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Post by Clarke Griffin on Aug 14, 2015 17:08:04 GMT
They’d been running without pause – with as little pause as possible more likely, since Finn kept wanting to wash off the blood from his hands, but they had to get to the others, to get a head start on the Grounders, on the scouts, to get to safety. The camp was in chaos. Clarke immediately knew something was up! Something was really really wrong. It took her way too long to realize, no it was not Bellamy on the dropship trying to solve it. He was in it, with Murphy. Octavia and Jasper were frantic to change it. Just as Clarke arrived, they managed to get the dropship open, so she rushed inside with them.
The picture she was faced with, would probably haunt her for a while. Bellamy strung up, hung, Murphy rushing upwards. This rat was lucky her priority was Bellamys life or he’d regret crawling upwards with Clarke in the vicinity of pointy things. She had done her fair share of killing, right then she would not be opposed to it. Instead she rushed to where they got him down to. Clarkes hand immediately went to his neck, checking for injuries.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 15, 2015 3:33:37 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy was fully aware that it wasn't going to be all peaches and cream with Murphy. He hadn't wanted him back at this camp; he hadn't trusted them. And now knowing that he killed two of their own and threatened Jasper . . . well, it had been impossible to stand idly by and let him threaten the wrong man. Murphy wanted Bellamy, and he used that to get Jasper out of a dangerous situation, readily walking into it himself.
With that said, he had not expected Murphy to do what he did. Bellamy tried apologizing, for he knew now that what he had done was wrong. He shouldn't have hung Murphy; he shouldn't have gone along with the crowd. But Murphy wasn't there to listen to reason. He wanted him to feel what he had. He wanted him to hang. But Murphy was not a leader.
The others wouldn't just let him get away with this. He held faith in Clarke, that she would step up . . . he had to believe she was alive, wherever she was. She would come back and the people would follow her way before they followed Murphy. Bellamy had tried to fight off Murphy when he had his kneck in the makeshift noose, but it only prompted Murphy to kick the chair and that was when Bellamy felt it. He was trying to use his hands but Murphy made sure he couldn't.
He felt the tightening strap cutting him off, causing him to see black spots, struggling to breathe . . . choking. He wouldn't be able to hang for much longer and he could feel darkness start to consume him. In the distance he could feel himself moving, lowering, voices around him that sounded so far away. He no longer felt the pressure of the strap around his neck and he felt something within him compelling him to take a breath. Just, one breath. As he did he gasped for air, letting out a few hoarse coughs as he put his hands around his throat. When he could see his surroundings clearly enough, the first person his eyes lay sight on was her. "Clarke," he stated in a raspy voice. She was here. She was alive. And she had saved his life.
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Aug 15, 2015 16:11:16 GMT
He had to breathe. Clarke didn’t give much of a thought to Murphy as she hoped he would just disappear or someone else would just shoot him in the face. He needed to be stopped. Her concern was with Bellamy and Bellamy only. For a moment she had even forgotten about the impeding war, about having to get out there, she would not leave without him. Without him they were not only a man short, but they lost their leader. They needed him for this war, the kids were looking up to him, trusting him. They needed him, more than he probably realized.
Clarke was relatively sure his neck was okay, even before he spoke her name. She did not feel anything bad in his neck, no movement where he should not move. He would be fine. He could be fine. It was good. He was alive, safe. It was good. “Careful, Bellamy. Don’t overdo it. We…” Well they had to get out of there before the grounders came. Or the reapers. Clarke nodded to his sister, hoping she’d help her to get him up and then gone.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 15, 2015 17:04:38 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT She told him to be careful, not to overdo it. But he couldn't afford that luxury right now. He needed to make sure that their defenses were up, that the others were still working on them -- and not distracted by the shit that Murphy pulled. "Where the hell have you been?" He asked, almost jokingly but in actuality, it was his way of showing concern. He had feared she was dead. He had decided to go after her the second Jasper was caught. Why? Because he realized the others were right: you don't abandon your own. With his vision clearing, he could properly get a look at her and . . . she looked like she had been through hell and back.
