Silentmayhem: I feel that way as well. There is something about her that I just don't really like.
Finishing up the last chapter.
(No man's land. Furlan meeting. Maynard Draiman.)
"This means war," Akio said. "We have to retaliate against the Mountain."
"It isn't our fight," Cassandra returned.
"It is now," Dieter jumped in. "They attacked one of our own."
I stood next to Chuck who leaned over Samuel's body. His heart was barely beating. Frankly, I was shocked he was still alive. Furlan healing capabilities were the only thing keeping him around.
The others had gotten fairly rowdy since Samuel had showed up half-dead on the porch. They'd split into two different factions. One argued for revenge against the Mountain Men, the other argued for greater caution. The only good thing I could say about this whole event was that it had given me a few more supporters willing to fight against the Mountain Men, who might not have been willing to otherwise.
I felt the speed of Samuel's heart drop dramatically. His breathing slowed and weakened. It was like I could feet the ghost of death walking up behind Samuel, stalking him.
"He's dyin'," I said quietly.
"He was shot twenty-five times," Chuck returned sadly. "His internal organs are a mess. There wasn't much hope to begin with."
Samuel's breathing hitched suddenly as the voices behind us grew in volume and intensity.
"We can't fight the Mountain!" One man whose name I didn't know shouted.
"They attacked us!" Dieter said. "They think we're a threat to them!"
"Enough!" A sharp voice cracked out like a whip.
It was Spader who spoke, grabbing everyone's attention like glue. Even I was listening, though I didn't look in his direction.
"Perhaps we do need to retaliate," Spader began once the clamor had settled. "But what we're neglecting to mention is that there is someone here who wanted us all to take action against Mount Weather before Samuel was attacked."
My back stiffened, but I still didn't turn. Spader's eyes bore into the back of my head with vicious intent.
"Just minutes before Samuel arrived on our doorstep," Spader continued. "I heard that Maynard was gathering support for his own personal mission against the Mountain."
Whispers flitted back and forth across the room. Chuck looked to me with concern. I just grumbled in annoyance.
"What's your point?" Roan questioned aggressively. He was inarguably my closest friend and ally among the Furlan. It was good to have someone to back you up.
"My point?" Spader asked rhetorically. I could envision him looking to the other Furlan with an amiable expression. The guy was too charismatic for his own good.
A brief silence hung over the group while we all waited for Spader's next words.
"Don't you find it suspicious that, on the day of a meeting, Maynard comes with a plan to attack the Mountain Men," Spader said. "And, conveniently, Samuel was attacked. Then he says it was the Mountain Men who did it."
I did not like where this was going.
"Something isn't adding up here," Spader continued his monologue. "The chances of both those things happening the same day are pretty low."
"You think Maynard attacked Samuel?" Roan asked dumbfounded.
"Not only do I think that Maynard attacked Samuel," Spader answered. "I also think this is part of a larger plot to gain control of the Furlan."
The whispers ran rampant through the group now. Gradually, the volume picked up until people were once again shouting at each other.
"This is ridiculous," Chuck grumbled to himself. "What a load of rubbish."
Then, Samuel died.
It was sudden. If death had been hanging over his head, then he had just brought his scythe down on Samuel's heart. He was gone.
I didn't feel overly sad, after all, I had only met the guy once. I had lost my one and only direct eyewitness that could disprove Spader's claims. That bothered me.
I didn't expect all the Furlan to believe Spader's outlandish tale, but the seeds of doubt had been sewn. Sometimes, that's all it takes.
"He's gone," I said finally.
"What?!" Chuck asked loudly, leaning over Samuel's face.
"He's not breathing," Chuck continued in a rush as the crowd stopped shouting.
Chuck quickly took Samuel's pulse, finding that his heart wasn't beating. I stepped back to allow the brit to perform chest compressions. It wouldn't do anything.
I turned away from the scene to see everyone's eyes on Samuel's body. Everyone except Spader that is. My enemy stared at me with a sick smirk on his face. I sent him a slight shake of my head in annoyance.
"Was it you?" One woman asked.
My eyes snapped to my left to see an Indian woman, the one who I'd seen fighting against Roan at my first meeting.
"No," I returned calmly. "It wasn't. Spader's talkin' shit."
"Talking shit?" Spader asked, pushing his way past the others in his way.
He stopped just in front of me, looking just the same as he had a moment ago. That obnoxious smirk was plastered across his face.
"Your people are the only ones who have guns," Spader argued. "Samuel was shot a number of times. Mountain Men wouldn't have known they had to shoot Samuel so many times to kill him. A Furlan would know."
"The Mountain Men have guns asshole," I shot back. "And, if I wanted to kill Samuel, I'd hit him once in the kneecap and then shoot through his brain. I'm not that sloppy."
Some Furlan nodded along with me, agreeing that I would've done a much cleaner job of killing Samuel.
"That's the point though," Spader said. "If you'd done a good job at killing him, it wouldn't have been believable. Plus, he couldn't have struggled all the way over here to tell us that the Mountain Men attacked him."
"Yer graspin' at straws here," I returned logically. "Why would Samuel have said anythin' about the Mountain Men? Why wouldn't he have just called me out? I was on the porch with three other people."
"Look," Spader said. "It's you. I know it is. You've wanted nothing but to take over since the very beginning."
"That ain't an argument," I replied.
"Shut up all of you!" Chuck's shout pierced my eardrums in the small space.
Spader and I turned hesitantly toward him.
"I'm not having this sort of talk here right now," Chuck said lowly. "I'm trying to save my friend's life. So, either help me save Samuel, or get the fuck out now."
(Mount Weather Territory, somewhere in the woods. Lincoln)
Lincoln's eyes roved back and forth cautiously. He wanted to be aware of everything going on around him. They were close to the reaper mines now. That meant the danger became greater with every step they took.
He and Bellamy descended a steep hill, being careful not to fall over. Bellamy would eat the dirt if he fell, quite literally.
Just up ahead, a few hundred yards further, was the cave where the reapers made their home. Lincoln shivered at the memories of his time there. It was a truly horrible place, full of death and destruction. No soul came out of there the same as when they entered.
Lincoln was just about as tainted as you could get. He was an addict, going right back into the hell he had just barely managed to escape. He thought of Octavia, and about how much she cared for him. Lincoln couldn't afford to let himself slip back into his previous state of mind.
Lincoln stared at the opening to the cave. Inside it was pitch black. They couldn't see anything from outside it. It was like a black hole, swallowing every bit of light and hope that touched it.
"Come on," Bellamy encouraged.
