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Post by amber4 on Mar 1, 2016 1:38:06 GMT
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Niylah’s post was not far from the mountain, so she had heard the explosions when they happened. It had been hours ago, the shop was locked down until they could figure out exactly what had occurred... Her father was still in Polis, so Niylah was stuck trying to get word from those who passed by... It was then that an Azgeda man, covered in scars and tattoos came to the door. “Ste lufa yo nontu au,” he said gruffly. He was pulling a woman with her—a bag over her head and blood staining her clothing. She was in Skaikru clothes, so even though the man spoke in their tongue, Niylah chose not to.
“My father isn’t here, you can deal with me.” She said sternly as she stepped aside to let him in. Her gaze moved over the woman, trying to see where the blood was coming from... but it seemed to be everywhere. “What are you doing with her?” she asked harshly as she armed herself subtly with a dagger by the door. She walked behind them.
“Your father and I make our dealings. I want the usual supplies—she’s more than suitable as a slave. She is skaikru.” His voice was accented heavily, but he seemed to follow her example. Niylah pulled the bag off the womans head and shot her a sympathetic glance.
“More that suitable? You’re bringing me a broken woman just when the commander has solidified our truce. Look at her. She’ll be dead in days.” She set the bag aside and watched the man for an opportunity. Slaves were of course a growing issue—members of opposing clans would be captured and used for labor or worse. She once met a pleasure woman in Polis... It was disgusting and she wouldn’t let this girl suffer the same fate as her father may have.
“Then I reduce the price. Take her off my hands and give me enough supplies to get me to—“ he didn’t have time to finish his sentence before Niylah struck; slicing the blade across the man’s neck with sharp precision and wide eyes. She was no fighter—and as blood poured down his neck he tried to approach, but she shoved him back where he fell. Quickly, she pulled the girl aside in case he decided to go for her again... but he died fast, leaving her with this bashed up Skaikru girl—she didn’t know what to do. “What is your name?” she asked after a moment of silence.
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Post by Gena Martin on Mar 4, 2016 1:58:10 GMT
Gena had all but forgotten about the other exit of the mountain, but she was rudely reminded as she was dragged out of there, bleeding from the wound the Grounder had inflicted. The second one dragged her away just as the mountain blew up. Gena cried out. People were in there!! Her friends! She tried to get away, but the Grounder held her tightly. He held her until he had her hands safely enough to tie them. Eventually he placed a bag over her head. Gena lost track of time. She couldn’t understand his weird language, nor did she want to, because it sounded aggressive and mean. And given the Grounders track record, she didn’t think he was up to any good. As he dragged Gena along, she was bleeding. By this rate she didn’t think she’d survive this, but did she want to? There were so many people in the mountain. And Bellamy ran to a trap as well, what if he was dead already, too?
They came to a place. Gena only knew it was a place by the difference in sound. She heard a woman talk, in English. Who was this? Her question was answered as she pulled the bag from her head. Her smile was nice, but given the context of what the Grounder said in her language next, him calling her a suitable slave, she couldn’t trust that smile just like that. What if the woman just smiled at a potential new possession? Gena couldn’t help a whimper. She was far from a fighter. She didn’t know if she could deal with this or how and she was scared. The bartender barely managed to hold back tears of fear at their conversation. Dead within days. Apparently she was just a bargain to them, of no worth as she was injured. And so her friends were of no worth, wasn’t it like that?
Gena was still fighting tears as she watched in half surprise and half horror as the girl cut the guys throat. What was going on? She managed a surprised gasp. The woman pulled her away from the still struggling man as if to protect her. Was that it? Did she want to … not buy her? Did she want to protect her? Was this one of those kind grounders? She didn’t have much of a choice as she was injured and tied up. “Gena… my name is Gena. What is this place?”
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Post by amber4 on Mar 4, 2016 19:08:08 GMT
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“Gena,” Niylah repeated as she knelt down so she could assess the damage. Her eyes were narrowed with focus, trying to find where the blood was coming from. “—Gena I’m going to help you, but you have to do everything that I say, alright?” if her father came home to an injured sky person she knew that he would kill her, or sell her off to somebody. She loved her father, truly, but losing his wife destroyed him and Niylah wouldn’t let this girl suffer because of it. Carefully she guided Gena to her bed where she sat her down to look over the cuts on her arms and legs. She’d been tortured... that was the only way she could describe the marks. Burned as well. Niylah drew a long breath before grabbing some bandages and a bowl of water.
