of attraction wasn't the same from Argo. While he could definitely say that Octavia was strikingly attractive John had made it abundantly clear that one's looks mattered little. The only thing about them that mattered was how you could use them. It was because of this that Argo had no interest in Octavia other than her first hand knowledge on what happened to Jasper. Connections with people, both physical and emotional were weaknesses and John said that weaknesses would get Argo killed. Seeing as that was the case, John had trained Argo to not want either of these with anyone. In fact, loving someone or making love to someone was something that Argo had aimed to make himself incapable of doing. Sure he would easily go through the physical motions of love making if his mission required it, but he would take no pleasure from the act.
"I'm just glad that you're okay." Another lie. He didn't care one way or the other if she had made it out alive, he just needed her to feel that he did. "Yeah well Jasper saved me and Clarke did an okay job of patching me up."
"Yeah I can't believe what happened to him. I mean getting hit and falling into the river like that." Octavia frowned at this and corrected the boy. "No that's not what happened. We were planning to cross the river and he was the first one to do it. Clarke was planning to go when the spear hit him. By the time we went back, his body was gone." That was it. That was exactly what Argo needed. Now he needed to get out of this conversation. "Oh. Right well still that's pretty intense." Octavia's frown was replaced by a smile as she laughed and and placed her hand on Argo's knee.
"It's a good thing you're cute," she said. 'Oh good,' Argo thought dryly. 'Something else I care absolutely nothing about.' He noticed her hand inching up his leg slowly and he looked back up to find that she had leaned in much closer so that there faces were only inches apart. "But Clarke didn't do too amazing of a job. I could really use a...distraction from the pain." Argo didn't even have a second to make an attempt to leave when she planted her lips on his. It was then that Argo knew he made a mistake. Her other hand moved up to the back of his head and pressed his head more forcefully to hers, ensuring he had no escape.
Oddly enough, Argo didn't want it. Even more surprising, he found himself enjoying the feeling of her lips moving in time with his. The kiss was soft yet passionate at the same time and Argo found that he wanted more. His own hand moved to grip her waist while the other cradled her face. A brief image of John yelling at him entered his mind but was gone instantly when he felt Octavia's tongue lick at his bottom lip. John and his mission momentarily forgotten, he stood up and dragged the younger girl with him to press her back again the tree. She gasped in surprise and he couldn't help but feel smug as she smiled at his enthusiasm. This time they both leaned in, each wanting to continue the kiss. Both hands now moved to grab the girl's slim waist while hers traveled upwards to cradle Argo's face. Her other grabbed his hair and held him in place. This time, Argo reciprocated the girl's actions and their tongues met briefly. Argo couldn't relate any feeling in his seventeen years to what he felt now and he didn't care enough to try. Not when her hips were pressing up against his and his hand was moving down to grip her ass. At this moment, everything seemed perfect. No mission, no threat, no test, no training. Just him and the feeling of pleasure. Until it wasn't perfect.
Octavia's hand had moved to the back of his neck while her other than traveled south. It was at the same time that her hand had reached his crotch when she gripped the back of his neck, her fingers briefly running over the scar that was there. All at once, the pleasure stopped and his memories assaulted him. He saw flashes of him from his younger days, years before when he was still in training. The images switched from his bloody hands to John's angry face, from the straps on his arms and legs to the girl sitting across from him in the same position. The pain flared behind his eyes and broke away from the girl's lips. The girl who had no idea what Argo was feeling and instead took his actions as encouragement. Her mouth latched onto his neck and began to leave hungry kisses there. That was enough to bring Argo back to the present where he desperately wanted to escape his current situation. His hands moved up and gripped Octavia's arms hard as he shoved her away. She let out a rush of air as her back hit a tree and she wore a look of confusion and of pain. Whether it was physical from the tree or emotional from the rejection, Argo didn't know or even care to know. He just wanted to leave.
A mix of fear and pain filled his eyes as he looked into Octavia's. "I'm... I'm sorry." he said in a breathy voice. A moment of silence hung between them before she responded. "It's... It's okay really." Argo was about to speak when a new voice cut him off. "Hey!" The pair turned to look at the newcomer who happened to be Atom. 'Well fucking great,' Argo thought bitterly. "What the hell is going on here?" It was a question as much as it was an accusation and thankfully for Argo, Octavia answered first. "We were just talking Atom, no need to try and prove how big you are." Atom glared at Octavia and Argo figured now would be the best time to leave. He tried to slip past the other man but Atom didn't let him go. "Hey," he shot out his hand to land on Argo's shoulder. "I'm not finished with you yet." He tried to spin the boy around and that's when Argo lost control. He spun on his own accord and sent a fist into Atom's stomach. Before the older boy could even register the blow, Argo had carried in by crossing his left fist into the boy's jaw. He stepped forward and placed his left foot behind the now disoriented boy's right and reached up with the left hand to grab his face and bring him to the ground, tripping him over his foot.