Lincoln still didn't go. He didn't want to reenter that hell. And it was hell, in the most literal sense Lincoln had ever conceived of. He couldn't imagine anything worse.
"Let's do this," Bellamy continued the encouragement.
Lincoln knew he had to go inside. People were depending on him for this. Once again, he thought of Octavia. She would've told him to quit whining and get his ass in there.
Lincoln shook himself.
"Quit whining and get your ass in there," He whispered to himself.
He stepped forward tentatively. The next step was easier, and the third even easier. Eventually, Lincoln walked straight into the den of the reapers.
He was going back to hell on Earth.
(Dropship, graveyard. John Murphy.)
It was dark now. Murphy and Jaha had arrived here hours ago. Murphy had wandered around bored out of his mind, but glad he wasn't on work detail. Jaha hadn't left the side of his son's grave. Murphy didn't particularly care how Jaha felt over his son's death, but he was certainly entitled to a period of mourning, even if he was a dick.
That being said, Murphy was tired of waiting around.
He walked past the graves of his fallen comrades towards Jaha. He knelt over Wells's grave like he was in great pain. He probably was.
"You about done?" Murphy questioned. "We've got to be heading back."
"How well did you know him?" Jaha asked, wiping a hand across his forehead.
"Well enough to be hung for his murder," Murphy returned dryly.
Jaha looked up in shock at Murphy's words. Of course, he hadn't known.
"Clarke sugarcoated it for you, didn't she?" Murphy said.
"What happened to my son?" Jaha asked, coming to his feet with wide eyes locked on Murphy's face.
"A twelve-year-old girl stabbed him in the neck with a knife she took from me," Murphy said.
Jaha's mouth opened and closed several times as he looked away from Murphy. He looked dumbfounded.
"Why would she do that?" Jaha shook his head, still staring at the ground.
"Because she couldn't kill you," Murphy answered.
Jaha's eyes flicked up again to meet Murphy's. There was a deep sadness there. He now realized just what sort of pain he truly caused people.
"So, you've got a lot of blood on your hands Chancellor," Murphy said. "And every single one of them, including your son would still be alive if you hadn't sent us down here."
Thunder rumbled in the distance as Jaha's face contorted. The pain was still evident on his face, but he was obviously deep in thought.
"If I didn't send you, they would've died on the Ark with the rest of us," Jaha said, approaching Murphy. "And we never would have known that Earth was survivable."
Murphy just shook his head. Why did it matter that the Earth was survivable or not? Coming down to Earth probably cost more lives than it saved.
"Their sacrifice is why we're here," Jaha said. "Good can come out of even the darkest acts John."
Murphy remained silent, just staring at Jaha. Jaha, for his part, looked away from Murphy again, thinking over his words and the events that had transpired in this small clearing.
The former Chancellor shook his head, then walked off towards the dropship.
"Camp 'You' is that way," Murphy quipped, pointing in the opposite direction.
"We'll rest at the dropship for a while," Jaha returned, his back still towards Murphy.
Murphy shook his head now, then shrugged.
"Suit yourself," he said.
He followed Jaha, stepping past the graves of his fellow prisoners.
Murphy supposed he understood why Jaha made the arguments he did. It just didn't seem right, justifying your manipulative actions because they had an outcome that seemed good. Murphy wasn't even sure if the outcome was good though.
So many people had been killed for the sake of their return to Earth. Was it worth it? Murphy still didn't know.
For all the talk about finding a home, Murphy still hadn't found his. This place didn't feel like home, especially not anymore.
(Camp Jaha. Octavia Blake)
The rain poured down, soaking Octavia through to the bone. She shivered lightly, feeling the cold set into her skin. Hypothermia was a real concern in these conditions.
She sat off to the side of the central square where the grounders still trained. They had worked pretty much nonstop since they arrived.
Octavia watched two men with big beards, battering at each other with swords. Their technique looked decent, but they didn't have the grace or complexity to their movements that Maynard possessed. Octavia hoped she had enough of that grace through learning from Maynard.
That was one thing that she was deeply frustrated about. These days, it seemed that Maynard was far too busy to teach her anything. With his newfound position as respected yet untrustworthy amongst the grounders, and his status as a Furlan, he was always doing something else.
All this made it quite difficult for Octavia to hone her skills effectively.
Indra wandered through the crowd of grounder warriors, calling out to them in Trigedasleng. Octavia only caught a couple of words. Something about 'no food' and 'going on a hunt'. With a hand, Indra led the grounders towards the gate.
Octavia was done sitting by and watching. She was just as much a warrior as the rest of them.
She stepped out in front of Indra directly.
"Time for one more?" Octavia questioned.
"Step aside sky girl," Indra ordered threateningly. "We're hungry."
"Make me," Octavia returned calmly.
Indra stared at Octavia for a long moment, breathing heavily. The others in camp gathered in anticipation, watching to see what would happen.
Octavia maintained her stare against Indra's eyes, showing her that she was not afraid.
"Fio!" Indra turned to her men and called. "Give this girl what she wants!"
Octavia felt slightly insulted by Indra's tone, but she ignored the woman in favor of facing off against whoever Fio was.
A man with a shaved head and a dirty scruffy beard stepped forward, twirling his sword once and pointing it at Octavia. Fio was an ugly bastard if Octavia had ever seen one. He had a tattoo stretching around the left side of his head and stopping just in between his eyebrows.
Regardless of Fio's ugliness though, he was built like a brick wall. He was short and stocky with wide shoulders and hips. His belly even stuck out a little bit, but Octavia had no doubt that this man was seriously strong.
Octavia drew her own sword, walking forwards towards Fio in the space created by the grounders.
She flicked the tip back and forth as she and Fio circled. Her brain entered combat mode, turning on every available sense and reflex she had.
Fio sent menacing looks her way while Octavia simply watched. She couldn't let him get in her head. That would spell defeat. Combat was all about mind over matter, controlling your emotions, and not allowing your opponent to control you.
Fio lunged forward. It was an obvious feint, with the intent of sending her running for the hills. Joke was on him though. Octavia wasn't scared.
"What's wrong?" Octavia asked lightly. "You scared?"
Some of the grounder's chuckled while Fio grumbled to himself. Octavia was winning the psychological battle now. She would let Fio come forward first, forcing him to react to her words.
Sure enough, Fio did come forward quickly. He swung his sword in a long angular attack.
Octavia backpedaled, creating a small bit of space between herself and Fio. She blocked his stroke. Then, seeing him going for a backhanded blow, Octavia took a sliding step to her left, forcing the swing to take longer than usual.
