Day 008: A Conspiracy is Formed
Summary: Grey creates a plan. He manages to get both Fiona and Faolan to agree to it. Both are minor miracles.
Date: 13 May 2016
Related: Follows A Change is Gonna Come
Grey Fiona Faolan 


Around the Dropship, The Camp
Varies, and generally in poses.
8 Days After Landing

Chaos still flares through the Delinquents' camp, arguments and fist-fights. It's less than an hour after the explosive news that the camp is back in contact with the Ark, and rumors sweep through the Delinquents like wildfire. Grey does his best to avoid both trouble and rumors as he makes his way down from the upper levels of the dropship. He pokes around the bottom floor of the dropship before he finds Fiona, crouching alongside the young woman and reaching out to shake her shoulder lightly with his knife-slashed left arm. "Fiona. Wake up. We need to talk." His makeshift baton is still strapped to his back, and Grey is wearing his leather Grounder-shirt.

Fiona flails in her sleep, but any blows she might manage to glance off Grey are about as effective as a butterfly's wings on rhino hide. Sitting up, she rubs at her eyes. "Wassa wrong, Lucian?" That's how he'll know she's exhausted.

Grey is tired enough that one of the flailing limbs whacks him in the shoulder, causing him to rock in his crouch. "Ow." It's a dull statement, and he shakes his head, "Sorry. I need sleep too. But we need to talk. Now." He offers out his right hand to help her up, "Outside. Somewhere quiet, if we can find it."

"Mrrph." is her helpful reply, but she hauls herself up with his help. "If you don't mind a little walk we can head to the field where I got the flowers. Even with how pretty it is, I don't think anyone wants to go outside the wall." So no bumping into some teens hoping to get busy.

Grey shakes his head, "No time." Now isn't that mysterious? Shifting his hand to her upper arm, Grey starts to hustle out of the dropship at a quick walk, aiming to pull Fiona after him.

She lets him drag her - to a point, and then she silently wrenches her arm away, flashing him an irritated look while still following along. She says nothing, just waits for him to spill it, whatever it is.

Grey doesn't fight it once Fiona pulls her arm free, leading her around the curve of the dropship away from where Cole and a few of the other Techies are already working on a communications shed. Back toward the ruin and destruction that met their fiery descent. He stops after a few paces, leaning close in the darkness, "I don't think we need to hold the Grounders anymore." His words are a low murmur, tumbling out in a rush.

Well, that's a change of direction. "Her brows hit her hairline, arms crossing in front of her chest from both skepticism and chill. "Because…?"

"Because we have something of value to the Grounders now. Or we will when the Arkers come down." Grey keeps his voice low and intense. "I think we should get them out now, while the camp is in chaos. Then we don't have a huge argument from the crazy idiots. But I can't do it myself. I know Morgan's idiots would want them free. If you're okay, and Faolan's okay, I think we've got…" his hands pinwheel a little, looking for the right words, "…representation."

"Don't be vague." Fiona warns him, eyes narrowing. "We've been fighting them and ourselves for the past week and we've done our best when we've worked together. Lay it all down, Grey." Girl is not kidding around. She wants to understand the plan, or no go.

Grey shakes his head, "I'm not tryin' to be vague. Sorry." Obviously, the wheels are still turning behind his eyes, but once Grey's wheels (eventually) start turning, they take on an inertia of their own. "The Grounders said that when they have a summit, both sides need to have something valuable to the other, right? We didn't have that. We were prey, or something to be shoved aside. Now we've got something." The words are coming out quick now, still quiet, but tumbling one upon another, "Releasing the Grounders doesn't show them weakness anymore. They can tell their people that we've got more coming down, with Tech. Hell, we can let Jaha talk to them even, if Cole finishes things fast enough. And then some of us, we go with them, as emissaries."

Fiona listens, thoughtful. "The woman said they weren't interested in our tech, but she could have been lying." There's a tilt of her head. "What makes you say we have an advocate? You want to let them go and send emissaries with them, or just send them back to their people with the message?"