“I need you to practice something, okay?” she was kneeling, cutting fabric away so that she could get to the deep gashes on her legs. She suspected that her ankle was broken as well. “Kom Trikru—“ she looked up at her, voice low. “Ai laik Gena kom Trikru; it means, I am Gena of the tree people.” She wiped some of the blood away from her calve to look at the deep cut. It wasn’t fatal—on to the next one. “My father can’t know that you are Skaikru—he will kill you, but if you leave you won’t get far. If you want to live, you need to practice that sentence exactly how I say it.” She would fix the woman’s hair and get her into some clothes... “Ai laik Gena kom Trikru,” she said again, slower. There was nothing that she could do but this; disguise her and give her a place to rest.
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Post by Gena Martin on Mar 11, 2016 1:57:40 GMT
Gena was shaking like a leaf as the woman sat her down. She looked at her wounds, cut her clothing away. She was trying to take care of her and apparently prepared to do so for a bit. Gena was impressed, but she had to disappoint her: “I can’t say that.” Gena protested. There was no way she could say that, not now. Her explanation was solid. She needed to say this for her father, but how was he going to believe that? Gena was no Trikru. They would hear it. There was no way she could fake it, even just by her name. It would probably not sound like a trikru name. It wouldn’t work. A lot hasn’t worked before and while she was grateful for the help, it was too risky, wasn’t it? “I can’t say kom Trikru. My Trigedasleng barely exists. I can say Mochof and well my name.” But that was it, sadly. She never had the time or necessity to learn it, which was the problem in it.
“Isn’t there any clan or … something that could make me get away with not talking?” Not talking was the way she could get away with it. She didn’t want her savior to get into trouble and she was already doing so much. She was saving her life, Gena was so sure she was saving her life. “They…” She didn’t want to speak of it, but she guessed the girl deserved the truth of everything. “They blew up the Mountain. Everyone is gone. They blew up Mount Weather and… took me, while my people are in … what is your capital called again? They’re there, trying to stop a coup.” What if something happened in Polis, too? She didn’t want to imagine this. “Thank you.”
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Post by amber4 on Mar 11, 2016 19:08:41 GMT
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“I understand that you’re afraid, Gena—“ Niylah said slowly in a firm voice. “But you have to do as I say or you’re going to get yourself killed. You can say Trikru—my father is not one for conversation and you are weak. He will not question you further and if he does then I will stop him.” Her frown was deep as she washed away blood from her arms, but it seemed as though she had been stabbed by the assassin, potentially a number of times. She wasn’t surprised that the mountain was attacked. Azgeda was probably trying to put a wedge in the forming alliance. She believed in the alliance and the cease fire... but her father did not. There were many who did not, which made Gena very unsafe here. “Jana is a Trikru name,” she said slowly. It was close to Gena...
“I... Ice nation is trying to sabotage the truce... Polis is where your friends are. It is a day ride from here. I can have somebody send word for them, but it’s hard to find people you can trust in these situations.” Slowly she let out a sigh and grabbed more bandages and pulled the covers back so Gena could lay down. “You need to learn to say it—“ she brought her back to the original discussion as she looked for wounds. The blood coming from her stomach was pretty terrifying and gruesome, so Niylah started there; wiping the blood away and pressing bandages against the wounds. “I lay ick” – Ai laik, “Jana kom tree crew.” As she worked, she looked up at Gena’s eyes. “Say it.”
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Post by Gena Martin on Mar 18, 2016 21:24:27 GMT
“I already know how to say it.” Gena pointed out. She had learned those basic words already. She didn’t know much, but that was enough. She knew some other basic words, too. It helped to be around those, who knew it a bit better than she did. She picked up on those things, sometimes from Bellamys sister, sometimes from Bellamy, sometimes from any source of kids learning in the language in the hangar where she worked most of the time. Her days were long enough to overhear several lessons. It was all about getting across to the people, that they would be okay to hand around for the time being.
“Ai laik Jana kom Trikru. Ai nou na bash you op.“ She added, declaring she meant no harm to Niylah and then in term Niylahs father, hoping that would get the message across, that she did know those things already. It was easier that way. And she could always keep quiet, pretend she had seen too much or be too weak to speak. She feared she would actually be that for quite some time. She just wanted to go home, really, to see Bellamy, make sure he was safe from the plot that she had fallen victim to, too. “I know a bit of Trigedasleng. A man lives in Arkadia, he’s originally Trikru. He taught some of our people.” And from there they taught each other. “Did he do a lot of damage?”
