Poison Fog

[amber4]

TRY NOT TO RUN FROM THIS FREEDOM ALWAYS HAS A PRICE TO PAY tagged: Bellamy Blake

There was no warning as the fog rolled in, but Niylah had learned the signs. The birds would screech in the distance and that meant she had a minute to go out to the stables and lock them down before coming back inside and shutting all the windows and doors tightly enough so that no poison gasses leaked through the cracks. It was easier when she wasn’t alone, but her mother still had not come back from her trip to a nearby village. She was tense as she stuffed cloth into every crack in the windows and shut every door. Her little trading post would stand against the fog just as it always had, but just in case she had her blanket ready to hide underneath until the screeching stopped... Sometimes it lasted minutes, other times it lasted hours... especially when a scout got too close to the mountain.

She quickly moved to her room and pulled her cloth sheet over her head; hiding beneath it like a child—just as she always had, but this time the front door opened. “Hod op!!” she yelled from the room as she shoved herself up. She could hear the fog in the trees—she pulled herself from her room so that she could close the door and latch it, but as she rounded the corner she froze in place with wide eyes. The man was holding a gun. A mountain man’s weapon, and his clothes were... not of her kind. Her face paled as she grabbed a nearby axe to defend herself—but she couldn’t help noticing the acid burns from the fog. “Yu laik nu mounin hir,” she growled threateningly—even as the fog blew against her home. She was stuck in the pen with a wolf—and didn’t know whether to help or... to kill the damn thing.

OWL

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: amber4

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Damn acid fog! Bellamy had given his pack to the other delinquents he was with, so didn't have the protective sheet that he always made a point to carry. At least they did. That was one less thing he had to worry about. Now, it was just a matter of worrying about how he was going to find a place to wait out the fog. He was practically in a race against it, though he knew it was not one he could win. He had already felt the stings of it touching his skin, burning it but he had to keep running. Like hell if he was going to let acid fog be the thing that killed him. He couldn't find anything though. Not a bunker.

Not a cave. Nothing. Luck had never been something that graced them . . . yet in all the times it failed to do so, it seemed to seriously compensate for it now. Because Bellamy saw a small building. It almost looked like a house, a hut or something. It obviously belonged to a grounder, but right now, he didn't care. He just needed to get out of the acid fog's way. Cringing as he felt the smoke start to rip his skin again, he raced toward what would be his shelter until the fog was gone. Storming inside, his weapon was raised, aimed at the space ahead of him as he kicked shut the door with his foot, without turning his back on his surroundings.

He cautiously surveyed the area, taking slow steps, when a voice broke the silence. His gun was immediately aimed at the direction of it, as there appeared to be another room. Soon enough, a figure emerged, holding a weapon as she eyed him, spouting out something in the foreign language of the Grounders. Bellamy had no idea what the hell she was saying, but he knew for damn sure it wasn't anything good. "Drop the ax," he told her, his finger on the trigger. He didn't want to kill her of course but . . . nor was he going to give her a chance to swing that thing at him. "Now." Son of a bitch, did she even understand him?! If nothing else, she would sure as hell understand his gun. That, would count for something.

[amber4]

TRY NOT TO RUN FROM THIS FREEDOM ALWAYS HAS A PRICE TO PAY tagged: Bellamy Blake

His words… She understood axe, but the rest was lost and she didn’t know what to do. His finger was on the trigger; he was ready to shoot her and if she didn’t do something quick he probably would. Niylah wasn’t going to die here. Not like this… The worst part was she didn’t want a war between the two clans to begin with, but he didn’t seem like he shared the sentiment. Slowly, she took a step back and carefully set the axe on the floor, assuming it was what he wanted. She needed his guard down, but judging by his expression and the way he held the mountain man weapon, he wasn’t going to simply back down. They kidnapped one of the warriors from the Trikru village and tortured him before he escaped. What would he do to her? Her eyes were wide and feral, but she played along for a moment.