Grey shakes his head, "Just sending them back won't be enough. Apparently, that's just not how they do things." He shrugs helplessly, "And she's proud. Would you be interested if someone told you they could do things better than you, things your people've been doing for generations?" He frowns to find himself defending the Grounders, shaking his head in confusion.

"So it's her." Fiona concludes. "Who changed her mind? How?" Despite herself, Fiona's a little frustrated. "How many people do you want to send with them and how exactly do you want to get them out?" Yes, she has questions.

Fiona adds, "And what about her partner?"

Grey blinks at the conclusion, leaning back a little and shaking his head, "What… no… it's them. Both of them. We just don't need to hold them anymore." Gesturing up toward the top of the dropship looming over them, "All those straps? That wasn't for them, I didn't want to hurt them," now he's just explaining himself, getting off-track, "It was to keep the people talking to them safe." Shaking that off, he gets back on point, "I don't know who to send. The bigger the group, the harder it'll be to get us," he's included himself in the embassy then, "out. Katie and Jasin," the two guards on duty right now, "will help us, so long as you and Faolan okay it too." One hand gestures out toward the shouting, arguments, and chaos of the camp, "But this is our best chance to get out without a scene."

Snap decision time. "Okay." She sees his intentions, even if she's not sure if he wants her to go, or just help. "Let's do it. Fey, though…are you sure? He hates them. What do you need me to do?" And just like that, she's on board.

"Yes. That's why it has to be him. Morgan represents the Grounder Lovers, and we know he'd okay it. You represent the diplomats. Now Faolan represents the Grounder Haters." Grey shrugs a little, spreading his hands helplessly at his sides, "All I need you to do is to tell Katie and Jasin that you agree, and get ready to come with us. Because we know I'm shit at diplomacy."

"Alright. I'll go get my stuff and go tell them." She's very skeptical about hater representation, but she recognizes the chance for what it is. "Where do we meet up? By the gate?" She is not throwing away her shot.

Grey nods his head up toward the dropship, "Second floor. We all go out together. We'll need some numbers to hide who we're takin' out. Don't take all your stuff. Some people are gonna be pissed about this, and we don't want to be fingered right away."

Fiona gives Grey a curt nod. "You going to go get Fey? I can meet you both in the ship. And if he needs convincing," She suddenly smiles with grim bitterness. "He made me another promise. I don't think he'll want to risk breaking another one." With that, unless Grey has more to say, she'll go speak to the kids on watch and go to get her stuff.

Grey draws in a breath, then nods, "Okay." A spark of curiosity crosses his eyes, but he doesn't follow up, not here, not now, "Be safe." And then he's off into the chaos, taking the time to change back into his Ark-made shirt and gather a few things from by the armory, and then he's off after Faolan, asking around here and there through the chaos, doing his best to avoid knots of Delinquents.

Faolan is eating, even in the middle of chaos he's taken the time to be eating, chewing on a piece of boar meat. There had been a feast, and while it might have been interrupted, that doesn't mean the food needs to go to waste. All that effort should be appreciated. He has his grounder sword in its grounder sheathe on his back, the hilt up above his right shoulder, with a grounder knife in his belt. His spear is in the armory. Too much effort to drag it around everywhere all the time. Gristle sticks to his chin, and he only half heartedly wipes it away. He spots Grey at a distance, tells by the posture and the direction he's coming for Faolan. So with a grunt he pushes himself up. He's still chewing, though.

Grey … never got any of the damned boar, and his stomach growls as he approaches the feasting ex-C. "Faolan." He glances to a pair of Delinquents screaming at one another in one direction, and a pair chasing a third in another. Holding his hands well out to his sides, he adds, "Got a minute to talk? You've heard the news so far? Contact with the Ark, they know we're alive, all that?"

