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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2017 1:21:18 GMT
Mood: Helpful
Notes: Let me know if I should edit!
| Ilian had been returning from Polis, having gone to trade some goods at the market there. He often went with his brother or father, but they had been busy with the harvest, and tending to the sheep, which was always Ilian's favorite part about their farm. He had great fortune at the market, having sold most of their goods. He was walking alongisde his horse, which was pulling a wheelbarrow type cart behind him, the load on the way back far lighter than on the way there as it was practically empty. A figure in the distance however brought Ilian to a halt, curiosity flicking over him.
His horse waited in position as Ilian cautiosuly approached the figure. Skaikru. He had never met one but could instantly recognize the person as one, based on her clothes alone. Rumors had spread to every clan, Trishanakru included. The people who fell from the Sky. Apparently this one had fallen a little too hard. Ilian looked over her, wondering if she was dead or not. He looked around for a moment, reaching for a long stick and grasping it. Holding it out, he began to poke her on her side a few times, but she didn't move. Setting the stick down he moved closer to her, crouching down to get a good look. Her breathing was light, and that gash on her head wouldn't do much good.
Ilian looked up from the hill she had fallen from, wondering if there were more around. Despite her affiliation, he couldn't leave her for dead. His conscience would not allow him to. He turned to look at his horse, before looking back at the woman. "Osir don wogeda gon won mo." We have room for one more. With those words, he lifted up the woman into his arms, and carried her, setting her on the cart as he retook his position next to his horse, and continud their journey on ward. He knew he couldn't take her home, but he could at least take her somewhere to get her wounds treated. Skaikur would not be welcome everywhere though.
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Post by blake on Apr 2, 2017 1:35:27 GMT
Octavia Blake
I don't want to survive. I want to live.
O felt herself rocking and it took her a moment to realize that she shouldn't even be moving. Blinking her eyes opened silently--a habit from the ark where she hadn't been allowed to make a lot of noise--she looked around. She was in a cart of some sort. Had Bellamy found her? Turning her head slowly she tried to figure out where she was, and who she was with. Everything spun for a moment, she she lifted her hand to touch her head. Feeling the wettness there, she could guess what happened.
That was when she begin to really think clear. She had followed Bellamy. He had told her that he killed Jaha. She had been angry he would risk so much 'in her name'. She hadn't wanted anyone to die for her. She had gone away, and fallen . . . It was then her eyes moved to the only other human near by. She felt her heart pounding. They'd speared Jasper. They'd been hunting them. . . . . and now one had found her . . . and put her in a cart? Her hands weren't even bound. Could she run? (Could she even stand without tripping?) Would he kill her? So many questions. She had lived her whole life in fear on the Ark, and in the end it hadn't mattered. Keeping silent hadn't got her anything but send down here to die after they killed her mother and taken everything away from her brother. She wouldn't be ruled by fear any more. "Let me go." She tried to demand, but it wasn't quite as strong as she hoped as fear laced it.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2017 1:51:22 GMT
Mood: Helpful
Notes: Let me know if I should edit!
| The voice had come as a surprise, for Ilian had not been expecting her to rejoin the conscious world so soon. And yet, he couldn't help but feel a wave of relief that she lived. Why? He didn't know. Skaikru's presence was a threat to them all. And yet, his conscience continued to make him want to help her . . . even if he knew on some rational level that it could endanger his life, and the lives of others.
Never the less, he brought his steed to a halt once more and took a few steps toward the cart that she lay on. She demanded that he let her go. He would have to speak her language. "You are free to go. I am not your captor," he assured her. "But, something tells me that you can't. And that something is dripping from your head," he said, motioning with a tilt of his chin as to what he was referring to. The blood that dampened her hair and seeped from her skin.
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Post by blake on Apr 2, 2017 2:14:58 GMT
Octavia Blake
I don't want to survive. I want to live.
The truth of his words were throbbing painfully in her head. She knew that he knew, that she couldn't just up and run away. She hated the weakness, but didn't press her luck by trying it anyway. "If I am not your prisoner, then why---" wait, "You speak English?!" She asked, knowing that they had thought none of them did. She felt surprised, and wondered why she was even surprised. None of them hadn't NOT spoken English.