As Fio's arm came towards her, Octavia used her own sword to block the attack. She quickly followed up by trapping Fio's sword arm in her left hand and punching forward with her right.
Her knuckles, still clenching her sword, collided with Fio's face with a crack. She followed through with her strike, sending Fio's face whipping around to the left.
Fio grunted as blood sloshed its way out from between his lips. The grounder yanked against Octavia's hold with his sword arm, tossing her off to the side.
Octavia maintained her footing, stepping lightly to avoid being thrown off balance.
Fio touched his own hand to his mouth, then stared at the blood there. He looked enraged now.
Some of the grounders in the crowd whispered in disbelief. Not only had their best warrior been killed by a sky man, but now another of their warriors had taken a serious blow from an untrained sky girl.
Octavia smirked lightly at the thought.
Fio came forward again, this time wilder than the last.
His swings were unchecked and wonky. There was no technique in his attacks, only brute force and some speed.
Octavia danced backwards, light as a butterfly, blocking and dodging Fio's reckless attacks. Seeing an opening, Octavia stepped inside the length of one strike, catching Fio's sword arm again.
She promptly planted a vicious elbow on Fio's nose. It crunched under the impact. Octavia wrapped one hand around Fio's neck and pulled him down into a knee strike. The blow landed against his gut causing him to wheeze loudly.
Not finished, Octavia used one of the few takedowns Maynard had taught her. She pushed against Fio's shoulder and chopped down on his calf with her right leg.
Fio's own right leg popped off the ground and he landed heavily on his back in the mud.
He groaned in pain, his face smeared with blood.
"You going to give up that easily?" Octavia taunted him.
She took a few steps back, waiting for Fio to make a move.
Eventually, after a long moment, he did. He struggled to his feet with deadened eyes. Octavia saw no trace of anger or fear there anymore. What she did see was undefinable, yet it wasn't dangerous. Octavia knew she had won.
Octavia pressed forward this time, forcing Fio to dodge back and forth. To his credit, he did a pretty good job of that.
Their blades came into contact, locking at the hilt. She shoved against Fio, sending him stumbling back a few steps. She followed up with a jump, spinning round kick. The instep of her foot planted itself squarely against the side of Fio's head.
The grounder dropped down face first in the mud. Given the sheer power of the blow, Octavia knew Fio was out, and he wouldn't be getting back up for a while.
She turned toward Indra and bowed slightly.
"You can go now," She said. "Thanks for letting me train with you."
Octavia walked away as the grounders quickly flipped Fio over to ensure that he wouldn't suffocate in the mud.
She noticed Kane's eyes following her. Raven sent her a nod and a smile.
Octavia ignored them both, making her way inside the crashed Ark. She was tired of standing out in the rain.
(Trikru territory, Pauna lair. Lexa.)
Her shoulder hurt like shit. Lexa was embarrassed that it was her who had been injured in their escape from the Pauna. If Lexa had to bet whether she or Clarke would've been hurt, Lexa would've picked Clarke every time.
Yet, that was life for you. You never knew what was going to happen.
Clarke use a bit of cloth she found on the floor as a makeshift sling. She tied it carefully around Lexa's right shoulder, so it hung across her body. Lexa's left arm rested in the sling, relieving some of the pressure from the wound.
"You should've left me behind," Lexa said. "Now two will die here instead of one."
Clarke finished tying the knot off, leaving Lexa's arm fully supported by the cloth sling.
The blonde huffed and walked away from Lexa, turning her back on the Commander.
"I'm still new to your culture," Clarke said. "But when someone saves your life, my people say thank you."
Clarke seemed slightly perturbed by something or other. Lexa couldn't put her finger on what, but there was obviously something bothering her.
"I'm serious Clarke," Lexa replied.
Clarke gripped the bars to the cell and shoved against them. It was a pointless action, one that would only serve to make Clarke angrier.
"To lead well you must make hard choices," Lexa continued.
Clarke seemed to stop suddenly, as though she realized something. She turned to Lexa and walked slowly forward, staring directly into her eyes.
"Hard choices?" Clarke asked rhetorically. "You're telling me that?"
"I've seen your strength it's true," Lexa acknowledged, stepping forward as well. "But now you waver. You couldn't kill Quint. You couldn't leave me to die. That was weakness."
"I thought love was weakness," Clarke quipped harshly as she turned away.
Lexa had explained to Clarke, just as she had explained to Maynard, her philosophy of leadership. Maynard had not taken to her thoughts, stating that he preferred death to giving up his love. Clarke however, had been more accommodating. She was unattached.
Both Clarke and Maynard were fascinating to Lexa, albeit for vastly different reasons. Clarke's strength of presence and ability to garner support amongst her people was awe inspiring. Maynard's sense of individualism and freedom was equally so. Furthermore, Clarke and Maynard each acted as incredible leaders but couldn't be more different in their approach.
Clarke was a speaker. In public, she would put herself under the spotlight and tell her followers just what she thought. Maynard was a doer. That wasn't to say that he couldn't speak under the spotlight, but he preferred to lead by example. He was the strongest or his people, unwilling to be caged.
"Mockery is not the product of a strong mind Clarke," Lexa finally responded.
Clarke turned back to Lexa again, this time with a frustrated look on her face.
"You want to know why I saved you?" Clarke asked. "Because I need you. God forbid one of your generals becomes Commander."
Lexa knew better than that. She couldn't exactly blame Clarke for her lack of knowledge though. How was she supposed to know that a Commander had to be a nightblood.
"You may be heartless Lexa," Clarke continued. "But at least you're smart."
Lexa smirked lightly.
"Don't worry," Lexa said. "My spirit will choose much more wisely than that."
Clarke blinked suddenly, as if Lexa's words shocked her and confused her.
"Your spirit?" She asked.
"When I die," Lexa explained. "My spirit will find the next Commander."
Clarke looked down to the ground for a moment, thinking over Lexa's words. There was a pensive look across her round face. Lexa had to admit, she was pretty.
"Reincarnation," Clarke said. "That's how you became Commander?"
"How are your leaders chosen?" Lexa asked with a hint of a smile in her tone.
A loud banging sound came from the door then. The conversation stopped instantly as the Pauna roared just outside their prison cell. Small chunks of dirt fell from the ceiling thanks to the force of the impact. Only Lexa's sword held the Pauna back now.
The two women backed away nervously watching the door. Eventually, it would break.
"It found us," Clarke said unhelpfully as they backed up against the bars on the opposite side of the room.
"Don't be afraid Clarke," Lexa said. "Death is not the end."
"We are not dying here," Clarke returned passionately. "I need your spirit to stay where it is."