"Grey," Faolan responds. "People've been talking, yeah. Layla filled me in a bit, anyway. Is it true that fucker tried to keep the radio a secret?" While he'd been running ahead with Fiona to prepare for Camron's mother's arrival. After a moment he sighs, tears off a chunk of his juicy meat and passes it to Grey. There's not that much left, but it's enough for a mouthful. FOr someone who has never really indulged in meat before, Faolan just can't get enough of the stuff. "And they'll be coming down, right?"

Grey shakes his head, "Don't know." He takes the board, throwing it into his mouth and chewing as he gestures back toward the dropship in invitation. For a few steps, he merely chews, swallows, and nods, and then he gets the words past the pork, "I talked to the Chancellor. They're dying up there. That's why they sent us down. Something went wrong. They'll be out of air in a matter of weeks."

In the distance, Fiona is walking to the dropship, having talked briefly with those at the wall. After she and Faolan ran all the way back, she'd prepped the medbay and passed out exhausted. Now hours later she's awake and more or less alert, and pausing midway to her destination, reroutes toward Grey and Faolan, thinking the former might need an assist.

"I figured," Faolan says as he accepts the invitation and follows along. "Would've been a waste of resources otherwise. Had to be desperate for them to expend a dropship, send down a pod. Do all of this. There isn't an endless supply of them to come down with." He rolls his shoulder in a shrug. Being right doesn't seem to make him particularly happy, though. He looks at Fiona when she angles to join. "When're they coming down?"

Grey leads the way past the ramp of the dropship, away from where Cole is working on the new communications shed, "Don't know. I also need to talk to Councilor Kane before…" Shaking his head, Grey backtracks, "I need to talk to Kane tonight too. He's got coordinates for a supply depot nearby. Something besides Mount Weather that might have survived." Once they're away fro the chaos and Fiona rejoins them, his voice drops, "Faolan. You haven't been to talk to the Grounders. We found out how they end wars. They meet together in a summit, but you can only get a summit if you have emissaries, and if both sides have something the other values."

"A few weeks." murmurs Fiona. "That's when they run out of air. She keeps pace with the two much taller boys, looking a bit like she was recently roughly woken.

"Haven't seen the point in talking to them," Faolan replies with a shrug. He scratches at his left forearm subconsciously. "They didn't seem to want to talk to me when I stood guard. I guess I'm not pretty like you, eh?" Or perhaps he was just staring vacantly and making absolutely no attempt at communication and that was the key difference. He blows out a quiet snort. "Okay. So.. what exactly of value do is it you've been thinking about?" A tick. "Hostages? You wanna trade hostages? Give someone of our people to stand surety for the summit?"

Grey snorts as he's called pretty, pointing up to the dark bruises where his throat and shoulder join, "I don't think she gave me this because I'm pretty, Faolan." Amusement fills his voice though, and then he shrugs, gesturing up in answer to the first question, "The technology and knowledge up there. That's what we have. And no. I want to release our prisoners, now that they know what we can offer. And I want Fiona and me, and maybe one or two more, to go with them, as emissaries. To make peace."

"You and Morgan are the most likely." Fiona chimes in. "You and he are the extreme opposite viewpoints, and I'm the meet in the middle." She's watching Faolan very carefully for his reaction.

"Sure she did," Faolan insists. "Grounder flirting. Punch you if they like you. You'll be our first.. hmm grounder pounder? Yeah. Mark my word, Grey." His tone is droll, it masks thoughtful look on his face as he runs it through. "But do we wanna give the Grounders technology? I don't know if I'd trust those people with our technology. And what's to stop them from just attacking us? Even if your lovebird means well and told you that in good faith, the one who was part of the crew that slaughtered ours, whose to say the others would honor it? Whose to say that.." suspicion and skepticism fills his voice as it trails off. He looks towards Fiona, frowning. "You're gonna say I promised I'd support your negotiation, aren't you?"