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Post by amber4 on Mar 19, 2016 22:17:16 GMT
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Niylah was proud of the Skaikru girl’s abilities. She was well spoken and it would be enough to keep her father off her case. Especially after Niylah got her dressed and her curls under control. “Good, that’s very good.” She said lightly as she looked over the wounds with a deep frown. She didn’t know what happened. Burns, cuts, bruising so deliberate they had to be inflicted by the Azgeda assassin. Truth be told there were so many injuries that Niylah didn’t know where to start. She was so overwhelmed and she was no healer. She knew how to clean and dress a wound but there was so much blood already seeping into the furs on which she sat. “It’s... bad,” she said quietly before standing up and pulling the thin sheet of cotton that separated her space from the post.
“I am not a healer,” she said in a low voice as she gathered some herbs together and more bandages. The hot water that rested on the wood burning stove was warm enough now that it would clean most of the dirt away. “I’m sorry... I know it’s probably not what you want, but can I please undress you so I can see the rest of your injuries? I have to know what I can fix.” Her frown was so deep her head ached as she looked over the bruising. “What did he do to you?”
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Post by Gena Martin on Mar 31, 2016 20:11:10 GMT
Gena whimpered softly. It hurt, but she was grateful, so she tried to avoid to make any noises. But there was so much pain and unlike others, she didn’t have a big pain tolerance, on the contrary. She believed that her staying awake and that earlier was supported entirely on adrenaline, but since she could slow down since encountering this girl, Gena felt a bit more at peace and that was perhaps the problem. That was why she felt more pain now, maybe. And fear, so much fear, but not from her. She seemed trustworthy, but fear about Bellamy, about her friends, and fear of what this man did to her.
“Of course.” Gena answered. “I… I think I trust you.” Given what they all had been through it was a risk to trust a grounder, but there were gems in there – no pun intended. Lincoln was one of them. She respected him greatly, maybe she was another one. “He attacked the mountain. I was where the self destruct mechanism was. He attacked me from behind and stabbed me. We barely made it out of the mountain before it exploded. Everyone else is dead. Everyone of the Arkadia in the mountain is dead. And apparently there’s another assassin in Polis.”
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Post by amber4 on Apr 2, 2016 17:42:43 GMT
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When she was given permission, Niylah shifted Gena so that she could rest against the folded furs she used as pillows to try to make her more comfortable. Peeling off her shirt was a tricky task. So much blood had soaked into the fabric and stuck against her skin and her injuries. By pulling off the second skin, she made more wounds bleed. Truthfully, the slow pace of the bleeding worried Niylah. It meant she'd lost a lot of blood already, and if she succumbed to the cold there would be nothing more she could do for the woman. Quickly though, Niylah pressed bandages against the open wounds and riffled through the healing herbs that they had. There had to be something to help... "Polis? They won't get very far," Niylah said lightly. The way Gena spoke of the assassin made Niylah wonder if there were people she cared about in the capital.
"Our capital is heavily guarded, especially around our Heda... If an assassin tries to attack Polis, they will die quickly." Niylah pressed red weeds against the deeper wounds and was quick to hold them in place with linen. She didn't trust herself to cauterize the wounds without help. If she were to do it, she would have to find a way to put Gena to sleep first. The screams would hinder Niylah's ability to work... "You're lucky to be alive, Gena kom Skaikru.... I can't think of anyone who could have made it this far in such abusive company..." She wondered why they were in the mountain... the place was stained with the blood of all their friends and ancestors. Why on earth would they be in a place like that?
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Post by Gena Martin on Apr 3, 2016 9:54:23 GMT
Gena whimpered softly. It hurt, but how could it not. She was not used to pain the way others were. Her eyes welled up with tears, some streaming down her cheeks as she let Niylah do what she did. She didn’t know how long it would take, but she was otherwise doomed, so she let her go on without complaint aside from the whimpers, that she really could not hold back. Some of them were directed at what she told her about Polis. If they were doomed in Polis, she’d never see him again. But maybe this Clarke could stop it. She would protect Bellamy, right? She left him, but she would protect him from death. At least she hoped she would. She had to. There was no other way. “My friends...” She began, strained. “They’re going to Polis. We’ve been warned of an assassin going there for Lexas summit….” So she guessed she would never see them again. But at least she lived to tell the tale of Azgedas behavior. If anything she could try and expain.
