Day 017: Execution And Firefall
Summary: Mags Trentin is executed and an object crashes to the ground tens of kilometers away.
Date: Day Month Year
Related: The Trial of Mags Trentin; In the Nosebleed Section details what the Grounders saw of the execution
Delinquents Cameron Cassandra Kai Grey Cole Jael Quinn Natalie Layla Morgan Asher Alison Silas Silver 


Grounds, The Camp

With the removal of underbrush and a half-dozen small trees, there is now a tiny clearing around the dropship. It has begun to fill with detritus from the ship, including all of the seating, padding, and removable plates or bulkheads.

Several tents have been set up within the clearing, set close together within the confines of the surrounding trees. A small collection of weapons sits under a parachute-cloth shelter by the door of dropship, open for community use. A three-holer latrine is set up downwind of camp in the prevailing breezes, and a rough wall stretches between trees at the edge of the clearing, dropship plates and felled tree-trunks stacked up and lashed together as best as the Delinquents can manage. There is a gate at the north end, a single panel that can be rolled aside at need.

The forest immediately surrounding the camp has been cowed into near-silence, but is still vibrant and green to a people used to stark metal bulkheads all around them.

17 Days After Landing

The rains have come, and have not abated. The sky is dark, blotting out the sun and leaving a shadow-less dimness to the world. The thunder and lightning have lessened, leaving only the faintest rumbles in the distant. Most of the delinquents have been huddled in the dropship where the rain and occasional winds are less trying. Inside the dropship, at some point in the afternoon, straws were pulled for executioners. Natalie Rees pulled the short straw, and Elias quietly volunteered to be her assistant — the girl is the smallest thing in the camp compared to the tall and obviously athletic Mags.

When skies begin to darken with the coming of dusk, the camp starts to gather just outside the dropship where the grounds are mostly cleared. People are in jackets and hoods, or using bits of branches or large leaves as shelter from the rain. The atmosphere around the camp is no longer upbeat, joyful rebellion, but one of sullen and somber acceptance.

Mags has been escorted by her guards down the dropship, and her shadow can be seen just inside the doors to the cargo bay. Her hands are bound in front of her, and her hair has been tied back to leave her throat bare. She looks drawn and distant, her mouth set in a thin line and her shoulders have hunched. She looks smaller, more serious, and even a touch more grown. Is this how every delinquent looked before they were floated?

For his part, Cameron has been helping with the guarding, but now he's really had well enough of that. So he leaves the dropship and the final guarding of Mags to others, and makes his way into the crowd. He doesn't mind being wet (on the contrary, this water falling from the sky thing would be delightful if it was warmer. Alas.), but he does seem to want some comfort. His eyes flicker over the people, looking for someone, and it would likely be a terrible shock who that person who he's looking for is.

Seventeen days have elapsed since eighteen year-old Cassandra's arrival on Earth, and it shows: the scrawny Farm Station girl's clothes are muddy, at her hip is a machete, a Grounder-made bag is strapped across her torso, and since last night, her Earth Monitoring bracelet has disappeared from her wrist. After being falsely accused for the murder of Evie Williams, she has come to witness the execution of the real culprit, but there is no joy on her face over the decision reached. She was vocal on the night of Mags Trentin's arrest that she was against the 100 floating their own, no matter the crime, but has mellowed considerably since. She was not at the trial, and abstained for voting both on the the double-delinquent's guilt and her chosen punishment. Now Cassie sits apart from the rest, on an elevated section of the inner Wall Walk, to spectate the sepulchral affair from a bird's eye view while the rain billows and knots her hair into a long, matted black veil.

Kai didn't opt to lead Mags out this time, but the lean ex-C is there, alright. She'd be the one in the back, standing in the doorway of the dropship with a blanket wrapped bundle in her arms and an expression of flat calm as she watches the proceedings from the back.

Changing in a tent is never any fun, but it's even less fun in a rainstorm. Still, Grey persevered, and now his newly-claimed fatigue jacket is starting to get soaked as he makes his way toward the chosen execution ground. His steel-rod baton is slung over one shoulder, the restraint-harness bandoleer already soaked. His head and face are soaked by the rain, Guard-issue boots squishing in the mud. With a hard, grim face, he slips through the crowd, up toward the front, where he can look over the prepped noose of seat harnesses. He glances aside at the rain-soaked protest where the votes were tallied, grunting once and shaking his head.

Cole doesn't want to be, but he is anyways. Because for all of his bluster, he's still thinks he should be watching this charade of a spectacle. The man looks haggard, like he hasn't slept very well in the last couple of night. There are bags under his eyes, and every single person he looks to is one of suspicion and caution. So he stays the hell away from just about everyone, keeping his back to the wall off the side, solitary and isolated. Just the way he prefers it.

As she was for the trial, Jael starts out crouched along the wall of the dropship, fairly close to the ramp and making herself small. She's got herself tucked into her jacket but she's still pretty soaked, given she doesn't have a hood and isn't trying to hide beneath anything. Watching, silent, her expression more attentive than anything else. Alert. The crowd is scanned, and then scanned again, body language and postures getting particular note. Yeah.

Strangely absent during the trial itself, Quinn shows up to the execution, the rain barely helping wash away some of the built of dirt and mud that has collected on her clothes and hands since they landed. There's signs that she tried scrubbing a lot of it off, but with minimal success. She stands a bit apart from the others, her arms crossed over her chest, expression grim.

Natalie stands there. The rain, since this is not Spain, does not fall neatly on the plain. Or at least not on Natalie, who manages in every way to look in every way like someone who is not flattered by standing in the rain. Her dark ponytail is soaked through and plastered to her face. Now and again, she takes off her glasses and cleans off the slightly fogged lenses. It's the kind of errand you'd expect to do in Purgatory: repetitive without gains. Her attention, when not managing the state of her glasses, is turned on Mags with a green-around-the-gills, seasick air of distasteful reluctance. It would be more comfortable to look at the pinecone on the ground for her but that's not really the point, is it?

Layla had elected to show her face at the execution as well, for reasons that were entirely her own. She, too, is towards the back of the crowd. There's no love in the small, slim young woman for large groups of people during the best of times, it must be said. It couldn't be more miserable, now, either, what with the rain. Which Layla would have otherwise loved but had since decided that she hated being cold with a passion. There's a snort that blows a few droplets from the tip of her nose when she spies Natalie, then a shake of her head and a folding of her arms.

Morgan is waiting to one side of the ramp when people start coming out. He's left his shirt and jacket in the dropship since he dries out a lot more quickly than clothing does. He's got his sword at his waist though since there's no way in hell he's doing without it all things considered. Seeing Cam make his way toward the crowd, he moves to intercept and slips and arm around his waist. "Do we really need to make this public?" It's pretty rhetorical and he just shakes his head.

"We voted. We should at least watch and see what the result of our voting is." Cameron's voice is serious and sober, but he does lean into Morgan and rest his head on the other man's shoulder, his arm going around his waist in return. He sighs softly, "Its a gross spectacle but having people pretend its not happening is more gross."

Asher had been off in the woods with Steak and New Boots…basically most of the time. Practicing for when he leaves for good, no doubt. Still, the spectacle of an execution is enough to draw him out into a public setting. Steak and New Boots has already been tied up by Asher's tent and on his way towards the Wall Walk, having seen Cassandra there, he passes by Quinn. He nods to her, and motions up to the wall walk before continuing on. She can either come hang out with him and Cass, aka The Cool Kids, or not. He climbs up to the wall walk and moves over to sit down next to Cassandra. "Yo." he offers by way of greeting.

Alison makes her way past Kai at the entrance, looking at the cadet. "Nice spot." She mutters somberly at the other girl, stepping carefully down and leaning against the ship in the lee side of the wind. Should Cole look up, he will get a nod. She has a camo-blouse covering her head and body.

Natalie's reaction to drawing the short straw has Elias glancing over at the mousy girl. Volunteering for this seems to have unsettled him as well, but his jaw tightens and he carries on. The noose and length of rope are taken from the person who tied it, whomever that might be. Elias isn't paying attention to who rather than what at the moment and his eyes are currently busy studying the noose with sullen awe. Keeping the rope coiled in one hand and the noose in the other, he remains entirely silent. He's avoiding any looks from others and instead gets to work. The noose is gripped more tightly in his hands as he makes his way towards the tree that was chosen for a low-hanging and sturdy branch. Once he arrives, he and whoever else might be assisting him unwind the rope and throw the noose up and over the branch so that it drapes over it.

"Proof that we have laws here on Earth." Grey's response to Morgan gets a little water-logged at the end, and he wipes his face down, blowing out a mist of water. "Not just for us, either." He looks to Elias and Natalie, "One of you want to make it official?" He wipes his face down again in the midst of his question, "Readin' the charge, the verdict, the sentence?"

Mags glances sidelong to Elias from her spot still just inside the dropship, and her jaw sets at the sight of the noose and rope. There is a small flash of something in her eyes — fear, perhaps, or even anxiety. Her shoulders are tight, fingers flexing and loosening within her bindings. She glances over at Grey, and she snorts. "Yeah, sure… read on. Let's hear all about it."

Quinn glances over at Asher when he passes, then up towards where indicated. She doesn't follow right away, though, turning her attention back towards the rest, watching for a split second before she turns to move towards the wall walk herself.

"Fuckin joke." mutter Cole, having nothing better to say at the moment.

Whether the rumours about Asher and Cassandra are true or not — she sure acts like it. Instinctively, when he climbs on up to the narrow section of parapet she's claimed for herself, she shuffles on over and moves to lean her back against his shoulder. This is a win-win situation, because it's freezing cold even without the situation at hand making her skin crawl, and now she might be less so. "Pretty sure floating is more humane than this bullshit," she murmurs in a low voice. Seeing a certain blonde en-route, she raises a hand and upnods Quinn.

Kai gives the ghost of a smile for Alison's remark as she passes that fades almost as soon as it appears. Staying dry is awesome. But that doesn't mean she's terribly excited about what's happening out on the grounds. It's Elias that her eyes keep returning to like she can't quite believe the guy volunteered for that.

Cameron stares at the rope, wincing, shaking his head slightly, "See I was thinking someone was going to cut her throat. Quick and clean." He might have an odd definition of clean, and he then murmurs quietly, to Morgan "Ugh, makes me wish I would have let someone sneak in and get it over with last night."

Natalie shifts her body weight in a fidget, her fingers flexing as a nervous tick that even she seems aware of enough to spur her hands into action. The barrel that had been scavenged for this opposite of auspicious occasion has been left under a tree, trying to shield it from being less soaked. Less slippery. Or at least, that's the sort of small threads of humanity you flail for in this situation— right?

Nat looks over at Elias and grimaces through a hard swallow, before she plods over to the barrel. Her hands clamp down on the rim and lift with what seems to be all her meager body weight to bring it to the appointed spot. There were no spots in the before, when people were just floated. They were there and then they weren't. Layla's observation of Natalie steals her attention even as she's dragging it over. Setting it up before Mags, she grimaces again and makes herself look Mag in the face by the strain in her neck muscles. "I tried… to… make it not… slippery for you," she offers, quietly. Awesome?

Resting her forearms against her legs, Jael stays in her crouch; while there's certainly the occasional glance for the happening of the hour, the bulk of her attention is staying on everyone else, from those up on the wall to the denser cluster of those closer. She's still quiet, watching, waiting.

Morgan's frown just increases as he sees what Elias is doing. "Hanging." he mutters and shakes his head. "Barbaric. I'd do it myself." he says in response to Cam. "Once the carotid is cut they pass out in seconds." The voice of experience.

Rarely does Asher find himself agreeing with Cameron of late, but apparently he is of the same mind, "A fuckin' hangin'?" he mutters back at Cassandra. "Fuck that's brutal. I could have just slit her throat real quick. Or snapped her neck. This woulda been done in seconds." Dangerous? Yes. Aggressive? Yes. Vicious? Also yes. Lacking in a moral code? Apparently not. As to Cassandra leaning against him? Asher seems totally cool with that bit of intimacy, not moving away from her.

It's just about now that Silas makes his way into the Grounds from the gate- looking considerably less hung over. For anyone who'd have been paying attention up on the walls, he was sitting out there on the other side for a while. When he comes into the grounds wet from having forgotten to grab some description of a coat, his brows furrow somewhat as he spots the small assembly for the convicted's hanging. His right hand comes along, taking in a slow breath before he sighs, he looks over to Elias' and eyes the noose in his hands for a moment before he simply moves to settle into one of the 'Kill her!' crowds and awaiting the proceedings.

It's not that Layla was trying to be scornful of Natalie; it was that she was ill-suited to the task. It seemed as if the least among them had been chosen to stain their hands needlessly, when they had far more bloodthirsty individuals peppered through out their grand little community. Asher, being an obvious choice, but even she would have had no qualms with doing things quick and clean. Oh no, instead they'd watch the bitch flail, and gag, and choke. Let's not forget how she'll be more than likely to piss and/or shit herself. Talk about a right spectacle. And yet Layla didn't leave.

Quinn moves to where Cassandra and Asher are sitting, crouching down next to them in a free space, her forearms resting on her knees. "Not sure I agree with the idea of a hanging, either…Seems…more like a spectacle. What if the neck doesn't break and she chokes to death?"