Lexa stepped forward, drawing a small knife from her belt. It wasn't much, but it was all she had.
"Then get ready," Lexa said. "It's coming in."
The sword bent as Lexa prepared herself. It was virtually certain that both of them would be killed.
"Maybe we let it in," Clarke whispered to herself.
She jogged past Lexa, waving her hand.
"Come here," Clarke beckoned Lexa over to her.
Lexa followed Clarke, standing next to her beside the door. Clarke suddenly jerked Lexa's sword aside, throwing off the door. The Pauna pounded against the door.
The thick metal door whipped open and the Pauna crashed through, tumbling forwards. Clarke's trick was good. The Pauna expected more weight on the door, but there was none.
"Go!" Clarke shouted, urging Lexa through.
Lexa didn't even hesitate, following Clarke though the door without a word. They pulled the door shut behind them and slammed the latch shut on the outside.
The Pauna rammed into the door but, once again, was unable to get through.
"Let's go," Lexa said breathlessly, not wanting to hang around any longer.
Clarke nodded and followed her. Together, they just managed to get out with their lives.
(No man's land, Furlan meeting. Maynard Draiman.)
"So, who else do we have?" I asked Roan.
Braveheart and I sat in the chairs downstairs smoking cigars. After Chuck had kicked us out, Roan had done a quick poll of the general group, figuring out who would support us and who wouldn't. Quickly it seemed that we had an overwhelming share of the support.
Unfortunately though, things were rarely so simple. While we had a great deal of moral support from the others, the number of Furlan willing to actively participate in the conflict was relatively low. That was one of the problems with this anarchic society, people didn't band together often.
"We have Akio and Charles for sure," Roan returned.
"Ya haven't asked Chuck have ya?" I questioned curiously.
"No, but he's in," Roan answered. "I know it."
I nodded as I took another breath full of nicotine smoke.
"Okay, who else?" I asked.
"Dieter's with us and Lyle's willing to provide us with supplies and weaponry," Roan answered. "Elena's joining us too, but I don't think there's anyone else."
I wasn't surprised that Akio and Dieter were joining us. They were the most outspoken of all Furlan when it came to fighting the Mountain. Elena was a young Hispanic woman, not too much older than me, and she too was more naturally hawkish.
"Yer sure there's nobody else?" I asked for clarification.
"Unfortunately, yes," Roan took a drag from his own cigar.
"That's only five," I grumbled to myself. I had been hoping for quite a few more.
Unfortunately, though, Spader's opinions regarding Samuel's death made it a much more complicated issue. I didn't think that very many of the Furlan actually agreed with him, but what Spader did was create a political struggle.
Declaring war against the Mountain now was to put yourself in opposition against Spader and his followers. Regardless of correctness, it would be endangering to side with me.
Spader stood in the corner of the room with his three cronies. They whispered lowly to each other, occasionally casting glances in the direction of Roan and me. I didn't know their names, but all three men who made up Spader's group looked tough and menacing. They all stood around six feet with broad shoulders.
The whole issue with picking a side now was that it could conceivably tear the Furlan society apart. Generally, in small groups like this, it wasn't good to split into two different factions. That could have a violent ending. For now though, things seemed to be holding themselves together, even if it was a bit rickety.
"Ya said Lyle would supply us?" I spoke again.
Roan nodded, "He has all sorts of stuff. I've been to his territory. Lyle lives in an abandoned bunker, and he has any kind of weapon you could want."
I nodded slowly, still thinking over the logistics of the problem.
"Don't tell anyone that though," Roan said. "Lyle's a private guy. He doesn't want just anyone coming around." He paused for a moment and chuckled, "I swear Spader's been trying to find his stash for years."
I smiled too, looking at the back of Lyle's head. Even if he wasn't willing to fight himself, his supplies could be invaluable to our victory. Those supplies wouldn't come without a price knowing Lyle.
"How much are we gonna have to pay him?" I asked.
"Depends on how much we need," Roan returned. "How well armed are your people?"
"They're pretty well armed I suppose," I said. "We don't have many bullets though."
Roan smiled and took a long drag from his cigar. He blew the smoke into the air like a steam ship with a contented look on his face.
"Bullets go cheap," Roan said. "You get a hundred for one silver."
I rose my eyebrows in surprise. Even with my meager amount of silver, I could buy a shit ton of bullets. I probably needed to as well, considering Raven's new shooting habit. She ran through bullets like nobody's business.
"So, we can get plenty of bullets then," I thought out loud. "What else does he have that's useful?"
"He has some basic forms of medicine," Roan answered. "A few guns. I don't even know what else. He could have bombs for all I know."
"Sounds like we need to make a trip there," I said.
"I doubt he'll allow anyone who isn't a Furlan," Roan cautioned.
"Why don't we go straight there?" I asked with a smirk. "What's the point in waitin' around?"
Slowly a smile crept across Roan's face. He nodded his head, agreeing with me.
"We can go as soon as Chuck's ready," I said.
"Sounds like a plan," Roan replied.
(Camp Jaha, medical ward. Octavia Blake.)
Octavia sat in the Ark's cafeteria room. She was alone, not wanting to be bothered by anyone.
Her earlier display of combat prowess left many in the camp awed. By now, word had quickly travelled that Octavia had made one of the grounder warriors look like a fool.
There were, of course, others in the cafeteria, but none of them sat with Octavia. With her head bowed over the table, resting on her arms, Octavia sighed heavily.
Despite her victory, it still seemed that the grounders didn't find her of any real worth to them. What more did Octavia need to prove?
As she sat there thinking over the events of the day, Indra approached her. Octavia noticed, but did not acknowledge her presence. If she was here to berate her, Octavia wasn't interested.
Indra sat down across the table from Octavia, staring straight into her eyes.
"What do you want?" Octavia questioned.
Indra took in a deep breath and exhaled, almost like she had to force whatever words she was going to say out.
"I wanted to apologize," Indra said. "I was wrong."
Octavia remained silent but felt somewhat surprised by Indra's words. She had expected Indra to speak to her far more derogatively.
"You fought well," Indra continued. "Your movements were effective but sloppy. A more seasoned warrior would have made quick work of you."
Octavia rolled her eyes in response. Indra may have been right, but Octavia was tired of hearing about how she'd get her ass-kicked by better fighters. Thus far, it hadn't happened.
"Who trained you?" Indra asked.
"Maynard," Octavia answered shortly. "I've only been learning for a few months."
Indra hummed thoughtfully. Silence then held for a moment before the dark-skinned woman spoke again.
"You have spirit Octavia," Indra said. "But that spirit needs to be tempered with better judgement and guidance."
