Recount of a Massacre

[Clarke Griffin]

@murphy

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Between everything that happened, Clarke finally found a moment to not do anything. For a second she stood there, uselessly staring ahead, wondering what to do, when her eyes fell onto Murphy. He had been with Finn in the village. He could have stopped him, yet he didn’t. Surely he should have been blamed for it as well, but with the way Finn was acting at the moment, Clarke wasn’t so sure anymore. By now she was aware of other things in her fellow delinquents, or former delinquents. Somehow she had the feeling there was more to it, than Murphy just not trying hard enough. Not long ago she would have fully supported that idea, now she just wasn’t so sure anymore.

The blonde approached him, holding out a pack of nuts – fresh nuts – as some sort of silent peace offering. She still didn’t like him. She still hadn’t forgotten what he had done. “I need to speak to you.” She needed to know what exactly happened, especially before they arrived. They had around 12 hours in which they probably arrived in the village and the massacre. “I need to know exactly what happened in that village, Murphy. Every single detail.” If she wasn’t holding out the nuts, she’d probably cross her arms, but she wanted to let the offer stand by itself.

[Deleted]

In the end they had been pardoned for what had happened in the village. After what had felt like hours being put through the inquisition, the adults had let him and Finn go. To say things were strained around camp was an understatement. It was still just as tense that following morning, he noted, as he sat there at one of the tables drinking the last of his juice from breakfast. The princess and her crew would be off to Mount Weather, leaving him back at camp with the rest of their people. Murphy glanced down at the gun that rested on the bench seat next to him. Things had been so tense that they had even given him a rifle. He scoffed lightly into his cup as he drained the remaining juice and set the cup down on the table with a slight metallic ring. They were clearly more screwed than they let on if they felt they could trust him. Though part of him (the non-sarcastic part) was relieved that they hadn't locked him away in a cell and were giving him a chance.

There were still plenty of people who looked at him and saw nothing but a killer, and while yeah, he had killed some people, all of them had whether it was up in the Ark when they decided to crash it to the ground or fighting against the Grounders - none of them were innocent and they had all been scarred by the past few months of events. When he heard Clarke's voice from behind him, Murphy purposely didn't look at her right away as if he didn't hear her. He picked up his cup and tapped out the last few remaining drops of juice, taking his time to do so. When she demanded details about what had happened in the village, Murphy took another long moment before finally setting his cup down and cast his gaze out to the rest of the camp.

Finally, he swung his legs out to the side of the bench so that he now faced Clarke. His gaze flickered briefly to the bag of nuts that she held in her hand and then shifted upwards until his eyes locked onto hers. "You bring those for me, princess? How thoughtful," he said, his voice laced lightly with sarcasm, although there was no malice in his voice or eyes as he stood to his full height. He was surprised, although he hid it with a faint cocky smile, that she had actually approached him. After the previous night, she had made it pretty clear she had wanted nothing to do with him. But of course as soon as she needed something, she came running back. Didn't they all? "You know what happened. Your boyfriend lost it." Murphy said with a wave of his hand, turning back to pick up his cup so that he could go clean it. Honestly, he really didn't want to talk about it. Standing there, unable to stop Finn, screaming at him to stop and watching one villager fall after another, ate away his insides and it made him feel sick.

Tag: Clarke Griffin

[Clarke Griffin]

Throughout the time she had learned to take Murphy as he was: A man who was not 100% open with what happened to him. Maybe this was a sign of him having walls. Maybe is was a sign of him being mentally incapable of dealing with a lot of things, maybe even a mental disability, though she wasn’t about to go there yet: Walls, PTSD maybe. But to the rest, it wasn’t her place to judge, even though they might eventually need to know. They certainly needed to know if they could trust him yet. Clarke was hesitant to do so, but there was a reason for her to take a step towards him.

“Yes. Take it or leave it.” She didn’t actually care. It was a peace offering, a step of hers towards him and it took her a lot. Her skin still crawled at what he had done and what he had been willing to do, she still felt cold metal press against her neck and felt the faint sensation of a rope around her next, despite it not having been her he tried to hang. Things in the village were different. Given Murphys track record it would have made sense for her to either shoot with Finn or to violently stop him, but he didn’t. She even recalled, slowly, that he screamed Finns name, it was faintly audible over the shots Finn had fired. 

“I know that, Murphy, yes. But not all of it. We came to late to see it all. You and Finn had a headstart of almost twelve hours.” And that was enough to cause so much damage. If only they could have left a bit earlier. They might have stopped it. “What happened in this time, Murphy?” What did he do? What caused Finn to lock them up? Why did Murphy not shoot with him or stop Finn another way? Clarke needed to know. “I know you didn’t kill those people, Murphy. I’m just trying to understand how it started and why you remained clear headed while Finn lost it.”