Mags has been lead out, moving with a kind of heavy gait of someone who definitely doesn't want to be walking in a certain direction, but definitely feels like she has no choice in the matter. She flexes her wrists now and then as if testing the bindings. Then she shoots a dirty look toward Natalie at her comment about slippery, but she says nothing in regards to it.

In the crowds, some start to stir uneasily, some of them begin to shout from the black, "Just float her already!"

It's tough for Cassandra to grasp moral concepts in the midst of this, while Asher and Morgan go through graphic descriptions of ways to kill people. In particular, she gives her fellow spectator on the Wall Walk a funny look, then diverts her gaze back to Mags' exposed throat, shivering. "She isn't even eighteen yet," the supposed sociopath mutters bitterly. "She's, what, fifteen? Even the Ark doesn't float fifteen year-olds." Her voice is tough to make out above the crowd, the latter half of her words drowned out by the howling winds and cries of Just float her already! Eyeing Quinn, she asks, "You two learn anything about who hired her?"

Kai's attention shifts over the crowd, back towards Natalie and Mags and Elias by default. She's staying where she is. In the door. With the ominous stiff blanket in her hands. Despite this the lean against the doorframe of the ship is.. well, as casual as it gets with her. Shaking her head vaguely to herself.

Grey glances over to Morgan and Cameron, shaking his head, "You'd rather have a spray of blood everywhere? How's that more clean? Everything says," that's right, he's never seen a hanging himself, "that this is humane and quick, as long as the neck snaps, and the best way to do that's a sudden drop." He gestures over to the barrel.

"That 'as long as' is an iffy statement and what bothers me, Grey." Cameron shakes his head slightly, "Cut the neck and she's dead in seconds and there's blood on the dirt. Fortunately, like, rain." But he shrugs. He's not going to make a big argument about it, but he does look disturbed that this is the way its going.

"Then we get to watch her choke to death." Asher replies to Quinn with a frown. And at that point, maybe someone just needs to put her out of her misery quick. When someone shouts about floating her, Asher's gaze flicks around the crowd, looking for who said that. He'll probably give them an ass kicking later. He shakes his head at Cassandra, "No, they don't…But I doubt she'd have gotten a pardon." Plus she was here, which means she was already an offender. It's hard to find good moral footing on this issue. "Still, this is fucking bullshit."

"And everyone here has so much experience in this that you can guarantee her neck breaks?" Morgan asks with a snort. "In such a short fall too." More quietly, he murmurs "Bet there are some assholes making bets."

"Fuckin animals." Cole growls from his spot near the wall, fists into balls. It looks like the man is deciding something inwardly, like this one event is going to make or break something particularly important to him. Almost like he's the one that's going to executed.

It's not that Natalie expected the crowd to be polite and attentive to what's happening. There are people in the back yelling and the mood is turning sour quickly. She's trying to keep focus on Mags, despite the understandable dagger looks but the distinctive comments in the crowd are pulling her attention. Her gaze wobbles in its directness at Mags as she stares at her through slightly fogged glasses in a quietly apologetic moment. But then, Elias is struggling with the set-up of the rope. The lead on the tie-off has been left too long. Stepping away from the barrel, Natalie sidles around the barrel and Mags, reaching into the pocket of utility pants to pull out a small knife. "Here," she says green-gilled reluctance for the drawn out technical difficulties, as she hands the knife over to Elias.

<FS3> Cassandra rolls Thrown: Failure.

A tiny stone goes sailing through the air from the Wall Walk, hitting a short delinquent in the back of the head. "Ow!" the boy cries, rubbing his nape and turning around to squint and figure out who threw it. The culprit, Cassandra, is sitting on the parapet, and she looks vaguely disappointed. Clearly, this is not the person she was aiming to hit. Her target? Well, by sheer coincidence, it seems that her fingers just happened to flick that speck of sharp rock at the exact moment when Cameron piped up with yet more graphic descriptions of neck-cutting. She's staring at him and Grey with a dispassionate, widely drawn mouth, silently urging them to shut up. The topic they're debating has her looking vaguely sick, for someone who's actually killed two Grounders on the field of battle.

Mags' expression changes slightly as Elias and Natalie go about the business of dealing with the rope. Something about what they are doing draws her brows down in a worried expression.

"Uh huh." Quinn agrees, frowning a moment at what's happening down below, then she shakes her head before starting to stand up once more. She doesn't move away, and she doesn't say anything, just stands and glares.

The comments from the audience are mostly ignored by Elias. With his head down and avoiding eye contact, he works to tie the rope off quickly around the base of the tree. It takes a few moments and he doesn't seem to be in a hurry to do this. At all. There is a glance cast to Natalie then as he makes his way back to the noose to inspect it. If this is to be done, it must be done humanely, after all. At Natalie's approach, he reaches out for her knife and gives her a somber nod. Finally, the death machine is prepared.

<FS3> Elias rolls Medicine+1: Success.
<FS3> Elias rolls Melee: Good Success.

Elias looks to Grey and gives a shake of his head to the other young man. "How about you get someone else to do it," he suggests quietly in a hoarse tone. Taking Mags by the arm then, he leads her over towards where the stump is. "I'm sorry, Mags," he speaks quietly to her. "I'm so sorry." The knife is still held in his hand, blade out, though and, as he looks like he's about to fit the noose to her neck, he instead finds the carotid artery like Natalia taught him. "I promised quick." The blade of the knife is jabbed into the artery before he draws it inward, his eyes closing in a wince as he does so. He collapses backwards with the body then, holding her with her back to him and them both seated on the ground. Viscous, red ichor floods from the wound over his hand as he sits there, keeping his eyes closed as tightly as he can.

Grey shrugs at Morgan's question, "Should we have voted on this too?" Instead, he just frowns up at the proceedings, his lips pursed tightly together. He leans forward slightly, as if silently urging the two doing the executing to get on with it, then looks back over his shoulder to the restless, wet, sullen crowd of Delinquents. The trio up on the wallwalk draw his gaze, and he frowns for a long moment, then shakes his head and looks to the front of the gathering again. At Elias' request, he nods, facing the crowd and raising his voice to call out, "For the murder of Evie Williams in cold blood, the camp has judged Mags Trentin guilty, and sentenced her to death." This also means that he doesn't see the slicing of her throat, so he has no chance or opportunity to protest the method of death… if he even would have.

Under pursed lips, Silas stares up at the hanging tree. For a good few seconds, it looks like whatever enthusiasm he had for her execution might've been lost in the sight of the assembly. He only seems to notice people shouting out float her when the yells come up a few time, offering a glance over his shoulder back towards one of the people who yelled before he looks forward again towards Mags. Frowning, Silas' left hand anxiously comes over to rub the rough pommel of the grounder sword at his hip as he takes in a few deep breaths to calm himself as he furrows his brows as he watches Elias' slice Mags throat with a pale face and clenched jaw.

Well, there was that, at least. Someone doing what needed doing. Layla silently applauded Elias' bravery, even if she wondered what it might to do the tall youth in the long run. And she watches, unblinking, expression empty as a lizard's, as Mags' lifeblood pours out. It's only proper to see things through to their bitter red end, is it not? Yes. Proper indeed.

Oh fuck. The sudden change in executioners, and method, actually lures Kai out into the rain without her quite meaning to step out, and then equally quickly the lean, short-haired girl steps back into her spot again, even if she can't help but stare out with the grimmest expression possible etched on her face.

<FS3> Cameron rolls Resolve: Success.
<FS3> Cassandra rolls Resolve: Success.
<FS3> Elias rolls Resolve: Success.
<FS3> Asher rolls Resolve: Good Success.
<FS3> Kai rolls Rescolve: Failure.
<FS3> Grey rolls Resolve: Good Success.
<FS3> Alison rolls Resolve: Good Success.
<FS3> Jael rolls Resolve: Success.
<FS3> Silas rolls Resolve: Good Success.

Pushing up from her crouch, Jael is watching the proceedings a little more intently; her eyes follow Elias for a moment, and her eyes are on Mags as the knife goes in. The young woman's cheeks pale, her hands curling into fists at her sides, and…well, she just stares, watching. Watches the blood, watching Mags's face, watching the girl die.

Cameron doesn't allow his eyes to shift off of Mags, not for a second; he doesn't even blink as he takes in the full horror of watching someone be executed, partly because of his own vote. He does tighten his arm around Morgan, and tighten clenches his jaw a bit, and givess a small but firm nod towards Elias. "Thank you, Eli." He keeps his cool, but there's a tension in him.

When Quinn stands, Cassandra looks up towards her. "Don't do anything stupid," she tries to warn her, but before the blonde ex-C has the chance to, suddenly a thump draws Cassie's attention back down to the ground. There is Elias, and there is Mags. There is blood. She stares for a moment, lips drawn in a grim line, then turns to scrunch up her eyes and hold her breath.

Natalie drops to her knees, immediately as Elias takes the bleeding out Mag down to the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…," she repeats in a quiet mantra that's probably meant to be reassuring but is too distraught around the edges. Her hand reaches for one of Mag's trying to hold it in comfort, as she makes her exit. Her thorougly fogged glasses make the crowd beyond them much harder to see but the reactions are audible.

"No, you should have just picked a method that wasn't out of some old video." Morgan retorts. He's as surprised as everyone else when Elias decides to act on his own. But once the act is done, he's nodding approvingly. "Good for you, Elias."

In truly typical Asher fashion, the slitting of the throat elicits basically no reaction from him at all. He just stares in silence at it. His gaze flickers to Quinn and he frowns, "You do something stupid, just let me know first so I can pitc in." Different advice than Cass…Probably worse advice too. His gaze flickers to Cassandra, and he rests a hand on her shoulder, giving a single squeeze. That is quite and epic show of support.

"Doesn't look like I have to." Quinn replies, glancing down at Cassandra before she looks back towards Mags and Elias, she tucks her hands into her pockets, shaking her head just a moment. "Messy…but fast…." It's spoken with a small tone of approval.

Mags is looking at Elias in confusion when he starts to apologize. She doesn't understand, that much is clear. She parts her lips, about to say something, but then her eyes fly open wide. She stands there for a moment, absolutely in shock as she feels the prickle of pain as the skin and arteries split. Her shoulders flex as if she is trying to reach for her own throat, but her hands are behind her back, making it impossible. Elias's cut is not as deep as it should have been, but the blood flows quickly. She begins to drop, legs weakening. She goes unconscious in two short minutes, but it is the longest one-hundred and twenty seconds some have ever experienced. She is looking up at Elias, her dark eyes steadily staring into his own until the darkness starts to swim, and her eyes close.

Kai can't watch it all. Nope. The lean ex-C with the blanket wrapped rifle can't do it. She first backs up another step, but for some reason staying in the ship just is even worse. She abandons post entirely, jumping off the side of the ramp and stalking towards the camp gate hastily without looking in the direction of the blood and the dying girl. Screw the rain and the thunder and everything else.. right now she's just got to get /out/.

"Fuck this place." Cole remarks, unable to look away at the display and the spray of blood that follows after it. He pales slightly, but his face just hardens, like some had just been lost from the mechanic that he can never reclaim. Gritting his teeth, he moves, suddenly tearing off his coat and prying at the wristband on his arm with his tire iron. With a grunt and a bit of exertion he tears the thing off his limb, ignoring the blood running down his wrist. "Fuck this place. Eye for an eye my goddamn ass."

Mags slips into unconsciousness, but her brain hasn't died yet. Her body begins to convulse in twitches. Bubbles begin to form at the throat, causing the thick blood to sputter. Her brain is desperately trying to get her to breathe to provide more oxygen to her body, so she is gasping and fighting for a deep inhale that will never really succeed to bring more oxygen to her brain. Her feet begin to spasm, thudding up against whatever may be in their path. It takes five minutes for Mags's brain to finally die, and for her body to still. By then, blood soaks the ground outside the dropship, soaks Elias's clothes and Natalie's shoes. Her eyelids are just barely open, and the dark brown of her irises can just be seen through the thickness of her lashes.

There's no movement for a long moment as Elias sits there on the ground with the knife still in hand and in her neck as she bleeds out. It's only when she stops moving completely that he does. With the same grim determination in his features, he takes the knife away and lets it drop to the ground. The rain makes the flow of blood into red rivulets along the ground. As he moves, he eases the body of Mags back to lay flat on the ground and makes sure to close her eyes. His jaw is clenched as he gets to his feet once again. There is a sway to that first step. "Somebody get the radio online in the dropship," he speaks hoarsely.

Grey turns back as the attention sharpens behind him, looking up… and not finding what he expects. He looks down into the mud, to where Elias is cradling the slowly-fading Mags. His eyes tighten, his lips purse, and he reaches up to wipe the rain from his face once more. A little shiver runs down his spine — if anyone asked, he would lie, claim it was a cold trickle of rainwater. The ex-C swallows, then mumbles, "It's done." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kai head off, curiosity touching his gaze for a moment, and then he shakes it off, looking down at the mud at his feet before he steps forward, offering Elias a hand up as the other teen rises, "From what I heard, they've been trying. No response."

