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A glance to Clarke as she settled in a chair and Murphy's attention drifted back to the foot of the stairs leading up to the door. No use fretting it would open up again if he sat too; if somebody or something was taunting him then darting up and down to the door would be maybe what they wanted. Besides, it was more likely the lock had only been released to entrap Clarke, so unless there were more stragglers heading their way... were the Arkers all outside somewhere? He'd ask her. Before he had the chance she spoke up with questions for him. 

Questions he could only half answer. Yes, he'd left with the chancellor but the man's current whereabouts were anybody's guess and Murphy didn't care. Not unless Jaha was coming his way, to try to kill him in some 'sacrifice the few' frenzy or to break him out. with a quiet huff, he flopped down in a chair across from Clarke, offering a reply to her first question and in doing so answering the second. "Dead. Alive? How would I know? He ran off trying to catch one of those things as soon as we got here." The next words that left Clarke's lips drew Murphy's gaze her way, his expression flickering with bitterness and faint mistrust. "What are you doing here, Clarke?"

Clarke Griffin

Murphy stayed put at first where he'd halted, watching Bellamy from a few steps away waiting for some indication that the other man wanted to be left alone. He was, after all, drinking late in the deserted Hangar. Drowning his sorrows or creating more. Or both... who knew? Whatever it was, there was a chance Murphy would linger if Bellamy tried to dismiss him, even if only for a short while.

When the silent gesture to join him came instead, Murphy accepted after a moment or two, glancing to the offered cup before he stepped up to the bar beside Bellamy, arms resting atop. How were they holding up? Emori had seemed somewhat uneasy in the Arker camp, or in the least, alert. It made sense, especially considering she had learned her brother had died at the camp's gates. Still, death was everywhere; if they all made an effort to avoid scenes of past crimes nobody could settle anywhere down here. Murphy offered a simple reply, if not one that truly answered the question, along with a faint shrug as he spoke. "Life goes on, right?"

He let his hand curl around the cup, drawing it closer to lazily inspect the contents. The scene felt odd though somehow calming after so much mayhem. The volatility of the ground and their own two paths, twisting and surging and now once again merging together, however briefly. There were no illusions that this outward peace would last, and none that personal peace was even an option. Even so, he offered a question to which he already suspected the answer, whether Bellamy would give it or not. "This you celebrating your win?"

Bellamy Blake

Some unrealized sense must have sent him running in the direction of the Dropship camp. Or sheer luck, though just how fortunate it was he'd ended up back here remained to be seen, but he wasn't confident in his chances. Not considering the warning he'd been given should he ever return. Despite the significant possibility Bellamy would return and put a bullet in his head after all, Murphy's hopes to live still held strong. He could maybe run if he had to, fighting wasn't much of an option and certainly not in the state he was in, but he was glad for the doubtful 'safety' of the delinquent camp. At least for now. 

Safe would be one of the last words he'd have used for this place following his hanging, but what he had endured at the Grounder camp had shifted his view if only temporarily. He would rather be here than there, even if the threats to his life still came. As people had wandered in and out of the Dropship, of those that had spoken they had either spat words of loathing or talked about him as though he couldn't hear them, of course knowing that he did. Discussing his fate, one way or another.

How bad?

The question had him glancing up, sight still hindered by the swelling around one eye, only to note the girl wasn't addressing him, but instead the other who was tending to one of the larger cuts along his arm. Just as well, he thought, he didn't feel like talking. In fact it hurt to, his throat raw from days of screaming. But this discussing of him as he sat silent was irritating, though now regular. How bad? None of them would know. Half surely didn't even believe his story, though just how they thought he had sustained such injuries was beyond him. Throw them out there alone and see how far they get. The mention of the Grounders catching him a second time elicited a faint shudder, though he was already shivering at intervals anyway. Something he was wishing he could stop, particularly whenever anybody came by to offer some abuse, as two did now.

To finish the job.

The glint of the knife caught Murphy's eye and instinctively his hands began curling into fists, the movement halted by the pain at a few of his fingertips. There was little he could do to defend himself in this state, weakened, injured and outnumbered, but he would do his best if needed. When he heard the girl speak up in his defense, however indirectly it may have been, his attention settled on her. Murphy suspected the suggestion for the girls to leave might have been heeded if it had only been the one tending his wounds, considering how uneasy she seemed, but the one who had spoken showed no signs of backing down. Still, Murphy assumed the boy would reach him as he made a move his way, but if not for his expectation of death coming for him at any moment, he might have smirked when the girl gained the upper hand. Instead he merely watched, waiting to see who would win out, his gaze darting to the blade as it slid along the floor in his direction yet out of reach. 

With the boys backing off and leaving the Dropship followed by the amateur nurse, Murphy's attention fell once more on the girl as she offered him the knife. He took it cautiously after some deliberation, searching her features for some trick, and set the knife down on the floor close beside him in case this should be some twisted test cooked up by their leader. Or Connor. Or anyone else who would love the chance to put that noose around his neck a second time. So what happened? Nothing he wanted to recount again after the first few times he'd been questioned, at least not right now, but he offered a simple summing up. "Grounders happened." He cast a glance past her in the direction of the entrance of the Dropship, drawing his gaze back her way as he went on. "You going to fight off Bellamy too?"

Tag: Nina Eaton

Despite his reluctance, Murphy had continued on the journey back to Arkadia with the others, with mixed feelings as he passed through the gate. On the one hand, this was perhaps necessary familiarity after the events of the last few months. On the other, maybe it was a familiarity he could no longer return to, and to stick around would be a bad decision. Regardless, he could hopefully always leave after a few days with Emori, if the need arose. 