@murphy

[Deleted]

When Clarke took a step closer to him, he watched her out of the corner of his eye but didn't comment. There was a faint trace of suspicion in his gaze, wondering what she really wanted. He doubted she would have even approached him if she didn't need something. Still, snacks like those nuts weren't exactly easy to come by and if she was offering them to him, who was he to refuse. Murphy didn't say anything but took the bag of nuts, slipping it into one of the inner pockets of his jacket. He turned away from her before grabbing his gun and slinging the strap over his shoulder and across his chest so that it rested against his back comfortably. "You really love ordering people around, don't you princess." It wasn't a question, more of an observation, but one where the end of his statement was clipped and clearly a jab towards her. There was never a moment when Murphy wouldn't take a chance to twist the knife, figuratively or actually, depending on the circumstance. Though if she couldn't handle a jab here or two then how the hell was she going to lead any of them?

He scoffed at her comment about him not killing those people. "You're the only one then." He knew they all blamed him, even if it wasn't for killing people, it was because he hadn't stopped Finn. Murphy took the cup over to the basin where he could clean it out before setting it with the rest of the dishes. Then he finally turned towards her, deliberately leaving several moments of silence before he answered her statement. "You sure you want to know? Really?" Murphy closed the distance between them, leaning down slightly towards her so that their faces were only a few inches apart, his gaze locked with hers. "Your boytoy shot those villagers out of cold-blood because he couldn't handle the truth. He wanted someone to blame for you and the others being captured. Didn't matter if they were scavengers and that's why they had some of our clothing. It didn't matter that they had nothing to do with Mount Weather and what happened to you." Murphy straightened up to his full height as he looked down at Clarke calmly, his voice cool. "He shot them. Old people. Kids. Anyone who got in his way."

Murphy turned and took a few steps away from her before stopping and looking back at her. "You know, not everyone can handle war and death or trying to get by with barely anything. Ever think about that, princess? No, of course not," he scoffed, the corner of his mouth turning up in a faint look of disgust. "You and the rest of the privileged. You think you're so much better than us so when things go to hell, you just can't take it. It messes you up, makes you do things you'd never do because you break down." The sneer disappeared as his features became neutral once more. "You're not the first to ask those questions and you probably won't be the last. What do you want me to say? That it was all just a big misunderstanding? That it was all accidental? Because it wasn't. And the sooner you get that through your head, the better."

Murphy shook his head and looked away, quiet for a few moments. "Someone had to keep a clear head. Someone who wasn't caught up in their own fantasy and obsession," he said, giving her a pointed look. Finn had been obsessing over Clarke for awhile now, or at least, that's what Murphy had gleaned from what he had seen, and it was seriously messing him up. He saw things that weren't there. This war, the deaths of so many delinquents, it had screwed with his head. Not that it hadn't affected Murphy either but he was just better at hiding it. All those years of having to put on the brave face for his mother had finally proven useful.

Clarke Griffin

[Clarke Griffin]

Boytoy – Clarke didn’t give too much thought to that nickname, but it was still slightly amusing. It was a complicated situation, one that had ended in more heartache than she cared to admit. Finn wasn’t her boytoy, simply for the fact that she had no intention to use someone. He might agree if he said it the other way around. Clarke listened to what he had to see. From the small recount, she could get just a fraction of a new idea and that was enough to make her pause and rethink. Murphy mentioned them being scavengers, she had not heard him say that before. Somehow it was suddenly clear to her, that he had made that connection even before Finn had started to shoot people. But what then? Murphy understood the situation, Finn didn’t and Finn ended up shooting people. Somehow she didn’t think Murphy kept silent about his suspicion there. She had heard his screams through it all. She simply let him speak for now, letting every single word sink in. He brought forth more fair points.

People on Alpha Station had it easier, she knew that. Hell she by now knew that she had more rations assigned to her for one meal than Bellamy had been assigned for an entire day, not that she always used them. But in the end, she should have done something else with those instead of just letting them sit there untouched. It might help them once they finished taking stock of Alpha, but that might be it. 

“Finn wasn’t privileged, Murphy.” He had never been. He had shared his rations with Raven. But that wasn’t the point of his speech, was it? It was an elaborate accusation, which was only fair, at least in her eyes. “You’re right. The privileged hardly understand. You can see it in my mothers hesitance to go out there and help our people. But this is war, Murphy. It messes with everyone. People like you and Bellamy, it doesn’t leave you untouched, you just know how to handle it better, because you’ve been fighting even before, just for your own life. Finn couldn’t handle it and one day the privileged will understand what the struggle is.” But it was a far road. Until then they had to rely on people like Bellamy, people who knew what to do in those times, who knew desperate measures might have to be taken. 