If it were over quickly, Cassandra might not have to watch: but there are five long minutes to watch Mags bleed out. With Asher's squeeze at her shoulder, she turns to stare again, furrowing her brow, as the younger teenager falls to her knees. There is, oddly enough, something strangely familiar to the Earth Skills expert about watching the suffering in the girl's wide, dark eyes — she's seen it before. She's seen it in the deer and boar she's helped bring down, in a wriggling fish out of the water with a hook in its mouth, presented to her by a Grounder. She hangs onto that, her muscles stiffening, and it helps her gaze harden. It's just the way of the world, isn't it? It's the food chain, or something. Even this wasn't as brutal as Evie's death likely was when a rock caved in her skull. Cassie glances between Asher and Quinn, and even down to Cole as he tears off his bracelet.

A long five minutes. But it could have been longer. Could have been even crueler, because the touch of death is never gentle. Layla wasn't out to fool herself. One has to be realistic about these things. About that time it gets into her head that she ought to go see how Cole was doing, which was…right about the time he rips his bracelet off. There's a slight frown, but the young woman decides to follow after him at any rate.

The hard rain begins to tail off, almost as if the execution of Mags Trentin were a signal to the universe, quickly fading away to a bare sprinkle.

Grumbling lowly at Quinn, Asher states flatly, "Should have snapped her neck. Bleeding out his not quick." Which is exemplified by the fact that it takes her minutes to die. Several minutes. At least it was less painful than strangling. This was worse for them than it was for her. He clenches and unclenches his fists, glancing to Cassandra, then to Quinn, "I feel like hitting someone…Suggestions?" Or getting drunk. He'd do that too. Maybe both.

Eyes lifting away from the spectacle and locking on Cole, Jael watches him from her spot near the dropship. A brief frown, and she's turning her eyes back to Mags just in time to see the twitching and convulsing start. Oh, that's…special. She watches for a while before she finally does have to look away, her feet carrying her at the edges of the crowd as she does finally does start over in his direction.

Morgan's arm tightens around Cam but he doesn't feel the need to watch the body. "At least it's over." For now. Looking around, he makes note of how different people are reacting.

Alison takes a thoughtful breath, swallowing as she watches the blood flow. There is a grimace and a nod. A glance between Natalie and Elias, then back to Mags. A hand raises to cover her mouth, bile rising enough to burn, but it is stilled. She is still and silent, eyes locked on the final struggles as the murderer slips into oblivion. Then she starts to move, after Mags' movement ends for the last time. The red haired woman walks back towards the drop-ship, glancing towards Cole once more. Eyes that were thinning, weary and tired snap open, she breaks into a dash towards Cole. "What? Medic!" She calls out, eyes on the new display.

Natalie remains, her hand holding the now unaware Mag even as her blood spreads and she dies an uneasy death. The thing she and Elias were trying to avoid. "It's okay. You can let go. Let go. It's okay. I'm sorry. It's okay. I'm sorry," she states, the order of both phrases stating static and then tripping slightly over themselves. Her tone is trying to be soothing, reassuring to the person seeing their way out, whether or not she can hear them. Elias now shifting to his feet, seems to shift her reassurances a little. She reaches up a free, now bloody hand to swipe at the fog on her glasses. It just leaves a streak of Mag's blood there now instead. "You're not alone," she informs Mags, in distraught, gentle offered cold comfort. "You're not alone." If this was important to Mags— dying alone — it's not clear to Natalie but it seems to be at least something important to her.

"Yeah…" Quinn replies, glancing at Asher, then down to Cassandra before she reaches for the bracelet around her wrist, twisting it in place, "You know where Silver is? She's the one that can get these off, right?" It's not spoken with any kind of emotion to it, just dispassionate.

"Deer die the same way," Cassandra murmurs out loud to Asher and Quinn, cementing the fact that she's suddenly okay with this, or pretending to be — compartmentalising. Mags is dead, and now she's not a person, but a body. A corpse. An object. The living, breathing girl stares for a moment longer before turning her eyes away again and letting out a breath. "Silver'll be in the Tech Tent. I went this morning." She wraps the fingers of her left hand against her right wrist, where the skin is read and swollen, a series of small puncture wounds encircling it. "Won't hurt if she does it. She can use the bracelet if you let her do it. Won't damage it."

As the throes of Mags death begins, Silas lets out a shaky breath before closing his eyes as he takes in a breath and lets it back out through his teeth. Reassuring himself with quiet murmurs of necessity and survival, Silas brings his hand from the pommel of his weapon to wipe away at the rain running down his face. The yell for a medic from Alison causes for a bit of a jump from Silas, who looks around before simply spotting Cole and the blood that flows from having forced off his bracelet. "I guess that's starting…" he says, before he looks down and towards his own with a squint, "Makes sense." he says before looking away as he begins to quietly step out from the crowd, eyeing for a good spot to sit down at. "This really isn't fun anymore."

"Hurt when she did it to me." Asher notes with a smirk. Then again, that was on Day 1, he was the first one to get that fucker off of him as far as he knows. "So you're welcome for when it doesn't hurt." He looks to Quinn and hrms quietly, then back out at the crowd. Once more he's looking for the kids who called for her to get floated. Sure, there were a lot, but he has his eye on a few of them.

Cameron shakes his head slightly, his expression grim, and finally looks away, turning to Morgan and lifting his arms up to wrap around the other man and just hold him for a moment. Or ten.

What a time for the rain to stop. Elias looks down at his blood-drenched clothing and just blinks. Up on his feet now, he reacts belatedly to Natalie. "You did good," he tells her, fairly blankly. While it took a lot longer than he expected and he looks all the more haunted for it, he just stands where he is for the time being. Soaked in blood and rain then, Elias starts walking back towards the dropship wearily. He's in a daze at the moment, perhaps trying to decide exactly how he's going to get all of the blood off of himself. Here stands Elias, looking like a scene from SAW.

The bracelet of Cole's gets thrown at Cassandra's feet. "There. You wanted it so fuckin badly." he snarls at her, looking less human suddenly, as if his gaze would strike her down on the spot. "/Take/ it." And there's a long moment where he just stares, until he walks away out of the camp, all but ignoring anyone else who decides to try and stop him. He's still got that tire iron of his.

A brightness starts to spread through the dark clouds above, but it does not flicker and flash like lightning, it does not begin at the horizon like the moon, and it is hot and ruddy, not silvered and cool.

And then Cole see /that/ in the sky, and he's bolting, running off.

Grey nods to Natalie as she attempts to comfort Elias too, if that's really what the Ex-C is doing with the hand up, "I'll see she's buried with the rest. She'll still be home. With the rest of the people we lost." He looks up as the rain begins to tail off, wiping his face off one final time. The spread of light causes him to tilt his head slightly to one side, frowning up in confusion.

For all that she does start moving for Cole, he's turning to go and someone else is actually running to catch him, so Jael stops, turning to look over the others and…well, the sky changes, her chin lifting as she stares. "Oh, shit."

From where she's leaning against Asher on the narrow Wall Walk parapet, Cassandra perks her attention down to Cole and raises both her eyebrows as he hurls his bracelet at her feet, taken aback. She doesn't move to take it — it's damaged goods, anyway — but she does stare with a bemused expression for a moment longer, then turns askance to Quinn. "What did I do?" she asks her friend. (Friend? Well, they did kiss, which tends to bring people together.) Because clearly, this was all her fault.

"Well…" Quinn starts, then pauses when something comes streaking across the sky, "Fuck…" She then glances at Cassandra, "No idea…he's always mad though…so not entirely sure what about this time."

Morgan seems happy to just hold Cam but as the sky starts to lighten, he glances up and it turns into a full fledged, long look. "What perfect timing. I wonder where they're going to land. And are they the good guys or the bad guys?" Is there a difference?

The spread of light does catch Elias' attention after a fashion, though it's more for all of the noise that everyone else seems to be making about it. Looking up, he watches the streak across the sky with squinted eyes and just blinks. He needed to focus on something and that something is evidently tearing across the sky. He does little else than just watch for the moment, though.

The executions aside, Ash was at least feeling comfortable on the wall walk. He watches Cole as he hurls the bracelet at Cassandra's feet and arches a brow. Weird? Sure. But not worth any further action. He smirks a bit and shakes his head. He was going to go pick a fight and shit. And then the clouds break and there is a streak across the sky. He echoes Quinn, "Well…." he starts a moment after her, "Fuck…" he says almost in unison with the girl. "Time for me to start packing…" Or time to get a gun, and kill whoever is in that pod.

Cameron is being hugged, and for the moment, he needs it. But, there's light, so he's cocking his head up again, and leaning back a little, "Let's hope good guys. And everyone get armed and ready in case bad guys." BUt he doesn't seem to want to let go quite yet. A girl bleeding out isn't the same as a deer bleeding out.

Alison slows up as Cole turns and bolts, a frown. Then the sky lights up, her hand covers her face and she looks upwards, trying to locate the center point of the light. "Damn." She points, cause that is what you do, even if everybody inevitably sees it. "Track it!" She squeals excitedly.

Cassandra raises her gaze skywards when Quinn and Asher draw her attention to the ruddy blaze hurtling through the sky towards the Earth. It's quite a sensation to be in a Dropship when it makes its landing; it's quite different when you see one landing, and this is the first time she's done that. "Go see Silver quickly. We'll wait for you," she tells her friend. (Yep, definitely friend, it seems. Why else would friendless and unfriendly Boner wait for anyone?) She freely speaks on Asher's behalf, too.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the blaze behind the clouds brightens, spreading until it seems at least the size of the hidden moon. The still-falling rain begins to take on the red-gold tinge of the light beyond the clouds, brightening the gathering dusk. Abruptly, a fist of light and flame punches through the high clouds, plunging toward the dark landscape below at a speed utterly different from the near-lazy spreading of the light behind the clouds that presaged it. What was previously a simple light is now an assault of sound and brilliance, scattering off a million raindrops and nearly causing the air to shiver.

There's blood everywhere and something falling from the sky. Elias just gives a shake of his head and starts wandering again back towards the exit of the camp and towards the river so that he might be able to get some of the ichor rinsed from his clothing at least. Let the rest of them deal with lights in the sky. Already, he's wiping the blood from his shaking hands as he walks along.

"I'll see if she's there and can get it off." Quinn replies, frowning very hard at the entire thing, shaking her head before she starts to climb back down off the wall walk to start moving through the camp towards the tech tent.

Natalie is on the ground, still holding Mag's hand even if it can't hold back. She's stopped talking, but seems intent on staying till the bitter end of Mag's remains finally being taken away. The object falling from the sky is hard to perceive through her fogged glasses but even the blind can see the flash that follows. Natalie flinches, before executing a mini-duck and cover even if she's already on the ground and there's nothing to cover with. Her free hand grabs the back of her neck, shielding the base of her skull.

Silas quietly stops in his search for someplace to sit. He looks up and quietly watches the light as it spreads through the clouds. Silas squints under the bright light in comparison to the dark clouds, a lopsided frown playing on his lips as he watches the light grow brighter and overwhelming before it pierces the clouds as it makes its rather brilliant descent. The gentle shaking he feels from the sheer force of the object as it comes flying down causes Silas to adjust his footing slightly as he watches it, looking down to his bracelet briefly before staring back up at the sky.

That's certainly a wide variety of reactions from the crowd around Grey, and he looks over to Natalie a moment, "I'll be back. Promise." Because there are a lot of people staring at the sky, and so Grey is headed up to the dropship ramp and the carefully-bundled items inside the door. If there's going to be some sort of riot, he definitely wants to be between the rioters and the rifles. The sudden explosion of sound and fire from the sky causes him to flinch some, stopped halfway up the ramp and craning around the bulk of the dropship to see the falling object, tension causing him to clench his jaw as he watches the flaming spear hurtle earthwards.

The thing falling from the sky is watched for a few long moments before Jael breathes out another sigh. There's a long glance around before she shrugs to herself, moving over to snag herself a knife from the communal pile, yep. Then she's padding in the direction of the gate, shoving her hands into her pockets and waiting there, watching the others. She won't go bolting out alone. Yet, at least.

"Alright, hurry up. Meet at my tent, I gotta make sure Steak and New Boots doesn't spook." Asher states quietly. Plus he doesn't want someone trying to run off with his horse. Oh, and most of his weapons are stashed in his tent. He looks to Cass, "Let's head down there. There's likely to be some sort of group gettin together to go see who came down."

Morgan just stands there staring at the sky. "Is that going a little fast?" he wonders. He's never been on the outside looking in, so to speak. "When do they start to slow down?"

Stepping away from Morgan finally, reluctantly, "I don't know, Mom's didn't seem to slow down until way too late, so I'm thinking they aren't really very good at this re-entry business, which by the way, I think should have been a priority during planning. Granted, they didn't completely fuck up our re-entry."

Passing by one of the tents and spotting a rain water container, he remembers that yes: they did do that. Elias makes his way over to one of the medium-sized containers and lifts it up to dump it over his head. Both hands scrub together fervently to try to get more of the blood rinsed away. Shaking still both from the cold water and for what just transpired, he looks up towards the falling…dropship? Morgan's question does give him a new thing to focus on, but he doesn't speak up in answer.