Bruises are hard to see in the nighttime, under such dark skin. So are blushes, "No. I don't think that'll be happening." Scrubbing a hand over his face, he gets down to business despite the anger flaring in his eyes and voice, "I want to give them access to technology. To medical care. I don't want to give them guns." He gestures around the chaos of the camp, "I'm in it for them, Faolan. I want my people to be safe. And they're not while we're at war with who-knows-how-many Grounders. We can't beat 'em all, Faolan. Not without guns. And training. Even then, we'd lose too many." He glances to Fiona then, "I want to do this, but I won't do it without the okay from Fiona, and you."

"That is what you said." Fiona notes with a simple shrug for Faolan. "You said that not only would you back me, you'd back me even if you thought I was wrong, because you'd hope that I wasn't. So yeah, I'm going to hold you to your word. At some point, wars have to end. We can stop this one before it really starts." She nods to Grey.

"Your people?" Faolan asks with a crooked smile as he looks Grey over. "You really bought into that whole We Are The 100 speech of yours, didn't you? Shit." He hasn't. He looks around as his eyes glance off kids he doesn't think all that highly off for the most part. Still. They're from the Ark, same as him, and that's where his loyalties lie. He grimaces. "I don't trust them. I think they're murdering savages and I suspect in a warrior culture there are gonna be factions who don't like the idea of peace. Or trading if they can take."

He looks to Fiona, grimaces, shrugs. "But alright. I don't like releasing them, but alright." The agreement is grudging, and its obvious he's only on board because he doesn't seem many better options. "I suppose its worth the roll of the dice, even if I think the odds are bad. Gotta have some hope?" But he sounds sour rather than hopeful. "I'm gonna watch 'em, though."

Grey shrugs in response to Faolan's question, straightening his shoulders and looking up at the large teen, "If these aren't my people, then who is? There's gotta be somewhere that everyone fits in." He nods at Faolan's concerns, "I'm sure there'll be someone out there just as crazy as Asher or Silas or Morgan or Cameron." There is a beat pause, and he adds sourly, "or Quinn. We'll deal with them when we have to. But even with the Ark comin' down, we can't be fightin' everyone around us. Eventually even the Ark stores'd run outta bullets." When he agrees, Grey lets out a little breath, "You're comin' too then. Alright. Grab anything you need, and let's go. I want to get out during the crazy." One hand gestures out into the chaos that afflicts the camp.

"People aren't going to be happy about us making this an, uh, executive decision," Faolan tells Grey. HE doesn't sound particularly concerned about that, just something he points out. "They've been talking about votes and such. We take the prisoners and go off to be emissaries, we might come back and find the rabble rousers have branded us untrustworthy tyrants, and whatever deal we can make'll be tossed out of spite."

Fiona looks between the two. "Alright, then. Meet you in the dropship, yeah?" She looks between the two of them, shaking her head a little. "We'll get them free and be on our way." She's starting to lift on her heels a little bit in anticipation. "Grab what you need, but don't take everything." she suggests to Faolan as Grey suggested to her earlier. As she starts walking, she can't help but add, "And they're our people." She considers. "Let's tell someone we trust, maybe? Like Cookie."

Grey nods at Faolan's words, "Yeah, they might. But even if some people don't like it, we got the biggest groups represented, right? Or we're doin' what they want." That's with a gesture out into the camp, "Not like Morgan and Cameron and the radio." That sparks his anger again, and his lips purse, on the verge of saying something else, but he nods to Fiona, "Evie. Cookie's gonna be with Morgan and Cameron tonight."

"Democracy is over rated anyway," Faolan opinions quite casually, and he might be throwing a wry look at Fiona while he says it, too. He gives one brisk nod, then he departs to collect his gear. It'll just be his spear, his water skin, some food and his leather jacket.

"As long as it's someone reasonably sane." Fiona catches the look, shooting one of her own back at Faolan before she heads to the dropship. She packs lightly as well; jacket, knife, water canteen, and some food for the road.

Grey smirks at Fiona's comment, even if Faolan's gets a much drier look, "Is any one of us really sane?" He takes with him very little as well: a canteen, some jerky, his jacket, his knife, and his dropship-rod club. And a personal item to return once they're away.

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