“I know.” She whispered. This damn mountain was a curse, to all of them. “I’m just glad we got the wounded out.” But she guessed that was either part of why they attacked now or the Ice Nation just considered the potential deaths of those people, their people, as collateral damage and as such as something they could deal with. All the medicine was lost now. She really didn’t understand anymore how hostile they constantly were – and in contrast to this how nice and gentle Niylah was. It was confusing. But she couldn’t voice that, she knew she was nowhere near calm enough to voice something like that.
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Post by amber4 on Apr 21, 2016 0:05:09 GMT
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Her friends were going to Polis. This wasn't a problem, but if they were going there armed and ready to fight then she knew it would end badly. She didn't dare mention that to Gena in her current state though... Bringing weapons into the capital was expressly forbidden and wouldn't go unpunished. At least, that was as long as the commander was in an understanding mood. Instead, Niylah focused on healing Gena. She tuned out the whimpers and tried to use the weeds as Clarke had directed, but since she was no healer this was difficult. "Your friends will be safe," she said as she rested the damp bloodied linen aside. She was lying. Niylah didn't know if they would be, in fact she was almost positive they wouldn't be safe at all. "Don't worry about them now... We'll get you in travelling condition, and I'll take you back to Arkadia when you're able." She looked over the injuries with insecurity in her eyes, not sure how to proceed.
Instead of continuing with unknown medical treatment she took a bottle of stiff alcohol and offered it to her to drink. After she let the bottle go she moved on to her face. Slowly she pushed her hair back and held it in place with a thick cotton band so she could clean the cuts and scrapes. "I'm not a healer," she said quietly. "I don't know a lot about this kind of stuff-- and I think... Well the only person I know who knows about it isn't easy to find." Wanheda could be anywhere, but rumors said she was in Polis. She swallowed hard and pulled her own hair back with a thread. "I could find a healer, but I'd have to leave you here and I don't know when my father is returning..."
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Post by Gena Martin on Nov 22, 2016 17:04:29 GMT
They would be save? At least that seems to be a given. But what if that wasn’t the case at all? Grounders of the capital never seemed trustworthy. They just brought down mount weather during a ceasefire. That alone was despicable in itself. How could she trust them? This girl was potentially a rare difference. But Polis? The Capital, that was where the political problems arose. She just hoped her friends would come home in once piece. Their people needed them and she didn’t think she could bear the loss of them, too. Gena shook her head.
“I don’t need to be cured.” Not here. It didn’t matter if she was a healer or not. All she needed was to survive and become stable. Once she was stable, she could go to Arkadia. They could fix her. Or they could signal to them. Let them know she was here. They had vehicles, a form of transport. “You could… send a message to Arkadia?” She suggested. “They would come and get me. They have ways of transport that would… I could be helped much earlier.” And she would be out of their hair. “You should let them know what you did for me – and them. They will appreciate it.”
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Post by amber4 on Jul 11, 2018 18:36:37 GMT
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Niylah stared at the curly haired sky girl for another moment before shaking her head. No. She turned to collect the rest of the medical supplies they had, as well as some herbs to help with the pain. She wasn’t about to expose her post to Skaikru no matter how she felt about it... The idea of them being grateful was not a good one. They would come in their mechanical mounts and her father would attack. No. Or worse, the inexperienced sky people would sack her place. She trusted the beaten girl. Niylah had no real reason not to, but she wasn’t about to expose her home to unknowns. “I am sorry.” She murmured as she set down a small pot. She tore up some dried yellow and red flowers to make a tea of sorts. It would help keep her calm and let her rest; let her body heal.
“When you are fit to travel I will bring you to Arkadia myself. For now, we’ll have to do with what we have.” What she had was an arsenal of medicinal herbs and a very limited idea of how to use them. She understood the fun ones. She’d learned all about them growing up. They did have some actual purpose though.
Niylah stirred the tea mixture before filling it with water and setting it down on the stove. “You can tell your people what happened if you wish, but you survived a bombing caused by “grounders” then you were nearly sold to me—well no, to my father. Had he been here and not me, you may have already been bought and sent off to Azgeda...” Niylah’s brow furrowed as she shook her head. “Your people will not care about kindnesses you were afforded during the terror our people put you through. I don’t want them to know we are here, either.”
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