One of the Delinquents near Morgan murmurs hopefully, "…any minute now… we didn't hit retros until right before impact. Retros then parachute…"

"Fuck that," Cassandra tells Asher in a droll tone of voice. She sits up, the heels of her hands still clinging to the edge of the parapet, before she pushes off and leaps back down to the ground. From below, she tilts her chin up towards him. "I'm not going racing towards the maniacs who are itching to conquer and float us all. That's not what you're planning to do, is it?"

Alison begins to track the target, reading the signs, waiting for the chain of events that should stop the drop-ship. She stats to wince, then she starts to move towards the delinquent's ship, slowly at first.

Quinn's moving quickly, but calmly towards the tech tent. She ducks inside, but isn't there for long before she steps back out to move towards the dropship, jogging up the ramp to duck through the entrance.

"You going out alone, Dwarf?" Asks Silas as he quietly begins over towards the gate himself as he quietly wraps his hand around the hilt of his sword and pulls it out to let it hang at his side. Silas stares at Jael for a moment or two before he looks out and beyond the gate. "But then again, you said you're slightly taller than a dwarf… So what should I call you then? A goblin?" he asks with a bit of humor. Somewhat forced, as if he's trying to lighten the mood slightly as he looks over to Jael with a quirked right brow. "In any case, you shouldn't go alone." he says with a shrug. "Mind if I tag along if you go investigating? I'm probably heading the same way anyways." he says, letting his free hand come over to scratch the back of his neck.

There is a massive flash of light as the descending ball of flame strikes the ground to the east, tens of kilometers away. No blaze of retro rockets precedes the explosion, no sudden slowing of a parachute like the previous descents from the sky. Just kinetic annihilation.

Grey glances to Quinn as the other ex-C arrives at the rifles just about as he does, gathering one up, checking that there's a loaded mag already in place, and then covering it up with a blanket again. "Don't think we'll need these to keep the crowd quiet, but you never know." And then the inside of the dropship lights up, and Grey's eyes go wide, "ohshit." And he ducks out the door, looking in the direction of the still-expanding fireball, "ohshit ohshit. That's not good."

Right. Quinn just nods at what Grey says, then gets one of the rifles herself, checking the magazine, then wrapping it in a blanket before she heads out of the dropship as well. She glances towards the light, shaking her head momentarily before she moves off into the crowd once more.

Stare. Jael started to turn to Silas, but there is that explosion and she forgets her words for a long few moments. Eventually she gives a little shake of her head, clearing her throat and looking wide-eyed up at Silas. "I'm not sneaky enough to be a goblin," she does finally tell Silas when she manages to refocus on him. "But if it makes me feel better, you can if you want to. I. Yeah, I was going to go with whoever else goes to see…whatever it was that just exploded. If you're going to come too. I think probably a few others will." She's ignoring the implications of the lack o' parachute, right now. No thinking. Thinking bad.

Jumping off the wall, landing near Cassandra, Asher offers a faint shrug. He moves towards his tent, "I have no idea what we are doing yet, Cass, but I want to be prepared." He eyes Quinn as she goes to the dropship, brow raised just a bit. He probably wouldn't grab a rifle anyway. He doesn't really know how to shoot, not that there are any snipers around here. "So let's get ready for whatever we have to deal…" and then he falls silent as the light starts to expand, blinking up at the sky, "Fuuuuuuck…."

If you're blind, and you have no idea what's happening? Good news! Grey's panicked pronouncement of the situation will catch you up quickly. Natalie is not blind or deaf but there's something about Grey's assessment of the situation that has her react. On the matter of all things terrible: just ask Grey! "What do I do?," Natalie yelps loudly in Gray's direction. Her hand is still attached to Mag's hand. And even before Grey can instruct her, her instinct seems to propose: drag Mag with you! Her small arms ignore the blood that's everywhere and hook under Mag's and still to draaaaaaaag her with an awkward, wobbly pure struggle.

Ten kilometres may be far, but not far enough. The light is blinding, and Cassandra winces as she ducks towards the parapet for cover, raising her hands defensively towards her face. When seconds later the orange glow starts to die down and she realises she is not on fire, she slowly lowers her shield and straightens back up, peering towards the horizon. Well, on the plus side, the likelihood of maniacs itching to conquer and float them all being successful is now considerably slimmer. She turns towards Asher again, staring with a raise of her brows, and then remembers something…

Never pass up on a free lunch. Even if it's a pretty bad lunch. Cassandra leans down, picks up Cole's discarded bracelet, and straightens back up.

Whoa. Explosions are bad. Cameron winces visibly, "Wow. The fuck, that is not how those things are supposed to end, I'm positive of that." But he's nodding and heading for his dropship, pausing after one step to explain to Morgan, "Gonna get my armor and weapon." Cuz he's planning on running and finding that crash landing, clearly.

For a moment, Elias forgets about the blood that still slings to him and he starts walking quickly in the direction of that ship. "Why aren't they-?" The sound of that kinetic annihilation causes him to jar backwards, wobbling on his legs a bit. This is going to be a long, long day. He nods over to Grey then and moves right over to him right along with Natalie. "Morgan's idea, definitely. Need someone on those comms." Suggestion to check it out? Nope! Not yet at least.

With his mouth slightly agape and his brows shot up and eyes wide, Silas watches light flourish and for the briefest of moments become blinding as a hand comes over to shield his face as though the flame might make its way over to strike him. It doesn't, but the impact and the explosion is heard and the shock his evident. "They didn't slow down…" he tells himself aloud with a blink before he looks down to his open him, murmuring to himself as he counts his finger. "..Changed the water on the hides… A day or two… Alright." he says to himself before he looks down to Jael, "Ready when you are, Goblin." he says with a nod.

It is more than two minutes before the rumbling basso roar, made quiet — but far from silent — by the distance, washes over the forest and the settlements scattered before Mount Weather. If that was the expected dropship, it was 36 hours early, not on target in the slightest, and did not weather the descent well. For those able to do the math in their heads, that length of time suggests an impact site 40-50 kilometers away.

"Actually, I hope they were the bad guys." Morgan says after the sound of the explosion dies down. Lifting his voice, he shouts "Someone get that radio going and see if they're back yet!"

The explosion is predicted at the hard impact, "Duck!" Alison squeals and buries against the shelter of the drop ship. Hands over her ears, eyes squinted a moment. The girl remains in place, waiting for the potential shockwave.

Grey has time for several more 'ohshits' before the sound rumbles over the Delinquent camp. He feels the impact deep in his chest, and it steals his breath away for a moment. But then there's someone asking him what to do. He looks down blankly at Natalie for a long moment, "Uh…" Thinking, thinking, rusty wheels turning. "That… was a long ways off, yeah? We're not gonna get there any time soon. Better… uh…" He looks down at the body, then sighs heavily. He slings the blanket-wrapped rifle and gives Natalie a gentle shoulder-nudge, "Get her feet. I'll get her arms. Unless you know how to use the comms." He nods to Elias and Morgan, "If we can make contact with the Ark, we should… but I think there was someone in there," in the dropship that is, since the comms equipment was moved, "the whole time."

Quinn's not trying to control anything, and she's not running around in panic. She instead moves through the crowd gathered in the camps until she turns up next to Asher's tent, her eyes still watching the rest as they react to what has just happened. Execution, things falling from the sky.

Morgan nods to Grey and moves to take Mags' legs, calling over to Cam "Stay with the radio. If there are more agents of the bad guys, they could try to destroy it. We should guard it around the clock now."

"Cameron's got his stuff, since its just piled right inside the dropship, and comes back and frowns at Morgan thoughtfully. "You sure? Someone should be going to see, I know that was horrible but maybe someone survived. And even if no one did, we might be able to salvage something. Anything. I mean." He pauses, "I have no idea how far away it is, but. We can't just ignore its out there?"

"I think…just give it a minute, it's gonna be a long walk, anyway," Jael says, looking up to Silas and offering up a little smile before she looks away. There's a glance towards the dropship, then over towards the bulk of the tents, and then she shakes her head and turns to start moving out through the gate. "I don't…I think I'd rather wait out there, if you don't mind. Or we can just go…" There's a look across to Cameron and Morgan, and then the petite blonde is heading out, pulling her jacket around herself. "How long of a walk do you think that's going to be? If we're talking a few weeks I might want to rethink it…" But she's stepping out all the same.

<FS3> Asher rolls Riding-1: Success.

Watching to see that Cassandra is ok, Asher nods to her and motions for her to follow him. He moves quick over to his tent, meeting up with Quinn there and is just in time to find Steak and New Boots looking very restless. The horse is stamping its hooves and pulling to try and break free of the branch. Asher glances at Quinn, "Keep back a minute so you don't get hurt…" The horse kicks a leg back and rears up again. Asher isn't a horse expert yet, but he's managed to build up a relationship with the beast.

Holding up his hands at Steak and New Boots, Asher shushes and takes slow steps foward, "Woah there buddy…calm down…" he keeps his tone calm, resonating. "Relax…" As the horse lands, he lays a hand on the side of its head, starting to give it a pet. Luckily, these Grounder horses are really well trained, or Asher would have been kicked in the chest.

<FS3> Alison rolls Science: Good Success.

Alison opens her eyes when the shockwave passes. Okay, it wasn't that bad. A look out in the direction of the impact. Mushroom cloud? No pulse. A sigh, she glances around and starts to move. Cole's gone off. The rest of the camp seems to be acting in small groups. "It is over forty kilometers. I need help resetting the comms equipment." Her attention drifting to the impact point. "The crash site is probably unsafe now."

Quiet, Silas looks from Jael to the sky once again briefly with arched brows- covering and planting himself in his spot as he staggers slightly under the shockwave. "A little more than a long walk, I'd think…" says Silas between his teeth as he repositions himself after the shockwave. He isn't looking around nearly as much as Jael before he looks down to her when she speaks and as she begins to head out, quietly stepping along slightly behind her. "I think we'd be lucky if it was just a few weeks." he says as he continues along with her.

Quinn's not getting too close to the horse, never fear! In fact, she pretty much keeps herself as far out of the way of the beast as she can while Asher deals with it. She glances around, searching for Cassandra in the crowd.

Morgan looks off in the direction of the crash. "I don't know Cam. How far away is it? As fast as it was going, could there possibly be anything left but debris?" And then Alison comes up with a number somehow. "That's what, at least two or three days walks? Mount Weather was twenty." Pause. "Where are we taking her?" The corpse.

Step, step, stop. Jael swings her eyes up so she can squint up at Silas, frowning. There's a look in the direction that the fireball of doom /was/ and then back up to him. "Oh," she says. He's blinked at a few times, and then there is more frowning. "You weren't really going to follow me for a few weeks," she points out. "Really?" Another look that way. "It didn't look -that- far," she says, but she's backing up a few steps again, demeanor uncertain. That's an awful long walk.

<FS3> Cassandra rolls Resolve: Good Success.

The deafening roar that resounds around Mount Weather has Cassandra wrinkling her expression and staring back towards the horizon, even if it's good news to her Ark-hating soul. Funny how she can be so perturbed to watch a single teenager die, but totally fine with the realisation that a new 100 on an incoming Exodus ship may not have survived. Her ears ring, but she presses onwards, winding her way through the lynch-mob to follow Asher back to his tent. Normally, she'd have to shove her way through and probably get into a fight, but delinquents mysteriously just seem to evaporate from the red-and-black-haired thug's way like a parting sea. Like on the battlefield, facing off Grounders, life is just easier in the brawny murderer's shadow.

The brunette comes to a stop by Quinn's side, of much the same mind; she may joke a lot about really wanting to ride that pony, but Steak and New Boots is an intimidating sight, and she looks up towards its rearing head from a safe distance. "Did you?…" Find Silver, she might have asked the ex-C, but a glance towards a metal-adorned wrist is all that Cassandra needs. She meets her eyes silently and expectantly for an explanation.

Natalie nods up through fogged glasses at Grey. Her eyes are now successfully bigger than glasses, cowery mouse huge as she fumbles with Mag's ankles and holds up her half of Mag's remains with effort and strain that suggests that all her meager strength is going into this. "Okay," she says, anxiously, accepting Grey's conclusion on how far away it is and therefore its not that bad. We'll be fine. Right? … Right?

"I was just saying." says Silas with a shrug, concerning how far it was. "But like I said- if we're going the same way, I'll go with you. And the same way is towards the uh.. 'Landing' zone. I can swallow a few weeks with a goblin if it means I get closer to seeing my parents again." Then again, who knows what happened to them? When Jael stops, he does as well with a glance down to her and a quirk of his brow. "So, are you not going?" he asks with a shrug, his sword still loosely in hand for a few seconds before he notices it- and decides that it's probably best to put away.

Cameron wanders alongside Morgan and er, the body, and doesn't help, since they seem to have it. "I don't actually know, I can't think of anything I learned in either botany or chemistry studies which tells me anything but they're somewhere thattaway. I just know we can't not go look. Even if there's nothing but junk metal. We could use some junk." His voice is grim at that.