“Murphy… I know he was obsessing over me. And what I got from what you said it that you quite accurately realized he was…. Not in his right mind.” There was nothing he could have done about it, was there? Clarke was beginning to understand. “You couldn’t stop him, because if you tried, Finn would have shot you, too, right? That’s why you shouted only, because interfering… because trying to stop him would have resulted in more dead people.” Oh god. He had really lost his mind and Murphy, someone who had done a lot to survive, could have accurately assessed that. “You couldn’t have physically stopped him, because that would have just made it worse, right? That would have probably resulted in him killing everyone, you included.” Maybe even them upon revival, depending on how far Finn had gone. “Am I right, Murphy?”

@murphy

[Deleted]

There were times that he didn't completely hate Clarke but there were times when she really got on his nerves. Murphy was not one to control his temper and had lashed out plenty of times before, but he was attempting to do better. The whole series of events at Tondc grated on him, twisting his gut into knots every time he thought about it, and the worst part of it all was people just wouldn't drop it. When Clarke mentioned her mother, Murphy gave her a pointed look. "And people nearly died because she refused to go. You think they thought twice when they sent us down here? No. Did it matter that this place could kill us? Not at all, because we're just criminals to them. 100 less mouths to feed on the Ark," he said flatly. His gaze narrowed slightly at her words about struggling. "Don't talk like you actually understand what struggling is, princess. You never had to beg for food or figure out how to get by for a week with a day's worth of rations," he said coldly.

Every day had been a fight for survival after his father had been floated. He had made do with what he had, but his mother had been more drunk than sober and so it had all fallen onto his young shoulders to take care of both of them. Murphy remembered all too clearly days where he had to go without much more than a handful of food between the two of them. It was what had ultimately gotten him into trouble, but by that point, he hadn't really cared anymore. At least in prison he had been given three square meals a day, which was more than he could have said being outside of the cell. Though being stuck alone, with no one to talk to, had messed with him, and to this day he was still terrified of being left and having no one there when he died. Every night in the Grounder prison camp, he had wondered if they would end up killing him and no one would care. The story of his life. Not that it mattered much anymore.

Murphy was quiet for a moment as he regarded her, trying not to roll his eyes at her comments. He wasn't in the mood for rationalization. “Why are you even asking me this? Obviously you’re figuring it out just fine all on your own,” he said with a slight wave of his hand and turned away from her again. Walking a few steps, he paused, looking back at her. “I could have easily stopped him, by the way. You don’t think I thought about that? But what would you have done if you had come into the village and seen him unconscious, a bunch of dead Grounders, and me with a gun? You’d blame me. Just like you always have. And you wouldn’t even think twice because I’m always the bad guy.” With that, he began to walk away, this time not looking back.


Clarke Griffin (feel free to go after him!)

[Clarke Griffin]

“We were meant to die anyway. Every single one of us was facing a death sentence. Earth is just a different way of execution for us.” She had to agree. They had sent them down here to die. They were desperate. Clarke understood their motivations, but the bitter truth remained: According to their knowledge it should have been more likely for them to die. Either immediately due to toxic air or slowly, through radiation, which still existed in the atmosphere as Clarke had learned in her short time in Mount Weather. Only their people had evolved, they could handle it now. Otherwise the 100 would be dead of radiation poisoning now. Not a single one has shown the slightest symptom in the time they should have appeared. But just then Murphy voiced something that made her blood boil with anger. Even just the thought of forgiving him and trying to understand disappeared with those words. Like so many others, knowing better or not, he reduced her once again to who she was born as, belittling what she was through, while she had tried to understand his struggle and just then make sense of his through process, never once trying to belittle any of his decisions, but trying to take him seriously. Just then she knew there was no point at all to this conversation anymore. If he could not see that others suffered as well, why should she continue to recognize it in him? Clarkes face immediately hardened, walls she didn’t even realize she lowered in an attempt to speak to him, were brought up again. 

“Because I thought maybe there could be a good guy underneath the asshole. I guess I was wrong.” And with that he would not get any support from her against Raven or anyone else. He was on his own. He walked away, saying how he’d always be the bad guy to her and, yes, he was right, he just ensured that. “You made sure of that, by blowing the one chance you had to prove yourself.” Clarke looked as he walked away, but she made no move to follow him. Because why should she? She had more pressing issues at hand, like their friends in Mount Weather, the Grounders, even just the simple thought of winter approaching day by day. Once he was gone, Clarke, too, turned around to walk away.

@murphy (*kicks the muse* I couldn't make her walk after him. Sry)