It had all happened within a second. So fast that Octavia wasn't exactly sure what just happened. She stared slack jawed and wide eyed as Argo calmly stepped back and held his fists up in front of his body ready for a retaliation. None was forthcoming however from the now unconscious Atom. Argo looked from the body to Octavia before dropping his guard. "I - I have to go." And with that, he moved past a still stunned Octavia who just watched him leave.
It was hours later, the moon shined above him as the only light source he would have for the night. He had left the camp not long after the incident with Atom and Octavia. Even now he felt a sickening in his stomach at the way he lost control. Both when he was kissing Octavia and when he had attacked Atom. He would have been more nervous of his secret getting out, or at least of him becoming noticed to the rest if Atom were not such a proud person. He wouldn't willingly go tell anyone that he got his face pushed into the dirt so easily. Octavia was a different story. She may very well tell the others what happened, or maybe just her brother. He didn't care much about what Octavia thought of him. Letting his...was it lust? He wasn't even sure what had made him lose the control that he had spent years practicing. Whatever it was, he would make sure that it would never happen again, not when he and the rest of the 100 (who he saw as his responsibility for the time being) were in such an unknown and seemingly hostile land. If Octavia thought poorly of him, that was okay, preferable even. So long as she kept her mouth shut about the incident.
Argo grunted and kicked the tree that he was currently leaning on. He still hadn't found the supply drop that John had made for him and to make matters worse, the lack of daylight made navigating to find it nearly impossible, not to mention incredibly dangerous. Figuring he had no other (sensible) option, he sat down with his back to the tree and waited for morning to come. He wouldn't sleep, he knew. The incident today with Octavia had left him angry at himself and the boy found he was replaying the scene over in his mind, trying to decipher what made him lose control. That and the dangerous position that he found himself in. Unknown territory that belongs to unknown enemies while he had a lack of food and sleep? He didn't dare risk falling asleep. Instead, he traded the usual nightmares he had for the self berating that came with his lifestyle. Both of them sucked.
He had heard it. It was barely there but Argo was sure that he had heard the rustling of the branches. In what had been a windless night, the moving of branches mixed with the rustling of trees was a sure giveaway that he was no longer alone. He gave no outward sign that whoever it was had made themselves known. His breathing remained even and his body didn't move, his muscles only tightened in anticipation. There was nothing for the next couple of minutes. The newcomer knew that they had made a sound and was now being extra cautious, playing the waiting game with his target. It was a game that they would lose. Argo was trained for situations such as these. Where making the wrong move would mean death, showing your enemy that you knew of them would force them to act, something you may not be prepared to face.
Whoosh!
Argo had only half a second to react. He brought h down to his chest and instantly rolled to the side. The spear grazed his side and he hissed out in pain. Ignoring the burning sensation that now had engulfed his side, he continued rolling until he was in a standing position. Morning had come and some light broke the heavy tree tops. He scanned where he had decided the throw had come from and waited for his enemy to make the next move. He debated trying to grab the weapon that was no embedded into the tree trunk but dismissed it. That would take a few seconds at the least, seconds where his back would be exposed to his would be killer. Besides, his quick study of the weapon told him that it would be clumsy and ineffective in a fight, and he knew that he wasn't a better shot with it then his enemy. For now, all he could do was wait.
He heard the familiar whoosh and this time dropped directly to his stomach. The spear flew over his head and landed with a dull thud into the earth between his parted legs. He rolled forward to his feet once again and this time decided to stay in a crouch, opting for the position that provided him the most mobility. He heard rustling from above him and tensed his body, ready to spring out of harm's way when he needed to. To say he was surprised when a body dropped from a tree branch directly above him was an understatement. He jumped to the side as the heavy body landed on the ground, performed a roll himself and stood. The two stood facing each other, each sizing the foreign sight in front of them up.
Argo's original thought of a First Nations Person wasn't entirely accurate he decided as he looked upon the person in front of him. He was dressed in thick clothing of what appeared to be a mix of armor and animals's clothing. His face was half covered by a mask that stopped just below the eyes. He could see what he assumed to be war paint around the eyes which were a dark and menacing thing themselves, filled with anger and death. The most noticeable thing about the man however was the amount of hair he had. From what the teenager could see, part of it was braided down the left side of his face while the rest was tied into a giant mass.
He still held the weapon, Argo noticed. Out in front of him like one would hold a spear. The two continued to circle each other before the first move of the fight was made. The Grounder stepped forward and jabbed twice at Argo who sidestepped the first strike that was aimed at his leg and then deflected the second that was meant to stab him in the stomach. Argo knew that this fight would be a defensive one for him. he would have to wait until his opponent made a mistake and then he would capitalize on it. They continued to circle one another when his opponent attacked again. The same two jabs, only this time much slower and not aimed in areas that would be very effective. It was as if he was just trying to keep him in that one spot which Argo found weird since he clearly had the advantage in this fight. Unless...
Whoosh!