She saw his finger as it tensed and for a moment she thought he would execute her… Unarmed and vulnerable—but every one of her clan knew how to fight, and she had more than an axe to fight with. As fast as her arm could move, she had a dagger in her hand. It was laced with a potent poison and small enough that she could maneuver it with ease. He wasn’t far. The small space didn’t allow it. In the same second that she had it in her hand she threw it—hard and true as she aimed for his chest. Whether or not she hit her mark, she wasn’t sure because she had already rolled behind the counter for cover where she was quickly trying to find another weapon as she listened for him.

OWL

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: amber4

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy watched her with intent caution as she lowered the ax. He didn't know if it was because she actually understood his words, or if it was due to any common sense that she had able to deduce what he was demanding of her. Either way, at least she complied. Bellamy didn't want to have to shoot her. Killing her now would be an execution. He wasn't about that. He felt a moment of relief, but that was just exactly how long it lasted; a single moment. For he soon felt something pierce his chest, leaving him frozen and winded as he staggered, his back hitting the shut door. He looked down at his chest, the dagger protruding from it. Somewhere in his mind he knew the possibility of this being laced with poison, just like Finn's wound had been.

But right now, it was the numbness that he felt. Before his body exploded with pain. The gun was lowered, casually strapped around his shoulder as he focused on trying to breathe. He closed his eyes, his hand going to the hilt of the dagger. Taking a deep breath, he yanked it out of his chest, causing him to cringe and let out a small sound of pain as he gripped the dagger that was now free from his chest. Which in turn caused the blood to ooze out. He didn't care if it put him at more medical risk. He wasn't going to spend the time with a dagger sticking out of his chest.

He nearly fell to his knees, the dagger limply following from his grasp. His breathing was strained, as he stumbled to the side, using the counter to keep himself braced up as he leaned against it for support. He took a few steps behind it, on the opposite side of where she was, rummaging through whatever was there and uncaring of what he knocked over. He only stopped when it found a bit of fabric, pressing it against his chest to put something on it to apply pressure and help control the bleeding. It wouldn't do a lot in the long run, but right now . . . it was all he had.

[amber4]

TRY NOT TO RUN FROM THIS FREEDOM ALWAYS HAS A PRICE TO PAY tagged: Bellamy Blake

The cry of pain was enough to make Niylah cringe with guilt. She was prepared for gunfire, but he didn’t make any move to attack her. When she heard the blade drop, she knew that he was done for. A reasonable woman would have stayed hidden behind the counter and let him bleed out, but Niylah was no murderer. The fact that he didn’t fight back was the reason she found herself rummaging for a cure and bandages instead of a weapon. He still had the gun, which she could see in a mirror on the ceiling—but he wasn’t holding it. If she wasn’t so terrified to touch it she would have made it her priority to move it. Slowly, with the bandages in her hand she moved out from behind the counter. She was shaking softly, but it was to be expected...

She kept her hands up; a vial in one with the cloth in the other. She didn’t know much of the enemy’s tongue but she tried. “You help—“ she said slowly, not sure how to say what she was thinking... “Sis—“ she moved to her knees and slid closer to him, holding out the vial for him to take. “Fis yu op—“ She made a movement as though she were drinking the cure before offering it to him again. He was still more than an arms reach away... but that was because she wasn’t sure if he would pull out the gun. “This one—is..moba.” she didn’t know how to apologize in words he could understand...

OWL

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: amber4

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy was trying to remain attentive to what she was doing as well, but he was starting to feel dizzy. From the blood loss no doubt. And yet, he would continue to fight to remain conscious. Damn Grounders. Pressing the cloth against him, he tried to quick think about what could be done. He didn't have the medical expertise to patch himself up. And with the poison fog out there he would die from that before he bled out. He was stuck in here. Stuck with her. She then held out a small vial and another cloth. He looked at it, before his gaze went to her face. Help? She wanted to help him?

He didn't believe that for a second. Her next words he didn't understand. She moved closer to him, and he would have kept the distance between them if he wasn't too damn impaired to move right now. If it didn't hurt so much to move. Besides, any exertion of his body would just make him bleed out faster. He just watched her as she made a gesture of drinking the bottle before offering it to him. What, was it more poison to finish him off quickly? Moba. What the hell was she saying?! But then, did it really matter? Actions could speak louder than words and she had stabbed him. "Get the hell away from me," he lashed out, shoving her hand away from him as he staggered back a bit more. The action made him cringed as he leaned against the wall, sliding to the floor but remaining seated in an upright position.