They had stayed mostly out of the way since arriving, keeping to the room allocated to them for much of the time while the Arkers sought some kind of routine, settling back into the camp. While some of them still appeared to have difficulty accepting their recent slavery, others were throwing themselves into rebuilding normality, whatever that might mean. Grasping for a focus, and it was no doubt better than wallowing. Either way, Murphy still saw it as their camp, while he was merely passing through. He just didn't know for how long. 

There was an election. With the former chancellor dead by Octavia's hand, Murphy had expected Kane or perhaps even Jaha to step in, though he may have left the camp immediately had the latter even been considered. The process had instead turned to a vote with Bellamy Blake claiming victory. Murphy had been amused upon hearing the result; the 'king' once again taking the throne, albeit in a more official manner. Still, whatever his view of the other man he had considered if there was anybody else in Arkadia that he would have trusted in Bellamy's place, accepting that there was, in fact, nobody. 

He hadn't voted anyway, seeing no point, whether or not he was staying. In his experience, leadership was taken, not given or earned, but the fair election had seemingly proved him wrong. Though Murphy remained an outsider to the camp, even from within. Along with passing on the election, he had only attended the memorial for a short time and from far enough away to not truly be present. Though now he ventured to wander the Ark, life in the camp finally in some vague order after a few days, if not exactly settled.

His walk led him to the entrance of the Hangar, wandering in a little way before he halted. Nobody around at this hour, he figured, until his gaze fell on Bellamy at the end of the bar, sat alone as he knocked back his drink. A moment's pause and Murphy headed across at a stroll, slowing as he reached the other. "... Chancellor." There was a light mocking in the word, although it lacked any of the bitterness with which he'd previously used it to address Jaha. Another chancellor, another shared history.

Bellamy Blake

The response suggested Bellamy had misunderstood. Had inferred that Murphy had some qualms about his 'recruitment' into Bellamy's group when they had landed. Sure, perhaps he had a choice about that, however poor or wise the alternative might have been at the time. But the matter of choice Murphy had spoken of was in regards his betrayal and exile. If he had ever even been one of Bellamy's people, that had changed in a few dreadful moments with the other's silence followed by compliance with the crowd and eventual leading of Murphy's punishment. 

He was ready to snap back to clear it up, or to indirectly highlight how Bellamy's misunderstanding had him missing a vital point of their past. But he knew Bellamy hadn't. Things were no longer the way they had been and despite the urge to correct the other man, Murphy declined to labor the point. One which both were painfully aware of otherwise it seemed. Instead, another faint smirk to let the mistake pass unchallenged. If indeed it was a mistake at all.

Any further thought on it faded as Bellamy went on, seemingly demanding an answer along with Murphy's full attention, standing so close that it elicited both slight unease and an oddly welcome familiarity. To deflect the other's question again would be suspect, or worse, revealing in some way despite the reluctance to reply. Though to give a straight answer... yet harder still. Maybe in his own way...  

He cast a glance to Mbege's pack on the table, lingering on it as if he were almost hoping the right words were hidden inside too. Buying time before he conceded, though he wouldn't see it as such. His gaze shifted back to Bellamy, with a vague gesture of his arms to each side and that smirk still in place, though it faltered a touch as he spoke. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Tag: Bellamy Blake

There was a faint huff of amusement at Bellamy's defense of Clarke, though the sound lacked any humor, more irritation. Now the leader was defending his rival, yet perhaps he was right. Clarke had appeared convinced when she'd come to blurt out her accusation at Murphy, whining about their 'society'. That didn't necessarily mean she was innocent but there were still others in the group who might be more likely suspects.

Now Bellamy pulled another in for consideration and the choice had Murphy sneering in response. "... I get it. If it's not me it must be him, right? Forget everyone else here who hated Wells, it's got to be one of us?" The truth was he couldn't be certain it wasn't Mbege, but he was fairly confident the other was not guilty of this. The two of them had spoken of the event, spoken of the Grounders who nobody had seen commit the crime but had been thought of as the most likely suspects by all, including Murphy and Mbege. If his friend had murdered Wells, Murphy figured the other would have told him, or at least given him some reason to consider it might be the case. 

Restlessly pacing a few steps back and forth as he spoke, he now moved to step up to Bellamy as he had before, challenging with an indictment of his own. "Maybe you killed him, Bellamy... since we're throwing accusations around." He didn't believe it, even as the words left his mouth, sure that if it were true then the leader would have let him hang. But Murphy's insolence went on, fueled by the fear and fury still coursing through him. 

Tag: Bellamy Blake

His smirk lingered a while longer when his remark garnered no response, even if he may have gotten some pleasure out of one had it been offered. With everything that had happened, even simply to irritate Bellamy would provide some kind of enjoyment, though it wouldn't be enough. In reality, neither enjoyment nor amusement were on Murphy's mind, things were far more serious. Bellamy's betrayal had been no imagined slight, not to Murphy. No matter the entire lack of blame the other accepted, instead laying it all on him. 

Charlotte too, the perpetrator of the crime of which Murphy was accused and punished. He had demanded her answer for it and set out to chase her down. And why not? Hadn't she deserved it? For the crime and for not speaking up sooner. In truth, Murphy wasn't sure what he might have done had he ever gotten hold of the girl, but even Charlotte had admitted her crime and accepted her fate. Punished herself even. But no admittance of failure from King Bellamy, no confession, no apology. It was just as well... none would have sufficed. 

His faint grin fell when Bellamy finally spoke up again, the mention of Grounders making him nauseous for a second or two, so much so that he almost winced at the thought alone, never mind from the still fresh ache of his injuries. Almost. Instead he gave a slight sneer as he offered a reply, unhelpful as it was. "I already told Clarke everything I know... " He might have continued, but the appearance of Myles bringing Bellamy a cup of water silenced him, though he did slow his digging to eye the boy who had tied his noose.

Tag: Bellamy Blake