Argo once again dropped to the ground and watched as another spear that was thrown from behind him sailed into the chest of the opponent he was fighting. The man dropped to his knees where he looked down at the spear and gripped it weakly. He seemed to be deciding whether or not he should try to pull the weapon out but decided against it. Instead, his eyes found Argo's who had remained in the prone position and Argo watched as the confusion in the man's eyes switched to what looked like respect.
He heard shuffling behind him and turned to see a figure disappearing into the trees. He stood up to follow the man but at that moment, pain flared in his side and he decided against pursuit. If he really needed too, he could track the person's movements when more daylight had made its way onto the land. Instead, he decided to move the man who was lying a few feet away from him. Surprisingly, he was still alive. He was grasping for the sword that was slung on his hip, a pointless effort if he was trying to use it to kill Argo. But this man was a warrior and knew that the fight was done. A thought struck Argo as he remembered reading of warriors from times long ago, who believed it was dishonourable to die without a weapon in hand.
Argo then reached for the man's sword and placed it in his hand when he had turned him over to lay on his back. At once, the man stopped his struggle and he looked up into Argo's eyes, a look of gratitude taking a hold of them.
"What is your name?" Argo asked in a soft voice. He didn't expect an answer from the man who probably didn't speak English, and was surprised when the man uttered a single word "Hethro." Argo gripped the man's hands that were both clasped around the hilt of his weapon before speaking. "Well Hethro, your fight is over." Argo was further surprised when he felt on of Hethro's hands let go of the weapon and grip his forearm in return for the show of respect. It was the last show of strength that the man did as the light grip vanished as soon as it had come and the man now fell still. Argo took a moment of silence to himself before deciding to search the body. Finding what looked to be a makeshift emergency med-kit, he wrapped his side in bandages and pocketed the rest of the kit. He had also come across a box full of multiple vials filled with different coloured liquids. Having no possible way to determine what they were, he grabbed the vials and pocketed them as well. The next twenty or so minutes involved searching the body and moving him further into the trees to keep from being discovered.
'Well I'll be damned. It seems I'm lucky.' Argo thought as he pulled a scrap of paper from the man's body and unfolded it. On it was a crude drawing of what he could only guess was John's supply drop. as well as a map of how to get there. The map started from a river that Argo had crossed some hours before he stopped his search and he decided he would make his way back there. He was eager to get some hours of decent sleep.
Upon arriving at the pod, Argo frowned. The door had scratches on it that were too precise to be made by animals. The Grounders must have found it before him and tried to get inside, a task made difficult by the keypad locked door that John had installed . He punched in the six digit code and sighed in relief as the door slid open, revealing boxes of supplies. Argo went through each of them and took a mental stock. There was enough food here to last him (he didn't intend on sharing with any of the others) for a month before he would need to worry. Along with food, there were all the medical supplies John had figured he would need and a small array of weapons. There were two pistols with extra ammo that would surely last him, as well as one rifle with significantly less ammo. Along with the firearms, John had provided him with a bow, a recurve he saw and frowned. It had been years since he had practiced with the bow and arrow and even longer since he used the less powerful recurve. Dismissing it, he went over to study the collection of knives.
There were a dozen throwing knives set in three groups of four. In addition to those, there were two double edged daggers in their sheaths, as well as two hunting knives with only one bladed side. The most impressive however was the longer knife that Argo instantly recognized. It was jet black with a wooden handle and a little over two feet in size. More of a small sword really, it was single bladed and in the hands of a skilled user, very sharp. Looking over all of the weapons again, Argo couldn't help but frown. The number of weapons was more than enough, but the number of usable weapons he could use was very limited to just a few of the knives.
If he had gone back to camp with an arsenal strapped to him then that would for sure raise questions. He decided that would move all the weapons to a location closer to the camp that was hidden and hard to reach for the average person. He would keep two knives on him at all times as well as some of the throwing knives. As much as he wanted to take the short sword with him, it would be far too suspicious of an item. After taking the weapons that he wanted, he locked the door to the supply drop and made his way back to the camp. He would start transferring the items in small amounts tomorrow after he had found a suitable location. He didn't need them at present but he remembered that one Grounder that he chose not to follow. It would soon be time for him to go hunting.
A/N:Hello guys! So I just recently got into The 100 and absolutely loved it and this idea popped into my head right away and I couldn't wait to write it. My story will generally follow the timeline and events of the tv show with minor changes to accommodate my Original Character. I have this fic pretty much entirely planned out so updates shouldn't be too much of a problem, especially if I see that there is a fan base by way of follows/favourites and reviews then I will be much more motivated to write.
My PM box is always open for literally anything. Comments, questions, criticisms, prompts or just to give a friendly hello. I always respond to pm's so you won't have to worry about that. Also, I encourage you to leave detailed and honest reviews, even if you think my writing sucks and that I should kill myself, please tell me.
I will probably be adding a Author's Note at the end of most (if not all) chapters just giving my opinions on the chapter or if I want to address anything specific.
May We Meet Again - I.W.M