He closed his eyes, only to try and steady his breathing which felt more and more strained with each passing moment. He felt small tears of sweat form on his forehead, dampening his hair. Forcing his eyes open, they felt heavy, but he didn't want to take his eyes off the enemy . . . not that he could do anything to defend himself at this point. But like hell if he would go fully down without a fight. He took a deep breath and attempted to remove his jacket, needing to take off the heavy layer, but the action caused him to bite back a sound of pain. Still, in one swift and horribly painful gesture, he managed to take it off, intentionally hitting the back of his head against the wall as an outlet for expressing the pain. Better that than her hearing him yell out in it.

[amber4]

TRY NOT TO RUN FROM THIS FREEDOM ALWAYS HAS A PRICE TO PAY tagged: Bellamy Blake

She backed away, slowly, but kept her eyes on him. He was drifting, whether from internal injury or the bleeding. The poison took some time to act, but the moment his eyes closed she moved in again. Her hands were shaking as she pulled the strap of his gun over his head. They couldn’t touch these weapons. The mountain would kill them all, and having one so close made her nervous. She pushed it away with her foot, surprised at how heavy it was before she took his jaw in her hand. She shook it just a little to stir him—to make him look as she took a small drink from the vial. “Help.” She said again, slowly this time. She pressed the small bottle against his lips with worried eyes, not wanting him to die... She couldn’t kill a person—no matter who they were with. At least, that’s what she thought. She had never been in danger.

With her free hand, she had the bandage pressed against the wound where it was soaking up blood quickly. “Moba—moba,” she mumbled again, eyes as apologetic as her tone. She needed him to take the cure. Now... she wasn’t sure how long the poison would take to set in but she knew he needed to take it now for a better chance. She was terrified he would lash out again but she was doing her best to be clear that she was helping him.

OWL

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: amber4

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Despite the weight of the gun that was too much for him to hold, he felt all the more unsettled when she kicked it away. As if his only weapon, his only hope of defense was gone. Which, was a futile thought considering he was currently dying from a stab wound and poison. Still. Guns gave him that necessary security. He jerked away from the woman, though didn't have very far to go with his back against the wall and his entire body unable to move. He tried to turn his head away but he was weak, and her grasp as firm. Help she said. "What now you wanna help me?" He shot back with bitter sarcasm, unsure why she would even bother. He didn't get it. He didn't understand these people. And right now, he wasn't even sure she understood him.

The language barrier just further frustrated him. He didn't part his lips when she held the bottle up, as stubborn as he was known for being. He even tried to glare at her, but the expression was weak due to his increasingly weakening condition. It didn't seem like he had much of a choice here. It was either risk drinking that thing and potentially die faster . . . or find some shred of truth in her words and let it save him. Was it another poison, or was it a remedy. Was he even in the right position to deny it? He looked at her, the glare drifting away, as he tried to understand her tone, because he sure as hell didn't understand her words. Moba or whatever she was saying. There was something in the way she had said it though, gaze in her eyes when she said it.

That it took him a few additional moments to realize that he had parted his lips, allowing the content of the vial to pass through into his mouth as he swallowed the awful tasting beverage. He managed to get it in his system before coughing, the pressure on the wound reminding him of that particular pain. He turned his head away to avoid coughing in her face, hoping no blood would come out as to indicate severe internal or organ damage. So far, he seemed to be in the clear. Regaining his composure, he turned to look at her once again. That crap could kill him . . . or save him. And the suspense of waiting to discover which one, was difficult to endure. "Why?" He asked. Why was she now seeming to tend to the wound. Why did she say the word help and possibly give him an antidote after stabbing him. He didn't understand. He wasn't sure if she could even explain it given the difference of language . . . but he asked, none the less.

