What's In It For Us?

[John Murphy]

Help run things. It was an appealing notion, along with the speech that pushed it. They had been dropped down here with little chance of survival, leaving as prisoners and finding freedom as they'd landed. Most of them weren't eager to give that up. For the majority, they'd never be one of the privileged and no doubt locked up again, or at least put to work serving those higher up should the Ark follow them down here. With these bracelets monitoring their every breath it was as though they were still under the Ark's control. Take them off, the older guy had said. And then what? Follow him? 

It was better than the alternative. He appeared confident enough in his chances to lead the delinquents and it didn't look as though anybody was readily stepping up to snatch the crown away from him. While Mbege had eventually suggested it may be a good idea Murphy still wasn't convinced, not entirely. Although he had to admit it was looking to be the best option for someone like him. 

Bellamy Blake had approached a few others as far as Murphy had seen, rallying for votes of confidence in his soon to be established leadership, and they too seemed in favor of the idea. Here was a guy preaching freedom to do what they wanted without anyone coming down to herd them back into a cell. It was an attractive concept to get behind. Now Murphy slowed as he passed by another delinquent he'd seen their hopeful leader pick out, likely for similar recruitment . "Find any water, Ariel?"

Tag: Jacques Roux

[Jacques Roux]

Swallow your pride down.

Suck my cockiness. Lick my persuasion. Eat my poison.

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Jacques, just stay, that's what he had said. Replaying the thoughts over in his mind only caused a growing smirk to paint itself across his dimpled features. Yeah, that's what they all say. Already leaving the tent of another delinquent, and it'd only been very limited time since their arrival. It was unclear as to whether Jacques hooked up because he thoroughly felt any sense of attachment or true sense of aroused desire, or if it was just for the stroking of the lion's ego. Probably a mix of both. Still wearing that same grin painted with victorious conquest, he was already passing a playful wink toward a small group of girls glancing in his direction and whispering fiercely. Whether they were talking shit or expressing envy, he didn't really care -- so long as they were talking about him. 

Still half-dressed, the boy stood idle for a moment pulling the rest of his shirt back down overhead and zipping up the front of his trousers. There was little shame in his escapades, they'd all been doing it. He bent at the waist for a moment, plucking up a long stranded weed and popping its stem into his mouth to roll between his teeth. With a palm lifting to run slender digits through hazelnut locks, he continued along his trek. Not that he was really sure where he was headed, but that was the joy of it. As Bellamy had put it: "Whatever the hell they want!" And that sounded like a good enough reason for him to elect someone to power. Besides, all that title was far too much bullshit for him to want to deal with anyway. Hard to live risky, adventurous and for an insatiable crave of excitement if you had a fuckton of people to be responsible for. And those were three things that Jacques Roux had an abundance of.

He had a definite swagger to his step, not that he had any malformed limp or oddity to his gait, just one that reeked of egoism and a general 'I give zero fucks' attitude. And because of that attitude, he openly greeted the teasing slur that was thrown at him not moments after he'd just got done kinking it out. Ariel, huh?

Jacques rolled his eyes, not moving to really stop his stretch of step, instead calling out in reply before he'd even come to pass the familiar Arker. He was oddly familiar, not that he could exactly put his finger on the guy's life story, but he knew him vaguely enough -- especially since their arrival on the Ground and Bellamy's rise in conquest. He silently scoffed at the guy's attempt to underhand him with playful banter. "I don't know. Why, Murphy?" He cocked a brow before holding out an open palm toward him as though to further direct his next remark to its bulls eye of a target. "You thirsty?" He narrowed his eyes while forcing a snarky, sarcastic grin in the direction of his colleague. "I'll be sure to let you know when I find some, buttercup." He paused for a moment, reaching out to gently pat Murphy twice on the cheek. "You look a little parched after staring so long." It was clear he was referring to Murphy staring at him, even if he hadn't been.

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TAG: John Murphy WORDS: 552
NOTES: Yeah, he meant that 'thirsty' in the way it was implied. Thirsty for some Jacques.

[John Murphy]

Any more swagger and the other would be falling over. It seemed a fair few of the delinquents were already enjoying their newfound freedom and every benefit it offered. Some more than others. It wasn't an unheard of occurrence in the sky box, far from it. But down here with everyone whipped up in the excitement of no adults and no rules, they were taking full advantage of having free run of the camp and beyond... and each other. Who could blame them? 

Thirsty? Well, he was. Funnily enough. The redolent remark coaxed a faint grin, lingering even as the touch to his cheek momentarily curled it into one a fraction less impressed. The other delinquent hadn't gone by unnoticed in the sky box, for several reasons. Not least, for his tongue. It was amusing for the most part, but more so he was known for the crime that had landed him in there. It wasn't every day an Arker was sentenced for swimming. Even if that hadn't been the official charge, it was the essence of it and a story that did the rounds in lockup. They'd perhaps spoken once or twice but memory of that discourse was long gone. More in focus were the recollections of what people suggested had been found in cups of water following the infamous event. A hair. An eyelash. A testicle?! Ridiculous.

"Just try to resist taking a dip in it when you do... okay, Flipper? Not everyone's into your tang." Plenty were though, evidently as Murphy's gaze drifted to a few delinquents passing by sharing whispers and a somewhat barbed look Jacques' way. Fans or not. Who knew? Murphy stepped past with a light nudge of his shoulder to Jacques', turning as he did so and moving in to stand close beside. Murphy could see why their prospective leader might approach this guy; he had some sway in with that swagger. People appeared to want his attention even if it was merely to show their contempt. A swipe at the protruding weed snatched it from the other's mouth and Murphy used it to point over in Bellamy's direction. "He give you his motivational anti-Ark speech yet?"

Tag: Jacques Roux

[Jacques Roux]

Swallow your pride down.

Suck my cockiness. Lick my persuasion. Eat my poison.

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With the two snark lords of the Delinquents standing side-by-side, they looked like a rather menacing duo in contrast to the rest of the camp -- All that angst and all that ego. While Jacques knew precisely who the smart mouth was beside him, the two had very different takes on their asshole-ish personifications: Wrath and Pride. With a single brow arched upward, arms folded to wrap across his chest and chin tipped in just the slightest manner, Jacques was undoubtedly casting silent judgement into the abyss. Dammit, if Jacques didn’t think J-Murph was such a fuckwad at times…

Flipper? A small scoff fell from his lips, turning back toward his peer and rolling a middle digit upward as though to own the ‘nickname’ in literal form and with the utmost of flattery. Though, there may have been a hidden smirk that came with it, but that was only because Murph was the only guy he knew that could stand toe to toe with his bullshit. And because Murphy was hard to get along with, at least from what Jacques had witnessed. That made him a challenge. And boy oh boy, if Jacques didn’t like a challenge. “You might be, Murphy,” he teased playfully, “If you tried it.”

A surprised expression crossed his features as Murphy tore the weed from his mouth and thrust it in the direction of Bellamy, their ‘Lord and Savior’. “Hey!” But before he could bitch anymore, he was already silenced by his colleague’s mention of the ‘Anti-Ark speech’. A small pout formed upon his features, gaze traveling back down toward the weed Murphy had so rudely stolen from him. He took a step forward, reaching out to pluck that strand of grass back. With a stern look toward Murphy, he placed its teeth-printed tip back between his teeth.

Taking perch back beside the boy, he joined his stare this time in eyeing Bellamy’s direction. “Pretty sure he’s offered everyone that speech.” Jac turned back toward Murphy, tilting a brow. “You?” There seemed to be a genuine interest in what answer he might offer up.

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TAG: John Murphy WORDS: 349