Octavia eyed Indra suspiciously, contemplating her words once again.
"Do you know what a warrior's second is?" Indra asked.
"An apprentice," Octavia answered.
"I can make you a great warrior, Octavia of the Sky People," Indra said nodding to herself. "If you're willing to do what it takes to become my second."
Octavia was shocked. She already had a teacher, but that teacher was often wrapped up in other affairs, leaving Octavia with no one to learn from.
"What's in it for you?" Octavia asked, wanting to be sure she was understanding Indra correctly.
"First lesson," Indra said. "Never question me."
Octavia clenched her jaw tightly. Indra's style of teaching was completely antithetical to Maynard's it seemed. Maynard encouraged questions, stating that it helped the student learn.
Indra stood from the table and began to walk away. Octavia had to decide now.
If she accepted Indra's offer, she would likely have more consistent training. It likely wouldn't be any harder than what Maynard expected out of her, but it would be stricter.
"Okay," Octavia said.
Indra stopped in her tracks.
"I'm in," Octavia said.
"Good," Indra returned. "We'll start tomorrow."
The grounder walked off. She exited the cafeteria quickly, like she didn't want to spend anymore time than was absolutely necessary in the room.
Octavia smiled lightly to herself. It seemed that she had proved herself after all.
(Dropship. John Murphy.)
The rain pounded down on the roof of the dropship. It was like a hailstorm, a thick and continuous sound. Murphy was seriously thankful that he wasn't sitting outside right now.
Rain truly was a force of nature, capable of giving life and taking it.
Jaha sat with his back against the wall, his legs crossed out in front of him. He pulled a small metal tin from his bag. Inside, were a few small pieces of jerky.
He held the tin out to Murphy, gesturing for him to take a piece.
Murphy made no immediate move to take any of the jerky. He wasn't interested in whatever Jaha was offering. It wasn't worth it to him.
"Are you sure?" Jaha asked. "You must be hungry."
"No one gives anything without expecting something in return," Murphy replied.
Jaha dropped his eyes and the tin, shaking his head slightly.
"That's a cynical way to go though life John," He said, taking a piece of meat from the tin.
"You pulled me off work detail. Now you're offering me food," Murphy said. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Everyone deserves a second chance," Jaha said. "That's why we sent the hundred to the Earth in the first place."
"What a load of shit," Murphy said. "You didn't give a damn about us. You still don't. That's why you're not fighting for those kids in Mount Weather."
"No," Jaha said as he took another bite of jerky. "I have to think of everyone."
Jaha stared Murphy in the eyes. Murphy, annoyingly, wasn't able to maintain the eye contact. He looked to the ground instead.
"I know you don't want to hear this," Jaha continued. "But sometimes, you have to sacrifice the few to save the many. Like I said, good can come out of even the darkest acts."
"Then you can take it from me that no good has come from any of this," Murphy said, looking up and meeting Jaha's eyes.
Jaha stared unblinkingly back at him. Those dark eyes had an unnerving quality to them, an unwavering intensity that almost hurt to look at.
"I was pardoned," Murphy said. "Slate wiped clean. I'm still treated like dirt."
"You've made mistakes," Jaha responded. "So have I."
"Well," Murphy looked away briefly. "I'm nothing like you Chancellor."
"No?" Jaha questioned.
Jaha remained silent for a moment, awaiting Murphy's response. Murphy said nothing.
"We both should have died several times over," Jaha said. "We both have suffered at the hands of the grounders. We both have been betrayed and imprisoned by our own people."
"So there's no place for either of us then," Murphy concluded. "Great. I thought you were supposed to be inspiring."
"There is a place," Jaha returned with a slight nod. "For all of us."
Murphy eyed Jaha suspiciously, not sure whether to believe him or not. Jaha wasn't exactly the most trustworthy man.
The former Chancellor leaned forward as if he was revealing a great secret.
"When I first landed on Earth," Jaha said. "I met a woman who spoke of a place beyond the dead zone. A place where everyone is accepted. A City of Light."
Murphy almost laughed. It sounded fake.
"That sounds like a fairy tale," Murphy commented.
"Or a second chance," Jaha said, leaning forward.
"You don't even know if it's real," Murphy said.
"You're right," Jaha admitted. "I don't, but I believe."
Murphy smirked to himself at Jaha's words. It all seemed so ridiculous to him.
"Okay," Murphy said condescendingly. "Well that's good for you Chancellor."
Tired of talking, Murphy grabbed his backpack and set it up off to his side as a pillow. It would be uncomfortable, but by now, Murphy was used to uncomfortable.
"Very good," Murphy said as he laid down against his backpack.
Silence held for a few moments while Murphy adjusted himself, trying to get comfortable against the hard metal floor.
"I'm going to find it John," Jaha said.
Murphy arched his back, stretching out the tight muscles there. It would at least give him a better chance of going to sleep.
"Once I do," Jaha continued. "I'm going to come back and lead my people home."
Murphy looked at Jaha uncertainly. The guy obviously had delusions of grandeur. His whole plan was a pipe dream, the longest of long shots.
What sort of place was literally everyone accepted anyway? It would have to be a perfect world, unmarred by the influence of people. Humanity was too dark and cruel to ever create a perfect all-accepting utopia.
Still unbelievably skeptical, Murphy rolled over, facing away from Jaha. He closed his eyes and tried his best to go to sleep.
(Mount Weather, Reaper tunnels. Bellamy Blake.)
Lincoln walked just ahead of Bellamy through the tunnels, leading him directly towards the entrance to the Mountain.
Fluorescent lights shone brightly in the darkened tunnel halls. Lincoln and Bellamy cast long shadows on the walls as they walked.
Turning down a side passage, they continued walking. This time instead of simply rocky ground. Bellamy's feet landed in between the tracks of a small railway.
Bellamy shrugged, trying to get the wood pole on his back comfortable. This prisoner disguise was really making his back ache.
Lincoln stopped suddenly. He had a dark look on his face.
"Why are we stopping?" Bellamy asked, turning back to face Lincoln.
Lincoln said nothing, only stared down at the ground with his jaw clenched. Bellamy followed his gaze to the ground below. Laying on the rocks was a small glass vial with a silver lid. There was a trace amount of bright red liquid inside.
Lincoln crushed the vial under his boot with a disdainful look on his face. He breathed deeply, attempting to control himself.
"You okay?" Bellamy asked.
"As soon as they open the intake doors, we attack," Lincoln returned, ignoring Bellamy's question. "Do not let it close. Once they're all dead, you go in. I'll make it look like you escaped. When you're inside-"
"I know," Bellamy interrupted.