Once the horse is settled, Ash pats it on the neck a few times befre running his hand down its back. "Alright…That's a good Steaky…good Steaky…" He even has a nickname for his horse. If only Asher could treat people like he does this horse. Alas, that will never happen, because they cannot provide him with steak or new boots. A glance is cast over to Cass and Quinn and he sighs, "Alright…He's calm…" he moves around the horse and into his tent to retrieve his weapons. Regardless of what the plan is, he needs to be armed. He only has ONE knife and his grounder axe. That is not nearly enough.

Elias is maintaining as much composure as he can for the moment, though avoiding eye contact at all costs is going a long way towards accomplishing this. A curt nod is given to Silas at his words. "Depending on terrain," he adds quietly. "I can listen out for the comm," he suggests. "Crash site's too far to leave right this minute to look at." The horse and Asher both are eyed a moment before his attention once more resumes with the rest. "That thing had to have been launched, right? Meaning there's still…/somebody/ up there."

Quinn lifts her wrist, not that Cassandra hasn't already seen the fact it's still there, "She wasn't in the tent." She then drops her hand, placing it over the blanket wrapped bundle in her hands, "So this is unexpected…can't possibly be anything good coming from it." Doom comes from the sky, always.

There's a look to Silas's sword when he looks at it, and then Jael sends a look over towards Cameron. "I think we should wait until the morning, if we're going to go," she decides, turning and gesturing for Silas to walk with her in Cameron's direction. Lifting her voice as she heads that way, she calls for her friend (and anyone else that might be paying attention), "I want to go check that out, but it's way long of a walk. Maybe we can head out in the morning, once things dry out some?"

Grey hefts up Mags' arms, carrying her with Natalie and Morgan, "To the other graves." He glances over to the trio with the horse as he starts hauling, but he keeps speaking to the group with the bodies, "Yeah. We'll need to check the radio, gather supplies…" He glances around, "Get some order back in this place." To Elias, "Damn it, we still gotta look for the missin' hunters too. But yeah, I figure its gotta have been launched. Unless it was like the Ark." It's much too small to have been that."

"Seems like a lot of people are going." Morgan tells Cam, jerking his head toward the gate. "I'm pretty sure some of them will break back what they can." And just as sure others will try to steal as much for themselves. "Even if we get some wreckage, there's stuff here we can't afford to have wrecked. Who do you trust more than us to make sure that doesn't happen?" Over to the other graves it is.

The revelation of Asher's nickname for his horse earns a blank look from Cassandra. 'Steaky'. Hmm. "If we're lucky, maybe that won't be a problem," she says to Quinn, dragging her eyes back from Asher's heart and joy, towards the blonde. And yes — she did just seriously use the word lucky for the possibility that one hundred people have died in flames. "We'll figure out what's what and, well, if it ends up being a problem, there are other ways to solve it." By which she probably means the good old-fashioned pry-bar method, which will hurt, much as their Skaikru horse-master said it would.

"I should…. prepare…," Natalie states to Morgan and Grey as she struggles with Mag's ankles and unfortunate dead weight. "the body…so… the animals won't …just dig… her up…," Natalie huffs and puffs through the effort, looking at Morgan and Grey for approval or some kind of desire to help out on what most would consider a fully distasteful activity.

Looking over his shoulder, Silas looks to Elias as he speaks- offering a nod as he mentions terrain. "Right, forgot about that." says Silas before he looks over to Jael when she talks about waiting. "…Yeah, I guess." he says, quietly adjusting his feet in the mucky ground before he watches Jael motion him along, and so he follows as he lets her do the talking. Silas quietly taps his chin a bit as he listens to her- thinking about something. Something probably unrelated.

Cameron looks notably frustrated by Morgan's argument, but can't find a way to refute it, so he sighs, "Okay." He glances over at Natalie, blinking, "Prepare it how?"

"We should… clean her up… and… wrap her up. Just… y'know… make her look… nice?," she attempts through her wheezy effort at Cameron. She immediately frowns at the misuse of the word 'nice', however. "I mean, not nice…but but… like… she's a person and- I'd want someone to comb my hair and stuff," she manages in a rapid exert of words over body carrying, her foot stumbling over a pinecone.

Grey shrugs at Morgan, "If they're leavin' now, I bet they're mighty hungry and thirsty by the time they get back. Idiots." To Natalie, he offers a tight little smile, "Yeah. That'd be good. Thanks. I'll help dig the hole when the time comes." He sets the body down, wiping the now-watery blood off on his pants, "Maybe we should check with the Trikru to see what's in that direction?" He nods to Jael as she and Silas approach. "..and after we get some supplies."

She stops again, looking between Cameron and Morgan, then up to Silas. Jael looks over towards those carrying the body, then those with the horse, and then up towards the sky. There's a little huffed sigh before she brings her hands up to rub at her face. When Grey speaks their way she nods, lifting her chin. "Probably best to go in the morning," she says. "It's wet and going to be a long walk and today's been. Rough. And yeah, checking with them to find out would be helpful."

Elias nods to Grey. "I'll organize a party to look for the hunters," he tells him with another curt nod. "I'll gather people up and leave as soon as possible." For the moment, he seems to be maintaining, though he does look more than worn out at this point. That or it's just the shine is gone from his eyes. Both of the young man's hands are still trembling so he clasps them behind his back. Looking over to Silas then, he gives a quick nod of his head. "Silas can you give me a hand trying to track down the hunters that went missing around some game trail to the southeast? Going to need more hands too, possibly. Any suggestions?" A look is given over to Natalie then and he reaches out with the cleaner of his hands to pat her shoulder in as comforting a manner as he can manage. "Thank you. Take your time."

"Cam." Morgan says with a hint of a grin. "With so many going, there'll be more privacy here." Then he shrugs at Grey. "Doubt they'll tell us. But I'd guess more Trikru. Ones we don't have a treaty with to not kill us. Might even have been the ones who stripped the pod."

Cameron stares at Natalie like she's lost her mind, "She's dead. We're putting her in the dirt." He doesn't mean to be insensitive, but, he's a practical minded guy. "I don't think there's any good way to keep her hair…neat. Or that there's any point. But." He shrugs, "Do whatever you think you need to do while we dig the hole, because we can't possibly need help with that with all this mud." He gives Morgan a dirty look, though there's no heat behind it, just dark humor, "I'd rather grab a strip of fruit leather and hike for two days then try to dig in mud. The things I do for you." Then Morgan mentions privacy, and he grins. Wickedly. A nod over his shoulder at Jael has his agreement with her, "Yeah, morning I guess."

Asher re-emerges from his tent with his sword strapped across his back, and a grounder knife at each hip, in addition to his axe. That's more like the normal Asher, always armed to the teeth. A glances to Cassandra and Quinn, and Asher eyes the bound item the ex-C carries. He lofts a brow, looking at her inquiringly and then offers, "Ok, so what's our game plan then? You inclined to just let the others go looking and we'll stay here?"

"Not really, but I'm not sure if the entire camp running off after this is a good idea, either." Quinn replies with a shake of her head, then she tilts her chin out towards the camp, "I'm sure that everyone else is standing around having this same discussion, if they haven't run off already."

"Oh. Okay." Deflated and defeated, Cameron's reply sinks in past Natalie's very limited thick skin and hits bone quickly. She forces a patient smile at Elias and Grey and follows it up with a nod but the small girl, who is doing her best impression of a drowned rat, goes quiet.

"There might be… shit we could use there," Cassandra admits to Asher and Quinn in a low voice, eyeing the surrounding murderers, traitors and cutthroat thieves. "That's if we can get there first." And then she eyes that horse, wondering if it can carry three people. "But if everyone's ditching camp, when we come back, there won't be a camp to come back to. Someone should stay." And that someone, her tone implies, should benefit from their temporary reign of an evacuated camp.

Grey brings up one hand to chew on a fingernail, then grimaces and spits at the taste of blood and mud there. "Ugh." Drawing in a breath, he nods, "Okay. You'll go lookin' for the hunters. I'll see who wants to go out lookin' for the dropship, maybe see if I can meet up with a Trikru to find out what's east of here." Groaning a little, he rubs the heel of his hand against one temple, "And we'll probably have to carry extra food for whatever idiots decided to just run off on their own after it." He shrugs down to Natalie, "Can't hurt to put her hair right and stuff." He pauses a moment, then comes up with, "Uh… Natalie, right?"

As he's addressed, Silas looks over to Elias with a tilt and turn of his head. Nodding, Silas speaks up, "Yeah, let me know when we're heading out." he says before he looks over to Cameron. "Uhm.. I think she means to suggest funeral rites." he says with a blink. "It's something to honor the dead… Even those who don't really deserve it. It's a tradition that started off from antiquity, and survived up until the bombs dropped… But well, with people having been down here for a long time, it may still be a thing." says Silas with a little bit of a history lesson. "We couldn't do it up in space. We can try it down here. I'd suggest a sky burial though. But…" Silas pauses for a moment or two, tilting his head back as he furrows his brows, "That means leaving her up in the mountains or hills to be fed to crows and other animals. Doing it nearby could possibly bring out animals for hunting." he adds, before he simply shrugs. "In any case, about south east." he says, looking back to Elias. "If our hunters went missing, we should have people ready to fight- some who can fight up close and some from afar. And we should have one person who's medically savvy, and have some supplies ready for when we get any injured." he says, pausing for a second before he says, "If, if you wanna be optimistic."

Mouth opens, mouth shuts. Jael sends a little glance around those gathered, and then she's just turning to walk away from all of it, shoving her hands back into her pockets and plodding in the direction of one of the clusters of tents.

"And we'll stay here and guard the radio and the rest of our shit." Morgan tells Grey. With the body on the ground, he moves over to Cam. "We needs some techs here to hook it up and keep it going. Ones we can trust."

Natalie nods rapidly at Grey, in confirmation of her name. Her shoulders have taken up a familiar kicked dog look, for those familiar with that posture. You may have previously seen it in the Box, Natalie backed into a corner with one or more malcontents looming over her just before there was inevitable shove or slap or kick. Easy target, easy malicious good times. "Yeah, Natalie," she says quietly, her voice bidding for something small and unobtrusive.

Cameron, uncaring, gives a shrug to Elias, "Anyone wants to say something is free to. I'm going to help dig a hole. Then I'm going to walk away. I don't care what else anyone does— do whatever you want. She murdered Evie. I consider the exhausting task of digging a hole sufficient to recognize her human dignity." Cooold, Cameron. Cooold. He nods to Morgan, "I can probably get it back together, but a real tech would be nice."
Silver has partially disconnected.

"Preferably people who don't want me dead right now," Elias utters to Silas with a light nod, though he doesn't speak any more on the subject. "Alright, so I got you, Silas. Natalie? Once we're…done, would you mind coming with me?" There's a look to Cameron then, somewhat more firm for all that he can muster that. "Not now, Cam," he states, though there is a subtle pleading edge to his tone. "Can I still count on you for looking for the missing hunters? We're going to need to move fast."

Get there first. Asher hmmmms quietly and looks from Steak and New Boots to Quinn and Cass. He raises a brow and looks out to where the crash was, "How far out you think that was? Not sure how long Steaky can carry three people for." Right three. He isn't including anyone else in this unless someone else does.

"I doubt the horse could even carry three." Quinn has no faith in the beast. She gives the horse a long look, then tilts her head in Cassandra's direction, "She's probably lighter than me."

Silver jogs back into the camp from the woods just outside, looking around for someone at least nominally in charge.

"Humanity dignity…? What- no, it's more about culture." says Silas to Cameron with somewhat furrowed brows. "You know, the thing that us 'Sky Crew' will be remembered for beyond our individual stories? One of the pillars of society?" That last bit may be more interpreted as opinion, but Silas knows how to say it like it's his own little fact. Letting out a quiet sigh, Silas brings his hand over to wipe away and push back his hair with his fingers. "I swear, with the way things are going we're going to get sacked more times than Rome. Except it won't be written in history dossiers." he says with a glance over his shoulder towards the gate, but eventually he looks back to Elias and offers him a nod. "Just hope I can make some leather breastplates to boil soon so if we get attacked we aren't immediately bleeding everywhere. If y'know, I don't fuck up again and cut them wrong that is."

Grey studies Morgan and Cameron for a long moment, his eyes narrowing in the still-misting rain, then he sighs and wipes a hand over his face, "Yeah. And you guys can watch the radio." He nods upward to Cameron, "if you get two shovels, I'll dig too." He offers a slight smile to Natalie as the teen fades unobtrusively backwards, "Go on, get on with what you'd like to do." Drawing in another breath, he shifts the blanket-wrapped rifle slung on his back, studying the group around the horse for a moment before he blinks at Silas, "She's home. She may've been a bitch who killed one of our own, but she's home now, and there's no reason to leave her out for the animals." There might be a little more snap to the words than he intends, and his glances to the two graves dug before Evie's… Perry and Rees.

"Ye of little faith…" Asher intones at Quinn with a severe look. It is likely in jest, but he is quite attached to the horse, "Steak and New Boots can carry three people. He just can't do it at a run." And he'd need much more regular breaks. He pats the horses mane once as a show of solidarity. He turns away from the horse back to Quinn, "So what's that?" he nods his head towards the wrapped bundle she got from the dropship.

Horse. Horse is for going places, which means that should be… "Asher," Silver calls toward the ex-cadet, heading in that direction. "Hey! Are you guys trying to go to the ship?"