She had even spoken English too him just moments ago, but she hadn't really expected him to so casually speak it back. Somehow the idea of them had been turned in her head and they were more monster then human. The spearing Jasper, and the skull that they had found came to mind. "Where are you taking me?" She asked, lifting her hand to block out the sun in hopes that the spinning would stop soon. "My brother will be looking for me." She almost said that Bellamy was their leader, but didn't want them to think she was worth something to be used against her brother. "All t-ten of them!" She lied, not even sure why.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2017 23:22:01 GMT
Mood: Helpful
Notes: Let me know if I should edit!
| Ilian listened to her series of questions. He supposed it was a good sign that she was coherent enough to form words, and to be thinking of such things. At the same time, he was worried about the blood loss. And he was no healer. "Yes," he answered simply, to her surprise that he spoke English. Did she know that often only warriors spoke it? And he was obviously no warrior. But he had learned the language, picking up on it during his travels.
Her next question was easier to answer . . . though he first responded to her, threat was it? Ilian paused and glanced around for a moment, though he was evidently unconvinced, even before he turned his head. "Well they're not doing a very good job," he told her. "You were alone when I found you." Otherwise he never would have taken her. "There is a village up ahead. They have a healer who can tend to your wound."
Ilian then reached over near her, and pulled a sac from the side of the cart, handing it to her. "Change into these," he instructed. "There is a good chance they will not help you if they know you are Skaikru." Thank goodness she was conscious enough to do so. Ilian doubted he could change her for her while she was unconscious.
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Post by blake on Apr 2, 2017 23:59:58 GMT
Octavia Blake
I don't want to survive. I want to live.
He didn't explain more about his language, but he gave her more tot hink about when he told her that her brother wasn't doing a good job. Granted she at times told him off for doing stupid things but he was her brother, and she could do that--no one else. "Give them time." She bit out, not even sure why she felt the need for that threat to be there right now. He seemed . . . nice. Even tossed clothes at her. O tried to sit up to move but the world spun and she had to lay back down--and she began feeling cold.
She didn't know much, but she knew that cold wasn't a good sign. Trying again, she didn't get more then her head lifted up before the dizyness took over. Breathing hard she just lay there for a second. "Thank you." She muttered, knowing he didn't need to help her, but that he was.
After a moment of laying there she managed to pull the shirt over her own, but couldn't do the pants. "My name is Octavia." She told him, trying to stall a moment before having to do more. "Why are you helping me?"
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Post by Deleted on Apr 3, 2017 2:39:48 GMT
Mood: Helpful
Notes: None.
| Time. That could very well be true. Ilian didn't know much about the Sky people. But the fact that she had been lying there for so long, and he had been pulling her on a cart, and that they had stopped for quite some time yet she was still not found by her people . . . indicated that they weren't the most skilled of trackers. But Ilian still felt a wave of fear at the thought of being found. He was not a fighter. He didn't kill. So how could he possibly defend himself? Other than just make a run for it. He looked at her when she thanked him, offering the slightest of smiles in response. But then she was pulling her shirt over her head and Ilian wondered if he should be watching her.
The fact that she was incredibly attractive didn't exactly help, for he felt as if he was . . . watching, and looking when he shouldn't be. He also didn't fail to notice the strain of movement, her injury prohibiting her from being able to change with ease. Should he offer to help? Would it be weird? When she got to the pants, he turned his body so that his back was facing her . . . granting her the necessary privacy. Or well, as private as the middle of the woods could be. She introduced herself as Octavia, and Ilian was glad that she could not see his face for the name made him smile. It sounded, beautiful. "Octavia," he repeated, just wanting to hear his own lips say it.
"I'm Ilian," he said in return, properly introducing himself. "From Trishanakru," he added on. Not sure why or how that was relevant to her but said it none the less. She then asked a question that caused the smile to slowly fade. He was tempted to turn his head to look at her, but somehow remained still with his back to her. "I . . . " He didn't have an answer. Apart from the honest one. "Don't know." He had no idea why he was helping her when there was a good chance her people would come after his.
"I only know that I could not leave you for dead." Of that, he had been completely sure. He remained silent, realizing that his back had been turned to face her for a while and wondered if it was because she was done and he was just oblivious to it. Or, because she was struggling too much. "Do you um . . . need help?" He asked, inwardly kicking himself at how awkward that sounded. And how he felt. His heart doing a strange little flutter, almost embarrassed at the thought -- and his offer -- of helping her change her pants.
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