As he spoke a shouting came from somewhere in the distance. Sounds were amplified in the tunnels, but those noises didn't seem too far away.
Turning, Bellamy noticed a faint orange torchlight flickering on the walls behind them.
"Another raider party," Lincoln said.
He moved to the restraints on Bellamy's wrists. Quickly, he started untying the left one.
"What are you doing?" Bellamy asked.
"We have to go back, it's the only way," Lincoln said nervously.
"Go back?!" Bellamy asked incredulously. "No way."
"There's three, maybe four," Lincoln continued on. "We can fight our way through."
"We'll never get a better chance than this," Bellamy insisted.
"I thought I could do this," Lincoln said harshly. "But I can't. It's over."
"No it's not," Bellamy replied. "We can join them."
Lincoln still looked skeptical.
"Listen to me," Bellamy continued. "When they bring out the red, you grab it, and you run like hell. The reapers will go nuts, the grounders will run, and the Mountain Men will have to deal with it. No one will be looking for a grounder running into the Mountain."
"I said no!" Lincoln hissed, grabbing hold of Bellamy's restraints.
Bellamy growled and shoved back against Lincoln viciously. He had to play up the conflict, make the reapers think the two of them were fighting. Lincoln would be forced to act and they would still have a chance.
"Fight back," Bellamy whispered as the reapers came around the bend in the tunnel. "They'll think I'm trying to escape."
Then, Lincoln did fight back. He quickly smacked Bellamy's hands aside and grabbed him in a rear-naked choke.
One reaper with burn scars covering his face stared at Lincoln.
Lincoln said something to the guy with the burnt face in a language Bellamy didn't understand.
The guy gave Lincoln a harsh order in the same language. Lincoln complied with the order, leading Bellamy over to a log with other prisoners attached to it.
Lincoln turned Bellamy roughly, but met his eyes with a determined look. Bellamy sent an imperceptible nod his way, showing him that he had made the right choice.
Another reaper stepped up behind Bellamy and tied a rough cloth around his eyes, blocking his vision of the outside world.
(Lyle's territory, Supply bunker. Maynard Draiman.)
To say that Lyle was a collector was an understatement. Lyle had more stuff than I could keep track of.
It had taken us only a few hours to reach Lyle's bunker. He'd led us through the forest to the base of a nearby mountain. On the exterior, there was a sturdy metal gate locked from the inside based on the appearance. To open that gate, Lyle slid aside a small section of metal to reveal a keypad and entered a passcode, 29765908231. Good luck remembering that.
The bunker itself was cavernous. It was tall, wide, and there were multiple rooms contained within. It looked like it could hold a thousand or more people inside comfortably.
It was lit by long LED lights ensuring a bright environment. We entered into the main section of the bunker, separate from the other rooms, which, for Lyle, had become storage rooms.
The big main room was filled with all sorts of large items, old engines, three grand pianos, sculptures, there was even an old Hughey helicopter and an Abrams tank. On the far wall facing the gate was a giant fresco, a copy of Michelangelo's Creation of Adam.
"Holy shit," Akio said breathlessly.
Those of us who hadn't been to Lyle's bunker before were in complete awe. That group, it seemed, was Elena, Akio, and I.
"You got that right," Elena agreed, also looking around in shock.
"How'd ya get all this stuff?" I asked.
"Scavenging mostly," Lyle replied as he led us forward through the greatest collector's garage of all time.
"You scavenged a tank?" Elena asked.
"That was already here," Lyle answered. "So was the Hughey."
"Why does this place even exist?" Akio asked.
"Based on what I found, it was created by some militia group over a hundred years ago," Lyle said. "They obviously didn't get back to it in time."
I was officially jealous. This was probably the best place to live I could think of.
"Feel free to look around," Lyle said. "Just don't break anything if you aren't willing to pay for it."
That threat was actually fairly serious. Some of the stuff in here must've cost a fortune.
"We don't have that long guys," I called out to the group before everyone got distracted. "Take some time to look at everythin' but make sure ya get what we came for."
That being said, the group dispersed quickly. Akio followed Chuck to the giant Michelangelo fresco, Elena went off into one of the side rooms looking for something or other, Roan and Dieter remained by Lyle's side discussing something, and I made a beeline for the tank. It was by far the coolest thing in the room.
The Abrams tank was a sandy desert camo color. The turret on top had two guns, a fifty-cal and of course the long gun. That cannon was bigger around than my head. The tank stood at eight feet tall, weighed over one-hundred thousand pounds, produced almost two-thousand horsepower, and had almost two feet of ground clearance.
I wanted to bring it back to Camp Jaha more than anything in that moment, but I doubted it worked. The tank was over two hundred years old at this point. It was practically an antique.
I moved on from the tank in search of other objects of interest.
Passing by what I assumed was a copy of Donatello's David sculpture, I made my way into a side room.
It was dark inside at first, appearing to me in shades of gray, but after flicking on a light switch, I found a room filled with books.
The ceiling was probably fifteen feet high, and the shelves stretched directly to the top. Those shelves were piled with books, practically bursting at the seams. There was no organization whatsoever, but inside this room was a treasure trove of information.
Unable to stop myself, I began perusing the shelves. There were many books I didn't recognize, likely thanks to the hundred-year gap of information in my head. I could've spent hours looking through the books, reading and learning. Unfortunately, though, I didn't have the time.
Suddenly though, as I spotted one book in particular, I found myself totally drawn in. Laying sideways on top of a bunch of science fiction novels was my favorite book ever written, Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand.
I knew that a lot of people didn't particularly like the book. It was after all, deeply polarizing. People on both sides of the political aisle criticized it heavily, but I found it enlightening and deeply moving.
Atlas Shrugged was about empowering the individual. It stood as a rugged defense of the freedom of the human mind. Without that ultimately rational tool, what did we have? What would be the point of everything?
I picked up the book and dusted off the front and back covers. I smiled as my fingers traced over the front cover.
Footsteps approached behind me, breaking me from my trance, but I didn't turn towards them. I knew it was Lyle who had come into the room after me.
"What are you looking at?" Lyle asked, stepping up behind me.
I turned to him and handed the book over for him to examine.
Lyle smiled, taking the book in his hands. He hummed in appreciation.
"I knew you'd like this one brother," Lyle commented.
"It's my favorite book," I said simply.
Lyle nodded slowly, then extended the book back out to me.
"Take it," Lyle said. "It's yours. I'd want to leave it in the hands of someone who would appreciate it."
I took the book back from Lyle, holding it in one hand. Atlas Shrugged was so long, it was practically a tome. The book was over a thousand pages.