"Not to mention I'm just sort of against the idea of encouraging animals to eat people, on principle of me not trusting their judgement to not decide I'd make a good meal later." Elias's Not Now gets an arch look from Cameron, his expression clearly all: What? But, he turns and heads back in, to get whatever makeshift tools they use as shovelikes.

A shrug is given to Grey as Silas looks to Cameron as they give their thoughts. "She'll just decompose in the ground anyways, if something doesn't come and dig her up- or dig down to eat her. If this is something about respecting her being one of us," He says the last part with a glance to Grey and then over his shoulder. "We should cremate her, make a pot to hold her ashes, bury that and then put a grave stone with her name etched onto it." he finishes with a hand being placed to his hip as his head swivels around to look back to Elias and Grey. "Or you can just throw her in dirt. Not like it'll be any different than feeding her to the animals." he says with a shrug. He probably sounds like a dick- and he probably does a lot of the time, but the expression on his face shows that he might just be tossing ideas out there. Probably not, but just might. "In any case, I should get to work on tending to the hides. We could all use some more bags and protection." he says with a turn of his heels and a sigh. "Shout if anything happens." he says as he steps off to a grouping of tents.

Cassandra is, probably, lighter than Quinn. She's not an ex-C. Exercise on the Ark is a privilege, not a right, and she's lived on limited soy and algae rations for much of her life. She looks to the blonde, sizes her up, then turns her gaze to settle on the approaching Silver. "But he can't carry four," she says, and there's a slight grin now curling at the corner of her lips, because as much as she likes Quinn, she likes herself more. She also really likes getting what she wants, especially when that thing has no other value than being a challenge out of reach — like Asher's pony. "There's Silver." She states the obvious for those who may for whatever reason not have eyes.

"Better for two than three." Quinn points out, glancing down at the blanket wrapped bundle, "Insurance." She replies, eyes flicking towards Silver before she lifts a hand, flashing her bracelet, "Can you remove this?"

A brow is raised at his named being called out and then he looks over to see Silver. A grin his shifted towards Cass and then he looks back to Silver, "I dunno, we were just trying to figure that out." he offers and then takes a handful mixed nuts and berries from a bag hanging off his tent entrance and he moves over to the horse, feeding it the handful of food. He looks to Quinn, considering for a moment, "So what's your thinking?" Though his gaze shifts to her insurance for a moment, then back, gaze narrowed just a touch. They will get back to that topic at some point. "Two of us go out there, ahead of the others?" Two the horse could carry at a good pace.

With some people gathered to look for the hunters, Elias walks off towards his tent for now so he can make an attempt at washing up a little bit better.

Gesturing toward the eight other graves right alongside them, Grey shrugs, "Don't know that we could get a fire going now anyhow. Not like Cole and Silver did with Skye and Victor," the two who died on the dropship landing. He shrugs again, "Probably won't be much until morning." Again he eyes the people gathered around the horse, "Unless Asher and Q do something crazy. Speaking of…" He gives a nod to the group around the graves and heads in the direction of the prospective equestrians.

"Sure," Silver nods absently at Quinn's question. "I got the right specs from the Ark, it's not a problem. The grounders are pulling people together to look into the ship, too," she explains to the group. "I told them they should wait and make sure they've got at least one of us with them to make sure no one does anything stupid when they see something strange, but they were pulling together out there. As hard as that ship came down, there are going to be injured people."

Quinn doesn't appear to be doing anything at all crazy. She's just standing around, talking. When Silver indicates she can get the bracelet off she holds her arm out towards her, as though she expects her to just pop it off right here and now.

Cassandra can't help but agree with Quinn; for with her noble intentions, she takes the words right out of Cassandra's ignoble mouth. "Someone you trust, like Max," she begins, but pauses. "Someone with guns —" maybe not Max, then — "should stay to make sure the camp isn't overrun." Her gaze flickers towards Grey even before he starts approaching and narrows. Perhaps she was thinking of him? It's a very tenuous thought, by the standoffish look in her eyes. And suddenly she's herself again, all frost and thorns unlike the briefly human visage she may have appeared to be on the Wall Walk parapet, in the company of these prospective equestrians. "We need to get to the ship before the Grounders do, or at least at the same time." By her voice, she realises that this is a neigh impossible task. "Or are you saying they might lend us a horse or two?" She directs this question to Silver, and glances briefly at the bundle in Quinn's arms. Apparently the question of 'insurance' is on her mind, too.

Asher frowns and moves to start making sure that Steak and New Boots is rigged up for a ride. He looks over to Silver, and then to Cassandra and then Quinn, "Ok…So if they are about to move out, and one or two of us should be there when they approach the ship, we need to get moving quickly. If we are gonna keep up, I can only take one person." Hopefully one person who gets along with the Grounders and one person that a Guard on that ship wouldn't shoot on site if there is anyone alive. "So, whose it gonna be?"

Grey… actually fits both of Asher's categories… probably. But no way he's gonna ride bitch on a horse. In fact, he keeps his wary distance from the beast as he offers nods to the quartet around Steak and New Boots. "Hey. Just wanted to check in, since you guys seemed like you were goin' out somewhere." His eyes flicker to the dull, ruddy glow in the east, then back, "Probably be a group going in the morning, when we're not trying to tromp through the wet, dark woods, and we have a chance to gather up supplies. I was thinking of asking the Trikru what's in that direction. Although I don't know that we can beat 'em there, even if they leave at the same time we do. They've got horses, we've got…" he nods up to the singular horse in camp.

Silver eyes Quinn for a moment, then sighs, holding out hand out to the other girl and digging into her pocket with the other. "Wren offered to take me," she notes when they start talking about who should go, waiting for Quinn's wrist. "I think some of them were headed back to Coesbur to touch base with Oxfor. I'm not sure if the others were headed straight there or if they were going to wait for directions, but they seemed pretty eager to get going. I just wanted to let someone know and pick up some things."

Cameron was going for shovelikes, right? Well he's back now. And has a few of them. They're piss poor shovels, but its what they've been burying people with. He sets them onto the ground near where he imagines they'll dig a grave, grunts, gets one, and starts digging. "I hate mud. I love rain but I hate mud. I want to find a place on this planet where I can enjoy the rain but there be no mud. Its a big planet. There has to be something."

Quinn hands her wrist over to Silver, shaking her head at Grey, "I wasn't going anyways, that I know of." Which might be true. She doesn't actually know if she was going to be going or not. Such decisions!

Silver is the obvious choice. Cassandra wouldn't be shot on sight by the Guard, but it'd probably be touch-and-go. Then again, when has Cassandra ever acted out of anything but her own self-interest? (We'll ignore that time when she faced off a river-shark, for now.) And so naturally, she nominates herself, and quirks her eyebrows Asher's way. "How many people do you know who can bring in the bacon on a walk through the wet, dark woods?" she asks with a smirk, as one of the few people who has, in fact, discovered and introduced bacon to the camp. Starvation on a long trek isn't something she's concerned about. "Then again, if you'd prefer to have Cameron trussed to your saddle…" She turns to dubiously look across to the botanist.

Asher glances to Grey, jutting his chin out at him by way of greeting. Ok, Silver is taken care of. Awesome. "Alright, so if we can get to Wren, we can ride with him and whoever else and be there at the same time, right?" He looks to Quinn and then to Cass. If Quinn isn't coming, he should have a gun, right? That makes sense. More importantly, whoever goes probably needs to able to use said gun to stop Asher from killing anyone who lived through the crash if they are wearing the wrong shade of guard uniform. He has his own reasons for wanting to go afterall. "I'm shit at Earth Studies, so you got me there, Cass." Frankly, Asher is a terrible choice for this, but it's his horse. "If Quinn doesn't want to come, then I think it's settled." Yay for impulsive dumb decisions.

"What?! No!" exclaims Cameron in response to Cassandra; he's not sure precisely what it is she was maybe volunteering him for, but he's quite against it. Instinctively.

Grey blinks in surprise at Silver, and then glances down, shuffling his feet a moment and glancing off to the north. It only takes a moment before he's back into the conversation, however, "If they're willin' to take some of us with them, that'd be great, make sure any survivors…" his eyes flicker to the east again, "…if there are any, don't start shootin' up people they don't recognize." He glances to Cassandra, "It'll be faster if we bring supplies with us than if you've gotta forage on the way, won't it?" He pauses a moment, then pats the blanket-wrapped length slung barrel-down over his right shoulder, "If people are going with the Trikru, though, the rifles should stay here. They get twitchy enough over even the mention of guns."

Silver pulls the pair of metal scraps she's been using as tools since they landed out of her pocket, bracing them at a couple of points on Quinn's bracelet. "Hold still, please," she murmurs absently as she gets the pressure and the placement right, then pushes and twists with the bits of metal until something clicks, letting the bracelet fall open. "Keep the punctures clean and covered. The bracelet can go back on, but if you do it, make sure you rinse, flame-heat, and alcohol sanitize the probes first. But really, don't put it back on, it's unsanitary."

Looking back to Grey, she shakes her head. "No one said they were willing to take us," she clarifies. "Honestly, I don't think half of them were willing to take me. But I'd rather get some dirty looks than have them get shot or our people get stabbed over some misunderstanding."

"You'll all do fine. I'll make sure things stay in order here while you're all gone." Quinn points out, keeping that bundle tucked in tight to her side. She holds perfectly still for Silver, waiting until it's done, then she shakes her head, "I wont be putting it back on, trust me."

"If you can pass us any spare supplies you have, we should be fine," says Cassandra agreeably, which is suspicious, because she isn't really an agreeable person. At all. In fact, she probably has plenty of supplies in that Grounder-made bag of hers, but Grey makes a good point, and there's advantage to be taken here, damnit! "Silver goes with Wren, I guess, and I'll go with Asher —" because she's more or less decided, apparently, which is why she now wears a big stupid grin on her face. "It'll be best if…" She nods to Quinn. "The ex-C's stayed here. Don't want Rebels taking over." Having said her… seemingly sensible piece, she looks up towards Asher, to see if he's in agreement. And boy, does she already look happy. Were their roles reversed, she, as a lesser person, would probably delight in crushing her own dreams just to see what the new look on her face might be.

A glance is spared for Grey by Asher and he nods, "Alright then. Let's get this moving then." He grabs his grounder back from one of his tent posts and slings it over his shoulder. He's already armed, but having a gun would have been nicer. Grey's point is well taken. "Second group sets out in the morning. I doubt we can do much at the wreckage now except make sure things don't go wrong." If that. They are more likely to die in a hail of gunfire with Ash and Cass going. Few in the SkyBox were as reviled by the guards as Asher. "If we are doing this, we should move out now." He spares a glance to Quinn, then looks to Cassandra, "Let's get those supplies movin."

With contact lost with the Ark, there's really no reason to keep the bracelets on anymore. Still, Grey glances down at his, then half-tucks his arm behind his body, a purely unconscious response. Nodding slightly to Silver, he revises, "You then. I just meant 'us' as in…" he gestures around the camp vaguely "…any of the Skaikru." Cassandra's suggestions get a heavy eyeroll, "Rebels taking over? Are you kidding me, Cass? Besides, what do you care if there are any survivors out there? It's not like you give a flying fuck at a rolling donut about the rest of Skaikru." Glancing warily to Silver at Asher's suggestion, he inquires, "You think they'll mind those two riding along? Or think they can keep up?"

Cam? He's just diggin' a hole.

Asher seems to be busy with packing up what small hoardings of food and water he has. He glowers over at Grey, "Look, I don't want to argue this. I get your point, I really do. But in the interest of not having Grounders potentially shot by moronic guards, I don't really care who comes with me." As long as it is a girl. Because…it's Asher. Duh. "Mostly because if that does happen, I'm gonna have zero options when the Ark comes down in force. So it's Quinn or it's Cass. Those are your options right now."

"I thought Cass was going?" Quinn glances at Asher, then at the others before she shakes her head, "I'm sure it'd be fine for you two to ride out now, but we're wasting time, don't you think? Go on." She is not voting for herself to go, for whatever reason. "Unless the horse can carry three. Otherwise you two had likely more contact with the Grounder's than me."

Silver grimaces at Grey's question. "I don't know," she admits, tucking the tools back into her pocket. "It might be better if you went separately. Honestly, if Asher and Cass as a smaller group can get there first to let the Ark know that there will be people investigating…" She glances to Cassandra, considering for a long moment. "Probably best if you let whoever's running the Ark side of things talk to the Grounders once they've been warned, though. They've already made their judgments on us, and they know we're not the final word. An adult might have a better chance, or at least put them off-balance."

Cassandra looks deeply offended by Grey's allegations against her person. Anyone with half a heart would probably feel terrible, if they didn't know any better, it being Cass — who is so emotionally superficial it would take exactly one lick to get to her centre. Still, she gives him that withering look. "You're not the only one who has people on the Ark you still care about," she tries to guilt him. Which is entirely true, even if it isn't applicable to her. Her wounded look doesn't last long, as she's soon smiling back up between Silver and Asher. "The Ark doesn't have a choice but to listen to us right now. We're their only bargaining chip with the Grounders. And as for those Grounders, I get along with them just fine. One of them offered to marry me with a fish." Of all the odd things she could say… "Help me up, Ash?" She upnods the red-streaked thug, glancing to the saddle.