"You alright?" He asked, putting his hand on his throat as he attempted to sit up. She was talking, she was moving, that meant she was alright, but his question still stood. He needed to hear it from her. Once he was in an upright position, he realized that Murphy still hadn't been properly dealt with -- or as far as he knew. "Where is that son of a bitch?" He asked, trying to quickly collect himself so that he could go after him just in case he hadn't been apprehended already. He wasn't going to let the bastard get away with this. Killing two of their people and threatening Jasper. With Octavia's help, he managed to stand up, shaking off the feeling of nearly being hung. "How are the preparations?" He asked. They didn't have a moment to waste. The Grounders would be here at any moment.
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Aug 15, 2015 18:59:43 GMT
“We were held hostage by the grounders. Lincoln saved us.” Without him they would both be dead now, instead Finn and her were alive and back just in time to try and evacuate their people to escape this war and bloodshed. They had to try it. But every second was a wasted moment if they did not go out right now, before the scouts arrived. They had one chance, one opening to get there. “I’m fine, you’re the one who’s just been hanged. How does the throat feel?” He could speak, he could breathe, that was good. If any damage had been done, she suspected it would be bruises, a rough throat for a while and that was potentially it – hopefully. Clarke as he sat up was about to answer the question as an explosion could be heard and the ship started to shake.
“There you have your answer.” He was still upstairs and apparently wreaking havoc. People went into motion to get there, while Clarke held her hand warningly towards Bellamy to not even dare to try and go after him. He had different things to worry about. Murphy was done. He lost all reason to be with them, he would be dead before they left. “Bellamy, they’re coming in the morning. We’re hopelessly outnumbered. We have to leave. Lincoln said we have to leave before the scouts arrive. We have to go immediately, Bellamy.”
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 16, 2015 2:47:41 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Lincoln. He was a Grounder and yet it seemed he was saving all sorts of their people . . . first Octavia, now Clarke and Finn. He didn't miss her say the term 'us' which meant that Finn was alright as well. Good. That provided further relief to the co-leader. "What did they want?" He asked. Why were they being held hostage? He was surprised that the Grounders didn't just kill them. Had they tortured them to try and get information like Murphy had given them? "I'm fine," he answered dismissively. His injury wasn't serious. It could have been more so, but Clarke had come and saved him just in time.
At that moment, the drop ship started to shake as there was a loud explosion. "Damn it, Murphy," Bellamy muttered under his breath. Not only had the bastard escaped, he had most likely made a hole in the drop ship, weakening their defenses. Damn him. Bellamy was about to take a step forward to go after him, but Clarke anticpated what he would do and motioned to stop him, saying that they were coming in the morning. That they had to leave. "No," he argued stubbornly.
"We're not going anywere," he added on, already having made up his mind about that. "Besides, where the hell are we gonna go? At least here we have defenses, we can fight them off. We're just prey for them to hunt in the woods, and they will hunt us down and kill us." The Grounders knew these woods better than them. They had lived here for nearly a century. "We fight them on our ground. On our terms. On our turf." And that was all there was to it. He wasn't going to run from the home they built. The Grounders had no right to take this away from them.
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Aug 16, 2015 15:50:09 GMT
“For me to save one of them. It doesn’t matter.” It really didn’t. She couldn’t save the girl, they almost killed them, had it not been for Lincoln, they’d both be dead now. Clarke now owed him her life, but on top of that, they all in a way did. His warnings were true, so far he had given them no reason at all to mistrust him and so Clarke chose to trust his warning, his plan. If he thought this was the way to go, his voice deserved to be heard. While Clarke didn’t see eye to eye with him on the ‘I’m fine’ part, even she could tell it was no injury that should stop him from doing what he had to do and that was lead.