Then, I reached inside my cloak and removed a small pouch. It jingled slightly as I retrieved it. I took a single silver coin from the pouch.
"Fair trade," I said, placing the coin in Lyle's hand. "I think Ayn Rand would prefer it this way."
Lyle looked at the coin, almost in awe. What that awe was due to I wasn't sure, but I doubted it was the coin itself.
"Probably," Lyle chuckled slightly.
A friendly silence held for a moment. It was borne of mutual respect. There was something about making a transaction that left all parties feeling as though they had accomplished something.
"Come on," Lyle broke the silence. He waved his hand as he put the coin in his pocket. "I'll show you where the weapons are."
I put Atlas Shrugged in my pack while Lyle led me out of the library room and into a separate smaller room. Inside that room, Lyle took a side door into another room.
That room was filled with guns and boxes full of ammo. There were pistols, rifles, and shotguns. It was filled with options.
Well, I certainly wasn't going home empty handed.
(Camp Jaha. Marcus Kane.)
The grounders had returned from their hunt a little over an hour ago. Kane had provided them with the necessary tools to cook the meat they caught. Said meat now sizzled over a fire.
It seemed that since Octavia's fight with Fio, the grounders and the sky people were actually able to get along with each other somewhat. Kane saw grounders and sky people talking to each other comfortably without the threatening undertones they displayed earlier.
Indra took a plate of meat from beside the fire and made her way to the center of their small congregation.
"Eat," She said, holding the plate out and looking right at Kane. "Get strong. Only then will we defeat the Mountain."
Kane met Indra in the middle of their circle and took the plate from her with a genuine smile on his face.
"Thank you," Kane said.
Indra said nothing in return. That woman definitely acted like every word from her mouth was worth a fortune. Kane took a bite of meat as the others came forward to claim their own food.
It was unseasoned and plain, but it was hot, and it was filling. They hadn't had meat readily available on the Ark. To have it in such plentiful quantities as they did here on Earth, was a blessing.
At the edge of the circle, Kane noticed Octavia. She sat alone, watching the others as they took their own plates of food. Octavia didn't appear to be interested. In fact, she looked preoccupied with something.
"You did this," Kane acknowledged as he sat beside the young woman.
"You're welcome," Octavia responded. "Don't blow it."
Their eyes met for a moment. Kane laughed lightly as a familiar face approached them.
It was Fio, the grounder who Octavia had defeated earlier that night. His face was covered in bruises and his nose was angled sharply.
"At least I could defeat the boar," Fio quipped lightly, holding a plate out in Octavia's direction.
Octavia took the plate with a slight nod of thanks to Fio.
"I see you're making friends," Kane commented.
Octavia remained silent for a long moment. Between them, the only sound they produced was the chewing of meat.
"What do you want from me?" Octavia asked finally.
"What do you think is going to happen once we get your friends back?" Kane asked.
Octavia met his eyes with an unreadable expression on her face.
"For now," Kane continued. "We have a common goal. But one day, this war is going to end."
"Just get to the point," Octavia interrupted him impatiently.
"We know so little about them," Kane said with a slight shake of his head. "You've earned their respect. I need you to be my eyes and ears."
"You're asking me to be a spy?" Octavia asked.
"I'm asking you to look out for your people," Kane replied.
Octavia held for a moment in silence.
"I am," She said.
Octavia stood and took her plate to go join Indra. Kane watched her the whole way, wondering who Octavia considered 'her people' to be.
(Dropship. John Murphy.)
Murphy woke suddenly to the sound of shouting outside. He couldn't understand the words, but he was sent flying to a sitting position.
Jaha, it seemed had already left the dropship to investigate. The curtain covering the door still flapped slightly from where it was pushed aside.
Murphy came to his feet, snatching up the pistol by his side as he went. He rushed out, readying himself for conflict. What was outside though, didn't require a violent response.
Outside, Murphy saw a small group of people from camp Jaha. There were four Guards among them, each carrying a rifle.
Jaha moved to the people, greeting them all warmly.
"What the hell is this?" Murphy questioned.
"We're going to the City of Light," Jaha answered, turning back to face Murphy.
"You're going now?" Murphy asked. "There's a million ways to die out there."
"Well," Jaha said with a lighthearted smile. "If it's not your time, nothing can kill you. If it is your time, it only takes one."
Murphy chuckled to himself at the idiocy. These guys were going out there with virtually nothing, and no idea of what they would do.
"You even have a map?" Murphy asked, coming down the dropship ramp.
"No," Jaha answered.
"Then how do you know where you're going?" Murphy asked.
"We don't," Jaha replied. "But I will not be ruled by fear."
Jaha then walked straight towards Murphy, staring him in the eyes the whole way.
"You want to stop being treated like a criminal?" Jaha asked. "Then, you have to stop thinking that's all you are. Take this leap of faith with me John Murphy. Let me show you that there's so much more for you than this."
Murphy remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Jaha turned away with the same light smile on his face. The former Chancellor seemed truly free, unburdened, even happy.
Jaha led the group off, away from the dropship. Murphy turned back to the dank tin can, wondering what he should do.
He knew he didn't have a home here. Nobody cared about him. Maybe though, in the City of Light, he could find his home.
Murphy followed after Jaha's group, now certain of his path for the first time in years.
(Trikru territory, somewhere in the woods. Clarke Griffin.)
It was a loud roaring sound that woke Clarke. She shot up in surprise, all her instincts telling her to run. She saw nothing but open woods though. Birds still chirped in the trees and a couple of squirrels chased each other through the limbs overhead.
"It's okay," Lexa's voice came from behind her.
Clarke turned, finding the Commander sitting with her back against the broken-down trunk of a tree.
"You're safe," Lexa said.
"How's your arm?" Clarke asked.
"It hurts," Lexa replied simply.
Clarke turned back to look again in the direction of the loud roar. The Pauna was still likely trapped in that room, aching to get out.
"We should go," Clarke said. "That cage won't hold forever."
Clarke stood, readying herself to move out. That didn't take long. She didn't have anything with her.
"Wait," Lexa said, following Clarke to her feet.
Lexa exhaled slowly, as if there was a great tension inside her she was trying to relieve.
"I was wrong about you Clarke," Lexa said. "Your heart shows no sign of weakness."
Clarke nodded in thanks and turned once again to the Pauna's lair, something about the cage caught her mind. There was something useful to do with cages.
"The cage won't hold," Clarke whispered, still thinking.
Then, it hit her.
"I think I know how to take Mount Weather," Clarke said turning back to Lexa. "We've been trying to get inside, but they've already let us in."