[amber4]

TRY NOT TO RUN FROM THIS FREEDOM ALWAYS HAS A PRICE TO PAY tagged: Bellamy Blake

“Ai's trana sis au...” she muttered under her breath. I’m trying to help. She knew he wouldn’t understand her but he seemed to calm down. She understood his question. Why. But how did she explain to him why she was helping him after attacking him. She pointed at the gun and held her hands as though she were holding it. Then she pointed the invisible gun at him. She was scared he would have shot her if she didn’t take him out first... but then he didn’t pull the trigger. He didn’t kill her, or even try to—even though he could have. He would have died soon thereafter but that wasn’t really the point. “Biyo moba...” another apology. In a language he didn’t understand... She grabbed the cloth bandages and handed them to him with shaking hands.

She kept one herself and pressed it against her own body, where he’d been hit; showing him what to do with it while keeping a safe distance. “Ai... no hurt you.” Well she had. But she wasn’t sure how to say she wouldn’t hurt him again in his language. Instead she crossed her legs and watched him intently as the winds howled violently. He had two choices. Do what she wanted, or kill her then die. She hoped that he was smart enough to trust her—and maybe to understand why she’d done what she had. The gun was the most devastating weapon she had ever seen. Even having one so close was a threat. Touching it made her cringe with fear...

OWL

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: amber4

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She was speaking gibberish again. Well, he supposed not gibberish. It was her language. But he didn't understand a word of it. Fortunately, she used non verbal forms of communication to express what she was trying to say, pointing to the gun and then pretending to hold one. He understood why she had attacked him. She was threatened. He knew there was no use in saying that he wouldn't have shot her unless she attacked him first. There was too much distrust between their people to act like the other could be safe in their company.

But right now . . . he didn't have a choice. He was still bracing himself for that drink to be what ended him, and the suspense was driving him insane. She said something before taking the cloth bandage and passing it to him. He eyed it, noticing the way her hand trembled. Hesitantly, he reached out to take it, mimicking her actions as he held it against him, the strain of the gesture causing his breathing to grow heavier for a few moments before he properly adjusted and managed to calm his breath. Finally, amidst her foreign talking . . . he understood a few words. No hurt you. He turned his head to look at her. "It's a bit late for that." There wasn't bitterness in his tone, though his words were blunt . . . dare he say a slight hint of of jest in them, though it was far from jovial.

He glanced down at the bandage he was pressing against it, leaning his head against whatever surface he was propped up against. Closing his eyes he took another deep breath before looking at her, knowing it would be stupid to take his eyes off of her. Then again . . . she could easily kill him in far more easy ways. He was so damn vulnerable right now and he hated it. "You're not all warriors, are you?" He asked curiously, though also wasn't sure if she could actually understand his question. This was the most he had interacted with one of the Grounders and . . . well, she was evidently different from the others. She didn't strike him to kill him, her willingness to tend to him afterwards a clear sign of that. Could it be true that not all of them were menacing killers?

[amber4]

TRY NOT TO RUN FROM THIS FREEDOM ALWAYS HAS A PRICE TO PAY tagged: Bellamy Blake

He had no reason to trust her; no reason to listen and no reason to do what she said without just shooting her right there. She could still hear the fog tearing through the woods like a vicious storm, which grounded them. She just had to survive until it stopped and then.... then he could go. She made sure he wouldn’t stay poisoned... but his question caught her off guard. Not and Soldier snatched her attention, and in response she shook her head. Slowly and cautiously she stood up behind the counter and gestured at the items that hung from the walls and the piles of supplies littered around the shack. She wasn’t a warrior; she was a trader. However when times of war came, everyone had to fight. No matter their training.

“Kof—“ she stopped herself, knowing he wouldn’t understand. With a small sigh she picked the axe up off the ground and hung it with the others, not worried that he could easily grab it if he wanted to. He didn’t sound as angry as he could have. He didn’t seem to genuinely want to hurt her. Instead she decided to focus on the burns he’d received from the fog. Quickly, she rifled through some metal jars of ointments healers made for her to sell. It wouldn’t fix it but it would help ease the pain... The pain from where she had thrown the knife would be bad, but the fog burns were worse if they were left to fester.

Carefully, with one had raised so that he could see them both she walked towards him and leaned in to give him the dented jar. “Yun fleim,” she murmured gently as she gestured towards the burns. Her hand lingered in the air between them for a long moment before she hesitantly let it fall, not wanting to scare him or push her own luck.

OWL