“We have to. They outnumber us, Bellamy.” There was no way they were going to win. They could impossibly take them all on. They didn’t have enough guns, they were hopelessly outnumbered. How were they going to win a fight this uneven? And then there was the fact that most of them were just kids. “Not if we get out of here before the scouts come. We have a chance if we get out before that, a chance to live. Apparently we can go to the coast.”
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 16, 2015 19:18:25 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Save a Grounder? Well, that sounded like a story for another day. Right now, they had more pressing matters at hand and what mattered most was that she was alright. That she was back. Although she seemed adament about the leaving part. Something that Bellamy continued to heavily disagree with. While it was true that they were outnumbered, Bellamy still believed that they stood a chance if they at least fought on their ground. "That fact isn't gonna change if we go out there and hope to outrun them . . . which we won't." They were all over these woods.
No where was safer than the confines of their own camp. She then spoke of going to the coast and Bellamy just lookd at her. "Go to the coast and then what? In case you haven't noticed Clarke we don't exactly have boats." What, they were going to swim through? Considering that most of them didn't know how -- since they were all born and raised in space -- that would just result in majority of them drowning. "So what else you got?" He questioned, after believing he had shot down the coast idea.
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Aug 17, 2015 10:54:32 GMT
This stupid stubborn ass. Why wouldn’t he see the idea for a valid option, which it obviously was. They could make it, according to Lincoln. They could get out of there, live even though they lost comforts. With the Arks radio silence, they were maybe the only survivors, the only people of their society left. Didn’t they owe it to them in a way to fight for their survival, no matter what?
“Lincoln spoke of a clan there, a different one. He said they might help us since we’re not at war with them.” They might let them live there, in peace. Was it not worth a shot? It could save their damn lives, it could save many lives actually. Kids could lose their lives next. “What else I got? I got one of their leaders just having been hung by Murphy. I have an army of Grounders against us, which hopelessly outnumber us. I have scouts coming in that will not let a single one flee. And let me guess, that up there was our last gunpowder? So what I got is a slaughter at our hands, Bellamy!”
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 17, 2015 18:02:40 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT Lincoln. They were relying on drawings that he had in that damn book. Bellamy didn't fail to pick up on one very key word that Clarke had used. "Might?" He repeated. The clan might help them. That was not at all reassuring. "We weren't at war with the Grounders but they still shot a spear through Jasper." He didn't care if they felt threatened, the point was, this clan could share that same feeling towards them. "And then what? We'll be fighting a two front war. That clan will be attacking us from one side while the Grounders take us out from the other." He didn't think he was being too distrusting. Given what the Grounders did to them -- and how they forced them to retaliate . . . well, Bellamy didn't trust any of the people who had been on Earth prior to their own arrival.
"You're riding this all on some damn drawings. It's too risky." They knew nothing of this clan. Absolutely nothing. She then listed off what else she had, and while most all of it was true . . . he was still in disagreement about leaving. Yes, he had been hung and nearly died. Yes, they were massively outnumbered. Yes, the scouts would come soon. Yes, that was their last gunpowder. She was absolutely right about all of it . . . but that didn't change his mind. "Well what I got, all we got, is this place. Our home. We built it with our bare hands, everyone here did." They should be building further defenses -- and Bellamy hoped to god they didn't stop just because of what happened with him and Murphy in here. "There's no where else for us to go. We either die here, defending our home. Or we die running through the woods. I know which one I would prefer." If death was inevitable, then Bellamy would rather die in this place than in the woods, running like aimlessly.
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Aug 18, 2015 13:18:17 GMT
“And we can build it again!” What they build they could rebuilt somewhere safe. Why did he have to be so stubborn? What good did it do for them to have what they built when they were all dead in the end? Clarke felt the frustration rise in her. She did not want anyone to die. If according to Lincoln this was their chance, they should take it. He had not given them any reason to distrust him. Maybe it was time to let the people decide. Suddenly there was commotion outside. Clarke rushed to the door of the dropship. She saw some people rushing back in. Why were they outside of the wall? Among them Finn and… someone clearly dead. He had an axe in his head. Now even Clarke had to give in.