Grey realizes something about what Silver said earlier, and he turns now to face the gate at the north, "The Trikru, they were here, just now, weren't they?" Frowning thoughtfully, he's silent for a moment before he looks back to Asher et al, "I'm not arguing permission, Asher. The camp made it real clear that I don't have the authority to do that." Not that he's bitter about that or anything. "I'm just arguin' practicality." He looks over to Cassandra, not buying what she's selling one bit by his expression, "Because if the two of you want to go off blundering around in the dark on a horse you can barely ride…" he shrugs, "Well, I'll come lookin' for you when things go wrong, bring you home." Granted, he was just talking about 'home' as a grave, but he also talks about the camp in those terms as well, and his tone suggests it's meant to be reassuring.

<FS3> Asher rolls Riding: Good Success.

Without really waiting any longer, Asher moves around to the side of Steak and New Boots and sets a booted foot into a stirrup…and old boot. Isn't he supposed to have new boots? He slings himself up and onto the large horse, then holds out a hand for Cassandra to grab onto so he can hoist her up. "Silver, you need a ride back to them?" A beat pause is offered and Asher eyes Grey, "I ride just fine now, jackass." He managed to get into the saddle just fine. He rides well for Skaikru at least. "Practically who would you suggest? Or you want us to wait for something to happen?"

"Mmm," Silver hums an affirmative to Grey. "A good half-dozen or so of them, up in the trees. It started with just a couple, but I got the feeling there were a lot of them who wanted to see how this execution went." She doesn't exactly sound bothered by the presence of grounder scouts around the camp. If anything, she almost seemed…reassured? "No, it's all right," she shakes her head to Asher. "I'm going to grab a few things and meet them back out there. Be careful, okay? That ship didn't come down like it should have, there could be fuel, or fires, or it could have landed in something dangerous."

<FS3> Cassandra rolls Riding+1: Failure.
Cassandra spends 1 luck points on retry.
<FS3> Cassandra rolls Riding+1: Success.

Cassandra turns out to be a very nice person when she's this happy. Look at those smiles! She's acting like it's her birthday, and who would ever know that she's such a bitch underneath? "You're such a critic, Grey," she tells Lucian blithely, with fond humour in her eyes. "I like you much better when you're dancing." It takes her more than one try to haul herself into the saddle with Asher's help, and considerable strain; they haven't even set out yet, and already she looks winded, but she soon steadies herself upright and takes in this new view of the world from atop her tall, terrifyingly precarious perch. "Knew you'd come around," she tells Asher affectionately.

"Practically, I'd suggest you wait until morning and go out with the rest of us." Grey steps aside none-the-less, giving the horse and its rider — then riders — a nice wide berth. "But enjoy the night ride. And Cassandra, I consider myself a realist." Which usually means pessimist. Or critic. Looking over to Silver, he nods, not seeming particularly bothered by the fact that there were Grounders watching either. If anything, he actually looks… some odd combination of pleased and uneasy. "When you see them…" He pauses, then shakes his head, "Nevermind. I'm gonna go help dig the grave." Still, he looks out over the wall for another long moment, then rolls his shoulders, "Yeah. Grave."

Since the path is clear, Asher doesn't really waste much time. "Hold on." he instructs back to Cassandra, either to him or to the saddle. He clicks his tongue at the horse and gives the horse a prod with the heel of his boot. Steak and New Boots starts to walk out of the camp. He knows the way so far all on his own. This is, inconsequentially, a terrible plan. Grey is totally right. Ash is impulsive though, and stubborn. Off they go!

"I fucking hate mud, Grey." Cameron has made a decent sized starting hole for the effort, but, since the topsoil is all mud? Some seeps back in. Fortunately, one days of rain isn't enough to penetrate too deep into the ground. Probably. "I do not think we were properly prepared for the details of life on earth. I do not remember an earth skills class on mud. Fucking mud, man." He sounds angry, in words, but his tone is cool, distant.

Once the others are on their way, Silver disappears back into the camp to gather a few of her things and a few medical supplies, then heads back out toward the woods.

Grey and Cameron get to dig a grave, while Cassandra gets to ride a pony. It's a good day for her, even if she did watch a younger woman than her die, against her sincerest wishes. This being Earth, where every day is a bad day if you let it get to you too much — she takes her wins as they come, and the possibility of this being a terrible plan does not wipe the grin from her face. Quinn gets a little wave and a genuine smile from atop that horse, and, as instructed, she wraps her arms around Asher's midsection and holds on tight, leaning against his shoulder. For stability, off course. Definitely nothing sordid about it.

It's a bumpy ride, and Cass'll regret her choices later. Grey will likely have the opportunity to say, 'I told you so' when they return.

Grey takes up a shovel as he rejoins Cameron at the graveyard, looking at the progress, "Hell, I don't remember Earth Skills classes on… well… much of anything." He's being a little modest there, but not much. He studies the problem for a minute, then moves over to set the blanket-wrapped rifle carefully atop a third shovel-ish, watches the horsepeople ride out, and then digs right in, beginning to move the muck out from the center and trying to toss it a little ways away so at least it has a good long distance to go before it can slump back into the hole, "I… have to agree with you on mud though."

"Water. Precious second only to air, conserved in every conceivable manner." Cameron's voice is philosophical, "And here it falls from the sky and mixes with dirt to make mud. It was barely over two weeks ago that we were in the closed ecosystem, and now we're digging our eleventh grave. One tenth of our people are dead now. And although I can't see any possible other choice we could have made, I would give anything to have been able to make a different one."

"Hey… it's also mixing with dirt. I mean, I'm pretty sure that the dust on the Ark was just us." And that's shiver-inducing in and of itself, even without a soaked jacket and shirt, "Which means none of us'd ever seen real dirt until we landed in it." But then Cameron's on to the more serious subject, and Grey works at digging in silence for a minute or so before he responds, "If it'd been self-defense. Or an accident. Or someone bullying her." He sighs, shakes his head, "But yeah. You kill someone who doesn't deserve it…" The bite of his shovel into the mud is a wordless statement of the consequences. It is, perhaps, an odd stance for an admitted murderer to take.

Cameron hesitates a moment, and ughs, "God, Grey, fuck, that's gross. I hated living on the Ark already, now I feel like I need to retroactively go through every previous memory I ever had of it and add a spine-shivering shudder." That said, he cringes, digs out a few shovelfuls of mud to clear his thoughts, and nods, "Some Mecha-station Guard, named Lin? Wynn? Something like that. He paid her to do it. I'm not entirely clear on what constituted payment in this case, but she was bribed. That's even worse. In the old world I read a novel and they called that murder for hire. She was an assassin. A mercenary. I know this will cause shit in the camp— I don't think Cole will look at any of us again— but… Sweet Eden, if any other option was possible, I'd pick it. Don't think I didn't spend all night in that cell guarding her trying to figure out something else. I did. I'm… cold. I know that. But I don't want to hurt people. I want our people to be strong and safe. All of them. Even the ones I don't like." A pointed, and poisonous, glance off in the direction of those who left is given.

Grey shrugs a little helplessly, "Somethin' my mom said. I think it was mostly to make my skin crawl. Never really saw much dust anyhow." Good air scrubbers. Or at least, good enough. "Lin? There was a Sergeant Lin on the Mecha-Station beat. I think he was a friend of Dad's." Which probably means he was an asshole and a bully, or at least had violent tendencies, although you wouldn't be able to tell it by the tone of Grey's voice. At least to him, his father is a pleasant memory. "The way I figure it though, even if she'd just killed Evie because she didn't like her, it's still cold-blooded, unjustified murder, and there's only one punishment for that. That's like… the first law of any society, right?"

"I didn't hear it first hand, Layla and a couple others were putting some moves on her to try to get her to spill, playing compatriots, so they were whispering. I only heard second hand. But it was something … Innish. Lin could fit." That said, Cameron leans back, breathing a moment; digging is not really fun at the best of times. "I don't disagree. Society has no intrinsic meaning. Government has no intrinsic power. These are conventions humans make up to live together. Rules, some enforced through power, some by convention, some by tradition, these rules tell us what's acceptable between each other. And I think every society starts off: you don't murder. If not, I am terrified of what that society is." He shakes his head then, and leans forward to dig again, "She had to die." He says that with absolute conviction, and then adds, softer, "And I had to vote for her to die. And I've never been responsible for choosing for someone to die before. That Grounder? We were in combat. They attacked us first, captured us first. There was no way to engage them. I might be a prissy ass about this, but I had no choice when we fought the Grounders. I had a choice here. I'm not saying my choice was wrong, but… I really don't like having to make it, man. I //really/ don't."

Seriously, she didn't go anywhere. Just sort of stayed around, being creepily quiet. But eventually Quinn wanders towards where Cameron and Grey are digging in the ground, "But when someone else kills…are we going to kill again? What if they steal? What's the punishment for that going to be?" She shifts the gun in her arms, shaking her head, "Problem is we're flying blind…no one knows what the punishments are going to be yet."

Grey frowns at the mention of the moves being put on the prisoner, then just shrugs it off. Apparently, that's no skin off his nose. He nods slowly at Cameron's words, the political science of it clearly going uncommented-on (and perhaps not entirely grasped on an academic level). The last, however, he understands fine, "Had to happen, so it happened. That's as far as it goes for me." Although the faint green tinge to his skin toward the end of the trial process may suggest it's not quite that cut and dried for the ex-C. Quinn's contribution draws a shrug, "Hopefully by then we've got some sort of leadership together that folks'll accept. Shouldn't have to be the whole camp voting. But yeah, we're gonna have to come up with those rules at some point." Between shovelfuls of mud, he flashes a tight grin at Quinn, "But hey, you don't think that not knowin' what the punishment's gonna be ain't eatin' at those with thievin' fingers? Not slowin' them down?"

"I don't know." Cameron sighs, glancing up at Quinn, "If someone else commits murder, to commit murder is to die. That's established. We have to agree on at least that. We have to. You don't murder someone. Stealing? I don't even know. If we could agree to form a leadership, they could debate and discuss and issue a set of laws, but we haven't agreed to that, so. We.. deal with each situation as it comes. Until we realize this is completely fucking crazy and you can not operate any society over three people on the basis of a committee-of-the-whole, we're going to have to deal with this in chaos. We have different politics. That's okay. But we have to agree on representation because of that." He looks skeptically, tiredly, at Grey, at mention of leadership hopefully being formed. "Between you and I, and now this, I'm not sure if its not just— too late— for agreeing on leadership. I hope, but I have no faith."

"It's slowing them down, but plenty have thought there were no consequences…all no Ark rules." Quinn points out, her shoulders shrugging just a fraction, "Now they all know there are rules…and they might be more harsh than we're used to. No boxes, no appeals."

Elias spends a good, long while getting himself cleaned up. When he finally approaches the dropship again, everything has been washed away save for what's underneath his nails. The trio having their conversation nearby has him approaching them with an upwards nod of his head in greeting. He still looks pretty shaken up, but is otherwise not the gibbering heap he very well should be. "Hey. Where are we at?"

Grey snorts dryly — about the only dry thing about him at this point — at Cameron's words, "We came together for the Rescue. Maybe all we need is another war. Think we can piss off the next nearest village of Trikru? Maybe the Mountain Men?" That's got to be sarcastic. He nods a bit to Quinn, "Right. They won't know if thievin' get them dead, Boxed, lose a hand, whatever." He grunts thoughtfully as he tosses another wet splat of mud aside, out of the hole, "I wonder what the Trikru punishment for stealing is." He looks up as Elias approaches, looking down again at the hole he and Cameron are digging, "About two feet down." Gallows humor is… perhaps not the best choice at the moment, but it's what he's got.

Cameron can't help it; at gallows humor? He snort-laughs. Its brief, but its there. Digging deeper into the wet ground he grunts a moment later, "Hey, if its one thing I'm not betting against, is us finding a way to piss someone off, Grey. So. Maybe the next war unites us. Then we get wiped out." He sniffs, digs some more, then comments, "All I ever heard was them being harsh. I didn't hear anything about specific punishments. Only that they couldn't comprehend we didn't have a leader who decided punishment." He glances sidelong over to Quinn, "Do they know? That there are rules? I guarantee a number will interpret this not as a declaration of rules, but a declaration of war. Tonight was blood that we had no choice but to spill, but don't for a moment think its the end of things or that there aren't those who won't interpret it as an opening salvo." And he looks to Elias, to Grey, and grunts, "Two feet two inches. No way. The fucking mud slipped back in. Two feet."

"Same difference to some." Quinn replies, then moves to give Grey's shoulder a pat before she starts to wander off, "I'm going to go be useful and walk a patrol around the camp."

Well, there isn't a laugh from Elias, but there's no snarling either. He gives as pleasant a nod as he's capable of really, which includes a somewhat blank look. "Would I be in the way? Or you can just holler if one of you needs a break." He gestures to one of the other shovels laying around. After the gesture, he walks over to pick up one of the shovels and stand by for the moment. "So I'm going to wind up taking Silas and Natalie to go look for the hunting party. I'll probably want an extra hand or two. Cam? I'll look for Kai in a while too. That ought to cover us to at least see what we might be dealing with."