"What are you talking about?" Lexa asked with a shake of her head.
"Your army is already there," Clarke said. "They're locked in cages. We just need someone on the inside to let them out."
"Bellamy," Lexa realized. "You have faith in him?"
"I do," Clarke returned certainly.
"I hope your faith is well placed," Lexa said. "Because if he can't get inside, we can't win."
"He will," Clarke assured her.
(Mount Weather, Reaper tunnels. Lincoln.)
"Hurry up, we get the Red, then we eat," The leader of the small reaper pack said.
Lincoln was uncharacteristically nervous. His mind and heat both raced. He could feel his body's reaction to being close to the Red. His hand shook. Lincoln felt the need for the drug consuming him.
Bellamy stared up at Lincoln as his blind fold was removed. Lincoln hoped Bellamy would remember that the strongest were chosen for the Cerberus project. He would need to look weak to allow himself to be harvested. Hopefully though, it wouldn't matter. Lincoln was going to run through these people like a train.
The door was opened to the inside, and a few bodies emerged from within. They all wore white hazmat suits. A loud high pitched screeching sound came from one of the bodies, and Lincoln shrunk back with all the other reapers, hiding himself amongst them.
What he didn't expect though was the effect that sound would have on him. Lincoln remembered the hours of torture. The sound preceded the does of Red. The Red was coming. All he had to do was kneel down with the other reapers and receive the injection.
One man began dosing the reapers one at a time while Lincoln's mind warred with his body's desire. The groans of relief and pleasure didn't do anything to help Lincoln.
The same man pointed the needle directly at Lincoln, gesturing for him to take the drug.
Unable to stop himself, Lincoln crept slowly forward. His feet moved of their own volition. Lincoln fought as hard as he could, screaming internally for his body to stop, but it didn't.
Lincoln felt like a passenger in his own body as he knelt down on the ground heavily.
Bellamy was staring straight at him. He shook his head.
Lincoln tried as hard as he could to fight back, but still, he could do nothing. The loud ringing sound, the presence of the drug, it was all too much for his mind to overcome.
Lincoln tilted his head to the side, allowing the man access with his needle of Red.
It slipped into his skin, and Lincoln collapsed, feeling his mind swamped in the Red.
(Camp Jaha. Raven Reyes.)
Raven sat outside soaking up the sun. She took a bite of some of the meat leftover from the boar cooked last night.
The change after the meal was fairly evident across the camp. Grounders and sky people now spoke with each other, and most seemed to have a mutual respect for each other.
Now, the atmosphere seemed lighter, calmer. Though, that could just be that the weather was nicer today than yesterday.
"Stop right there!" A shout came from one of the guards manning the gate. "Show yourself!"
Instantly, the attention of everyone was drawn in the direction of the commotion. Raven placed her plate down next to her and stood. She took a few hesitant steps forward towards the noise.
One of the guards motioned with his hand for another to open the gate.
As the gate opened, five bodies were revealed. Standing at the front of the small group was Maynard.
A large smile broke across Raven's face as she jogged out towards the group. With Maynard were five others, four men and one woman. The first man was a short Asian with a clean-shaven face and short gray hair. The second was taller with a light dusting of gray scruff across his face. The third stood in the middle of the height range. He had long ash brown hair, a similarly shaded beard, and big tattoo wrapping around his neck. The last was the tallest. His skin was pale and his head was cleanly shaven in all areas save his eyebrows. The woman was Hispanic and also had gray hair. Maynard had brought a few of the Furlan back with him.
Maynard returned Raven's smile as they met with a tight embrace.
"Hey," Raven whispered softly.
"Hey," Maynard returned with a smile.
"You never told me you had a girlfriend Maynard," The long-haired guy quipped lightheartedly.
"Better than you got Braveheart," Maynard said as he and Raven broke apart.
As they spoke, Raven noticed Kane and Indra approaching together. That was unusual to say the least.
"What is this?" Indra questioned, eyeing Maynard suspiciously.
"These," Maynard said stepping back slightly. "Are the Furlan willin' to join in our fight against the Mountain."
"You brought Furlan into this camp?" Indra hissed.
Then, her eyes lit on the long-haired guy. She looked livid.
"You brought him here?" Indra asked.
"Glad to see you too Indra," The long-haired guy said.
"This is it?" Kane interrupted coming back to more important questions. "I thought you said there were thirty-two other Furlan."
"There are," Maynard replied. "But these five were the only ones willin' to join us."
Kane looked a bit shocked.
"Don't be surprised," Indra said lowly. "Furlan don't engage in disputes. They are weak and spend too much time talking."
"Why so few?" Kane asked.
"I told ya, the Furlan aren't really an organized group," Maynard said. "Everyone kinda does their own thing and leaves everyone else alone."
"Anyways," The Asian man jumped in. "Five Furlan is more than enough to aid your force. I'm Akio by the way."
He stuck out his hand to Kane first, "You must be Kane?"
"Yes," Kane responded, shaking Akio's hand.
"And Indra?" Akio questioned, holding his hand out to the grounder. "Roan's told me a lot about you."
"Has he?" Indra questioned, harshly levelling her gaze on the long-haired man.
Akio then turned to Raven, his hand extended amicably.
"And you are?" He asked politely.
"Raven," She answered, shaking his hand.
"You must be quite something if you caught Maynard's affections," Akio said lightly.
"Thanks," Raven replied, taking Akio's statement as a compliment.
"Yeah," Maynard interrupted. "This is Roan." He gestured to the long-haired guy. "Charles, but I call 'im Chuck." He pointed at the scuffy man. "Dieter." The tall guy with the shaved head. "And Elena." He pointed to the young Hispanic woman.
Introductions went around with Indra refusing to shake hands with any of the Furlan. It didn't seem very friendly of her, but then again, the grounders didn't exactly get along with the Furlan. Just yesterday though, the grounders didn't get along with the sky people, and now they were at least able to keep from killing each other.
"Now let's just all agree to be friends at least for now," Maynard said placatingly.
He paused for a moment to look directly at Indra and Roan.
"We all want the same thing," Maynard continued. "Until then, do yer best not to kill each other okay?"
There we go. Plot changes dramatically again. Roan is introduced to the others way earlier than in the show. Also, Octavia kicked some ass. I was really looking forward to writing that scene in particular ever since she started training under Maynard.
In other news, I've been thinking about plot divergence down the road, and I've come to a few conclusions, though some of them I'm still hesitant about. Please feel free to send me your ideas. I love hearing from you guys. You help me a lot.
Thanks for reading ya'll.