“The scouts are here.” They missed their window. They had to fight. She turned to the recently hanged Bellamy. “Are our provisions inside the dropship?” As a very last resort they could lock themselves up inside the ship. It might not last them forever, but it might buy them some valuable time, if nothing at all. As a last desperate attempt they could do that. “What do you suggest now?”
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 19, 2015 2:47:04 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT She was claiming that they could build it again, but why should they have to? It would just be a constant cycle of building their home, and then running. They shouldn't live like that. He was about to add on to his point, when he heard something going on outside. He stood up and looked at her curiously.
She revealed that the scouts had come, and questioned if their provisions were in the drop ship. "Most of them," he stated. Everyone was supposed to be working on our defenses before Murphy happened." He hoped they didn't stop and waste time. "Look, Clarke, if you want to suggest to the people to flee, I can't stop you. We can still sneak out through camp. But just remember, crowds don't always make the right decision." Murphy was a clear example of that. "But if we're gonna fight, it's not just gonna be on me. It's gonna be because we have to." It wasn't that he wanted to lead their people to slaughter. "So you tell me, what do you suggest?" They were co leaders, and he wasn't going to be dismissive of that.
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Aug 19, 2015 15:58:10 GMT
“We can’t.” Not anymore. “With the scouts here…” With them here it was no option anymore. They’d probably slaughter them if they tried. Their window was closed. They’d have to stand their ground or die or die regardless. This was it. They had to fight a war. “We’ll get the rest of the provisions inside then. And then we prepare and wait.” Clarke needed Bellamy for this. He was the one who had an idea about this. He could lead them through this. They would look to him through this, all of them. To them, actually.
“We can’t get away anymore.” Hopefully what they did would suffice. “What was your plan, Bellamy?” Some of the younger kids should probably get into the dropship, right? Then again they needed every able person in order to survive. She needed to know what his plan was right now, because honestly she didn’t exactly know how to go about it all. “I think that’s your expertise.” Hopefully it would hold. “Do you need painkillers, Bellamy? For your throat?”
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Aug 25, 2015 2:57:08 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT It was official. They would be staying to fight. Bellamy pushed the thought of fleeing out of his head once and for all, focusing on what the original plan was. "Good. We'll get some people on that right away," he said with a bit of a nod regarding getting their provisions inside. She was asking what the plan was, that this was his expertise. "We've been preparing for this," he assured her. "All the gunners have their posts. We use the tunnels to get in and out. From now on, the gate stays shut. I don't wanna see anyone open that thing."
They needed to reinforce it as best as they could. "Everyone already knows their positions," he added on. "A few of us will be in the woods. Try to fight off as many as we can before they reach the gate." They had the advantage of gunfire and higher ground if they were lucky. She asked if he needed painkillers, and the thought was indeed a tempting one. "I'll be fine." They needed to save those for later, for those who were injured during this. Because he had to believe that there were going to be survivors. That this wasn't how it ended for all of them. "We need to save as much of the medicine as we can." Besides, this wasn't all that bad. He was still able to talk. That was good enough for him.
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Post by Clarke Griffin on Aug 25, 2015 15:02:57 GMT
Clarke immediately knew where she would have to be: At the dropship. There was no better option. She might be able to fight, but the better idea was for her to be where she was right then. She was the only person out of them with medical training. People would get hurt during this, no matter how well they fought. People would need medical help and she was the only one capable of performing more complicated treatments. So her position would be in the dropship.
“You’re right. We have lots of seaweed, no anesthesia unless absolutely needed, scalpels and everything are sterile. Everything we have is in the dropship and easily accessible for me. I am prepared.” For a long night and even longer days. She hoped their casualties would be a low number, but she couldn’t be sure. She would do her best, but what if it wasn’t enough. “I will need one gun with me. Or someone skilled with a knife, I don’t care, but depending on what injuries we get, I will need to be able to focus on that while someone defends us.”
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