"I stand corrected," Grey says to Cameron, waits a moment, then notes, "You stand corrected." He nods to Quinn, then nods more specifically to the rifle slung over her shoulder, "We should talk about whether we're letting those out more often. And who we train next to carry them." A topic for later, apparently. "Oh yeah, and I found out what did for Tide, Grecco, and Kellie." The three with the horrible burns and boils, "It's a defense from Mount Weather." Which is likely news to everyone in camp. Getting back Cameron's early point, he adds, "I agree with them. Not having a leader's stupid as hell." Elias gets a nod, "I should probably come along with you too. I promised to bring people back, and…" he grimaces a little, "It's more likely that they're still alive and in trouble than anyone in that crash is. Probably." Still, he seems torn, indecisive. Or maybe just tired.

"Yeah, because helping us dig a hole is not useful?" Cameron shoots a resentful look at Quinn, huffing as he heaves another pile of dirt and mud out of the growing pit. But, he glances over his shoulder at Elias, and to a spare 'shovel' — its makeshift to say the least, but its there — which is hidden half under some muck beside him. "Dig in, man. But yeah, I'm in. But only if you are willing to follow my lead. I am not the best tracker, but I am good at not being seen. I am front and everyone follows, because we have no idea the fuck is going on, and bungling into a situation loud is almost a worst case scenario. My way isn't the fastest, but its the smartest." He looks to Grey with a frown, "A defense? From Weather? What do you mean?" But he glances at this rifle and then gives Grey a serious, even stare, "I'm not a cadet but I think some non-cadets should get some training in firearms. It doesn't look good if ex-cadets are the only ones armed with heavy weaponry."

"What's the range on that?" Quinn wonders, ceasing her exit before she glances over at Cameron, her brows lifting upwards, "Stow the attitude, Cameron. I'm so very much not in the mood emotional blackmail. After tonight, after what /happened/….yeah, I'm a lot fucking more useful making sure someone else doesn't get killed in the middle of all this shit. So go float yourself." Without even waiting for a response about the defense she turns sharply on her heel, heading away from the group.

Elias flicks his eyes to Grey and blinks a couple of times. "What happened to them was a weapon?" he asks, perplexed. Apparently not much of a defense in his mind. "/How/?" Again, he blinks and gives a shake of his head. The shovel taken from the muck is carried on over to the hole they're digging. "Cool, though. I'll be glad to have you along." Cameron draws his attention then and gets a nod as well. "Understood. I can do that. I'm not as good at the sneaking around." With a look back to Quinn then as she moves to leave. "Oh, hey. Sorry, Quinn. G'night." There's a nod to her, but he's definitely avoiding any sort of eye contact.

<FS3> Grey rolls Deception: Success.

Grey nods to Cameron, "All of the ex-Cs have firearms training. We're talking about who to teach next. Because really, do we want," he glances first to Quinn, "Cassandra walking around with a loaded rifle?" And then to Cameron, "Or Morgan knowing how to shoot accurately from 500 meters when the rest of the Skaikru come down?" At the further questions on the Mountain's defense, he shrugs, "Don't know." A glance to Elias, "The Trikru I was talking to didn't say more. But yeah, that's one more reason they don't go near the Mountain." He shakes his head tightly, bending down to work on mucking out the grave, "We moved on to another topic. Stay safe, Q."

<FS3> Cameron rolls Alertness: Success.

"Honey, if you think that's emotional blackmail, man. Sorry. I didn't think you were that sensitive." Cameron snorts in response to Quinn, and then grunts, digging into the hole, shoveling out some dirt and mud. That said, he digs more, and grunts, and eyes Grey critically, "The more you say idiotic things like Morgan wanting to kill off our fucking people, please, Grey, you're not a Grounder, don't call them Skaikru, the more your argument has merit. He has nothing against the people of the Ark. Me? I have my father up there. I need to safeguard my people, and the Ark are my people. But, no, I wouldn't put Morgan within 500 meters of Kane, no." He shakes his head slightly, "The point is, you can't restrict this to the Cadets. You can't. If you think you can, you're drastically misunderstanding the feelings of the people down here. If the cadets think to become the de facto power, they'll have problems. You need to reach across the isle." At that, Cam leans back again, huffing from exertion, "And I'm asking you. Teach me. You control the rifles, and I'm okay with that. For now. But when we go out on missions— and if you think I'm not useful on missions you weren't paying attention— I want to be properly armed."

Elias shakes his head and exhales a soft, insincere laugh. "I'll pass on that training," he speaks up as he spears the makeshift shovel into the dirt. He lifts some of the earth up and tosses it behind him. "Has anyone seen these Mountain Men?" he asks, giving a brief and inquisitive glance to Grey. His attention is drawn to Cameron once more then and he gives a slow nod of his head. "I agree. We don't want too many people running around with them either. The more people that have them, the more opportunity for something stupid to happen. I'd rather not spend most of my time digging." He pauses a moment, realizing what he'd actually said. "Graves," he clarifies.

Grey shrugs as Cameron first says Morgan's perfectly safe within range of people on the Ark, then says that he's not. It's a pointed shrug, accompanied by the lift of an eyebrow to silently question the juxtaposition. Then, however, he adds, "People have been calling us the Delinquents, and them," a gesture up, "the Arkers. I figure Skaikru's as good a term as any for everyone. Unless you think people down here want to admit they're Arkers too?" He keeps working at the grave, steam rising off his fatigue jacket as he works, "It's not just my decision who we teach. Until there's some voted-in leadership, it's me, Q, Adams, Greery, and all the ex-Cs. I figure, maybe we require a promise of some sort for training, one we take ourselves too. Somethin' about never usin' them on other…" he stops, and goes with "Arkers except to protect another Arker or an ally." He nods sharp agreement with Elias' point on the graves, then lifts up one hand to show the callouses he's already earned digging — given that he's at least helped with every one of the graves but Cameron's mother's. "And nope. Far as I know, none of us have seen 'em. But unless they're better actors than I think they are, the Trikru are scared shitless of them."

"I am Arkborn, arkbred, arktrained. I am neither afraid of, ashamed of, nor seeking to abandon our heritage. Look up my Unity message if you don't believe me. I do not approve of the Council, but I believe in the Ark. I am an Arker. I can't claim to be anything else." That said, he listens to Grey and shakes his head, "You're setting the Cadets above the rest of us. That's exactly the problem. You do that, you guarantee there will be no trust between the rank-and-file and the cadets. If you alone hold the power to defend, you alone hold the power to conquer. If you can't see this as a problem…" Cameron shakes his head slowly, bewildered by the audacity, "Just when we need to be one, you're creating a division, an us-verses-them, a we-the-people, but, the military who answers to no one but itself. I'm not asking you to give me a gun, Grey. I'm asking the Cadets to stop this insular crap they're pulling where they're the only ones trusted. I helped track our people when they were captured. I helped fight against our enemy, I thrust my spear into a Grounder until he was dead. You and I don't agree entirely on politics, but on the actual, practical day to day matters, if you think we're enemies, you're not paying attention." He shrugs slightly, "And in return for a good faith effort, I could agree to postpone my political efforts. The Chancellor promised an election in a month. I'm willing to trust that." OH so begrudging is his tone there. "Didn't you ask me to wait?"

Elias gives a slow nod of his head to Grey's words, digging the shovel in again and repeating the process. "Well, they definitely know we're here, whoever they are." A long moment passes with him in silence and listening to the exchange between the two of them. He just works during that time, occasionally glancing from one of them to the other. "It would probably be a good gesture to train non-Cadets first to try to keep some sort of peace in the camp. We aren't considering martial law still, are we?" With a shake of his head then, he dismisses the thought. The pause in his digging is ended and he resumes for two more shovels of dirt before he stops again. "I didn't cut deep enough," he says, bobbing his head in a nod.

"Cameron… you don't get how dangerous firearms are, do you?" Grey slumps the point of his shovel into the mud, leaning on the handle a moment, "Yeah, we're keepin' the rifles locked up 'cause we're nervous that kids'll shoot each other, but we're also keepin' them locked up because usin' one wrong can get you hurt or killed. It's a safety issue. I do see the problem though, that's why we're gonna start trainin' more people." He nods to Elias, "It's always been the plan to train other folks." He nods out toward the faint glow of fires far to the east, "That's assuming Jaha and the Council weren't on that dropship, Cam. If that was a dropship." Looking back to Elias, he shrugs a little. "Nope. Don't know why you didn't just go with the noose." Shrugging again, he leans back into the digging, "Done is done."

"Of course I do. Do you remember, Grey, me saying you have control of the guns?" Cameron glances around, as if seeking for someone to question, "I swear I said that. Did I suggest we give everyone a gun randomly? No. I'm positive I didn't say that either. You're making excuses and not answering me, Grey. " He then wrinkles his nose at the thought of the dropship, "We don't know, but it doesn't change anything. We have to act with what we know, and what we can manage. And I think I've earned the right to be trained. I'm not saying I carry a gun around, I'm saying I have a right to be trained. That if, after training, I go on a mission, I am armed. The Cadets can not be a military dictatorship, and now that the cats out of the bag you have guns, if you think that's not going to start being the impression people take…" He nods over to Elias, "Exactly. The best way to break us up into a thousand parts is to have a minority wield all the violent power and try to assert control. I don't think the Cadets are going to do that, intentionally, but just the act of them holding their power to their chest can accomplish the same thing."

Elias looks over towards the tree where the noose had been. He squints his eyes at it and keeps his attention there for a moment before looking back to Grey. "The noose just seemed shittier," he answers him after a moment of thought. Elias continues to dig then, pulling the dirt up out of the ground and moving it to the side as before. "Well, yeah. Grey just said the plan all along was to train others besides the ex-C's." This is directed towards Cameron. "The sooner, the better, though. If we're going to use the guns, yes. Everyone should have the right to be trained. We're all responsible for our defense and well-being. We should probably keep them out of the hands of, well…fucking Allen, probably." There's a pointed look then to both Grey and Cameron before settling on Grey entirely. "Perception is reality. Especially when people are already panicked."

Grey sighs at Cameron's response, punching the head of the shovel into the dirt and shaking his head, "Cam… seriously. Please stop takin' everything I say the worst possible way. I'm not tryin' to make excuses. I'm explaining our thinkin'. So maybe you'll get it. I'll bring up your name when we start talkin' about who gets the first batch of lessons. Soon. Have you seen Q and Adams and Greery and me tryin' to run things? No." He steps away from the grave, picking the wrapped rifle up and slinging it over his shoulder, "Because we can barely agree on anything. But what we have agreed on is that people need training. 'Cause if things go bad, we're gonna need at least twenty-four people who can use a rifle. But right now? After all this, I really, really don't need another argument. So I'm gonna go put the rifle away, 'cause it's safer up there than with me, and I'm gonna get some peace and quiet for a bit." He nods to Elias, accepting the other man's explanation for the method of execution. He gestures to Elias at the example the other man gives, "Everyone's gonna have their own list of people who shouldn't have rifles. Some folks, we'll just have to trust," That's with a heavy look to Cameron, and then he shrugs, "And it'll happen soon. I'll bring it up again as soon as we get back from our searches."

"What I see, Grey, is your cadets making decisions amongst yourselves. I don't really see there's any difference between that and you making a decision on your own. The cadets aren't a Council. They don't get say over anyone else." Cameron nods to Elias, "Yeah, he says they intend to train others, but my point is, until that happens, its words. I'm not saying Grey's lying, but I'm saying: he's approaching the situation from a POV that the cadets decide for us. I don't like that." That said, he shoves up from the mud and shakes his head, "I'll be back in a minute."

How long has she been gone? Who knows? Kai doesn't. There was execution and fireballs and it's mostly sort of a blur to her, and from the state of her clothes and the miserable soaking wetness of her (upside; white tee shirt.. downside; it's Kai) the lean girl finally turns up again, hands shoved in her pockets and shoulders hunched as she schluffs her way back through the gates. The spot where Mags died is, obviously, the first spot that her eyes go to, but she sweeps the rest of it just to silently scout what the hell might have happened while she was gone.

"Seeing as we haven't heard from the Ark, I think it's high time we held an election," Elias says, giving a nod once to Grey and then to Cameron. "Without some sort of leadership, we're not going to make decisions on half of this shit without people feeling like they got fucked over in one way or another." He's over near both Grey and Cameron, helping the two other young men dig Mags' grave. "I understand what you're saying, Cameron. We definitely need to come to some sort of agreement. Any agreement we come to right now isn't going to be speaking for everyone unless everyone's gotten a say on who's calling the shots." Mags is probably laying somewhere nearby.

Grey rolls his eyes sharply, "Decisions on what we know. Like the techies, like the Ee-Ess Nerds, like everyone." He looks to Elias with a gesture toward Cameron and an expression a cross between confused, frustrated, and demonstrative, like 'see what I'm dealing with?' And then he walks away toward the dropship, his blanket-wrapped rifle slung over his right arm again. Either he doesn't notice Kai's return, or he has other things on his mind, because he goes straight on, clambering up to check the rifle back in upstairs and spend a few minutes inside in the dryness before heading out and toward the gate again, avoiding the little graveyard on his way out into the woods.

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